#so why not get a fuckin better religion in the mix???

[giantkillerjack]

In all my years, I've never seen a movie use non-christian pre-colonial religious imagery as a force of good against evil.

And the fact that in Wendall & Wild - a movie that takes place in a Catholic school, this type of imagery is portrayed as SO much more beautiful and powerful than the drab dreary Catholic imagery of the film... it was fuckin' rad as hell.

[hier--soir]

under the night | six

pairing: joel miller x f!reader, set in jackson after the end of tlou part I warnings/tags: [18+ minors DNI] language, being held captive, angst, serious violence, torture, injury, blood, discussions of murder, threat of sexual assault [DOES NOT HAPPEN], very brief discussion of religion/the bible, idk if you think i missed anything please let me know word count: 6k part five | series masterlist | main masterlist

Clink, clink.

Maria was drinking a cup of earl grey tea. The bergamot has a calming effect, she’d said, would you like a cup? Her spoon swirled in the teacup, bumping against the china every so often as she mixed in a sugar cube. The cup was pretty, a cream colour with pale pink gerbera flowers painted along the porcelain. Clink, clink; the spoon knocked the side of it again, the woman still unsatisfied by the granules of sugar visible in the dark liquid. It was the only sound in the room, bar the soft pattering of rain on the roof, as the four of them sat silently around Maria and Tommy’s dinner table.

Joel huffed in frustration as she finally lifted the spoon from the liquid and placed it gingerly on the saucer, before raising the cup to her mouth and taking her first sip. She sighed happily, relaxing in her chair as she savoured the taste.

“Okay,” she murmured, looking around the table.

“Oh, we can talk now?” Joel snapped, his exhaustion getting the better of him. “You’ve got your fuckin’ tea and now you’re ready?”

“Joel,” Tommy warned his brother quietly. “We’re all on the same side here.”

“Well, she could’ve fuckin’ fooled me,” he said spitefully in the woman’s direction. “It’s been days, and you haven’t ordered any searches, haven’t questioned anyone.”

Maria raised her hand to stop him, “It’s a delicate situation.”

“No, Joel’s right,” Cal spoke up. The bags under his eyes were heavy, hair greasy and slicked back off his forehead; the appearance of a man who hadn’t slept in days. “You run things here, and I always thought you did a damn good job of it too. But she’s gone missing, and you’re just sitting back and waiting? For what?” 

“Things are returning to normal here,” she said lowly. “People are calming down, and I don’t want to raise any alarm bells if I don’t need to.”

“What the fuck is that supposed to mean?” Joel all but snarled.

“It means that I wouldn’t be surprised if she chose to leave,” she levelled at him, one eyebrow raised accusatorially. Clink, clink. He flinched as she dipped her spoon back into the cup, tapping it against the rim. “Ellie told me.”

Joel’s eyes darkened, his hand forming a fist below the table. “Told you what exactly?” 

Maria gave him a conspiratorial look. “She told me about being strangled, Joel. She came here a few days ago, upset after hearing the news, and we talked. Ellie worries that she might have left out of guilt… and I must admit, I wouldn’t be surprised if that were true.”

“Wait,” Cal’s eyebrows raised in alarm, eyes darting between Maria and Joel. “What the fuck are you talki-“

“No one was fuckin’ strangled,” Joel ground out, doing his best to stay calm. “Ellie wasn’t hurt. And she wouldn’t fuckin’ leave us; there’s no god damn way she’d even think to go outside those gates alone.”

Joel’s mouth twisted into a pained grimace at Maria’s insinuation, shaking his head jerkily. The last conversation he’d had with you played on his head in a constant loop, the image of your face distorted in despair, the feeling of your guilty tears on his neck – it tormented him. Kept him awake all night, and on edge all day. The idea that you might have decided to leave, out of a misplaced sense of guilt, or fear, or… or because of something he’d said. His chest tightened at the thought. He’d told you not to stay at the house if he wasn’t there, hadn’t he? That’s why you’d gone home alone that night, instead of coming back to him. It won’t happen again, is what you said. Joel mulled the words over in his mind endlessly, searching for a hidden meaning in your tone that he might have missed; a plan to leave him.

Tommy watched the three of them silently, the corners of his mouth downturned in dismay. To see Joel be so distraught was hard for him. Ellie had confided in Tommy that Joel had hardly spoken for the past three days. That he wasn’t sleeping, wasn’t eating. She kept a close eye on him and didn’t pry; simply sat quietly in whatever room he resided in, and just kept a watchful eye on him. Tommy couldn’t thank her enough for it. He’d watched his brother experience so much loss, so much heartache, and he cringed to realise they were witnessing it happen to him all over again.

“She wouldn’t leave me,” Cal broke the silence, his voice cracking on the last word. He reached up hastily to wipe the corner of his eye. “We made an agreement when we first got here. If either one of us decides we aren’t happy, then we leave – together. No questions asked. She wouldn’t break a promise.”

Joel glanced at the younger man, absorbing his words with a blank expression. It still unnerved him sometimes; to gain further insights into the tightknit bond between you and Cal, but he pushed all negative feelings down, knowing the he was right.

“She’s still in Jackson,” Joel said with a tone of finality, straightening his shoulders.

“So what do you suggest we do?” Maria asked. “I’ve already asked so much of our community, I don’t know where I’m supposed to go from here.”

“Some fuckin’ community it is,” he muttered. “Women gettin’ stolen out of their god damn homes.”

Tommy gave him a look that said, not helpful. Joel ignored him.

“We question them – all of them,” he asserted. “Ransack every fuckin’ house in this town if we have to. She’s here somewhere – whoever’s doin’ this can’t keep her hidden for long.”

Maria nodded slowly, sparing a short glance in her husband’s direction. “We’ll question people then. If we go to the right ones, someone is bound to spill something.”

Tommy stared at his brother, taking in the way he stared intensely at the woman. “You can’t be a part of it though,” he said softly. Joel’s head snapped in his direction, eyes narrowing.

“Tommy,” he glared, only to be quickly interrupted.

“You’re too high strung, both of you are,” Tommy said, glancing between Joel and Cal. “If you’re out there knockin’ down doors, you’re just gonna scare people off, and somebody will get hurt. We can’t risk you two causing a scene.”

“We can’t just sit around and do nothing,” Cal grunted, hand smacking down on the table.

“You won’t be,” Maria said firmly. “Someone needs to be waiting if she shows up. So wait. If she shows up at either of your homes, you’ll be there.”

“You’re fuckin’ delusional if you thin-“

“Stop,” Maria interrupted softly. “Have either of you taken a moment to consider it might already be too late? It’s been three days… Do you really want to be the ones to find her if she’s…. I’m trying to keep you both separated from this, for your sakes.”

“I’m not fuckin’ listenin’ to this,” Joel grunted, pushing his chair from the table and stalking towards the front door. With his hand gripping the doorknob, he turned his head to the side, staring back at them from the corner of a tear-filled eye.

“She is out there somewhere, alive, puttin’ up a goddamn fight. And when I find her,” he spoke with his back to them, voice dangerously quiet. “I’m going to kill everyone who had anything to do with this. And you two won’t be able to stop me.”

Joel didn’t need to look at him to know that Cal agreed.

The curtains were always the first thing you saw. When your eyelids managed to crack open, to break through the dried blood that crusted over your eyelashes, you would always notice them first. Large, bundled drapes that reached the floor, covering the walls, concealing the windows and any potential natural light. It was so dark all of the time, and so time had lost meaning. You couldn’t tell how many hours, or days, had passed. All you knew was that the curtains, made from a dark fabric, with pictures of small birds sewn onto them, were the first thing you saw every time you opened your eyes.

Sparrows, the thought whispered through your mind. Little sparrows sewn into the curtains.

A small metal table was positioned in the corner opposite to where you laid on a thin mattress, arms tied to a pipe protruding from the wall. Sometimes your eyes flickered to it, trying to glean what was on it, but it was futile because of the distance. Candles were placed sporadically around the edges of the room, providing a vague yellow light to the space which allowed you see these things. But no natural light meant not knowing when the sun rose and fell., so you learned to rely on a different schedule. Twice a day he would bring a meal into the room, and you did your best to note the time passing, but even that provided little relief. Dehydration and pain had you dropping in and out of consciousness, and you rejoiced in the respite that sleep brought. Sleep brought quiet. Waking, however, brought with it a stark reminder of where you were.

An unpleasant stretching sensation resided in your arms. The muscles burned from hyperextension from constantly stretching behind you to the wall, your hands numb from a lack of blood flow due to how taught the rope around your wrist was pulled. But no matter how uncomfortable, you never turned your back to the door. That way he couldn’t enter the room without you seeing him immediately.

The throbbing in your foot, and the smell of metal was always what you noticed next. Blood stained the lower half of the mattress, and you did your best not to look down. But the smell was overwhelming, and you knew you had to see how much blood you’d lost. Your right foot was caked in dried blood, and the sight of one of your toes missing was enough to make your stomach curl every time, as waves of violent nausea rolled through you.

“That’s fine,” you whispered hoarsely, attempting to convince yourself. “Never used that one anyway, can live without it.”

Talking to yourself helped. Although your thoughts were often delirious and half-baked, hearing your own voice out loud brought a certain sense of calm.

And you’d formed a routine. Where every time you woke, you calmed your breathing, and forced yourself to decide how you were going to behave. How to survive another encounter with him. You’d chosen violence the first time, and you came to sorely regret it.

He’d been watching you that first day; waiting for you to stir. It had been dark, but you still saw him instantly. Cross-legged on the floor beside the mattress you laid on, dark beady eyes bearing down on your skin like weights. The itchy burn of rope against your wrists wasn’t as noticeable at first, for you were distracted by the thick wad of material in your mouth, placed there to keep you silent. When your brain had fully woken up, you’d glared at him in a wide-eyed panic, moaning urgently against the cloth between your teeth, tears brimming in your eyes. No, no, no, no.

“Shh,” Lincoln had murmured, brushing the hair out of your eyes. “It’s okay, shh.”

Tentatively, he reached down and tugged the cloth out of your mouth. You sucked in sharp panicked breaths, staring up at him as the feeling of white-hot terror spread through your veins, all the way from your neck down to your feet. It was him. All along, all the women, it had been him. This embarrassing, weak man, who’d had you fucking fooled. You’d thought him a creep, but not this. Never this.

“Breathe,” he’d whispered, stroking your cheek with his fingers. Heaving sighs tore out of your mouth, and you turned your head in his hold, brushing your nose along the palm of his hand. His eyes shone with appreciation at the gesture, and he smiled. “You’re here with me now. It’s just you and me.”

Holding his gaze for a split second longer, you sank your teeth into the flesh of his hand. He shouted in pain, attempted to pull back, but you bit him harder, deeper. The taste of metal filled hit your tongue, but you didn’t let go until his other hand struck you across the face, knocking you back.

He'd hit your left side, and the all-too-familiar buzzing soared through your ear, exacerbating the pounding in your skull. “You cunt,” he spat, rising to his feet. He glared down at you, cradling his wounded hand against his chest.

And then his foot was slamming into your ribcage. “You stupid,” kick “fucking” kick “cunt” kick. The breath left your body, and you curled in on yourself on the thin mattress, wheezing, until he gave up.

“You won’t do that again,” his reedy voice called out from behind you. “Do you understand?”

Your back was to him, eyes clamped shut as you tried desperately to regulate your breathing. A stabbing pain burned in your right side, flaring every time your chest expanded with a breath. His hand came down on your shoulder, flattening you on the mattress.

“Speak,” he had snarled. “You will answer me when I talk to you, SPEAK.”

Your bloody lips stayed sealed in defiance, glaring up at him. Slowly, the corners of his mouth began to turn upward, lips stretching open to reveal a faded set of crooked teeth until he was grinning down at you. “Okay,” he nodded, reaching into his pocket and walking to the end of the mattress. “You want to see what happens when you disobey me in my house? I’ll show you what happens.”

It had been quick.

Flashes of it were burnt into your memory, but the feeling of the moment evaded you when you thought back on it. Him kneeling on your shins, saying “Do as I say, or I’ll clip your wings, little bird.” Pliers in his hand. The feeling of the cold metal on your foot. The smell of iron. A pinkie toe on the floor, by the mattress, in a crimson puddle.

Your hoarse, tormented wails had filled the room so suddenly that Lincoln was cursing while he stuffed the rag back between your lips, muttering something about people hearing you.

He had loomed over you, torso pressed against yours, gritting his teeth and laughing. Put his hands around your neck and whispered of the stories he’d heard about you, that he’d wondered about you since the day Tommy introduced him to you. “I think that was the moment I decided,” he said. “The moment I knew you were going to be mine – it was the very first time I saw you.”

“I wanted to know what he saw in you,” he’d jeered, breath hot against your neck. His hand gripped your throat, squeezing your windpipe intermittently, only ever letting up when your eyes started to roll back and the pressure inside your skull from a lack of oxygen started to become unbearable, only to increase the pressure again once you’d had a few seconds to breathe. “I’d always thought you must be a good lay, if you’ve got big bad Joel Miller whipped like a dog. Realised pretty damn quick I’d have to find out for myself.” Your arms fought tirelessly against the ropes that bound you to the wall, limbs thrashing beneath him, trying to inflict any sort of pain on him.

You frantically mouthed the word no around the rag, lungs heaving in search of oxygen. The last thing you saw before you passed out was his haunting grin.

And you were smarter after that.

Lincoln was hard to read. When he came to the room next, he acted as though the altercation had never happened. And so you followed suit. You listened when he spoke, and answered accordingly. You ate the food he slid across the floor to you. You held in a disgusted reaction when he gestured to the candles around the room one time, and said, “Romantic isn’t it? Candlelit dinner for two?”  

In the quiet moments, your mind would float away, and you’d allow yourself brief moments of respite, imagining that you were somewhere, anywhere, else. In your dreams, you were with Joel. Safe in his home, in his bed, playing scrabble with Ellie on his porch while he kept score. You tried to remember the way his laugh sounded, or the way his hands felt on your skin. But everything was warped, the memories unclear. Your brain lacked clarity, and the pain distracted you. And Lincoln could tell where your thoughts went in those moments; you almost feared he could read your mind. As if your brain was splayed open before him, and he was pecking at it in curiosity.

“No one will find you,” he’d say softly. Never nastily, but in a tone that was matter of fact. “They aren’t coming for you. It’s just you and me now, sweet girl.”

You would blink away the tears in your eyes and try not to let him see how afraid you were that he was right. Your memories with Joel felt so hazy, and the last time you’d seen him he had been devastated. He feared what you’d almost done to Ellie, feared how out of his control it had been. Maybe it’s for the best, the thought raced through your brain. Maybe they’ll be happier without you.

Those thoughts were the hardest to shake. And they cut deeper than any injury Lincoln could ever inflict.

One night, when it felt like almost a week had passed, Lincoln entered the room holding two plates.

“Dinner time,” his thin voiced called, and a chill ran down your spine. Slowly, you pushed yourself into a seated position, cringing as pain shot through your side.

He placed a plate beside the mattress before tenderly undoing the rope around your left wrist.

“Eat up,” he murmured, taking a few steps back before settling onto the ground and picking up his fork.

You gazed down at the raw red marks around your wrist, basking in your favourite moment of the day – just a few sweet minutes of ‘freedom’. With an aching chest, you saw what rested on the plate. A kind of dark meat, and a small serving of parsnips.

Oh, Joel.

Sucking your lips into you mouth, you willed the tears in your eyes to dry up, desperate not to let him see any sign of weakness.

Out of the corner of your eye you noticed Lincoln reaching out across the space between you, and then he placed his thumb and forefinger over the big toe on your right foot, squeezing it once in a silent threat. Your throat tightened, and you resisted the urge to pull away. Speak.

“Why are you doing this?” you whispered hoarsely, staring at the food.

“It’s dinner time, when else would I feed you?” he attempted to joke, hand leaving your foot to pick his fork up again. When you didn’t respond the smile slipped off his face. “You’re in a bad mood today,” he decided. “I suppose I understand.”

He watched you like a hawk, eyes raking over your features, your bloodstained clothes, the way you gazed despondently at the plate before you. “Surely you can appreciate though… I mean, it’s just… delightful, don’t you see? To see someone be brought down to their basest human form. No sunlight, minimal human interaction. You rely on me for water, for food, for company. I am all you have anymore, and it is simply… delicious.”

“You’re a fucking sadist,” you shuddered involuntarily, his words making goosebumps break out across your skin. 

“I think so,” Lincoln nodded contemplatively. “It’s not inherently sexual though, I’ll have you know.” You stared, and he let out a low chuckle, hands raising defensively. “Not entirely, at least.”

“You’ll get caught,” you sneered, ignoring the way a cut on your upper lip reopened when your mouth pulled open to reveal your teeth. “You’ll slip up and someone will notice. Joel will notice.”

“Only time will tell,” he mused around a mouthful of food. “Never been caught before though, have I? Not with Milena, or any of the others before you. Not even with my wife; although it was certainly easier to get away with it in those days. The world had gone to shit – everyone was going missing; assumed to be dead or infected. It was so easy. Our girls never had a clue. They trusted me, you see? My beautiful little birds. Believed me when I told them she was lost, that she must’ve been infected. I think that’s what I adore the most – the trust. It was hard to come by here, in Jackson. People were so wary, I had to build up their confidence in me. Really ease into things, you know? But some of these women, they just saw what they wanted to see. A few kind smiles, some silly jokes, and they were mine.” Lincoln sighed wistfully, gazing absentmindedly at the curtains. “Do you like them?” he changed the subject suddenly. “They’re sparrows. Sewed them on myself.” Good God, he was still so fucking chatty.

Nausea twisted in your abdomen. Acidic bile burned in the back of your throat, threatening to bring up the pathetic contents of your stomach. “And your daughters?” you hesitated, wary of angering him. “I… I remember you saying they died.”

He paused with his fork halfway to his mouth, and you noticed one of his eyebrows twitch at the mention of his late children. “I let them go quickly,” he exhaled with a shrug. “Painlessly. It didn’t make sense to make them endure this world anymore. It was a mercy, if anything.”

“Fresh out of mercy then?” you asked bitterly. “If you’re so kind, and so fucking merciful, then why the are you dragging this out? Why won’t you just fucking end it?”

Fork dropping onto his plate with a loud clang, Lincoln murmured your name kindly. “Please understand,” he said. “I don’t know when I’ll get the chance again. You might be my last for a few months… so I’m trying to savour every minute I have with you.”

You stared at him, blinking slowly as you absorbed his words. How long could you possibly survive down here in these conditions? But the truth was, you knew the answer to that. You knew because you’d survived for years out in the open, with less food and less water than this. Here you had shelter, warmth, food, and water. He could keep you alive for as long as he wanted you.

Realising it had been some time since you responded to him you offered a meek smile and said, “Tell me more about the sparrows.”

Lincoln looked at you curiously. Trying not to appear uncertain, you reached forward and scooped some food from the plate with your free hand and began to eat. The action alone reminded you of Cal. Of dark nights, huddled together in dusty broken-down buildings, eating whatever food you’d been able to find out of the palms of your hands. You sniffled pathetically and tried not to think about him again.

“Good girl,” he murmured almost inaudibly, and you fought off a shiver. Swallowing made your chest ache. Based on the swelling around the middle of your torso, you assumed at least one of your ribs was broken. Even inhaling brought a sharp pain to your right side, but swallowing? That was a whole other world of pain.

Lincoln spoke about the birds, told you how they symbolised joy and simplicity, and your eyes flitted around the room, taking in as much as you could in the dim yellow light. And then suddenly, he was turning his head fully to stare at the curtains. His back was almost entirely to you, and your heart stuttered painfully at the opportunity that had presented itself. From this angle, you were sure he wouldn’t be able to see you in his peripheral vision. Was this on purpose? Was it a test? Heart pounding, you worked silently to push the remaining food off your ceramic plate and onto the floor. Eyes focused on him, you waited for him to turn back, to check in on you, to do anything – but he didn’t.

“You know in the bible,” he said thoughtfully. “Sparrows represented God’s love and care for his creations.”

You hummed in response, gripping the plate in your hand and edging forward. Sweat tickled your forward, made your skin itch. You wanted to wipe away the fresh blood that had oozed from your lip onto your chin, but you refrained. No sudden movements. He was so close now, and this chance would not be wasted on you.

Do not be afraid, you thought.

Blood rushed in your ears as you propelled yourself forward, smashing the plate down upon the crown of his skull.

Lincoln pitched forward, his face knocking against the cold ground with a sickening thwack. He howled a ragged, guttural noise of pain, but his movements were sluggish, his reaction time too slow. A fiery pain roared in your side from the movement and you whimpered, dropping the jagged shard of the plate that remained in your hand. Gripping his ankle, you cried out at the strength required to tug his body toward you. He was writhing on the ground, trying to fight against the fog in his brain no doubt, but you pulled him still, until he was perfectly close.

He mumbled your name, and you brought your fist down over his nose, effectively shutting him up.

“Stop fucking saying my name,” you growled, angrily swiping perspiration off your upper lip. This was it. If this didn’t work out, if he regained the upper hand, you’d be dead, no questions asked. You’d started this, and now would certainly be your only chance to finish it. God, your ribs were on fire. You hastily dragged a fragment of the plate in a sawing movement across the rope keeping your other wrist tied, and when it broke away, you heaved a painful sigh of relief.

Planting your knees on either side of his body, you straddled his chest, trapping his arms to his torso. You patted down his body, searching his pockets until you found what you were looking for. The pliers were cold and heavy in your hand. Lincoln blinked lazily, gazing past your shoulder at the roof.

You reached down and gripped the sides of his head. “Look at me,” you seethed, before slamming his head back into the ground. He groaned loudly, but his eyes focused on your face. Blood poured from his nose, spilling into his open mouth and filling the gaps between tooth and gum.

“You won’t kill me,” he garbled out around the crimson liquid. “My little bird… I know you wouldn’t kill me.”

“Stop talking,” you moved to be beside his body and pressed your knee onto his left arm.

“You won’t,” he was speaking incessantly now, rambling. “I know you, you’re good. You’re so good, you sweet girl. You wouldn’t kill, and that’s why I like you. I could see it in you. You’re too good for this world, I’m trying to help you, don’t you see?”

“Shut up,” you snarled, pushing the pliers down until they were positioned around his pinkie finger. “You think you fucking know me? You have no idea of the things I’ve done.”

His eyes blinked lazily, trying listlessly to focus. His free hand reached sluggishly towards your face, and you batted it down roughly. Gripping the pliers in both hands, you pressed down. The sound of his screams filled the room as his pinkie finger rolled across the floor.

“You want me to come into my home,” you sneered. “Take me, hide me away, and then kill me?” Positioning the tool over his ring finger, you cut him slowly, revelling in the pained sounds leaving his body, the way his blood spilled onto your hands as you worked. “Oh, Lincoln. You’ll have to try harder than this.”

Again and again, you worked with a gruellingly slow pace, removing all five digits. You didn’t notice that his free hand was gripping your arm so tightly that his nails had drawn blood. Bile rose in your throat, but you swallowed it down. Do not be afraid.

“Please,” he was sobbing, his mouth wide open like a sore on his face, jagged teeth exposed through thin bloody lips.

And yet as he begged, you couldn’t bring yourself to feel remorse, because through the tears, and the snot, and the blood, it wasn’t just Lincoln that you saw. It was that boy, from a decade ago. That boy that climbed on top of you and laughed. Who enjoyed your fear. Who held you down that night, and every night after, plaguing you in your sleep for years. The boy you couldn’t fight. The boy you couldn’t kill. You wouldn’t let it happen again. Never again.

A memory flitted through your mind so quickly it almost didn’t register. But his voice was clear in your head. Joel, and the words you’d shared in front of the fireplace at your home so many weeks beforehand.

“I want to be strong, Joel.”

“You are strong.”

You refocused on Lincoln’s face.

“You want to be in control?” you sputtered, vaguely aware of how deranged your shrill voice sounded. “You want women to be quiet little toys for you to play with in this sick game you’ve created? I’m a fucking person! I’m real!” your voice cracked. “You want to kill me, Lincoln? Let’s see you do it without your fucking fingers.” You realised then that you were crying. Soundless tears streaked down your cheeks, leaving clear trails in the dirt and blood that stained your face.  

He looked on the verge of passing out, and you tore his hand off your arm, stumbling away from his body. You stepped awkwardly on your right foot and yelped in pain, grimacing at the bloody footprint that followed behind you when you walked. Wrapping an arm around your torso, against your ribs, you struggled to breathe. Running on pure adrenaline, your eyes drifted toward the table in the corner. A pocketknife and a lighter laid serenely on the top of it, and you stumbled toward it slowly.  

But a heavy blow landed on the back of your knee, stopping you in your tracks. Your arms flailed as you fell forward, and when you hit the ground, the table came toppling down with you.

“S-stop,” Lincoln was speaking, his speech slurred and disjointed. His bloodied hands clawed at your legs, pulling your body towards him while you thrashed against his hold. Your leg kicked backward desperately and connected with his face, and you screamed at the throbbing pain that shot through your foot.

Neither of you noticed how the table had knocked over multiple candles, or the way fire blazed along the bottom of the curtains. Little sparrows, turning to ash as flames snaked their way up the drapes, slowly engulfing the walls of the room in vibrant red.

You fumbled for the pocketknife on the floor, rolling onto your back just as his weight landed on top of you. His heavy breaths hit your face, blood dripping from his nose and splashing onto your skin.

“Little bird,” he whimpered brokenly. “Why would you ruin this?”

The temperature in the room had risen exponentially, and the pair of you were so close to the wall that it was impossible to ignore now. Wild flames licked at the bare skin of your arm, but you paid the burn no mind, pushing against his face, his neck, trying to get as much distance between you as possible.

“This isn’t how it was supposed to be,” he howled, landing a heavy blow across your face. You coughed roughly, blood spitting up from your mouth onto your chin.

You gave up on pushing him back, instead using your hands to fumble with the knife. Lincoln’s good hand gripped your throat, his remaining fingers pressing down on your windpipe. Blood roared in your ears, and you were sweating, and god it was so hot. The air thickened with smoke, making it harder to breathe than it already was. Your hands were so slick with blood that it was difficult to unhook the small blade, but after a few moments you did it. Gasping for air as he bore his entire weight against your neck, you plunged the knife into his side.

A choked sound of surprise fell from his mouth, and then air was rushing into your lungs, and you were coughing harshly, watching as his body collapsed to the side of you.

He was still alive when you crawled on top of him, eyes bulging as he gripped the handle of the blade lodged in his side. You slammed your fist against his broken nose, and both of you cried out in pain. By this point, the fire was roaring through the room, the four walls covered in a beautiful mix of orange and red flames. The heat was sweltering, and so so close that sweat dripped from your nose and chin.

A deafening bang reverberated through the room and you covered your face instinctively. Shattered glass from the windows rained through the air and covered the ground, and moonlight streamed into the room.

Distantly, you thought you could hear voices, or the sound of a door opening, but you ignored it. Impossible. Your fingers wrapped around Lincoln’s spindly neck, and you positioned your thumbs over his windpipe, before pressing downward with all of the strength in your body. Exhaustion weighed heavily on you, but you pushed through it, gathering blood and spit in your mouth and releasing it in a spray onto his face. He flinched back at the sensation, and you grinned messily.

You imagined briefly what you must look like; covered in a mix of blood and dirt, hair matted to your head, straddling this man, and grinning down at him.

“Are you afraid?” you whispered.

You could see the light slowly fading from his eyes, and you pressed harder, arms burning with the effort. A burning sensation exploded in your left thigh, but you ignored it, digging your elbows into his chest for leverage and pushing. In the second you realised it was about to be over, there were hands on you. Gripping you, wrapping around your waist, wrenching you away from him.

The foreign hands were pulling you back, tugging you towards the door, but your eyes were trained on Lincoln, as he gasped for air on the floor, alive. You could hear shouting, male voices yelling so closely, but the words were indecipherable. And then suddenly, you were enveloped by cold, winter air. You were outside.

Hyperventilating, you dropped to your knees on the ground, burying your red hands in the wet grass, and wailed. Thick tears blurred your vision and rolled down your face in hot rivulets.

The relief was short lived though, as those hands returned to your body. Gliding over your back, squeezing your shoulders, touching your face. Your stomach rolled violently.

“Don’t touch me,” you begged, your voice an unfamiliar shriek as it ripped from somewhere deep inside your body. “Get your fucking hands off me, don’t fucking touch me, don-“

“Darlin’, it’s me, it’s me,” you could hear, but you just fought harder, beating against the solid wall of brick in front of you, pounding your fists against his chest.

“I’ll fucking,” you gasped for air, eyes clamped tightly shut. “I’ll fucking kill you, get away from me.”

But familiar hands were gripping your face, holding you tightly, forcing you to look, and when you did, it’s like your body went limp. All the fight in you disappeared.

You mumbled his name, and he nodded furiously, those brown eyes you loved gazing into yours, panic and concern evident in the harsh lines across his forehead, in that deep frown you knew so well.

“It’s me, baby, I’ve got you,” his voice was like a song in your ears, and you closed your eyes and let him hold you, listening to the desperate apologies he whispered into your ear. “You’re safe, I’m so sorry, I’m so fuckin’ sorry. I’ve got you now, it’s over, it’s over.”

part seven

tag list <3

@huffle-punk @n7cje @ghostofjoharvelle @nrmnie @sarahhxx03 @casa-boiardi @leeeesahhh @missgurrl

[death-limes]

Say, which characters in HB and HH do you hate the most character wise and then design wise

OHHH MAN i could write an entire video essay about this topic lmao, let me try to be as brief as possible

~~~

Hazbin - Worst Character: This one's hard, there are a few characters who probably suck but I just don't know that much about them. But based on what I know now, honestly…? Charlie. Coinsidering that… I think Faustisse?… confirmed that she's over 200 years old, the sheer level of naivete on her part is just annoying and unbelievable. She's over twice as old as Alastor, she should not be swayed so easily by him. As far as I'm aware she's not in a Disney Princess situation where she was shut inside the castle walls her entire life (PLEASE correct me if I'm wrong on that though) so there's no reason why she shouldn't be at least a little savvy to the ways of sinner demons. She should also have been able to see the VERY OBVIOUS SIGNS that Vaggie used to be an exorcist. Even Carmilla comments that it's super fuckin obvious; the Princess of Hell herself should be knowledgeable enough to pick up on hints that even the fandom picked up on when it was just the pilot. Overall, Charlie just comes across as kinda stupid imo. I don't find myself rooting for her at all.

Hazbin - Worst Design: Alastor. I know he may not necessarily look the worst, and I do in fact simp for him, but his design does absolutely NOTHING that a character design is supposed to do. Namely, it doesn't tell us anything about him & it doesn't help him stand out from the cast. Nothing about his design is uniquely 1930s (nobody wore their hair like that, pinstripe suits started in the 1800s and continue to be popular today, monocles were more of an 1800s thing and were considered old-fashioned by the 30s) or deer-esque (his ears really do not look like dear ears at all, and his "antlers" are just microscopic salad forks that don't even show up on his silhouette). The whole Voodoo thing, aside from being super disrespectful to a literal religion that is still actively practiced, is also so inconsequential to his character that it can be removed entirely and change NOTHING about him. Any of his traits that are in line with the Voodoo thing can still exist without it -- him being a trickster and a dealmaker, mostly. All the blacklight stuff doesn't match his aesthetic at all: in Princess and the Frog where everything was 1920s it gave a magic effect, but in Hazbin where all different time periods comingle it just gives a raver effect, which doesn't fit his anti-modern preferences at all. Also the living-shadow thing is yet another direct ripoff from Dr. Facilier (that might just be in the pilot though I'm not sure), I think the living microphone is a better route to take if you want him to have a spiritual companion type of thing; it's more relevant to his theming and more original. And of course none of this even touches on the "he's half-black" bullshit excuse that only came after V*v received backlash about the Voodoo thing. And it doesn't even solve the issue anyway. A mixed-race man from the 1930s would make for a very interesting character IF that unique experience/identity was actually integrated into his character in any noticeable way, but it's not. It was just slapped on at the last minute. Ugh. I could write an entire essay about Alastor alone tbh.

Helluva - Worst Character: Fizzarolli, but mostly when he was first introduced. Aesthetically he's the closest thing that I have to a "blorbo" in this show, but in the Ozzie's episode he just gave me the most rancid vibes ever. Definitely a "asexuality doesn't exist, you just haven't been with ME yet~" type of person. Admittedly that's more of a personal preference thing and less of a poor characterization; they're in the Lust ring, that type of attitude is kind of expected. What IS poor characterization, however, is his "development" later on when he and Ozzie basically get their own arc. His entire personality changes to be much softer and like…. idk, very obviously a trauma VICTIM and not so much of a potential trauma CAUSER? His character is not nearly as abrasive, but there's no corresponding event that would cause such a change. It just seems like now that he's supposed to be a sympathetic character, they changed his personality to be more appealing. He's not nearly as mean and rude as he used to be. Ozzie has a similar thing going on but it's not quiiiiite as severe, and he's saved from being the Worst by having a far more interesting and unique design. (If you had asked who I think has the BEST design in Helluva, I'd probably say Ozzie.)

Helluva - Worst Design: Beelzebub, no contest. A lot of people seemed to have a problem with her being bee-themed instead of fly-themed like the real Beelzebub in demonology, but that honestly doesn't bother me; I'm not expecting any Hellaverse stuff to be super accurate to The Real Lore so any tiny reference they can slip in (like with Ozzie's design) is just gravy. To me, bee and fly are close enough, I think it counts as a reference. Plus, the bee theme goes well with Gluttony ("nectar" is a common synonym for delicious food) and calling her Queen Bee is an easy way to make her name more appealing/sexy than, yknow. "Beelzebub." What DOES bother me is her canine aspect. Why is she a sparkledog? What is the logic behind that? Why isn't she huge-by-default like Ozzie and Mammon? (You'd think GLUTTONY of all sins would be a big character!) It really just feels like V*v wanted Ke$ha to have a cameo role as a major character and just arbitrarily picked one of the sins for her to be. So the character design has Ke$ha in mind faaaaar more than it has Beelzebub in mind. ***(Funny thing about Queen Bee: for a solid week after her episode came out, I was actually fooled by this page from an RP wiki: [https://hazbin-hotel-and-helluva-boss-rp.fandom.com/wiki/Beelzebub] The explanation that I'd gleaned for this version of her is that the picture shown is the REAL Beelzebub, and the one we see in the show is her daughter by the lord of Hellhounds, Cerberus, which explains her canine features. Queen Bee Jr. is the heiress to her mom's title in the same way Charlie is the heiress to Lucifer's title. The picture shown on that page is just SUCH a better design, and it looks like the show's style, and she seems to be a giant like Ozzie and Mammon…. can you blame me for being like "OH that makes sense!!" Cut to me a week later finding out this is just a fan RP wiki. Siiiigh.)

[prettyboykatsuki]

»» — { ♡ } —— { ♡ } —— { ♡ } — ««

into it | k. bakugou 

➳ tags ;; smut, praise kink (so much praise kink),d/s undertones, dumbification fem!reader, unprotected, mild dacryphilia (what else do we expect lol), pro-hero!katsuki

➳ wc ;; 1.5k

➳ a/n ;; my period came n it’s My Day so im posting this. sorry if i’m a little rusty! i haven’t written any nsfw since like? march.

»» — { ♡ } —— { ♡ } —— { ♡ } — ««

He know he’s spoiled you rotten. 

He knows this fact better than anyone else in the entire world. It didn’t matter how obvious it was to others, he knew it and he knew it well. The way Bakugou Katsuki finds himself stuck by your side leaves him with more questions and answers. He’s developed quite the habit of listening to your every word, clinging off your little attention and praise like it was more important than anything else. 

In a way, it was. That feeling he gets in his stomach, the pride in his chest when you bat long lashes at him and say “katsuki” the way only you ever could. You’ve got a grip on his being like nothing else. The world could be falling apart but he knows in his head he would be worrying about his baby. 

He knows he’s in love and he’s strong enough to admit it. But there’s a difference between being in loved and being whipped beyond belief or comparison. He’s indefinitely the latter.

He’s whipped out of his fucking mind. It’s ridiculous and gets more ridiculous as the days pass. The way he pours so much energy into leaving you spoiled and sated. He was always the asshole, the tough guy - but these days he questions himself for just how soft he’s gone. 

For you and only you. If anyone else had half the attitude you had with him, he’d probably rock their shit. With you, he merely sighs - grabs your face with strong hands and goes “why you bein so bratty huh?” until you’re confessing all your sins to him. It’s a religion of sorts, practice of worship. If you’re an altar, Katsuki feels like follower. Disobedience to your desires has always felt like sacrilege. 

Bakugou knows he spoils you too much. You’re not much for material but when it comes to time and attention, he’s always making room for you. Sits you in his lap while he works as long as you behave (lets you stay even if you don’t). Comes home to you. Doesn’t go out unless he’s sure you won’t be lonely. 

You didn’t particularly ask for any of it. You’re eager to let him be, but him? He seethes at the idea you’re getting your daily dose of love from anyone else. Turn his blood hot under his skin, makes his mind feel like it can’t sit still. 

So you’re spoiled rotten whether you like it or not. Bakugou would be damned if anyone came near you with the intentions of what he always intends too. 

You’re spoiled, to put it plainly. But Bakugou can’t say he hates it, no matter how much he tries 

{ ♡ } —— { ♡ } —— { ♡ } 

“Such a spoiled fuckin’ brat, huh?,” 

You shake your head, but your voice trembles in your throat when you try to reply. With the way Bakugos got your legs pinned, a hand resting on your navel with two fingers in your cunt, it’s hard to think at all. You squirm out of his reach, away from him. Everything in your body feels like it’s trembling and the pressure in your body has you dizzy and aching. 

Your clit is swollen from what feels like hours of stimulation. His mouth latches onto the swollen nerves, and goes and goes - matches the pace of his fingers fucking in and out of you. Every movement makes you twitch - an aching fever in your core. It’s almost painful - completely overwhelming. Bakugous determination leaves little room for error. 

“Ngh, I don’t ― aah, don’t mean to be” 

He chuckles a little at that. You can feel it reverberate against your body. When your eyes flutter open to see him between your legs, you’re sure you’re gonna cum again right away. Bakugou fucks you open with two fingers then three - stretches you out till your nice and soft. It makes you feel gooey, cum and saliva pooling onto once stain-less sheets. 

“Katsuki, ‘s enough, please - enough,” 

“Not enough baby,” he bites your thigh with sharp canines, red eyes boring into yours “Gotta be a good girl ‘n give one more. Spoiled fuckin’ brats gonna take all of it, aint she?” 

You let out something half-way between a whine and a whimper. The muscles in your thighs ache from holding still so long - from shaking. Your eyes roll up till there’s only white. Fuck you’re cumming again. How many times is it now? You can’t remember. 

It aches. Your cunt like a play-thing against the wet muscle, thick fingers that stretch you much wider than you thought possible before. He gives and gives and gives - and you take like the spoiled and greedy brat you are. When he ruins your pretty pussy into stuttered, breathless and raggedy orgasm - you take it all so greedily. 

“So fuckin’ pretty when you cream on my fingers, princess,” and he grunts, uses his free hand to jerk his cock. It’s stiff enough to hurt, the ache in his balls unbearable. But he’s gotta get you nice and sloppy - he likes to give it to you all in one go after all. 

Your brain feels like it’s melting, mouth dropped own and drooling. Katsuki is always so mean  but not with you. With you, he’s whispering sweet nothings into your sweaty skin and biting claim into the flesh. You let him melt you into whatever shape he likes with the promise he’ll hold you through it. 

“Gone and fucked you real stupid, huh?” 

There’s an unmistakable affection in his words that makes you screw your eyes tight enough it hurts. Tears prick your lashes as another orgasm rips through - shreds you to pieces. 

“Katsuki” 

You hold your arms out for him, needing to cling - and he lets you like he always does. You kiss him desperately, tongue searching for desperate reprieve as he drags sticky fingers up to your mouth. You can feel his cock slide between your folds, heady heavy and throbbing against your clit. 

It’s so, so hot. It’s molten, your brain and stomach turned to complete fucking mush. You whine again - loud into his mouth. 

“Clean ‘em good or you’re not getting my cock”

You nod dumbly. His fingers slide down your throat, touch your tongue and stretches your mouth out. 

“Haah,” he chuckles against your throat “So fuckin’ messy, huh? Your mouth and your pretty little pussy are so fuckin’ soaked for me, aint they?” 

“Yeah, yeah - ‘s f’r you” 

“All for me?” 

You nod with his fingers in your mouth, smiling like you’ve won the fucking lottery as you look him in the eyes. So obedient and pretty and good. His dick aches. 

“Mhm” 

He has you pinned so easily underneath, grunting as your knees are brought to your ears. You yelp as he bends over you, sliding his cock against your clit - fucking right between as he looks at your desperate face. Your eyes gone hazy as you watch his cock almost catch on your hole but never quite hitting. 

“’tsuki, hngh - please”

You’re distraught. So fucking spoiled - you’re in delirium begging for his dick. You need him so bad you don’t know anything other than digging your nails into his biceps and begging over and over and over. 

“Fuck  ― fuckin’ take this dick baby, shit” 

Your brain turns to static when you feel him fill you up in one fluid motion. Katsuki is thicker than he’s big, stretches you so good you scream silently. Strong hips that make you ricochet right into the bed with each thrust, you can feel yourself cream over him. It’s humiliating. 

He rolls your clit between his thumb and forefinger as he pistons you. Your body jerks so violently you almost lose hold - but Bakugou placates you with a tongue in your mouth. Kisses you messy with teeth and tongue - so salacious it has your cunt fluttering. His muscular body pins you to the bed, leaves you helpless and open wide for him to take.

 Bakugou’s spoiled you so he knows how you need, knows how to make you cum even when you’re so fucked out you can’t feel the air in your lungs. 

He french kisses you because he knows that’s how you like it - his spoiled, obsessive angel that can’t quite get enough of him. He knows just how your mouth likes to be occupied, knows just what nerves to hit. 

“C-Cumming!” 

Bakugou drops his forehead on your shoulder, mouth enveloping yours. He doesn’t say anything but his fingers grip into the fat of your thigh. You can feel him in your stomach, in your cevix 

Bakugou cums in you hot and heavy and thick. He groans into your mouth - jaw tense and brows taught when he fucks his load into until it’s all mixed together. 

His eyes open to check on you, his baby. Your eyes are red and puffy with tears - but you’re smiling lazily. Scheming. He squints

“What the fuck is it, brat?”

“.. You’re only gonna give me one?” 

Goddamn it. 

»» — { ♡ } —— { ♡ } —— { ♡ } — ««

[bitchybutcher]

Texts I sent a friend the first time I watched The Boys, Season 2:

-        Gird your loins

-        I’m dying to know more about Black Noir

-        Ugh ffs Homelander smarming about on stage at Translucents funeral

-        It’s an empty box but I suppose how would people know cause invisible corpse

-        WHY IS ANNIE SINGING AT THE INVISIBLE PERVS FUNERAL

-        Aw no straight in with Sad Kevin

-        Oh ok angry drunk Kevin

-        Ugh not these Samaritans Embrace fuckers again

-        Oh Annie. Parroting the company line. I hope she’s gonna fuck them all over

-        SAD HUGHIE OH NO

-        BILLY JOOOOOELLLL

-        Aw Kimiko is learning

-        Her lil smile

-        Oooh Hughie is a liiiiiar

-        Meeting on the subway like a couple shifty teenagers

-        Oh I forgot they microchipped the supes like dogs

-        Oh nooooo young love angst

-        Oh no a Sad Kevin incident

-        Aaaaand he’s been arrested

-        A nice archer bailed him out

-        Omfg the fake Butcher re-enactment

-        Oh do NOT tell me this crazy bastard is gonna drink the frozen breast milk

-        Oh fuck he is

-        What the FUCK, HOMELANDER

-        This visually impaired ninja seems nice

-        That probably means he’s gonna turn out to be a dick

-        OH FUCK

-        Homelander what the fuuuuuck

-        Ok what the shit is happening here in the motel

-        WHAT

-        What the fuuuuuck

-        I – MM is making a dolls house? That’s so cute

-        Oh shit smuggled people

-        Homelander is nuts with power

-        Uhhhh who is Carol and why is she staring at Kevin while he sleeps

-        Finally an archer who is honest about how useless they can be once they run out of arrows

-        Oh noooo are they gonna try brainwash Kevin with homeopathic stuff? And why do they keep offering him Fresca

-        OH FUCK ME NOT ANOTHER RELIGION THING

-        Oh Hughie has grown a pair since last season. Good for him

-        Where’s Butcherrrrrrrr

-        Body gore porn dude is called Gecko that’s too cute a name for him

-        Stormfront seems like fun

-        She’s gonna be pissing off Homelander so much I like her already

-        OH WHAT THE FUCK THE CIA LADYS HEAD EXPLODED

-        I like Stan

-        Giving Homelander the dressing down he needs

-        I know it’s convenient for Toni to wear the padded suit all the time but does Homelander ever wear anything else

-        Oh hiiii Becca I still think you’re a bitch and Butcher deserved better

-        BUTCHERRRRR YASSSSS

-        “Daddy’s home”

-        I’m dead. It’s official.

-        The fuckin smirk and the voice I’m fuckin dead

-        OH NO KEVIN IS TRYING THE CHURCH THING

-        Is he making shroom tea

-        Why is Patton Oswalt voicing Kevin’s gills this is delightful

-        Atrain is awake again that’s not good

-        I’m cracking up at Sad Kevin and his singing gills

-        Homelander is gone way off the deep end oh boy

-        Awwww soft Maeve in the hospital with her girlfriend

-        I want to like Becca but I can’t shake the bad feeling

-        Homelander is a terrible father

-        I mean I know he has no role models to base his parenting on, but yikes

-        It’s like if Scar was raising Simba instead of Mufasa

-        ….are the gang raiding a party city store

-        I love how Frenchie always looks a mix of horrified and amazed whenever Kimiko kills someone

-        AWWW IT’S HER BROTHER YAY

-        Oh shiiiiiiiit

-        Butcher STOP JUST SHOOTING PEOPLE

-        You were right this season is weird

-        I like Kimiko’s brothers bedazzled denim jacket

-        Butcher don’t punch Hughie wtf

-        Starting with Hughie listening to the same song again, nice

-        Butcher is terrible at apologising it’s so cute

-        I’m sorry did Hughie just fall over trying to throw a punch

-        The kid’s a dandelion omg

-        Why are they on a boat? Did Karl just decide “I like being on boats lemme go on a boat”?

-        I see what you mean about Homelander being scary

-        He’s completely insane

-        Why does this storyboard guys shirt say assbinder

-        Chace Crawford is an excessively veiny man

-        BLACK NOIR IS CRYING

-        Or possibly laughing

-        Hard to tell when they have no face

-        Annie actually leaked all the compound V stuff good for her

-        FRENCHIE KISSED HUGHIE

-        Homelander is gonna get this kid killed tryna make him fly

-        Honestly the kid looks more like Hughie

-        OH MY GOD HE PUSHED HIM OFF THE ROOF

-        OH MY SWEET FUCKING JESUS HOMELANDER YOU CAN’T DO THAT

-        Oop there’s the laser eyes

-        Oh Homelander is back at the Tower and freaking Maeve out

-        OH FUCK THE BROTHER IS LOOSE

-        Hughie don’t do it

-        Oh ok I thought he was gonna jump off the boat

-        Kevin and the cult weirdos are up to something

-        Hughie no you don’t call the girl you like crying over Billy Joel lyrics

-        Oh god boyo you don’t then drop the L word in the same voice message!

-        He’s hopeless

-        Oh nooooo Kevin is attacking the boat goddammit Kevin

-        OH FUCK A WHALE

-        For fuck sake Kevin

-        Ewwwww

-        Butcher what the fuck

-        Hughie having a nervous breakdown inside of a whale

-        No but why is Karl so hot covered in blood

-        Actually I didn’t even need to include the blood part of that question

-        Oh boy here we go, the 7 show up to find Sad Kevin crying over spilt whale

-        ….why is Stormfront tryna get all up in Homelander’s ass?? I thought she was cool but now she’s all lemme suck that radioactive dick

-        OH NO

-        Poor Kevin he’s worked so hard to accept his gills and now Homelander has knocked him back down

-        Oooo dear Atrain is having a heart attack again this isn’t good

-        Oh fuck is Hughie gon get caught

-        Oh no it’s Annie it’s ok

-        OH FUCK

-        ANNIE WHY

-        THAT’S YOUR HUGHIE

-        OH MAN KIMIKO’S BROTHER IS BADASS YES SQUASH THE SMUG PRICK

-        Oh I do NOT like Stormfront holy fuckin shit what’s wrong with this woman

-        Poor Kimiko

-        What’s with the random woman talking about calling off her wedding?

-        Why is Frenchie taking drugs

-        FUCK SAKE FRENCHIE DON’T TRY KISS A GIRL WHEN SHE’S GRIEVING

-        What the FUCK is thiiiiis

-        Is he dreaming or is this the shapeshifter tryna stay alive by granting Homelander some sick wish

-        Yikes I feel bad for Doppelganger

-        I am fascinated by whoever and whatever the fuck Black Noir is

-        MM sees right through everyone’s bullshit

-        I feel so bad for Annie

-        Ooooo Atrain getting fired

-        MM having to put up with Hughie and Annie having a we didn’t start the fire singalong 😂

-        Ok who’s in the weird group therapy sesh with these women with strange views on love

-        Vending machine date so cute

-        Omfg ahahahaha the girl with the Ed Sheeran tattoo

-        I really want to like Becca cause she stands up to Homelander but I can’t shake the suspicions about her

-        I feel bad for Butcher

-        Homelander is a scary good liar

-        Oh shit interviewer lady is pulling out the diversity questions

-        OH FUCK

-        HE’S OUTED MAEVE

-        Poor Maeve what the fuck

-        Ugh Stormfront

-        Shut your racist hole bitch

-        Oh shit Kimiko on the warpath

-        Frenchie! Kimiko listen to him he’s tryna help

-        MM is doing a lotta sharing this episode

-        Ohhhh something bad is gonna come out about this Liberty lady they’re looking for oh fuck

-        Wait WHAT. STORMFRONT IS LIBERTY

-        Stormfront is like 70????

-        She’s really good with social media for an old bird

-        Ohhh fuck Homelander is pisssssssssed

-        Christ you’d know Homelander was an only child

-        Bitch you better not be fucking Butcher over

-        I FUCKIN KNEW IT

-        BECCA YOU RAGING BITCH

-        Got her goodbye fuck then called the supercops on him cause he’s a little broken? FUCK BECCA

-        Oh no Annie don’t give Hughie the “we can’t do this” talk

-        Pick your emo ass up and stop being melodramatic

-        All these women are chatting to Kevin?? Why??

-        Also this most recent one is super weird

-        THEY WERE INTERVIEWING TO BE KEVINS WIFE

-        This cult thing is so fuckin weird omfg

-        KEVIN GET YOUR SAD BUTT OUT OF THE CULT

-        Oh gross not the Doppelganger shit again

-        Doppelganger is really bad at flirting

-        ….

-        WHAT THE SHIT

-        Nonononono don’t do the selfcest

-        Not even Homelander is that fucked up

- ��      This is super weird

-        Why is Homelander crying

-        OH SHIT HE KILLED HIM

-        Uhhhh are they doing a lesbian scene in a vcu movie

-        Christ that was terrible and way too on the nose

-        “Strong female lesbians”

-        Homelander you himbo fuck what other kind of lesbian do you get

-        I feel bad for Ashley

-        She just wants to do her job well

-        Poor Butcher. His lil heart is broken

-        Oh no baby you’re hurt and upset? That’s so sad let me suck your dick about it

-        Oh no what’s he gonna do

-        BUTCHER WHAT THE SHIT

-        I mean it’s really fuckin hot but still

-        There’s always a cut on the cheekbone

-        “They’ve been moving her around like a Catholic priest” omg HUGHIE

-        Aww he called Hughie his canary

-        Oh shit are Frenchie and Kimiko missing?

-        KEVIN GOT MARRIED

-        BILLY HAS AN AUNTIE

-        Doggiiiiie

-        Awwwww soft Butcher with his dog

-        Aaaand now I feel bad for Atrain cause he’s being kicked to the curb

-        Oh gross this interview with Kevin and his cult wife

-        This is so cringe holy fuck

-        Bring back the Patton Oswalt gills

-        Why are the gangsters discussing musicals specifically Hamilton

-        FUCKING HELL KIMIKO PEELED OFF THAT GUYS FACE

-        Ahahaha the boys showed up at Butchers aunties house

-        The dog’s name is Terror that’s so cute

-        Hahahaha Hughie was holding the fuck pig

-        Why is there a sniper on the roof

-        Oh shit it’s Black Noir

-        Ugh what does Annie’s mom want and why is Stormfront being her friend

-        Oh hey it’s dickless

-        These two writer dudes are hella irritating

-        Poor Elena getting dragged into this shit

-        Yes Maeve scheme against his ass

-        Heartbroken Butcher is so tired

-        He needs a hug

-        Hughie give Butcher a hug please

-        Why is Kimiko in a church

-        Oh hey its Frenchie’s other girlfriend

-        Oh ok Kimiko is doing hits that’s fair

-        The old man just looking away like “I do not see it”

-        Aw no Frenchie don’t break up with Kimiko

-        Oh fuck off Cult Kevin

-        Stormfront again?????

-        Does this bitch ever fuck off

-        DID SHE JUST CALL ATRAIN GARBAGE

-        Wait why is Homelander giving an unapproved speech

-        This is gonna end in someone getting murdered isn’t it

-        OH FUCK

-        That’s a lot more murder than I expected

-        Ohhhh phew ok he was just daydreaming

-        Ashley is gonna go bald from stress

-        I adore grumpy Butcher

-        Omg auntie Judy is a drug dealer I love her

-        Ohhhh shit Homelander is having a nervous breakdown

-        BOBBY FROM X-MEN????

-        Uhhhh why is Homelander talking to Stormfront this can’t be good

-        Ooh MM set a trap this gon be good

-        BUTCHER HAS A BROTHER???? THAT HUGHIE IS LIKE

-        Oop Lenny is dead

-        The random explosions as Black Noir trips the traps

-        Oh shit Butcher locked the others out to face Black Noir alone

-        YES MM

-        OH NO MM

-        YES HUGHIE

-        Oh fuck did he KO Butcher

-        Shiiiit shit shit shit

-        Yes Butcher save your Hughie

-        Oh good they all survived

-        For fuck sake Kevin stop with the cult shit

-        Maeve please save Kevin from the cult

-        Annie why are you sneaking around don’t do it

-        There’s a lot of shots of Annie’s bum

-        What the fuck is Sage Grove

-        Stormfront needs to go choke on a bag of dicks

-        Oh fuck no not Homelander again

-        Uhhhhhhh

-        Stormfront x Homelander was not what I was expecting

-        These two have the WEIRDEST relationship

-        They’re gonna do some really fucked up supe bdsm shit aren’t they

-        Frenchie is Betty White. Fair enough

-        Wait what is happening. Why is Annie letting Frenchie at her with a lil saw

-        Ohhh the chip

-        “This might sting a little” FRENCHIE IT’S A FUCKIN SAW

-        Oh fuck that’s a big chip

-        Oh look it’s loves psychotic dream

-        Well that’s suitably gross

-        Aww Kimiko hugging Annie

-        Butcher is so menacing I love him

-        Kevin tryna be helpful to his buddies he’s so cute

-        NO! NO BAD KEVIN! STOP TRYING TO MAKE PEOPLE JOIN YOUR CULT

-        Kimiko with her brass knuckle

-        Oh man, flowers??? Homelander has it BAD

-        Annie back the fuck off and leave Butcher alone

-        OH SHIT IT’S STORMFRONT AT THE HOSPITAL NOOOO

-        What the fuck is going on at this hospital

-        OH FUCK BOBBY FROM X-MEN IS LAMPLIGHTER

-        Oh shit who got let out

-        What does Cindy do

-        OH SHIT SHE’S THE HEAD BURSTER

-        Aaaaaaand now they’re all out

-        Good job, guys

-        Ewwwwww acid vomit

-        OH NO HUGHIE

-        Are you kidding me?? Annie can’t go all Starlight unless there’s a power source in the immediate vicinity??

-        What kinda fuckin shite superpower is that

-        Aha Butcher agrees with me

-        Ok so I’m guessing Homelander went berserk on set

-        Uhhhh apparently Cult Lunch is a therapy sesh?

-        Atrain get outta there

-        This cult leader guy is an arsehole

-        Hospital escape lookin like a horror survival game

-        Awwww flashbacks to happy times

-        Omfg Butcher with the slicked back hair

-        Welp, Annie just killed a guy

-        Oh shit a baby seat

-        Annie is gonna have a bad case of the guilts now

-        Oh fuck ok Lamplighter killed the kids by accident

-        So Frenchie went to save his friend instead of tailing

-        Oh god that’s the penis isn’t it

-        Stormfront to the…rescue? Maybe? She’s gonna kill Lamplighter isn’t she

-        Oh, no ok she didn’t kill him

-        Aw no sad Butcher cause Hughie’s hurt

-        Oh nooooo Elena found a video from the plane

-        Mallory gon kill sad Lamplighter?

-        Stormfront is coming clean to Homelander? Whaaaa

-        She was buddies with the Nazis??? SHE WAS MARRIED TO THE VOUGHT FOUNDER GUY

-        Oh fuck the head burster is still alive

-        A montage of how Stormfront is brainwashing people into racist attacks, nice

-        I hate Annie’s mom so much

-        Black Noir has just fuckin LAMPED Annie

-        Butchers mum called him 😂😂

-        Oh shit his dad died

-        Why are Hughie and Lamplighter watching knock off supe porn

-        Oh boy a racist rally

-        Homelander just threw Annie under the bus

-        Hughie that’s a really weird pep talk

-        And he’s gonna get Lamplighter killed

-        BUTCHERS MUM IS ADORABLE

-        Oh shit it’s Denethor

-        And he’s not dead

-        Oh fuck he’s why Lenny died?

-        Shit Lenny shot himself

-        Butcher was SAS???

-        WHERE ARE MY PICS OF BUTCHER IN HIS ARMY UNIFORM

-        Ah fuck he’s bringing stepmommy Stormfront to meet the kid

-        I have an urge to run my fingers through Butchers beard

-        Frenchie and Kimiko are too cute she’s teaching him her sign language

-        Is this a cult birthday party?

-        Poor Eagle the Archer. He pissed off the cult so he’s gon be excommunicated

-        Uhhhh kiddo made a Lego film?

-        Good for him

-        I know it shouldn’t be sexy when Butcher starts threatening to brutally murder people in his growly voice, I know, but hear me out: sexy growly voice

-        11/10 would let Karl Urban murder me

-        Oh FUCK Lamplighter killed himself

-        Poor Hughie

-        Why do all the bad things happen to him, like having to saw off a dead guy’s hand with a broken whiskey decanter

-        Annie versus Black Noir, beat his/her ass girl!

-        HUGHIE COME SAVE YOUR ANNIE

-        YAY MAEVE

-        Black Noir has an almond allergy that’s such an off the wall weakness

-        Annie’s favourite chocolate bar saved her life

-        Well Maeve did, technically. But still

-        Omg Hughie accidentally saving Annie’s mom

-        Hughie and Annie are too cute

-        Oh shiiiiit Homelander screwed the pooch and showed the kid everything

-        HAHA SUCK IT BECCA

-        OH SHIT HEADS ARE BURSTING ALL OVER THE PLACE

-        Butcher in his lil jumper

-        For a non-American, this school safety psa video is supremely weird

-        BOBBY FROM SUPERNATURALS CHARACTER IS CALLED BOB

-        BOBBY FROM SUPERNATURALS CHARACTER IS JUST BOBBY FROM SUPERNATURAL BUT FANCY

-        Annie’s mom critiquing her choice in boyfriends while in mortal danger is gas

-        And typical

-        The lads going nuts with weapons they’re so happy look at them

-        And Butcher in his lil jumper again he looks so comfy

-        I would very much like to cuddle him in the soft jumper and give him beard scritches

-        Annie ffs let Hughie enjoy his Billy Joel, that’s a good choice

-        Ahahaha Maeve just called Hughie a twink

-        She’s not wrong

-        Oh fuck off Becca

-        Uuuuugh OF COURSE Mr Edgar is in with the cult

-        Oop Atrain overheard all of that

-        Poor Ashley she’s going bald from stress

-        The kid is gonna have a meltdown

-        Poor Hughie with his mom leaving

-        I wonder if she’ll pop up at some point and turn out to be a supe that would be fun

-        ATRAIN YOU CAN’T JUST APPEAR IN A CAR LIKE THAT YOU COULDA KILLED SOMEONE

-        Hold the phone is Homelander actually being a good dad for a minute

-        What the actual fuck is Stormfront on with this white genocide shit

-        Ahahaha the news broke

-        Uh oh the Vought soldiers got caught by Homelander

-        OH SHIT

-        MM BETTER BE OK

-        Becca fuckin constantly squawking about Ryan is so annoying

-        WHY IS KIMIKO LAUGHING

-        It’s adorable but still

-        Oh FUCK she snapped her neck

-        She’ll be fine

-        She’s like a wolverine, snapped neck won’t keep her down

-        AYYYYY MAEVE

-        The lads just watching them kicking the shit out of her like uhhh

-        Oh hey Becca did something useful and stabbed the Nazi in the eye

-        Huh. The kid melted Stormfront

-        Good for him

-        AHAHAHA YES HE GOT BECCA TOO

-        BYEEEEE FELICIAAAAA

-        I mean yeah, heartbroken sad Butcher isn’t nice to see, but Becca sucked

-        Aaaand now Homelander covered in blood has arrived to listen to Stormfront babble in German

-        This is like in those scenes where it’s like oh who will the dog go to

-        Ayyy Atrain got back into the 7

-        Aww poor Kevin getting rejected again

-        See Kevin this is why we don’t join cults

-        Annie thought he was breaking up with her, girl don’t be daft

-        Butcher and the kid, not awkward at all

-        The one lesson Butcher can teach a kid – “don’t be a cunt”

-        Aww happy endings for all the boys

-        Aaaaand a “happy ending” for Homelander too by the looks of it

-        Oh ffs a corrupt politician in with the cult, what a surprise

-        HIS HEAD BURST

-        Wait the politician lady is the head burster? I’m so confused

-        Confusion may have been aided by it being almost 3am

-        Hughie getting a real job, bless him

-        Too bad it’s with the head burster

-        Oh this is such a good song to end the season with

-        Welp, now begins the long wait for season 3, I guess

-        Should I sleep or find fic to read

-        Body says sleep, heart says fic

-        That’s a lie, heart says Butcher

-        ….Butcher fics it is

[kaxenart]

24, 25 HH

24. Where did their name come from? Does it have meaning?

Parzival Géroux - either "pierce the valley" and "spear wolf" or ....spear spear? Ironically, he is not a lancer. lol I picked his name for sound more than for meaning.

Arsene - "manly/virile" A name for a bit of a chad lol

Kadir - "powerful/almighty/capable" ...last one doesn't seem as dramatic.

Vang - "king" or "gold/yellow" Spelling varies since smashing the Roman alphabet at Asian languages is messy and there are multiple systems.

Navet Jardin - "Turnip Garden." Jardin's parents were staunch revolutionaries and thought there were too many Jeans in town or something, so the whole family swapped to vegetable names during the revolution. Jardin was somewhere between 0 and 5 at the time and had no say in the matter.

25. What events changed them as a child?

I'm including teenagerhood because the older I get, the more "goddamn, you're a fuckin' baby" I am about age 16 and below.

The revolution was just a major event in most of their lives.

Arsene was probably the most affected because he super buys into the revolution and is still pretty leftist, though at the moment he views fighting in the army to defend and/or expand the country as more important than dethroning the emperor. The fact the emperor doesn't have an heir makes him think there's a future opening for Democracy 2 This Time Better. Most of how Arsene acts was solidified in his teens. He quit his art apprenticeship. He got into fights with literally anyone (the conservatives for being wrong, the other leftists not being good enough by his estimation, and everyone else trying to explain to him a minor can't properly engage in politics) and this is why he is a strong duelist now. Some Muscadin broke his nose for being obnoxious AF. The fact Arsene hasn't gotten himself killed is something Arsene takes as reason to believe he is very right about everything.

Parzival has a lot of baggage due to the revolution. He was raised fairly religious, but he has since lapsed during the anti-religion push in the revolution, but he still occasionally makes religious gestures and he still feels a somewhat constant background guilt about... literally everything. As a family on the bottom end of rich and not especially politically active, his family mostly avoided being a target for politically-motivated murder, but "if I'm not 'good' enough, someone is going to kill me" is something that kind of ate at the back of his mind. And as the revolution got messier, what option to take got harder to decide on. Parzival does spend a lot of time wondering if he is doing the right thing and agonizing and pingponging wildly between his decisions which is how you get like... on one hand, arson, on the other hand, feeding fifty street urchins every night.

He is a little less of a mess as an adult if only because his living situation is much less chaotic, but it does still kind of bother him from time to time.

Vang got pretty massively disillusioned by life as a child. His father super bought into what missionaries were saying, got called the village idiot, and wrangled the rest of the family into it. After the mission was deemed a failure, Vang's family hitchhiked with the missionaries west.

....then the Revolution happened and the church got ripped to pieces.

Vang has mixed feelings about his father, but he has been living in Valois for too long to really feel like he should go back east and since the revolution brought men from more modest backgrounds to the higher levels of politics, Vang thinks it is better to stay with the mess he knows better which is why he is interested in politics and has a long list of suggestions for the emperor. Vang only cares about practical matters since his father and the church's pie in the sky ideas were a waste of time in his opinion.

On a pettier note, Jardin has a stupid name. Jardin wishes he had a cool story from the Revolution to tell like how Arsene does (oblivious to the fact Arsene is 50% lying), but ideologically, he doesn't give a shit about the Revolution. He got bullied a bit as a kid, which is why is he pretty pugnacious. He also just wants to be a bully himself and is pretty much a giant ass to anyone who isn't another hussar.

Kadir rode out the revolution like any other Tuesday Duodi, as an enfant de troupe, mostly only affected by it because the command changed a bit as some of the upper level aristocratic soldiers decided they were going to leave and sometimes his dad's pay got really inconsistent as the new government's finances were a mess.

His dad was killed in battle and Kadir figured he had all the equipment already (give or take a few holes to patch up), and formally enlisted for full pay as soon as they'd let him. He can't really imagine non-army life.

[madllamamomma]

I Think I Have a Problem.... (A personal true story).

So as the title suggests, I have a strange problem…. Just as a warning, this is about my view of my younger self. It is about religion, and gender identity. This is not how I see the world anymore. It was how I told how the world should look. If you are offended in any way, please know this is a vent post and nothing to hurt anyone else. This is just what happened to me as a child. Shit….. This is about to get very long winded, so buckle up and here we go… *takes deep breath*

So a little backstory on your Mother Llama: I was raised in a weird backward ass “Independent” Baptist church most of my young life. If you guys don’t know what those are, be thankful…. But I guess I should explain it the best way I can…. they are a borderline cult. Yes. I said it. I’m not sorry. It may sound like an extreme accusation, but hold on. Just listen to me.

Now, I have no problem with Christians, or religion. You should believe whatever you want to believe in…. I do however, have a problem when religion is used as an excuse to not educate minds about the real world, force them to not let them think for themselves, and when someone questions any of it, they are punished or shamed for it instead of thinking about an answer. If you can’t tell, I am still a little angry about that shit. Imma try to keep on topic here….

I wasn’t taught science (real science anyways, it was all about ‘creation’ bs—OH! And being anything but a cis straight person was compleltly unexceptable. Woman were the weaker sex and were made to raise babies and take care of the husband. Men were superior and should be taken care of.) nor about World history or about other cultures, other than biblical of course. And when they were mentioned, they made them look evil and behave like heathens because they didn’t believe the same as they did. Everything changed when I went to public school half of fourth grade when my family moved to a different state and there wasn’t any church school like I went to. I learned a lot those years, that ‘The World’ wasn’t as bad of a place as they said it was. It was vast and had many things to offer. (No, not the World, Dio’s stan power from Jojo’s bizarre adventures—that is what our pastors called anything outside of the Baptist approved realm. Something ‘Worldly’ was basically something sinful and ungodly and therefor was bad and wrong).

So this may seem like a strange Segway in to what I am actually getting at, but I had a huge crush on this boy back when I was young and it started when I was about 12 or 13 years old and ended when I was 16. He was the same age as me, and he was the son of a pastor of a small church of about 20 people, mostly military families— we will call him.... D.... for dick...

I thought for a long time that I ‘loved’ D. I thought that ‘God made him for me’ (yes I really said that and it hurt to even write it). I really thought I knew what love was back then, but I was very wrong.

D was homeschooled, he didn’t have many friends and was also a navy brat like I was. So, naturally, we got along very well, and I would hang out with him at his house sometimes. We mainly played video games I was terrible at and he would always bet me. But I liked hanging out with him, so I didn’t care if I won or not. My heart for some reason was totally head over heels over D. And he liked me too for a while… or at least I thought he did… He however never made a move. I always thought D was just too shy, and didn’t know how to ask me. Any time I tried holding his hand, I’d chicken out. It was a stalemate. But this particular church did a thing where people had to court. Yes... COURT someone, not DATE (Courting is where you had adult chaperones keeping an eye on you two, you were never really alone. Ever, because apparently you can’t be trusted?). When we both turned 15 yo, D started a private Christian school. Being the awkward girl I was, I never told him how I felt, I just waiting for him to say something. Time passed, and I still waited and waited for him to ask me out.

But here’s the thing! He didn’t know the real me.

I was in public school, in middle school, and I started to become a weeb. Like a super cringy weeb that didn’t like anything else but anime—I was also kinda emo/punk kid thought I was edgy. (Yeah rock music was bad too, it was ‘Worldly’).Not a very good mix for Baptist I know. At school, I was one person, and at church I was another.

Well, being an anime fan meant I was exposed to a lot of things like the LGTB+ community for the first time. A lot of my friends at the time started to come out other than straight and that was very new to me.

During that time, I soon was starting to secretly question my faith, my understanding of my own sexuality and gender. Like, maybe people liking the same sex or both is actually not a bad thing after all (if you haven’t seen any of my works, hopefully you guys know that I know better that what I was taught—I am a proud fuckin’ ally! I still consider myself cis-straight, but some days I feel like I’m bi-curious, and that’s ok! It took me a long time to realize that, but I’m here now. Gender roles are dead and stupid.)

So here is the kicker~ One faithful day we had a guest pastor join us for a few weeks from another church. This mother fuckin’ nasty ass old white man from Alabama came with his ‘perfect quiet godly’ wife. Who badly ever spoke a damn word. She always just sat in the corner all ‘ladylike’.

—Oh!!! Another fun fact, I didn’t wear pants for a year when I was 10 yo becasue that was considered “cross dressing”— I’m dead fucking serious. My parents then decided after attending sporting events and stuff like that to drop that ludicrous lifestyle, becasue it was stupid. So, Outside of church, my family and I still wore pants and shorts and whatever, but in church we pretended that we didn’t wear anything but modest skirts, dresses, and long culottes. (That’s a little damaging…. don’t you think? Telling people your one thing, when in reality you're not like that at all??)

Anyways— I hated skirts, especially wearing them in the state we lived in, it was way too hot and I’d get chafed (these had to be knee length or longer btw). And of course that guest preacher would preach about the sins of women wearing pants, but I didn’t care. I wore them for so long, it just made me angry anytime someone would bring that up. I liked my jeans and I was starting to become a rebel teen who gave less than a fuck and started to speak my mind. Which was dangerous to that community…. Also I had a bad tendency of not keeping my legs together when I bent down, and one time I accidently showed my underwear (that’s really embarrassing btw, it’s not cute, it’s not funny, it’s awful when you're 14 yo-- really any age actually).

So, one day I wore a long jean skirt for a youth outing with the church. I was required to wear it, but I always wore leggings underneath so I wouldn’t accidentally show my undies if I fell down or the wind blew it. This fucker had to say something about it. The old man turned to me with a wrinkled smirk as I was passing by him and dared to utter, “Now, don’t you feel most femine and ladylike in that skirt? I’m sure Jesus would like seeing you like that.”

My shoulders clench up tight, my brow furrows. All I can remember seeing is fucking red and actually trembling with fury. (This was happening in my pastor, D’s father’s, own living room mind you.) D was there watching as I blanched about ten shades of red in anger and embarrassed because that prick of an old man called me out in front of everyone. I turned to him and half shouted, “NO! I don’t!” I could see my pastor’s mouth drop to the floor as I began to completely obliterate this old man. But I couldn't stop myself as I started to further cut into him. “—I hate wearing skirts! I don’t feel ladylike! In fact, they make me feel vulnerable! What if some guy tries to rape me! They won’t have any problem getting to me!��Why is something with a whole on the bottom more ladylike than something that actually covers me?! I like pants! They are comfortable and they make me feel safe! Why is that a sin to wear something that is more covering?!?! I’m not cross dressing, my mom bought them in the girl’s session!! [Keep in mind that was a long time ago, I don’t feel like people should care about what section they get their clothes from, wear what you want] And what do you know about wearing a skirt?! You’re a man! You try wearing them! They suck! You need to stop telling me what I can and can’t wear! I’m not dressing like a whore for wearing something with a crotch!! SO LEAVE ME ALONE!!” Everyone in the living room was just stunned at my audacity to dare speak to this pastor like I did. But he was so fucking quiet after that. And I stormed out of the house and the guest pastor never spoke to me again about it. Luckily my mom came and picked me shortly after that. She was angry too after I told her what happened. That old fuck singled me out and I was pissed off. I was a teenager and that shit was embarrassing!

But I made the mistake of showing my true self. I think after that moment, D stopped liking me after that.

Some shit went down south with my parents behind closed doors of my household, and eventually they got divorced. They left the small church because the pastor didn’t approve of it. Pastor said that my parents just needed more counseling but he didn't understand that they just needed to not be together. Sometimes you can’t make things work. Especially when your dad is a toxic piece of shit that only cares about himself.

Anyways, everyone in my family left the church, but I stuck around that shit-hole just to see if D would ask me out. I was so desperate, I felt like I waited forever, but really it was like 2-3 years, and I felt like I couldn’t give up. Eventually D and I turned 16. He started to become distant and a little mean towards me and I became confused and started to realize the worst. Finally, I was tired of waiting so I asked his older sister if he liked me on the way back taking me home. I could see it in her face, that she didn’t want to have my heart broken, but reluctantly she told me no. He actually liked another girl at his new private school and was going to ask her parents to court her instead.

I was so devastated.... It hurt so much, I cried myself to sleep that night, and most of that week I was very sad.

Obviously, after that, I stopped going to church entirely, I couldn't show my face anymore. Finally let myself question my faith, sexuality, gender roles, and humanity all together. And realized that religion was stupid (in my opinion at the time) and I came u with the conclusion that people can be sheep. I was a sheep for a long time. And I refuse to be one ever again.

High school was very enjoyable after that, and I let myself grow and started to love other religions and world history, and tried to stop being so judgmental of others and what they felt like. I even got into a relationship with a sweet boy around my age.

Eventually in college, after a break-up with my high school sweetheart, I reconnected with D via FB. Apparently, the church went under and his parents moved away to Greece to be missionaries or something. D still lives in the same town I’m in, but graduated from a “Christian academy”—not Catholic, Christian. Catholic colleges are accredited at least. But he basically told me he was a secret “bad boy” now. He lost his virginity in highschool, (like I did) and he was totally trying to booty call me. Not even hiding it either! He was like, “Hey, Llama, you wanna fuck?”.

And I was like, “D! You broke my fucking heart when we were young! Don’t you remember that???”

And he was like, “Oh no! I had no idea! (the fuckin’ liar). Well, we can fuck now!~ *wink, wink*”

🤨

This is where I was a jerk.... Because he broke my heart. I led him on, told him I would meet up with him at his house to sleep with him, and just didn’t show up—ghosted him ever since. The worst part about that, is I still don’t regret doing that to him. I hope I hurt his feelings and felt like an ass like I did.

So years have passed, I consider myself as a rather successful woman now. I’m 27, I consider myself Buddhist (I am a terrible Buddhist I know), I am an Occupational Therapy Assistant and I have a great husband (I married the guy I was with in high school). And he loves the real me—the crazy closet weeb, cartoon watching, creative, expressive, me! The person who also writes fanfiction about a romance novel and he is fine with it. Because he is a huge nerd too and we are both nerds together.

My husband is my best friend and I don’t know what I’d do without him. When I write about Rhemi and Muriel, I draw a lot of inspiration with our conversation we have and how relationship dynamics are and I think it makes the writing more authentic and makes them feel a bit more real.

I love my husband more than anything… So why do I keep dreaming about that stupid asshole that just liked the fake me? D was and always will be a total tool. He is like the basic bitch of a man. And yet I still find him creeping in my dreams and I try to cheat on my husband with him in them. I wake up feeling totally terrible and weird after them too. D is a terrible fucking person—the worst person you can be in my opinion—The kind of person why lies and tells people one thing, but hides the fact that he’s really just a nasty fuck boy. If you are one, just be honest! Don’t tell another woman you're a good christan man, when really you’ve slept with not just one, but multiple girls! That how you get fucking STDs! I hate being lied to, and I’m sure other girls do too! So I guess that’s why I do, because I felt like I was lied to my entire life. Then again, why should I even care?! Why do I feel like I still obsess over him? I hate him so much now! So why do I even care? Why do I still find myself stalking him on social media? Why does it even matter? Why do I want him to see I’m happy without him? Why do I want him to see what he could have had with me? We were just stupid teenagers! Why did I care so much? Why did it hurt so much when I found out he didn’t like me?! It’s been over a decade, and we didn’t even really date! Why did this affect me so hard? …. FUCK!

So yeah. That’s my long ass rant for you all… thanks for coming to my ted talk.

[blacksurvivalnostalgichanges]

I'd love to double on that topic and ask how would some specific characters react to their in-country changes, as peaceful Hart seeing how recent conflicts with minorities escalated to an unhealthy rate or Sissela discovering the whole deal with Greta Tumberg, or Chiara/Adriana/Arda reacting to the arson in Notre Dame etc.

Imma be honest, I’m white, young and not from any of those countries so I cannot say I’m equipped to talk about them beyond the stuff I’ve seen shared on tumblr, aka “this whatsapp chain told me this helps with coronavirus” except the chain came from a doctor you don’t know (but i’m still hard left, nonbinary and aromantic, and i think communism is the better option overall for systems so if you’re curious on what I believe on most political subjects you can probably guess from that)

That said (for the sake of clarifying I don’t pretend to be an authority on it and I realize I’m only well-informed in comparison to someone that has never read any news), again, I’m white so I’m gonna give my two cents on it anyway cuz that’s what we do amirite

I hold that if Hart saw how bad shit got she’d really want it to stay peaceful but once she realized it ain’t happening she’d probably be willing to let go of the peace in order to keep peace. I don’t think she’s the type to tone police people when they’re reacting to hardship because wanting to keep the peace proactively involves making sure whoever is trying to break the peace is stopped because I’d rather think Hart’s view on life is three-dimensional and adaptable; that’s much more interesting to analyze then. So I think she’d likely try to passively help in any way she can (monetarily I don’t think she’d be able to do that much but she might, id est, try to host a place where people protesting can go to treat themselves, and probably try to make music that informs people on the situation and brings attention to the cause. She’d likely still kinda quietly not be into the more violent protests but not say much since she can understand why it’s happening, as being uncomfortable with what you have to do doesn’t mean you’re gonna be against it.

I’m not that sure on what aspect of the Greta Thunberg deal you’re referring to? I think Sissela would probably feel kinda disappointed that someone that’s this young is speaking up about it, since it’s a sort of ‘sign’ that shit’s gone sideways if a kid is literally pleading with adults to do something, and feel a sort of anger that a bunch of people criticize her every move when she’s trying to do something good. But tbh I don’t see Sissela as being the type to be really into learning the issues of the world and trying to fix them, closer to having a “I have too many things to deal with to be even more stressed about what’s currently happening in the world” sort of mindset where learning about the other issue going on just leads to a profound sigh, so I don’t think she’d know that much about it. 

Though I think she’d be pretty angry at the straws thing since she is the type of person that’d want to use a straw, as she has chronic pain. That’s an extremely direct thing that’d inconvenience her.

Chiara would be extremely sad that such a special cathedral was burned, even if her feelings towards God and religion and herself are very mixed I think she’d be affected by something like that. Arda would probably be pretty fuckin’ angry that they burned down a historical place and try to erase the traces that were left there.

Adriana would probably feel pretty jealous of whoever did it since WOW YOU MADMAN YOU SET FIRE TO THE NOTRE DAME CATHEDRAL IT’S HUGE HOW WARM WOULD THAT BE- so they’d both probably not be that happy with her outlook on it

Some sidenotes I thought could be interesting (though it’s all as-is character stuff, I’m not taking into account character development they could have):

-As Alex is gay, I think he wouldn’t be thrilled with the fact that Russia’s been trying to take away LGBT rights

-Isol and Rozzi would probably think “hooray now getting weapons is EASIER congrats dickhead” if they saw that guns got legalized in Brazil after Pants Pockets Guy got elected into office. Rozzi would probably not be that worried beyond international public opinion stuff since her job means she isn’t in here that often most likely, but Isol’d likely be sort of “resigned” to the fact that now things just got even worse.

-Magnus would most likely be one of those dudes that go ‘blue lives matter’, not gonna lie. Even if he’s in a motorcycle gang, I’d be surprised if he didn’t spout that sort of thing.

-Rio and Yuki would probably have a sort of “culture shock” with everyone else even without taking current events into account, but I would kill to see how they’d interact with the characters from other countries when wearing masks came up. 

“people are so fucking ridiculous, there’s literally a story of a lady that wasn’t wearing a mask and used her underwear as a mask out of spite” “...people are that unwilling to wear masks over there?” “i hadn’t seen a single mask in my life before corona showed up, if that answers your question” “what do you do when you get sick then??” “you deal with it yourself and hope not hugging anyone is enough to not pass it” “dude” “oh yeah and you drink tea” “you drink tea.”

-william yeets the tear gas canisters back at the cops with no hesitation. entirely because that sounds very funny

[zepdeans]

this is highkey like a month late (i mean wbk im a chronic scatterbrain procrastinator) and she’s thicccc but without further ado. my skam s4 thoughts.

I first just want to say a couple things: im not a muslim woc so my thoughts on s4 don’t hold as much value as those of a muslim, woc, or a muslim woc. I also don’t know to what degree sana’s representation was true to real life. I made an effort to look for posts from muslim woc on sana’s season but to no real avail, especially given it’s been two years since skam ended and a lot of blogs have deactivated, changed urls, or posts have become buried :( [if you know of any good posts regarding sana’s season please lmk!]. from what I can recall in 2017, there were mixed opinions on s4 with most being upset (or at least disappointed) with the ultimate execution of sana’s storyline and I agree w that. while s4 means so much to me and has a really special place in my heart, I do 100% acknowledge its flaws. ok!!!!!! lets get into it😤

ep1 -as much as I wished isak stayed in kollektivet I’m glad he and even had a rlly sweet happy time this entire season. also evak making their friends move all their furniture while they whisper romantic shit to each other and makeout? peak comedy -you fuckin wish!!! -sana is the one to say “of course you should tell noora about william”.. she Knew and still takes the fall for it :( -this opening clip is such a jarring shift into sana’s pov!! e.g. while easy to overlook in previous seasons, sana’s exclusion from the girls is glaringly obvious once we’re looking through her eyes -adding onto that! sana is the friend who notices everyone else- she’s so observant, which hurts even more when you notice her friends don’t do the same (except mayhaps chris- in my heart of hearts I know chris is also the friend who notices and goes unnoticed, but unfortunately we don’t get enough of her and sana’s relationship this season to fully see that) -yousef and the balloon squad’s entrance.... ICONIC! also I cant believe for 2 seasons they presented those dickbag nissen 97s as the be all end all of hot amazing boys when the bakka third years were RIGHT THERE like,, the penetrators vs. balloon squad + even? no contest ma’am -also! it’s so interesting that we literally had no idea sana had a brother, or that yousef etc existed until now? it’s as if she has a whole private world at home, separate from her friends and nissen (and I think a theme of this season is those two worlds merging) -im obsessed w the yousana train scene but yousef being the only one who notices sana standing off to the side? ;-; -fy faen is such a stunning clip oh my god. when sana leaves to pray? possibly my favourite skam scene ever. it’s exquisite.  -sana is so cute and awkward squeezing thru the crowd shsdhgfhshdf I LOVE her love her -the last shot on yousef and noora... oh my GOD oh my god bc like. being that friend who never ever tells your real feelings or your crushes or is vulnerable with your friends?? and then having to listen to them talk about how good your crush would be with someone else (especially one of ur friends) while ur sitting there silently dying inside? and you don’t say anything since you can’t be vulnerable with your friends and u don’t think u stand a chance anyways so. (in the words of s3 noora. I think sana struck a nerve with the emotional unavailability! abbey r u ok) -this episode is a masterpiece and did such a phenomenal job of both introducing us to sana’s perspective while also touching on a multitude of her struggles AND establishing the themes of the season. plus the cinematography, editing, soundtrack and aesthetic...... o baby. (case in point I deadass just rewatched it after writing this)

ep2 -every shot of sana praying is beautiful (and beautifully edited!!) -sana’s room is usually messy... not smart enough to fully analyze this but I’m sure it means something  -an interesting contrast of what’s expected of her vs. of elias- I can’t speak for muslim families, but I know even in non-muslim families girls are always held to suchhh a higher standard (source: I have 2 brothers rip) -”if you find immaturity charming” hilarious bc sana actually does in fact find immaturity charming  -what’s interesting is how noora comes across in sana’s POV- kinda obnoxious, kinda ignorant, seemingly perfect (compared to how noora is portrayed in eva’s season, for example) -even is one of those ppl who uses the bill gates argument on why dropping out of school makes u richer sdfhfsjskfjfsd -sana staring down the pepsi max squad. fuck em up. -vilde adding magnus to the groupchat jfkjsjfdjfsfsdkj -isak missing eskild :’) sidenote I fucking live for isak and sana’s chats this season. they’re literally my lifeblood like.... 

ep3 -the kiss me scene god I go FERAL -“you need to pull it towards you, not push it away. okay?” yall mind if i SCREAM!! YOUSEF!!!!!!!!!! -there rlly is something about seeing sana, who in everyone else’s POV comes off as cold and harsh and stoic, just absolutely meltinggg when she talks w yousef like she doesn’t stop smiling she’s so sweet!!!! ah🥰 and yousef is 100% that guy who ppl tell “your gf is so intimidating and ruthless bro” and he’s like are y’all talking about sana??????? my baby?? my fuckin cinnamon apple????? -yousef’s lil smile watching sana peel carrots. 911 it’s me again -vilde and sana’s relationship has a really interesting dynamic bc like.. vilde says ignorant shit to sana while also genuinely looking up to her. and sana is probably the harshest to vilde within the group but it’s because she actually values their friendship a lot  -IM HURT BECAUSE YOU NEVER REPLIED TO MY MEME -sana pulling 2yr old receipts off the top of her head to defend vilde. god I stan -sana doin research taking notes..... shameful she isn’t canonically a virgo (honestly her and isak both but like-) -she’s so soft and smiley w her mamma awh... “of course he likes you, who doesn’t like you?” her mamma only knows the real, gentle, beautiful loving sana oh im CRY -even is so kind and loving and thoughtful yall mind if i....... -”you can’t escape the internet girl” foreshadowing mayhaps?

ep4 -david and ulrikke together are fucking hilarious -noora’s “you’re lucky you don’t have to think about this stuff, heartbreak and that” :/ it’s not just vilde who says ignorant things to sana! -that being said sana and noora are cute asf in the exper5 scene.. dorky noora rise (omg josefine and her yogurt in the bloopers too sjhfkjdf) -I HANDLE BALLS BETTER THAN YOU -the yousana scene is sooo gorgeous whew...... -I always cry a lil bit (ok a lot) when yousef brings up even. and sana knew too. even sweetie ily :( -sana talking about her religion is beautiful. it’s so lovely to learn about how she thinks and sees the world. -yousef’s smile watching sana leave like ur kidding right....... -“flawless since 99″ is so cringey. it’s so cringeyyy -sana uses “smh” I knew we were soulmates

ep5 -eavesdropping on ur parent/brother’s argument is peak sibling culture -when ur always paranoid but ur always right..... -sana’s green jumpsuit sign me up babey -I really really really love elias and sana’s conversation -u dont even realize how tiny sana is until she’s standing next to isak and even -not finding out why yousef avoided the fight and why he kissed noora will haunt me forever (could we not have expanded more on that instead of noorhelm.......) -the parallel of sana washing isak’s blood off her hands vs. her washing her hands during maghrib in episode 1. gotta sit down. -vilde gossiping to the pepsimax girls stings SO bad it’s just such a betrayal?:( -“the other girls seem cool, especially noora! she’s so pretty!” ok much to unpack here but: sana again comparing herself to noora (who she sees as /perfect/)... sana being written off despite putting so much effort and passion into the russ bus while noora, who has done literally nothing and at best is indifferent to russ, is the one they like the most. disgusteng -love will tear us apart.. bitch..... -sana abt to cry god I can’t -if sana is anything like me (I mean I think she is but jkjjkhsdfhfsd). looking stupid is the absolute worst so like, her sending out emails abt being bus boss when she was actually being lied to? being played? and her being “paranoid” about sara being shady, but deciding hey maybe im just being crazy? except she wasn’t she was right and she Knew!! and she’s probably thinking how dumb it was for her to get her hopes up, everything always ends badly anyways and no one actually likes her :((((((( -dont rlly know what my feelings are on the fight. im not against it bc isak does have a temper but his apparent motive always seemed weak to me?? and god I feel so bad for even

ep6 -forgot about sana getting bullied in middle school yall mind if I sob?? -sana lying and getting defensive bc it’s hard to be vulnerable, or because she hates looking stupid? or both?:( -isak looking up dandelions in his textbook just bc even put one behind his ear. I HATE this man -sana’s dad asking if she had a bad day aw :( -all the boys (and sana) wearing black but yousef wearing white.... what does it mean.............. -the carrots are back goddammit -radio station playing during this scene: “if I have to choose between the just non-muslim and the unjust muslim, without any doubt I would choose the non-muslim who is just” -ISAK’S NOSE SFFJDFJFSDKJSDF -sana’s text about chris I’m going to bawl my eyes out.           “yeah! looking forward (to going to nissen) but a bit worried. don’t know               anyone else starting there.”           (J: new friends?) “yes, at least one of them. I have german with her (chris)           and she’s very cool!” -the contrast of how blunt sana came off when we’re first introduced to her vs. how she was really just excited to make a new friend bc she was scared no one would like her :( especially knowing her past with bullying and how nervous she was to start at nissen? chris baby I LOVE YOU thank u ;-; -also sana keeping 2yr old conversations on her phone... same -sana is honestly too smart and scheming and overthinking for her own good. she has these elaborate plans that more-or-less always get ruined by her being more kind than she gives herself credit for (e.g. wanting to protect vilde in s1, clearing isak’s name in s4) -everyone in skam texts back so fast smh -chris calling sana “sonic”...... a moment please -I cannot watch the sana/evak apartment scene without thinking of the bloopers and losing it lmfaoooo.. “this is where we live. just come in” -ik it’s based off fanart but there is little I hate more than their matching outfits  -“remember you’re both geniuses!” 🥺even  -once again isak studying is uhhhh me - “you’re a good person” yall i love isak i really do. he puts his foot in his mouth pretty often and doesn’t have a great brain-to-mouth filter and he can be awkward and rambly and blunt and unsure of what to say in emotional situations but also? he’s so genuine. it’s just his honest thoughts and he says it bc he cares about sana and knows she needs to hear it!! -ᶠᵃᵉⁿ ᵉᵛᵉⁿ -sana’s inner turmoil.. thank u iman for inventing acting (ik I haven’t mentioned it much yet but god iman is SUCH a phenomenal actor I owe her my life) -LETS GO BITCHES

ep7 -sana crying silently in her room breaks my fucking heart (IMAN!!!!)  -idk how I feel about the instagram plot but sana watching as her plan falls into place and then storming up to sara... pretty bada$$ -“it’s creepy it was published but it’s more creepy we have a bus boss who talks shit about everyone” THANK YOU vilde -i love s4 isak thanks -sana and jamilla’s chat aw :~) -how awkward do yall think the walk to the bench was lmfao -what sana tells isak is SO powerful and I love it a lot -isak does actually make a good point- the other girls are like that too.  -unfortunately I have been in situations isak describes, where you want to learn more about your friend’s culture or religion because you care about them and you’re genuinely interested, but you don’t know what questions are okay to ask and you don’t want to sound rude or ignorant, so you ultimately end up asking no questions at all. but I hate that the responsibility is put on sana to constantly educate people bc I cannot imagine how exhausting that must be [[[ok so. I know there are VERY mixed opinions on the bench scene but here’s my dumbass two cents. 1- I genuinely think isak was trying to make sana feel better by attempting to relate to her and pass on advice that really helped him. however, I don’t think isak realized what sana eventually told him- that her experience wearing the hijab is a lot different than isak’s experience as a gay man. do I agree with everything isak said? nooo. do I understand why he said it? yeah. 2- it was not isak’s place to tell sana norwegians aren’t racist, or not to look for racism in questions. I think there’s some truth to ppl often just being ignorant, and he does add that there are probably a lot of racist people in Norway, but yeah. not great. 3- in conclusion I think while isak shared some meaningful advice w sana, he put his foot in his mouth too and said some stupid shit. im not trying to defend that. I will add, though: a. we actually do see some growth on isak’s part. when he and even are yelled at on the street, that’s the moment it clicks for him that oh shit, this is what sana was talking about. this is what she has to experience? and that’s why he texts noora, “in the speech for sana, you have to include how insanely strong she is. I don’t think many people understand how much bullshit she has to take” and b. isak’s (bad) advice of “not looking for the racism in things” is ultimately contrasted by yousef (a moc who lived most of his life as a muslim) suggesting instead to show people what islam really is. and that’s so much more meaningful. I think the root of a lot of the issues isak brought up- i.e. ignorance- is a general lack of education, representation, or effort by non-muslim people to seek out information themselves. so sana leading by example and showing what it means to her to be muslim is so much more powerful.]]] -𝒃𝒂𝒎!  -BEST BUDS 🥺

ep8 -haper du har plass weaving in and out of this episode until the chorus finally breaks when the los losers van shows up...... miss julie 😭 -oh my god the pictures. im a fucking MESS bc they’re not only significant to the scene and to sana but also like,, as part of our goodbye to the girls?? -the balloon squad and even :( while the timeline of them reconciling within just this week is kinda wack, seeing even back with his friends looking so happy makes my heart uwu so i’ll allow it just this once -eva’s message to vilde about her and magnus being able to trust each other w/o reading their texts... growth or irony -chris is such a phenomenal friend (and this is why I wanted more of her in s4!!) -sana’s phonecall to the girls breaks my fucking heart bc like. right off the bat she’s finally being vulnerable with them?? telling them about her fears and insecurities and struggles? typing this im gonna start crying lol but god I love her so much. she’s so brave and she put all that on the line bc all she really cares about are her friends, she loves them SO much even if (she thinks) they don’t love her back -lowkey sobbed so hard during the haper du har plass clip I almost threw up and it gave me a headache :)  -anyways this is one of my favourite skam clips and god just. the moment you hear the girls calling for sana??? I LOSE it. when sana just starts BEAMING omg🤧 the girls love sana and support her and if you fuck with sana you fuck with us!!!!!! god. cannot articulate how dear to my heart this scene is. -haper du har plass feels like the end of the episode and the party clip is kinda just tacked on but I love how happy everyone is!! they’re all drinking champagne (who taught isak how to hold things) and dancing and smilingggg 💛 -yousana rise!!!!!!!!  -ok don’t get me wrong I hate william for crashing the party but their entrance slow-mo kinda slaps.... also sana popping up in between noorhelm SENDS me

ep9 -this is the point in the season where the amount of time dedicated to noorhelm is beyond beyond beyond significantly damaging to the story. this is sana’s last episode!! instead of having them makeout in front of william’s car for 20 minutes mayhaps we could’ve had a conversation between the girls and sana, or with her brother (if they had continued the elias alcoholism plotline rip), or maybe even with jamilla or her mamma? like I don’t care at ALL about noora or william. give me anything else. ple a s e -what makes skam scenes so brilliant is their quiet moments!! julie let the scene breathe. not everything needs a tacky song playing over top. -I’ve said this abt like twenty clips now but MAGHRIB. oh my GOD. an absolute masterpiece and definitely tied for my all time favourite skam clip. can’t rlly put into words how stunning it is. & I love sana and yousef’s conversation so much. -“of course I brought food! my name is yousef!” mr. acar you’re the only man I trust

ep10 -as much as my heart yearns for 10 sana episodes I think splitting up the last episode of skam into individual POV clips for different characters was brilliant and such a poignant way to say goodbye :( -okay don’t think about what sana could’ve written in her texts to everyone or ur heart will go sicko mode -I won’t write anything abt this ep since I’ve already written too much but like.. (elias should’ve gotten a clip instead of william. pchris can stay because his clip was funny but he’s on thin fuckin ice) -kjaere sana was such a beautiful way to say goodbye to skam. so yeah. bye skam. i miss you. 

overall ➔I’m not really sure why (possibly a lethal combination of my undying love for sana bakkoush, how much I relate to her, this but my ass was crying EVERY single episode of season 4...... F ➔I’m obsessed with s4′s aesthetic. imo the best editing, soundtrack and cinematography of any season!!!! julie is so talented at making each season feel distinct- to me, sana’s season is cool, vibrant colours (aka the late-night sunset aesthetic- gabie i hear u laughing shut up), crisp electronic/pop music and rap, ethereal city nights..... also sana has the best style of any skam character it had to be said ➔sana’s growth! seeing her open up and be honest and vulnerable with the girls during that phone call. sana sending all of her friends literally the sweetest messages of how much they mean to her and how much she values their relationship. sana being the (MUCH) bigger person and making amends with sara, ingrid etc. I love her so much :’((( ➔I’ve thought a lot about what I would change in season 4 and honestly? im a mf scatterbrain and have no real, structured ideas. my biggest issue is too much noora. dream s4 would be william staying in london and noora being happy on her own (but not rly on her own bc she has the girls and kollektivet!). as :/ as I am about the noora/yousef plotline, I’m not really sure what I’d do to replace the yousana conflict in ep5. maybe involving elias, or the balloon squad and even? related to that- in lieu of all the noora/noorhelm screentime, I would so much rather have a follow-up plot to elias’s drinking problem bc it was kinda just dropped? at the very least, the william clip should’ve been elias’s. I also would've killed for more one-on-one scenes with chris (even vilde or eva!), jamilla, even, members of the balloon squad... there are so many interesting stories that could’ve been explored instead of going down the noorhelm rabbithole again. furthermore, I feel like the social media plot was a bit... weak? again I’ve tried thinking of what I would’ve done instead (while also keeping the haper du har plass clip, y’all can pry that one from my cold dead hands) to little avail. what especially threw me about this plotline is that sana did this in s2 to jamilla, fucked up, and it bit her in the ass. I know that she gets irrational when angry but from a storytelling perspective, it seems repetitive. just.. I feel like there could’ve been a more powerful plot in which sana follows the same character arc. another thing I would’ve loved to see is beyond the los losers van, an apology from the girls to sana. or even just a conversation where they tell her “hey sana, we’re sorry for not paying attention and we’re sorry for being thoughtless/ignorant.” an apology from vilde about things she’s said in the past would’ve been <3. even a gesture! the girls order pizza again but this time it’s halal, or they make an effort to learn about sana’s religion and culture. I know it’s implied through the letter they write for sana, but a final standalone scene would’ve been so nice.  ➔i’ve noticed soo many remakes do this thing where they like.. water down shitty behaviour of their characters. which like- sure. I would love for everyone to be kind and thoughtful and not as horrible as they could be but also... I think that’s the point of skam? to show that people fuck up, but that doesn’t define them as a person. no one is perfect and no one can be thoughtful and considerate and kind all the time. and often these ‘problematic’ actions are integral to the story- e.g. elias saying stupid comments to isak (related to isak’s internalized homophobia and fear of coming out to his friends), the girl squad being ignorant about what sana can eat, etc. so..... your remake is not better because it erased every horrible action every character has done. (nuance.. where r u.........) ➔despite its flaws, I will say- the good moments of season 4? ineffable. I think we sometimes forget that julie literally wrote, directed, and I believe (?) assisted w editing and soundtrack too. i cant imagine doing all that under so much pressure, trying to bring so many storylines to a conclusion whilst simultaneously creating a goodbye-season to a show she put her life into the past two years. I’m so fucking appreciative of her. and you know what? all in all julie wrote some pretty damn beautiful episodes and scenes, and you can tell she loves this show just as much as we do. ➔and honestly this is maybe one reason I’m more wary of watching remake s4′s, bc like.. this season meant SO much bc it was the last season of skam. we knew it was the last season. the final episode is more or less a love letter, a goodbye to the show. whereas w some remakes (do i have to say whomst) its  like.. that love isnt there. it’s just another season. yknow? in conclusion I miss skam so much :(

ok whew if ur reading this ur a champion but also why did you just read 5k of me rambling about how much I love sana bakkoush?? 

[ofthemuses]

True Detective Sentence Meme: Season One (another of my favorites, well, the first season at least.)

WARNING: Triggering content, NSFW content, religion/death/violence/sex/drugs/suicide mentioned. Lots of foul language 

Regular Quotes

I'd consider myself a realist, alright? But in philosophical terms I'm what's called a pessimist...

Oh, just a regular type dude... with a big ass dick.

People out here, it's like they don't even know the outside world exists. Might as well be living on the fucking Moon.

It's all one ghetto man.

Stop saying shit like that. It's unprofessional.

So what's the point of getting out of bed in the morning?

I tell myself I bear witness, but the real answer is that it's obviously my programming. And I lack the constitution for suicide.

Let's make the car a place of silent reflection from now on.

Can I ask you something? You're a Christian, yeah?

I know who I am. And after all these years, there's a victory in that.

Can you get pills pretty easy?

Listen, when you're at my house, I want you to chill the fuck out.

There's nothing I can do about it. Maybe not today, maybe not tomorrow, but... I'm gonna have a drink.

Given how long its taken for me to reconcile my nature, I can't figure I'd forgo it on your account.

Hmm. That sounds God-fucking-awful.

Isn't that a beautiful way to go out, painlessly as a happy child?

Trouble with dying later is you've already grown up. The damage is done. It's too late.

I can be hard to live with. I don't mean to, but I can be... critical.

Sometimes I think I'm just not good for people, that it's not good for them to be around me. 

Such holy bullshit from you. It's a woman's body, ain't it? A woman's choice.

Girls walk this Earth all the time screwin' for free. Why is it you add business to the mix and boys like you can't stand the thought? I'll tell you. It's cause suddenly you don't own it the way you thought you did.

Is shitting on any moment of decency part of your job description?

Nothing man, sorry, forget it.

You got some self loathing to do this morning, that's fine, but it ain't worth losing your hands over.

What's your deal?

I don't have "a deal".

You're kinda strange, like you might be dangerous.

Of course I'm dangerous. I'm police. I can do terrible things to people with impunity.

Now what do you mean exactly... these visions you mentioned.

Shiiiiit, just what have you two heard about me?

What the hell good is cake if you can't eat it?

You know, throughout history, I bet every old man probably said the same thing. And old men die, and the world keeps spinnin'.

What do you think the average IQ of this group is, huh?

Just observation and deduction. I see a propensity for obesity. Poverty. A yen for fairy tales.

I think it's safe to say nobody here's gonna be splitting the atom.

You see that. Your fucking attitude. 

 Not everybody wants to sit alone in an empty room beating off to murder manuals.

Yeah, well if the common good's gotta make up fairy tales, then it's not good for anybody.

Well, I don't use ten dollar words as much as you, but for a guy who sees no point in existence, you sure fret about it an awful lot.

I mean, can you imagine if people didn't believe, what things they'd get up to?

Exact same thing they do now. Just out in the open.

Bullshit. It'd be a fucking freak show of murder and debauchery and you know it.

If the only thing keeping a person decent is the expectation of divine reward, then brother that person is a piece of shit; and I'd like to get as many of them out in the open as possible.

Well, I guess your judgment is infallible, piece-of-shit-wise.

You figure it's all a scam, huh? All them folks? They just wrong?

People incapable of guilt usually do have a good time.

Do you wonder ever if you're a bad man?

World needs bad men. We keep the other bad men from the door.

But I think I'm all fucked up.

You don't have to fall in love at first sight, you know.

Every time I think you've hit a ceiling, you, you keep raising the bar. You're like the Michael Jordan of being a son of a bitch.

Fuuuck! Hell of a bedside manner you've got.

Ahh, you know, being stupid is different than going in sick, and this is a bar, not a fuckin' bedside.

All the dick swagger you roll, you can't spot crazy pussy?

So, enough with the self-improvement-penance-hand-wringing shit. Let's go to work.

Oh God damn it, I am so done talking to you like a man.

What the fuck you think I want with you, huh?

I'm sorry. What are you suggesting, exactly?

I will skull-fuck you, you bitch!

This is none of my business... I don't want to hear it.

Do you know the good years when you're in them, or do you just wait for them until you get ass cancer?

What always happens between men and women? Reality.

Someone once told me time is a flat circle.

The newspapers are gonna be tough on you.

No, buddy, without me... there is no you.

Yeah. Fuck this. Fuck this world.

You know, people that give me advice, I reckon they're talking to themselves.

A man's game charges a man's price. Take that away from this, if nothing else.

I'm the person least in the need of counseling in this entire fucking state.

Thought maybe we should talk.

If you get the opportunity, you should kill yourself.

Hey, man, look. Why don't you just get out of here, please? I don't want to get arrested. Just - just get... before I do something to you.

I slept with someone... And you know him/her... You're close.

Oh... Now, what-what are you saying?... What - what are you - what the fuck are you saying to me?

Life's barely long enough to get good at one thing. So be careful what you get good at.

If you were drowning, I'd throw you a fuckin' barbell.

Why would I ever help you?

Hey. You better get those jumper cables ready, the motherfucker is lying.

Get on out of here, you're classin' the place up.

My family's been here a long, long time.

He ain't gonna talk with you.

I got a car battery and two jumper cables argue different.

A man remembers his debts.

Fuck, I don't like this place... Nothing grows in the right direction.

What happened in my head is not something that gets better.

Well you know what, I just got here; I was gonna leave, but then you woke up - Jesus, what's your fuckin' problem?

Not a care in the world.

I'm not supposed to be here.

Yeah... well, I'll come back by tomorrow, buddy.

Don't ever change, man.

Agh. Ah, fuck. Ah, he got me pretty good...

Do I strike you as a talker or a doer?

You'll rip out your fucking stitches. Stop it.

This is the place.

Everybody's got a choice, ____... Shit, I sure blamed you.

There you go... Everybody's got a choice.

It's hard to find something in a man who rejects people as much as you do, you know that?

Come die with me, little priest.

The DEEP SHIT™

I think human consciousness is a tragic misstep in evolution.

There can be a burden in authority, in vigilance, like a father's burden.

I think the honorable thing for our species to do is to deny our programming. Stop reproducing, walk hand in hand into extinction - one last midnight, brothers and sisters opting out of a raw deal. 

This place is like somebody's memory of a town, and the memory is fading.

I contemplate the moment in the garden; the idea of allowing your own crucifixion.

I don't sleep, I just dream. 

You got kids? I think of the hubris it must take, to yank a sole out of nonexistence into this meat; a force of life into this thresher.

I know who I am. And after all these years, there's a victory in that.

Yeah, back then, the visions, yeah most of the time I was convinced... Shit... I'd lost it. But there were other times... I thought I was mainlining the secret truth of the universe.

I mean, it's like somethin's got your name on it, like a bullet or a nail in the road...

People... so goddamn frail they'd rather put a coin in the wishing well than buy dinner.

This... This is what I'm talking about. This is what I mean when I'm talkin' about time, and death, and futility.

They welcomed it... not at first, but... right there in the last instant. It's an unmistakable relief. See, cause they were afraid, and now they saw for the very first time how easy it was to just... let go.

All your life--you know, all your love, all your hate, all your memories, all your pain--it was all the same thing. It was all the same dream, a dream that you had inside a locked room, a dream about being a person.

And like a lot of dreams, there's a monster at the end of it.

You see, we all got what I call a life trap - a gene deep certainty that things will be different...

Nothing's ever fulfilled, not until the very end. And closure - nothing is ever over.

I have seen the finale of thousands of lives, man. Young, old, each one so sure of their realness. You know that their sensory experience constituted a unique individual with purpose and meaning. So certain that they were more than biological puppet. The truth wills out, and everybody sees. Once the strings are cut, all fall down.

In eternity, where there is no time, nothing can grow. Nothing can become. Nothing changes. So Death created time to grow the things that it would kill.

And you are reborn, but into the same life that you've always been born into. I mean, how many times have we had this conversation? Well, who knows?

When you can't remember your lives, you can't change your lives, and that is the terrible and the secret fate of all life. You're trapped by that nightmare you keep waking up into.

I can see your soul at the edges of your eyes. It's corrosive, like acid. 

Sometimes... this feeling like life has slipped through your fingers... like the future is behind you, like it's always been behind you.

There's a shadow on you, son.

I saw you in my dream. You're in Carcosa now with me... He sees you... You'll do this again... Time is a flat circle.

There's no such thing as forgiveness. People just have short memories.

All my life I wanted to be nearer to God. But the only nearness - silence.

Some people, no matter where they look, they see themselves.

You see, sometimes people... mistake a child as an answer for something, you know, like a way to change their story.

Look, as sentient meat, however illusory our identities are, we craft those identities by making value judgments: everybody judges, all the time. Now, you got a problem with that... You're livin' wrong.

Once there was only dark. If you ask me, the light's winning.

[autismgavemychildvaccines]

Why I’m Ashamed to Be Christian

So, now that I am literally sick of the Measles nonsense (no, fucking literally, working 12+ hour shifts on an incident management team has got me sick and tired enough to call in tomorrow), I’ve decided to do a non PH rant, though it’ll for sure rear it’s fucking head somewhere in here. Instead, let’s tackle something real fun. Religion! Time to buckle up.  In my half fucking awake daze that I was just nudged out of, something really wild hit me. My faith, my belief in a very specific God with a specific book (though I admit that other religions, so long as their origin is not a company or a tool to oppress others on the outset, are valid/likely just as true) makes no God damned sense.  (For reference, here I will claim my most closely related sect as my own; American Evangelism [though if one were to ask in person I’d say “non-denominational”, but historically, the two are close] and will be speaking as a part of a community I used to closely belong to but now have drifted away from on some granola-crunching dumbassery that is “I am a church of one” bullshit. I’ve wanted to be other things, but ever since I left the Freemasons, fuck all else has had much appeal.) So, first things first, Garden of Eden, right? Pretty fucking cool place, some might have even called it a perfect garden, a perfect place for humans and God to interact? But here’s my hang up with it. The trees of Life and Knowledge, and the rule that Adam and Eve could eat of any fruit except those grown upon that pair. Why even fucking have them?

 When I asked that as a kid in a faith based area, they said because it was a test.

 Of what?

 “Well, of our loyalty to God and our Faith, of course”. 

Except again, what the fuck? Like, I get the idea of free-will, in fact I am a huge believer in individual free will (I’ll get to that in a sec), but here’s the stickler here. As any other creative type will tell you, we want our work to take on a life of its own. Like say I wanted to program a remarkably bright AI, and it worked, and all I wanted was for it to recognize me as its creator and to discover and enjoy what home I could make for it. You know what I wouldn’t do? I wouldn’t give an AI, even with some simulated free will, the ability to break certain rules. For example, I wouldn’t allow it unrestricted access to the internet or my personal accounts. I wouldn’t even give it the concept that such things existed, let alone put it right fucking there to be used. That would be a flaw, an imperfection in an otherwise perfect place. And yeah, there’s something to be said for giving free will with not-free consequences, sure. But two things: 1) Don’t be pissed when the thing happens that you allowed to exist in the first place and thus forced it to be a mathematical certainty now that you’re dealing with perhaps the most curious species to ever exist.  2) Don’t go blaming them for a lack of faith. If anything, it’s a self-fulfilling prophecy, an act that abusers often use to get what they really want and have a thin veneer of an excuse to make happen. Now doesn’t that sound a lot like a good number of the followers of this faith, as opposed to an almighty, omnipotent, powerful being? Hmm, something to consider there, maybe.  Speaking of followers, let’s actually also take a look at some of the prophets that we as American Christians often hold so dear. Now me? I’m a Luke guy, I like Luke. Peaceful, loving gospel for the most part, and I dig it. Peace and love, baby, that’s all I want coming from stories regarding a higher power that we had to hang up like a fucking tapestry to make sure we got all that love. But do you know who I fucking hate, and who I blame the most for how the American chruch is? Paul/Saul of Tarsus. Thiiiiiiiiiiis prick. This fucking Deus Vult Vulture. Actually in many ways, he really is the archetype to the Modern Evangelical fucking anything. Actively participated in the harassing, attempted extinguishing and successful terrorizing of a marginalized group. Then after being hit back for it, literally “seeing the light” and trying to be the fucking vanguard of said group only to lead it down a path where he’s suddenly the appointed expert of anything to do with the issue. And while he does this, he helps create the most violent and bigoted thoughts in the whole of the religion, and is praised for his visions as he says they are truly from God, and can thus act oh so righteously. This right here is a fucking problem, y’all. Like, I know the whole forgiveness idea allows for some mental gymnastics on how this could even happen, but even then to make a genocidal ass-face your de-facto leader aside from Christ himself for the next 2000 years is a fucking flip that even at the 1988 Olympics, if Christians were America, Russia would give them a straight 10/10.    And yet, for many of us, that’s exactly what we’ve done. Hell, we’ve even fallen into the forced victim narrative of the synopsis of this asshole:  “Oh well, you see, I was a heathen and thus I couldn’t help myself, but then like, the God of the people I was killing talked to me and like, now I have to do this (Take on the “burden” of leading the church) as penance for what I couldn’t help myself over.” We’ve fallen for it so much, that it may as well be hard wired into our nervous system to believe anything resembling it, just as we assume if something is flat, green and on a tree, it’s a leaf.  Maybe it’s why we as a religion (and let’s face it, other Abrahamic religions as well) are so damn good at beating down the marginalized while screaming that we are the saints, we’re the sacrificiers trying to make things better. Like, let’s have some modern day fun with this bullshit, man; let’s see how we treated and in many places continue to treat women.  Of the few churches I have been to, 100% of them had one dual-sided message that made me real fuckin’ uncomfortable, fam:  Part 1) That women cannot be trusted onto themselves and thus 2) Men must take control of them and society to not allow for some unspecified “Ridiculous bullshit”.  (as a fair heads up; I do fully recognize non-binary, trans individuals, etc, but for the sake of brevity I’ll be mostly referring to M/F in the traditional sort of way, because opening up Christianity’s treatment of anything regarding gender fluidity is a Ph.D. thesis for another day)  Now, I don’t know about y’all, but I know damn well that out of all the dudes I know, and all the lasses I know, they’re a pretty mixed fuckin’ bunch. It’s almost like their gender assigned at birth doesn’t really affect how reasonable they could be as people nor how much responsibility they should have. Obviously some cultural practices skew this quite a bit in so far that women are expected to take more responsibility, younger, and for less praise, but if anything that should help destroy, not reinforce that message.  And yet, the idea persists so much in Christian circles. And not just by the men themselves, but the women, also. For the longest time of my church going days, the pastor was a woman. She wholly believed it was just and right that her husband be in charge of everything, that women should be loyal to their men in all aspects. Then again, she also (despite recruiting members primarily from college) did not believe in evolution at all, so there’s that in terms of an intellectual hurdle. But regardless, this inherent submissive attitude within the faith (and even the half-hearted and self-congratulatory “Yeah but we REALLY are the ones making the decisions because we can withhold sex if we want” is essentially that too just a smidgen more empowering), when combined with the idea that men should be wholly in-control (which is a breeding ground for toxic masculinity if there ever was) is shameful. It’s what has allowed so much bullshit in the past, including these recent abortion laws. Now, I’m going to cover abortion in another post (I might get to it tomorrow; It’s been on the burner for weeks), but it’s super pertinent here.  We, as a religion, have allowed ourselves to tell women (just as we tell/told minorities before) that they cannot be trusted with their own bodies, that they cannot be trusted when they speak, and most certainly cannot be trusted to truly hold dominion over anything. And that has allowed the most insidious, hateful, bigoted, disgusting things to happen in the name of God. A God that while I am writing this post I still believe in, but my doubts about how genuine the message has ever been is hitting home. One whose words about peace have been ignored when they could be interpreted or pointed to to support war, where the rich can profit off the poor, or to support sexism, because we as men historically have wanted to control “everything of ours”, or to take the very free will we claim to hold so dear from those who need the ability to make their own decisions the most. Words that have been used to hold down good people from making lives better. Words that in the hands of those who wanted, could be profaned and desecrated and thus allow for profane and disturbing events, both on the grand stage of the world and behind the closed doors of any house in some small town. Words which are held up with a wink and a nod so that followers feel included when they are scammed by some fucking fried chicken joint who wants to make more money to fight against equality, or to pay for another $9 million jet for some asshole who croons about how the poor should be grateful they do not have the temptations of the rich.  To other followers, do you not lament that we are this way? That we have been this way for so long? Because I fucking do.  And to those who have been discriminated or marginalized or whatever else against because of your gender or skin colour or situation or victimization or  past deeds of any sort; I’m sorry. Genuinely, truly sorry you have suffered as you have. Sorry for what people have done thinking it was somehow morally or spiritually justified, sorry that they thought they were saving you. And I can assure you that I will never try to lead you as those before me have tried to. Though if it’s all the same, I’d like to get to hear you, and walk beside you. 

[spacephant0m]

cw for personal talk about religion/spirituality and trying to find myself. Srry for typos

I’m in my room on the verge of tears and switching between crying and having a blank stare, watching brendon’s livestream on my ipad while i type this. I’m trying to study witchcraft to some extent as I’ve never really read much of anything about it before. Specifically I was reading about christian witches. Now the thing is like, i grew up as a christian. And nowadays i still believe in God definitely, but i hate christian practices. I remember reading and studying world religions in college last year and absolutely loving it and being so sad because i never experienced such practices in my own faith that actually seemed..... like, fun, and super connective. Me bawling my eyes out at church camp and being “lost” was not exactly what i originally thought it was. I was just mentally ill and didnt know it. Deep down i always knew i had a connection with God that wasnt faltering over silly shit a kid does wrong. Kid sins. Whatever the fuck. As much as i fucken prayed and asked for forgiveness, i was fine. Christianity is always a race to be closer to God and its like.... how close can i get when im doing the same fucking exact practices over and over.... they never really taught us about meditation and becoming one with your surroundings and idk, letting your spirit free. They kind of talked about it sometimes.

But i just hate the entire setup of church. I miss the family aspect so much. Thats all i miss. I miss bible study but really i just miss the points where we talked about life. Thats usually what we did, we would have an entire lesson setup and it would become totally derailed by our conversations. And it was real and i had a sense of community that i cant get anywhere else. I havent been able to find it anywhere else. But i also miss my personal sense of spirituality. I love that word and i love that it has so many encapsulating meanings. I dont wanna be like a white man self acclaimed guru who’s like read this book it’ll help you change your life....... i feel like those guys really appropriate culture and commercialize it. Its kinda gross. I try not to associate myself with that idea but every time i think about meditating more and shit im like “ew im gonna be a gross white guy whos all at peace w himself and lives in the mountains and shit” AND IT MAKES ME MAD. I’m having a beer right now instead of a cup of tea. Probably a mistake. Tea helps me feel better but im filling my body w shit at the moment bc thats what happens when i get this sad.

Anyways i really hate the idea of practicing a religion. I made a post before asking for sort of an advice on this, like was it okay for me to like witchy things and not actually be one. I was told yes its totally okay. And im not disrespectful of anyone and i dont make fun of any religion. I just persoaally cannot see myself involved with having an actual religion. I dont even consider myself christian so how could i ever proclaim myself as a christian witch, idk.

I dont want to label myself at all. Maybe i dont need any of this. Maybe i just need to play dnd and live vicariously thru my character. Use that shit as therapy. I hear it helps a lot with mental health and social skills. That of which i am verily lacking. I’m just hurting and im pissed off. I dont know why exactly. I just want to do meditation and i wanna buy my crystals and start doing yoga again. This year i have been stretching more. Actually i started on the first of feb. i stretch every day and do vocal exercises to help my voice get more control and deepen it a bit (transmasc).

I am also just a bit overwhelmed at everything. I dont know where to start. All i know is i want to burn incense like i used to growing up bc it always made me happy. And that i only believe in like..... cleansing through these elements and a prayer to God. But i’ve always had faith issues because im so insecure, i never think God will actually help me because maybe i dont deserve it or maybe he just doesnt want to.

I’m also scared im gonna do something wrong or fuck something up. That something bad will happen or something because im dumb. I dont know if i could mix my own herbs that feel right to me, or if i should use a recipe. I feel stupid that i dont have as much faith in prayer as i wish i did, but i have faith that little rocks will help to cleanse negative energy and things like that.

I dont know why im crying, i guess because im so insecure? Or maybe life is just rly hard and i’m overthinking everything. I just feel kinda bad. Yet when my friends tell me theyre praying for me, i do have faith in that and it means the world to me.

I know none of this is a big deal to anyone, and maybe none of it should matter. But im like. Idk. Im very interested in plants and medicines of the earth and shit like i always have been ever since i was young i thought of myself as like. Awakened and shit LOL whatever that means @ 10 year old me. I dont want to feel like anything controls me or owns me, i want to feel like i am in control of my own life and that i could harness the energy around me to not only like bring me peace of mind but to help me through my journey of life.

But i guess my biggest issue is i have no fuckin clue where to start. I hate reading and all this research im trying to do to help myself figure out what i enjoy is just. Making me so fucken overwhelmed. I only read like. 1 blog post and 2 articles and im already losing it. I always grew up w the mindset that God will take care of everything but like. He already has. In my mind. Because he’s already given us all the tools we need. But folks just like. Wanna be lazy and wait for things to happen. Sometimes all u can do is wait but when it comes to like, being THE ONES IN CONTROL, “prayers for america” is dumb as fck.

Idk i dont know anything and its okay to not know right now but i want something more in my life but i want it to be like.... totally personal and i dont want it to be absolutely everything my life revolves around. I want it to just be something i do and that i love. I dont need a label for it. But idk. I just dont know what to do.

If anyone has any sort of advice or is dealing with anything like this i’d love to hear about it. My ask and msgs are open as well. I feel pretty alone right now. Im just patiently waiting for my paycheck tomorrow so i can buy these crystals i rly want. But who knows what it will take to satisfy my hungry soul.

Another problem i rly have honestly is just like. Spending a lot of money on a lot of hobbies. I feel shitty for having so many things i enjoy doing. I try to narrow it down. I havent started embroidery bc i dont wanna spend more money and i feel like i’ll never have enough time to practice. Im just. Mediocre at a lot of things instead of rly super good at one thing. I mean i think im pretty great at drawing but thats about it. But ive been doing that for 10 years so ofc im good at it NOW. But ffs. I wanna do so many things and its overwhelming. I work a minimum wage job and its. I dont have enough money for anything lol so most of my stuff is low-budge† which is fine i guess but. Idk. Im tired. Im sad.

I dont know how to be more spiritual i dont know where to start. And my mind is telling me to slap a label on it or its not anything of value. Which is bullshit. But y’know. Anxiety n shit.

[despairforme]

blood, pride, god

damn ,, ask meme .    

BLOOD. -What types of injuries has your muse sustained? What was the worst?  ( already answered )  PRIDE. -What is your muses biggest flaw? GOD. -Does your muse believe in a god? If so, describe it.

      He already talked about his injuries, and they weren’t THAT interesting, so he wasn’t going to repeat himself. It WAS tempting to talk about them again though, because he’d MUCH rather talk about his past injuries than answer the second question. What was his biggest flaw? He had a TON of things fucking wrong with him, so? Take your fucking pick? The list was really long. What was the worst flaw of them all? He had to think about that for a moment. Definitely, what was worst for himself was that he was so gloomy. He’d feel like shit for absolutely no reason. ‘ Depression ‘, people called it, apparently. Nnoitra hated the thought of being so weak that he’d get something as stupid as depression, but yeah. That’s what THAT was. The heavy feeling that hardly ever went away. If he could remove ONE trait from himself, he’d pick his gloomy nature any day of the week. It had to feel really good, to just be happy. Another bad trait of his was that he was simply a bad person. A terrible person, straight to his core. He had hurt people. He had treated those he cared about the most like shit. He had done things he could never find redemption from. He was treacherous, self-serving, selfish, violent, unfair, untrustworthy, cruel... Yeah. That was just his personality. His life probably would’ve been better if he just STOPPED being himself. But he didn’t know how to stop. He didn’t want to be some fake ass bitch either. He knew he’d end up chasing everyone away. Nobody would ever love him, and if they did - they’d only love him for a short while. Like Kyota had. Like Grimmjow had. MAN he was getting depressed by this!

       ❝ My biggest flaw? Take yer fuckin’ pick. ❞ He held his arms out as if to present himself and all his flaws. ❝ I’d say my shitty mood. Wish I was one’a ‘em happy-go-lucky types. ❞ That would’ve been great.

      The next question - At least that wasn’t so difficult. ❝ My mom raised me ‘ta be a Christian, but I don’t really believe in God or whateva’. ❞ He had mixed feelings about religion. In some ways, he found it comforting if there was a God somewhere. It meant that everything that happened to him HAD HAPPENED because he deserved it. God did punish the wicked after all. It also meant that when he died, he’d go to hell, where he could pay for his sins. That was a comforting feeling, because he definitely knew he deserved to suffer. He also wanted to believe that his mother was in heaven. She deserved that. On the other hand - It was a stupid story, wasn’t it? A man in the sky ruling over the earth? What a fucking fairy tale. The world was fucked up. Unfair shit happened to people every day, so if there was a God, he was one sadistic son of a bitch. And - why would he make bad people in the first place? Why had he created Nnoitra to be like this? So many questions, and no answers. That was what made it hard to believe in God. 

[lore-a-lie]

Chapter 2: I Spit on Your Grave Expectations

Daily Life

Kaede wasn’t sure what to expect after that argument, but when she got to the dining hall the next day after washing the crust from her face and the redness from her eyes it was clear things had only gotten worse. Kaito was yelling at Angie about something and their group of friends was visibly split in two, the sets standing on opposite sides of the hall, but that wasn’t what concerned her the most. Kibo was.

He was pink now. Every bit of his previous gentle cyan lighting was gone, leaving only the nearly toxic looking magenta glow in its place. Even the glare he gave her was an intense pink rather than his previous desaturated blue, which shook her for reasons she couldn’t explain beyond feeling “wrong”.

And as around his neck, catching the light despite the shadows there, was Miu’s layered necklace he salvaged the night before, clean and repaired, she didn’t need to wonder why he did. That was a fair enough warning for what this was about.

Kaede wasn’t a good enough leader for them so Angie wanted to take over her responsibilities.

And had Miu not asked this of me I might have been fine with going along with that. But she did, as our friend, so I can’t give up quite yet. Right? Or did Miu just make another mistake putting her faith in me?

The way the room was divided the two new “groups” was pretty clear. Those in support of Angie’s new leadership were Kibo, Tenko, Tsumugi, Kirumi, and Gonta. Her friends that wanted to keep supporting Kaede’s own attempts to protect them were Kokichi, Kiyo, and Kaito’s trio of him, Ryoma, and Maki. (Little wonder this would happen the day I was the last to arrive huh? Not that I’d blame anyone here.)

“Kaito, please calm down! Let’s just try to talk about this okay? “This” is about how I’ve been leading everyone so far right? Just tell me what’s going on.”

“Atua doesn’t believe you’ve been doing a good job at keeping everyone safe. You are good at bringing us together, but only in ways that have better enabled us to turn on each other. He doesn’t feel only Monokuma’s motives are at fault for that, as you haven’t tried limiting the means for our betrayals. And so He told me Angie should be the one to lead us now, and to make rules to help protect everyone here! We can’t keep hoping for your dangerous dream of going back outside Kaede, we’ve lost enough of us.”

“And that’s why I’m calling bullshit! How long do you honestly think we could stay here?! Have you seen where our food’s been coming from? Any medical facilities, or even a goddamn nurse’s office?! We can’t trust anything here to keep us alive in the long term you idiot!” Kaito was still furious, for good reason.

He should know more about the dangers of being stuck somewhere without any means of protecting or repairing the resources everyone will be relying on than anyone else here, given his talent and experience. And yet Angie and her supporters kept completely ignoring his warnings and concerns.

“But Atua says it’s safe here, and it’s not like we have any better options. Without a safer alternative it’s plain to see this is the best course of action we can be taking, isn’t it?” (No it isn’t. I need to step in.)

“Tsumugi weren’t you the one to warn me to be wary of cults and con artists? Because it’s sounding like you should be taking your own advice right now you know, you can’t just pretend Kaito’s wrong here.”

“How could she? She and Angie were both Con Artists already aren’t they?” Kokichi mocked, looking for all to see like a cat playing with a canary as both girls glared at him for the pun. (But he’s not really okay with what’s happening here is he? This is too dangerous to allow things to keep going on for long, right?)

“Who are you calling a cult?! We are-” Tenko’s yelling was cut off by a familiar chorus of “Rise and Shine, Ursine”, minus the loudest and deepest voice in their tune. The set of three cubs and their father stood in the middle of the room.

“Hello~ my children! My, my, aren’t you all just chomping at the bit today? At least you’ve got a lot of energy for your exploring later, haven’t you?” The three little cubs kept looking between themselves as their father talked, as if communicating amongst each other while he was distracted talking to the class. “And boy do I have some presents for you~ A wonderful set of rewards for you all surviving so far, won’t that be fun? Come on kids, show them their fantabulous new prizes!”

“No.” The monotone syllable got everyone’s attention, all eyes on the half green bear and his siblings.

“... What? Sorry, must have some stuffing in my belly button, it sounded like you said-”

“Not happening pops. Why should we be listenin’ to ya anymore huh?”

“What do you think you’re playing at kiddo?” Monokuma wasn’t amused by his tiger-striped son’s reply.

“W-we talked about things after the last trial! W-we keep dying and no one cares at all but us! S-so… So we won’t do this anymore! We have the Exisals, so we’ll just do things our way from now on daddy!”

“Though this all bein’ said we prolly should hand out these little doohickies shouldn’t we? But let’s try ta change things up! No more o’ this givin’ you the things and then sit back while you bumbling bastards try to sort their puzzles out business! Each o’ us will keep the keys we got as youse guys figure out where to you’ll need to take us. Will we be helpful? Annoying? Try to lead you astray? Who fuckin’ gives a damn!”

“... This is fine. I mean it’s good you kids are taking some initiative right? This is a good thing for a father to witness, this isn’t a cute lil’ coup d'etat by my Ultimate Lil’ Monokubs or anything, nope not at all.”  

Despite saying that Monokuma was somewhat dazed as he mumbled something about going back home to his cubs who do still like him, sounding somewhat delusional given they’re all here. As he wandered off the pink cub- Monophanie, took out three items to pass out to her remaining brothers. She kept the literal pixelated key for herself, Monosuke was given the ninja scroll, leaving Monodam with the golden hammer. But after doing this the cubs looked at a loss over what they were meant to do next.

“So… Now, what Monosuke? Do we just split up?”

“Uhh… Yeah, sure why not? I don’t wanna to spend any more time with a certain murderer I could mention anyways.” Monosuke gave Monodam a pointed glare at that, but Monophanie’s flailing about trying to deny what he did was more of a response than Monodam’s own stoic stare.

“Then-Let’s-All-Get-Along-With-The-Bastards! Let’s-All-Be-Friends-Now, No-Need-For-Killing-Games!”

“WHAT?! Not a fuckin’ chance, the Killing Game’s the most fun we’ve had! Why should we give it up?”

“I don’t know, making friends could be nice, and no more gross gory bodies to deal with. Let’s give it a try at least, we can always change our minds later right?”

“Fuck that! You two can go play house, or class, or whateva the fuck this shit is but I’m out. If any of yous guys want to use my item I’ll be outside to see if ya can get me ta put it where it needs to go, capisce?” And with that, the bespectacled bear squeakily stormed out the door to the porch as the humans watching things unfold remained speechless. (I mean this is too stupid for words right now isn’t it???)

Angie was the first to break the silence as Monophanie and Monodam kept looking between themselves, their items, and everyone else. “Well we already made ourselves into two groups so this works out well, doesn’t it? Praise be to Atua and his foresight of your own changes of heart!”

“What’s an Atua?” (An excellent question, but not one you should ever ask bear. You’ll see.)

“A term stemming from Polynesian cultures that can mean “power” in a more supernatural sense, like “mana” which is quite different from the apparently common video game concept of the same name. However this typically refers to gods or spirits, in this case specifically for a presumably monotheistic entity that-”

“Atua is Atua silly! He’s all knowing and carefully watches over everyone, like a loving father!” Kiyo did not appreciate being cut off mid-lecture by Angie’s attempt to recruit another member to her cause, but he did at least capture Monodam’s attention.

“Apparently common”? Has he not played any games with it before? That’s weird. I wonder if this means Himiko told him about that before she… When they talked before the show. She knew a lot about that sort of thing, so it might have been what helped her and Angie bond too.

“Angie told Gonta Atua was like Grandma, Atua change?”

“Yup-yup! Atua changes to whatever He feels will help those He cares for best after all!”

“That-Sounds-Rather-Unreliable. And-Convenient-If-You-Are-Making-Him-Up, To-Claim-He-Is-Where Ever-You-Say-He-Is. How-”

“It’s is not the place of mortals to question Him or His divine grace you know?” (And so hails the return of Angie’s scary face, oh joy. If there is a God why do I need to be the one to put up with this right now?)

“No-I-Did-Not. But-Father-Claimed-He-Was-Our-God-Too-And-Look-At-Him-Now. We-Don’t-Need-Yours, Right-Monophanie?”

“Hmm, but Daddy was lying about that wasn’t he? Maybe this “God” is different. Why not give it a try?”

“I-Do-Not-Want-To. It-Doesn’t-Seem-To-Be-Helping-Others-To-Get-Along, Just-Making-Them-Fight.”

“Religion has been known to do both, faith can be quite the terrifying thing when taken to extremes. Particularly those that leave no room for compromise or allow themselves to mix with their neighbors. Among many pantheons, it’s common to find deities that in fact originated somewhere else and became incorporated over time to help pacify and better unite with other cultures.” (Nice trivia Kiyo, but no one cares.)

“Why not you come with us then Monodam, while Monophanie can go with Angie’s? Are you going to tell us where your item belongs? I don’t think I’ve seen anything for it before.”

“I-Don’t-Think-”

“I like that plan! Let’s go!”

Monophanie was quick to leave with Angie’s cult, which upset the remaining bear. If his goal was staying as a group he was proving pretty bad at it with how eager his siblings were to avoid him, given his involvement with Monokid’s death and their own personalities. But seeing Kaede’s expectant face he lit back up again, seeing them as other people he could try to “get along with” instead of his siblings.

“That’s-Because-You-Haven’t-Yet! It-Is-Up-Stairs-With-The-New-Labs, I-Will-Show-You!”

Alas, he forgot the stairs he was thinking of were still locked behind the supposed mural of the pixelated door that required Monophanie’s key to open, so Kaede had to hurry after Angie to see about that first.

After some negotiations between the two it was agreed that since the Magic Key had the most obvious use and Monodam’s item would be used in the area it unlocked Angie’s group would be headed outside to solve Monosuke’s Ninja Scroll puzzle instead.

Monophanie was rather relieved this would mean she wouldn’t need to go to the fourth floor yet and instead would get her more time alone with Monosuke, which in hindsight should have been a warning.

Following Monodam soon proved to be a mistake. Not an avoidable one, and not one that was his fault in particular, but it felt like a mistake nonetheless. The fourth floor lived up to the creepier associations with a number a bit too well in Kaede’s opinion. And that’s only speaking from the top of the stairs, they hadn’t even been to any rooms yet. (AND I DON’T WANT TO. AT ALL. WHY IS IT SO SPOOKY?! ... Kiyo’s lab is here isn’t it? It’s gotta be here with this atmosphere and everything, it suits him way too well. Welp.)

Kiyo apparently assumed the same thing as he gravitated to a set of traditional shoji style doors, unlike all the others in the school. Kokichi quickly followed after him while Kaito stayed where he was, sweating and trying not to look at anything around him.

Ryoma was rather amused by this as he tried leading his friend down the halls but given the scream that could not have been from Maki and Kaito dashing back and practically flying back down the stairs that was clearly a lost cause. It didn’t stop an annoyed Maki from following after him to literally drag him back by the arm though, as if in payback for all the times he practically did the same thing for her.

“C’mon Maki Roll, we don’t need this many people here right?! I can go see about the Ninja Scroll or something-” Kaito tried to argue, but she was still having none of his excuses.

“Not a chance. I thought a “manly” guy like you is supposed to be brave, aren’t you?”

“W-well… I mean… T-that’s why it’s good for you and Ryoma to do this alone! It’s-”

“Better for you to face your cowardice here then. You are the only one with a problem, idiot.” Maki challenged with an air of finality that seemed to shut Kaito up for the most part. Minus some nervous keening noises Kaede could hear as he was being pulled away.

Kaede chose not to draw attention to herself and how she proved he really wasn’t the "only one with a problem" and instead made her way with Monodam down the hall to a set of three doors.

She opened the first to see what was in it, only to let out a shriek of her own and slam it shut again upon seeing what she would swear was a familiar looking bear-shaped ghost floating inside. As Monodam grabbed her hand and made a dash back to the anthropology lab she wasn't the only one.

Had she not been so frazzled by everything Kaede probably would have found the confused looks on Kokichi and Kiyo’s faces hilarious, at least before Kokichi started to laugh at her own expression instead.

“... Might I inquire to what exactly that was about? If you’ll pardon my use of the phrase, you look like you’ve seen a gho-” Kiyo tried to ask, choosing to have marginally more tact than the local liar. If only his choice of words had been better.

“Don’t. Say it. Something was in one of those side rooms, honest!” Kaede tried to explain as convincingly as she could, but with everything going on and only the furiously nodding Monodam in her defense that wasn't saying much.

“Indeed, It-Was-Monotaro! But-Different-Than-He-Used-To-Be!”

“ Please tell me- you’re trying to say- you think you say some ghost- of a robotic teddy bear , Kaede. Because this is fucking priceless, you should see your face right now!” Kokichi was barely able to pause his laughter enough to speak, despite the scolding side look Kiyo was giving him for his teasing. (Don’t you fucking pretend I don’t see you smirking under that mask Kiyo! You’re enjoying this too aren’t you?!)

“S-shut up! You can go look for yourself then if you don’t believe me.”

“And leave you and Kiyo in his spooooky lab alone together? Ooookie-dokie! You two have fun~” (... Well fuck. Why couldn’t it be a normal museum? I can handle those! Everything here feels wrong. How many stories does this lab even have?!... Is this just for a visual pun?)

“I hardly see what you’re talking about, the setup they have here is magnificent. I haven’t the foggiest idea where on earth they could have found some of these works, I never expected I’d be able to so much as see them much less be in their presence during my lifetime.” (THAT PROVES IT’S CREEPY DAMNIT!)

As Kokichi stepped out to investigate Kaede’s “ghost bear” it was almost funny to see Kiyo flit about the room like he was a kid in a candy store. Almost. Though hearing him ramble about how there was a book with “spells” written by the sole survivor of a village, fueled by the fury behind the girl’s pen as she wrote, the incredibly heavy dog statue and cage meant for a séance from it, and a genuine katana did nothing to ease Kaede’s nerves at all. Not that he noticed in his sheer delight at everything around him.

Kokichi really should have expected to find her curled up into a ball like this, sitting on one of the seats near the bookshelves with her head on her knees, when he got back.

“Uhh, Kiyo I think you broke her. Great, now who’s gonna save us from Angie’s crazy cultists?! They even have Kirumi, we can’t compete with that! All we have is an idiot and scary people! WE’RE DOOOOMED!” Kokichi faux-sobbed with his crocodile tears again as Kiyo sighed.

“Technically we do also have one of the less incompetent and supposedly benevolent of Monokuma’s progeny, but you make a fair assessment. They also have Gonta and Tenko among them, which is also concerning as both are as strong as they are gullible I fear. Unless Kaede is back with us now of course?”

“Darn you all to heck, you horrible, horrible people” Came Kaede’s deadpanned reply, muffled by her body.

“Nope! Still broken, she can’t even curse now.”

“... Hmm, I see. Very well then, speaking of curses-” Kiyo’s words certainly got Kaede back on her feet.

“NO! NO MORE CURSES. I HEARD ENOUGH TODAY.” Too bad Kaede’s pointer finger in his face didn’t have its intended effect, as he was still more amused than anything else. She chalked it up to the height thing.

“There, that appears to have done the trick. My apologies for not seeing sooner how distressed you were becoming, I got rather overzealous you could say.” (Or you could say you were a dick, you jerk!)

“That-Is-Good-” Monodam caught the enraged glare Kaede gave him and backpedaled. “I-Mean-Not-Being-Insensitive-To-Your-Friends, That-Is-Bad. But-That-Enjoying-Your-Lab-Is-Good! Each-Was-Tailor-Made-For-You-Bastards-After-All.”

“Is that more or less creepy to hear than everything else here?” (LESS . INFINITELY LESS. Er-waitaminute.)

That did explain the selection of music in her own lab, any songs she saw that Kaede didn’t immediately recognize she still had a vague knowledge of. Like she heard of it and just hadn’t listened to them yet.

And it did indicate they were all in this place for a specific reason, to be singled out like this. But not why or what the reasoning behind this could be for. (I mean even if it looks like a prison school only maybe a handful of us seem like we’d actually belong in one, and if Kirumi’s the prime minister in all but title she shouldn’t fit. Unless she was used as a scapegoat for something? Would she remember that?)

“If such efforts were made to study and accommodate us why were we made to kill each other then? This is rather extreme for a mere social experiment, wouldn’t you say?” Kiyo asked, looking over some of his displays as he did.

“I-Can’t-Tell-You-That. Sorry. I-Could-Tell-You-Other-Things-But-Only-For-The-Killing-Game-Itself, Not Where-You-Bastards-Are. And-As-The-Killings-Should-End-Now-That-Doesn’t-Matter-Anymore.”

“I dunno~ If you have a motive for us later it could make you Monokuma wannabes at least a little useful. Might make us like you a little bit. So spill it, any other “special rules” we didn’t know about?” Kokichi said, putting the bear in something between a hold and a hug.

“Umm… There-Is-The-Tiebreaker-Rule? If-Multiple-People-Tie-For-Having-The-Most-Votes-And-The- Blackened-Is-One-Of-Them-Then-It-Counts-And-The-Spotless-Would-Be-Safe-From-Execution. It-Even- Works-With-Everyone-Only-Having-One-Vote, So-If-You-All-Agreed-To-Vote-For-Yourselves-You’d-Win!”

“I hardly believe the blackened would ever allow things to turn out in such a way. They’d simply need to lie and vote for anyone else to ensure their own survival would be guaranteed, yes?”

Monodam began bashfully poking his paws together at Kiyo's point, almost like he thought his way would have really worked. He also got a bit nervous when Kokichi brought up another motive appearing, so even without their father’s “game” apparently his cubs have something in store for them all later anyway.

When Kaede was feeling marginally better she made another attempt at looking for where Monodam’s hammer was meant to be used. Kokichi confirmed the three side doors were empty, denying seeing any ghosts or ghouls with a snicker, as he and Kiyo chose to keep her company. (To see me cry again?! Jerks.)

Monodam was trying to not so subtly lead them back towards the three doors, but instead the group went to see about Kaito’s group in the last room. Well, Kiyo and Kokichi did, as Kaede turned around and ran right back to Monodam upon seeing the blood-red hallway, much to Kokichi’s annoyance.

“Seriously Kaede?! Come on you scaredy cat get back here, we have work to do!” Kokichi called after her.

“We hardly need her for this. As Monodam is indicating this isn’t where his item needs to go why don’t we leave that to her for now? I strongly doubt this will be getting any easier on her mind quite yet.”

“It’s the principle of it! Why should we go somewhere when our “leader” won’t?! Kaede come baaack~”

Kiyo ignored Kokichi’s attempt to drag Kaede back and briefly continued along the hallway that supposedly Kaito was capable of going through, before walking back looking like he found something particularly amusing in the hallway ahead. Kaede didn’t have too long to wonder what sort of horrible thing this was foreshadowing as Kokichi pushed her onwards like she was stubborn packhorse stuck by a river.

The series of Jizo statues, decapitated and otherwise, certainly explained what Kiyo thought was so damn funny, but Kokichi and Kaede were less appreciative of the “joke” as the push shifted into more of a cling. As she tried going back again, Kokichi spun on his heel with the force behind her, but shifted their momentum to shoving her forwards instead. While the two made their mad sprint past the 8 figures Kiyo calmy trailed behind them, pausing to examine the statues and the Torii sitting across the way.

Kaede nearly ran into Kaito in her run to get anywhere but the eerie rotting red hallways around her, who she could not be more grateful to see. Since she was still soon followed by Kokichi Kaito wouldn’t be able to say the same, but since he finally got the hug he asked for before he was certainly not complaining.

“Hey there, you okay?” (NO. I have never been good at test of courage type stuff! I never want to come here again. EVER. At least the hallway here looks normal again? Is that another lab? Are we done yet?!)

As that isn’t best to admit Kaede tried salvaging what she could of this situation. “Y-yeah, it’s just a bit too… Spooky for me, you know? With… The gross wallpaper, and stuff on the ceiling, and the lighting-”

“And Kiyo with his sadistic horror fetish!” Kokichi’s voice chimed in behind her.

“And Kiyo with his- Hey wait no, you stay out of this! You made me go through there!”

“Right into Kaito’s waiting arms! You better not let Maki catch the two of you like this~”

“That could prove most troublesome, "Heaven has no rage like love to hatred turned, Nor hell a fury like a woman scorned". And who knows what a slighted assassin may do should her fickle feelings sour.” (Do you really have to say stuff like that here Kiyo?!... Of course you do, stupid question. Please don’t kill me Maki.)

“That’s not funny you two, knock it off!” Kaito scolded, giving both of the boys a firm look as if they all didn’t know that push come to shove either could leave him a terrified mess. “You’re here for Angie’s lab right? It’s open and everything so get move on with it. Though unlike the others this one does have locks, which might cause issues later. No idea where the keys for it are yet since we couldn’t find any inside.”

The high ceilings were weird to see be continued from the hallways around it, but the contrasting tone of the normal white fluorescent lighting was a welcome relief. At least Angie wouldn’t need to worry about art supplies or areas for her work to dry anymore, she could even probably hang stuff from the exposed beams if she had to free up floor space.

Having two different types of doors was another odd detail, considering both in Kiyo’s lab matched. But not all of the light fixtures matched either so maybe this was a preference of Angie’s, as she wasn’t here to give them any input beyond what could be seen. No Flashback Lights were in here at least, just Maki and Ryoma looking around the large workspace.

… Which meant it was likely for the best to leave and go see what Monodam was so intent on. Oh, joy.

Kaede managed to get through the disturbing trek faster this time, at a brisk walk while trying not to look around herself too much, but she had stubbed her foot on one of the Jizo heads lying on the floor in her hurry. (And now we know those things are heavy, even though they’re round it barely budged. OWWW!)

Kaito at least was with her this time, which made for much more pleasant company as he wasn’t faring much better than she was as far as nerves were concerned in these hopefully not-so-haunted hallways. She thought it for the best to not point out other rooms on this floor might not be able to have the title. It was getting easier to get used to this now at least, which was little comfort but a comfort nonetheless.

Monodam was sitting on the floor pulling at his feet with his paws until he saw them return, quick to get to his feet and pull them towards the painted glass at the end of the hallway. He nearly threw his hammer at them trying to “hint” to them how exactly they were meant to solve this “riddle”.

Pushy little brat isn’t he? Cuter than the yellow one at least, since he is trying to make himself useful. Sibling murder notwithstanding of course.

Kaito did what he wanted though, and through the shattered glass another hallway could be seen. Still a creepy hallway in its own way, but this one looked more high tech. Tubes and exposed stainless steel floors almost feeling like they’d be better suited to a spaceship than a school.

The door they found at the end had a light with the words “Computer Room” above it, and when they approached the unusual locks sprang to life to open for them. (Must be motion activated or something then, weird to see here.)

This room was massive, nearly if not as big as the labs on this floor were already, and had it not been called the “Computer Room” already Kaede wouldn’t have known what to make of the large cube in the center of the space, surrounded by monitors. (Right, technically computers are those tower things, not the screens aren’t they? But I’ve never seen one this big! I didn’t even know cables came in that size.)

Kaito let out a low whistle as he took everything in and Monodam explained this was for the latest incarnation of the “Neo-World Program”, a simulated world people could enter if they wanted to. (Miu probably would have had a field day with this thing if she were here… But then that could have just lead to her trying to kill someone anyway, couldn’t it? In a world where she’d know the rules better than us.)

But of more of their direct concern was the treasure chest to the left of it. One that looked just like the one with the previous Flashback Light the time before. Kaede made a beeline for it and took the precious clue to what was going on with her and her friends, putting it in her backpack for safe keeping.

She told Kaito to gather everyone on this floor and meet up later as she headed to find Angie’s group.

Best to have everyone regroup in the Dining Hall to see what we’ll be doing with this. It’s as good a time as any to see what they’ve found so far too.

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[gaeidthesnake-blog]

I’mma do this. This is me as a character, not me as a DID system member.

Character Chart Character’s full name: ga’Eid Kemerre Reason or meaning of name: It’s a name I... kinda improvised, actually. After I found myself suddenly in the outskirts of a city with no knowledge of who or where I was, I kinda lurked around a bit. I realized some people seemed to not be from around there, so after encountering enough of them, I made up a name that sounded kinda like it might have been from wherever they were from. Character’s nickname: “The Snake” Reason for nickname: Because I sneak around in the shadows and use poison. Birth date: So... turns out I was created, not born. Not sure what day that was, either. It was a long time ago. Physical appearance Age: Almost 300 (Spoiler - actually almost 800, but at the beginning of the story, I don’t know that) How old does he/she appear: Mid 20′s Weight: A little over 80 lbs Height: 4′4″ Body build: Lean and slender Shape of face: Uh... rat face-shaped? Eye color: Amber Glasses or contacts: I got an eyepatch. Does that count?  Skin tone: Kinda ashen,with either tan fur or green scales over it Distinguishing marks: I’m missing my left eye and right arm. Predominant features: My mane? Hair color: Olive Type of hair: Stiff and starchy Hairstyle: Wild, with a lot of it sticking up and leaning back, and some extra length in the rear Voice: Really scratchy. If you’ve played Fallout 4... I basically sound like Hancock. Overall attractiveness: Conventionally unattractive. Physical disabilities: See “distinguishing marks” Usual fashion of dress: I dress like a hobo. Favorite outfit: Pants, sash, bandoliers, and a cloak Jewelry or accessories: I usually have a band around a lock of my mane, on the right side. Personality Good personality traits: I guess... I care about others? I want to do the right thing? Bad personality traits: Hoo boy... I’m an emotional wreck living with depression and sometimes paranoia. I’m overwhelmed with pain, I wanna die, but I don’t wanna leave the world without *someone* filling my role, so... well, let’s just say, I’m not the best father. I’m also obsessed over the fact that I was artificially created and worried about the existential questions that brings up about who I really am and whether or not there’s a real “me” or if I’m just an extension of someone else’s will. Mood character is most often in: Anxious Sense of humor: Sarcastic and often self-deprecating Character’s greatest joy in life: Iunno... I feel like I’d actually have something I enjoyed, if I ever got a chance to just relax and enjoy the simple things in life. Character’s greatest fear: Something bad happening to people I care about when I’m not around to stop it. That, or finding out none of my thoughts are really my own because I don’t really exist as an individual. Why? Because a lot of my friends died in situations like that, and because *someone* created me, and did so for a reason. What single event would most throw this character’s life into complete turmoil? My life’s already *in* turmoil! Character is most at ease when: Never. Most ill at ease when: There’s a lull in activity, and nothing to distract me, and I can hear the voices of my dead friends from long ago, and see their dead faces, asking me why I let them die... Enraged when: Someone withholds something needed from someone I care about Depressed or sad when: Always Priorities: Raise my adopted son to be good at what I do so he can replace me and I can die; help people while I’m still alive Life philosophy: If granted one wish, it would be: To start over fresh, on my own terms Why? Character’s soft spot: The vulnerable Is this soft spot obvious to others? ... Yeah, sometimes. Greatest strength: Stealth, agility, poison use and resistance Greatest vulnerability or weakness: I’m not really that physicall strong or durable Biggest regret: Letting my friends die... Minor regret: Being an emotionally neglectful dad to my adopted son. Biggest accomplishment: Being the top spy of the Milandrian Revolution Minor accomplishment: Hiding my real age and origin Past failures he/she would be embarrassed to have people know about:I wouldn’t be embarrassed about anything in my past... Just deeply ashamed... Why? See above? Character’s darkest secret: I got lotsa secrets. I guess “dark” depends on your perspective. Does anyone else know? I think Ro might - and I’d like to find her, to learn how and why. Goals Drives and motivations: Individuality, freedom, protection of others Immediate goals: Help protect Ufera from these devils that just showed up Long term goals: Find the truth about my origins, make sure the world’s safe, end my life with as few regrets as possible How the character plans to accomplish these goals: Find Ro, defeat the devils, make sure the world’s not gonna get wrecked without me How other characters will be affected: People in general’d be safer and... well... I hope Madün turns out okay... Past Hometown: No hometown, but I spent a lot of time in the Erresse forest after settling down there with a group of fleeing rebels. Type of childhood: No childhood Pets: None First memory: Showing up in the outskirts of a city that no longer exists Most important childhood memory: None Why: Never had a childhood Childhood hero: None Dream job: Spy for life, yo. Either that, or adventurer or investigator. Education: Self-taught Religion: None Finances: We didn’t use money that much back then. We either bartered or offered services. Present Current location: Libar, slums Currently living with: A gang of street vigilantes and the downtrodden Pets: None Religion: None Occupation: Rogue Finances:  I can get money when I need it, but I tend not to need it that much, since I prefer the humble life. Family Mother: None Relationship with her: None Father: I suspect I was created by Ro’s mysterious “boss.” Relationship with him: I want to find him and get answers. Siblings: I suspect Ro was also created, just like me, so... her? Maybe? Relationship with them: I want to find her and get answers. Spouse: No spouse... I was in love, once... Relationship with him/her: He’s dead now. Children: I have an adopted son named Madün. Relationship with them: Well... not the best... and it’s kinda my fault. Other important family members: None Favorites Color: Forest green Least favorite color: Iunno?  Music: Anything that sounds haunting, with nice string usage. Food: Bugs. Literature: Documents? Form of entertainment: Hanging out at the tavern Expressions: “Eh.” “Meh.” Mode of transportation: Walking, running, jumping, flipping, tumbling, crawling, sneaking... Most prized possession: None. Habits Hobbies: Info-gathering Plays a musical instrument? Nope. Plays a sport? Nope. How he/she would spend a rainy day: Looking for worms Spending habits: Frugal Smokes: Nope. Drinks: A lot - but I don’t get drunk. I’m naturally poison-resistant, and I’ve developed that resistance even further to be practically immune. Other drugs: I was on hallucinogenic toads for a long time. I don’t do that now, though. What does he/she do too much of? ... Iunno? Regretting things? What does he/she do too little of? Relaxing. Not like I can, though. Extremely skilled at: Spying. Extremely unskilled at: Resolving inner conflicts? Nervous tics: Sometimes, my ears and nose twitch in weird ways. Usual body posture: Leaning forward, kinda crouching Mannerisms: I just talk really informally. Peculiarities: ... I like eating bugs? I don’t even try to hide it. Honestly, I’m not sure what the fuss is. They’re nutritious, they taste good... Why’s everyone so afraid? Traits Optimist or pessimist? Pessimist. Introvert or extrovert? Introvert. Daredevil or cautious? A mix of both. I have a dangerous job, what can I say? Logical or emotional? Logical when I’m on the job, emotional when I’m not. Disorderly and messy or methodical and neat? Messy, but not necessarily disorderly. Methodical, but *definitely* not neat. Prefers working or relaxing? I never relax. I prolly need to, but the moment I do, something bad’s bound to happen, I just know it... Confident or unsure of himself/herself? Unsure. Animal lover? Eh... Iunno. I wouldn’t go outta my way to hurt them, but I also don’t really care for them too much. Self-perception How he/she feels about himself/herself: Total shit. One word the character would use to describe self: Wreck. One paragraph description of how the character would describe self: “I’m a weird emotional wreck living with depression and sometimes paranoia. I’m overwhelmed with pain, I wanna die, but I don’t wanna leave the world without *someone* filling my role, so of course I ended up adopting a kid and trying to force him into being a spy like a fucking father-of-the-year. I also got other personal problems to deal with. You prolly heard a lot of stuff about me, about how I’m a *big fuckin’ hero* or *intriguing mystery man* or some shit, and you were prolly expecting someone a lot better than, well, *this*, so... sorry ‘bout that, but I ain’t who you think I am.” What does the character consider his/her best personality trait? Iunno? What does the character consider his/her worst personality trait? The tendency to leave my friends behind when they need me. What does the character consider his/her best physical characteristic? My slender physique? What does the character consider his/her worst physical characteristic? The teeth. They’re actually pretty average for a dendago, but... not a lot of non-dendago find them attractive. How does the character think others perceive him/her: Better than they should, and with too many grandiose preconceptions. What would the character most like to change about himself/herself: My entire life. Relationships with others Opinion of other people in general: They need protecting. Does the character hide his/her true opinions and emotions from others? Hell yes. Person character most hates: Myself. Best friend(s): I guess... Gavion? Iunno, I’m not really close to anyone. Love interest(s): Listen, I got a lot of FWB’s, but nothing more than that. I’m not really one to fall in love. Can’t really commit to that with everything else going on. Person character goes to for advice: Maybe Gavion, but rarely. Person character feels responsible for or takes care of: I feel responsible for EVERYONE... Person character feels shy or awkward around: No one specific, but... anyone who reminds me of Albren. Person character openly admires: No one. Person character secretly admires: Everyone but me. Most important person in character’s life before story starts: Madün... kinda. After story starts: Madün. [Just a reminder: All of this is for me as a character, not me as an introject. Some of it still applies, but a lot of it’s old info that doesn’t really apply to me now that I’m here.]

[justpeachy--keen]

Peach Blossom Clearwater -- Character Sheet

i was supposed to do great things / i knew the rules though / but i wasn’t raised to shoot for fame / i had the safety on / i cut my ties, i sold my rings / i wanted none of this / if you start from scratch, you have to sing / just for the fun of it

Archetype — The Creator Birthday — March 25, 2001 Zodiac Sign — Aries MBTI — ENTJ Enneagram — Type 7: The Enthusiast Temperament — Sanguine Hogwarts House — Ravenclaw Moral Alignment — Chaotic Good Primary Vice — Gluttony Primary Virtue — Diligence Element — Water

Overview:

Mother — Foster Mother: Angelica Martin; Birth Mother: Peony Cabrera-Rodriguez Father — Foster Father: Thomas Martin; Birth Father: Jesus Rodriguez Mother’s Occupation — homemaker/heiress Father’s Occupation — owned surf shop Family Finances — wealthy Birth Order — she was smack dab in the middle of her foster siblings Brothers —  Mark (17), Devon (16--birthday in December) Sisters — Rachel (13), Veronica (10) Other Close Family — None. Best Friend — Marta Tinney Other Friends — Patrick, Melanie, James, Malik Enemies — Georgia Pets — None. 5 foster children were enough. Home Life During Childhood — For an orphan, Peach was pretty lucky. She was never abused. Her first foster family kept her until she was eleven, even with her powers. The other kids teased her and she was a bit quiet and shy, but it wasn’t so bad. When she moved in with the Martins, she blossomed. They were a loving family and she thought that they might actually adopt her... Town or City Name(s) — Sydney, Australia! Born and raised--well, as far as she knows. (She was actually born in Rio de Janeiro and she likes to think she was born in Avalor.) What Did His or Her Bedroom Look Like — She shared with foster siblings. There weren’t a lot of things that were just hers, and she didn’t really get to decorate in her first home. In her second home, everything was pink, pink, pink! Any Sports or Clubs — Cheerleading, dance team, football, softball, she’s actually surprisingly sporty. She also loves to surf. Favorite Toy or Game — Clue was her favorite board game. She was wicked good at it. She also likes playing piano, her foster brother Mark taught her. Schooling — Public schooling, nothing special. Favorite Subject — Literature, definitely. Popular or Loner — Popular after she was in middle school, average amount of friends before that. Important Experiences or Events — being abandoned, changing foster homes, when she spied on her neighbor and found out they were doing very bad things!!, when her foster parents just gave her up without a second thought. Nationality — Australian Culture — ...Australian? (Barbies and the outback!!) Religion and beliefs — Kind of believes in “fate” and “destiny” more than anything else.

Physical Appearance:

Face Claim —  Camila Mendes Complexion — Tan skin, very smooth and pretty. Hair Colour — Black Eye Colour — Brown Height — 5’2 Build — Sporty, she’s got thick thighs and broad shoulders and strong arms because she does all sorts of dance and sports. Tattoos — None! Piercings — Ear piercings Common Hairstyle — Down, kind of wavy. But she’ll put it in a ponytail or pig tails or a little braid. Clothing Style — Very modern but vintage inspired so lots of knee socks and plaid skirts. That kind of thing. She wears headbands and pearls. Frilly blouses. But, she’ll also just rock t-shirts and high waisted shorts. It really just depends on the day, but she definitely keeps abreast of fashion trends (adding her own little twist to them.) Mannerisms — Quirks her mouth a lot when she’s thinking. Talks with her hands a lot, specifically claps them together or shoos people in her excitement. Loves to give high fives. Usual Expression —

Health:

Overall (do they get sick easily)? — Average. She gets colds a few times a year, but overall pretty healthy. Physical Ailments — None, she’s quite fit. Neurological Conditions — Uhh, none, really. She’s pretty fuckin’ sane, that’s weird. Allergies —  None! Grooming Habits — Takes very good care of her skin and hair. Shaves every day almost. Never leaves the house without make-up on. Sleeping Habits — She lowkey has a lot of trouble falling asleep, so she has a whole routine. And she says nighttime is when she does her best writing. Eating Habits — Eats pretty well, for the most part. But she also love, love, loves sweets. Eats a lot of candy and chocolate, for sure. Loves to bake. Exercise Habits —  Goes running, does pilates and yoga. Loves to play sports. Will try to get on the cheerleading team. Emotional Stability — Ummm. Honestly? Pretty good. She’s got some lowkey PTSD from the stuff she saw. And she’s got abandonment issues. Oh, also, she’s kind of a compulsive liar. Don’t believe anything she says really. Body Temperature — Average. Sociability — Very social. She doesn’t have the greatest social instincts though. She’s very good at reading people, but not at reading a situation, if that makes sense? Like she doesn’t always say the right thing, but she’s usually right about what she does say. Addictions — None. Uhh unless you count lying? Drug Use — Hasn’t done drugs!! (Yet) Alcohol Use — Got drunk once with her foster brothers. Devon tried to kiss her. It was really awkward.

Your Character’s Character:

Bad Habits — Lying. Creating a version of herself she thinks that people will like in order to gain status. Picking at her cuticles. Blurting out things that probably shouldn’t be said in mixed company. Good Habits — She’s really a great friend, very supportive. She’s super smart and analytical. Best Characteristic — Great friend, really. Worst Characteristic — Compulsive lying. Worst Memory — Her foster parents turning her away. Best Memory — “You know, it’s so much harder to think of bad memories than good memories, I wonder why that is?” - Something Peach has definitely written in her journal. Proud of — Her lying skills. Her writing. Her photography. Her dancing. Basically anything she creates. Embarrassed by — Her need to lie. Driving Style — She’d be a pretty good driver, too bad no one will teach her how to drive. Thomas was going to start in the spring, cry. Strong Points — Intelligent, analytical, clever, insightful, caring, curious. Temperament — Happy go lucky! Peach is one of those people who you will never see sad or angry if she can help it. Weakness — Getting tangled up in her own lies; wanting validation. Fears — People thinking she’s stupid or unworthy. Phobias — Minor arachnophobia. Not much else, she’s pretty fearless. Secrets — Who she is, basically everything about her, lol. Regrets — Having gotten caught spying on her neighbor and the whole mess she’s got herself in. Feels Vulnerable When — Someone catches her having an emotion that is not happy. Pet Peeves — uhm she tries not to have them, because that doesn’t go with her zen lifestyle. Conflicts — The fact she knows everyone would hate her if they knew she was lying to them. Motivation — To be admired. Short Term Goals and Hopes — Be admired, do well in school, make friends, explore. Long Term Goals and Hopes — Be a famous writer. Sexuality — Bisexual, probably? Mostly undecided. She probably thinks she’s straight but also knows sexuality exists on a spectrum. Day or Night Person — Day, or well, she wants to be day, but has insomnia that keeps her up late. Introvert or Extrovert — Extrovert. Literally got 100% extroverted on her Myers-Briggs. Optimist or Pessimist — Optimist. Aggressively an optimist.

Likes and Styles:

Music — Pop is her favorite genre. Yup, she’s definitely that girl, though she went through her #scene phase. But her faves are people like Katy Perry and Carly Rae Jepsen (it pains me to put those two next to each other, but to Peach, they’re one in the same.) She loooooves to dance, so anything that gets her moving is going to be what she likes to listen to. Though, she also loves to belt it out with Adele, etc. Books — Gosh, the better question is what books doesn’t Peach like? And the answer would be none! Because there is something to be gained from any book you read! She’s an avid reader, though she kind of keeps it on the down low. But you can’t be a good writer without reading! Magazines — Got to keep up with all the latest gossip! Peach loves all magazines, but she knows to take them with a grain of salt. At least, tabloids. She doesn’t really read things like the Times. Foods — Like I said above–Peach is a huge fan of candy. But, she also likes fruits a lot. Really anything sweet. Though she likes savory and spicy too. Basically, she isn’t particularly picky. She likes lollipops a lot and definitely can be seen eating them quite frequently. Drinks — She doesn’t really have a preference to what she drinks. She likes water. She likes lemonade, juices, soda pop. She’s tried vodka before and was not a fan, but she won’t admit that to anyone and definitely would try alcohol again. Animals — Peach loves anything cute! She’s not a fan of creepy-crawlies or snakes or anything like that or “ugly” does like hairless ones or ones that drool too much. She’s a little afraid of any like–super big animals too (like horses, GASP). One of the first things she’s going to do is buy a cat, even though that is really not advised… Sports — Peach loves sports! Playing them, anyways. She’s not really into watching them on TV, but she’ll definitely go to like--rugby games or football games. And she loves cheerleading, so she’ll probably be at all the games. Social Issues — Her social awareness is still developing but she does consider herself a feminist. Favorite Saying — “There is nothing to writing. All you do is sit down at a typewriter and bleed.” - Ernest Hemingway Color — Pink! Peach loves pink, always has. Yes, it’s “stereotypical” and “girlie” but she loves it. It makes her happy–the brighter the better, and she often can be seen wearing it. Whenever she’s in a bad mood, she puts on some pink and instantly feels a little better. She’s easy to please like that. Jewelry — Her pearl necklace. Her foster mother bought it for her when she turned sixteen. Websites — Tumblr. Instagram. Twitter. Facebook. She’s big into all the social media stuff. TV Shows — Game of Thrones. Once Upon a Time (yes she knows it is problematic, let her live.) Shows like Gossip Girl and The OC. Lost. Star Trek lowkey. Anything with good writing and/or an interesting concept. She’s a big binge watcher. Movies — Oh gosh. She likes a good mystery, that’s for sure. Also stories within stories (frame stories!!) like Moulin Rouge, Princess Bride, the Fall, and Singin’ in the Rain. But, she really does like anything with a good story. She’s also not one of those snooty “book is better than film” because she can understand the merits of both. Some of her favorite book adaptations are V for Vendetta, Water for Elephants, and the 2005 Pride and Prejudice. Greatest Want — To be appreciated. Greatest Need — To be loved.

Where and How Does Your Character Live Now:

Home — Castle Suites 42W Household furnishings — Modern and sparse, she didn’t want to spend too much money on them, but her apartment is decorated very cute. A few paintings on the walls and lots of throw pillows. Favorite Possession — Her pearl necklace. Most Cherished Possession — Her journals and notebooks. Neighborhood — Gated community. Town or City Name — Sydney, Australia Details of Town or City — It was Sydney, Australia. Married Before — None. Significant Other Before — None. Children — None. Relationship with Family — Nonexistent now. Car — None. Career — None, but she’ll probably have to get a job. Dream Career — A famous writer. Dream Life — A famous writer, that’s it, that’s all she cares about. Love Life — Nonexistent, but she’s hoping that’ll change. Talents or Skills — Good writer, dancer, singer, photographer; she is not too shabby at painting either. Not bad at surfing and a few other sports. Intelligence Level — Too smart for her own good. Finances — Her foster family was wealthy and they did spoil her.

Your Character’s Life Before Your Story:

Past Careers — None. She helped out at the surf shop sometimes. Past Lovers — None, her foster brother Devon was her first kiss. Biggest Mistakes — Spying on her neighbor. (Though, does she really regret it? No.) Biggest Achievements — She probably won writing contests in school and ones she sent out.