#oh and 'child abuse victim wants his girlfriend to beat him up' that ones a classic

[ottiliere]

oh my goodness your dios.. what a delight to see someone so fully invested in phantom blood dio wow. i am very happy. i love your 3D dios. really makes me want to sculpt him as well

Do it... clay is cheap bake it in the oven paint with 10 dollar set of acrylics your life will never be better. I adore phantom blood Dio so very much... years ago saw someone coin the term “phantom blood purist” and it's so funny I think about it literally every time I enter a Dio cycle. There are many aspects that go into this preference of course, and upon a great amount of time pondering i can say confidently that this is because mainly that:

1) I love history (especially the fin de siècle) and I love thinking about him in relation to Victorian values/etiquette/sociology in general... there's something so special about a society that enabled such a gross disparity of wealth&poverty while being so inherently pretentious that its asinine etiquette rules would completely elude you unless you were raised in an aristocratic family or had access to etiquette books. Dio absolutely read a great amount of these before going to the Joestar mansion btw, even before his father snuffed it I think. God help him he would not be doomed to look like a slovenly ill-bred gamin if and when he needed to manipulate the upper classes. I really can't think of a way for him to have developed these skills enough to outclass Jonathan otherwise. god and like thinking about him as a barrister too with his profligate fashion sense you just KNOW he gets drawn that way into all of the court sketches that go in all the newspapers since everyone loved to read about crime and there were a million papers for this in England alone... he'd get caricatured so bad sometimes and he is NOT happy about this.

2) You can probably tell from my indifference to the rest of the parts (except sbr; I call this the "diego rule") that I'm not the biggest fan of fantastical elements and I'm much more interested in interpersonal conflict/relationships in general... PB is extremely unique to the rest of the series because for five WHOLE chapters absolutely nothing abnormal happens and we just get to see Dio harassing Jonathan and his girlfriend until Jonathan snaps and humiliates him so bad in beating him up that he makes Dio cry. and then Dio kills his dog. Like it's literally just some impoverished child abuse victim bullying a spoiled rich kid who wanted to be his friend because lalala sunshine daisies only knows what "poverty" is from reading Oliver Twist and has no conceptual understanding of what the real-world implications of that are. That was the character development that needed multiple chapters to develop it's so fucking awesome. like yeah I'd read an entire novel of just this alone happening and how it impacts their relationship as adults no vampirism needed. I reread "dio the invader" so frequently I'm surprised the spine of my jojonium copy isn't cracked at the exact endpoint of it. I just adore him interacting with Jonathan so much it's hard to remove him from that… that's his FOIL... all the stories (some "AUs") I make with Dio involve the way he and Jonathan gravitate each other to some degree. we get the clearest view of who he is in the face of someone who is the polar opposite of himself. 🤯

2) This iteration of him is the closest degree of separation he has from his "humanity" (childhood), thus

3) I find him to be the most interesting, endearing, etc., version of him walking around, given that... well. behaviors stem from somewhere... the thematic & active severance of himself from a species he is fundamentally incapable of connecting with due to the way he adapted to help him tolerate his childhood... from his point of view I can't imagine that there is one convincing reason for him to continue being human after given the opportunity to deviate from it (despite likely still being inebriated when he vamped himself — very much an impulsive decision since he had, what, an hour or two to think that through? drunk?). If everyone's underneath him, yes, after the fact the choice seems extremely fitting. Maybe he'll cultivate a vast swathe of worshippers and disciples that obey his every command. Maybe he'll rule the world. And then, maybe, he will start to feel genuinely content for the first time in his life. But probably not. That's the drawback of having something fundamentally missing from within you.

4) He lacks a certain type of introspective awareness that 100 years alone in a box might enable him to develop... he's very animalistic to me and possesses a precarious/immature/nonexistent grasp on his emotions just given the fact that he exhibits enraged outbursts from perceived ego wounds (in both childhood and adulthood) + struggles with alcoholism due to an incapacity to self-soothe any sort of negative emotion that makes it past the self-aggrandizing filter he can't help but see life through; he really isn't in conscious control of anything happening inside of him despite needing control over everything and everyone so he can get exactly what he wants, and deserves, always. PB paints a very dim and pathetic view of his character by allowing us to see when he's most "vulnerable", which is the thing he likely hates being the most, so getting to see scenes where he's walking around publicly intoxicated and disparaging himself for acting like his father (implied: again), who he hates, and attacking men with a wine bottle for evoking the concept of his mother, who he also kind of hates but lacks the cognizant cogency to dissolve whatever cognitive dissonance is causing this mental incongruence, rules. he rules

tl;dr SDC dio is "iconic" but I feel like he misses a lot of the charm he had in part one, removed from the context of the society that had such rigid social boundaries and rules of decorum, in addition to his maladaptive approach to interpersonal relationships, his substance abuse issues, his humbling foil... he's too "cool" for me. In the end SDC dio is simply not my Dio... he is someone else's Dio. And that's okay.

[arrowflier]

How about something with Mickey and Lip and their very strong stance that 'you don't beat women'/'guys that beat women they're bitches'. Both men have super short tempers, which is why they're always literally in each other's faces, but I'd like them to use that short temper while on the same side please!

Content Warning: mention of domestic violence

The bell over the door chimes as Cynthia walks into the salon, and four pairs of eyes focus on her immediately.

“Oh, um…” she says, caught off guard by their instant attention. “I just…” She looks back through the window of the waiting room, into the semi-darkened parking lot.

“Can I stay in here a bit?” she asks finally, sounding sheepish.

“Uh…I’m kind of the only one in right now,” the stylist answers, hands currently full of thick red hair, the woman in front of her raising expressive eyebrows at the interruption. “Did you have an appointment or something?”

Cynthia shakes her head, lips twisting.

“No,” she admits easily. “But I do have a crazy ex that’s been following me for two blocks, and I’d love not to deal with that right now.”

The stylist softens.

“Oh,” she says. “Okay, whatever.” she turns back the woman in the chair, using her head to gesture to an empty spot in the waiting area. “Take a seat, we’ll be here for a bit anyway.”

Cynthia does as she’s bid, sitting gingerly on a red-cushioned armchair near the door. Two men stare at her as she does, and she remembers the other two people in the room. They’re sitting as far apart as they can without leaving, but they obviously know each other; it’s all in the little look they share when she turns their way.

“Got a nice shiner goin’ there,” one of the men says, the one with the sleepy eyes and close-cropped hair. “Something happen?”

Cynthia repressed the urge to touch her bruised eye.

The other man leans forward, elbows on knees exposed through strategically torn black jeans. He cracks his knuckles, and her eyes are drawn to the crude words written there.

“Crazy ex do that?” he asks, sounding as if he understands. “You got shit taste in partners if they did.”

And despite herself, Cynthia laughs.

“You can say that again,” she says, and relaxes for the first time since she noticed Sam following her.

As her laughter fades, she notices the stylist watching her again; or at least watching her reflection in the mirror. Cynthia smiles—I’m okay, it says, really—and the woman smiles back.

“I’m Tami, by the way,” she introduces herself, though she doesn’t turn from her task. She runs a silver comb through red hair as she adds, “and these goons are my family, but let that influence what you think of me.”

“Hey,” the thin man says, frowning, “I’m the father of your child, you’re not supposed to be embarrassed by me.”

The other man snorts.

“Kind of hard not to be, Phillip,” he mutters, and ducks when Tami throws a comb at him without looking.

“Be nice to my boyfriend, Mickey,” she orders, “or I’ll mess up your cut.”

Blue eyes narrow.

“You wouldn’t. I’m your best fucking friend.”

“So?”

The tough one, Mickey, grins.

“And you’d have to deal with Ian’s sad face,” he adds, and Tami sighs.

“Fine,” she mutters. “But still, play nice.”

Cynthia relaxes further as they banter around her. It’s like being at home, her sisters all arguing while braiding each other’s hair with tender hands. She smiles wider, then winces when it pulls at her black eye.

“Hey,” Mickey says from across the little room. “Lady.”

Cynthia looks at him. His brows are furrowed.

“You never answered,” he says. “Your ex do that to your face?”

Cynthia bites her lip. Looks to the others. With the exception of Tami, they’re all looking at her expectantly, even the woman in the middle of her cut and style.

“Uh, yeah,” she admits, feeling silly as she confesses it to strangers. “I mean, we just broke up yesterday, and it…”

She blinked. Swallowed. Forced a laugh.

“Well, it didn’t go well.”

Silence, for a moment, as Cynthia avoided meeting anyone’s eyes. Then:

“And you said that fucker followed you here?” Mickey asks, already half-rising. “That’s good. Means I can fuck an asshole up.”

She isn’t that surprised. Maybe she should be—someone with those tattoos may not be what most people would expect of someone against domestic violence—but there a certain air about him, a protectiveness, that told her this wasn’t the first time he had intervened in this kind of situation.

She was more surprised when Phillip rose with him.

“Only a fucking coward hits a woman,” he spit out, face already twisted from her confirmation. “Little bitch needs to learn a lesson.”

“Lip,” Tami warns from her station. “Take it easy.”

Mickey is the one to reply.

“Nah,” he says, rubbing his upper lip. “For once your baby-daddy’s right, Tamietti. We gotta go give this dude a beatdown he ain’t gonna forget.”

Oh. Oops.

“Actually,” Cynthia says, hesitant, “Sam is—”

The door swings open, the little bell on top going wild.

“Cynthia,” Sam growls from the opening. “Are you fucking hiding from me?”

Fuck.

“Of course I am,” Cynthia says, standing. She feels better being on her feet with Sam so close. “You hit me, you bitch, you think I want to see you?”

Someone coughs behind her. Cynthia looks, just for a second, as long as she can stand to take her eyes away from Sam.

Mickey is staring at them, wide-eyed, fists clenched but not raised. Phillip’s mouth is open like a fish.

“What are you looking at them for?” Sam asks, angry. “These your new boyfriends or somethin’?”

“Don’t be stupid,” Cynthia mutters, and flushes. “I don’t even know them.”

Sam smirks.

“They look like pussies anyway.”

Cynthia waits for someone to do something. But for all their talk, Mickey and Phillip are silent, but for the frantic whispers they exchange behind her back.

“Should we…” Mickey wonders.

“No way,” Phillip hisses back. “We can’t—”

“But she—”

“Oh, for fuck’s sake,” comes a new voice, cutting right across them.

Cynthia barely comprehends it when the woman from the chair storms past her in a wave of red hair and flower-scented shampoo. Then Sam is going down, victim of a wicked right hook to the temple, and the woman is shaking out her hand while standing over the prone body of Cynthia’s abusive ex-girlfriend.

Phillip and Mickey gape, and Cynthia gapes right along with them. Then the woman flips her hair, holds out the hand that just dealt divine punishment, and says:

“Hi, I’m Debbie. Wanna go out sometime?”

[randomdcfangirl]

Jason x Superman's daughter!reader

Request: Hi can i request a jason todd x reader where reader is a daughter of a hero and defends jason infront of the jl by @illzarr

(A/N): You didn't specify if you wanted them to be a couple or not but I made them one, hope that's okay :) Also I made it Superman's daughter.

Tags: @redhoodieone @avengerdragoness @comic-nerd-dc

Keys: (Y/N): Your Name (Y/S/N): Your Superhero Name

Word Count: 1,381

Warning(s): Cursing, arguing, mention of child abuse, talking about Jason's death, league may be a bit rude and ignorant when it comes to Red Hood, also a bit insensitive

**********************************************

Being on The Watchtower wasn't something Jason liked doing, especially since he wasn't Robin anymore. As Robin it was fun and he liked it but after everything it wasn't a fun experience. Red Hood isn't seen as a hero in the hero community like he is down in Crime Alley. Moral codes got in the way of that.

How the hell Jason got (Y/N) Kent or (Y/S/N) he has no idea, no fucking clue. Why did Clark allow it you may ask? He did not, he doesn't know, good thing Jason carries Kryptonite around, he's not dying a second time to Superman.

Jason doesn't even really know why he was called to this mission, it wasn't hard and they wouldn't need backup so he was a bit on guard because of that. He was walking with his Nightwing, his brother of all people, to this meeting that Jason is pretty sure isn't a meeting. Jason's pretty sure he's getting set up but he was going with it for now, well somewhat.

"Wing, you need to tell me right now, am I getting set up?" Jason asked him.

"I'm not going to take you to get arrested, Hood. If I wanted that it would've happened a long time ago." Dick let out a laugh.

"Wow thanks, glad to know you don't want me in prison." Jason joked. "But actually, this isn't a mission is it?"

"To be honest, I wasn't told anything either. So I honestly don't know." Dick replied.

"Okay, now I know it's not a mission. They were prepared for me to ask questions so they didn't tell you anything." Jason sighed. "Guess I'm arguing with somebody today."

Dick shrugged and they continued on their way to the conference room. That conversation didn't give Jason any information at all. They arrived in the conference room a few minutes later and everyone was there, already waiting for them. There was a seat for Jason at the table between Diana and (Y/N), Jason cautiously walked up and sat in the chair while Dick walked around to sit next to Bruce and Clark.

"Now that we're all here we can get started. So, it's not really a mission." Superman said. Jason's suspicions were confirmed.

"I had a feeling, so why am I here?" Jason sighed.

"Think of this as sort of an intervention, Batman has no say in anything we've done and he cannot stop it." Diana said.

"Intervention for what?" Jason asked confused.

"Your actions as the Red Hood." Clark replied.

"If this is about killing I haven't killed anyone in the past year, bats already beat you to that "intervention" a while ago." Jason said with finger quotations.

"Not just the killing, there's a lot of younger heros that look up to you and you're too aggressive out in the field." Diana explained vaguely.

"But yes mostly the killing." Flash said.

"I didn't sign up to be a role model, that's not my fault. All I do is mind my business and do my job, I don't think that's a need for an intervention." Jason replied.

"Okay, let's talk to Jason instead of Red Hood, drop the persona." Superman said. "Clark to Jason."

"Sorry but Jason isn't any different, I think the person you're looking for died in a warehouse 8 years ago." Jason replied, Clark flinched a bit at that remark. "Just spit it the fuck out, why exactly am I here?"

"They don't like the way you act and work down in Gotham like they have any authority down there in the first place." (Y/N) said from her place next to Jason.

"(Y/N)." Clark warned.

"No, all you guys ever do when he's here is criticize like you have authority over him. Well guess fucking what, you don't. He's a grown man who can make his own decisions and you're not his family. Maybe you were considered so at one point but in my opinion you lost that privilege a long time ago!" She exclaimed to all of them.

"(Y/N) you don't hav-." Jason started but she cut him off standing out of her chair.

"No! I do! I'm sick of all of you trying to change who the Red Hood is! Just because he has a different moral code? Also did you know that he's never once killed an innocent person? Did you know Red Hood has only ever killed murderers, rapists, child molesters, because I don't know about you but those people don't deserve to be breathing in my opinion anyway." She said darkly then turned to Jason and talked softly. "They brought you up here because Joker is dead but they wanted to know if you did it or not. They wanted to see if they could make you say it without straight out asking you."

"He's dead? When? Who?" Jason asked quietly in shock.

"We were hoping you knew." Green Lantern said with a bit of sarcasm in his voice.

"If I was never stopped he would've been dead a long time ago. But no I didn't kill him, I wish I did but nope." Jason was keeping himself composed from the shock.

"Okay, he didn't kill him, like I told you many times. But you wanted to know how I knew so you know what I'll tell you. I was with him for the past 2 weeks every single night and day. He's my boyfriend and he's the most kind hearted, hard working, strongest and intelligent man I've ever met. I've never been treated with such respect and love so I'm not going to sit here and let you tear him a part in lectures anymore. He does too much good down in Crime Alley to deserve it." She said strongly to everyone in the room. Bruce sent her a nod because he's glad Jason has her.

"Oh really, what good has he done?" Green Arrow said.

"When was the last time you guys gave out food to street kids or an orphanage? How many of you guys help kids with homework or the kids who have to cover bruises on their arms or legs while at school? When was the last time you gave a sexual assault victim peace of mind knowing their attacker can't hurt them anymore? When was the last time you worked your asses off every single night to bring kidnapped children home from a trafficking ring? Probably never for most of you but Jason does it every single day while dealing with his own demons up in his mind because guess what he's gone through literal hell and back and that shit ain't easy!" She exclaimed more. "C'mon babe, you have no reason to be up here. Let's go home."

She grabbed his hand after they both stood up and they walked out of the room. They left everyone in the room including her father who didn't know what to think.

"That's three bats now somehow involved with my family." Clark sighed.

"It's not fun from my side either, Clark." Bruce replied standing up. "Also don't ever call a meeting to do with any of my children again. Especially not Jason, he deals with enough already and you have no authority over Gotham so your input on my city is not accepted. Leave my family and my city out of League business, this meeting is over."

Batman is scary but Batdad is scarier.

When Jason and (Y/N) got to his apartment they changed out of their gear and into sweats and comfy clothes.

"You didn't have to do that you know." Jason said wrapping his arms around her from behind while in their bedroom looking out the window.

"I did, I know you won't defend yourself with actual facts and would likely turn to anger to protect yourself so as your girlfriend I decided I'd take it upon myself to protect you the way you try to protect me, even though I'm Kryptonian." She replied. Jason huffed a laugh because he does do that even though she doesn't need it.

"I love you." Jason told her kissing the side of her head.

"I love you too." She replied and turned to give him a real kiss.

They'd deal with Superman later.

****************************************

Hi, I haven't wrote is fic in a long time but here this is. I'm still doing the Jason x Bermudian!reader I'm sorry that's taking so long. But I love you guys and hopefully I'll be more active on here :) <3 (Also I couldn't think of a title lol)

[operationcavill]

Professionals 4 - August Walker

August Walker is hired by Parker Industries to protect the companies most important assets; Mr. Stephen Parker himself and his workaholic, do-it-all executive assistant. 

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 

“Wayne?” He knows that’s not all; he can see it on her face.

“He called her a few days ago to see where I was, but she didn’t know. Now, no one can get a hold of him.” 

August stands up and starts pacing, “You were right.” She scrunches her nose, “I’m fucking pissed.” 

She tries to stay positive, but the doubt is grave in her voice, “It’s ok.”

“No, Y/N, it isn’t.” He runs a hand through his hair, “Last night, someone tries to get onto the property and your ex-boyfriend, who happens to be a threat to you and the company your family owns, is missing!” He gets dressed in a hurry and leaves her bedroom without saying another word. She feels like a scolded child until he comes back, angrily stomping back in to kiss her forehead, “I’m sorry,” then quickly leaves again. 

It isn’t until around noon that Y/N sees August. She’s sitting in the study with her uncle, talking about Jack, “Did you tell Walker about Jack?” 

“I told him we were together,” she shakes her head.

“But did you tell him what he did?”

Y/N takes a deep breath, “No, I can’t imagine he’d take that news well.” 

“Gin, you need to tell him.”

“What’d he do?” Oh, no, this was not the setting she planned to tell him; she knows he’ll be angry. He sits across from them, elbows resting on his knees.

Parker nods at her, assuring her that he’s there for her, “Jack isn’t a good man.” August’s eyes narrow at her, urging her to continue, “I didn’t want to mention what I went through because honestly, I refused to believe it.”

He’s tilts his head to crack his neck, “What are you telling me?” 

Y/N fiddles with the hem on her shirt, and Parker speaks up, “He beat the shit out of her, Walker.” The harsh words cause Y/N to shift in her seat.

August stands in an instant, walking over to her and immediately going from investigator to soldier. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

Y/N has tears in her eyes, and she reaches for his hand but pulls back as Parker continues, “She broke it off with him, and the prick didn’t take it well.” Y/N leaves and heads to the kitchen; she doesn’t want to hear it nor talk about it. “She agreed to meet him at her apartment to talk about things, but he had other plans. He just left there. She begged me not to tell the police or take her to the hospital. The only way I could get her to go to the doctor was by promising her I wouldn’t contact authorities.” 

August is fuming, his face turning red, and his hands are in tight fists, “You could have told me about this!” 

“Mr. Walker, it is not anyone’s place to talk about abuse if the victim isn’t ready to speak on it. You will not turn this around on Y/N or anyone else, you hear me? This is Jack Waynes doing.” 

August relaxes, realizing his temper is getting the best of him, “I needed to know this. I needed to know this to keep her safe.”

“You do, August. You’ve been incredible to us all, but you do need to understand that Y/N keeps a lot to herself, she’s always had trouble with it. She needs her family right now. I want you to meet with your team and increase measures. Wayne has money, more money than I do. And when men like him have money, they know no bounds.” 

“I should go check on her,” Parker perks his head up, “I need you to call Annie, tell her to pack a bag. I’ll send her a car; I think if Y/N needs someone right now, it’s her. Call Jacob and check on him and Joey.” 

It clicks with Y/N’s caring and nosy uncle that there be something else going on, “She’s more than the job to you, isn’t she?” August doesn’t respond; he straightens his posture, “If I were a younger man, I’d happily punch you in the jaw.” 

“I understand.”

“We’re going to talk, sit down.” August sits across from him, hands clasped together. Mr. Parker is not an argumentative or particularly angry man, but he would fight until nothing left in him when it comes to his niece and nephew. “You know Y/N is a strong woman, I’m sure that was part of the attraction. She is strong, but she is vulnerable, and I will not have any man wrong her or take advantage of her in any way, ever again.” August nods but doesn’t get a chance to speak, “Whatever it is that you think you feel for her or whatever you’re doing with her, end it.”

“I can’t.”

“Excuse me?” No one usually dares to tell Stephen Parker ‘No,’ and they certainly do not disregard what he says about his family.

August shakes his head, “I can’t do that.”

He huffs, “You can, and you will.”

“I love her.” His admission takes them both by surprise. He hadn’t intended to say it aloud; he hasn’t even said it to himself.

“What?” They both jump, and August stands, shocked to see Y/N standing there with a glass of water and a handful full of ginger candy.

“I—uh,” He has no idea how to react, and her expression is unreadable.

Before they can say anything, Parker speaks up, “I need a drink,” Y/N looks at him but still can’t muster up any words.

She stands there wholly frozen, “Did you just say you love me?”

“Yes,” August speaks shyly.

“No, you don’t.”

He’s taken aback, “Sorry?”

“Shut up,” Y/N snaps at him.

Parker addresses Walker, “Good Luck,” then leaves the study, allowing them to have a moment to themselves.

Auguste clears his throat, “Well, now you’re just being rude.”

“No, I mean, What?” She finally sets down her glass and candy on a table beside him.

“What do you mean ‘what’?” His arms slightly raise in frustration.

“We barely know each other.” While this is true to an extent, August is a studier. He learns until there is nothing left to learn.

“You’re forgetting that I know everything about you. That’s the job,” Y/N picks at the polish in her nails, “I don’t expect you to feel the same. I don’t,” he stops and tries to think of the right thing to say, “I’m not someone who, who just allows himself to do these things.”

“I’m not sure what to say.”

“You don’t have to say anything. You can tell me to fuck off if that’s what you want, but I’m still here to make everything as safe as I can, to make it safe for you. How I feel won’t get in the way.”

“I think, uh, I’m just going to go back to my room, ok?”

He nods, “ok.” 

Y/N sits at the window seat in her bedroom, trying to take in everything. She was overwhelmed and couldn’t ignore it, not this time. Jack was missing, and he knew how to get to her. He knew how to hurt her in more ways than just physical. She tries to focus on the rain tapping on the window, but nothing can drown out the sound of August’s voice. I love her. And in classic form, he knocks on her door. She opens it to find a somewhat disheveled looking August. His hair is in his eyes, his shirt is untucked, and he looks tired. 

He sighs and begins to ramble; “I went into the system at 6 when my mother died. I graduated high school early, and went into the marines. I can speak French, Spanish, and Japanese,” he gives a small shrug, “I hate sweet potatoes,” he walks into her room, settling on the foot of her bed, “I’m a music snob, and I don’t know why. I have a mustache because I’m too tired to shave it. I’ve ignored relationships because I don’t want distractions. My whole life has been about a job. I have been left and alone in every sense of the word, and it’s mostly my fault.” He finally looks up to see Y/N in tears again, “I’m sorry, bun. I’m sorry. You know that?” 

She welcomes his embrace when he goes to her. “I’m not crying because you love me,” He’s confused but can’t bring himself to let her go, “I’m crying because of everything else.” 

“I will fix this, I promise.” 

“Gin?” Their eyes go towards her door to find Jacob, who also looks like he’s seen better days. “Are you ok?”

She reluctantly pulls herself away to greet her brother. “I’ll be ok,” then it hits her, “wait, why are you here?”

“Steve called. He said it was best we come here until things settle down.” He nods toward August, her eyes landing back on the handsome yet pitiful looking man in her room. “Joey’s asking about you guys. I can tell him you’re asleep.”

She shakes her head, “No, no, I’d love to see him.” Y/N takes a deep breath and makes her way to the stairs as the two men follow her. 

Joey smiles and holds up a picture he drew. It’s no doubt a sweet portrait of her an august in stick figure form, “Daddy said you and Mr. August were sad, this is for you!” She wraps her nephew in the tightest hug and kisses his forehead, “Why you sad, Mr. August?” Joey looks at him with such concern. 

August Walker, a man who takes pride in not showing emotion, has tears in his eyes, “Sometimes things get a little sad is all.” Joey shuffles towards him and puts his arms up. He hesitantly picks the boy up and wonders what happens to us, when do we lose the sweetness that children have?

His small hand rests on August’s cheek,” Don’t be sad. I brought my trucks. You wanna play trucks?”

He pats his back, “I would love to.” Oh, how he would have loved to have been like Joey.

Y/N steps aside with her brother, trying not to melt at the sight of her sweet nephew, “Where’s the nanny?”

“She quit weeks ago. I told her I liked her but unfortunately, her girlfriend was not too happy about that.” 

“Oh, sorry, how’s Joey handling it? He loved her.” 

“Thanks to your video calls, you and Walker are all he seems to talk about these days.” 

“Really?” She asks in genuine curiosity. 

“Walker doesn’t come off as a kind person, but I guess you shouldn’t judge a book by its cover.”

“That’s for sure,” Jacob gives her a questioning look,

“So, what’s going on there?”

Y/N tries to play dumb, “Huh?”

“That shit’s not gonna work with me. What’s up with you and the soldier?”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

He rolls his eyes, maybe a trait that’s genetic, “You’re doing the whole I-don’t-need-anyone thing.” Y/N scowls, “I’m not going to pretend to understand what you went through, but I know it was hard.”

“Fine, I’ll talk to him later.” 

He hits his shoulder with his own, “He must not be all that bad.”

He points toward August and Joey on the floor, where joey shows him all of his favorite trucks. “Daddy said you like my Y/N.”

“I do like your Y/N,” He trades him a yellow truck for a red one.

“You’re nicer than Jack.”

“Oh, I am?” August tries his hardest not to react.

“He never played trucks, and he made her cry.” His small finger points to Y/N. 

“Was Jack ever mean to you or your daddy?”

He shrugs his little shoulders, “No, but he pushed me down at Uncle Steve’s birthday party and told daddy I fell.”

August can barely muster up words, “What?”

“He said I was in the way.” Joey shrugs it off, not realizing that the incident wasn’t an accident.

“I’ll be right back.” August smiles at him before stomping toward the siblings. “Did you know that mother fucker knocked Joey down?”

In unison, they (almost) shout, “What?” 

“Joey just told me that Jack fucking Wayne pushed him down at a party Parker had.”

Jacob walks over to his son, “Joseph, did Mr. Wayne hurt you? Why didn’t you tell me he pushed you?” 

Joey’s bright eyes become glassy with tears, just as most children’s do when asked such tense questions, “I don’t know.”

“It’s ok; I just wish I knew.” Jacob hugs his son and pokes his nose.

Finally understanding that something is wrong, Joey wipes his eyes, “Is he scary?”

All of them have a brief moment of heartbreak for this child, he’s having to learn that there are scary people in the world. Y/N sits with Jacob and her sweet nephew, “Sometimes people can be scary, but you don’t need to be scared of him. You know why?”

Joey smiles, “Cause Mr. August is here.”  

She wasn’t going to answer with that, but he’s rights, “Yes, August is here.”

A familiar raspy voice comes from the hallway, “Where the hell are you guys?” 

Oh, Annie to the rescue, they could all used her right now, “And so is your Yaya, go get her!” Annie adored this house and the children within it. She quickly and gladly took the role of Joey’s Grandmother. She loved him as if he was her own.

Joey runs, tripping over his toys, “I’m ok!” and hops back up to meet Annie. “Hi, Yaya!” They all can’t help but grin at the precious resilience of a child.

“Hello, my little love. I see you’ve been having some fun in here.” She spots the small trucks and dozens of crayons strewn about, “Why don’t you draw me something, eh?”

He nods and runs back to his disaster area. “Now, you, come over here.” August looks toward Y/N and expects her to walk forward, “Huh-uh, handsome, I’m talking to you.” 

[Tagged: If you’d like to be tagged, just shoot me a message or ask!]

@igotkatiepowers  @xxxkatxo  @lunedelorient  @heartfelt-pen  @omgkatinka  @viking-raider  @summersong69  @hell1129-blog  @lilzebub  @mansaaay  @henryobsessed  @harrysthiccthighss  @cavillshmavill @wheretheriversrunintothesea​ 

[anarchyduck]

Axe, Sweat, and Cigarettes pt. 2

Part 1

Also read on ao3.

ALERT:  There are some behaviors that can be seen as forms of self harm. There is also some chatter alluding to child abuse/molestation but nothing graphic.

-------

Ned has been around Peter Parker long enough to pick up on the tell tell signs of when something is bothering him. He fidgets more than usual and spaces out a lot. He jumps every time Ned touches his shoulder, which Ned wouldn’t have to do but Peter stops responding to his questions and is staring off into space.

Peter also bites his nails when something is eating at him. And after he has bitten his nails down to the quick, he picks at the skin around his cuticles. He does it absentmindedly; Peter himself doesn’t seem to notice until he’s bleeding.

At first, Ned thinks it’s Spider-Man related. The superhero gig - no matter how awesome and cool it is - takes a toll on Peter. When asked, Peter denies anything is wrong.

“Just stressing about midterms.”

Ned finds that hard to believe. Peter is one of the smartest (if not the smartest, in Ned’s humble opinion) guy at Midtown. He lets it go with the lingering reminder that Peter can always talk to him. Peter just smiles and they move on to talk about something else.

Michelle notices too.

“What’s up with Peter?” she asks Ned one day during lunch. Peter is conveniently absent with the unofficial ‘I’m sick’ story. The real one, or so he texted to Ned that morning, is him being stuck at home dealing with a sensory overload migraine.

“What do you mean?” Ned asks. “He’s sick.”

“I mean what’s up with him lately.” Michelle clarifies. “He’s been acting weirder than usual.”

Ned bites the inside of his cheek. Sure, Michelle is cool in her own blunt kind of way, but she doesn’t know anything about Spider-Man or the real reason Peter isn’t at school. While it is awesome no one else knows except for him, Ned sometimes wishes someone like Michelle did know.

“I… don’t know.” Ned says truthfully.

MJ raises a brow. “Aren’t you two like, best friends or whatever?” she asks.

Ned frowns a little because, yeah, he knows she isn’t being malicious, but it does hurt a little. Peter is his best friend and if anyone should know what’s wrong with him, it should be Ned. And Ned doesn’t know.

“I heard he ran out of the boy’s locker room yesterday.” Michelle continues as she peels off the sticker on her apple. “Knocked Flash down on his way out.”

Ned remembers that. It was so weird. One second, Peter is fine, just finishing dressing out, and the next he is bolting out of the locker room like it was on fire. Flash was the unfortunate victim (Ned uses that term lightly) when Peter shoulder checked him on his dash out. Flash bitched and complained the entire time until someone told him to shut up. Ned didn’t see Peter again until lunch. By that point, he seemed fine again.

“He also spent third period in the nurse's office.” Michelle takes a bite of her apple.

Now that is something Ned didn’t know about. “It’s just stress,” he says. “You know, about midterms.”

“Midterms. Sure.” she scoffs and takes another bite, chews on it, and says, “You better talk to him. You losers shouldn’t have secrets between you.”

It sticks with Ned for the rest of the day.

On the way home from school, he sends Peter a text message.

Ned: How are you feeling? Any better?

Peter doesn’t respond immediately, and Ned tries to not worry about it and rationalizes that Peter has his phone muted. Maybe his migraine isn’t totally gone.

Ned’s phone chirps with a reply.

Peter: Little. Out rn

K. Want to hang out later? Ned sends the message off as he steps off the train to head home. His stomach twists, knowing the answer but hopes for a different outcome.

Peter: Sorry dude have to study

Yeah. He should have known better. Ned sighs and types out k see you later! He is about to put his phone away when he decides to send one more text.

Ned: If you need me let me know

The only response Ned gets from Peter is a thumbs up emoji and smiley face.

It doesn’t make him feel any better and he makes a mental note to check Twitter for Spider-Man news later. If Peter won’t fill him in on anything, he has other ways of keeping tabs on him.

Which brings him back to his conversation with MJ earlier. Peter has been acting weird and Ned feels like he should know why. The more he thinks about it, the more his mind keeps going back to that day at the bodega. Peter had been off for the rest of the day. Nothing alarming, just distracted.

Now that Ned thinks about it, Peter has been distracted nearly every day since then. It could all just be coincidence, but Ned doubts that very much. Something happened and he missed it.

The scene at the bodega replays over and over in his mind even after Ned walks through his front door. The apartment is empty, except for his sister’s tabby cat Speckles. The feline trills at him from her lounging spot on the back of the couch, tilts her head up as Ned pets her as he passes by to drop his school bag in his room.

He turns on his computer and, while waiting for it to boot up, wanders into the kitchen for a snack. Afterwards, he unloads the dishwasher (more of an oversized drying rack since it broke) and washes up the remaining dishes left in the sink. Both his parents won’t be home until after dark and his sister is staying over at her girlfriend’s apartment closer to Queensborough Community College. It leaves Ned to his own devices for at least a few more hours.

He checks Twitter for any Spider-Man sightings. He still thinks it would be cool to set up an official Spider-Man account to have a place where people could post messages or whatever. Peter was on board with the idea until Tony Stark caught wind of it and quickly shut it down, citing how much of a bad idea it would be. Ned thinks it is because Stark doesn’t understand how social media works.

Nothing new shows up in the tags except for a new Daily Bugle article ranting about the dangers of neighborhood vigilantes. Ned frowns and decides to close out the tab before he ends up reading it. He decides to open a program to practice coding with hopes it will be enough to distract him.

And it works.

Then his phone rings.

Ned knows it’s Peter just from the ringtone (the ever-iconic Wilhelm scream) and pauses his music as he answers, “Hey Peter, what’s up?”

“Hey.” Peter replies. Ned thinks he hears the wind blowing in the background and wonders if Peter is swinging while on the phone again. “Nothing much, uh… What are you up to?”

“Nothing much, just working on coding.” Ned puts the phone between his shoulder and ear as he puts both hands on the keyboard again. “There’s that coding competition coming up, you know, and I thought about entering. There’s a sweet prize of like a thousand dollars. Think of the Lego sets we could buy with that.”

Peter gives a noncommittal response. “That would be cool.”

Ned waits a beat for Peter to say something else. In the background, he thinks he hears traffic moving. Or maybe it’s the wind again. The silence stretches out a little longer than Ned’s comfortable with and he starts, “Are you feeling any better? Because MJ was asking about you and-”

“Do you think I’m a bad person?”

Ned’s fingers freeze on the keyboard. Where the hell did that come from? “No, of course I don’t think that.” he assures.

“But what if…” Peter breathes heavily against the phone. “But what if I did something bad?”

“Like what?” Ned asks carefully, treading light even as his heart rate picks up. “Peter, what happened?”

“N-Nothing, just uhm…” his friend trails off and Ned’s concern only grows as the silence once again lengthens. He can hear Peter breathing, can hear the wind, and the distant sound of cars honking.

“Peter?” his chair squeaks as Ned turns, taking both hands off the keyboard completely. “You’re starting to freak me out, dude. Say something.”

Through the phone, he can hear Peter’s breath hitch and catch. “Uhm…” he clears his throat and there is an odd strain in his voice as he says, “I’m thinking of doing something really stupid and I…” - he takes a shuddered breath - “I’m scared.”

Ned straightens in his chair. A million thoughts fly through his head, one right after another and none of them are good. He thinks about calling May or reaching out to Happy or, hell, even Mr. Stark. But Peter didn’t call them; he called Ned.

“Come over.” he says.

“Dude, I can’t. I-”

Ned cuts him off. “Peter. Come over right now. Just stop whatever you’re doing or about to do. Come over and hang out with me.” He tries to keep the worry out of his words. The underlying plea of please come over so I don’t have to worry about what you’re about to do. If you’re here, you can’t do anything stupid. Please please please

“... Okay.” Peter sniffles on his end of the line. “Okay, I-I’ll come over.”

Ned sags into his chair with relief.

----

 It’s half an hour later when he hears a familiar rhythmic knock at his window. Ned crosses the room from his desk to unlock his window and let his friend inside. The most out of place thing is realizing Peter isn’t in his Spider-Man suit. His clothes are dark though and he’s even wearing a black mask with goggles that look an awful lot like the ones from his old costume.

“Why do you look like a bank robber, dude?” Ned asks before he can stop himself.

Peter takes off the mask and runs his hand through his hair. “Oh, it’s like a stealth suit.” he says, as if that answers everything.

“Why do you need a stealth suit?” Ned asks as he closes his window. “And how come you’re not wearing your regular one?”

“Because Mr. Stark has a bunch of stupid surveillance equipment in that one.” Peter replies. “He doesn’t have to see everything I do.”

Ned returns to his chair as Peter flops down onto his bed, arms outstretched beside him. A hundred questions come up all at once (what don’t you want Tony Stark to see? Why do you need a stealth suit? Why have you been asking so weird the past couple of weeks? What were you doing?).

Instead, he asks, “What’s up?” Ned immediately cringes at how painfully casual it sounds. Good job, Leeds.

Peter exhales a sigh as he stares up at the ceiling. He picks at his fingers and shrugs his shoulders. “I don’t know, man.” he huffs a bitter laugh and brings his hands up to cover his face.

Ned bites the inside of his cheek. He wants to say something to break the silence, to push whatever is eating Peter inside out. “Where were you?” he asks finally.

“Out.” Peter replies, voice muffled by his hands that remain on his face.

“Yeah, but where?” Ned presses and, when Peter doesn’t answer, adds, “You’ve been acting weird, and I’m just worried about you. MJ is too. She asked about you today.”

“She did?” Peter asks in surprise. He uncovers his face as he sits up, a move Ned considers progress.

“Yeah.” Ned nods. “She wanted to know where you were today and why you’ve been acting… weird lately.”

Peter breaks eye contact as he fidgets with the black fingerless gloves. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to worry you guys.” he quietens for a moment. He picks at the skin around his fingers and Ned wants nothing more than to reach over and grab them, to stop him. “I uh… I’ve just had a lot going on. W-With the internship and…” Peter trails off, not willing to finish what Ned knows is a lie. “Do you remember that guy who used to babysit me when I was little?”

Ned grimaces but nods. “Yeah.”

“I saw him.”

Ned’s eyes widen. “What? Where?”

“At the bodega, a couple weeks ago.”

Oh.

In an instant, everything clicked into place and Ned could see that moment when he caught Peter just standing in the middle of the shop’s aisle, staring off. How pale and out of it he looked, as if he was going to pass out any second. But he doesn’t remember that guy being there.

“And I haven’t been able to stop thinking about him and the more I think about it, the more it freaks me out.” Peter rubs the corner of his right eye and sniffs. His leg keeps bouncing. “Now it’s like, every little thing just sets me off.”

“So,” Ned draws out, pieces falling into place. “That day, when you ran out of the gym locker rooms, something set you off?”

Peter nods. “I can’t really stand the smell of Axe body spray.” he says. “And someone was spraying it and it just… I just freaked out.”

“Is that why you skipped class and stayed in the nurse's office?” Ned asks. If Peter is surprised by him knowing this, he doesn’t show it. He just nods and continues fidgeting. “Peter, you could have told me.”

“Told you what? That I was being stupid? That I can’t handle smelling that stuff without thinking about him?”

“I don’t think you’re stupid. What he did was awful. It’s not-” Ned says but Peter cuts him off.

“Not my fault. Yeah, I got it.” Peter laughs bitterly as he gets to his feet to pace. “Logically, I know it’s not my fault. I know. But that doesn’t stop the dreams or, or the memories from coming back up. I should be over this by now. I mean it’s not like Skip” - Peter’s voice catches on the name - “did anything serious. It was just touching.”

“That still doesn’t make it okay!” Ned raises his voice a little higher, hoping it drives the point across through Peter's thick skull. “He still hurt you!"

“I found out where he lives.”

The sudden statement is enough to nearly give Ned a whiplash.

“He’s here. In Queens.” Peter continues in a rush without giving Ned a chance to recover. “I couldn’t stop thinking about it so I looked him up and found his address.”

An uncomfortable chill rolls over Ned. What does that even mean? “Dude don’t tell me you went to his house.” he says gravely. Peter’s refusal to make eye contact and nervous nail biting is enough to confirm it. “Oh my God, dude.”

“I’ve been watching him, and I thought, you know, I wasn’t strong enough back to stop him but now I’ve got all these powers. And what if he was hurting some other little kid? I couldn’t let that happen, Ned!”

“Yeah, but you can’t just…” Ned trails off because yeah, if he could stop a bus with his bare hands, he would probably think about doing the same thing. He tries imagining his friend staking out Westcott’s house and then the phone calls springs back into mind. “Is that where you were tonight?” A grim thought comes to mind and he looks at Peter with alarm. “Peter, don’t tell me you-”

But Peter shakes his head. “No. But I was going to do it. I was going to sneak into his house and confront him. I was just so… angry.” he runs his hand through his hair and finally, finally, looks at Ned. Eyes shining with unshed tears and his hands are still shaking, breath coming out a little quicker. “I wanted to hurt him so bad, it’s all I could think about. What if I did do it? What if I killed him? A-and then May would find out and Mr. Stark would find out and and they would lock me up and May would be all alone and-”

Ned is on his feet before he realizes it, crossing the space between them and catches Peter’s trembling hands. There are specks of dried blood beside his bitten down nails, the spots where Peter was picking already healed. Ned holds his friend’s hands firmly and looks at him to catch eye contact. “Dude breath.”

Peter blinks, eyes red-rimmed, and he does exactly that. Breathes in through his nose and exhales through his mouth. Ned nods encouragingly, remaining quiet as he gives Peter’s hand a light squeeze. It takes a moment for Peter to squeeze him back.

There are several things on Ned’s mind. The biggest being how Peter tracked down that asshole Westcott and planned a confrontation with him. If he had, well, Ned doesn’t want to think what could have happened. Going off just the videos on YouTube alone, he knows Peter could have seriously hurt Westcott, even killed him if he didn’t hold back. Ned thinks the guy would deserve it (he does, 100%) but it wouldn’t do Peter any good.

“So…” Ned begins, trying to find the right words. “You found the jerk, but you didn’t confront him. Which is good! The guy totally deserves to have his ass kicked, but I don’t want to lose my best friend to prison. Plus, I don’t think you’d survive prison.”

Peter chuckles lightly and sniffles. “Prison would suck.” he lets go of one of Ned’s hands to wipe the tears from his cheek.

“Plus, I want to call first dibs on kicking his ass.” Ned adds and gives Peter an earnest look. “For hurting my best friend.”

Peter ducks his head, bottom lip trembling until he bites it. He sniffles and takes another calming breath. “Thanks, man. I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

Ned shrugs, “Probably fail history class and become less cool.” he says easily and smiles when Peter laughs again.

They stay like that for a while longer until Peter’s stomach growls obnoxiously loud. They laugh and decide frozen pizza rolls and ice cream are excellent ways to recover from draining emotional situations. Peter sends May a message to let her know where he is, and Ned talks him into spending the night.

Ned may not have super strength or be able to climb walls, but if he can help make his friend feel better, then it is enough. 

[thelittlehansy]

How many things Hans share with domestic abusers ?

I just cant count the number time i read that hans remind them of their toxic abusive ex. Hans has already be link to "domestic abuser " in fanfic.  in some modern AU fanfic  i read Hans beats anna because you know...he is the villain. I also saw that there was some fanfic where Hans rapes anna and elsa 🤢 because you know....he didnt even kiss anna but he would totally do it because yeah....he is the villain.

And just people imagine the worst about what if hans succeed into marrying anna.  So lets back to one of my favorite things.

List 🤓🤓

This times how many signs hans share with abuser in the movie ? i took an article on the web about the subject.

1-CHARMING.

“Initially, he showers his woman with praise, adoration, and attention. His courtship is sweet and intense filled with phrases such as, “I can’t live without you.” He quickly pushes for an exclusive relationship or engagement.”

Yes he is charming ! There was love at first sight this is  very much possible hans said things describe above maybe he even means some of them because again...that scene when he is alone smile smitten  by anna under the boat. The only difference is that there was specific reasons about the fact that he ask quickly Anna to marry him he didn't have times the gates were going to be closed and he could said goodbye to his key to the throne this is why he propose so fast to anna. So the comparison with abusive relationship and what is describe above dont seems really honest as they was an explication to his behavior if he could have times to seduce her during a long time ,  he would have done it  i think (?) one the thing we know about him is that he is a very very patient person.

2. JEALOUS.

“He views other men as a threat to the relationship and accuses you of flirting with everyone from his brother to the mailman. “I know you are looking at him.” The irony is that he often is the one who is cheating.”

Behavior never show in the movie we dont know how he would have reacted to kristoff presence. when his show his "true colors" hans show us that he dont cares about anna and that   she is last of his worries.

X

3. MANIPULATIVE.

“This man is very intelligent. He knows how to detect your weak spots, and he uses your vulnerability and past pain to his advantage. “You were abused as a kid because you are so ugly.”

He never said such an horrible thing like what is described above but...he is smart he us manipulative he did use others people vulnerability ! So very much positive !

but again there is still these problem  about hans being manipulative ? ..who put totally in question hans manipulation in the movie toward anna and seriously put doubt about how much he actually manipulate anna.

 His smitten smile when she left also present in kids book who tell ��� hans is smitten by the princess”  the fact that anna called him lunatic and not a liar in the book a  frozen of shadow. and hims admitted he did not manipulate her at all in a frozen heart

4. CONTROLLING.

He wants to know where you are going and who you are with at all times. He may check the mileage on your car or follow you to the grocery store. He often refuses to allow you to work because you might “meet someone.”

Behavior never show in the movie again once hans reveal his true colors he show us that he dont give a damn about anna.

X

5. A VICTIM.

“His poor choices are everyone else’s fault. When he loses his job, gets into a fight, or a business deal falls through, it’s always because of the other person. He is never at fault. “You make me hit you.””

Behavior never show in the movie when he reveal his true colors we dont know.

X

6. NARCISSISTIC.

“The whole world revolves around him. As the “little woman who is beneath him,” it is your job to meet his every need. He is the master; you are the unworthy slave. It’s invigorating for him to know that everyone around him “walks on eggshells.””

Behavior never show in the movie with anna or with the others people  also we dont know.

X

7. INCONSISTENT.

“Mood swings are a common trait for an abuser. One minute he seems happy and sweet, the next he is pounding his fist.”

Honestly i will not say behavior not show in the movie but more contradictory behavior hans really knows how to stay calm , tolerate frustration and Someone like that would have never succeeded  to did what hans did. I think He will act more like the duke of weselton if he had mood swings.

X

8. CRITICAL.

“No matter how hard you try you will never be able to satisfy this kind of man. He thinks nothing of degrading and verbally assaulting you. “You are a stupid, fat, disgusting tramp. You can never leave me. No other man would have you.””

Behavior not show in the movie at all.we dont know if we cant satisfy hans or if he degrade others people and verbally assault them. Then  again he left anna at the end he didnt tell her "no man expect me would want you" but the contrary he break her heart and leave her.

he said to anna that she was desperate for love and was willing to marry him just like that which was true and also an opinion shared by both Kristoff and Elsa and the audience.

the part when he said “you are not a match for elsa” he was responding to anna.

So thats left us with only one thing the “ oh anna if only there was someone out there who loved you”. and trying to deduce that from  this line Hans will said to anna the kind of stuff describe above is....extremely exaggerated. Behavior not show in the movie

not enough evidence.

X

9. DISCONNECTED.

His main goal is to isolate his victim from family and friends so that you are totally dependant on him. “Your family causes too much trouble for us. I don’t want you seeing them anymore.”

Again behavior not show in the movie he never tried to isolated anna when he show his true colors hans dont give a damn about anna anymore. Even the argument between the sisters was not intentional on his part anna arguing with elsa was far from being his goal since him what he wanted was elsa benediction and anna behavior was the last thing that he needed and just the fact that he wants to kill elsa as we all know is in order to be king not to isolated anna from her family. 

X

10. HYPERSENSITIVE.

The slightest offense sends him ranting. Everyone is out to “get him.”

Behavior never show in the movie  there was the moment with the duke of weselton  but the duke was not even criticized Hans but anna and Hans reaction was to assure his plan.

so we only have hans responding to anna that not this is her that is a not a match for elsa during his betrayal scene. So again based yourself on that and deduce “omg he is hypersensitive” is...exaggerated. We need more evidence. So in the end we just dont know again !

X

11. VICIOUS AND CRUEL.

A significant number of abusers harm children and animals as well as a partner. Inflicting pain and intimidating others is what gives him power. “I’ll kill you before I’ll let you go. If I can’t have you, no one will.”

Behavior not show in the movie he is able to show kindness to animals as he show it with Anna horse. We dont know about hans relationship with children and his whole relationship with animals. 

X

12. INSINCERELY REPENTANT.

He will swear to never “hit you again.” But unless he receives professional help and strong accountability it’s very unlikely that he will change.

Behavior never show in the movie the betrayal scene.

X

IN CONCLUSION : , we dont know. we just dont know if Hans had a behavior similar to domestic abuser with their girlfriend/spouse and if Anna would end up in a abusive relationship with him. 

honestly (that’s  only my opinion ) but judging by his behavior in the movie , his plans , his desire i think Hans would not have been an abusive Husband but an Absent Husband only interest by his job and not his queen since the start even if he liked Anna at some point his big dream to be king is what is the most important to him.

So  again  the only thing he has in common with domestic abuser is that he is manipulative but even that...hans manipulation on anna...is put in question everywhere in the beginning of the movie...books...vidéo games where it say he has a crush on her.All of the rest we just dont know or he saw contradictory behavior.

Hans never show us to be jealous , controlling, possessive, physically abusive , oversensitive , blame others and play the victim , oR inconsistent.  and even based on the movie we just cant affirm that hans is someone that verbally insult person since he never show that behavior again in the movie.

So hans acting like a domestic abuser is as true as a headcanon for someone who will like the idea of him being one. 

We just dont know how would have been his marriage with anna. All of this assumptions about hans characters to me really as based on the fact that we compare abusing someone and someone trust and put them in the same case.  This is not any better but this is believe  are two very different things. 

 i also have read lot of time woman said " hans was nice to anna and then show his true colors" then they compare that to abusive domestic relationship. But the thing is that an abuser once he show you his true colors he began to be controlling, jealous, physical abusive , emotionally abusive. Hans once he show his true colors. he leave anna he abandon her the comparaison is not very great here since in the end Anna yes would have trust issues but did not  suffer of abusive relationship victims suffer. 

We also learn think about Hans in his backstory in the frozen Franchise so yeah we dont have confirmation this is canon to the movie but this is very much canon to the frozen franchise and officially publish and approve by disney : He was not an abusive child.  he never abuse people on the contrary he was abuse by his father and brothers both physically and emotionally.  (the majority of people dont reproduce this behavior once adult but reject it) he Hates violence and is someone peaceful. He is not controlling over person but situation. He has all his life being bully because he is not cruel  and hates his father view on social darwinism and how he treat their citizens. He is used to criticized and be called a disappointment. He also dont play the victim. again the only thing confirm by his backstory is that he can be manipulative.

so i m gonna finish that post with that gif who show us that Anna is not scared of Hans. something again that rarely or just  dont have in domestic abusive relationship in real life.

[asherjhemmings]

( MATTHEW DADDARIO + CISMALE ) —  Have you seen ASHER HEMMINGS ? This TWENTY-EIGHT year old is a MUSIC PRODUCER who resides in BROOKLYN. HE has been living in NYC for TEN YEARS, and is known to be OUTGOING and ALLURING, but can also be ARROGANT and SELF SERVING, if you cross them.  People tend to associate them with SCATTERED SHEET MUSIC ON A MARBLE FLOOR and GOLDEN BAR CARTS LITTERED WITH EXPENSIVE LIQUOR. — ( haley, 21, she/her, triggers: eating disorders & self harm, est )

hello all !! i’m haley and i’ve been roleplaying since i was like eleven but i just came back to tumblr rp a year ago and that just so happened to be with my baby asher, so happy anniversary to him being a muse <3

i’ve boiled his bio down into some bullet points because it used to be so fuckin long and i’m sure nobody read it so here it is condensed into just the basics

basics:

name: asher julien hemmings

nicknames: ash, aj

age: 28

hometown: cambridge, ma

currently living: brooklyn, ny

education: high school diploma, degree in music production from nyu

birthday: april 13th

zodiac: aries

sexual orientation: bisexual

tattoos: ** doesn’t have a neck tattoo like alec in shadow hunters lol but he has mad tattoos, two full sleeves

aesthetic: pinterest

before nyc (tw: alcoholism, abuse, prison)

asher was what some holier than would call a miracle or what other would more harshly call an accidental pregnancy. 

his father owned a low-life club in the city, known for mistreating employees and sneaky business behind the scene. some speculated that the operation of the club was to simple launder drug money, however that is a far different story. 

his mother began working at the club around her twenty-seventh birthday and took on a position as an exotic dancer. she never quite had a set career path, often working odd jobs until it lead her to the intimidating world of stripping.

asher’s father took a liking to her, in the same way he took a liking to most females that got hired at the establishment whether it be a guest or an employee. however, unlike the other, he got her pregnant.

their relationship was toxic from the beginning. seeing as the relationship was forced for the sake of their child, they didn’t get along great. cops were constantly called to their apartment during 2am screaming matches, a lot of nights spent with one of them on the couch. but it wasn’t bad enough for one of them to leave, but it wasn’t good enough for one of them to say i love you.

asher was born on a rainy day in the spring and came into the world with a smile on his face. the nurses even joked he looked like a young frank sinatra with the way he slyly smirked. 

but the smile didn’t always stay on his face. as he grew up, he saw the repercussions of staying with someone out of convenience rather than love. while his mother fell in love with him and hand crafted her maternal instincts to excellency, his father developed a love for whisky and coming home late from work. 

despite what they once thought, a child didn’t fix things. in his father’s worsening condition, he began to get violent. it started off aggressively verbal until it matured into a far more physical act. at first it was just asher’s mother taking the brunt of the abuse. but as asher began to get older, it wasn’t uncommon for him to a victim on the lashing too. 

it wasn’t until child protective services got involved after asher in seventh grade came to school with bruises that anyone was even aware of what he was enduring. asher’s father was sentenced to twenty-five years in prison for domestic abuse & parental negligence.

the abuse had made asher timid moreso than it made him aggressive. so when he and his mother moved in with his grandparents, he was hesitant around his grandfather at first. his grandfather tried to form a relationship with him doing everything from playing board games to watching television or going mini-golfing.  nothing seemed to be able to break through asher’s timid exterior.

this was until one day his grandfather caught him plucking at the keys on their grand piano and offered to teach a young asher how to play. music was the first thing they truly bonded over and within a year, asher was playing better than most people can in a lifetime. 

once moving in with his grandparents, his mother wasn’t around much. she was always with her latest boyfriend or with her friends. asher didn’t mind though, he enjoyed cooking with his grandmother or strumming a guitar with his grandfather.

in high school, asher became a punk. he strived in all social groups due to his charisma. he excelled with the music kids, got in with the burnouts, even was cool enough to hang around with the popular kids. teachers loved him despite not being the best student. it was impossible to hate him.

his music teacher wrote him his letter of recommendation to study at nyu. he never saw himself going to college but he was excited to reinvent himself.

in nyc (tw: alcoholism)

during his years at nyu, asher began to reinvent himself. he was no long timid or the least bit shy. he was suave and slick, getting along with almost everyone he came into contact with.

unfortunately when some many people love you, after a while, it begins to get to your head.  it was no surprise to people when asher began to get arrogant and cocky about his musical abilities. but one thing he had to fake confidence with was who he was as a person.

asher didn’t like himself, hence why new york was such a turning point for him. deep down, he believed he didn’t deserve love or his success. but when he started getting praise for his music producing abilites all of that changed.

classmates were intimidated by him and professors were undoubtedly impressed with the way in which he could perfect a beat or make a hit simply experimenting. asher liked the attention, lived for the applause he’d get at the end of a presentation. the love others had for him inflated his ego but also drove him to success.

after graduating at twenty-two, asher moved to an apartment in brooklyn and immediately began interning at a record label. he didn’t necessarily like what he was doing, truly believing that he was too good to be there most days.

but even as an intern he excelled and at the age of twenty-five, he bought his own music production company that houses over twenty studio spaces for artists to record. 

in three years, not much has changed. except his bank account has quadrupled, he’s moved from a shoebox to a villa.. oh, and he’s developed a bit of a drinking problem.

drinking started off a social thing for asher. a few beers at a college party here and there seemed to be the beginning of it. then it was shots, and then getting black out at parties and not remembering much of anything. being surrounded by famous artists in his career only made this habit worse. he was drinking to wake up in the morning, in the studio, before bed and repeat. 

nobody knows much about his blossoming alcoholism but it’s quickly beginning to fester and consume him. but he’s pretty good at hiding behind the tortured artist facade.  

personality:

asher is the epitome of smiling and rolling your eyes in the same instance. he’s charming and goofy in the same line and doesn’t miss a beat.

super flirty. will flirt w u. and ur friend. and ur friend’s significant other. that’s just how he is. 

loves verbal sparring, the certified king of it

why is he always smoking a cigarette? nobody knows

can be an asshole, will most likely get you to yell at him and then laugh and tell you that you’re the one being ridiculous 

Indecisive af

a ride or die for his friends, literally would kill for a buddy

wanted connections:

ex girlfriend or boyfriend: asher’s been in nyc for ten years so he’s definitely tried to get serious ab someone by now. their relationship was for sure super toxic. let’s plot.

college roommate: someone who went to nyu and has watched asher’s success absolutely blow up. someone who pulled him drunk out of parties and threw him their dorm’s cold shower. give me disappointed friends vibes or a strained relationship !! anything !!

half-brother:  as far as asher knows, he’s an only child. his father was an alcoholic who often had affairs with the girls who worked at his clubs in boston or were in the city on business. it is no surprise that something came from his late night rendezvous. asher’s not the warmest person, especially when it comes to his negligent father. will anything come of the brothers sharing the city streets? or will they simply turn a cold shoulder to one another? 

assistant: asher is a famous music producer with his own recording studio in manhattan. he and his personal assistant spend a lot of time together. this connection is pretty open ended so asher could be their mentor if they’re musically inclined but they could also be confidants, best friends, frenemies, potential love interest, fwb, up to you!!

ride or die: this man needs to have some friends who put him in his place plz, he’s a whole ass disaster

music friends: self explanatory 

fwb/ex-flings: this man is so flirty if he hasn’t messed around w u he’s messed around w someone u know. give me angst. give me missed connections. give me unrequited. give me friendzone. give me anything. 

[transgalthoughts]

What if it was only going to be a phase, until everything else happened.

In primary school I was extensively bullied. Physically and verbally. I often ended up crying. The issue is no one gave a shit. The verbal bullying was mostly from girls, and the physical from boys. I remember once saying something back to one of the girls who frequently made me cry that made her cry, and I got chastised heavily for it by the teacher. The teacher never cared when she or any of the other girls or boys made me cry.

I was also attacked quite a lot by my brother at home who was 3 and a half years older than me. He would really beat the shit out of me sometimes, and I'd be scared for my life. I remember one time lying on my back on the floor with him pinning my arms down with his arms and his knee on my neck, my eyes slowly closing involuntarily before he decided to get off me. This all happened with other adults around and sometimes in the same room my Mum, my Dad, family friends etc. "Boys will be boys". I would sometimes beg them to help and scream that I was so scared he was gonna kill me this time but they would never care enough to do anything more than leave the room.

So I was abused extensively as a teenager by my Mum, with my Mother consistently reminding me that no one would ever believe I was an abuse victim because I was male. This was proven absolutely correct when she once got drunk and called the police on me when I was 15 because I refused to come out of my room. They arrived, asked her what was going on and she said I was abusing her. They came into my room and told me that I might be a child now but if I hit my mum when I reached 16 they would arrest me and I would have a criminal record for the rest of my life. I said I have never once hit her ever, but I have photos of injuries that she has inflicted upon me and witnesses of this happening. She clarified to them that I had been "emotionally abusing" her by refusing to come out of my room, not even for meals, and never talking to her. I told them again that I have photos of injuries she has inflicted upon me and witnesses to this happening and I got the images up on my phone to show them. They waved their hands dismissively at me and said "it's fine we're not going to press any charges against you for the moment, but you need to be nicer to your Mum" then left my room. And then came back in and said "btw your Mum told us that at one point you tried to run away, I think you should be aware that if you do then you will be deemed to have made yourself intentionally homeless and will therefore be unable to receive any government support, look we get a lot of calls about teenage boys in your position being like this so just don't" and then they left.

So despite me knowing my rights, being completely unconvinced by her trying to convince me it was my fault, and knowing I didn't deserve this. I was stuck being extensively domestically abused for 5 years (13-18) because I was a guy. The police were very explicit about the fact that it was because I was a guy. And I know that would absolutely not have happened to me if I was a 15 year old girl and my Dad was physically abusing me and I had evidence and witnesses to it

I had friends though, people I could reach out to that I was close with. And I did, and they were supportive, and then they just got kinda bored. Everyone was going through puberty, there was an overabundance of people feeling sorry for themselves. The guys would rather support girls because it gave them that white knight feeling, and the girls would rather support girls because it was something they could relate to more and it made them uncomfortable to hear a) about just how shit my situation was and b) the fact I was suggesting that this particular individual circumstance that I faced was worse because I was a guy than this exact situation would have been for me if I was a girl was "a bit anti-feminist" so there went all my support for that. I was still my female friend's go to for whenever they had a problem but they wouldn't let me talk about mine anymore.

Then I got a girlfriend, we'd both had a crush on each other for 5 years, but they'd rejected me initially cos they thought I deserved someone better and then they confessed that they had liked me the whole time and asked me out. And it was great, to begin with, and then they started getting sexually explicit texts from other guys that they personally knew and at first I was nothing but sympathetic but then I found out this wasn't people messaging her out of the blue this was people she engaged in regular conversation with coming onto her and her not telling them to stop. I asked her if she could tell them to stop but she never did, it just continued for the whole of our relationship.

We'd been doing everything except penetrative sex for a while and we were both comfortable with that and then she told me that she wanted to have sex soon and I said I was happy to if she was, then she said that she couldn't wait to tell her friends because so far only one person in her friendship group was having sex and it would be great to have some stories of her own. This made me really uncomfortable and I said I didn't want to have sex if she was gonna tell her friends about it the second we did. After a month she finally agreed she wouldn't tell her friends and we had sex the next week. Then the very next day she told her friends "by accident".

Then she started getting bored of me. Apparently I was "too nice" but she said it was mainly that she wanted to be more adventurous with other people. So she broke up with me, then got back with me, about 5 times. After the 3rd time she asked me in frustration why I didn't fight for her when she broke up with me.

Then I went to uni. I ended up making friends with a group of people who seemed really nice and were by themselves, but as the only white guy in the group, the butt of everyone's jokes about how I probably didn't deserve my place here, my life was so much easier than everyone else's etc. All of these people knew about my past extensively. They just didn't care. I was a guy, so my life was easy.

Then I got a girlfriend at uni, she was the one to ask me out. She knew everything about me and my past, all the things detailed previously before we went out. Things were great initially, then she asked me to initiate more cos it apparently made her feel shit that I didn't initiate as often. So I did. She also asked me if it was okay for her to call me sir in bed sometimes and I said yeah sure I mean whatever gets people off. After a few months she started to get more distant after sex and said that sometimes she just feels weird and kinda sensory overloady after sex. Then it progressed to her not wanting to hold hands or touch any time we weren't having sex. And eventually to her recoiling when I accidentally touched her. She then told me she had been groped by her teacher at school and had just started thinking about it again. She didn't mention the fact she called me sir in bed but I could put two and two together and work out that she'd been using me to fulfill an abuse fantasy. So I just started saying no to sex whenever she initiated it. She was also the clearest example of explicitly telling me to not talk about my problems please after she'd spent the entire first half of our relationship talking about how suicidal she was and how she once attempted suicide. This applied to her male friends as well, one of whom attempted suicide while we were together and her primary reaction was *oh for fuck sake, he's such a moron*, but not her female friends who she always had time for even if the problem was just that they'd been overthinking a bad conversation with their parents.

When we finally had the conversation that culminated in us breaking up I asked her if she could initiate more, cos at the beginning she had initiated all the time and asked me to initiate more, and I'd done that but now she had stopped initiating and I was the only one that did. And she said she prefers relationships where only the guy initiates.

My friends who were friends with my girlfriend (both school and uni) never stopped being friends with them. Even after finding out everything they had done and how they had treated me, and ditching guys who had done the same or equivalent to their girlfriends without a second glance, even if they were only friends with the original guy and not the girlfriend.

I just can't handle being a guy. My life has been such shit and I have been treated so badly by people. And I know that isn't unique or even rare but what is rare is that not one of my friends has even thought to question their relationship with others who have treated me like shit when I have seen them drop guys who treat girls like that almost instantaneously.

I hate that my suffering is viewed as inherently less worthwhile or meaningful because I am a guy, that my emotions are somehow less valid, that I can't be a real victim, that I'm always either a neutral party or a perpetrator. Even going clubbing, and trying to get past a group, or going on a walk at night pre-covid, people would stare at me like I'm a rapist and cross to the other side of the street to avoid me. I can never be unhappy in a group situation with people I don't know because if I end up in a corner not really talking much people look at me like I'm a creep waiting for my chance to spring out of the shadows and rape someone when I'm really just too insecure to strike up a conversation, and no one initiates conversations with guys at parties anyway. Girls want to talk to girls and guys want to talk to girls.

And I know the only chance of escaping all of this shit and make sure it doesn't just endlessly repeat until I die is if I transition and people start seeing me as a woman.

And maybe it won't be enough, maybe it could have been if I'd started earlier but now I will still always have an imposing or threatening frame. But I have nothing to lose at this point. The way friends family teachers and all other authority figures have treated me as a guy is not worth trying to live with or figure out. I either need to change how society perceives me (ie switching to a gender where you aren't immediately deemed as entirely worthless if you don't have confidence) or die.

[slasherimagines]

Imagine being blinded as a child while defending Leatherface pt 8

(This is gonna be a kinda violet chapter guys, so if its triggering to some, please stop reading until you're comfortable enough to continue. Love you guys!)

"Fuck this goddamn state!" James shouted as he peered through the rainsoaked windows to see the road. Despite the help from the windshield wipers, the rain continued to fall in thick sheets. The thunderstorm that had swept in brought the dark, causing the single road to seem more dangerous, causing James's blue eyes to flicker side to side to make sure he didnt hit anything.

"Why dont we just pull over?" Melissa's valley girl accent came through as she snuggled under a small blanket. She was shivering from the sudden cold that came from the rain. Her green blue eyes were wide in fear as she looked around the darkened car. "That way, when this stupid storm clears up, we wont crash or something..."

"She could be right man... This storm seems hella dangerous." Ivan said, his own grey eyes looking past the rain. "What if theres some bullshit cow or deer out there?"

"Fuck you two, I'm not stopping in this goddamn state." James snarled. "Fucking (your name), stupid bitch. Why the fuck would she want to stay in that goddamn place with those people?"

Ivan rolled his eyes. "Dude, get over her... Shes a bitch. And fuckin blind. Why would you want to fuck a blind person? That would be hella creepy."

"Yeah," Melissa laughed. "All she'd do would just lay there and just stare at you.... Blankly."

James ignored them as he continued to drive. "Fucking idiot, she always some hillbilly bitch."

"Sorry man, but you could be better off." Ivan said, winking back at his girlfriend from the front seat.

Melissa smiled as she took over her shirt. "You could always have me... You could take... Turns."

James's eyes looked into the rearview mirror to look at her as she unsnapped her bra and shook her tits at him. His eyebrow raised when she began to fondle herself.

"No thanks... I dont do sloppy seconds."

"Fuck you James... You'd totsly suck my tits if it weren't for (your name)... For all you know, that bitch was fuckin that retard she was defending twenty years ago," Melissa sulked as she flopped back against her seat.

James glared at her.

But as he went to shout at her, a lightning strike illuminated the road as it struck the asphalt in front of them. They all shouted in fear as Melissa screamed.

"Cow!"

James had a moment to say, "shit!" Before his one hundred thousand dollar car hit and killed a cow, flipping the vehcile into the air. Glass shattered as the windshield exploded, singing through the air as the xar rolled. Ivan, who hadnt been wearing his seat beat, was launched from the car, sliding through the rain covered entrails of the cow they had hit before skidding to a stop by the head of the cow, that jerked for a moment before going still. Ivan's eyes opened for a moment before they fluttered closed as he became unconscious.

Melissa, shirtless, could feel the glass penerate her skin, causing hundreds of small cuts. She watched the car circle in the hair before falling to the ground in thundering crash. She screamed when she felt her legs were being crushed by the seats. She screamed over and over again as her left leg broke, causing the skin to break and the bone to stick out. She called out Ivans name before she, too, fell unconscious.

But it was James who had taken the brunt of the damage. The wheel crushed two of his ribs, causing one to puncture a lung. He struggled to breathe as he started crying in pain. His face, his beautiful face, was cut to ribbons by the glass and a portion of his left ear was gone. His lips were broken, one tooth had punctured his lip, causing it to be broken and ripped apart.

He tried to push open the door, but cursed when it didnt budge. He kicked it in frustation and laughed weakly when the door, fell over. He tried to get out before his seatbelt held him back. He cursed it weakly as he pressed the broken button.

He had to get out... Call for help...

Relief filled his mind when he saw the flash of blue and red lights from behind him.

He waved his good arm in the air. "Help! Please!"

His relief didnt fade when he saw it was the Sheriff from earlier pull slowly alongside the damaged car and stop.

"Oh thank god... You're here... Please....please, I cant find my brother...."

Sheriff Hoyt opened his door slowly, and stepped out of his patrol car. His stern face looking over the young man who had blinded his little girl.

"Seems like you had a little trouble young man..."

"A little... A little trouble? What, are you fucking blind? We were in a goddamn accident you asshole."

Sheriff Hoyt ignored the boys rant as he looked over the wreckage, rain soaking his hat. "Wait here."

Before James could object, Hoyt walked toward the dead cow remains. He tilted his head when he found the brother. He was alive.

Good.

"Your brother is alive, good thing too... Was he wearin his seatbelt?" Hoyt shouted over the rain, causing James to once again get angry.

"No, he fucking wasnt wearing his goddamn seat belt."

"Shame... Could have kept him with you... Wasn't there a girl with you?"

"M-Melissa. Yes..."

Hoyt walked toward James and got into his face, the brim of his hat dripping water onto James's face. "Where she at?"

"I think... I think shes still in the car."

Hoyt didnt reply to the boys assumption, he looked into the car where Melissa lay shirtless. Her breasts shiny from blood and rain.

"Havin a little fun were ya? Weren't... Paying attention to the road?"

"What the fuck is wrong with you? I am a victim! I was in a car accident!"

"One you caused by hittin a cow. So, what I can gather is.... Reckless driving, failure to pay attention to the road, animal abuse, descrecation of an animals corpse." Hoyt looked at James as he said the charges. "Probably driving under the influence... Is that..." He sniffed at James collar. "Weed, I smell?"

"I don't smoke weed asshole."

"And assault on a police officer."

James jerked as the final charge. "The Fuck are you talkin about, I never lay a hand on.."

Hoyts fist was lightning fast as he punched the boy square in the jaw. He watched as the boys eyes rolled in the back of his head before collapsing to the ground.

"Glassed jawed motherfucker..."

Hoyt walked back to his patrol car and picked up the radio. "Yeah, Monty.... Get Tommy and come about 30 miles west of the house... I found the kids... We'll bring home supper."

[noxus-the-venomous-blog]

Part 1.02 Fix Them

“I recognize this neighborhood,” Tranquil remarked as she stared out the passenger window. She was tired and each passing light post contributed to her delirium.

“You should, you lived here at some point,” Noxious commented while glancing over at her. She saw his face briefly as a rushing streetlight spread a quick flicker of light into the enlarged van windows. She smiled, she doesn't get to see his face often anymore.

“I worked all day, what do you expect?”

“Don't remind me...” he said with a stale gaze in his eyes, pretending to be extra focused and unable to face her again while speaking. “I hate that you have to go do that.”

“It’s a paper pushing job, you’re talking like I’m selling my body for scratcher tickets.” She smiled and looked back to the street, small memories of the neighborhood starting to come back to her.

“No it's a good job I just hate that you have to work. Each day that you have to go work is a result of me not doing what I need to do. After The Conduit robbed that rickety bank him and his boyfriend went into the work full time. They were both making fun of me outside that shady pawn shop that makes my wrist launcher…”

“Awh what did they say?” Tranquill was balancing on the teetering point between compassion and a violent mother hen.

“His boyfriend said you’re made up and that my only girlfriend is a can of bug spray,” Noxious mumbled, glancing down at the shifter. His hand was resting on the top but covering it on the side with his thumb. His last car had a button there to engage shifting but this older van did not. He corrected it quickly, relaxing his grip in a shape more fitting to the round chrome ball then focused again on the road.

Tranquill huffed and waved a hand, “screw short circuit, that ratty little dork has no idea what he’s doing half the time. He has a power and can barely pull off an unguarded bank job.”

Noxious’ eyes darted between her and the road. “I just… Once I'm ready to pull in more cash grab jobs you can quit then we can work together on this. I’m getting closer there’s just a lot of testing and a big learning curve.” He readjusted in his seat “That’s why i brought you out here. Remember that uncle you’re always complaining about?”

“Yeah,” she said as her eyes glazed over slightly, she forgot to breathe for a moment, “yeah what about him?”

“That's who were going to see.”

“Why?” she asked sharply with a grit to her voice, “that guy’s an ass. He used to scare the hell outta me as a kid and we never really met a lot as adults.”

“Yeah well, why did he scare you?”

“Just his temper. He was always yelling at his wife and us kids and he always seemed like he was about to throw a punch. He’d back us into corners just screaming ‘till the tears kicked in.”

“Well sure but why do people do that? No one just becomes a raging lunatic overnight. Sometimes hatred and aggression is passed down through years of abuse. Did you know he used to hit his wife? I dug up some police reports,” Noxious stated proudly.

Her stomach sank. “I guess I always figured.”

“But what you didn't figure was his dad used to hit his mom. And him. His dad dislocated his arm yanking him off a bike in the seventies. You know how hard you have to hit a kid to get a police report filed in the seventies?” Noxious explained with more glee and pride in the investigation he had done, oblivious to how uncomfortable it was making Tranquill feel, “so he was raised in a violent household as the victim and now he victimizes others. I did some recon 6 months ago and caught him in the act of hitting the woman he’s staying with. I think his wife, anyways, were almost here.”

“What did you do…?” Tranquill asked, her voice cracking, knowing no good answer could come from that question.

“I fixed him.” he said as he pulled the car over into the sickeningly familiar driveway. He took a moment placing his hood and gasmask on, securing each strap slowly and then loosening it to attempt to secure it again at a better position. Tranquil watched in shock, wondering if all of this was a dream or some nightmare she had conjured out of catharsis. She stepped out of the car and made her way for the door, him catching up by the time she reached it. She wanted to turn around and leave this horrible place, this menacing feeling, but before she could run off he knocked on the door. There was a silent moment until he broke it unceremoniously. “Heh… Knock this. Noxious. Nox….ious…..knock….this…”

The door opened.

“Hello welcome to the…. Wait a moment”

The uncle spoke then paused. His eyes were clouded and unable to focus on Noxious or Tranquill. He lost himself deep in thought as he stared at her. “You look really familiar. Did you used to live in this neighborhood?”

“I… No. No i didn't...” she was lost in the moment of the false face and words he was giving. His voice was different, his tone different. Softer, more aloof, more distant… calmer? But also stupider.

“You look like Cindy,” the older man stated, incorrectly digging through his broken memory for a relatable name.

“Can we come in? It’s cold out here” Noxious said trying not to ugly smile despite his face being completely covered.

“Yeah no problem. Who did you say you were again?”

“We’re Cindy’s friends. She wanted us to see how you’re doing.” He walked past the man and drug tranquil by the hand into the man's house and towards the bedrooms.

“Cindy was a nice girl.” The uncle deadpanned and waited by the door for them.

Once they had arrived at the bedroom Noxious pulled open a few drawers then eagerly turned to Tranquill “Ok so the top left one here? Used to be filled with whiskey. Like always. The top right one is where he hid the bottles. Just like his dad, he found the fuel of his rage in alcoholism. Now look in there.”

She moved to the dresser and stared into the drawers. Nothing but stacks of papers.

“He has a full time job now. He’s been off the sauce for weeks and he hasn’t missed a single day. Come this way.” He dragged her onward through the small house and into the kitchen, opening the refrigerator “Look at that. All good foods and ingredients. Him and her have been cooking together.”

Her? Tranquill’s hair began to stand as she glanced over to the corner where she saw her aunt sitting. She was so still and so quiet she had gone unnoticed until now. The sight of her gave Tranquill a jump-scare. Noxious then grabbed the gallon of milk from the fridge and walked over to the aunt. Tranquill stared at him “What did you do?” she said softly “What is wrong with her?”

“Besides kidney stones? Nothing. Nothing now anyway. Before i intervened she was struggling with depression and trauma.” He kneeled down and placed a hand on the aunt’s shoulder. “How are you feeling today Barbra?” Her name was not in fact Barbra.

“It’s Terry sweetie, we've been over this. I'm doing ok i was just sitting here thinking about my childhood.”

“Are you happy Terry? How have you been feeling today?” Noxious said holding the older woman’s hand

“I feel wonderful. Summer is around the corner and i'm going to plant sunflowers. I used to love sunflowers so much as a child...” she prattled on.

The uncle had joined the room and thus the conversation “They’re friends of Cindy the old neighbor girl. They’ve come here to see how we’re doing. “

Terry raised an eyebrow. “No silly Cindy wasn't the neighbor girl she was your brothers’ child. Remember they would stay with us in the summertime”

Tranquill’s curiosity and fear walked hand and hand as she watched them fumble with thoughts and half truths. The name was wrong but the rest was starting to add up.

“Well we best be going. Want us to send Cindy your love?”

The uncles eyes became sad. “I wonder if she ever forgave me.”

“What?” Tranquill blurted, not intending for it to be out loud.

The uncle continued, “I don't think she ever forgave me. She lived at the neighbor’s house with this mean old sun of a bitch. The guy used to drink heavily and just scream all the time. She would sit outside with the sunflowers and pick their petals off one by one. She didn't think i saw her. She was always crying and i never did anything about it. I watched this mean old brute just brow beat her with cruel words day and night and i never did a damn thing. All i did was watch as it got worse and worse. She knew it was my fault too. I never meant to yell and never meant to hurt anyway i just didn't know how to treat people. Every day my life would get worse and all i did was keep digging my pit deeper and deeper so i could drag everyone down with me.”

“No use dwelling on it honey,” his wife said as she placed his hand on hers, “it's in the past now.”

“You’re right. What was i talking about?”

“Cindy”, noxious chimed in.

“Oh yeah. I just hope she knows i cared. I remember she was the girl across the street but she lived with this mean old man who always yelled at her… Hey ya know you look just like her. Doesn't she terry? I've never seen her without tears in her eyes but i'll be damned if you don't have her nose,” he looped on.

“We really do have to go now. Remember to live well,” noxious said as he guided tranquill out of the home and back into the van, “So… What do you think?”

She immediately began to cry. A flood of emotions and memories caused her nose to clog, her eyes to water and her shoulders to rattle slightly. She then took his hand and removed the glove to hold her skin against his “Thank you. Thank you so much. I don't know what you did but thank you.”

“I fixed them. Just a few small doses over a long period of time. Best part is i haven't dosed them in 2 weeks and they’re still making more and more progress. I think they just understand how to be happy now.”

“I just… His memory was so shot but… He seemed so happy. I've never seen him happy before, i've never seen my aunt smile i've never felt good in their house until now.”

Noxious smiled wide as he slowly took the mask off and pulled out of the driveway

She continued, “will there memories come back? They seemed so loopy.”

“Not sure if that’s a side effect or result of age. I need more testing.”

Her eyes widened. “Yes. I know others. We have to fix them all” she placed his hand on his atop the shifter. “Let's fix the world.”

                                       super secret ending

the conduit stepped out of the the small car and approached the super market. he was interrupted by the loud harsh voice of tranquil from across the parking structure . she held up a bat “HEY SHORT CIRCUT YOU FAT F*** GET OVER HERE!!!”

[honeylikewords]

I hated Hopper this season—it’s definitely not just you! he made me ultra uncomfortable, especially when he barged into El’s room drunk. and him feeling a sense of entitlement over Joyce’s love life? being incredibly gross and controlling over El’s decisions instead of having a conversation about it? I cringed pretty much every time he was onscreen :/ also he was an asshole to Alexei, and I love that Russian slurpee man so fuck Hopper!

As a victim of previous harassment, abuse, and stalking, he definitely triggered a lot of warning bells in me. He honestly scared the FUCK out of me when he came into El’s room screaming drunk; I honestly thought he was going to hit one of the girls. I really did think that, and that means there’s something WRONG with this season.

And the way he’s been yelling at Joyce for ‘standing him up’ when she 1) explicitly said she didn’t want to go on a date with him and 2) is CLEARLY still struggling with the traumatizing loss of her partner, Bob (and Jim! KNOWS that! and taunts her with it!), yelling at her as if she OWED him that date? That’s just ugly.

And then he has the gall to get drunk over it, beat other people up over it, threaten Mike (who is a CHILD and hasn’t done anything WRONG at all, and is just KISSING his GIRLFRIEND, CONSENSUALLY), and act like HE’S the victim?

He doesn’t get to decide who Joyce loves. He doesn’t get to decide what El does (unless she was doing something actively harmful, but it’s pretty clear that she and Mike are healthy and happy and not doing anything sexual that could endanger their health). He doesn’t get to fucking DRUNK DRIVE AND THEN SCREAM AT HIS CHILD, BURSTING INTO HER ROOM.

And we’re supposed to feel bad for him? We’re supposed to go “Aw, poor Hop, getting stood up :’(”? No! She didn’t even agree to see him! Much less in a situation like the one he was forcing on her! 

And let’s say she HAD agreed to go on a date with him: she still has a right to not show up, especially if something has come up in her personal life. And it’s not like she could have called or anything! And Hopper has NO right to be angry with her for “seeing other guys” (who she isn’t even seeing and it’s gross of him to get angry at her for so much as being NICE to other men), like…

Ugh, I really could go off more because he honestly is making me so angry, but I think you get it. You clearly understand what’s wrong with this and why it’s GROSS, so I feel really validated that you reached out and let me know I’m not crazy for feeling icky about his behavior this season.

Anyway, whoof. Fuck off, Hopper. We stan one Russian cartoon-loving Slurpee boy. Oh, and Team Child Endangerment. Love those guys so much.

[sparklyjojos]

[THE CHILDISH DARKNESS Recaps, Chapter 6]

[tw: gore, child abuse, adult / minor relationship]

------

SIX

The kitchen of the Natsukawa house had a small storage under the floor, a simple hole deep enough that an adult could hide there curled in a ball. Saburou liked doing just that. The dark, warm space embraced him like a womb.

Even if he should be the only person in the house, from time to time he could hear the sound of someone’s slippers shuffling over his hiding place, at other times bare feet running. Countless ghosts ruled the Natsukawa house. Sometimes what Saburou believed to be a child’s soul would stop right over him for a moment as if it knew he was there. Saburou hoped he wouldn’t have to stand face to face with the ghost, although to be honest, he didn’t wish to stand face to face with anyone right now. That’s why he was sitting alone under the floor in the first place.

After he climbed out for a toilet run, he realized that Ichirou’s wife Rihoko had been the source of at least one set of footsteps. Rihoko had gained a giant scar and lost an eye during Nozaki’s attack, but even if her face was still partially paralyzed, Saburou could tell she was surprised to see him. Apparently she thought he had gone out with Ichirou to search for their runaway mother.

After some dancing around the topic, Rihoko said she’d been just moving some of her stuff back to her family’s house. She mentioned seeing Yurio during the group therapy meetings that Shirou had been organizing for the families affected by Nozaki’s crimes. It’s not clear why Shirou would take the girl there. Maybe to try and get her to socialize, maybe to make her realize that her suicide plan had been just as stupid as Nozaki’s scheme. Apparently Yurio introduced herself as “Saburou’s girlfriend”, which now prompted Rihoko to ask if they weren’t doing stuff together that a minor decidedly shouldn’t be doing, and she didn’t seem to think very well of the potential relationship.

Saburou thought that maybe Rihoko was testing her husband. Quietly taking away more and more of her belongings every day, waiting to see if he’d take notice. She seemed to be more into Shirou lately [with whom she had slept a few times, that one in the previous book being the last one]. In a back-and-forth with Saburou she said that of course he wouldn’t understand her, as he was a pervert who did certain things in his own mother’s bed. Saburou almost hit her, but came to his senses when he thought about her scars. [And also immediately thought that he’d like to lick them and put her artificial eye into his mouth, because this is Maijo Otaro].

--

At night, the warm darkness of the storage was swallowed by the intimidating darkness of the night.

Lying in his bed, Saburou could hear the ghosts again. He didn’t know whether it was a dream, a hallucination – was he slowly falling ill? -- but the steps of the bare-footed child circled just outside his bedroom.

That night Kaede called to say she had seen Saburou’s mother walking through the Takefu train station on the day of her disappearance. Accompanying her was a handsome man in a suit, as unusually tall as the Natsukawa brothers.

The news made Saburou furious. Their mother had abandoned them and simply went away somewhere, with a man to boot!

Kaede expressed worry about Saburou, but he dismissed it saying he’s fine (as fine as a man routinely hiding away from the world in a dark hole can be, that is). Kaede asked him to go outside and join the search, and to call her more, and commented that Saburou really didn’t have anyone else to talk to than Kaede. Saburou in his anger told her not to call again and threw the phone against the wall, breaking it. For a split second he felt strangely like he physically hurt Kaede doing this, but no, he only hurt her with words. Still seething about his mother running away he got up and opened the bedroom door.

A ghost of a small girl with okappa hair stared at him.

--

Saburou realized he was still standing on the bank of the Mouryou Pond at night. From the forest came towards him a horde of humanoid creatures with long claws and fangs: the Chiuhi from urban legends, ready to eat him alive. Then Kawaji Natsurou with Jirou’s voice showed up and sent Saburou to the ground with one punch, allowing the Hiuchi to begin their feast.

Feeling the Hiuchi tearing his abdomen open, Saburou thought: Why would Kawaji Natsurou do this to him? Well, if that really was Jirou, he would feel hatred for the Natsukawas. Saburou clearly remembered the day when Jirou and Maruo had their biggest fight -- yelling at each other, beating one another, in the chaos even completely knocking over the pot with the stew meant for dinner -- while Saburou and Shirou could only watch dumbfounded. Then their mother came in and took Maruo’s side, but Jirou still refused to apologize, which resulted in being thrown into the triangular warehouse.

But it wasn’t just their mother. Saburou himself at one point pleaded for Jirou to just apologize, which could be seen as an act of betrayal. And after everything was done, the rest of them ate the stew like nothing happened, and no doubt hungry Jirou resented them for it too, and maybe that’s why he wanted to make Saburou ironically become dinner. Most likely he only targeted Saburou. Ichirou hadn’t been there during the fight, and Shirou wasn’t a traitor.

Dying slowly, Saburou thought about whether his life was actually worth anything. Just like Shirou said, he’d been writing stupid mysteries instead of expressing himself through his writing. Just like Kaede said, he’d never believed in love and so never really tried to get it. He had never felt true love. Surely there was gentle and kind love hidden somewhere inside him, but now he would die without ever showing it to anyone. He used to play Rachmaninoff, but eventually gave up on that too.

His soul wasn’t worth anything after all.

--

Saburou woke up on the floor in his room, the morning light having chased the ghosts away, but his abdomen was still hurting and bleeding, bearing a long, poorly stitched wound that shouldn’t be there. It hurt so horribly as if whoever did this to him put something inside.

There was no one he could ask for help in the house. He’d broken the phone after the talk with Kaede, and his cell phone was on another floor. So he was to die here alone, just like he’d been spending his entire life alone. But he didn’t want to die yet! He still had so much love inside him just awaiting the time it’d be finally given to others! Maybe Yurio would somehow telepathically hear his cry for help from many kilometers away and come back to help him!

The ghostly girl was watching him, maybe waiting for him to die so she could take him somewhere. Maybe he would become nothing more than yet another pair of ghostly footsteps inhabiting this house.

--

He woke up in a hospital room. Yurio hugged him strongly and cried.

The police explained to Saburou that he’d beeen a victim of a serial crime. Before him, seven other people had been cut open and sewn back together after having a plastic bag with a considerable amount of money put inside. Saburou was different in that no money was found inside his body.

As if reflecting his worth.

After a moment of relief that he’s alive, Saburou fell into the depths of despair once more. He had to start doing something to give his life more worth. As soon as possible.

(At this moment Shirou entered the room with some very Shirou-ish lines like “Hey there, Zero Yen!”, which didn’t help.)

--

Yurio stayed by his side in the hospital. One night she scuttled into his bed and Saburou thought about whether he should have sex with her [SHE IS THIRTEEN], finally deciding against it because it’d probably screw her up more and besides, he should “try to love her more properly”. So when she proposed sex, he told her that he loved her, and that’s exactly why he wanted them to wait until she’s older. [Cool, but THIS IS STILL CREEPY, NARRATOR]. She’s like “so when I’m 20?” and he’s like “no, earlier than that”, some day after he’d figure his own issues out. [Uhhh.]

She spent the next few days reading Saburou’s books (she seemed to like The White Forest). Saburou really wished she picked up a better book, and Shirou during a visit outright told her to just read Murakami or something else that’d match her taste. She replied that Saburou’s books are interesting and Shirou should really reread them and try to actually understand how good they are, to which both Natsukawa were like ‘what’.

Anyway, Shirou announced that he’s going to go find whoever had wounded Saburou, and that he’d be hanging around in Japan for some time more to tie some loose ends, even though he had his surgeon job back in San Diego. (“Investigation is my favorite job, ‘Burou!”)

Later that day Ichirou came to visit. Saburou told him about how Kaede had spotted their mother on the station.

“Kaede? Oh, that girl who was in love with you,” Ichirou commented, which earned them a look from Yurio.

During the conversation Saburou admitted that he didn’t really care about finding their mother, and that she might be happier wherever she had gone to. Just like it’d probably be with Jirou, she’d be miserable if they brought her back, and it’s not like their awful home situation hadn’t partially been her fault. Maybe it’d be better if they all one day removed themselves from that house.

“I won’t let you run away too, Saburou,” Ichirou said finally just before walking out. “You can’t leave me alone in that house.”

--

That night Shirou and Atena really did drag the culprit to Saburou’s hospital room. The man was Hayashi Tomoaki, a surgeon at Hokoriku Hospital who had used his skills to cut open people and leave money inside them as  compensation. According to the latest news, there had been 13 victims so far – as it turned out, Saburou was actually the 13th, but a bunch of the earlier victims only went to hospital after some time.

The thing was, Hayashi hadn’t actually been the one to attack Saburou.

According to Shirou, on the night of the incident Atena entered the Natsukawa House to check on Saburou, found him drunk and wounded, and saved his life with her medical skills. She wasn’t sure what to do next, as she thought that maybe a lover had stabbed him. If a word got out about Saburou’s tendency to get it on with everyone’s wives, it could lead to a scandal affecting the political careers of Maruo and Ichirou. Eventually Yurio showed up – apparently having heard her name being called from the sky, or something -- forcing Atena to flee the scene in order to avoid being mistaken for the actual attacker.

Not that there had been an ‘actual attacker’ in the first place. Shirou showed Saburou the real culprit: an old scalpel caked in calcified residue. Hayashi had accidentally left it inside Saburou during an appendicitis operation around ten years ago and only much later realized it was missing. To avoid anyone finding out about his mistake, Hayashi took to cutting open all patients from around that time to retrieve the tool. Unfortunately for him, he wasn’t quick enough to get to the one person he’d been looking for. Some sudden movement or impact made the scalpel move in such a way that it pierced through Saburou’s skin from the inside creating the wound. Mystery solved.

--

That night, when Yurio climbed into his bed again, Saburou said that he forgave her, and held her close as she burst out in tears. (It’s alright, it’s alright, it’s alright.)

“Why did you cut me open, Yurio? Were you trying to kill me?”

It wasn’t something hard to figure out. That scalpel couldn’t possibly make a wound that long and Atena’s stitching wouldn’t be that sloppy.

“I don’t want you to die,” Yurio sobbed. “I love you. Don’t you believe me? I’m sorry. I’m sorry. When I found you lying there, I don’t know why, but I wanted to see what’s inside you so much, I’m sorry, I’m sorry.”

“You wounded me, but you were the one who stitched me up too, right? You hurt me, but helped me afterwards. I’m alive. I still love you. To be honest, I’m kinda glad this was what happened. I’m relieved it was you who punished me.”

Yurio cried harder. (It’s alright, it’s alright, it’s alright.)

When she looked up at his face again, she wasn’t Yurio any longer, but the ghostly little girl.

“’It’s alright, it’s alright!’ You keep repeating that, but nothing’s alright at all! You’re not alright! Many horrible events shall befall you all!”

Saburou’s heart stopped.

Saburou was dead.

When Yurio had cut him open to look inside, was there a soul there? Surely there wasn’t. Before he could realize it, Saburou was already dead.

[>>>NEXT>>>]

[crashdevlin]

To Hell and Back- 5: Highway to Hell

To Hell and Back Masterlist

Author’s Note: Originally posted to ao3 (This is an edited and improved version). This is an AU of my story ‘Marion’ and is just as epic as that series. 

Summary: Marion’s relentless nature gets her in serious trouble.

Pairing(s): Crowley x Marion

Word Count: 3273

Chapter Warnings: descriptions of child abuse, Hell, torture

Marion was seven hours into her twenty hour drive when she got a call from Dean. "Hey. Haven't heard from you in weeks. Tryin' to pull a 'Dad' on me?"

"No. I'm trying to pull a 'Sam'. You know, I was told to stay away." She responded.

She could hear Dean sigh through the phone. "Look, I didn't mean-"

"You did, D., but it's fine, dude. I totally understand. You need to spend time with Sam. He's gone revenge horny and you have to be with him... without me. It's cool. It's been a long time since I've had some peace and quiet, so I'm cool with this. Just tell me that you guys are keeping safe."

"Of course, we are. So, what are you up to? Any interesting hunts on the horizon?"

"No. It's all quiet on this end." She said, soliciting a scoff from the demon in her passenger seat.

"Sammy and I have been pretty busy, actually. A wendigo a couple weeks ago, a kid haunting the families of the boys who killed him after that and we just got a call from Jerry Panowski. Remember him? The, uh, the pol-"

"Poltergeist, yeah. I remember him."

"Yeah, well, there was this plane crash. He says there's somethin' janky about it."

"Oh, a plane crash? Cool, so you're finally gonna try out those Homeland credentials?"

"Maybe." There was a moment before. "How'd you know?"

She rolled her eyes. The amount of attention she paid her brother was ridiculous when confronted with the amount of attention her twin didn't pay her. "Just a good guess, I guess."

"Hey. I, uh, it won't be long, Marion. He's still not sleeping, but I'll get him back on track and we'll be fine. All of us. We'll track down Dad and it'll be like old times."

"Gods, I hope not, Dean." She exclaimed. "If it's gonna be like it was five years ago, I'd be better off just staying gone."

"What's that supposed to mean?" She'd known he was going to be offended.

"Do you honestly not remember, D.? Ten years ago, Dad started ignoring me and got all paranoid about Sam. The shouting matches between them started and he beat Sam more with his words than he ever beat me with his fists. I was an outsider for years before that but once Dad started ignoring me and you went to defending Sam, I was fucking invisible. If you and Sam find Dad and it goes back to the way it was before, then I would be happier alone."

"Dad never hit you." Dean growled. "I wish you wouldn't say that. I didn't see it. Sam didn't see it. We lived in motel rooms, Marion. If Dad hit you, we would've seen."

"You were so far up that man's ass, you could see where his fists were! Fuck, you didn't want to see! And Sammy? Dad was good at keepin' shit from him. Sammy didn't even know where Dad went all the time 'til he was eight years old!" She took a deep breath and bit her bottom lip. "Bobby knew. Bobby knew what Dad was doing. Why do you think he took me in, taught me how to defend myself? It wasn't so that I could hunt, that's for damn sure! Look, you believe whatever the fuck you want, D., but I will not be coming back to the same shit I dealt with for my whole life." She hung up and threw the phone into the backseat.

"Delusional, innit he?" Crowley asked, looking over at her.

Marion tried to fight the angry tears that were trying to pop up in her eyes. "They both had blinders on for that time of our lives, and they always have blinders on when it comes to each other. If nothing else, Crowley, this whole 'staying away from the family' thing is letting me get some shit off my chest that I never would've said in the past."

She wondered, sometimes, if it really was as bad as she remembered it to be. She often feared she might've given herself to Crowley for nothing.

Crowley seemed to sense where her mind had wandered. "I remember watching it happen, once. You were twelve, I believe. Mr. Singer was called on a hunt and sent you back to your father. Dean left to go chase a girl at the arcade down the street and Sam had fallen asleep in bed reading. John came back to the motel, drunk on somethin' cheap. You were watching Scooby Doo, he felt you should have been working on your knife skills. He grabbed your collar and shook you but his drunken fingers lost their grip and you went flying into the TV."

She nodded. "When he pulled me up off the ground, he pulled so hard that he dislocated my shoulder." She whispered.

"Your brothers didn't even ask why you were favoring yer arm or why you were having trouble hearing them with your right ear."

"They sure noticed the TV was busted, though." She chuckled. "You smoked into that biker at the next stop. I've never seen my Dad so bruised and bloody, not from any hunt he's ever been on."

Crowley gave a small smile. "They don't remember anything because they don't want to. But one day, they'll know John for who he really is."

She smiled, brightly, and reached over to pat Crowley's knee. "Thank you for putting an end to that."

"It wasn't me, Darling. That was... that was you. It was your deal."

"You gave me a pretty sweet deal compared to the idiots I mark."

"I'm glad you are finally starting to realize that."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Crowley walked into his study while Marion got settled into the room he'd specifically chosen for her. He sighed as a demon wearing an old redneck appeared beside him. "You've got one of my Winchesters." The intruder said, eyes flashing yellow.

"No, I've got mine." Crowley responded. "Wanna read 'er contract?"

"I claimed the Winchester kids before those brats were even born. The only reason you have that contract is because you were able to convince Lilith that she could help you get your numbers up. If it were up to me, that one would be dead." Crowley sighed and made a show of pouring his scotch. He'd heard this spiel many times before. "She's a wild card, Crowley. She could make us or break us, and I find the boys much easier to manipulate. Don't think for a single minute that you really have her under your control. Contract or not, she's a hunter."

"She's not just a hunter, Azazel. She's a Winchester. Instill loyalty and they will follow you to the ends. I've got her as long as her family keeps pushing her away." Crowley smiled, sarcastically. "Wild card: tamed."

"I hope you're right, Crowley."

"Crowley... who's this?" Marion asked, walking into the study and giving a wary look to the other demon in the room. "Thought it was just gonna be you, me, and the hounds."

"Can't help the higher-ups comin' to check on us, love. Marion, Azazel, Marion." Crowley motioned between the two with his scotch glass.

Marion looked at Azazel for a few long moments, her breath coming in short, her heart racing as she fought panic and rage. "I'm not feeling very well. I'm gonna go lay down." She swallowed before retreating from the room. Crowley was following right behind her and, as soon as the door to her bedroom closed, she turned to him with fury. "You've been lying to me! For years!"

Crowley shook his head. "What do you mean?"

"I recognize him! Not the man, not that meat suit, the eyes! Those jaundice-looking, sickly yellow eyes! He's the one who killed my mom! And Sam's girlfriend, right?!" Crowley opened his mouth to respond, but Marion didn't give him time to answer. "Because they got in the way of whatever your bosses have planned for my family and you want me to just sit back and be your fucking house human? What kind of person would I be, what kind of hunter would I be, if I didn't try to warn them?"

Her breath was coming in short as she ranted. "How can I sit here and play pretend like I'm your pet? Sit here, surrounded by the monsters manipulating my family to their own ends and not say anything?"

"Marion, please... don't make me-" Crowley's eyes pleaded but she felt no pity.

"I won't ever stop trying. Any chains you place on me, be they literal or metaphysical, I will break them, and you will have to explain to Lilith why you had to kill me." She shook her head as angry tears started to pour down her face. "You might as well take me to Hell now, Fergus, because I'm never gonna stop."

A hand appeared on her shoulder as the redneck with the yellow eyes showed up behind her. "I thought you'd never ask."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Marion woke up in a chair, drenched in sweat, with the smell of sulfur pervading her senses. It was such a hot rotten egg smell that it made her gag. "You've brought a live one? How did you even manage?"

"Crowley had her on contract. Didn't even have to engage a reaper. She's here, but no one can know she's here. We don't want her being found. Oh, and you can't let her die. Anything else is fair game, Alistair."

"Can't let her die? She's a human in Hell! Why can't I kill her?"

"Believe me, I feel your pain, but if she dies, she goes up." Azazel jabbed two fingers upward. "And she knows a lot more about our plans than I want Heaven privy to. Just give her some of that potato soup you used to whip up for the Jews, keep the torture less than fatal and we'll be fine. After we finish the plan, then you can take her out."

"So... you're Crowley's bitch." Alistair walked over to her as Azazel disappeared. "It's been a long time since I had to worry about keeping a victim alive. It's definitely a unique challenge down here. So, did you get caught with something you should have left alone? So curious, you humans."

Marion looked at him defiantly but said nothing as he slowly brought a knife to her sweat-soaked clavicle. "I love when they think they can hold out. You think you're strong because you're a hunter, a soldier for your father's cause. In the end, you are just a fragile little girl in a vessel full of pain receptors... and I know just how to activate every single one of them."

"But you won't." She whispered, hopefully.

He smirked. "Why wouldn't I?"

"Because..." She swallowed. "You need to keep me alive. If you torture me the way you want, I'll go into shock and I'll die. If I have no hope, no reason to try to hang on... if you put me in a position where I might have any say in whether I live or die... I will choose to die, and you can't let that happen. So... you'll have to go soft on the torture, Al."

"You're right, of course. But I have all the time I need to slowly break every part of you, and unlike every other soul in this place, you won't be made whole again at the next dawn." He dug the knife into her skin, slicing a shallow cut from her clavicle to her navel and smiling as she cried out in agony.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Marion spent much of the next few decades screaming. She was usually alone, but for Alistair. Every couple of years, Azazel would show up to see if she was still alive and to mockingly monitor her mental state. Lilith showed up just twice to taunt her. She never saw Crowley and after a few years, she didn't think she wanted to.

She didn't try to talk, anymore, her voice disused except to scream in Alistair's face. She thought she might have even forgotten how to speak until the day Azazel walked into her cell with a guest in tow. Her eyes widened at the sight of her father... his soul, anyway.

Her voice was hoarse, but she managed a whisper. "Dad?"

"I'm so happy to see this little family reunion! It's not every day we get to see something so touching in Hell." Azazel quipped.

"Marion, what are you- your brothers have been looking for you for months." John's voice was pure confusion, but his words made Marion tear up at the thought that she'd only missed several months on Earth, while she'd spent a century in Hell, alone and in pain.

"It's been quite a bit longer for poor, young Marion, and to answer for her, since I know this is all a bit overwhelming... she fell in with a bad crowd, John. She made friends with a demon, a pissant little crossroads demon." Azazel slammed his hands down on her shoulders and she whimpered. "Between that and her nosy Winchester nature, we had to shove her deep into the Pit so that we could maintain the plan."

"Friends with a demon? What is he talking about, Marion?" John asked, his voice full of accusations.

Marion looked down, dread filling her as she was forced to finally divulge her greatest secret to her father. "He saved my life. Back before Mom, before this hunting bullshit, before any of us knew about monsters." She closed her eyes. "We were at the park when D. and I were four. Dean begged and pleaded and finally convinced you to get us ice cream from the truck. I was more interested in a butterfly, this pretty yellow and blue one. I chased it out of the park and it flew into the street. There was a truck and it would've flattened me, but Crowley pulled me back just in time."

Marion looked up. "He disappeared so fast and I was so young... I thought I imagined it... but then I saw him again after the fire and he kept showing up whenever I was alone and I was alone a lot. He told me when i was nine that he was a demon, but... he'd always been so good to me, so I didn't think it mattered."

"Here's my favorite part, John." Azazel cut in.

"He saved my life on several hunts." Her voice had started coming in stronger, but much more hoarse for the effort. "And when you started hurting me, I knew I could count on him to stop it, but I... I didn't want him to hurt you to get the job done. I knew it was the alcohol and the stress and the sadness you felt when you looked at me and saw Mom. So... to make it stop without hurting you, I made a deal." She gasped out a sob as her body tried to cry but was too dehydrated to manage the tears. "I agreed to help Crowley find people who tried to run from the hounds, and he made it where I'm invisible to you when you're drunk. That's why you never noticed me anymore, because you're always drunk."

"You sold your soul?" John growled.

"No. I sold my life. You sold your soul. Which one did you do it for?"

John looked away. "Dean was dyin'. I had to."

Marion shook her head. She knew more than John thought she did. "Because somebody's gotta stop Sammy if this prick's plan works, right? You would've done it yourself if you thought you could, but no, you leave it to his brother to kill him."

"I just gave up my life and my soul and the only weapon that could take this monster down to save your brother! What else can I give?"

"Nothing now." She said, looking from her father to the demons standing over them. "Just... don't give them what they want! No matter what they do, don't-!" Marion managed to frantically get out half of her warning before Azazel's fist connected with the side of her head.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Marion had woken up alone and stayed that way for a while, decades. Alistair had stopped coming to torture her, having found a new Winchester to play with that he didn't have to worry about keeping alive. Gallons of water, buckets of 'potato soup' which was mostly just potato water, and vitamin pills kept showing up with an increased frequency. So when her cell door opened and a form slunk in, she almost felt up to whatever fight was coming.

Crowley turned around from silently closing the cell door and surveyed the scene before him. If he hadn't known he was in the right place, he would never have recognized her. She was seventy-five pounds, if she was soaking wet, and she was covered in dirt and dried blood. On the wall over her head, there were hash marks, seemingly drawn in blood. A quick count told him that there were three hundred and sixty-five of them. More than half of them had a circle around it. Days and years. He heard a shuddering sigh as he stepped closer to her.

"You never came." She whispered and he had to school his face to keep his emotions at bay.

"It took me this long just to find you, Pony." His words were soft, and he used a nickname from her youth to put her at ease. "You think Azazel would just tell me where he put the only thing..." He faltered before continuing. "...worth taking from me?" He walked forward and pulled on her shackles to break the links. "I've spent years trying to find you, couldn't be blatant about it, called in favors from people I've been holding for centuries. Come on, stand up."

She shot a weak glare at him. "Do I look like I can stand?" She whispered.

"Well, if you wanna get out of here, you're gonna find the will to walk, sweetheart."

"Out?"

"Out." He insisted, helping her to her feet and ignoring the way the wounds and scars under his hands made him want to kill Alistair. "Out of Hell. A lot's happened since you've been gone, Pony. Sam died, Dean sold his soul at a crossroads and now the tin soldier who killed Baby Brother is on the way to open the Gates of Hell and let everyone out, which is sure to be a party. Sam and Dean are on their way to stop him, but he's bound to get the gates open for a few minutes, at least. I'm going to draw you a map. The soldier is gonna open that gate in about nine hours." Crowley pulled out a familiar piece of paper and turned it over, drawing a map.

He handed her the map, making sure Marion could see that it was drawn on her contract. "You make it there. You don't get caught. You make it here." He pointed to the far point on the map. "You make it topside and you burn the map. Azazel and Lilith can't bring you back without the clause in your contract saying your body can cross without a Reaper. Get topside, burn the map. Understand?"

She nodded, weakly. "Topside. Burn it."

Crowley ran his thumb across her dirty cheek and sighed. "Good luck, Pony."

She took a shaky step toward the door and sent and unaddressed prayer up to anyone who was listening. "Please, let me get out safe."

[loudlytransparenttrash]

Updated: The Left’s Hate Crime Hoaxes Continue

Remember when the 21-year-old Pakistani-American college student from Queens had three Trump supporting racists rob him, assault him and told him to “get out of my country”? It was a lie. 

Remember when the St. Olaf student was left a racist note by racist white students that kicked off campus-wide protests, white staff were abused and the college was forced to cancel classes? It was a lie. The black student wrote the racist note himself. 

Remember when the black Rochester woman was racially abused by white police officers during a traffic stop? It was a lie. She’s now being charged for lying.

Remember when the Hispanic Milwaukee woman was racially profiled during a traffic stop, when the first question she was asked was about her citizenship? It was a lie. 

Remember at USC, where a racist white Trump supporting students hung a “no black people allowed” sign outside of a residence hall? It was a lie. A black guy did it. 

Remember when dozens of black residents in West Knox County reported they received racist letters and graphic death threats by a white racist? It was a lie. It was really a black guy pretending to be a white guy who he didn’t like. 

Remember when the Muslim professor at ISU received emails containing anti-Muslim messages and threats of violence against members of the Muslim community before he was assaulted from behind by a racist? It was a lie. 

Remember hate crime was committed in Charlotte by racist white supremacists who set fire to an Indian business owner’s store and left a note saying ‘We need to get rid of Muslims, Indians and all immigrants. God Bless White America’? It was a lie. A black thug was instead charged for the crime. 

Remember when the Jewish man in Upstate New York was a victim of antisemitism when racist white Trump supporters spray painted three swastikas across his house? It was a lie. 

Remember the 18-year-old Muslim girl who was assaulted and called a terrorist on the subway by Trump supporters and they tried to rip her hijab off and all of the social justice warriors had a complete meltdown? It was a lie that she made up to cover her parents finding out she was out fucking a Christian dude and getting drunk. It gets funnier, her Muslim father has forced her to shave her head completely for bringing shame on the family and she was arrested for making false accusations. 

Remember the Muslim student who was robbed, beaten and had her hijab ripped off and stolen by Trump supporters? It was a lie. She is now being charged for filing a false report.

Remember when racist white guys beat a Muslim woman to death in California and left a note behind saying “go back to your own country, you terrorist.” Yeah it was a lie, really her Muslim husband beat her to death in an honor killing because she wanted a divorce. Leftists went mental over this “hate crime” but again, silence when the truth came out.

Remember when those white supremacist, anti-Muslim Trump supporters burned down the mosque in Houston? It was a lie. While the mosque did get burned down, it was done by a black Muslim who had attended the mosque for years.

Remember when a group of white men killed a Muslim woman and called her a terrorist while she was walking with her husband and child? It was a lie. The husband planned for his mistress to murder his wife after “black magic spells” didn’t make her disappear…

Remember the Ohio student who was racially abused and assaulted by Trump supporters? It was a lie. She made it up the day after the election and after she made a post that she wants all Trump supporters to die of AIDS.

Remember when that racist horrible teacher choked, assaulted and bullied a 5 year old Muslim kid? Of course it was a fucking lie.

Remember the Michigan Muslim student who was harassed and threatened to be burned alive by the Trump supporter if she didn’t remove her hijab? It was a lie. Surveillance cameras show that she wasn’t even in the location where she claimed the attack took place.

Remember the Muslim woman who had her hijab ripped and forced off by police when they took her in for questioning? It was another lie.

Remember when that Muslim guy had Islamophobic messages graffitied over his locker, telling him to go back to where he came from. It was a lie, he graffitied it himself and filed a hate crime. He’s been charged for lying.

Remember the Muslim kid who was beaten up on the school bus by five white kids and it forced the family to leave the country? Yes, another fucking lie.

Remember the student who had her face slashed and was called a terrorist in Lower Manhattan? Yet another lie.

Remember when that student in Arlington was followed by a group of white men and held her at gunpoint because she’s Muslim? It was a lie.

Remember when the Muslim taxi driver was shot by a racist white guy and the left were demanding the arrest of a white guy for this hate crime against a Muslim? Well it stopped being called a hate crime the moment they found out the shooter was a black Muslim and he was let go.

Remember when that Islamophobic white guy threatened to kill a whole pile of Muslims and said there’s no place in America for Muslims? Yeah, it was another black Muslim.

Remember when the viral video of a Muslim student defending herself against a white guy who was trying to pull her hijab off? It was a hoax.

Remember when recently some white racist Trump supporters in Canada threatened to blow up Muslim university students? It was a Muslim.

Remember those three victimized black women who were assaulted and racially abused by a group of white men on a bus? Even Hillary Clinton and CNN were outraged at racist white guys and hundreds of BLM supporters protested. Lol it was a lie and the three women are being charged. Of course there’s silence.

Remember the black girl who was the victim of four white guys threatening to kill her and calling her a “black bitch” at a gas station? Huge lie.

Remember when some white racist Trump supporters left a racist note on the door of a black college student in Columbus which said, “We will kill you n****r”. Yep, another lie, he created it himself and he also fabricated several other hate-crime hoaxes to gain popularity.

Remember when a black guy was attacked by a white male who yelled he was going to be lynched because this is now “Trump Country”? It was a lie.

Remember when the young black guy was attacked by three white Trump supporters in an alley and broke his eye-socket and knocked out his teeth? It was a lie. He made up the story after losing a fight while he was drunk.

Remember when a 20 year old black woman was followed, attacked and robbed by two racist white guys? Yet another lie.

Remember when a black student running for president of student council received racist threats by white students demanding he drops out because he’s black? Lie.

Remember when KKK members held a meeting in the classroom of a university and the black student who reported it felt scared? She thought the cover on a projector was a KKK member.

Remember when two racist white Trump supporters spat on and racially abused black students after Trump won the election. Oh the lies.

Remember when a racist white student graffitied “Fuck n****s” along with “Hail the KKK” onto bathroom stalls? It was a lie.

Remember when black students were told that they’re all going to be killed tonight by a racist white guy? Lie. It was a black girl.

Remember when black students were told they’re all going to be shot on campus by a racist white potential school shooter? Lie. It was a black guy.

Remember when white Trump supporters burned down a Mississippi church and spray painted “Vote Trump” over its walls? It was a black guy.

Remember when KKK members left racist threatening messages targeting black men outside a black Colorado church? It was a black guy.

Remember when a white guy went on a graffiti rampage and wrote pro-Trump and anti-Semitic slurs throughout the neighborhood? It was a black guy.

Remember when a black waitress was a victim of a racist customer who didn’t tip her because she’s black? Another lie.

Remember when a black student was pushed down and attacked by a group of white guys who were chanting “Trump! Trump! Trump!” while attacking her? Yes it was a lie.

Remember when racist white Trump supporters displayed a sign saying “Hang a n***r from a tree” and social media had a complete meltdown? It was a black guy.  

Remember when white Trump supporters threw a brick through a black person’s car and set it on fire? It was a black guy who was mad at his girlfriend.

Remember when those white students who drew a noose along with “N***r and White Power”? Another lie, it was black students.

Remember when students found KKK graffiti on campus and blamed white racist students for it? It was a lie.

Remember when those white neo-nazi Trump supporters toppled over 42 headstones at a Jewish cemetery? It was a lie.

Remember when that student posted about her encounter with a white male who had stopped her to tell her to go back to where she came from so she punched him in the throat and when his buddies saw she was winning the fight they came to his rescue but she was the only one arrested because of, ya know, racist cops? Lol of course it was a fucking lie.

Remember when a lesbian from Lincoln was the victim of a horrific hate crime where masked men broke into her home, tied her up, carved anti-gay slurs into her skin and tried to set her house on fire? Remember how it sparked mass LGBT protests and a small fortunate was raised to support her. It was all a lie.  

Remember the lesbian couple from Tennessee had their house burned down and ‘Queers’ graffitied over their walls? Lie. They did it themselves.

Remember when a gay bar in Chicago was burned down and homophobic slurs were graffitied over the walls? Lie. The owner did it himself.  

Remember when a 15 year old trans guy was sexually abused and assaulted by male students in the male’s bathroom for being “in the wrong bathroom”. It was a lie.

Remember when the Grand Forks gay college student was beaten, choked and robbed by homophobic white frat guys? It was a lie.

Remember when a lesbian couple in Colorado had “Kill The Gays” graffitied over their garage and a noose was left on their door? Another lie.

Remember when the photo of a badly beaten young gay man went viral where he claimed to have been brutally attacked by three men for being gay and gay-rights activists had a complete meltdown? It was a lie.

Remember when a gay Delta chef was beaten unconscious, fed bleach, robbed and had homophobic slurs carved into his skin? You guessed it, another lie.

Remember the bisexual student who was constantly harassed by Trump supporters with homophobic slurs emailed to her and taped to her door and she cried to the media saying she “just wants it to stop.” It was a lie, she made them up herself.

Remember when a popular gay Youtuber was beaten and had his teeth knocked out by a pack of homophobic men outside a gay bar in West Holloywood? It was a lie.  

Remember when a gay pastor in Texas bought a cake only to later find out the baker had wrote a homophobic slur in icing and he attempted to sue them? It was a lie.

Remember when a lesbian college professor was punched in the eye and spat on her by a homophobic man and he called her a “cross-dressing fag”? Yet another lie.

Remember when the lesbian racist was denied a tip and left a nasty homophobic message on the bill? Remember how it was all over the media and she had thousands of dollars donated to her? It was all a lie and she’s been fired.

Remember when a gay-rights activist was abducted and put into the trunk of a car and he was told his family were going to be killed? Lie.

Remember the gay guy who was beaten up in his apartment and told to keep his “fa**ot mouth shut” because he was gay and didn’t support certain politicians. It was a lie.

Remember when a New York liberal arts college was flooded with anti-gay messages being graffitied and sent to student’s emails, including “Hey Tranny. Know Your Place”. Yep, another lie.

Remember when anti-gay parents replied to a child’s birthday party invitation, telling the gay parents that their child will not be attending as they are against the gay lifestyle and the media went crazy? It was a lie.

The worst part? All of these hoaxes are from the time Donald Trump ran for presidency and onwards. These aren’t outdated or pulled from years ago, they’re all recent and there’s still so many more that will be added to the list. 

[miasswier]

miasswier’s ultimate glee ranking: no 81

81: Asian F

Written by: Ian Brennan Directed by: Alfonso Gomez-Rejon

Overall Thoughts: Here is a Mercedes and Mike centric episode and like, I really want to like it. I want to like it a lot. There are things that I like, but overall it’s just… Ugh. It’s typical Glee – give Mercedes a moment to shine, but act like she’s in the wrong for demanding the moment. Make Rachel the victim, when really it’s her own damn fault she was so blinded by her ego she couldn’t have even considered somebody beating her out, or even coming in a close second. And Mike finally gets a storyline, yet it’s riddled with racist stereotypes. Honestly, I’m almost more frustrated than happy that Mike and Mercedes get lead roles in this episode, because both of them deserve so much better than this episode gave them.

What I Like:

Shane being so goddamn supportive of Mercedes. You know, people hated him for what he said. When this episode first came out, people were blaming Shane for Mercedes “attitude”, claiming that he was the reason Mercedes and Rachel weren’t friends, that Mercedes was “out of control” and it was Shane’s fault. You know what Shane did? He did what y’all praise Finn so much for doing to Rachel. He supported his goddamn girlfriend. He believed in her. He told her she was amazing, and you know what? She needed to hear that. So I’m really sorry if you dislike Shane for this, but honestly, if you dislike Shane for supporting Mercedes, then how much do you really care about Mercedes?

I will talk about this a bit in the negative section, but even though I have mixed feelings about it, I do think it was cool for Brittany to not just run because she thought it would be fun, like she actually has a bit of an agenda behind it. It’s just frustrating that 1) her agenda wasn’t that great and 2) she forgot all about it by the next episode.

Mike singing and dancing his little heart out, and going “It’s what I love to do. It’s never going to be a waste of my time” like shit yeah boy.

The two scenes of Mike in the dance studio, by himself, and then with his mom. I love those scenes. They’re so powerful and amazing. They should have given Mike more to do ages ago.

Kurt telling Rachel off for running against him in the student body elections. By doing this, she basically said “Me succeeding is more important than both of us succeeding, and I don’t care if my success comes at the cost of your failure.” It’s so frustrating watching this season, knowing it all leads up to Rachel fucking up her audition and somehow still getting into NYADA while Kurt nailed his and he doesn’t get in. It’s so. goddamn. frustrating.

Mercedes pointing out that Rachel is obviously Will’s favourite, and also the fact that the only reason they double cast them is because they didn’t want to hurt Rachel’s feelings. Which, let’s be honest, we all know is fucking true. Rachel would have set that entire school on fire if she hadn’t been cast as Maria. There was no way they couldn’t cast her, and THAT is what Mercedes is speaking up against. The fact that she won that role, fair and square, but the entire faculty of McKinley lives ten feet up Rachel Berry’s ass, and so she was being forced to share something she deserves and has really fought for with someone who genuinely thought that her very existence demanded she be handed the role.

We finally have Will admitting he made a mistake and apologizing for it! Seriously, has he ever done that before? I legitimately don’t think he has.

The little smile Shelby gets when Mercedes joins her group. She knows she just won the fucking jackpot.

The Klaine scene :) So cute and sweet.

What I Don’t Like:

Beiste’s advice to Will to introduce himself to Emma’s parents is terrible. Hey, here’s an idea, why don’t you sit her down and genuinely ask her why it is that she’s so against you meeting her parents?

Everything about the way that Mercedes is perceived in this episode. Basically everyone turns against her because she has the gall to stand up for herself. I know it’s a fantasy sequence, but it really does make me sad to see Kurt, Santana, Quinn and Tina turned against Mercedes in “It’s All Over”, since they were all good friends of hers.

Basically everything about Mike’s story is coated in racism. I mean, the whole thing is called “Asian F” and refers to an Asian character getting an amazing grade and being seen as a disappointment. How is that not racist as hell?

Emma’s parents. They’re always played for laughs, and I’ll admit, there’s a couple of scenes in season four with them that give me a chuckle, but they’re actually really terrible people. White supremacy isn’t funny. It’s not a joke. Neither is child neglect or emotional abuse.

While I do like that Brittany was taking a stance against something real, she did it in a really faux-feminist kind of way. That whole song has always annoyed me, because it ultimately comes down to “Men are in control, but I can manipulate men with my sexuality, so I am in control” which is a complete false sense of control. Girls don’t run the world in that scenario, men do. And it also sets it up so that only a certain type of girl can run the world – only a thin, beautiful, allosexual, straight, cis girl. It sucks, because Brittany is bisexual, and they could have played that up. They could have had Kurt and Brittany team up and run for President and Vice-President together on a platform to improve the lives of all minorities in McKinley. It could have been queer teens working together to make a difference instead of being separated and pitted against one another in a battle of male vs female, as if Kurt receives the same kind of privilege that other men do. If Brittany was running against Puck or Finn it would have been one thing. But Kurt? No.

Songs:

Spotlight: Such a great Mercedes solo to start us off with! And such a great audition song (though, much like with Kurt in “I Am Unicorn”, I do wish she’d auditioned with a song from the play she’s auditioning for).

Run the World (Girls): I think I’ve already said everything I need to say about this song in my negatives section. Oh, also autotune. Goddammit if they always have to autotune the shit out of Brittany then why do they give her such powerful songs?

Cool: An amazing song and an awesome performance. It’s really too bad this is the only solo Mike got.

It’s All Over: This is a fun sequence that I think really shows the reality of what Mercedes is feeling – she’s isolated, her friends are being turned against her (at least she believes they are), and all because she’s standing up for herself. I do like this scene, even if it’s hard watching Kurt, Santana, Quinn, and Tina be against Mercedes.

Out Here On My Own: Again, a great audition song. Rachel is right, though. Mercedes was better than her.

Fix You: This is a good song to end this episode on. It gives it a nice closure while also opening the door to what’s still yet to come. I just get really emotional watching Will get down on his knees to pray with Emma, even though he doesn’t really know what he’s doing.

Final Thoughts: I really don’t know what else to say. This episode is pretty racist, and even if it does have some things I like, I just can’t get over those aspects. Also, Mercedes was wronged. She was wronged by the show, and she was wronged by the fandom. She deserved that role, and I’m still upset that she didn’t get it, even if it led to the Troubletones, which was an awesome place for Mercedes to be (even if that whole story really ended up being more about Santana).

[lilietsblog]

LETS GO MIRAI NIKKI LIVEBLOG THIS TIME HOPEFULLY WITH SCREENSHOTS

(update: nope didnt work. guess i do have to save the pics separately and not just copy-paste them into an rtf o well)

last time on: is Gasai trying to kill them??? i have no idea last time she was onscreen they (she and Yukki) were drinking soda from the vending machine????

I LOVE AKISE AND HIS FACIAL EXPRESSIONS SO MUCH like theres the normal guy freaking out and then theres this beautiful white haired disaster

meanwhile I think Yuno is??? roleplaying??? like she counts on him being non-responsive to play out her fantasy of being a caring housewife? anyway yeah she's done this offscreen huh. that was a jarring transition

AND SUDDENLY OPENING its somehow SUDDEN every time and I admire that man I love this opening so much and I cant take a single screenshot reflecting how awesome it is because the entire Thing is constant movement so hey Akise whatcha thinking man I love just the CONTRAST Akise:

Other people:

what is it with me and characters who never show their emotions on their face or in their voice but act exclusively based on them??? like theres this very specific anime trope of a white haired character who is stoic as fuck but instead of making rational decisions motivated by human people logic they do 100% self-destructive things based on curiosity / love / sense of duty / whatever the fuck else and in the end they appear to be missing precisely one emotion and that's self-preservation (yes self preservation is totally an emotion look it up) Akise is that exact trope and I LOVE IT SO FUCKING MUCH meanwhile, Yuno is having trouble feeding an unconscious prisoner... what an unexpected problem that could in no way be foreseen. let me guess: she's going to try to wake him up so he can swallow his damn katsudon ah no instead Hinata intervenes. hon SHE BEAT HIM UP AND TIED HIM TO A CHAIR HOW MUCH DO YOU THINK SHE CARES IF HE WANTS KATSUDON. what made you think speaking up was a good idea here

theres a meme of 'ask someone whos not in the fandom to interpret whats going on in this picture' but you know i think random ppl would identify this situation 100% correctly +- who Hinata is to Yukki. this anime is a cultural icon "Aren't you Yukiteru's girlfriend? Can't you tell?" I love the moon logic this anime operates on, that people inside it are forced to work within. Hinata knows how to put it in the one and only way Yuno would be willing to engage with it, ha. Aaaand looks like it's less roleplaying and more delusion. oh Yuno ah she figures out how to make him open his mouth by pressing on his jaw Yuno honey maybe the police wont come after HIM but after the shit you pulled it sure as fuck will come after YOU then again according to Akise it was coming after you anyway I guess I'm morbidly curious as to exactly how Yuno is going to organize Yukki peeing >_< huh, a sock aaaand Akise goes for the win! two skulls alas I already know One Spoiler that they are her parents, and her actions Almost Kinda Make Sense in that dream logic way so I think last time we saw the bodies they were mummies? but now that's definitely skeletons. huh

okay I'll be honest this is a reaction I did not predict this anime keeps surprising me with happenings that make perfect sense in retrospect, I really respect that about it OH IS THIS THE SCENE THAT SCREENSHOT SET WAS FROM NO I THINK THAT WAS YUKKI ASKING HER but Akise what the fuck are you counting on, that she'll come murder you in person??? I doubt all three of you could overpower her in Murder Mode tbh did you see her with an axe oh right you didnt :>

OH HEY THAT'S CLEVER I like how Yuno goes between 100% self-delusion about Yukki and painful 100% sane clarity about the horrible stuff with the other option being relatively normal interactions with Yuuki, memory suppression about murders and cheerful willingness to kill anyone for Yukki I think that second option really is better for her long-term )= you two do you realize she hears you as well maybe shut up okay no not really -I- know she's thinking because of the camera movement and stuff, -they- don't aaand she laughs. i dont think anyone (other than Akise I guess) saw this coming okay yeah looks like the gamble failed. the mind-preservation instinct of retreating into delusion overpowered the more mundane concerns so that's totally ventilation up there huh. I'm not sure if the gas plan will work for her huh so hum moment of truth WILL Akise send the email to the police or was that just a threat? (orrr the police might know already? he might have told That Nice Cop Guy about it) awww Kousaka's dying message is kinda cute

kinda superfluous - the police already know who they're looking for - but nice AHAHAHA POST LIMIT THAT'S KINDA HILARIOUS THAT'S WHY EVERYONE ELSE JUST USED THE MEMO FUNCTION ah no the rank increased fair enough wait what????? what the fuck @ Deus ah okay to clarify: what the fuck @ 8th well hey it worked out! I still quesiton a ventilation duct in a gassing room but hey I guess there was a lot of gas and Yuno didn't see a reason to conserve it and Kousaka's question is of course why the fuck is Yuno in her underwear. I mean... fair enough, I'm kinda curious too omfg

HELLO POLICE I WOULD LIKE TO REPORT A MURDER oh right... bad joke anyway I like how camera doesn't play along with Kousaka, while he's saying he's the ultimate weapon he's literally blocked by Yuno's head. we know who the main character is oh hey Yukki is coming to his senses! but can't talk huh right I figured it'd be the soda

*whaps with newspaper* NO NO BAD YUNO STOP THAT (she's drawn so prettily tho damn <3)

oh my sweet summer child you don't know the rules of this game AT ALL hum and the girls can't escape the same way he did because they aren't tall enough dude she's gone up against like five diary owners already and came up on top every time you don't know who you're challenging

huh she actually agrees to play the game wonder if that's genuine or if she has a plan like, I can imagine she's just been pulled into the situation and the role of the big bad setting up traps enough to enjoy toying with people and not just getting her way at the very least she hasn't axe-murdered him... or Hinata for that matter... yet

SERIOUSLY WHAT THE FUCK HAPPENED it definitely wasn't just one event tho. Yuno doesn't act like someone who used to be a normal healthy kid in a supportive environment until One Bad Thing Happened and took their entire world. No, Yuno is acting like someone who'd built up the dissociation/delusion defense mechanisms over a long, long time, like, say, a victim of abuse who finally snapped and then didnt find a way to snap back I just wanna knooooow

OH MY GOD SHE SOUNDS LIKE SHE HAS A PLAN IS IT NECROMANCY IS SHE GONNA DRESS UP YUKKI AND HINATA AS HER PARENTS WHAT THE FUCK hum what did Yukki realize that's not a key is it?

IT ACTUALLY WORKED I CAN'T BELIEVE aaand

yeah at least she didn't kill him... immediately hum

Hinata and Yukki are both tied up so I'm not sure what they can do together behind Yuno's back but I know a foreshadowing shot when I see one for all that this anime keeps genuinely surprising me with twists, it does take care to make the events easy to follow, and I like that this is Quality Storytelling

yeah but it would have shown a Dead End, right??? or does it not work like that because it's like a 'secondary' diary, an offshoot of the 8th??? I wonder

AHAHHA sorry Yuno you're used to being up against diary owners, but so is Yukki, and he's been growing more competent at this too

NICE and she'd given him his own diary -> ???? brilliant decision but seriously if Hinata did something to Yukki wouldn't that be predicted orrr I guess Yukki's actions were actions of a diary owner so when he made a new decision based on his diary (again, brilliant decision) it changed he prediction ooooohhh she kicked the key that wasn't doing anything to Yukki in itself, it just enabled Yukki to act, which, again, the actions of a diary owner three diary owners????? please tell me that's Akise and Mao and oh right Kousaka was the third one the math doesn't add up :x I think the three diary owners would be able to find them bc of Kousaka's Diary and that's the 8th's plan

this must look so utterly surreal from the side

Yuno? You're not going to drug me and tie me up and try to kill my friends, are you? This girl seriously needs to learn how normal relationships work and I Yearn to learn what the fuck fucked her up like that.

BAD MOVE YUNO HE ALREADY TRIED THAT THIS IS THE RESULT

congrats Yuno you Fucked That Up

sorry but... yeah. you deserve this

???? someone in the cast lives in an orphanage??? I'm calling Akise in that case

oh nm it's something else huh

ah that's what it was oh Kousaka everything about you was a bad idea ...

... what

it really, really fucking isn't Yukki acted on information he had, and made the best decisions he had available. but he can't control other people's actions

...are these... the apprentice diary owners? how does the system work, anyway? how does the 8th send them after anyone? Kousaka has no clue...

uh was the dramatic slo mo effect in-universe too??? they were kind of racing on opposite lanes that couldn't have taken more than like. two seconds

see that's not wrong but. you really need to up your girlfriend game dammit im just rooting for Yuno in all this. you go girl. you fight your inner demons and figure out a happy ending for yourself damn that felt like a really long episode. probably because of the screenshots here's a proposition of a new function for the tumblr staff: uploading .rtf files automatically, splitting into several posts if they are too big. thats the kind of convenience the social media is supposed to offer, right? oh hey Murmur's diary! third installment of the You Saved Me series

beautiful

you naive fucking child oh my god Murmur

MURMUR NO

so was this, like, a dream or something? hum interesting