#one of them having me work like a fucking slave and he's splitting the money down the fucking middle which is an entirely unfair distributio

[billyrussohaven]

Into My Web

Chapter 19

Dark!Vampire!Billy Russo x Female Reader

Cowritten with @the-cult-of-russo

Ratings: Explicit 18+ ONLY

Warnings: Although this chapter might not include it, this fic will include; Sexual situations, swearing, human slave, biting, blood, murder, obsessive thoughts, dub con, Stockholm syndrome, gaslighting.

“So, what are these long letters you gotta sign?” you asked, looking at his work laptop. You’ve always been curious to know what his job was like. So, you were more than pleased when he joined you upstairs in bed to finish up instead of staying in his office as usual.

"It's just a bunch of contracts and paperwork. I'm the boss so I gotta sign off on everythin' that happens," he shrugged a little as he tried to hurry through the never ending stream of paperwork. It was the worst part about the job but since he was mostly working from home it seemed like all he did lately.

“Can I sign them for you?” you asked looking back at the TV show playing in the background.

“That looks fun, I’ve never signed anything,” you chuckled when you looked back at him again.

He snorted as he tore his eyes from the laptop and looked at you.

"It's not fun. But no, s'gotta be me. You wouldn't understand half the shit in these things and end up signin' a contract that costs me money," he smirked wryly. He wouldn't be able to trust you to sign his things. You'd get a little too happy and sign all of them and okay all sorts of bullshit.

You gave him a bashful smile and shrugged, it seemed you’d have to stick to housekeeping stuff. You snuggled closer to him and rested your head on his shoulder as he worked. It didn't take much longer for him to finish up. He closed the laptop, relieved to finally be done with it as he set it on the nightstand. He pulled you onto his lap with a devilish smirk, his dark eyes dancing with mischief as he looked at you. He captured your lips in a deep kiss, you were much more fun than paperwork.

You hummed as you kissed him back, pleased to have all his attention to yourself after a long day waiting. You moved to straddle his lap, one hand at the back of his neck and the other one sneaking under his shirt.

“Much better than signing contracts,” you teased with a smirk nipping his lower lip playfully.

He chuckled against your lips, a hand gripping your jaw so he could devour your mouth as his other hand grabbed your ass. He always looked forward to unwinding with you after working. He'd even considered taking you to Anvil with him when he went back full time so you could entertain him. He really wanted to fuck you on his desk. He was really into the kiss, enjoying the feel of your lips against his when the alarm suddenly started going off. The shrill sound felt like someone shoved needles in his ears and he winced, his whole body tensing at the idea of an intruder.

Your entire body jerked, startled at the ear-splitting noise making you grab onto Billy for safety. You winced and tried to cover your ears as you looked up at him in distress.

"Wait here, I'll check it out. Probably nothin'," he muttered, carefully moving you off him as he jumped up. He grabbed his knife from beside the bed before hurrying out of the room and down the stairs. The noise was loud and he could barely hear much else over it. His eyes scanned the place as he got to the living room, trying to ignore the alarm and use his other senses. He only just picked up an unfamiliar scent when he felt a burning sensation hit him in the shoulder as he cried out, the pain suddenly spreading through his body like wildfire. Before he had a chance to look, he was shot again in the leg, making him fall to the floor and a feral growl tore from his throat, his face changing at the threat. Wooden fucking bullets. He knew because he felt incredibly weak and normal bullets wouldn't do much damage to him.

"Not so ha' an' mighty now, Mr. Russo," said a male voice with a southern accent after the alarm finally stopped. The man stepped out from his hiding place looking around like he was at the art gallery. He was wearing generic black tactical clothes but no helmet, no kevlar vest, he had the bare minimum on him. Billy snarled at him, trying to get up but failing. The wooden bullets had weakened him far too much and the pain he was in felt like nothing he'd ever experienced before. He felt like a wounded animal, and this smug asshole came here with no real protection which only served to offend him. Like he didn't see Billy as a threat. He wasn't, not right now in the state he was in and that alone made him feel murderous.

"M'gonna fuckin' kill you," Billy seethed through his pain, red eyes shining dangerously. He only got more mad when the man chuckled at his words.

The moment the alarm stopped you tiptoed to the door to listen. You heard voices, one was definitely Billy's in pain and the other was unknown to you. You had a really bad feeling about this as you listened some more. You tiptoed to the hallway and kept hidden as you slowly took a peak downstairs, trying to gauge the situation.

"Now, don't you git sassy with meh, alright?" The man pointed his gun sternly at Billy before shooting him once in the chest. The noise Billy made was loud and pitiful, full of pain as he fell back completely on the floor. He groaned, hand flying to his chest where the wooden bullet was now buried. So close to his heart that he actually felt a sliver of fear for a moment. He was terrified to move in case the bullet dislodged and moved. It was far too close for comfort.

"Fuck… you…" Billy muttered through clenched teeth, his fangs out but useless in his current state. He wanted to kill this bastard. Slow and painful. Who the fuck did this guy think he was? Coming here to Billy's home and pulling this shit. His pain hazed brain only just thought of you tucked away upstairs. What would happen to you if he died? This asshole might take you and do God knows what. You'd be seen as a vampire sympathiser. A traitor. He'd probably kill you. The very thought of it had another thunderous growl rumbling in the back of Billy's throat as he tried to move but failed. The bullets felt like hot pokers deep inside of him and the one near his heart was the worst.

The man tsk'd at his poor shot and shrugged nonchalantly with a smug smile.

"Am just doin' mah job, now. Killin' leeches like you Billyboy," he taunted Billy enjoying seeing him in pain at his feet.

"Who the fuck are you?" Billy bit out, trying his hardest to stay still and not writhe in pain like his body wanted to. This guy knew his name, where he lived, that he was a vampire. Billy knew he was working for someone. He wasn't doing this alone. Some random lone hunter. This was different and it unsettled him.

You slapped a hand over your mouth to stifle any whimpers coming out of you at seeing the scene unfold downstairs. Billy needed help, badly. You turned around with your back to the wall, done with peaking for now. Your brain was working furiously trying to think of a plan. You heard a fourth gunshot followed by Billy's screams. You winced, turning your head away from the noises and felt your body tremble.

A very intense, dark rage filled up your chest and in a blink of an eye you knew what you were gonna do. You tiptoed back to the bedroom as silently and fast as you could. You knew where Billy kept one of his handguns. You unlocked the small black storage box taking the gun and a magazine clip. You were replaying in your head that movie you watched with him the other day. You mumbled in a whisper the steps to yourself, picturing John Wick doing it effortlessly like Billy would. You snapped the magazine in, pulled back very hard on the top part and exhaled sharply standing up with the heavy handgun in your hand.

Billy had faced death a fair few times in his life and actually died once when he was turned. But this was something else entirely. He felt so weak and he was helpless as he lay there, riddled with wooden bullets that prevented him from fighting for his life. That would be it. The first time around had been bad enough but he'd come back. He couldn't come back from this. Once he was gone he was just gone. He'd never been afraid to look death in the eye but the thought of this prick taking you, your fate unknown, made him panic, fear clawing at his chest. If it was just him, he'd still be pissed but he'd accept his fate. If this was where his chips fell then so be it. But he couldn't just accept it when he had you to protect. You were his pet, his human. His to protect and take care of. He couldn't exactly do that if he was a pile of ash. The man was rambling on with himself, toying with Billy much like Billy normally did with his prey. Billy couldn't focus on his words though when the pain was suffocating him like this.

You tiptoed back to the stairs and took a quick look at the scene downstairs. The man was in front of Billy moving around but far enough Billy wouldn't be able to reach out and snap his neck. This was good, more chances not to shoot Billy trying to kill the other guy. You had one shot at this plan, taking him by surprise. If he knew you were here, he'd probably have taken care of you by now. You clicked the safety button off on the handgun, biting your inner cheek nervously as you looked around the corner again.

Billy lay there and was suddenly very aware of your heartbeat much closer than it should be. The panic in him turned to full blown fear and he gasped in pain as he tried to roll over to get up, only to fail again.

"No, no, no," he muttered panicked, shaking his head with a growl. He'd threatened you with death plenty of times. And while it was mostly just to get you to behave, he'd meant it. It would be a shame to have to kill his little pet, he knew he'd never get another quite like you. It didn't mean he wouldn't do it though. But right now the idea of you dying made him feel sick and scared. The hunter was going to kill you and Billy wouldn't be able to do a goddamn thing to stop it. He'd never felt more helpless in his life and he loathed it. Another thought occurred to him then. What if you told the man everything and asked for help? You were held here against your will by the big bad vampire. The man would no doubt take pity on you. Would you betray him like that? Would you stand there and just watch him die? This would be your chance to finally escape him, to get out of this life and go and live a normal one. The pain in his chest increased at the thought and he almost felt like that was even worse than the man killing you.

The man has his back to you which was plain dumbluck for you. You carefully took one step down at a time keeping a two-handed grip on the weapon and eyes on the man. He said something your adrenaline filled brain didn't register but you definitely registered the wooden stake in his hand. You didn’t even look at Billy, you raised your arms to aim, stopped breathing and pushed on the trigger.

You caught him somewhere in his back and kept shooting. It was sloppily, messy and poorly executed but the man dropped dead. You stopped firing when the gun clicked on empty and when the man's chest stopped moving, you walked closer to check on Billy.

Billy was in shock, still in agonising pain as he stared at you with wide and red eyes. You'd just fucking killed the man. Emptied a goddamn clip into him to save his life. He wasn't sure how to feel about it. You had a chance to escape yet you'd killed a man for him. He stored away those feelings for later as the feeling of molten fire was still spreading through his body.

"Kitten, you need to get the bullets out," he muttered tensely, still trying not to move. The bullet in his chest was so close to his heart and he dreaded you getting it out. You'd easily kill him if you messed up.

You couldn't hear anything, your ears were ringing and everything sounded underwater. You stared down at the man you just killed and dropped down to the floor next to Billy. You didn't hear anything of what he was saying as you turned to look at him. You frowned, dropping the gun next to you and rubbed at your ears like it'd fix them. You saw his lips move again but you couldn't hear anything but the ringing. You started sobbing at your loss of hearing and also at not knowing what to do next, how to help him.

You stared at him, willing yourself to understand what he was telling you through your panicked state. You saw him opening up his mouth to speak and you focused on his lips.

"Get the bullets out," he said slowly, trying to enunciate clearly so you could read his lips. You seemed to have fucked up your hearing but he wasn't surprised. You weren't used to shooting a gun and you'd emptied a clip with no ear protection. He wasn't sure if it was permanent or not but he'd deal with it later. Right now he was more focused on getting the bullets out of him, especially the one right near his heart.

"You can't heal the bullets?" You asked, speaking way louder than necessary. He winced at the volume a little, his own hearing messed up and sensitive after the alarm. He shook his head, face scrunching up as the pain felt like it was increasing with each passing minute they were inside of him.

You nodded and sprang up to your feet to get the small medical kit in the bathroom. You've seen it as you cleaned around at some point and now wondered what a vampire was doing with one. Your brain didn't bother to answer as you knelt back down next to him. You opened up the kit and had no idea where to start. You felt him touch your leg weakly and turned your head to look at him. He was barely moving but you saw him pinch with his fingers. You went back to digging in the box and took long forceps.

You felt yourself blanche a bit at the prospect of digging through his wounds for bullets. But you'd rather poke around his wounds than lose him forever. You took a look at the closest one which was the fourth one you heard, not seen. You pulled his shirt up and moved your hands to the wound near his waist. You looked up at him to steady yourself and went in. Billy clenched his jaw, his fangs now retracted but eyes still red. His hand was bunched in your shirt, clinging on to it with a death grip as he groaned through the pain.

The wound was deep and you tried to stay still as much as possible going down. You hit something hard with the forceps and moved your eyes to look at him. He gave you a tense nod, steeling himself knowing it was going to hurt even worse.

You were kinda glad you couldn't hear him as you picked the wooden bullet out of him. You dropped it to the floor and moved to his chest. You had to do this one next if you wanted to move him for the other two wounds.

You looked at him once more with a slight fear on your face. This one was way too close to his heart for comfort but you had to. You leaned down and kissed him. It wasn't a goodbye kiss, it was a comforting one for both of you. He kissed you back weakly as he pushed the dread away. He really wasn't looking forward to this one. One wrong move and he'd be dead. His life was literally in your hands, the roles reversed, and he didn't enjoy the feeling one bit. When you moved away, he let go of your shirt, trying to relax his body to stay as still as possible.

You took a deep breath and went to work. The fact he didn't breathe was super helpful to stay steady as you inserted the forceps inside his chest. You barely touched the wooden bullet and you felt him jerk under you. You hissed, biting your lower lip hard knowing you were hurting him. You blinked hard trying to shed the tears in your watery eyes to clear your vision. You focused on taking the wooden bullet out and tried to ignore how his body was quivering from pain.

He was gasping despite the lack of needing to breathe. He'd never felt pain like this before, it made him feel nauseous. It was incredibly difficult to stay still with the pain but he forced himself to so he didn't end up with the bullet moving.

You dropped the wooden bullet to the floor and exhaled the breath you were holding all this time. You looked up to the ceiling and took a minute to calm down.

"Can you move so I can get the shoulder and leg one?" You asked him with a wavering voice, your ears still ringing badly. He nodded again, rolling over for you. The worst was done but he could barely relax when his body was still coursing with pain. The wounds would start healing but it would be incredibly slow since they were wooden bullets and he'd been weakened so badly. And the two remaining ones still hurt like a mother fucker.

You worked a bit faster on the last two wooden bullets, getting the hang of it now. You didn't like not being able to see his face, having no way to know if he was okay. You dropped the last wooden bullet to the floor with the forceps and moved him quickly on his back. You cradled his head between your small hands and cried in relief when he gave you a weak smile. He was still hurting, the lingering effects of the bullets and not healing fast enough. But they were out so the pain had dulled and you hadn't killed him.

You kissed every inch of his chest between sobs and licked your bloody lips before kissing him again. He kissed you back, relieved that it was all over and you were still alive and here with him.

Your hearing came back soon afterwards and your hands flew upwards to your ears.

"Wha? I can hear again!" You exclaimed feeling a rush of immeasurable relief. He chuckled weakly, looking up at you.

"My blood healed you," he murmured with a raw voice. He still felt so weak and he hated it. He didn't even have it in him to be mad about a hunter coming into his home and attacking him. That would come later when he was healed.

You touched your lips absentmindedly at the news, you had no clue his blood could heal this way. You hung your head and felt like you owed him some explanation on how the fuck you just shooted a man in his own house.

"He was hurting you and I didn't want him to," you said, trying to hold your tears back to talk to him. He grabbed your hand, far weaker than he was comfortable with as he looked up at you. He still couldn't believe you'd saved him when him dying might be the best thing to happen to you. He felt complete gratitude wash over him as he gazed up at you, feeling a little sorry for you at how upset you were at the whole thing. You were shielded from the world, this kind of thing only happened in movies for you. You weren't used to such violence.

"I wanted to help you. I knew you were in trouble a-and you've always kept me safe! I had to do something. I'm sorry I didn't stay in the bedroom," you said, swallowing thickly looking away. He could hardly be mad about you not listening to him when you saved him.

"I know where you keep the handgun and the spare key so I just did like in the movies we watched together," you said with a small shrug, being apprehensive of his reaction at this news. He was looking at you funny and you weren't sure what was going on in his mind.

"I put that in," you began, pointing to the magazine clip now empty of bullets.

"You pull back that-stupid-," you mumbled, trying very hard to pull the slide back to load an imaginary bullet in.

"Then press that button," you went on pointing to the safety on the side.

"and then uh, aim and use this one," you concluded with actually pressing down on the trigger when the gun was randomly aimed at him. It clicked empty.

His eyes widened a little and he quickly snatched the gun out of your hands. He was glad it was empty. Normal bullets might not do much damage but they still hurt like a bitch and in his state they'd hurt even more. He could really do without more pain right now.

"Let's just… put that away," he muttered wryly as he set it on the floor on the other side, far away from you. You gave him a sheepish look and wondered why he didn't seem any better with the bullets out.

"What else can I do to help? Do you need to feed?" You said offering your forearm to him without blinking. You'd do anything to help him right now, you hated to see him so weak and hurting. He looked up at you, his mouth slightly agape. He couldn't believe you were just so plainly offering him to feed on you. He definitely needed blood to heal and the offer was tempting. He knew from the scent of your blood that it would be divine. But that was the issue. He didn't think he'd be able to control himself on the best of days and definitely not now when he was weak and needed blood.

"There's blood in the bottom of the fridge," he replied, wincing when he tried to sit up. He gave up and lay there, hating how weak he was feeling. He hadn't had to feel weak and helpless in a very long time and he absolutely detested it.

You wanted to help him sit up but you hesitated and got up to get him the blood first. You hurried to the fridge and took two packs of blood not knowing how much he'd need. You made a beeline for him again and sat next to him on the floor.

"Here, I got two for now." You said offering him a bag. He took it gratefully, his fangs descending once more as he pierced the bag with them and drank it greedily. He cleared it off in seconds and moved on to the next one. Bagged and cold blood had never tasted so good to him before. He tossed the empty bags carelessly, finally feeling his body starting to heal. It'd still be a little slower than usual but it was healing and that's all that mattered.

You moved your legs up and rested your head between your knees as he fed. You felt exhausted and shaky now that the adrenaline was leaving your body. It all happened so quickly. One minute you were kissing him upstairs and barely half an hour later you were digging wooden bullets out of a dying Billy next to a corpse you had shot to death. He was a vampire, he wasn't supposed to get hurt and even less die. It had scared the shit out of you. You wiped away your tears sniffling a bit and turned your head on your knees to look at him with tired bloodshot eyes.

"Feeling better?" You asked quietly with a weak smile. You tried to keep it together for him but you just wanted to cry and scream.

"A bit," he murmured, groaning as he finally managed to sit up. He was exhausted. His eyes were back to normal now and he glanced over to the dead man not too far away. A growl tore out of him without even meaning to do it.

"Would you uh… check his pockets?" He asked tiredly, rubbing a hand over his face. He needed to try to figure out who sent this guy. It didn't feel like some random hunter, it felt way more than that and he didn't like it.

You nodded and moved next to the body. Your hands hovered above him and you hesitated to touch him as if he'd wake up and grab you. You almost backed out but Billy had asked you so you slid your shaky hands in his pockets. There wasn't much but you tossed all the items next to Billy.

"His gun too?" You asked, looking at it still in the man's hand. Billy shook his head as he grabbed the things.

"Don't need you shootin' yourself," he said as he looked through some receipts and a piece of paper with his address on it. Nothing that gave him a clue. The guy also had a phone but Billy couldn't get into it. Micro could though. Maybe he'd be able to find out who this guy was and what was going on.

His words hurt you deeply and your emotions flipped upside down. You just put your life in danger to save him, you used a gun, HIS gun when you had no training whatsoever, fucked up your hearing emptying it in the man's back, dug bullets out of his body. You looked at him completely ignoring you looking through the man's possessions. You turned your head away from him and couldn't help being hurt by his ungratefulness. No thanks, not checking if you were okay, just another Tuesday for him. He was after all acting like he should be with you. You were just his human pet and he was the reason for your existence, to take care of him. You realized you weren't special at all, all the spoiling, the kindness and the soft touches, it was just an act to make you behave. He didn't care. Your stomach heaved at the realization and you gagged. You were gonna be sick.

"Can I be excused? I don't feel well," you asked as you stared at the very much dead and smelly body that you killed. You'd much rather look at the corpse than him right now. It was too painful, too raw.

He glanced up from the phone in his hands, nodding at you.

"Yeah, go rest or somethin'. I'll… clean house," he muttered darkly.

You sneered to yourself at his answer and how dismissing it was. Yeah, fine whatever you saved me now fuck off...You stood up without looking at him and walked away from him. You felt a cool breeze as you walked past the front door and saw it was open a few inches. It was probably how the man got in. Bold, you thought but as you put your hand on it to close it shut, the urge to flee kicked in. You could probably even manage it this time with him being so weak but his cold voice slithered in your head.

"Yet here you are bein' an ungrateful little bitch after all I've done for you!"

"You think you'd survive out there on your own?! The poor little girl who didn't know what a carnival was, didn't even know what snow was! You think you'd make it one day out there alone without me there to keep you alive?!"

"Runnin' away is the same as killin' yourself. You go out there alone and you're as good as dead. That what you want? Huh?"

You hissed and closed your eyes tightly at the painful memory. You slowly pushed the door closed and locked it. There was nothing for you out there, only pain and loneliness. At least here you had him, just as painful and lonely but you had him.

You continued your way upstairs to the connecting bathroom. You undressed, kicking your clothes in a pile angrily. You turned the shower on with a little too much force and sat down on the floor. You broke down in a loud painful wail that ripped through your entire body. You clutched at your chest feeling like it was breaking to pieces as you sobbed. It hurt, it hurt so much you couldn't breathe. You hid your face between your knees with your arms tightly around your legs and you rocked yourself back and forth.

Billy wanted to check on you. He felt that stab of guilt again hearing you cry but he needed to get rid of the body. He ended up burying the asshole in the large garden with all the other unfortunate souls that crossed his path before tiredly making his way back inside. He needed a good rest after the day he'd had. He trudged up the stairs with heavy feet, making his way into the bathroom.

You heard him enter but you didn't move and kept staring at the shower drain. You were in the post-crying numbness where you just exist as a hollow shell. He stripped off, watching you with careful eyes before he stepped into the shower and helped you to your feet. You let him put you on your feet and turned to face him.

"It's okay, kitten," he murmured softly as he stroked your hair. He was still somewhat shocked you'd saved his life. He'd been far too close to death and he'd be lying if he said it didn't jar him. He'd gone so long feeling practically invincible.

"You did good," he soothed, holding you close. He was proud of you. Proud and a little surprised but your loyalty pleased him greatly.

"You almost left me," you said, getting upset all over again at him being kind to you.

"You almost died! You're not supposed to die!" You sobbed, hitting his chest weakly with your little fists. It wasn't what you wanted to say. You wanted to call him names, to tell him how much of a cold-hearted monster he was but different words came out after hearing him praise you. You hid your face in his chest crying angrily at him.

He shushed you softly before moving away to cup your cheeks, tilting your face up to him.

"I'm still here, alright? 'Cause of you. You saved me," he soothed, his dark eyes warm and soft as he gazed at you. His chest felt strange and he didn't really understand it but he knew he was grateful. He owed you his life so the least he could do was try to take care of you right now.

You sniffled and nodded, looking down, unable to look at him without feeling the intense pain in your chest.

"I'm cold, I'll let you get clean and I'll go to bed to warm up," you said with a weak smile. You walked out of the shower and took a towel to dry yourself and your hair. You picked the dirty clothes on the floor and left the bathroom. Billy watched you warily, a frown on his face. You were acting off but you did just kill someone. You didn't seem very receptive of his comfort though and he didn't like it. It made a pang of rejection hit him that left him feeling uncomfortable. Maybe you were still in shock or something. You'd always accepted his comfort when he gave it to you.

You didn't even bother brushing your teeth or your hair. You threw the clothes in a hamper, grabbed your plushie and went to bed. You turned your back from his side of the bed so he wouldn't complain about the plushie in your arms and made yourself scarce. You closed your watery eyes and hoped you'd be asleep by the time he joined you.

[vampirevodka-blog]

                 It’s not fair for me to feel like this, is it?

Like I push everyone away knowingly and then am surprised when they leave. When they stop caring.

It’s better like this though, is it not? At least this way I get the satisfaction of knowing that I was right all along.

But to feel like such a fool…for someone else to tell me how short you’re being with me over text..going through our entire conversation and surprised I still talk to you, as if I’m an idiot who cant take a hint…

Fuck.

Do you use me just like you do everyone else around you, for entertainment? Is that what this all is?

Did you take my heart with you when you left, and did I continue to send you shipments of it through tear-blurred video conversations?

Because I fucking did. You know me better than anyone. I’ve opened up to you about shit that I could never do with anyone else. And to feel like…like such a fucking fool…

I should have known better.

My insides are decaying and my heart is heavy and you’re so far away from me I can’t tell where we stand

Together or a million miles apart.

[djarinsbeskar]

Foul - Boxer!Din AU

Definition - To break one of boxing’s rules (i.e. hitting an opponent below the navel, ear or while they are down), which can ultimately lead to point deductions if they are repeated.

A/N: The results of my Boxer!AU poll told me that the majority were interested in a jealous/protective boxer so I hope I have delivered! As always, relaxed fit = unedited, no beta. We also have a sneaky introduction to Paz in the Boxer verse which is super exciting! His concept art has been completed by the insanely talented @ronnieiswriting when I said I saw a mix of Jason Momoa and Winston Duke as our heavy. PLEASE heed the warnings in this chapter. There is nothing explicit but the topics hinted at might be triggering.

Word Count: 7k

Rating: 18+ (NO Minors)

Warnings: SMUT! (unprotected sex), blood and violence, toxic masculinity and derogatory speech, hints at discussions of non-con, somewhat possessive behavior, spanking, dom!Din and everything that comes with it.

Main Masterlist | Boxer Materlist

He might as well have been in hell. A colosseum of decaying humanity and dirt floors that erupted in a burst of dust like poisonous ash every time his next opponent fell. The hollow thump of pure muscle meeting the ground of the makeshift ring only drowned by the cheers of spectators. Masked, shadowed—unseen as they dropped hundreds – thousands sometimes – on which gladiator would remain standing in the end.

He felt like a king, a god among men within the confines of his realm of rope and canvas. It was easy to forget—standing under the spotlights that highlighted the sweat and blood and sculpted beauty of primal masculinity that it was a hollow victory any time he fought in the seedy underground rings of Akiva.

Every gladiator was a slave. Even the victor.

Why the fuck did he think it was a good idea to let you come to one of these fights?

“Enough!”

Paz’s unassailable strength banded around Din’s chest, pinning his arms to his side—attempting to contain lightning in a glass jar. Sweat, blood—it all dripped into Din’s eyes as he growled at his opponent, passed out in the middle of the dirt ring—face swollen and puffy from Din’s fists.

Laser focus and animosity spilled from charcoal eyes as he tried to break free of his friends hold with a vicious yank forward of powerful shoulder and an unfaltering purpose. The bastard had it coming. One round a few punches wasn’t enough to slake Din’s anger, the fumes of rage seeping into his skin and clouding his senses until all he could think of was making the asshole on the ground before him pay.

The practiced speed that Din wrapped his hands slowed at the rowdy group on the other side of the room. Dammit, for all the money they brought in, could these cheapskates not provide separate fucking changing rooms so he didn’t have to be subjected to idiots jacking themselves up on testosterone and false hope?

But pissing contests and fragile masculinity weren’t what caught his attention. He could tune that bullshit out like a fine art. What caught Din’s attention was the obvious death wish one of his possible opponents had – if he even managed to get that far up the ranks to Din – when he waved a red flag in front of the boxers’ metaphorical bull.

“See that one in the front row? You know the one I’m talking about.”

Bawdy agreements and asinine gestures raked up Din’s spine, thorny—and prickling nerves of instinct that made him pause the music blaring in his ears. He fucking hated the scum he came across in these fights. Gang members, criminals—the dredges of humanity he sometimes worried he was part of.

“Gonna get her on her knees choking on my cock before the night is out. Sluts like that love titles, champions—why else do they attend? Good excuse to win tonight, eh fellas?”

“Do you wanna completely destroy your career?” Paz yelled over the chortles and raucous cheers for more, for revenge—for everything under the poor fallacy of a sun that strung in dim, bald bulbs along the notoriously infamous Avika fighting ring.

Din thought you would be safe, arrogantly assuming people would avoid even looking at you once they saw who you were with. And you had been—you were safe, but even he couldn’t protect you from the thoughts of others.

The larger man struggled with him, dragging him out of the ring when it was obvious his words were falling on deaf ears. All Din could hear was the little pricks voice in his head from hours before.

Din stood.

Inhaled, exhaled—tried those bullshit breathing exercises that were supposed to focus his mind before a fight. Help to rein in a temper like his from overflowing in devastating tidal waves to destroy all around him. Din didn’t lose his temper often—but when he did, it was lethal.

The breathing exercises didn’t work.

Because the idiot kept talking.

“Did you see the ass on that?”

Leers sounded from his group of friends. Encouraging the vile words that Din always knew came from a man who felt entitled to a woman’s body. He had seen enough of the underbelly of the world to know what that led to time and again. Din might have been shameless in his youth and even until recently when it came to sex, to one night stands, to women—but he fucking respected the girls he fucked or didn’t fuck.

“Traipsing around in a dress like that? She’s looking for the attention,” the asshole defended himself when one of his party voiced an alternative point of view. They were promptly shut down and didn’t speak again.

Din’s blood turned to ice. An image of you running a hand down his arm on your way to your seat when you parted ways for him to get ready, dress sinfully tight but effortlessly classy—a zip front he was dying to pull open with his teeth later that night.

“It’ll look so good with my cock buried in it…”

The ice in his blood turned to fury, white hot and molten as he tied off the tape at his wrists—throwing the roll into the dingy locker he had been given for the evening. The clatter of noise from where it slammed against the metal back was the only warning he was planning on giving them. The lull of conversation was fleeting, his warning going unheeded—when dim-witted morons didn’t read the murder in his gaze.

Looks like they weren’t nearly as intelligent as the pigs he thought them to be.

Grabbing his water bottle and phone, Din stalked towards the chipped door—distracting himself with a text of “don’t go anywhere alone in this place, sweetheart. Ask Paz to go with you” sent to you without a second thought.

The immediate response of “Yes yes I know, for the thousandth time. Don’t worry and focus on yourself” did little to assuage the roar of blood in his ears. There was only one thing he heard over the noise, one thing as his vision became hued in red and fixated on a single target.

“Wonder if she’ll let me fuck her there too—can’t imagine she’s a virgin but her ass will still probably be tighter than her cunt.”

Bald headed and littered in scars and tattoos of a gang known for their viciousness, the other boxer – if he could even be called that – thrust vulgarly into the air, mimicking the hold he would have on the girl. Din’s girl.

The fucker had a death wish.

And Din was only too happy to play the part of the grim reaper.

His friends voice hardly registered over that same ringing in his ears, the roar of protective aggression at the lecherous sneer on the other man’s face who now lay in a heap in the dirt, the filth he spewed about his masseuse, his girl. How beady eyes, cold and villainous dared to drift away from Din before the bell sounded—over his shoulder, to where he knew you were sitting. Knowing your body had been tainted by the gaze of a man who would sooner take what he wanted from you by force than look at you with anything akin to the respect you deserved—it made something snap inside of Din.

And he attacked.

He was lucky he had only been disqualified.

He was damn lucky no one called the cops.

But the perks of underground fighting, was that everyone who attended had something to hide. And no one wanted to be caught in the middle of shady transactions or betting on fighters to beat each other to a pulp. Hell, the savagery Din subjected the other guy to was exactly what half the fuckers who showed up hoped to see.

Din wasn’t just a nameless street fighter though, not anymore. He had something to lose. Any smear on his record for assault and he would be suspended from tournament participation quicker than the asshole’s body dropped after a crushing blow under the jaw by Din’s right uppercut.

Thank fuck Din’s main sponsor was equally as shady. A good man by Din’s logic, but merciless when it came to succeeding. Din being benched was the surest way to make his benefactors patience run out. No, Paz was right—Boba even more so when he clocked Din good in the cheek after Paz wrestled the irate male out of the ring.

“You fucking idiot, bloodlust is an ugly image, boy—”

“I am not a boy—” Din snapped at Boba, teeth bared and bloody from his split lip, neck straining when he spat the words viciously at his long-time coach. He ran his tongue over the metallic tang of blood before spitting it out of his mouth onto the dirt flooring by the chaotic rows of metal seating.

“You almost killed a guy in the ring, you little shit,” Boba snarled with equal venom, matching the anger reflected in Din’s gaze with furious sense Din didn’t want to witness.

“Let me go,” was all Din growled, eyes never leaving his coach’s even when Paz loosened his arms around his chest. Heaving, coal black eyes darkened dangerously and stabbed the former boxer with a dare to try and restrain him again. The other man shook a rope of dreadlock that had come loose from the strip of leather he kept his hair tied in and made to say something when Din interrupted,

“Where is she?”

Paz closed his mouth, heavy brows furrowing over his eyes as recognition dawned in their dark hues,

“Is that what this is about? Dammit, vod—it’s not like she’s your girlfriend, isn’t that what you always say?”

“Don’t fucking try me tonight—” Din snapped aggressively, the threatening hum between the two men charged to dangerous voltage.

“Din?”

Your voice washed over him – aloe on the burns his fury had scorched his skin with – and he was making his way over to you in the next moment, mind battling with instinct as he ignored the calls and curses of his friends.

Mine.

Not yours—

Mine.

He moved with feral grace, parting the sea of people who bleated from the sidelines but cowered in his presence once his attention was facing them and there was no canvas or rope to separate boxer from spectator. They were lucky. He didn’t see them. Would step on them if they were stupid enough to stay in his path. All he could see, was you—watching him with confusion and concern marring those pretty features, absent of fear in the face of an incensed, adrenaline fueled boxer post fight.

He exhaled a growl as he came to stand before you, the sound cavernous and deep in his chest—the hands you had lifted to examine his face intercepted by his own when he grabbed them. His fingers wrapped fully around your wrists, and he was reminded of how fragile you were – even if you worked out whenever you could and had a will of iron that would make you whack him for saying that – and just how easily a man like him, any of the fighters here tonight—could hurt you.

Never.

They wouldn’t dare.

Not with him around.

But how could they know?

How would they know to stay the fuck away from you?

Knuckles stained with dirt and blood; his hand rasped against the softness of your palm as he dragged you in the direction of the unused backstage waiting room fighters had been offered as a changing room. Where this whole fucking thing started.

“Din—Din, what the hell happened up there?”

You jogged behind him to keep up with his pace, long legs taking him farther than your shorter ones could when confined to the heels you had worn for the night out. He stalked through the dimly lit corridors to the flaky, chipped door with a temporary sign on lined paper with “ATHLETES” scrawled along the front of it like some ironic joke.

He almost bent the worn, cheap metal handle in half—nearly pulled it from its socket with how hard he tore the door open and dragged you over the threshold inside.

You whirled on him with a huff, eyes flashing and hands planting on your hips in growing annoyance.

“Din will you just—”

You didn’t get another word out.

His wrapped hands cupped your cheeks between them, his mouth on yours hungrily when he bent over you. Biting, clawing, desperate—the kiss was more a battle of tongue and teeth than anything else. There was nothing soft, nothing slow or affectionate about the way his teeth sank into your bottom lip so hard you gasped. The way the blood seeping from his split lip painted yours in a crimson rouge—smeared and varnishing you in a visceral mark of his claim.

“Mine,” he snarled unknowingly into your mouth, lapping his tongue along the prairies of your tastebuds, plundering the depths of your mouth to brand every inch of you he could reach. Inside and out. His hands had the same idea, forming down over the shape of your curves as he walked you back blindly to the disused vanity pushed against the closest wall. Topped with a row of mirrors undoubtedly used by performers for whatever this place had once been used for, the glass was now aged with discoloration.

It didn’t matter.

He didn’t have eyes for anything but you as he hiked your legs up to perch you on the edge, your fingers curled into the taut muscles at his neck and clawing down over the sweat slick muscles of his pecs—catching on flat nipples that made ripples of pleasure heat his body further. Mad him tangle a hand in your hair, yank your head back harshly and meet your eyes with dark desire before dropping to your neck. His newest target.

“Din…” your irritated, questioning tone had morphed to fervent sighs. His tongue mapped a trail from the corner of your mouth – tasting the tang of his own blood – to the rapid tattoo of your pulse, a delicate sheen of perspiration beginning to shimmer on your flushed skin from the arousal. Another layer of flavor for him to get drunk on.

So fucking hot under his hands.

So beautiful.

So his.

“Mine,” he repeated into the curve of your neck, framed by tremulous stretches of muscle either side that he carved with scrapes of his teeth to leave tracks of slow fading pink grazes before he bit into it. Your legs – already open and inviting him to settle between them – crossed at the ankles around his narrow hips to keep him close. It was fucking intoxicating the way he could make you feel, the desperate need he had for you.

Months of sleeping together, of knowing his body so intimately had given you a rare insight to his emotions whether he knew it or not. And you knew he didn’t need to talk right now, he needed to fuck. To work through whatever had affected him so badly in hard kisses and rough hands on your soft flesh. It didn’t stop your stomach from flipping at his possessive words though, deliriously spoken but whispering the unacknowledged desires you had for him beyond his body.

“Yours,” you admitted before you could stop yourself, your hand cupping under his jaw to lift his mouth back to yours. His raspy moan at your agreement turned positively filthy when you carded short nails through his damp hair. Din was weak to having his hair stroked, his staunch dominance buckling in violent shivers of pleasure when you dragged those skilled fingers down the back of his skull and neck.

Traipsing around in a dress like that…

His eyes flew open, and he broke the kiss—ripped his mouth from yours to press his forehead to yours, eyes searching while his free hand ran indulgently up your torso to the neckline of your dress,

“Never let anyone disrespect you, sweetheart—” he rumbled, his fingers already undoing the zip of the dress, the nude pink material tempting to the eye and celebrating those features you were most proud of—that he found irresistible to know you loved. That someone could make you uncomfortable in those clothes… fucker. He snarled and pressed a long kiss to your mouth, large hands spreading the sides of the dress open wide – no underwear, baby? – and shucked the material down your arms to leave you bare before him.

His appreciation for your body – fucking gorgeous – was only tampered by the frustration he had with himself at the noise of confusion you made at his words. Of course, you hadn’t heard anything that asshole had said thankfully—but fuck, he couldn’t get it out of his head. You read his desperation somehow, and nodded slowly with puzzled eyes, teeth sinking into your swollen bottom lip as you leaned back on your hands.

So trusting…

Fuck.

It made alarm and something akin to fear rise swell uncomfortably in his throat.

He tried again.

“Never let anyone take advantage of you,” he whispered against your mouth in earnest, his hands running up your bare thighs to press his thumbs into the seams of your legs and hips, “tell me—”

His mouth dropped to your collarbone, funneling those feelings into lapping down to your heaving breasts, sucking a nipple into his mouth with a groan and befuddling your mind to his request until he nipped the swollen peak – say it, baby – and caused your head to fall back against the mirror,

“Yes—yes,” you moaned, “I won’t—”

He snarled internally, dammit. Hearing you say it didn’t help. He wanted to say how he wouldn’t let anyone disrespect you, how he wouldn’t let anyone ever take advantage of you. But he couldn’t. Had to frame it like advice he would give any woman he knew instead of speaking it like the promise he wanted to make.

Din had been fucking you for the last few months now, exclusively after only a few months—but it never went beyond that. He had no reason, no excuse to be worried over your life or safety or what you did when you weren’t in his bed. He wasn’t expected to be involved in your life the way a friend or family member was. Not the way a boyfriend was.

He didn’t do relationships. Never had. Too much trouble and frankly—he liked his privacy, his space—and liked not being accountable to anyone but himself. The consequences of any shitty decisions he made would fall on him and him alone. If he demanded that of the women he slept with and then insisted on inserting himself into their lives in the next breath, he would be a hypocrite. And Din hated hypocrites.

He couldn’t.

But fuck. He never wanted to hear someone speak that way about you, never wanted them to think they had the slightest chance with a woman like you. His blood boiled at the notion of someone else’s hands on you, his tempered flared when he imagined your pleasure or smiles, or laughter give to someone who didn’t deserve you.

Like he did?

Fuck no, he knew he didn’t.

He never said he wasn’t selfish though, and he coveted you with sinful greed.

“Fuck me, baby—please, please—” you mewled into his neck as your hands that had started all of this with that first massage, fit into the sliver of space between your bodies to stroke along his cock over his shorts impatiently. His head fell back, and his mind blissfully emptied for a moment, grunting your name at the frisson of pleasure before those damned memories resurfaced again.

Look at the ass on that.

That.

Her. You weren’t a thing, a possession. You were—

He snarled. Misplaced anger manifesting in aggressive passion as he grabbed your wrist from where you stroked him to pin behind your back on the vanity.

“Always so eager, aren’t you—” he grinned darkly when you nodded, “turn around.”

The command was delivered low and dangerous, more a rumble of noise—deep echoes of jungle predators crackling like the kindling of threat, inspiring awareness that one wrong move would be fatal. But you never made a wrong move—not for as long as he had known you. Whether it was alleviating a pain deep in his muscles that had bothered him for months or pushing yourself slowing off the vanity to your feet as you were now—you always knew what he needed.

Wisps of hair fell into his eyes as he watched you—the decided turn of your naked body to dace the mirror—eyes never leaving his even as they caught them again in the aged glass. Bending forward, your ass pressed into the front of his shorts, and you rested your elbows on the vanity.

Perfect.

He didn’t realize he had whispered the word as he pressed his mouth between your shoulder blades, tongue trailing down the arch of your spine while his hands kneaded plush cheeks—spreading them and exposing your slick cunt to the cool air. The hitches in your breath, small squirms of your hips for relief—they all fed into his desire for you.

And he desired you. Constantly.

“I’m gonna eat your pussy until you can’t stand, baby—and then I’m gonna fuck you until you can’t speak,” he muttered against the shell of your ear, massive bulk bowed over your back and shadowed eyes – the duality of warm walnut and lethal obsidian – bore into yours through the glass.

“I want them all to know who you belong to,” he nipped your ear, flicking his tongue along the cartilage—the black ink on his back catching the light as his muscles rippled with movement, a roll of pleasure from your ass grinding back against him with a whimper of his name, “so don’t be quiet this time, sweetheart.”

Your eyes fluttered open molasses slow from where they had dropped closed at his words,

“What—what hap—” you tried to turn your head, the concern mingled with lust in those gorgeous, honest eyes making warning bells blare painfully – too close – and he silenced you with a kiss. Swallowing the worry that hinted at feelings that surpassed those expected from a fuck buddy, he buried it deep inside himself, in the shadows like a coward. To be locked away where he would remain safe from it.

Your tongue grew sloppy with a moan when he ground his crotch into your ass—dragging the solid thickness of his clothed cock between your soaked folds and up against your tight rear entrance.

Wonder if she’ll let me take her there…

Bastard.

He sucked on your tongue with a groan of your name, hand releasing your cheeks to fan up your ribcage and cup your breasts. You jerked in sensitivity when rough hands pinched sore nipples – he fucking loved how sensitive your tits got just before your period. The cry you released was nothing short of musical, tempting him lower as he kissed down your spine—wrapped hands sanding down over your ribs again when he lapped around the rim of your ass, circling it before he traced lower.

You were dripping.

He dropped to his knees behind you, eyes drunken with an ingrained pride that he was the one in this position, looking at the petals of your swollen pussy glistening with arousal he inspired from just a few kisses and rolls of his hips. He kept his eyes on the steady trickle of wetness from your twitching entrance, his teeth grazing distractedly down the back of your thigh as he did so.

A finger ruddy with flecks of dried blood caught a string of your arousal – don’t waste a drop – and he sucked it between his lips with an approving groan, the noise of your whimpers the perfect accompaniment. Blood and lust. The essence of humanity, that was what he tasted when he sucked his finger clean. It tasted like life. And he wanted more.

A sharp crack echoed through the room when his hand came down hard on one cheek, and again... and again—each strike making that dripping wetness gush until he couldn’t hold back anymore. He buried his face in your cunt, nosing at your entrance and tongue spreading puffy lips apart so he could trace in pitter patter swipes through your folds—greedily gathering anything he could get on his tongue before swallowing. Dehydrated on the sands of depravity and sordid company—your cunt was an oasis of relief where he eagerly drank his fill.

You tried to move, your hips slamming up against the edge of the vanity – that’ll bruise – and you keened with a shuddering cry when his mouth simply followed your attempt to escape the onslaught of pleasure that was too much too soon.

“Fuck—fuckfuckfuck—” you gasped, dropping a hand back to tangle in his hair, dragging him closer despite your protests. Mm, he loved when you got like this—overstimulated from the first touch. No matter how much you whined, no matter how many times he wiped tears that smudged your makeup when he unraveled orgasm after orgasm from the knots inside you—he knew you loved the intensity as much as he did.

He spanked you again – take it – your cheeks red and beautiful when he spread them side for him to spit directly onto your quivering cunt. His saliva dribbled and mixed with your juices to gather over your clit, his mouth forming over the little bud enthusiastically, urged by your slow ruts back against his face to streak his face with your essence.

“More—” you whimpered.

“Greedy—” he growled back.

The sound of your breathless laugh meshed delightfully with the swallow of a moan – guttural and primal – and made his cock twitch in his shorts. His hips snapped up uselessly from where he was kneeling—finding no purchase or warm embrace to bury itself in as his tongue took that pleasure for itself.

It licked and curled with practiced, seemingly illogical strokes along your clit and up to your entrance—sloppily kissing it before his tongue dove into your tight depths, thumb working in quick circles over your clit. He knew exactly what to do to make you come undone.

Your first orgasm was sudden—strong and surprising. He hadn’t even fucking fingered you and you were already spasming around nothing. Your muscles tensed as you went on your toes to lean even further on the vanity, trying to escape his tongue that worked you through each wave—drowning you in the pleasure he knew only he could give you. You were his. His his his his h—

You sobbed his name, a raw answer to his internal mantra his mind struggled against and failed to overcome.

Din wanted you.

He wanted your body, your mind, your time—he wanted what Paz had.

Fuck.

The way the older man mooned and gazed with shameless adoration for the little baker he had fallen for in so short a time. Hell, Din teased him over it constantly. And maybe he didn’t want that—but he wanted something. Din wanted something with you. Wanted you to visit him in the gym and stop him mid set just to kiss him and tell him that you would wait for him to finish so you could go home together. He wanted to buy you flowers without having to think of a fucking excuse like last time to distance himself from the sentimentality. He wanted to open his front door and feel our presence as more than just a visitor. That a toothbrush and the stray pieces of clothing you forgot at his place would turn to shoes at the door and your taste in décor mixing with his.

Din wanted you.

But he had no idea how to do anything but fuck you. He didn’t know how to date or be romantic. Was clueless to things like companionship—to the softer emotions he knew you craved. That all people craved. Din had no idea how to do any of it.

You lay with your cheek on the wooden surface of the vanity, eyes half-closed and spacey as you watched him lift his head from your pussy, face shiny from your release and when he licked over his lips, still hungry for more—you mewled.

“Don’t tap out on me yet, sweetheart.”

You shook your head, a whimper and almost childish refusal while your cheek remained plastered to the vanity, all strength having left your body and an adorable pout trying to lie and tell him you couldn’t take any more.

“Mm, yes you can—” he answered you, dragging his mouth back up your slit and along your tight ass where he lapped at the rim again. Later. It took time for him to stretch you to take his size—it was better left for when he had you in his apartment and could take his time.

His hand followed his mouths direction as it continued up to meet your mouth—smirking against your lips at the whimpers you made from the slaps he gave your pussy—the obscene, wet sound filling the area with each slap slap slap until his hand was damn near slipping every time he struck your cunt from how wet it was.

A bang on the door—a harsh slap to your pussy so you would moan just right for him, and he growled out a threatening “occupied” to whoever was outside. You were too high strung to even notice.

“No one else can have you,” he rasped darkly into your temple, his free hand tangling in the strands to pull your head back against his shoulder—the position no doubt edging on uncomfortable with the way your spine and neck were arched back—moUlded into his hard frame. Your eyes fell to half mast even as your lips parted—still smeared with specks of blood you hadn’t yet licked or chewed off—and he bit your jaw in warning.

“No one else—” you parroted, your hot breath fanning over his cheek even as you rocked back against him, a steel confidence entering your fucked out gaze—mercurial in the swirling heat, “just like no one else can have you.”

The boldness of your words, the conviction spoken in that voice of wooden flutes and bubbling creeks made his blood light with fire—yes. As much as he anted you, he yearned for you to crave him in return.

“No one else,” he repeated your words back to you, rutting his hips against you when his cock pulsed with a negligent ache that demanded to be addressed. He kept one hand in your hair when he pushed his shorts down enough to free his leaking cock, the turgid length swollen and angry as he rubbed the tip between your lips.

Maybe he would buy you flowers tomorrow, after all.

Din gave you no time to prepare yourself – that’s my girl – sliding inside you with one brutal thrust that had you pushed up against the mirror and his cock engulfed in fiery bliss. He felt the heat run up his spine, a volcanic metamorphism into marble as his muscles froze in an immediate pause to stop himself from spilling inside you after one damn thrust.

You weren’t doing much better—one hand clawing for purchase on the mirror and the other digging your nails into his hip as you panted his name, an incoherent string of curses and praise as your sensitive walls convulsed around him. The position had him pressed right against that one spot he cock curved up against that could make you see stars and your care for being caught dissipate in cries of ecstasy.

“Baby—fuck please, so—too deep—” you whimpered in inane babbles, tightening in residual spasms from your orgasm and the sudden intrusion of his cock, still a stretch after all these months. Too deep… he snorted, rolling his hips hard to try shove himself deeper still. He could never get deep enough, always wanting more—always seeking to conquer the untouched lands of your body.

“Mm, want me to stop?” he teased, dragging his hips back with a smirk at your immediate rejection of no no no fuck—please, no—hand pathetically trying to drag him closer to you by the hip. Lovely little thing… thinking you were strong enough.

“That’s better…” he purred, relief washing over him when he pulled out—the walls of your cunt stretching around him, refusing his exit, and trying to keep him nestled inside you. The pace he chose was brutal. He fucked you like he fought tonight. Violently, mercilessly—and deaf to the calls to relent. But where he wanted his opponent to suffer, he wanted to devastate you with pleasure, enrapture you with ecstasy and leave you moaning his name where others would curse it.

Wet cock slapping as he pounded into you in short, frantic ruts – need you baby… fuck I need you – there was no time for you to catch a full breath before he was knocking it out of you again. His fingers had to tighten in your hair to keep you up – your body trembling under his as he sank his teeth into the taut muscle at your neck and his cock sank into your welcome body – exposed and waiting for him to litter in his signature.

He would never get enough of the way his marks looked on your skin—the way you decorated him in yours. You were powerless to do much else than accept them right now – likely getting him back later – boneless and weak under the attack of his mouth and the dominance of his body.

He would make sure everyone in this fucking shithole of a place knew who you were with. They would have to be blind not to notice the blotches of poppy bruises snaking down your neck with the elusion to more hidden from unworthy eyes. The smudge of your mascara as tears pearled like crystals in the corner of your eyes when you glanced at him in strung out bliss.

“M-more—” you begged, dropping one of your hands between your legs to rub at your clit—fingers splitting around the girth of his cock as he fucked you to feel the thick length disappear into you over and over, the soaked mess amassed from your frantic desire for each other trickling down your thighs.

“Yeah?” he grinned, breathless and sweating for much more pleasing reasons than he had been in the ring, a languid kiss to your neck as he hiked one of your knees up onto the vanity—spreading you wider for him to sink deeper.

You spasmed, your head falling back against his shoulder with a cry.

“Yes—there, there baby, fuck you feel so good…” you rambled, fingers working feverishly over your clit in wet strokes, grazing his balls every time they slapped against your skin and making him muffle his moan in your neck.

Rolling a nipple between his fingers, his large—bloodied hand completely swallowed your breast, squeezing it and tickling sounds that belonged to him from you and into his mouth when you kissed him. One last kiss before you collapsed back onto the vanity, and he stood to his full height so he could ruin you with his cock.

His name was the only thing you remembered as he split you open with full, hard thrusts—the entire length of his cock stretching your tight walls around it and playing along raw nerves already on the brink of another orgasm.

“Gonna cum, sweetheart—” he strained, desperate for release as he watched himself fuck you in the mirror—him behind your smaller body, squirming under the pleasure while his muscles bunched and relaxed with each snap of his hips—the veins in his forearms prominent and tendons taut as he poured all that training and dedication and determination into you, into pleasing you.

“Inside—inside, Din fuck, please—”

His mind emptied. Nothing else mattered about tonight—not the fight, not the disqualification, not the rage. Your eyes—cloudy with lust and achingly trusting as you looked back at him were all he could think about. Nodding without even realizing, the thought of filling you running in his mind on a loop.

“Fuck—!”

He wanted you to cum before him, he always did—but he was so high strung, so tense that he couldn’t stop himself, burying himself to the hilt with several punched out moans—exhaled rapture with every pump of his seed against your waiting womb. Your eyes rolled closed at the amount, bloating you with his release and as he came, you worked your clit frantically—chasing that addictive edge you gladly hurled yourself over at just the thought of him coming inside you.

Din dropped his forehead to your shoulder with a gasp, your spasming walls too much on his sensitive length but he had to stay inside—the contractions of pleasure, the gush of your release might push his out. He couldn’t have that. So, he gritted his teeth, mumbled husky praise – good girl, that’s it—just like that, soak me – to work you through your orgasm and pressed open mouth kisses to sweaty skin, the salt tickling his tongue as he caught his breath.

His mouth worked over the sweep of your shoulder, up your neck to your jaw when your orgasm subsided, purring your name and nonsensical strings of words he had no idea made sense or not. He finally eased his softening cock out of you slowly when you shifted your hips—testing your strength and finding it lacking when you realized both he and the vanity were what kept your legs up.

“Feel… feel better?”

“Mhm…” he confirmed noncommittally, nuzzling the marks beginning to bloom and darken like a forbidden garden only he was allowed indulge in the scent of. One of his hands ran absently down the back of your thigh, feeling for his release—pleased to feel nothing but your sticky arousal, his own still nestled inside your sore cunt.

“Want one of those crepes you’re always raving about from that twenty-four hour place?” he purred, helping you stand—going so far as to pull the straps of your dress back up so that zipping the metal teeth would be easier. Your eyes brightened despite the lazy, satiated fatigue hiding in their orbs.

“Gino’s?”

“Mm,” he nodded, looking down from his greater height and lips quirking in an annoying desire to smile when one – bright as daylight – broke out on yours.

You nodded quickly, looping your arms around his neck to drag him down to your mouth, kissing him good and proper while his hands fell under the still open sides of your dress to settle on bare hips,

“Are you ever going to tell me what set you off tonight?” you mumbled against his lips cautiously, the ghost of a smile from the promise of dessert still lingering but a hesitant worry entering your gaze, unsure if his mood would sour again.

It didn’t.

He nudged his nose along yours, aquiline curve slotting along yours as he hummed in thought, thumbs rubbing lazily into your hips,

“Maybe later,” he settled on and captured your lips again.

You left the changing room together, his gym bag slung over one shoulder and his free arm wrapped around your shoulder—nose never leaving your temple or nuzzling into your hair with blatant affection as you blushed at how obvious it was to anyone who saw you what you had been doing.

You had both tried to tidy yourselves—cleaning the corners of your makeup and trying to flatten your mused hair was about all you could do. Din didn’t even attempt to cover the freshly fucked look of messy hair and heavy eyes as he pulled an unzipped Mythosaur Gym hoodie on over his muscle shirt.

A group were passing in the corridor as you asked him something—his former opponent with one eye swollen shut from the bruises forming around his eye, jaw, and cheeks. Din answered you easily, an automatic response to whatever you were asking as his eyes met his opponents, cold fury and arrogant pride flashing in their depths.

You remained none the wiser as you passed the group, Din’s body protectively placed between you and them. He probably should have told you; he knew you wouldn’t be swayed by it—comfortable in your body as you were, but he couldn’t bring himself to. He could protect you from slander and toxicity at the very least—and he planned to. Even if he had to do so in the shadows for now.

For himself, the swelling and bruising on the idiots’ face weren’t the only thing he had to satisfy himself with. He was the one whose cum was still buried inside you, clinging to your thighs and keeping you slick and wet for him to add more to later when he got you back to his place. And as you glanced up at him with a disarming smile after he dropped his hoodie over your shoulders without a thought once you both were outside in the crisp air of the early morning darkness—he secretly hoped that he would be the only one to have that privilege from then on.

Taglist | Form

@geannad @ayamenimthiriel @sarahjkl82-blog @gracie7209 @pychedelic-star @nova646 @theflightytemptressadventure @wantingtobekorra @computeringturtle @slayerette26 @kesskirata @greatcircle79 @boxdyeblonde @fangirl-316 @niiight-dreamerrrr @tanzthompson @theamuz @gallowsjoker @helmet-comes-off @jesfreedark @amyk-37 @altarsw @feminist-violinist @spideysimpossiblegirl @lazybeeches @shameless-h  @girlimjusttryingtoreadfanfics @mamacitapascal @the-ginger-hedge-witch @disgruntledspacedad @asta-lily @aesnawan @frannyzooey @gaiuswrites @beskarboobs @honestly-shite @sherala007 @cats-are-a-girls-bestfriend @missminkylove @pedros-mustache @headinthestarz @leannawithacapitala @sharkbait77 @radiowallet  @danidrabbles @magpie-to-the-morning @mandocrasis @juletheghoul @javierpinme @voteforpedro09 @theorganasolo @aprilqueen84 @Prostitute-robot-from-the-future @wanderlustmags @darnitdraco @castleamc @outlawedmando @lawfulgranola @jaime1110 @c-a-v-a-l-r-y @taticalsparkles @chasingdreamer @beautyagegoodnesssize @pintsizemama @recklessworry @tarolovesyoo @xgoldenjenny @prideandpascal @amneris21 @mylovelycomandante @ohhersheybars @heartsofbeskar

A few who might be interested! @thepoisonofgod @absurdthirst @highsviolets @astroboots​ 

[forgiveness-in-the-misery]

Toki’s Psychological State Through the Seasons

Toki is by far for me personally the most interesting member of Dethklok; I know to some degree he’s deemed as a potentially over hyped character by fans and even the show itself, but there’s countless reasons why people cling onto that character, and they’re good reasons. Even if said reasons just come down to “I think he’s neat.” that’s valid.

For me I am so fascinated with his character development, personality, and the varied chunks of background information we get about him throughout the series. A big part of this character is that when you look at him in season one compared to season four he is very different or at least he appears to be much different. Season one does establish that Toki does have a childish personality, his bedroom looks more like a room for a kid than one for a guy in his 20s. Season one establishes those basic facts about him that do heavily carry out through the show, but also increase as the show goes on.

Toki goes from immature but not overly immature to....a complete fucking wreck by the finale of season four (before Doomstar) and the reason for it is simple; it’s trauma.

Toki starts to act differently in season one after the Dethfamily episode; he spends practically that entire episode in a catatonic state, his parents always looming nearby like figures of danger and doom. After this we do get to him being bitter about being seen as immature and seen as the kid of the band (despite the fact he was barely 16 when he joined Dethklok) and when a charity informs him that a dying girl wants to meet him he turns into a complete prick. He finally comes out of that when he sees a video the kid made of herself singing a song about death and hatred, with that scene we see a small flashback of Toki’s childhood; him about the little girl’s age standing out in the snow staring up at his parents looking confused and a moment later he’s being smacked across the face. 

We could already gather beforehand when we found out he came from a very devout religious sect outside of Lillehammer that his childhood was sketchy, plus how he locked up when around his parents, but seeing the flashback of him being hit as a little boy.....Answers the obvious question of “did they beat him?”

Season one is the least eventful of the seasons. Season two is when shit begins changing drastically.

Season two Toki receives a call to inform him that his father has cancer and is on his death bed, the family and the church wants him to return to Norway to see his father. He acts completely fine about this initially, the phone conversation and the way he announces his father’s terminal illness to the band is as if somebody just asked to borrow his car. When it gets close to time to actually go and when they are in Norway it’s different though; he becomes anxious and clearly uncomfortable, in Norway he stays in town mostly, stalling around places he went to as a kid and a teenager before he ran off to America. 

He does handle his father’s dying well once he finally convinces himself to go inside his house and see him then follow through with his father’s dying request to carry him up to his old childhood home (which goes wrong because his friend’s are dicks.) 

I am not going to go into personal detail at all and my situation was nothing like Toki’s (it’s incredibly rare to hear situations like that anymore), but Toki handling his father’s passing freakishly well kind of was a red flag for me, because I know from my own experiences that when you find out something complicated like a terminal illness or the death of your abusive parent theres’ a chance you may respond way too calmly to it, and then later down the line days or months or years later something will trigger a big reaction to it. Which is what happens.

After handling his dad’s death well we get the most iconic scene involving Toki at that point and honestly still the most iconic; he beats a man to death with his bare hands. The thing that triggers this is a hallucinated image of a rabbit, an animal he associates both with his father and his childhood, the image of it triggers him to fly into an insanely feral blind rage taking it out on a guy who had been annoying him all night. Toki has always throughout the entire series shown signs of being a tad violent, but never THAT bad. Sure he shot down a plane and had accidentally caused a death or twenty (the whole band is, it’s part of the sacrifices to the Gods deal) but we had never seen him before or after that moment beat somebody to death. That is new and it came from a place of pent up....shit. Shit he never worked through and even after that continued to not work through.

Because after this we lead into him worsening further; he begins drinking. A lot. The band consist of dudes with addiction issues, mainly alcohol, but Toki never seemed to drink quite as much as them until after he went feral on that straight edge guy. 

Toki deals with his childhood trauma in several ways:

He drinks. A lot.

He focuses on fantasy and daydreams to keep himself from focusing on his past.

He spends a lot of time with Dr. Rockso who takes advantage of his kindness often, he also spends gross amounts of money bailing his clown buddy out of jail. Constantly.

He occasionally gets violent, but never to the point of manslaughter.

Seasons three and four are when we get fully introduced to Toki acting like a kid more than a guy in his 20s and it makes sense. Toki didn’t have a childhood; we learn that his parents essentially made him into a slave at a young age having him do pointless “chores” like sweeping snow during a storm, carrying stacks of wood much too heavy for a small child, etc. and when he failed to work quickly enough or failed a task they punished him. They punished him by locking him in a shed, they punished him by chaining him up like an animal, they punished him by smacking him, by beating him with a bull whip, and worst of all (who knew it could get worse) they would force him to stay for long periods of times in a deep hole dug into the ground. A hole where he hid a clown doll made of twigs and straw, the only friend he had as a little kid.

From all that we can gather through the show he didn’t exactly have a social life of any kind until his teens, the older he became the braver I think he became, and that was responded to with worse violence from his parents. I think the statement in season one about a vision of father killing son wasn’t totally off, I think if Toki had never run away from Norway that his father would have murdered him. I think his parents knew somehow that he isn’t entirely human, they knew he was something else, and I do think his parents had plans to kill him before he could become “too powerful”. 

That aside though.....Once we the audience as well as his friends find out far more details about his horrifying childhood Toki changes. A lot. He’d already been immature and a tad bit off but he regresses further after that, more prone to depression and outbursts, clinginess, and a need to feel like he’s loved by pretty much anybody.

This is a dude who is about my age that came to the horrid realization that any person or animal he loves will die because that’s his “gift”, the gift of death. He works his ass off to repress and rationalize a brutally nightmarish childhood, and the guys he’s in a band with who he loves and sees as his family....are dicks. We know that when he joined Dethklok before they got famous that they were all close, but when they began becoming popular and became immensely wealthy the others became more focused on self indulgence and power, less focused on this still a child who desperately just wanted a family.

I think a key factor with Toki being the way he is comes down to the band’s “no caring” rule. A rule that only existed because of Magnus. Toki is the baby in a group of people who have known each other for a good while, people who came to an agreement to not give a shit about each other for a reason they never explained to him because it’s too painful for them to think about. I think he always tried to live by that rule of not caring, he tried to bury all the shit wrong with himself the best that he could but he was never good at it. It’s also clear they all care about each other and they definitely care about Toki; Nathan and Skwisgaar often being the most protective of him. 

In season four aka the season where the show becomes less of a comedy and more of a drama with stunning animation. Toki is immensely more immature and awkward, he’s clingy with the band especially where Skwisgaar is regarded. Near the end of season four he’s completely fucked up; he splits his time between Rockso (his comfort object) and Magnus (a father figure to replace Nathan) in the dinner episode which has so much going on in it. So much. Toki is at his lowest point in the series; he shows up late, drunk as fucking hell, shirtless, and covered in bruises and cuts. Rockso is with him and when Charles tries to tell him Rockso shouldn’t be there Toki goes into a full fucking anxiety attack until Charles tells him it’s fine to have the clown there. Toki’s heavily dependent on Rockso by that point; his found family is quickly falling to shit. God knows what kind of shit Magnus might have been feeding him about the band at that point. 

Toki’s entire thing from day one/the pilot of the series is that he just wants a family. When he feels like he doesn’t belong in the one that he found and was taken in by he searches for family in other places, when he can’t handle the memories of his childhood he spirals hard. I understand that the guys didn’t really know how to handle it after they heard about Toki’s childhood so I can’t fault them completely for just.....shoving him off onto Rockso after that, but I still think they should have tried to be there for him more so, more directly. I think an outlet that isn’t a drug addled clown might have helped him in some way, I think if when he’d been a teenager if one of them had found out about his upbringing and just pointed out “that isn’t okay, at all.” then things might have panned out differently. 

Mental regression isn’t uncommon when it comes down to victims of trauma caused by extreme abuse. Especially considering his trauma all occurred basically from the get go; he was a child slave, the closest I would guess he ever got to having a childhood when he was a kid was seeing other kids childhoods. Going into town and seeing kids playing, sneaking into birthday parties just to be around other kids his age, etc. and he definitely was childish as a teenager, but I think he tried to bury that side of himself when his bandmates started teasing him or pointing out how unmetal it all is.....But then a douche bag journalist brought his parents to America, a little girl died, his abusive father died horribly (as he should) in front of him, he beat a man to death (allegedly), etc. 

He spent a lot of years away from all the trauma and the death and the bull shit then suddenly it started piling on top of him again and his escapism was fantasy, clinging onto a junkie clown, partaking in childish hobbies.....because why not? 

Each member of the band suffered some messed up shit when they were kids and it shows in different ways, this is Toki’s way of dealing with it....or not. I’m not entirely sure what his psychological state would be post Doomstar; the way he bounces back from immense trauma makes me think that he would be okay given some time and that’s a safe assumption to make, especially now that his bandmates/family will be there for him the way he needs them to be.

I want to tag @theidiotwiththepaintedface who hopefully will enjoy this painfully long deep dive into a character’s psychology lol.

[redxblueihateloveyou]

I'm surprised people see Tadashi as the victim in his relationship with Ainosuke, when it's Tadashi the one who time and time again takes away Ainosuke's agency, without being able to see that he is throwing him unto unhappiness. I can't help but think that if Tadashi was not working at Shindo's house, Ainosuke would have maybe left or broke with the family. But he can't do that if he wants the relationship with Tadashi going on, seing how Tadashi is set on enforcing the family rules...

Hmm.. I def agree with the fact that Tadashi is not what most fandom makes out of him, my man (I mean, Adam’s man) is a 100% Slytherin. But I disagree with blaming him for this, after all the revealed info. The environment they were both raised in made their situation complicated.

I like Tadashi a lot, he’s probably my fav thing about this anime, bc he’s a dark horse, and I’m once again surprised, that so little ppl see him for who he really is, portraying him as an innocent puppy, which he is definitely not.

Now to why I think both Tadashi and Adam are victims of the dad and aunties in this situation. 

We can of course say “if only they told each other how they really feel...”, but like we can say it about any love story really. Every author knows it’s no fun. The truth is that yes, they both hurt each other, and yes, if they were honest about their feelings things would’ve been different, but as I’ve already wrote under that “toxic” commentary on YT, lets look at the whole situation from both of their point of views:

We know that Adam when he was little always treated Tadashi as an equal, he never ever thought of him as someone lower than him and after their fall out, the only reason for this “harsh” treatment (well, besides their confirmed kink) was that Adam tried to get a reaction out of him, so Tadashi would stand up for himself, bc Ainosuke got mad about Tadashi caving to his dad’s wishes and abandoning him, when he needed him the most. 

But now, knowing the fact that Tadashi was his dad’s secretary and was under his control, let’s see it from his perspective: Tadashi wanted to stay by Adam’s side, Adam’s dad implied that if Tadashi did say smth, he’s gonna be.. well, dismissed and they won’t see each other ever again. That’s what caused Tadashi to stay silent in that moment. Ainosuke instead saw this as a “he’s not on my side” thing, well, because. Tadashi won’t tell him his problem, bc dad and aunties control everything, so even if he does tell him, what a teen would do really? He didn’t have any powers back then to make his dad do anything. 

And that’s when it all gone to shit, since they both were hurt for their own reasons. It’s easy to say leave the family, but 1stly nobody explained to Adam still that he’s physically and psychologically abused by his family, he sees it as them “loving him” and sadly also loves them, bc nobody told him, that love wasn’t supposed to be like that really. He definitely feels that smth is not right and feels emotionally exhausted there bc of this treatment, but did he ever consider leaving? I really don’t think so. He feels obligated to be worthy of a family, who “loves” him.

Do you think, for example, that Akashi Seijuro hates his dad for what he did to him? No. Does he understand that he wasn’t at fault for what happened to him and that his dad instead of comforting his child after his mother’s death, who was his only safe haven, made everything worse? I don’t think he does. Like his mom gave him basketball, an escape from all that family’s obligations and strictness. After her death, it was the only thing left that brought him joy, but his dad ruined even that, saying that if he’s gonna be bad at it/lose, he’d take it away from him too. Does Akashi see this as emotional abuse? No, he sees it like “well, I have to be the best bc I was born in such powerful family, so if my dad says that I must be best at everything, then I must.”

I personally hate such parents a lot. To me it doesn’t matter if Adam’s dad didn’t know about aunties hitting his child. Like if he was too busy to notice this and have no time for his kid and made his childhood miserable, it doesn’t make it any better really. 

Same as with Akashi’s dad. Some are like “he was probably also grieving about his wife”. Emm? He was like this from the beginning, bc he treated Akashi not as his son, but as his heir. And yes, that’s different things. Same with Endeavor and Todoroki. Your child is not your post production thing.

2ndly they were too young, even if they knew about each others feelings and he didn’t feel obligated and told everyone to fuck off, they’d be on the streets now, but also Adam’s dad doesn’t seem like a guy who’d leave them alone really. Also eloping seems very romantic, but I don’t think it is, esp when you’re teens. Did you want him to sell some expensive watch and go live on Hawaii or smth? Bc finding a decent job there would be difficult at this age, esp with everyone knowing who your dad is. Chen Ke from “Antidote” survived bc he was 27 and had connections and some great friends. Adam was in high school, where would he go exactly?

Now let’s go back to now. Obviously all this time it didn’t even cross Tadashi’s mind that for Ainosuke he comes first and that he would throw everyone under the bus to make Tadashi stay with him. As we see at the end, he legit believed that Adam was planning to send him to jail and didn’t get that he said it just to shaken he up and that he knew who he’d set up for this from the beginning. 

To Adam obviously it doesn’t matter whether they’re in a quarrel or not, he would never him go. Yes, he’s mad at him, he’s angry and hurt, but Tadashi’s still the person he needs the most, he’s still the person who brightens his days, even tho he deliberately behaves like he annoys him. He always looks at him and looks at him and looks at him, but then hisses smth to hurt him. Bc he knows that he needs him, but he also hates that he needs him, bc he thinks it’s unrequited.

And that’s how their classic romance goes in hellish circles. No one wants to talk as usual. Adam is mad Tadashi is like that bc his dad turned him into a slave with no opinion, while Tadashi is scared that Adam would be taken away from him bc of his ugly family. 

Now I still think that no one and I mean no one can take Tadashi from Adam now, he is his precious. So my plan is... if Tadashi made aunties do smth against him or to get rid of him, aunties will go for sure. The problem is Tadashi still doesn’t get that he comes first, so we’re stuck in this hell still.

So anyways, my point is Adam’s heart basically sings “you got a hold of me, don’t even know your power” to Tadashi, but he doesn’t hear it, bc of his insecurities, the way he was raised and his status. But yes, he holds all the power. He’s both Adam’s sanity and insanity. No matter how cheesy it sounds he was basically his only ray of sunshine in the darkness, if you take it away, that’s what it leads to, that’s why Ainosuke-sama needs more ppl who care for him. I don’t want anyone to die next time, just cause Tadashi and Adam fought about where to put their new couch lmao. I’m kidding, but you know what I mean. And kill the aunties, pls seriously, we need to be free.

Also ppl need to remember that like lots of animes/characters are parcially inspired by some other animes/characters, also the chosen seiyuus are also very important, there are lots of stuff like jokes and references, that creators use, from characters being fully inspired by smth like “Assassination classroom” characters based on KNB, to little stuff like Levi dressed in Akashi’s uniform in chibi AOT bc Hiroshi Kamiya. Utsumi already said before stuff like she sometimes think of a perfect voice for the character and then fully forms him, we also know her clear love for sports animes. So yes, I doubt Tadashi/Kuroko thing is a coincidence and even tho someone was like “zone? is this knb or smth?” I was like no, zone is actually a common thing in sports, even tho most associate it with KNB including me, it’s not like its their invention, but there were things inspired by this for sure, and from other sports animes too and no, I don’t mean the basic sports anime tropes, I mean, like way too specific things, some character designes, too. And yes, Langa appearence and personality wise is a rinharu child for real, I can literally split his scenes in “that’s Haru”, “that’s Rin”.

That’s why I’ve said that this situation in fandom reminds me of Kuroko/Akashi situation a lot, bc same as here in KNB ppl for some reason automatically thought that Kuroko is this innocent sheep and Akashi is the wolf (but also like it was Akashi who chose to dress as red riding hood, while Kuroko was a wolf lmao), not even seeing who is in reality more dangerous and who can easily control who. It just buffles me bc it’s not some deep analisys really. I mean once again there’s a reason for the saying that the sub holds all the power over the dom. 

And like just bc someone yells or threatens ppl constantly doesn’t necessarily mean he is a psycopatic killer, and just bc someone is quiet and doe-eyed, doesn’t mean he isn’t. I didn’t think we needed to explain this to someone, but aparently we do?

And it honestly kills me just how superficially ppl are watching things these days. It really gives me war flashbacks to stuff like the last mdzs s1 episode, where ppl started to comment things like “how LZ can be so heartless” lmao. Or that anonymous ask “do you think haru misses rin?”. Like you don’t see thing at all? Grey substance no needed, while watching things?

P.S. I also would die to see Adam vs Tadashi race just bc I for some reason can bet all my money, that it’s the same situation as with Akashi refusing to ankle break Kuroko, no matter how mad he is. I just can’t imagine Ainosuke hitting Tadashi in the face with a board. Like 100% sure he wouldn’t even try tbh.

[nurvuss]

I Watched the First Episode of Every New Spring 2021 Anime Airing on Crunchyroll

Hey, are you like me, and feeling like you're not getting the most out of your Crunchyroll subscription? Sure, there's stuff on there that you know you like. But whenever I look at the big long list of simulcasting shows, my eyes glaze over and I don't even know where to begin.

I wanted to change my habits and see if there were any shining gems that I should be watching. So, as per the title, I watched the first episode of every new Spring 2021 anime on Crunchyroll. And guess what? There’s a lot of crap! But indeed, there’s some stuff that’s worth your time.

Some clarification: I've only watched shows that began their first season in April 2021.

Backflip!!

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The Lowdown

As Futaba Shotaro comes to the end of middle school, his interest in baseball has begun to wane. Soon he notices the Ao High Boys Gymnastic Club and becomes enthralled, especially after seeing them perform. Once he learns they're down two members, he chooses to sign up and pursue the art of gymnastics. The club is also joined by Misato Ryoya, a star solo gymnast looking to expand his technique through teamwork.

Our Thoughts

Pretty formulaic shoujo sports anime: you've got your himbo, your thug, your ladies' man, your stoic guy, with Shotaro rounding out the cast as the shy and awkward audience surrogate. It looks wholesome enough, and the choreographed routines employ CG in a way that's quite convincing without being hideous.

Who It's For

Fans of  FREE, or Yuri!!! on Ice, or any similar shows about cute boys who succeed at athletic feats. 

Borscht Rating

Burning Kabaddi

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The Lowdown

Legendary high school soccer star Yoigoshi Tatsuya has given up on sports! That is, until he's blackmailed to join the high school kabaddi team, under threat of his online persona being leaked to the entire school. Although Tatsuya initially writes kabaddi off as stupid, the unexpected happens as he begins to have fun.

Our Thoughts

Kabaddi is kinda like competitive tag, or dodgeball but with your body instead of a ball. Burning Kabaddi is basically the shounen alternative to Backflip!! above, replete with nosebleeds, pratfalls, and dudes punching each other. The main cast don't seem to like each other very much; that probably changes as the show goes on but at first blush it's a dynamic I always find annoying.

Who it's For

Fans of Haikyuu!!? Maybe?

Borscht Rating

CARDFIGHT!! VANGUARD overDress

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The Lowdown

The newest series based on Bushiroad's collectible card game, featuring character designs by the beloved collective CLAMP. Petit middle schooler Yu-Yu just doesn't know how to say no. As his older students dress him in drag to use as live makeup practice, he suffers a panic attack and flees into the streets. After being accosted by a pickup artist, he's befriended by Megumi, who invites him to witness a Cardfight match at the local abandoned amusement park. However, Yu-yu is too shy to tell Megumi he's actually a boy…

Our Thoughts

What an unexpectedly weird concept for a show about a card game. Our hero spends the whole episode in drag, whimpering and simpering at the sight of any conflict. Then they show off the latest series of cards, which all seem to be giant buff knights with names like "Bad Steve" and "Violent Bruce". Your guess is as good as mine.

Who it's For

Cardfight!! lovers, Japanese gender studies majors, or the most desperate fujoshi. 

Borscht Rating

Cestvs: The Roman Fighter

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The Lowdown

The year is 54AD, and Nero has taken the throne as the youngest emperor of Rome. At the bottom of the population, Cestvs is a young slave training to be a colosseum boxer. Reluctant, his only choice is to fight or die.

Our Thoughts

Seeing Nero depicted as a gentle little twink is pretty funny. It's also pretty funny that the central character is named after a Roman boxing glove. The animation style transitions to some very uncanny CG when a major fight takes place, and I didn't like that one bit! This seems like a pretty average tournament anime but with a historical setting. It's currently unknown if any of these dudes are fucking each other. I'm gonna say probably.

Who It's For

The venn-diagram of Greco-Roman history buffs and lovers of tournament series?

Borscht Rating

Don’t Toy with Me, Miss Nagatoro!

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The Lowdown:

Hachioji Naoto is a nerdy, introverted student who spends his time studying and avoiding socialising. When pages from the fantasy manga he's drawing fall out of his bookbag, they catch the attention of a younger student named Nagatoro Hayase. Nagatoro begins to tease Naoto for his otaku interests and awkward demeanour, peppered with some suggestive flirting.

Our Thoughts:

What would you do if a younger girl flirted with you? Would you cry? Piss your pants maybe? Maybe shit and cum? Don't Toy With Me… attempts to barely conceal its BDSM fantasy with its comedic elements, but it's incredibly apparent as Nagatoro always wipes away Naoto's tears as a sort of aftercare. It's like a lighter, comedic version of Aku no Hana, but lacking any of the ponderings or danger that made that work so special.

Who It's For: 

People who search Pornhub for "bratty sister femdom".

Borscht Rating:

86 Eighty-Six

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The Lowdown

The Republic of San Magnolia and the Giad Empire, have been at war for nearly a decade. Using advanced military technology, the frontlines are fought by giant mecha drones called Juggernauts, controlled remotely by Handlers. Major Vladilena Mirizé is one of the military's most talented Handlers in the 1st District, and one who is constantly teased by her peers for the humanity and empathy she shows her squadron. The government line is that drone warfare has kept casualties to zero, but unbeknownst to the public these "drones'' are piloted by 86ers—the lowest class of citizens, forced to live in military internment camps in San Magnolia's 86th District.

Our Thoughts

This is incredibly my kind of thing. We've got a dual narrative being set up here: Vladilena as the kind, reluctant officer of a fascist regime, and the Bad Company-esque antics of her new ragtag squad, Spearhead. The first episode is split pretty evenly between the two, with each story converging at the end as Vladilena "meets" Spearhead for the first time through her comms station. It's an explosive and enticing first episode, and I can't wait to watch more of it.

Who It's For

Fans of Fullmetal Alchemist, Psycho-Pass, Gundam, or any number of anti-imperialist war stories.

Borscht Rating

Fairy Ranmaru

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The Lowdown

In a quiet corner of the city sits Bar F, a modest drinking establishment staffed entirely by five hot young men. Unbeknownst to the general population, these men are a crack team of fairies sent to the human world to gather the latent energy of "attachment". They do this by solving the problems of young women, taking their hearts in the process.

Our Thoughts

Hubba hubba, a little something for the ladies! It's Weiẞ Kreuz with a bar instead of a flower shop, fairies instead of assassins, and some pretty revealing outfits. There's definitely a little Persona 5 inspiration here too, from the punctuating phrase "Take your Heart!" to many of the visual cues. Make of that what you will.

Who It's For

Fans of Weiẞ Kreuz, slash fic authors.

Borscht Rating

Farewell, My Dear Cramer

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The Lowdown

Onda Nozomi was once the star player of her middle school football team. Completely unmatched, she no longer plays as there's no opponent she deems to be on her level. Meanwhile Suou Sumire far outpaces her teammates, causing her frustration. By a twist of fate, these two girls find themselves joining the scrappy Warabi Seinan High School FC as they begin to learn the value of teamwork and friendship.

Our Thoughts

I don't know sports. And I really don't know football. I had to look up what the title meant, and now I barely know who Dettmar Cramer is. I'm really not the best person to judge this, but it seems like a pretty good female-driven sports anime. 

Who It's For

Fans of Ace o Nerae! or other sports manga/anime about those ever burning bonds between young teammates.

Borscht Rating

Gloomy, the Naughty Grizzly

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The Lowdown:

Pitty lives with his pet Gloomy, a massive pink bear. Can a boy and a bear truly get along?

Our Thoughts:

This is a series of minute-long gag episodes in which Gloomy mauls Pitty and blood squirts everywhere. It's definitely meant to be a morbid parody of Sanrio or San-X; it might be a Rilakkuma parody in particular? Gloomy is the kind of thing you might laugh at if it came on in between shows, but it's pretty slight to go through the trouble of putting on.

Who It's For:

Gag anime fans with one minute to spare.

Borscht Rating:

Higehiro: After Being Rejected, I Shaved and Took in a High School Runaway

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The Lowdown

After a night of drinking in Tokyo, slovenly salaryman Yoshida encounters a teenage runaway sitting under a lamppost. She offers to sleep with him in return for letting her spend the night in his apartment. Yoshida refuses her offer but allows her to stay. The next morning the girl, Sayu, reveals she's travelled all the way from Hokkaido, sleeping with random men in return for lodging and money. Feeling responsible for her safety, Yoshida agrees for Sayu to stay indefinitely in return for handling household chores.

Our Thoughts

This is kind of the inverse of Koikimo (see below), but without a scumbag character and from a male perspective. It's not nearly as nauseating as that show, but it's still a fantasy about living with a busty teenage girl.

Who It's For

Libertarians.

Borscht Rating

I've Been Killing Slimes For 300 Years And Maxed Out My Level

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The Lowdown: 

Office lady Aizawa Azusa dies of overwork in her early 20s, and finds herself standing before a lecherous goddess. Allowed a wish as compensation for her untimely demise, Azusa wishes for an endless life of leisure. The goddess reincarnates her as a 17-year-old immortal witch in an RPG-coded fantasy world. Thrilled, Azusa lazes about, brewing potions for her neighbouring villagers, and kills a small amount of slimes each day to supplement her income. After doing this every day for 300 years, she inadvertently finds herself at Level 99. Her peaceful life is soon upended as adventurers and dragons come from miles around to challenge the legendary witch.

Our Thoughts:

I'm not really an isekai fan, and that goes double for series which aren't set in an RPG, yet use RPG mechanics. Levelling up, grinding stats, min-maxing, as if it's a part of the fabric of the setting. I don't get it. I like watching numbers go up as much as the next dork, but I don't need to watch numbers go up in absolutely every piece of media I consume. Just play a fucking video game, Jesus Christ almighty.

I thought this might be setting up a fun series in which a layabout is reluctantly called upon to undertake a dangerous quest, but I don't think that's what's going on at all. When the red dragon Laika wrecks Azusa's house, she transforms into a cute young girl and the two begin living together, teaching each other the pros and cons of hard work and slothfulness respectively. The trajectory of the series might be as laid back as its protagonist in the end, which, ultimately, would be fitting.

Who It's For:

Isekai fans, slice-of-life fans. The twain have met!

Borscht Rating:

Joran: The Princess of Snow and Blood

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The Lowdown

In alternative history Japan the Meiji Period continued well into the 1930s, and the ongoing Tokugawa Shogunate has brought technological prosperity to the nation through a magical energy source called the Dragon's Vein. Sawa Yukimura runs a bookshop where she lives with her little sister by day, but by night she's an assassin for Nue, the shogunate's secret police. As the terrorist group Kuchinawa deploys transforming beasts in an attempt to topple the shogunate, Nue springs into action with their own abilities.

Our Thoughts

There are a lot of concepts competing here, and a few too many flashy transformation sequences for my taste, but I'm really into it! Nue are made up of sex workers and street musicians, often overlooked and therefore easily able to blend in. There's a supernatural Standalone Complex vibe to how the team operates, and they're almost assuredly on the wrong side. Worth a shot!

Who It's For

Fans of alternate history science fiction, Ghost in the Shell: Standalone Complex, Demon Slayer.

Borscht Rating

Koikimo: Koi to Yobu ni wa Kimochi Warui ("It's Disgusting to Call This Love")

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The Lowdown

Amakusa Ryo is a womanizing salaryman concerned with nothing but his own base desires. As he slips on the train station stairs one morning, he's saved by the swift action of Arima Ichika, a kind-hearted high schooler. When it turns out Ichika is friends with Ryo's younger sister Riou, he decides she's his soulmate, and begins to pursue her no matter how many times she refuses him. Comedy ensues!

Our Thoughts

Yeah, OK groomer.

Alright look, Korikimo is written by a woman and told from Ichika's perspective, so this is obviously meant to be a lighthearted "older man" shoujou romance. As an older man, all I saw were the adventures of a paedophile and the teenager he's stalking. Fuck off.

Who it's For

There's probably other stuff like this, right? If you like that, here you go.

Borscht Rating

Let's Make a Mug, Too

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The Lowdown

After the death of her mother, Himeno and her father relocate from bustling Tokyo to quiet Tajimi City in Gifu Prefecture. The former salaryman opens a quiet cafe using the remarkable mugs made by his late wife, while Himeno follows in her mother's footsteps and joins the school pottery club. Although her first project ends in disaster, Himeno makes fast friends with the eccentric pottery enthusiasts who make up the club.

Our Thoughts

It's no Eizouken, but I guess it's probably not meant to be. I'm not a big iyashikei genre fan, but if that's your thing, you might enjoy the wholesome non-adventures of three girls trying to make a mug. It's worth noting these episodes are only about 12 minutes long, with the remaining runtime segmented into live action episodes where the voice actresses tour Tajimi and unconvincingly pretend to be interested in Gifu's famous mino-yaki pottery. I think this must be a tie-in with a local tourist board. 

Who It's For

People who enjoy stuff like Aria, actually.

Borscht Rating

OddTaxi

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The Lowdown

In a Tokyo populated by anthropomorphic animals, a solemn walrus named Odokawa spends his nights driving his cab around the bustling metropolis, spending his free time drinking with his pals. Odokawa soon finds his quiet life disrupted by a caper involving a missing girl, some crooked cops, and the animal yakuza. 

Our Thoughts

A deft blend of working class slice-of-life with mystery, cute animals, and striking visual design. OddTaxi might be the sleeper hit of Spring 2021.

Who It's For

Fans of existentialist film noir with absurdist comedy, Polar Bear Cafe, walrus lovers.

Borscht Rating

Osamake: Romcom Where The Childhood Friend Won't Lose

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The Lowdown

Suehiro Maruo Sueharu Maru has his heart set on Shirokusa Kachi, the hottest girl in school. When she begins dating a young actor, Sueharu confides in his childhood friend Kuroha Shida, who's openly in love with him and he rejected in the past. Kuroha suggests the two get revenge on Shirokusa by pretending to be in love. Will Sueharu fall in love with Kuroha for real, making her dreams come true?

Our Thoughts

Give me a fucking break.

Who It's For

I don't know and I don't care.

Borscht Rating

SD Gundam World Heroes

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The Lowdown

The newest instalment of the SD Gundam media-mix franchise. In a world populated by super deform mecha, a burning meteor lands in the middle of Captain City. From it launches a terrible mechanized beast: Naughty Lion. When the police are powerless to stop it, a crack team led by Zhuge Liang Gundam and Liu Bei Gundam sorties to bring Naughty Lion to justice. When the beast stops rampaging, it transforms into Sun Wukong Gundam, a youthful amnesiac mecha horrified at the destruction he wrought. The Three Kingdoms Gundams welcome Sun Wukong into the fold to make sense of this mysterious event.

Our Thoughts

I'm an 80s kid, I know a 30-minute toy commercial when I see one.

No, seriously though, I'm aware of SD Gundam's merchandising—they're cute designs, and I even used to have a bunch of the gum rubber mini figurines. I've played the SD Great War Super Famicom games, they're fun! This is a vehicle to get kids hyped up about the latest toys, which are...based on  a hodgepodge of Journey to the West and Romance of the Three Kingdoms this year? There's even a little SD Guan Yu Gundam with a big long beard!

I kinda wanted to like the idea of a bearded robot, but the mechas are super busy and overdesigned. I guess there's only so much you can do to make your next series of toys bigger and better, so these guys are all decked out in gold accents, capes, horns, and antlers, and half the time I couldn't parse what I was seeing.

I'm so glad I don't have to watch any more of this. 

Who It's For

Very, *very* young mecha fans.

Borscht Rating

Seven Knights Revolution: Hero Successor

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The Lowdown

Long ago, the Dark God Nestra ruled the world through fear. Standing against him were the Seven Knights, seven brave warriors chosen by the Light Goddess Serrass. With their powers combined, Nestra was defeated and the lands returned to peace. Hundreds of years later the wicked Physis Cult seeks to revive Nestra, summoning undead beasts to ravage the countryside. With the Seven Knights long dead, the Granseed Academy has risen to train the next wave of heroes to combat this threat. Using special cards, the students of Granseed are able to call upon the power of the Seven Knights to guide them in battle.

Our Thoughts

As soon as the opening started with its transforming heroes and lovingly depicted weapon cards, I realised this must be based on a mobile game. Indeed, this is based on a free-to-play gacha from Korean developer Netmarble. Even before I was able to confirm this, Hero Successor failed to draw me in, eschewing details on the nature of its world in lieu of a glamourised marketing push for its source material. What's here is incredibly slight, and likely to be of little interest to anyone who isn't deep into this game.

Who It's For

Seven Knights whales, I guess.

Borscht Rating

Those Snow White Notes

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The Lowdown

Sawamura Setsu mourns the death of his grandfather Matsugorou, a talented shamisen player who refused to pass his secrets on. Not knowing what else to do, he leaves his remote village for Tokyo, taking nothing but his shamisen along with him. Soon he finds himself wrapped up in the complicated life of aspiring actress Yuna and her scuzzy rockstar boyfriend Taketo. When Setsu opens for Taketo's band, he stuns the audience with the raw emotion of his playing. However, his heart is still tumultuous. 

Our Thoughts

An entertaining first episode of a speciality music series, which is the kind of thing I have a place in my heart for. I couldn't shake the feeling of some latent misogyny that suggested the role of a woman is to inspire a tortured artist, but I might be wrong. The final few minutes take a twist by introducing Setsu's weird, horny mother who seems to have her own personal SWAT team, and it looks like the series becomes a more conventional high school anime from episode 2 onwards. Don't know about that!

Who It's For

Fans of Kids on the Slope, Sound of the Sky.

Borscht Rating

Tokyo Revengers

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The Lowdown

Former delinquent Takemichi is unsatisfied with the way his life turned out, living alone in a paper-thin apartment and working a minimum wage job under a boss who doesn't respect him. When watching the news one evening, he learns that his highschool sweetheart Hinata was killed, alongside her little brother. On the way to work the next morning, Takemichi falls in front of an oncoming train and wakes up 12 years in the past. Armed with foreknowledge, he attempts to turn his life around and save his onetime lover.

Our Thoughts

This is drawing from a lot of sources; the whole train sequence is lifted straight from Gantz, while the story itself initially seems like a Life on Mars kind of deal. In fact, Tokyo Revengers sees Takemichi jump back and forth between the present and the past, seemingly making small changes until he achieves his desired outcome. It feels like a very video gamey depiction of time travel, and one that's not super interesting.

Who It's For

Steins;Gate fans, maybe? Delinquent manga (Shonan Junai Gumi, Crows, etc.) fans, maybe? It's pretty self-serious compared to any of those.

Borscht Rating

To Your Eternity

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The Lowdown

An immortal being in the form of an orb falls to earth and becomes a stone. Years pass, an ice age sets in, and a white wolf stumbles onto the tundra and dies. The orb, able to take the form of anything that leaves a strong impression on it, transforms into the wolf and slowly learns how to use its newfound ambulatory body. The creature treks back through the tundra where it meets a boy living alone, after the rest of his village left in search of a better life. The boy recognises the wolf as his beloved pet, Johann, and the two begin living together in the harsh, lonely wastes.

Our Thoughts

I'm being a little coy with the synopsis here, and there's a major shake-up at the end of this debut episode. This one's based on a manga by the critically acclaimed Yoshitoki Ooima (A Silent Voice), and it's a depressing, compelling, and exciting start to a series. Lots of potential here!

Who It's For

Fans of NieR, Fragile Dreams: Farewell Ruins of the Moon, Last Exile, Kino's Journey.

Borscht Rating

So, there you have it. I'm hoping this will be of use to anyone who experiences a similar sense of dread when faced with so many choices. Maybe we’ll do this again during the Summer 2021 anime season.

Also, please don't get mad at me if I'm snarky about your new favourite show! It’s just TV and I'm a big idiot anyway.

[sanchoyo]

danny phantom season 2, ep 12-16 thoughts! these episodes, in comparison to the first 10 or so, felt way more laid back and low-stakes, which I appreciate sometimes. I didn't appreciate how lazy jack's halfa design was in masters of time, it made me so annoyed I redesigned it. 👎🏻 u_u

see prev episode thoughts in this tag <3

-'picking a fight with me and my upgraded form!' 'you upgraded to a mullet?' DANNNNY. YOU CANT SAY THAT TO TECHNUS. YOUVE HAD A MULLET TWICE NOW ('fun' split danny, and evil future danny BOTH HAD THEM). I HAVE THE RECEIPTS.

-danny seeing technus hurting valerie and yelling I AM GOING TO BREAK YOU IN HALF. SAMEEEE <3

-axion labs is now a part of vladco. FUCK YOU VLAD. hes not even really IN this episode, but just thought I'd throw out a nice fuck you anyway.

-'capable of blasting a single person into space in (2) minutes!' tucker. that would kill someone. i mean yeah they might get to space, but theres NO WAY THEY WOULDNT CATCH FIRE, OR THEIR ORGANS WOULDNT LIQUIFY BECAUSE OF THE STRAIN. THEY'D PROBABLY PASS OUT BEFORE THEN, BUT. ...no, okay, I get why vlad bought this company. this is RIGHT up his alley.

-danny KNOWS VAL DIDNT DO THIS, THAT SOMEONE STOLE THE SUIT. AND SPENDING ALL NIGHT CHATTING WITH HER. <3 and val is a 9TH DEGREE BLACKBELT?? danny's mom is, too!! omg and she hunts ghosts, his parents would love her. and her fav fruit is kumquat bc its a funny word. im so with danny val is amazing. I love her and I Do Not Want To Hear It From Sam.

-I knew danny wanted to be an astronaut, but the bowling tidbit is like. yes give me more useless info abt these characters, I love tiny details that make them feel more human, and im glad hes got hobbies aside from ghost stuff, we dont really see a lot of that!!! (I mean, we knew 'fun' danny from when he split himself in half liked bowling, so obv it makes sense he LIKES it, but hes very GOOD at it. so proud of him, bowling king) val calling him neil armstrong and them teasing each other. LOVE THAT.

-technus you are my favorite grandpa for setting this up. SAM WHY ARE YOU BEING SO CREEPY BE HAPPY FOR YOUR FRIEND!!! STOP SPYING ON THEM!!! who actually cares if technus did 'set them up' together, theyre having fun and enjoy each others company!!! 'you think the universe wants you two to be together?' 'i dunno, but maybe /I/ do!' EXACTLY DANNY!!! SOO TRUE.

-and valerie being happy sam said she wants to try and be happy for them and make room at the lunch table for them. and hugging sam over it. VAL NEEDS MORE FRIENDS.

-VAL GOING AFTER TECHNUS IN HER SUIT WITH (1) MILK, AND (1) TREE BRANCH AND KEYS!!!. I LOVE YOUUUU BEST GIRL. her new suit kicks ass

-dannys like 'HEY IM AN ASTRONAUT :D' AW. ...HES IN SPACE... the fact he's actually intending to give her the ring. with SAMS NAME ON IT?? IM CRINGING DANNY NO. YOU CANT DO THAT...thank god he didnt. thank god valerie cut it off and said they can just stay friends for now. tbh, they both have a lot on their plates!! they obv both still like each other...it can be a future thing!! when she knows about phantom! youre 14 theres no need to rush. I just want her to have friends and be happy :(

-...danny struggles to do (1) pull up. SAME. but all the ghost fighting in phantom form REALLY doesnt carry over at ALL? that sucks

-sam being as fit as she is, is not just a goth. shes a goth jock.

-honey I Shrank Our Kid, One of his Enemies, and his Bully: the episode

-dash's crush on phantom is So Obvious. fitness buddies :) watching them interact always makes me laugh. also, phantom, with PANTS. 'how many costume changes you gonna go through, what is this, vegas??' DASSH DJKSFHASKDF

-MADDIE GOING AFTER THE MOUSE WITH A BROOM, WHAT THE FUCK. AAAH. JUST BUY SOME KIND OF MOUSE TRAP.

-danny likes lime and vinegar chips. which sound very good.

-'our boy finally has the physical prowess of a 60 year old president!' ...poor danny LMAO

-'what's wrong with beauty pageants' oh tucker you sweet naïve child. what ISNT wrong with them. who approved this for a high school?? (I mean, yes. unfortunately child pageants exist, but...) also danny and tucker once again treating the pretty girls like objects. I need to meet the grown man who wrote this, I just want to talk...

-prince aragon's dragon form reminds me of maleficent (color scheme wise) which is always a bonus. considering the episode is called beauty marked, I feel like the sleeping beauty references are deliberate

-sam with the fake fangs. once again her accessories never miss. hate the 'not like other girls, girls who get sucked into this kind of thing are all shallow and all want to be carbon copies' bs tho.

-sam trying to be the Worst Bride, being rude as shit. DORA IS GOING TO GET KILLED. DID YOU MISS THE PART WHERE SHE SAID THE PRINCE WILL HAVE HER HEAD IF YOU ARENT THE IDEAL BRIDE. YOU /KNOW/ DANNY WILL COME SAVE YOU. JUST ACT CHILL UNTIL THEN. even if you were doing fine to get him to take off the crown, consider maybe not letting his poor sister get punished also?? sure, she could also take off the crown and has dragon powers, but did you know that for sure?? dora didnt even really realize it until you guys talked!! (or at least, she was scared to stand up to him. you had no guarantee she would...) but. good for dora. ANOTHER friendly ghost to add to the List :)

-tucker is so under appreciated in his time. if he was doing a tech-based campaign today he'd have a better shot. people in 2004 had NO IDEA how much tech would be a part of our day-to-day lives...altho. tbh if you're going to be running for student council president, maybe you should..focus on things to actually improve the school? since he's going for a tech angle, he could say like, he would be running fundraisers for the schools computers to be upgraded, etc? we've already SEEN he can be good at money-making entrepreneur type stuff!!

-oh my god wait. this episode is JUST YUGIOH?????! A REBORN PHAROH USING A TEENAGER AS A VESSEL?? YESSSSSS

-tucker using his new minion to feed him grapes and carry him. AND LOCUSTS ONTO THE BULLIES. I love how when he's possessed, he gains winged eyeliner.

-this episode is giving me big 'plankton makes everyone in bikini bottom his slaves and build monuments of him from the spongebob movie' vibes. and the pharaoh has a traitor who works for him? VERY big yugioh vibes. aknadin confirmed

-I like that danny is still completely exhausted after using ghostly wail. (still patiently waiting on him to get duplication)

-LOVE the fenton's 80s outfits. I get hes 14 and embarrassed by everything they do because theyre his parents, but. cmon, this is one objectively cool thing theyve done. love 80s fashion.

-...was vlad just standing on that streetlight waiting for danny to come out? how'd he know they'd be coming out the back? how long has he been up there???

-oh, wait, his ecto-acne has flareups? that SUCKS. danny was...well I dont want to say he was LUCKY HE HALF-DIED, but he was lucky his was pretty instant (I'm assuming that had to do with the power/scale of the portals being different?) I remember in the ep we met him, vlad made a point of saying he was stuck in a hospital for a long time, so. that really actually sucks and I feel bad. not that it excuses anything he's done...but like. it does suck.

-vlad being so sure danny wouldnt help him he made it somehow contagious to his friends to make sure he'd get help? danny is a nice boy, he wouldve helped if it was anyone else. the only reason he wouldn't have is because of the shit vlad did to him, on purpose. vlad 100% dug his own grave by being the biggest asshole, so it is very hard to feel bad for him.

-clockwork is back!!! and making danny learn lessons The Hard Way. Uhhh, okay. I kind of get Danny’s logic, that time traveling this far back would prevent vlad from becoming a halfa also, ergo no arch nemesis or ectoacne to worry about. But the fact that was basically the first solution Danny came up with to solve this problem is actually so funny. It’s so extreme

-APPRICIATION FOR THESE 80S LESBIAN BG CHARACTERS.

-vlad telling maddie in the lab (in the 80s) he has something he's wanted to tell her 'for a long time'...how long have they known each other? I assumed they met in college, since jack always calls vlad his college buddy/roommate, so jack and vlad for sure met in college, but did vlad know maddie longer? thats surprising if so. Tho we don’t know what year of college they’re in so they could mean they met as freshmen and a few years have past…speaking of maddie shes crushing the 80s look.

-vlad blames jack, but. maybe dont stick your face 2 inches from the portal??! THIS FEELS LIKE LAB SAFETY BASICS. IF SOMETHING HAS POTENTIAL TO BE DANGEROUS, DONT GET NEAR IT. WITH YOUR FACE UNPROTECTED IN ANY WAY. (altho jack didnt really give a Big Warning besides screaming BONZAI. so. also that, but cmon.) also, they need gloves, goggles, and to pull all of their hair back tbh. but fuck lab safety, I guess!

-cryyyyinnng at how lazy they were with jack's ghost form design, its just plasmius' design on jack!!! you couldve given him his own design!!

-there. I did that in about 10 minutes and its somehow less lazy than what made it into the show. embarrassing! better yet, I think the episode would've been better if maddie would've gotten the ectoacne. or maybe its just me, wanting to see her design! anyway. I'm sure people have already done redesigns of them both as halfas. I have to go look after I finish this watch through. Also mildly frustrated jacks resentment and bitterness is basically also a copy paste of vlads backstory. They’re different characters, I really don’t think jack would stew in bitterness and jealousy the same way vlad would!! I also don’t think he’d give up after one time of trying to hunt ghosts and getting laughed at. Our canon timeline says different…I dunno, I get it was for laughs, but I’m annoyed because the POTENTIAL this plot has…

-did vlad really wear a stupid cheese hat to his wedding. ok actually that kinda rules. and the cheese door knocker. the dairy-only buffet table. vlad still got rich, just on being the New Dairy King. (Assuming that means he owns a lot of dairy businesses?) ok! this actually is great. hope maddie isn't lactose intolerant!

-'no matter how hard I tried, I could never get rid of my ghost half, the half I knew Maddie could never accept' ohh, ouch, what a horrible thing to say to her HALF GHOST SON. 'YOUR MOM WILL NEVER ACCEPT YOU' BASICALLY.

-maddie strapping danny to the table with a lazer pointed at him in a secret lab she keeps from vlad that she makes a point of saying is sound proof so he can scream all he wants...CHRIST. DANNYS POOR PYSCHE.

-also, not to feel bad for alternate vlad (because, he did lie to maddie saying jack blames her and never wants to see her again...) but. being married to a woman 20+ years and she immediately goes back to jack? if she didnt love vlad and feels like she had to hide shit from him, and says she wasted her best years with him, WHY MARRY HIM. it feels like leading him on!!! cannot believe im feeling bad for vlad, but. this alternate timeline vlad is significantly Less Horrible than Our Vlad. did she not think she'd get funding for her ghost stuff? (which, fair assumption since they're considered 'ghost fanatics/nuts in canon...but...) why did she think jack or vlad would be her ONLY OPTIONS? be like your sister. be single. Actually, this au could’ve been really interesting if after the accident, vlad lied to her and said jack never wanted to see her again, but she stays single. Imagine how much that would bug vlad… like, in her mind, it was never a competition it was jack or no one type situation…

-danny being like 'leave him ALONE' this jack is a HOMEWRECKER, DANNY. let them go to court and settle this at the least. ...or just throw vlad into the portal. (100% human, defenseless vlad) CHRIST, MADDIE THATS BRUTAL. THATS MURDER.

-danny seeing his mom immediately accepting him and his dad being half ghosts in this universe, if I was him this would be a great sign that his universe's maddie would also.

-*maddie voice* "clockwork will help!" *2 seconds later, with clockwork* "I will Not Help." TOUGH LOVE KING. YES LET DANNY SEE THE SODA HIMSELF AND DEVOLP BETTER OBSERVATION SKILLS.

-when clockwork ""reset time to the way it was"" just before danny "meddled"" ...did he really erase a whole alternate timeline? ...damn. because maddie and danny both called it an alternate timeline by name, it splitting when the college incident went different, so it wouldnt have really mattered if he reset it, right. like because danny's timeline is on a different stream? why didnt clockwork just. show danny a replay and not Reset That Timeline. wh...I wonder how many people that Erased From Existence. Anyway! once again stating clockwork is casually terrifying!

[blackdragonturds]

“Here” part 3!

Here is part 3! Enjoy! ******** I woke up early that next morning, yawning and stretching myself. I found that a neatly folded pile of fresh clothes were by my bedside and new shoes. I smiled putting them on.

It was a soft and nice blue blouse and pants as I looked quite nice in it.  I could hear chatter outside my room as I looked outside.

D’Vorah and Erron seemed to be discussing something.

“That broken flower of a human is powerless! How can they be able to serve the Kahn?”

“Indigos are rare, D’Vorah. They’re one of a kind and they can alter their abilities if given time.”

Indigo? What in God’s name is an Indigo?

I hid behind my door listening in on it. The bug lady began,

“Erron, you wasted your money. That human will die young you know. The only way to spare them is to take them to Shang Tsung and slow their aging process.”

“I know.  I plan to.”

“Without the Kahn’s consent?”

“Beat you to the punch. He said I can last night.”

“If you insist, but if that moon child turns into bloody slime its your responsibility.”

I gulped at that statement. What were they gonna do to me?!

I had to keep myself calm as I could hear footsteps approach my door.

“Hey, Y/N, you awake?” Erron called.

“Just a second!”

I open the door to see Erron with a veil over his arm and he tells me,

“Well, you’re comin’ with me kid.”

“Okay. Where to?”

“To a friend of mine. He can answer your questions.”

He approaches me to place the veil over my head.

“Nuttin’ personal kid, but the Kahn wanted me to see to slowing down your aging process. That way you’ll be around for a few centuries.”

I was in total disbelief.

“Wait, what?! What are you saying?”

He sighed with an annoyed tone informing me,

“I am saying that the Kahn doesn’t like the shortness of a human life span, so I’m taking you to a special friend of mine to take care of that. Now come with me.”

I nodded and he called to D’Vorah.

“Hey! Toss me that amulet will ya’?”

The bug lady smiled and handed him the device,

“With pleasure Erron.”

Taking the item, he opens another portal wiping slime off his hand with his pants. He looked at me for a split second before he looked away.

I wonder what this was all about…

“Well, let’s go.” he didn’t sound confident but I obey.

“Y…yes sir…”

I follow him through the portal, and he grabbed my wrist. It didn’t hurt, but he was frighteningly strong.

“You move too slowly. Stay behind me.”

“Okay, sorry…”

Once through the portal, I find myself in a place not like the throne room of Kotal Kahn’s palace. It had a temple feel with jade statues everywhere.

I see Erron walk with me, my wrist still in his hand to a man with what seemed to be Chinese features. Long black hair neatly braided behind him and silk black and yellow robes. He smiles seeing the man holding my wrist.

“My dear friend Erron Black. What a pleasant surprise.”

“Hello Shang. I have a problem.”

Erron let go of my wrist finally but left a welt in me. He pushed me towards the man as Shang coyly replied,

“Be gentle! You brought a fine specimen. What do you plan on with this mortal? An offering to my experiments?”

Erron told him,

“I need you to slow down that kid’s aging process. Kahn’s orders.”

Shang gathered my hands into his while he stared at me,

“Pity I can’t keep you my dear. This one is quite beautiful…Is this one a sleigh beggy by chance?”

“No, They’re an Indigo, a moon child. Or as some call them lost souls.” Erron’s tone sounded concerned, or maybe it was just me. I can sense a person’s tone how they really feel. Is he actually concerned about me?

“Ahhh I see. If this one were a sleigh beggy that would be twice as difficult to work with.”

Shang brought his hand up to touch my face. I felt odd receiving such compliments.

“I see why Kotal Kahn wants this one, quite special indeed. Thank you Black. i will see to that at once.”

Erron warned him,

“No funny business, we clear?”

“Whatever do you mean?” Shang asked in a playful tone.

“I mean, don’t make any stupid mistakes or fuck up. I payed good money for that Indigo.” Erron growled.

Shang’s expression turned into a smirk.

“You bought this moon child? As much as I am opposed to buying slaves I will admit, you bought a beauty.”

Shang lowers his hands off my face and takes my hand.

“Come with me you two so we may begin.”

I turn my gaze to Erron, and I could see a bit of fear or concern in his eyes. Well, I am scared too a bit. I don’t know this Shang Tsung from Adam or Eve for that matter.

Shang led us to a work room I presume, full of all kinds of items I never saw on Earth. Were there embalming tools on the table? And I wondered why there were fetuses in jars of some odd orange liquid on a high shelf. I felt uneasy as Shang strides into his small back room for something.

“Ah ha! Here it is!”

He reveals a large green box with an ornately decorated lid. In a way it resembled a treasure chest but with a heart design on the lock. He handed it to Erron,

“You know the procedure Black.”

“Of course. Hey Y/N…”

I turned my attention to Erron.

“Can you reach behind me and grab that satchel hanging off my belt? Its the brown one next to the small vials of sand. I would but my hands are full.”

“Okay.” I replied.

I walk behind him, pushing his cape aside reaching for the small pouch.

Erron said calmly,

“Shang, how’s a hundred thousand for payment?”

“That will be just fine. If you were a stranger I’d charge extra.”

“I know,”

Erron informed me,

“Hand the coin pouch to him. I have what you need.”

Nodding, I handed the coin purse to the man,

“Thank you my dear.” Shang smiled, placing the bag on his desk. Knitting his fingers together, he purred,

“Now I just need a blood sample and we can get started.”

“Blood sample? What are you up to?” Erron asked.

“Not from you, them.” He said pointing to me. I felt afraid and hugged Erron’s side. I began to tremble fearing the worst.

“Don’t be afraid, he’s gonna help you…I hope.” His last statement was more of a whisper.

Shang patted my head,

“I didn’t mean to frighten you, child.”

He pulls a small knife out from his sleeve,

“May I see your arm?”

I reluctantly stretch my arm out, and as quick as a wink, Shang cut my wrist across with a swift motion. I wince in pain as I saw blood drain from my wrist.

“Don’t hurt them, Shang.” Erron hissed.

“Oh I won’t friend.”

The man took his now bloody knife and tasted it.

Eww…

He smiled, and said in a pleased tone.

“I knew it…that taste is one in three trillion.”

Erron looked at me in a fearful manner as Tsung continued,

“This one is truly an indigo. You chose a great specimen. Now, you two may leave to your own accord. The instructions on the age slowing process are in the chest.”

Erron gave a polite tip of his hat, and walked with me out the door. I held the door open for him as he set the box down onto the ground. He inspected my cut as he shook his head.

“What’s wrong?” I asked.

“He shouldn’t have cut you like that. Any deeper you would get an infection.”

He reaches into one of his pockets and bandages up my wound with a handkerchief.

“That should slow down the bleeding.”

“Erron?”

“What?”

“Where you afraid of what would happen?”

He looked down to his shoes and took a while to answer me.

“He’s been different for a while now. I…I can’t explain how.”

I hugged him tightly out of whatever instinct I had telling me to.

“Huh?”

“Thank you Erron. I oddly feel safe around you…” I whispered.

Rubbing my head, he said to me in a softer tone,

“You’re welcome. Let’s get you back to the Kahn’s quarters so I can get your age slowing started.”

I nodded letting go of him. He pushed my face up to look at me.

“Are you feeling all right? You look kind of pale…”

“I’m fine…what the…”

Suddenly, the world around me felt like it was spinning. I felt dizzy and I fell to the ground. Everything turned black as I closed my eyes.

Erron’s POV

“Y/N!”

I tried to grab them as they fell but I managed to keep their head from hitting the ground. I felt my throat grow tight in concern as I looked around wondering how to assess the situation. The veil I had on Y/N to protect them didn’t work it seemed. That thing was supposed to help protect from Shang’s spellwork! But wait…

What exactly am I feeling? Why did my heart suddenly feel tight when Y/N fell?

Tossing Y/N over my shoulder, I try to reach for my belt for Shinnok’s amulet. Opening a portal to Kotal Kahn’s throne room, I stick it back to my belt and lift the box of things Y/N needed. I get up to walk through the portal. Soon, I see Kotal Kahn stand waiting by the portal.

“What has happened?” He demanded.

“Y/N passed out on our way back. I dunno what Shang did to them. He acted totally different when I went to get the things we need.”

The Kahn rubbed his chin to think.

“That sorcerer has been different? How?”

“When I informed him Y/N was an indigo, he seemed to grow malicious. I think he wanted to keep them for his experiments.”

The Kahn nodded,

“Good thing you left early then. I don’t want my future soothsayer to be dead.”

“Yes my lord.”

I carried the box and Y/N to their small bed, placing the chest on the floor. Opening the chest was a small vial, a note and some things I used when I slowed my aging. But this didn’t seem right.

Closing the chest, the Kahn tisk-tisks at me.

“I did what I had to my Emperor.”

“That is not the issue Erron. If what happened was because of Shang Tsung, you are not in the wrong here. You may stay with Y/N until they awaken.”

“Yes my lord…”

Now what should I do? But I didn’t ask. No way would I risk it.

to be continued…

[threadsketchier]

So I saw the prequels prior to the Originals and it always bothered me how Luke got dumped on a death planet of Tatooine considering the state of that environment and shot that when down in the previous films while Leia got a life of privilege. I was hoping Bail would argue against splitting the twins. I obviously knew why it had to go that route because it had to align and follow up with the Originals. I guess it came off that Luke wasn’t really wanted...?

I already wrote a ficlet somewhat addressing this misconception.

Also, frankly, I’m getting kind of tired of rehashing the same issue - why do people keep assuming that the Larses don’t matter and don’t have a right to be in Luke’s life just because they live on Space Australia?  Why do their feelings not count just because they’re low-to-middle-class moisture farmers who don’t live in a palace on Space Switzerland-Utopia?  Why the fuck do people assume that Luke wasn’t wanted just because the Organas have a personal preference that was obviously previously established before shit hit the fans and they wanted a daughter and Bail, as a senator and Viceroy - essentially co-leader of his planet - is a fucking rational guy who understands the necessity of making hard decisions dictated by logic over emotions?

The twins weren’t just “split up because that’s how the movies have to go,” it does make internal sense within the narrative that it was safer to hide them in vastly separate locations to prevent both of them from being discovered at the same time and thus lost together, or for their latent Force bond to make them a psychic target if they grew up together and established it, acting like a beacon for Vader and Palpatine and any minions of theirs.  It sucks, it’s painful, it has awkward consequences for them later on when Leia’s a bit too loose with her lips, but that’s why these movies have a tragic backstory.  It has to suck real hard before it gets better.

Does it seem crazy that Leia wound up raised in such a screamingly obvious position as daughter of a then-Imperial Senator and princess of a highly prominent Core world being trained to follow in her biological mother’s footsteps and become a senator herself, thus occupying a very exposed role in the Empire, right under the Emperor’s and Vader’s noses?  Yeah.  But also remember that the Superman/Clark Kent illusion can actually work in real life.  Assumption is a powerful thing.  Your average Joe Citizen would assume that someone as otherworldly as Superman, an alien with the ability to fly, strength to bench-press skyscrapers and jumbo jets, heat vision, and other amazing things, would never stoop to living as a normal, humble, inconvenienced human being.  It’s not merely the hiding behind a pair of glasses and hunching over a little with a nerdy tone and habits - it’s the entire idea that a Clark Kent could even exist in the same person of Superman.  They don’t understand that he was raised as a human and actually desires this life, and doesn’t feel the need to lock himself away permanently in his dope Fortress of Solitude and never interact with the very people he wants to save and protect.

Vader was lied to by Palpatine about the nature of Padmé’s death, but there was no disputing that she actually died.  In his crushing despair, Vader accepted with heaps of self-flagellation that his child was dead.  He didn’t even know he had two children.  In his mind, whenever he saw Leia - surely they were in each other’s circles at least at a distance before Rogue One and ANH - even if she reminded him of Padmé six ways from Sunday, he would not assume she was his daughter, because as far as he was concerned his child was dead.  The OT establishes that latent Force-sensitivity also does not automatically make two related Force-sensitives consciously aware of each other until they mutually know one another as being related and Force-sensitive, so not even torturing Leia revealed this to him.

But I’m going off on a tangent.  Let’s break this down:

Tatooine is nothing but a source of anguish for Anakin and his personal loathing for the place made it ideal as a hiding place.  And no, I’m not just haha joking about sand.  He was a slave there and buried his mother there after slaughtering an entire village of natives he knew in his heart that he shouldn’t have.  It holds nothing but misery and failure for him.

Yes, Tatooine is abso-fucking-lutely a galactic cesspit.  It’s ruled by the most vile mob boss in the galaxy, is rife with nasty wildlife that’s out to kill you, and is haunted by the troubles brought about by strife between colonizers and the native population.  It is indisputably a dangerous place.  But it wasn’t Tatooine that killed the Larses.  It was the Empire.  Just because they look like Soft Folks™ doesn’t mean they were - Owen and Beru knew how to take care of themselves, and they certainly knew how to take care of a child in this environment.  They survived to middle age just fine, and would’ve kept going if it wasn’t for those fucking stormtroopers.  Just because they didn’t live a life of luxury also doesn’t mean they were dirt poor either.  When we meet Luke in ANH, he’s a healthy young lad who still has the privilege to fuck off with his buddies around his farm duties.  Life may be tough but it’s not squalor and deprivation for him.

But honestly, even if they WERE dirt poor, they’re still Luke’s family, and they very obviously loved him.  I almost feel like I shouldn’t have to restate it, but I will: Owen and Beru loved Shmi, and upon hearing that Anakin died and left behind a baby son, why wouldn’t they be moved and compelled to take Luke in, and why wouldn’t they deserve to have the chance to raise him in their memory?  Even though they’d be sad that Luke was orphaned, they might even see this as a blessing to be able to raise Shmi’s grandson and Anakin’s son.

As much as he bitched about chores as a teenager, Luke learned damn valuable skills growing up on a Tatooine moisture farm that, coupled with the Force, saved everybody’s asses at the Battle of Yavin, and went on to make him an ideal squadron leader.  Wealth and privilege are not always the best foundation, or at least certainly not the automatic one, for a person to learn good character either.

The Organas are human too.  Faced with a difficult choice, they decided to take this poignant opportunity to fulfill a dream they’d been deferring for some time.  Sometimes parents wish for a specific child, and that’s their prerogative (except IRL they don’t actually get to pick, they get whatever kid they gestate).  If they’d taken Luke and let Obi-Wan take Leia, we’d be having the same argument about Leia growing up on Tatooine.  There was no inequality in this decision.  Bail and Breha wanted a daughter, there was a daughter present among the twins, so they chose her.  This does not mean they valued Luke any less.  Since the twins couldn’t be raised together for their own safety, it might as well have come down to a coin toss.  Bail isn’t evil for exercising a shred of his personal emotions and desires in a situation where he otherwise knew he’d have to restrain himself.  Also, he’d be smart enough to respect the fact that both children had actual family elsewhere in the galaxy and wouldn’t think any less of the Larses just because they live on Tatooine.  The only way his decision would be careless or heinous was if he knew Luke was being taken to people who were abusive or so destitute they couldn’t even care for themselves, much less a third person, and he did nothing about it - but we know this is not that situation.

How do you feel about non-wealthy people living in harsh places here on Earth raising their children?  Would you expect all the rich people in the world to go take those children away from them and adopt them just so they could grow up “privileged” instead?  Think about how that sounds for a moment or two.

Honestly, if Bail had tried to argue about taking both twins because he felt taking Luke to his legal family on Tatooine was “cruel” or “neglectful” because of the planet’s “risky environment and poverty,” I’d hope either Obi-Wan or Yoda would have enough sense to smack him upside the head for being so thoughtless as to insult these people for being seemingly beneath him.

There is more to life than money and power/prestige, and Leia’s upbringing wasn’t all it was cracked up to be.  She was no pampered, air-headed royal spending her days sitting idle being hand-fed space grapes while her “poor” brother ate sand cookies.  She had to undergo intensive academic, political, and physical training from young childhood in order to prepare her to become a covert Rebel agent while she was still a teenager, as if being a child senator wasn’t already stressful and demanding enough.  Sure, she never lacked for anything, but that is an incredible amount of responsibility to saddle on someone who wasn’t even an adult yet (like her bio mother).  Luke was blessed with far more freedom and peace in his childhood than his sister.  And him living on Tatooine with his father’s surname wasn’t nearly as dangerous as Leia existing within the heart of the Empire while actively engaging in Rebel activities that could have cost her her life, even without getting into the whole “daughter of Anakin Skywalker” business.

Also, just because we joke about Tatooine being Space Australia doesn’t mean every single day of Luke’s childhood was THAT eventful.  It was more likely 80% dull farm life and 20% mayhem, and that 20% would be mostly Luke’s fault for being a crazy nut like his parents and getting himself into trouble he could have avoided in most cases.  In other words, growing up there might not have been nearly as “deadly” as we make it out to be.

[bxthharmon]

Never Go Home Again, Pt. VIII || JJ Maybank x Reader

Words: 4102 (jeez, making up for a short last episode??)

Series Warnings: violence / talking about abuse / toxic relationships / talking about nudes sex tapes and sex tapes / drugs / underage drinking

Pt. Warnings: Breaking and entering? / underage drinking

Series Summary: A new girl, a shoebox of old memories, a past she’s trying to forget coincide with a hotheaded, but selfless, boy.  teenagers getting in way over their heads

Pt. Summary: Midsummers takes place as the pogues make headway in the hunt, Y/N struggles with her two friends’ enmity.

A/N: okay so longgg chapter. hope it’s not too bad, and i only hv one chapter left in my drafts so im gonna have to start writing instead of just editing... hopefully updates will stay just as frequent tho. lemme know abt tags and feedback, and pleaseeeeeee send requests!!! lockdowns giving way too much time.

Chapters linked in my masterlist.

“masterlist”

You borrowed your dad’s car, and dressed in the simplistic, elegant dress intended for your prom back in LA, you arrived at the party. 

You found yourself surrounded in summery cocktail dresses and flower crowns, tuxedos that ranged from elegant dark blue to pastel pinks, a couple of floral patterns spicing up the mix. Soft lights hung loosely over the patio, lights hardly noticeable in the soft, bright hue of the evening, the sun yet to fall into the glittering sea stretched out from the view in the hotel. You worked your way through the silks, chiffons and satins. Drinks were pushed into your hand, tapas offered and awkward smiles shared. By the time you found Kie, you were armed with a glass of champagne and the feeling of not belonging. She laughed at your already exhausted smile, and had dragged you to find Pope. Once you were with Kie, it took twice as long to get anywhere, because everyone seemed to stop her and ask about her parents, the restaurant, or to offer criticism on her choice of friends, giving you side-eye. You were the one who spotted Pope, pointing him out and letting her drag you over to him.

“Excuse me, sir,” Kie mocked a British accent, “do we have to shuck these ourselves? ‘Cause it might mess up my costume.” 

You all laughed, hugging him in greeting. “We wouldn’t want that now, would we?” Pope returned the joke, doing your pogue handshake.

“That accent was bad.” You shook your head.

“Yeah, it was. I was gonna let it go.” She laughed, “Y/N’s is way better.”

“Oh stop it!” you joked, in your British accent, pretending to blush, “You’re making me blush.”

“You ever seen this many kooks in one place?” Kie asked.

“Yeah, last year.” Pope grinned.

“We’re in the lion’s den.” You sighed. “Hey, have either of you heard from JJ?”

They looked at you sympathetically, shaking their heads.

“He’ll be alright.” Kie soothed. “He’s got the survival instincts of a cockroach.” 

“In the month I’ve known him, this is the longest I’ve gone without hearing from him.” You sighed, and Pope looked down guiltily.

“This is my fault.” 

“You didn’t do this, Pope.” you assured him, “Topper almost killed you, remember? JJ chose to, you know him, always putting others first. You can’t carry the blame, that’s not fair on you.”

You turned to the noise of an applaud, seeing Sarah and her family entering. You held back a snigger at the sight of Rose’s crown, but smiled at Sarah, who smiled back.

“Here come Lord Capital and the exploiters.” Kie sighed.

“She’s definitely gonna poke someone’s eye out with that.” Pope commented, and you looked back at Rose’s headdress, this time unable to contain the giggle.

You chatted for a while longer, finishing the lavish champagne and wanting to have some fun. You had practically dragged Kie to the dance floor, making her dance with you as a steady flow of drinks passed both your systems. Eventually, she was summoned to talk with her parents, leaving you alone on the dance floor. Before long, you found yourself dancing with Sarah, spinning her round, and exaggerating the both of your moves, mocking the way the adults were dancing. You went to get a drink after a few songs, and walked straight into JJ.

He was just as surprised as you, but you reacted quickly, pulling him down into a soft kiss by his collar. You looked over your shoulder, blushing at the sight of Pope and Kie clapping and giving you thumbs up. You turned your attention to him, tracing your thumb over his split lip and the bruises on the left side of his face. The dark cut contrasted the pink of his lips, and the bruises looked a painful, mottled purple that spread over his jaw and up to his cheek bone.

“JJ,” you murmured, “Did your dad do this?” 

“My dad, got a nice right jab, ya know?” he tried to joke, seeing the worry in your eyes. The light he hoped would return to your eyes stayed gone, as anger took over your features.

“JJ, I’m gonna fucking kill him.” you seethed, “He had no fucking-”

“Y/N,” he said, cupping your face, “leave it, okay? It’s nothing that hasn’t happened before.”

“JJ that’s not making me feel any bet-”

He kissed you again, taking you off guard, and you smiled softly when he pulled away. “I gotta go,” he mumbled, “I’ll see you in a bit, I promise, babygirl.”

You nodded dumbly as he walked away, turning back to Sarah, and seeing her wiggling her eyebrows suggestively at you. You rolled your eyes at her, making an excuse to leave, and walked over to Kie, who started pestering you for details, which you supplied. Your discussion with Kie was cut short by the sight of JJ being hauled out of the house and into the garden.

“Hey, Mr Dunleavy, I see you got your drink. Good, that’s really nice of you. I’m actually gonna down that.” he took the drink, and, well, downed it. “It’s okay everybody!” he yelled, “Do not panic. Leave it to the men and women in uniform! Let’s hear it for them!” he shouted, making you and Kie smirk, trying to hide your giggles. “Rose! You look like lady liberty. Good to see you again. Hey, buddy, can I have one of those?”

“Let go of him!” You called, working your way towards him.

“You can’t just boot him!” Kie backed you, ignoring the warning looks you were both getting from her parents. He looked up at you, a tiny smile on his face. “I invited him here! I’m a member of this club.” she continued through her parent’s protests. JJ turned and pushed the guard into the crowd, stumbling in the opposite direction.

“Sorry about that! Hey,” he pointed at you and Kie, “mandatory power hour at Rixon’s, Kie, Y/N. Pope, you as well, alright? Rixon’s cove, let’s roll! A’ight Y/N, come on!” You grinned, he turned to Kie, “Workers of the world unite, throw off your chains!”

Kie and Pope ran ahead, both hugging John B, and you ran straight into JJ’s arms, letting him swing you around and kiss you, for once, not caring that everyone was staring.

--

“Hey, guys, so like, my dad’s already gonna kill me.” Pope said as you all settled around the campfire. “So what’s this mandatory meeting about?”

John B shot finger guns to JJ, who looked up, “Might as well tell him, man, before we’re all gaffed.”

“You ready for this? John B replied.

You and Kie looked at each other, “Yeah.” you said, in unison.

“So, the gold never went down with the Royal Merchant.” John B started.

“Here we go again.” You muttered, settling into JJ’s side.

“No, alright? Wait. Hear him out, alright?” JJ backed John B, and you frowned, shrugging and gesturing for him to continue.

“It’s been here the whole time. It’s on the island.”

“Are you serious?” Kie asked. “Oh my God.”

“I’d like to voice my skepticism.” Pope spoke.

“I’m sure you would, Pope, but can I please present you with my evidence, Sir?”

“Proceed.” Pope mocked.

“Alright, so, in my backpack, I have a letter from Denmark Tanny.” 

“Who the fuck’s that?” You questioned.

“Denmark Tanny was a slave who survived the Royal merchant wreck. Check this out.” he handed Kie some paper, “So slaves weren’t mentioned as crew members on the ship, but my dad, he found the complete manifest. That was his big discovery. So Tanny used the gold from the Merchant to buy his freedom.” Kie passed you the paper. “After that, he bought his farm. Drumroll please,” you drumrolled on your thighs, “because that farm is… Tannyhill Plantation.”

“Tannyhill?” Kie affirmed. You passed Pope the paper.

“Yeah.” John B continued, “so after that, he used his money to free even more slaves. And then he sold a shit ton of rice, which pisses off all the white planters, and then they decide to lynch him. So on the day they were coming to get him, he writes a letter to his son as a farewell, and in the last line of that letter, he leaves a coded message about where to find the gold.”

“Where?” You whisper excitedly.

“Harvest the wheat, in parcel nine, near the water. Except, there’s no wheat. You see, wheat is code for gold. Check this out.” he shows you another piece of paper, and a map. “The gold is in parcel nine, near the water.” you and Kie squeal, laughing excitedly, “All we need is an original survey map of the property, and we’ve found the gold!”

“Okay, so, this might have a small chance of actually being true.” Pope said, and JJ got up from beside you.

“Dude,” you laughed, “this is like, King Tut!” 

JJ pulled John B into a hug, lifting him up. “Hello, fire! You’re near the fire. You’re gonna burn.” John B warned, and JJ put him down. “I’m so proud of you right now.”

“Thank you.”

“That’s really sweet of you.” JJ looked at you, “And jeez, Y/N, what is it with you and Tutankhamun?”

“4th Grade history?” You guessed.

“Okay, so, guys,” Pope brought the attention back. “What’s the plan?”

“Good question.” John B agreed.

“How long does this go on for?” you moaned, “Wrap it up, JB.”

“Sarah Cameron’s coming tonight.” he simplified. “And she’ll bring the original survey.”

“Hold on.” Kie stopped him, “Sarah? Wh-why Sarah?”

“This is gonna be good.” JJ muttered, and you raised your eyebrows at him.

“Sarah, um, she - she helped me into the archives at Chapel Hill yesterday, and that’s where I got the letter.”

“You were in Chapel Hill with Sarah Cameron?” Kie frowned, anger contorting her features.

“Are you guys macking?” you asked, a disbelieving smirk on your lips.

“He was mackin’ on her.” JJ confirmed, interrupting John B’s pitiful attempts at an explanation, and earning him a giggle from you.

“For real?” you asked John B.

“I wasn’t macking.” John B defended.

“You were totally macking Sarah Cameron.” JJ repeated.

“I wasn’t macking on her, okay? I was using her for access.”

“There was access, alright.” JJ mumbled, earning another giggle.

“Okay,” you piped up, “JB you should have consulted first, Kie, she obviously did something shitty, but JB, using her is pure shitty, so you better just be covering for yourself right now.”

He looked at you defeated, and you groaned. “Did you tell her about the treasure?” Kie asked.

“I was just trying to get into the archives!”

“Is that a yes?”

“I left out key details!”

“Yo, what? You let a kook in on our secret? What about Pogue Lyfe? What about the t-shirt company, bro?”

“I was just using her for information.”

“Why don’t I believe you?”

“I’m tryna make us filthy rich here! Okay, so that we can pay off a boat, or - or, uh, send you to autopsy school to study dead bodies! Look, you guys know me! Do I look like the kind of person who would fall for Sarah Cameron?”

You and JJ made eye contact, “well..” you started.

“Um.” he chuckled.

“Do you want us to answer that, or-”

“Just - just stop.” John B looked at the pair of you, defeated.

“Look, you don’t know her yet, I do! You can’t trust her!”

“Her brother did hit me in the back with a golf club.” Pope pointed out.

“Rafe and Sarah are different human beings.” John B countered.

“What did she do to you, exactly?” you asked Kie, wandering how she could hate your friend so much.

“She’s like a - a spitting cobra. First she - first she blinds you and then she-”

“This is a bad analogy.” you mumbled.

“Listen to me!” Kie demanded, “Whatever we get, she’s gonna try to take.”

--

You and JJ were lying on your bed, not having bothered to get changed before getting under the covers. You interlocked your fingers with his, snuggling closer, your eyes barely open. “What do you think Sarah did?”

JJ turned his head to look at you, he could tell it was tearing you up. “I… don’t know.” JJ sighed, defeated. “I’ve known Kie for years, and she’s never talked about it.”

“Sarah was super kind to me, I don’t understand why Kie is so against her. It’s so shitty, ‘cause they’re both my friends, and I want them to get on, but they obviously won’t.”

“They might?” JJ muttered, thinking.

“C’mon, Jay, you know it’s impossible. And I don’t even know what happened between them, so I can’t fix it.” 

“You know it’s not up to you to fix it, right?”

“So why do I feel like I have to?”

“Because you’re an empathetic, kind, brilliant person?”

“Jay,” you groaned, as he kissed you, “Be serious!”

“I am.” he mumbled, kissing you again.

“You’re infuriating,” you giggled, “you know that?”

“It’s all part of my brand.”

“Your brand?”

“Oh yeah, super-hot surfer pogue, insanely funny, get’s the best weed on the island, you know, the usual.”

“You’re full of shit.”

“Hey! At least I have a brand!”

“Is that a comment aimed at me?” you mocked offence.

“I mean, your brand is ‘mysterious new girl’.”

“You think I’m mysterious?”

“I mean, yeah, none of us know, like, why you moved or anything about you.”

Your heart twinged, but you covered for yourself, mocking him, “It’s all part of my brand.”

--

“I’m sorry, you’re staying where?” Kie passed John B to get to the bar, the group having gathered in the Wreck.

“Tannyhill.” John B repeated, and you shook your head, disbelieving.

“So you’re living with Sarah Cameron?”

“Okay, look, the only reason I’m living there is because her dad bailed me out, right?”

“I still can’t believe you got pushed off that wooden frame thing.” You muttered, and he smirked, fighting down a laugh as you and Kie went to the group’s table.

“And it’s way better than foster care,” he continued, “which, by the way, where I was about to go if Ward didn’t-”

“Hey, so do you have membership to the clubs now?” Pope asked.

“I don’t know, Pope.”

“What about those little golf carts that they drive around?” JJ added, “You get one of them?”

“Does it come with a sweater-vest, or do you have to buy one of those on your own?” You add.

“Look, you promised.” Kie brought the focus back, like always. “You said you weren’t with her.”

“Bro, just own it.” JJ backed, “She got you.”

“Look if you wanna hang out with her, that’s fine.” Kie sighed, “I mean, Y/N sometimes hangs out with her. But I’m letting you know right now that I’m not doing anything with Sarah.”

“Do you guys see her here?” John B pointed out, “No, right. Okay. A little focus would be fantastic. We’ve got the map, right?”

“It’s all out of whack ‘cause the guy was ganja’d when he drew it.” JJ commented.

“No,” you corrected, “the coastline changed, dummy.”

“So we just have to look for landmarks that haven’t changed.” Pope clarified.

“What about the old forts?” John B suggested.

“You know, the more you guys talk, the more I realise that I know nothing about this island.” You observed, treasuring the feeling of JJ running a hand through your hair.

“Battery Jasper.” Kie pointed.

“Let’s go.” you  stood up, leading the group out to the VW.

John B drove, none of you really paying attention until you reached the landmark.

The five of you looked out over the island, expansive green leading to expansive blue, you were at a high point. “We’re in battery, right here.” Pope points on the map. “So if this is parcel nine, then it’s somewhere northeast of here.”

“Somewhere over there.” Kie points, and you take JJ’s juul off him, taking a puff, then handing it back.

“Over there?” JJ followed the point. “Guys, that’s not Tannyhill, that’s a subdivision.”

“Tannyhill Plantation used to be the entire island.” reminded John B. “It got sold into smaller pieces over time.”

Pope inspected the map again, “So we’re just looking for an old stone wall.”

You ventured back to the Twinkie, following Pope’d instructions, again. John B took a sharp left, pulling up next to an overgrown stone wall.

“That looks like a stone wall to me.” JJ said, almost proud.

“This is it.” Pope confirmed. Your car doors clattered open as you hopped out of the car.

“Not the Crain House.” John B sighed.

“Are you kidding me?” Kie repeated the sentiment.

“Worst case scenario.” JJ confirmed.

“Why’d it have to be here of all places?” Pope asked.

“Hang on a second.” You turned to your friends, your lack of apprehension standing out in the group. “It’s just a house. What’s the big deal?”

“I heard Mrs Crain buried her husband’s head on the property.” JJ told you. You all looked at him, the other’s in fear, you in skepticism.

“Well that’s bullshit.” you shrugged, taking a hold of the top of the wall and pulling yourself up, throwing your legs over and landing in the overgrown thicket. You pricked yourself in the brambles, and swore. The pogues on the other side of the wall immediately started asking if you were okay, making you giggle. “Just be careful of the brambles.”

Once they were all on the inside, you began to venture inwards. “Look, Y/N, you know whose house this is, right?”

“Some old lady’s?” you guessed, and were greeted with four unimpressed stares.

“Honestly, I don’t really believe the stories of this place.” John B joined your skepticism, but was shushed by Pope.

“Which stories did you hear?” JJ asked Kie.

“The one where she killed her husband with an axe and that she’s been holed up ever since.” said Kie, making you snort. “On certain nights, when the moon is full…”

You saw where it was going, and joined in with Kie’s mockingly spooky hand movements as she finished, “... you can see her in the window!” the pair of you giggled.

“No, girls, it’s not funny, ‘cause it’s all true.” JJ shook his head, as you and Kie made ‘Waah’ noises. “I swear to God guys, this is all real. I knew Hollis. Jeez!”

You smirked, “Yeah, jeez. Who knew you were superstitious? And who’s Hollis?”

“Wait, you knew Hollis Crain?” asked Pope.

“Who’s Hollis?” you repeated, ignored again.

“Yeah, dude.” JJ confirmed.

“Dude, how do you know Hollis Crain?”

“Dude, who is Hollis Crain?” you mocked Pope’s anxious movements.

“She was my babysitter, man. She told me all about it.” He looked around the group, “She told me the truth… about her mother and what happened in this house.”

“And what would that be?” You asked, still skeptical as you looked up to the unkempt house.

“So as a kid, she heard all the stories that her mother killed her father, and she was a murderer and all. Hollis didn’t believe it. Until that night.”

“What night?”

“It all came back to her.” JJ turned to look at the house, “When Hollis was six years old, she heard her parents arguing downstairs. So she goes downstairs to see her mom washing her hands in the sink full of blood. Her mother just says that she cut her finger. The next morning, she says her father and her split up. But then, Hollis noticed something. Her mother going into the parlour constantly, in and out and in and out with plastic bags. Weeks pass, and Hollis decides to use the outhouse. And as she’s using it, she looks down, and there, in the outhouse, is her father’s head, looking straight back at her.”

“God, you are so full of shit.” you and John B outburst in unison.

“Dude, I swear to God, man.” JJ shook his head.

“Did she call the police?” Pope asked.

“She didn’t have time.” you and John B started to walk on, only to be grabbed and pulled back by JJ.

“What?” you asked, confused. He turned to John B.

“You sure you wanna do this? She’s an axe murderer. You got a cast on.”

“I don’t give a shit if she’s an axe murderer, okay? I got nothing to lose, right? You comin’, or what?”

You follow John B through the garden, and he gathers you in a semicircle. “So here’s the plan. We need to look for the wheat near the water like it said in Denmark’s letter.”

“Okay, like, what kind of water?” asked Pope, “Like, pond water?”

JJ chuckled, “Bong water?” you slapped his arm lightly.

“It just said look for water, okay?”

“That’s the shittiest secret message ever.” Kie moved past John B.

“You wanna complain a little more, Kie? Nobody said it was gonna be easy.”

“I’ll search the northeast quadrant,” Pope started, addressing you and JJ, “you two search the northwest.”

“The decapitation quadrant?” JJ objected, and you took his arm, pulling him with you.

You scanned your area, coming up empty, then followed John B into the basement. You went in before JJ, who started singing a song about how Mrs Crain was going to kill you all.

You and Pope turned, shining your torches in his face.

“Can you stop?” You hissed, and he shut up.

You swung the torch light over the room, the broken and discarded furniture giving the room a horror-movie vibe. You’d never admit it, but you were beginning to feel creeped.

“This is the part of the movie where we get attacked by the old, half-dead blind lady.” You muttered, and JJ nodded, gesturing to you as if you had predicted the future, the others rolling their eyes.

“See any water?” Kie asked, five torches sweeping around the place. You felt a tickle on your arm and slapped, your palm coming away with the brown stain of squished insect. “Another dead end?”

JJ ran his hand on the pipes, “There’s not even water on the pipes.”

“There’s no water here.” Pope confirmed as you slapped another bug, noticing that it was a mosquito.

“Not a dropamino.” JJ continued.

“Know why we didn’t find it?” Kie piped up, “Bad karma.”

“Oh, God, here we go.” John B muttered.

“You know, we had a good thing going. And then you decide to rope in Barbie, and now the trail’s gone dry.”

“Literally,” smirked, “there’s no water.”

“Coincidence?” Kie continued as Pope and JJ sniggered, “Probably not.”

“This is exactly why I didn’t wanna tell you about Sarah.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

“What the hell’s the deal? What’s going on with you two?”

“Nothing.”

“Nothing? Is it because I kissed you? Is that the problem?”

Your eyes widened, your mouth forming a little ‘o’ as Kiara slapped him, JJ and Pope both calling out in surprise.

“Stop treating me like I’m some girl that’s obsessed with you instead of your best friend who’s actually trying to look out for you.”

The pair of them started bickering, slapping each other, using skeeters as excuses. You slapped your leg, seeing the brown stain of a mosquito, again.

“Why the fuck are there so many mosquitoes?” you fumed, slapping yourself again.

“Dude, I know, seriously. Tiny little vampire bats, just leave me alone.” JJ added, the pair of you slapping again, and again, and again. “Oh my gosh, can we leave? ‘Cause I’m already itchin’ to leave. Haha, punny.”

You looked at Pope, who was staring at the floor, his torch shining over it. You both stomped on the ground hearing the hollow sound as JJ tried to show you ‘Mrs Crain’s voodoo doll’. You picked up a stone, dropping it through the crack in the floorboards, and hearing the ‘plop’ as it landed in water. You and Pope scrambled, pushing the loose bits of wood out of the way to lift the board, opening up the well. Pope shone his torch down.

“Well, well, well.” he joked.

“Water great discovery.” You added.

“Great dad jokes, guys.” John B sighed.

“They built this part of the house right over it.”said Kie.

“This is where she hid the bodies.” JJ nodded.

“JJ, just stop.” You shook your head.

“No, I’m dead serious.”

“Yeah, you will be, because I’m seriously considering pushing you down that well.”

“It was never an outhouse.” JJ continued.

“She probably doesn’t even know it’s here.” Kie shrugged.

“So, we found water.” Pope looked to John B.

“We’re gonna need a really big rope.”

Tags: @tangledinsparkles @jellyfishbeansontoast @lolitstiana @ilikealotofpeople-younotsomuch @teamnick @thoughtsofthestars @obxmxybxnk @jjmaybankswife @kaelyn-lobrutto24 @sxcretinhuman @alexa-playafricabytoto @angvelics @badwolf00593 @coloradogirl07 @mendesmaybank​ @jiaraendgame

[victorie552onepiecespeedrun]

Reading One Piece pt 250: Today’s Topic Is: Everything Wrong With Feudal System. And Slavery. Cause We Have Slavery Now.

Chapter 497

Thoughts:

- Fpos/cs: “Save Rob Lucci: Kumadori performs to raise money for medical expenses” Goddammit, it’s always like this. Good people, keep it up! That’s so sweet! Keep it up! (tiny people on this island)

- rOP 250, yay!

- Franky and Usopp will work on Sunny while rest of them (minus Sanji) will go into town

- “I’m a slave to love!” Oh Sanji

- “Zoro! Where are you going all alone!?” “For a walk” *cue panic*

- I won’t type the whole exchange here, just know Zoro didn’t walk two steps away of Sunny and he’s already lost :D comedy gold

- Rest of Straw Hats went with Hachi and Camie (good thinking with transport, guys) into town

- “Some call them the world nobles, others the celestial dragons. They’re so arrogant they wear helmets to avoid breathing the air of common people.” Wow, ok

- “Remember, you mustn’t oppose them!” please oppose them

- Good thing they got Hachi with them, he’ll tell them outs and ins of that island

- Everyone stops on SA, including pirates, Navy, bounty hunters and human traffickers

- “If human traffickers catch you, they’ll sell you. And the law won’t protect you.” …

- I was pretty excited about SA last chapter but apparently it’s actually a horrible place to live

- Hachi put plasters on his face. That means nothing, nosir

- Haha, Luffy went into the bubble :D

- And now he got a bubble bike :D

- They all have bikes now :) it looks very fairy-tale-like (Camie has a really nice skirt, I want one)

- Hachi says bubbles pop when they leave SA climate (we got a demonstration with Luffy)

- BUT they work on Fishman Island!

- “I can’t wait to get to Fishman Island! I wish we were there right now!” I’m relatively sure they don’t go to Fishman Island until time-skip, which fills that comment with indescribable irony

- Lots of foods and hotels, which makes sense, that’s a main port

- Exploring islands is fun

- I don’t know how it looks in anime but here hotel rooms/buildings look like Christmas decorations :D

- they got souvenirs :D tourism at its best

- they split up, Nami and Robin went to the mall, boys+Camie will do the coating

- Robin says Camie is kinda quiet. I didn’t notice? But, traffickers. I get it. Straw Hats, keep your fish-people safe, I’m serious

- They went racing THE MOMENT responsible adults left the building :D

- Wait, what’s this?

- Oh SHIT that’s a slave

- …this is fucking horrible

- “Slavers wear collars tied to a chain. If you break a chain and run, the collar explodes!”  

- “That’s horrible!” yeah, Luffy :(

- “That’s a runaway slave! Get away! Don’t have anything to have with him!” what did these villagers see that causes that reaction

- “We… we have to help him!” “Arghh! What’s wrong with this place!” Brook and Chopper, Straw Hats represent

- Noble/Celestial Dragon alert (who calls themselves celestial dragons? They better can change into actual dragons or I swear to god will strike them off the list of respectful villains. Slavery is evil, just as villains should be, so. But this thing? No. You need to be THAT badass to call yourself a dragon. Galaxy level of badass, goddammit. Celestial requires a high badass level too, so I’m just. aaaaa)

- “DON’T MAKE EYE CONTACT!” oh Hachi

- WHAT DID THAT DOG JUST DO

- …nobles alert

- So. This is happening.

- Oda doesn’t fuck around, huh?

- She killed him! SHE KILLED HIM

- After 

- (Hachi stopped Luffy from intervening)

- Oh, she might have not killed him. But not because she didn’t try

- “I feel sick” you and me both, buddy

- Apparently, if you harm a noble here, they call an Admiral to fight you

- “Is it Aokiji!?” that was my first thought too, Luffy :D It would be convenient for Straw Hats :D

- On second thought, I kinda hope not. That would mean Aokiji was actively helping slavers and I like Aokiji. I mean, WG clearly agrees to, maybe even encourages the situation on SA. By that means, Aokiji, by not interfering, passively agrees to everything here. I get that. But still

- “It could be Akainu or Kizaru” yeah. It tells me nothing. Was one of them in Ohara? Who was working hard on that promotion there

- (Yup, it was Akainu, he was there to kill survivors. What a first impression that was)

- “Why are these people so special?” “They have the blood of the creators” oh bullshit

- “Eight hundred years ago, twenty kings banded together to create the World Government. Their descendants are the Celestial Dragons.” LORE AND BULLSHIT, 2in1!

- “Over time, their power has gotten out of control” YOU THINK!?  

Ugh. Give me that lore and leave.

rOP 249  rOP 251

[thestorybrookeclocktower]

I’ve been abused. This is the first time I admit it to myself.

I’ve been abused several times, psychologically, mostly, but also phisically and sexually. It’s hard to admit it. It’s been harder to realize it.

I was an abused child. Before I dig into it, I’d like to point out that I’m managing to do this only thanks to She-Ra, to Catra, in particular, to Adora, and to this video: https://youtu.be/arsKPegw1Tg . So thank you, Noelle Stevenson, and thank you, whoever made that video.

I’m frightened, right now. I’m scared as fuck. I think I don’t know myself, I think I never did. But I must go on, I must find out who I really am. I owe it to myself. I’ve been hiding for too long.

I was an abused child, and I have to write it down because my mind keeps escaping that. It’s hard to stay focused, and that never happens to me, I’m a writer, when I write I’m concentrated, focused, but now... now it seems like my brain’s floating away. And I can’t let it do it.

My parents divorced when I was two or three years old, I’m not sure about it. I clearly remember the day my father went away, the door slamming, my mom crying and myself trying to reassure her, telling her I was there, she had notHing to worry about. I was always way older than my age.

After that, I guess (my memories are a bit confused in the timeline), my grandmother (so I was told) convinced my father to build a wall during the night in the middle of our house to split it in two. I remember waking up and finding this rough, grey wall. My mom lied and told me there had been a earthquake and that the wall fell down. I didn’t know how a collapsed wall would look like, and believed her. My father left us without a kitchen. As I said, I was two or three years old. Thinking about it now, it hurts me to think of how hard it must have been for my mother to face all of this. My father used to beat her, when they were together. She told me that he broke her cranium, once. I cant remember it, I don’t even know if I ever witnessed when it happened. But still.

Later, my mother fell in love with the man who became my step-father. He was our neighbor, they worked together so they already knew each other.

My father disappeared for two years. I spent one year living with my grandparents in another city, because my mother worked and wasn’t home for days, so che couldn’t leave me alone all that time. I remember missing her, and nothing more.

Then, I remember growing up with my mother’s partner trying to be a father. He couldn’t. He was mean to me. His idea of education was based on yells and threats. He continuously told me that I wasn’t his daughter, that I was nothing, that I was worth nothing.

I also remember that I wanted to be hurt. I wanted to hurt myself and, in my fantasies, when I played alone in my room or in the garden, I imagined my “enemies” kidnapping me and me sacrificing to save my friends. That thing lasted. I would always want to sacrifice to save someone I cared about, but who didn’t care about me as much as I did. I still have to understand why. I just need some time, I guess. After all, I just found out I have wounds.

We moved. My father came back, at some point. He started sending the police at our new home, accusing my mother of child abuse, I guess, and trying to claim me as if I was some kind of property. I guess I started feeling like an object when I spent my weekends and summer or winter vacations with him. He had the right to spend time with me, I didn’t have the right to choose. I don’t think he never treated me bad, he was simply unable to be a good father. He just left me with his friends’ children to play. I had fun with them, anyway. I always insisted to be the victim in our playtime, though. Something bad would always happen to my character. I often played the villain (they were happy with it, none ever wanted to be the villain but me), but my villain always had a reason, a past, a complicated story that led them to the dark side.

I guess I was never really happy. There was always this shadow, this weight on my soul. I still can’t name it. I only know it’s there, but it’s lighter today. Maybe because I see it for the first time.

When I went to middle school, I was depressed. I kept saying “we’ll die anyway, what changes if I do or I don’t do this?”. I also developed a passion for swords and daggers. I always read a lot, especially fantasy books, so I guess it was just natural that I started loving blade weapons.

I also felt guilty for continuously feeling sad. I thought I didn’t really have a reason. My family had money, I went to holiday four times per year instead than just twice, everything I asked they would just buy it to me. But my stepfather would always rub it in. He made me feel like I owed him everything I had, because he was the one who paid the bills. He is an alcoholic. He freaks out every time he gets drunk, and he starts drinking at ten a.m.. He would walk naked at home. I was way too young to see a naked man when it happened the first time. He also spied on me when I was in my room, so I was always anxious that he was watching me and could never relax.

I wasn’t good at school, I only liked mathematics but was terrible at all the rest. I just couldn’t concentrate, and now I know that I had locked myself in my fantasies, in another world, where I was strong, powerful, where I was happy. No, no, sorry. I’m lying to myself again. It didn’t go this way, actually. I locked myself in another world, it’s true, but that world was horrible. I was becoming a teenager and I started watching Buffy, so I was pretty obsessed by vampires at the time, and also I was starting to realize what sexual desire is. The thing is, in my fantasy I was powerful, yes, I was strong, but I was always defeated. I would get captured by this beautiful vampire woman who would torture me to death and then turn me into something different, with magic. I would become her sexual slave. I fell in love with her, in my mind, and I would submit to her. It’s embarrassing to admit it, yeah, it sucks, it’s rape, torture and Stockholm syndrome. But that’s the truth. As I said, I wanted to be hurt.

Also, despite this I never admitted to myself I liked girls. I didn’t even consider it as a possibility, I told myself I was in love with Angel (surprise, with the bad guy trying to redeem himself! Who would have thought that?).

At the same time, my mom got a bad self-immune disease and lost her job. Also, in the same years, one of the teacher at school started targeting me. I was shy and insecure and she would take advantage of it and humiliate me in front of everyone. She seriously damaged me, my self-confidence (as if I had any), and my stepfather made it only worse. I got bad grades from her (even when I was prepared I was so anxious that I couldn’t speak when she questioned me) and he got angry and yelled at me that I was stupid, that I was unable to do anything, that I was an imbecile and that I was worth nothing. Once he threw a school book at me and broke my lip.

My mother tried to comfort me, but I always hid what I was feeling. I was really, really depressed. So much that one day I grabbed one of my collectible daggers and aimed it at my stomach, and I pushed. I wanted to die. I wanted it to end. And I wanted a slow, painful death.

But I stopped. I didn’t even get a scratch, not because I changed my mind, not because I couldn’t find the “bravery” to kill myself, but because I didn’t want to hurt my mom. I knew she would be devastated if I died, and that is the only reason why I didn’t push harder. She still doesn’t know about all of this.

I guess I made myself a promise, that day: I’d be stronger. And it was a mistake, because I locked the doors of my heart doing so.

Years passed by. I learned Kung-Fu, I made some friends, just a few, lost others, this is not the point. They didn’t abuse me.

I started dating guys. Older boys, usually, and I convinced myself I was in love with them. One touched me without asking my permission, and I didn’t stop him. I was so stupid... gah. I wanted people to like me so much that I pretended to be like them. I told them I liked music I didn’t like, stuff like that. Silly, silly young me. I was lost and I didn’t know it.

Other years, more boys. I’m pretty, and I know it, and I used it to flirt with basically any guy I found. Shame on me, I know. I only kissed them. After all, I wasn’t even attracted by them. I liked girls, even if I didn’t want to accept it. I was already different, I didn’t want to be even more isolated.

I also spent a lot of time online chatting and gaming. I used to play to this online role play game by chat, I had found the perfect, fake, fantasy world there. My first character was an elf with positive alignment. I stopped playing her because she bored me. My second character was a sociopathic girl, a sadistic villain. I still have that character, even though I don’t play her anymore. I made her torture and try to kill innocent people several times. She was my dark side. I used her to take out my darkest instincts. I’m ashamed of who I was, now. I became a bully for a couple of years, a dangerous person, a mean person. I hate myself for that.

I was in high school and I was a little more equilibrated when this guy I knew since first grade asked me out. I knew he liked me since then, so I thought I had power on him (because that’s why I flirted with guys, I liked the power I had on them). He took me on his minicar and we found ourself in an isolated parking lot. He was never a healthy person. He was unstable since he was a kid, but he had always been kind with me. He was kind and pleasing even that night. And manipulative. And abusive. He used my ever-present sense of guilt, he told me I had to because he took me in his car and drove for me and waited all of those years, and he insisted for maybe half an hour until I gave in (I couldn’t leave the car, we were in a dangerous block and far from home). I had my first and only oral sex experience with a boy. It disgusted me so I stopped after like three seconds, but he forced me to masturbate him, he phisically did pushing my hand on his d*ck. When he came, he also said I wasn’t good at it. He then offered to give back the favour, I refused and asked him to take me home. Two day later I texted him saying it was over. God, this was hard to write. My heart is pumping in my chest. I need some water.

By the way, I was eighteen then and I still hadn’t had sex yet, and I was the only one in my class and between my friends in general. About them, I lost them all along the way. They simply let me down, not repaying everything I did or gave to them in terms of affection, or treating me like shit when I came out, or just disappearing slowly. I have trust issues for this, it’s hard for me to open up to someone now, but I’m trying.

I found this boy at a party, at that point I felt nothing, I was just curious about sex. We started dating. I didn’t like him, I approached him just because I thought his ass looked good. Yeah, how romantic of me. But, as I said, I felt nothing. I didn’t care about him. He fell in love with me, even though I told him many rimes I didn’t love him. I felt nothing for him, or with him, even in bed. Sex was a delusion to me, and I treated him like shit. But still, he would stay. Poor guy.

During those years (yes, we spent four years together somehow), I finally realized I liked girls. Fate brought me to a convention, where I met the love of my life. I ended the relationship with the boy and started my new life with her.

She changed me, a lot. I was a mess when we met. I was rough, selfish, the bad girl I always wanted to be, unable to love, to have a healthy relationship, unable to find the strenght to be vulnerable. She was patient with that broken, confused me, and I’ll never thank her enough for this. I don’t deserve her. She always supports me and shows me how much she loves me everyday. I’m so grateful for her.

I learned to be humble, I learned to be vulnerable, selfless, a decent humang being. I learned to love. I learned to protect her, not (only) myself. I dismantled almost all of my walls. I don’t know if this one I’m tearing down right now is the last one. I do hope so. I’m so tired of those cold walls. Today, I don’t want all these swords and daggers. I don’t need them anymore.

I wish I was strong as Catra and Adora, strong enough to face myself and let myself be happy. Thank you, Noelle, really. I always believed in the power of stories, but I never thought an animated show could give me so much, that I could relate so much to someone (let alone the importance of their relationship on screen for the LGBTQ+ community, it’s a true revolution). I was attracted to Catra since the beginning, I completely fell in love with her during the fifth season, and now I understand the reasons behind it. I just feel her, deeply. And I also deeply admire Adora, her pure soul, her strenght, her bright heart.

Sorry for the long post, sorry if there are any mistakes, English is not my first language. Thank you again.

[kavkasia]

hey jade I know you said you're busy but 👉👈 could you tell us more about your georgia of? i love the vibes I get from him and I'm not very well versed in the history of the caucasus so I'd love to hear more about him 👀

You know the way to my heart... ❤️

I’m going to ramble, so if you want me to expand on anything don’t be afraid to send an ask about it! I’m just trying to compact my notes and not write one giant paper LOL.

NAME

Human Name: Giorgi (Ilias Dze / Ilyich) Davitashvili

Giorgi — His first name actually started as a joke (Georgia... Giorgi... very clever) but it also works well. The patron saint of Georgia is Saint George: a military saint which has been popular in Georgia for centuries (parts of Georgia post-Christianization are believed to have combined the cult of Saint George with the cult of the pre-Christian moon god Armazi). Giorgi is also the most common male name in Georgia and the name of many Georgian kings.

Ilias Dze / Ilyich — He doesn’t actually use his patronymic anymore, but during the USSR he did have one because Obligatory Russification Time™. It’s after Prince Ilia Chavchavadze, a major contributor to the revival of the Georgian national movement in the late nineteenth century and widely considered to be the “Father of the Nation”.

Davitashvili — A Georgian surname roughly meaning “David’s child”. It’s a reference to the Bagratoni King David IV of Georgia (also known as David the Builder) who is famous for keeping the Seljuk Turks out of Georgia at the Battle of Didgori. It was under his reign that Georgia began to experience its Golden Age and much of the Caucasus region fell into Georgian hands.

AGE

He is around 2500 years old (physically he is in his mid-late 40s).

He considers himself to be an ancient nation like Armenia and Iran. Not that he’s wrong! It’s just not often acknowledged by others who aren’t familiar with him.

PERSONALITY

[steals bits of this from my RP blog because I got tired from linking wikis in an upcoming section oops]

MBTI: ESFP

• hospitable • sociable • stubborn • prideful • short-tempered • charismatic • confident • passionate • brave • spontaneous • lazy • sincere • boisterous •

Ok, listen. He is a bit of an asshole I’m not going to lie LMAO.

He is the type of guy that argues a point even when he knows jack shit about it (he knows more than a professional!!).

He has an opinion on everything.

He is super prideful to the point where he genuinely believes his culture is superior and his language/food/people/etc. are the best.

He has a bit of a temper (the kind that just jumps out with some build up) and he is sensitive to feeling slighted.

He is a flirt but it is not cool at all. He is an attractive guy (I have a reason lol) but he uses the worst pick up lines.

At the same time:

He is very devoted and loves genuine relationships. If you gain his favour he will do almost anything for you (there is also the reverse of this though).

He is so hospitable he is famous for it.

He treats his guests with the utmost respect.

He can be very chivalrous towards women (but it can come from a sexist place oops).

He is very friendly once you break through his initial serious shell.

He loves jokes and anecdotal humour.

Miscellaneous:

He loves rugby, wrestling, football, singing, dancing, wine, this movie, and eating absurd amounts of (hopefully Pasanauri) khinkali.

He hates rules, not having enough money for cigarettes, if you put on a seat belt when he’s driving, criticism, refusal, and being called “Gruzia.”

He also plays the panduri.

TIMELINE

Before I start, I have to say Giorgi is not a collective personification of Georgia. Giorgi is actually the personification of the Kartlians! He just has the title of Georgia and so represents the nation on the international level (and also the domestic level depending on the situation).

Start (~5th century BC)

I pinpoint his “birth” to be around when several Anatolian tribes settled in Eastern Georgia and merged with the local tribes. He had a couple caretakers who were like siblings or sibling-parents.

Kingdom of Iberia (Kingdom of Kartli) (302 BC–580 AD)

In this period he gets baptized, starts loving God and Jesus (becoming the second nation in the world to adopt Christianity) and says no to paganism (but lowkey-highkey pagan practices were kept up for a long time).

Also, Iberia is the Greco-Roman name that is used for the area. When you see Iberia, know that it’s Kartli.

Principality of Iberia (588–888)

He is just trying to live his life but the Byzantine Empire and Sassanid Iran are ruining everything by fighting over the area. He also continues to love God and Jesus.

Kingdom of the Iberians (888–1008)

Lots of politics. Honestly, I hate it here.

Kingdom of Georgia (1008–1490)

The Battle of Didgori happens during this period and it was the best moment of his life. He has several amazing rulers including King Tamar. Lots of wars against the Byzantine Empire, various Turkic states and more. Eventually, the kingdom breaks up.

Kingdom of Kartli (1478–1762)

Here he gets fucked over by Safavid Iran multiple times and also works as a weird slave soldier too so life is great.

Kingdom of Kartli-Kakheti (1762–1801)

He has a short marriage to Kakheti that ends after he gets completely fucked over by Russia and then forcibly annexed into the Russian Empire.

Georgia Governorate (apart of the Russian Empire) (1801–1917)

There were actually several governorates in this period but for the sake of simplicity I’m going to list it as that one.

I have a small write up about the time here.

Transcaucasian Democratic Federative Republic (1918)

The Caucasus splits off from Russia. Giorgi represents Georgia and the TDFR (Armenia and Azerbaijan are also there as co-representatives of the TDFR). The Entente will later say they need to stick together but they forget one crucial detail:

Democratic Republic of Georgia (1918–1921)

Georgia splits off from the TDFR. Time to create a republic with a socialist government! Amazing! Too bad he’s the wrong kind of socialist according to the Bolsheviks and gets brutally stomped by the Red Army in 1921! 

All his neighbours want to fight in this period as well. The Entente also won’t commit to helping Georgia until it’s too late because they were suspicious of him after he had been forced to ask the German Empire for protection in 1918.

Georgian Soviet Socialist Republic (1921–1991)

Listen, the USSR was terrible, but at least Georgia was actually one of the nicer Soviet republics because he won the geographic lottery. He even got stereotyped as being the rich republic.

We just aren’t allowed to talk about Russification or the purges or the discrimination or the fact they would only print Georgia’s most iconic piece of literature in Russian.

(Oh, it’s also my headcanon that until 1936 he shared the title of USSR with the other republics.)

Georgia (1991–present)

1990s sucked. 2000s sucked. 2010s sucked. 2020 sucks.

Summary:

NOTABLE RELATIONS

Ukraine

Best friend. Best girl. His Suliko. He loves her.

(I also have way too many dumb AUs for them 😭)

Lithuania

Other best friend. They call each other by their proper names because fuck Russian names. Also, this video is them (Giorgi is the wrestler).

Kakheti

They were married at one point in time. He is closest to her out of all the other Kartvelian regions (it’s the Eastern Georgian solidarity).

Armenia

He is like a brother but they only really acknowledge that when they’re in a good mood or when one wants something from the other. It’s a love-hate relationship that has gone on for centuries.

Russia

Azerbaijan

They are... okay. They go from tolerating to disliking each other pretty quickly. He hates when he hangs out with her and Turkey and they only speak Turkish to each other so he ends up being a third wheel that didn’t want to be here in the first place but his economic situation means he has to show up.

Iran

They had major issues but things are fine now, I guess.

Okay, Giorgi actually still has some issues, but Iran just wants to come over for a vacation sometimes.

EU and NATO

BUT YEAH UM... that’s Giorgi. This is all mostly surface level stuff so again, if you want me to expand on anything just ask. Thank you for the ask and ily. ❤️

[justasparkwritings]

Wake Up Call

Pairing: Kim Namjoon x Reader (but really you can lift out Namjoon and put anyone there)

Genre: Slice of Life / Angst 

Rating: PG-13 

Warnings: Swearing maybe 1 time, Discussion of police brutality/murder, Discussion of the trauma black and brown people are enduring, Discussion of the Chauvin verdict, Discussion of lives lost due to being black 

Word Count: 1.3K

Summary: It’s a bad omen whenever I call Namjoon in the morning. 

Note: This is heavy. This hurt to write. This hurts to read back. This is my reality. This is not me using police brutality to amass a following or gain notoriety or become anything other than what I am. This is meant for me to process, and for anyone of color who might be feeling the same thing as I am. This is meant as a way for me to process, as are so many of my other stories. This is my grief. 

          Namjoon knows that whenever I call in the middle of the night, or first thing in the morning, something is wrong. He couldn’t call it beginners luck, or intuition. Rather a series of events that had resulted in a pattern of behavior from me, his beloved. A call in the morning meant something had gone wrong between me waking up and returning home from work. A call in the morning meant I am a volcano of emotions, either crying, laughing, or both, distraught or exhausted, anxious or depressed. It means that across the globe, working on Pacific Time, something nearly catastrophic had occurred.

           A call in the morning, unless previously scheduled, has always been a bad omen.

           The first time I called him in the morning, my period was late. Like late late, to which he reminded me I had switched birth controls and that could’ve been the problem, it was.

           The second time, I was having a slight mental breakdown. I’d been sick for months with a variety of ailments, was worked to the bone and crumbling at my desk.

           The third time, Atatiana Jefferson was murdered by police in her home after a neighbor called a non-emergency number to report that her door was open.

           The fourth time, Ahmaud Arbery was murdered by two white men while on a run.

           The fifth time, Breonna Taylor was murdered in her bed while sleeping.

           The sixth time, George Floyd was murdered by police in broad daylight, crying out for his mother stating the simple fact that he couldn’t breathe.

           The seventh time, I was in hysterics, sobbing relentlessly into the receiver. I couldn’t handle it, I couldn’t handle another protest in tear gas, I couldn’t handle my kin fearing for their lives, I couldn’t handle the thought that my niece would have to sit through the talk. I couldn’t handle the idea that Namjoon and I would have to sit with our children, go over the rules and procedures for interacting with authority, prepare ourselves day after day that they could not come home. That no money or wealth would protect them if their eyes were shaped like his, their nose wide like mine. 

           What could he do? What could he say? He and the rest of Bangtan could throw as much money at various organizations as they could, watching ARMY meet it, raise it, push others to donate.

           But what did that do, other than show the world these black lives were worth more in death than life? That we’re worth nothing unless we’re imprisoned or in the ground? What did it do to fix the system, to abolish the inherent nature of police, originally created to patrol slaves? What did it do to protect black and brown bodies, to ensure their safety, to demand their lives be worth more alive?

          Nothing. It did nothing.

          He had gotten mad at me, why wasn’t I grateful that ARMY came through? Why wasn’t I glad that Bangtan had seen the news and wanted to help? Why couldn’t that be enough for what they could do in Seoul, sidelined by a pandemic?

          He didn’t get it.

          The eighth time, I had been in a minor incident and had to interact with the police. I had called my father to my side, a decision that could’ve easily resulted in his death. I called Namjoon shaking, how had I managed to have a successful interaction with the very people who could’ve tossed my father down, knee on his neck, and ended him? Had he driven the Tesla on purpose? Had he rolled up cautiously, in an appropriate August outfit, wallet and identification in his hand, not hidden or masked, to avoid any miscommunication? What was worse, had he done all of this without thinking?

          The ninth time I called him, a group of Asian women had been targeted and murdered by a white man. I was calm, I was put together. Namjoon wasn’t. He was inconsolable, he didn’t feel safe, he wasn’t accepting that this could be the reality if we split time in the states and Korea. How could our children be safe if this could happen, what if our daughter was at a nail salon? What if his mother or sister were? What would happen to him, to our future children, if they had eyes like him and a nose like mine? Would they be targeted for having the name Kim? Would their Americanness protect them?

          No. It wouldn’t. It couldn’t.

          I asked if he wanted to donate to help.

          He nearly hung up, anger seething in his deepest register.  

          How dare I suggest that money could help?

          I had thrown it back at him, and he whimpered. He buckled under the weight of his naivete. It’s one thing to copy black culture and make your fame off the commodification of our bodies. It’s another to watch the blatant racism and sexism we face on the regular basis so blatantly attack your own kind.

          He understood.

          The tenth time I called, Daunte Wright had just been murdered by police for having an air freshner in his review mirror. He had been murdered under the guise of the officer mistaking his own gun for a taser. He was 20.

          The eleventh time, 13 year old Adam Toledo had been gunned down for following the police’s directions. Even when complying, our very existence is a threat.

          The twelfth time I called, justice for George Floyd had been served. But I had to wonder, and I asked Namjoon, where was ARMY? Where were their fans? Was this not a moment, a tiny victory, for all minority groups held captive by their abusers? Were we not working towards ending the systems that allowed the white man who murdered eight women, six of Asian descent in Atlanta, the same? Did we not suffer slavery and bondage by the people who will claim this as a monumental step instead of a jury doing their fucking job? How could people who stood by him, who stood by people of his heritage, not stand for those who are bleeding in the street in their own country?

          Again, he didn’t know.

          He didn’t say anything to assuage my fears, to throw money at it, to give any answer other than to tell me he’s sorry. He’s sorry he can’t fix it or do anything about it, sorry he’s beholden to his company and their latest merger and can’t say anything. Sorry he can only understand a fraction of what I endure in this country, in my body. He was sorry.

          I don’t know when I’ll call him in the morning again, the next time a verdict will let a murderer off the hook or will send a guilty man to jail. I don’t know the next time a black or brown person will be murdered by remorseless cops. Or the next time a gunman, with a legal weapon, will murder women because it’s easier to blame them than deal with your own traumas. I don’t know when that moment will come.

          But I do know that in the United States, almost 1,000 people are murdered each year by police. That black people are 2x as likely as white people to be the victims, and black people age 25-34 are the highest risk to be murdered. I do know that the murderers of Tamir Rice, Trayvon Martin, Mike Brown, Sandra Bland, Atatiana Jefferson and countless others whose names we do not know, are walking around this country, not guilty.

          I know that I will always be afraid.

          I know that when I call Namjoon again, in the morning, or afternoon or middle of the night, he will answer. He will listen. He will love me and protect me as much as his money can buy.

           I do know that these brothers and sisters murders are not in vain. Rest in power. 

[surveys-at-your-service]

Survey #398

“freedom is just man’s invention, & a soldier is just a slave”

What do you do the most when you’re online? Watch/listen to YouTube. Do you have a bobblehead? No. Have you ever spent your birthday alone? No, that sure would suck. Were you afraid of heights as a child? Actually no, but NOW I kinda am. Have you ever had a lead role in a play? No. Would you ever take a solo road trip? No, that sounds super depressing and lonely. Do the mountains fascinate you? Of course! So much history built into a magnificent, awe-inspiring piece of nature. Have you ever been insulted or called names by a significant other? Wow, no. I wouldn't tolerate that for a second. What’s your favorite movie battle scene? The fight between Simba and Scar is very powerful imo. Have you ever been to a same-sex wedding? No, but not because I'm opposed. I'd love to go to one and be the photographer. What’s your favorite Marvel movie? Probably one of the Spider-Man films. I don't remember which it is, and I don't want to spoil it by explaining what I do recall. Did you have a Walkman when you were a kid? No. What’s the most difficult experience you and a significant other have gone through together? Being long-distance when we really wanted each other's physical comfort. Have you ever attempted to pick a lock? Did you succeed? Yes, because Ashley locked her keys in the car. I don't remember if it worked, actually. Have you done the Bratz doll challenge for YouTube? No. I've seen a couple people do it, though, and it's both cool and creepy. Does the hospital in your town have a good reputation? NOOOOOOOOOOOO. What is your favorite nickname that you’ve had? "Bee" from Megan. Have you ever gotten a professional massage? No. I would be SO uncomfortable. If you had braces, do you wear your retainers still? No. :/ Well, the one you put in, anyone. I have a metal one behind the front row of my bottom teeth. If you had braces, have your teeth moved since you got them off? Yes. Do you know anyone personally who’s lost a child? I know way too many people who have suffered miscarriages. Do you take your medications regularly? Yes. What’s one luxury item you wish you could afford? An actually nice house. What’s your favorite thing to do in a swimming pool? Just kinda casually swim around. Have you ever been abused by a cop? No. What is one thing that you took to show-and-tell as a kid? My Snorlax plushy. Do you remember losing your first tooth? No. In the summer would you rather have the windows down or the A/C on in the car? I strongly prefer A/C. Have you ever been addicted to a game? What game? I had a long-time addiction to World of Warcraft for a couple years or so. I still play it now, but I'm not addicted to it anymore. As a matter of fact I get bored of it easily now. Which was better: the original The Lion King or the sequel? The original, but I love both very much. Do any of your grandparents have a tattoo? I don't know if any did. Do you believe that your pets feel love towards you? Roman, 120%. It is so obvious. Venus, no, as reptiles are literally incapable of experiencing that emotion. I do, however, know she trusts me. Are you proud of your body? FUCK no. Have you ever been rushed to the hospital in an ambulance? No. How do YOU believe the world & universe started? I don't know. I feel like MAYBE there is some sort of ultimate intelligence that formed the universe (maybe prompted the Big Bang, though I've always been dubious of that occurring naturally), but I don't think of this topic frequently at all. Does it really matter, after all? We're here, so just focus on that and live in the now. Have you ever stuck gum under a desk/chair? NO, that shit grosses me the hell out. When shopping at a grocery store, do you return your cart or just leave it? Return your fucking cart, please. It is NOT that difficult. What is one thing you’d never want your parents to find out? Certain places I've, uh, "done" things. When you were little, did you like Dr. Suess books? Yep. I seriously loved Green Eggs and Ham. What would you consider unforgivable? Rape is #1. Would you rather give your food to a homeless shelter or money to charity? Food to a homeless shelter, but I'd love to do both. What was your least favorite year of your life so far? 2016 was a fucking NIGHTMARE. Have you spent money on a game online? On one occasion, I asked if Mom would reactivate my WoW account, and when two expansions came out, I asked if she could buy them. I HATED asking. Thankfully, now, I'm rich enough in the game to pay for the "token" currency, which renews your subscription for a month, so I essentially play for free now. Have you been called a bad influence? Yes. Have any self-done piercings? Noooo. I only trust professionals. Ever pierced someone else? Again, no. Leave it to professionals, as well as someone without tremors. If you had a child with down’s syndrome, would you keep him/her? IF I wanted kids, of course I would. It really, REALLY bothers me when DS is the reason behind abortion. Mind you, I am pro-choice, but come on... Don't treat down's syndrome children as a curse. If someone tried to murder your child, do you think it would be wrong to expose them publicly and talk about it on social media? Of fucking course I would. I'd damn that person to hell myself. Is there a toxic person that you miss? I sometimes miss Colleen. Are you still contemplating going back to someone you shouldn’t? With Jason, yes. If he actually wanted me back (that will never happen, but anyway), I fear I'd say yes and probably would, realistically. When was the last time you had a new crush? When I realized I was bisexual. Do you want Jesus to come back soon? Back when I was a Christian, I was terrified of Judgment Day. I don't believe in it now. What is something you can’t wear because of your body type? I COULD wear whatever the hell I wanted, but I refuse to wear crop tops or strapless tops (or strapless bras). Oh, and thongs. No thanks. If you have curves, do you like them? I'm not curvy naturally, I'm just fat. Have you ever worn matching pajamas with someone? No, but that'd be cute. Has anyone ever mistaken you for being anorexic? No way. What fast food place do you avoid at all costs? Arby's, to name one. Are you afraid of deep sea creatures? Yes, especially giant squid. Have you ever agreed to purchase something on Ebay and got scammed somehow? Ugh, I got Ico THREE TIMES and they were ALL broken; they'd freeze in the first few minutes. Has anybody ever given you a promise ring? No. What is your favorite kind of cake? Red velvet. Honestly, have you ever eaten raw cookie dough? Yeah, multiple times. Were you outdoors or indoors more as a kid? I'd say it was a split down the middle. Have you ever had a relationship that began via text? Jason, Tyler, Juan, and Sara all began over text. Girt asked me out over Facebook Messenger. Do you think sloths are cute or ugly? They're cuties! What eyeshadow suits you best? I only wear black eyeshadow. Do you watch the show Wizards of Waverly Place? I did as a kid and really liked it. Have you ever been to the rainforest? No. I don't think I could handle the humidity, though I'd love to see all the beautiful wonders. Are you a member of any clubs? No. Would you shave your head with a friend who had cancer? If it was someone I was very close to and they were extremely self-conscious about it, I'd probably be willing to get very short hair, but I don't think I could handle no hair at all. How did you meet your pet? Roman was one of the kittens of Ashley's mother-in-law's cats. She has way too many cats and needed to get rid of the kittens, and I'd been wanting one like mad. I found Venus via the online reptile-selling hub called Morph Market, and I became VERY interested in the many, many ball python morphs, and when I saw her, I immediately knew that was my baby. Did/Do you have any PEZ dispensers? I did as a kiddo. What are some of the phrases in your personal ‘bingo’ card? "Mood," "can't relate," "hi, how are ya," "jinkies," "yikes," "oof," shit like that. Have you ever been through a trap door? No. Do/did you have to wear a uniform to your high school? No, only middle school. How many video games do you own? A whole lot. Have you ever visited a sex shop? No. Have you ever ridden a bicycle through a busy city? No, I'd be very scared to. Do you use Instagram? How often do you post there? I have two for my varying photography subjects. I post very rarely on both. Have you ever had a scary encounter with a wild animal? I have not.

[firelord-frowny]

I’ve talked a little bit about how at least one ~negative aspect~ of white supremacy/racism that impacts white people is that it can be SO DIFFICULT to avoid being Accidentally Racist over something that really shouldn’t have been that deep, and WOULDN’T have been that deep if not for the pervasiveness of white supremacy in america, and this bit about the lil country band Lady Antebellum and the controversy surrounding their name illustrates that pretty well, I think:

The band members have always said that the band's name was chosen arbitrarily, complaining about the difficulty of choosing a name. Inspired by the "country" style nostalgia of a photo shoot at a mansion from the Antebellum South, they said, "one of us said the word and we all kind of stopped and said, man, that could be a name"[40] and "Man that's a beautiful Antebellum house, and that's cool, maybe there's a haunted ghost or something in there like Lady Antebellum."[41] Haywood concluded, "[We] had a lady in the group, obviously, and threw Lady in the front of it for no reason. I wish we had a great resounding story to remember for the name, but it stuck ever since."[40] The name was always controversial, with a critic in Ms. Magazine writing in 2011 that the band's name "seems to me an example of the way we still — nearly 150 years after the end of the Civil War, nearly 50 years after the Civil Rights Act; and in a supposedly post-racial country led by a biracial president — glorify a culture that was based on the violent oppression of people of color".[41][42]

On June 11, 2020, joining widespread commercial response to the George Floyd protests,[41] the band announced it would abbreviate its name to its existing nickname "Lady A"[43] in an attempt to blunt the name's racist connotations.[1] The band members stated on social media that, never having previously sought the dictionary definition of the word "antebellum", they now consulted their "closest black friends and colleagues" so that their "eyes opened wide to the injustices, inequality and biases black women and men have always faced and continue to face every day. Now, blind spots we didn't even know existed have been revealed."[44] Fan response was mixed, with many decrying virtue signaling or even disparaging the protests.[41]American Songwriter said, "Given that the world knows what that A stands for, to many this change does little more than add extra insult to this ongoing injury."[45]

The next day, it was widely reported that the name "Lady A" had already been in use for more than 20 years by Seattle-based African American activist and blues, soul, funk, and gospel singer Anita White. The band again admitted ignorance of any prior use, which White called "pure privilege". Interviewed by Rolling Stone, White described the band's token acknowledgement of racism while blithely appropriating an African American artist's name: "They're using the name because of a Black Lives Matter incident that, for them, is just a moment in time. If it mattered, it would have mattered to them before. It shouldn't have taken George Floyd to die for them to realize that their name had a slave reference to it. It's an opportunity for them to pretend they're not racist". A veteran music industry lawyer observed that such name clashes are uncommon due to the existence of the Internet.[46][47] The band members contacted White the next week to apologize for having inadvertently co-opted and dominated her name,[48] saying that the Black Lives Matter movement had inspired them to a collaborative attitude. They nonetheless required retaining the same name, though she believed dual-naming is inherently impossible.[49]She said "We talked about attempting to co-exist but didn't discuss what that would look like"[48] because the band members would not directly respond to that explicit question three times during the conversation or in two contract drafts. She soon submitted a counteroffer that either the band would be renamed, or that her act would be renamed for a $5 million fee plus a $5 million donation to be split between Seattle charities, a nationwide legal defense fund for independent artists, and Black Lives Matter.[49]

On July 8, 2020, the band filed a lawsuit against White, asking a Nashville court to affirm its longstanding trademark of the name. The press release read: "Today we are sad to share that our sincere hope to join together with Anita White in unity and common purpose has ended. She and her team have demanded a $10 million payment, so reluctantly we have come to the conclusion that we need to ask a court to affirm our right to continue to use the name Lady A, a trademark we have held for many years."[50]

On September 15, 2020, White filed a counter-suit asserting her claim to the Lady A trademark and rejecting the notion that both artists could operate in the same industry under the same brand identity. She is seeking damages for lost sales and a weakened brand, along with royalties from any income the band receives under the Lady A moniker.[51][52]

Like????????? this REALLY didn’t need to be a thing. 

And one thing I think black folks and other poc need to chill out with is dismissing any white person’s attempt at Being Better in how they move through a white supremacist world in a way that seeks to undo or at least not exacerbate white supremacy. I can TOTALLY believe that, in their white ignorant bliss, this band really did choose their name without realizing for a moment that it might leave a fucked up taste in some people’s mouths. Honestly like... antebellum IS a cool sounding word lmfao and if it wasn’t so heavily associated with slavery-era america, i’d wanna name something antebellum, too! 

And like, yes, it’s true that it ~shouldn’t have taken george floyd’s death~ for anyone at all to suddenly decide that they want to go a little bit out of their way to denounce or at least not seem to promote racism in some small way. But it did. And it does. And every fucking time there’s a gross act of violence and injustice acted out on a person of color in front of the world, there’s always going to be a brand new white person out there who Sees The Light for the very first time. That doesn’t mean their new perspective isn’t genuine, and it doesn’t mean it happened All Of A Sudden. If anything, it was something they’d been thinking about for a long time, but didn’t know how to address it, or what to say, or who to say it to, or how to talk about it in their own community. OBVIOUSLY that problem is WAY LESS BAD than, ya know, actually experiencing racism, but it’s still a real thing that some white folks go through, and being mad about it isn’t going to make it NOT a real thing. it shouldn’t have taken george floyd’s death. it shouldn’t have taken trayvon martin’s death. it shouldn’t have taken the instatement of one of the most vile human beings to ever assault the face of the earth for This Person or That Person to finally want to make a positive and public change, BUT IT DID. It always does. That, unfortunately, is How It Works. 

And so, this band adjusts it’s name in an effort to not seem hostile. OBVIOUSLY it’s not a grand show of solidarity. OBVIOUSLY it’s not meant to convince anyone that they’re Super Amazing White People Who Will Stop At Nothing For Racial Equality. It was literally just a small, simple gesture. They’re just modifying their image, because they were no longer comfortable with knowing how that word makes a lot of people feel. Bc like... let’s be real: probably a solid ZERO of their fanbase would have given a shit if they’d just left the name as it was. Nobody who’s going to a Lady Antebellum concert was pouting about the name. And if anything, they prolly stood a better chance of LOSING fans for ~being politically correct~ than gaining fans for changing their name to something less annoying. 

And it JUST SO HAPPENS that the slight lil adjustment they made to their name steps on the toes of an existing artist, and it JUST SO HAPPENS that this artist is black, and is also an ACTIVIST in social and racial justice. 

Oops. 

And so, obviously people don’t interpret it as an honest mistake. Instead, it’s a result of white privilege. And I mean like??? ok, maybe it is. But I ALSO had never heard of Anita White until I read this fucking wiki page lmfao. So like... my ignorance isn’t due to no white privilege on my part. Maybe it’s a consequence of a white supremacist culture that wouldn’t glorify her and celebrate her and put her name everywhere... but that’s a different thing from privilege. 

So now not only are the bands efforts to adjust to a world that’s becoming more aware of racial injustice being dismissed as disingenuous or too-little-too-late, but now they’re ALSO being accused of Using Their White Privilege to trample all over an artist they’d never heard of. 

i DO think that after finding out the name was already taken, and after talking with her about it and determining that she wasn’t interested in sharing - as is her right - they should have just said “ok, sorry, thanks for talking with us about it” and picked something different. i think it’s kinda ridiculous that they think they should sue her and i think she’s HELLA right for suing their asses right back, and I hope she gets her damn money. 

But I’m also cognizant of how emotionally/psychologically upsetting it can feel to have to just Change Your Name after so many years of living with it. It makes sense that despite their desire to adapt and choose a new name that doesn’t make people cringe, they still want to try to hold on to the feeling that THEY associated with their own name. “Lady A” seemed like a happy medium: They can remain Who They Are while also showing that Who They Are is someone who’s not trying to glorify a disgusting era of history. But if “Lady A” isn’t an option... what’s left? What else could they call themselves that wouldn’t feel like a totally new, alien identity?? 

So, I understand how, on an emotional level, they want to fight to keep it. 

But uh. They really need to just Be Sad about it and let it go. Just consider it one of the small, upsetting sacrifices that white folks may sometimes have to make as we ALL struggle and stumble through this fuckin long-ass road of Making The World Less Terrible For People Of Color, and move on. 

But yeah, like. 

It’s fucking ridiculous that this was even an issue, and it was only an issue because of racism!!!!! If white supremacists didn’t manufacture a culture that oppresses people of color and glorifies the pre-civil-war era SPECIFICALLY for the good ol slavery, then perhaps people could wax poetic about the artistic and environmental aesthetic of that era without it being assumed that they Must Be Racist. Bc like??? idk if yall know this lmfao but i LOVE????? colonial american music. like, the kind of stuff with that Ashokan Farewell vibe. I think it sounds beautiful. And i really fuckin love the black spiritual music that was developed in that time. and i think so much of the architecture and fashion was so???? Nice. Just pleasant! But I can’t even get myself to fully enjoy it because of all the fuckin connotations that have been stuck to it. 

A band should be able to name theirself a name without it being such a goddamn fucking cultural crisis. 

But they can’t! And it is! 

Thanks, White Supremacy!