#the utter disconnect. from being human.

[protagonistscum]

okay when it comes hazbin's version of hell

i can't described how pissed i would with any demon form. where eventually you'll have spent more time as your demon self than your human form. the slowly growing disconnect of who you were in life and who you are now in death. forever. until you dealt your final death. as your soul dissipates into the surroundings.

death is just another form rebirth, framed as your eternal punishment. how long until life as a human is nothing more than faint dream? how long until you're comfortable in your new form? is this the acceptance of your death? acceptance of your new life? acceptance that this is now your forever?

[bummblebe]

Adorable Too

TfP Bumblebee x Reader

Word Count: 1,783

Summary: You're all too infatuated with a certain yellow mech, much to his initial confusion to your change in attitude.

Song choices <3

> Fool - Frankie Cosmos

> Glue Song - Beabadoobee

You weren't sure how long exactly you had these feelings for, but after discovering them as of recent, they've never left your mind since.

You can only pray that your revelation of admiration to a specific scout hasn't resulted in any noticeable changes in your behavior. Once you came to the conclusion (after catching yourself shamelessly fawning over him in silence during a most recent mission), like a hopeless coward you did.. absolutely nothing about it. You considered limiting visits to the base to lessen the chances of making a fool of yourself, but that might've looked more suspicious if anything.

So, here you are, at the autobot base trying desperately too hard to push down the feelings and pretend that you didn't discover anything major about yourself in the past few days.

It was proving very difficult with Bumblebee standing right behind the designated human-sized couch you, Raf, and Miko were all sitting on, the other two competing against each other in some racing game and completely oblivious to your internal battle. Their game was the last thing you could pay attention to; his presence being right there had you feel like your back was on fire, any sitting position you readjusted to never felt comfortable enough for longer than ten seconds, a lingering sense of uncomfortable insecurity engulfed your every move as you couldn't help but constantly think of the possibility of him just perceiving you. Crazy to think that a couple days ago you never would've thought twice about minute things like where your hands should be resting, whether your hair was in the way or a mess, or both. What's the battle, the struggle, one might ask? It's being on a couch.

You've never had an issue sitting on a couch before--you would swear on it, ..right now just wasn't a great example of that.

After realizing that maybe your sitting is a little too rigid for what's meant to be and is a casual hangout between friends, you silently take a breath and slowly but surely start to lean back to meet with the comfortable plush of the couch.

Though, rather than being met with the couch, instead your back made contact with the scout's servos.

Instantly, as if a shock was sent throughout your body, you flinched forward in surprise, disconnecting the contact immediately. You noticed the spot on your back that unintentionally touched his hand felt the hottest, almost as if it were a burn; nothing bad, just in the sense of an overwhelming warmth. 

A whir in the tone of a question sounded from the scout behind you, and in quick thinking you tried to play off your unexpected reaction in a continued swing to hoist yourself up from the couch. Reaching your hands above your head, you gave out the pressure in your lower back in a satisfying stretch, not realizing the words he was saying.

"Uh- ..Sorry about that, Bee. Didn't mean to bump you," you spoke apologetically, turning your face so that he wouldn't just be looking at your back, but you couldn't get your eyes to leave the railing to properly make eye contact.

Bee responded with affirmative albeit hesitant beeps.

That seemed to have done the trick.

Without removing her eyes from the screen, Miko tilted her head towards you. "Where ya headed off to?"

Quick, come up with something.

"Oh, you know.. 'just going to go get something from.. from our pantry real quick yeah- you guys want me to get you anything while I'm there?"

"Nah, 'm good thanks," Miko uttered, clearly preoccupied.

Nailed it.

"Raf?" You queried next. Unlike Miko, Raf actually looked at you to answer your offer. "Oh, I'm alright [Name], thank you." You smiled and with that, turned to the descending ladder (and judging from the groan of frustration paired alongside an exclamation of victory from behind you, Raf's politeness appeared to be his detriment in-game). Just as you were about to turn your body to climb down, a few familiar beeps stopped you. Looking up, Bumblebee stood right in front of you, in front of the ladder, with his head tilt to the side.

The only words you were able to pick up on were '-want.. ... help you?'

Judging by his now outstretched metallic palm just below you, you filled in the rest that he just offered to take you to the bottom of the ladder himself. 'Do you want me to help you?' it was probably was.

This was nothing out of the ordinary, he's done this for you many times before. The problem came from you not knowing how to properly act anymore. Any other day you would've gladly accepted without thinking twice about it, and right now is mostly the same, except now you're thinking too much about it.

You nodded your head, “Oh sure, thanks Bee. I’d love for you to help me.” 

Bee, though with no visible mouth, gave a smile evident through his bright optics as he cooed a few excited chirps and beeps, you stepping off the platform and now in his clutches. 

You looked up, returning an innocent smile towards him.

Looks will forever be deceiving because internally you were in a panic.

Why did you say ‘love?’ You’d love for him to help you? How obvious can you be? You kept your eyes closed, not daring to look at him as you basked in your inner embarrassment.

You felt the small rush in your stomach as Bumblebee leisurely descended his hand down upon the lower ground as gently as he could. Stepping off, you shot Bee a thumbs up and quickly trodded off to the small room directly underneath the upper landing that you and your fellow humans deemed the 'pantry,' a place where you four kept a stash of snacks and drinks. It was the only remaining human-sized room (more like closet) that wasn't being used so why not make it a snack hole? Truly, it started with Miko keeping her snacks there 'temporarily' (as she swore) but it soon escalated to you, Jack, and occasionally Raf contributing to the snack haven; now the four of you have sustenance at your disposal whenever any of you visited the base.

Even with all that, upon entering you nearly forgot that you lied to get here so you could avoid an awkward situation and you were stumped on what to actually bring back.

...

"What's the matter Bee?"

The mech looked up to face Rafael, apparently during a game intermission as Miko was checking something on her flip phone. After hearing the question though, she looked up, all too interested. "Why're you asking? Did Bumblebee say something?" Raf only shook his head, "No it's not about anything he said I just thought he--..well--are you feeling down, Bee?" He redirected his attention back to the scout.

Bumblebee shook his helm, waving his servos in front of him. Beeps and churs left his chassis in a series pertaining to an explanation.

"What about [Name]..?"

Miko scrambled on her knees, fully on the couch as she faced the yellow bot with intrigue. "What's it Raf?" she questioned in ardor. "Bee's just a little worried about [Name]," Raf translated. Miko frowned, "How come? They seemed alright to me?"

A continued stream of robotic whirs and boops left Bee with different dips in tones natural of someone speaking, even if unconventionally.

"So? What's he saying?" Miko asked in loud, exaggerated whisper.

Raf, in response to Bee, tilted his head, "Different how?"

"Beep, beep zip. Zrr beep kr."

"Really? I guess that's a little weird.. Think they're feeling okay?"

Miko bounced in her spot on the couch impatiently, "Hello? Gonna fill me in yet?"

Raf gave an exhausted sigh. "Bee just noticed that [Name] seemed really dismissive of him today is all."

Miko rolled her eyes and whisked her body around, slumping in the couch and returning her attention back to her flip phone. "Eh, I wouldn't dwell."

"How are you so confident?" Raf asked, curious at how quick the girl just dismissed the concern.

Miko tilted her head towards him, "Come on, there's no way they hate Bee or anything."

At this, Bumblebee's optics swirled for a good few seconds. Realization hit when he gave a few worried beeps, looking away from the two other humans in disquiet. Raf was about to give comfort to the distressed mech. "In case they think you're annoying or something just be extra nice to them! That'll help," Miko advised wisely. Raf winced at her choice of wording. "I really don't think that's all too necessary.. especially considering-"

Bee was quick to intercept and hastily utter determined whirs and beeps in response.

Suddenly, you emerged from underneath the main platform, head peaking out after climbing the ladder, not having been paying any attention to the conversation that had just ended. You huffed yourself over the edge, arms hoisting towards the platform, still below the upper-ground level. In your hands was a pack of honey-graham crackers.

Honey --> ....bee..

Ah. You winced at the unintentional yet reaching similarity to who's been on your mind all day.

At least it wasn't that obvious. Hopefully.

A few beeps from behind you entered your ears and before you could even register what they meant, you were gently lifted off of the ladder and quickly placed fully on the grounding. You continued to stand there, snack still in your hand, as you slowly turned your head to face the yellow mech. "Thanks- thanks Bee but uh- uhm.. what was that for?" You cursed yourself for the stuttering, begging that your red face wasn't as noticeable as you're imagining it is to be.

He only responded with a few of those charming sound signals of his, optics spiraling as he did, to which you couldn't stop the smile creeping up to your face. From the sidelines, Raf and Miko exchanged unknowing glances, the first shrugging his shoulders in uncertainty towards the other.

You shook your head and swiftly returned to your spot on the couch. You sighed. "Adorable..," giving the quietest of mutters as it was drowned out by your expertly timed opening of your retrieved snack.

Or so you thought.

Bee's optics gave a spin, the teal lights from his eyes dilating.

After a few seconds of shocked silence, he chirped out six excited beeps, and Raf nearly stumbled in the resumed video game (much to his dismay and probably to Miko's pleasure.

You also nearly choked mid-chewing, face growing hotter as your heartbeat intercepted within your eardrum.

The only words you were able to pick up from him were 'adorable too.'

End Notes: Fact about this one-shot: When the reader accidentally bumped Bee on the couch, his hand was actually purposefully reaching for their hair to try to help pushing it aside because he wanted the reader to be comfortable after he noticed they kept shifting so much. I think it's sweet!

[sinnerandafool]

Just watched the newest pod watcher episode. They finally feel like they’ve gotten to a place where they can talk about the “Incident” (as they put it) after almost a year of not saying much. That kind of just goes to show you that they’re just humans trying to grapple with the infinite-headed hydra of an online audience. Nothing they do will ever please everyone, so they took as much time as they could to come to a place where they had processed their personal feelings and then ran it through a filter of what they imagine those fans who were the most angry about the streamer announcement would want to hear. And to me that’s a super mature and wise response to the utter insanity of what April must have been like for them.

Like, truly, this whole year must have been so tricky. If I was in their shoes I would not have had the self control to keep my mouth shut when people were commenting such nasty things. But it seems the lesson learned from their relatively quick apology video was that trying to explain or defend yourself against a vast and sometimes irrational barrage of criticism just doesn’t work. Especially against the irrational parts of it.

It’s okay to let yourself breathe, let others around you breathe and take your time to respond to something, whether you’re in conflict with one person or one hundred thousand people. If anything allowing that time will just weed out the people who don’t actually care about you and are only there for the high of confrontation. Everything moves so incomprehensibly fast online these days, but humans can’t always process complex emotions or make informed statements without taking some time.

But the Watcher founders couldn’t just disconnect from their audience and ruminate on things. They had to continue to try and hold the connection with us despite this huge awkward Incident hanging around in the air like smog. Hurt feelings on both sides and no responsible outlet to talk about it. Until now, when some people might (incorrectly) say it’s too late.

It resonated with me when they mentioned they’re not really super online. That they’re getting elderly. Because that’s how I feel as I watch micro-trends circulate and circle the drain, drama channels make two hour long exposes about creators I’ve never heard of, and people commenting that three days is too long of a time to go without addressing a controversy. I could never ever do what Watcher does, using something as fickle and slick as the internet to support myself financially, but I think the way they are trying to do it is admirable. They slow it down, give us a very “them” version of being an internet content creator. They stay doing what they love at a pace that feels right for them. And I love it.

I’ll always be Watching. 🩶

[avatarloverfrfr]

Dreamwalker Siblings

Chapter II: Uniltirantokx Tsmuktu. Previous Chapter Masterlist Summary: Y/n and Jake Sully. Siblings, shipped off into the depths of space to explore the mysterious world of Pandora. Warnings: Constant mentions of headaches. Mention of needles. Word count: 2,01k

Opening my eyes, expecting to find myself in the windowless compound I had confined my body the day before, I'm met with the sight of sunlight beaming through multiple windows. Frantically glancing down, I discover my hands still tinged with the same blue hue as my Avatar from the previous day, moving my hands around in disbelief.

Suddenly hit with the same pain I had the previous day, but this time the feeling tenfold worse. My hands instinctively reach to cradle my head, as if my hands were protecting my head from whatever pain was causing my head to ache.

This can't be happening! I was suppose to disconnect from this body. Thoughts started to race through my mind, while my brain simply couldn't catch up before being hit with another wave of pain.

As I stagger out of bed, a wave of agony crashes over me, each pulse feeling like a bullet piercing my skull. Struggling to maintain balance, I attempt to walk, but with each step, the pressure in my head intensifies. Collapsing onto the bed I had just vacated, I cling to it for support.

Looking around the other Avatar beds, I note that Norm, Grace and Jake had all left to go do something requiring the use of their Avatar bodies, leaving me alone in the compound. Using all my remaining strength, I decided to go to the one person who I know could possibly help, Max.

Approaching Max, he seems to already be expecting me, turning around with a smile on his face. "You seemed to have a early start of your day, already in your Avatar body so early. Grace, Norm and Jake went out to the forest, they'll be back in a few hours." he says, smiling up at me, but faltering as he realises the look on my face.

"Max, I didn't delink." I say weakly, looking down at him.

"What? No, that's impossible." he says smile now fully replaced with a serious look and calls over the other scientists and doctors in the bio-lab.

Multiple doctors and scientists walk up to me and help me get on a gurney set up. "Don't worry Y/n. We just need to run a couple of tests." Max says, trying to reassure me.

Hours pass, and seemingly everything that the doctors do makes the pain worsen. With every needle etched into my skin, with every question asked bouncing around in my brain causing pain. The strength that I once felt in this body now deteriorating as the hours go by. Deciding to go against the many warning and wishes of doctors and closing my eyes in the hope that I would delink in the process.

Ties passes with me being asleep but still stirring discomfort. Grace and Norm both walk up to me in their human forms, having delinked prior. "What's happening?" I hear her say through closed eyes.

Immediately opening them, I utter, "Where's Jake?" looking at her then behind her in hopes of my brother to wheel in from behind.

"Where's Jake? Where's my brother, Grace? Norm?" I repeat louder, frantically looking at them waiting for a response, as I hiss because the sudden movement causes the pain to resurface.

"Jake got lost, he'll be fine, he's a marine after all. You should be worried about yourself right now." she says trying to calm me down.

Deciding to lay my head back down on the gurney, a single tear rolling down my blue-stained cheek. "You lost my brother," I say defeated as I close my eyes, not wanting to stare into the cold lights on the lab.

"Grace, Y/n didn't delink last night." Max interjects, breaking the silence in the lab. At his words, both Norm and Grace instinctively turn their gazes toward Y/n, noticing the thin layer of sweat formed on her forehead.

"Why can't we just press the emergency release button on her link bed?" Norm asks, directing his question as Grace.

"That'll kill her and her Avatar. She is too weak in both states." Grace responds eyes not leaving Y/n, who lies there, examining her false body whilst her real one remains trapped in her link bed.

"This cannot be treated with the medicine we have. This is an Avatar body. Only Tsahik can heal her now."

Opening the door to his link bed, Jake is greeted with the sight of Grace flashing light into his eyes. "Come on back kid." she says slapping his face lightly.

You're not gonna believe where I am." he says with a chuckle, earning a smile from Grace who immediately knew what the Marine had just said, while exiting the link bed. Reminded of the harsh reality as he adjusts himself on his wheelchair.

"Where's Y/n? I gotta tell her all about the shit I went through today," he says, wheeling around to go find his sister.

"That's what we wanted to tell you Jake, Y/n is still in her Avatar form." Grace informs Jake, as he looks to where her link bed is situated and confirms that the bed is indeed still running.

"But, she's been that way since yesterday. She's sick Jake. A sickness we are not capable of treating. Only Tsahik can, and you're the only one they accepted in, so we need you to–" Grace adds but is cut of by Jake.

"Take her to Mo'at. I got it." he adds while still being in disbelief at the information that Y/n was still in her Avatar form.

"Where is her Avatar?" is all he says as he looks away from Grace, guilt eating at him. While he was snagging a date with the Olo'eytkan's daughter, his very own sister was fighting for her life in a body she didn't wish to even have.

"On the gurney." Norm says, pointing at a still Y/n in the center of the room, wires attached to her temple and onto a monitoring machine.

Wheeling over to his sister, Jake stops and looks at her face. Eyebrows scrunched, as if she could still feel while she slept. "Don't worry Y/n, I'll bring you to Mo'at, she'll know what to do."

"Come on, Y/n. I'm gonna need you to work with me here." Jake grunts, his effort evident as he hoists one of my arms over his shoulders, helping me off the gurney.

"I'm trying," I sigh, leaning heavily onto his Avatar body. The pulsating agony in my temple dulled a bit, but still remains excruciating, especially at the slightest of sounds- ironic, given the heightened senses of an Avatar.

"We just need to get you onto the Samson. Trudy will take us halfway there, we'll have to walk the rest." he says, leading me into the loading dock where a lady, who I assume to be Trudy, waits. Both Grace and Norm by her side in their Avatar forms.

The flight didn't take long, but the machines noise makes it unbearable to sit without contorting my face. "We're here Y/n." This is where we split." Grace says, placing a reassuring hand on my shoulder as the Samson lands amidst Pandoras dense flora.

Exiting the ship with Jakes help, I watch as Norm, Grace and Trudy fly off. Norm and Grace are yet to be accepted by the Omatikaya, while Trudy's situation is more obvious.

The trek to the home tree isn't far, but I struggle to appreciate Pandoras beauty as my head seems to only want to be focused on pain. "This wouldn't happen with Tommy–" I begin through gritted teeth.

"Would you just–Y/n. Stop thinking of the past, he's gone." Jake interrupts, his voice laced with irritation as he adjusts my arm, supporting me as we continue.

"How could you just forget–" I start before silencing myself, fixated on the towering tree ahead, it's entrance clearly marked. Voices fill the air with a foreign language.

"Kewong." is the only word I hear as Jake and I navigate through the gathering crowd. Inspecting us as if we were uninvited animals. The murmurs fade but linger as a commanding voice resonates through the gathering.

"Jakesully. We accept you, yet you think it's acceptable to bring back another tawtute!" a woman declares, descending the home trees stairs with confidence, her demeanour unmistakably authoritative.

"Mo'at. Tsahik of the Omatikaya Clan. I ask that you please help my sister. She is ill and cannot be helped by our healers. You're her only hope." Jake pleads occasionally averting his gaze from Mo'at's stern glare.

Mo'at turns her attention to me, and I stiffen under her sharp gaze. "What's your name?" she asks bluntly, her eyes boring into mine.

"Y/n. Y/n Sully." I reply, swallowing hard.

"Tsmuktu. Uniltirantokx Tsmuktu." she declares, circling me like prey, mirroring the crowds earlier inspection.

"You are weak, Weaker than your brother Jakesully. You will not survive." she declares, her words final. She refuses aid, and Jake seems to sense the seriousness of her words.

Stumbling forward, out of Jakes grasp, I follow Mo'at pleading silently as my knees buckle beneath the weight of my throbbing head.

"I only aid The People. You, Y/nsully, are not one of us." Mo'at declares, dismissing me without a glance.

In the midst of Mo'at's discourse, a dandelion-like creature lands briefly on my forehead before fluttering away.

A woman steps forward, "Atokirina, Ma Tsahik." she says in a rushed voice, offering a tentative smile.

"A sign from Eywa." she explains, lifting me gently. "Ma Tsahik." she turns to Mo'at with a knowing look.

"Come," Mo'at says not bothering to look back, leading the way with the woman and Jake by my side.

"Who's eywa?" I whisper to Jake, to which he shrugs. "No idea, asked Norm and he gave me a lecture, but I tuned out." he whispers back, a shared chuckle lightening our steps as we struggle to keep pace with the Tsahik.

Entering a tent-like structure, I can only assume belongs to Mo'at and her mate, the Olo'eytkan. "Lay down." she instructs me.

As I comply, Mo'at resumes speaking. "Neytiri, fetch her appropriate clothing. We do not tolerate tawtute attire." she commands, turning to Neytiri, who promptly departs. Mo'at kneels beside me.

As Neytiri leaves, another Na'vi man enters, his anger radiating as he confronts Mo'at and I. "How could you allow this demon entry?" he accuses, pointing a finger at me.

"Tsu'tey she is unwell. She poses no threat." Jake intervenes, stepping forward with his hands in the air.

"You! Do not adrress me as one of your own." Tsu'tey rebukes Jake, pushing him aside to confront me.

"You suffer because you inhabit a false body. Return to your tawtute life." he insists glaring down at me.

"I would if I could," I retort, meeting his gaze from my position on the floor, catching Mo'at's attention.

"If you could?" she probes skeptically before returning her focus to crushing the herbs, while Neytiri re-enters with a loincloth and accessories.

"Yes, I am unable to revert back to my human form." I admit, sighing as Mo'at and Neytiri exchange meaningful looks.

"Child, you are chosen by Eywa. Both you and your tsmukan." Mo'at declares, placing a cool cloth on my forehead and motioning me to remain still.

"It is settled. You will be instructed by Tsu'tey, once you are well." she concludes leaving, with a furious Tsu'tey follwing behind.

"I will teach you both the ways of our tongue." Neytiri announces before departing, leaving Jake and I alone in the home of the Tsahik and Olo'eytkan.

"Rest Y/n. I wanna go back and tell Norm about how you and I are both getting trained by the future clan leaders, I wanna see the jealousy on his face." Jake says, a grin on his face as he exits, likely to delink.

With that, my eyes drift closed involuntarily, the pain slowly receding as I slip further and further into slumber.

previous » next III

[rainbowcarousels]

Baby Genesis Headcanons (just because)

Genesis was the first baby born from the project. We know it was canonly either Angeal or him, but with a name like Genesis and the fact Deepground was set up after his birth rather than Angeal's, it makes sense he's the first baby.

He was also a premature baby. Given what we know of the process of the jenova babies happening, it's likely his biological mother died from mutations not unlike we see at Nibelheim given this was where the Jenova project was set. That would also imply that Genesis and Angeal were also Nibelheim babies as it seems there were multiple labs there from what we've seen in DoC and Rebirth.

Since we know whatever is in Genesis's genetic structure that's unusual was there at birth from the DoC guides, I tend to think this means some aspects of cell degeneration were already there there too. As such, I don't think his pre-SOLDIER immune system was great and he was the type of kid who got every cold and cough under the sun. It led to him spending a lot of time curled up books.

Spent more time at Angeal's or in the caves than he did at home. By the age of ten, he had mastered getting out of Angeal's window just to knock on the door as if he was arriving. Angeal's parents know of these shenanigans, point out they know but Genesis still continued to do it because he has always commited to the bit.

I do think Genesis is far more fond of Angeal's parents than he is of his own. Loves his own, obviously, but their relationship is far more complicated for reasons he doesn't understand and I think it says something Gillian displayed pictures of both of them. The woman might be stone cold in some ways (such as putting her guilt before saving her kid) but I think there is a sense of responsibility with Genesis and for whatever it was worth, I think Genesis honestly thought she'd help without getting Angeal involved because of that relationship.

Genesis had private lessons compared to Angeal doing the village hall packet classes. Whether he actually studied all of it is questionable, but he's always had enough charm and unapologetic gumption to get away with things. The utter hilarity that Angeal seems to have been seen as more of a bad influence will never get old.

Genesis did not know he was fostered at all, so this provides a certain amount of confusion to his childhood interactions with his parents. It's said that they 'grew' to love him, but he absolutely remembers that detatchment and doesn't really understand it. It's a wedge that sits between them for a long time, assuming maybe they didn't particularly want kids when he happened so he's a bit of an inconvenience and they're just dealing with that.

I absolutely believe Genesis' biological father is Gast. If he's the first baby and Gast is definitely caught in the excitement, I can see him deciding well he's too human, he can go have a quiet life in an apple orchard and given Shinra's surveillance, it's easy enough to check in on him if need be. I don't think he ever really considers Genesis his, it was very much a clinical process unlike with Ifalna, but does consider the kids his in a very broad sense of being part of the project. There's a disconnect there that - not unlike Gillian - he can really only see his own guilt and mistakes rather than the living, breathing kids it produced.

Genesis's first summon was found in the caves under Banora. It was a summon - for me, I use Ifrit - and he spent so much time and energy leveling it up and delving into fire and magic that they became his most intense disciplines as an adult. That said, people definitely....misplaced materia around him, oops, how did that happen? (Yuffie would be proud)

Given that Banora was the freezer for Project G, I think he and Angeal were the only kids around their age for a long time and they've been codependent as hell ever since. I think there is an aspect of Jenova cells recognising each other as much as it's being the only two little kings of the castle for their village for a good while, but the result is the same: getting seperated for great lengths was a lot harder when they got into SOLDIER because they'd spent their whole lives around each other (more than they know).

Genesis's interest in exploration of gender nonconformity grew out of the magazines and things that he could get from Midgar. I think originally it was just a bonding thing with his mum, like he learned how to make drinkslike a Little Adult from an early age. I think that doing things like nails or learning about make up was just a way to get his mother to talk at length without any weirdness creeping in but he developed a genuine passion for it as a form of individualistic self expression. Especially later around Sephiroth.

I think Genesis talks at people more so than to them because he grew up in a big house with very few people around and the silence was deafening. Even as a little kid, I think he just talked aloud. It just made him feel lonely, so filling that silence became a way of dealing with that and so, years on, when no one is listening to him, he's used to that. It's a good way to get past the 'you never told me that' thing because he can sneak in that he knocked over one of Angeal's bug infested monstrosities when Angeal isn't listening between LOVELESS arguments.

[alovelywaytospendanevening]

On a January day in 1948, a hefty book filled with turgid scientific prose, and scores of tables and charts, landed amid an unsuspecting American public. The tome reported, matter-of-factly and without judgment, that American men were up to all manner of sexual exploits behind closed doors, and that the minds of huge numbers of them were churning with taboo desires.

The book, Sexual Behavior in the Human Male, by biologist Alfred Kinsey of Indiana University, was an utter revelation for a populace living in a time when masturbation was frowned upon, oral sex (even between husband and wife) was illegal in some states, and homosexuality was considered an extremely rare, criminal deviance.

Overnight, millions of American men realized that they were not lone freaks for doing what they did.

Based on thousands of exhaustive, confidential interviews with churchgoers, college students, prison inmates and more, Kinsey reported, for example, that 92% of men had masturbated and half of married men had had extramarital affairs. A full 37% of men said they had had some form of homosexual experience at some point in their lives.

Five years later, Kinsey’s second volume — Sexual Behavior in the Human Female — came through with more revelations. A full 62% of women, for instance, reported they had masturbated, about half of the women said that they had engaged in premarital sex, and two-thirds of participants said that they had experienced overtly sexual dreams. The book was widely attacked as an affront to the dignity of womanhood.

Kinsey’s work did more than reassure people they were not alone: It highlighted a disconnect between certain laws of the land and actual sexual practice. “Everybody’s sin is nobody’s sin,” Kinsey once said.

Sex researchers say Kinsey’s biggest contribution was the sheer cataloging of variation. But his most-famous findings revolve around the issue of homosexuality. He devised the famous Kinsey scale — a numerical gradation of levels of homosexual orientation, with 0 representing those who were exclusively heterosexual and 6 being exclusively homosexual. The scale is still used by researchers.

Kinsey also reported that 10% of the men he interviewed said they engaged in predominantly homosexual activity between the ages of 16 and 55. “That changed the thinking about homosexuality,” says Dr. Jack Drescher, a New York psychoanalyst. “If it was more common than people thought it to be, then perhaps it was what we would call a normal variation of sexuality rather than a form of mental illness.”

Perhaps above all, researchers say Kinsey’s work and the later studies it inspired showed social scientists, public health workers, therapists and geneticists just how much there was and still remains for them to study.

Based on work such as Kinsey’s and Evelyn Hooker’s, the American Psychiatric Assn. voted in 1973, after intense debate, to drop homosexuality from its Diagnostic and Statistical Manual of Mental Disorders.

Today, experts believe that Kinsey’s precise numbers were inflated, partly because the people he interviewed to draw his conclusions — especially in the book on males -- were not nationally representative. A posthumous reanalysis of his massive dataset found that when interviews from prisoners and other sources likely to over-sample the number of homosexual participants were removed, the percentage of those with exclusively homosexual experiences fell to 3%; another 3% reporting that such experiences were extensive but not exclusive. Those figures are in line with more recent studies.

Kinsey, meanwhile, has been accused of, or credited with — depending on one’s point of view — doing more than laying the groundwork for a new field. He radically altered the way society thinks of sex, and ushered in far greater sexual freedom.

“His influence was tremendous — it opened up the field,” says Vern Bullough, founder of the Center for Sex Research at Cal State Northridge, and author of Science in the Bedroom: A History of Sex Research.

Full article: "The Kinsey Effect" [Los Angeles Times]

[limolib]

04/King of the Hill.

7th floor x female reader (the 8 show) Masterlist WC:7.9K. specific chapter warnings: uhh violence, kissing (it’s the king’s game ep)

(:̲̅:̲̅:̲̅[̲̅::]̲̅:̲̅:̲̅:̲̅)

If there was a way to test the limits of the human mind, it would be hunger. Three days she’s done this, stripped you of the most basic essentials for survival. You wondered where she was going with this, knowing her message had already been read loud and clear. three days of your insides gnawing at you, begging for any relief. You tried to cheat the system by buying glucose replacement drips, but it didn’t work. 

Upon the nauseating revelation of the current situation, you’d fully expected for all hell to break loose, surprised to see nothing of that sort. The morning after everyone received the empty boxes, the topic had become the elephant in the room with no-one able to utter acknowledgement, lest it become true. She was starving us because she didn’t get her way. At this moment in time, you were all equal. Those who voted for her and those who didn’t. No one was spared. 7th floor on the same level as 1st floor. Everyone had retreated to their rooms, some looking for previous scraps to pick at, others to disconnect from everyone. You waited about an hour in your room, having spent it staring at the ‘window’ and fantasising about everything you’d do when you get your hands on that witch, then got up and headed down stairs to 2nd floor. You hoped to fix things between the two of you, to get her to see why you took your stance. 

Knock, 

Knock,

Knock.

Three quick knocks, your special code. For a minute, you thought she’d just ignore you, as next to no sounds came from the room. Then, right as you were about to turn your heel and head back in shame, the tall blonde woman opened the door. Her face housed her usual expression; slightly exasperated, kinda challenging you with eyebrows raised only a little bit. She didn’t say anything and waited for you to lead the conversation. 

“Can I come in?” you cleared your throat. She shot you a quick up and down before turning around and stepping into her room leaving her door open, allowing you to walk in. 

“I thought by voting we’d already be giving her what she wants, 2nd.” you started, she still had her back to you. “I thought by leaving it blank there’d be no harm done on my part. Also, it wouldn’t’ve even mattered, right? This whole thing is crazy but you can’t go blaming me-”

“I’m not mad,”

“What?”

“I’m not mad. I wasn’t mad.”

“But you-”

“I was pissed at everyone that day. I thought the whole thing was stupid.” “Me too!” “Were you the blank vote?” “Yes.” “So who was the third vote for 3rd?”

She turned to look at you now, waiting for the answer, but you had a feeling she already knew. 

“7th…” To that, she huffed, but it sounded like ‘I told you so’. You stood there awkwardly, unsure of what to say next. 

“6th offered to sneak me some food in exchange for my vote,” she chuckled lightly, “I wonder how he feels now.”

You both smiled at the thought of 6th floor, who’d been nothing but loyal to his master, even going out to campaign on her behalf, also being punished with everyone else. 

“What do you think we should do? How do we fix this?” she sighed. 

“Maybe we buy a speaker and blast some trashy music till she loses her mind,” You joked. 

“Won’t that affect 7th floor too?”

“Hmm, collateral damage.”

She looked at you with a small grin, happy that you’d apparently come to your senses. You found comfort in knowing that, at the very least, you could count on 2nd. But both of you knew the only thing that could be really done, was wait. 

So you waited. For two long nights and three wrenching days you tried to come up with an out. A way to fix this without playing by her stupid rules. But seven different people could not collectively could not come up with one solution. Well, almost seven, as 6th floor was not keen on joining forces with those below him. You witnessed the subtle yet prominent deterioration of the group throughout these days. It was likely less the hunger and more the uncertainty of when the relief would come. 

On the third day, it seemed that the end of the show would be rather near. There was nothing from 8th. Not a list of demands, not a second chance, no wiggle room, what she could possibly want from this standoff was behind you. Actually, calling it a standoff is wrong; after all, only one of you has a gun. That was until 3rd floor was struck with a revelation. 

“The poop! I will go up to apologise to her and take. the. Poop.”

Even 4th had offered to share the load, both going hand in hand to beg for forgiveness.

The only one who saw a flaw in this plan was, of course, 7th. He then suggested for him to lead the ‘negotiation’ for a better outcome. He made his way up the steps slowly, weakness wearing him down. At her door, he got close and worked his magic. You didn’t hear him from down here, but you were sure his words were well thought out and put together, even if they didn’t represent everyone’s opinions. To everyone’s delight, she opened the door to let him in, allowing for a more private discussion and only a tiny tiny tiny part of you counted the seconds he was in there for, incase they weren’t just discussing. Not that you cared, obviously.

…at least not anymore.

That night, food delivery came earlier than it ever did, and you wondered wether she’d previously keep it for a little out of pure fun. Despite having no desire to give in, to give her what she wants, to admit 7th was right; the hunger stripped away any form of resistance in mind and you all but inhaled the unfulfilling meal. You stared at the empty platter on your bedroom floor, one question plaguing your mind;

What could he have possible told her to get such a quick resolve? Was 4th floor begging incessantly at her door not enough? Was the cyclic knocking of other floors not satisfactory? Even 1st climbed up all those stairs to plead. Or did she want to hear it from him. 

Logically, if it was the latter of all those theories, it would be because it gave her the ultimate power trip. 7th floor, not a small number. It is most definetly not because she wants anything to do with him personaly…obviously…she wouldn’t gain anything cause he isn’t even interested. Or maybe its to piss you off? That is so far fetched, you hadn’t even began giving her any indication that you dislike her…right? Or that you like him for that matter. 

Your nails were begging for relief, so you did the only possible thig to quiten your mind. 

Face to face with the 7F sign on his door, your hand went up and back down a few times as you debated your next move. 

What would you even say? I’m sorry? For what? No, you weren’t. 

How did you convince her? Yeah, that  sounded more reasonable. 

But the door opened before your fist was able to collide with the wood, he didn’t look suprised to see you stood there, as if he knew. Instead, he greated you with an unreadable expression, only sleepiness present in his eyes.

“How did you-”

“I saw your shadow.” He pointed under the door,

“Oh. Were you about to-”

“No, not at all….Come in.”

 Maybe one day he’ll let you finish your sentenes. 

His room was still the same, with no new noticable additions to his decor other than two more pages of drawings on the wall. You wondered selfishly if you were on the other side of those, too. 

Whilst he’d usually be the one to break the quiet, this time he had nothing to say. There was a tense silence between you two, he’d retreated to sit at his desk while you stood awkwardly by the door. Surely he’d been expecting you, right? Or else why’d he be so unfazed by your appearance. Maybe he already knew what you’re going to say. 

7 years of medschool and countless nerve wracking osces and this is where you freeze up?

You don’t know why it’s so different with him, its not like he’s the first crush you ever had. You prided yourself in being a well-rounded intellectual yet, somehow, your brain would turn into mush around him. He was observing you from his spot, sat relaxed on the chair with head tilted slightly in curiosity. Why does he looked bored? You’d come to find out that no, you weren’t getting the hang of actually reading him, he only allows it to happen. And when he doesn’t feel like it he’ll put on his stone cold face and leave you guessing. You must’ve been just stood there for a bit now as he pulled out a cigarette from a pack that  rested on the table and lit it, taking a deep inhale and dropping his head back on the exhale, resting it on the back of the chair, eyes watching the smoke dancing above. 

“At the rate you’re going at I’d think you had a spare set of lungs.” Really, that was the best you could come up with? It was supposed to be a bit of a joke to ease the pull, but it only added to it. Mostly because he paid it no mind, taking another drag and blowing it out and above from his lips, as if you hadn’t said anything. You took this as your cue to maybe leave, or jump out the window, whichever is easier. This was not the man you were used to, not the one that did useless moves in chess on purpose so that you could have a fighting chance, thinking you wouldn’t notice. Not the one that spent time mapiing out every curve and dip of your features and then hid the evidence, keeping it only for his own pleasure. You wondered if maybe he’d always been this, if this is the man that 2nd saw. You grabbed your own hand to your chest for comfort, unsure of where to go from here. He relieved you of that reposibility soon enough. 

“Why are you here, 5th floor?” He said with an exhale, eyes unmoving from their spot on the ceiling. This wasn’t any better. “You said your part, I said mine, what do you want.”“I’m not here to apologise 7, nor admit defeat.” You pulled yourself together. At that, he chuckled. 

“Didn’t think so.”

“How did you convince her?”

“A whole bunch of kissing up.”

“That’s all you’ll give me?”

He re-adjusted suddenly to sit up straight and drop his head, hands gesturing a few times as if he wanted to say something then didn’t. Again and again. He turned his head up to you from his slumped position. 

“Why do you want to know? What difference does it make?” he put out the cig after one final breath. 

“For future reference.” 

He laughed. A full, well heard laugh. Tossing his head back and clutching his chest a bit. It did nothing to ease your nerves unfortunalty, actualy only adding to them. When he was done, he got up and straighted himself out, pushing his glasses back to their place. There was a slight skip to his step as he walked over to you, head turned down the whole way, he stopped with a  longer-that-usual distance between the two of you. One hand found a resting place of his hip while the other grasped his bottom lip and pushed it together. 

“Why are you being difficult?” he looked up at you from behind the frame. 

“Excuse me?”

“Just say what’s on your mind 5, go ahead. Why did you actualy come up here? Hm? Because I doubt it’s to get insight on how to handle conflict with 8th from here on out. No, I’ll be the one to do that, again. ‘Thank you for what you did 7th oh I was starving!’” He mocked in a woman’s voice, persumably ment to be you. “But no, you stroll in here, high and mighty as if what we just went through was easy. You know what 5, I’ll start for you. You’re right. What she did in the talent show was nothing special, nothing any of us couldn’t do, nothing you and I couldn’t have done better. And you’re right, doing what she wants will not get us anywhere but an endless cycle of being under her will. And you’re RIGHT, I’d really rather not betray my friends so that I can have food at the end of the day. But this is what the situation is here 5th, we are all entirely powerless.” 

Despite his pretty level tone of voice, his face had turned a slight red, giving his anger away. There was no lie spoken in his words, you’d completely disregarded the relief he’d brought for everyone, even if it was just a minute or two of smooth talking. Maybe accusing him of being a traitor had been overkill, even if it was only implied in your words. You’d been so caught up in justice that you forgot that, in here, there is nothing you could do if something like this were to happen again. Because, she would not kill you, only keep you barely alive. You’d been so ready to stand your ground, you forgot others who were unable to stand at all. In the end, 7th put the needs of everyone before his own pride, and you, who were too prideful to let things move smoothly, couldn’t spare him a word of praise. You both knew that this wasn’t about your vote, but your words that had been shot to kill. Standing here, anger long gone and consequences clear as day, you couldn’t help but feel guilty. 

“I’m sorry, 7th floor. I didn’t…I hadn’t thought out how things could play out. What you did this morning saved us a lot of torment. I can’t thank you enough.” 

Maybe this whole thing would’ve worked out better in the real world, justice, accountability and all. But here? This is just a game show after all, and there was nothing you could actually do to alter the circumstances, only accept them, tough it out for the remaining time and hope it goes smoothly. Still, you didn’t regret your vote. 

He looked at you, unmoving from his position, jaw clenched and face as neutral as he could keep it. Though there was now a hint of softness to his eyes. He sighed and shut his eyes slowly. 

“It’s fine.”

There was nothing more to say. You weren't sure how things will go between you two from now on. You would always rather chose the risky way, even if you’ll end up hurting others, and he’d rather always play it safe, even if it costs him his ego. Both of you were comfortable in your routines, making the differences between you as clear as day. Your thoughts were cut off by the sound of the money going up, eyes hovering over the accumulated amount for a beat. 7th floor, alright. You bit the inside of your cheek.

“Goodnight 5th floor.” You took that as your cue to leave.

“Goodnight 7th floor.”

You left his room shortly after, feeling worse than when you’d gone up.

. . .

The sun beamed down from the clock window onto your spot by the ‘pool’. You sat quietly, biting mindlessly on the inside of your cheek as 8th floor reveled in the attention she had forced everyone to give her. Your eyes were fixed onto the projection of dancing water- almost life-like, entirely uninterested in the bootlicking contest going on at the moment. 

“Right 5th?” 3rd’s nudge pulled you out of your thoughts, you looked up to notice all but 2nd’s and 7th’s eyes on you, each for their own unique reason. She held your gaze with that sickeningly sweet smile of hers, waiting for your response. Truth be told, you hadn’t been paying attention to this whole thing, so what the question entailed was beyond you. But since everyone else seemed on board, and since it was 8th floor asking, you had no other option but to;

“Yeah, sure.”

King’s game. An openly sexual game you played at parties that reeked of alcohol and people that won’t remember your name. It was a glorified way of getting friends to finally make a move on their crush, often ending when everyone got their fair share of kisses and some STDs. You’d go to get a change of scenery, often only observing the game with a smile from afar. To make it ‘fair’ though, you were each to pick out a numbered ball at random, making the king unable to target anyone specifically. 

Much to your surprise, the first round of lottery landed you the winning ball. You picked two numbers at random and then thought for a minute. Usually the people you would watch playing would already have a clear goal in mind. You however, did not, so you went with the first thing in mind, having the two numbers hold hands till the next round. 

“Ugh that’s so boring!” 4th exclaimed, reminding you exactly why you never attempted to engage with this activity.

You were very entertained though, watching 7th and 6th hold hands was way more amusing than you’d like to admit. You tried to hold back a smile as 7th looked at you with narrowed eyes.

“Awh man don’t lace your fingers!” 6th frowned. Ok now you were fully smiling. Just as 7th was going to let go of 6th to try and save face, you decided to be a little annoying. 

“Aht Aht Aht, one whole round.”

The following pick got you the number 7, maybe it was destiny. You felt a little disappointed, having just started to enjoy the role of king. 4th floor was crowned that round and she tapped her lip in thought. 

“Hmm 5th and 7th!” She looked around for the chosen numbers. No one said anything though, so you remained quiet.

“You two have to kiss!”

Lovely. Oh no…What if it’s 6th floor. Ew ew ew ew.

“Who’s number 5?” 4th batted her eyes around the group.

Everyone’s attention turned to look for the source of a loud sigh, 7th floor, he had his hand raised awkwardly as his eyes darted wearily around the circle. 

Oh! This is somehow worse! 

You almost burst out laughing. Maybe this was actually a prank show and everyone here is a paid actor, maybe this is all just one big joke. You bit your lip, unsure of how to proceed from here. There was no possible way for 4th to know that she picked the worst possible time to have you do this. 

“...Aaaaaand 7?” 

You stared at the ball concealed in your palm, is it too late to pretend you don’t know how to read?

Before you could even reveal yourself, 7th’s eyes landed on yours, causing you to bite your lip to conceal a smile. He had his arms crossed at his chest.  Maybe it was destiny, 5 and 7, how do we keep finding ourselves here? You could swear that some tension released from his shoulder upon knowing you’re the lucky gal, probablyprobably just relieved it isn’t 6th again. Without breaking eye contact, you also sighed loudly, mimicking his previous action. 

“Right here.”

All eyes on you. 

Taking initiative, you swayed over to him, eyes still locked with his. You took his side by the carousel and he turned to face you upon your arrival, small smirk planted on his lips. It was here you noticed that he’d gradually stopped styling his hair daily, opting for a more relaxed/messy look. Good, he looked better this way. He was trying to keep it together, but you could tell his resolve was slowly wearing away, his breath fast and shallow. Anticipation, nervousness, I’ve got you figured out, tough guy. You gave what you were about to do a geniune moment of thought, planning your moves cautiously. Before you could chicken out, you grabbed his shirt and pulled him in for a kiss. 

Ok maybe it was more like a quick peck, his lips only momentarily meeting yours, but you both lingered face to face for a beat too long afterwards. This whole thing caught him off guard, how quickly you took initiative, causing him to awkwardly fix his already well positioned glasses. You both sighed at the same time, looking straight at everyone else but each other, unable to fully process what just happened. At least the audience was entertained, and by audience you mean 2nd and 8th, the only two who have caught on to your situation. 

Wait hold on why was 2nd smiling? You shot her a look, only causing her to press her lips into a thin line to conceal her amusement. 

“Noooo cmon that wasn’t a real kiss.” 8th giggled, tilting her head slightly. 

“Yeah! I was gonna say that…” 4th added.

What? Sorry that wasn’t enough of a show for you?

You looked at either of them with an unamused look.

“That’s all I-” You started but were cut off by a warm had pulling you in. 

You found yourself in the same position again, only this time he was leading. He’d hadn’t given you a moment to collect yourself before his hands moved up to cup your cheeks, his glasses nudging at your face a little. None of that that mattered though, as his determined lips pulled any coherent thought from your mind. You shut your eyes instinctively, your own hands shot up to his hair, letting the feeling wash over you as his hands kept your face close to his. Had you not known any better, you’d think this a man starving, the way he was practically swallowing your breaths. It got to a point were you were struggling to keep up, needing to sorrowfuly pull away from this man. And for a split second as you , in all the breathless mess that you were, you could swear he grunted a little.  

The two of you split, panting and struggling to pull yourself together. A glance over to him showed the same predicament, hair a huge mess and glasses practically fogged up. Your eyes danced across the grinning audience then found their way awkwardly to the ground. 

“30 hours..” 2nd scoffed

You snickered slightly, hoping that they will move on.

The following round, you found yourself with the ball number 1. 8th was the king, how fitting. You were still shaking with fluster from the previous round, both you and the lucky guy unable to look at eachother, opting to stand on the same side. 

“Numbers 3 and 7, you guys have to french kiss!” 8th giggles a bit. 

From this perspective, you realise how lucky you were to have 7th be your partner, had it been anyone else it certainly wouldn’t have played out so well. You watched in anticipation as 3rd floor and 2nd floor were revealed, wincing slightly at the unlikely pair. Something in you told you this won’t end well.

“And if I refuse? Let’s keep it fun, I’ll do anything but that.” 2nd challenged. 

“Hmm ok, you two wouldn’t have made an entertaining pair anyway.” 8th smiled. You knew that was just a subtle dig at 3rd but you’d hoped he hadn’t caught it. 

“The person with the number 2 ball and second floor have to….fight! For one round.” There it was, the moment 7th had been doing his best to avoid, all for what? A cold sweat ran down your back, mouth opening to protest but finding nothing. The air suddenly grew thick with dread, your eyes finding 7 who had his head dropped down in defeat. All you could do now is hope it doesn’t deal too much damage. 

A ball bounced from the person standing next to you. How cruel. It was 6th floor, you didn’t have to turn to see the excitement on his face, you could already practically smell it. How unfortunate is it that the two people who can’t stand eachother the most here were going head to head with no restraints, no judges, no referees. Only ‘surrender’ and what a heavy implication that word had. 

They got into position, trash talking a little, and you found a hand subconsciously clutched around 7’s arm as you observed the fight. 2nd wasn’t an amatuer, in fact she was kicking 6th’s ass. But regardless of your distaste for him, you knew it would be better to end it now. Neither of them seemed ready for that though, and in a split second, it all went to hell. 2nd’s hand had been hurt, maybe it was from the talent show, allowing 6th to get the upper hand. He immobilised her only weapon by practically breaking her fingers, causing her to get knocked down. He then took this chance to get on top of her, throwing punch after punch at his helpless opponent. Blood splattered onto the pool floor. Someone said something but the ringing in your ear had blocked it off. The men made their way to pull a victorious 6th floor off of 2nd. You rushed to her aid, hands doing what they do best. Her face was almost unrecognisable from the blood and swelling.

Up in her room, you used the best things you could get with the 50 hours 6th’s fists had earned you to nurse her back to health. Her eyes were fixed on the wall, unable to meet yours even for a moment. She wouldn’t speak either, so you didn’t push it, she trusted you for a reason and so you gave her grace in her moment of weakness. 

Re-emerging from her room 20 minutes later, you walked back to the group with your head hung down.

“She’s fine for now,” Your voice came out a bit shaky. “She’s in alot of pain though. We can’t-...You took it too far 6th.”

You stood your ground, looking him straight in the eye. 

“She didn’t surrender.” He stated simply. 

“You and I both know you had it out for her.”

He got up suddenly, sizing you up. “All she had to do was say the words.” “When? Between one bloody punch and the next? You didn’t give her any chance to-”

You hadn’t noticed your voice getting louder, angrier, as 6th floor got more pissed off. 7th’s hand had caught your wrist, his eyes urging you to tone it down, step back. You took a deep breath.

“We…I don’t have the facilities to treat serious injuries,” You pleaded to no one in particular, but your eyes subconsciously landed on 8th. “We need to set rules to prevent this from hapening again. A way to back out of the dares.” “A penalty!” 4th floor said with cheerfulness that didn’t match the room. 

A taser.  How great. You went from avoiding violence to introducing a weapon on the same day. She pushed the button causing you to jump back slightly, that thing was loud.

That concluded the first round of the game, capping off at 80 and a bit hours, minus what you used for 2nd floor. 

You sat in your room quietly, allowing the day’s events to catch up to you. It had taken so much effort to try to control the situation only for it all to fall apart in a few moments. Violence was now clearly on the table. And not just that, it was a better time-earner than any alternative. Wondering what other sick games 8th might’ve brainstormed in her solitude was only making you feel worse. You decided to head down to check up 2nd floor, catching a hint of your reflection in the metal of the chute. Come to think of it, it had been a while since you saw yourself, not that the blurry image of you in the metal was any help. You hadn’t noticed the blood staining your shirt, likely from when you helped 2nd up to her room. It made you sick, usually you’d change out of your bloody scrubs immediately at the doorstep, but you haven’t got that option here. 

Knock Knock Knock. 

You made your way into 2nd’s room, her eyes unable to meet yours. The chute groaned open, allowing you to retrieve the icepack you bought for her, the one from the morning too warm to re-use. You sighed, then began to do some checks on her.

“Can you move your fingers?” 

“Have you coughed up blood?”

“How’s the pain?”

“Do you need me to do anything?”

Of course, you were practically talking to yourself, her only giving short nods or huffs as answers. You took a good look at her face, now tinged slightly with a blue undertone, one eye swollen shut. You gave her a nod and turned to exit the room. 

What if it had been you? What if it had been anyone else? At least she was able to hold her own for a minute. Would 6th floor go all out on someone who can’t even fathom the strength needed to fight back? Is this how things will be from now on? Moving in fear of upsetting 8th or her guard dog? You made your way back up to your room with your head down, hoping the food delivery will be soon. 

“How is she?” You looked up to find 7th leaning against your door, a cigarette in his hand. 

“She’ll be fine.” You let out a shaky breath. “7th…this is so messed up. What are we going to do? I mean- A taser? Really?”

He took a drag and rubbed his eyes from behind the glasses, fixing them and then looking at you again. 

“Just avoid conflict as much as we can, I guess.” He said it as if it was the easiest most simple thing to do. You held eachother’s eyes, an uncomfortable silence accompanying your exchange. If he was here to talk about the fight then there’s nothing more to be said, but the way he was awkwardly just standing  there hinted at something else being on his mind. 

The kiss!

The events following it must’ve overtook your mind because you somehow completely forgotten that whole thing. The memories came rushing back and now you too, held some awkwardness in your stance. 

Where do you go from here? What does he want to say? This is completely uncharted territory. Last night you had practically willed the earth to swallow you whole after your conversation, feeling both guilty and a little stupid and then you made out with him like a few hours later! You recalled the sudden boost of confidence that took over you when you’d gone to kiss him first, 

Maybe if I stay still enough he wont see me. Do people with glasses have blind spots? 

He noticed your nervousness and straightened himself up, clearing his throat. 

“Oh- sorry was I blocking your way in?”

You tilted your head and bit your lip, what a dork.

“Were you blocking my way into my room by leaning on the only entrance to it? Yeah 7, you were. But I wasn’t that keen on going back in anyway.”

He let out a low chuckle, his ears turning red in embarrassment.

“Is there something else you wanted, 7th?” You said maybe a bit too sweetly. 

“I just- wanted to say I’m sorry. For earlier. I got a little carried away I think.” but his eyes told a different story, one that held no regret for what he did. You knew deep down that this was just him being polite, or maybe trying to push this unnecessary romantic sublot to the side while you deal with way bigger issues, so you really didn’t take this ‘apology’ to heart. 

Plus you were in the mood to get him flustered. 

“Oh its ok. Besides, you’re a pretty good kisser.” You shrugged.

This caused him to go into a fit of coughs, choking on his own breath. You tried your best to keep the smile inside as you walked over to him and placed a hand on his shoulder, prompting him to stand up straight immediately. The redness on his face would have now been one of two things, but if you had to guess…

 “Uh…Thank you,” he cleared his throat. “You’re not so bad yourself.” You raised your brow slightly. “Hard to judge my performance fairly if you were doing all the work, no?”

You really need to stop this now, you’re teetering on bullying this poor guy.

His jaw clenched as he turned his attention to the very interesting flight of stairs on the side. Truth is, he had nothing to say. He had come here to make sure there wasn’t any uncomfortableness between the two of you. This was not what he expected back. 

You sensed his predicament and decided to help him out here. 

“I think you were just excited you weren’t paired with 6th again.”

That prompted him to laugh, a little harder than the joke was worth, but it was the undoing of the tension that caused that. 

“Yeah,” he breathed out. 

“You know, all in all, I’m just glad you and I are ok. I thought- you know- because of our talk last night you’d be mad at me.”

That caused him to turn to you, laughter long gone from his blood. 

“I was.” he started, voice only a slightly above a whisper owing to your closeness. “For a little, but you’re a very difficult person to stay mad at.”

Now it was your turn to be speechless. His eyes darted down to your lips momentarily. And so here you two were again, in the same position you keep finding yourselves in. You gave it some thought and decided to mess with him a little, leaning in to plant a small peck on his cheek, lingering there as you could feel his breath grow quicker, his heart practically beating out of his chest where you’d subconsciously positioned your hand. You kept holding this position, and he turned to be face to face with you, only a breath or one boost of confidence apart. Instead, you pulled away suddenly, sighing at the loss of his warmth. You then grabbed your card and opened your door, leaning on it innocently as you looked at him. 

“Goodnight, 7th.”

He stared at you with his head tilted back slightly. He let out a long sigh and shut his eyes for a moment, was this desperation you’re seeing? 

“Goodnight, 5th” he bowed his head to you and walked lazily up the steps. 

2nd floor almost didn’t let you in the following morning until you threatened to sneak into the chute to get to her room. She looked worse than the day before, but that was expected. You spent your morning re-wrapping her hands and getting some of last night’s food in her. 

“How is she?” 3rd asked as you finally joined the group.

“She’ll be in more pain today than yesterday, so I doubt she’ll join us.”

“Nice makeover.” For a split second you thought 6th was referring to you, maybe commenting on the blood on your shirt. But you turned around, surprised to see an exhausted 2nd floor standing a few paces behind you. You let out an exasperated sigh, but you knew arguing with her here would get you no-where.

The second round of the game began around noon, you had the ball #5. 8th was king, again. Statistically, this doesn’t really work, but you know probability plays out differently in the real world. 

“4! Touch 5’s breasts, from under the shirt!” She smiled with excitement and your face scrunched up. This whole thing was made worse with 6th enthusiastic eyes looking for the victims. Gag, what if he was 4? Was that why he was giggling like a horny teenager? Oh you’re definitely picking penalty. 

“Who’s 5?”

You rolled your eyes and turned the ball around, catching 8th’s attention causing her to jump up and down in anticipation. Your eyes met 7’s, who had a slightly disgusted look on his face. 

“And number 4?” 

3rd floor raised his hand awkwardly, you’ll take it. The guy’s too shy to ever make something like this sexual and you really weren’t in the mood to get tased today. 

You sat in front of an audience on the swingset, 3rd standing above you to allow…better access, eyes planted on the floor in shame. You’d hoped he’d just go ahead and get things over with as you stared distantly at the time. 

“Okayyy, 3, 2, 1-” 4th counted him down.

“Tase me! I mean-” He cleared his throat. “I’ll take the penalty.”

You got up to protest with him, knowing that what he was asking was no small trade-off, and you really don’t mind anything at this point. But he insisted, and knelt down at the metal slide, what a stupid position. 

The taser felt heavy in your hand, you really didn’t want to hurt him, but rules are rules. You turned it on and put it on his lower neck, just at the end of the shirt, attempting to avoid going on direct skin. His body tensed up then fell forward, sphincters making a show of betraying him. 

Your hands shook a little, taser still clasped tightly as you watched 7th and 6th carry 3rd up to his room, allowing him some dignity. 

“He didn’t do it cause he’s a real man,” 2nd praised. But a freshly conscious and very distraught 3rd wouldn’t hear it. You left the room shortly after, heart breaking at the loud whines coming from his room the moment you shut the door. That was enough for that day, seeing as 3rd’s chivalry earned the group 60 hours. 

The following day got you yet another losing number, at least you weren't picked for the dare. 4th was king and you were beginning to notice a pattern, must be luck. She picked 1 and 2. At that, 3rd dropped to his knees in relief. Poor guy, it must’ve really done some damage. The numbers were 2nd and 6th floor. Had 4th floor planned this, she wouldn't have been able to continuously pick such awful pairs time and time again. A coin flip, loser gets penalty. 

“I thought you only get penalty if you disobey the king,” 1st floor spoke your mind. 

“We said the king can do what they want, as long as everyone agrees.” That response felt a little���rehearsed, but anyway. The way 4th moved during the coin flip had you a little confused, aren’t you supposed to catch the coin with the back of your hand?

2nd lost, her resolve fading as she came to terms with being on the receiving end of the penalty. Administered by 6th, no less. She met a similar fate to 3rd and 6th couldn’t resist taking a dig at her unconscious body. 

You weren’t king the following day either, 8th was. What a surprise. But at least you weren’t picked for the dare. 2nd and 3rd were. A slapping competition, loser takes penalty. Very high stakes. The only two people here that know what it feels like to lose were going head to head. If you had to bet though, the money’s on 2nd. Too bad you wouldn’t be able to cash out a win like that.

You’d spend the nights after each round up in 7th’s room. Things were…different between you two now. He was more comfortable, open and relaxed than he used to be. Flirting had become you two’s favorite game, along with the various obscure board games he’d piled up, it never went anywhere though and you’d lovingly started keeping a score of who could fluster the other more often. Its a tie, mostly because you never anticipate his cheesy lines and he shuts up with any compliment. He’d also become more open with the idea of getting to know each other.

“Are you…an engineer?” That made him laugh. 

“No, I am not.”“What!”

You were both laid on his mattress, a respectful distance between you two as you stared at the ceiling. He, as usual, was smoking and you took pleasure in watching the wafts of gray rising and disappearing. 

“Close though, I- used to be. Kind of”

“And then?”“I’ve already given too much.”“Ughh fine. Your turn.”

“How did you get here?”

“That sketchy white limousine-”

“Don’t be a smartmouth”

“I lost my scholarships cause of a decision I made. I wasn’t ever going to be able to afford uni without them so when I got kicked off I had two options; finish the remaining years on your own debt or drop out. I chose the former. I don’t regret it though”

“Of course you don’t,” he chuckled, 

This went on for a while. Vague answers and fits of giggles. You hadn’t noticed how sleepy you were, eyes betraying you in a moment of a silence going on for too long. He watched your sleeping form with a sheepish smile on his lips, feeling awful for what he was about to do. 

“5th…” he shook you gently. “5th it’s almost midnight you have to leave.”

You groaned in response. 

“C’mon I’ll walk you down.”

You reveled in this routine. It was…sincere. There was no hidden agenda or heavy conversation. Everything just flowed smoothly. That day was no different. You were in his room when food delivery was taking place, it seemed she would now only send it whenever she felt like it. A part of you wanted to give her the benefit of the doubt, maybe she received the food at different times each day. But knowing her? She probably kept it in her room until she decided which meal suits her best and then keeps it depending on how pleased she was that day. 7th grabbed two meals and set one infront of you. There was something so familiar about this, just eating in silence with some great company. The food wasn’t so bad that night. Bland, as usual, but being so high ment that you got second pick of the meal instead of 4th., allowing you more options. The poultry here wasn’t the best, you’d expressed your dilemma of never getting any of the shrimp meals to 7th. They used to be quite the delicacy back when you had group lunches, all things considered. So this time, he picked up the shrimp meal for you and another meal for himself. Your shoulders dropped in a sigh when the food hit your tongue, moaning a little, causing him to chuckle. 

“Had I known you like it so much I woul’ve left it, 8th usually takes the other one for herself.”

“That witch eats?” You said between mouthfuls. “Plus, 6th floor would’ve taken it.”

Your little bubble was popped by a knock at the door, the frown on 7th face indicating he wasn’t expecting anyone. 

“Is everything ok?” He kept the stranger outside, blocking your view of whoever it was. You couldn’t hear what they were saying, but it looked like it wasn’t good. 7th looked over to you before letting the guest in. 

Guests, actually. 1st, 2nd and 3rd floors. It seemed important, so you put the food down and got up. They were surprised to see you in there, obviously, but the matter at hand swayed the conversation away from your presence.

Someone was rigging the game. That one wasn’t hard to figure out, but 1st floor made a show of the coin toss, revealing that 4th floor is probably a prime suspect. Less than a minute of thought will tell you that she likely wasn’t doing this for her own benefit, you all came to the conclusion she was working for the higher floors. 7th and 3rd smoked as you all talked, clearly a bit on edge from this whole thing. 

“We can’t confront them, they’ll just deny.” 7th sighed. “We have to wait for them to slip up.”

And how convenient was it that as you were leaving, you spotted a sneaky 4th floor tiptoeing towards the box. 7th volunteered to handle it whilst you waited upstairs, watching. 

“Care to explain?” 2nd had taken the spot next to you on the stairs, observing 7th walk quietly towards a distracted 4th. 

“You aren’t my mom, so not really no.” You said half seriously and she chuckled.

“You know, maybe he isn’t so bad” She said.

You both watch as he put a hand around 4th’s mouth to stop her from screaming, similar to what he did to you the first night you talked. You wondered how many women he does this to.

“You looked very entertained when him and I kissed,” You teased. “What was that about?”

“I just knew you were probably a mess.” She laughed. 

You let out an awkward laugh, catching 7’s eyes as he made his way back to you, giving you a thumbs up on the way causing 2nd to chuckle.

“Is he smiling? I didn't think he could do that!” she nudged your side. 

. . .

The air was thick with anticipation as you watched 7th stand over 8th floor, taser in hand. He seemed unsure, dragging the action on a little too long, as if he didn’t want to do this. Maybe he was afraid of what repercussions may follow, but this was a fair fight, no? Equal contribution and all.  

“I’ll count down. 3..2..1-” He didn’t get to have the taser touch her skin before 6th floor gave him a harsh kick to his side, causing him to get knocked down, glasses flung somewhere in the process. None of you had even noticed 6th go up to him, too focused on the excitement of the idea of punishing 8th. You let out a yelp, he had blood on his face and was clutching his side. 6th floor picked up the taser. 

“Hey what the hell are you doing!” It was not really a question, but 2nd’s cries fell on deaf ears. 

You were all frozen in place, unsure of what to do in this situation. 

“W-why?” 7 shook. 

“We needed a twist, don’t you agree?” 6th said grimly as he looked over to the cameras, before turning back to 7th and shoving the taser into his neck, prompting him to pass out. 

Shocked gasps erupted from your side and your brain went into action mode, running around the slide to reach the man on the floor, trying to see if there’s anything you could do. But you didn’t make it all the way before 6th made a show of turning the taser on in your direction. A clear threat. 

You watched in helpless horror as 6th and 4th carried 7th up eight flights of stairs to the highest room, smiles wide on each of their faces and you couldn’t try to think of what things they may have in store for him. 

05/ The pawn.

[enihk-writes]

[rotbb headcanons_001]

anon asked: How would Chung myung react if someone declared love to him? Like someone he doesn’t have feelings for or barely knows, would he just be like “get away from me” while being considerate, or “get away from me” while openly hating that person

character: pbss!chung myung (AND) mhdd!chung myung

summary: chung myung rejection headcanons

author's note: honest to god i didn't see this ask until like today,,,

═══════════════

CHUNG MYUNG would probably respond to the confession differently based on the person who's confessing to him. like his attitude will range from disconnect to hostility depending on which of the categories the person would fall into.

STRANGERS

CHUNG MYUNG would try to get this over with as soon as possible. honestly, he might not even look at that other person in the eyes as he's turning them down.

oh. uh... sorry? i don't feel that way about you?

CHUNG MYUNG would feel really awkward at that moment and after he's done saying his part he would get out of that place quickly before the other person can respond. his philosophy is — the fewer headaches you have the better.

ONE OF THE OTHER MT HUA DISCIPLES

PBSS!CHUNG MYUNG would find it funny. this is probably someone he's grown up with since childhood so no matter what, he just can't see that person in a romantic light. for the shits and giggles though, he would remember this and proceed to tease that person for years and years until they are sick of this guy.

MHDD!CHUNG MYUNG would be appalled. what do you mean you liked him? before he rejects them he might ask if that person has brain damage from the training he's put them through. when he sees that there really isn't anything wrong with them, he would turn them down, it's not harsh but it is direct and blunt.

MHDD!CHUNG MYUNG can't see that person as anything other than one of his kids, if only they knew he wasn't as young as he looked. he can't really fault them for feeling this way, he knows he is easy on the eyes in his second life and at their age, it was common to have crushes or fall for a good-looking face easily.

ONE OF HIS ALLIES

CHUNG MYUNG would give it a few seconds to pretend he was considering his options before he rejected the person. human emotions were so fickle, that he couldn't be certain his ally today wouldn't stab him in the back tomorrow — all because of a broken heart. though, if that person handled his rejection with grace, he would view them a little more favorability than before. even if he was doing his best to avoid crossing paths with that person.

ONE OF HIS ENEMIES

CHUNG MYUNG has to be held back from pouncing ahead and trying to rip off the other person's face. what the hell? wipe that look off your face! he would let loose a string of curses, he wouldn't hide his utter disgust with the person. he thinks that this is most certainly some sick, sick, joke getting played on him at that moment. and he swears up and down that he just saw a smug look so let go of him and let him clean up that person's attitude!

CHUNG MYUNG is not a kind man to his enemies, so the moment he gets a chance to get rid of them — best bet that that's his first order of business.

═══════════════

end thoughts: personally, i think that chung myung might lean deep into the aroace spectrum and i do think he is the type to love his friends and family so deeply that there just isn't room for anything else. on that note, i believe he loves tang bo — just not in the romantic or sexual way that allo relationships are... i don't know how to explain it tbh but i just know? i mean it takes one aroace bitch (me) to recognise another like we're pokemon in the wild.

[mdhwrites]

Have you seen the leaked TOH pilot and pitch bible yet? IMO it’s crazy how most of it is better than the final product.

I have! And... I don't know if I entirely agree with that.

What I found most fascinating about it is that a lot of the contradictions and issues of scope with TOH that doomed it are still in the pitch bible itself. Just some quick examples of what I'm talking about: When talking about themes, they talk about Fantasy versus Reality but it's as shallow as it is in the show. After all, one of the episode concepts pitched within it features a plot that has Luz literally going "This is just like in my fanfiction!" and being better able to handle it because of that.

It builds up the emperor of the land and Belos (known as Oberon) when talking about them but NONE of the plotlines include Oberon in the episode pitches or even mention the coven system for that matter. They are still barely a thing to the show with the only episode concept about that part of the show being the one about William.

An utter lack of real stakes like how King has to face the deep crises of a decision of either being a lackey to the people he used to run with while also losing any chance to ever reclaim his lost power... Or he can save Eda and Luz and lose the chance to work with these people again. That's not really a compelling decision, is it?

The pitch also claims that the show will mostly be about Luz and Eda's relationship and how Luz's determination will push Eda to be a better person... And most of the episodes pitched are still not actually about the two spending time together. Just Eda making Luz upset so she goes off to do her own thing, just like the same problem as in the actual series.

You actually have MORE characters in this version which sucks harder for trying to narrow things down, especially since more of them are disconnected from each other than before. At least Boscha, unlike Pascha, has a connection to literally anyone in the main cast.

You also have stupidity with your magic still. "Look! I need to work hard to make small objects float!" And apparently that's enough to make all of Hexside lose their fucking minds. WHY!? In 90% of settings, that is as basic as the light spell Luz learns. It's why it's one of the first spells Harry learns.

Oh and let's not forget "Almost all known portals to the human realm have been severed" but apparently Amity has access to one of those known portals freely enough to attend two schools. It's a small thing but it would cause problems in theory.

BUT.

I will give credit to this: Luz is MUCH more compelling in this version. I think if there is something that is just unequivocally true, it's that. She is way less inoffensively nerdy, instead her interests being more upfront and troublesome, helping explain why that would be why she is rejected and not because, you know, she puts people in danger. Also her rise to power is just better.

Arguably, Luz in canon is a chosen one essentially from episode FOUR onwards. Now, this is up for debate but being given a power almost out of nowhere, with no training, that no one else has, is usually a sign of a chosen in a narrative. Episode 4 is when she gets the light glyph. She doesn't work for it, it's not a big character growth moment, etc. like that. She mostly just oops into it. Making it that Luz ACTUALLY has to work for her magic and the show actually has to explore how the magic works, making it so she has something to learn is just strictly better, especially for the concept of her learning to be a witch. Eda would actually be able to teach her something instead of shrugging and going "Welp, good luck!"

I will say that the bible does also lean more into an adventurous aspect though. This version of episodes would easily be more fantastical and include more magic in them which would help the Isles not feel so much like our realm. I will say the fact that there's also active anti-human prejudice also would be good because then Luz being human would, you know... Matter. Not that the Isles is really given a personality even here besides the oppression they're theoretically under. It's still a very generic fantasy setting.

A lot of the rest though? It's really not that unique or different from the show itself. Lilith is almost exactly the same, Tibbles is just Gus but a demon, there are slightly more restrictions on things like being human or magic but, you know, the show didn't care about its one law, why would it care about three? Even Amity, who does look better on here, is only because it's on paper. This is literally just Amity's pitch in S1 after all. All the reasons people loved Amity are here.

Conceptually it is fine but I am surprised about how not only this got picked up but also how it was greenlit so heavily as to get a pilot animatic, with voice acting, based on these concepts. There's just some very clear cleaning up that needs to be done, basic questions on its own setting and own logic that isn't even playing into the comedy/fantasy angles that could let you let it pass. It's not all of them or even the majority but a skeptical prereader could even raise these basic sorts of inconsistencies like the ones I brought up above. After all, this is half a season's worth of episodes pitched and a fifth of them are still going to Amity and more of them have Luz directly interacting with King than they do Eda.

There's a final thing I have to bring up due to it being why I think the show changed so drastically from this pitch bible to its final form: This is way more complicated. TOH already has extremely decompressed storytelling and too many elements working in tandem. Meanwhile, every character is MORE complicated in this one and less connected to each other, necessitating that each, except maybe Eda, will take more time to get through their stuff. The writing team either had to sharpen how much they could do in an episode or simplify and congregate elements. We see this a LOOOOT in S2A, especially Escaping Expulsion, where it seems the writers went "Even with three whole seasons planned, we don't have enough time to do everything we want to, the way we like to, so we need to start cutting and simplifying even more than before."

One example of this that's really easy: In the pitch bible, Willow is a random witch who lives near Eda. Well that means she'll likely either take time out of a couple episodes as she's introduced or take up an entire episode just for herself. Tibbles is also just on their own, like in the show. Introducing both of these characters is not really an option. However, put them both into Hexside and suddenly you can introduce three characters at the same time organically, like we saw with I Was a Teenage Abomination.

Luz just being gifted magic is another element to this. Her having to actually experiment for every spell and having to have a real system to her spells limits what she can do but also means spending a LOT more time on her magic. You can't just have a flower open up and give her the glyph of the day as easily, nor have her be able to throw her spells around as she wants. Making it so she just needs reams of paper and/or a marker makes it a lot easier and simpler to have her start casting magic.

This version of TOH would have SHATTERED under its own scope while the current version mostly bends and cracks from it. However, if people do use this to go "FUCK DISNEY EVEN HARDER!" I won't be surprised. Grand scope ALWAYS looks better on paper than it does in action. It sounds epic and multi-faceted and complex. The problem is that it still has to fit its format and it is MUCH harder to execute on than a more simple concept.

There's a reason the only perfect project is the one you never do because you can promise the world without ever having to deliver. So, while it's nice to see an earlier version, I am by no means going to say this would have been a better version of TOH.

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

Sorry for anyone hoping for a link to the pitch bible btw. I just don't have one as I got given it as a document.

I have a public Discord for any and all who want to join!

I also have an Amazon page for all of my original works in various forms of character focused romances from cute, teenage romance to erotica series of my past. I have an Ao3 for my fanfiction projects as well if that catches your fancy instead. If you want to hang out with me, I stream from time to time and love to chat with chat.

A Twitter you can follow too

And a Kofi if you like what I do and want to help out with the fact that disability doesn’t pay much.

[afreakingdork]

Weak Spot - Chapter 52

RotTMNT Donatello x Reader

He's supposed to be dunking on someone else, but I feel like we're all affected by this week's chapter art by @garbagemilkshake

Warnings: Aged-up Turtles, Romance, Meet Cute, Villain Donatello, Cussing, Crushes, Xenophobia, Fear, Intimidation, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Hurt/Comfort, Love, AFAB Reader, Vaginal Sex, Sex Rough, Sex, Penis In Vagina Sex, Creampie, Teasing, Scent Kink, Sexual Tension, Breeding Kink, Multiple Orgasms, Cunnilingus, Fellatio, Marathon Sex, Somnophilia, Bondage, Feral Behavior, Feral Donatello, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Public Sex, Dom Donnie, Human/Turtle Relationships, Turtle Noises, Roleplay, Sexual Roleplay

Synopsis:  A love story of villainous proportions! Though it hadn’t come easily, as these things rarely do, you found yourself in a whirlwind romance with a handsome and mysterious mutant. His idiosyncrasies had been easy to ignore as attraction grew into something more. However, will love endure when the unknowns about him end up being far darker than you ever considered?

Also available on Ao3

First 💜 Previous

Mikey had been texting you non-stop.

No matter how innocuous it was, it troubled you just how flagrant you were being. In the week since the first, you hadn’t had a single flare up. There should have been anger. There was a rage that should have been parboiled like his damn chains on your skin. Instead, you’d simply stared when you’d received the first message after having just arrived at work. The surprised exclamation about Donnie also liking cooking had only given you pause. It wasn’t even a white flag. It was a blob on an otherwise empty message board. A single blip that you could pocket and forget; it was the second text that caused you to respond.

It was an image of Splinter screaming with a hand up as he tried to fend off the phone.

With only a few words and an image, you put it all together. The aging starlet had continued his streak of being the worst communicator. Based on the fact that Splinter was in his favorite chair, you set the scene of Mikey spending time with his father. Maybe catching up as adults with busy lives did, Splinter, many months after the fact, would have tossed an off-the-cuff comment about how you’d told him Donnie cooked, for better or worse. Mikey then incensed by the claim, rushed for confirmation and, against his father’s wishes, took a photo to validate his utterance.

The strange understanding of someone you barely knew had you crafting a response.

You: He went through an intense science related phase is all.

That single watering was enough to grow a field.

What followed that day was Mikey info dumping about some chef who dabbled in the same. He went on and on about how said man made cooking easy before outpouring an explanation of the years long hiatus between parts of his show. There had been a cookbook made in the interim that seemed to solidify network choices and you were soon on the receiving more pictures, now of Mikey with his signed copy.

Then another, where a starry eyed Mikey who maybe looked a few years younger was photographed with the man you could now attach a face to.

You’d meant to leave it.

In all the time he’d been sharing this story, you hadn’t responded once.

From his end, all he received were read receipts and yet he kept going.

Each time you took a break there was a new rolling number of messages and you caught up on them like reading the paper.

Sipping tea to warm yourself in the late afternoon, you were at the very least entertained. Part of you clung steadfast to the brick he’d tried to hit you with, but there was a disconnect from that menace and this voice. He was now a newsletter to be read at your leisure and you imagined this would be the last. A single blip on the radar that was Michelangelo, you’d have one better memory of him to hold onto.

Going back for your last work stretch until clock out, you wondered how that chef had reacted when he found out about his mutant devotee. You imagined he’d accepted Mikey’s looks then he’d probably followed it up with some guilt about animals and autonomy. Thinking of cow mutants and their stand to eat more chicken, you were soon off and gave your phone a final once over before heading out.

Your preview message wished you a nice night and you read backwards to catch up.

Mikey: Alright!

Mikey: That’s enough of that!

Mikey: Thank you for tuning into DJ Dr Delicate Touch CPAs radio hour

Mikey: We hope you had a good time listeners

Mikey: Okay wait who even listens to the radio anymore?

Mikey: I gotta do this like a podcast and thank my sponsor

Mikey: ShipStation, it’s better than the post office probably

Mikey: Fr tho

Mikey: Thanks for your time

Mikey: Have a nice night! 😁

Odd.

It was strange.

Putting your phone away, you should have been mad.

No matter how much you tried you couldn’t summon it.

The entire trip home, you tried to think about what you were missing.

The best you could come up with was that his words of leaving you be during the kidnapping had been ones you used more than once in your daily life. A level statement from one with otherwise untethered shoulders, it spoke of some kind of maturity. Besides Leo, the other two each had it in their own flavors. Mikey’s made the least sense as he flittered like a confused butterfly, while Raph seemed like the only one with a touch of reality.

You shouldn’t indulge this.

It was in reaching for your door knob that you were struck with an odd thought.

You weren’t.

Why worry?

Feeling like you had wasted your ride home, you left your concerns at the door as you stepped into the space with your partner.

A pleasant evening followed and the next day arrived without a similar hitch.

The following morning rolled out in a relaxed state that found you at your desk. It was sometime around 10am that you got another message.

Mikey: You ever wonder why eggs don’t taste like chicken?

Stupid.

That had been your first thought.

Of course they didn’t; they were embryos, but a second thought had you typing.

You: If you can’t taste then how do you know that’s still true?

It was mean.

You couldn’t even convince yourself that you hadn’t mean it that way.

Part of you did.

Part of you also felt like shit for poking fun at an obvious disability.

What did you even know about it?

You knew he couldn’t smell cum on you like his brothers.

That had to correlate with taste and yet you were the tasteless one.

It’d show him, you decided.

There had to be a barrier.

You weren’t familial.

You weren’t friends.

You were whatever you had with Leo at best.

Two photos thrown into the ether and an open line in case of emergencies.

The silence said you’d put the matter to bed.

Your phone should do the same.

You had work.

Moving to set your device down, you spied a percolation of bubbles before a giant image spawned.

Raising your phone on sheer instinct, you stared down at a meme.

An image of a turtle with its mouth open as if it had just been burdened with the reality of its existence.

Mind blown.

Mikey: TREE FALLS IN THE FOREST WHO!?

Mikey: THATS SO GOOD

Mikey: IM THROWING THAT BACK IN LEOS FACE RN

Mikey: REACTION IN COMING

Mikey: HERE WE GO

Mikey: HES EATING GOLDEN GRAHAMS GOT HIM

Your lips parted as you stared.

Mikey: aw man wtf 😩

Mikey: It didn’t land!!! 😩😩😩

Mikey: I did wait like an hour before responding

Mikey: He said it first btw

Mikey: Credit where its due

Mikey: Though wait hold up

Mikey: I take it back

Mikey: He totally got it from a video

Mikey: OH I KNOW

Mikey: Give me another! Hurry!

Scrambling for an unknown reason, you started to type out one before erasing it in exchange for another.

You: Does a straw have one hole or two?

You stared at the blank screen with an odd impatience until again there was a snap of bubbles and several images jockeyed for screen time.

They were a series of different images all conveying that his mind was blown.

Then another bout of silence.

Your cubicle felt way too large.

You were a tiny speck amongst moveable walls.

Mikey: GOT HIM!!!!!!!!!!!

A series of party gifs appeared in rapid escalation.

Mikey: He stuttered and everything

Mikey: Leo: one- no two… wait…?

Mikey: THE LOOK ON HIS FACE

Mikey: I’m running now btw

Mikey: He’s totally chasing me

Mikey: Dropped his cereal!

Mikey: LOSER IN THE BATTLE OF THE MINDS

An image of a chef loading penne into a gun had you slamming your phone down.

Hand over your mouth, you tried to contain your laughter until you stumbled away.

Far from the too big walls of your office and into the bathroom where you released your giggles.

You could see it.

You could see Leo turning to brotherly rage after being beaten by a quip from his younger brother.

The playful nature of chasing after him, bowl in hand.

Then the fateful spill where Mikey left him to clean up the mess.

Sputtering and washing your hands only to feel the cool water, you attempted to reign yourself in when you felt a similar bubble and pop as Mikey’s messages gave.

You’d mistakenly activated something.

Something you’d be stuck with. 

It was too late in a non-lethal sense.

That something was a week of near non-stop messages from the orange turtle.

Or rather the Ornate Box variety, which was one of many things you’d mistakenly waded into knowing about the man.

He had an awe inspiring bit of knowledge from over a dozen fields, though he wasn’t an expert in any of them.

He had ADHD which he spoke of as some shitty roommate he was forced to deal with.

He had over a thousand reaction images all sorted by mood.

More than one of which he’d created and you realized you were vaguely aware of them as they’d gone viral.

He had no idea anyone else used his pictures.

He both had a huge and non-existent social media presence.

A handful of accounts with millions of followers, he was a ghost of a bygone era that some people still whispered about.

He had completely forgotten. 

He’d logged off one day after deciding that it wasn’t good for his health and never looked back.

He didn’t even seem to have realized he had that number of followers in the first place.

He was authentically him.

That made him dangerous.

You understood now why younger Donnie had shunned him. Someone that open was terrifying. His power was too great for one single soul to hold, even with his faults. Those came mostly in the form of his attention span which made you almost wonder if he was struck with his attention disorder if only to restrain his power. The odd balance of the universe that Mikey himself had explained to you one night, he was as he needed to be.

He was infectious.

The clear baby of the family, he also appeared to be the other men’s favorite. Setting aside how they were loudly ranking one another, it was how Mikey conducted himself that had sucked you in. Even when he was plowing, bullheaded, into something without a care for the repercussions, it was difficult to fault him. It was comedic in a sense, but in a larger one it was more.

He was devastatingly earnest.

Not once had pretext revealed.

It had been on your way back to your desk after refilling your water bottle on the third day that you realized he could have an ulterior motive. You guarded yourself then. Reading back to see if you had let something slip and keeping an eye out moving forward. 

Only, he’d smashed the thought.

Unlike Leo, he never seemed to lead anywhere. 

In fact, he hadn’t brought up Donnie once since that first message. In the time since, you’d mostly placed that surprise as one he related to cuisine itself. Cooking for Mikey was elevated to an art form and he respected it with the worship of a clergyman.

In that way, he seemingly understood Donnie better than you.

From the way Mikey talked about food, it was nearly the same as Donnie talked about his passions. They both had the brash exterior of a scientist with a careful consideration of blasphemy in case their faith was infringed upon. Things were meant to be done a certain way, whether it be handed down by their field’s forbearers, and to deviate was a cardinal sin. 

Mikey was a little more self aware. 

Though he hadn’t brought it up, you eventually placed that original conversation hadn’t been about some chef, but about Mikey himself. 

That was why he’d thanked you.

He was explaining away his own confusion.

A learned habit you imagined came from a family where actions were rarely done with obvious intention, he was definitely the type to beat a point to death.

It only acted to enhance his innocence.

He could only be a mastermind far beyonds the likes of Donnie if he intended anything else. 

Your conversations were nothing more than two people casually getting to know each other. 

He was a regular guy with a love of life in spite of its hardships.

Even after the long day he’d had yesterday where everything had gone wrong and a villain had made off with a little old lady’s retirement check. Mikey’s resolve hadn’t been shaken. He’d taken the woman to go get groceries even while she made comment after comment about his species. He spoke of it all with a sense of levity and how, when he’d carried her things back to her apartment, she’d berated him outside of it in case he thought to rob her later. All taken with a grain of salt that he dismissed as he didn’t know the life she lived, he then explained the art he’d seen.

On the way home, beaten in a mental sense and, not doubting, but worn on humanity he’d sworn to protect, he described a mural.

Graffiti that he refused to take a picture of as that would muddy its message, he wove poetry about its lines. Colors warm like a sunset, he’d gone and traced the paint against the brick. He described the bubbling of the layers and how he could see which direction the artist took the cans in vivid detail.

He hadn’t even needed to say it renewed his faith.

There was no ending message that said he was reminded of why he chose to do this.

He only explained the mural before switching subjects as if that life affirming event meant as much as asking about a TV show you’d been watching the night before.

Donnie had taken notice.

You knew that right away, the first time you responded to a message in his periphery.

You texted your friends regularly, but this was new.

That excitement of getting to know someone in a flurried catch up.

He’d never seen you like this.

He also didn’t mention it.

You were thankful.

You hadn’t figured out how to explain it.

Donnie respected you.

You loved him.

It probably wouldn’t have been an issue had it not interrupted on the fifth night.

You and Donnie had been making love. You languished in calling it vanilla because that was the world’s most expensive and coveted spice. Never a dull moment with your partner, it was a casual renewal of your bond that had been interrupted by your phone vibrating loudly on the nightstand.

Kissing Donnie away from the distraction, the sudden flood of messages meant that for you the sound became a backdrop. It had taken less than a minute before he'd abandoned your lips to glower down at you.

“We’re not discussing this while I’m inside you.”

He knew.

Of course, he knew.

He knew you were talking to one of the other turtles.

He might even know which.

You would to drill him on the how after.

“Gonna be hard…” You feigned trailing off and nudged from beneath him.

He took the bait with a wary lowering of his lids.

“Considering there’s always some piece of you inside…”

He’d growled and under the cover of fucking you for your insolence, your phone had somehow been thrown safely across the apartment.

When you found it after, you ran through the messages accrued. “Are you mad?”

“Why would I be?” He responded without pause.

“How’d you know?”

“Yesterday morning you asked me to grab your phone.”

You looked over where he was folding some freshly cleaned sheets.

“I don���t usually inspect your electronics. You received a message as I was passing it off.”

“Why… aren’t you mad?”

“Are you under duress?”

“No.”

“Blackmail?”

You snorted. “Not even.”

“That one is…” Donnie’s lip curled with silent fury.

You felt guilt. “He’s a lot.”

“Incessant.” Your boyfriend looked right at you.

“He’s something… I don’t know.”

“It’s not my business.”

“I mean, it is.”

“No.”

“Donnie.”

“Who you speak to is not.” He snapped a top cover. “I trust your judgment.” He turned to construct a stack and moved away.

It wasn’t a blessing, but in an abstract way you understood where Donnie was coming from.

“Now if it was the blue one…” Donnie murmured from beyond your sight.

You had rolled your eyes and kept talking to Mikey.

Around the tenth day, it had become part of your routine. He wasn’t the type to necessarily wait or care for a response. He’d blow up your phone at any and all hours and as the newness of him wore off and settled into what seemed like a long term thing, you now responded to him at specific times. Usually catching up in the morning and at lunch, his late night messages were slowly forgotten as you had a series of new year hangouts with friends. Donnie’s attendance had been relegated to only one event where he devastated his social battery through one droning charcuterie board.

Resolutions to enact now that would surely be forgotten by February, your schedule was filled. It was after one such lengthy dinner that you’d come home, greeted Donnie, buried yourself in sheets, and realized you hadn’t heard from Mikey all day.Unearthing your phone as you cuddled up against your drowsy partner, you found no messages in your inbox and your brow came down with concern.

Mikey always messaged you.

The quick worry was doused just as fast as you reminded yourself how busy you were. He surely was as well, especially with all his hobbies, and also you barely knew the man’s real schedule. Your conversations with random ones, usually dictated by whatever topic of the hour interested him. It had been so easy to rely on him leading that it was sort of eye opening to find he hadn’t been the one to reach out. It made you scroll back through your messages where you quickly found that not once had you ever instigated.

Is this why he checked out from reality?

That flippant part of him, his supposed failing.

People were so quick to attach themselves to him, did he have to hold everyone else at arm’s length?

He made it simple, but was that his intention?

He never had ulterior motives.

Even when he was setting up for a punchline, he’d mistakenly jump the gun without waiting for the lead up because he was so excited.

He was good natured.

Leaning your head further against Donnie’s carapace, you wondered if there was something beyond.

If this was how he treated everyone around him, then there must have been an inner layer.

The true self he protected, was it a worried one?

Did he break?

Did he cry?

Was his heart always on his sleeve?

A bleeding one.

You felt Donnie rouse.

Stilling, you felt bad for having woken him.

“You okay?” He asked without bothering to look over his shoulder.

“Yeah, you go back to sleep.” You nudged him with your nose.

There was a long bout of silence that stretched and made you think he had done just that.

You sat amongst versions of Mikey guarded.

A series of clay soldiers, each modeled to protect their host.

All fragile in their own ways.

“It’s about him.” Donnie spoke softly, carrying little in his tone.

You nodded.

“We can…” He hesitated before unintentionally clicking his tongue with parted lips and an exhale. “In truth, I would rather never speak of this, but it concerns me. I don’t want you to feel that you cannot speak to me about something.”

You gave a small understanding huff.

He gave the gentlest shove backward to alert you that he was going to roll over.

You moved out of his way.

He got situated on his opposite side and stared you down. “A lengthy way to say: speak to me. About anything. Regardless. Even the blue one.”

“I feel guilty.” You blinked up at him. “That’s not why I’m upset right now, but I feel guilty about talking to him after what he did to you.”

“That is not your fight.” He brushed your cheek.

“We’re one. You’ve said that before. I should hate him. That would be doing right by you and-”

A finger pressed to your lips cutting you off. “I appreciate the thought, but no.”

You pursed your lips against his digit.

“How to explain…?” He asked the air. “Our union is to share burden. To ease the other. Do I seem perturbed?”

You looked around the top half of your vision and hoped to indicate that certain messages received had interrupted one union in particular which garnered his ire.

He pinched your lips down against his thumb.

You giggled.

“My quarrel with them has not been put to rest, but it is as good as dead. With the rat’s deal and our current trajectory a lifelong one, I can’t see a way in which that would change. That does not mean I am not cautious, only that they are bound by duty to you as am I.”

Your eyes widened.

He came in to rest his lips against your forehead as he spoke. “You have unintentionally settled a life long grievance. I am content in knowing I hardly have to think of them.”

You touched your pads to Donnie’s plastron.

He took it as you wanted to see him and backed up enough for you to.

“You’re okay? You promise?”

“I will inform you if I do not care about a conversation’s contents. If you give me fodder otherwise then I have grounds to take up the sword as I have always wished.” In the dark he especially glinted with malice.

“Are you using me?”

“Not explicitly.” He caught a playful kiss.

You pushed him away. “Terrible.”

He hummed an agreement.

“I’m worried is all.” You had to stop and locate your phone. “He went from messaging every day and then today nada.”

“Did he have plans?”

“He’s always doing something…” Your brow furrowed.

Donnie looked up and away with a sort of satisfaction.

“I’m hoping he’s not dead.” You retorted, dryly.

“Your loss.” Donnie responded with another wicked smile.

“It’s too soon to ask. I guess part of me is worried he’s already-” You cut yourself off.

Since when had you become attached?

Sure he was fun to talk to, but you knew loads of fun people.

Mikey was something all his own, but there were millions of people on the planet.

He, in particular, had a specific glaring failure of his person.

One that manifested across from you.

It was also the tether of which the two of you had met.

The odd dichotomy of it all felt abysmal.

What did you want?

It’s not like you’d thought Donnie would join their little family.

The dynamic would never be a solid one.

He had his own support system now.

At the same time, you felt a strange attachment to these beings.

The ones you could not help, but were inadvertently stuck with all the same.

You had always wondered what happened to Leo after the gym incident.

Had he reconsidered his position?

You hadn’t dared ask Mikey.

That wasn’t the youngest’s business.

Mikey had his own life to live.

They all did.

What bound them to you?

What bound them to each other?

You softened.

What binds anyone to anything?

You looked at Donnie anew.

Your partner shifted against his pillow watching you go through the motions.

“I thought we were becoming friends and I’m kind of sad in case he changed his mind.”

If surprise struck him in any way, Donnie betrayed none of it.

He only reached out and fixed a flyaway hair on your head.

“If he has, then he is a bigger fool than even I conceived.”

You buried yourself into your mate’s chest.

He rumbled a soothing churr and you let your eyes drift shut.

You would have made it to dreamland if a sharper nagging vibration hadn’t interrupted your journey. 

“With age, they say.” You felt Donnie pick up your phone from where it had once again been forgotten.

“It’s him?”

“Yes.” He passed you the device.

“Thank you.”

He only hummed a response before rolling over. “Wake me if you receive good intel.”

“Uh huh!” You snarked, rolling onto your back to check the message.

Mikey: Oh man group was wild today!

You: Group?

Mikey: Yeah! We ran a lemonade stand to raise funds and as an exercise and there was only one fire!

Mikey: New record!

An image of a cartoon penguin cheering came next.

You: I have no idea what you’re talking about

Mikey: Group! You know!

You: I really don’t

Mikey: Did I not…?

Mikey: Dang it! Why didn’t you say anything?

You sent an image you’d gotten from him of a cartoon character from your youth raising a judgmental brow.

He responded with a picture of a tanuki snickering.

You imagined he’d get along well with S.H.E.L.L.D.O.N.

Mikey: Me and another mutant named Todd run a villain rehabilitation therapy group

Mikey: My other dad, Draxum, once put together a league of bad guys to try and crush or turn us or whatever he was doing at the time

Mikey: I forget

Mikey: Anyway Todd was a member (long story) but one day years ago when we were doing our yearly camping trip (longer story) I brought up how he was actually good and he said all the guys were good!

Mikey: I kinda…

You watched him struggle to respond for the first time.

Your gaze flicked to Donnie.

Mikey: Not to make it weird but have a personal tie to that

Mikey: You know

Mikey: You get it

Mikey: Anyway not to make you uncomfortable

Mikey: We decided to start a group with an open invitation coffee donuts the whole thing you see in movies in case anyone wanted to talk it out and learn why and whats of good and bad and if that’s really a thing cause I don’t think it is

Mikey: We all just got stuff

Mikey: Sometimes that stuff sucks

Mikey: You never know whats really going on with someone else

Mikey: Yeah!

Mikey: Wow that was long

Mikey: Is it hot?

Mikey: Are you feeling hot?

Mikey: Heat wave in January!

Mikey: Global warming!!

He sent a comic about people being hot tied to the concept.

You: You’ve been running this group for years?

Mikey: Yep! We just had our… I don’t know… like 4 year anniversary

Mikey: We’re gonna do something big for 5

Mikey: Four was like a pizza party

Mikey: tbf one two and three were also pizza parties

Mikey: Who hates pizza?

Mikey: It’s pizza!

Tapping your screen, you took a breath before sending your next message.

You: Are you doing it in hopes someone will come?

Mikey: …

You watched as Mikey stopped responding.

Was that too much?

He’d just skirted the topic for your sake.

Mikey: In the beginning yeah

Mikey: Like a small part of me

Mikey: Even when the rest of me gave up

Mikey: Always hoped…

Mikey: I don’t know

Mikey: It’s sappy

Mikey: The others call me dumb

Mikey: I thought I had a track record

Mikey: Good old Mikey he can convert the best of them with good intentions!

Mikey: The therapist of the family!

Mikey: All you have to do is talk it out!

Mikey: You know the wild thing about group?

He waited.

You: What?

Mikey: It taught me the exact opposite.

The period there really caught you.

Mikey: That even coming in with the best intentions doesn’t mean anything

Mikey: You can’t control other people’s reactions

Mikey: Only your own

Mikey: That good and evil is a stupid depiction

Mikey: No one is really one or the other

Mikey: I’m not better than anyone else

Mikey: I’ve done some stuff

Mikey: I’ll tell you

Mikey: That doesn’t read write in text…

Mikey: I won’t literally tell you

Mikey: Even though I could

Mikey: Man actually I might!

Mikey: Not the point though what I’m trying to say is there is so much out in this world and healing is a wild journey and there’s so many ways to take it and la dee da this is usually where people start to think I’m a crazy hippie man flower child born in the wrong decade!

Mikey: Point is

Mikey: I stopped doing it for him or anything else

Mikey: I do it for me now

Mikey: I love therapy and if someone else gets something out of it then I’m STOKED

Mikey: And not cause I did it

Mikey: Its getting to see them do it?

Mikey: Them break through their trauma

Mikey: To see themselves as something more than what they were told or what they were forced to be

Mikey: Whatever

Mikey: It’s great

Mikey: How was your day?

You smiled and clutched your phone to your chest for a long moment before returning to the text chain.

You: How often do you do it?

Mikey: Every Wednesday!

Mikey: Wait

Mikey: OH ME GOSH DO YOU WANT TO GO!?

Mikey: YOU SHOULD TOTALLY COME 🤩

Mikey: Wait not because I want you know who to come you get that right?

Mikey: Oh gosh you don’t think that that’s what I’ve wanted all along right?

Mikey: The weight of my actions is suddenly a bus!!!

Mikey: Y/N!!!

You: I don’t! Stop! You’re spiraling!

Mikey: Fweh

Mikey: Really?

You: Yes! Stop!

Mikey: FWEH

Mikey: Bullet dodged!

You watched a Matrix gif appear

Mikey: Fr tho I think everyone should come

Mikey: Dad came by once!

Mikey: Leo won’t!

Mikey: Jerk! He needs it most!

Mikey: Raph comes when he can but everyone always ends up attacking him its funny

Mikey: Drax is always there tho

Mikey: YOU CAN MEET HIM!!!

Mikey: …

Mikey: I should be honest about something

You: ?

Mikey: Not the first messages but like after

Mikey: How I kept messaging you wasn’t totally innocent

You squeezed your phone.

Mikey: You… I don’t know what you did but like obviously you reached Donnie but you super did something to Leo

Your head fluffed your pillow.

Mikey: Like seriously hes been different

Mikey: Softer

Mikey: Kinda thoughtful?

Mikey: He was peak mad before so its a really noticeable change

Mikey: Like hes finally thinking about things instead of just holding his usual grudges

Mikey: I had to see what the big deal was about you

Mikey: Were you stepping on my therapist territory?

Knowing he would keep going on, you penned out a message.

You: What did you find out?

Mikey: That you’re just a person

Mikey: Just like everyone else

Mikey: I should have known

You watched a gif appear where a random cartoon character asked how many times they had to teach an old man a lesson.

Mikey: That’s a beauty of life

Mikey: You just keep learning!

-

Standing outside a community center, you thought about what you were about to do. 

You were going to attend this week’s group therapy session with Mikey. 

He hadn’t been intrusive when you dodged responding to his offer, but in the last few days, you had asked question after question. He accommodated them like some kind of monk and when you finally requested the address, he unleashed a barrage of memes that had momentarily slowed your phone to a crawl.

Berating him for it, you’d gotten the information and ended up here after work.

A few people trickled in around you, human and otherwise, and from your last text with Mikey, he was here somewhere to set up the dreaded chairs he had told you so much about.

Shooting off one last message to Donnie and having already promised to take him out this Friday as pittance, you heard a gasp to your left.

You were slow to turn and then forced to look up.

“Y/N!”

“Hypno!” You went straight over to the hippo who cordially took your hands.

“Small world! What are you doing here?”

“I’m going to…” You glanced center then back. “Are you…?”

Hypno lit up. “Could you believe? I found these meetings after our little soiree!”

“The group? Wait, I’m glad you’re okay! I’m sorry we got separated-!”

Hypno blew a raspberry and rolled it into a sound. “Pssha! I’m quite alright. Knew I would be! Knew you would be too! I like to imagine I cleared the way for your escape! Not my first shindig ruined by those infernal turtles!”

 You couldn’t help but chuckle. “Still…”

Hypno nodded furiously before gesturing for you both to move. He then offered his arm and you took it with him covering your hand comfortably with his own. “Yes, well, you inspired me that night.”

“Me?” You craned your neck.

“Why yes!” He huffed, holding his head high. “Softening the great Donatello! Weren’t you something? You were!”

“I’m just…” Mikey’s text rang in your ears. “…a person.”

“It only takes one to change your entire trajectory.” Hypno told you thoughtfully as some random man held the door. “Thanks, mate!”

The man responded in kind and even scrambled to get the second double door. More pleasantries were exchanged and you entered a gymnasium where a bunch of fold out chairs were formed into a circle.

“Where was I…? Oh, yes!” Hypno squeezed you in a move to steer you towards the refreshment table. “Our little talk sat with me, you know? Give yourself more credit. You got through to this old hippo’s heart! You made me think, ‘Hypno, old boy, do you like the villainy or do you like the captive audience?’ That was you!” He released and you stared at a table covered in a cheap cloth with donuts and drinks dotting its surface. “Do try Todd’s lemonade. It is absurdly delicious.”

“Mikey said.” You eyed the sweating pitcher and Hypno poured you a glass.

“Michelangelo!?” He crooned, passing you the first and pouring his own. “That’s new! You weren’t too keen on him last I saw!”

“Last I saw he was attacking you…” You grimaced and tried to cover your nerves with a sip. Hit with a  sudden burst of sunshine flavor, you had to set your glass down and exchange it for the entire pitcher. “What is in this!?”

“Right!?” Hypno downed a cup that was too small for him and you poured him a second. “This is Todd’s true evil.”

“I’m hearing a lot about this guy…” Things were moving too fast. 

You’d meant for this to be some casual peek into Mikey’s life. 

Everything felt like it was suddenly happening so fast. 

You didn’t mind the company. 

You’d thought of Hypno off and on since you last saw him. 

Reconnecting with him was a great bonus, but there was something unsettling about how unconcerned you felt. 

“You’ll meet him! He’s…” Hypno scanned the room. “Not here yet or in the back, but he’ll introduce the affair.”

You nodded, sipping more of that citrusy drink.

“Bother! I keep getting distracted. It’s been too long!” Hypno gave an animalistic snort which caused his ears to wiggle. “As I was saying, again, I found this advertisement stuck to my shoe one day and chanced upon this lot. They enforced what I was thinking. There’s more to me than what I do. Some may use it to excuse themselves, but they’re missing the greater message!”

You watched on with wide eyes.

“And bollocks to our partners!” Hypno threw his head high. “We’re our own people who make our own choices, isn’t that right?”

“Well, yeah, b-but…” You hadn’t even bothered asking Donnie to attend.

“Warren can be a bit hardheaded…!” Hypno’s gaze narrowed before he wilted in a fond sigh.

“Love…” You patted Hypno’s arm sympathetically.

“Y/N!” Mikey’s voice cut through the room with an echo.

Suddenly surrounded, he was swamped with a dull murmur of greetings that he desperately tried to dodge. Everyone wanted something from him and he ended up outright screaming in someone’s face that he was busy. It split the crowd like a tide and allowed him to charge over without further interruption.

“See what I mean?” Hypno giggled a whisper to you. “If that’s not a form of so-called ‘evil’ I don’t know what is!”

You tidied up your laughter as Mikey reached you. 

“I did not think about how to say hi!” He announced and wiped his hand as if he was going to offer it to you before thinking better.

“Eh, it’s fine.” You shrugged.

“You know, Ron!?” Mikey sprouted, dispelling the strangeness.

“Hypno, please!” The hippo groaned.

“Mikey, please!” Mikey mocked back.

“I’m sensing a thing…” You gestured with your cup.

“It totally is.” Mikey stared listlessly at you before something over your shoulder caught his eye.

He animated with immense joy and blew right past you.

“Nice to be on good terms with your parents.” Hypno mentioned without malice.

“I think you turned out pretty good without them.” You told him as you turned to see where Mikey had gone.

You heard Hypno babble something emotional that didn’t connect to real words, but all reality seemed to close in at the menacing sight of an enormous fuchsia colored goat man. As if waiting for his spotlight,  the man then belted out a long burst of maniacal laughter. If it weren’t for the fact that Mikey was literally hanging off his arm, you might have been more worried about what you’d actually walked into.

“You finally got that darned pot working?!” Hypno cupped around his mouth to shout. 

“Yes!” The goat turned, revealing a coffee pot in hand by lifting it up high. “No more shall we suffer under wretchedly incorrect brew times!”

“Y/N!” Mikey called and, with a flip like a gymnast on a bar, snatched the pot from the man’s hands.

The goat turned his attention from Hypno to you as if you were some grotesque bug on the hippo’s lapel.

“Seems like you caught the Baron’s eye.” Hypno nudged your side.

“Baron?” You asked and were assaulted with a comment you’d heard before.

What I do know is I came into possession of a yokai known as Baron Draxum.

Hooves beat the wooden gym floor and you were now the Baron’s clear target.

You bumped Hypno who fussed and steadied you, unintentionally blocking your escape.

In a hop and a skip, Mikey reached you first and chirped happily. “Y/N! Draxum! Draxum, Y/N! This is my other dad!”

“Nice to… uh…” You stared up at Draxum as he glared down his nose at you.

“You don’t look like much…” Draxum spoke with a gruff voice.

“I’m really not…” You wilted.

Draxum craned a brow. “Hard to imagine someone so meek would tame one of my more successful creations.”

“Barry.” Mikey put on a bit of heat.

Draxum sighed. “It is nice to meet you. I await picking apart your psyche.”

Mikey shoved him. “He means chat! He can’t wait to chat!” He clucked nervously before continuing to push a stiff Draxum over to the chairs. “When are you going to remember that words mean things!? Different things!”

“My speech is impeccable.” Draxum huffed, allowing himself to be pushed as if he were on a dolly.

“If that’s worn you out then you’re in for quite the night.” Hypno tittered.

“This is…” You blinked at the magician and back to the crowd starting to form.

“A lot and it only gets weirder!” Hypno cheered and started to join while beckoning you to come with.

Staying close to what you mentally dubbed your accountability buddy, you both took seats. Mikey got Draxum in one of his own and shared with him a few stern words before he leapt away to plug the coffee pot in. Draxum folded one leg over the other and stared casual daggers at you while Hypno fed you gossip about the members.

“Hello, friends!” A small mutant appeared on the stage holding a puppy and though there was no one to operate that sort of thing, a spotlight shined upon him. Dressed in a preppy outfit stolen for a 1980’s catalog and with a puppy tucked under one arm, he commanded a silence that fell over the group.

“Look upon him.” Hypno joked in your ear. “You are in the presence of the Spine-Breaking Bandit.”

Your head flew to Hypno’s in complete disbelief.

“Did everyone get some lemonade? It’s a fresh batch!” The furry mutant easily leapt off the stage. ”I got service puppies for everyone tonight! Pet them to your heart’s content! They love that! And to whoever gets Steve, remember to scratch behind the little fellas ears because he just loves that doesn’t he?! Doesn't he!?” Dropping to a baby voice, the so-called Spine Breaker pet the puppy in hand before a dozen more poured out from the stage.

Everyone getting one as described, you soon had a mutt in your lap and Hypno was cooing with one snuggled up in each arm.

“Oh! Everyone!” The mutant clapped on approach. “I’m happy to report we raised $123 dollars for Repo’s surgery! Good job!”

“Enough for a single Tylenol.” Draxum clicked his tongue loudly. “The medical system you humans endure is more tragic than anything I could have concocted. Though I suppose you did survive those plagues….”  

“Yeah, I’ll take you experimenting on me again any day!” A strange hybridized mutant with rabbit ears slapped a monkey arm to his dog-like backwards knee and gave a bright bout of crowing laughter.

“Now, now. Every bit helps.” Mikey approached.

“Sure does!” The bandit chirped.

“Not to put you in the spotlight, Todd’s going to do that anyway, but we have a special guest tonight.” Mikey turned to address you.

Your eyes lost focus at the middle bit of Mikey’s sentence.

Todd.

The man standing next to Mikey was Todd.

The man with the puppies.

The man who made the sunshine lemonade.

The man he went camping with on a yearly basis.

Who ran the Cuddly Cakes Puppy Rescue.

Who founded his own scout troop that regularly won awards. 

He was the Spine-Breaking Bandit.

You turned to catch Hypno’s sleeve in a death grip.

Behind you Mikey was still going through his introduction.

“Tell me you were joking!?” You shouted at the magician. 

Hypno blinked. “Which part?”

“That is not a Spine-Breaking Bandit!” You threw an accusatory finger at Todd.

Todd put a hand to his chest.

“That’s a-that’s a-!” You stuttered, not knowing what kind of mutant he was.

He was a fuzzy one.

He was a soft one.

“Capybara.” Todd offered.

“Capybara! Capybara?!” You turned to stare at him. “That’s the most friend shaped one!”

Todd giggled. “Aw shucks!” 

“I thought you were honest with me!”

Draxum gave a single chuckle that he tried to cover up under a hardened exterior.

Poser.

“I was…” Hypno urged you to calm down.

“Yup!” Todd offered, walking over. “He’s not wrong, ya know!” 

You gave an unhinged stare.

“It’s part of why I’m here today, silly!” Todd reached you and held out a hand. “I know better than anyone about the darkness that can grow inside of your heart!”

You shook his little claws.

“I’ve done a lot of bad things; I killed a lot of people.”

It seemed impossible staring down at this jolly fellow.

“I also decided that wasn’t what I wanted anymore…” Todd released you and you could tell he was addressing the room. “Physically, by mutating, I was given a new lease on life. I didn’t have to run from the police anymore. I could start fresh. I had a choice! So it happened after I broke into the zoo to snap the spine of that worker who’d made fun of my teeth earlier that day, sometimes it happens! Chances come when you least expect them!”

You gawked, stepping back to give him the floor.

“Friend!” Todd looked up at you. “Capybaras have quite the sweet reputation. Who’da thought? Not me! But it was through these fellas and myself that I realized nothing was permanent!” He rounded and everyone’s spirits seemed to raise. “You’ve all heard the story enough. I won’t bother y’all with the details again, you all know! The morals are the same!”

“Yeah!”

“We’re not just evil!”

“They’re just words!” 

Todd smiled. “What I’ve done qualifies me to help. I know what it’s like. I saw what I was capable of. I learned I could choose to be kind, to be happy. To spread joy! How else could I stand before all of you?” He did a turn with his arms spread. “To understand is to have been there or learn by proxy…” With a glance, Todd nodded to Mikey who shot back a grin. “Which brings me to you…”

You tensed.

Your proxy wasn’t one who wanted a spotlight.

In fact, your proxy wasn’t supposed to be affiliated with any of this.

Your proxy wasn’t here. 

“It’s all because of you…”

Could you stop him?

He was the Spine-Breaking Bandit. 

There had been something he’d clearly left out of his transformation.

It very much sounded like he had still killed that zoo attendant.

“… that Hypno joined us!”

You paled before color struck you with a slap.

It seemed so obvious.

Not everything was about Donnie. 

Wasn’t that why you were here?

Hypno chortled, bashful. “Oh, stop!”

You trailed after Todd as he approached the magician. “You know they also say Hippo’s are the deadliest land mammals!”

“What do they know!”

“Hypno would never!”

Hypno smiled at Todd and then you. “Thank you.”

“I really… didn’t… do…” You watched the faces look upon you with warm welcomes. “… anything.”

“No?” Todd spun around to give you his attention. “I don’t think that’s true, friend, but why don’t we listen and see!?”

“It all started when I was a boy…!” Hypno began and everyone took their seats. Watching the meeting, each person took their turn amongst the attentive group. Between short shares, Todd or Mikey would speak up and reaffirm or point out a note in someone’s story. Of the humans there were ex-cons or those wronged by the system. From the mutants they were either deemed evil by existence or had turned to crime out of necessity.

Even Draxum, who had served as a lunch person for several decades now, took a moment to share a moment where he had not killed someone who bumped into him at the grocery store.

They acknowledged kindness in that and you couldn’t help but think that there was.

You didn’t know, but it seemed clear Draxum was working through some long bred hatred.

It made you wonder how old he was. 

What with his plague comment and all. 

It was also painfully obvious that he was only there for Mikey.

His son meant the world to him. 

It made you think that if he had succeeded in his ridiculous plan to raise warriors then it would have never panned out the way he thought.

Parenthood would have softened him more than it already had.

Nothing was so obvious.

As the group came to a close with words to work on, you mused over your partner.

Like Leo, you couldn’t imagine Donnie attending, but that didn’t mean either party was lost.

Each person handled themselves differently.

You were all trying to survive.

There was sure to be some actual darkness out there, but none of it seemed to be around you.

People were standing and you moved with the group for the sake of it.

Hypno ushered you with quick words saying he had to go as Warren was waiting, but he took the time to exchange numbers with you in a blur. Happy with the exchange, you shared a quick hug and the room soon emptied out. Todd was wrangling puppies and Mikey dismissed him saying he had clean-up. Thanks were passed for another week and a few slips were signed until it was just you, Mikey, and Draxum left.

“This would be done instantly with my vines.” Draxum complained, carrying a row of folded chairs.

“And I’m not in the mood to explain to the center why we busted the floor for a ninth time.” Mikey rolled his eyes.

You moved to close up a few chairs on instinct.

“You don’t have to do that!” Mikey called out. “What’dya think?”

You shut the single chair you had and held it to you. “Did you know what I’d get out of this?”

“No?” Mikey stopped with a too large stack that quaked as he thought the point over as if it was new to him. 

Before he could come to a conclusion, there was a domino affect chair slide that took Mikey out with it. 

Draxum folded a hand on his hip as if that proved a point.

“Fine!” Mikey bellowed before bringing up his hands. Within a blink his eyes swam in a sea of orange and you stumbled a bit as basal fear caught you. In an instant, chains shot out around the room and you scrambled back with a little noise. Not necessarily captured, you were encased in a n amalgamation of a laser grid. 

Different than anything you’d seen, they moved in a sort of coordination and you settled realizing the chains were hooking through all the chairs. In a taut pull, they all folded up via gravity and then in a flick, they traveled in a cohesive clicking system until they were placed in a rack on the far side of the room.

“Happy?” Mikey’s power tapered off and he glared at his dad.

Draxum gave a satisfied nod and approached the snack table to grab some coffee from the newly fixed machine.

You stared after him as Mikey watched over.

“He’s impressed by you.”

“Doubt that.” You glanced at Mikey.

Mikey shrugged. “He is! Probably from you calling Todd out. He likes when humans don’t follow what he calls norms. Something about ones with fight in them.”

“I didn’t mean…” You shirked. “I’m sorry.”

“No.” Mikey held his hands up with a sarcastic purse of his lip. “Please, telling someone they aren’t what they are at therapy? Totally cool and normal.”

You put your face in your hands.

“What did you get out of it?” Mikey asked, unwilling to pass forgiveness.

That seemed so very like him. “Something I was feeling about you all.”

“Us?... Wait, me?!”

You nodded out of your hold and let your arms fall to your sides. “You know when I first met you all I thought you were the villains.”

Draxum snorted into his mug.

Mikey shot him a dirty look before returning to you. “Cause Donnie lied to you!”  

You smiled. “Just like your first text. You use his nickname.”

Mikey flushed on contact. “N-nickname? N-no! That-!”

“It’s okay.” You tapped his shoulder. “Well, it’s not. Even I wasn’t allowed to use it when I first met him, but I’m just saying, I get it.”

“In…” Mikey took a deep breath. “In almost every way I’ve accepted it. We’ll never be family. We aren’t.”

You nodded.

“But we are.” Mikey had a hollow finality to his voice that he sent to the empty room. “I’d never say it to his face.”

You gave a little upturn of your lips in understanding.

“You’re dodging my question.” He folded his arms.

“The one about you being villains or about what I thought of tonight?”

Mikey had to study you. “Both!”

“To the first, perspective, to the second… perspective. Same thing in different ways. It’s all about it, I hear.”

Mikey unfurled to give his own quirked grin. “Ain’t that something?”

“Quite.” Draxum walked up, leaving an empty refreshment table in his wake.

Not sure where the trash had gone and questioning if him being a goat meant he’d eaten everything and the tablecloth, you gawked at the man.

“Shall we add a guest to dinner?” Draxum made a show of bending his body to examine Mikey like he was below him.

The folded hands behind his back were rubbed with faint nerves.

Draxum was still trying.

He probably always would be.

“Yeah!” Mikey seemed none the wiser. “Y/N, wanna come eat with us? We do this after every meeting!”

“Um…”

Draxum rose back up and reviewed you benevolently.

“I think… I want to get back home to Donnie, if that’s okay?”

“Oh, sure!” Mikey acted as if he was waving you off, but at the last second, swung his body in so he could  pretend to whisper secret information in your ear. “Good choice, foods never as good here. Now brunch, brunch is the meal ticket you want to get on.”

“Brunch is not available to you as of yet.” Draxum made a decree.

Mikey nodded in a solemn way that said he already knew. “It’s a whole thing.”

“You must prove worthy.” Draxum cracked his neck with a wicked smile.

“I’ll… try to get on the brunch ballot sometime then…” You glanced between the odd pair as Mikey bounced away.  

“Text me when you get home?”

“Sure.” You nodded. “It was nice… meeting you like this. In a less kidnappy way.”

“Yeah!” The turtle chirped.

“You too.” You looked over Draxum with a grin of your own. “Minus the last part, obviously.”

Draxum only gave you a single nod.

“He likes you!” Mikey sang.

Draxum punted Mikey clean across the room with a single strike.  

Mikey’s ring laughter at the act was the only thing that soothed you. 

You also took it as your cue to leave. 

You were never going to get used to that casual super-powered violence. 

It spoke of family, but their strength meant it pushed dangerous limits. 

It must have come with the territory. 

What with them created to be living weapons. 

Donnie was so easily tender you sometimes forgot what he was capable of. 

He also wasn’t raised with brothers. 

It was so strange to think that the cruelest amongst them was the softest. 

You very much wanted to curl up in his arms. 

Heading out into the dark night air, you decided it would be the first thing you’d do before unloading upon him this hell of a night.

NEXT

Always shouting praise to my betas @tmntxthings and @thepinkpanther83

[myjunkisyuzuruhanyu]

look, the truth is Yuma is no Shoma when it comes to musicality, presentation and artistry. sure, he has the best SS in the field now, but in the FS especially his SS actually worked against his overall program, Yuma comes across as too smooth, too fast, did not have any connection with his music whatsoever despite the complexity of his transitions, his step sequence was great but the utter disconnect with everything that come before it also makes the program not easy to receive. meanwhile Ilia skated that FS with full commitment to his music, better showmanship and even a better costume (this is unacceptable IMO. yes its early in the season but letting it's embarrassing to let Ilia have the better costume) and he completely outperformed Yuma from start to finish despite having worse SS. listen to the live audience's reaction, so much louder for Ilia. and these things matter. I think this is still too early of course and there's no way but up for Yuma after this. but Ilia clearly came to Lombardia specifically to discredit Yuma and make an attack on his scores and he accomplished it very successfully.

I don't think Ilia going to Lombardia was an attack on Yuma tbf. This season the main contenders have actually only two places to perform - Lombardia Trophy and Nebelhorn Trophy - with everything else being close to the GP series and Finlandia falling off and US Classics being an ice dance and Pairs event only. And believe me when I say that even as a German Nebelhorn Trophy is a pain in the a** to get to, so I understand why Ilia chose Lombardia. The scoring isn't Ilia's fault either, so to say he had that in mind when performing there is a stretch.

The problem lies with the judges. Judges should not be blinded by super engaging fun programs and if that's the factor for PCS than that's plain wrong. Skating skills should not be awarded for having a program that goes with the audience. And if that would be true that judges would only go for that then skaters would all just do show numbers, but no it's specifically Ilia that is rewarded here for what??? Commitment to the program? The cheering of the audience??? A "better costume than Yuma"??? These are not parts of the PCS. (And if that would be the criteria than what about so many other skaters who commit wholly or had fun programs they don't magically have better PCS. Josefin Taljegard, Kazuki Tomono, Koshiro Shimada come to mind...)

Judges are human so ofc they also fall for things like this, but they are professionals they should award correct points which they don't. And Yuma should be awarded on skating skills even if it makes it "work against" his program where I see your point but I think especially the step sequence shows that he can be sharper. He still needs to work on it, yet the complexity and the skating skills should be rewarded, that's what these compartments of programs are for. And just bc Yuma's is not so much on the nose, doesn't make it a bad or boring program. I also wouldn't say Yuma has no connection to his music but that's probably based on what you think of as "connection to music". Yuma is the better skater and this should be reflected in the PCS and guess what it wouldn't change a thing about the placements to give Ilia just a few points less than Yuma. He would still win with his TES and this is where it's a circle and why ppl are not taking the scoring seriously. High TES should not give you high PCS. End of story.

Ilia will win with his TES there is just no need to make him the most skilled skater in all compartments when he is visibly not. Maybe not visible for every fan but for professional ppl inside the sport and it just gets laughable.

Tbc this is not to bash Ilia in any way he works with what he can do and the judging is not his fault. His technical ability and technique is crazily good. His skating skills however are not that good to be getting 9s. One judge even gave his FS 97!!!! PCS if that's not a clownery than what is.

[freydis-freydat]

Who: @juliangladiator Where: Haven When: Roughly around Neptunalia/After the Winter Ball/Whenever this pup is getting his bearings in Haven Notes: Glad they are finally meeting :' ) Also I wrote this after driving 13 hours on 2 hours of sleep so if it doesn't make sense let me know and I'll edit.

As a new resident of Haven, Freydis could only assume the recent summer storm that had caused a flash flood was a rare occurrence so late in the season. The sudden rush of water from the downpour had washed out a handful of footrails that ran along the shallow river that flowed past the cabin that Queen Aurea had generously gifted Freydis for as long as the human might need it. The sudden disconnect of several forks in the foot trails that served as frequently tread thoroughfares around Haven was perhaps only outdone by a small footbridge being washed away entirely only several hundred paces from Freydis’ front door. For her, it was no problem to ford the river on foot or on horseback. For the long-term residents of Haven, their keen, wolfish senses of directionality made the erasure of the dirt paths inconsequential. 

For newcomers, however, it had caused something of a small calamity. For the past three days, Freydis had found herself waving down at least one wandering wolf trying to regain their sense of direction as she worked the small garden she was cultivating. Each of these wolves was Iskaran, still so new to Haven they were still learning up from down, but the former noble was happy to help them regain their bearings. Today, however, she could tell the lost soul she spotted was not Isakaran. The way he carried himself, his manner of dress, and his overall demeanor lacked a sort of raw edge to it that seemed to characterize Iskaran culture. 

“A bit turned around?” Freydis called from several yards away. The crook of one arm balanced a shallow, woven basket with a cloth over it to shield her small harvest from the midday sun, but her free arm lifted to wave as if to call for his attention. Given he was almost certainly a wolf, he would have sensed her before she uttered a single syllable, but her human habits were hard to stifle. She dug the free hand under the cloth to pluck an apple from the small mix of produce she’d collected. Freydis held it up as if to offer it to him before giving it a gentle, underhand toss in his direction before she closed the majority of the distance between the two of them. “Where are you trying to get to?”

[riddle2d]

mortal whims

Malleus Draconia + GN! Reader , Could be read as romantic or platonic!

━  Malleus often finds himself befuddled by the whims of mortals, especially when you happen to be involved.

R: N/A 

Mortal men were envious creatures. It was human nature, of course, to despise what you could not reach, to fear what you could not understand. The children of Night Raven College were no different. Cruel and selfish, ignorant and incorrigible.

Malleus was a cut above the rest, a prodigy among the best of the best. Malleus was no stranger to isolation, to lone nights of wandering. Even among those who should be his own, he was practically a stranger. How could one connect with those around them when he was so painfully disconnected from everyone he met? Being at the top was a very lonely thing.

It didn’t matter to Malleus that he was alone, of course. How could the future ruler of Briar Valley, a king long awaited by many, be felled by something as trivial as a bout of loneliness? Malleus was above the petty fights and animosity of humans. 

Malleus had no need for a friend. Malleus had no need for an invitation on his table, Malleus had no need for a bright smile and someone to be pleased with his presence.

He found, however, that mortals often did not care for the whims of others.

Malleus had no need for a friend, but you had entered his life with the grace of a raging bull, sporting an ignorant smile and complete and utter disregard for the politics of his world.

“So, you won’t give me a name… Hornton, then!” You had proclaimed, grinning at him with a smile that would have blinded the best of men.

And the best of men you were, so kind even when you had been treated with nothing but disdain by the majority of the students you had come across.

Cold distance and polite words, stiff stance and detached apathy. None of this seemed to distance you from him. In fact, it seemed to make you do nothing but reach more. 

Malleus had no need for an invitation on his table. But you saw his walls, sky high and impenetrable, and struck them down with little more than a smile and an invitation to a contest. A contest you were the manager for.

Malleus had no need for a bright smile and someone to be pleased with his presence. But the grin on your face, unshakable and utterly overjoyed at his attendance despite the terror on the faces of your fellow contestants...

Malleus found that perhaps he had needed this after all.

━ I don’t know about you guys, but I’ve always viewed Malleus as juuuust a lil bit arrogant? IDK, with his sheltered upbringing and how the other people in the game treat him, I’ve always seen him as the kind of guy who’s not used to being told no ^_^” because who would tell THE malleus no? also if it’s not clear, he’s kind of unreliable as a narrator here?? lilia and silver and sebek DO care for him but i imagine he probably doesn’t truly understand that. I don’t really know how to write malleus, so this is good practice!! im doin my best

[aquaburst3]

I've seen TikToks where people dunk on Rollo and Honest Fellow, and others, mainly in the Spanish and JP fandoms, being confused about this reaction. To play devil's advocate, the main reason is how the game handled them and that they're poorly written characters. I can pinpoint a few reasons why that is...

Honest Fellow: His motivations to make him sympathetic and his actions are at odds with one another.

In that arc, Honest Fellow gleefully turns people into puppets to sell off to the highest bidder, even hinting at some people using them for sexual pleasure in the JP version. Why is he doing this? Because the school system is hard and he wants to get back at rich people. Yes, really. That's one of the dumbest villain motivations I ever heard! How does that justify what he did or put his actions into perspective? He's a human trafficker! By making the reason why he's doing this something so disconnected from the story makes him seem like a sociopathic monster on par with the Coachman. It's like if someone murdered your pet and said they did that because had a hard time in school. That's horrible, but that has nothing to do with that action nor does that make you like that more any more.

(Personally, if I was writing this arc, I would've made his boss the TWST Coachman, who is threatening to turn Giddel into a puppet if he doesn't do what he says. That makes far more sense, and makes his actions more understandable. I think a lot of us had shitty bosses that forced us to do things we disagreed with or would do a horrible act to protect a loved one. It makes him more like his movie counterpart due to Honest John and Gideon being threatened by the Coachman to convince Pinocchio to come to Pleasure Island, despite Honest John thinking it was fucked up. Idk, that's just me.)

Rollo: While he's better written than Honest Fellow due to his motivations at least making sense, he's still not the best written character either. Shitty and lazy character name aside, being a woobie and not adapting the character in a...questionable manner.

A woobie, for those of you who don't know, is an older fandom term used to describe bland pretty characters with a tragic backstory that the author expects you to feel sorry for them and get away with everything. Oh, boy. Does he fit that definition in spades. He's pretty bland. His only real standout personality traits are that he hates magic and the fae, prideful, traditional and possibly athletic. That's it. He has a sad backstory where his brother died in a fire after his magic got out of control. Fine, that's cliche, but it works. Hell, it's kinda clever in a sense where it's inspired by the Hunchback of Notre Dame off-broadway musical. Characters like Idia point out the hypocrisy in Rollo's ideology and that he is really doing this thanks to his own guilt for his brother's death, which is a good thing. The problem is, outside of him being boring as a character, that despite wanting to suck out all of the magic in the world, he got away with it scott free, and his only form of "punishment" was living with the guilt of knowing everyone thinking that he was some sort of hero…despite Malleus wanting revenge on him five minutes earlier. (I don't get it either.) I think a lot of this problem plays into a reoccurring one the game has a whole—the character stagnation and Yana's utter unwillingness to let them face any consequences for their actions. Rollo is also prejudice against the fae if him covering his nose whenever he's around one is to be concerned, which is also never addressed.

I think the way he was handled was in poor taste. Frollo is one of the most realistic villains in the Disney canon and is triggering to a lot of westerners due to his ties with the Catholic church. Unlike the other Great Seven, there's no way to possibly turn his story to make him seem like a hero nor are their any admirable traits. The fact of the matter is that by making Noble Bell honoured after Frollo, who is such a realistic character and is tied up in a lot of religious baggage for westerners, the game is glorifying his actions to an extent. While I know Christianity is a minor religion in Japan, so adding Christian elements to "spice things up" is common in anime, the developers know that the game is being distributed internationally and should've known better. The game should've made Rollo like the staff where he has no dorm or school honoured after his counterpart. That would've lessened the impact a lot.

Both of them: Like I said with Rollo, they completely get away with their crimes, despite everything they did. That is asinine. All actions have punishments, and that goes for them. Plus, the NRC boys are based on villains! Wouldn't they want to exact their revenge on them, especially in Honest Fellow's case who wanted to turn them into living household items and sex dolls! You are based on villains, act like it!

(This is also a huge problem with the game as a whole, but I wrote other posts about that before, so I don't wanna get into it here.)

So, yeah. There reasons why many English speaking fans dislike or despise these characters. Hell, if anything the reason why they are so beloved in JP and Spanish fandom circles is more bizarre to me. I get it. Honest Fellow is hot. But outside of that...Really? So I guess it goes both ways and we can be baffled at each other's choices. xD

[lorz-ix]

God help me (no pun intended)

A bit of a preamble is in order for the latest marathon I guess. Years ago, I watched the very first Hellraiser movie and thought it fucked, it was awesome, really well executed, definitely a cut above your average horror flick. Some time later, I saw 2 and 3 back to back. 2 was a step down after 1, didn't love it, it was the usual lore dump sequel, I suppose some people might like that. 3 was a very average slasher with a laughably different tone and the perfect sign that this franchise would not meet the expectations that it set with its cinematic debut, so I decided not to watch any more.

So here we are. I was bored and morbidly curious. One of my roomies asked if I knew much about the franchise and if the recent reboot was alright, because he knew I owned the first 3, but I couldn't tell him much about it, just what I already said in the paragraph above. I took the risk and decided to catch up with the franchise. Spoiler: it didn't end well.

Hellraiser: Bloodline (1996)

Jesus Christ. Oh my god. It's so fucking bad. I hate it so much. Hellraiser IV, in terms of tone and the story it presents, genuinely feels like a children's movie, except there's gore in it. I never liked the "lore reveals" in the series because I feel they take too much away from the mystery and the answers are never interesting enough, but holy fucking shit. Straight up showing us that the otherworldly Configuration is just a box made by a cartoony guy is so pathetic.

I hate the goofy characterization of the villains, I hate the characters that the story follows, I hate the story as a whole, and I particularly find the conclusion to be the stuff of parodies. It's like the whole franchise did a speedrun of the slasher decline in record time. Spectacularly bad.

Hellraiser: Inferno (2000)

While I consider 3 and 4 to be the relatively memorable, slasher-y entries in the series, 5 kickstarts the "extremely forgettable era". Not quite as insultingly bad, but they become progressively detached from the Hellraiser concept, often feeling like you could change the macguffin and the monsters for literally anything other horror item and it would work exactly the same.

I didn't quite hate Inferno, it was mostly a boring and unmemorable detective movie. The concept/twist is something I could almost say I liked if it was part of a better movie.

Hellraiser: Hellseeker (2002)

Perhaps the most interesting entry in this dark era? This one goes whole hog on the idea of an unreliable narrator/POV character, which is alright, there's more horror/tension scenes and stuff. The terrible issue is that the story so often gets derailed into random horror scenarios only for them to be hallucinations in the end, it becomes quite annoying. Similarly to the previous one, it's a concept that could work, I almost like it, but the execution isn't it.

Hellraiser: Deader (2005)

Utter dogshit, in my honest opinion. The thinnest excuse for a connection to the original lore of the series, only to deliver a massively boring and wacky movie that once again would feel completely disconnected from everything else if Pinhead wasn't there. It's insufferable.

Hellraiser: Hellworld (2005)

You know what? This one's so silly I actually forgive it. It goes back to being slasher-y, there's more stuff going on in less pretentious ways, and the premise is particularly laughable, so I can see someone who isn't a masochist enjoying it as a horror-comedy thing. "Evil goes online", out of context, sounds like the epitome of a franchise being milked and flanderized beyond repair, but you know shit was bad when this was actually a step up.

Hellraiser: Revelations (2011)

An attempt at going back to a formula closer to the original, with a human drama in the foreground and the cenobites lurking in the background, helping flesh out the story and adding some nice dressing. However, this attempt was quite poor. In theory, or if you look at a summary, it sounds okay, but if you actually watch it, it's yet again some forgettable slop that was seemingly rushed on a shit budget just so the production company could keep the rights to the franchise for longer.

Hellraiser: Judgment (2018)

Another whatever of a film, what a shocker. Some other murder mystery with actors that seem to not even want to be there, and with another twist ending that reveals more insane lore for people who care more about the why than the quality of the end product. Instead of gore and cenobites, this one boldly chooses to contain mostly gross shit and random characters to shock and disgust the audience even more cheaply.

I did kinda like the guy with the sunglasses though. I wish he was part of a better movie.

Hellraiser (2022)

And so we arrive at the main reason why I even started catching up with the series. A complete modern reboot that starts over from scratch. From what I read before watching, apparently the reason why they wanted to "remake" the first film was to make one that stuck more closely to the original novel by Clive Barker. But I'm not too familiar with that, so I can't comment on it.

It's actually very different from anything that came before, especially the first movie. I think it's pretty good, I definitely like it overall. I could see a bunch of nerds whining because it's different or whatever, but uhh... I don't care. Pinhead and the Configuration looking mostly the same over every past movie didn't make them any less shit. I'm extremely open to them trying literally anything else, especially if there's some actual drive to the project, other than making a quick buck and keeping the IP.

I think it would speak volumes if I said it's the only movie other than the very first one that I'd genuinely recommend. I do still think the original hasn't been beat, maybe not everyone will like the reboot, but it's worth giving it a shot.

The Hellbound Heart (1986)

I lied, bitch! I did actually read the book! Ha, got your ass.

I genuinely do not understand, not in the slightest bit, why they said the 2022 film would stick closer to the source material. I understood the novel was written as a screenplay for the 1987 movie, and after reading, yeah I can confirm that's what it is.

Aside from some minor concessions, and I guess mostly the way the cenobites are presented, the movie was a faithful adaptation of the book. In fact, these small, almost irrelevant differences aren't adapted any more faithfully in the "remake". I really don't get where those statements about faithfulness were coming from, I truly don't.

If you have seen Hellraiser 1987, there's not much of a reason to read a book that will tell you the same story, other than plain curiosity. It's a fine short novel though! A total shame that it led to one of the fastest and lowest downfalls in horror movie history.

[dykenav]

[this post is about the succession SEASON ONE finale bc I’m ten years behind]

anyway like the way denial was the emotional undercurrent of everything in this episode…. starting with tom telling greg to shut up so he can block out the truth of shiv’s infidelity, to roman and the launch and just immediately shutting it off and pretending like it didn’t happen, and us as the viewer feeling the absolute horror realizing that people could have DIED, and seeing the utter disconnect in Roman, watching a livestream on his phone like it’s a video game, going back into this huge fucking party, the party itself being the physical place to symbolize the utter isolation and social disconnection of the filthy rich from the rest of the world. the tension building while we’re like jesus christ did he fucking kill people?? and then he finds out oh no, it’s just two thumbs and an arm, what a RELIEF, and we as the viewer vicariously accepting that relief as a lesser horror while still seeing the horror. the way it mirrors the horror of the first episode when roman rips up a fucking MILLION DOLLAR check in front of a poor kid. reminding us that while we might relate to their human foils and emotions, the absolute SCALE of their faults and ignorances have such massive, unfathomable consequences by virtue of their power. and then you have. fucking kendall. and the kid in the car. and it’s the exact same situation. and the thing that makes it so fucking VISCERAL is that it doesn’t jump cut to the next day. we stay with him the whole fucking time as he walks away from that scene. we watch him break back into his hotel, wash himself like fucking lady macbeth. make his way back to the party. dance with his fucking kids. the dissonance is so fucking strong. it’s like coming back to omelas after seeing the tortured child. what can you do but pretend? and tell me you haven’t fucking been there before. tell me you haven’t been at that party, where something horrible and unspeakable is happening inside of you but you have to dance and smile anyway. we all know what it’s like to be in denial. it’s human. and yet the consequences of these people’s denial, by virtue of their power, is so vast and sickening, that it becomes inhuman. they’re not inherently evil people, but the circumstances of their wealth and privilege takes their shortcomings and corrupts them into poison and bombs. all of that accumulating to logan psychologically exploiting kendall in his moment of trauma, kendall breaking down and crying like a kid, and of course he would, ANYONE would, but he’s not anyone, these people aren’t anyone. I don’t mean they’re not human, I mean the opposite. they are human children playing an elaborate game of pretend with the rest of the fucking world as their dolls. they’re not masterminds. they’re toddlers demanding to be loved and blowing shit up in the process. and it’s easy to watch and say, wow that is so fucked up. but who am I if I act like I can fully separate myself from this story and be like “welp, anyway! back to bed!” without recreating that same denial? who are any of we to act like we’re not in some way complicit to the horror of the world when in order to function and live our lives we have to completely compartmentalize the part of our brain that comprehends the news? I’m not saying a normal person is in any way shape or form as responsible as a billionaire, nor am I saying there’s any moral answer to this. I’m just saying……….. fuck