#this kids been suicidal his entire fucking life and no one helped him until it was too late

[leviathiane]

This is what i mean by Killua and Gon's stubbornness being the same level of willpower, stemming from different desires-- Gon is scarily goal-oriented. He doesn't care what happens to him, so long as he comes out of it the victor in his own head.

The cost doesn't matter, so long as it doesn't conflict with/cancel out his result.

That's terrifying.

[carulenes]

an analysis of wolfwood’s characterization in trigun stampede as well as his connection to vash (+ why i believe he’s likely much older than we think)

okay i’ve been thinking abt this since eps 10 or 11 were released (this show became my special interest the second it dropped if i'm being completely honest) but its been scratching at my brain ever since i read the sakuracon radio interview and since i haven’t seen anyone talking abt this yet i figured i may as well because it’s clear they really did pull very extensively from the manga and i really am loving how they adapted his character. also i occasionally keep seeing the “tristamp wolfwood is a kid/is 14-15” takes which i need to at least try to help put to rest bc they make no sense given his other iterations and would actively make the story worse.

a quick tldr of my main points before i get on my very long winded soapbox:

wolfwood in trigun stampede has been used as an undying, unkillable soldier by the eye of michael for decades.

rollo as a character, as opposed to monev the gale, was designed specifically as a metaphor for wolfwood’s backstory.

wolfwood and vash are written to be literal complements to one another.

I literally don’t think I have the space to talk abt all my thoughts, and ofc these are all my personal thoughts so any and all of what i’m saying could be wrong, but direct analysis of eps 4-7 (as I think they’re the most important) and discussion of his trajectory in general under the cut (obvious spoilers for the show but also the manga as well as tw: discussions of suicide/suicidal ideation as well as the general tw list for the show's graphic content):

Starting first with a side point that Wolfwood was never a child at any point he was with Vash during thecourse of the story, including the manga. He has always been a man in his 20s, with trimax ww having the appearance of being in his 30s or 40s. It is absolutely crucial to his and Vash’s characterizations, as well as their entire dynamic together, that Wolfwood is an adult. Could make an entire separate post about this, but I feel like starting here is important.

Onto the sakuracon japan radio interview. The team gave a LOT of interesting insight into the development of the show, but one specific point stood out to me:

This is important, because I definitely missed it during the show’s initial run, but I think it’s REALLY obvious once you know what you’re looking for, and is a big factor in why I think he’s likely older than we realized.

————

EP 4: These are the very first lines that are said about him in the show, and the very first time we see him, he is absolutely exhausted:

We know that at this point, Wolfwood is likely on his way to Jeneora Rock to meet up with Vash to fulfill his contract...until Vash and co. quite literally slam into him (and his life) unexpectedly, nearly killing him with their van. He probably should’ve died except… he’s on his feet almost instantly, able to walk perfectly fine and being a jackass as though he didn’t get launched halfway across the desert by a moving vehicle. Which is… odd, naturally.

When they try to find help and instead find the dead couple, he specifically mentions that he isn't a priest like he's been in other iterations. He's now an undertaker, someone meant to guide others through their deaths:

His personality is hard to tap down. He's goofy and childish and downright unlikeable, and there's a hint of something lurking deeper, something menacing and potentially dangerous. So much so that Roberto is on edge the entire time their group is together after being swallowed by the Grand Worm, and flat out tells Vash that Wolfwood is untrustworthy and likely an assassin, "a man who can kill with a smile on his face". And Vash’s response is… really fucking weird, given how long the two have known each other:

not to mention he's wearing sunglasses Wolfwood is rightfully very ??? in response because, what the fuck is he talking about, and why is he so genuine about it, they just met???

Fast forward to a bit later, when Wolfwood is like "hey man, you really shouldn't be so trusting. I could've shot you in the back several times now." To which Vash is like "but you didn't, though." And Wolfwood is even more confused because is this guy stupid???

And then it's time for the final act: Wolfwood reveals his Punisher, destroying the Grand Worm while giving the illusion of taking out Zazie as well. Meryl was informed by someone that Wolfwood had been the one to save them all, but when she tries to thank him, he immediately shifts the subject, being annoying and arguably completely unlikeable. Roberto points out that Wolfwood had lied about who he was, trying to get Vash to realize that he still can't be trusted, and again Vash shoots it down: "We're alive because of him."

Wolfwood showed his role as the Punisher without hesitation, and not only was Vash not really phased by it, but he actually seemed to be inspired by him, stopping his self-destructive tendencies and even repeating his own words back to him. And that's the moment we finally learn his name in the show:

But then, almost immediately, we have a complete reversal of his scene with Vash in the Worm. It’s also of note that Zazie always specifically says human lives:

————

EP 5: One of the most important episodes in this discussion, and it starts with the name alone, "Child of Blessing". Here’s a very general summary:

A young boy in a much less than ideal living situation is chosen to be 'a blessing upon the world through his sacrifice', which turns out to secretly be mutilative experimentation on children in search of a subject compatible with a mysterious medicine that can heal any injury. The meds warp him, morph him into something that doesn't even appear to be human. He tries to return home, but his mother, the only family he knows and loves, is terrified of him. She calls him a monster, and the boy finds himself struggling to articulate who he is. Then, he wanders alone alone without purpose in that unchanging altered body, a body that can withstand lethal amounts of damage directly because of the meds, for at least 20 years. All he has is a single name: Vash the Stampede, the person who promised to save him, and the one person who managed to bring back his consciousness in the end, if only for a moment.

The moment Nicholas sees Rollo regenerate is the second the switch flips. He instantly demands to know what the fuck is up with him, and when Vash responds telling him that he was too late to give him the medicine he needed, Wolfwood shuts down, because he recognizes himself. From this moment until the rest of the episode, we are no longer seeing Nicholas D. Wolfwood; we're seeing Nicholas the Punisher.

Vash continues to push Rollo to remember who he is, while Nicholas continuously says that there's no way to save him, that he's already a monster now. In the final moments, Nicholas inevitably feels tasked with Rollo's death like the undertaker he is, and when Vash angrily demands to know why he took the shot, his response is:

When discussing Rollo's killer, Elendira refers to Nicholas by name, but Conrad specifically states that no, he is the Punisher.

In vol 10 of the manga, Vash thinks to himself: “I met a strange man. Just as I thought we had come to an understanding, I found that our core beliefs were opposed to each other. I was used to such situations, but I wonder how he felt.”

————

EP 6: This episode builds directly upon the foundations set by the episode prior. Child of Blessing ended with Rollo being referred to repeatedly as a monster, and this episode begins with Nicholas in the middle of completing a kill. Right before he does, his victim gets one final glance at his assailant, an inhuman looking executioner, and calls him a monster… directly because he will not die. He’s also been shown knocking back meds like tequila shots in tristamp, which we all know was NOT possible in the manga. During the flashback scene, Nicholas is literally called the Child of Blessing.

We see a very similar sequence with Nicholas that we saw with Rollo; the horrific torture, the bodily mutilation (during which Conrad specifically mentions that the drug will heal all damage done the body, as well as rebuild and strengthen the cells), and the attempt to return home:

Something different happens with Nicholas, though. Nicholas can't go home; he’s literally yanked away from his chance at freedom by Legato. Nicholas can’t go home, likely ever again in his mind, because Hopeland Orphanage and the Eye of Michael represent two fundamentally different ideals.

Hopeland (and thus Livio) is exactly like its name for Nicholas: it is is land of hope, the only place in the world where Wolfwood was allowed to exist freely. When Nicholas was taken by EoM, Wolfwood began to die.

The entirety of the EoM is shrouded in imagery of death and rebirth, specifically in regards to humanity. Humanity in this case has a dual meaning: humanity as a species, and humanity as a concept. Their philosophy is that the end justifies the means in that humans in this form will be preserved and would likely live exceedingly longer lives but, as repeatedly mentioned, there are side effects.

Aging and death are integral parts of the human experience, the two aspects of life that we ALL experience regardless of circumstance. Can you be human without humanity?

The message behind these two episodes is to show that the process of becoming part of the EoM is a metaphorical crucifixion symbolizing the death of one’s humanity. And Nicholas is interesting, because he’s almost the perfect specimen in their eyes and is treated as such. Almost. The only thing holding him back are the two strands of humanity he has left, both which are nearly destroyed in the very next episode.

————

EP 7: In the previous episode, during the animated flashback of Nicholas and Livio, we see a few scattered scenes of other people living at the orphanage. Interestingly, while almost all of the children are seen with very sparse detail (or even none really at all), there is one person, the caretaker, whose face we get a pretty clear picture of. At the very beginning of this episode, we have the first and only shot of the inside of the orphanage in the usual style. While none of the children are familiar and actually aren’t incredibly distinguishable from one another, there is one figure in the room with recognizable hair, but looks considerably older than in the flashback:

During the majority of their interactions, you don’t see Nicholas and Livio interacting with any of the other children. They are simply a background, a set piece to the story and a representation of just how other they were forced to become.

This episode features them fighting each other, dealing each other what should be mortal wounds, but somehow remain standing, as though they’re perfectly fine. As if on cue, the soldiers stationed call them both monsters and run away in fear.

But Vash doesn’t run from the danger. He runs towards it.

Nicholas tries to stop him, and all he gets in return is “he’s important to you, isn’t he?” as though that’s enough. But it is enough for Vash. And Nicholas doesn’t know what to do with that.

Nicholas comes dangerously close to giving up, to giving into his role as the Punisher and killing the last bit of Wolfwood to do so, but it’s Vash who stops him. He diverts his shot and, instead of hurting Livio, literally frees Nicholas from Legato and Zazie’s trap. Vash tells him to make him remember, and Nicholas thinks it’s bullshit… until he doesn’t.

And when he finally relents, when he tries to emulate what the silly blonde idiot keeps screaming at him about… It works. For a moment, but Livio does wake up for a moment. Nicholas hadn’t been able to see Rollo, but he did see this. And he really doesn’t know what to do about it.

To drive the point home, Livio drives a bullet into his own head and falls to the ground in a scene very reminiscent of Rollo’s death… but is implied to still be alive. With him saved, now it’s time for Hopeland. And this is when the narrative really turns a focus to the balance between Nicholas and Vash.

The group is half convinced that they’re about to die snd that the town will be destroyed when, all of a sudden, it’s Nicholas who’s yelling that they have to do something. Because despite all the noise Nicholas makes about self-sacrifice and calling Vash a weirdo, he’s directly inspired by his energy, which is proven correct when Vash is the first one to side with him.

Then, somehow despite the odds, the two of them manage to work together to stop the ion cannon. Which should have been impossible. And because of this, Nicholas is finally willing to give Vash the chance to take the lead on things.

When Vash and Wolfwood discuss their plan to save Hopeland, and after they argue about which method is the correct one, the conversation they have is probably the clearest depiction of Nicholas’ inner struggle:

Nicholas: Have it your way. Just for today. I do owe you one… but if the orphanage doesn’t survive this, I’ll hurt you so bad you’ll wish you were dead before I kill you.

Vash: Wolfwood…

Nicholas: Shut up! I’m the Punisher! I’m not like you… I’m Nicholas the Punisher…

He murmurs the last line as though he’s trying to convince himself. He uses his persona as the Punisher almost like a mask, like a cat puffing up and hissing to deter predators. It’s a defense mechanism, and a trauma response. Except.. it still doesn’t work, because the entire time Vash is simply not listening. Regardless of what Nicholas says, Vash does not stop fighting Nicholas on the title that was forced on him by the EoM and, in fact, blatantly rejects it. And the moment Nicholas finishes speaking, when he declares himself to be the Punisher, the episode’s title card finally appears: Wolfwood.

It's a direct representation of this panel of Nicholas' inner monologue from the manga:

——

Nicholas and Vash’s roles as each other’s complements is emphasized very deliberately when the two work to stop the sand steamer from smashing into Hopeland. These screenshots occur one directly after the other:

Another detail the team mentioned often during the interview was attention to use of color. In color theory, blue and orange are complementary colors: hues that are opposite each other on the color wheel but, when used together, come together to create harmony and balance. Additionally, Vash is the character typically associated with warm hues, while Nicholas is paired with colder ones; with the colors flipped, it’s almost as if they are literally mirror images of each other.

The two are in the same position, in the middle of similar actions, both drawing strength from that which makes them “other” in order to work together to protect a common goal. And once again, miraculously, they succeed, able to do together what neither could ever have done together.

This mirror motif is even clearer when comparing these respective scenes from each of their respective backstory episodes:

For Nicholas and Vash, on top of sharing such a crucial common thread in their backstories, often in the show they are seen together, either side by side or back to back. Often they’re shown doing the same thing at the same time, almost as though they’re moving as one. And they consistently save each other over and over again, with Nicholas acting to save Vash physically, and Vash working to protect Nicholas’ psyche. Vash refuses to let anyone continue to see themselves as a monster, as lesser than, in much the same way Nicholas refuses to let anyone else be used as one.

They are a pair, a unit working together to create a force that is stronger than the sum of its parts.

They are both “other”, they are both different, and they both seek to protect the things they love and care about despite the excruciating pain it can put them through.

Nicholas and Vash’s entite dynamic is basically “I don’t understand you, but I recognize you. I recognize myself in you. And somehow, that’s enough for me to trust you.”

————

So with all this in mind, here is how I’ve come to understand Nicholas’ arc throughout tristamp:

When we first meet Nicholas D. Wolfwood we meet a weary man longing for death to save him, longing to be free from the purposelessness of his life but knowing the hope is futile. He works for the Eye of Michael as an assassin against his will and has for God knows how long. Not only is he no longer a priest, but he’s no longer religious at all, having no belief in God at all and a particular disdain for the false promises and hopes of salvation that are portrayed by it. He doesn’t care about the clothes he wears, whether he looks messy, whether it’s suited for the desert, because he literally doesn’t care about anything, really. He has no home, and can never go back to the orphanage— there’s likely no one left there that he knows anyway, and even of there were, they wouldn’t recognize the monster he’s become. Nicholas is tired, he’s angry, he’s potentially depressed. He fights impractically, sometimes leaving himself open to attacks he could probably block with his Punisher, but he just doesn’t care. He’s just here to do his job, which is to escort his piece of shit CEO’s assumedly equally piece of shit brother to him so they can destroy the world together and he can hopefully die off in peace.

Until he actually meets Vash, and he’s… really fucking weird. He’s dumb and naive and acts like he knows Nicholas on some deep level after they’ve just met, but… he’s not a bad guy. Just another crybaby who doesn’t understand the world. He can see the Punisher and not be frightened by it. That means something, means enough that he feels that he can introduce himself now. He still doesn’t know how to handle kindness, so he deflects whenever it’s shown to him, making irreverent jokes and being annoying in order push people away. But then he meets Rollo and has a flashback to himself. He learns that Vash is no stranger to false promises, has sold the same thing to the kid who ended up just like him, and yeah, Vash is no better than the EoM. He talks a big game but doesn’t actually know anything. Nicholas kills Rollo out of mercy because it’s what he wishes could be done to him; every day of living his life is torture.

But then his hometown and childhood best friend are suddenly in danger. He’d completely forgotten what it felt like to have something to lose, to protect. And without planning for it, Vash also becomes something to protect, because even if he doesn’t act like it, Nicholas desperately wants to believe in him. He doesn’t want the EoM to be right. But the feeling of having something to protect is terrifying, because it means you have something to lose. Nicholas gets incredibly stressed out by this, because it’s been so long that he doesn’t even remember what it feels like. But it’s enough to get him, for likely the first time in a very long time, to hope. And it’s Vash who helps him so that he’s able to hang on to that hope for a little while longer.

He still can’t get too excited, because he hasn’t actually finished his job yet. Before he does, though, he sees Vash’s scars (which was a deliberate choice, as in both the manga AND the og anime this scene went to the girls) and wow, if it weren’t for the regenerative properties of the drug, he would likely look the same. He drops Vash off with Knives and knows that Vash will likely be killed, but he’s also expecting to die himself in the fallout, so it doesn’t matter, really. Except for some reason, it does a bit. And then, yet again, Vash miraculously doesn’t die, and in fact changes the game and actually looks like he might stand a chance against Knives, and is clearly willing to die to do it.

And then July is destroyed. But, miraculously, Nicholas isn’t dead. He still finished the contract, but now… now what?

The show began with Nicholas at his lowest, and ends with Vash at his lowest point. And Nicholas owes him one.

————

INCREDIBLY long story short, it really is clear that they weren’t kidding, the team really drew SO MUCH inspiration from the themes trimax it’s unbelievable and I really really think we’re in for something incredible during the second phase. I also think it’s gonna hurt like a bitch.

[her-power]

Last Chance to Dance (Part Four: Rockstar! e.m. x fem reader)

🚨🛑🔞18+++ MINORS DNI - YOU WILL BLOCKED🚨🛑🔞 TRIGGER/CONTENT WARNING (For entire series): Rockstar! Addict! Sweet! Mean! Eddie, smut, unprotected p+v, fluff, fingering (f receiving), masturbation, oral (m+f receiving), heavy drug use, descriptions of IV drug use, swearing, talks of anxiety, panic disorder, mental illness, talks of suicide

Eddie Munson Masterlist

Last Chance to Dance Part One Part Two Part Three

Summary: Full Summary on Part One

Word Count: 8.1k

I wake up to the smell of French toast coming from the kitchen; I smile, realizing what day it is. I groan, feeling the muscles in my back stretch and my spine pop. I throw on my jeans and exit the room. I find you in the kitchen, you were dancing to Prince on the radio, in an oversized band tee, not noticing me behind you. I realize the shirt you’re wearing is mine, a shirt that I haven’t seen in almost twenty years. 

“Merry Christmas.” I say and you yelp, awkwardly stumbling back into me as the spatula falls out of your hand. I hold your waist and you're laughing loudly. 

“Jesus Christ. You scared me!” You cup my face and kiss my lips softly. “Merry Christmas.” 

I smile against your lips, gripping your waist. “I was wondering what happened to this shirt.” 

You blush, winking at me. “You left it at my house.” 

“I’m sure I did.” I laugh, gently patting her ass as she goes back to cooking breakfast. I peek out the windows, the snow was pretty melted already. It seemed warmer than usual. I feel my phone ringing in my pocket, and I see that it’s Ted, I smile when I answer. 

“Merry Christmas, Teddy.” I say with a grin.

I hear him giggle. “Merry Christmas, dickhead. How you doing?” 

I glance over at you, and you look up, smiling sweetly at me. “Better than I have been.” 

“Oh yeah? Why is that?” 

“Remember the girl?” I whisper. “The one I told you about.” 

“The girl…the girl. Oh!” He laughs loudly. “Wow, man. That’s amazing. Are things…are things well…?”

“Things are incredible.” I grin and I pull my hair up in a half pony. 

“Good. I love to hear it.” He coughs a little. “Happy seven months by the way.” 

I glance at the date on my phone, he was right. I was seven months clean. I’ve never had that much time under my belt. “Wow. I didn’t even realize…thanks, man.” 

“I’m proud of you, kid.” He says, and I hear him let out another hacking cough. “The boys talked about meeting at the studio, Gareth told me you’ve been writing?” 

“Uhhh. Been preoccupied to finish, but yeah.” I smile. “I haven’t sang anything yet, it’s been a while.” 

“You know whatever you do it’s gonna come out amazing.” He’s coughing again, and I can’t help but feel a little worried. 

“You alright, Teddy?” 

“Yeah, I’m fine. Wrong pipe is all.” He laughs. “Where you at? East coast or cabin?”

“Boston. I have to go back to the cabin in a few days for my next therapy session.” I had almost forgotten until now, I would’ve been fucked if I missed it. 

“Okay, why don’t we plan to meet at the Boston studio after New Years? Bring your girl.” 

My girl. 

“Okay.” I smile. “What are you doing today?”

“Nellie is coming to town with the grandkids, been some time since I’ve seen them.” I can hear a smile in his voice. “Julie is coming too.” His ex-wife. 

“Ohhhh.” I grin goofily at the phone. “Rekindling things hopefully?” 

He laughs. “We’ll see. Enjoy your day, Eddie. Love you.” 

“Thanks, man. Love you too.” 

I hang up, you ask me who was on the phone, and I tell you it was the man who saved my life. 

We had finished breakfast, had light conversation about the plans for the day. Gareth had video chatted me, and when he saw your face on the screen, I thought he was gonna pass out. You had taken the phone from me, laughing and talking about things from the past. Gareth kept saying “oh my god, oh my god” which was weird because, he was the one who gave you my phone number. I had shrugged it off, he was probably excited that it actually happened, that we were in the same room together after so many years. When she had given the phone back to me, Gareth had smiled large. 

“You look good, dude.” He grins, sipping his coffee. “Email me that song you wrote, I want to add the melody notes.” 

“It’s not finished yet.” I sigh. “I don’t even know if I want to record it, it’s different from our regular stuff.” 

“Nothing wrong with being different, didn’t you tell me that?” He smirks at me, and I roll my eyes. 

“It’s…it’s almost like a ballad. I guess, I don’t know. I started it in rehab and then picked away at it when I hid out in my cabin. There are definitely parts that we can add the heavy stuff to, I don’t know.” I laugh awkwardly. 

“Dude, stop being hard on yourself.” He smiles at me. “I’m sure it’s great. Go enjoy your day with her and I’ll see you soon.” 

“Alright, man.” I smile. “Merry Christmas, idiot.”

He gives me the middle finger. “Merry Christmas, bitch.” 

I hang up, putting my phone on silent and look up at you. You were coming towards me with a wrapped present in your hand.

“What?” I laugh. “No, sweetheart. I didn’t get you anything. Why did you get me something?” 

“Relax. I’ve actually had this forever.” You sit down next to me, curling your legs under you. “I got it for you before…well, before everything.” 

You hand it to me, and I can tell you were telling the truth because the corners on the wrapping paper had wear on them. I stare into your eyes, trying to comprehend. “Come on I’ve waited fifteen years to give this to you.” You laugh and I smile at you, tearing the paper. My eyes immediately fill with tears, remembering. 

It was a music transcript notebook that I had my eyes set on at a record shop back then. It was 200 pages of smooth paper, leather bound; I remember this being expensive. 

“This…you got me this?” I look in your eyes and you nod. “How…what? Why?”

You shrug and give me a sad smile. “Because I loved you.” 

I rub my palm over my trembling lips, running my fingers over the pages. It still looked brand new after all these years. I feel my heart shatter in pieces, I feel every regret and mistake swim through my mind. You take my hand in yours, dipping your head to look in my eyes. “Hey, look at me.” 

I clear my throat, looking at you, feeling hot tears on my cheeks. You cup my cheek, wiping my tears away with your finger. 

“This isn’t me giving you this to remind you of what could have been or to have you beg for my forgiveness. Because I’m not gonna do that. I forgave you a long time ago, that’s why I hung on to this. It reminded me every day of the good. Not the bad. Never the bad. Because you were always good, Eddie.” You curl your fingers through my hair, and I shake my head at you. 

“I was only good because of you.” I whisper, wiping the snot from my nose. 

“That’s not true and you know that.” You say, moving your other hand to the other side of my face. “It just took you a bit to catch up, there’s nothing wrong with that.” 

“Look where I ended up.” I cry softly. “Look what I did to myself for all those years, how is any of that good?” 

“Look where you are now.” You say to me, opening the binding of the book to a blank page. You point to it. “Blank page. New chapter, better life.” 

I stare at you in awe, wondering if this was a cruel dream and I was actually held up in that hotel room in Manhattan, overdosing, imagining things like this. I take your face in my hands, kissing you sweetly, you curl your hands through my hair, and I press my forehead against yours. You were real. This was real. 

“Thank you.” I whisper to you. “Thank you for everything.” 

“You’re welcome.” You smile against my lips and pull back, gently running your hand over my cheek. “I love you.” 

“I love you too.” I whisper to you, pressing my lips to yours again, cupping the back of your head. I pull you by your thighs onto my lap, gripping your ass and your waist. You lean back, pulling my shirt off of your head and press your lips to mine again. I hold onto your back, clawing at your skin, as I continue to massage my tongue with yours. You grind against me, and I groan into your mouth, instantly getting hard. I kiss your neck, lick down to your breast, and take your nipple in my mouth. You let out a sigh, your back arching and I hold you tighter. You hold onto my shoulders, pulling my face to yours, kissing me deeply. I feel your hands unzip me, and I groan against your skin as you take my cock and bury me inside you. I hold your hips as you rock, the beautiful moans that you breathe out send shivers down my spine. I cup your breasts, rubbing your erect nipples as they bounce in my hand. 

“Unghhhh baby, you feel so good.” You moan loudly and my head falls back against the couch, rocking you faster. “Ahhhh, fuck.” 

“Mmmm.” I moan, pushing myself deeper into you, arching my hips. “You like that baby?” 

“Fuck Eddie.” You gasp out a shaky breath and I smile, hearing you say my name like that awakens a wild animal in me, I just want to feel all of you and more. I meet your lips, wrapping both my arms around your waist and turn you onto your back. I hold your leg over my shoulder, slamming into you, feeling every inch of your wet pussy swallowing my dick whole. “Just like that baby, don’t stop, don’t stop…annnnghhhh!” 

You’re getting so loud, and I feel myself shudder, pornographic sounds and grunts escape my mouth and I feel you clench around me. “F-fuck…ohhh…unghhh…”

“I’m gonna come, I’m gonna come…oh my…oh…unghhhhhhh!” You cry out as your orgasm rocks your entire body, I keep fucking you, and you’re still screaming as your pussy continues to clench my cock. I groan loudly, feeling my eyes roll back and I feel the warmth come out of my cock as I come inside you, I don’t stop thrusting until I’m completely empty. You’re still trembling underneath me, still moaning as the stimulation you feel starts to settle. I swallow a lump in my throat, pressing my lips to yours, thrusting into you once more. 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Manhattan. 

The second to last city of the tour. 

I haven’t used heroin in two weeks. Two long, boring, fucked up weeks. 

Everyone keeps saying how proud they are of me and that I’m doing the right thing. But am I? Do they know that behind my stupid smile and my sense of humor is a fucking ticking time bomb ready to go off and take everyone down with them? No? Yeah, probably not. I’m not that easy to read anymore. I’m still a drug addict and I still know how manipulate people into believing my lies. The ache and the urge to use is so hard to resist, I feel like I’m slowly dying. Everything makes me sad, I cry all the time. I feel like a fucking pussy. 

The shows we’ve been putting on have been unreal though. We’ve had to do double shows because the stadiums have been sold out.

I should be grateful; we have great support from our fans. We had a meet and greet and had met a beautiful young woman, who couldn’t have been younger than twenty-one, who was battling terminal cancer, told us that our music keeps her going on the worst days. I hugged her while she cried, held her face and told her that she was strong, that whatever happens she will walk out of here knowing she made a difference in my life. And when she left, I locked myself in the bathroom, weeping because it was too much. It was all too much, feeling her pain, seeing it in her eyes. I made Ted take down her email, her mother’s email. I don’t know why but I needed to know what happened to her. 

We were on stage now, finishing the last song. I wailed on Sweetheart; my hair was sweat soaked and whipping around me as I head banged around the stage while Gareth slammed on the drums. I bring my mouth to the microphone, singing the last verse, and look back at Gareth, he grins, hitting the double bass petal, snare and we fade out. The roar of the crowd vibrates our bodies, thank them for coming to the show. I toss my guitar pick in the audience and blow them air kisses. 

The boys and I went to a local bar to celebrate, naturally, I had gotten extremely drunk. But they didn’t seem to care, I mean, if they did, they didn’t say anything. Being drunk was better than being sober and when I was sober, I kept seeing the girls face with the cancer. I couldn’t even see straight; I was surprised I made it to my hotel room. 

I don’t even think I shut my door, because as soon as I walked in to empty my pockets, I couldn’t believe what I had placed on the table. 

Sitting so perfectly beside my cigarettes, lighter, and loose cash was a little plastic baggy with light brown powder, and two capped needles. I feel a laugh escape my lungs; I don’t believe this is real. When did I buy some? Was it at the bar? Was it outside the bar? I really don’t remember. I held the baggy in my palm, staring at it like it was the missing piece of the puzzle. 

I didn’t even hesitate; it was like riding a bike. I had done the first shot; it had burned like hot embers in my veins. It made me sweat; the summer air didn’t help, but sitting on the floor next to the air conditioner did. The top two buttons of my shirt were undone, I didn’t take the necklace off. Maybe I should’ve. I press the needle into my vein again. Same spot, uh oh. I smile at the burn again; I probably should’ve waited before I did it again. My head feels heavy, but I am so fucking high I don’t even care. 

I look at the syringe, there’s still some in there, I clench my fist, looking for a different vein. It was just enough to…

Suddenly I’m in my back, staring up at the ceiling, everything feels foggy, I can’t move. My heart isn’t beating, or is it? 

“Look at what you’ve become.” I hear your voice and I slowly turn my head; I taste something foul in my mouth, something warm is spilling onto my cheeks. I see your face, kneeling next to me. There is no way you’re real, looking at me this way, your face cold, your eyes blank. “Just a dead man, laying on a cold floor with a needle in your arm.” 

My body reacts, I feel it trembling. I can’t speak, my limbs don’t work. Nothing is working. I feel calm though, isn’t that weird? 

Did the show really go well? Or did I imagine that too? I think I forgot the words to a song…but Gareth had took over. Have I been high this entire time? 

It’s quiet now. The room is still, I think I see Gareth…he’s screaming something at me. But he’s not angry, he looks almost scared, and he’s weeping. I can’t hear him; I can’t hear anything anymore.

“He’s still coding.” 

“Adrenaline.”

“Are you crazy?” 

“Just do it!” 

“Fifth narcan given.” 

“Eddie? Eddie? Can you hear me?” 

“Still no response. Eyes fixed and dilated.” 

“He’s not dying tonight! Do you know who this is?! Do another narcan, I’ll start compressions.”

“Can you step on it, Mike?!” 

“Give me the adrenaline.” 

“You’re crazy if you think it’s gonna work. Fifth narcan given. No response.” 

“Give me the fucking adrenaline!” 

“It’s not gonna work! Doug, don’t!” 

A loud, deep, gasp escapes my lungs, and my vision clears. I’m in the back of an ambulance, my shirt is ripped and there is a needle sticking out of my bare chest. I feel sweaty, I feel clammy, I think I’m still dead. I stare at the wide eyes of the paramedic and try to ignore the vibrations of what I assume is adrenaline coursing through my bloodstream. I pull the needle out of my chest, and I feel immediately trapped. 

“Stop the truck, let me go.” I say, my eyes wide. 

“We’re taking you to the hospital.” The man who I assume is Doug says. “Whatever you took is not fully cleared from your system.” 

“Nope, no hospital, let me the fuck out.” I go to crawl off the gurney and two strong hands push me back on the bed. I start to struggle, and I end up elbowing Doug in the face. He falls back, and the other paramedic tries to restrain me.

“Mike! Stop the truck! Code gray!”  I rip the CB radio off the wall, and I smash it on his head. I was a trapped animal in a cage, and I needed to get out. The ambulance slams to a halt, and I smash my shoulder against the back doors, awkwardly stumbling out and I start running. Well, running as best as I could. We weren’t that far away from the hotel, and I was grateful when the building came into few. It must’ve been late, because when I walk in the lobby the only person there was the receptionist and she looked at me like I was a walking zombie. 

I try to smile and wave to her, and I can only imagine what that looked like to her because she looked even more terrified. I make it back up to my room, everything was thrown everywhere, the bed was a mess, the floor had medical equipment laid out. There was a puddle of whatever liquid had come out of my mouth on the floor by the air conditioner. My phone, Sweetheart, my suitcase and everything else was still where I left it. This was the third time I have ever overdosed in my life, but it was never this bad. I never had to take an ambulance ride. I walk into the bathroom, and I can understand why the receptionist looked terrified. I was very pale, almost ghostly, my eyes had dark circles underneath them. My curly hair was sticking to my skin because of my sweat, there was a black and blue bruise on my chest. I did look like a dead man walking. 

Oh, what do you know, I still have drugs. 

Did I shoot up again after having just overdosed? Yeah. Why? You may wonder. 

Well, it didn’t kill me. 

I’m sitting up on the floor of the hotel room, a stupid smirk on my face because I knew I wasn’t dying again. I know I’m a piece of shit, I know Gareth was the one who found me teetering on life and death. 

I hear three loud rapping knocks on my door. “Fuck off.” I groan out. 

“This is NYPD.” 

“I didn’t die so you can leave now!” I shout at them. 

“Not gonna do that sir. We could do this easy way or hard way, open the door.” 

I feel angry now, I stumble to my feet and whip the door open. 

“Edward Munson?” 

“Depends on who’s asking.” I let out a low chuckle, there was three officers, and they weren’t impressed. 

“Edward Munson, you have a right to remain silent…” one of the officers comes towards me. 

“Fuck right off!” I said, stepping back but he has the upper hand on me. He grabs my forearm and I swing my fist, connecting with the side of his jaw. The two other officers tackle me, and I’m still able to fight them off. I feel a back hand connect with my nose and mouth, tasting blood immediately. I’m finally forced onto my stomach, my hands are behind my back as I’m shouting profanities at them, letting them know my lawyer was one of the best in the country. They pull me to my feet, the officer that I punched looks at me like a disappointed father. 

“It’s a shame. You’re my son’s favorite band.” He wipes the blood from his face. 

“Gonna tell him to stop listening cause you’re dealing with the devil?” I grin at him, knowing very well there is blood staining my teeth. They pull me out of the hotel room, and lead me out to the lobby. There’s already a line of people outside, I see paparazzi. Oh, this is gonna be great. I wonder what the tabloids are gonna say about me now. 

Heavy metal rockstar Eddie Munson arrested in New York City for being on a drug induced psychosis and beating up cops. 

Probably not exactly that, but at least nobody found out I died for five minutes. 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

We had driven to the studio in downtown Boston. It didn’t feel like winter, it felt like a cool spring day. I had to go back up to upstate New York for my therapy session, she was impressed with what more I had to say. It wasn’t a lot, but it was enough to get her to not think I was an asshole. I had mentioned you, and the way she looked at me made me think I was telling her a bedtime story. I had spoken to the paramedics that I had hurt the night of my overdose, apologizing for my behavior even though it probably didn’t mean much because I still hurt them, they never wanted to press charges because they’ve dealt with worse people but since the ambulance company was state run, charges had to be filed, as well as the charges for assaulting three police officers. I had to complete a 90 day program, continue my sobriety with a sponsor and have two years of mandatory therapy. 

You were excited to see the studio when we pulled into the lot. We had stayed at my condo, and I was exhausted. I was up all night doing the finishing touches to the song I was writing. I had sent it to Gareth this morning and all he had written back after I sent it was: “Dude. I’m weeping.” 

I’m not sure if that was a good or bad thing, but as soon as we walked into the studio Gareth had tackled me into a bear hug, lifting me off my feet. You had laughed at our exchanged, and he had done the same thing to you. Ted had arrived soon after with coffee and bagels. He had hugged you like he had known you forever, and when he saw me, I honestly could’ve cried. He had met us when we were a struggling newbie band, we were just kids. Straight out of a small town, no dime to our name. We would sleep in his basement, he’d cook us dinner and his wife would do our laundry. He’s why we’re here today, why we can do this job and I hope he knows just how grateful I am for him. 

This was my favorite place to record. It was mostly an office building, but we had owned the studio. No one bothered us, we didn’t bother them. We purposely remodeled it to make it soundproof, there was an engineering table, with two computers, and a sound mixing station. We had three recording booths, three large couches sat up against the wall. Ted sat on one, patting his forehead with a tissue. He was sweaty, seemed a little pale but he had mentioned earlier he felt like he was coming down with something. 

I sit next to him. “How was seeing your family?” 

He smiles at me. “Oh, it was great. The grandkids are getting so big. Julie wants to go for dinner tomorrow night.” 

I smile, nudging him with my shoulder. “That’s good, right?!”

“Yeah, I think so.” He smiles, looking over at you. Gareth was showing you all the different controls on the engineering board, and how the sound works through the speakers. I follow his eyes, and I smile.

“She’s beautiful.” He says with a grin. “Don’t fuck it up again.”

“I don’t plan on it.” I laugh, running hand through my hair. I was getting nervous about the recording, and he could sense that. Gareth was the only one who read it, and now I was going to be singing it in front of everyone. Even you. I didn’t show you what I had written, it feels like a diary entry almost. Gareth had already told me that he knew what music to put in for it, I had made a note towards the end where the heaviness would come in. 

“You’re gonna do great.” Ted says with a smile. “You always do. Remember, kid. Blank page, clean slate.” He goes to stand up from the couch and I poke his ass with the tip of my shoe.

“Thank you.” I tell him, quietly. “For never giving up on me.” 

He rolls his eyes, and winks, I laugh. “Save the theatrics for later, you got work to do.” He claps me on the shoulder, and I let out a loud sigh. I walk towards the recording booth, the song in my hands. Gareth gently massages my shoulders, following me into the booth.

“You got this, man.” He tells me. “Deep breaths, sing your heart out, block everyone out, and just feel it.” 

I nod at him, shaking the nerves out of my hands as I close the door to the booth. I lay the paper on the stand and place the headphones over my ears. I hear Jeff’s voice over the speakers in my ears. 

“Ready?” 

“No.” I laugh and give him a thumbs up through the window. 

I already had the melody in my head, it was just Gareth’s job to mimic it, and Jeff would add the background after. I glance at the song, meet your eyes, and I smile. 

I begin.

“It’s cold in here, my hands shake, my bones ache. I don’t want to feel anything anymore. All the mistakes, they’re catching up, maybe I should’ve just been left for dead. My mind is broken; the walls I made are crumbling around me. It’s so easy to just be, but the ache is there, it calls to me, I just want it inside of me.  Down the rabbit hole I go, can’t find my way, can’t find my way, can’t find my way back home. It’s so easy just to be, but it calls to me, calls to me. Down the rabbit hole I go, how are they supposed to find me? Will I be bone, will I be ash, will I be lost for good?  I don’t regret it, it’s why I’m here, my heart bleeds in my chest. One last shot, that’s all I want, and then maybe they will heal. It’s all I dream, the clouds around me, smiling as I go. But you came back, screaming my name, and it all fades to black. Down the rabbit hole I go, can’t find my way, can’t find my way, can’t find my way back home. It’s so easy just to be, but it calls to me, calls to me. An angel with wings, that’s what I thought, but it was a devil in disguise. I can’t go back, I have to repent, my sins are killing me. My sins are killing me!” I extend the note at the end, and I hear Gareth on the drums. I keep my eyes closed, nodding my head to his beat. I wait for three beats, one, two three…and I’m yelling out the song, feeling my stomach muscles clench as my voice comes out, sounding broken, and angry.

“Cold floors, cold walls, I can’t feel anything at all, just these thoughts that haunt my mind, driving me fucking insane, one last shot that’s all I want, I don’t want to feel this. But somehow, I’m still alive, and there’s nothing left to see. Down the rabbit hole I go, can’t find my way, can’t find my way, can’t find my way back home. Down the rabbit hole I go, can’t find my way, can’t find my way, can’t find my way back home.”  I add the second to last verse again, followed by the chorus, and I yell, my voice fading, and I glance over at my bandmates. In the speakers of my ears, I hear Jeff, “Fuck YEAH, man!” 

I laugh, taking the headphones off my ears. You had tears in your eyes as you’re clapping, and I come out of the booth. Gareth is already whooping as he comes out of the booth, his drumsticks in his hand. 

“Play it back.” I tell them. I look over at Ted, who’s smiling with tears in his eyes. I squeeze his shoulder and he places his hand over mine. We listen to it back, and I’m amazed at how it sounds. We begin to brainstorm on what melody should go where, where to add the guitar. How heavy it should sound at the end. We spent about three hours in the studio, recording the music, adding more riffs, adding piano to it. Once it was completed to our liking, we listened. We haven’t had a melodic song like this since our first album, and I couldn’t believe that was my voice. 

“I say we go celebrate by getting some Italian.” Ted says with a grin.  

“You buying?” I grin, pulling you towards me by your waist. 

“Ha, you’re funny. Let me piss first.” He goes into the bathroom, and I lean my head against your shoulder. 

“That song was amazing.” You tell me, gently rubbing my chin. “I forgot you could sing like that.” 

“Wasn’t that great.” I say, giving you a goofy smile and you nudge me with your shoulder. 

“It was perfect.” You kiss my lips gently and I grin. 

“Ugh, don’t miss that.” Gareth laughs and pokes my stomach. “I’m starving, where’s Teddy?” 

“Bathroom.” 

I watch as Gareth walk into the bathroom and the door closes behind him. “Teddy! Are you taking a shit? Did you fall in?” 

We both giggle. I turn to you, but your eyes are somewhere else. Gareth has come out of the bathroom, his face ashen, his body trembling. “Call 911.” He says loudly. Jeff whips up his head, and the engineer is immediately on the phone. 

“What?” My heart is in my throat. 

I watch as you run into the bathroom, I go to follow you, but Gareth stops me, his hand on my chest, tears are streaming down his face. “Don’t go in there, Eddie.” 

I push his hand off me, ignoring his words and I jog to the bathroom. “Eddie! Eddie!” 

I skid to a halt, watching as you’re giving chest compressions to Ted. Gareth slams his chest into me but has remained frozen as he stares at what you’re doing.  

He’s not moving, his eyes are partially closed, and I see a little blood in the corner of his mouth. “Ted?” I almost yell. 

You look up at me, your expression in full nurse mode as you continue your compressions, feeling his pulse. “Eddie, stay outside, please.” 

I don’t hear you; I slide to the floor and move next to Ted. Trying to see, trying to understand. “Wake up, man.” I say, my heart beating fast. I hear blood rushing in my ears. I couldn’t see his chest rise and fall; just the force of your compressions trying to pump air in his lungs. 

“Eddie, come on.” Gareth sputters out, his hand on my shoulder. I slap him away, there was a cold chill going down my spine. 

“Teddy, wake up.” I’m getting angry now, I feel my throat lock up, and tears sting behind my eyes. He was fucking with us, he had to be. I place my hand on his, he was still warm, but I got no reaction. “Wake the fuck up, man!” 

I watch as you sit back on your heels, your eyes meet Gareth’s and I see you shake your head, you look at me now. “Eddie…”

“No.” I say through my teeth, I hold his face in my hands. “Teddy. Teddy. Wake up. Stop fucking with us man, stop this.” He’s not even looking at me, his chest isn’t moving. I feel myself trembling. I shake his head. “Teddy, wake up!” I feel your hand on my forearm, Gareth’s hand fisting my shirt from behind. I can hear the sound of a two-way radio outside the door. An angry, loud, groan escapes me and I’m sobbing. “Don’t do this to me. Don’t fucking do this to me, man. Please wake up. You’re supposed to go to dinner with Julie tomorrow. You don’t have to worry about me anymore, I’m better now. I promise, just wake up. Please Teddy. Please.” 

The paramedics are in the bathroom now, and I can feel Gareth pulling me back. A loud, guttural, groan escapes my lungs as Gareth has to practically drag me from the bathroom. “Teddy!” I scream, thrashing against Gareth’s grasp. The struggle causes both of us to fall on our asses to the floor, and he’s almost restraining me. You’re in front of me now, holding my face in your hands as angry sobs and groans scream out of me. 

“I need you to breathe for me.” You say calmly. “You’re gonna hyperventilate, Eddie. Breathe.” 

“I don’t care!” I moan out, my teeth grinding. My ears still ringing, this wasn’t happening. This wasn’t fucking happening. He was the closest thing I’ve had to a father and there was no way he was gone. 

“Eddie, baby, please…”

I struggle in Gareth’s grasp, my body still shaking with sobs as I see them wheel Ted out from the bathroom. A mask over his face, the paramedic on top of him doing compressions. They disappear, telling us what hospital and nothing is making sense. Nothing. None of it. 

I felt like I was in a fever dream as I pace in the hospital waiting room. I was talking to myself, reassuring myself that he was okay, that he was alive and would be cracking jokes in his hospital bed. I wouldn’t talk to anyone, even you. I had tried calling Julie, but her phone had immediately gone to voice mail. Gareth was still pale, sipping out of the same coffee cup he has been for the last half hour. 

The doctor had come, and before he could even say the words, I’m walking away from him. I’m holding my stomach; afraid my insides are gonna fall out and a jagged breath escapes me. A sound I never knew I could make before comes rattling out of me, it hurt so much. A massive heart attack killed him. 

“We did everything we could. I’m so sorry. If it gives you any sort of comfort, he didn’t feel much. If anything it just felt like a tickle.” I whip my head around to look at him, I know my eyes are wide and look feral. 

“Do you actually know that though? You don’t know what or how he felt, so don’t even fucking claim that you do.” My voice is breaking, and you pull me away from the doctor, leading me to sit. “I don’t want to sit!” I shout, but your palm is on my chest, gently pushing me down. I hear Gareth say a few more words to the doctor and he walks away. He is handing me a plastic bag, it had Ted’s key, his wallet, his phone, his fucking wedding ring. 

“They need Julie to release his body to the funeral home, have you gotten ahold of her?” His voice sounds far away, he’s still crying, and I can’t look at him, I just shake my head. My hands are trembling as I’m gazing at the plastic bag, I shake my head, rubbing the snot from my nose. Ted’s phone vibrates in the bag, and I see Julie’s name light up. I stare at her name, and I pull the phone out. I stand up from the seat, clearing my throat as I slide to answer. 

“Julie?” I hold my stomach, a small sob escaping me. 

"Hello? Eddie?” She already sounds panicked. “I have no reception where I am, what are you doing answering Teddy’s phone?”

“Um.” I let out a small groan. “We’re in Boston, at a hospital. Ted, he…he uh…” I can’t say it, I can’t fucking say it.

“Eddie…what is going on?” I hear her voice shake.

I squeeze my eyes shut, my wrist falling away with the phone before I put it to my ear again. “Ted’s gone…he…he died.” 

“No, he didn’t.” She inhales a gasp. “Eddie, don’t lie to me, no he didn’t!”

I’m weeping. “I’m sorry, I’m so fucking sorry.” 

“No Eddie!” She’s screaming, a loud, heartbreaking scream. “I talked to him earlier, he was fine! He was fine! Oh jesus…”

“I know, I know. We were at the studio…and…and then he was in the bathroom. He didn’t hear me; I was trying to wake him up. Julie, I tried, I tried to wake him up, I’m so sorry.” My knees are buckling as I’m sliding to the floor, my body aching, my throat feeling like it was closing up. 

“Eddie, Eddie, you listen to me right now. Don’t fall back on what you’ve come so far to accomplish. He was proud of you. Despite everything, he loved you, Eddie. You were like a son to him, don’t fall apart now. You hear me?” I nod into the phone; I can’t see straight. I don’t even remember her asking me what hospital, or when she said she would be there. I was still crumpled on the floor, you were at my side, rubbing my head, and I was scrolling through the photos on his phone. There was so many of his grandkids, his kids. There was a bunch of us performing, a bunch of random selfies because I’m sure he forgot how to flip the camera. I scroll through his contacts, trying to remember if there was anyone else, I needed to call. I stop when I see your name.

What?

You’re not looking at me, you’re talking to Gareth about something I’m not bothering to listen to. I click your contact name and see a thread of text messages between you and Ted. It goes back seven months ago. 

What the fuck?

Before I could even make a comment on what I have seen, the doctor comes back, asking if we’d like to see him. I place the phone in my pocket, I would deal with this later. I didn’t even know how to react towards you, why were you talking to him seven months ago if you just met him today? I get up from the floor, and I realize I’m ignoring you. I turn to kiss your lips quickly, Gareth, Jeff and I follow the doctor to a hospital room. I watch as you sit down, waving at me defeatedly, looking tired, sad. I could feel my heart breaking and I didn’t even know why.

They tell us as soon as we’re outside the room that we would have to go in one at a time. Jeff goes in first; I’ve never seen him cry before, and when he came out, he looked like he was about to pass out. I fist his shirt to get him to stand upright, and I hug him to me. Gareth goes in next, he’s in there for a few minutes until he comes out, wiping his eyes, looking at me like I could shatter at any moment. 

I pat his back, reassuring him that I was okay. But I’m not sure if I was.  I step into the room; the lights were bright. Ted was laying on his back, a white sheet was up to his chest. My stomach clenches again and I have to support myself on the bed rail before I sit down. 

I take his hand; it was so cold. I had to warm him up. He shouldn’t be cold. Tears fall down my cheeks as I stare at his face. I’m not sure if he looked peaceful, or if he looked dead. 

“I still think you’re fucking with me.” I tell him quietly. “After all those times you brought me back, I would think this was some sort of punishment.” My lips tremble and I feel hot tears pool down my cheeks. “Fuck you, man. Why’d you have to go and die on me? After everything – after so many years of you practically raising us to be better men, better friends, a better brotherhood. What are we supposed to do now? What are we supposed to do without you?” 

A sob escapes me, a small whimper, my head falls to his bed and I’m laying my forehead against his hand, holding it tight, my chest hurting, my stomach in knots. I feel strong arms on my shoulders, pulling me up. 

“Come on, dude.” It’s Gareth, my head falls to his chest, I felt weak, he helps me out of the chair. I feel like I’m being weighed down by cement as I stare at his body. 

“No…” I groan out loud, I sound like a kid. A kid who just said goodbye to the only person he’d ever known as a father. “I can’t leave him.” 

“It’s okay, dude. I’m here.” Gareth continued to lead me away, my head falls in my hands and I’m groaning again. It hurts, it all hurts too fucking much. 

We waited until Julie got to the hospital a few hours later, I could barely stand up when I saw her. She was cradling me like a small child, rubbing my head, telling me everything was gonna be okay. I didn’t want her to comfort me, I told her. After everything I put him through, she should hate me. She told me that she could never hate me, that I meant so much to her and Ted, that we all did. That she prayed everyday my heart still beat, and that I’d fight the addiction I so desperately craved right now. 

Once Ted was set to go to the funeral home in his hometown in Vermont, you had driven my car back to my condo. You were leaving tomorrow, going back to Maine, to go back to work. We don’t speak when we take the elevator up to my place. I’m on my phone looking at news articles, there was no way the media didn’t get wind of this. 

And I was right, the first article on Google says: Longtime friend and manager of Corroded Coffin, Theodore “Teddy” Callahan has died of a heart attack, at 58. I toss my phone roughly on the couch, you jump a little and I mutter that I was sorry. You sit next to me, wrapping your arms around my shoulders, you lay your cheek on my arm. 

“What can I do?” You ask me sweetly. 

I don’t answer you; I’m staring off, I can’t see straight. Tears still continue to pour down my cheeks. My entire body feels stiff. I had to know, I had to know why she was in Ted’s phone. Why it seems they have been talking longer than they let on. 

“How long have you been talking to Ted?” I feel you freeze next to me. 

“What? I just met him today.” 

I meet your eyes, I’m not in the mood for games. “You may have met him today, but you’ve been talking to him for seven fuckingmonths.” 

You pull away from me, rubbing your eyes. “Eddie, I can explain that.” 

“So, explain.” I feel my chest heaving. There are so many emotions: grief, anger, sadness, the urge to stick a needle in my veins. 

You just stare at me; I can tell you’re trying to figure out what to say. Realization settles in my gut and I stand up from the couch. “That letter was a crock of shit, wasn’t it?” 

“No, no Eddie! I meant every word.” Your eyes are filling with tears. 

“You LIED to me!” I yell at you. “You said Gareth gave you my number. Gareth didn’t even fuck know you were around until the other day! When did Ted reach out to you? Because I know you didn’t.” 

“After your overdose, after everything with the courts.” You sigh, standing and walking toin were me, I step back from you. “Eddie, I wasn’t gonna send you a letter at first. I couldn’t do it. It was like someone brought you back from the dead even though you were alive.” 

“So, you knew everything about me, about my struggles, about ALL of it and just pretended to care? Pretended this whole time?” I’m staring at you with wide eyes. 

“I’m not pretending Eddie! He reached out to me because he was scared, he didn’t know what else to do. He said you kept talking about me, how sad you seemed and he thought maybe, maybe I’d be able to help. I was fully ready to just see you, rekindle our friendship but I never thought we’d end up here. When I saw you, it all came rushing back and I couldn’t control it. I love you, I have always loved you.” 

“That don’t mean shit if you came to see me out of pity.” I feel tears sting my eyes again; I just want to rip my fucking eyeballs out. 

“I didn’t! I came here because I was worried.” 

“Your aunt just happened to be away that entire week?” 

You stare at me. 

“Answer me!” I yell, my voice breaking. 

“My aunt has been dead for five years. When I travel I use her place because she left it to me.” You sound so small and I just laugh at you. 

“That’s fucked up. Even for you.” I clench my fists, pressing them to my eyes and you let out a sob. “These last three weeks, you’ve been making love to me, cooking for me, bringing me gifts from the past, telling me that you love me, when this entire time you had no intention in ever speaking to me again if it wasn’t for Ted?” 

“Eddie, I thought about you every day!” 

“Stop the bull shit! Stop it!” I clench my stomach, the same familiar ache forming. “I don’t believe you. Every time you speak, I hear a lie, even if you are telling me the truth. Is this punishment? For breaking your heart? Well, you win, sweetheart! Cause mine is a pile of fucking dust!” 

“Eddie, please.” You’re sputtering. “Let’s talk about this.” 

“No.” I shake my head at you, tears falling. “I don’t want to talk anymore. I want you to get out.” 

“What?” 

“Get the fuck out of my house.” 

You stare at me with wide eyes, pure heartbreak and disappointment on your face. I have to look away from you, I can’t look at you. Because if I look at you this way, I’ll want to take you in my arms, kiss your tears away and pretended like this never happened, but I can’t do it. I can’t. You don’t say anything to me as you take your purse off the couch, you look back at me once and I meet your eyes. I watch as you walk away from me, down the hall until you get to the elevators. A shaky sob escapes me, and I sit on my floor, I hold my head in my hands. Before, I was the one who walked away from you, because I couldn’t handle how to be loved by you. Now, I’m sending you away, because I can’t stomach the thought of you actually still loving me, after everything, after all the pain, the things I’ve done. Maybe you really don’t, and this whole thing was just a game. 

How could you love someone like me? I’m broken, I’m damaged. 

I’m still a fucking monster. 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ A/N: Thank you guys! Don't worry, it's not over! Taglist: @kellsck @bellalillyrose @iggyizalien @trixyvixx @originalstar1 @themorticians-world

[kittycatcrackhead]

shane x farmer headcanon

TW: Alcoholism, EDs and body dysmorphia, and mentions of being suicidal.

Here's some headcanon stuff before i get to the depressing shit

Leon is 5'5", and Shane is 5'6" (funnily enough, leon was made to be short because i wanted him to be slightly shorter than shane, and i've always headcanoned shane as 5'6")

Neither one can cook. Leon has literally burnt down his kitchen before.

Leon is 27, and Shane is 34

Leon is horrible with kids, but Shane is surprisingly good with them (it's cause he tries to be a good uncle to jas)

Leon doesn't understand a thing about gridball, but it's fine cause shane loves to ramble and explain it.

Shane is transmasc, and uses he/they pronouns.

Leon uses he/him pronouns.

Shane wears exclusively crocs, even at work. It drives leon insane (he despises crocs).

Leon and Shane are both slobs, and it drives Leon's bodyguard Phillip (who also lives with them) fucking nuts. (phil is a part of their relationship, but i want to focus on leon and shane's dynamic here. i'll eventually make a post about a phil x shane dynamic)

Leon is somehow still a certified accountant (even after getting fired from his last job for accused fraud. he was set up tho), and handles the finances for the farm, and deals with tax stuff. He often rambles about accountant stuff to Shane, who doesn't understand a lick of it.

Leon is allergic to cats, but they still keep a cat around the farm.

Leon's full name is Leonard Valentine Locke. DO NOT call him Leonard, he despises his full name.

^ This is leon :3

^ this is his sdv sprite i made :3 (pixel art is a pain in the ass in procreate btw T_T)

ok sad shit below this, read at your own risk.

So shane has always been a big influence on my oc, Leon (it was mostly subconscious, I didn't realize Leon was so similar to Shane until a couple of months ago)

They're both suicidally depressed and alcoholics, and both struggle with their sense of self-worth.

I believe that Shane drinks because he lost two close friends who meant a lot to him (Jas' parents), and didn't know how to deal with the grief. He'd already had a bit of an issue with alcohol before, but nothing like it would become.

Leon drinks because he had a shit childhood and a shit life. He hates himself, and struggles with major depression. He's on antidepressants, and meds for bipolar 2, which react poorly with the alcohol, worsening his symptoms, and making him heavily suicidal. He always had a problem with alcohol, but it became significantly worse when he shot and killed his father. While it was self-defense, his now boss, Zalu Merriweather, used it against him to get Leon to work for them. That sent Leon into a downward spiral, and he ended up nearly dying multiple times.

He ended up in Stardew Valley with his bodyguard, Phillip, because of some lore thing idk. what happens in stardew valley isn't canon to my story, so i haven't put too much though as to why Leon ends up there lmao

But Leon finds shane, and they are two drunk peas in a pod. They get along well, (perhaps too well), and are both worsening the other's alcoholism, since Shane now has a drinking buddy, and leon thinks shane's hot af, but leon prefers to be drunk when he sleeps with someone.

Then shane's six-heart event rolls around, and leon doesn't want to shane to end up like him. Shane decides he's going to get his shit together.

Leon doesn't get sober yet, tho. He's still drinking and struggling, but with Shane now being sober, he doesn't want to be a bad influence.

Eventually, shane and phil are able to help leon give up alcohol.

Leon gives it up entirely, but Shane is able to have a few beers every now and then.

Leon gains weight after quitting alcohol, and it really fucks with him. He had an ED when he was younger, and has bad body dysmorphia. Seeing his body become "ugly" by his standards almost makes Leon relapse, but he works through it.

[gaysindistress]

As Good a Reason - four

pairing: Mob!Bucky Barnes x reader

summary: when Brock Rumlow picks a fight he can’t win with the White Wolf, he drags his Snake back. Six years after she ran away, Y/N Rumlow is faced with a choice to make; do as she’s told and kill the White Wolf or overtake her father instead because spite’s as good a reason to take his power?

warnings: cursing, violence, weapons

word count: 3k

A/N: Bucky gets darker the next few parts so I’m warning y’all now and no one gets surprised. I’ll add a ⚠️Dark!Mob!Bucky⚠️warning in the parings as well as the warnings.

three | series masterlist

Tag list: @cakesandtom @elizacusi-blog @unaxv @hidden-treasures21 @vonalyn

disclaimer: credits to original creator/poster of image/gif. found on Google/Pinterest. The women in the banners are not how Y/N is supposed to look. They are merely for aesthetic purposes and Y/N is written vaguely enough for anyone to see themselves in her.

John is sewing up Victoria’s hand as she grimaces and swallows the entire bottle of Vodka in one gulp. Niklaus, on the other hand, is frantically pacing the room, wearing ruts into the floor. John tries to get him to stop or slow down even but he refuses. 

“We’re fucked, absolutely fucked,” he mummers under his breath. 

Victoria practically growls as John pulls at the stitches to tie them off before snapping at her brother, “Of course we are. We let that bastard take Y/N.”

John looks to Niklaus nervously and then back to Victoria. 

“Oh my god, what did you two idiots do?” “Nothing, we did nothing,” Niklaus snaps back at her. 

“No, you did something. Tell me or I’ll throw you both through the window.”

John spills almost instantly, “Klaus made a deal with him last year.”

“You’ve got to be kidding me!” she shrieks. 

Niklaus rushes over to her and quickly puts his hand over her mouth to silence her, “Shut up for the love of god. I’ll tell you if you promise to not say anything. Brock is literally down the hall.”

She nods and he starts in with the tale of how he might have royally fucked up. 

About a year and half ago, Brock caught him and another man together and beat Niklaus to a pulp. He had been laid up in the hospital for weeks and needed routine visits afterward from the injuries he sustained. In addition to being beaten within an inch of his life, Brock had threatened to kill them if he ever caught them again. That had been the final nail in the coffin for Niklaus; after years of enduring the torture that his father put him and his siblings through, he made the decision to get rid of him once and for all.

The most natural choice was the White Wolf.

He was feared across the East Coast and was gaining power rapidly. He threatened Brock’s authority in New York and it made him nervous, sketchy, and scared. Niklaus arranged a meeting with Steve, his community liaison, and set the plan in motion however it all crumbled when Brock caught wind of a rat amongst his ranks. He had Niklaus and John execute too many innocent men and he even made a move on the White Wolf’s men. He’d murdered Tony Stark, one of the White Wolf’s close friends and advisors, setting forth a domino effect of violence. He retailed as one would and with Y/N being dragged back in, it complicated things. Niklaus tried to uncomplicate it and remove her from the equation with the planned ambush at the party but he never expected that she would willingly take the deal. Hoping that she was still the stubborn teen she had been, he’d hoped that the White Wolf would have to take her against her will and keep her locked away until it was all over with. 

“You are the biggest idiot I have ever met,” Victoria says with an equal amount of shock and annoyance, “Why didn’t tell me before? I could’ve helped you plan something better.”

“I didn’t want anyone else to get hurt if it all went south. I figured I could take the brunt of it while John got you to safety.”

Victoria scoffs, “So a suicide mission?”

“No.”

“Yes! You know him better than anyone. He will tear you apart limb by limb, sew you back up and do it again until he gets bored. And even then he’ll find a new way to entertain himself.”

John makes a disgruntled noise at all of her moving and says, “But if Brock’s dead, it’s all worth it.”

“No it isn’t John! You’ve been friends since birth practically and you’re seriously suggesting that him being dead is for the best? Klaus,” she pleads with her brother, “we have to find another way. Call him and find another way. Please, I can’t lose you.”

“There’s no other way. Either the White Wolf kills Brock before he can get to me or I try my hand at it and our father kills me.”

Her eyebrows furrow in pain and sadness as John finishes her hand. The moment he’s done she leaps up and wraps her arms around her brother.

Niklaus grips her back tightly ad if he’s afraid she’ll disappear into thin air and buries his face in her hair.

“You better hope Y/N figured out a better plan.”

He nods against her head.

“I love you, Klaus.”

“I love you too.”

Brock loves to incite fear in everyone around him whether that be with his voice or a violence. He craves to make all those in the same room as him fear for their lives if they so much as breathed wrong and that is especially true with his children. He lives to see the terror that lives in their eyes when they see him or how their bodies go rigid when he walks past them. He wants to see them shutter when he walks too close to them. He wants them to hold their breath until he leaves. He wants them and everyone else to walk on eggshells when he is around. He wants them to fear him in every sense of the word. 

Victoria’s small sniffles piss him off to no degree and he backhands her hard enough that she falls to the ground. Niklaus, ever the loyal son, only flinches at the sound of the impact and does nothing to help his sister. He knows that if he even so much as moved a muscle, he would be next. 

“Can someone please explain to me how the fuck you let that bastard take Y/N?” he growls at them as he rubs the bridge of his nose. 

Victoria climbs to her feet and with hit tears pooling in her eyes, she matches his anger, sneering back at him, “He knew we were going to be there. We didn’t stand a chance.”

“You had Y/N. You had every advantage I could’ve given you but somehow you two still fucked it up and killed her in the process.”

Niklaus risks his head and speaks, “She’s not dead. He took her hostage.”

Brock marches up to his son and grips his face in one bone crushing hand as he says, “That’s even worse. He can use her to get to me.”

“Y/N won’t give you up no matter how much she hates you. She wouldn’t risk Victoria and I getting hurt,” Niklaus scoffs and jerks his head away. 

In a flash, Brock whips out a pistol and pushes against his forehead, “You’re useless, you know that? I’ve done nothing but provide for you and give you everything you could ever want. Still you fuck up and prove to me that you’re only ever going to be a thorn in my side. Give me one good reason why I shouldn’t put a bullet in you and Victoria.”

Victoria makes a startled gasp and lunges at her brother in efforts to push the gun away but John grabs her and holds one of his own to her temple. She whispers insults under her breath and curses him for being “a fucking traitor and a bastard.” Niklaus looks at her for guidance because he’s a loss for words. There’s nothing he could say that wouldn’t get someone hurt. She shakes her head as much as she can, urging him to not say anything. The one piece of information he can give their father to save them would end with Y/N’s head on a platter but it’s all he has to offer.

“Nik please,” she whispers with even more tears in her eyes. 

“I don’t have a choice.”

“Nik you always have a choice. Don’t do this please. Él la matará.”

He will kill her.

“Don’t speak that shit in my house,” Brock growls at her, “Try again and this time peak English.”

She pleads with her brother again in Spanish, earning another growl but with the gun against both of their heads, he has to do something. Giving away himself would ruin any chance at catching Brock off guard in the future so he goes the only thing he can.

Niklaus tears his eyes away and locks eyes with his father as he utters Y/N’s death sentence, “She made a deal with him; in exchange for our lives, she helps him kill you.”

“Is that so?” Brock asks, cocking his head in amusement before turning to look at Victoria, “I think I might have to send a message to that brat if that’s the case.” One shot. 

And a body drops. 

Steve chooses to grab Y/N by her hair this time, keeping his hand wrapped in her braid so that he has complete control of her. The White Wolf gives him a disapproving look but doesn’t say anything as they walk into a looming and dark house. Matching the exterior, the house is black and sleek with no hint of personality anywhere to be found. It looks very much like a house that a mob boss would buy to launder his money and she assumes that this is the case. 

“Stop gawking,” Steve tells her with a harsh tug of her hair and she hisses at the pain. The White Wolf looks back and motions for Steve to bring her forward. 

Taking her arm in his like a pretend gentleman, he explains that until Brock is dead, she will be staying with him. She’s not to leave and if she does, she needs to have explicit permission from him and a security detail will go with her. Steve smirks when her eyes flicker over to him, indicating that he will be the spearhead of that detail. The White Wolf saying her name brings her attention back to him and continues to explain that the house is hers, she has free reign as long as she stays within its walls. He stops them at a door at the end of a hallway, “This is my office…”

She interrupts him, “And it’s off limits. I know the drill.”

He smiles, looking her up and down while he wets his lips, “Smart girl.”

A part of her shutters in disgust but another…. 

“How much time do you need?”

“What?” she questions, searching his face for any hint of explanation. 

“It’s been six years since you left home so I’m assuming you need some time to figure out a plan. How much time do you need?” 

“You make it seem like I left on good terms,” she mumbles, shrinking under his intense gaze. 

He chuckles, “Sorry, RAN AWAY.”

She sighs and looks around her, “He’s living in one of his old properties so I already know how to get in and out. It really depends on how quickly you can get me what I need.”

“And that is?”

“How do you want it done?” He takes a moment to think about it as he pushes open his office door and leads her inside. Steve closes the door, locking just the two of them inside. The White Wolf pours both of them a glass of whiskey and hands one to her before taking a seat on a massive leather couch. However with him and his overwhelming presence on it, it looks child sized. He motions for her to sit in a chair across from him and she hestiants but he insists. 

“That’s up to you, little snake. You want him to suffer, right?” he asks as he takes a sip, wincing at the blissful feeling of the burn. 

“Don’t turn this on me,” she pauses, realizing that she only knows him by his alias,  “I don’t know your name.”

“My name?” “That’s what I just said.”

He narrows his eyes at her before giving her the answer she seeks, “James.”

“Don’t turn this on me, JAMES. It’s not about what I want, this is about your little fight with him,” she snarks at him, “The only reason why I’m involved is because of opportunity. You saw a chance to get back at him for whatever reason and preyed on me because of my past with him.”

James reclines in his seat, allowing himself to enjoy her anger and admire her in the process. 

“Did he tell you what this is all about?”

“No but I don’t exactly care either. All men have an ego the size of the sun and turn to violence when it gets bruised.”

He chokes on his drink at her appraisal but agrees nonetheless, “Fair enough. So what do you need?”

“I’ll need a Beretta M9A4 with a silencer, an M4, and a set of knives.”

“Strange list, anything else?”

“A getaway car and a driver.”

“I’ll have Sam do it.”

“Hm,” she stops him after taking a sip of her drink, “No, I don’t trust him.”

“I really don’t think trust should be something you’re worrying about right now.”

Y/N slips her heels off and draws her legs onto the chair with her, getting as comfortable as she can to level a bored look at him. James takes in her form as she’s curled into herself and he wets his lips with his tongue. 

“Who do you want then?” 

“Steve.”

A beat passes. 

“Or you.”

He questions her with a smirk as he slides through down into the leather couch. He’s lounging at this point, completely ignoring the fact they’re discussing murder. 

“Me?”

“I don’t trust any of your men and most certainly not you but you wouldn’t do anything to put me in harm’s way if you’re involved.”

His phone rings and he picks it up, eyes never leaving hers, “Hello?”

She can’t make out what the other person is saying but she can tell they’re frantic. James lets out an annoyed sigh and closes his eyes as his head hits the back of the couch, mumbling along as the person on the other side rambles on and on. His attention being off of her gives her the opportunity to really look at him. 

Eyes taking over him, Y/N takes in the way his midnight blue suit compliments his eyes and how his white shirt underneath is unbuttoned in an absurdly attractive manner. Just under his suit jacket is a hint of leather, a holster she assumes given what little she knows of him.  

“He’s not going to do anything and even if he did, I have people close by.”

The sheer dismissive tone brings her back to his face where she locks eyes with him. He must have lifted his head when she wasn’t looking and was most certainly watching her checking him out. She finishes the rest of her drink and sets the empty glass on the coffee table between them. 

“Încetează. Seriously calm down and use your brain, Klaus. He’s not going to do anything stupid. If he did, he would ruin any chance of survival he has. ”

She gives him a questioning look and he winks at her instead of explaining.

When he hangs up, she immediately jumps into her line of questions to which he explains that her brother has been working with him for some time now. 

“Klaus? As in my brother Niklaus? He’s helping you?”

“He came to me last year and asked if I would help him with… some business.”

“Why did you make a deal with me if you already had one with my brother?”

“It never hurts to have multiple options.”

She groans in frustration and rubs at her temples. Of course she would’ve been suckered into some farce of a deal by a shady businessman. The temptation to throw something at him becomes too strong and she hurls one of her heels at him. It misses and clatters to the ground behind him to which he chuckles at and gets to his feet. His shoes scuffle the floor as he pours himself another glass. Rather than sitting back in his original place, James rounds the coffee table and sits in front of her on it. 

“Brock would see it coming if I had Klaus do it regardless of how good your brother thinks he is. You, on the other hand,” he starts, pointing at her, “are the perfect option. He still has hope that you’ll find it in your heart to love daddy again so you still have a chance to gain his trust hence why I brought you here. Taking you away from him builds the tension, makes him sweat, makes him vulnerable and reckless. It puts him in the perfect position for me to release you back to him and boom my Rumlow problem is gone.”

“You still haven’t told me what he did.”

James leans forward so he’s invading her space, “It didn’t seem important a minute ago.”

Y/N matches him and leans forward too, “Well it is now. What did he do?”

“He killed a very good friend of mine.”

“You have friends?” She laughs at him and before she can stop him, he grips her braid again and pulls her off the chair and onto the ground before him. 

He yanks her towards him and whispers in her ear, “Learn when to stop, little snake. It’s unbecoming of you.” 

She glares him with all the hatred she feels for men like him but it flatters when his eyes flicker from hers to her lips parted due to the pain in her scalp.

"You look good on your knees for me," he lets spill out before releasing her.

She knows that he meant for it to come out but nonetheless she throws herself back as far as she can to get away from him. James, the flirty and seemingly harmless man is gone and in his place the White Wolf reemerges. He smirks at her desperate attempt to put space between them and winks at her again, this time making her body revolt at the gesture. Standing, he leaves the room without another word to her. 

Whatever safety and trust she hoped to gain tonight is gone the moment he closes that door. 

She’s alone. 

Completely and utterly alone.

[asphaltvalkyrie]

I had an extremely slow day at work today, so I chose to look busy by writing about BG3. Someone smarter than me has probably had this revelation before, but it gave me pause enough for me to feel like I need to share it.

I decided to romance Gale in my 2nd playthrough, with the intent of letting him get ahold of the Crown of Karsus, and its making me Feel Things.  I like this walking apocalypse of a wizard a lot (he and Karlach are my easy faves,) but its taken romancing him to really see that

tl;dr Gale's backstory really makes a handy allegory for gifted kid burnout.

From the beginning he was special, a golden child, someone who would do great things and go far. So, he ended up building his entire personality on that eventuality.  Older authority figures took a special interest in his talent and he immediately wanted nothing more than to please them, at the cost of making friends or learning life skills (well, except cooking apparently?) 

(Then there's the whole issue of him developing a sexual relationship with Mystra who was without a doubt considerably older than he was and had that "but he's so mature for his age," mindset and all the fuckery that comes with that holy shit I can't even begin to desconstruct how much that would fuck someone up.)

Then he makes a mistake. He breaks a rule he didn't know existed. Why doesn't he know that rule existed?  Because no one told him.  They conflated his intelligence with maturity and his self-confidence with knowing his own limits. They forgot that he's basically a kid compared to them. (Elminster is what, centuries old?  And Mystra is a fucking deity.) He lacks the emotional maturity to understand why what he did was so bad. 

Gifted kids know.  Among the absolute worst thing an adult can say to you is "I expected more of you," or "you should have known better." Which is pretty much what Elminster and Mystra said to him. And then they not only withdrew their attentions and support, but they also refused  to help him deal with the orb - an omnipresent physical and spiritual reminder of his trangression. After that... he just has no idea what to do with himself. He sits in his wizard tower until the Mind Flayers get him.

By the time the others find him, he's realized that the talent he used to get by on no longer serves him, but since he built his whole personality around it, he doesn't know how else to act.  So he maintains the bluff and bluster of a child prodigy, but he's now keenly aware of how pointless it is. He seems insufferably arrogant at times, but there's a razor-fine edge of self-loathing to that arrogance that he couches in self-aware humor. Over the course of his short time with the party he starts to feel like he's cared for and among friends, and even proves himself an attentive, affectionate and very grateful partner if you romance him.

Then Elminster shows up and tells him to atone for what he did by suicide bombing the Elder Brain. Bam, there goes his hope of finding a life outside of that "greatness" others told him he was destined for.  Once a gifted kid always a gifted kid.  Destined to be a human sacrifice on the altar of someone else's expectations, for good or ill. 

And in a semi-related note, when you take him through the Dryad's trial, the answer to the question "whats his biggest flaw" is that "he thinks the world would be better off with him dead" and he says that its very true, but he didn't realize it until you said it.

Then you find the Annals of Karsus, and what does he say he wants to do with it? Reforge the Crown of Karsus with it so that he can obtain godlike power and make the world better for mortals, and he wants to share it with you.  With how smart he is, he really should know thats a terrible idea. But he doesn't, because of a combination of hubris and naivete.  He learned absolutely zero lessons from the orb debacle because he hasn't really been allowed to learn any lessons beyond "I just have to do the thing I'm good at, only I have to try harder this time."

I'm only on the second netherstone, but I have a feeling that this is going to end very badly.

[pixiedust-poppers]

can you do an infodump about one of your jatnlp au’s or headcannons? Make it one of the dark ones!!

IM SOOO SORRY THIS TOOK SO LONG FOR ME TO INFODUMP ABOUT I had an idea VERY MUCH typed out and i showed a friend and then they said some criticism back for a scene that made me stall and realize i need to work it out more and the more I thought this I realized it was dark but.... not entirely unhinged (and you asked for dark so. I will bring the unhinged factor to my aus) so I bring you one that is a bit shorter dark and unhinged.

To note: This takes place in alternative version of cdbazemore98's Jake and Tori Stories series but focused more on Izzy and she is SO mentally ill and has been for such a long time. So, the credit for the main series goes to her. (Please. DO NOT go after her)

note 2- This takes place in J&TS4 a week or so after chapter 25: Spouse betrayal and to give a short gist of the emotional side of this . Jake was overtaken by lust and forced himself (for a kiss) on Ally (an oc of the author) with her husband and his rival Blake (also an oc of the author) there and Izzy watched to whole thing go but didn't reveal herself until Blake and Ally left. She rightfully slapped him and when he revealed why he did what he did (he saw her mother in her; Tori (as is Victoria Vega)) and she screamed "oh so your still in love with tori?" and then proceed to dig into abt him probably wanting to fuck her (she is in her sixties) and her daughters and when Jake couldn't get a word in + very upset at these conclusions she came to he raises his fist at her and threatens to knock her out if she doesn't shut up. Both he and she are shocked at this, and when he tries to explain himself 5 secs later, she is not having it, so she leaves and tells him that her and their youngest daughter won't be at home when he gets there and that he is dead to her.

There is some ongoing mystery plot in the story itself but for this alternative time-line that doesn't matter, and you're going to see why💀

SO once again DISCLAIMER: I do not Own Jake and Tori stories series. I do not own Ally, Blake, Troy, Maia and Kari they belong to cdbazemore98. DO NOT harass or go after the author.

CW: suicidal ideation, suicide, OOC FOR SURE.

--

Isabella Green was a miserable woman; she has been for a loooong time and her week just got even worse. A few days after Jake forced himself onto ally and she leaves him to stay at tori's with their youngest daughter Hikari (kari for short). Tori being mostly team Jake although she "hears her out" for her side of things she talks to izzy in a way that makes it clear to her that she's moreso going to believe Jake's side of the story. She never liked her anyway, but she continues to stay because free rent is free rent.

The more kari whines about wanting to see her father and be kissed goodnight by him instead of her, she begins to reflect. "Does anyone really give a shit about her?" "How did her life turn out like this?" "Why didn't she do the deed sooner?", she's been unhappy for a looooooooooong while in her life, even from the age of 11. Depression and low self-esteem have had this girl in a chokehold for a long time, the choke is less or more depending on the day but it's always in the back of her mind. She thought that staying and marrying jake would help that; it does! ...depending on the day. She thought having children would make her happier; It does! though it was unconditional when they were younger... and sure she wasn't always the best mother, but she has noticed that Jake can do wrong in their eyes meanwhile, she isolated from immediately the moment she fucks up.

She doesn't have many friends, she hates the way she looks, any time she tries to do anything that will make her happy, everyone is suddenly a critic. what's the point of being here anymore if she can't be happy? She knows she can't convince Jake to go to couple therapy, everyone will tell her to get over it and what's the goddamn point??? Her kids will probably be smitten to just be with her dad, Jake can find a wife he actually wants to fuck and she can be happy in death.

So after kissing Kari goodnight, she answers Jake nightly call for once. Goes to the bathroom and basically trauma-dumps and chews him out, then after he gets his "I love you my fair maiden please" She traumatizes him for life by shooting herself in the head while he's on call.

Now because she married him, and bore his children, she does get into this Super pirate heaven. Homegirl is vibing, she LOVES it. Got her nice lil tiny home set up and everything and now she can start getting into hobbies she genuinely enjoys without anyone's judgement and she is safe

Meanwhile on earth, they're um ehhhh… Tori and the other's don't really give a shit, they're sad for Jake's sake(Cubby is genuinely sad though). Troy is more devastated than Maia over her death considering he was a momma's boy, Kari is traumatized as she was the first to find her mother's body and Jake is in Tatters, because he knows fucked up majorly to point where he actually doesn't date (he does the occasional prostitute) again despite others recommending he does, but he doessss get into drinking abit more, but he does like his job so.. not really.

Months pass and things have calm down, Jake obviously isn't over his wife's death so he's just semi-misrable and desires to see her again but then skylar so kindly reminds him "Hey what if u use super pirate powers? you can use those to see her like you did with me and maybe bring her back!" Eureka moment there. So he tries, but to no avail she doesn't want to connect with him. After complaining back and forth to the Og Super pirate spirit is like "Ok lemme talk to her... I'm sure we can come up with something." He goes to talk to her and she's like "No i don't want to see them, I doubt they give a real shit" and then trauma dump to him too and tells it about all the things she wished to have done with Jake and her life if not for the twins and having to settle down so early in their 20s. it's like "wow... hmmm you suffered alot.. I think i might have a deal for you." and she was like "??? I'm not a super pirate though?" And he's like "You wish for a new life and your husband wishes for a life with you in it, I can help with both." And he tells her of the plan if she agrees which is, for them to "start over" and take her back to the night where the twins are conceived but she can put a stop to that happening, and with changing that turning point in her life to possibly never or a later date, she can hopefully get the adult life that she truly wants. And while she personally wants it to be younger, she thinks about and realizes she can still do what she wants since she'll still be young with all of the amenities she’s grown accustomed to and agrees. And so with this Izzy is responsible, for the unbirth of her children, de-aging basically everyone and significantly pushing back time. She wakes back up again, as 19-20 year old izzy who is a nervous very uncomfortable wreck because Jake is about to walk in and they're going to have the sex they agreed to do earlier in the week (it was consensually dw) and this time instead of going along with said sex, she works up the courage in her to say no and actually explain to Jake why she isn't interested in sex as whole. She didn’t do so the first time mostly out of fear that it would significantly hurt their relationship or that Jake would leave her or that Jake would just snap and force himself on her, she was scared. And with this no twins are created so you have now a whole new sandbox of conversations that should be haved and therapy to fuck about with.

[what-if-i-just-did]

Guilt & Revenge: Sunburn

Whumptober, Day 5: Sunburn

Guilt & Revenge Masterlist

I JUST finished writing this... I'm gonna try to write some other stuff so I can build up a buffer again. I really hope ya'll r enjoying this series too so far. I think some things still feel vague vague without the context? So I might add some meta over the next few days. I promise everything makes sense once it's all published and in order, it's just confusing now. Anyways, lmk if you wanna be added to the taglist!

TWs: off-screen torture, shame/guilt over being complicit in torture, captivity, implied previous underage whump, mentions of bullying, crying, and possible suicidality

Paul hadn’t wanted to make the forty minute drive to Buffalo this week, since it had been really busy at work this week, but when Mercedes said she’d go over to Dom’s in an hour… he decided work could wait. 

He’d gotten sunburnt yesterday, because he’d gotten invested in the book he was reading outside and lost track of time. It was only the second time in his entire life that he’d gotten sunburnt, but it was a heatwave afterall. He felt kind of stupid, in retrospect.

Looking at Dom now, he felt a wave of shame wash over him. There he was, worrying about things like sunburns and books when they were literally keeping a person captive and torturing him. It had been.. almost two years since they all found each other. He never meant to start any of this. By the time he realized they were serious, it was too late to back out. They kind of scared him. And.. deep down, he wanted to see Dom suffer. Just to see how it felt.

It felt fucking awful. He felt guilty. The tiny glimmer in him that felt justified, satisfied by the retribution, was far outweighed by the part in him that was hyper aware of what they, what HE, was putting another person through. How horrible it was. 

He couldn’t help but stare at Dom’s skin, ignoring the red running over it. Dom was almost translucent. He wasn’t particularly dark before, at all, but… over a year without sun. Dom would never have a sunburn again. He’d never feel sunshine again, never see the sun or the sky or clouds… never smell freshly cut grass or the ground after rain. Never set foot on dry land again.

Slowly, a realization punched it’s way into Paul’s chest, and guilt pierced his heart. They had taken this man’s life. They might not have killed him, although Paul was sure that was where this would eventually head. But they had stolen his life. Taken away everything he had, until he might as well be dead. God knew that if it had been Paul in that situation, he’d rather be dead than what Dom was currently experiencing.

It had been months since Dom tried to mouth off at them or struggle. Suddenly, with a shock, Paul wondered if Dom had reached the same conclusion. That he’d rather be dead.

Paul blinked a few times, trying to shake the thoughts. Guilt would help no one. What was done, was done. He watched Mercedes as she was busy with Dom, admiring how gentle she was, even as she was doing… horrible things. He didn’t understand how she could believe this was justified, but even with that belief, she showed compassion. 

Not for the first time, Paul wondered if Dom had already mellowed out by the time he bullied him. If he’d been worse with the others, done something that actually warranted this. The realization of Dom’s suffering gave him deja vu to the last time he’d felt the exact same. The first and only time he’d seen Dom cry.

Well, no longer the only. Dom had done a lot of crying the past year and a half. More like, 

the only time when they had been kids. That was a better phrasing.

Was it? Weren’t they still kids? They were still teenagers. Legally adults, now, but…

They hadn’t been when it started. Only Mercedes had been. But aside from legality, they weren’t really adults. Were they? Paul certainly didn’t feel like it. Maybe Hugo and Eileen and Mercedes did. Maybe they felt like adults, and that’s why they didn’t feel bad for what they were doing to Dom. Did they view him as an adult, too?

He scratched at his skin. He’d forgotten how annoying sunburns were. Dom would never have to deal with it again, or with so many other troubles of the outside world.

No, his trouble was far worse now. Paul’d bet that Dom wished he could deal with little issues like sunburns and books right now. And not… this.

Paul swallowed. He just felt like a little kid, in over his head.

[curlytheintrovert]

My Favorite Papa Joel Moments (Pt.8): The Finale!

🦠 It’s the sweetest, most tragic thing that while Ellie is so closed off, Joel is so open. He’s trying so unbelievably hard to get her out of her PTSD head space…and it’s kills me how little it helps. Joel has finally accepted his role as her dad, he’s raw and heartfelt, his voice and mannerisms are even softer, but Ellie is just gone. (And Joel openly talking about Sarah?! It’s such a testament to how he’s opened himself for Ellie) It’s not until the giraffe scene that we see Ellie come out from the darkness, which shows how heart shattering it is that Joel’s sweet attempts has been so ineffective. And even when Joel’s happily looks at her laughing, he pauses and looks heartbroken, like he knows. It’s clearly what compels him to try and convince her they don’t have to go through with the plan for a cure. He doesn’t want her to break anymore than she already has, showing how he has always prioritized Ellie’s emotional well-being.

🦠 For how emotional and devastating this series has been, Joel’s confession was the one moment that really made me tear up. Joel admitting to trying to commit suicide explains EVERYTHING about his character. It gave a full, complete picture of him in a way that’s breath taking. Sarah, and in turn fatherhood, truly was his purpose—when he lost both of them something fractured. And it fractured so hard he wanted to die. He loves hard and it explains so fucking beautifully why he tried so hard to push Ellie away at first. It explains why he’s capable of ruthless murder. It explains why he’s so closed off. And it explains why loving and protecting Ellie felt like his downfall. Joel already lived through his downfall once, and he lived in the miserable aftermath for years and years. But when he says “It wasn’t time that did it” and his eyes just shine with love, it reinforced to me why a suicide attempt makes so much sense on his part: He’s hopelessly devoted to and in love with his children.

🦠 Joel’s binge killing through the hospital…there are no words. When I rewatched it a second time it brought me to tears. In my previous pt. 7 post I addressed how bone chilling Pedro’s performance at Lakeside is when he’s silent and flat eyed. And that exact same look occupies his face throughout the entire scene. It’s terrifying. I don’t even know if I see this man blink. The way it’s shot is cinematically perfect: the tragic music, how you don’t fully see rebels faces and sound is muffled. We are in Joel’s head space, we live in it more than we ever have. But the music really makes you understand how horrific it is…your heart breaks for the rebels but also for Joel too. He loves his daughter so much that he doesn’t see people, he doesn’t feel anything, it’s just Ellie. That’s all there is for him. Honestly my favorite shot of the entire show is the bullet casings falling around his eerily steady, calm footsteps. Like his humanity is crumbling one bullet, one life, at a time…Yet the best parallel is the distinct way Joel carries Ellie, and by extension Saran, bridal style through a similarly horrific situation, but this time he redeemed himself no matter the cost.😭 He saved his girl!

🦠 Now for the ethical question everyone will be discussing: Did Joel do the right thing? My favorite thing in the tlou podcast is when Neil talked about the test players for the game and their thoughts on the ending. It was a 50/50 chance for those without kids and 100% of those with kids agreed with Joel’s choice. I personally am a parent and am completely in agreement! As a parent there’s nothing you wouldn’t do for your child and it’s painted so beautifully in this episode. Joel killing and lying to keep her alive would have seemed like nothing compared to losing her, and I uncomfortably have to agree. No parent should be excepted to just accept their child’s death (and especially if you knew you had the capability to stop it!) I’m so sad but so interested to see where our favorite tragic father-daughter duo will go from here…season 2 is gonna be a doozy!

[milkolya]

i feel like oversharing on this fine friday morning abt whats going on in my life. if you read this, thank you 💖 i know we tumblr gays are all going Through It at any given moment, and the solidarity has always helped me cope

(TW suicide) (with details)

last week my grandfather on my mothers side killed himself by jumping out the 12th story window of their apartment building in russia. he'd been fighting esophageal cancer for approximately 4 years. he was 70 years old. he definitely had some issues, some trauma or mental health struggles, you know, SOMETHING, that led him to excessive drinking and smoking for the vast majority of his life. like, he wouldnt have had cancer if he actually took care of himself you know? its his vices / coping mechanisms that caused it. and once he started getting treated, he didnt have it in him to change his lifestyle to make the treatments worth anything.... he continued on drinking and smoking and eating sugar by the spoon (another cause of the cancer is poor diet) and even insisted that he would die if he gave up any of those things. id get in trouble if i used the "alcoholic" word around my family but they were watering down his wine behind his back when my parents visited in 2021. like come on. and even at 70, he still outlived all of his siblings, all of which died from alcoholism related causes afaik. he just... he was clearly suffering, and in classic russian fashion, he kept everything bottled up forever, never made any effort to get better, and one day when sitting down to do his bills he decided you know what, i dont want to do this anymore.

thats what happens when you dont address problems!!!!

obviously its heartbreaking but its also incredibly frustrating for me. i was super suicidal as a teenager and my mother did NOT take it seriously, she told me that it was "normal" and everyone experiences it (including her). now in retrospect i understand that she was trying to help me and comfort me, that that thought must have helped her, but like. its not normal... and its pretty fucked up that ive been suicidal, my mother has been suicidal, and now my grandpa (her dad) killed himself. he fucking killed himself!!!! what the fuck!! and i continue to be the ONLY PERSON in my ENTIRE FAMILY who tries to seek help through medication and therapy and just like, at least fucking acknowledge that we have hereditary fucking issues in the form of trauma and mental illness.... its just a mess.

and of course my mother and grandmothers top concern is What If Hes Not In Heaven. cause suicide is a sin. cause thats what we should be focused on ?!?!? sigkapfilwkflamcnwgkqj . it makes me want to scream.

ive just been surrounded by suicide my whole goddamn life and i wish it would end. my close friend attempted when i was 15 and i had no fucking clue what to do. multiple others i was close to at school were struggling with similar thoughts and urges, including myself. we were all desperately trying to hold eachother together, you know? far too much to handle for a bunch of kids. and then i went to uni, and my new friends there had similar issues, and in 2nd year, one of them did kill themself. they took their fathers gun and they shot themself in the head. and did my mother help me feel better? only until i mentioned suicide. once that was out there, there was ZERO sympathy, just judgement, and dismissal of their struggles. which really, really hurt me. because they were trans, and they couldnt handle how harsh this world is towards us, and obviously i really related to that sentiment.

like, i understand my grandpa too. i dont... i dont blame him personally? i dont even really blame my mother personally, when it comes to these kinds of issues. sometimes i will get mad at her about specific interactions but at the end of the day its russian society that made both of them this way. its so deeply ingrained. i just wish i could have helped my grandpa and i wish i could help my mama now but i cant. i can barely help myself.

and ive had to take time off work because i cant fucking focus and i just keep crying all the time and my brain is a foggy mess. and i dont know how to keep going. when will i feel better? i need to get back to work. will i be able to do that??

when my friend died... well, i call them my friend, but we were not close or anything. they were one of my good friend's roommates. we did talk occasionally and were on friendly terms. it just feels wrong to say "acquaintance" or something like that. i didnt process their death in a very timely manner. its weird but common, i think. about 2 years after it happened i started getting triggered by any content with suicide by gun. surprisingly common in media lol. folks love to hold a gun to their head on tv!! (side note: first movie i ever watched with my now fiancee, it was get out and when the guy shoots himself suddenly at the end i had a full blown fucking meltdown lmaooooooo so embarrassing it was like our 3rd date and the night of our first kiss)

idk why it took 2 years for that to start happening, i guess that was just my processing time. and then it took another two years or so to sort that out in therapy and im finally okay again and i can watch stuff with guns and suicide and not freak out. but now im scared of how this thing with my grandpa is going to affect me and how long thats going to last. i just want some peace and quiet :(

if u read all that, thank u. maybe give this a like to let me know. ive been deleting my vent posts a lot lately so idk if i will keep this up. my friends have been lovely and supportive, theres just not much anyone can really say to make it better. so it feels more comfortable to do a massive vent post like this thats optional to engage with. and ive always aired out my personal business on here so it feels right hehe.

[eclipticasolaris]

This was my favorite series as a kid, and I voraciously tried to read as many as I could.

Now, as an adult, I’m trying to collect all 64 books and re-reading them. I love them just as much, but reading through adult eyes, can confirm, Animorphs is on the exact same level as CORALINE in terms of ‘this is so fucked up, I can’t believe this got greenlit for publication at all, never mind for CHILDREN!!!’

Here’s a few more jewels:

That boy forcibly trapped as a rat eventually escapes the island, makes his way back to the main cast, and begs for death. One of the girls does so without hesitation.

Book 1, one of the kids is trapped in the body of a hawk because he stayed in morph way too long. One day, he succumbs to the underlying instincts of the hawk brain and swallows a mouse whole. He immediately tries to commit suicide in front of the others by flying at top speed into a window.

There are ‘star-trek Q-type’ 4th dimensional beings playing 4-D chess with each other over this war. Q1 is hoping that the brain parasites take over the entire galaxy and destroy everything, Q2 doesn’t want that to happen. Q2 offers to take the team and their families away to a zoo on a distant planet to preserve their species and the heritage of earth, but it’s a false pretense to sway their actions to change the course of time. Q1 propositions one of the girls on the team to murder her cousin, the leader of the team, in exchange for immortality and endless opportunity to feel the rush of violence and destruction.

Q1 gets bird-boy to do something for him, and in exchange, offers him ‘what he most wants’, which is to be human. Q1 waits until he is literally moments away from being eaten alive to grant the wish, and then grants it in such a way where he is forced to choose between abandoning his friends to fight the war without him so he can live as a human again, or continue fighting the invasion and hopefully save his species, but at the cost of living in a tree and eating small animals raw the rest of his life.

One of the girls is a peaceful tree-hugger type, who brazenly sacrifices the entire team’s identities, risking the safety of their families and the possibility of losing the entire fight for earth, and sacrifices her existence as a human, to convince a single brain-parasite to set their 5-yo host free. This actually pays off, and later in the series, that brain parasite helps her perform life-saving brain surgery on one of the other kids in a horse barn.

One of the kids has a brother who is a victim of the parasites, and the team has to maim the brother in order to prevent his parasite from killing their father while out of town for a funeral.

One of the kids lost their mother before the series began, only to find out later that she’s a victim of the brain parasites, and the brain parasite faked her death in order to get away so she could spearhead the invasion of earth. He has narrowly been saved from having to choose between his mother’s life and the interests of earth multiple times by coincidence or the intervention of his teammates.

The scariest-looking aliens are actually peaceful childish herbivores who were enslaved by the brain parasites for their naturally bladed bodies, which they use normally to harvest plants. The ‘good’ aliens secretly committed chemical-based genocide on the peaceful ones to limit how many hosts could be taken by the parasites.

The ‘good hero’ alien who gave the kids their powers turns out to have been directly responsible for the origin story of the main villain, a brain parasite who managed to take control of one of the ‘good’ aliens. Giving those powers violated their species prime directive, but because he is a war hero, his little brother is pressured by their government to take the fall for it. Thanks to Q2 fiddling with the fabric of time, this specific alien also happens to be the biological father of one of the kids.

Main villain has a twin, who infested the creator of e-mail, and since he’s in hiding from his twin, has turned to cannibalizing other brain parasites to stay alive, killing their human hosts in the process.

I’m not even halfway through the series.

did anyone actually ever read those animorph books

[kallard]

A Helping Hand

I am prepared to meet my maker. Whether my maker is prepared for the great ordeal of meeting me is another matter.

(The following contains subject material that will be triggering to some. Themes included are grief, loss and discussion of suicide and suicidal idealization, cancer and dying. Read at your own discretion.)

(Recommended listening: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=P4bKZT_Eg4A )

“You fucking idiot, what are you doing?!” someone shouted.

But Kallard’s ears were ringing so all he heard was a muffle voice, as if someone were trying to speak through a pillow. Someone had roughly shoved him backward and taken the gun from his hand the moment he had fired it, saving his life. Kallard sat up and stared at the man who had saved him. Himself.

“The fuck? I’m gone a week and you decide to blow your brains out?” Kallard’s counterpart snapped. “Selfish prick.”

“Fuck you, I didn’t need your saving,” Kallard snapped right back.

“Clearly,” the counterpart said with a sigh. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine.”

Kallard’s counterpart sat down next to him and lit two cigarettes, offering one to Kallard. He reached out and took the cancer stick and took a few puffs. Neither of them said anything for a few minutes, both of them focusing entirely on their cigarettes. It was obvious the pair didn’t want to talk about what had just happened and how close Kallard had been to dying.

“I thought you and the others left.”

“They did. I stuck around.”

“But I saw you leave,” Kallard said, finally looking over at his counterpart.

“I came back, had Gene drop me off near you. Wish I had prepared for cold weather,” the counterpart said, wearing nothing but a set of simple leather armor. There was a shield fitted to a strap on his back and a short sword sheathed at his hip. He clearly wasn’t prepared for the frozen north that was Garlemald.

“Why’d you come back?” Kallard asked between puffs of his cigarette.

“Got worried you’d do something stupid after seeing two people that are dead to you. Guess I was right. You are me, after all.”

“Right on the nose. You saving me was dumb as fuck, though.”

“Yeah, and why’s that? You just gonna do this after I leave?” the counterpart asked, crossing his arms over his chest.

“I’ve got cancer. I’ve known for a while. Kept it from Seia. You’re the first person I’ve ever told,” Kallard said before inhaling what was left of his cigarette in one long drag.

“Fuck,” was all the counterpart said, shaking his head. “How bad?”

“It started in my lungs but spread across the rest of my body pretty quickly. Wasn’t bad at first, just had a hard time after working out. Now? I can’t even keep up with Yuki I’m so weak. I’ve managed to keep it from her this entire time, but she’s a smart kid. Not going to take her long to put two and two together.”

“How did you even find out?” the counterpart asked, passing Kallard a fresh cigarette despite the circumstances.

“Before this city went to shit it was an engineering marvel. We had cars, carriages with motors in them and rubber wheels with a metal body. Our level of technology easily dwarfed the rest of the world’s. We had amazing machines that could fly and rain hell down on out enemies. We also had technology to detect things like cancer.

“I started treatment when I found out, but it didn’t do much. It just held it at bay until we went AWOL. Lost the ability to treat it so it spiraled out of control. You ever been sick but not feel sick, like there’s something wrong with you? I’ve had that feeling for two years now. Now it’s mixed with dread and the fear of dying,” Kallard said, the words just spilling out of him. “I know, fucking stupid given what I just tried doing. Wasn’t really thinking…”

Kallard’s counterpart reached over and placed a hand on his shoulder and gave it a squeeze. “I’m sorry,” he said with the weakest of smiles. “I’m guessing you have a bucket list of shit you want to do before kicking it?”

“Kind of, more of a mission, a goal.”

“Yeah, and what’s that? Clearly it’s not the entity,” the counterpart said with a shrug of his shoulders.

“No, it’s not. My people waged war on the rest of the world and I partook in that war on the bad guy’s side. I did what they said with glee. Things changed. Something happened and I lost any respect I had for my brothers and sisters in arms. My view of them was tainted. So we left. Went AWOL and destroyed the base we were stationed at.

“Landed us a huge bounty on our heads, but with my homeland now gone, it might as well not exist. There’s no one left to pay the bounty. So. I hunt the survivors, the ranking members, the ones who ordered us to kill innocent civilians. Found out there’s a large airship being built deep in the mountains.

“So, I’ve made it my goal in life, the last one, to destroy it and everyone working on it. I aim to kill everyone on the base. There are no innocents there anymore, not after what we did. With them gone maybe my home will have a chance of being reborn into a force of good. I’m tired of being the bad guy.”

“You’ve helped us with the entity, so it’s only fair we help you with this. Whatever it is you need, we’ll get it. People, resources, weapons, you name it. I’ve got your back,” Kallard’s counterpart said with a single nod of his head. “And that’s a promise. The rest of the family will listen to me and I’m sure my sister would love to help you out, to give you some closure.”

Kallard sat there and smoked as he thought this new bit of information in his head. He definitely needed bodies to help him but he wasn’t going to ask Yuki to help. She most likely wouldn’t be okay with helping a group of people kill a lot of other people. He sighed and looked at his counterpart, who was just sitting there smoking, looking up at the ceiling.

“Okay,” Kallard said after several minutes of silence. “I accept your offer to help.”

“Good,” the counterpart said with a smirk. “But! There’s a condition. I want some of those awesome guns you have.”

Kallard laughed at that, momentarily forgetting about the suicide attempt. It felt weird talking to his counterpart, like he was talking to himself.

“You got a deal, but you don’t get to take mine. We’ll find you your own before we make the move against the airship. There’s something I’ve been considering that I may act on.”

“What, other than blowing up a giant airship?”

“Does your world have a void, a space where evil creatures live?” Kallard asked his counterpart, peering over at the copy of himself.

“Yeah, we do and it fucking sucks. It’s constantly trying to wipe out all life on our world. Why do you ask?”

“Because my world has a void too. There are people in this world called reapers who use the power of the void to cast powerful magics. I was thinking of seeking them out and learning from them. I have grown weak and I fear I won’t be of much use to anyone by the time we’re all ready.”

“That’s a dumb fucking idea, but Gene makes it work and so do many others on my world. The idea was always in the back of my mind, but after the Sha I kind of abandoned the idea. I never want to experience anything like that ever again,” the counterpart told Kallard. “Oh, the Sha were emotions embodied. My sister and I turned into one when Cassian was killed.”

“So you don’t think I’m crazy?”

“Of course I think you’re crazy. You’re me. I know what goes on in our heads, trust me.”

The two shared a laugh before Kallard spoke again. “Can you help me with this? I don’t want to go back home until I learn something about these Reapers and their Voidsent.”

“Sure, sure. I told the others I’d be gone for a few days, so I’ve got time before Gene opens a portal back home.”

“Good,” Kallard said with a smirk. “Let’s go have some fun.”

[albedostartarus]

Yknow I. I wonder if I deserve any of this like. Sure yeah there’s the part about me essentially being a big ol failure and I’m working on that but like. Just. Karma? Like, I’ve really not been a good person for most of my life— Heck I’m not even a very good person right now. I just. I bullied so many people in school and like— Tejas for instance like, he didn’t do anything to me. He had a mental disorder and when sat next to me— when I was privileged enough to KNOW why he was the way he was. My mother was a doctor and had told me and I’d read about the disorder he had and the teacher had explicitly told me too. KNOWING THIS, I went out of my way to stab him in the leg or anywhere else to make him wail out knowing he couldn’t help it and that people would laugh at him. Then I’d act like he was being weird to me. I ruined his notebooks, hid his stuff and probably cost his family money in lost stationary while they were probably already paying for his medical expense. When his mum came up to the school to complain I lied to my parents and got them to say he was bullying ME and stealing MY stuff. Who the fuck does that? It wasn’t just Tejas either, Kshitij didn’t do anything to me either I just bullied him for no reason and laughed at him when he ended up crying. And when he fought back? I got mad and beat him up.

I want to just. Keep punching that self of me until he couldn’t get up anymore. I want him to know that he is everything I hate about myself. How could that person deserve any of this? How could I do that? I don’t deserve all of this I am a horrible fucking person, I don’t understand how I got away with no punishment and get to be in New York while they’re probably waiting to bring me up in a therapy session. I couldn’t even fucking apologise to them properly. I lied to my own friend who was suicidal saying that Kshitij tore up my artwork and I never apologised to him and all Tejas got was a oh yea sorry bro! While I passed him in the hallway.

I deserve nothing I’m a horrible fucking person. I think so poorly of my parents and ok sure objectively being beat up by them as a kid until I considered killing myself while holding a scissor in the kitchen over myself isn’t the best and like. Ok sure when I told mum I wanted to kms she said she’d be better off and offered to help! I agree those aren’t the best things to do to your own kid but man. Can I blame them? I deserved every bit of that. I wasted the money they spent on my education, I wasted the money they spent on my dental treatments and I’m a waste of the money they’re spending on college. How could I ever think poorly of them when they’re spending THAT MUCH on me and still encouraging me to have fun in college and spend on personal pleasures.

That one time in 7th grade I [redacted]’s picture on social media. I just. I’m not better than any of the men out there I’m not better than anything I’m just another man and i deserve none of this.

I don’t deserve any of this love from any of my friends they think they’re associating with a good person but I’m just fucking horrible.

Even now, I keep bringing K and S down when she asks for help and belittling them and why? WHY DO I DO THAT??? SHES LITERALLY FRIENDS WITH ME I DONT DESERVE ANYTHING SHES GIVING ME TO BEGIN WITH HOW CAN I

I just.

I wish I were punished for these somehow I don’t deserve this when I’ve been such a horrible person

Look at me I’m lying in bed wallowing in this bullshit self pity when I’ve had it so good my entire life. Z’s been through so much worse and she’s come out so much stronger and smarter and continues to grow. I had no problems and all I did was bully others and come out stupid and

[neonshrine]

Yesterday it was 13 years.

For some reason the only way that I can like wrap my head around it being 13 years is by thinking of it as "his death is a teenager." There were kids born in 2011 that are becoming teenagers. It's such a weird thought, and has absolutely nothing to do with Robby. Death can't be a "teenager."

When my mom broke the news to me, I have never felt so numb in my entire life. I didn't cry for hours. It wasn't until Becca (Robby, Becca and I were sort of the Three Musketeers of the neighborhood, if you will), came over that I finally cried. It didn't feel real, and in a lot of ways it still doesn't.

His parents asked me and Becca to speak at his funeral. I didn't get to go. I had a 102.7 degree fever. I went to the viewing with a 101 degree fever because I refused to miss it. One of my biggest regrets is not going to his funeral. I know funerals are for the living and not the dead, and I probably wouldn't have gotten through any words I would've hastily slapped together but I will always feel like I let him down by not going.

His dad and step-mom had a small get together that weekend for the neighborhood people to stop in and out. I was well enough to attend that, and just sat in Robby's bedroom in the basement. His dad came down to sit with me and let me cry on him for what felt like hours. It was probably one of the most selfish things I had ever done. Crying to the man who had just lost his oldest son. I apologized another day for being so insanely unthoughtful. I'll never forget his response.

"Why wouldn't I want to comfort my daughter when she lost her brother?"

I remember Becca being the first one to anger, which at the time pissed me off. She'd throw out things about it being "selfish," and she'd never forgive him for leaving us. In retrospect, I understand it now. We both know a lot more about addiction and how it impacts everyone in vastly different ways. Becca was always more of the "he needs tough love," approach. I was always more of the "he has to figure it out on his own," approach.

Sometimes I think Becca still holds me partially responsible for Robby not getting the help he needed. I don't think she means to. I think if I straight up asked her she'd tell me she doesn't, but I think it's because I was just as young and stupid and would frequently get high as well. I never used the hard stuff that he did, but that's no excuse. I really fucked it up. How could he possibly listen to him beg and plead to get help, when I was getting high as well? Yeah, weed and heroin are very very different beasts - but he'd give me the most infuriating "really?" look, and I had no backbone with him. I didn't want the fight. I didn't want the last things he said to me to be things out of anger.

Goddamn it was a lot for me to deal with for as long as I did - as young as I was.

There's still a debate to this day between friends and family about whether the "accidental overdose" was accidental or not. There's no doubt he died of a heroin overdose. Toxicology reports don't lie. Robby suffered from severe depression and had one prior suicide attempt when he was 15. His parents divorced when he was 3, his dad remarried (I was never a fan of his step-mom), had two more boys and adopted a daughter from Russia. Robby lived with his mom who never remarried, who (from what Robby told me) bad mouthed his dad religiously, and who wouldn't want him to even visit his dad. Depression also ran in his family. One time he told me he thought he was cursed. "All [redacted] men have severe depression. Our family curse."

Some believe he overdosed on purpose and they had been concerned for weeks that he was going to do something. Some think it was purely an accident but are glad he's "at peace."

Fucking bullshit, man. That wasn't peace. That's no way to go out.

Me? I don't have an opinion. All I know is my brother died. I don't care if he did it on purpose or if he did it accidentally. He just is no longer here.

For some reason 13 years hit me hard. The first was brutal. Year two was hard. Years three and four were... okay. Year five was rough because of that arbitrary milestone. Years six through nine, I feel like were easy. I think one of those years I actually forgot until a week later and then proceeded to feel insanely guilty. Year 10 was hard - another arbitrary milestone. Years 11 and 12... were fine. So why 13?

Robby's youngest brother Matthew is the age that Robby was when he died, and for some reason that hit hard. Matt reached out and said he was having a hard time with knowing that his birthday is in four months, and couldn't stop thinking about what Robby had been doing four months before his birthday (which is March 5 - so November 2010) that he didn't get to see. That it was an eerie feeling to be having. He said Colin (Robby's other younger brother) hadn't had that feeling. I don't know why, but this all bothered me even more. His brothers have gone 13 years without him. They went from being babies to grown men and Robby never saw any of it.

A lot of times I think about all of the things I've experienced that I didn't get to share with Robby. He never got to see me get something back from Mike, which I know would've made him roll his eyes. He didn't get to come to my housewarming party. He wasn't there to help pick up the pieces when I last got my heartbroken. He wasn't there to threaten to beat up my old boss. He didn't get to go to Becca's baby shower. He has no idea her son is named after him.

I miss him.

What died didn't stay dead. You're alive, you're alive in my head.

Here's 13 things one has to know about Robby:

1.) Him and I would play house, and one time he legitimately got upset and cried because he wanted to be the family dog and not the daddy.

2.) One time, we tried climbing out of his bedroom window using kite string. His dad put a stop to that one real fast.

3.) When I had my first kiss, he was the first person I told. He told me that was disgusting and I would probably get a disease and die.

4.) Years later he told me he had just been mad he hadn't been my first kiss because he thought it would be easier to practice on me until he got it right but could never figure out how to tell me that. Romantic.

5.) He was in a fairly popular pop punk band that did Warped Tour and what not. They were on the verge of actually making it when he died. Sometimes I wonder if the pressure was too much.

6.) He had a Collie named "Tillie."

7.) He had a very strange love for Dr. Dre. I have no idea where or how it started. It was like one day he didn't know a thing about Dre and the next he knew everything.

8.) He swore up and down Hoobastank was amazing and ahead of their time. We saw them open for Incubus and at the end of their set he just goes "TOLD YOU."

9.) When we were three, our moms took us to the theatre for the first time. I have no idea what we saw. What I do know is Robby and I fell asleep in the same seat and missed the entire movie.

10.) Every summer him and his dad would hold a wiffle ball party. It was all very serious. We'd make banners to hang on the fence line. The adults would get t-shirts printed so we'd have uniforms.

11.) He was an artist. He played guitar. He wrote song lyrics. He sketched all the time. His brain was always creating.

12.) He tried teaching me to skateboard once. It didn't go well and he blamed it on me being short. It had nothing to do with me being short.

13.) He would've laid his life down, no hesitation, for anyone and everyone that he cared about.

I miss him terribly.

I know my brother he went one way, and at the fork I heard him say: "Don't you follow, don't go making my mistakes." And I realized what he meant, don't kill yourself to raise the dead. It never works you'll only end up joining them.

For awhile after his death all I wanted to do not feel anything, so I drank. A lot. I've been drinking a lot. The last two months I've had more than I have in a very very long time. I didn't even realize why I was drinking so much until yesterday, when I had my last one and the thought of actually having to like sit with my thoughts sober was not a really enticing idea. It's still not. I'm drinking as I'm typing this, but I've at least recognized WHY I've been drinking like I have been. I don't want to join Robby. I just need to get myself together.

If I didn't know better, I'd think you were still around. I know better, but I still feel you all around. I know better, but you're still around.

[erigold13261]

What would happen if Sayu crew died in the FRAU?

Depends on who dies, how many, and stuff like that.

Talks about suicide and like some mention/implications of physical abuse from family.

If they all die (some kind of accident where they were all together) then NSR would take over the behind the scenes of Sayu and keep her running until it wasn't lucrative anymore and slowly ween her out of the public eye. Then a new charter would be put in place.

In this scenario, Tila's family probably tries to milk their daughters death (probably happens in most scenarios honestly), Sofa and Dodo's families are actually sad (probably don't realize how terrible they were to their kids but they still mourn the loss of them), and Remi's family probably is the same as Sofa and Dodo except maybe this is a wake-up call for Eve and she kinda snaps out of her own self hatred for a bit (she doesn't care for her dad or his wife's pain, but now she at least has some kind of connection with them from a shared emotion).

If only one survives, doesn't matter who, but Sayu would be given to NSR with only some input from the survivor based on their talent. Tila would continue to be the voice of Sayu, Sofa would be the lead editor to keep the Sayu feel of videos the same, and Remi would still be the main artist behind Sayu. The only one I can see not even wanting to continue with Sayu would be Dodo if he was the only survivor, and it's easy enough to just get a new mo-cap person behind the scenes, so if Dodo is the only one alive then Sayu officially belongs entirely to NSR and he just goes to living with his parents and trying to restart his life over.

Then there's the possibility that only 2 survive and 2 die. I'm not gonna go into each combination, but most likely the 2 that survive stay and continue working on Sayu. As a way to cope, keep their friends memories alive, and to just escape reality some more, trying to hide from the pain they feel. NSR would find some people to fill in the roles of whoever ended up dying (so like a new artist and editor if Remi and Sofa died, or voice actor and mo-cap person if Tila and Dodo died).

All the deaths up to this point were accidents that caused 2 or more of the Sayu Crew to die. However, if only one of them die, it would be a different story.

Sofa dying would probably be an allergic reaction and not having their epipen on them. In that case I can kinda see Sayu almost falling apart since Sofa is one of the most important members of the team and the Crew would probably not want to immediately replace Sofa, only for them to realize they have no idea what the fuck they are doing and have to have Tatiana assign them a new editor.

Dodo's death is probably some kind of accident. Maybe a medical one because his parents want him to get another non-mandatory surgery for whatever reason (thinking it would help him in life) and he ends up dying from complications. I can see Tila taking over Dodo's position while also being the voice actor (a lot of people probably even see improvement with Sayu's movement and voice acting, making people praise the change in direction which makes the crew feel horrible, especially Tila).

Remi's death is... idk. At first I was gonna say his dad or mom might have done something to him, but honestly I want to move away from that storyline with Remi. He still feels like he can't come out because his parents aren't very supportive, but I'm seeing them now as more neglectful than abusive like I initially made them. So anyway, I can probably see Remi trying to run away from home, trying to find a place to be accepted but can't go to the rest of the Crew as their fams would probably make him go back to his family (Sofa's family probably would have taken Remi in). So Remi ends up getting hurt in the street or something and ends up passing away.

At that point I doubt Remi would have been working with the Crew for a bit, only letting them know he ran away and wouldn't be coming back. So Sayu at that point has been using premade art that Remi made before leaving but once his death was announced then the Crew were given a new artist (someone who could copy Remi's style pretty well so fans weren't hit with another dramatic shift in style). The Crew takes it hard and I can see Eve probably taking it hard too since Remi would have left a note saying why he ran away with not having support from family, especially Eve, as some of the main reasons for his departure. So this would be another way that might make Eve snap out of her pretty selfish mindset and try to think about her actions she had towards Remi all his life.

For Tila, I see her as either dying by her family's abuse or killing herself as the main ways she dies. Either way is a tragedy and no one knows "why" it happened since the family would have did their best to cover both ways up. Honestly if Tila is murdered they would make it look like a suicide, and if she killed herself then the family would hide any note or whatever she would have tried to leave behind. The public would just be given a story of how Tila killed herself because of her schizophrenia or something like that to make people unsympathetic to her (yes, her family is not above weaponizing their daughter's mental illness).

Tatiana probably thinks something more happened, but she doesn't go prying because the public and police believe the families story so there's no real reason to doubt the claims in possibly make NSR look like they are harassing a grieving family. She just gets a new voice actor for Sayu as quickly as possible (though honestly I think in this scenario the rest of the Crew would be willing to just give NSR all the rights to Sayu and quit because of what happened to Tila).

So yeah, that's basically what happened. I didn't really go into any other characters' reactions because they'd all basically be the same. Mama is sad for the death of all/some/one of the Crew, Yinu has very conflicted emotions, Neon J is devastated (probably the only one who tries to get any justice for the more shady deaths of the Crew), 1010 doesn't care because they are too worried about themselves now that possibly Sayu is going to be decomissioned (depending on who died), Eve is mainly neutral except with some of Remi's deaths but even then she is still pretty numb, Tatiana sees their loss as an awful tragedy but still has to continue looking to the future and having to either continue Sayu or get a new charter, and DJSS is probably really upset (especially in Sofa's death scenarios) since he was kinda close with some of the Crew before being fired.

I don't know, this is the best you're gonna be getting I guess. I'm kinda getting tired of talking about what would happen if a character dies and how people would react. Most of the answers are just gonna be the same. NSR tries to continue the charter (in Sayu and 1010's case) or just gets a new charter entirely. None of the cast are really close in this AU so a death of a co-worker (or even family in Eve's case) isn't really going to change how people feel, just make them a little sad for a bit before moving on with life.

[transhawks]

It's fine - I'm okay with well-reasoned additions on my post. I've said this a couple times over the years, this is my hero ACADEMIA so we're all peer reviewing each other's articles (in my head). I like people engaging with me. Also, just to make my inherent biases ahead of time, because I am biased, I'm anarchocommunist and I've also been through a lot of shit in my 29 years of life. Like my views on the League and BNHA in general are colored by my deeply held political views and also my experiences with addiction, mental illness, and losing friends to those (aka burying someone). When I argue my perspectives, it's from the view of someone who has been in very fucked up social circles and groups and done fucked up shit. I'm also very cynical. 1. The Crabs in Bucket Anyway, so, first off my intent with linking the crab metaphor tweet was less in about the society saving the crabs, but about friend groups. I should have been clearer in my intent, but it was really more about the idea that you can't like break out of the bucket. As a poster replied about the crabs pulling down the crab trying to climb out, this is an actual concept called crab mentality and it has a wikipedia page.

So, one aspect of the metaphor is simply this, and I think this puts what I'm trying to get at better: Everyone's burning around you, how do you know you're on fire?

That's my own quote on this idea that sometimes people in situations akin to a boiling pot can't realize they're being boiled because everyone around them is. You don't see out of the bucket. The lid is on. Everyone is boiling to death but that's everyone so why should you be alarmed? Or just more concerned than usual. What I'm trying to say is that friend groups or social circles like the League of Villains often have normalization of behaviors and views that are maladaptive or self-harming but no one sees this for what it is because the entire friend group's perspective on normalcy is so skewed that no one questions it. I've experienced this with my alcohol addiction which I didn't realize was one until many years later, and what delayed my realization was that most people around me were worse. I wasn't blacking out due to drinking, so how does that compare with friends who were, or those who are doing ket or tina? I had the "least" issues so my brain translated that to "I'm doing okay, comparatively". I didn't have people outside the bucket (except my parents, who threw me out) to tell me that it was all fucked up. I just had the other crabs, who were boiling faster. I think about this a lot with the League and expressions of suicidal thoughts, depersonalization for others, etc. The normal reaction to Tomura's story to Ujiko is to say, "Bitch, you're fucking depressed, get help." and help him find a therapist, or some college kid selling prozac on grindr. That didn't happen. Why?

Well, look around him. Spinner's essentially so empty inside he latches on to people and make them his whole personality and is willing to throw away ideals and beliefs. Twice feels like he needs to beg other people to care about him and that he has to pay people back for being decent humans towards him, exclaiming he doesn't give a damn what happens to himself. Toga's whole shtick is loving people who she sees capable of being loved because she isn't and thus wanting to be "them" as her love (and thus be capable of being loved herself). Dabi? Mentally, Dabi has been ready to die since...well, forever, but definitely upon returning home and seeing his dad beat the shit of his brother and the family just seeming to exist even after his "death". Physically, he's been planning a murder-suicide attempt for years. Like the only one who seems "okay" is Sako, and Atsuhiro has a whole fucking identity crisis he's busy ignoring. No one is going to tell Tomura, "Hey that's not good, that's not healthy, and all those feelings are signs of mental illness and probably come from trauma you need to work on." Because none of them are in the space to be able to do so. If anything, they're the crabs pulling each other down. I don't think it's a "malicious" pulling down either. Misery loves company, and I rather boil to death with my friends than alone, yanno? When we talk about someone outside the bucket reaching in, it means someone who can see what's happening in the bucket but also sees the world outside and correctly look at the crabs and say, "y'all bitches cooking to death". It's really hard to get out of the bucket by yourself - especially with friends who...sometimes aren't ready to get better. Or never will - they'll just boil to death. 2. Keeping My Expectations Low

So, undoubtedly, I am cynical. There's a reason I used to agree with a lot of your viewpoints before I got so tired of hoping for things and feeling frustration and disappointment. One of those frustrations was about the idea of the bucket tipping over and putting the fire out. Let's discuss my post about the realities of BNHA. BNHA is a manga published in a very conservative magazine that still defends not having women at Weekly Shounen Jump (Plus did have some) as late as 2019. It is aimed at twelve year-old Japanee boys, even if that's no longer the main readership, boys whose families can allow for a weekly magazine subscription. It is published in a overall very conservative industry, in a socially conservative country. Superhero stories, also, appeal to more conservative mindsets by their natures too. Horikoshi is an Alan Moore fanboy, and he's even made Tomura quote Rorschach, and Watchman, of course, is a long fuck you letter to the Superhero genre. 'Tis a pity that Moore would likely hate BNHA because some of his criticism still end up being followed through on.

But superheroes struggle to address the political ascendancy of reactionary authoritarianism. That’s in large part because superheroes are traditionally conservative and elitist. The superhero genre has always had a strong bias toward defending the status quo. It’s no coincidence that the genre reaches its peaks of popularity during times when the culture is focused on the spectre of rising threats from abroad. Superheroes are almost always dedicated to stopping someone bad from changing things, not changing things that are already bad. "In 2018, Superhero stories doubled down on maintaining the status quo"

One of my longest criticisms of this manga has been that Deku is a reactive not proactive character. He's had multiple times to at least reflect on things that have happened to him and connect the dots at least about the hegemony at play in his life, in the villains he interacts with, and all around him (hello OH arc!), but it doesn't happen, and that's by design. Because heroes defend, not change. Change, meaningful, consuming and liberating change is dangerous. To enact change is to enact instability, and that's exactly what people like heroes want to prevent. It's also just the nature of the genre (and people in general) to care about individualized violence over collective violence in general. Tomura at least gives us some discussion on what violence is deemed okay in the very beginning but it misses something else - we can see Tomura destroying the area around Jaku as violence, and catastrophe, but let's say the decades of government inaction about big heteromoprhs being unable to live in Tokyo, the capital, isn't violence? One is immediate, sensationalized, but the other persistent and perpetual and happens to a marginalized group, but also is enacted not by an individual or small group, but by the state. So that violence is okay. Or the violence inherent to the poor not getting second chances - Twice's story is about a poor man fighting the Japanese legal system and losing, and thus losing an ability to have a livelihood that's legal. He is thrown out and forced to live a life on the margins. To prevent more Twices is to upend a legal system that distributes blame on both parties in accidents in Japan, to prevent more Twices is to remove poverty so that there is never any desperation that leads to crime. Can Horikoshi show us a society where poverty is abolished? Truly? Now, I'll give Horikoshi some credit - I truly think he's at least setting up a critique of one the foundations of the Superhero story. I write about his critique of the Great Man Theory here. And here's the same article above talking about how the Great Man Theory is crucial to superhero stories.

The superhero genre’s super-skepticism about radical beneficial change is complemented by a super-skepticism about collective action. The whole point of the genre is that some people have great powers — and some people don’t. Those who do are the heroes. Those who don’t are romantic interests, bystanders, and potential victims. The story isn’t about them. Change comes about not through community action or political efforts, but through the outsize actions of special, strong saviors... A narrative about special powers can’t be a narrative about solidarity, and a narrative that isn’t about solidarity can’t really be a narrative about change, justice, or hope. "In 2018, Superhero stories doubled down on maintaining the status quo"

I think if Horikoshi is attempting any subversion or commentary on the superhero genre as a whole it is the Great Man of it all, and he did that by showing us Toshinori's ideology of being a Pillar failing. That it takes a truly One for All rather the individualized All For One for something to be achieved.

But otherwise?

This is just the wrong story for all that. At most we'll get lip service about the ranking system ending, some anti-discrimination laws for heteromorphs, and likely a reform of the HPSC (or dissolvement but I have little hope for that because Hori likes drawing Mera stressed out). The hegemonic structures that have created the League in general are not going to be fully removed because then that tells little Japanese boys reading Weekly Shounen Jump that perhaps the hold the LDP has on Japanese politics for a good few decades isn't inevitable and they don't have to sit down and swallow shoganai culture. And we (WSJ, the old boys club that run it) don't want that. Ultimate, the fire won't be put out - the crabs we care about will be pulled out, and maybe the pot will be put down to simmer, not boil, but the story isn't about the fire being put out as the crabs being taken out. And the thing is any continuation will have to come to face with the contradiction that the fire has to be put out. Which is why I hesitate to think there will be a sequel. For one, Horikoshi has lost a decade of his life to the overwork, insanely exploitative manga industry and suffers from nightmares and insomnia and clear health issues due to it. I'm fine if he retires and just learns to have actual conversations with women tbh. Like that dude needs to learn to a be person. He's been in the industry since 21 years of age, whether as an assistant (still fulltime, exploitative) or his failing series of manga until BNHA. We've all see that Oda WSJ schedule. None of that allows for the lengthy process of having a good friend group or finding a mate and starting a family that typically people want in their 20s and 30s. But the core of BNHA isn't in turning off that fire. It's people willing to reach out and save those crabs and those crabs not realizing they're boiling. It's not the right genre or writer for the story we want, and being okay with that is probably the key not being disapointed with the inevitable lack of resolution towards the issues the hero system has. When I make my posts, what I'm trying to do is seriously minimize how much people are going to be upset with what they see as a lackluster ending. Whether it's because they're missing the cultural context towards narratives like the Todoroki family, or just not realizing that the stories they want will not be published in WSJ, I just see people getting more and more disappointed and frustrated and never realizing the key is adjusting their own expectations. Cynical of me? Yes, but I swear it makes things enjoyable when you expect little and are grateful for the little crumbs you do get in media.

Honestly the best summation I think of an issue I've had with a lot of reactions is it's born out of people really invested in the LoV staying in the bucket. The boiling bucket of crabs. This tweet spells out clearly but for those of us twitter averse it's this:

It's nice to have other crabs in the same bucket, but they're still boiling to death. The League are the crabs. They can't tip over the bucket over the fire: they're dying. They also don't see a way out of the bucket. Someone has to turn off the fire or pull them out. Someone on the outside, who isn't boiling to death.