#or even considered at all... from the perspective of the person pitying. If he makes a comparison involvjng himself then I think the pity

[gakupo7]

What is the nature of pity?

[steddieas-shegoes]

you and all of your new perspective

for @steddiesongfics using 'new perspective' by noah kahan

also on ao3

rated m | 3,513 words | no cw | tags: rock star eddie munson, good uncle wayne munson, mutual pining, yearning, post-vecna, love confessions, idiots in love, first kiss, implied sexual content, getting together

🤘🏻🤘🏻🤘🏻🤘🏻🤘🏻🤘🏻🤘🏻🤘🏻🤘🏻🤘🏻🤘🏻

He’s looking down at the letter and wondering how the hell he’s supposed to be normal about Eddie visiting him.

In Hawkins.

Where Eddie swore he’d never come back to the moment he got his ticket out of here.

“Starin’ at it ain’t gonna make him not come,” Wayne says from across the counter. “Surprised he didn’t call ya to tell ya.”

“He…he left a few messages,” Steve explains, setting the letter down and resting his face in his hands. “I just figured he wouldn’t come if I didn’t call him back.”

Wayne raises a brow, gives him a look that Steve’s perfectly familiar with by now. Four years of weekly dinners with a man that’s well aware of your feelings for his nephew leads to some knowing looks and light teasing.

“Only reason he’d ever step foot in this town again is for you and you know that,” Wayne says as he opens another beer. He has three every Friday night, but no longer indulges during the week. Ain’t so young anymore, son, and I gotta stay active to keep up with all your chores, he’d told Steve when he asked. Steve thinks the doctor told him to take it easier. “I don’t think he even told the kids.”

“Don’t see why he would. They’re all over. He’s probably seen them on tour.”

Steve tries not to sound bitter. He woke up in his own bed or whatever the saying is. He can’t blame Eddie for doing exactly what he said he would, following his dreams, getting the hell out of Hawkins the moment he could. The kids did the same, but at least they visited.

“Well, they’ve been houndin’ him to come visit you.”

Steve lifts his head. “They what?”

“They just worry ‘bout ya,” Wayne shrugs. “So do I.”

“I went on a date last week! Robin visited two months ago! I see you every Friday!” Steve stands and starts pacing. “I’m gonna go visit Dustin at school in a month. And Will has his freshman exhibition that we’re all trying to meet up at. It’s not like I’m lonely.”

“Son, I think the only person lonelier than you is Eddie,” Wayne gives him that sad smile he gives whenever they talk about Steve’s social life. It’s like he knows it’s pitiful, and he knows Steve knows it’s pitiful, and he’s making sure Steve knows that he knows. “And he’s stubborn as a mule, but he cares too much about ya to let you suffer.”

“Who said anything about suffering?”

“It’s implied by the way the kids talk about you.”

“How’s that?”

“The word hermit has been used a bunch,” Wayne explains. “Now, I’m gonna finish this beer and you’re gonna stop workin’ yourself up over something that’s still days away.”

Steve rushes over to his calendar, holding up the letter, then checking the calendar.

“He’s gonna be here in three days!” Steve yells. “I can’t be ready by then!”

“What the hell do you need to be ready for? It’s just Eddie,” Wayne is smirking again and Steve’s tired of his teasing, but he’s not gonna say anything because it doesn’t do any good to draw more attention to it. “He ain’t expecting a welcome committee. Maybe a balloon or somethin’; You know he likes the show of it all.”

Steve groans.

He does know. Eddie loves dramatics, that’s what makes him such a good performer on stage. That’s what makes him a great DM.

That’s what made Steve fall in love with him.

“I don’t even know where to get balloons,” Steve says, resting his forehead against the wall.

“The new Wal-Mart should have some,” Wayne pats his shoulder. “We watchin’ the game or standing around havin’ a crisis in your kitchen?”

Steve breathes in. He breathes out.

“I’ll have a crisis tomorrow, I guess.”

“That’s my boy!”

++++

The crisis does come the next day, but this time Wayne isn’t there to make it worse or better. He considers calling Robin, but he knows she’ll just tell him to use his good cologne and try not to be weird. He even thinks about calling Dustin, but immediately shuts that down when he remembers that Dustin is the one who called him a hermit to Eddie’s face.

He finds balloons at the store, and adds streamers to the cart on a whim. He’s sure Eddie will love it. Eddie loves that kind of shit.

He also grabs a pie crust and apples because he remembers Eddie saying how much he loves apple pie with vanilla ice cream one time nearly five years ago.

Okay, maybe it’ll be weird that he remembered that.

He goes to put the apples back when Joyce bumps into him as she’s reaching for a bunch of bananas.

“Sorry honey!” She throws her hands out to catch him, even though she’s the one who almost falls. “I wasn’t paying attention. You doing okay?”

“Yeah, how’re you?” Steve gives her a small smile, trying not to show how panicked he is.

“Sweetie, you look stressed. Is something wrong?”

“No! No, just preparing for a guest,” Steve says, unsure if Eddie’s told anyone else in Hawkins he would be visiting and not wanting to ruin any surprises if he intended on doing that.

He doesn’t even know how long Eddie’s staying; He didn’t say in his letter or voicemails. Wayne hasn’t mentioned it either, which means he probably knows exactly how long he’s staying.

“Oh, is Eddie staying with you?” She asks, brows furrowing. “I assumed he was staying with Wayne. I helped him find an apple pie recipe for his visit.”

Steve looks down at the ingredients in the cart, the evidence of what he’s going to make even more obvious now. Joyce’s gaze follows his and she bites back a knowing smile.

“Ah.”

“Ah?” He asks.

“Uh huh,” she says, nodding. “I would make sure to get the green apples. He likes sour more than sweet when there’s ice cream.”

Steve looks over at the green apples and back at the red apples he was planning on buying. Joyce winks at him before she grabs the bananas and starts to walk away.

“Enjoy the visit!”

Steve doesn’t respond.

He grabs six green apples and shoves them in a plastic produce bag.

He’ll make the damn apple pie and Eddie will love it. Steve will pretend the apple pie isn’t filled with the love he can barely contain for the man, and maybe Eddie will enjoy it and leave as if he never came.

Maybe Steve can make it through this visit with dignity.

****

Eddie shows up at three in the afternoon on a Wednesday. Technically, it’s 3:03, but Steve wasn’t watching the clock or anything. That would be ridiculous.

He looks just like he always did, just like Steve expected. He’s smiling, and playing with the ends of his curls. Steve is never gonna make it through this visit with dignity.

“Stevie!” Eddie rushes in for a hug, and it should be more awkward than it is. Eddie didn’t exactly leave on the best of terms with Steve. They really only spoke a handful of times over the last few years, and most of those were forced by Wayne or Dustin. But it’s like he never left, like he’s been hugging Steve every day for years.

Steve soaks it up, falls into it and doesn’t care how it looks. If Eddie has a problem with it, he doesn’t say so. He holds Steve tighter, his breath warm against his neck.

Eventually, Steve invites him inside and it does start to feel awkward.

Eddie’s a rock star now, and despite how normal he looks, he’s different. He’s here to see Steve, but is he here out of guilt that it took him this long to visit or because he actually wants to?

Steve talks about work, and his dinners with Wayne, and spends more time than he should explaining Robin’s degree program even though he knows Robin already talked to Eddie when she got accepted. He goes on and on about what everyone else is up to because his life is pretty boring in comparison and he doesn’t want to bore Eddie away.

“Sounds like everyone’s doing good, but I already knew that,” Eddie eventually says when Steve’s rambled for much longer than he planned. “How are you?”

“I told you, I’m fine,” Steve says. “Kinda boring around here, honestly. How’s the tour been?”

Eddie laughs and Steve tries not to let it hurt. He doesn’t think he means it in the way Steve’s taking it and that’s a Steve problem, not an Eddie problem.

“I called you 37 times,” Eddie says instead of answering him. “Every city we had a show. The first few I figured you were just busy or asleep. I didn’t think about time zones. But then I started to realize you were avoiding me.”

He isn’t mad, or at least he doesn’t look mad, but Steve feels like he needs to apologize anyway.

“Yeah, sorry. After a while, it kinda…”

“Seemed worse to call since it was so long?” Eddie asks, small smile falling from his face when Steve nods. “It’s never a bad thing to hear from friends, though. You could’ve called the bus phone anytime. Left a message. We got an answering machine because Gareth’s mom always calls when we’re on stage.”

“Right. Good to know,” Steve says. Which, it is good to know, but he doesn’t plan on calling unless there’s an emergency. He can’t look as desperate as he feels and if he calls once, he’ll call twice, and then a hundred times. “What city was your favorite so far?”

Eddie tilts his head, looks him over for a moment before responding. “I liked Boston. All the kids were front row. Except El, she somehow got backstage. Still not sure how. Missed you, though.”

Steve feels his face heat up at the words. Eddie always said things in a flirty way, even though he doesn’t really mean it that way. Steve can’t let himself think that he means it that way.

“It’s a pretty big trip, so. I couldn’t miss work.”

It’s a shit excuse because he absolutely could miss work. It’s a grocery store in a small town, and he doesn’t care that much about it.

“They couldn’t find someone to cover a couple days for you?” Eddie sounds hurt now, and Steve can’t let him think that he’s the problem.

“I didn’t ask. I-” Steve has to be brave now. Wayne’s voice is in his head telling him to just tell Eddie why he’s been so distant, why he hasn’t been the one to reach out. “I was scared to go.”

This seems to throw Eddie off balance. His eyes squint and forehead wrinkles adorably as he tries to do mental gymnastics to find out why Steve of all people would be scared to visit him. Steve is known for throwing himself in the line of fire, being the first one to step in when everyone else is scared. Too bad this type of courage is different.

“Are you scared of flying? I didn’t know, maybe we could have figured out a hired car.”

“No, I don’t mind flying,” Steve admits.

“Then…why were you scared?”

“Because if I let you in, you’ll see how much I miss you and if you see how much I miss you, you’ll see how much I love you. And then you’d never wanna have me around and it would be just like everyone else I love who leaves because I’m not enough to keep them around,” Steve lays his head back against the couch. The Wayne voice in his head is suspiciously quiet.

So is Eddie.

Steve isn’t going to talk anymore; He’s said enough.

Eddie’s hand covers Steve’s. It’s warm and surprisingly soft, and bigger than Steve’s. He never realized that before, not even when he held his hand while he was in the hospital after Vecna or when he watched him play guitar for hours while he was trying to gain his confidence back.

“People don’t leave because you aren’t enough, Steve. They leave because the world is big and they want to be a part of it. Everyone wants you to do that, too,” Eddie says softly, carefully. “I think most of the kids hoped you’d leave Hawkins once they did. Dustin thought you’d come on tour with me.”

“Why would he think that?” Steve doesn’t remember ever having a conversation with Dustin that would make him think that, but his memory isn’t the best.

Eddie’s lips curl up into a smile and he leans forward.

“You know you’re incredibly obvious, right?” Eddie whispers even though they’re alone and there’s no need to be quiet. “You’ve always been easy to read.”

“What does that mean? Read what?”

“You wear your heart on your sleeve and it’s been right there with Eddie written across it since I was in the hospital, sweetheart.” Eddie points to Steve’s arm. He looks down as if he would be able to see the heart Eddie’s talking about. “You’re an open book.”

The timer in the kitchen goes off and Steve jumps up. He rushes to the oven, grateful for the distraction.

“Is that apple pie?” Eddie asks from a few feet away. Steve really should’ve known he would follow him.

“Yes, it’s gotta be perfect.”

“You made apple pie for me?”

Eddie’s right behind him now, and when he turns, there’s no space between them at all. Steve smells the airport on him, the rental car, the cologne he’s worn since Steve bought it for him before he left Hawkins.

He looks up and sees the years that have passed in smile lines on Eddie’s face, in a single gray hair that Eddie’s probably keeping because it makes him look cool. Steve hasn’t found any gray hairs yet, but he’s only 25. Eddie always said Wayne went completely gray by 30, so his genetics wouldn’t be as kind to him. Steve kinda hopes he’s right. Eddie would be beautiful with gray curls.

“Just like I said: heart on your sleeve,” Eddie whispers, leaning in until his lips are just barely brushing against Steve’s.

He’s waiting for Steve, to see if he’ll finally give in after years of near-silence, after whatever flirty and semi-codependent friendship they had before Eddie left to be a rock star.

Steve’s spent enough time waiting, and he thinks Eddie probably has, too.

His lips press against Eddie’s, sure of their movements despite the anxiety crawling through his chest and the unfamiliar taste of him on his tongue.

It’s full of hunger even though it only lasts a few seconds. Steve’s wanted this, wanted him, for so long, he puts everything he has into this moment. If it’s all he gets, he wants it to be perfect.

“You’re kissing me like you’re sending me off to war,” Eddie says when they’ve caught their breath.

“Feels like I am,” Steve admits, corner of his mouth turning up in a sad smile. “At least a little.”

“I think the odds of me dying on stage are probably extremely slim,” Eddie laughs. Steve doesn’t laugh with him. “Steve? What’s wrong?”

Steve pulls himself away, ignoring the way his chest aches at the separation. He’ll have to get used to that when Eddie leaves.

“You have a whole new life. You’re a rock star, Ed. I can’t force my feelings on you now.”

“Who said you forced anything on me?”

“I made you apple pie!” Steve exclaims, pulling away so he can breathe again. Having Eddie in his space alters his brain chemistry, maybe his DNA. “I bought all your favorite things so I could try to convince you I’m worth staying for, even though I can’t compare to going on a world tour with your band. I cleaned out the guest room and made sure I put your favorite shampoo in the shower as if you would even notice that. As if it would be enough to keep you around.”

Eddie steps closer, but Steve steps back.

“Your life is different now. It’s good. I wouldn’t add anything to it, and I don’t know why I even tried to make it seem like I would.”

Eddie steps closer, and there’s nowhere for Steve to go. He’s boxed in against the counter, and Eddie’s face is red with anger. He’s not scared– he could never be scared of Eddie– but he does swallow around a lump in his throat and try to take a deep breath to calm his racing heart.

“My life is different now, you’re right about that. My life doesn’t even feel like mine most days. I belong to fans, and the guys, and the record label. But you know what does feel like mine?” Eddie leans in close enough that his breath is hot against Steve’s face. “How much I love you. How much I have always loved you. You’ve always felt like mine, Steve.”

It’s a hell of a confession, and definitely not what Steve expected from this visit.

The Wayne voice in his head decides to speak again. Except this time, it’s something he’s said to Steve in person before.

He’s surrounded by people, but he seems pretty lonely. Kinda like he still needs a certain someone.

Steve’s brows crinkle as he thinks about the words Wayne said after a phone call with Eddie during the first part of his first tour nearly two years ago. The words were accompanied by a look that Steve has since come to recognize as his sad puppy look.

The same one Eddie’s giving him now.

Steve can’t help it; He laughs.

“You and Wayne could bottle that look and sell it to people who need someone to feel bad for ‘em,” Steve says. He cups Eddie’s cheek in his palm, rubs his thumb against the angry red that turns into a flushed pink. “I don’t know how you could love me-”

“Steve-”

“But!” Steve interrupts. “I know you wouldn’t have said it if you didn’t mean it. And you wouldn’t be here if you didn’t want to be. If you didn’t care, you wouldn’t have taken the time to come back here at all, let alone stay with me. I won’t understand it, but I’ll believe it.”

“That was easier than Wayne said it would be,” Eddie’s smile grows slowly, lighting up his face and the room.

“He’s been buttering me up for years,” Steve shrugs.

“Doing all the hard work, more like,” Eddie leans forward, rests his forehead against Steve’s. “He must’ve been sick of hearing me yearn for your love.”

Steve rolls his eyes. “You know, you could have come back sooner. You didn’t have to wait until I was convinced I’d be alone forever.”

“And you could have called me to let me know I could visit sooner.” Eddie pokes the tip of his nose with his finger, smirking as he leans away to look back at the apple pie on the oven. “Especially if I could’ve been having apple pie on every break.”

“It might not even be good,” Steve says as he wraps his arms around Eddie’s waist.

“Is there vanilla ice cream?” Eddie pecks his lips.

“Mhm,” Steve kisses his cheek. “And you can have some if you promise to sit down and tell me everything about the band.”

“You wanna waste time hearing about Gareth drooling over every woman who looks his way? We could be making love on the couch.”

Steve raises a brow. “We won’t be making love anywhere but my bed. And it won’t be until we’ve talked more.”

“Fiiiine,” Eddie rolls his eyes, but grabs for the pie cutter on the counter. “Cut me a piece of pie and I’ll do my best to resist taking all your clothes off.”

“I never said you couldn’t do that,” Steve grabs the pie cutter.

“So I can take your clothes off?”

“Shirt only. And after pie…we’ll talk.”

“I thought after pie we’d be done talking.”

“How long are you staying?” Steve asks as he puts the slice of pie onto the plate and hands it to Eddie.

“Four days.”

Steve tilts his head side to side, considering what he can accomplish in four days.

In any other situation, he might be worried about how quickly he throws off his shirt. In any other situation, he would probably insist on talking to Robin before throwing his heart on the plate next to the scoop of ice cream Eddie just put next to his steaming slice of pie. In any other situation, he would take things slow and get to know rock star Eddie who left Hawkins to be someone.

But he’s finding that he’s okay with speed-running things.

He’s got a new perspective on Eddie’s visit, and maybe a new perspective on what their future will look like.

Steve drops his pants. Eddie’s eyes widen.

“Eat your pie. We’ll talk while we make love on the couch.”

[cinnamonest]

how about delinquent childe x student reader…

BULLY AJAX BULLY AJAX

Literally the textbook example of “he's mean to you because he likes you and doesn't know how to express it!” thing.

From your perspective as another student in your small little town, you know he's a bad kid because of his notoriety with the school's parents. Each tells their kids to stay away from that boy, that no good will come from associating with him. You hear your parents mumble about how much they either pity his parents, how hard it must be having such a problem child, or chastising them, playing armchair psychologist as they theorize how a kid can turn out like that and wagering that it must be the parents’ fault somehow.

He ticks all the boxes that sets stricter parents into a frenzy — a history of arrests, smoking and drinking and skipping classes and failing grades. They all say they've seen that boy going double the speed limit on the rural roads, stealing alcohol from local stores, and how he put so-and-so who lives down the road's boy in the hospital, and gave so-and-so from church's boy a black eye and a broken leg, and how that teacher he attacked in eighth grade got a concussion so bad he's never been quite the same since.

But you know how awful he is firsthand, anyway. For whatever reason, unfortunately, you're picked to be his favorite victim. With other kids, it's all casual and opportunistic, getting into fights and finding amusement in tormenting others when he's bored and an opportunity comes, but for you, he goes out of his way to make your school life suck, from the time you're kids.

It's not until someone says it — maybe he just likes you, you know? — that you consider it… but even so, it reaches a point where you find it difficult to believe, and regardless, you don't care, you've come to hate him regardless of motive.

It's not like he's someone you'd date anyway, seeing as he's… well, not a good person. You like to think you have some strict standards of caliber of personal character.

The only thing that gives credibility to the theory that he's being affectionate is just how constant it is. Normally, bullying is largely opportunistic — they take opportunities when they arise, but it's not as common for bullies to go out of their way to find their victims, or if they do, not often.

Ajax, on the other hand, is a perpetual menace — to you, at least, even if his behavior towards other people mimics the pattern of normal bullying. But with you, it feels like every waking second of your life, he's dedicated to coming to find you and torture you.

Then there's the nature of the bullying — when you were little, it was tugging on your hair, tearing apart erasers and throwing the little bits at you from across a room.

The older you get, the more sensual it gets — groping you when he passes you in the halls, grabbing your tits and ass and then running off before you can do anything, snickering all the while. Crude gestures directed at you just to see you squirm. A few terrible drawings and scribbles depicting you naked and lewd passed over to you disguised as a note signed by a friend, to which you open with multiple people looking over your shoulder… only to crumple the thing and throw it away, trying not to give him the reaction he wants, but he's always smiling in amusement anyway.

The teachers are aware and have acted accordingly — they ensure you're never close to him in seating arrangements, never assign you two together for projects. But all their efforts mean little when he's still seeking you out. He finds you at lunch, in study hall, after school, on any sort of special field day, at sports games, just to torment you with teasing and taunting and touchiness, stealing your things, embarrassing you in front of others.

But at the same time, well, you can't help but notice that part of the reason is because he's friendless, his nature has made everyone dislike him, even the other bully kids. He doesn't hang out with the other “bad kids,” because the “bad kids” have a sense of respect for each other, bully only outsiders, whereas he can't help but be a menace to everyone, so any social group he attempts to enter loses cohesion when he messes with everyone. He's long since been driven away from any social circle, even other problem kids and bullies. You're his victim, but you're also the only person he really talks to.

You suppose you feel a little bad for him, but it doesn't come close to justifying making you miserable. Nor can you forgive him for ruining your clothes — you've long since noticed, to your dismay, that he's around you so much that the cigarette and alcohol smells that permeate off of him, have transferred to your own clothes, if not outright have smoke blown on them... not to mention little burn marks on your skirts where he puts them out on the fabric when you're not looking. As if some sort of cruel punishment, that you have to be constantly reminded of him even at home.

Bully Ajax who gets pushed over the edge when some new kid arrives at school and starts talking to his…

…Well, his something. Maybe not a girlfriend — you have to have slept together to truly be that, right? — but still his, some way, somehow. Everyone knows that. That's why everyone else leaves you alone.

It catches him totally off-guard — he goes to the classroom where you normally eat lunch (you've migrated there over time since everyone avoids you because of him anyway, and even if you sit alone in the cafeteria, he'll find a way to publicly embarrass you, so enduring secluded torment is easier), and lo and behold, he stops in his tracks, nearly tripping over his own feet at the sudden pure bewilderment of seeing you with someone else.

He's frozen stiff, mind blank and halted in thought like a computer error screen, trying to process, eye twitching as he watches from a distance.

Some boy that just strutted right into this school and thinks he has the right to go talking to you, sitting with you? Some guy he doesn't know?

Why are you smiling like that? Why are you laughing at whatever he just said? What did he say to you?

It's immediate, all-consuming, blind rage. A cold, bitter feeling that spreads from his throat to his chest all throughout his body, that makes him clench his jaw and kick at the ground all the way home. No point in staying the rest of the day, not when he has walls to punch and pillows to tear apart and plenty of seething to do.

And you, you're so enamored and happy with this new guy that you barely notice the absence of your biggest menace over the next few days. You're in too much bliss to notice him sitting in the back of your classes, bitterly glaring at you, hands curled into fists. Too focused on your new boyfriend (who does ask you out as such, and everyone — everyone — quickly learns about the status between the two of you) to notice you're both being followed wherever you go.

He knows where you live. Small town and all. He knows when your parents are gone. He knows when you're home alone.

Ajax is not the brightest bulb in the box. Not one to think of complex solutions. He tends to just do things very straightforward, to simply act in the most direct way possible. Combined with his total lack of impulse control, this makes for a ticking time bomb on a very short fuse, an explosion waiting to happen.

He can settle the matter with the only thing he's really good at — violence.

He's not sneaky about it either, actually quite upfront. You don't even notice the car pull into the driveway, just jolt at the sudden banging on your front door, and go still in bewilderment when you swing it open to find him of all people standing there. He doesn't give you an opportunity to say much of anything before grabbing you by the throat and shoving his way inside, dragging you through your own house as you gag and choke and flail, throwing you down on your own bed, holding you down with brutal force.

He's always been the sort of bully to find amusement in your torture — always smiling and laughing. You've never seen him genuinely angry like this. You whimper and try to push him back, but it only makes his fingers curl against your chest even harder.

He's already got the aftermath images of your boyfriend to show you. Unconscious and beaten to a bloody pulp, so swollen and disfigured he's nearly unrecognizable, red and purple all over his face, laying in a ditch somewhere.

Why are you crying? You haven't known that guy for very long at all. Not as long as you've known him. You've known him longer, he was there first, you should care more about him, you should know better than to talk to someone other than him — he treats it as a transgression, that you've betrayed him, done him some great wrong.

Which, you have, to him. Here he's invested so much time into you, and you stab him in the back like this? All that time, effort, and affection he's put into you, it's socially understood to be proclaiming you're his. Everyone else clearly understood that. You've violated a social contract of sorts, one that clearly says that he had laid claim to you, that you're his.

And you probably slept with that guy too, didn't you? Why aren't you answering? Did you? Did you? No, it's not “none of his business,” as you spit back at him, it is his business, it's you, and you're his and so anything you do is his right to know. If you don't answer, he'll choke you out until you do. But he knows you did, so even if you say you didn't, he'll just do the same until you confirm the answer he knows is true.

So you did. Let someone else get to you before him. Slept with someone that isn't him when you knew full well he wanted to.

You're lucky I don't fucking kill you.

That's what he says into your ear, when he's ramming into you so hard your headboard keeps slamming into the wall, fingernails digging into your flesh. That he was there first. That he loved you first. That you had no right. That you're a whore and a little bitch and you knew exactly what you were doing — yes you did, you fucking knew, don't lie to me — by cheating on him with some loser, and that if he didn't love you so much, if he wasn't so merciful, he would kill you for this.

You probably did it on purpose. You wanted to get back at him for that really bad thing he did to you a while back, maybe, or maybe that other really bad thing he did another time. You wanted to make him mad.

Maybe you wanted this, even. Wanted him to do this to you. Yeah, that's the theory that makes the most sense to him.

Right. You wanted to be “official” or whatever it's called when people are publicly together, which of course means they've slept together. Everyone already knew you were his, but you wanted to take things further. You just have such an indirect way of doing things. You know, you could have just invited him to come sleep with you. But you have to do everything in such convoluted, needlessly indirect ways. Girls are so frustrating sometimes.

Regardless, this is what it takes to get you to acknowledge what you both know to be true — that he's always owned you, really, you know that, everyone knows. Once you wake up, he'll have to go over rules with you from now on about not talking to other guys. Of course, now that you're all passed out, he'll wait in bed for you to wake up, because he's a good boyfriend. He'll just smoke to pass the time... you won't mind a some ashes in your bedsheets. Probably.

Now he'll just have to stay by your side even more, ensure you don't get the chance to act on your urges ever again, since you seem to have trouble with impulse control. He’ll be sure to preemptively beat any new male students half to death as soon as they set foot on campus and tell them to stay away from you. You know, precautionary measures.

[pnutbutter-n-j-elyy]

Chan x Fem!Reader

Warnings: Mentions of Suicide, Death, Grief, Slight Age Gap, Life after loss, Cursing, Angst, Blood, Brother's Friend, Manic Behavior, Depression, Panic Attacks.

Word Count:

If you or someone you know is suffering from suicidal ideation or thoughts of harming themselves, please reach out for help. You never know when someone's last day will be; no one ever does. But if you can help - even just a tiny bit, sometimes a word, text, or even a call can be a catalyst for positive change.

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pt1 Part Two

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You sat alone in your dimly lit room, the silence almost palpable. Your parents were away for the night. As they had been the last few nights.

You didn't blame them at all. It was hard being in, let alone living in a house that carried so much weight now. It was only a matter of time before your parents would move away. Taking you along with them, as you were still young. Just barely 21 yourself.

The only light came from the desk lamp, casting a soft glow over the envelope in your hands. It was marked with the words "Read when you're lonely," and the familiarity of your brother's handwriting stirred up a mix of emotions. You carefully peeled open the envelope, feeling the weight of the moment.

This was the first letter you were opening. It only seemed right, since you were feeling lonely.

Extremely.

As you unfolded the letter, a rush of memories flooded your mind—the way Hajun used to write letters when he had first left home, the warmth you felt when opening them, and the excitement of the thought of another one coming soon. The endless support he gave you in those letters.

A testament to the strength your relationship. You took a deep breath, your eyes scanning the neatly written words on the page:

I'm sorry I’m no longer there to give you a hug when you need one or to share in the laughter and tears of everyday life. I wish more than anything to be there with you, to tell you that everything will be alright and to remind you that you’re never truly alone.

I know this time is incredibly hard, and I can only imagine the weight you’re carrying. It was selfish of me to inflict this on you, but I hope you understand. You've always been understanding. And I hope you can be understanding now.

But I need you to remember that even though I’m not physically with you, you still have remnants of me everywhere. Whenever you feel overwhelmed or lonely, reach out to those who care about you, even if it’s difficult. I hope they can help begin to fill that void.

There’s someone I want you to contact if you ever find yourself feeling lost or isolated. His name is Christopher. He’s one of my closest friends, and he knows what it means to be there for someone who’s hurting. It's been a while since I've talked to him, but I trust him completely, and I believe he’ll offer you the support you need.

If anything, he'll do it out of pity. But he'll be a person in times of loneliness that you can look too.

Sometimes, a change in environment can help bring a fresh perspective and new beginnings. Knowing you, you'll want a change of pace. Something to get away from me. Consider moving to Korea. It’s a big step, but it could be an opportunity for you to heal and find new joys. And there are people there that I believe can help you begin to heal. I know it’s not an easy decision, but I want you to be open to the possibility of finding happiness, even if it means making a major change.

I hope these words bring you some comfort and help you find the strength to face each day. Know that my love is always with you, even if I’m not, Gremlin.

Hajun

You sat there for a moment, letting your eyes burn slightly. You looked at you clock and saw the time.

3:07 a.m.

You wondered if Chris was busy at the moment. You found yourself opening up Instagram.

You hadn't opened it up since Hajun left.

Left. It was easier to think of it like that.

You didn't want to scroll through the countless amount of edits you knew had been made. Juju had always been the favorite of the group. Rightly so, because even though you were prejudiced it was easy to see just how amazing your brother was. And it made sense that others would see that as well.

You didn't watch through any of the edits fully. But it was the first thing that popped up on your screen. With some corny ass pop song playing in the background that made you grit your teeth.

They acted as if they knew him.

We'll miss our Junebug.

You swallowed the bike that had risen in your throat.

Our?

They didn't know him. They couldn't have been going through the pain you were going through.

The anger you felt made you want to become a key board warrior. To respond to every comment and call them out on the utter bullshit.

The comments saying that "no one understands how hurt I was when I found out" or "it hurts as his number one fan" or "no one knows pain like this".

The comments with immense parasocial vibes made you sick to your stomach, and you clutched your phone as you scrolled through countless girls and guys who commented on how heartbroken they were of their husband being gone.

You had gone through that phase, it was normal even, something common in the fandoms. But at times like this it left a sour taste in your mouth. And you couldn't sit one moment to and try to empathize with them; even if you knew that sometimes people you looked up to, admired even- felt closer than those you could reach out and touch; those whose embraces were tangible.

You felt like reporting each and everyone, screaming at them.

They never knew him.

At least not like you did, not like your mom did. Your dad. His friends.

And to those who had "stumbled" across your account after doing enough research on your brother it was nearly a full on doxxing; and then spread your information- had sent you a plethora of messages that you didn't open up. You'd let them sit in your requests until the day that you went to meet your brother once more.

You went to the search bar and typed in the reason you had come to the social site to begin with.

Christopher Bang

You clicked on a page that had the blue verification.

@gnabnahc.

You scrolled through a few of his posts, not realizing a smallest smile had molded to your face.

His way of posting was similar to your brother's. Very boyfriend coded. Something you had always teased him about in the comments of your "fan" account.

"Y/N you know you're atrocious for leaving that comment." "219k people liked so I think you're wrong." "Yeah, cause they thought it was funny that you tagged Mom and Dad." "What else was I supposed to do? Allow my brother to solicit such images? I'm tired of hearing people simp over you. You're not even that great-"

Except he really was.

Your thumb stilled over a clear image of him, his birthday post froma a few days before you first called him.

26.

Your breath caught slightly as you stared at the unfamiliar face on your screen. You had never met him - his name now only being mentioned in the wake of your brother’s death, a friend of Hajun’s you had never gotten around to knowing in his life. Yet here you were, unable to tear your eyes away from his smile.

It was strange, the way his smile seemed to reach out to you, even though he was a stranger. His lips were curved in a way that felt so effortless, as if joy came naturally to him, even in a world that had assumingly taken from him. As it tended to do for everyone.

The crinkles at the corners of his eyes hinted at a warmth that felt oddly familiar, and foreign simultaneously. You didn’t know him: you had no reason to feel anything for him- especially in the mental state you were currently residing in -but there was something about that smile that tugged at something deep inside you - a place you had been trying to keep sealed off since Hajun died.

You frowned, your thumb hovering once more as if you might scroll away, but you didn’t. Instead, you found yourself studying the details - the way his dimples deepened when he smiled, the slight tilt of his head as if he was caught in the middle of laughing at something. A laugh you could almost hear clearly. Light, and airy, carrying the essence of an eternal giggle rather than a deep bellowing guffaw.

His smile reminded you of the way Juju smiled.

Except the difference between Hajun's smile and Chris's was that the warmth in Chris's smile didn’t just comfort you, or make you feel as if you were seen- it sparked something restless and new, like the first hint of spring after a long winter, coaxing your frozen heart to thaw slightly, even when you were sure you weren't ready to feel the warmth of the sun again.

You didn’t want to feel this a draw to someone you’d never met personally, especially not now, when grief still clung to you like a second skin. But the longer you looked, the harder it was to deny the pull. It wasn’t attraction, not exactly - it was more like an inexplicable need to hold onto something, anything, that didn’t hurt.

And somehow, without knowing how or why, Chritopher's smile had become that something.

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"Hyung! Your phone is ringing!" Jeongin's voice rang across the home to the eldest member, as he stuffed chips into his mouth while lounging on his bed.

"Innie-ah, I thought I told you to stop eating on my bed. You always leave crumbs." As he walked over to his dresser where his phone laid, Jeongin made a theatrical crunch as if proving a point to his leader.

"Ah! You're calling me messy! Our dorm is the cleanest how could you say that?" He mumbled, rolling over and opening up his secret account to scroll through edits.

Chris sighed and grabbed his phone, the call missed. When he tapped the screen, your name had popped up and immediately his heart flew to his throat.

He called you back immediately, waiting impatiently for you to pick up.

"Hello? Sorry did I wake you?"

"Ah, ah, no I promise you didn't wake me. It's only early evening over here- but wouldn't that mean it is early morning for you?

"I couldn't sleep. I'm home alone and even though I want to be alone...together. I don't want to be alone...alone."

Chris nodded. "I'm sorry Y/N, I'm sure that's really hard." Jeongin's ears perked up, his body flying into a seated position as he crawled closer to his Hyung who was now seated on the edge of the mattress. "But I'm here for you, you know?"

Jeongin tried his best to listen in, even trying to disguise his nosiness as seeking for affection, but Chris shook his head and pushed him off lightly with a light noogie to his head. Jeongin pouted and opened up a pack of gummy worms, chewing slower and more deliberately to try and listen in.

"Korea?" Chan asked, his voice raising slightly in surprise. "I mean that's a huge step but..." He nodded and Jeongin sighed, throwing himself back on the bed.

"I'm sure it will be hard. But you'll have support here. But with all the visas and stuff you'll have to have a valid reason to move...yeah...hm...I mean it could take a little bit unless you found a job...yeah..." He absentmindedly drew little doodles on his knee.

Jeongin's eyebrows scrunched. Who was the girl his leader was speaking so softly to? He could hear the slightest sound of your voice and Jeongin hmphed as he moved around again. Was his hyung dating someone?

The conversation you had with Chris went on for a while, until you decided that maybe it was time you at least try to rest your eyes.

"Good. You need to get sleep. We can talk about this when you have a clearer mind. Sleep well, Y/N."

"Goodnight." You said, hanging up. You put your phone on your desk and trekked towards your bed but looked at the small notebook that laid on it. Just one of many notebooks left.

There were hundreds and hundreds of lyrics Hajun had scribbled onto the cream-colored paper. You were grateful your parents had taken the time to raise you as a polyglot rather than just Hajun.

You seamlessly switched from English to Korean to Japanese and the occasional surprise inducing Spanish lyrics Hajun had written.

Language had always been an interest to you.

The minute Hajun had shown interest in becoming an entertainer by the age of seven, your parents had enrolled him in all types of music and dance related extracurriculars, and made you tag along as well in hopes that maybe you too would want to become a part of the entertainment industry, but rather than that you had fallen in love with tagging along to Hajun's language classes.

You credited your parents to the Korean and English knowledge you had, your mom and dad speaking the two languages throughout your childhood after reading somewhere that it was easier for children to learn languages due to brain plasticity. And due to the glories of the education system, you had taken Spanish throughout your high school years and taken quite a liking to the widely spoken language, even if you only knew it intermediately.

Hajun had been the one to teach you Japanese alongside one of his band members who was a native speaker. It was an excuse for you to chat with him regularly, and you missed that excuse when you had become a better speaker than your brother himself.

You flipped through his lyrics and wished you could have heard his voice sing these words or rap them. Or have these words overlay on a soothing melody.

Your fingers glided over imaginary piano keys, and you hummed softly. Not that you knew how to play the piano; you just enjoyed clashing a few keys together in a discordant way ever so often. But you had always been a choir kid, thanks to your parents pressuring their expectations on you. Hoping that one day you might choose to be on the same path as Hajun.

How sick and twisted may irony be.

The pages in front of you felt heavy with the weight of his unspoken words, dreams that were cut short too soon. You could almost hear his voice in your mind, the cadence of his lyrics dancing between panning between your ears. But it was just that - almost. The more you read, the more you were consumed by the silence, a silence and emptiness that gnawed at you.

A sudden pang of grief shot through your chest, sharp and undeniable. How could this be all that was left of him? Words on a page, a life that had been poured into lyrics, melodies, and dreams that would never be fulfilled. As if everything he did was for nothing? The thought twisted inside you, tightening your throat, suffocating in its cruelty.

But then, something else began to simmer beneath the surface of your grief - something that made your breath catch, and not in a way you were prepared for. You shook your head, trying to dismiss it, to focus on the memories, on the reality that becoming an idol was what drove him to his demise. How could you even think -no, it was irrational, absurd even.

Yet the thought was persistent, sneaking into the corners of your mind when you least expected it. What if you…what if you became the voice that could bring his words to life? What if you took the path he couldn’t complete, not to replace him but to…honor him? Was that it? Or was it something more?

You remembered Chris’s words from before, the casual mention of visas and logistics if you ever moved to Korea. It was a passing comment, a practical consideration that seemed so far-fetched- and now...now it was like a splinter under your skin.

The idea lingered, manic and wild. It felt almost like a betrayal to consider it, as if you were trying to follow in the footsteps that had led him to the edge of a cliff. But at the same time, there was a strange, allure to the consideration; one that made you wonder if you could find him again, not in the grave where he rested, but in the songs that never got to be sung.

The conflict in your mind was almost unbearable, a cacophony of fear, grief, and a desperate yearning for something you couldn’t quite define.

Was it closure? Was it madness? Or was it simply a need to feel closer to him, to understand why the path he chose became too much to bear?

You wanted to dismiss it as a fleeting thought, a product of your grief-stricken mind, but the more you tried to push it away, the more it burrowed itself into your consciousness. Becoming an idol -how crazy was that? It was the very thing that had taken him from you. And yet, the more you thought about it, the more it made a twisted kind of sense.

You weren’t like him, and maybe that’s why you could do it. Maybe, where he fell, you could stand. Maybe you could be strong enough to carry his dreams forward, to finish the songs he started. Or maybe it was just the grief talking, leading you down a path that made no sense, but felt like the only way to hold onto him, to not let him disappear completely.

The snap, when it came, was not sudden but gradual, like a rope fraying one fiber at a time until it finally broke. It wasn’t rational, it wasn’t even something you could explain, but the thought was there now, alive and insistent. You couldn’t tell if it was the worst idea you’d ever had or the only one that made sense in the wake of his absence.

The idea of giving life to Hajun’s lyrics -of turning his words into a melody that could fill the silence he left behind- was the only thing that seemed to soothe the ache in your heart. Even just imagining his songs being sung was like a balm, easing the pain with every note that played in your mind.

Becoming an idol…The very notion was wild, crazy, even, but in the midst of your grief, it felt like the only way to hear his voice again. To be with him. To find a way back to him, to find a way forward that wasn’t just drowning in the hundred of emotions he left behind.

You could feel it building, an irrational yet unstoppable force, a need that defied logic. It wasn’t about fame, or fortune, or even following in his footsteps. It was about something deeper, something primal. It was about reclaiming a part of him, of yourself, that felt lost in the shadows of his death.

The idea grew roots, tangled and dark, winding through your thoughts until it was impossible to separate it from your grief. You imagined yourself on stage, under the harsh lights, the crowd’s roar in your ears- was it your voice they wanted to hear, or his? The lines blurred, your identity slipping between the cracks as the thought took hold.

You had the voice. You had the potential to learn to dance. Your image would almost be a given - the amount of attention a company would get for signing on the younger sister of an incredibly loved and deceased idol would have media swarming and an immense amount of free promotion. It would be a conglomerates dream. But could you do it?

Could you really step into that world, knowing what it did to him?

The grief whispered that maybe you had no choice. Maybe this was your path now, carved out by the loss that had ripped your life apart. Maybe by becoming an idol, you could bring him back in some way, keep his memory alive.

It was reckless, it was irrational, it was everything you had never been. And yet…it was the only thing that made sense.

You could almost hear him scoffing at you from above, calling you out for your foolishness, and that made you smile- just a little. If he were here, he’d tell you how ridiculous you were being, probably flick your forehead scolding you about how this was the last thing you should do. But he wasn’t here. And that was the point, wasn’t it? To be where he couldn’t be, to say what he couldn’t say, to live the life he never got to finish.

The snap was complete now, your mind fracturing into a thousand pieces, each one demanding something different. Rationality warred with logic with desperation, but in the end, only one voice remained. The one that told you to go, to become, to do the very thing that had destroyed him.

Because maybe, just maybe, in that destruction, you could find the pieces of him that were still left. Maybe those pieces could fill what he had carved out from you.

And maybe - just maybe - in the echoes of your own voice, you could finally find peace.

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⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁. ݁₊ ⊹

If you or someone you know is suffering from suicidal ideation or thoughts of harming themselves, please reach out for help. You never know when someone's last day will be; no one ever does. But if you can help - even just a tiny bit, sometimes a word, text, or even a call can be a catalyst for positive change.

988 - USA Suicide Prevention Hotline | 24 Hours 111 - Helpline UK | 24 hours 1393 - Suicide Hotline Korea | 24 hours

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@abovenyx @wolfs-archive @oddracha

@iyeeeverydee @parisanmorovati @seungmincenteric

@panbish-1209 @fxiry-vtt @sseawavee

@shuporanporang @amarecerasus @softkisshyunjin

@whoa-jo @meanergreener @rikibun

@ayyonoona @shinywombatcrusade @y4yayael

@skzstan12345 @mariteez @allys-reads

@jazziwritesthings @skzstannie @yongbokkiesworld

@kkkeopi @neverendingstay @moony-9

@minsungsthirdwheel @everlastingspring143 @joyofbebbanburg

@0325tiny @resi4skz @soaplickerrr

@leezanetheofficial @stressymessyana @istglevi-gotmesimping

@hannamoon143 @kayleefriedchicken

[ddarker-dreams]

a little fluff blurb for bladie from my google docs !! reader here is fem.

Blade almost took it personally when you failed to notice him. 

His presence in your room certainly stands out. Everything about him contradicts the soft pastel colors, abundant flora, and cute finishing touches. Nothing in the universe aside from your kitchenette registers. You hum along with the song playing in your ears, waiting for your tea’s timer to go off. 

He walked in when the countdown read five minutes. Presently, it’s at two. 

You’re wearing dangerously short pajama shorts and an old t-shirt, the band’s logo faded out from years in the wash. He’d considered making himself known, but watching you frolic about proved too tempting. You have your back turned toward him, entirely oblivious, stuck in a little world of your own making. 

Creepy as it may be, Blade considers it soothing to stare at you. Therapeutic, even. A way to unwind from the blood-filled jobs that beckon his mara out to play.

A wicked idea forms in his head. Going without you for so much as a day is enough to seriously dampen his mood. Normally, it’s his enemies that reap the consequences. He’ll miss their vitals just enough that they’re left to go into shock and bleed out, rather than a swift, merciful death. What can he say? It’s their fault for existing and cutting into his time with you. That’s on them.

He stalks over, movements akin to a mountain lion that’s located its unsuspecting prey. 

You’re lifting the teabag out a few moments early. He’s close enough to double as your shadow, the corners of his lips twitching upward from anticipation. 

The second your timer goes off, he strikes, large hands settling on either side of your hips. This unexpected contact earns immediate retaliation. You actually squeak, much to his surprise (and amusement). Your response doesn’t end there. From instinct, you twist your torso around, ready to ward off the threat. 

Maybe it’s because you have an object in your hand, or maybe it’s because your subconscious knows you’re in no real danger, but you don’t materialize your weapon. 

Instead, you try thwacking him with your dripping teabag. 

He easily catches your wrist, thwarting your assault. It takes you all of a millisecond to understand the situation. You use your free hand to slowly remove your in-ears. He can’t help it — your pinched-together eyebrows and scrunched-up nose makes him chuckle. This worsens his crimes from your perspective, which you make evident by a non-threatening glare. 

“Nice weapon,” he drawls. 

“Hey, that’s— that’s unfair,” you complain. “I wasn’t expecting an ambush.” 

Blade raises an eyebrow. “Is it an ambush if you expect it?” 

“Yes? No. Maybe. Quit looking at me like that, I didn’t sleep well last night.” 

“Mhm.” 

He plucks the teabag from your grasp and throws it away. Meanwhile, you remain frozen in time, only moving enough to cross your arms over your chest. The wrath you try directing his way is largely ineffective. Your miffed countenance is akin to a bunny scowling. 

“I was looking forward to your return, but I’ve since changed my mind.” 

“Mm.” 

He hoists you up onto the kitchenette’s countertop. The way the soft flesh of your thighs expands against the marble tempts him, but he knows he won’t be getting anything until your faux frustration is appeased. It won’t take much — or long. He just gazes into your pretty eyes, his bandaged hand cupping your face, the pad of his thumb massaging your cheekbone. You melt for him almost immediately. 

“Everything alright?” You ask, your arms finding their place around his neck. 

To Blade, everything’s more than ‘alright,’ because you’re here. Treating him with care he doesn’t deserve, and love he deserves even less. He used to worry he’d taint you, like clear waters turning opaque from filth. However, it’s as Kafka once said, likely pitying his lovelorn self. 

“Shouldn’t you let her decide that for herself?” 

For reasons genuinely beyond his comprehension, you decided he was worth the trouble. 

His gloved hand settles on your thigh. The irony of how he caresses you with the same hand responsible for hundreds, if not thousands of deaths isn't lost on him. Since regaining a semblance of consciousness, that's all he thought he was good for. Bloodshed and slaughter.

He observes how you shudder through lidded eyes.

You don't look at him as if he's a monster. You should, he often thinks, because he is. There's no sugarcoating the truth. He's become everything he once swore to eradicate. Mad, vengeful, immortal. A product of the Abundance's perversion of the lines separating life and death.

And yet, all those centuries, all that suffering led him to you.

You aren't the light at the end of the tunnel — you're light in its entirety.

Blade is greedy when he slots his lips against yours. He's greedy when he pulls you closer, his bandaged hand tilting your head up, allowing him to devour you with ease. Your scent, your taste, your little laugh at how unabashedly eager he is, everything blurs together and threatens to leave him breathless.

How can he pull away when your legs wrap around his waist? When you thread your hands through his hair, reciprocating his ardor like he's worth even an ounce of your affection? He isn't, he's nothing compared to you, a ghost of a man who can't cross over into the afterlife.

Sometimes, he no longer wants to. Not if you're on this side of eternity.

"Well?" You pull back a few inches from him to ask. As pretty as your smile is, he likes your lips best when they're against his. "You gonna answer my question?"

He furrows his eyebrows together and tries kissing you again. Talking about emotions in any context isn't his forte, you both know that. He's always preferred to express himself through actions than words. However, when you deny him the pleasure of your lips a second time, impatience coils inside his chest.

He huffs.

"The best," he deadpans. You roll your eyes yet laugh anyway.

"You almost pout more than I do," you tease. For this infraction, he gives your thigh a pinch, enjoying the feeling of your soft flesh a little too much. "I just worry, y'know? You become such a sourpuss when we're apart for any length of time."

You aren't wrong, but he'll keep that to himself.

“Okay, okay, stop glaring. C’mere.”

You don’t need to tell him twice. He takes you up on your offer the second you’ve finished making it.

Blade might not know how to tell you how much you mean to him, but that doesn’t mean he can show you.

[cyjammy]

Alastor: A Fairly Predictable Enigma

I love how Alastor is written in the sneak peek.

Alastor waited until a prime moment of vulnerability from Charlie before he revealed that he knew angels could be killed. (Hey, we all know it, context clues, baby)

And here’s why he did it. Alastor may be seen as unpredictable, but he does have a code he follows.

It wouldn’t have made sense for him to tell Charlie as soon as he found out, he waited until this moment — for Charlie to be at her wits end before he offered the option.

Charlie is a firm believer in her plan for redemption. She’s a pacifist. It doesn’t matter what they have done or when they did it, she believes they can turn their lives around and be better.

So, Alastor was amused by the princess who boasted about her plan, took everything with a smile and unbridled optimism. She basically practiced everything he preached.

Alastor respects that.

Alastor even acknowledges this. He never expected Charlie to give up. To wallow in pity over a loss no matter how big.

With her firm beliefs comes a difficulty in getting her to try something different. Charlie’s behavior is so engrained in her very being that she will refuse to go against it.

If Alastor were to tell her before she went through everything she did in this season: being laughed at and ridiculed, having her beliefs questioned by the determining powers that have influence over her success, being confronted by a rigged system and being lied to by the person she trusted most —

She would have never listened.

Killing angels would be the last thing she would consider, and even then she would actively prevent this from happening if she had known about it earlier.

Charlie had to be battered by the world to see a new perspective. You can only rebuild what has been broken. She had to confront the world and all its flaws, break out from her delusional bubble and see things for how they actually are.

All of Charlie’s complaining about her stresses and basically giving up is what makes Alastor share that angels can be killed. Charlie sees the world for how it is and wants to give up.

Alastor can’t let that happen, so now that she’s out of options, the only thing she can do now is fight.

Alastor knows this all too well and takes advantage of it. If Charlie gives up, he no longer gets to see how this story plays out.

If he didn’t care, he would have left a long time ago (unless Lilith is commanding him to stay, which I firmly believe and I will die on this hill).

Alastor may not care for the patrons of the Hotel, but he does love a show, and what better than a war against Heaven?

Episode 7 and 8 are going to be amazing, I can’t wait until Thursday!

[777gojosgf]

reader deals with heavy depression after geto disappeared

tw: heavy heavy talk about depression

a/n: i haven’t posted on here for like 2 months and this was in my angsty drafts for awhile lol so it’s pretty shit but err whatever

another side note: reader already deals with seasonal depression but geto’s disappearance was like triggering

——

the pounding in your head never came to cease, a rhythmic movement you have grown to crave instead of avoid. the longing of letting yourself succumb to these dark thoughts because it’s the only time you feel like yourself.

as if you were born miserable.

you laid on the floor of your dorm room, the scribbled down notes splattered with tears were all across your room. you had decided to take up the advice to write your feelings down in a way to sort whatever you felt inside. however, you found yourself unable to put it into words.

it’s a feeling that someone who has never felt it is not able to imagine it. after all, what sane person craves to be sad?

however, it's possible that this is what gave you a sense of aliveness at this moment. and it's not just some kind of sadness, nor is it because you want attention. it’s a seasonal condition that resurfaces the instant you manage to get back on your feet and start living your life normally again.

it returns in moments of enjoyment, when everyone is together and making jokes. yet, you feel out of place, as if you are not present with them. your mind wanders to thoughts you shouldn't have in such a nice setting. it’s as if you attract these sombre ideas and are unable to adjust to the tranquilly that everyone else appears to have.

you were so tired of feeling like you were crazy.

you were unable to do anything once he left. it felt as if time had stopped, but life compelled you to continue. why did it appear like it did not matter to anyone? how could everyone just keep living and looking at you with pity?

it truly wears you down to be bound to someone for so long.

sometimes you wish you could crawl out of your body and see yourself from a different perspective. to check if you could still feel the anguish or if it was simply embroidered in your bones. if there was anything else to you but this sense of nothingness.

you had never felt lonelier than in a room full of your friends.

the worst part of it all was that nothing helped.

you knew that it would get better.

and it does get better.

but how much worse can things get before you glimpse the light again? how long will it be before your brief moment of enjoyment fades?

you had considered running after him. must set aside all your principles, because what morals are there to follow if you don't have the one thing in your life that keeps you going?

what’s the point in anything if not for love?

you wanted to shout that your brain simply functions in this manner and that you weren't being dramatic. knowing you are unable to stop the self-destruction your body has created. that, like everyone else, you have made a sincere effort to get up and make the most of it. you really did try. you all had a wound to heal, but you chose to leave it open.

so when gojo broke down your door and fell down beside you to see if you were still alive after not having left your dorm room for days—even though it had seemed you were getting better—you had knew that everything has gone too far.

this emptiness inside of you.

the agony.

everything went too far.

he went too far.

and you were aware that you could not have accomplished what he did in any lifetime. that you couldn't force yourself to crawl after him because you would never stoop so low.

after years of telling each other broken promises that are now coming back to haunt you, there was only one thing left to realise: you had to carry on. it was not your fault that you felt the way you did, and there is probably no way to fix it. but it was time to let yourself heal and accept that you are not okay.

that it’s okay to ask for help.

if not for yourself, than for your friends.

gojo had not been able to shake you out of your paralyzed state, and it wasn’t until the feeling of his tear dropping on your face that you finally looked at him. him shouting that you can’t let it get to you, that he can’t lose you too fell almost deaf upon your ears.

you had allowed yourself to sit up straight and fall into his arms, tears silently pouring down your cheeks in a strange sensation of relief, which only exacerbated your already severe headache. you were both sobbing as you huddled together in your dorm room. both unwilling to accept what has happened and forced to continue pretending to understand.

neither of you had mentioned that night ever again.

there was a before geto, a during geto, but you never imagined there would be an after him, and it would be so devastating.

but you were grateful gojo found you when he did; otherwise, there was no guarantee you'd be here today. teaching the next generation while the memory of geto stays with you.

he would always be a part of you, and you had learnt to accept and love it rather than allowing it to break you apart.

to heal.

[eniokai]

I tried to explain to myself some of Marius's actions towards Armand, and I ended up with a lengthy post in which I want to express my perspective on the dynamics of Marius's relationships with Lestat and Armand. I want to emphasize that this is not how I personally view these characters, but rather how I see Marius's perspective on them.

It will be no secret that in Lestat's and Armand's lives, Marius occupies the role of a mentor, teacher, wise advisor, and serves as a father figure for both of them.

If we consider their relationships as familial, in this hierarchy, not by age but by position, Lestat would be the older child, upon whom Marius places his main expectations, ambitions, and hopes. Lestat is a reflection of Marius himself, the heir to his values and ideas. They are soulmates, sharing views on life and understanding each other well. This forms the foundation of their love and mutual respect. Respect is particularly important here because, despite the fact that Lestat creates just as many problems and chaos as Armand (honestly, even more) Marius sees him as an independent individual. He considers him an equal.

In contrast to Lestat, Armand is complicated and incomprehensible to Marius. He occupies the position of the stereotypical younger child, someone Marius expects nothing from and places no hopes on. He loves Armand simply for existing, even if that existence is not right beside him. However, Armand pays for the lack of burdensome expectations with the fact that he is not treated as an adult independent person. Marius does not believe that Armand is mature enough to live without the interventions of a true adult (Marius) in his life.

Does Marius consider Armand his equal? My honest answer to that is no. You have every right to disagree with this. Marius is convinced that he not only has the full right to make important decisions regarding Armand's life and to scold him like a child, but he believes that Armand needs this.

So how do Armand and Lestat differ in their positions? In absolutely every way. Lestat was initially a free person, he already had a formed personality and he already had a true maker. He found Marius on his own initiative and chose Marius as his authority.

Armand in turn belonged to Marius in the most direct and barbaric sense. Even if Marius did not consider him literal property, that was the factual status of Armand in palazzo. The difference in position and status is obvious.

Furthermore, what is most important is that Armand hardly remembered his life before the brothel. Armand was a blank slate. His new identity was built on mentorship and guidance from his master. Marius replaced parents, teachers, and other possible authority figures. This is more significant than Marius's involvement in the life of any other boy from the palazzo because they had a past, possibly families, and they knew their identities. In Amadeo's life, Marius is the foundation of his new personality.

And perhaps most obviously, but no less significantly, Armand is Marius's fledgling, his dark child.

I’ve seen a lot of angry discussions about why Marius believes he has the right to make decisions for Armand. I agree with this perspective, I think he genuinely believes he has rights over Armand due to all the aforementioned circumstances (not because of the fact that he bought him, but because of the immense influence he has had on his personality and his status as Armand's maker). I see an analogy here with parents who struggle to accept their children’s adulthood, they want to do what’s best, but it often backfires.

But at the same time, Marius is willing to take responsibility (finally 🤐). He takes Daniel under his wing not because he feels pity for some half-mad newly turned vampire, but because it’s a failure his own fledgling. Rights and responsibilities cannot exist without each other. Perhaps in this way, he is trying to atone for his actions (or lack thereof) towards Armand, maybe to redeem himself as master and maker. But I doubt Marius will ever be able to admit this, even to himself.

Armand finds it difficult to break the established opinion about him. Throughout the series of books, there has been a constant tension between them, which sometimes escalated into open conflict.

Armand would lose his temper when referred to as a child, he fought for the right to be considered an adult, as he had indeed gone through his own journey and made significant progress. Unfortunately for him, Marius is not a psychology guru. The differences in their views, life rules, and temperaments are perceived by Marius as misconceptions and immaturity, while Armand's adherence to religious beliefs is seen as a sign of suggestibility and an inability to make his own decisions. To be honest, I think there is some rational basis in this. The occasional emotional outbursts and impulsive actions, but most of all Armand's walked out into the sun, only reinforce Marius's opinion that Armand cannot handle his life on his own.

Let's wish Armand success in being perceived as an adult! 🌠

Origin: Cryptid Club

[flower-boi16]

Forgot to add, but Stolas basically guilt tripped him into doing it.

"The one who wants me is my first ever friend..."

Blitz was perfectly willing to just leave Stolas there tied up, but instead gave him pity sex.

Yeah sure...Blitz was the one to make it all about sex. No Stolas....no....that was ALL YOU! The only thing Blitz did was do a little bit of flirting and steal the book, he didn't make it about sex. From beginning to end, that was all you.

People like to defend this kind of shit with "Oh it's intentional because it's meant to show Stolas lacking self-awarness!", which is very funny because 1. You are actively acknoweledging that Stolas' perspective here is invalid and Blitz's is which goes against the whole idea that both sides are suppoused to be in the wrong and 2. The show is not calling this shit out and every time Stolas says something like this (The final scene in Full Moon and the begining of Apology Tour) it's never called out nor is it ever frammed as that, and in Apology Tour specifically it is very obvious that we are specifically suppoused to take Stolas' side here and see Blitz as purely in the wrong.

I also do need to acknowledge that there are people who think that Blitz's feelings are portayed as valid by the narrative. They are not. The final scene in Full Moon and the begining of Apology Tour have Blitz rant about Stolas being a prince and considering that Oops established that this is a bias Blitz has towards Stolas it is very clear that these scenes are intended to be read as Blitz being blinded by his biases against Stolas due to Stolas being a prince, and he's too consumed in his biases to see that Stolas has real feelings for him. That is how these scenes are being frammed and clearly how they are suppoused to be read.

So no, the show doesn't see Blitz's perspective as valid. There is that rant in the begining of AT where Blitzo awkardly spells out his self-hatred keeping him from believing that a prince could possibily love him but the rest of the episode frames Stolas as someone hurt by Blitzo's actions and Blitzo as an asshole who hurts others. So his self-loathing isn't really something that the episode really wants you to sympathize with, only as another reason for why Blitz struggles to see that Stolas loves him.

Blitzo isn't a character that the show wants you sympathize with in this situation; the point of the episode is Blitz realizing that he isn't a good person and he needs to change. That's not a set up for a sympathetic character.

The show is directly outlining people information like this yet people still make bullshit excuses for Viv's writting based on some tweets. Blitz's perspective is never treated as valid by the narrative at all, sure, it acknowledges that Stolas was wrong for making this deal in the first place, but that gets rendered moot because that's not the reason for why Blitz hates Stolas; Blitz hates Stolas because of a bias he had against royals that completely came out of nowhere in season 2 solely so the show could make him purely look like an asshole consumed by his biases.

The narrative doesn't see Stolas SAing Blitz as the reason he hates Stolas, rather it sees Blitz's bias being a reason for that. It doesn't actually look at Blitz's perspective and how Stolas' actions may have affected him, hell it shows that it doesn't even affect him at all!

It's another instance of the show demonizing the people who Stolas has hurt so it could make them look unreasonable and further woobify Stolas. It's made even worse with the implication in Apology Tour of Blitz gaining feelings for Stolas and since Blitz really wanted to fuck Stolas it's not unreasonable to assume that the show may go in the route of "Blitz liked being SA'd by Stolas but he was just too comsumed by his biases to realize it!" because then you are fully painting Blitz as an biased asshole and any argument that the show understands his perspective gets thrown out the window.

Stolas' feelings are treated as valid by the narrative, how hurt he feels that Blitzy doesn't love him, that Blitzy doesn't see that Stolas loves him back, that Blitzy is "making him uncomfortable". Meanwhile, the narrative purely treats Blitz's feelings about Stolas as completely invalid, not using Stolas SAing him as an reason for Blitz hating him but rather him being too comsumed by his own biases.

There's a strong inbalance here that makes the argument that the show wants us to see them both as in the wrong completely fall apart. Blitzo is treated as the problem by the narrative and the fandom, that he's hurting poor Stolas' feelings with how he's treating the bird boy. And here's the thing; Blitzo having this bias came out of nowhere. There as no hint of this in season 1 or the first five episodes of season 2, it was only until Oops where this thing came up. This was never shown to be a character trait Blitz had nor is there even any reason for it, why Blitz has these preconcieved notions about Stolas going in. It's because the writters pulled this out of their ass so they could have an easy way to make Blitzo look like a complete asshole. Nothing more.

It's further accentuated by the show using "tell don't show" in that scene, where we are told that Stolas did all these nice things for Blitz rather than shown, and not to mention these nice things do not line up with Stolas' behavior at all in season 1. It's all just completely and utterly lazy. It's a lazy way to make Blitz in the wrong here. It's a lazy way to absolve Stolas of his behavior again so the narrative could coddle him.

It's a lazy way for the show to pretend this relationship has naunce when it doesn't. Oh, and fans have the fucking gall to say "you don't understand the nuances" when people critisize this shit. Oh, I'm sorry, what naunces? This relationship isn't nuanced in the slightest; it's a victim and abuser relationship where the victim is strawmanned and portayed as wrong and the abuser is coddled and woobifyed. Whether it was intentional or not, that is how the relationship comes across as.

The show needs to see that BOTH perspectives are valid for the "their both in the wrong" thing to even work, but it doesn't. Blitz never gets any slack and Stolas is babyed. That is how this relationship is frammed. You can not ever convince me otherwise.

[choking-on-ice]

exactly 1 person asked, so here's 30 minutes worth of reasons why Silco x Viktor is my Arcane OTP and more people should open themselves to it's glory

and yes, I did format it a little like an oral presentation, what of it

General Compatibility

Both of them have a dry wit and unique outlook on life

People who don't know them well might find them very blasé but in truth they're both very caring and passionate people

Their banter would be top tier, frankly it's hard to picture anyone would be able to match Viktor’s quips as well as Silco could (Jayce understands the jokes and teasing ofc, but I just don't see him being able to bounce back the same energy. Though Mel could probably keep up just as well as Silco, but in a more light hearted way)

Silco wouldn't struggle with pitying or underestimating Viktor for his disability, nor would he ignore it and be all “it doesn't matter, it's what makes you, you” (as a disabled crutch user, ppl pretending ur disability doesn't exist and just expecting you to act able bodied is wayyy more common than people being over the top “worried”)

Viktor would very much be the angel on Silco’s shoulder, while Silco would be a bit of the devil on his

Silco is arguably the angel on other people's shoulders at times, given that he gives ppl who would be in senseless gang wars a real goal and drive towards progress for Zaun

Viktor could be considered the devil on Jayce’s shoulder sometimes, tempting him to push against authority for sake of technological advancement

Silco needs someone who has the mind for tech, strategy, politics, and philosophy at his side, since he's in a position of power with no advisors

Viktor needs someone who values him for his mind, body, and heart, but also his background. He's seen as “one of the good ones” and this never really gets a seat at the table, he needs someone who genuinely trusts in his input that would put his advice to work

They're both men of action, sitting on their hands and twiddling their thumbs doesn't suit them. There wouldn't be a “will they won't they” and the chances of them getting together in the spur of the moment only to realize there are real feelings there much later are pretty high

Similarities

Disabled men from the undercity who are driven by their desire to prevent anyone else from having to suffer the way they have at the hands of a corrupt system (in a non "gotta cure all the poor cripples way" cuz that shit is as uninspired as it is insulting)

Have dedicated their life to improving the living conditions of their people

Very intelligent and clearly brilliant in their professions, despite how different they may be

Both their altruistic goals come to ruin because power, whether they wanted that power or not, blinded and corrupted those goals

Impulsive as hell, Silco in his personal life but Viktor in his personal and professional

Differences

Silco is disillusioned and doesn't see a path to freedom for his people that doesn't involve bloodshed

Viktor is an idealist who might understand the necessity for violence in certain instances but would never seek, encourage, or enact it

Silco is a strategist, and a very good one at that, who uses the genius of others to gain and hold power via technology

Viktor is an inventor, and the most brilliant one we see in their world, who yes pushes boundaries of authority but never seeks power over others (from his perspective, his Messiah era was meant to be a chance at freedom for people who had been denied it, not authority over them)

Viktor is deeply trusting, he doesn't plot or scheme and barely ever lies

Silco trusts very little, we even his moment of doubt that Sevika might kill him that one time, his greatest skill is his ability to scheme and cheat others

Viktor doesn't believe in “the sacrifice of the few to save the many” but would commit the personal sacrifice of those he holds most dear to achieve his dream of helping Zaun and the world

Silco does believe that the death of a hundred to save a thousand is worth it, but he would never allow a personal sacrifice of the person he holds most dear even when it would mean Zaun becoming a free nation

Potential Dynamics

Disappointed Leader and Follower

Silco thinks Viktor is a class traitor, who abandoned his people as soon as the wealthy Pilties showed him an ounce of approval

Viktor thinks Silco is brilliant, and was an eager follower of his when he was younger, but now thinks he's abandoned his goals of freeing Zaun from Piltover and is just replacing the subjection of their people by Pilties with his own.

As they get to know eachother they come to understand better that their goals are the same, the only difference is how the world allowed them the chance to pursue it.

Is this fighting or making out?

Silco likes the power of putting “Piltover’s Brightest” in his place

Viktor is even more stubborn than he is smart, and maybe has a bit of a thing for humiliation

Who's worshipping who?

Silco is in secret awe of enlightened Viktor, but is overwhelmed by the idea of putting his hope and heart in someone else's control

Viktor is putty in the hands of his childhood hero, but can't shake the feeling that even now with the Arcane flowing through him, he isn't strong enough to stay afloat in the storm that is Silco

(Would happen in a version where Silco is revived by Viktor, but in this one the ppl saved by Viktor retain their personalities)

Scenarios / AUs

Early enlightenment Viktor being sought out by Silco who at first is worried about him being a threat, but then seeing the vision Viktor has for Zaun and the things he's capable of deciding he is an asset. Silco providing protectors of their sanctuary, under the guise that he’s “planning how to use Viktor as a pawn” when in reality this commune is the first sign of hope he's seen for Zaun in a long time.

Viktor seeking out shimmer from Silco, because he recognizes the ingenuity behind the drug even if he doesn't approve of it. Silco distrusts him and will only sell to him if he conducts his experiments on it down in the undercity. Viktor starts pulling double duty, working both in Piltover and in Zaun and they become closer and begin to collaborate on the creation and distribution of a new strain of shimmer, not meant to be used as a recreational drug but instead as an affordable, accessible medication for those affected by the toxic fumes from the mines. Viktor is reminded of his roots, and realizes how distant from his culture he's become. Silco is reminded that his dream for Zaun doesn't mean anything if the generation of those he wants to build it for are dead. (Also a great opportunity for some Jayce/Viktor Silco/Viktor love triangle jealousy nonsense hehehe)

Silco succeeds in his negotiations for Zaun freedom before he can become a chembaron, Viktor ends up becoming an ambassador for Zaun. Specifically dealing with education and technology as Zaun would have limited resources, so he is one of the people overseeing the building of the educational system and helping to fix the pollution from the mines with Hextech (he and Jayce would obviously be able to recreate Hextech, but the existence of a free Zaun means that the property of it is shared by both nations)

Viktor loses his benefactor when they discover something from his past that the Pilties deem “unfit of an Academy member” and must return to the fissures, this time as the right hand man of Silco who would never be stupid enough to let his talents go to waste.

Silco replaces Sky as Viktor's astral guide (because let's be real Sky was just thrown in there bc Arcane was queerbaiting the fuck outta Jayce and Viktor for some reason so they needed a random woman who had barely ever spoken on screen before) and their astral conversations go a little differently

Honourable mentions to: Viktor doing that shimmer painting stuff for Silco or vice versa, Speakeasy AU where there's a Zaunite run speakeasy topside that both Viktor and Silco frequent, Altered Timeline AU where Viktor seeks Silco out just before he becomes a chembaron to bring him to the Council as a temp member while they consider his proposition for Zaun's independance, Viktor must form an allyship with Silco so he can work on reducing the toxic gases in the fissures without being arrested by enforcers as he's going against council orders, or being killed by the other chembaron who runs that section of the city, Viktor joins the Firelights after Jayce threatens war on Zaun and begins brokering deals with other smaller gangs until Silco hears word and is interested in forming an alliance.

I hope you enjoyed this ted talk, please feel free to share with your friends and to tag me in any fanart / fanfics you see out there because I'm rabid for these fellas

thank you @orionchildofhades for the opportunity to go apeshit on main about these two

And big shout out to @blueberrymffn who's fanfiction The Things We Do For Progress got me hooked on this ship

[raileurta]

The tfp kids were some of the first things I created in GL2, and it's been a few months since then and I have gotten much better. So here's my updated version of their designs/story.

Also fyi before I forget this is not what I would actually have them be in the show if I had written it. This just self indulgent takes on the characters. Let me know if you want to see how I would have written the show.

Miko

Age: 17

Pronouns: Uses any.

Likes: Skateboarding, drawing, slash monkey, kemonomimi, horror movies, fighting, her friends, and monster trucks.

Dislikes: School, conformation, bullies, and authority.

Description: Miko is a full blooded Japanese exchange student that came for America’s music, art, and to free themselves from his overly strict parents. She's quite energetic and finds it hard to sit still. So to help rid herself of her extra energy he'll practice kickboxing or parkour around town. While she may not act it she is actually intelligent. Miko is also quite the music and language prodigy, easily being able to learn them. He just hates the rigid school system and doesn't care for homework. Miko doesn't have many friends as most are put off by their strange personality and or scared of her. If you do become their friend though Miko is very loyal and will be your ride or die to the end.

Miko is a force to be reckoned with so watch out Decepticons, they're coming for you!

Raf

Age: 12.5;

Pronouns: He/Him

Likes: Coding, his friends, studying, snakes, robots, math, science, cats, school, chocolate, and nature.

Dislikes: Yelling, pity, scary movies, being alone, hospitals, and dogs.

Description: Raf is a young techno genius that was born with quite a few health problems. He is the second youngest out of his many siblings, five to be exact. Since his parents are always busy with work and Raf’s other siblings, he tends to be forgotten a lot. He doesn't let that get him down though (most of the time) and is quite a cheery kid. He puts his smarts to good use and has skipped four grades already while also taking some college classes. While he likes science and math his real passion is coding along with robotics. He dreams of one day opening his own tech company.

He might be a sweet kid but don't underestimate him. Raf could hack circles around even among some of Cybertronian’s elite.

Jack

Age: 16

Pronouns: He/Him

Likes: Motorcycles, girls, family, social media, and his friends.

Dislikes: Risks, seeing his friends hurt, and bullying.

Description: Jack is quite an average guy all things considered; he's not overly smart or a great fighter but he is quite the strategist and knows how to deal with people. Jack helps bring out the strengths in Miko and Raf and how to make them use it the most effectively. If he is trained properly he could become quite the leader. He lives with only his Mom, Jack’s dad having passed away a long time ago. He does every he can to help support his mom. While yes he feels she can be too overprotective or a bit embarrassing at times he loves his mom and wants to lessen her burden as much as he can. The reason he even got a job in the first place was to help her out with the bills.

Watch out for our very own human prime! He won't hesitate to sick his friends on those deserving.

Explanation undercut

Miko is still my favorite out of the trio and I will continue to show blatant favoritism. I learned much much more into the punk aesthetic because I think it's perfect for her personality. While I did like how colourful her old design was from a character design perspective it wasn't really unified or fit there enough.

Anyways she has some big ol stomping boots now that are definitely steel tipped. (Ouch man) They give them around 4-5 inches and make her the same height as Jack when wearing them. She also has knee pads and a shoulder pad. Well because skating and I wanted her to have armor without it being armor. If that makes sense? Miko also has horns partly since she likes kemonomimi but mostly because he's a “daredevil.” Miko's skateboard is Bulkhead themed, of course no explanation needed there. I tried to do some messy makeup since they give off that vibe.

I'm a sucker for the black people with white hair design. Plus I thought Raf kinda being (fictional) albino would play into Raf being ill. When something is wrong with you you're more likely to have more problems. For him I kept it generally similar to the last design just made more cohesive. He still has that nerdy school boy vibe and stuff. He also has a wrist brace now since someone told me how bad canes are for it so I wanted him to have some extra support to help.

If you look closely, his bag has a bumblebee on it.

Jack's design also didn't change that much; the main thing is his eyes are now blue. I thought it would be a nice nod to how since he's a human prime that his eyes should be autobot blue. Plus it fits the color scheme better. His gloves are leather and arcree themed. Yeah nothing to say much, as he also didn't change a lot. 🤷

Edit: Forgot to include the updated irl me design.

[maxdibert]

It does seem pretty hypocritical to constantly criticize James but not Sirius, doesn’t it? All your hatred is directed at James honestly you’re a bit obsessed, just saying.

First of all, I’m quite critical of Sirius. In fact, I have several posts talking about him and how I think he’s the most sadistic of the two, the most unstable, and also the most violent. In those posts, I also explain that even though he broke away from his family ideologically when it came to beliefs about blood purity, he still maintained an aristocratic and snobbish attitude, believing himself above others simply because of his birth.

That said, my leniency with Sirius compared to James comes from the fact that I understand Sirius. I mean, I understand where that violence and awful personality come from, just as I understand Severus’s need to find a place where he felt protected and powerful. In the same way, it makes sense to me that Severus ended up in a sort of cult because he had no other options—lacking economic or social power and having zero future prospects in a house where everyone shared a specific ideology. I also understand why he found meaning in supremacist ideas because his experiences with Muggles were based on what he’d endured with his violent Muggle father and his terribly impoverished Muggle environment. Similarly, it makes sense to me that Sirius was a jerk because he was raised in a family of jerks.

And if I didn’t think Sirius’s behavior was understandable given the environment he was raised in, it would be pretty hypocritical of me to defend Severus’s decisions based on his background. The difference between the two—and the reason I lean towards Severus—is that Sirius abused his economic and social power. Sirius attempted murder without facing consequences, and Sirius believed he was morally superior for choosing a certain political stance while still holding on to terrible behaviors. And I can’t stand people who claim to be progressive without understanding a damn thing about it.

But no, I’m not as harsh on Sirius as I am on James, and no, it’s not because I think Sirius was "a poor boy mistreated by his parents and abused," because honestly, that’s not how I see the character. I don’t even pity him for having to leave home because he did so with a hefty inheritance from his uncle, an apartment his uncle left him, and he moved in with the Potters, who were rich. No, I’m more understanding of Sirius because I understand where Sirius comes from.

Sirius grew up in a family of supremacists who, from a young age, showed him that violence and sadism weren’t just normal and everyday behaviors but entirely justifiable if there was a logical reason for it. In his family’s case, it was justifiable to mistreat, marginalize, and even kill people because of their blood status. Sirius simply shifted that perspective to Slytherins or to people who represented what he rejected—his family ideology. But he never left behind the sadistic and aristocratic attitudes of the Blacks; he never abandoned that sense of superiority that was instilled in him. He merely transferred it to a group over whom he considered it more morally acceptable to feel superior. That’s it. Sirius was violent because he grew up around violent people who taught him he had the right to be violent simply because of who he was. Similarly, Draco was a snobbish supremacist because his parents raised him that way. Does that excuse their actions? Of course not. I’m the first to condemn them, just as I condemn many things Severus did. But, as with Severus, I understand that in Sirius’s case, his background explains his personality, and therefore I can understand the character, even if I find his attitude disgusting and criticize him all the time.

James’s case is different. Not only was James raised in luxury, with two parents who loved him, who gave him affection, and who considered him the most important thing in the world because they’d spent years trying unsuccessfully to have children. No, James was also RAISED IN A PROGRESSIVE FAMILY. He was upper class but supposedly part of that elite group of open-minded people who had no prejudices or at least actively fought against supremacism. In his environment, being a bigot was frowned upon—that’s the education he received from his parents. He wasn’t raised to normalize violence or discrimination. On the contrary, he was supposedly raised with ethics and morals, and yet he deliberately chose to be a piece of crap.

It’s not something inherent to his cognitive development, like Sirius. It’s not something rooted in his parents’ worldview, like Draco. It’s not something that came from an unstable, impoverished environment that he had to desperately escape, like Severus. No, he just felt like it. He woke up and decided that at Hogwarts, he’d be a bully simply because he could and because it fed his ego, and I’m sorry, but to me, that’s unforgivable. Especially if, on top of it all, the guy thought he was better than certain people because of his political inclinations when he clearly didn’t understand them and exemplified the exact opposite of what he supposedly stood for. Honestly, the James Potters of this world are the worst kind of people and literally a cancer for any political group, movement, or activist cause they join. Guillotine for them.

[mdhwrites]

Luz Left a World to Die

Here is Luz's perspective on the Collector at the end of S2. This all powerful being who can move celestial bodies and reshape the world around him as he desires just killed Belos by playing Tag with him. One poke and splatted him against a wall. Then he turned to me and my friends and asked to play with us. By all indications, he had no intention of holding back just because they might not be able to handle it. No one acts like they're safe. They quickly do all they can to make sure they don't play Tag, hence why they come up with a new game. Then they run out, escape being the only option as The Collector tears bone asunder with seemingly no effort and robs her of her found brother.

THAT is the version of the Collector that Luz thinks runs the Isles. That she thinks needs to be beaten. It is in fact because of how bad The Collector is that she claims to have fucked up so hard. That is the best excuse she has for why she is so rough on herself for having contributed to him being let free, stupid as that is.

This is the world she never wants to come back to. That she does not want to attempt to save in order to fix her mistake. She would rather stay home and throw a pity party than try and fight The Collector. Does she at least try to stop her friends? Try to save them from what appears to be certain doom for them, especially when by the time the way home is open, the world by all means could be gone. The Collector could have the Titan's Corpse be tap dancing for all they know due to how powerful he appears to be. No.

She barely decides in time to tell them she's not coming. Not that she gets to tell them but her reasoning? It's just that she might make it worse. Somehow make things worse than an entire world at the mercy of a homicidal child. And again, that's not exaggeration or hyperbole. By all we see, how it framed, how it is presented and how it is reacted to, The Collector just planned to murder them all in the skull playing tag. It doesn't matter if he doesn't know what death is, that is what he was going to do.

And this would be BAD by itself. Abhorrent and behavior that I don't think any person should ever even consider doing, let alone someone who claims to really be thinking about the consequences of their actions right now despite also deciding to make decisions all on her own while admitting she makes things worse by making decisions on her own. However, once on the Isles, it gets worse. She sees this totalitarian regime where people are literally puppets or terrified for their lives as roaming stars go around randomly turning people into puppets while The Collector uses the Isles as his stage. It's not as bad as it could have been but it's bad. It's very, VERY bad. No one here is going to be happy by the end of things unless someone does something. So what is Luz's plan? In public she says THEY'RE there to save the Isles which is true for her friends.

In private, to her mom, who is the only person who knows what she planned to do, she admits she plans to see if Eda and King are safe and then leave. Her friends' families? The people she knew but weren't close to? Just the basic fact that she has to look over the desecrated 'home' she once had that is clearly in need of repair? No. None of that matters. She's not here for them. She's just going to try and see if the people she cares about are safe, or better put the people she thinks were put in the worst positions due to her, and then leave. Simple as that.

She still planned to let it all burn and not to try to fix a damn thing, even as she told people, to their face, she was there to save the Isles and help them. In that moment, Luz betrays everyone. Period. She tells them all of their lives don't matter and that this is too much work. Because do you want to know how you fix a mistake? You learn from it, you try to set it right, and you do better.

You do not leave it to other people, let alone when you admit it ruined their entire lives. You especially don't do that when it is the easiest choice you could possibly make in the situation. At that point, you are a selfish monster who has shown yourself to not care about others and Luz doubled down on that fact.

This is why I say Luz left a world to die. Because she did. See you next tale.

======+++++======

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[spiralling-thoughts]

Loona would make an awful and abusive friend for Octavia

(Sorry if I might be rude and pity in this post , but this have been bothering me for so long and I feel like I should voice my opinion on the matter now disclaimer I mean no ill will towards anyone and I don't harass people who write about this idea neither should you this is just me voicing MY PERSONAL OPINION so are we cool here?)

So I have seen many and I mean MANY fanfics ,fanart,ect of the idea that loona would make an awesome older sister to Octavia and be her "first real friend who understands her " and some take it as far as shipping (sorry but the shipping aspect of this is really gross loona is 22 while Octavia is 17 this is pedophilia) now I will be honest I personally think this is sugar quoting and people giving loona to much credit, this woman is ABUSIVE (yes I said it she's a more accurate representation of abuse than stella and yes abusers could be traumatized victims) this woman beats and attacks her adoptive father who always shower showed her with affection and she knows hed get over it this is an extremely toxic trait, she kept insulting moxxie about being fat (even though he's a stick figure) until she gave him body image issues and she starts pity fights like how she did in queen bee now in what world would someone like this be a good older sister towards anyone?like imagine if Octavia asked loona to dial down her attitude a bit what would loona do? Would she listen to her NAH if she'd beat up her own father for that whose to say she wouldn't do the same for Octavia?, and their conversation in seeing stars....oh boy I was holding back trying not to throw my phone when this part came there are a bunch of posts about how nonsensical this part was but the long and short of it is that loona doesn't have any right to tell Octavia to put up with stolas when she herself treats her father poorly and she straight up lied to Octavia, stolas wasn't looking for her he was pathetically sitting around in the theatre getting thirsty over blitz and he wasn't all that freaked out that he's daughter ran away because of him, so loona literally gaslighted Octavia to apologise and come back to her neglectful father (yes for the millionths time stolas is neglectful) , this just makes their "friendship" all the more jarring and toxic, just because both are goth girls with daddy issues doesn't mean they will be instantly healthy friends their issues, upbringing, situations are completely different, Octavia is getting neglected by her father who constantly puts hes own desires before her will being and constantly makes her uncomfortable and constantly let her down and break his promises and from her perspective he ruined her home life, loona on the other hand is being rude and abusive towards her father who so far gave her affection, protection and while yes he was once over protective of her it's understandable considering where he got adopted her from yet even after all of that and after 5 years of being with him she still treats him poorly with only a few moments where she was nice to him and even then she resorts back to not caring about him and being rude and violent and she knows he'll get over it and come back to spoiling her, Octavia is getting emotionally abused by her father while loona is abusing her father THERE SITUATIONS ARE NOT THE SAME and now loona will basically glue Octavia onto her abuser while also probably abusing Octavia either emotionally, mentally, physically I don't see her at all as a kind or understanding or caring person she only act like that when it's convenient to the plot or as a moment to gaslight people into ignoring her awful actions , so yeah I don't think loona would at all be a good person for Octavia to hang out with under any circumstances she'd probably badly influence her and make her mental health worse than it already is , people go out of their way to make her act completely different from what she does in the show to make this s*** idea possible and that's another problem loona like stolas is coddled by the fandom and they always ignore how much of an awful person she actually is instead come up with excuses for her and try to make her look better than she actually is , I get the appeal people might get from this idea but I really don't like it or see it I feel like people are glossing over alot of issues with this whole situation

Thank you for coming to my rant

[marshmallowprotection]

"I wish it didn't hurt so much, Saeran."

You couldn't hide the truth from him even if you wanted to, but it was strange to adjust to someone who listened to your needs instead of... well, actively ignoring them. It wasn't nice to be ignored when all you wanted was some sympathy, not even a fix or a comfort, but it was a lot better to be ignored than it was to be judged, you learned.

Before you met him, you'd grown all too familiar with the pattern that never went away. You would confess how horrible you felt to another person, they would offer you their best wishes and perhaps a sincere suggestion on how to cut through the pain, and they would consider that to be a localized event.

Most people didn't have to deal with the pain you did on a daily basis, and for them, a little headache occurred once in a blue moon, but for you?

It was an everyday occurrence. You wouldn't be able to go one day without a migraine, and even if you did have a good day, it always... ended the same way. You ended up laying somewhere in a dark part of the house, praying to whatever God might've pitied you just enough to make the pain go from a seven to a three. You couldn't do all the things you needed to do when the pain took all of the energy you might've had otherwise.

Most people knew how to extend sympathy to another person on a bad day. But, they ran out of ways to offer comfort to someone who would never get better, likely only worse from that day forward. You weren't angry that people didn't know what to say, but... you felt so... isolated knowing that people stopped considering empathy towards you once they realized you had limitations that wouldn't heal the way a broken leg could in six to eight weeks.

But, with Saeran?

You didn't have to be afraid of being misunderstood. He knew what you meant when you said how bad it felt three days in a row. He was compassionate to a fault, always doing his best to understand more about other people, especially you. His health wasn't always the best, either, but he hadn't realized just how much he'd normalized that was not the typical experience of the average person.

For once in your life, you had someone in your corner who thought it was typical to be in this much pain all the time, and as relieving as it was to have someone who understood, you wished Saeran never had to experience the pain he did because of what the elixir did to him. It hadn't caused long-lasting damage, fortunately, but the doctors were honest in telling him that it'd take him months to come clean of what it did to his system.

He'd looked so mystified when he spoke to Yoosung and Zen in the chatroom the other day when the conversation of pain came up, too. He didn't realize that they didn't live their daily lives in pain like he had in Mint Eye or like you did in your day-to-day life. It wasn't average for them.

That perspective of theirs that contrasted against what he knew to be true? It truly shifted his understanding of how frustrated you felt when you had to stop what you were doing to escape the brunt of your pain. You could recall how clearly Ray spoke of his horrible pain, and how he ignored it until his vision was so spotty he had no choice but to lay his head down.

You stopped what you were doing because you couldn't push forward to the next task, but unlike Ray, you could stop. There was always the tiniest part of your heart that worried if he was envious of that, of the fact that you could slow down and close your eyes when he couldn't... when he wasn't ALLOWED to do the same.

But, Ray wasn't that kind of man, and neither was your Saeran. Just because you had a moment to breathe didn't mean they needed to be envious. The only person to blame for their worsened conditions had been Rika, after all.

As you rolled onto your side and buried your face in your hands, you couldn't hold back your tears. It wasn't bad enough that you couldn't muster the strength to say something, but it was bad enough that it felt impossible to hold your eyes open for longer than a second. That tension in your brow felt like it could burst at any moment. It was the kind of pain that festered for a while... rather than a type of pain that stayed for a few minutes and then disappeared.

A clenching, burning, and aching feeling in the back of your eyes that wouldn't go away.

You wanted it to go away so, so bad.

You were helpless to stop it. No amount of medication had cut into the pain before and the most you could do to help yourself was what you'd already done. The worst part about the migraine was that it cut into the date night you'd planned with Saeran a week ago. Instead of enjoying a nice dinner in the garden, you were huddled underneath a few blankets to block out as much light as humanly possible while he sat nearby.

Saeran didn't mind when you had to make a change of plans, but it didn't change the fact that you were frustrated with the pain. It was out of your hands, and yet, you wished it was in your hands. He had spent a good part of the afternoon putting together dinner, and you feared it might go to waste because of your headache. You were the one who wanted a special night, and now you couldn't make good on it.

You sniffled, huddling your face deeper into the blankets in the hopes that Saeran wouldn't notice.

He always did, though.

You felt his hand glide down your back. "My love, I know you're in a lot of pain tonight. I could tell you were uncomfortable earlier... But, most of all... I'm glad you were honest with me and said you couldn't sit up before you tried overdoing it."

You couldn't hold your head up when he tried talking to you from his spot in front of the stove. You folded your head into your arms while he told you about what he did when he ran errands. You tried so hard to listen to him, but when you stopped replying to him with the same gusto you normally did, he knew something wasn't right. You couldn't hide it.

There always came a point where you couldn't fake it until you made it.

"It's better we have a night-in tonight so you can rest. I may not be able to take the pain away, but I can surely make sure you don't feel alone."

That's what you'd told Ray once before.

He needed to hear it because he couldn't believe it. He always felt so bad when he couldn't make good on a promise because of his health. You hated to see him destroy himself just to make you happy. It was... it was hard to be happy when you knew he was tearing himself apart for your sake. You had the same bad habit, but it was something you were working on.

It just wasn't always easy when you felt this bad on a day when you made plans.

Twisting and fumbling around underneath the blankets with your hand, you sought out the comfort of his embrace, and before you had to strain your arm to find his hand, he interlaced your fingers together and brought your knuckles to his lips. "We can have date night any time, my love. Your comfort matters to me more than a meal. So, try not to beat yourself up, okay?"

He knew you too well.

The pain might not have gone away but at least you had Saeran to call your own.

"I'll try," you whispered.

[jjmorelikeotp]

Okay so I am watching BTVS for the first time in my life & I'm currently on season 6 E 14, and one thing I really really love is how Spike is just so...comitted.

With Angel, I personally had the feeling he was grieving the person he could be, all sad and sappy in his misery that kinda clung around him all the time (ik we're calling spike a drama queen but. THAT MAN? Depressed himbo vibes. No offense.) Even though he had a soul, there was this feeling of self pity in him - and it makes sense considering the fact he probably knew that one true moment of happiness would turn him back into a monster, and that is rly depressing tbh.

Does not change the fact that Buffy being underage when being with him is totally absurd and predatory, there, I said it.

He is kind of the big scary monster guy and sometimes she does seem like a normal 16 year old, and by that, naive or simply, young.

It made me feel like she was prey, not gonna lie.

It is what stopped him from truly comitting to Buffy. I mean yeah, their love was pure and they definetely are soulmates in some way. They truly affected each other's fate.

But this is where Spike is different than Angel as well. He is truly COMITTED to what he's doing, he is all in for buffy. Like, the way he offers to make money for her when she needs it? That offer is NOT a deal-kind-of-offer. He truly wants to help her and it is so casually because he already is in full partner mode, in whatever way she needs. Offering comfort when she has to work a double shift (yeah by fucking outside, mkay, just the spuffy way ig) like that because he is actually afraid she will lose her sanity? Even though they drive each other insane? Yeah these scenes are not talked about enough.

In that same scenario, Angel never even would have showed up. He would have waited in front of the building after Buffy ended her shift, maybe. He never even offered to be in her life like that, while both of them found a million excuses for it. But Spike does not. He just simply does stuff that COULD be the solution if he ever even thought of them being a problem.

And I think that is also why he's so pissed about Buffy going on and off about him - to Angel, she seemed so comitted, but to him, he just does not seem to be able to.

And again, it make sense, but I also think we don't talk enough about the fact that Buffy did indeed kill Angel, when it wasn't even necessary as in "he was soulless and a monster" anymore. Even though she loved him. But only when she had a really really good reason/purpose.

So one thing that might be also pushing her away from spike is the thought of having to do that again, and desperately trying to find the purpose without being able to.

He makes her choose wether she wants to be the prey or the hunter in this. On purpose. To show her her options and her power because she never really got to experience both sides / perspectives with Angel OR Riley.

So while she tries to figure out 1. Her reason why she should kill him (which should be a very very valid one so she can bring up the power to do so) 2. Her life's purpose in general, he just ... delivers purpose, not to her, but as in, her being the purpose. That's what he acts like and That's what she can't handle. Yes, she is the reason he is trying to change, but also, he puts her in the Position of being the purpose of him doing that.

Showing her the self responsibility and ability to be her own purpose and make her own decisions. (After her friends all kind of screwed up that kind of SELF responsibility.) He really does man up in this show, and like I said, these are just my thoughts watching it for the first time (did not see angel the series yet).

He is also holding her accountable even though he has a soft spot for her, and she is not used to that. She treats him like a man, yes, but he treats her like an equal as well and always has. She is used being looked down upon by adults or the council, enemies, blablablah, also her friends who "saved" her earlier this season, or being the superslayer hero and leader who has to do everything. She is always in positions. Even with angel, she was, it kind of stopped when they broke up but even then, he treats her like she does not know SHIT. Something is standing between them and always has been, and while Angel kind of used that as an excuse to keep distant and keep their walls up, Spike uses these exact walls as a reason or challenge to tear them down. Spike never acts like things are not his fault even if they are horrible, he just simply accepts his dark side while still having a normal one, with passions on tv and card games and whatever. He *subconciously* takes responsibility even before having a soul, for stuff he did, he doesn't blame his vampire side or whatever for it.

I think in subtext, Buffy always had a slight commitment to angel, as in "maybe, one day, it can still happen" while angel cut off all those hopes for himself (not his desires, maybe. But his ... solution oriented search or smth) as we can see when he visits her at her mom's funeral.

And one other reason why Buffy is so terrified of that whole Spike thing is because it makes her stop that hope for angel or resolve that feeling of being owned by (her feelings for) him.

And don't get me wrong, Spike is kinda possessive too, but as I see it he is trying to commit to a relationship where she can own herself and that is what terrifies her truly.

(That's what we see him do with drusilla from the beginning)

You understand what I mean? If you got thoughts on it let me know!