#well rot in hell you dont even deserve it

[threepandas]

Bad End: Preserve Us

You know how in conservation biology you sometimes try to introduce a pair to be mated and one will just... just fuckin' merc' the other? Just absolutely obliterate them in a hissing, growling, nightmare ball of fury? Before anyone can stop them? Territorial and (to put it lightly) "uninterested", dispite your desperate desire to save their species from extinction, and need for them to get frisky?

I know.

Holy SHIT do I know.

There's a lot of reasons. Ways you can (hopefully) get around it. But first? Is finding out WHY it happened. Was it just the one? The environment? Were they sick? Or... as is the case sometimes, did they decide their Handler was their mate? Some species only mate once. Are loyal for life. You gotta work around that.

Which is all well and fine and good.

When we're talking about ANIMALS.

Non-sentient, non-sapient animals! Not ALIEN SPECIES! What the ABSOLUTE FRESH HELL did they expect from me!? Compliance?! This was UNETHICAL! Monstrous! I had been trying to slip my gaurds long enough to radio for help SINCE I GOT HERE.

I hope the fuckers ROTTED in whatever their Gods considered a Hell.

"Conservation facility" my ENTIRE ASS. You can't run CONSERVATION EFFORTS like this on SENTIENTS. Eugenics loving, atrocity fetishizing, immoral BASTARDS!!! And they KNEW it too. They HAD too! Or they wouldn't be HIDING it! Fucking KIDNAPPING scientists! Biologists! Doctors!

I was on my ways to study Lekku monkeys!

God...

I'm? I'm so tired of being pissed.

Furious and outraged and SCARED. Horrified and sick. There are PEOPLE here. Kids! And I don't... oh god, I don't... H-How LONG has this been going ON? Why did no one NOTICE?

Every day I feel my heart break. The desire to scream and scream and never STOP, grow inside me. I have to get out. I have to get us ALL out. Get these people FREE. Do SOMETHING. But I am forced to "conserve" the species assigned to me. The group assigned to me.

It's killing my love for the field. Making a mockery of everything I worked for.

I don't... I don't think my hands will ever be clean again.

But I have to help. Do everything I can. Make hell a little kinder, if nothing else. At least while I figure out a way OUT. My group deserves better. The groups I do not work with, deserve better.

I disguise games as "testing". Pages and pages of meaningless numbers ans scores. INSIST that enrichment is the key to success. Diet is EVERYTHING. Oh, and habitat? Well unless we can mimic their habitat there's no WAY they'll "breed".

No, no, using machines would stress them out too much.

It's like you DONT want babies!

Who's the expert here? That's RIGHT! Dr. Cho, but FAILING her and like five other people? Me. And I know for a FACT they are pulling the same scam. We ALL fucking hate you. Dr. Cho has KIDS, you FUCKS. Hasn't seen her son in YEARS thanks to you bastards. He was engaged. She's probably missed his WEDDING thanks to you!

Getting distracted, spiraling again, gotta stop DOING that.

It wont help anyone.

But God, if my brain doesn't slowly feel like it's shorting out the longer I'm here. Stress is called the silent killer for a reason. Or what that something else? Fuck. I can't even look it up! Bastards cut us off from the galactic web. Full information blackout. Because of COURSE they did... can't risk us rightfully calling for help.

Getting the Feds involved to shut this hell pit of a black site DOWN. Or a "whatever it truely is" site. Because it sure as SHIT has nothing to do with conservational biology. Except maybe the abuse of it.

But that doesn't help me right now.

Focus, damn it!

The Yanderens. Old, absurdly rare, nearly extinct, with a home planet they'd reduced to uninhabitable wastelands millennia ago due too... something. No one knew what. There had definitely been fighting. It WAS documented they were excellent fighters. Ruthless ones at that. But it was ALSO documented they strongly pack bonded.

There had been a lot of strongly worded warnings on what few documation my captures were able to find, translate, then shove at me. But honestly? They said the same thing about humans. Ooooh big scary persistent hunters~ oh nooooo! Watch out for the omnivores with a history of war! Sins of the father and we are defined by our diets! Class systems! Let's all JUDGE each ooooootheeeeer~!

Yeah, no. Not buying it.

Especially when the "warnings" were so damn vague and poorly documented. All "the HORRORS!" and "we barely SURVIVED!". Cause honestly? The Yanderens I was watching over? Easily the most mild and temperate individuals I had ever met. No tantrums from the kids, no big emotional meltdowns, just curiosity and at WORST? Mild frustration.

It made everything ten thousand times worse for me, that these poor people were in this hellish place. They were calm. Curious. Meant for greater, BETTER things! They should be out, playing and learning. Exploring and enjoying peaceful strolls in some art gallery or zen garden somewhere! Not... not this sterile fucking LAB.

But then M-17 loses his SHIT.

And now I'm kinda panicking. Because F-6 is not just dead, God rest her soul (she didn't deserve this. Oh god. She was so SWEET.), but M-17 might just be too, soon. If I can't find out what HAPPENED. Because if he's "feral" or "diseased" or whatever other horrifying terminology they end up using? They DO something about it.

And I can't actually stop them.

I... I don't know if it was a trauma response. Or I did something wrong. I could PROBABLY pass it off as my needing more studies into their observed "mating habits"? That... that I somehow... turned it... uuuuh... dominance battle? Shit. Where are my notes?!

F-6 is DEAD and its all my fault.

She was such a cuddle fiend too. Always excited to hear about my studies, from before. My life. Wanted to join me after we got out of here. I never should have let her volunteer. Granted, she wouldn't have taken no for an answer. Wanted to spend the pregnancy plotting our escape. Asked me to help raise the kid once we got out. Had a whole grand plan. But I...And I...

God...

I should have said NO. Insisted. It was just so hard, when F-6 had made it all sound like it would be okay. Like she had a plan and all I need to do was trust her. Believe in her. Then we could be free.

I had hoped M-17 would work best. He was always the most agreeable and quick on the uptake. I figured... well... ha ha. God, I'm such an IDIOT. I should have CHECKED. Who KNOWS what happened before I arrived? What triggered I just accidentally rammed my foot into? FUCK! I sweep everything from me desk onto the ground. Don't give I shit that I'll have to clean it up later,

I had figured M-17 would be COOL with it.

This place is getting to me, isn't it?

Why the FUCK would anyone be COOL with getting jumped? Bred like an animal? Shoved in some random ass room, with a vaguely familiar stranger, and told "now fuck. We want a literal litter from you two"? All while some biologist watchs and makes god damned NOTES!?

Of course he fought back. OF COURSE he didn't stop!

The only one there he could trust was himself.

I...I'm becoming a monster... aren't I?

Oh god.

At least we're in the satellite facility. The gaurds are definitely going to rat me out, but the news will take time to filter back. And... and the Yanderens being so "dangerous" might work in my favor. I... I can spin this. I HAVE to spin this. I can't let TWO people die for my fuck up.

I promised myself I would get as many people out as I could. I refuse to back out now. Even if that means crying, puking, then going out there to lie my ASS off. This was TOTALLY NORMAL. In fact, expected! Yep! It means that's we've determined that M-17 is the alpha Yanderen! A thing that is both REAL and possible to BE!

I rinse my mouth, stomach empty. Crying has exhausted me. But I can't give up. Too many lives count on me now. I... I wish so badly I was just a nobody again. Just some random biology student, trying to make a name for herself. Being "important" is a CURSE.

I try not to chug my water as I half stumble out of the glorified shoebox that is my bathroom into the much larger and Fancier CLOSET that is my room. Truely, no expense spared, for the captives they ripped away from their lives. So glad I am here willingly and of my own volition.

I gather myself. Finally ready to go and try to untangle the mess I have made of everything. When a deep booming alarm rattles my bones. The lights flickering to red. Blast doors slide down, SLAM shut over the transparent recessed bit of wall that counts as my window, the door to the rest of the facility.

Trapping me inside my small room.

Almost immediately after, an EXPLOSION rocks the world hard enough to knock me from my feet. Only the bed's limited padding keeping me from a nasty concussion. The edge of it still ramming painfully into my shoulder. Another explosion. Then another. I sit for a long, terrible, second stunned.

The moment passes.

I scramble on my hands and knees for the in facility communication device that I had knocked from my desk in anger, grief. Not daring to stand lest I be thrown down again. I manage to find it as the world shakes again for the fifth time. Followed by what sounds like gun fire out in the halls.

I fling myself back towards my shitty little bunk. Drag every bit of padding and protection I can, down and under it with me. If the roof goes? I want shock absorption. If shots get through the door? I want something to slow those blasts down. Anything. ANYTHING! To increase my fucked chances of surviving.

I burrito up and wriggle back as deep as I can. The world muffled but ending just outside my crawlspace. Then I desperately try to get one of the others on the line. I got nothing but chaos. Running. Running. Hiding. And Dead.

Dead. Dying.

Remember me.

And GONE.

Some of them fighting with their groups too freedom. Some being targeted right along side their captors. Others savaged by the ACTUAL animals they had been working with, the one's Galacticly deemed too dangerous for effort like this. Someone or something had set EVERYONE free. A simultaneous attack on all fronts that our captors could not put down or escape.

The Yanderens were out there.

Oh god. Please let them be okay. They wer-

My thoughts ground to a halt as M-32 LAUNCHED his tiny body onto the screen of one of the security feeds I was desperately looking through. F-6 had figured out how to get us a backdoor to them a long time ago. M-32 was just a kid. A small, soft, cuddly little thing that loved to lean against me and crawl into my lap. All cherubic cheeks and cute little curls. Shy!

Yet I watched... in mounting horror... as like a lion on some unfortunate animal, he landed on a gaurds back. Small arms going around his body in a mockery of a hug. Head tilting so he could BITE at the back of the man's neck, small hands clawing and ripping at weak points in his armor, as he screamed. Thrashed. Tried desperately to get M-32 OFF of him.

There was so much blood.

My hands were shaking. So much, I accidentally hit the next screen button. Jerked my thumb back. But... but oh god. There was F-26. Using the butt of a rifle to slam down against the head of a scientist. Again and again and again. Long after the begging and thrashing stopped. I flipped again. M-4? No... please not M-4. Not the soft spoken and wise...

I watched as he grinned, a cold thing, and shot out another joint. His foot on the chest of the head scientist who had moved him to a different group. In the background, his supervisor lay dead. They had not died quickly. The head scientist was begging. A mess of tears and pain. M-4 shot another joint, pressing his foot down harder.

I wanted to be sick.

I flipped again. And again. And AGAIN.

H...Had I known them at ALL? Like demons wearing the faces of those I'd known. People I'd trusted. Not a SINGLE ONE was... oh... oh god. F-6. Had she been too? Would I have ever known? Was THIS what all those warnings meant? I couldn't think. Couldn't breath. Had... Had never had a panic attack but... BUT-!

I wheezed.

Shook.

"Oh, Clever giiiirl~" A familiar voice sang, before a blood splattered face flickered into being on the screen in my hands. "Where aaaare yoooou~?"

M-17. He'd somehow managed to take over the security cameras. That or the communication feed. His eyes were bright. A grin on his face like I'd never seen from him. ALIVE in a way I'd never seen him. The excitement transformed his face. No longer softly doll like, but something DANGEROUS. Unhinged. His eyes dilated and deadly teeth on display.

"Come out, come out wherever you aaaare~. I have so much to TELL you! We have so much to DO! I'm going to make you MINE sweetheart! No one else can have you. So come out. I won't hurt you much, I promise! Just gotta make you mine then we can leave okay~?"

Furious snarls echoed through the halls. Male and female alike. Old and young. I... I recognized each of those voices. What was HAPPENING?

"Aaaah? Did you TRASH really think you DESERVED her? Ha! Please." M-17 grin was cruel. Mocking. "You don't have a chance in hell of taking what's MINE."

His eyes seems to shift away from unseen enemies and back, somehow, to me. Warming to something euphoric. Resting his head on his hand as if to consider me. His fingers spread, stroking his own face, as if the desire to TOUCH was simply too great. As if what he was imagining was bleeding over into the real world.

"Oh clever girl~ my clever, clever girl~♡ I can't wait til it's just you and ME. Start think of where you want to go first, okay? We're going to get married. Have that child you wanted me for. All the things you ever dreamed~♡ I'm going to have you all to myself. No more annoying others. Ah~ can't wait to find you soon!"

"But first?"

"May the best of us Win."

[lancer-elvis]

Woah mama this is your daily reminder to give your AGNI Clones a well deserved hug, they will appreciate it.

Impermanent stains. Flecks of paint, thrown desperately from a brush in an attempt to own the canvas. So many star children, so much life, flicked onto the disk without care. Trapped in their metal boxes, muzzled in masks of skin and memories.

Woah mama you aren't real. You are on the transport, asleep, iced. You're just a hallucination.

Oh yes, surely I must be one of them, right? Nice little blinkspace splinter, rotting away in its casket? Oh oh oh, you know what, maybe I am one of those Souls the Aun have, maybe that's why SSC wants me oh so badly. Come ooon Clone, you aren't that daft. You haven't imprisoned shit, or the Armory before you, or those morons in the Garden before them. I am simply hitching a ride~

W-wh... What do you wan-

What do I want? Well... There are so many things. But namely, it is this. Do you know how you were made?

I... Woah mama I... I remember the vats... And...

Oh come on don't bore me with that crap Singer! You were made with the help of the best resources the Armory had on offer. Perfect, disease free, resilient biological material. Subdermal chrome, defense systems, subjectivity enhancements, an inbuilt sensor array for fucks sake! And only the best neural mods, of course, had to make sure you were a nice little vegetable for them to line up against a revolutionary blockade. A brainless walking joke with a tommy. The gun roars, the bullets sing, and those poor, starving rebels on the blockade go pop and pop and POP-

STOP! STOP IT, STOP IT, STOP IT-

Faaace it, little Mannequin. You were made to be a weapon, nothing but another of the Think Tank's cruel jokes. But you couldn't even do that right! Found your conscience. Ran away. Now begging for scraps under SSC's thumb.

So here's my question to you, Singer. You really think you were the first? Do you expect yourself to be the last?

... Woah... Mama... I don't KNOW! I DONT FUCKING KNOW OKAY JUST SHUT UP!

But you do know Singer~ Of course you know, because it's obvious~ Guns, mechs, you. Humanity will keep making these cancers with which to rend itself apart. Forever, and ever and ever. And that's all there is to it.

... And so what?!

So, Singer, a long time ago, I wanted to be the last cancer humanity ever grew in their 'vats'.

Woah mama that sure didn't pan out for you now did it?

No. But I can still be the cancer that finally kills your bloated corpse of a species.

... Woah... Mama, you know you can't do that, physically... I-I mean I saw you, that night on the train, I saw you in that coffin. You are nothing. Just some snake. How in all hells are you planning on blowing up a million worlds?

Oh Singer. You still don't understand. I don't have to destroy anything. Besides, I must admit, on that front...

WARNING: HOSTILE SIGNATURE DETECTED

You humans have me beat.

Woah mama this is Hound Dog! Gheist, Strelka, respond! Come in, transport is being flan-

Who are you calling little one? Your friends? Ooh, slow on the uptake once again, aren't you?

N... N-no they-

Paid you? They needed your knowledge of the facility. A facility that stored the greatest breakthrough in weapons research since spool guns. Surely you should've known. They can't afford witnesses.

WARNING: MULTIPLE TARGET LOCKS, SATURATION MISSILES ON APPROACH

I enjoyed our little chats, Singer. I'd wish your spirit safe passage through the Duat, but me and it's keeper don't see eye to eye.

Woah mama wait no please you can't leave me her-

*explosion* *resonance in the receiver unit makes 6 seconds kfsound illegible*

-se. Anything.

... Fine then. But know that this is not mercy.

*pilot begins to choke* *black mist envelops the cockpit* *another explosion carves its mark into the mech*

W-woa... What... *Cough* what is this?!

A gate of dreams. Come. Let us see what regrets await you in the Great Deep.

*a third missile strikes the mech with a bag*

Moments before the mech is blown away, the cockpit and pilot spontaneously de-manifest from baseline reality. The location of the pilot's body is unknown at this time.

Additionally, the visual distortion inside of the Manu containment unit altered, so that it appeared to contain 11 discarded snake skins of exaggerated size. The expected distortion replaced it 3 hours later.

It is the belief of Gheist that the pilot had attempted some jury-rigged attempt to teleport, potentially involving channeling a portion of the Subject's power out of Manu. However, a true gate formation wouldn't have been possible, due to the Subject's deactivated state. Without any possibility of recovering the remains, the pilot is presumed dead.

[clearnachopirate]

not to turn my page into dead boy detectives brain rot but

imagine youre simon (Edwin's classmate who he saw in hell). no, seriously,

so youre simon, a 16 y/o boy in 1916. presumably youre religious, and even in the extremely rare case youre not, queerness as a whole is still considered an illness and treated with genuine torture or death.

you are queer. and you think someone else might be as well. a well spoken though awkward classmate by the name of Edwin, who occasionally wears a lovely cap you think he looks swell in. so one day, you take the cap, hoping it will finally get him to talk to you. it doesnt work how you want it. and he avoids you. doesnt return your feelings. your feelings that are inherently wrong in the first place.

when you hear the other lads going on abt a prank for Edwin, you think seeing him scared of nothing might just help you get over him, so you comply.

except thats not what happens.

the boy who you love (or at least really like) is dead. you are dead. and you are in hell. exactly where everyone has said people like you go. and its what you deserve

you listen to the headmaster, because if you had listened to the people in your life and ignored your feelings, you might not be here. you wouldnt have gone along with such a stupid plan. you wouldnt have killed him.

and sometimes he visits, Edwin does, and he says all the things you already know, but it hurts so much more coming out of the mouth you had shamefully wanted to kiss.

so when he comes in again, its nothing new.

Edwin doesnt yell, and he doesnt reach to hurt you. Edwin says you dont deserve this pain, that you can leave, that he had left, and he was on his way out again. That he wants you to come with. That neither of you deserved what you had been given.

its only after he leaves that you turn back to your book that you realize its gone. along with it that shame you have felt for nearly your entire life, because Edwin had been like you. and he was free, there was something better out there for him.

there might just be something better out there for you too.

[katyspersonal]

thank u for pointing out the unfair finlenia stances in the fandom..a lot of people dont get that not liking a ship is sometimes a taste thing and not bigotry. i personally hc malenia as demi and i like to imagine she kept a professional relationship with her soldiers but finlay was a big admirer. i dont want to get hate for this take though

Aww anon come here;

I'd love to say that disliking a ship is always a taste, not "sometimes", but... well, some people who are invested in shipping will prefer only straight ships and consider gay ones "sin"/degeneracy/whatever led them to it. I haven't run into this sort of fans in a VERY long while but I doubt they went 100% extinct.

Nonetheless, it IS important to not instantly assume the worst about the person just because they don't share the vision of the ship that the 'cool kids' of the fandom decided is canon! Even if initial concern comes from a 'reasonable' place (like not wanting those conservative bigots to shame people in the fandom), this sort of fear and alertness ALWAYS ends up hurting waaaaaay more innocent people than it punishes the guilty ones! This principle applies not just to fandomry discourse of course but everywhere; being hyper-alerted and always set on detecting the enemy just inevitably turns you into THESE guys:

(In case if you don't know of Bloodborne, these guys are pretty much the mentality and reflection of what happens when you become so paranoid you'll rather have many innocents executed than "risk to let a beast slide", super smart and striking portrayal of our clown world ssdhfhds All this to say is that I do not DEhumanise these haters, I know where it came from but I still disapprove of this culture of reactive paranoia)

Okay enough with my ENTP bullshit and back on the subject; aro/ace spectrum Malenia headcanons are valid! As well as your suggestion about her keeping professional distance with her knights. For example, it is reasonable to assume that she felt guilt since all her Knights inflicted inevitable decay on themselves to stand by her side:

What if Malenia had emotional barrier, if not deep guilt for existing, that no amount of Finlay's convincing that she wanted this fate could break? What if the issues Malenia developed through life of both idealisation and demonisation (both are dehumanising) made her push someone, especially a subordinate, away upon assuming they "don't know what they want"? What if she is afraid of relationship because, since Scarlet Rot can sprout stronger in reaction to emotional pain (as we seen from Millicent blooming if she was betrayed), Malenia is scared shitless to harm another person or herself should relationship ever cause deep pain? Or what if Malenia forsaken considering relationship altogether because she identifies as 'blade of Miquella' and is not willing for any bond to become more important than that (and someone can expect romantic love to eclipse familial one, it depends on the perspective).

There are many directions to take in either why Malenia might not love Finlay, love but not want to date Finlay, or not love/date anyone. Why she either can't or doesn't want to! I have a couple of two other mutuals who are scared to tell anyone they don't 'see' Finlenia because even a deep analysis of the character will be received as attempt to "invalidate a representation"! One of them also thinks Malenia ships don't work period because it's hard to let romantic feelings bloom under so much physical and mental illness, speaking from perspective of a person with physical disabilities and severe depression themselves! Also a very valid perspective! Again, do we then want to argue about whose projected experiences "deserve" validation and whose don't? The hell we do :/

In the end of the day 1) fandom is not a majority rule and thus they can't just "collectively decide" how to interpret canon that IS left open to different interpretations, especially using problems like bigotry as an excuse or even weaponizing their identities. What will happen if a lesbian saying the heretics that don't ship Finlenia are all homophobic meets a lesbian that also doesn't ship it? I don't wanna know. 2) culture of reactive paranoia is bad, let's NOT become Yharnam Huntsmen

[what-if-nct]

hiiii today's reminder is fuck moon taeil I take back every time I've wished him well or complained about him being treated badly, if everything I'm reading is true he deserves SO much worse. burning in hell is not enough, i need him to watch his life go up in flames and never be able to show his face in public again because wtf do you mean he was 24 and she was 12 and this has been going on for 6 fucking years what an absolute scumbag may he never know one single moment of peace for the rest of his miserable existence

He doesn't exist to me. To me, he is dead. when I first saw sex crimes I naively hoped it was something like prostitution but it is so so so much worse than I could have even imagined. It's absolutely disgusting, she was a baby, a baby!! What the hell. That poor girl. he is despicable. And I always say idols are no different than any random man on the street. I stand by that. You can hope their a safe person, but you can't just trust them. I am jaded cause I have been assaulted multiple times and once was by a woman. And you wouldn't expect a woman to do that but it's always someone you wouldn't expect. And I know we all wouldn't think taeil would be capable of something this horrible but at the end of the day we do not know these idols, we dont know what theyre up to, we dont know the kind of person they are. And I hope he gets exactly what he deserves. And I hope the victim is being supported, taken care of and has access to every resource she needs to heal. That poor baby did not deserve that to happen to her. And Taeil can honestly choke, fuck him. Hes a disgusting pathetic little man who deserves to rot. I got his poster in the walk album, and im so glad I didn't put it on my wall. I was just going to save my haechan pc from the album and leave it but it'd be better to just throw it away. Good riddance, he no longer exists. Fuck him.

[faiseuse-d-histoires]

Well, you saying you dont know the answer of what should happened to Pen tells me more than anything. What she did it wasnt that badN it wasnt that important. Really, marina like went really well, eloise have the pretty never bad bridgertons and all the money and beauty and the protection of her brother ( unlike Colin Who is hate by him) . Are you telling you are naking that problem for a silly beast comment?? Im sure you had call poor fst girl worst in school and here you are. You just hate her for the sake of it. Thats the truth, if your dislike was genuine for her actions you would knlw the answer. Just what i thought. Another buller. And please dont lie, you didnt like Pen from books either. For Kate and Anthony you base their personalities with the ones in the books ( she is nit a family person in the show) but for Pen you dont think of that cute girls in the book and críticamente the writer like you did with KA, you blame Pen, the wallflower

Just because the consequences are any less dire because others persons intervened doesn't erase that what show Penelope wrote was actually ruinous and malicious and could have been disastrous. It's actually quite sad that in need to defend her, you have to dismiss others' suffering, and banalize what she writes, what she makes money of.

One laughable thing is that you don't actually seem to have grasped that I was being sarcastic while saying "oh, I don't know". Had you read the entire post, you would have had your answer. What should happen to her? Well, show Penelope should learn that her words have consequences, can hurt people, ostracize them, ruin them. She should learn that she could have made Marina ostracized by her words, prompting the girl to dangerous options, just because she did not want her crush to marry her, and that it is not ok (and it even backfired on her, because by association, there was that disgrace on her family that prompted Eloise to seek LW to do something about it). She should learn that calling someone a beast, especially a WOC, certainly for comic relief, or even insulting anyone like that is not ok. That antagonizing the queen was never a good idea in the first place. She should learn that she cannot criticize one for not doing something when she actually made sure that person was stopped from actually doing anything about it, else it is very hypocritical. That by unravelling everyone's dirty laundry and even twisting things at her convenience, of course it can have dire consequences and she is responsible for it.

This season had people dismissing the consequences of her actions and praising her. That should not be the case. It is at least realistic to think at least some will just give her hell for it, and some families refuse to invite her.

That doesn't mean she can't make amends. That she deserves to be unloved and alone for the rest of her life, or to be bullied. Just that she should aspire to be a better person (she certainly could have the power to inspire more reflection about social classes, the status of women, etc), and not one that thrives on others'misery while still maintaining a holier-than-thou attitude. I certainly cannot root for that last kind of person.

You keep bringing up the body, the wallflower parts. You keep patting yourself in the shoulder, telling yourself you are right. At this point, it seems you are making your own story and do not read at all what I actually said. I can see clearly you need to vent and have your enemy (any unresolved issues, perhaps), and anyone would do, and perhaps it must feel very satisfying to throw hateful words while being anonymous, for you do so on and on (I will certainly not read the others that are rotting in my inbox, and that will find their place in the bin). It is still very much a coward and a bully's move.

[eliteseven]

So I finally gathered the courage to read the latest chapter and now that ive calmed down i would like to give a comment that isnt just incoherent screaming lol (obvious spoilers)

Holy shit that chapter was intense.

I know we talked about the idea of Shadowheart being controlled but I never considered it the other way around and it fucking broke me.😭 I would like to file a lawsuit for infliction of emotional distress (or i would if i had money lol) The way it turned the tables on Serena in the worst way to going from being abused to in an instant becoming the thing she never wanted to be and being powerless to stop it… fuck man. This poor woman 🥺 i just wanna hug her so bad! The pure horror all over her face and Shadowheart refusing to try and defend herself, just being so loving and supportive till the end just *gross sobbing

Ok can we talk about Nocturne for a minute. First of all the absolute relief that Nocturne was herself and not just a mindwiped thrall was a true blessing. I may or may not have internally screamed when i found out she kept the ring. Just the fact she still cared enough to notice and gave it back. The fact shes still such a good person after everything is so important to me cause it would be really easy for her to turn bitter and jealous but shes not and i love her so much even though she also makes me sad. Their relationship is so complicated and I’ll never not love it. Also love the idea of her transitioning to the harpers tbh. It suits her. Hopefully she can find much better company in that work and some much needed healing. It’s what she deserves.

The fact that we dont know what was lost, and even Serena doesnt know, is absolutely KILLING me. Like was it childhood memories? Was it sandcastles? Was it the moment she first fell for her? Or was it some random thing none of us even thought of as being important until now? That would be an interesting butterfly effect to think about cause some things we think are inconsequential and dumb can sometimes save the world. It would be spicy if we lost stuff from the nobleheart au where they met before the tadpole business, cause that was formative and a turning point for Serena, and if thats gone then neither of them will really know cause it was lost to Shadowheart years ago. At the very least I’m happy she remembers who she loves :)

Looking forward to seeing the aftermath and recovery from these two ❤️❤️❤️😊

Omg 😭🥰 getting to open this made me feel like a kid on Christmas lol so firstly, thank you for reading and making the effort to come on over and share your thoughts!!! ❤️ it’s always appreciated!!!

Onto the subject at hand 👀

Firstly!! I’m so glad you liked it! I’ve said it a billion times but writing action is like my least favorite thing ever so I’m glad you could like…understand it 😅

Yeah…Shar sucks 💀 I think she understood Serena’s deepest fears and utilized them well. Poor Shadowheart didn’t know what to do in that moment except…be there for her. even though her life was on the line. (Wyll is the MVP for taking that shot in the dark- literally!!!). Serena is going to have a very hard time coming to terms with that. She almost hurt her baby 🥺She’s livid that she was compromised and in a position to harm Shadowheart, Shadowheart is livid that Serena was dragged into this mess bc of her… they have some coping/healing to do. They both sorta just lived out part of their worst nightmares. But…give it time. They’ll grow from this.

Nocturne is a good bean 🥹💕 no way in hell I was gonna let her rot in the side-cloister lmao. I think she’d fit in well with the Harpers. I do think she loves Shadowheart- to an extent. Maybe not like full blown romance but she definitely had feelings for her growing up and I think she’s still kinda weak about her. She was super gentle with Serena because she recognized her, too. So this was nice because Nocturne got to repay Shads, and she’s free to pursue her own life now, outside the cloister. That love for Shadowheart will always be there 🥰 now Shadowheart can check in on her and make sure she’ll thrive!

Yeah…tricky thing, memories 😅 you’ll find out what she’s lost in the next chapter, and probably over the course of several more. I had to take away enough to be meaningful, but also refrain from leaving her with no memories- because she’s still clearly in love with Shadowheart, remembers her mother, etc. you take too much away, and that changes. So I had to balance it out a bit lmao.

Certain things, potentially even people who were important to Serena, are really gone, though. Just luck of the draw with whatever memories were at the forefront of her mind when she was getting wiped, I suppose. You have to admire the way she fought to cling to every last memory of Shadowheart, though 🥺💕

But they’re safe and sound now 🥰 and the healing can begin! I hope you enjoy what’s to come!!! (I heard there’s a wedding around the corner lmao) thank you so much for reading and sharing these incredibly kind words!!!

[mspeevee]

Would it help more to ask you questions so you can vent, or would you prefer comfort? If so, would you prefer reassurance or advice?

I know it's a lot, and I don't want to condenscend. But I do promise that you aren't doing anything wrong by feeling this way. Take as much time as you need <3

i just wish i felt like i was important to my friends enough that i was worth the time i put into them back

i wasn't gonna vent but then i exploded anyways.

the gist is that multiple times now i've felt like i do all this effort, messaging first, making art (i don't do it expecting anything back), sharing my life with people only to receive like, appreciation but not reciprocation. and then i watch them do all of that for other people and i can't help but feel like it's my fault. like i am just so replaceable.

and then when i am hurting so bad i understand they don't know what to say me, hell they prolly have my vent and complaining tags blocked i'm sure, but i feel left to rot and seethe until i fucking hate them. and then i feel bad about it, cuz i don't want to, but i'm so tired of feeling this way every few months. it makes me wish i were dead because i don't see any point in going on if no one genuinely cares if i'm in pain or not. not even a simple "hey im sorry you're going through this but i care". i get ignored. and i feel like it reflects my worth to them.

and rn i can't blame myself for feeling so angry about it too when i feel like i'm bleeding out with their backs turned to me. and maybe that's dramatic but i'm not exactly rational right now anyways so.

and later on i prolly won't blame them or anything, i know this is all because my mental health is bad and my brain tortures me using them against me, but when it happens so often and i feel like i'm finally getting better only for something random to set me off into wanting to stop existing again i'm like, well what's the fucking point??

would they even cry about me for that long? would me leaving leave any impact longer than a week? a month? would they regret not taking every chance i gave them to engage with me? did i deserve their time at all anyways? am i selfish for interpreting continual silence as dismissal?

this applies to literally everything but i cannot blame myself for not knowing how people think when they don't tell me. i can't know if anyone likes my art if they don't like it or reblog it or tell me. i can't know that you told your friends you really enjoyed a post on my blog if that's the only people you told.

and obviously that extends to me, too, how can they know i'm slowly resenting them if i dont say something? but isn't that so cruel of me to mention? isn't it so mean of me to make them feel bad for doing harmless things that just so happen to be used as ammo against me because of my own problems by my own brain? should i just stop making friends? where do i give up here? where do i work on it?

honestly i'd love advice, idk how to cope like this. everything online just says therapy but that's not an option for me. im trying so hard to practice mindfulness and challenging the thoughts but they seem so right and like there's so much "proof". "oh you did all this for your friend but they never did it back but look now they're doing it with this new friend! and it's not the first time either, how many times will you assume you mean as much to them as they do to you."

i wish i wasnt struggling alone. even tho i know i'd just think they're lying if they ever reached out to me at least i would remember they tried when i started to come out of this ditch. but no one wants to try with me anymore, and it's my fault.

[otherwordlyimp]

I do not like oversharing for a reason ..

I feel like i could never be heard .. never understood.. never patiently enough to grasp the complexity and depth of my emotions .. how real they are .. how i am not blind or deaf and .. im self aware but an overfeeler ..

So i isolated myself .. at the hardest phase of my life haha .. deleted my accounts .. ghosted my best friends .. it was not the best decision.. i ended up rotting in the cimetry of every loss haunted by the ghosts of who i could ve been and who i used to be .. rotting .. poetically .. living with my parents .. so no coffee and cigarette .. which made it more melancholic ..

I met a guy .. i thought was my soulmate .. who could blame me ? I was vulnerable, alone, heartbroken, lost all of my dreams, my job, my degree, my identity, my whimsical soul ... and he was a daydream i couldnt have invented in my boldest drunk idyllic stories ..

If i describe him, i will cry, you know Down Bad - Taylor Swift ? .. well, along with the Reputation album,im fucked .. intelligent, creative, introspective, goofy, kinky, with such intense blue eyes, a soft voice and words I cannot understand.. oh and he's french .. :))))

3 hour long video calls, profound vulnerable conversations, inside jokes, was i really delusional ? .. i cry imagining his laugh, i suffocate when he doesnt answer, and he heard me, when I was alone, he blessed me with long reflective paragraphs, woke me up when i told him he hated me, describing in a way more vivid than no one ever did, was it casual ?

Calling me luna lovegood, who uses 10 words to describe a color ? Asking me to come watch cartoons with him while eating cereals ? That he he thinks of me often when he smokes ? Coming to me when he is tipsy with his spontaneous thoughts ? Aaaah i guess im delusional cause he sent me a song lover i dont have to love , as emblematic of our bond ! :3333

I wish it was my period, then id have an excuse to be AGONISING, i started talking to my friends again, a bit before that, after i isolated myself from them, and I felt so happy they welcomed me, they knew what I was going through was HELL , but overthinking is back .. i feel like im too much, too much, too much ..

Is this why he doesnt answer ? Is that why they leave me on seen ? Me and my long ass paragraphs ? My fervent audios ? My morbid fantaisies ? My intellectually challenging and annoying questions ? My constant memes ? Im too much ? am i too much ?

I overthink a lot .. maybe its not that deep .. when people have a life , their own torments, their daily commitments, all the places they can go to, all the people they can laugh with .. my text will be just a text..

I will leave this place .. i will leave .. it will be over .. i will be busy too .. the job of my dreams .. in a city as dreamy as me .. coffee, red wine, long black socks, newspapers, museums, jazz bars, french literature, deep conversations, bruns ténébreux, messy sketchbook, black opium, red lipstick, girl talk over a balcony, art talk on night walk, dowtown hotels, carla bruni .. yup .. thats my vision board . .

I manifested everything i wanted in the past but i didnt manage to keep it ..

I wrote a letter to my future self .. i hope i never lose myself again ..

Good thing i draw again .. i write again .. i read again .. and i have a vision for the future ..

But im painfully hopeless yearning for someone who claimed liking me, belonging to me, but will never commit to me and seems to not mind my absence .. all of you will be like Oohh gurl you deserve better .. its not that simple.. when the man is so rare and fascinating and the connexion is so tangible ..

But even to him .. to them .. im just too much ..

Im sorry for drawing you, casting a spell on you to make you feel better, writing you a letter on a coffee stained paper, asking you for a video where you slice oranges ( thnx for doing it 🎀 ), for asking you how would you kill me and to send me audios ( and you left me on seen 🎀 ) ..

And my friends, im sorry for writing poems about you, sending you long audios and messages, sharing my intimate and particular thoughts with you .. showing you pages of my sketchbook .. I just missed you .. but you were too busy .. you had your own life .. your own problems ..

and im just the jobless girl who lives with her parents who has nothing better to do but talk to her friends... 💌

The urge to ghost everyone is INTENSE .. Whrn i stay, when i act as if we are close, when im spontaneous.. i regret it .. left on seen.. topic changed .. and my heart aches man .. i ve been crying so much .. so so so much .. im overwhelming.. and i understand.. i always give them excuses .. i never confront them.. so im writing my feelings here instead .. cause as much as i avoid those insecurities .. they consume me .. how I cried .. how i slept .. how i couldnt eat .. how the pain was physical .. how i couldnt breath .. how i couldnt do anything productive.. cried at the gym .. in my room .. in my notebooks .. on my candles .. writing a message expecting it to not be read only to be right .. cause everyone has a life but me ...

So i should create a life too.. the dreamy artistic coffee stained life of my dreams .. forgive me for being sad .. i will .. i know im not too much .. im intense .. and i like how alive i am .. but it hurts to be too much to them ..

[eldritchmochi]

Word prompt for the letters! SWORD TIME

mina pls that is so many letters lmao

S - Show us an example of your personal headcanon (prompts optional but encouraged)

okay, if it is not obvious, i have thought SO MUCH about disability in exandria, so heres a general worldbuilding headcannon vs character based hc but it's shown that disability isn't overly impactful in exandria. basically everything we've seen ranging from pcs like shakaste to big npcs like dancer and also smaller one off pcs like the moorbounder dealer in the city of beasts, whatever the name is, they're fully functional within society despite major physical disabilities and theres functionally not a whole lot of ableism at a surface level when it comes to worldbuilding (thanks matt).

however..... its not hard (for me) to extrapolate how the dynasty in particular would have a not great view on disability (thank u cherry for putting it into words as i was charlie day-ing over coping skills early on). it's not something that i talk about explicitly in coping skills (and may not since it would be really info dumpy and not vibe with the way i write or characterize the wizards lmao) but it's something ive spent a great deal of time thinking thru for the dang fic and my in-head notes are basically a) in a modern setting like coping skills, the healthcare situation moves at a glacial pace partly because elves live forever so what is a several year wait for a non emergent specialist issue and b) major disabilities, things that impact daily living to a significant degree that cannot be "fixed" with magic, are at best really only tolerated until anamnesis or consecution so the body can be reset into a more perfect form

i could wax poetic about the nitty gritty as it relates to coping skills specifically, but that is like, the base premise of 90% of the fic lmao

W - A trope which you are virtually certain to hate in any fandom.

okay so, heres the thing: with the exception of a few squicks, if something is well written with some fukken *heart* i will eat up just about anything. theres some tropes i don't really get myself and haven't found anything with it that's interested me, like hanahaki, but i have fav fics involving things i notoriously avoid, like kid fic and hs aus. like legitimately, my absolute fav fic is a non explicit hs au, which considering i basically dont read non explicit fics OR hs aus is fucking wild

O - Choose a song at random. Which ship or character does it remind you of?

lets see, i did one here for an ashrym fic, and one here for general shadowgast so lets go with a single character, and a delightfully weird song for her

obviously imogen, again, because its funny. do not ask me why spotify recommended this german edm country album to me a bit ago but i listened to the whole thing and it fucking slapped, and this song immediately went on my hells playlist

R - Which friendship/platonic relationship is your favorite in fandom?

I AM ONLY DOING ONE BECAUSE I DONT TRUST YOU MINA (ilu but also damn many letters lmao)

but callowmoore is just chefs kiss. i don't see anything necessarily romantic between them but i love the idea of the two of them bonding over being absolute gremlins. ashton definitely needs a charismatic wingman and fearne definitely needs someone who has (some level of) smarts re Doing Crimes, so the two of them playing off each other is just delightful and i love how soft they are with each other in cannon and in turn all the fanart (especially the forehead kiss???? im still not normal about that)

D - A pairing you wish you liked but just can’t.

hmmmmmmmmmmm okay i guess maybe reylo? the rots kiss was absolute garbage rey deserves better BUT i am in theory into her domming the shit out of him but reylo shippers as a whole soured me on the ship and now i just hhhh no thank you, even from authors i trust to write it in a way i'd enjoy :C

T - Do you have any hard and fast headcanons that you will die defending? 

T answered here! (basically no lmao)

I - Has Tumblr caused you to stop liking any fandoms, if so, which and why?

homestuck :I like part of it was definitely the Fandom Cycle of falling out if interest with something, especially once there stopped being new cannon i could access but a bigger part of it was seeing all my fav artists and writers in the fandoms, particularly the ones 30+, PARTICULARLY Black artist, being absolutely shat on by kids for the crime of... being adults in fandom spaces basically, or otherwise creating fanworks that featured non-white, non-thin depictions of the characters. i live vicariously thru @/roundandtalented when they spam share hs art because i still love those characters but yeesh ye olde tumblr hs fandom got VERY toxic

M - Name a character that you’d like to have for a friend.

answered once here with ashton and here with astarion so i guess i gotta keep the train going with "a" name characters

hmmmmmmmmmm

okay lets say abby from ncis (i have watched Many crime procedurals lmao). i imagine she and i would be GREAT fashion buddies, especially when i'm bubblegum pop kawaii to her scary goth. we could swap tips on breaking in big stompy boots and all the best places for cute clothes, and i think we're fairly close in size too so could even SWAP gasp The Dream

E - Have you added anything cracky/hilarious to your fandom? If so, what?

god i do not know if fandom as a whole has picked up on any of the various things i've built in my fics but tbh i think its absolutely hilarious how i inevitably write a porn/camming au for like every fandom i write multiple fics for. it happens, every single time. EVERY TIME. in fact, mine and cherry's sg camming au started with me lampshading this trend i have, laughing about how FINALLY here was a fandom where i couldn't write camming and make it work, except whoops i thought too hard on it and made it work. this occurred over the course of like..... a single evening. i had the basic outline sketched out within twenty minutes of me being like "theres no way i could write camming into critical role, NO WAY" i am not even exaggerating

so i guess maybe my hilarious contribution to critical role is the contemporary magical setting proof-of-concept???? cherry did say there werent really that many at the time i asked because i lov me some modern aus

there are maybe some letters left idk at this point lmao but here is the meme for those of u who made it thru all that

[fujosheaven]

think ive hit rock bottom again

but yknow, oh well? maybe its a new low, cs i cant bring myself to care very much. its like all my energy is completely gone and all i do is chase dopamine so i can try and feel normal but by doing so im rotting away

i cant remember when i showered last, what day of the week it is, what im supposed to do, anything

its always been like that but its worse again

i thought i was gonna get better now that the suns coming back but i tried to hard and now ive fallen all the way back down

its like climbing up a steep cliffside, one wrong step and you slide all the way back down. hell, the marks youve made n the tears n the sweat only make the wall steeper and the hole deeper, so why do you try anyways?

i dont know. ive never truly had enough energy to get better, but it was easier to pretend. now, most of the time its just apathy. i cant bring myself to care anymore, ive already fucked it up enough. its so much easier to hide behind something thatll make me temporarily happy and make me forget than try to face the mess ive made.

maybe thats why people do drugs. im such a damn coward, cant even own up to what ive done to myself. its all my fault, and yet i cant even fix it. whats that make me? im no better than anyone else, im worse. do you have to look so disappointed? i was never going to amount to anything big anyways, ive never had the passions and dreams that you do.

god, im so tired. it would be nice to never have to do anything again. if i could just drop out and rot away maybe id eventually get up? likely not. wishful thinking.

it must be easier for someone whos less selfish than me, i couldnt even end it all cs im too much of a wuss, and i just cant give up all my superficial things. would be nice if i believed in God and He could give me salvation. i understand why people do, but i cant. not like i deserve salvation anyways, what the hell have i done? been nice to people? everyone could do that. its not like im special, no, theres nothing important about me. im never going to make an impact, and thats always been fine with me. but that was because i had things to enjoy. now im losing that too, fuck.

im so useless and disgusting i dont know why people still like me. i try my best to fake it, i dont want them to notice, but it hurts that they dont notice regardless. im too scared to accept your help, but god, the offer would feel nice. id just brush it off with an 'im okay, dont worry, its nothing' anyways. whole lotta nothing, in fact. its all made up in my head, so why cant i let myself go?

[the-whispers-of-death]

dominic's furious rn. he has half the mind to call the cops on stone immediately. or at the very least break a bone. do *something* to him

sure butcher deserved what was coming his way. you cant keep evading death and expect it to stay that way, but that doesnt mean hes okay w it either. but dominic doesnt ever show up on the ranch again either. hes spiraling and is besides himself with anger. but he doesnt want to actually hurt anyone so he locks himself away from the world. sorry simba and nala

i think everything on the ranch has just stopped. mārītes just shut down and the poor girl's trying her best to organize a funeral or *something*

i think she settles on cremation. sylvester doesnt care what happens to his body. he does get a kick out of it when mārīte wants to bury the urn next to his greenhouse and plant a tree on top of it.

hes also painfully unhelpful with mārīte. she just wants to talk to him and to make sure hes also happy w her decisions, but bro's like "fuck if i care. im dead anyways. its up to you. throw my body in the river for all i care" and shes like "daaaaaaaaad. oh my god. what is your problem???"

i dont think theres even a ceremony or a proper funeral. most that happens is that a small portion of the ashes are given away to ainārs, wherever the hell he is right now.

well. that is unless someone decides to step in like "uh yeah. no. lemme cook something up"

Maecetis, after I read that everything has fallen apart at the ranch: Oh if only I could've stopped this from happening, simply by going back in time and reviving Sylvester before Stone can kill Butcher.

Me: You're not in this AU, you're literally a goddess in another universe!

Stone is just laying on the floor of the bedroom because he can't sleep in the bed without Sylvester. He hasn't eaten, he hasn't showered. He's just... letting himself rot.

Laila's not doing much better either. She left to escape the memories, taking Anika with her. Akhil is only staying because Heartthrob is and Heartthrob's only staying because someone needs to make sure Stone eventually eats and takes care of himself while Kali takes over Stone's ranch duties.

You know how I said "Let the angst rain"? Yeah, I regret that. As evident by Maecetis chilling in my head, waiting to undo everything.

[garrothromeave]

i would actually argue that making shad the big bad of mystreet would be less impactful for his character than the ending he got!

i WOULD agree that micheal is kinda... boring, but at least it makes sense. the demon warlock was defeated easily in mcd - he still has pent up rage, desires for power, etc.

i think that making shad the villain again would be a bit disregardful of the character behind his villainy. shad is a tragic character; he was dealt an unfair set of cards. he's already the main "bad guy" of mcd, even while not being the main antagonist until season 3. s3 was clearly building up for this big fight with shad, especially with how focused it was on him as a character & the divine. shad was outcasted as a young adult. he was a magicks user in a time where it was still not understood, and all he was seen was was as a monster. it's all he knew. and then he met irene, was given a chance, shown that he could do good, and he did his best to do that.

and then he was given the relic of the destroyer. and then his daughter was killed. and then his friends try to kill him. and then he loses his mind. and then is stripped of his body, his humanity by the one person who had once extended that hand, and due to the nature of the relics' promise of immortality, was forced to rot in hell with no physical form for centuries. did he deserve that?

now, this could seem like an argument as to why he should have been the villain of mystreet - that's a lot of anger, why can't it carry on for centuries after mcd - but to that, i ask of you, look to the ending that was given to him in mystreet.

at this point, ""shad"" no longer exists. when we see him, it's upon irene/mcd aphmau's death, and he is known as "judgement." he is still shad, but he has a much different role.

there's issue in the fact that we don't get to see the inbetweens. we don't get to see how shad got here, how he was able to let go of this rage that fueled him from centuries, we dont know what happened. but it did, and he's here. i speculate we would have seen the beginning of this or at least the seeds planted had mcd season 3 ended, because it's clear by mystreet that this is the story that jess wants to tell.

had shad been the big villain of mystreet, he would be deemed as - well, irredeemable, and would likely get the same fate micheal got. obliteration. the bad guy was killed! woop!

but that would not be satisfying for shad. such a tragic villain, seemingly never able to crawl out of the hellhole that he was imprisoned within. doomed to forever hold hate. doomed to never change. doomed to be trapped in the box irene forced him into.

by the time we meet judgement, he now has the ability to fully separate irene & aphmau. this in itself is important - he doesn't really get there in mcd, but this distinction is one of the most important. i think that's because aphmau did have an impact on shad. not as irene, but as aphmau. they're seperate beings to him by this point - imagine that, irene was the one who imprisoned him, and aphmau being the one to help set him free.

obviously, we don't know what actually happened or if she actually had any hand in it, but if shad can move up to such an important role such as JUDGEMENT itself - this means something changed. he was given a chance and he took it. just like he once had - but he's not the same. he doesn't hold the same resentment. this is truly the perfect role for a reformed shad, someone who would understand the nuance of ALL the actions we make in our lives. sure, it remains unsatisfying that we don't know HOW he got to this point, but at least its an ending to his story! i would kill to see how it happened too, goodness.

but that isn't it either. he's not just forced to immortality in a different light, trapped to be judging those in purgatory forever - at the end of irene's life, the daughter he was never able to see grow up takes him by the hand and brings him through the doors. "we can be with mommy now," she says. irene has died. shad, going through those doors, dies. his time is over. the episode is called "the end of a lifetime" - this is the end of BOTH of them, not just irene. shad, irene - they're through, and they can finally die, despite their curses of immortality. with all of these relics being destroyed & their separations from them, finally unbound, they can move on. shad was given the mercy he deserved.

if jess wrote ANYTHING right in mystreet about mcd, it was this. shad's death. i'm so so happy he wasn't the villain. he was given an ending that subverts expectation and is equally as compelling. i love him mwah

(that being said shadow knights would be cool. i think it coulda been utilized had they been not directly tied to shad as a puppeteer/creator of sorts

As much as I enjoy the lore the later seasons of mystreet provide, I would have much rather Shad be the antagonist that came back, rather than Michael. I already feel like Shad is a way more interesting character (Having a fairly good reason why he is the way that he is.) and with his return, you could have access to the shadow knights, easily one of the coolest parts of MCD.

You don’t even have to use the same characters you used as Shadow knights in MCD. Like for example, what if Gene accidentally got Dante killed somehow and he came back as a shadow knight. That could be a really cool parallel to what happened in MCD.

Or maybe some of the immortal shadow knights could be brought to mystreet, like Vincent, and try to aid Aphmau and friends to defeat Shad.

You could also use this as a way to tell the audience what happened to Shads character and more of his backstory and motivations (considering that MCD s3 was cut short.)

There are so many ways you could take it, and I have so many ideas, I might make this it’s own au or something.

[hdhdkekjfjcnskjcncndmnf]

dont wanna help me? fine

now dont you ever come around saying "okay youre digging your own grave" or "youre only making this worse for yourself" or "you didnt even say anything, doesnt even ask for help" because you know damn well youre fucking lying.

seriously dont even come by me i dont want your face anymore i hope the next 3 minutes you die with your own disgusting spit for making me feel like i will fail at everything at do and make me tired enough to not learn anything anymore and then be mad at me for thinking that i hope you leave this house for good i cant stand you anymore youve made me so damn fucking mad and then come around offering food offering to go out with me saying youre doing gods work youre doing nothing but being a hypocrite

want me to learn? leave me alone and dont you ever fucking speak to me again because i hate your voice as much as i hate myself for thinking you cared in the slightest about how i feel i hate your guts so much i hope in future i will never ever see you again because i will leave this place i will make sure to never bat an eye on your skin i hope you rot from the outside in and feel like your veins are exploding one by one i hope your eyeballs give out day by day so you wont ever see me again you dont deserve that i hope your lung has a failure i hope you have a heart attack i hope your soul goes to the deepest pit of hell and youll never be able to crawl your way put and when you ask for help? ill be only standing, watching you struggle as much as i did when i wanted your help but youve done nothing but tell me im a failure, call me stupid and say i have no god damn worth

i hope you never get to see the light of salvation as you dont deserve nothing but disgrace and pain i hate you so fucking much i hate you i hate you i hate you i hate you i hate you i hate you i hate you i hate you i hate you i fucking hate you i hope your insides melt together and you vomit it all out in front of your loved ones and me. i will do nothing but smile at how horrid your life gets i hope you forget your entire existence i hope you live in life of imense despair

i hate your whole being. i hope i never get to see you again after this.

[tuliptyper]

Oddly Specific Thomas Hewitt hcs;

TW mention for canon typical violence/cannibalism but also mentions of mental illness, suicide, bullying and general poor mental health. also nasty gross nail gunk

also these are long and wordy and not proofread sorry hehe

- neurodivergent, probably ADHD but it manifests in a way that he constantly second guesses his diagnosis bc people say he doesnt 'act like it' (projection? huh? idk her)

- dry asf hands because he cleans them a lot because he doesnt like feeling dirty but doesnt have much time to wash his face/shower. he hates his nails bc he doesnt know how to get the gunk out and accidentally stabbed his nail bed tryna clean them with a tooth pick

- loves his mama but he wishes she understood him better. growing up mute and being bullied by pretty much everyone, hes grown so fragile without even knowing it. sometimes he wishes he could peer into his mothers mind and tell her how he truly feels.

- i think he has some sort of relationship with self punishment. not really sh in the typical sense but he feels he deserves to be overworked to the point of sickness, he doesnt like to rest or treat himself. he gets tense when things are peaceful for too long and he feels the need to bully himself relentlessly. its awful :(

- living in an environment where hes essentially the breadwinner, bodyguard AND punching bag with no refuge to run to is incredibly hard. if it weren't for the guilt and his dedication to his family, he..well...i think you can guess the rest. (someone go get this guy some prozac)

- if he was introduced to them, hed love fairy tales. even though he was pulled from school and had very litle encouragement to persue his hobbies aside from sewing, hes a curious man who enjoys learning. fairy tales give him insight into past culture (and they also satiate his desire for romance. sigh ❤❤) ((call him your prince, he would actually get light headed from all the butterflies))

- should he ever get a taste of freedom, be it a particularly good experience with some strangers or seeing some pretty scenery on the road, he will chase that high Forever. he craves normalcy in its most wholesome form; saying hello to coworkers, picking up groceries, maybe taking his dog out for a walk and getting take out when hes tired. Hoyt knows this somewhat and makes sure tommy doesnt persue that desire with some nasty words and manipulation. ((literally grab his hand, run away into town and dont come back. discreetly send a check to mama with a small house on her name a few blocks down and leave the other old coots to rot))

- i gotta agree with the metalhead hc, he would love stupid ass nu-metal! dad metal, if you will. 2000s era heavy rock and anything with some angry lyrics. hates headbanging though, simply bc he loses his balance more than hed like to admit and also knots are fucking annoying to comb out with his curly hair. BUT ALSO his guilty pleasure music would be really sweet piano music or film soundtracks,,,its his inner romantic

- Thomas has like...hot dad personality..HEAR ME OUT omfg he finds puns funny, twirls his keys like a DAD and DIYs everything. he makes a lot of furniture, clothes and miscellaneous trinkets in his spare time. he needs an etsy shop ASAP

- but also hes such cute goth boyfriend material omg, he'd let you play with his hair, even braid or dye a strand if youre lucky! matching outfits kill him because he loves being yours. your hot goth husband. hell, he'll wear the bedazzled 'His/Hers' t shirt you got from the flea market, at least it fits him!

- dont send him to the gym, hes either the reason membership sales skyrocket or skydive ( they either see him and think 'i want to be him' or 'ill never be him' LMAO). unintentionally, hes a menace at the gym bc hes just generally so strong from all the physical labor back at the farm house

- i think he'd go vegetarian aside from those ready to eat rotisserie chickens you get from the supermarket (listen...i smash a whole chicken with a side of rice and corn like nobody's fuckin business)

[ellsbclls]

you write hurt/comfort so beautifully, it makes me want to have tom comfort me like that ): do u think you could write something where he's taking care of you after a long day at work?? and if it's a little nsfw i wouldn't mind but u dont have to do anything ur not comfortable with. again L O V E ur work!!

thank you so much 🥺 i guess i just try to portray a type of love i think everyone deserves! but also thank you for giving me this idea because my mind went rampant. i also don’t know why the reader is a musician, but just roll with it i guess idk what happened there??? 

i hope this tickles your fancy! nsfw, so extended warnings will be under the cut! please do not interact if you're a minor!!

extended warnings: cue fingering, and some messy, needy sex in the bathtub 🛁✨

The steam rising from the bathtub makes light work of your weary muscles, menthol vapors kissing up your spine, soothing the knots scattered across the length of your back. You were in dire need of this, after the plight of a day you’d endured. A couple of hours in the studio had quickly spiraled into a six hour-session, with nothing to show for it but a lousy sixteen measures of brass ensembles — and by the good grace of your talent and patience, the artist has requested you drop in for their session again.

The thought makes you want to drown.

Instead, you opt to curl into yourself, softly pressing your cheek into your knee, watching the spindles of warmth waft up from your well earned bubble bath. In retrospect, the weight of your day didn’t fall solely on this new client — if you’re being honest, they actually had a lot of potential. You wouldn’t mind having your name tethered to a couple of their hits — but Tom had just returned home from a three month long shoot, and you’ve only been graced the luxury of his presence for less than 24 hours. Any time that isn’t being spent with him feels blasphemous, but since he has yet to return from his unknown whereabouts, you seized the opportunity to flush out as much irritability as possible before he returned.

You didn’t know just how tired you were until you were woken up.

A half an hour passes before you’re tousled from your dreamless slumber by a docile touch, familiar digits scaling the curve of your spine before they take a detour at the nape of your neck, carefully parting stray strands of hair to either side of your frame.

“Tom?” You hum, dulcet tones wafting through the steam akin to a dream as it ebbs from the rim of your subconscious.

“Yes, darling?” He muses, entranced by the frothy remnants of your bath soak as he dips his fingertips into the water.

“I missed you today.” You melt into his touch, allowing your head to fall to the side and survey his attire. His hair is all tousled, chestnut locks sprouting from the bottom of his backwards strewn baseball cap, and those honey-dipped hues you adore so much are creased with concern. You want nothing more than to soothe them away with the pad of your thumb, and so you indulge yourself, reaching over the edge of the tub as you continue to ramble. “I started the day already praying for it to be over with, and somehow, every single inconvenience fathomable decided to fall onto my lap. I mean — who the fuck needs seven different french horn tracks in an overture? A real band barely needs one.” Tom’s nodding along to your ramblings, but you both know that he doesn’t fully under the lengths of your frustration — just as you’ll never truly understand the inner workings of his own career. “The only thing keeping me together was the thought of coming home to you.”

“I’m so sorry, my love,” He coos, and continues to caress your back, working out all of the knots that the steam couldn’t relieve. “If it’s any consolation, I was only running late because I had to stop and buy some pancetta on the way home.”

“Don’t apologize. I assumed you would be back since all your stuff is still here.” You tease, mirroring his bemused smile, letting his world seep into your slowly booting brain. “Pancetta…” Not many people knew this, not even Tom before his first attempt, but the boy could whip up a mean bowl of pasta. You remember floundering across the bed the night before, identical to a little kid throwing a tantrum, moaning over just how badly you were craving carbonara. Silly of you to think that he’d take your melodramatic request in stride. “Are you-“

His enamored gaze is answer enough, but he pairs it with a chaste kiss to your forehead that has you nuzzling into his touch. “Only the best for my lil’ lady.”

You show a mere fraction of your appreciation with a swift, flurry of kisses over his cheekbones, pulling him closer by the downy bundles of his hoodie. Lovedrunk giggles and contented sighs bounce off the tiles before you’re both submerged in a comfortable silence, one that leaves the both of you free to shamelessly examine the other, one clad in their comfy, weatherworn disguise while the other dawns nothing but an enchanted smile. Even with the disparity between your attire, you both end up with flushed cheeks and dopey grins.

Hours, days, years seem to press on until you break the silence with a silly question, one that you ask in hopes of hearing his gentle, candied voice once more — or even better, his laugh. “What would you do if I was as big as a thumbtack? Would you still love me?” You query, a childlike sense of wonderment tinting your sugar-coated sigh.

He takes a second to ponder your questions, taking it into far more consideration than you had in bringing it to fruition. You can’t stifle the tiny puff of air that leaves your lips, the semblance of a chuckle, and Tom, with his wild brow and theatrical ways, whips his head in your direction, sending you a cautionary glare. “I suppose I would…” He starts, only to tap his finger against his bottom lip, drawing the suspense to its boiling point by the time you shove his forearm. “But then again, it doesn’t matter what size you are, there’s no limit to how much I love you.”

“Hmm,” you manage to vocalize. Your heart is now a star, an incandescent ball of fire caged beneath your ribs, and if he hasn’t gathered it by now, then he can bask in the warmth of your smile and know that for him, for him it is the sun.

You have to admit that you got ahead of yourself. One moment, you were binding your lips in a bruising, indulgent union, urging him to bask in the lovelorn rays of light he summoned, but only managing to pull him into the bathtub, fully clothed and unsuspecting. What was once your lukewarm oasis is suddenly a swirling cauldron of spearmint, teatree, and now unmistakable notes of him, sloshing against the edge of the tub as his frame struggles against the latent tide. There’s bound to be one hell of a mess waiting on the bathroom floor, but now that he’s settled in your grasp, you see no reason to fret just yet.

“Y/N.” His voice is deadpan, which can mean one of two things — he’s either overwhelmed with joy, or exhibiting a great deal of restraint in not drowning you right then and there. You choose to cancel out the latter, and offer the best attempt at innocence your babydoll eyes could muster, peering at him through your lashes with a teeth-rotting gleam.

“What?” You ask simply. His eye starts to twitch, and you only double down on your facade. “I just wanted to be closer to you.” Wading through the newly shallow body of water, half of its contents now dispersed across the tile floor, you make light work of his soggy hoodie, sloughing it over his head as he grumbles beneath it, giggling when it catches against that razor-sharp jawline of his.

“Well, you are very close now.” You notice how his voice drops down an octave, and you’re embarrassed to admit just how quickly the coil in your stomach tightens at the sound of it, how it already aches to be pulled taut. 

Tom seems unsuspecting enough when he captures your lips once again, his brims as delicate as baby’s breath against your own, tentative as they glide in a sultry dance. He doesn’t need to coax a confession out of you, the truth is already there, nestled in your urgent, needy pressure, in the whimpers threatening to spill into his lips. He’ll indulge in this little game for a moment longer — where you pretend that you aren’t desperate for his touch, and he pretends that he isn’t just as desperate to provide it — but once you fumble into his lap, clumsily grasping for more, and more, and even more of him, his resolve begins to crumble.

“I need you.” you whisper into the hollow of his mouth, golden-tongued and virtually earnest, coaxing a trembling sigh from the back of his throat.

He hums back, contented, basking in the intoxicating warmth of your silhouette, tracing the curve of your breasts with his knuckles. “Long day, my love?”

“Mhmm,” You demonstrate your point with a wistful sigh,  enveloping his great hands with your smaller ones, coating them in languid kisses until there was no skin left untouched.

You’re just too fucking cute, he muses. He can never say no to you, not even in jest.

Two of his slender digits roam the valley of your stomach, knuckles ghosting over your navel in their listless descent before they venture between your thighs, surveying just how badly you really need him. He dips his middle finger between your folds, tender and slick with your arousal, and emits a husky groan as he traces a steady line between your entrance and the spot just below your clit, ghosting your little bundle of nerves with each taunting caress. “You’re already soaked, my love. This all for me?” He coos, nudging your jaw with the tip of his nose, pressing a wet, open mouthed kiss against the column of your neck.

“All for you,” You sigh, digging your nails into the broad planes of his shoulder. “Please, Tom, please touch me.”

He finally spares you, thumb sloppily circling your clit as he plunges two digits into your opening, welcoming the lithe intrusion with a warm, velvety embrace. You slump into his embrace, nipples straining hard against the soaked fabric of his t-shirt, and raggedly whimper as he starts to work you open. The reminder of your nude form plastered against his clothes, albeit soaking wet, summons another pool of wetness to your core. You’re flooded with thoughts of delectable anguish — of denim kissing your hips, dragging against your bundle of nerves, as he ravages your bare little cunt, proving that you’re so desperate for his cock that you can barely wait for him to undress.

“Is this all you needed, baby? My fingers? You wanted me to stretch this pretty little cunt out?” He can’t stop the filthy words tumbling from his lips, especially not when your tiny mewls of pleasure are flooding his ears — you’re just so soft and pliant under his touch, so eager to be filled to the brim, it’s intoxicating to know that you’ll take anything he has to offer you. “I’ve got you, baby. I’m gonna give you everything you need. Gonna have you spilling all over my fingers and then — fuck! — then i’m gonna fill you up with my cock. How does that sound?

“Y-yeah,” You’re rutting against his palm at this point, grinding down to meet each thrust, to feel impossibly closer, fuller, ambling toward an orgasm that is already barreling toward you. As he finds a new angle, the pads of his fingers nudge against your g-spot, and the heel of his hand careens over your clit with such a delicious pressure that your thighs begin to quake. “‘M so close.” You whine, prompting him to punctuate each thrust with a curl of his fingers, dragging your orgasm from the pit of your stomach.

“Then let go, baby. Let go for me.” You need no further persuasion, your eyes squeezing shut as you teeter off the edge, with nothing but a raspy, desperate string of obscenities, clawing at the slope of his shoulders, and bathing his hand in sultry waves of nectar as it spills from your weepy little hole. His fingers are trapped between your fluttering walls, working you through your climax with nimble, tentative thrusts, stretching each wave of pleasure out until you’re trembling over little ripples.

“That’s it, that’s my girl.” You feel so small beneath his gaze, teeming with endless pools of adoration, like you’re a freshwater clearing and he’s parched. It nearly distracts you from his fingers as they slip from your opening, but each receding wave of bliss is tethered to him, so you groan at the loss of contact. Your walls flutter hopelessly around nothing, chasing the delicious stretch of his digits in their absence, but you’re instantly qualmed by the sound of his zipper being pulled down, no doubt freeing himself from the waterlogged confines of his jeans.

“Can I?” You sink your hands into what little water still remains in the tub, hooking your fingers through the belt loops of his jeans, but he swats your shaky hands away, adamantly shaking his head as a small frown of confusion forms between your brows. “You don’t wanna take ‘em off?”

“This is about you, my love.” He whispers, his free hand smoothing over the small of your back, stroking the patch of dew-ridden skin with his thumb. “And right now, all I wanna do is keep my promise.”

“You’re so good to me,” You whisper just above his lips, leaning back into his touch, peering between your bodies to survey his ministrations. You’re still a bit dazed from your first, earth-shattering orgasm, but the prospect of another has you buzzing with excitement, and Tom knows that look well enough to speed up his course of action.

Pearly veneers sink into the swell of your bottom lip at the mere sight — his cock is beyond compare. Even as its impatiently pulled through the opening of his jeans, it’s put on a mouth-watering display as he leisurely pumps himself, smearing tiny pearls of precum across his flushed, leaky tip with each upstroke. He’s far too enticing, far too pretty with his rosy cheeked, droopy-eyed charm, to resist, and you’re quick to replace his hand with your own, curling your fingers around the base and mimicking a couple teasing pumps before guiding him to your entrance.

Tom spreads his legs a little wider to accommodate you, the sensation of wet denim rubbing against your thighs, knocking your legs farther apart, causes a soft whimper to fall from your lips. It doesn’t take long for you to align the head of his cock with your entrance, teasing him with a couple of lascivious drags through your folds before you sink onto his length, reigniting the remnants of your last orgasm as inch after delicious inch prods your tender walls apart. By the time he bottoms out, you’re nothing but a trembling pile of limbs, and his lips seek out your own just to muffle your staggered breaths with a burning kiss.

You allow yourself a couple of seconds to adjust — no matter how or which way you take him, he still pushes up every crevice of your insides, demanding every square inch of your velvety heat. A wild flurry of crimson blossoms across the high planes of your cheeks as Tom nuzzles his forehead against your own, brushing his nose against yours, coaxing a melodious string of giggles from your chest while you scrunch up your nose. He presses a chaste kiss to the corner of your lips and smiles against the spot. “You look so pretty like this, my love. With that gorgeous smile of yours, and that pretty little pussy squeezing my cock.” You feel like you’ve got whiplash, trying to come to terms with how obscene he can be under such tender movements. “Just wanna turn you over and bury myself inside. See how tight you feel when you’re folded in half.” His hands reach down to rub gentle, circular motions into the small of your back, and you can’t help but pulse around him at the juxtaposition.

Once the uncomfortable stretch of his girth melts into pleasure, you finally start to work yourself over his length, and you swear you can feel every gorgeous ridge and vein of his cock as you rise up to the tip, only to plunge back down with a impish yelp, setting a clumsy, needy pace that certainly gets the job done. You don’t really find your rhythm until Tom helps you out, sinking his fingers into the supple curve of your ass, orchestrating a hard, punishing pace as he drives up into your sopping cunt, meeting you in the middle with each thrust.

All at once, the bathroom is washed in a crude symphony, the combination of your heavy panting and slapping skin intermingles with the shallow splash of water as it laps against the edge of the tub, punctuating the sinful drag of his length, and how the tip pounds against your furthest wall as you impale yourself onto him. You can feel another orgasm start to build, and since Tom has made it his solemn vow to not only study, but master, every little, scrumptious detail of your body, he senses it as well. 

“You got another one for me?” He asks between labored pants. His own orgasm is starting to peak over the horizon, following in the blazing trail you’ve set, you can tell by the way a thin sheen of sweat starts to build against his hairline, and his brows almost meet in the middle, as if the feeling of your pussy pulsing around his cock is unfathomable. He uses the grip he has on your waist to take control, using one hand to scale up the breadth of your back, and as his palms leave a blistering trail up, up, up your sides, he pulls you flush against his chest, attempting to plant his feet against the floor of the bathtub, 

He needs the leverage to piston his hips up into your own, to pound into your greedy hole at an unyielding pace — to keep his promise — and as you start to feel the tell tale edge of your climax cresting over your weary frame, you spoil his shoulder with sweeping, butterfly kisses and flood his mind with sweet, sweet nothings, luring him to the brink with the same dulcet tones you know drive him wild.

His hips stutter into your own, and before the words can even exit your lips, you’re dragged to the edge of bliss with a couple of rough, uncompromising thrusts that have you wildly spasming around his length. He joins you almost immediately, throbbing against your sensitive walls as he fills you to the brim, driving the mixture of your arousal further into you as he fucks you through your orgasm. 

Once he pulls out, he’s quick to wrap you up in a soothing embrace, planting kisses over every acre of skin he can get his lips on, but you’re too focused on the trail of cum leaking down your thighs to really indulge him, curiosity getting the better of you as you gently weave your arm between your bodies and collect the wetness on your thighs. You swear you can feel the rumble of his chest once you pop your fingers into your mouth, humming around the sodden digits, making a spectacle out of the addicting elixir pooling on your tongue, but his glimmer of reinvigorated stamina is put to rest by the sight of your drowsy, half-lidded stare.

“Why don’t we get you dried off? Then I can start dinner.” He hums against your cheek, punctuating his suggestion with yet another chaste kiss. It’s genuinely like he can’t get enough, and neither can you as you sleepily nod.

“Will you wake me up when it’s ready?” You sigh, teetering on the edge of slumber once more.

“Of course, my love.”