#the only trauma he has is the asylum

[killershrike]

you guys I have to admit to yall. I'm actually crazy. there is a dark side of me you haven't seen...

I like to take always sunny characters + lore seriously, I psychoanalyze them and then bring them to more extreme sides of the character while trying to keep always sunny vibe & humor. such as: I have a CharDen fic I've never posted which centres around Dennis murdering Jack Kelley for Charlie and bringing him the skin to show his love. yandere, obsessive, crazy, yes. but NOT that far from canon and I could tell you why i think so down to exact episodes + lines but I'll spare you my intense psychosis

[alarici]

mostly interested in the character/relationship study potential of the ‘everyone lives’ but I also want to try to write a mostly uncomplicated, if not bittersweet meronia thing to the tune of In Our Bedroom After the War or such

[yourcutelittlegayfriend]

Imagine: Taking the Pennyworth name instead

(just short for now I'll work with this after I finished my deadline)

I'm thinking of a small AU for this but I always thought what could happened if Reader was an Isekai or regressed in a Neglected batfam fic?

Reader knowing what happens to the story or her future life with these people and they just straight up planned something to stay far away from the family without causing them to become yandere or obsessed with them.

If reader think it through and most possible solution is to stay at the mansion and be discreet as possible.

And the most I could think of is just get adopted by Alfred instead, bcs why not? You get to stay at the mansion, you won't have the Wayne name on you for reasons that maybe you resent the thought of being called a Wayne.

And even if for a short while you can feel like you belong, not as a child of a rich asshole who becomes a vigilante that runs around 'his' city to do his nightly fight with criminals that just keep multiplying because god only knows he has more patience and time for them that his neglected child who rots in an old house that makes the child feel it's their own Arkham Asylum.

Not to be related to a bunch of bitchy brothers and sisters who thinks they're far more important or involved in the family and never thought that just because they 'died' multiple times your trauma weights lesser than them, just because yours is far more tame doesn't mean you don't get to deserve a little love too.

(This is just me putting myself in the reader's shoes because that's really what I do to most of the x reader fics I make)

Imagine reader just straight up ask Alfred is they could be his child or grandchild instead.

"Adopt me". Alfred stop himself from tipping the teapot when he heard a small tiny voice below him.

The butler looks down and sees the old yet younger addition to the family stare at him from below holding an- wait a minute is that a real adoption papers??

--- Tune in next time to when will I finished this fic before another sh8y day intercept this again---

ALFRED PENNYWORTH SUPREMACY RISE UUPPPPPPP!!!!!!

(some of you might wonder why I'm fixating on Alfred being reader's grandfather/father, it's very simple I just miss my grandfather and Papa so now u know, I'm pretty sure no one wondered but here you go anyway hahahaha)

[hauntingrabbits]

More Batman/My Little Pony au art because these are ridiculously fun to draw. Part 3 here! Part 1 here!

More info under the cut!

1. Sweet Talk/The Harlequin (Harleen Quinzel)

Originally contracted to work as a psychiatrist for the Tartarus villain redemption program, Sweet Talk had a unique relationship with the Joker. This relationship was proven to be even stranger than her coworkers had originally assumed when she broke him out and joined him in his life of crime.

Devoting herself entirely to her new life and relationship with the joker, she covers her original cutie mark at all times. Snce her horn was snapped she can no longer cast precise spells, leaving her magic mostly emotion-based and intensely volatile, (typically manifesting in the form of sparks, zaps, and explosions).

Other Notes:

-Using Tartarus as a substitute for Arkham Asylum for this au because why not.

-The villain redemption program did NOT go well. Sorry Twilight.

-Mostly based on BTAS Harley because I adore the original costume.

-Her horn was cracked by the Joker

2. Pudding Pie/The Joker (The Joker)

Batpony’s most notorious foe. Said to have been just a regular pony until he fell into a vat at an Ace Potions factory during a conflict with Batpony.

He doesn’t have a Cutie Mark, but it’s unclear whether this was always the case or instead a result of his accident. The effects of permanent Cutie Mark loss—the only known cases of which occurred via long-banned magic and/or traumatic injury—are largely unstudied, and it’s ramifications are unknown. Some ponies theorize this may be the reason for the Joker’s mental state and general disposition.  

Sundown has a different opinion on the matter.

Other notes:

-Based mostly on BTAS joker and the ‘89 Nicholson joker.

-His name is just based on Harley’s “pudding” nickname for in in a lot of versions, but I think it would also be hilarious if he was a distant relative of Pinkie Pie.

-I could leave it ambiguous but. Yeah the potion vat didn’t actually do anything beyond slightly altering his physical appearance. He’s just like that and he never got a cutie mark in the first place.

3. Gadiel/Scarecrow (Jonathan Crane)

Raised among ponies, Gadiel was relentlessly bullied for being gangly and birdish, earning him the nickname “Scarecrow” in his youth. Though he later successfully became a professor and psychologist in Gotham, Gadiel was eventually fired when he was found to be testing his fear-inducing potions on his students and purposefully putting them through terrifying and dangerous situations. Deciding to take his experiments to the masses, Gadiel donned the mantle of Scarecrow and weaponized fear to become a career criminal.

As the Scarecrow, he’s known for his skill in manipulation, psychological torture, and crafting dangerous potions and gas. The effects of fear on magical creatures are unique and intense, much to Gadiel’s delight and interest.

Other Notes:

-I wanted to make his front half a crane but I couldn’t get the long neck to work right with the mask, so he’s more crow-like instead.

-according to the wiki 1/3 of Griffin names start with a G so naturally I was extremely tempted to name him Gonathon and you should all be very grateful I did not. The name Gadiel has origins in the bible as the name of an archangel which I thought was fitting given the insane religious trauma some versions of the scarecrow went through. I thought about trying to do something similar for this version but given that the mlp universe uses Princess Celestia as a replacement for God in expressions like “Celestia knows where” and “Oh my Celestia” I wasn’t really sure how to go about it. There’s probably some kind of sun-worshipping thing in equestria idk.

-I spent a long time on the mlp wiki but from what I could find the only “fear” magic in the show is just used by one guy and its just called “dark magic”. I thought for sure there would’ve been some random plant or magical creature they dealt with at some point that maybe did something similar I could use for his blurb but unfortunately there was not.

4. Mandible/Falseface (Basil Karlo/Matt Hagen)

Hungry and deeply resentful of the changeling queen for forcing her underlings to share what little stolen love they had with her, Mandible went rogue early on and split off from the hive to pursue his own ventures. Finding success under the name Claypose as a pony actor in Gotham, he was sustained primarily by the one-sided love of his fans for years, despite the false identity having no real prior personal relationships to leech from. 

After a magical special effects accident on set revealed his true nature, he went into hiding and immediately started crafting a new persona, but soon found in his distress and rage over losing his identity as Claypose that he could no longer sustain any disguise long enough to keep up a long-term facade. Blaming the accident, he targeted the unicorn responsible by posing as his wife to leech his love, but ended up killing the pony in a panic when his disguise failed much faster than he’d anticipated it would. Unable to keep up a new identity or return to the hive, Mandible turned to a life of crime instead, doing dirty work for the bigger criminal names in Gotham and leeching love from his employer’s targets to survive.

Other notes:

-Clayface being a changeling was an obvious pick given his power set but I really wasn’t sure how to tackle the main issue of him being unable to keep a solid form for long. I went with his distress and frustration being the main thing keeping his disguise flimsy (so he gets put in kind of an ourobouros cycle where his disguise being bad makes him upset but him being upset makes it harder to fix his disguise), but the magic accident probably also contributed somehow.

-Why are all the changelings straight up just named after body parts in this show whats that about. The “Clay” in Claypose is obviously a reference to his title/schtick in the comics while the “pose” comes from both his job as an actor and the fact that he’s posing as a pony. Mandible is the name for the jaw part of an insect.

-there's actually an entirely different batman villain called falseface in the '66 series but I couldn't come up with anything better. Changeface just does not roll off the tongue.

3. Winglon/Killer Drake (Waylon Jones)

Originally intended to be used in an entrance exam, his egg was stolen from a Canterlot delivery cart on its way to Celestia’s school of magic and sold on the black market to a Pony Island circus. Raised to be part of the freak show, Winglon was pitted against circus performers and overconfident challengers in ring fights for money and entertainment. Enduring abuse and injury throughout his life from ponies that he was always fundamentally stronger than, it was only a matter of time until he snapped. Garnering the name Killer Drake for his actions, Winglon escaped into the Gotham sewer system.

Not knowing how to return to the dragonlands or whether he’d even fit into dragon society at all, he continues to lurk in the dark away from any life, deeply resenting ponies and all other manner of magical creatures that make friends with them.

Other notes:

-I like silly names ok. Winglon Jones. -I like the theory that the dragon egg used for Twilight’s entrance exam was actually fake/meant to be a no-win scenario, but I also don’t think it would be that hard for enterprising ponies to get their hands on dragon eggs. The practice probably stopped in the later seasons when they made friends with the dragonlands or whatever though.

-Given that dragons threaten to eat or kill ponies at multiple points in the show, the cannibalism is actually kind of understandable. And also not even cannibalism anymore. Still murder though.

[kavumas-blog]

My Life as a Queer Refugee: A Story of Struggle, Survival, and Hope

As a queer person, I once believed I could live authentically in my home country. But as I came out, everything changed. What I thought was a community that might support me turned against me, and I found myself in danger, rejected by family, friends, and society. Forced to flee my home to seek safety, I traveled to Kenya hoping for asylum, only to face even more hardship. Now, living in yet another country, I continue to struggle, not only with the trauma of being a refugee but with the daily fight to survive as a queer person.

My journey as a queer refugee has been one of immense pain and loss. When I left my country, I was running from violence—both physical and emotional. In Kenya, I hoped to find protection and safety, but what I encountered was indifference and exclusion. I wasn’t safe there either. Once again, I had to flee, moving to a neighboring country in search of refuge, but the discrimination followed me.

Living as a refugee is already incredibly difficult. The lack of basic necessities—food, medication, housing—is a constant strain. But being queer adds another layer of struggle. I often find myself isolated, marginalized by both the community I seek to integrate with and the very system that is supposed to protect me. There is no safety net, and the fear of violence or rejection is a constant presence in my life.

The systems in place often fail us. Many refugees are denied the support they desperately need, not because they aren’t worthy, but because their identities—especially their queer identities—make them vulnerable to further discrimination. The global refugee system has not yet adequately addressed the unique needs of LGBTQ+ refugees, and this is why the suffering continues.

What’s worse is that it’s not just about the physical survival—it's about the emotional toll it takes. Every day I fight to exist as myself, but too often, the world makes it feel like that’s a fight I can’t win. My story is not unique. There are countless queer refugees who face the same struggles of survival and the constant question: "Where can I go to be safe?"

But there is hope. This struggle is not just mine—it's shared by many, and it’s through awareness and action that we can make a difference. We need to advocate for better protections for queer refugees, for policies that take our unique struggles into account. We need organizations to provide not just shelter, but the mental and emotional support necessary for survival. And we need the wider public to open their hearts, understand our pain, and help us amplify our voices.

I urge you, if you’re reading this, to take action. Donate to my fundraiser. Advocate for policies that protect us, and raise awareness about the discrimination we face. Share our stories—let us be heard. The world must understand that queer refugees are not just statistics, but human beings fighting for the right to live openly and safely.

The fight is ongoing, but with support, it’s one we can win. I am more than my struggle, and together, we can ensure that every queer refugee has the chance to live without fear, to be themselves fully, and to survive with dignity.

[the-witchhunter]

DP x DC: Why summoning the Ghost King and Danny when he expects Pariah Dark might literally give John a panic attack

So, this would not be the first time John has summoned something and didn’t get what he expected. To explain that, I’ll have to explain the Newcastle incident, and I will but going to give a brief overview of what the consequences are before dipping into that… because it’s a bit intense

So during a summoning one of the things you need to do is name the being you’re summoning. The ritual and sigils are what brings the being forth. Naming the summoned entity is part of the binding. The binding is what gives you an amount of control over the being summoned and offers protection to the summoner

So having the wrong name means they have no control over what they summoned. Naming the spirit puts it on a leash and muzzles it, having the wrong name is just letting it in without the leash or muzzle

Let’s just say at this point, Constantine’s past experience with summoning would make him super against summoning “the Ghost King” and one of the other magic users like Zatana would have to do it

John would be freaking out the moment the wrong guy showed up, he has some trauma around that. Even if it’s just Danny, this is going to dredge up some stuff and he’s going to have a hard drink afterwards

I will now be going into one of the most traumatizing moments of John Constantine’s life. As such, it’s going to get pretty intense and I’m toning it down a bit

Explanation of the Newcastle Incident Content warning sexual assault and abuse

In 1978 Constantine and his “magic gang” go to the Casanova Club to deal with a bit of a situation there. They arrive and there’s a lot of dead bodies in the basement and a very traumatized girl

Astra Logue’s father was basically a cult leader and an orgy enthusiast. He and his followers did some not so great things to Astra. Astra was psychic, so in her distress she summoned a hellhound named Norfolthing (actually a primordial elemental but that takes explaining) to protect her from the sexual abuse of her father and his followers. Norfulthing proceeded to commit sexual assault against the cult before killing them

John and the Magic Gang showed up to deal with the aftermath. In order to get Astra out of there and get rid of Norfulthing, they decided the best way to deal with this was to “fight fire with fire”

They then proceed to summon the demon/former god Nergal but the ritual didn’t have his name. Right ritual, wrong name. Nergal then proceeded to drag Astra’s soul to hell, Norfulthing raped one of the magic gang

John then spent the next two years at Ravenscar Mental Asylum and only managed to rescue Astra’s soul from hell about a decade later. She was still dead obviously but at least she wasn’t suffering in hell

So yeah

John has some baggage when it comes to summoning things with the wrong name

[rootspiral]

Agatha All Along deep dive: episode 3 part 3

(Wandavision entries: [1][2][3])

(AAA entries: ep1 [1][2][3][4] ep2 [1][2][3][4] ep3 [1][2][3] ep4 [1][2][3][4][5][6][7][+1] ep5 [1][2][3][4][5] ep6 [1][2][3] ep7 [1][2][3][4][5][6] ep8 [1][2][3][4][5][6][7])

lilia: falling through time, desperately trying to help alice

agatha: bitch I'm trying to save myself!!!!! oh she's so awkward when she thinks lilia's going mad. she's a moment away from grabbing a broom and going there, there like in that 30 rock scene

I know they had a relatively low budget for this show and it was such a blessing in disguise. they invested in great sets and instead of cgi they relied on classic cinema tricks that I find so satisfying?? Idk if it's just nostalgia talking. here they simply move the camera away for a moment, lower the lights and move the actor in position, and it makes for an amazing jumpscare.

baby lilia asking 'vuoi vedere?' do you want to see? because it is a choice for lilia. for a long time she chose not to use her gift- she was simply too powerful, she saw too much, and the knowledge of the future scarred her and made her an outcast among others

alice's smile at seeing a vision of her mom T-T

why inconvenient? what was jen doing? she was an obstetrician and midwife. she was helping women out with herbs and pagan knowledge passed down from mother to daughter. Back in the day midwives were struggling to get their skills recognized in an increasingly male dominated field, they were advocating alternative treatments for women constantly humiliated by condescending modern doctors - from forced bed rest to insane asylums to lobotomy in worst case scenarios. think Charlotte Perkins Gilman's short story, The Yellow Wallpaper. think about everything that happened to Virginia Woolf.

we know that alice was a teenager when lorna died in a fire. she wasn't well, alice says, and we see now that she had a drinking problem. it's equally possible that the demon got to her or that she set herself on fire out of desperation. and if lorna could feel her own mother dying, alice could too.

daang great zombie makeup on the teacher lady

lilia when her incredible abilities made her able to see Death: burdened by knowledge way beyond the scope of humanity she goes into exile

agatha when her incredible abilities made her able to see Death: you know what I'm gonna tap that

I saw people saying that because the Road wasn't real nothing that happened in the show mattered, that they all died for nothing. I disagree completely, and not only because Billy's chaos magic is so astonishingly powerful that he can create a functional Road out of thin air. like, it wasn't a trick, he made it real. But more importantly, what happened to these women, their experiences, their growth on the Road is real. Even if Billy didn't do it on purpose, even if it's fucked up that a teenager can essentially go, you know what would be cool? if they all experienced their deepest trauma! but that's the point, that's the point, that's the whole damn point of the show. life is chaos and nonsense and heartbreak, it's up to you to find a meaning where there isn't any. look at lilia! the lesson is not that you're going to die, but what you choose to do with the cards that you're dealt, with the time that you're given.

while Patti clearly has an american accent, she is speaking correct sicilian, tutti morti su' - they could have had her talk in italian and hardly anyone would have noticed, but they went above and beyond with the details. the latin in the show is also rather impressive, like they actually hired experts rather than relying on google translate

agatha has gotten too used to run leaving a pile of bodies behind. not so easy to consider them just food when you have to live alongside them and witness their feelings, is it?? first wanda and now this!

@perpetualanon pointed out yesterday that agatha also had selfish reasons for wanting to save billy, i.e. she didn't want to risk him being poisoned because who knows what horrors a hallucinating billy could create. Yes! exactly that! it's always worth saying that when agatha has these fleeting moments of compassion and altruism it's in the context of a whole lotta selfishness. i think of her as that drawing of Stitch's badness level, her whole body is almost filled to the brim with awfulness and there's only a thin layer of goodness that she's constantly trying to smother. her actions on the Road are almost entirely selfish, but for the first time in centuries she's surrounded by people, like Lilia here and Jen and Alice and especially Billy, who are accidentally nurturing her almost atrophied good side. and lemme tell you she's pissed about it!

of course these two don't know what a sous vide is, one is dirt poor and the other eats people.

I'm gonna take a stand for zoomers here, he might have never learned what counterclockwise means, but millennials like me would also have hesitated and tried to picture it in our minds. because a lot of us lack spacial intelligence and are generally rather dumb

the shock and terror on her face when she hears nicky crying

another great special effect achieved only with lights and the cast shuffling out of frame

they show the darkhold because they need to mislead viewers and can't give nicky's story away just yet, but doesn't it make sense that agatha would see it? all these centuries blaming rio, and deep down agatha is haunted not by Death, but by her own actions and choices. the way she kept Nicky isolated and unsafe. the way she insulted his memory by going on killing sprees instead of letting herself mourn. the way she used the darkhold to corrupt her soul more and more, because she was never brave enough to confront her guilt.

kathryn hahn really said, do you want Emotional Devastation???? do you wanna see a woman SUFFER? do you want your heart put through a blender??? I can do that in TWO seconds

agatha wants to NOT DIE so badly that she has to drop the clown act and give jen a proper pep talk. because she knows what makes people tick and she can uplift just as well as she can destroy, she can help jen because she knows her so well. there's always that potential there, all of agatha's talent and her intelligence and experience could shape her into a great mother and sister in a coven. a potential that evanora refused to see and that will likely never be fulfilled.

and the irony, the irony of never wanting to hurt jen, to deliberately avoid going after her - because she's a midwife. because nicky was stillborn, because she had to give birth alone in the woods. agatha believes with all her heart that jen's work is fundamentally good and important. and yet she was the one who bound and tortured and violated her. she was so fucking focused on herself that she didn't even realize she was tramping and destroying everything in her path like a mad steamroller. she allied with the enemy, she went against her community's best interests. there's a lot to think about there, I really want to explore it more

patti during that hot ones episode

NOW YOU GUYS REMEMBER HER. and of course it's alice who does

your internalized stereotypes are really testing lilia's patience, billy (and while they consider the oven sharon is writhing and dying on the table)

how it started: jen pushing lilia out of the way

how it ended: "you are my sister in the craft" 🥲

I love you patti lupone

alice is strong! alice is noble! alice is pure of heart!

gee i wonder why

they had to add a goonies poster in billy's room because of this scene, but i guess disney didn't want to buy the copyright so the poster says "the goofballs"

agatha shoving everyone and then kicking jen twice for good measure

my guilty pleasure is watching reactors on youtube (don't judge) and everyone, everyone had my same reaction to sharon's death: she is not really dead. it was too unceremonious, too sudden. you cannot have debra jo rupp unconscious for half an episode and then get rid of her like that, she's too talented, too funny, how can they keep the humor up without her? if sharon is gone they don't want to watch anymore! no, they're gonna bring her back for sure, they're witches, they're going to find a way.

And then Alice dies, and it's unfair, it's too sad, she just had her big victory! that doesn't sit right with you, that the writers would do her so dirty. And then Lilia dies.

Wanda said it from the very beginning: we cannot reverse death, no matter how sad it makes us. Some things are forever. Sharon's death was horrible and uncomfortable and senseless on purpose, because these shows are about the exploration of grief. How can you make peace with the impossible? How can you reconcile yourself with a nice fun lady dying after losing her last shred of agency, scared and alone and forgotten? Didn't she deserve so much more than being just a casualty of witchfolk drama? And how can you reconcile yourself with someone as good and as wonderful as Alice dying in such a cruel way? What about the death of a parent? of a spouse? of a child? What about your own death, as inevitable and inescapable as your birth?

I'm posting this one early cos I didn't sleep last night and I wanna take a nap now 🥲 when I'm tired i ramble, I knew that already. sorry-y!

we get to episode four tomorrow, and y'all know what, or rather WHO, that means!

go to episode 4 part 1

[zepskies]

Series Masterlist - Take Me Home

Pairing: Beau Arlen x F. Reader 

Summary: You are another lost soul at Sunny Day Excursions. You’re aiming to settle in Helena, Montana, where Beau Arlen is the new sheriff in town. But you both have a past you’re running from. 

AN: Welcome to my first ever Big Sky series! This is set towards the beginning of season 3.

Series Tags/Warnings: (**18+ only!) Angst and grief/trauma, PTSD, canon murder mystery, eventual smut.

🎵 Listen While You Read: The TMH Music Playlist (YouTube)

Chapters:

Part 1: All of Her Days

Part 2: It's Not Right, But It's Okay

Part 3: Welcome Home

Part 4: A Past & Future Thing

Part 5: Not That Simple

Part 6: A Man or a Coward

Part 7: On the Edge of a Knife

Part 8: Take Me Home

Part 9: A Choice to Make

Series complete!

Bonus One-Shots:

A Good Man Is Hard to Find** When Beau starts pulling away from you and Emily during a very difficult case, will the pressure make or break your relationship?

A Crime of Passion** When Beau Arlen decides to “make it up to you,” he’s damn thorough.

S.I.N.G.** Beau wishes you’d take this self-defense lesson a little more seriously.

Echoes Beau has another rough night, but you help him face a harder truth.

Ko-Fi Me ☕

Join My Patreon 🌟

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Comment below if you’d like to be tagged in this series!

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[lookingforhappy]

I feel like sometimes we put too much blame on the other siblings for neglecting our favourites:

Luther has repeatedly gone off on his own (investigating Reginald's moon research, getting high in the club, going to the coffee shop, locking Viktor up, entirety of his time in the 60s pre-Five's arrival, refusing Five's plea for help, refusing to stay and talk to Viktor, etc etc) without telling anyone or wanting anyone to follow him. Him being gone for 1 day and no one noticing isn't really a red flag.

Diego's obssession with JFK was extreme and a red flag for his mental health, but he has been a walking mental health red flag since he was a toddler (so have they all). He was also ignoring all of Five's warnings about him saving JFK potentially causing an apocalypse that would make his actions worthless as he'd actually kill billions. He then ignored all of Luther's warnings about meeting their father, which Luther was right about (mostly). Five leaving him in the asylum wasn't unwarranted, no one knew that the Swedes were going after Diego at all.

(allison is honestly valid in her blame of the others not looking out for her as she is consistently expected to be the one to reach out, not the other way around)

Klaus’ addiction, homelessness and PTSD are ignored by his family largely because he has refused help and advice so often that they’ve learnt not to give it. He is ignored when giving plot relevant information because he has described a thousand absurd things to them that are ultimately meaningless. In essence, he is the boy who cried Wolf.

Five is incredibly rude to his whole family, barring Viktor, and is consistently minimizing their traumas and experiences to get them to do what he wants (even if he does want to save their lives, he's going about it the wrong way). He is also very cryptic and withholds a lot of crucial information about things like the apocalypse.

(ben is difficult because most of the time he can only talk to klaus who is having difficulties of his own, and who tells everyone that ben isn't around which is a dick move honestly but not one done out of malice and ben is well aware of that)

Viktor has almost always put his own trauma and recovery before anyone else's. He has physically fought and hurt every one of his siblings and his foster (?) son, and arguably done so consciously. He has also bared his sibling's private home life/childhood to the entire world without their knowledge or consent.

the situation is usually a lot more complicated than "everyone needs to apologise and do better to character A" because character A isn't innocent in this either

[ollycohens]

oh no you guys. i’m going to spew things i’ve realized while rewatching umbrella academy. I’m realizing were all being too sucked into fanon things after being stuck without canon content for so long. We have convinced ourselves Five acts like a mean mean dude to everyone but rewatching, i’ve realized he’s only stressed and is saying things out of panicked anger, especially in s1 with the apocalypse dooming over them. he acts soft to his siblings multiple times, he’s really not as mean as we write him in fanfiction. he is a little crap though, that’s for sure, and i love him for that <3

also realizing that the siblings don’t hate five. they just literally don’t know him at all. he came back a completely different person after 17 years for the siblings, they don’t know five, he’s a stranger so of course they’re gonna be cold to him. it’s like, “i don’t know you well, but you’re always going to be my brother in the end”.

ALSO. for those who ship some of the siblings, uhm… i’ve seen a lot of you guys try to prove that they don’t see eachother as siblings and more like academy students, but they very much say in just about every episode that they see eachother as siblings. they don’t actually SAY that word by word but they say things like “she’s our sister”, or “our dad”. if they say OUR dad�� bro. i’m not even going to continue, you can put it together yourself. But, i do realize why people ship the siblings. I am not defending incest shippers but with umbrella academy i can see why people have resorted to it. only 3 of the characters in the main sibling cast has romantic partners. people like shipping people, people love writing romantic relationships, but with only diego/lila, dave/klaus, and sissy/viktor, (i’m not going to count five/dolores for now) people are desperate with the need to ship the rest of the siblings with someone, and since there are only a few actual canon characters in the show that interact with our main 7, people start shipping them together… yikes. anywho, that’s all for that peice. i blame the show writers as well for shipping luther/allison, they did not have to do that, but i’m hoping it was only to convey the severity of what childhood trauma does to people.

ALSO THIS HERE SHOOK ME. I actually think Reginald cares for the siblings. i hate to say it, but it’s true. caring for them does not mean being good, though. he was a horrible father, and person, but he genuinely did care for the siblings, in a like, “being the best is the best thing for you, i will make you better, for your sake, even if you don’t know it now, you will see that i am right” kind of way.

also why has NOBODY MENTIONED THIS. in season 2 when diego first reunites with five in the asylum, while he’s walking into the visitors room, he’s staring at five with this heartfelt, soft look, and then says “five…” in the most soft spoken voice ever 😭 your honor i love them

ALSO UGHHH THIS. IM GOING TO FREAK OUT ABOUT CAMERAWORK AND METAPHORS HERE SO BARE WITH ME. we as a fandom complain about the lack of flashbacks five has due to his ptsd. we’ve seen his first flashback since getting back to his family in s1 during the van scene when he gets triggered by those kids playing and starts thinking about his own childhood, i’m guessing. i ate that scene up, and was sad to see that be one of the only deeply vulnerable scenes he has in the season, and during my first watch i thought they’d never bring it back up. but they do!! i may be stupid for not realizing but whatever. in season 2, when five is trying to explain at elliot’s with all his siblings around that another apocalypse is coming, everyone starts talking about each other. as someone who studies film and camerawork, i love this scene. we see the camera focus on five as it slowly zooms in. it doesn’t switch scenes at all as the siblings voices overlap and echo over eachother. this whole scene conveys him getting overwhelmed and he starts to zone out, starting to think of the nuclear war he saw his siblings in. the scenes of the war start quickly switching through, showing many different scenes of it before it switches back to five, who says “guys, you all die. i want to forget it but i can’t” which just UGH its so well done there. if you think about it, he was starting to slip into another flashback. he was triggered by talking about their deaths in the war but was handling it well until the siblings started fighting, where we see the overlapping voices happen. it portrays him losing control and being unable to pull it back together with too much going on for him to focus on grounding himself. we DO however, see that five was able to pull himself out before he fell too deep into the flashback. i love how they show this through them still having the scene showing the war, but then fives voice starts talking over the scene which is still focusing on the war as if he was pushing it back and forcing himself to come back to the present.

thank you for reading if you’ve made it this far, i will continue to freak out another time <3

[animefreak1145]

Church Bells(Adler x Bell!Reader x Woods)

Previous Intel

Eighth Intel | Before

Description:

The world ended for Bell after Cuba.

The whole world followed soon after.

Zombies AU | Drabble Format

Warnings/Tags: Mature Rating, Graphic Violence, Dark Themes, Trauma, Body Horror, Gore, Major Character Death, Brainwashing, Post!Cuba, Pre!Solovetsky, No Solovetsky, Female Bell, Older Man/Younger Woman, Toxic Relationship, Obsession, Menticide

Words: 4k (What's a drabble again?)

▞ ▚ ▞ ▚ ▞ ▚ ▞ ▚ ▛ ▞ ▚ ▞ ▚ ▞ ▚ ▞ ▚ ▟ ▞ ▚ ▞ ▚

 ■ ▞ ■ ▚ ��  “Bell” ■ ▞ ■ ▚ ■ 

Day After Ukraine Mission

16:07 | February 28th, 1981

CIA SAFEHOUSE E9, “DIE LANDEBAHN” 

“You do that a lot.”

You start from what you were staring at, the codes that are so tricky and you feel so close. The intel from what you have in your hands adding a piece to the puzzle that you’re enamored with—the complexities satisfying a carnal part of you that you can’t name. Your head turns to find Lazar’s curious yet amused smile, close to the television they used sometimes for the news not at your usual spot at the too small desk with the too large computer; at the center table instead is where you chose to haunt. 

“What?” you reply dumbly, too out of your element to say a more snarky reply. The transition from focused on the task to this interruption from the man that is more of an Eema than an Abba due to how hearty he looks and feels and making sure everyone felt the same by also stuffing their face. 

“That.” You were met with Lazar’s finger in your face. You resisted the urge to stare cross eyed and instead gave him a more inquisitive look, eyes searching. Which only humored him more, releasing a chuckle. “You have quite an intimidating stare.”

You push the hand away, scoffing,

“What? At my work? Isn’t that like everyone else?”

Lazar hummed, his eyes glittering at a joke you can’t understand.

“No. You have that type of stare that will freeze lesser men. Or get slapped by someone who thinks you’re looking for a fight. Or get you put into an asylum. Only, when you decode, you have an insane smile on your face. It’d be creepy if we didn’t know you.”

“Uh huh.” You dismissed, eyes glancing at the medical office. “You should work better on your compliments if you want Park to have a drink with you.”

If Park wasn’t in the medical office room along with Adler, you’re sure Lazar would throw his old cup noodle at you. Alas, he only gave you a dry “Ha. Ha.” with a neutral expression but still didn’t leave. He wants an answer. 

You turn to him fully, elbows leaning back against the desk, petulant.

“I doubt I smile like how you describe…” Lazar snorted while you frowned at him, before shifting your gaze back to your papers. “I don’t know. I just…love puzzles. They’re fun to solve.”

“Is that what makes you stare so intently?” Lazar leaned against the television, the stand slightly creaking at the movement, his intrigue seeming sincere. Another question hidden, two subjects being asked for one answer. A wall. “The thrill?”

Is that what love is to you?

You tapped at the papers, biting your lip in thought. 

“Maybe a part…I just have this need to figure things out. To open it up—to find the numbers, the letters, the riddles. In an order that is random but it’s not. It’s just a trick. A shadow on the wall. A reason for each piece. Each hint. Every piece of the puzzle has its purpose. It’s reason for being.” You didn’t notice when you started smiling, the topic consuming you like books and pictures do. But you just kept going as you grabbed your pen and fiddled with it, miming writing numbers or letters. “Like Sims with mechanics, I think. Or you with bomb wiring. You find the hardy wires or broken pieces—and I untangle it all. I even love how difficult it could be if I find a cipher intellectual. It’s fun.”

“Sounds maddening,” Lazar replied simply, brow raising. “And painful. Maybe even obsessive.”

You shrug, staring deeply at your own pen, tone far away. As if you were speaking about another topic than this. Something other. Like a secret.

“That’s love, isn’t it? Pain and obsession?”

“Your books tell you that? Or you come to that conclusion yourself?” You pressed your lips, silent. Only glancing at Lazar(are you easy to read?) who only smiled gently before switching gears and letting out a booming laugh. “With that description of love—you very much implied Adler is in love with our friendly neighborhood Perseus.”

Your jaw dropped, a gasp being released as you sat up rigid in your chair. A defense for Adler and a denial ready only for a startling guffaw to join in.

“What the shit are you talking about, Lazar?” Woods comes from his previous spot practicing with the boxing bag, Mason side by side with his own amused gaze as they come close to the center table. Woods snorted as he leaned back against the table near you instead of taking a proper seat. “Can you imagine our own Robert Redford switching spit with a commie? Ha!”

“Is that what you’re doing?” Mason quips to his friend with a nudge while Woods expression quickly changed to offended with no heat as he pushes Mason back with a disbelieving snort. “What? Sorry I’m airing out your fantasies.”

It was strange watching them. The easy back and forth quips and teases. Lazar felt like a warm hearth and home cooked meals compared to Mason’s steady kindness of a worn animal despite its past and Woods…

You briefly think of the night prior, how charged he felt out in the field. Not eager for it yet…willing to take everything and anything out his way. But his friendly taunts and words to you too. The arcade. The room where you got the intel and the knowledge he had of you, knowing you would’ve loved to play around more with the tech and computers there if the both of you had time and not world ending doom.

You weren’t impressed by his skills. Skills are to be expected in this line of work. People can call you cocky all they want.

But how personable he is? That was different.

It was unexpected.

(Why did it feel like he’s more close to you than Sims right now? Why has everyone been so disconnected from you? Even—blue fire for eyes hidden by the shaded wall, wheat dancing in the wind, artful cracks across a canvas—)

A hand waved in front of your face, your eyes broken from its lost look as you blinked back to the present.

“Hello? Earth to Bell?” Woods was still next to you and you couldn’t help but notice that Mason moved away with Lazar to where Lazar’s station is. Still talking with friendly smiles and easy atmosphere. You blinked again before turning towards Woods, who looked at you with a mix of amusement and concern. “What happened there? Did you even listen to a word I said?”

You didn’t. You’ve been doing this a lot. Getting lost in your head. Your brain foggy and mind distant. Not as quick as you usually are. You thankfully haven’t had this happen in the field. You hope it stays that way.

Instead of giving a straight answer, your lips only rose in a dry smile.

“Sorry, was thinking just how you got the guts to punch Hudson of all people.”

Woods huffed, crossing his arms and leaning back, brushing your shoulders as he did. 

“Doesn’t take guts to punch a prick.”

“No,” your smile turns up a tad, more mischief. “Takes some balls instead. Can’t have balls without a prick nearby or there’ll be trouble.”

Woods made a choked sound, as he stared at you dumbly before slapping the table and releasing a loud boom of a laugh. You wonder how he does that. So loud. So free. 

“You got more spunk than I thought, Bell. Guess you need it to even get the idea to escape in a Ruskie tank.”

You huff out your nose, but your chest still lightened at the praise. Your smile coming easy now and tension completely fallen away. You hid it though as you turned back to your work, picking up a stray picture of the Ukraine base you took.

“Did it for you. I figured you would want to run some commie’s over.”

“Oh, I’ve dreamed of it. I would say top five of my favorite wet dreams.”

You couldn’t help it. You snorted, it bursted through your chest and it didn’t stop, only turned to a laugh. You put a hand over your mouth to try to contain it but Woods satisfied expression only made you laugh more.

“Why—why did you say that?!” You try to collect yourself but you couldn’t. Not when Woods waggled his brows as if in answer. “Pfft—should I even ask what’s top one?”

Woods shrugged. 

“No can do. Gotta protect your innocence somewhere. My mind is a crazy place. Don’t wanna scare you off.” You snort again, shaking your head at him and tried to get back to work. Woods didn’t move as you stared around at the different pictures you took with Intel. “Say, where’s the random pics you took of me?”

“Don’t worry, Woods. I didn’t take out a camera with you over the mannequin—“ You stopped when he shook your shoulder, a warning gaze that only made you bite back another smile and only glare at him with no heat as you pushed his hand off. “Calm down,” you say quietly. “I haven’t said anything. Scout’s Honor.” You raise a hand as if to show.

Woods rose a brow dubiously.

“Were you even a Girl Scout?”

“Doubtful. Looks like you just gotta hope I don’t open my mouth about it.”

Woods grunted. Yet still didn’t leave. 

“Do you normally take pics of everything and everyone? Even on missions like that?”

“I like it. I like taking pictures. Did I make you uncomfortable?” You did take a few of him before you took a picture of the base. It was nice lightning and he looked good. “I can give you the pictures I took to you, if you want. They were good shots.”

“I suppose I can add it to my scrapbook.” Woods joked before shaking his head, his eyes turning more curious as the conversation went on. Gaze more assessing as he stared down at you. “Nah, it’s fine.  Don’t mind you keeping them. After I take a look of course. I guess I’m just asking…what’s the obsession with the camera? Film is precious right?” At your shoulder tensing, you starting to get defensive, he quickly changed tactics as he rose a hand in calming manner. “I ain’t judging. Just curious. Couldn’t help but overhear Park talk to you that Adler doesn’t like wasting resources. Or some shit like that. I don’t get the big deal. But it must be if you keep doing it despite them having a stick up their asses about some film of all things.”

Your brows pinched together, gazing intently at Woods eyes. You don’t see a reprimand. Or exasperation. Or even amused exasperation, like you were just being cute while doing something disobedient—like a pet jumping at their owners even as they tell them no with an amused smile. (“Always the one who never listens. Huh, Bell? Didn’t I tell you before about the pictures?”) He’s being sincere in his interest. It was his expression that did it.

You looked away, eyes taking in the safehouse around them. 

“Ever feel like a ghost in your own body?”

“Can’t say that I have,” Woods answered roughly. You nodded next to you, him taking that as permission that he can finally properly sit next to you. You didn’t mind thighs or shoulders brushing. Comrades now. Both of you throwing your lives on the line. Getting shot  by a common enemy brings people together no other way can. 

“Well, the coma did a number on me. I don’t remember much. I can’t put a story to scars on my body. My life, my memories—it’s only Vietnam.”

“Fucked up thing to remember. That whole war was a shit show,” Woods provided. “You must’ve been young.”

You only hummed, distant. Eyes straying in the direction of the red room. Your skin prickled in goosebumps, ears falsely hearing shots and napalm strikes. You shuddered but hid it by clenching your fists on the table, eyes on your jumbled words of your work. 

“Yeah…Hue City was just the start of everything going downhill…But I guess my point is…” You don’t know how to properly say it, you can’t find the English word for this. Esurient for memories erased. The feeling of not quite fitting in everyone’s circle, even with Sims. Monachopsis. (Are you even here at all? It’s like they stare past you.) “Life is memories. I don’t have any. What’s a person if not memories? So…I don’t feel…like it. A person.” You shrug casually, mutely. Hand wandering to a picture, thumbing it. “Ghosts don’t seem to remember stuff besides a deep motive. That’s what others believe. But…with pictures…pictures are for memories. If I take pictures, I’m actually taking memories. And if take enough memories…” You struggled once more how to explain but Woods was sharp despite his looks.

“You’ll be a person again.” Your eyes darted towards him, giving him a minute nod as he seemed to consider your words with a tilt of his head. The silence between the two of you wasn’t stifling, just…there.

You felt like something was released from you. 

Unlocked. 

The key was just for someone to ask. 

“Hey, listen—“ you turned at the soft touch to your shoulder, and you noticed Woods looked uncomfortable about the atmosphere you created. Not used to sharing open emotions like this no doubt but still had what appeared like care in his eyes. “You should really talk to Mason, he—“

Your ears honed in on the medical office opening, your eyes quick to follow as your head swiveled. Everything turned silent as your eyes settled upon the body you can recognize even in the thickest of jungles or deepest of wet rice paddies. And as your eyes settled, your thoughts of ruminating toska and the sense of lacuna dissipated.

You were so busy trying to catch what Adler was saying to Park beside him, you temporarily forgotten Woods next to you. You could hear him talking. Some form of advise. 

You turned back to your work and absently nodded with a quick smile to match at him. Your lips moved to say thanks. You think you did.

You didn’t see Woods throw another look of concern towards you, of suspicion. Turning something over his head.

You forced your ears to stretch, as if with force you can have super hearing. With brute force you can have the arcane man with valleys upon his visage, with liquid nectar that bounces with voluminous silk, voice of gravel that leads to the path of victory and makes your mind hazy. 

You still had a pen in your hand, tight as you looked down with a frown at the papers. Your leg beginning to bounce under the table. Impatient. Restless. Athirst.

“I’m going out for a smoke,” Adler called out(Beckoned, Signaled, Enticed—trinket waved like a treat. Your nepenthe.) clearly, more loudly than how he was talking to Park. You didn’t turn your head as he walked out the door near the garage door, too obvious. But you did sneak a look when he exited, stealing gaze right when you saw his back before the door closed.

Except it didn’t. A small rock held it ajar.

A secret.

“What the hell?” Woods was bewildered, staring after Adler while you tried to hide the fact. Waiting a beat. Or two. Your leg bounced under the table, growing more insistent. “Doesn’t he get his fix in here anyways?”

You heard Lazar answer for Woods, something about Adler needing a change of scenery sometimes. You can see in your peripheral his glance. You ignored it as you stood up to head back to your computer desk.

“I’m taking a break too,” you say, quickly picking a book from your pile in the corner after a brief deliberation.

“Uh…” Woods face would’ve made you laugh from how scrunched up it was as he stared as you quickly fixed your work papers back in the center table, book under your arm. “Isn’t that what you were doing? Like fuckin’ a second ago?”

“No,” you answer, organizing the pictures and quickly scanning them before you do so. “Lazar interrupted me from my work. And then you did. It was an interruption. Not a break.”

“You sure turned prickly,” Woods said in answer.

You pause, seeing Woods was somehow offended. He just doesn’t get it.

“Says the cactus,” you quip with a quick smile, twitching up more at Woods huff out his nose. “I…like taking my break the same time as Adler,” You decide to answer the question in his eyes. He did listen. “It’s what we’ve always done. I read. He smokes. And right back to work we go. It works better this way.”

You didn’t wait for his reply. 

You didn’t even bother to see if he was about to.

You have the book in your hand, and you have your tether(Your eyes looks for the sun tanned gold even though it should blind you, but you never cared for your wellbeing. Protect the quiet monster like a demon enraged. Demon for monster. Monster for demon. The coin. You keep it in your pocket, whelve it—the whispered confession—the gravity of your ustulation and agastopia can burn through your pockets and skin all it wish. You keep it in. Like the pain killers Adler gave you earlier for your migraine after their meeting with Hudson about Ukraine.) outside. 

You open the door and without looking, you went to the left side of the door that’s by some unused pallets. Sitting on them and opening your book to your last point, as if you were ignoring him. (How could you?) He was smoking as he leaned against the wall beside the door. You always left of it, him always right. (▞ He’s always right. ▞ He ▙ never ▞ lies. Not to ▖ ▞ ▗ you.)

It was silent. Only the turning of your pages as you focused on reading, and the occasional exhale you hear now and then if you strain your ears. A puff of grey smoke above the two as your audience.

You don’t mind the quiet moments. You take what you can get. The two of you have too long a history for you to be uncomfortable at silence. Or needing something more. 

You don’t.

(The secret coin in your pocket burns, and you try not to flinch nor whine. You must stay sated, ▚ демон ▚ ▛ ▖ ▖.) 

A shot went through the front of your skull, your hand darting up as it seemed to go to the back of your head, a hiss to your lips. You almost dropping the book with your other hand.

“Another migraine?” He was close. You opened your eyes you didn’t realize were closed as you were hunched over your knees, spotting his shoes. 

You only offered a small nod before closing your eyes again, jaw tight. 

“I don’t…” you stop, speaking more quietly to help with the pounding. The sunlight was too much already, you don’t want to add your own voice to your own misery. “Dont know why it’s getting worse. Is this…normal?”

“It can be.” He replied simply, to the point. “Here. Take this.”

You blinked your eyes open and lifted your head to spot he took out some more medicine from his leather jacket, holding it out to the pills in the palm of his hand. At the sight, your stomach curdled.

You felt yourself pale and you don’t know why.

Adler must’ve noticed your hesitation. Tilting his head and lips twitching to a frown around his cigarette. He lifted a hand, taking one deep inhale, embers subtly lighting his face before he threw it off. He exhaled out his nose, smoke flowing smoothly. 

Your throat tightened as you stared. But not in want. It felt more heavy. More heady. Your mouth open more in a wince than for anything else.

“You know this will help. We gotta make sure you’re in shape for this, Bell.” You bowed your head in shame, book now beside you on the pallet as you clenched your hands on your knees. You heard him sigh. And now you see him, closer—he’s kneeling in front of you. One knee down, the other having his elbow leaning against it. “I don’t have to explain to you the stakes currently. You know how serious this is since you and Woods found out Hudson’s dirty little secret about Perseus and the nuke he has. You know it. We can’t fuck around anymore.”

You hunched your shoulders, as if that can hide you from your guilt. Because you spotted his glance towards your book. You can guess what else he’s hinting.

Stay a ghost or try to be a person? A part of your mind asked. You tried to not let your heart crack of no more pictures.

“I know…” you say, eyes down and to the side. Yet… “It’s just…it wasn’t that long ago you gave me them…I don’t—I mean—“ Your tongue is tied again. Like always near him. You didn’t mean to sound accusing or hinting. Adler is trained for medical issues on the field. You tried to take a breath. “I just don’t want to be a burden with all this. Slow you guys down. I don’t want to disappoint you.” You did a tight squeeze of your knees, practically white knuckled grip, a mix of uncaring at your honesty and hating yourself for it.

You felt your chin be lifted up, Adler’s forefinger doing so you can be face to face. He assessed you seriously.

“You won’t, kid.” He’s so close. Breath to your face. So calm too. Your anchor. He believes in you. If you or him leaned just an inch or two forward—he took his hand away from your face before bringing his palm with the medicine again. “Taking these will help. I’ll watch over you. Just like the good ‘ol days.” He tilted his head, a quirk of the mouth up. And you think he couldn’t be more charming. 

You ignored your past nerves, quickly taking the medicine in a dry swallow, gloved hands brushing his bare ones(Damn it all.). 

He nodded at you, the barest thing of it before he stood up. Glancing at your book again with pressed lips before facing you once more with a raised brow.

“Oscar Wilde? Here I thought you only read Dostoevsky and Nietzsche.”

“It’s a collection of some of his poem’s. And a break from existentialism and nihilism is good for the mind. But you’ve always been more of a stoic,” you shoot him a teasing look, an attempt to get your bravado back. “Our very own Prince Andrei Bolkonsky.”

Adler did a small huff out his nose.

“Just don’t start bowing.” Adler did a quick motion of his to the door. “Come on. Back to work, Tolstoy.”

You nod, marking where you were in the book before following Adler back in, your hold on the book tight. Who knows when you’ll get to read again.

Stay a ghost or try to be a person? 

(It doesn’t matter. Adler made the choice for you.)

You tell yourself it’s fine. You instead let yourself be a book for Adler—willing to be read. You imagine how he would do it, a book of you in his hands. Read through your pages, open up your spine and let his fingers run through your creases—how easily can he finish you? How many times could he, until you’re worn and wrinkled from use? Will his touch trace the abuse of a loved book?

The place where he put his finger on your chin burns.

…

The page you marked on the page reads: “Never regret thy fall, O Icarus of the fearless flight, For the greatest tragedy of them all, Is never to feel the burning light."

▞ ▚

▛

▞ ▚

A/N: Bell is a SIMP. Poor girl. The best way to tell if Bell is in love, is if she suddenly starts thinking in poetry. Bell stares intensely you say? Bell loves intensely too.

I’m also confusing myself with Dark!Adler and Soft!Adler. But again he’s both so 🤷‍♀️ Man so toxic and a red flag, he’s even confusing the author.

Also, I’m planning to write really quickly to finish up For Whom the Bell Tolls. Didn’t want to but I really want to go ahead and write for BO6. Then again, that fic was NEVER supposed to be that long or longer. Sorry if I speed through some stuff, I just want to finish it and move on then torture you all further.

Tag List: @tr1ppylady @parkeepingparker @weirdoartist21 @gojocat247 @mayaibnlaahad @dallmaistir @salvija @kylezkie4adler @asaltryefl @stupid-stinky @aurora-windu @zachfoxx121 @pyxis-stellae @makeyourpeacenow @obsessedgremlin

You have to tell me if you want me to tag you for each update or else I won't know. Or if you wish to be removed.

[homocidal-invader]

Professor Membrane: Good or Bad Father?

I've decided to scientifically argue weather or not Professor Membrane from Invader Zim father of Dib Membrane and gasoline the other one by going through EVERY EPISODE of Invader Zim (that he appears in) and making a point counter of every good and bad action he does.

Episode 1 The Nightmare Begins Ignores Dib -1 point

Episode 2B NanoZim Just gives him the tiny ship when he needs help even though what he says is insane. Proffy doesn't even call him insane just tells him to run along + 1 point

Episode 3A Parent Teacher Night He tried to show up for the meeting,,, even if it resulted in the lab exploding. + 1 dad point - 1 scientist point

Episode 6B Battle Dib Didn't recognize his son - 1 point Too hard to contact - 1 point Gave Dib the permission slip + 1 point

Episode 8B Bad Bad Rubber Piggy MADE HIS SON INTO A COOL ASS BATTLE ROBOT TO PREVENT HIM FROM DYING + 1 point

10B Bloatys Pizza Hog Only one annual family night out - 1 point Lets Gaz choose wherever she wants + 1 point Made sure Dib also came + 1 point If Dib doesn't show up, he'll put it off for next year - 1 point 12B Game Slave 2 One of the best lines in the show + 1 point

13 Battle of the Planets Told his son aliens were fake and said he had a big head as a baby. The iconic line "my poor insane son" debuts this episode. - 1 point

14 Halloween Spectacular of Spooky Doom said "It was only a matter of time" for Dib going to HIS INSANE ASYLUM THAT HE OWNS. - 1 point Did not consider Dib's opinion for a second. - 1 point Sent Dib to the asylum. For the rest of his life. - 1 point And an extra bad point, because that's really bad, and the worst thing he's done in the show and what most people remember him for. - 1 point Another bad point for apparently experimenting on baby Dib so much he has subconscious trauma over it. - 1 point

15B Future Dib Neglects his children (hasn't shown up for weeks) - 1 point However he makes prerecorded messages for them so he's not totally abandoning them. + 1 point Inviting his kids to the infinite energy thingy. + 1 point Pat Gaz on the head + 1 point Noticed Dib was missing immedietely + 1 point He told Gaz to make sure Dib doesn't do anything embarrassing. - 1 point Waited for his kids despite jeers from the audience + 1 point DOESN'T GIVE EVERYONE PERPETUAL ENERGY BECAUSE THEY DISRESPECTED HIS KIDS + 1 dad point - 1 scientist point Membrane doesn't realize the robot dib is fake - 1 point

18B The Sad Sad Tale of Chickenfoot Invasion of privacy by letting randoms in the house. - 1 point Calls his son insane to everyone there. - 1 point Insisting what his son's future is as I'm assuming he does that a lot offscreen. - 1 point Not defending Dib when everyone starts laughing at him - 1 point

20 Tak The Hideous New Girl Trying to make friends with Dib's friend :) + 1 point

21 Backseat Drivers from Beyond the Stars Tells Gaz to be nice to his brother and helps her out with her problem. + 1 point Calls Dib insane behind his back - 1 point

23b Dibship Rising He LIED about the can of beans wiping out ALL HUMAN LIFE - 1 point?

25 Gaz Taster of Pork Always keeps the fridge stocked with good food + 1 point Stopped what he was doing immedietely to help Gaz with her problem + 1 point Put his kid on public TV without consent - 1 point Turned his kid into an experiment - 1 point Makes his children have to do an escape sequence at all - 1 point Apologizes + 1 point

27 The Most Horrible X-Mas Ever Trusted Dib with his anti-santa arsenal + 1 point

DELETED EPISODES!

Mopiness of Doom Listened to Dib + 1 point Told Dib to give up on his dreams - 1 point Very encouraging to Dib + 1 point Constantly checking in on Dib + 1 point Very tuned into Dib's emotions and be able to tell when something is bothering him + 1 point Professor Membrane's love is conditional - 1 point Complaining about Dib to Gaz - 1 point

10 Minutes to Doom Did not recognize his son - 1 point Did not want to get involved with Dib's fashion matters - 1 point Deciding to take a look anyways + 1 point Didn't to his son and now insisting that they have to stop him - 1 point

Day of Da Spookies Calls his son insane - 1 point Stopping work to help him anyways + 1 point

TOTAL SCORE

Good Points - 25 Bad Points - 30

ENTER THE FLORPUS

Making his kids a food robot + 1 point Waiting for Dib + 1 point Calling his son insane to Gaz - 1 point Telling Gaz to be supportive, even using metaphors + 1 point BEHOLD MY BOY CHILD + 1 point Mean to Dib about his interests - 1 point Arguing - 1 point Calling Dib's spaceship fake - 1 point Wishing isn't very scientific son - 1 point Patting his son on the head + 1 point Unprovoked calling Dib's ideas imaginary - 1 point Confirming he knows aliens exist, thus meaning that he's just saying they don't to be mean to his son specifically - 1 point Insisting it's a hallucinations so hard - 1 point Saying he'll always be proud of his son before he thinks he's going to die + 1 point Saved his son from a pit! + 1 point Helped fight off robots with Dib + 1 point Saying "great work honey" to Gaz + 1 point Using the moose without arguing + 1 point Pretending like all of it was a hallucination - 1 point Convincing everyone else it was a hallucination too - 1 point 10 Good point 10 Bad points

TOTAL SCORE

Good Points - 35 Bad Points - 40

RESULTS ARE IN!!!! Professor Membrane, SCIENTIFICALLY, is a BAD DADDYO!!!!!!

[cillianmesoftlyyy]

Moth to the Flame Pt. 4 | Dr. Crane x Reader

summary: Dr. Jonathan Crane isn't the only 'crazy' in Gotham City and he's about to meet his match. When confronted with an unpleasant secret from his past, he's skeptical to trust the strange young woman who calls herself Victoria Vale, the rightful heiress to Arkham Asylum (and maybe his downfall).

warnings: smut, aggressive sex, and choking.

Direction - Interpol 🎶

Lovers From the Past- Mareux 🎶

Something breaks inside you, like a rear window or an old family picture. Your breath slows and the night closes in on you, but it isn’t unpleasant, you find yourself welcoming it. Could this man who experienced such similar trauma to you, the man that has as much hate for Thomas Wayne as you, be the person that disarms you? Crane pulls back, looking down at you sprawled beneath him on your bed. Your eyes soften beneath his gaze and you trace his jaw with the pads of your fingers. Crane’s brow furrows slightly, caught off guard by this display of vulnerability from you. Vulnerability, not weakness, there’s a difference and even Crane can see that in the darkness stretched out between you. 

You pull his face down to yours and kiss him softer than you ever have before. Crane’s mind draws a blank for a moment as he feels your warm lips work against his with a gentleness that he doesn’t recognize from you, but damn it- he likes it. He removes his glasses and tosses them onto the nightstand and you groan softly against his sticky lips. Your hands run down his bare sides to his waistband. Your fingers rub against the slightly burned flesh on his hip and he winches, growling into your mouth. You smile proudly and keep moving your hands down into the lip of his pants. Crane bucks his hips up as he feels you undo his trousers and find his cock stuck in his boxers. As your hand moves up and down over his erection, Crane’s hands play softly with your skin, following the dips and curves of your body. He kisses the mounds of flesh that form your breasts, his teeth teasing the skin. 

“You can be rough with me, Crane. My body isn’t as fragile as you think it is. I can hold my own,” you whisper against his cheek, a groan of frustration escaping as you speak. Crane pulls his head back and smirks down at you, shaking his head. 

“Oh I know your body isn’t fragile, darling. I’ve never gotten so close to losing in a fight before…” he chuckles and runs his finger over your right eyebrow. You take his hand from your face and move it slowly to the junction of your thighs, resting his fingers where the waistband of your damp underwear began. 

“Then use it.” 

Crane raises his eyebrow at your tone and nods, as if he’d consider your proposition with little concern. But as his fingers touch the wet lips of your sex, his eyes cloud with desire and disbelief. His cock hardens in your other hand and he bucks against you again, his mind stuck on how wet you are. He looks down as his hand slips further into your underwear and he slides a free finger between your folds. He looks back up at you, his forehead creased as he plays with you like an experiment. Words escape him for once but you can understand what he wants by the way his mouth falls open and his cock warms in your grip. 

Crane lowers his lips to kiss you again, harder this time, with an animalistic urgency that you revel in. His breathing becomes shorter as his hands rip off your underwear and throw them somewhere in your bedroom. You push down his pants and he slips out of them, kicking off his shoes with the same quick motions. He immediately spreads your thighs and pulls them up around his hips, his erection already seeking entrance. When there are no more clothes between you, he pushes himself flush against you, his fingers digging into the pump flesh of your hips. Your fingers card through his hair and catch when he pushes into you roughly. You both tense as he enters and then both relax, taking a breath to make the intrusion easier for both of you. 

He can feel you relax around him and takes the opportunity to thrust further, hitting the base of your uterus. He growls and his biceps quiver from the shivers of pleasure rushing through his body. You throw your head back and grip his shoulders, pulling him closer, deeper. Crane pants deeply above you and moves faster, his thighs straining as he tries to go as deep as he possibly can, wanting to feel every inch of you. You grin, already overwhelmed with pleasure from the pace of his hips, but he’s going too fast and at this rate, you’ll finish in a minute. You roll him over and perch yourself on top. 

In a show of dominance, you press your hands against his smooth, sweaty chest and slow the pace. Crane groans at the change in pace and grips your hips, pulling you hard against his cock in an attempt at regaining some control. You allow Crane the shred of control he’s taken back from you but you also wrap your hand around his throat and lean closer to his face. 

“Tell me Dr. Crane, do you find this display of control just fascinating?”

“No, no, no. We’ll have none of that, Miss Vale,” Crane tuts at your teasing and thrusts up into you, smirking when you cry out. To get back at him, you lean down and lick the length of his jaw, whimpering dramatically into his ear. Your hand tightens around his throat as you nip his earlobe. 

“Are you trying to actually kill me?” His voice is deeper with your hand squeezing his throat like that. You loosen your fingers just slightly and rock back and forth on his cock faster, your mouth falling open against his cheek as you nod. Crane rolls his eyes and moves your hips for you, grinding you faster and prompting more breathless moans from your mouth. You sit back up and move your hand to rest on top of his, still gripping your hips. Your head falls back, your breasts pushing up as you groan in pleasure. You roll your hips and Crane curses beneath his breath, one of his hands dropping your hip to play with your breast, his palm teasing your hardened nipple. You take his other hand and slip two of his fingers into your mouth so you can suck them, soothing some of the displaced energy in your body. Crane arches his back, groaning loudly as he feels your tongue swirl erotically over his fingers. 

You ride him faster, harder, spurned on by the way his beautiful eyes roll back into his head. You drop his hands so you can lean over him, supporting yourself on your forearms on either side of his head. Crane bends his knees and grips your hips, taking the opportunity to thrust up into you. 

“I’m almost glad you won…” you whisper against his ear and Crane shivers. 

“Damn you, darling.” Crane slips one of his hands around the back of your neck, holding you flush against his chest. You’re gasping against his shoulder as he builds you up to a climax. As you feel the pressure build in your navel, teetering on the edge of an explosion, you bite down on his shoulder. 

“Come for me,” Crane grits his teeth and curses. 

“You first,” you growl back, stubbornly. Crane rolls his eyes and laughs breathlessly at your stubbornness. 

“You’re just making things harder for yourself. Just come for me, darling.”

 You raise your head and press the tip of your nose to Crane’s, determined now not to cum first. “Then make me, Crane.”

He meets your gaze and looks deep into your eyes. You’re such a defiant, stubborn, frustrating brat, but God he loves that and he loves the challenge you give him. 

“Oh, I’m going to”

He flips you over and grabs your jaw, clutching it between his fingers. He lets out a low chuckle and grips the headboard with his other hand. Your beautiful, defiant, infuriating face is close to his as he keeps you completely under his control. 

“Not so defiant now, are you, darling?”

“Oh shut up and fuck me,” you tangle your fingers in his hair and smile, tugging at the dark roots. 

“You’re such a brat,” he growls and tightens his grip on your jaw, subjecting you to the mercy of his thrusts as he moves again. You start to pant louder, so loud that you worry the neighbors will hear you through the thin plaster walls. Crane chuckles breathlessly between moans, “do you want the whole apartment complex hearing you, Miss Vale?” 

You don’t respond because being beneath his body weight, forced to feel the brunt of his thrusts, your climax hits you like a blinding wave of light. You take Crane’s throat and pull him closer, forcing him to make eye-contact with you as you cum. Your climax wracks your whole body, making you grab the base of the headboard for leverage as your body shakes and you cry out. Crane groans, looking at your face screwed up in what looks like pain, but you both know it’s pleasure. 

“Fuck…” Crane curses and feels himself cum, seizing his whole lower body. His eyes close in weak ecstasy until his hips slow and you ride out the pleasure of your combined climaxes. Sweat drips from his chest onto yours as you stare at each other in silent serenity. You reach his lips with yours and kiss him slowly, sporadically, distracted by the force of your heartbeats. You can feel his pounding against his chest as he comes down from his high, and the same is true for you.  

He no longer looks so frightening as he lies on top of your chest, his hair tousled from where you had pulled it. You stroke his hair, his cheek pressed against your breast. 

“I have to say that I’m impressed, Crane,” you whisper with a content smile. 

“Mmm? Impressed by what exactly?” Crane murmurs against your breast, kissing your nipple. 

“How quickly you found me. I knew you’d probably find me but I definitely had to put up a fight. I think I’m officially glad that you won…” 

He lifts his head off your neck and looks down at you with a smirk, “You are a challenge, Miss Vale, but that makes it even more satisfying when I won, though you put up one hell of a fucking fight, jesus.” 

“But you liked it, didn’t you?” You smile, running your hands over his cheeks up to his ears. Crane catches your hands and holds them away, his eyes shining. 

“Yes… but you seem to forget- I will always win.” He mutters as he raises himself up onto his forearms over you, smiling. 

“Mmm no,” you answer, rubbing your nose against his with a sly smile, “you and I will always tie. We’re too similar.” 

Crane huffs and shakes his head, “it’ll be a cold day in hell when you win against me. I am very dedicated to getting what I deserve.”

“Maybe I just need to raise the stakes. I haven’t shown you all my tricks,” you shrug and play with his dark hair, unphased by his dark teasing. 

“Neither have I, though I’d like to hear more about these tricks of yours… and what better time than now, when I have you pinned down in such a pretty position…” he whispers down against your lips. You laugh as he trails his lips down your neck, tickling you gently. He inhales deeply against the crook of your neck and pulls back. 

“You know what I love more than anything?”

“What?” You ask, trailing your pointer finger down the curve of his dark brow. 

“That now you’re mine. As much as you may try to deny it, you’ll always come back to me.”

“Don’t let it get to your head, Crane.” You smile and trails your hands down his pale neck, brushing your nails against his collarbones. 

“Too late…” he whispers and kisses you briefly. “You’re stuck with me now.” 

“Yes sir, whatever you say sir,” you respond drolly and roll your pretty eyes. 

“You’re infuriating,” he groans and shakes his head. 

“Don’t pretend it doesn’t turn you on just to hear me call you ‘sir.’ I bet you love it when your pretty little students do it, don’t you?” You tease as you pull him closer once again, nibbling on his ear as you whisper. Crane laughs and wraps his fingers around your throat, holding you in place gently. 

“My students call me ‘sir’ every day. Why do you think you’ll get that kind of reaction out of me, Miss Vale?” 

“Because none of your students know who you really are. I know what you want sir,” you emphasize the word ‘sir,’ “I know what you crave because I crave it too.” 

Crane lets out a huff and grips your neck tighter, angling your head back so he can whisper against the point of your chin. 

“You, Miss Vale, are my darkest desire. I crave you in ways you could never understand, and that infuriates me more than anything else in this world. And you insist on furtherly pissing me off, don’t you, darling?”

You nod and bite your lip, already getting turned on yet again, your thighs growing warmer. Crane look over your face and his eyes rest on your lip caught between your teeth and closes his eyes before looking away. 

“Do me a favor. Don’t bite your lip like that,” he mutters. 

You release your lip with a pop and raise your eyebrow, “why?” You run your tongue between your lips, wetting them from where they’d gone dry from kissing him. 

“When you bite your lip like that, all I can think about is biting it for you… maybe leave a few extra marks in other places.” He trails his eyes down your body beneath him, imagining himself sinking his teeth into the soft places of your body. 

“If you get to mark me then I get to mark you. Fair’s fair.” You move your hand to touch his hip where you’d burned him. 

“Now that’s not fair,” Crane interjects, tutting, “you burned me first, remember darling? So if you got to mark me…” Quickly he drops your throat and takes your thighs, spreading them and pulling you down the bed. 

You gasp before finding the words to respond, “then what?” 

“Then I’m going to mark you, Miss Vale. I’m going to have fun with it too.” 

“How…primal of you,” you whisper and shift your hips, feeling the pressure build between your thighs. 

“Oh darling, you don’t even know the half of it. I fully intend on being savage with you tonight,” he strokes your face, smirking, “we both know that you can handle it.” 

“Do what you wish, Crane. Victor gets the spoils…” you remind him, your breath short as you look up at his pale face distorted in the dark into a mask. 

You see a new version of Crane emerge as he lowers his head to your neck, sucking roughly on your skin until you could feel the blood vessels crackle beneath the surface. You moan from the roughness of his actions, your sex getting wetter. His hand slides up to grasp your throat again, his warm fingers squeezing only slightly as his teeth scrape against you. 

“Beg for it,” Crane whispers in a strained voice against your ear, his hips settling against yours. 

“Crane, please, please Dr. Crane…” You whimper sarcastically, smiling as his fingers tighten around your throat and his cock lies warm against your stomach. Crane huffs and rolls his eyes. He angles his face just above yours, his lips curved in a look of patient warning. 

“Try again, my little brat, and this time make it more persuasive.  Say my name, and say please, and do it more sincerely.”

You take a breath and wiggle against his hold until you can get comfortable. Finally, with a small smile, you do as he asks. “Please, Dr. Crane. Ever since I saw your lecture on phobias… I’ve wanted you. I don’t just want you to fuck me… I want you to hurt me… I want you to take everything from me… because you’re like me. I trust you to hurt me as much as you want to. I need you…”

“Mmm,” Crane pretends to think it over and nods slowly, “better but it’s not enough, not after you treated me earlier this evening. Beg.” His voice is a command now and you gasp softly, feeling his free hand drift between your thighs. 

“Beg.”

Crane whispers again against your ear and exhales, shifting strands of your hair from your face. His hand runs up and down the inside of your thigh as he drops his mouth down to your shoulder, leaving a painful hickey in a prominent position. You whimper and moan, words stuck in your throat as your hands feel over his body, his arms, his shoulders. 

“Beg, darling.” He says again, losing some of his patience. You gasp and shake your head, your fingers gripping his shoulders.  

“I’m already begging, doc. Jesus just rip me apart.”

“Mm that works,” Crane shrugs with a smirk and aligns himself with your sex, pushing in fast. He slips easily inside now and he curses loudly from how wet you still are. He holds your hips down and moves his hips deeply, hitting your hips every time with his. He pulls one of your thighs around his lower back and settles as closely as he can against your pelvis until you cry out in pain. His hand around your throat strokes your skin as he smiles down at you, proud. 

“I have all the time in the world to figure you out now. I’ll find what makes you tick, and more importantly, what makes you cum,” Crane growls with a sick smile and moves faster. Your eyes roll into the back of your head and your scratch your nails down his back, overcome by both overstimulation and pleasure. 

“Look at you, pet. Oh that’s it, darling, give it up. You’re so close to feeling everything that I’m going to give you. Damn, you’re already so fucking close, aren’t you?” He teases, his face set in a sneer. 

“Crane…” you whisper, your eyes squeezed shut now as you feel yourself already starting to cum again. He groans as he feels you tighten around his cock, prompting his second climax of the night. As he cums, you feel your orgasm wash over you, your back arching and your fingers drawing blood on Crane’s back. 

“Fuck, you’re so beautiful when you give into me…” he sighs and strokes your face with his palm, his chest heaving. 

“Don’t get used to it,” you pant and swipe his hand away from your face, smiling. 

Crane laughs and watches you as you try to catch your breath below him. He notices how you don’t try to move or change positions, and your thighs are still shaking from the aftershocks of your orgasm. 

“You can’t move now, can you? You’re too weak…” he smiles and kisses your neck. 

“Just give me a few minutes and I’ll be able to kick your ass again.” You laugh breathlessly and pull his mouth to yours to kiss him. He kisses you back and pulls out, lying beside you and wrapping his arm around your side. He traces the curves of your body with his palm, smiling against your mouth. 

“God, darling, a minute ago you were begging me to ruin you. Now you think you’ll be fine in a few minutes? Look at you, you can barely move right now. I think I did a damn good job, don’t you?”

“I’m never going to live that down will I?” You roll your eyes and bite his lip gently, playfully. Crane shakes his head and kisses you again, biting your lip back. “I like this side of you.” You pull Crane closer so that you can feel his bare chest against yours. 

“Of course you do. You like whatever version of me that takes you and breaks you. You’re such an easy little pet to figure out, darling…”

“I keep forgetting you’re a shrink…” you groan and push him away playfully. Crane kisses your neck instead, his lips barely touching your skin. He smiles and chuckles. 

“It’s part of my job, darling. I take apart the minds of the most deranged criminals of Gotham. You think I can’t solve you, too?”

“I let you get into my head.”

“You let me get into a lot more than that, Miss Vale.”

“Well soon it will be my turn to return the favor.”

“You’re going to figure me out the way I figured you out? Seems a bit arrogant, darling…”

“I found you first, didn’t I?” You smile. 

“That’s true. Finding me doesn’t mean you’ve figured me out, though, does it?”

“No, but I think I just about have anyway. Maybe I’ll tell you what I’ve learned one day.” 

Crane perks up, his eyebrows raised, “Maybe I don’t want to wait until another day to hear what you think you’ve figured out. That’s just too much for a man like me to handle.”

“You need to learn how to handle disappointment,” you respond coolly and kiss his cheek. Crane laughs and takes your wrists, holding them against the headboard. “Don’t be a brat, darling. Just tell me. Tell me what you think you’ve figured out about me. I’m dying to know.”

-------------------------------------------------------------------------

@m0thh3ad @sl-newsie @strangeobsessed @cillamity

[honeydewandcake]

I got ideas for other toons for Asylum Au

(Dandy's notes about Vee and Tisha)

Cosmo — It is possible that he could have had severe burns over most of his body due to the fire, where his arms in particular would have suffered burn damage. He would have a fear of fire and anything that could cause its effects. He would have had a good relationship with Sprout, since Sprout, in addition to treating him well, sometimes treated him with all sorts of sweets like cookies or muffins.

Glisten — possibly dysmorphophobia syndrome, considering himself ugly because of his shortcomings in appearance as he believed, tried to correct them, as a result he only worsened himself and because of this he began to try to correct it even more by causing harm to himself, but the medical staff did not allow him to do this (possibly depression and self-hatred)

Brightney — Perhaps she would be terribly afraid of the dark because of her trauma associated with it.

(I don’t know for sure about Roger, most likely he will have a problem with his head, due to the fact that he has visions of his past “family”, which he supposedly “killed”, and now because of this he wants to commit suicide and is trying cutting himself, the only thing stopping him is the medical staff and Toodles)

OH MY GOODNESS TISHA VEE NOOO!!!!!!

I actually have thought about things for Cosmo and Brightney, though I never added it to the post

Cosmo has an overeating disorder/addiction to capsules/pills. Capsules in Dandy's Care are like pills but they're chewy, have flavor, and are nutrious. All toons eat them but Cosmo is pretty much addicted to it. He's forced to have a regulated diet but sometimes he sneaks into the storage room to eat more capsules

Brightney's lightbulb is fizzling out, which is akin to losing your vision. She can't get another bulb because her switch is broken, so she carries a lamp to see (similar to carrying like an IV stand).

I do enjoy the idea for Glisten. Maybe he has truama based around his looks and things.

[gobblinggojo]

Fortnight

Yuta Okkotsu x Reader

Warnings: Lyrics used at some point, Angst, Cursing, Reader is described gender-neutral,, Reader was sent to a mental asylum by their parents due to their cursed energy which has caused trauma, Past-trauma mentioned, Manga chapter 261 Spoilers, Blood and death mentioned.

ੈ✩‧₊ The Tortured Poets Department Masterlist˚⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

“I touched you,

For only a fortnight

(I touched you)

But I touched you.” 

This was not how any of it was supposed to go. When you first came to Tokyo Jujutsu High, as a first year, you were welcomed with warm, open arms. A complete and utter drastic difference from your home life. 

As a child, you always knew that you were different, You could always see the monsters that your family could not see. For as long as you can remember, you can always remember waking up to the monster in your closet, only to be shaken off by your mother and father as it just being your imagination. You remember distinctly the sounds of your cries as you wailed for your mama and papa to save you. The very same cries you were letting out at this very moment, hoping–praying for Yuta to be okay. 

Too many people in your life have either left, or been killed due to the agonizing evil in this world. Nobara, Nanami, Gojo-Sensei, …Megumi. So many you have loved and cherished as if they were your very own family. 

From the very first moment you were abandoned by your mother and father at the age of ten in that wretched asylum, you knew that you had absolutely nobody. You could still remember the numerous tests and the various blood-work and psychiatric treatment you were put through. The shock therapy, the injections, so much trauma that you, as a child, had to endure. 

When Gojo-Sensei came, a boy with midnight black hair by his side, you had finally been saved–seen, and saved. 

“You–Y/n, have a gift. And I promise you, that with my guidance, and the love of your peers, you are going to be just fine. ‘Kay?” 

Gojo-Sensei’s words are often replayed over and over again in your head throughout the few short years you have been at Jujutsu High. You felt comfort in them, because in all honesty, Gojo-Sensei was right. With his guidance, and the love you often felt from your peers, you were okay. You were perfectly, and utterly fine. 

Truly, everything was going so, so amazing in your life. 

So, why did it all have to change now? 

“I wanna kill him..” 

Your words came out in strained sobs as you sat at the medical bedside of Yuta Okkotsu. Shoko stood right above him, scalpel in hand as she worked ever-so-carefully as she removed Yuta;s brain from his head. By his left side, Gojo-Sensei lay, head cut right open, and brain gone.

Even in death, Gojo-Sensei was nothing but a puppet for the jujutsu world. 

And so was Yuta. Your Yuta. 

“I think we all want to kill him, Y/n,” Shoko’s voice was soft as she spoke, continuing her diligent work of art as she wiped a bit of blood away from dripping down Yuta’s head. 

The male lay unconscious by you, hand loosely in your own grasp as he lay limp, awaiting to use Kenjaku’s cursed technique inside of Gojo-Sensei in order to stop the raging battle between Sukuna and the Jujutsu world. 

“He has taken everything away, Shoko…Nobara, Megumi…Gojo-Sensei…My Yuta..” Tears began to well up once more, slowly dripping down your face as you stared sadly at what was becoming of your lover. 

Shoko pressed her lips together in a frown, her gloved hands carefully continuing to cut open Yuta’s head to get to his brain. Her brown eyes moved at one point, gazing right at you with a look of complete and utter pity. “I know, Y/n.” 

It was silent for a few more minutes as Shoko carefully extracted Yuta’s brain from his head. It made you completely and utterly sick; seeing your lover there in that state. You wanted to throw up as you watched Shoko set his brain down on a medical table before she turned towards Gojo’s own body, beginning to prepare it for Yuta’s brain. 

“Yuta and I were only together for two weeks, Shoko….He called it a fortnight..” You chuckled sadly, remembering Yuta as he spoke to Gojo-Sensei with such excitement when Gojo-Sensei had returned.

“I finally worked up the courage to ask Y/n to be mine, Gojo-Sensei..” His shy smile, accompanied by that little blush of his as he scratched the back of his neck warmed your heart. 

“No kidding! Look at you Okkotsu, finally taking what's yours!” Gojo’s voice boomed loudly as he chuckled at his students' pride. “How long have ya been together? Don’t tell me I’ve missed a whole year!” 

“We’ve been together for a fortnight..” 

Shoko let out a sad chuckle, moving her head to gaze at you as she smiled pitifully once more. “Gojo always knew that something would happen between you and Okkotsu..” You watched as hands covered in latex carefully grabbed the bloodied organ off of the medical table. Shoko turned her back away, carefully placing Yuta’s brain inside of Gojo’s head, before she began to get to work stitching up the puppet. 

“...Will Yuta come back?” Your voice shook as you asked the dreaded question that you already knew the answer to. There was no way that Yuta would be coming back. He only had five whole minutes before the cursed energy would leave him, leaving both himself, and Gojo-Sensei dead. 

“I don’t think he will come back, Y/n.”

Shoko’s words were straight to the point, not wanting to lie to you and get your hopes up. However, you wished that she would have lied to you. The feeling of your heart sinking deeper into your chest hurts. It hurts so bad. 

You could feel the salty trail of tears slowly drip down your face, falling right onto Yuta’s hand that you held as you stared hopelessly at the love of your life. 

“I touched him for only a fortnight, Shoko…How is that fair?” You cried out, moving to stand up as you let go of Yuta’s hand. Your face was red as you wiped furiously at the tears that continued to come out of your face. “How is that fair?!” Your voice cried as you screamed in Shoko’s direction, heart beating quickly as you wiped Yuta’s blood off of his face. 

No reply. Shoko stayed silent as she continued to work on stitching up Gojo, her brows knitted together as she completely shook off your breakdown.

And I love you.

It’s ruining my life.

I love you, it's ruining my life. 

I touched you.

For only a fortnight.

I touched you.

But I touched you. 

Those words replayed over and over again inside of your head, like a mantra that you had known forever. Tears continued to crash down as you turned, rushing out of the medical room as you cried. Cried for your parents, cried for Gojo-Sensei, for Nobara, for Megumi…but most of all, for the loss of your lover–Yuta. 

This just was not fair, nothing was fair. 

Your eyes roamed the destruction outside of the medical room; sobs continued to escape your lips as you looked for at least a place to sit and calm yourself. None of this was fair. 

You continued to walk around the destroyed property of Jujutsu high, face red, eyes burning as you continued to cry, and, and cry. 

“It’s not fair..” You spoke to no one in particular as you fell to your knees under one of the many trees outside; one of the few that was not destroyed during Sukuna’s rampage. Your heart continued to beat, soft sobs leaving your lips as you stared down at the ground, hands gripping the ends of your uniform as you cried.

“Gojo-Sensei–” You cried out the name of your teacher as you looked up to the sky, eyes narrowed as if you were trying to curse your deceased instructor with just a look into the sky. “You should have just kept me there–at the asylum. I never wanted to ever get this attached to anybody again..Nobody.” You let out another pitiful sob as you wiped helplessly at your eyes, trying so hard to get rid of the oncoming rush of tears that just would not stop. 

“I want to kill him so bad..” Your bottom lip trembled as you let your hands drop to your lap, sobbing once more as you slammed your head back into the trunk of the tree. 

“Loving Yuta was the worst decision of my life…Loving you is ruining my life, Yuta!” You screamed up to the sky, face beet red as you continued to scream and cry at the realization that you truly lost the love of your life forever. 

There was absolutely nothing that Yuta could do to fix this–to come back and continue to love and protect you. 

His arms encircled your waist as he held you close in the vision of your memory; his warm breath tickling your neck as he pressed a kiss to it. “I’m so happy I finally have you now, Y/n..” He let out a shy chuckle. 

“I’m happy we both just finally found the courage to confess…I really missed you while you were gone, Yuta..” You let out a breathless giggle as he pressed another kiss to your neck, before moving to press one to your cheek, then your forehead–and finally your lips. 

“You have no idea how happy you make me..” 

“I feel like I finally have someone to live for.”

“I love you, Y/n.”

“I will never, ever leave you in this cursed world. I will forever protect you, okay?” 

I love you…

I love you..

I love you.

Yuta Okkotsu, forever loving you is ruining my life. 

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@athensflower

@blendingcaramal

[fivewantscoffee]

So, Five x Lila. I need to get this out of my system so I can maybe finally move on:

I don't like the ship.

I don't like the characters together. I find the pairing a baffling one, and I don't like what it does to the show (and characters) either.

First of all, that wasn't Lila. I don't know who it was, but it wasn't the woman we saw off at the end of S3, or even the one we started off S4 with.

It just wasn't her.

You can blame trauma, or six years of being on the move. That's going to change a person, for sure, but this wasn't about giving Lila any character development.

It was about giving Five a love interest.

Because that life? Yeah. I could see it for Five. I could see him deciding to settle down and take life slow, I could see him being sweet and domestic with a partner should he have one. After he's had some time to heal, now that he's finally free of the apocalypse, I could see that for Five.

But Lila? She was unhappy in her marriage, at least partly because the domestic, stay-at-home-mum life has proven to be something that doesn't fulfil her. She wants more out of life, which is why "bookclub" happened, which is why she ended up in the subway with Five in the first place.

And okay. For the sake of argument, let's go with this. Let's say Five x Lila happened so they could cope with their situation. It was survival, like Lila said. If we were going to have to endure this bad, messy plot point anyway, (which we didn't, we really, really didn't), it should at least have been treated with the seriousness it deserves.

Because, Five? The complete, callous lack of remorse on his part? What the fuck was that?

Even if you pick through the crumbs and try to make it make sense, this wasn't a romance. At best it was survival, and coping, and kind of a tragedy all at once. Five shouldn't be picking fights with Diego. He shouldn't be acting like a spurned twenty-something-year-old.

And yeah, characters can be flawed and in the wrong, but why like this? This didn't feel like Five to me. He is brusque and, when looked at it from a certain angle, I can see why some would call him selfish (which I don't necessarily agree with, but that's a different conversation), but under all his layers, he does love his family. To me, that's the core of his character and has been since S1. Everything he's done, he's done to ensure their survival, then when he agreed to give up in S3, he was content to simply die by their sides.

So, you're telling that this Five, the one we've known and followed for three seasons, had a fling with Lila and didn't even feel guilty or conflicted about it? You're telling me loved this woman, yet was willing to keep her from her family, her children?

"Five is selfish" "Five is tired" "Five is finally moving on"

No. Not like that. To me, the Five from previous seasons (S2 specifically, because that's where a lot of it goes wrong) is only "selfish" in that he wants his family to survive and is willing to go to any lengths to achieve that. He's not exactly compassionate about Allison and Viktor having to leave Ray and Sissy behind. And yeah, he leaves Diego in the asylum because he doesn't want him messing with the timeline.

Is he in the wrong for that? Answer this any way you want, but I don't think it matters to Five. Does he want his siblings to be happy? In my opinion, of course he does, but they're not going to be happy if they're dead.

That's not the same as what S4 does. Not by a long shot. Five cares deeply about those he loves, and granted, he is pretty bad at showing it, but he does care.

He nearly worked himself into the grave trying to solve the first two apocalypses, with little regard for his own well-being. When he realised a third apocalypse was happening, he didn't say fuck it and continue his Pennsylvania retirement road trip... he immediately dropped everything to try and fix it.

So how did we get to S4 Five, who got with his brother's wife, found a way home, didn't tell Lila, AND THEN, after he finally gave her the notebook and they went back, he acts like that?

Yeah, no. That's not my Five.

Also, five x lila happening isn't Five moving on. If anything, it's how he copes with the situation they're in. That's just his Delores 2.0.

Anyway, all of this is moot because the fact of the matter is, they chose to make this happen. Five and Lila getting stuck in the subway together for seven years didn't have to happen.

I don't know.

This used to be a show about family. It also used to be a show about the effects of child abuse on this group of siblings. This started to fall to the wayside after S1, but the family aspect of it still remained.

At its core, tua has always been about family, so what was the point of making S4 at all if this is what they were going to give us?

It's not just Five x Lila. They messed this up across the board, with how flippantly the absence of Sloane and Ray was treated, how shallow and surface-level all of the rest was. They gave us some crumbs with Klaus and Allison, but they couldn't even do that without retconning their entire relationship. That's not even mentioning the ending. The Hargreeves all sacrificing themselves in the end could have worked, but this was not the way to do it.

Anyway, this rant is over. S1 Five, you'll always be famous to me.