#to get violent revenge on the people who tried to cut him out of her

[transmascissues]

i know i still haven’t written the promised rant about jekyll and hyde as a metaphor for the way people see trans men, but my sibling and i just watched malignant tonight and boy oh boy do i also want to write a rant about that now

#evil parasitic man inside a good woman’s body dresses her up as a man #to get violent revenge on the people who tried to cut him out of her #‘you don’t deserve this body i could use it better’ #come on. COME ON #you see the vision i know you do

[jksprincess10]

I can sabotage me by myself || Joel Miller x reader

A/N: This is a part two of lucky for me, I run on spite and sweet revenge. Can be read on its own. I wanted to write more of ennemy!yn and violent Joel.

CW: Attempted rape (not graphic), violence, jealous!Joel, Joel being toxic and protective, smut, thigh riding, car sex, angst but comfort, language, rough filthy sex, toxic relationship (seriously if a man talks to you like that, leave his ass).

Read part 3 here

After that night, you said you’d try to work together. Well, sort of. You made some deals that would advantage both of you. But most of the time, you just tried to stay out of his way and him, out of yours. Sometimes, you’d also meet in the darkness of the night to fulfill your desires of violence and lust.

Tonight, you had a huge deal to help out your group and Joel. You were supposed to get a car battery for a vehicle that you found just outside of the QZ. It was in good shape; it just needed a new battery. With a car, you’d be able to cover more distance outside of the QZ.

Joel was supposed to meet you, but you decided to go to the headquarter first. Part of you wanted to show him that you were capable of doing this alone, that he could benefit more from you than you could benefit from him.

You were so wrong.

You met Noah’s assistant, Elijah, at the group’s headquarters. They had a strong hand over most deals inside the walls. They were very powerful, and Noah and Elijah were known to be very dangerous men. But you knew men like them. They all had the same weaknesses.

“You got what we want?” You asked Elijah without waiting for him to talk first. He was alone, but you knew there was always more men lurking around and waiting for his signal.

“Yeah. Thought you’d come with Miller, though.” He pointed you to the battery to show that it was legit. It had barely any wear to it.

“He was busy.” You justified.

You were satisfied with the battery. You kneeled on the floor to open your bag to get your things to exchange. You had fresh vegetables that you had grown.

“Wait, baby doll, I thought you would give me something else.” He shot with a suggestive look.

You tried to get up to your feet, but he held you there. Catastrophic scenarios ran through your head as he was caressing your shoulders slowly.

“That’s not how I work anymore.” You said coldly.

But he kept going. You waited for him to be distracted, before twisting his wrist. He groaned in pain, which sufficed to alert his other men. Soon, four men, including Elijah, trapped you in a circle of their bodies. You fought how you could; biting and cutting, not wanting to alert more people by using your gun. You knew you couldn’t last long that way though, and soon, you found yourself with your cheek on the cold ground, trying to counter the blows of fists and the kicks to your body. You tried to take everything silently in hopes they would stop, until the world became disappeared before your eyes, replaced by pure darkness.

***

You woke up to grunts and the sound of violent punches. You barely moved not to alert anyone; besides, your whole body was sore.

“What the FUCK have you done to her?!”

You barely turned your head to the sound of the familiar voice. Joel. Three of the men were already dead, their lifeless bodies close to yours. The only left was Elijah, in a struggle with the older man, who was trying to strangle him.

“Since when do you care about this whore, Miller?!”

That was enough to enrage him even more. He saw everything in red. Elijah was thrown to the ground and Joel punched him repeatedly  in the face, teeth, and blood flying to the ground, until he was silenced forever.

Slowly, you sat up, wincing under the pain. The sound of you getting up took Joel out of his violent fit, well, you thought so.

“You fucking careless girl… I said not to fucking go alone.”

He took the battery in one arm, before grabbing you with his hand to force you to get up completely. You bit your lip to stop yourself from screaming in pain.

“I don’t fucking need you Miller.” You spat at his face, before painfully trying to get away from him.

“Well, now since you put us in deep shit, you’re stuck with me. And we have to leave. Far. Before they find us. Can you run?”

“No.”

“Well, you’ll have to try, because I sure can’t carry you with this battery. And we’ll need it to get as far away as possible.”

You nodded and followed him in the dark alleyways to try and outwit the men that would try to follow you as they were alerted with the noise. A few of them did try, yes, but luckily, Joel shot them first as you painfully tried to stick to the older man’s side.

***

You didn’t have a hard time to get out of the QZ, you two had your ways around it. The car battery miraculously worked and you silently jumped to the passenger side, grateful to finally be able to sit down, even though it sent pain down your whole body.

Joel was driving in his silent rage. You took the time to look at him, he had a few cuts on his face and hands, but he was mostly okay.

You, on the other hand… You got scared by your own reflection in the car mirror. You looked like someone had tried to paint parts of your face in blue and purple, but the painting wasn’t pretty, it was grotesque and sad.

“I’m sor-” You tried to articulate.

“Shut up. I don’t want to hear a fucking word from your mouth, girl.”

He didn’t have to be so disrespectful. Filled by your hate, you stuck your knife in the old car leather seat, near his face. He barely flinched, knuckles turning white as they were holding the wheel.

“Fuck you, Miller.” You said as you spat blood out of the window.

And that was the last sentence you addressed to him in a while.

The car eventually stopped at a spot that was deemed safe. It looked like an old car dump. Surely, you’d be invisible here. You tried to sleep in the passenger seat to recover slowly, while Joel was trying to find water and a small rabbit to eat.

He opened the door when he was back. You lost the track of time, but he seemed successful. A fire was already started. He helped you sit near the warmth source. He fed you cooked pieces of meat, slowly and patiently. Even though you could tell he was tired from his chocolate eyes. Even though he could tell you wanted to bite his fingers off.

“He tried to force me…” You finally said, before choking on a sob, letting go of your anger for Joel.

He didn’t say anything and took a piece of cloth out of his backpack, before wetting it with the water that was turning lukewarm. He cleaned your face and you leaned into the older man’s touch, like a cat starved for more pets.

“I don’t want to do that again, Joel. I… there must be another way, right?”

He nodded silently. He was still visibly mad.

“Can I see the damage on your legs to clean your wounds?”

You let him help you take down your pants, discovering a new grotesque and bloody painting. He kept cleaning your wounds silently, and in this moment, you were thankful for him. You put up your jeans when he was done and took a clean piece of the rag to wash the cuts on his face. Your lips placed a kiss on the wound over his bushy eyebrow, collecting a bit of blood there. You licked your lips to feel the pain he was in. He took your hands in his to stop you.

“You should sleep in the car to be more comfortable.” He simply said coolly. “I’ll keep watch.”

Without another word, your disappeared into the backseat of the car with a blanket you had found in one of the vehicles that was dumped here. You fell in a mostly comfortable sleep.

The door opened, and you heard it like you were still in your dreams. A warm body pressed to yours, arms flexing to lift you up to his mouth. You opened your eyes with Joel’s chapped lips still on yours and you leaned into the kiss. You both tasted like remains of blood and meat, but you didn’t care. The kiss stopped only when he held you down by the throat, carefully, barely pressing.

“For the record, I’m still mad at you.”

You nodded with a grin and put your small fingers around his wrist, pressing against his rough skin.

“And I don’t want you to fuck with another man, ever. I’ll make sure of it. I’ll take care of you. If another man tries to touch you, he will end up dead like all of those idiots.”

You nodded again, too numb to talk.

“And I’ll take care of the deals.”

You slapped his hand so he would leave your throat, and he did.

“Nope. You’ll come with me, that’s all.” You argued.

“But-”

“Didn’t know you were such a talker, Miller. I preferred when you would shut the fuck up or just use your mouth to insult me.”

He groaned, before adding: “I’ll think about it.”

“It’s the only way I’ll keep working with you, and you need me. I’m a great distraction.”

“That, you are.” You finally saw him smile.

You left him more space and he sat down beside you, before you slowly straightened up. You found lazily your way to his lap, thighs on each side of his legs. You felt pain everywhere, but you needed to be close to him. His rough hand stroked slowly your cheek while he looked up at you with a hardened gaze.

“Tell me you won’t be with another man.” His voice was stern.

“Can’t promise…” You responded with a shit-eating grin.

His free hand undid your pants and dragged them down to your thighs with your panties, before he slapped your ass harshly. You let out a cry of pain, body falling onto his, before the hand that was stroking your face held your hair. He pulled on your strands to make you look at his face. You hated how this scary side of him turned you on, but your relationship always had been like this.

“Tell. Me.”

“I won’t.”

“You won’t what?” He pulled more on your hair.

“Be with another man. I promise. Don’t need anyone else.” Ironic for someone who had told him earlier you didn’t need him.

He finally let go and you could catch your breath again. In your heart, you knew that you were sincere. But softness would wait. Fingers slowly traced your slit as you felt warmth traveling down your body. You fell on him again, too weak to hold yourself up. This time, he accepted it and held you with his other hand as he placed soft kisses on your forehead, the only part of your face that wasn’t bruised. You didn’t know why he still wanted you in that terrible state, but you were thankful for the distraction from the pain.

“I’ll make you cum once. And I want you to ride my thigh. Understood?”

“Talk less.” You simply said with a grin.

One of his fingers found its way to your clit, which he teased too softly. You pressed your hips into his touch, aching for more. He understood, picking up the pace as two other fingers took care of your entrance. He filled you up like this, while his finger was flicking over your sensitive ball of nerves. You Kept moving your hips as you felt your release coming. His free hand slapped your ass a few times, the pain bringing you faster to your edge. You came with a soft moan, his name glued to your lips. His wet fingers came up to your lips and you happily sucked them in your mouth, before biting them. He let go of your mouth, before he lazily took off completely the bottom half of your clothes.

He positioned you over his clothed thigh, where you left a small trail of your juices. With a hand on the small of your back, he helped you move against his leg, the friction stimulating your body again. Your own thigh was pressing into his bulge, pleasuring him with each movement against his thigh. You both looked like desperate teenagers trying to get it on in your first car while your parents thought you had gone to the cinema.

“Hm… not enough, Joel…” You moaned softly against his ear as you grinded on his thigh. “Want you to fill me up. Please.”

“I don’t want to hurt you. ” He admitted, brown eyes filled with more concern than lust.

“I don’t care about pain. This pain is better… than the rest. You’re the only man that I’ll let hurt me. Please.”

“Okay.” He responded in a breath, your words going straight to his erection. His experienced hands undid his belt, and he took his member out, leaving the rest of him completely clothed. You both were too desperate to take more time.

He spat on his hand to wet you more, before sliding you down his cock. You breathed harshly. Your whole body hurt, but you were hoping that the pleasure would wash away the pain. You didn’t have to move anymore, he held you down as he fucked into you harshly, his hips coming up and down as he pleasured himself with your body. You buried your face into the older man’s neck, sucking on his skin to hide your moans. He let you hide, too concentrated on his own pleasure.

After a while, he slowed down a bit. He was tired and his stamina was running out, his age catching up to him.

“Tired, old man?” You asked, amused.

“Killing… people… does… that… to you.” He responded between thrusts.

Your teasing gave him the strength necessary to fuck you harshly. You hid your moans against his mouth, biting his bottom lip and licking into his mouth as he was approaching his end. He pulled out and cum spilled between you two, marking your thighs. He washed you two up with an old rag and let you fall back into the backseat.

“Joel… I was… I was sincere. Were you?”

“I was.”

“Good. And for the record, I’m… I’m sorry. I won’t do it again.”

“I forgive you.”

He massaged softly your sore legs under the blanket as you drifted back to sleep.

#joel miller x reader #joel miller smut #joel miller x yn #joel miller x you #tlou #tlou fanfiction #joel miller #pedro pascal x yn #pedro pascal x reader

[moonrisecoeur]

soothing - leon kennedy

a/n: (PLEASE READ) hey! this is moon! this post would not show up in the tags with the long and detailed warning i put on it, so i made that a separate post. please read this post first before you even look at this one (that post will have the normal info like what content is it and word count along with more notes).

—

leon knows you’re… obsessive. he’s noticed your harsh glares and you possessively holding his waist when you’re both out together. he doesn’t miss the way you talk to other people, especially other people you know would theoretically be leon’s type. he assures you that he’s yours, he belongs to you, that no one will never get to have him the way you do, but it doesn’t make those feelings go away for you; it only mellows them for a short while.

he can’t say he planned for his partner to be so insanely obsessed with him, but it does make him feel better sometimes. especially when he’s having really rough days. when he feels worthless, like the only purpose of his existence is to be a weapon for the government to apathetically throw at problems, you’re there. you remind him, in your own twisted little way, that he’s valuable to someone. even if it’s in a “i need you like i need oxygen so no one else can ever have you and no one else deserves to lay a finger on you i will cut their hands off if they try” kinda way.

the world is fucked up anyway, who’s to say he gets to judge moral character? you make him feel desired and wanted, so what if you’re not a good person?

he’s rather introverted anyway, so it’s not like he’s going out every night and meeting new people. combine that with low self esteem and trauma from, well, being leon, he’s drained and can’t be bothered to care if you’re a little too obsessed.

hell, his last ‘relationship’, if you could call it that, was with a girl who tricked and betrayed him time after time and yet he loved her despite it all. maybe he has a type for the bad ones.

he loves you now. he knows he loves you. he knew he loved you when you once risked everything to save him, and he knew you loved him when you got very brutal revenge on his behalf. he kinda likes your violent side when it works in his favor.

but he still tries to keep you from doing the worst that he knows you’re capable of. he knows if he said more than a few words, or god forbid smiled at any of his friends who you thought ‘wanted him’ (because why does literally everyone want to fuck him?) you’d lose it. he tries to keep your temper contained, so he plays nice, though it’s worth it to him.

to have someone want him so badly that they’d kill for him and do anything to keep him… the idea makes leon’s knees weak. he’d do anything to feel wanted and needed for you. the more you claim him as yours, marking your territory, the more butterflies he feels in his stomach.

you tell someone, “he’s mine, so either back off or i swear that i will fucking rip out your teeth one by one.” he watches them run away pitifully, before turning his attention back to you. you’re smiling at him, and bring your hand up to play with his hair.

“sorry you had to see that, know you don’t like it,” you say softly.

he brushes it off, because he always does. he knows you mean well (even if you don’t). he knows you only threaten others or act violently because you love him and he needs that love. besides, you’re so thoughtful for apologizing because you know he doesn’t like seeing this side of you (which is not entirely true but he did feel bad for that person).

one day, you stumble upon him in your shared room while he’s crying. he tells you it’s okay, it happens, he’s learned how to get through it by himself. you shake your head, noting that this obviously isn’t okay. you sit next to him on the bed, wrapping your arms around him, and you two sit like that for just a moment.

“you’re okay,” your voice stills the air, brings him back to reality, “you’re not in danger, and i’m gonna be here to protect you, okay? i’m here because i care about you, so let me care for you, baby.”

he nods with tears in his eyes, resting his head on your shoulder. he’s forgotten what it feels like for someone to really care, to hold him and tell him he was going to be alright.

after a moment, he’s able to get his breathing under control.

“thank you…” he whispers.

“of course, baby, i’m here for you. i’m always gonna be here for you, i care about you so, so much, leon. no one else will ever care for you the way i do, as much as i do,” you murmur, and he doesn’t seem to notice something glaringly wrong with what you just said.

he doesn’t notice the thoughts swirling around in your head, adoring how fragile he is right now, wanting him to always be like this so he’s always this vulnerable, this dependent on you. he can’t notice any of it. he just lets you hold him, and holds you back in return.

you hold each other until he starts to pull away first, rubbing his teary eyes with the back of his hand, “god, i- i’m sorry. jeez, nothing even set it off. one minute i- i was fine! and the next…” he trails off, and you tell him he’s okay. he’s allowed to be vulnerable and emotional with you. you like him like this anyway. or maybe you just like the way his blue eyes shine when he cries.

and you’re wayyy too overpowering just as a person for him to ever be in charge, especially in bed. sometimes it’ll be soft, just two lovers touching and fondling each other, gasping and moaning and kissing wherever possible. but sometimes your possessive side comes out. it happens the most when he does something you don’t like, i.e. ‘flirting’ with someone else (he was just talking and joking around).

he does like your possessive side though. he likes being pinned down, and if you think you’re not strong enough, trust me, you can put yourself in the right position to make it so he can’t get out from under you. or you could just handcuff him or tie him up, that always works, but there is just something about being physically held down and kissed until his brain shuts off that makes him into a perfect fucktoy.

he likes when you pull out a marker and write stuff like ‘mine <3’ or ‘property of y/n’ on him. especially if it’s with a permanent marker and in a place that people can easily see, on his wrist or neck. he feels claimed, owned, a sense of being property belonging to someone else, not himself.

despite loving your darkness, leon appreciates that you’re rather… soft on him. you take it slow so he has time to adjust, make his heart jump with love and affection every single time you praise him (which you do often bc how could you not? it’s leon, c’mon now) he knows you have it in you to be harder, to fully degrade and humiliate him if you really wanted to. you choose not to.

one day you come home, covered in what he can assume is not your blood. his stomach drops at the thought of what you did, and he goes through every possible interaction he had that day that could have made you do something so drastic, so terrible and cruel. he comes up with nothing.

“what… happened?” he asks, nervously. he tries to keep distance between his body and yours, but you’re closing in on him.

“killed two birds with one stone… literally…” you smirked as he takes a cautious step back, feeling what used to be butterflies in his stomach turn to this heavy sense of dread, “that girl that told you your eyes were ‘so pretty’ and… that guy that touched your arm like he wanted to fucking bite it. don’t worry, sweetheart. i took care of them.”

were you expecting him to thank you? for… committing murder? he’s… at best he’s disappointed and at worst he’s literally horrified.

and it’s terribly timed, but on a separate note? you look insanely hot covered in blood. maybe the feeling in his stomach is only half fear and half something else, or maybe one of his kinks is being afraid for his life. who knows?

you come closer to him, and he can’t find it in himself to ask you to stop approaching him, closing in on him like a predator does it’s prey, “baby,” you murmur to him, softly like you do when you’re soothing him when he’s crying, your hands both coming up to cup his face, getting blood all over his cheeks. your thumb brushes against his bottom lip and he swears you’re intentionally smearing blood on it, “it’s okay,” you say.

it’s not okay, dude. you just killed two people.

maybe you’ve killed more that leon doesn’t know about, and tonight was the night you felt like having him see you like this. you could have gotten away with it if you wanted to, and he would never have known, but you chose to let him find you like this, clothes ruined from how much blood splattered on them, that sadistic ass smile on your face.

you wanted this. you wanted him to see you like this. you wanted to take him like this.

you lean in, pressing a bloody kiss to his forehead (imagine whatever kinda scenario necessary that fits this height wise for u i’m sorry >.<) before leaning in to kiss his lips, both tasting the iron and feeling the wetness of the blood dripping down your chins as he touches you back gently, his hands caressing your arms as you hold him and landing softly on your hips, like he’s saying it’s okay, i accept you for the monster you are.

he knows it’s wrong, he knows he’s a good person and you’re not and there’s a clear line that you’ve brazenly crossed, but he can’t help the butterflies he gets when you’re the darkest, cruelest version of you. covered in blood and all, you want him. despite all his flaws, you want him. he can’t deny you, not when you’ve only ever soothed him when he has traumatized breakdowns and assured him that he’s more than just a weapon or a tool, that he’s loved and needed and wanted.

you press one of your legs between his thighs, forcing his legs open and he lets you, whining as you continue to kiss him, and your hand palms him over his jeans. he feels weak, cornered, and you know you’ve got him right where you want him when you lean to whisper in his ear, “mine.” and he whimpers pathetically, nodding fast as you kiss his neck just a couple times, gently and bloodily.

despite everything, you’re just so endlessly gentle with him that he can’t help but let you get away with this. maybe if he could just get the image of their faces out of his head, he could get over it. once you’ve made him cum three times in a row, his body on the brink of giving out on him, safe to say that’s when he finally forgets. he can’t really think much of anything.

“oh, sweet little thing, don’t you understand? i had to get rid of her, she wanted to get in the way of our love,” you say. and he’d just nod dazedly.

“o-okay,” he mumbles. his brain is foggy and your touch makes it hard to think, but if you say it’s true, then he’s inclined to believe you. clearly, you were doing the right thing by getting rid of her. obviously.

“and that poor boy, it’s too bad that he was a whore, wanted to grope your muscles so fucking bad, hm?” you smirk, “did you like it when he did that? when he touched you?”

“n-no, i-i only like when you do stuff like that to me,” he says he exactly what you want to hear, grasping onto you for support, knowing without you he’d fall apart, “please, i don’t care what you do or… or who you hurt because you love me! just please love me!”

“of course i’ll love you,” your tone softens, you take the victory with a smirk turned soft smile, brushing his hair out of his eyes behind his ear, “you’re so pretty when you’re obedient.”

conditional praise; truly the best way to manipulate him for example: “you’re such a good boy when you only look at me.” that’s his kryptonite, because leon thrives off of praise. being told he’s a good boy makes him giddy on the inside, even if he tries to control his reaction. praise is how you control him.

and after you’re done with him, you put your clothes in the washing machine, take a shower, and walk out like your normal self. he makes you both dinner and you cuddle him to sleep just like usual. though while you’re fast asleep, he lays awake, thinking about what just happened.

he’s always known this could happen, and maybe this isn’t even the first time you’ve killed someone because of him. he’s known for a while now that you’ve become cruel and violent when it came to his relationships with other people, but he can’t shake the feeling of fear deep inside his soul when he physically saw what you’re capable of.

even in your sleep, you touch is soothing to him, and he remembers that he doesn’t really have any better options. he’s convinced no one will ever love him as strongly as you do (not just because you’ve told him that but because again, he’s got low self esteem and you’re way nicer to him than he feels like he deserves).

does he just let you be? no, that wouldn’t sit right on his conscious. does he continue to try and curb your violent tendencies against his better judgement and morals?

or does he try to leave you? he thinks he knows you wouldn’t ever truly hurt him, and he wonders whether or not you’d let him leave if he tried. (he’s not going to, but he wonders...) he just… doesn’t see what else he would do. find someone else? they won’t love him like you do. be single? sure, and be miserable every day because all he can think about is your love, your touch, you.

“what do i do with you…” he mumbles to your sleeping form, resting his head against your chest, feeling the slow heartbeat pumping inside. he likes how it shows your humanity, your normalcy. the one thing about you that doesn’t feel so far away from him.

leon loves you. truly. he doesn’t want that fact to be overshadowed by how disproportionately and insanely you love him. he loves you, still cares about you, still wants to see you happy. you make him happy, in some ways, even if you really terrify him in others. you comfort him and soothe him, you assure him that he’s safe with he wakes up with nightmares from the horrors he’s seen.

he wants to care for you, wants to be the one to hold you when you’re sad and you’re having a bad day. somewhere deep inside his heart, he wants to protect you and keep you safe. even if he knows that’s absurd (because you’re a killer… god he can’t get over that..) he can’t help that his nature is to care for people. maybe that’s what drove you to such insanity in your love for him: in his heart, he never stopped caring about other people. he is the same selfless hero he always was. his softness and care for everyone around him is what made you fall for him… and what made you insane when it comes to your love for him.

despite how terrible you are, he remembers all that you’ve done for him, the moments where your softness and gentleness really showed. he loves that side of you the most. that’s the one he fell for, after all. but he’d be amiss to think that’s the only side of you, or to not acknowledge the other. your cruelty towards people other than him is a side of you just like your kindness towards him is a side of you. they coexist whether he likes it or not.

he comes to the conclusion that there is no sweet you without cruel you, and he must learn to love both or to love neither. he decides he’ll love both, but still maybe try to keep the evilness contained. maybe he can try to talk you out of killing more people.

and when he begs so pretty for you to focus on him and not on the girl trying to flirt with him at the coffee shop, how could you refuse him? if you pulling him away to suck dark, tender hickeys into his neck is the alternative to you killing that poor girl, then he’d say that’s a win-win.

#sub leon kennedy #leon kennedy #leon kennedy x reader #re4 remake #resident evil 4 #leon kennedy x you #leon s. kennedy #leon kennedy smut #resident evil 4 remake #sub leon kennedy smut #resident evil #leon kennedy resident evil #resident evil smut #reader insert #smut #re4 #re4 leon #re4 smut #sub!leon #re6 #re6 leon #i hate using y/n but sometimes it’s unavoidable #every time i read it when i’m reading i feel like it ruins the fantasy #but what am i gonna do? write ‘you write on him things like ‘mine <3’ and ‘property of ’ followed by your name’????? #what the heck is that lol #this is my fourth time posting this please god #moon.y #moon.dc

[yanderederee]

Aftermath…

July 21st, 2004

..T….nt…amitt….damnit…damn…damnit..daMniT DAMNIT DAMNIT DAMNIT

Chifuyu didn’t have the heart to stop him. Chifuyu has always been the one to rest a hand on Baji’s shoulder and stop him when he was being reckless.

However, this time, if Chifuyu were to even try to touch Baji, there was a guarantee that same arm would get bent.

Chifuyu couldn’t stop Baji’s assault on the subway tiles. “Damnit!!” Baji screamed once again. It was amazing how his voice hadn’t given up, going at this same pace for almost 11 hours now.

“Damnit!!” Baji yelled, finally losing vigor. Chifuyu ran to his side, helping his captain to his knees when he couldn’t take the overwhelming dig in his chest.

Baji was a victim too. He’d been forced into things no man ever should have to experience. Let alone a 13 year old kid, with what felt like the weight of the world on his back.

Baji couldn’t control the sobs that took him over in violent tremors. Chifuyu held Baji’s weak form, while they began to cry together.

“Damnit… I ..” Baji croaked out. Chifuyu held on tight, coursing his friend to talk.

Please, just talk to me. I know I can’t help. But please. Let me hurt for you.

“I couldn’t… I tried…” he sighed, blurry vision making out the wrappings on his arms, meant to heal the cuts and burns underneath. The blood that still stained them, because he kept opening the damn things wide open. Chifuyu doesn’t think it’s on purpose. Baji knows it is.

“Why… why does shit like this happen, to good fucking people!” Baji’s rage was slowly on the incline again. His temper may have been bad before, but the severe concussion and trauma he’d been forced to endure, he was uncontrollable.

“She didn’t do anything! Stayed out of toman, never skipped her dumb fucking curfew… S-she…” he bawled. Rage gave way to pain once again, and Chifuyu shook when he held tighter.

Baji almost whispered what came next, sending shivers down Chifuyu’s back.

“I couldn’t understand it before.. wanting to kill someone so badly. So seriously…” he evened out his tone and became stone. “But damnit..Chifuyu-“ he tried to keep the tough face, but as if immediately being brought back to earth, his walls crumbled all over again.

“None of it’s her fault, you’re right.” Chifuyu agreed, quickly following up. “We know who’s to blamed Baji. It’s okay.”

“We’ll get out revenge.”

It had only been two weeks since Toman and Yotsuya Kaiden fought .

…

July 11th, 2004

“…. I thought… we’d get …the chance…” you said softly, between hiccups you held back so harshly. “I had.. so much planned for…”

It was Tanabata after all. And it was long ruined.

“… I know.” Baji spoke into your hair. Ever since muscle in his body was sore, and shaking. “I’m sorry.” He whispered, cradling your head with his one good arm.

“Don’t worry baby, the gods will hear your prayers. I promise you that every god who ..” he paused, pulling away, and firmly cradling with all the softness there was left in him. “I promise, I will make the gods and humans alike, who let this happen. I will ..”

“I’ll make sure that every single one of your wishes come true.” He nuzzled his forehead against yours, uncontrollably letting tears flood past.

You could see Baji’s pupils become uneven, eyelids blinking over and over.. he was going to lose conciousness. “Baji-”

“Keisuke.” His voice broke once, hurt at the usage of his last name. “Pl..lease..” he closing his eyes when he held back a sob. “Please let me still be your Kei.”

…

Baji passed out immediately after those words, sobs racking him in and out of slumber, even still.

There was nothing more you wished to do than to cradle his broken form into you. It was so natural to follow those urges ever since you two agreed on dating.

But you couldn’t disturb him with the equally violent panic attacks what ripped through you without warning.

Nauseous, you felt hands wondering areas they never should have. Disgusted, scared—- you fell out of the hospital bed trying so hard to make it to the bathroom.

Ten minutes later, Chifuyu is stunned into tears when he finds your unconscious form collapsed on the floor, a pool of vomit only feet away.

“Oh god,” stunned when obversing the scene in front of him, he was horrified to actually catch your flickering gaze. Very in and out of consciousness. “Y/n, hey, it’s okay.” Chifuyu encouraged. He sat you up, and folded your knees under his grip, gently carrying you around the accidently and into the bathroom.

“Here,” he sat you by the toilet, discarding his hoodie, and rolled up his sleeves. “Only think about staying sat up against the wall.” He instructed, laying the back of his hand over your forehead.

“Doing great,” he smiled at you brilliantly when you managed to keep his gaze for longer than three seconds. “Take your tim-” he started, until another violent wave of nausea keeled you over the edge of the toilet suddenly.

Holding back a pitiful string of tears, Chifuyu bit his lip and pulled strands of hair from your face. “Let it out,” he kept going, adding considerable pressure into the small circles he rubbed into your back.

Chifuyu sat with you as you lethargically came back in and out of conciousness. Crying some seconds about how awful everything felt, dozing off peacefully into his chest, to worrying about Baji. This cycle repeated from the morning when he first came to check on you, til the nurses released him of his role, and shooed him out. He made sure they kept his hoodie for you to hold onto. Just in case.

“Why didn’t you call for a nurse earlier dumbass?!” Baji kicked Chifuyu’s waiting room chair harshly.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t think about it!” Chifuyu admitted bashful. “I just.. I couldn’t leave.” He shrugged, painfully.

“You’re a good guy, Chifuyu…” Baji said, his head felt like it was spinning while he cradled into his busted hands. “Thank you.. for staying by her.”

“I’m sticking by you too, yaknow.” Chifuyu shoved Baji softly. Baji gave Chifuyu a look over, before smiling. “Thanks…”

Baji would absolutely never in a million’s years admit just how terribly he was struggling. But being a good person, he couldn’t hide it for shit. Not this time.

“‘Kids just go round hitting eachother over the side of the hair for fun these days?”

…

“I just can’t believe the things these kids are getting themselves into anymore!”

…

“Ms Baji, this is serious.. he’s looking at a 3 month healing window, just from a glance…”

…

So much annoying chatter. His head was splitting open so damn bad, he honestly couldn’t really remember any for the next few days, if you’d asked him. Just a few core memories to get by.

He felt pathetic, the dizzy spells that took him down, out from his own feet. He was almost thankful that school was finally out for the semester, since remembering anything was difficult, but above all else, Nothing. Felt. Normal.

While recovering, there were so many times he would excuse himself to hide into a bathroom stall, and let whatever uncontrollable urge take over.

He felt so unlike himself at every given opportunity, uncomfortable in the way his friends and family alike would look at him.

Don’t look at me like that.

He wanted to snap back. And unfortunately, he did.

His sense of irritability spiking and diminishing quicker than a conversation could be held.

He’d get frustrated at the littlest of mistakes.

Baji couldn’t stand the look of pity everyone gave him when he slipped or slurred a word.

Yet, out of every person, he made dead honest effort to push pash every single symptom down, if only for a few minutes or hours.

Just to enjoy the feeling of comforting you.

Baji cries alone to himself more than ever, but he made, forced you into pinky promising him that should you ever, ever, ever, need him ever, for any reason. He would escape his hospital room and force his way into yours.

To be here with you, now. It’s past midnight, quiet and dark, easy on his dissipating headache. Baji heard you wake up with a gurgled, terrified scream.

The same scream that ripped him wide open in the first place.

Bolted, Baji came to witness your sweat stained hospital gown clinging to you while you were gathering your bearings, upright in the bed and panting, hyperventilating.

You held eachother the entire night, sharing sniffles, and tighter squeezes.

“How are you feeling?” You asked him, leaning against his chest, while he lay his back in your hospital bed.

“Nothin’ to worry about,” he gave you a reassuring smile. “I’m already halfway healed.”

You stare into him deeper, and knowing you were about to call his bluff, he looked away and chuckled. “Yeah, I’m hangin in there.” He answered honestly.

“But.. I’m seriously more worried about you,” he gently touched, his bad arm tucked into your side as you carefully considered it while cuddling into him closer.

As bad of a liar as you may be to him, you always made sure to wear this obvious mask of serenity. You rolled your eyes, as though being used to hearing this now.

“I’m not going to force it out of you,” Baji rested his forehead against the dip of your temple. “I have no idea what kind of things go on inside your head. Wish I did,” he chuckled shifting to kiss your cheekbone. “… you’re smart. I trust you…” he shifted your absent gaze, dewing up when he made deep eye contact.

“I trust you to talk to me,” he whispered again. “I’ll be anything you need, forever.”

“So when you’re ready, I’m here…”

#FragileDearest #tokyo revengers #tokyo rev #baji keisuke #baji #tokyo revengers x reader #baji x reader #tokyo rev x y/n #tokyo rev comfort #tokyo revengers chifuyu #Chifuyu #matsuno chifuyu #tokyorev chifuyu #chifuyu matsuno #baji keisuke x reader #bajifuyu #bajifuyu x reader

[soulforayandere]

Here he is, Damon!

So happy how he turned out, even if his nose gave me and my artist a bit of trouble XD

Art by: Ozaya

Damon/Br0ken Colors by: @inkly-heart

Br0ken Fantasy AU info for Damon below the cut :3c

(I tried to keep him faithful to his original while still making an AU)

Damon is a Warg, a being with the ability to change into a beast-like form, but this ability is fueled by the consumption of fresh/ raw meat. This leaves his people with negative stigmas and subject to racist persecution. Most tend to live in rural areas for generations, getting used to how they are treated and building a cohabitation relationship with those around them. But some refuse to roll over and settle for being mistreated, often leading them to live in larger populated areas, where they can blend into crowds and just be one of thousands.

As a pup, Damon was always the quite one, just awkwardly trying to stay out of others way. Unfortunately, being a warg, he was subjected to horrible bullying all through his schooling. His parents tried to refocus his mind, find something to placate his sorrow and anger to "play nice" and play the part of a "domesticated warg" like them. Over time Damon found a love for gardening, even learning botany and herbology to better help his garden thrive. Naturally when the other kids found out a boy was into taking care of plants they only upped their bullying.

There was one girl that seemed to like his garden, always stopping on her way to school or home to smell the flowers or watch the butterflies. Damon was far too shy to talk to her, so would just hide and watch her. This watching turned into following her, learning everything about her he could. He thought if he got to know her better, then he could tell her how he felt easier. When he finally got enough courage to confess to her, she shot him down cruelly. It got out he had stalked her, and she went from disgusted to disturbed and angry. She spread the word to the other kids, and a group of boys destroyed Damon's garden as revenge. From that moment on, all the kids refused to use his name, only referring to him as "Stalker" instead.

Over time, he accepted the new name, all but owning it as he grew into a teenager. He became more violent as he aged, the years of abuse taking it's toll. That same girl, his first crush, became a regular in his abuse. One day he just snapped, her words and actions just becoming too much, and he attacked her. He killed her, and in his haze of rage and cool thought, disposed of the body. He was never caught for the killing, the girl just permanently listed as missing, but there were those in his class that suspected him. Due to the gentle nature of his parents, those in charge brushed the kids accusations off, thinking Damon too weak to even "warg-out" (shift into beast form). The kids tried to take matters into their own hands, and tormented him into giving a confession. The came to a head when a group of boys tried to jump him while running errands for him mom. They attacked him, claiming they'd kill him for what he did. But Damon shifted in his other form and easily subdued all of them. He didn't kill any of them that time, but made it known he could, and left them broken and bloody. After that, everyone left him alone, totally ignoring his existence and not interacting at all. Seeing the mistreatment of their son, and how he was on a dark spiral that wouldn't end well, Damon's parents made the decision to move to Hueväri City and gave their son a better chance in life.

As an adult, Damon keeps to himself and avoids most people. His depression and loneliness eats him up, and he yearns for nothing more than someone to be close to and love, but the fear of being rejected terrifies him. He picked up his old habit of stalking people that catch his interest, learning anything and everything about them before he makes any move to approach them. Even if his self doubt tells him he'd never find someone who would accept him for what he is, he still dreams of finding love and having a happily ever after. 

During one of his stalking trips, he ran into a man on a hunt of his own. The man was DG, an Unseelie who fed off the fear he caused in others. DG at first meant to make Damon a victim, but when the warg showed little to no fear of the dark being, he became interested in different ways. In a strangely fast way, the two became good friends, and Damon joined DG on his "hunting trips" time to time. He's help hunt their target, and get his reward in the form of some of the victim's meat. The now steady supply of magically charged meat (fresh meat from a "being" naturally has magic while normally processed animal meat usually doesn't) gave Damon a boost in power and self control he'd never had before, making him just a bit addicted to it.

Notes

He owns a flower shop and apothecary. His love of plants and herbology never wavered, and even if he's not the most popular shop in town, he's still happy he has what he has. His favorite flowers are roses, and he often experiments in making crossbreeds for different color effects in the blooms.

He enjoys dancing, but is too shy to dance in front of most people. He either needs to be in a large crowd where no one would pay attention to him, or he needs to be totally lost in the music to dance in front of people. He mostly dances in his shop as he cleans up or in the privacy of his own home. He once tried to show a fancy dance he learned from videos to DG, but the man just teased him for it, so he vowed not to do that again.

He can't cook, never really learned how, so he mostly eats his meals out of a microwave or raw. He has a meat heavy diet, so it's common to see raw meat on his plate and blood covering his countertops. Besides meat, Damon has a soft spot for chocolate.

Besides his plants, Damon likes nature photography. He'd often take trips to the parks to take pictures of the plants and animals just vibing in the sun. When he stalks a crush, he often takes pictures of them like a nature photographer. He has a binder of photos under his bed, and when a crush rejects him (and DG "makes them pay") he burns all their pictures as a way to let go.

After he starts fallowing Fef, along with her pictures, he steals some of her belongings time to time. He's read though her journal countless times, stollen underwear, taken pictures of her "toy" box, and hid in her closet a few times just to watch her go about her life. (bonus for him when he caught her using said toys and saying his name)

Normally he'd wear his hair all lose, but after he caught Fef blushing at him and she admitted to preferring him with his hair up, he now mostly keeps the long fount portions of his hair tied back.

#broken colors #br0ken colors damon #br<3ken colors #br0ken colors #br0ken fantasy

[dirtytransmasc]

No thoughts just Spider getting his revenge on Lyle when he sees him again.

Wait does Quaritch know what happened to Spider? Or did he only find out when he first saw him on the battlefield field all blue and tall.

so I'm gonna answer this in the context of the recoms not getting a redemption (rare for me). this ficlet is centered around the things that, to me at least, make spider, spider. it is his sense of mercy and empathy and overall kindness to even his enemies, I can't see him being cruel or particularly violent.

spider, being spider, tries so hard to find mercy within himself, wanted to kill only out of duty not out of vengeance. but part of him, is so angry, that demon took so much from him, from his family; years of his life, witnessing his siblings grow up, his family's feeling of peace, his body of all things.

so while he refuses to straight out claim his goal for vengeance, he does claim lyle as his kill, that unless absolutely necessary, he be taken in alive. he vows to eywa that it would be a clean, merciful kill, promises himself that as a means to protect himself from the rage he feels.

he isn't like those demons, he does not take pleasure in the kill, he does not hunt down other humans or na'vi like they are an animal, and he does not disvalue a man's life as all life is sacred no matter his personal feelings on the matter. now that he could truly connect with eywa, he practically swore pacifism outside of necessity, in her honor, following her beliefs to the word and with great passion; life is sacred, killing without need is shameful, and now he feels the calls of a personal vendetta forcing the cravings of blood on him? eywa have mercy.

he goes into battle each day waiting to see his face, waiting to hear his name. he almost feels shame in how ready he is to take that man's life, to drain the light from his eyes. he prays to eywa after each battle, each night that passes with that man's heart still beating, that he finds it in himself to quell the flames that roared in his belly, burning his heart, his lungs, his everything.

when lyle is captured, they make his execution public. a warning, the tsamsiyu pesu 'awnim tspang (the warrior who avoids the kill) executing a prisoner, is a force to be reckoned with. spider treats him with honor, despite the flame flickering in his throat.

during his capture her makes sure he is fed and given water, his restraints don't become tight enough to cut him, watched over him as he slept so he could be in loose bonds.

he talked, a lot, lists every bit of pain, from losing his body, being in a coma for years, stuck in his own head completely and utterly alone, to losing the opportunity to watch his little siblings grow up, the one thing a big brother cherish's most.

he may not have tortured lyle physically but he did emotionally. he speaks of his mother and father, the pain they suffered, his siblings, growing up next to a glorified corpse, all the lives lost to save him. he knows lyle's a family man, remembered how much he had loved and taken to spider back during his time in captivity. he knows that every word he speaks, of his own pain, his family's pain, breaks lyle down bit by bit, knowing he nearly killed the kid he began to consider his own weighs on his chest like a pile of boulders, cutting off his breath.

the execution itself is simple, lyle is tied to a stake and spider makes a speach to his people;

"I kill this tawtute ‘ongokx nìmun mìfa tsleng Na'vi tokx (skyperson born again inside a false Na'vi body) as a testament of my people, of how we will continue this war. this man nearly took my life, took away years of my journey I will never get back, devastated my family and my people. I had every right to destroy him, to have him tortured or left to wither as he left me; it was my right to make it personal, to take out my rage, to devalue him like he has devalued us. but I didn't, because in the eyes of Eywa that is wrong. his life mattered, even if he has hands soaked in blood, my blood. this is how we fight this war, we fight them as if they are our equals, we kill only out of necessity. brother's and sister's I know your pain, it has touched me as well, lit a fire in my stomach that licks at the top of my mouth as I speak, but we must find it in ourselves to honor our enemy. we must not be like them, we must not take joy and glory from their deaths, but only our victories, we must have mercy so that when we judge ourselves in peace times, we don't feel the weight of our mercilessness on our backs. we must fight the way Eywa intends. let me be that example." he spoke calm and true, like a true leader, one who has met eywa and returned to tell the tale.

he looks to lyle, blade in hand. "oel ngati kameie, vrrtep, tsunslu nga run fpom nìronsrel Eywa, (I see you, demon, may you find peace in Eywa)"

"'oeru txoa livu," its the first and only words lyle had said willingly during his entires, not "I'm sorry" but the much heavier "may their be forgiveness for me" tearing spider's heart in two. when spider urge's him to talk again, he only flash's a sad smile, eyeing the knife and nodding.

spider didn't want to do this, he did and he didn't, the fire was threatening to consume him if he didn't, but his heart, the heart everyone claimed was too good for a child touched by Eywa to be a tsam kxìmyu (war commander), wanted nothing more then to let him go.

but he did it anyway, sliding the blade between his ribs, hands becoming flush with the man's skin, piercing his heart instantly. spider swears he felt its last panicked beats against his knife, felt sick as it twitched for just a second before going eerily still. lyles death was just as instant as the knife was, he didn't even get the chance to make a sound, but he died with a sense of peace on his face that he didn't carry before.

"Oeru txoa livu, ma oeyä tsmukan. Kä set ne sa'nok tirea. Ngari hu Eywa salew tirea, tokx 'ì'awn slu Na'viyä hapxì, (death prayer)," his words shake as the flame's simmer down to hot embers and he pulls the knife from lyle's chest.

he hear's the somber cheers of the crowed, he doesn't hear what they're saying exactly, as he's too busy cutting the man down from the stake, gently guiding him to rest on the ground, feeling every emotion possible all at once. he felt both relief and agony at once, like the weight of this mans sins were taken off his shoulder and replaced with his own grief. this man may have hurt him but first he befriended him, took care of him, and as much as he was a demon there was good in him, deep down, practically eradicated, and spider had to live with that knowledge, that he was the one who rid him of that chance to uncover it, embrace it, no matter how unlikely it was.

spider would hand the body back over, even if it displeased his people, it just felt right. honor was worth more then his image, any day, but especially now with eywa looking over his shoulder, guiding him to be the best he could be.

he hadn't seen his father face to face, refusing to go near him, but he knew he was out there, watching, no doubt with contempt;

it was quite the opposite really, miles watched his boy grow to be someone even the RDA respected, a boy full of honor and grace, who fought fair and with mercy, every breath calculated to cause as little death as necessary to achieve his goals and protect his people. the boy he had feared he lost, waited years with a gut feeling he was out there, only confirmed by sully's raids, to appear in the battlefield. to see him in a na'vi body was odd, it took a few encounters to piece it together in his mind completely, but that was his boy, big and blue now. he couldn't bring himself to see him as an enemy, even as he lead thousands of warriors, fought and killed soldiers with ease, held speeches and rallies, called for the fall of the RDA. that was his boy, and he watched on with pride.

spider knew returning the body would only lead to its senseless burning, like all sky people were burned upon their deaths, no matter how noble. no one cared enough to take time to bury their dead on the opposing side anymore.

miles buried lyle in a clearing, the man like to watch eclipse begin and end, could watch it over and over. it wasn't much of a looker, but the spot gave him a perfect view of it. he'd miss his right hand man, his corporal, his other half. lyle had been his bald bastard come hell or highwater for the last god knows how many years, it hurt to lose him.

the war would continues till it was father against son, the last remaining soldier versus an army of warriors, led only by his own kin. his son would spare him with the threat of a death worse than to all the flames and tar in the world. it would have to be spider to make that kill, after everything, and that was a kill he couldn't make. with the RDA gone for good, what remained innocent of the human race settled, and no hope for any insurgency again, spider was finally allowed to give the mercy he so longed for to his father. it was a risk, one he ran over and over in his head till it felt heavy with thoughts, so heavy it threatened to rip right off his neck, but he decided it was the right choice; his father, in this body anyway, wasn't given a choice, and even if he did willingly do what he did, it was because he was a back into a corner. spider knew better than to kill an enemy that stood no chance of escape, it was cruel. he could never atone for his sins, but he could live them out in solitude, never to be taken in or accepted by any clan.

they would never meet again, but spider found comfort in knowing his dear old dad was out there, probably watching him grow, watching him lead beside his big brother. for once there was comfort in feeling eyes on your back and turning to see no one there. this was true peace, getting to live with your mercy, it felt good.

#didn't expect to be so in love with this #mild redemption cause I can't help it #I tried #but it didn't have the right oompf to it y'know #miles socorro #miles spider socorro #spider socorro #quaritch #avatar the way of water #avatar 2 #spider te suli tsyeyk'itan #miles quaritch #recom lyle #lyle wainfleet #recom lyle wainfleet

[shadowpunk]

15th August, 2011 (2 hours before)

The air was hot and dry as Jasper was walking down the decrepit drive way, followed by his two younger siblings. Summers in Oklahoma had always been brutal. A single droplet of sweat slowly rolled down his temple and the teenager wiped almost annoyed over his face. „For fuck sake, this heat is killing me!“ he cursed out, more to himself than to his siblings. Jasper could feel their eyes on him and without even checking he knew what expression they would have. How he could read their worry for him in their eyes like an open book, their apologetic smiles on their lips. And of course the pity. Jasper hated it. Not because he didn’t want them to care about him. He was more than glad that at least two people in this town saw him for more than being the weird outsider. But he wanted to feel like their big brother. Not like a beaten up street dog. „How is your back, Jas?“ Eriks voice cut through the silence and Jasper gave him a quick glance over the shoulder. How the hell did he know about that?

(major trigger warning for physical abuse, please don’t read any further if this is a triggering topic for you)

„But the one who does not know and does things deserving punishment will be beaten with few blows. From everyone who has been given much, much will be demanded; and from the one who has been entrusted with much, much more will be asked,“ he could barely hear his mothers voice as he was leaning against the wall. Pain and adrenaline were rushing through his body, as the leather snapped over and over against the exposed skin of his back. His lips were pressed tightly together, trying to suppress any noise that tried to escape his mouth. The teenager closed his eyes. He often fantasized about getting back at his parents for what they were doing to him. How he would finally get the sweet revenge after enduring all the violent outbursts of his father. Pure hate had planted its seed years ago in the young boy and had grown over all the years. Had infected every fiber of his body, his thoughts. And it fueled him. „Let that be a lesson for you,“ his fathers voice interrupted the boys thoughts and he slowly opened his eyes. He simply nodded, his voice too weak and sore to actually say something. »What lesson is that supposed to be? That god doesn’t give a single fuck about me?«

„I have no idea what you’re talking about,“ the teenager replied and kicked a rusted can in front of him. He was about to give it another kick, when a sharp pain suddenly shot through his back. Jasper flinched as he shakily let some breath out of his mouth, trying his best to get over the pain that was now radiating through his whole body. „Stop lying to us! We know what father did last night, we heard you.“ Karlis voice trembled a bit but to his surprise she looked more angry than anything else, her hand still lifted in the air from the shove she had given him. Was she angry at him? He had tried his best to keep quiet. „Sorry,“ he mumbled as his eyes met the ground in front of his dirty shoes. They were way too young to be confronted with this and Jasper felt awful. Like he had failed to protect them. „It’s not your fault, you know that right?“ Erik had always been the calm and mature one. It was hard to believe that he was only 13. Jaspers vision became blurry as tears started to dwell up, so he quickly turned away. It was enough that they had to hear him last night, they don’t needed to see him crying too. Jasper was ashamed. Ashamed about his weakness, ashamed that he was doing such a poor job as their big brother, ashamed that he was who he was. He had to do better. „It’s alright guys, don’t worry about it,“ he eventually replied when his voice finally didn’t feel like breaking any moment anymore.

[to be continued]

#deep dive into the ✨past✨ #enjoy the tears it’s the only way you’re gonna see them #yes i was bored #10. WRITINGS #writingsfakevz

[intercoursefluids]

Well That Happened Chapter 16

This entire chapter is very gory and bloody and violent so if you aren't okay with that don't read it. I'll post the gist of what happened here so you don't need to.

SPOILERS: Marinette attacks Hawkmoth like a rabid animal, he fights back, she beats him (I would go into detail but again, very gory) she takes the miraculous from him and says all the shit he has done to the people of Paris before telling him that she won't give him the mercy of death and leaving him to the people of Paris

Marinette’s blood roared in her ears, her heart pounding against her ribcage as her vision narrowed in on him.

Hawkmoth.

He was the cause of all her problems, the cause of an entire city’s suffering.

She could hear people crying begging for someone to save them, children screaming in fear from the monsters that chased them down the streets and stole their families from them.

She could see the blood coating the streets, the buildings crumbling as people tried in vain to brace for cover.

She saw people getting crushed beneath buildings, saw people drown, burn, suffocate, turn into mindless monsters.

She saw it every time she closed her eyes.

Could hear it in the silence.

Could feel it in the calm of her room.

She lived it over and over again in the few precious moments in peace.

She had seen it all, had heard the cries and groans of Paris, had felt their tears and desperation as they tried to survive.

She had born witness to it all.

And there he stood.

The bastard who had caused it all.

The monster who had killed her, over and over again. In more ways than should be possible.

He had the audacity to place himself before her.

He held the misguided belief that he would leave her presence still standing.

Rage boiled her blood, flooding her veins and filling her lungs.

Marinette watched the blood splatter across his face as her fist connected with his nose.

She grabbed him by the throat, letting her heartbeat set her fist’s rhythm.

Something smashed her in the gut, ripping her away from him and slamming her back into a building.

She was back up before the movement could even register.

Marinette sprinted towards him, blinding rage dulling everything around her as she closed in on her target.

He swung his cane, catching her across the cheek and making her stumble.

She followed the motion, swinging her leg around to kick him in the stomach as she grabbed half a broken brick.

Marinette smashed the brick against his head as she came back around, could feel it crumble against her hand as blood started to trickle down his temple.

He kicked her away, turning to run as she fell.

Marinette didn’t let him, lobbing a rock at the back of his knee as she scrambled to stand.

It hurt, everything hurt but she didn’t care.

He needed to be punished.

She needed to be the one to punish him.

Paris was her city. These were her people he was hurting.

This was personal.

Hawkmoth scrambled away, trying to run with a limp as Marinette closed in on him.

He looked like he was screaming, Marinette couldn’t hear what he was saying.

She rushed him, drawing her nails down his face and leaving behind angry red marks.

He kicked her back but she didn’t fall this time, she stumbled and lunged again.

He grabbed his cane, ripping off the sheath to reveal the sword hidden inside.

Hawkmoth swung his sword towards her blindly, slashing at her in an attempt to keep her at bay.

It slashed her arm, cutting deep enough to make blood run down her arm but it still wasn’t enough.

She was going to get her revenge, one way or another.

He could not escape her.

Marinette dodged another swing, taking a step back to move out of the way.

She wasn’t sure what she stepped on but it buckled under her weight.

Marinette stumbled, she was quick to correct herself but Hawkmoth seized the opportunity.

He swung his sword down, slashing her across the chest and planting his foot in her chest.

He booted her away, sending her flying back against something hard.

Marinette gasped on impact, stars filling her eyes as her head rocked back against the stone.

The roaring in her ears was replaced with a shrill ringing as she tried to regain her bearings.

Marinette moved to stand, bracing herself from the pain as she tried to move.

He kicked her again, shoving her back against the bolder she had hit while grinning manically.

Marinette snarled, trying to hit him again but he kicked her arm away.

Pain shot up her arm from the kick and between the fracture and the deep gash, she was pretty sure that arm was useless now.

Marinette hissed in pain, trying to get away from him.

The momentum she had been fighting with was gone, the adrenalin starting to wear off and be replaced with pain.

She wasn’t in fighting shape and they both knew it.

Something glared, reflecting in the sun and blinding her for a moment.

Marinette glanced over, trying to see what it was just in time for Hawkmoth to plunge his sword into her chest.

Marinette gasped, staring at the shining metal protruding from her chest as Hawkmoth stood over her.

He was grinning like a mad man.

His stupid bald cap had been ripped apart by Marinette, his hair protruding around his head in jagged spikes from where she had pulled on it. There were bald spots from where she had ripped it out.

He was covered in blood, his nose at an odd angle and a few of his teeth seemed to be broken.

He looked like shit.

“You stupid little freak!”

Marinette blinked, zeroing in on him.

“Why won’t you just die already!” He screamed.

His chest was heaving, bloody spittle flying from his lips as he screeched.

“YOU CANNOT DISOBEY ME; I AM A GOD LITTLE GIRL.” He screamed at her.

Marinette blinked, staring blankly at Hawkmoth before rolling her head to the side.

Marinette looked around her, struggling to breathe with the sword sticking out of her chest and the grown man hysterically screaming in her face.

There was a sword, barely sticking out of the bolder above her.

Marinette grinned, her bloody teeth on full display.

Hawkmoth didn’t like that. He grabbed her face, forcing her to look at him while he screamed at her.

Marinette couldn’t hear him, she didn’t care to.

Her momentum was gone. Her adrenalin had faded.

Her rage remained.

Marinette bit Hawkmoth, sinking her teeth into his hand and refusing to let go.

Hawkmoth screeched, yanking his hand back and ripping a chunk of flesh away with the action.

Marinette reached her hand up, feeling for the sword in the stone as she spit out his skin.

She never broke eye contact with him, slowly pulling his sword out of her chest as she forced herself up.

Blood dribbled from her mouth as she stumbled to her feet.

Marinette stared Hawkmoth in the eyes as she pulled the sword out of the stone, the metal scraping harshly as it jerked free.

Hawkmoth flinched, taking a step back as Marinette threw his sword at his feet.

It clattered to the ground loudly, her blood glistening in the sun as it dripped off the metal and onto the ground.

“Pick it up.” She said coldly.

Hawkmoth looked at her, then his sword.

There was a slight tremor in his hands as he stared at her.

The manic look his eyes had held before had been replaced, fear now coated his eyes with a shiny gloss.

Marinette took a stumbling step towards him, a snarling grin covering her face.

“Pick it up.” She said again.

Hawkmoth shook his head, stumbling back as he clutched his bloody hand to his chest.

Marinette swayed slightly, eyes locked on Hawkmoth as he refused the mercy she offered him.

“M’kay.” She said cheerily.

Marinette swayed precariously, falling forward before she caught herself.

She used the move to burst into a sprint, gripping her new weapon with her only good hand and bloodlust written on her face.

Marinette swung her sword in an arc, aim directly for his throat.

Hawkmoth stumbled back, tripping over the rubble and scrambling backwards as Marinette swung at him.

She slashed her sword through the air over and over again, each time just barely missing him.

Letting him think he was dodging her attacks as she corralled him into a corner.

It was only when his back hit the wall that he realized what she was doing.

Marinette smiled sweetly, standing over him as he shook in fear below her.

Marinette reared back, pointing her sword down and stabbing him in the leg.

Hawkmoth screamed, his hands moving to hold the injured leg.

“Does it hurt?” Marinette ask innocently, putting more of her weight on the sword.

Hawkmoth blubbered, tears rolling off his mask as Marinette roughly jerked her weapon from his leg.

Hawkmoth’s hands covered the area, trying to cover the bleeding wound with shaking hands.

Marinette tutted, squatting down in front of him with a concerned look on her face.

“It’s not that bad, is it?” Marinette said curiously.

Marinette stabbed her sword back into his other leg.

“I mean, it can’t be that bad. You did this to so many other people, it’s almost like this hurts.” She said, slowly twisting the sword back and forth.

“You’re fucking crazy-!” Hawkmoth screech, gasping as Marinette twisted the sword.

Marinette laughed, slowly dragging her sword out of his leg.

Marinette tossed her sword aside, gripping Hawkmoth’s face and forcing him to look her in the eyes as she spoke.

“What was it you said earlier?” She asked, tilting her head. “Something about you being a god?”

Marinette’s smile dropped as she stared at him, the humor bleeding out of her voice.

“You’re no god. You’re just a man playing make believe.” She said, roughly pushing his face to the side.

Marinette reached down towards his throat , she watching him flinch as her fingers brush against his neck.

Watched as his eyes turned wide as the magic hiding his identity faded away.

Marinette stood up, clutching both miraculous in her hand as she stared at the bastard who had stolen her life from her.

“Gabriel Agreste. You have committed atrocious crimes against the people of Paris. You slaughtered millions, several times over. You have separated families, ruined lives, stolen childhoods. You have subjected the people of this city to suffering that will not end with you.”

“You have drowned us. Burned us alive. We have been impaled, crushed, buried alive and turned against each other by your mind control. You have turned innocent people into puppets for your selfish purpose against their will and so much more.”

“Even after you are gone, the memories will haunt us. The phantom scars will coat our bodies and nightmares will haunt our dreams. There is no atonement for you. You tested my patience, tried my good will and crushed my heart. You will see no mercy from me.”

“I stand before you as your judge, as your jury, but not your executioner. You will not meet the grace of death by my hand.”

Marinette stood, glaring Gabriel down as he trembled before her.

She could almost laugh.

A man this weak had thought to call himself a god.

What a joke.

Marinette pinned the miraculous to her dress, grabbing the handle of her sword and dragging it behind her as she walked away.

He couldn’t run, even if he tried to.

Marinette had made sure of it.

He was surrounded, unable to stand let alone walk.

And she had the miraculous, he couldn’t hurt anyone anymore.

Tag List:

@Dontbenddontbreak

@Its-maemain

@Toodaloo-kangaroo

@Doll246

@Jennifer-rose123

@Razzledazzle247

@Cydaeashootingstar

@Madhatter-crazyasahatter-blog

@miyatalksshit

@Vroomtaka

@animegirlweeb

@rosesandsailboats

@depressed-bitchy-demon

Come Find Me On Discord!<3

#maribat #ml x dc #dc x mlb #mlb x dc #marinette x damian #maridami #Surprise! Lukadaminette is now part of this fic #It surprised me too #Lukadaminette #Luka X Marinette X Damian

[the-incorrigible-chaia]

The White Fang Arc Is Racist

I'm saying this as someone who really, genuinely adores RWBY as a show: The way the White Fang arc was written is racist.

(Note: I'm not saying the writers are racist, I'm saying that the story they wrote, as it stands, has racist elements. Describing people as racist is usually less helpful than describing actions or choices as racist.)

Remember:

Simply put: They should have either a) introduced Sienna Khan much, much earlier, and made it abundantly clear that Adam was going rogue, or b) not killed her off, or c) both.

The problem with Adam Taurus isn't that he's a villain, an abusive piece of shit, or that he ended up being killed by Blake and Yang. The problem is that he's taken as the be-all and end-all of violent Faunus resistance to human persecution. In the show as we have it, Adam's White Fang is the only example we have of Faunus rights activists who are willing to use violence. The show polarizes between the Good Activists who never use violence and instead try to Set An Example and Earn The Humans' Respect, and the Bad Activists who are siding with Salem, who blow up cities and unleash Grimm into schools and cut off Yang's arm - and against whom violence by Team RWBY is therefore justified. This implies that violence against Faunus rights activists is OK as long as they're Bad Activists, but violence by Faunus rights activists is not, because that would make them Bad Activists.

And this is, I think, why they tried to backpedal by introducing Sienna Khan. She is, in my opinion, a great character. Ghira's speech in V5C3 made clear that while he, as a character, doesn't approve of her violent methods, her goal is that of equality. She's a good person with just goals who also uses violence where necessary - the same as Robyn Hill, or Team RWBY themselves.

But she should have been brought up much, much, much earlier. By casting Adam as the leader of the White Fang in Volumes 2 and 3, the entire White Fang is cast as villains who are working with the known evil of Cinder. If they'd even mentioned Sienna Khan earlier - maybe had some White Fang grunts express reservations about going behind her back, or have Adam lie to her about his plans - it would have made it clear that Adam is going rogue and acting on his own personal bullshit.

But they didn't do that.

So V4 rolls around, and Sienna is mentioned by the Albains, only for them to be revealed to also be working for Adam. Bleh. Finally, Sienna appears in V5 - much too late - and dresses down Adam for his bullshit. And this could have been the point where Adam fully goes rogue, splits off on his own, and tries to go after Blake. Hell, he could still have launched a coup, and we could have gotten a season of Sienna and Ghira having to put aside their differences to stop him - since, as Blake points out in V5, Haven falling wouldn't materially help the Faunus at all. It's a plan wholly composed by Salem to get the Relic. That story could have ended with Sienna retaking control of the White Fang, maybe with her and Ghira having both learned from the situation - Sienna learning not to allow the conditions that let someone like Adam's influence grow unchecked, and Ghira learning that sometimes violence is the only viable option. They could both renew their commitment to Faunus equality, and to working together in the future to get it.

But no, they don't do that. Instead, they kill Sienna off, and flatten the nuance back down to Good Activists Who Are Peaceful vs. Bad Activists Against Whom It Is OK To Be Violent (and OK to inflict police violence towards.)

Adam is a good villain, a perfect representation of someone who's decided that justice is impossible, so the next best thing is revenge. But without Sienna Khan present in the story to provide important nuance, Adam's presence as a villain makes him representative of all violent praxis, and in condemning him, the story also condemns that praxis.

And that's racist.

#rwby #rwde

[mongrelmutt]

Continuing the Jules Verne kick with "20,000 Leagues Under the Sea"

Under a cut because this is longer than the others:

- This is my least favorite of his books so far. I am falling asleep while reading it.

- The professor calling Conseil his "boy" when Conseil is 30 years old, and only 10 years younger than him  😬😬😬

- *Hisses at Captain Nemo* Bad Vibes

- I'm pretty sure physics doesn't work like this, but I don't know enough to argue. Nor do I care enough to look it up. I am just so bored. Please get to more interesting things. 

- Also, lol of course the Victorian dudes would be like "WHALE BODIES MUST BE STRONG AND IMMOVEABLE LIKE MANLY IRON TO DIVE SO DEEP AND NOT BE KILLED!" Wrong! they squish and adjust their innards to adapt to the pressure: 

- Trying to suss out what (if any) real sea life is being described when no name is given, just fantastic descriptions.

- Sleeping underwater in scuba gear seems... unwise.

- More 19th century anthropology 😬😬😬

- Yes, yes I understand that the water temperature is invariably 4⁰ wherever and whatever time of the year at depth. You've said that like 8 times already. This had better turn out to be relevant. [Note: not particularly]

- I do not like Ned Lands.

- Shark slander 😭

((Why did the myth that sharks have to turn over to bite things last so long? I remember it from "James and the Giant Peach" as well. I would have thought enough people would have at least seen sharks biting bait at the surface by the 1800s for this to be known false?))

- Man, these guys are a bloodthirsty lot. Every new animal they see they're like "Can I kill it?? Please let me kill it! Let's kill it! 😈 Man, wouldn't you jump at the chance to kill sharks like you do bears and lions??" :/

- At the same time they're afraid of everything, assume it's dangerous, and, if not killed instantly, will retaliate violently in revenge, including a freaking *dugong.*

- Wow, some people at least knew industrial commercial whaling was unsustainable and would result in the whales' extinction even in the late 1800s! Wild that it took almost 100 years to get it (mostly) banned!

- *head desk* Nemo is such a hypocrite (I imagine that may be The Point)

- Ugggghhh the whole "predators are evil, vicious monsters, and we need to slaughter them all without mercy to protect the poor innocent prey animals" attitude still so prevalent today.

- ...wait, those are *sperm whales*?? I thought they meant killer whales at first! Sperm whales  don't even eat baleen whales... All that brutal slaughter for nothing :'( 

- ... Bonus for an even more uncomfortable use of "voluptuous" than Bram Stoker! Seal eyes are described as "voluptuous" 😆

- Of all the sea creatures to declare harmless Verne chose *elephant seals* 🤦🤣

- YAY THE KRAKEN!! At least these covers haven't lied to me!! :D 

- aaaw no, the giant squid didn't play nearly as big a part as advertised *le sigh*

- Ah, the classic "crap I've written my characters into a deadly corner, time to knock out the POV character and have them wake up safe in bed later." 

- Why did the Professor talk about Lands like he was dead at the beginning? I can see a few reasons from the author's perspective (varying from "deliberate red herring to increase the suspense" to "oops I forgot dude was originally going to die and didn't correct it") but not from the character's? It's not even like he was reflecting on the matter from decades later, when Ned might have died after the story, they're all still chilling together in Norway waiting for a steamer home?

Lands: Stop telling people I died.

Professor Aronnax: Sometimes I can still hear his voice.

- Welp, I did enjoy the sea critters and fun steampunk machines, just not the long rambling bits that seemed to overwhelm the story for me

#my adhd was showing hard with this one #personal #lol #reading #I really need a witty tag for this endeavor

[loosesodamarble]

The Cresswell Family

Jack the Ripper doesn't seem like the type to start a family but he eventually settles down with a woman named Kathline. They end up having two kids: Daniel and Jill.

..........

Kathline Cresswell

An alternate spelling of the name Katherine which is derived from a Greek word meaning "pure."

Age (at the beginning of the events of BC): 25 (making her three years younger than Jack)

Birthday: September4

Magic Attribute: Steel

Appearance: Kathline has mousy brown hair which is long enough to reach her shoulder blades and somewhat unruly. Around the house, she leaves it loose and ties it up mostly when she works. Her eyes are a deep green color.

Personality: An unassuming woman most of the time. She cares about liking the things she does rather and other people approving of her actions. She's upfront about nearly everything in her life. Assertive nearly to the point of being aggressive, she rarely lets herself be taken advantage of by others. She has a hidden rage that can awaken in her when faced with her worst enemy: plants. Perhaps it was due to growing up near a forest and wildlife repeatedly overgrowing her home throughout childhood. Some chalk it up to her awful hay fever. Or maybe it was because she ate a few poisonous berries by accident and took that as an attack. Either way, Kathline hates plants and people with plant-based attributes with a burning passion. She even sees gardening as plants brainwashing humans into servitude. It's kinda ridiculous how much hate she has for plants. Kathline actually became a vegetarian at a young age to exact revenge against all plant life, killing them and using them as the fuel to drive more of her destruction.

Kathline works as a furniture maker. She constructs the frames and legs and other parts of furniture, usually out of wood. She utilizes her magic to make metal fixtures/fastenings on some of her works.

Kathline and Jack met as teens (Kathline was 16 and Jack was 19). Kathline's house became overgrown with plants, a common occurrence throughout her life, and so Kathline hired a Magic Knight to handle the situation. Jack was the knight to cut away all the plants. Kathline joyfully cheered on Jack's "massacre" of the plants. Jack was happy to hear someone appreciate his work. They saw each other again four years later when Jack ordered new furniture for the Green Mantis' base and Kathline was the one to deliver it. During the interaction, she talked of sadistically taking joy in turning the corpses of trees into tools for humans (like I said before, she's ridiculous). Jack continued ordering furniture from Kathline's workplace to keep seeing her. He found her vitriol amusing and Kathline appreciated Jack's own aggressive way of life. They slowly but surely fell in love. After the elf incident, they began to date. They eventually married. ... Only after Daniel was conceived and Kathline nearly killed Jack to get him to propose.

Kathline adores Daniel and Jill very much, and reminds them to take pride in themselves (which Jill does more successfully than Daniel). She's well known to the Green Mantis, especially to older Knights who seen her visiting since Jack became captain.

Charlotte and William have had the "pleasure" of meeting Kathline and both agree that they'd rather not spend more time with her than necessary. Being invited to Jack and Kathy's wedding gave them chills.

Daniel Cresswell

Daniel's name means "God is my judge" in Hebrew.

Age: 18

Birthday: April 27

Magic Attribute: Steel.

Appearance: Pitch black hair like his father which he keeps cut short and doesn't even bother trying to style it. His eyes are a deep green color, inherited from his mother.

Personality: Daniel is someone who is absolutely done with the world. As a little kid, he was peaceful and was one of those kids that just walked up to others in hopes of being friends. However, when other kids found out who his dad was, they called him "violent" and "crazy" which bothered Daniel. He tried to ignore them but eventually the bullying got to him and he lashed out. Playing into people's expectations despite not wanting to got to Daniel and he drew into himself. Despite his dislike of being judged, he's judgmental himself and tends to call out people he thinks are rude or dumb. Daniel can keep a level head in small groups; it's crowds make him irritable. Because of how he isolates himself, Daniel is bad with social cues and usually needs Jill's help when talking to people. Daniel is an avid reader as it allows him to escape reality. He's got a good imagination and can come up with scenarios off the top of his head. He usually does it to tell scary stories or what-if scenarios to make people worry. His habit for telling tales has also turned him into a good liar with only ki readers able to tell when he's making things up. Not the type to genuinely poke his nose into people's business, only to make snide remarks but it takes someone else dragging him along to disrupt what a person is doing.

He meets and befriends Saki through a book club. He's friendly with Aecor since Ace is so kind and understanding. They don't get many chances to meet though. He will mock Dawn's spirited nature or Caelum's chivalry but he accepts that they're good people. He understands Dusk and Silver not liking being around people but doesn't like how spineless they act. He's okay with Skylar and Soleil since they make Jill happy but if Skylar even thinks of flirting with Jill, Daniel will throw hands.

Drinks and smokes to pass the time despite finding the flavors of most alcohols and cigarettes offensive.

He refuses to be a Magic Knight on principle. Instead, he pursues a career in metal-working, specifically making figurines and decorative pieces from metal.

He did his own piercings (and it was very painful since he had no clue what he was doing).

He used to not care for literary analysis, more drawn to the way good writing got his imagination flowing and evoked strong emotions. The more he read though, the better he became at picking up writing devices and become deeply invested on theorizing on what happened in books before he finished.

Jill Cresswell

Her name means "child of the gods" or "youthful."

Age: 15

Birthday: February 7

Magic Attribute: Severing.

Appearance: Jill has mousy brown hair just like her mother. As a little girl, she kept her hair cut short but later decided to grow it out and tends to wear it in messy buns. Her eyes are yellow like her father's.

Personality: Jill is a mischief maker. She likes sneaking salt into people's water or tying doorknobs to stable fixtures so the doors can't be opened or sending letters in fancy envelopes only for the message inside to be insulting (or a spray of magic sneezing powder). The way Jill sees it, the world is naturally boring and she has to make it entertaining with her own two hands. If people are upset with her actions, it's their fault for being uninspired. She’s also daddy’s little girl and will go feral on someone’s ass if need be. Unlike Daniel who didn't want to be compared to his father, Jill wholeheartedly accepts it and challenges anyone who thinks they can shame her for her parentage. Her father is strong and so is Jill, and she's ready to prove it. Also, this girl can't be scared by anything. Jack laughs while Daniel wishes Jill "good luck and don't die" when she goes off to do something dangerous. Jill's big flaw is her desire to always challenge people. She thinks "competing against yourself" is a cop out and prefers getting the chance to outdo others.

Thanks to their shared love of pranking, Jill became friends with Skylar and Soleil. Ann and Raphael are basically Jill's rivals. She enjoys setting them off and seeing them try to stop the chaos she leaves in her wake. Has met most of the other Silva children and while she’s fine with most with a dislike towards Solid’s kids, she downright fears Aimee. That child is freakishly strong for her age and her anti-magic weapons are formidable.

Despite being so close with Jack, Jill ultimately doesn't follow in his footsteps. She tried being a Magic Knight for a few months but decided it wasn't for her. Instead, she becomes a hunter like her grandfather. Her on a hunting job is one of the few scenarios wherein she's calm.

Her favorite rhyme starts with “Jack and Jill went up the hill to beat up the weakling Black Bulls.” She brings it up more once Skylar joins the Black Bulls.

Girl hates her cowlicks. She has no idea why those few clumps of hair refuse to stay close to her scalp. She's considered cutting them but Daniel always stops her because he thinks they're cute.

#black clover #jack the ripper #black clover oc #kathline cresswell #jackline #next gen ocs #soda's ocs #daniel cresswell #jill cresswell #also yeah i'm not having the kids be called 'the ripper' #they're gonna have a sensible last name #also to whoever knows the joke behind daniel's name. i love you guys.

[menagerie-of-monsters]

Find the Word Game

Picked up an open tag from @cljordan-imperium

Tags for, hmm... @k--havok, @dogmomwrites, @nothwell, @leave-her-a-tome, @calicojackofficial, @space-cadead

Your words are: silent, star, stop, scar, surround

My words are: temper, magical, equal, brush, and leg

Temper

From Captured by the Fae Beast, which is cheating since it's published, but I love this passage too much to resist.

He opened his eyes again, looking at me with tension and unhappiness. "You may hear things—" "If anyone fucking dares to repeat anything they heard, I will punch them in their stupid fucking faces," I snarled back, cutting him off and unable to contain the white-hot rage in the face of that shame and devastation in Dain's expression. The force of that anger made it a little easier to comprehend why Dain had so brutally taken revenge on the two archers sent to kill us. If King Omahice had walked into the room at that moment, I would have been sorely tempted to go at him with one of Dain's many swords. He jerked back slightly, his eyes going wet and gleaming. "You… don't want to know?" he asked, his voice shaky. "Not like that." I tried to get my temper back under control, though I kept seething. "I want nothing from you that you don't want to give. If those Court of Mercy motherfuckers try, they will find out exactly how much of a match I am for the Beast of fucking Phazikai."

Magical

This one's from The Gardener and the Water-horse, which is in the last throes of editing :>

"'Flirt'?" he asked, as if he'd never heard the word before. Well, maybe he hadn't. He was a big damn lake in the middle of nowhere, and people probably didn't come and… talk to him. Maybe the sorcerers did, or worked with him, but Barixeor was abyssal, and that sat in direct opposition to water. And ordinary people like me mostly kept out of the way of dangerous magical creatures when we could. Like I'd be keeping away from this one, if he wasn't blocking access to my broken water pump with his naked body. "Um, you know, the sort of back-and-forth thing we're doing? With all the arch smiles on your part and mild exasperation on mine?" The water-horse looked puzzled, and I shook my head. "Human thing," I said, even though that wasn't at all true. Pretty much everyone flirted, if they were interested in such things. "It's a type of light banter that people do when they find each other attractive, I guess?"

Equal

A fun snippet from The Serpent's Bride, which I'm still dabbling at while I work on the Echoes of the Void and Monsters of Faery series.

Conflicting desires flooded me, making me freeze in place. Part of me - the part that had woken up under the impression that I was in my bed at home with a nameless lover - quickened from the feel of a man fitting himself to my body with obvious desire. The rest of me violently alternated between shock at having Talazen up against me like this, scrambling panic from the reality of the fact that at some point I was going to have to fuck a snake, and a blank sort of incomprehension of what sort of physical reality I was currently experiencing. Talazen made another low sound that sent equal parts interest and horror though me like the flights of arrows. His tongue lazily flicked out, sweeping across the skin of my chest, and the taste of my body's tumult finally woke him. The serpent prince went completely, eerily still, with the same perfect motionlessness of a viper lying in wait for prey. My heart hammered against my chest, and I realized I was holding my breath. I let it out shakily, then took another breath and said, "Good morning, Talazen."

Brush

Eyy, next-in-line book! This is from In the Claws of the Raven Prince, which is the next up in Monsters of Faery, and due to come out April 2023~

"Who was that ass?" I said, voicing my ire at the situation. "You'd think people would know better than to bait a manticore." Ayre spread his wings, stretching them, then snapped them closed and shook himself. "He's the only child of my father's only sibling, and thus theoretically fifth in line for the Raven Throne, as I am theoretically fourth." "Only theoretically?" I asked, patting my chest to invite Ayre to come lie on me. He did with a sigh, draping his lanky body across mine and nuzzling up against my neck, his slim fingers tangling with my hair. "The Courts respect primogeniture mostly by accident," he said, his lips brushing against my neck with tantalizing warmth. "The heir to the Court is the closest blood relative to the Monarch, but that need not be a child. Even if you have children, the heir may be a sibling, or someone to whom you've given your blood in a ritual."

Leg

And for a glimpse into the future, this is from Beneath the Dragon's Wings, which is book 3 in Monsters of Faery and thus will enter the world sometime around October 2023. Varistan, the half-dragon in question, is the ass mentioned above xD

I'd imagined he would be strange to look at, but he was no stranger than any other fae--less strange, even, because I didn't expect him to be human at some deep, animalistic level. Sprawled across the couch, clad in black, he was simply a man, sulking and well on his way to being completely wasted. But he was also a monster. One enormous black wing stuck up along the back of the couch, with the other hanging off it; they curled up at the bottom like a relaxed bat's, but the talons and scales couldn't be anything but a dragon's. Two long fingers and a thumb rested at the wrists of his wings, black-skinned and tipped with claws. His long tail draped off of the couch and across the coffee table, the thick blades of his spade relaxed. His legs belonged to a dragon in their shape, though he could stand upright like a man, and those powerful, taloned feet could surely gut a man. His face was all fae, save for the two horns arching over his head. His arms were more bulky and his chest broader and deeper than most fae, though—Because he flies, I thought as I examined him. The ruby eyes and maroon hair against his black coloration and clothing made him look like a villain out of a picture book. If someone had asked me to come up with an evil half-dragon, I might very well have made someone who looked exactly like him.

#tag game #find the word game #fantasy romance #fae romance #monster romance #captured by the fae beast #in the claws of the raven prince #monsters of faery #the serpent's bride #the blue kingdom #the gardener and the water-horse #echoes of the void #beneath the dragon's wings #snipperdoodle

[watching-pictures-move]

Movie Review | Vigilante (Lustig, 1982)

This review contains spoilers.

Given the premise, this obviously invites comparisons to the Death Wish series, and plays in some respects like a supercharged amalgamation of the first two. You get the hero's family being attacked by a multicultural gang with cute matching outfits, his wife being brutalized and his son being killed. This is a gruesome and horrific scene, but perhaps easier to watch than in those other movies because it seems less eager to revel in sexual assault. You get the hero, who was previously against vigilantism, eventually warming up to it after the law lets him down. We already know he's in for a bad trip when the DA, who's supposed to be prosecuting the case, basically admits defeat against the violent crime problem by citing a bunch of bullshit statistics. (To paraphrase a very wise man, you can come up with statistics to prove anything. Forty percent of all people know that.)

But it isn't just that the courts fail to sufficiently punish the gang member accused of the crimes against his family. Thanks to the smug liberal judge assigned to the case and the DA revealing her talent for being the world's worst negotiator, not only does the gang member get carted back to the streets after his murder charge is dropped and his assault charge gets a suspended sentence, but the hero gets thirty days for objecting to this gross miscarriage of justice. The depiction is so over the top that if you squint enough, you can read the movie as a satire of the vigilante thriller genre. Early on, the hero questions what would separate him from the bad guys if he started taking the law into his own hands and at one point he would go too far, and the movie practically answers that at the end by having him blow up the judge who bungled his case. It's almost as if the movie wants to demonstrate in the most extreme terms what it would look like if you took the vigilante ethos to its logical end point. To say the ending left me uneasy is to put it lightly, but it's undeniably forceful.

This is a better movie than Death Wish and its sequels (full disclosure: I haven't seen the fifth) because William Lustig is a much better director than Michael Winner, and for whatever questionable ideas the movie pushes or interrogates about its subject matter, it treats the proceedings with a dramatic sensitivity mostly absent from the other series after the original. It helps that Lustig is working with a tremendous cast, with an effortlessly sympathetic and wounded Robert Forster in the lead, and supporting players like Fred Williamson and Woody Strode lending charismatic voices to the movie's ideas. But most fun is Joe Spinell as a sleazy lawyer, who is known for playing deranged, sweaty maniacs but is also entertaining when playing slimy fast talkers, and who steals the movie in his couple of scenes as he maneuvers to get his defendant off lightly while threatening him with "Legal Aid" when the gang tries to stiff him on his fee.

And the gulf is wide on a technical level too. Winner is the furthest thing from a polished craftsman, although the crudeness of Death Wish 3 does give it a nicely unhinged quality, the action contained within playing as a series of pure violent reflexes, one goon killed after another in the cinematic equivalent of a nervous twitch. But while Lustig sets his movie in a crumbling pre-cleanup New York, he gives it a palpable sense of mood as she shoots it in chilly blue widescreen cinematography and scores it with grimy synths to boot. And the grim, two-fisted violence is lent an added charge by the surprisingly elegant cutting, closeups of a cracked family photo frame after the attack on Forster's family, and closeups to Forster's scowling face as he metes out his revenge.

I'd been itching for a rewatch since I missed the chance to see it in theatres a few months ago (a combination of dreadful winter weather and having fallen ill at an inopportune time), and was very pleased to revisit it and find that it rocks even harder than I remembered.

#film #movie review #vigilante #william lustig

[multifandomrandomgirl]

The Ropes That Bind Us - Peter Tork x Female!reader PART THREE

Trigger warning - mentions of rape

Masterlist

taglist: @strawberry-sunset-skies

Peter and Y/N had spent hours upon hours talking to each other about anything and everything they could think of. Peter had spent time telling her about when he’d been a folk singer in the Village, and in return, Y/N told him about the time she’d been hired as a singer for weddings and had spent about a year or two doing that to make a living, she had only stopped because she’d been kidnapped.

Eventually, the pair must have drifted off to sleep because the next thing Peter remembered was being jolted awake by an ear piercing scream. It was definitely Y/N’s scream, Peter was too scared to say anything as he heard footsteps creep back up the stairs, along with a gruff male voice.

“You try anything like that again, and the punishment will be much worse, I assure you now, you slut.” The door slammed and silence filled the room, only briefly though as Peter could hear the soft sound of his roommate crying from the other corner. 

“Y/N?” Peter called out timidly, he was trying to loosen his ropes so that he could get to the girl who was now violently sobbing. “Y/N, please talk to me.” Peter tried to not let the fear in his voice break through, he didn’t want to upset her or show her that he was scared.

“H-he, h-hurt.” Y/N chokes out, Peter wasn’t sure where she was going with the sentence, but the word ‘hurt’ was more than enough to make him angry, sure, he didn’t know Y/N all that well, but he hated it when people got hurt, and he knew that whatever it was, Y/N definitely didn’t deserve it.

“He hurt you?” Peter gently pushed, he wasn’t sure if he wanted to know the whole story, he certainly didn’t want to if it meant Y/N would get more upset, but at the same time, he wanted to know so that he could try and protect her. Try was the key word, he wasn’t sure as to how much he could do whilst bound to a chair.

“He-yes. I-i tried to get us out of h-here last n-night. I b-broke f-free from my r-ropes and t-tried to untie y-yours when he came d-down to check on us and h-he caught me and he spent all n-night h-hurting me. He hit me, he k-kicked me, and he used a lot of physical abuse. T-then, he, he.” Y/N’s sobs became more rapid, her breathing was loud and choked. “He r-raped me, he wouldn’t stop.” She whispered the last bit. 

Peter’s blood boiled, he was past being angry now, he was absolutely furious. He was in a situation where he wished he was Michael, capable of hurting people with his words (and an added bit of violence where needed). Peter no longer cared about the fact he’d been kidnapped, he wanted too find their captor and hurt him, he really wanted to hurt him. Y/N didn’t deserve this and Peter wanted to get revenge. God, he really really wished he was Michael in this moment.

“Oh Y/N, I’m sorry. That bastard, that fucking bastard. As soon as I can get my hands on him, I swear down he is dead, I will fucking throttle him. Y/N, please, you deserve so much better and he will pay for what he did to you. I don’t have enough words in my vocabulary to even begin to describe how angry at him I am. I really wish I could give you a hug right now, I know it isn’t a lot, but a hug would help a little. I want you to know it’s okay, fuck, it isn’t, we’re stuck here still. I really don’t know what else to say, I’m so sorry. I wanted to comfort you and I’ve messed that one up-” Peter was cut off by an object lightly tapping him on the foot. It was Y/N’s foot.

“Thank you P-peter. I really appreciate it. You’ve made me feel better, truly. I wish I could hug you, you seem to need it as well. But really, Peter, you’ve made me feel a lot better. I’m glad that it’s you here. You’re making this a lot better for me, you make me feel a lot more safe.” Peter could almost hear the smile in Y/N’s words.

“You mean it? Usually, when I try to make people feel better, I get told off because I always say the wrong things.” Peter looked at his knees, or rather, the outline of his knees in the dark. “But, I feel so safe knowing you’re here. I was scared of being alone again, but knowing you’re here is comforting. I just hope my bandmates find us soon.” He sighs.

“Peter?” Y/N asks. “If you don’t mind me asking- wait, no, never mind.” Y/N stopped herself, she wanted to question why Peter was so hopeful that his bandmates would find him soon, he sounded so certain that they’d find him and save him. She’d given up hope of being saved ags ago, she had never really thought anyone would try and find her, and now she really knew that to be true after three years of being held hostage. Peter had been here a day, she knew that soon his hope would be shattered, but she decided to stop herself from saying anything, he was like a golden retriever, he didn’t think anything could go bad, he always thought he would be saved by the sounds of it. Y/N didn’t want to upset or scare the poor boy.

“What is it?” Peter pushed, he wasn’t actually sure what she wanted to ask, but he didn’t think it could be anything bad.

“I was going to ask, what is your favourite animal?” Y/N lied, she didn’t want to hurt him.

“You want me to pick one? That’s so hard! I love them all, I can’t choose! Maybe a tiger! They just look so cuddly, I know it’d hurt me, but I really want to hug one.” Y/N smiled at the man’s reply, he was adorable. Although she had a rough idea of what he looked like from his brief description, she could only imagine how adorable he must be really, she imagined he was really cute. Y/N really wished she could see his face.

“Nice choice!” Y/N grinned into the darkness. “They are cute! I think my favourite would be a capybara, they also look really cuddly, and they might not hurt me as much. Although I do really like rhinos, I would like to hug one of those too.” Y/N said, causing Peter to giggle.

Shit. Y/N thought. Am I falling for him? Why is he causing me to feel like this?

#michael nesmith #davy jones #peter tork #micky dolenz #the monkees #peter tork is so adorable omfg #i love him so much #monkees #monkeemobile #i want to cry bc peter tork is a sweet gorgeous baba

[megashadowdragon]

thor the broken god

youtube comments

Just a note: Sif absolutely does blame Odin, not Atreus, for the troubles their family has had in that scene. She first says that Odin isn’t protecting them. Then she points out that Magni and Modi were “Thrown at the All-Father’s problems like brittle knives to a mountain face.” The wording here is very important. It does not sound like she is blaming the mountain face (or the trouble makers) in this analogy, she is blaming the person who threw her sons at those problems (which would be Odin). It’s actually Thor who is so unwilling to place blame on and go after Odin that he turns on Atreus instead. Additionally, there’s an optional “cutscene” where you can listen in on a conversation between Sif and Thor earlier where she more clearly says that Odin is the cause of their problems and asks Thor “When are you going to stand up to him?” Edit: this is also reinforced by Thor’s line in the final battle to Odin “Sif was right about you, I just didn’t want to see it”Show less

I think there's one thing that might be overlooked in the initial fight against Thor. I think sure, there is some elements of him just wanting to cut loose and fight, but I get the sense it's much more about his sons, and not necessarily in the sense of getting revenge for them. Odin's line "Death is what we Aesir live for", like every manipulation he uses, has a ring of truth: Thor isn't REALLY angry that his sons died, he's more angry with himself for failing them. He wants proof that they died worthy deaths, not that they went out like weak "useless" losers (like Odin says). In pushing Kratos to reveal himself, Thor gets to see Kratos' strength, sees the god that his sons fell to in glorious battle...and he's satisfied, in a way. Yes, they died, but they died fighting in a battle that most people or even Aesir could only dream of: a fight against the god-killer from another land, that would eventually go on to kill Odin himself.Show less

And it's only when Sif reminds him how they were as children does he seem to to focus on the fact that they died rather than how they died. Unfortunately this leads him to focus on Atreus rather than Odin who Sif was trying to get him to target his anger at.

Or there could be another option. "You are a destroyer, like me", remember? Perhaps what Thor was seeking is a vindication of his belief that he cannot change. That even if he were to walk away into another realm entirely, he would still have "monster inside" that he wanted Kratos to show him.

I also think Thor wanted Kratos to stop holding back because he knows how Kratos has changed for the better and I think it shook him between the games. After all if Kratos can change then why can’t Thor. He’d have to finally confront the fact that Odin, his own father, is the one who has kept him from leaving behind his worst qualities. Not to mention is also to blame for sending his sons on a mission that killed them. So in this fight he tries to get Kratos to lose it because if Kratos still has that beast in him then Thor can be content in believing “Yep the monster’s still within him, you can’t change who you are so there’s no point in trying. Don’t think too much about what’s happening and just accept things for what they are. It’s easier that way.”Show less

What's fascinating to me is how Thor seems to feel a sort of kinship with Kratos. "We are destroyers," he tells him. He sees a reflection of himself in Kratos. Nobody else was able to get through to Thor. Atreus came the closest, but Thor just fell back under Odin's thumb. But Kratos? The god with what is probably the most violent past out of anyone else in the story? If Kratos looks Thor in the eyes, makes the choice to be nonviolent, and tells Thor to do the same... what excuse does Thor have not to change?Show less

Notice Thor's body language when Thrud says to him "We love you. You know that." You can almost hear him think "I don't deserve you." That hit super hard.

Odin saying : "I did not want this." as he kills Thor was genuenly the most disturbing moment in the whole game tbh It echoes the textbook excuse all manipulators and abusers use when they realise they can't use someone anymore and they get violent to put them in " their place" , that being: "Why did you make me do this?" And the fact that Odin then starts shifting the blame on Kratos and Atreus just seals it.

Its especially striking that this is how Odin treated the son of the giantess that was his one true love. Unlike Baldur or Heimdall, there was no political angle to his conception. Yet he treats him worse than the mad hound (Baldur) or the watchdog (Heimdall). He sees Thor like an ox, fit only to pull a plow where the farmer tell him, until its back inevitably breaks. Even amongst the rotten way Odin dehumanizes his family, the way he behaves towards Thor stands out as the most toxic.

Pretty sure Mimir has a few lines of idle chatter on this, basically Thor's birth killed his mother, and since Odin is a selfish prick, Thor isnt reall a son to him, its the thing that took his love from him.

It is implied by one of the Lore Markers that Thor was somehow responsible for Fjörgyn's death, as it mentions that her body shall be borne to "where nevermore the Thunder may find her". In addition, the same Marker says that "for her gift of life, her life was claimed", further supporting this suggestion.

God, Odin's got the emotional maturity of a preteen. Yes, his grief for his dead wife should be honored, but directing it towards a baby, HIS OWN BABY, for something no one could really control? Like, why does anyone need to be blamed for this? Can't it just be a sad thing, and can't he just let himself mourn? But, no, he can't let his emotions get the better of him, that would mean he's not in control. Gotta bottle that shit up, make his own son deal with it his whole life so he can keep being the center of the nine realms.

It's been said before and it'll be said again for years: Odin is a monster

You know, he's the god of the gibbet, and berserkers too, right? To honor him hang nine men on an oak tree, the blood eagle ritual is for him. Wotan, or Odin after his retconning, is on brand with this take and the thing about gods is that they don't change.

This was also incorporated in the game with the ravens: They are the corrupted souls of children that were hung by their parents to honor Odin

I forgot about that that is messed up 10 ways to Wednesday

Oh he's underselling it, the way they were made is like if you surgically altered someone to be a dog in shape and function, those kids souls were carved into the shape they are now, permanently.

great, it’s even worse

What gets me is the way Odin kills Thor IMMEDIATELY, no questioning, no attempt at changing his mind. In Odin's mind, if Thor can even utter the word "no", then he's already a lost cause and must be put out of his misery. Look what you made me do.

You misread sif, she knows very well that Odin is the problem, she might be afraid of Atreus and Kratos but she correctly identifies the real problem. It's thor who misplaces his judgement and goes after Atreus

The scene where Thor is drunk and sitting outside talking to Thrud? That hit hard. That's exactly how my family talks to me and I relate so much to Thor in that position.Hearing how you can do better, hearing from your loved ones that they KNOW you can do better, but how do you believe it yourself? It just makes you seem selfish as if you're not looking out for your loved ones and how your actions, affect them, and then you choose the weak side of giving in to the sadness and starting the drinking cycle all over again. Super depressing, but yeah they portrayed alcoholism really well and I love Thor's character. Really wish we couldv'e got more development on Sif like you mentioned though, and her relationship with Thor. Would've been so interesting! But I understand why they need to cut down on certain aspects of the game in order to not make it too long.Show less

Man, that "Are you broken?!" line is so absolutely nuts. Odin says it with this level of sincerity and obvious malice that you don't know whether he's seriously asking or if he's just messing with Thor's head again. Or both. Can you imagine speaking like that to another human being? The level of inhumanity and psychopathic mentality Odin has is insane.

Another subtle thing that goes to show just how abusive and controlling Odin in to Thor is in that very same scene with the two of them and Atreus after returning with the repaired mask. Odin is jovial and welcoming to Atreus because he accomplished the task he set him out to do, saying self-congratulatory things like "See, don't we make a great team?" But then Thor decides to take a small shot at his father by saying "Just like you and Baldur?" Thor questioned Odin's leadership and judgement, if ever so briefly. That single act of mild-defiance instantly turned Odin's mood sour, more businesslike. Cold. Gone is the good-natured man who was basking in the glory of success, replaced by the abusive, condescending manipulator who insults Thor, scoffing at the notion he could have taught Atreus anything of value. The second Thor showed signs of individuality, of attempting to stand up for himself, Odin immediately had to shoot it down in order to maintain control.Show less

I also saw personally that thor implicitly regrets his actions with killing the giants. He keeps reminding himself what he has done to them throughout the game always try to reaffirm his thoughts on actions on being a destroyer. As if it was a cry for help or even more a cry for somebody to finally put him down, but preferably in a hell of a fight cause that what he deserves in his own mind.

I think the most interesting relationship Thor has is with his sons. The way Magni and Modi function alongside each other makes it seem like a classic "golden child" situation, and Thor's own relationship with his father and how toxic parenting can be a cycle tracks, but the way he and Sif reminisce about them doesn't. They talk about them like they were little angels, and when Thor confronts Atreus he says "Modi may have had some problems but he was my son." I think how Odin treated him as a tool warped him so much that when his son tells him of his eldest's death, he reacts like the belligerent drunk Odin conditioned him to be. Magni thirsted for a challenging fight because he got it from his father. Modi desperately wanted Thor's validation, much like Thor did with Odin. Thor likely treated him so poorly because he was such a visceral reminder of his own failings, even looking most like him. Beating Modi might have even been a way at lashing out at the parts of himself he hated the most. Despite his own flaws Thor genuinely loved both his sons, but his inability to grow from Odin's abuse allowed the qualities forced onto him to permeate onto them. It's only after they die he begins to better himself with traits that unfortunately could have bettered the lives of his sons, if only he'd begun to improve sooner.Show less

Odin saying : "I did not want this." as he kills Thor was genuenly the most disturbing moment in the whole game tbh It echoes the textbook excuse all manipulators and abusers use when they realise they can't use someone anymore and they get violent to put them in " their place" , that being: "Why did you make me do this?"

something I just caught.. the "could have told me before I poured" thats because he didnt pour a glass for himself. First was for Kratos, the second for Atreus (hence why he hesitated, wondering for a moment if he was old enough and how much drink he would be able to handle) kratos not letting him serve Atreus means he now has to take one of the glasses for himself, which he would rather have avoided. originally i thought he did pour for himself (if only as proof that he wasnt serving poison), but its a real nice touch that in fact, he didnt.Show less

What gets me is the way Odin kills Thor IMMEDIATELY, no questioning, no attempt at changing his mind. In Odin's mind, if Thor can even utter the word "no", then he's already a lost cause and must be put out of his misery. Look what you made me do.

#god of war ragnarok #gow ragnarok #gow thor #god of war ragnarok spoilers

[hey-its-jacob-lol]

JacobLOL Presents: Arthur and The Phantom Thieves!

Chapter 2: The Secrets and Shadows from Under The Underground  

It wasn’t too long before somebody found Asriel and rushed him to The Dreemurr Castle with urgency. When Chara and her other family members saw the condition Asriel was in, Chara was by far the most enraged. Asriel was her best friend and brother. She was NOT going to let this stand! In all honesty, it was a damn miracle that Asriel had no long-lasting injuries or effects from the beatdown. Still, Asriel looked terrible, like he’d been in a vicious car accident. His face and left cheek were all swollen, he was heavily bruised, had a black eye, and cuts all around his face! Chara was livid. “That PEST!” Chara growled under her breath before she walked out of Asriel’s room.

Chara walked down the colourless and dim hallway, all while Frisk, the younger adopted sister, tried to catch up to her. Chara would then put her hand directly in front of Frisk's face as she approached her. It was almost like she didn’t want to hear what Frisk had to say. “Leave it, Frisk. You’re not stopping me.” Chara muttered. “No, I’m sorry, Chara, but I can't do that. I’ve seen this all before.” Frisk uttered as she grabbed Chara’s left arm.  “All it takes is one little thing to send you into a violent rage!” Frisk retorted back. Chara turned to face Frisk. “Well, he’s certainly earned it this time!” Chara retorted back herself as she pulled her arm out of Frisk’s grasp. “Chara, there are better ways than violence,” Frisk argued back, in a much softer tone. “What? Just like how Nadine says there are better ways to deal with my problems than booze?” Chara asked, in a rather sarcastic way. Frisk didn’t respond as her eyes dropped to the floor. 

“Sometimes fighting back is the only way. I’m not surprised you don’t get it. You’ve never been through what I have…” Chara muttered back. “But Chara, you might kill him!” Frisk yelled back in distress. “Then he should have left when I gave him the opportunity to leave…” Chara muttered before she sighed. “Look at Asriel, Frisk. He did that, and for what?!” Chara asked. “This guy has probably never even been in a real fight before. I mean, does he really look like a fighter to you?” Chara asked in a more serious tone. No, he’s just a scared little kid acting like a big man. He’s not tough. Hell, he probably ambushed Asriel when he wasn’t looking. Asriel would’ve wiped the floor with him if he REALLY wanted to. The only thing holding him back was his compassion.” Chara explained. “That guy is going to pay for what he’s done. If I kill him, I kill him. If he survives, he better leave and never comes back, or I’ll be back, and I’ll finish the job.” Chara explained further. “You know for a damn fact nobody will like this. Let Dad deal with him.” Frisk uttered back. “No, this is my responsibility, and this is my mission. Nobody else’s… Asriel brought me into this family when he didn’t have to. He could’ve and really should’ve eaten me or just left me for dead. Yet, he didn’t, nor did Asgore and Toriel. I got the family I never knew I wanted. I mean, I was abused by a drunken idiot who dared try to get me to call him dad. The dude wasn’t even my biological dad either. The dude was an utter coward, whereas I’m not. That’s why my disdain for evil people like that exists. Evil humans, rotten evil people like that were all I knew. Not now, obviously, because I have you, but…” Chara paused, as a tear fell out of her eye. “Chara?” Frisk mumbled. Chara got onto a knee and put both hands on Frisk’s shoulders before she gave Frisk a big hug. Chara then rose back up onto her feet and walked out of the castle.

So, why this conflict? Shouldn’t Frisk also want revenge for her brother? Well, that’s the thing, Frisk was a pacifist. She didn’t necessarily believe in violence or rather any form of fighting. She would rather talk her way out of things. Chara on the other hand, was BUILT on violence and disharmony, due to a certain someone’s actions… Chara (as she just explained) had a rather tragic childhood before she became a part of The Dreemurr Family and even then, she wasn’t really magically healed from her trauma. It still stuck with her, even after all these years later…

Chara began to walk throughout Mt Ebott, as she tried to look for Arthur, but first, she had to make a stop somewhere. Chara would end up arriving at Undyne’s NEW and exciting training grounds where Undyne was “training the next generation of Royal Guards!” “Ah, Princess Chara! What brings YOU here today?” Undyne greeted Chara as she got on one knee and bowed her head. “Get up Undyne, why do I have to keep telling you, you don’t have to bow down every time you see me.” Chara moaned. “My apologies, Your Highness. It’s just politeness and code to the royal family.” Undyne replied. “Well, it ain’t my code, so stop. Anyway, I’m here to see one of your students, Dora-Winifred Read.” Chara explained. “Get her for me, would you?” Chara ordered. “Undyne complied, “Yes, you’re Highness,” replied Undyne, before she raced off to go and get DW.

Around 5 minutes later, Undyne returned along with DW. DW gasped. It seemed she didn't actually expect Chara to be there. “Gosh dang it, I thought it was a trick!” DW bellowed before she put her head in her hands while Chara and Undyne laughed. “Unbelively DW, this ain’t the first time somebody’s said that when greeting me,” Chara replied. “Well, that’s reassuring… So, uh…" Why did you wanna see me?” DW asked. Chara would then get on one knee. “To say thank you,” Chara uttered. “Thank you for allowing Nadine to help me. I know it sounds cheesy and yes, it very much is and I know that we probably haven't had the same connection as she had with you, but I appreciate you giving me an extra hand to hold on to during my times in need. Naddie ain’t perfect. She can be annoying and persistent, but I can see that she wants to help me, and that help wouldn’t have come if it wasn’t for you. So, thank you.” Chara explained. DW chuckled. “It was more than just me, you know? Asriel and JacobLOL were in on the talk, too. Plus, I got my own benefits out of it.” DW replied, with her iconic smug grin. 

“You weren’t the only one,” Chara replied back. “I feel like with you here, I should probably say this. My parents have officially filed for the adoption papers for Nadine. She’s now going to be an official member of our family!” Chara announced. “Adoption? What’s that mean?” DW asked. Suddenly, glitter and pixie dust would surround Chara, DW, and Undyne before Nadine appeared in a bright light as she floated above them. “Think of adoption as like, someone making somebody a part of their family. Choosing to look after them and such.” Nadine explained. “Well, there’s a bit more that goes into it than just that, but yes, that is a rather basic understanding of it,” Chara replied. “Wait, if Nadine’s going to be in your family… Does that make her a princess?” DW asked. Chara nodded, and DW gasped as her eyes lit up, and a smile spread across her face. DW screamed with excitement as Nadine floated down and gave DW a big hug. “MY SISTER’S OFFICIALLY A PRINCESS!!” DW screamed as she jumped up and down. DW looked back at Undyne, who had a smug grin and a raised eyebrow on her face. “Of course!” DW gasped as if she had just remembered something. DW got on one knee and bowed her head. “Congratulations, Your Highness,” DW uttered. Nadine smiled. “Thanks, DW,” Nadine replied. “I guess I’ll let you both celebrate the occasion,” Chara uttered before she got up and was ready to leave. “You're not staying to celebrate too, your highness?” Undyne asked. “No, I have some business I need to take care of, unfortunately,” Chara replied before she left with a cold and expressionless face.

After a few hours of searching, Arthur was nowhere to be found. It didn’t make sense. She had searched everywhere! There was nowhere else to look, right? Then, something came back into Chara’s mind, The Ruins! Chara then made a mad dash to the entrance of Snowdin, opened the huge door, and ran inside. She ran through the narrow hallway and ran up the stars to go into Toriel’s old cottage. Chara then stopped in her tracks and slowly looked around the cottage. Nothing in the kitchen, nothing in the living room. Chara then looked outside a window, but again, nothing. Then Chara looked in the corridor, and she checked through each room to still find nothing. Then she checked in what would’ve been Frisk’s room if Frisk had stayed with Toriel in the beginning, and again nothing… Then suddenly, Chara was ambushed and attacked with a weapon! She collapsed to the ground and fell unconscious, not even getting as much as a glimpse of the attacker.

When Chara regained consciousness, she found herself tied up to a steel chair and under a bright light. As Chara got her bearings together and examined her surroundings, a shadow emerged from the darkness to reveal Arthur with a steel chair of his own. Chara’s eyes were now filled with rage and anger, as a drop of black ooze fell from her mouth, unknowingly to Arthur. Arthur sat directly in front of Chara, and both parties started into each other's souls. “You bastard!” Chara yelled as she struggled to free herself. Arthur didn’t move at all. “Release me at once, or I’ll tear apart your flesh!” Chara ordered with fire in her eyes. “Even if I wanted to, I couldn’t. You’re too much of a threat to be left running around without a collar.” Arthur replied. Chara growled before she once again struggled to try and get herself free, but couldn’t. “I will END YOU for what you did to Asriel!!” Chara screamed, all while Arthur frowned. “Hey, it wasn’t what I wanted. He swung first, and I had to protect myself and have a backup plan.” Arthur replied. “Then why ambush me?” Chara asked as she gritted her teeth. “Because, you’re quite the scary one, Princess Chara. You supposedly have a history of violence and a rumoured fascination with knives. I just had to be sorta careful when asking. Don’t worry, I’m sure there are no long-term injuries. At least, I hope so.” Arthur explained. Chara was now getting rather impatient. “Look, what do you want from me?!” Chara demanded. “It should be me asking that question, not you.” Arthur reminded Chara. “You were the one who wanted to try to find me, and here I am!” Arthur explained, as he raised his arms slightly and as he sounded almost like his old joyous self.

“Asriel’s potentially in a coma right now, or he’s unconscious. It’s honestly rather hard to tell at this moment.” Chara muttered. “He’ll be fine, I didn’t beat him to the brink of death… “Arthur replied, almost in his old, joyous way again, before slipping back into The Ruthless Heart persona almost instantly “You, on the other hand, have beaten people close to the brink of death. Not just humans, or others on the outside, but here within Mt Ebott, too. Why?” Arthur asked before he leaned forward. “Pfft, like I’m gonna explain anything to you,” Chara replied. “Alright then, don’t. That still won’t stop me from finding out what you’re hiding.” Arthur retorted. Chara scoffed, “What could you possibly want to know?” asked Chara “Well first, I’d love to know why this place has the reputation it does, I wanna know why you are the way you are, and I wanna know what The King is hiding from his people.” Arthur explained. 

Chara began to laugh. It started out small but grew into something bigger and more chaotic and menacing. The black ooze was now pouring out of her mouth “You’ll never find those answers, Arthur! You’ll end up with a slit throat before you even get a sneak peek at what we have to hide!” Chara growled. Arthur put up a finger and pointed it at Chara. “Don’t tempt me to keep digging. You won’t like me with my back against the wall.” Arthur warned. Chara spat in Arthur’s face. “Or what? You can’t fight!” Chara yelled back. “I’m here to protect, not destroy!” Arthur exclaimed. Chara almost laughed at his absurdity. “Tell THAT to the goat you put unconscious!” Chara screamed back. Arthur placed his left arm on some form of desk and looked back at Chara. “You think I wanted to do that?” Arthur asked. “My target was you and only you. Heck, I don’t even consider your father a target, at least not yet…” Arthur muttered. “Yet, you’ve clearly got your eye on him, so that automatically makes him a target.” Chara grumbled back.

Arthur glanced back. “I doubt you’d even understand yourself. All you probably care about is giving others pain, but for what? What do you gain over these acts?” Arthur asked. Chara gave Arthur a stare that resembled death. Chara was now beginning to grow tired of these riddles and questions until an idea popped into her head. “One bite…” Chara muttered under her breath. “That’s all I really need…” Arthur didn’t hear what Chara said. “Huh?” he replied in utter confusion. Chara rolled her eyes with a smile before she chewed and ripped her way out of the ropes, spreading black ooze everywhere! Chara then stood up with a rather evil smile on her face. “Ohohohohohoho! You’re dead now, son.” Chara uttered as the evil smile spread across Chara’s face. Arthur was shocked by what had just happened! He then frantically searched for his crutch and found it, but so did Chara! Then the two had almost something of a tug of war over the crutch, which Chara would eventually win with her being the stronger of the two. Chara threw the crutch away before she picked up a hammer and began to stalk Arthur, like a predator stalking its prey. “Maybe next time, don’t indulge in too much chocolate cake, Arthur! Oh wait, there WON’T be a NEXT time!” Chara yelled, before she smashed Arthur into a bloody mess, swinging the hammer in his face over and over again, but just before she could deal with her final blow, Frisk ran in and grabbed Chara’s arm! “Stop!!” Frisk yelled. Chara and Frisk then got into rather an intense staredown that lasted for a few seconds. “Nadine, NOW!” Frisk yelled before Nadine jumped from above and put her arms around both Frisk and Chara, then Nadine used her magic to teleport herself, Frisk and Chara away from the scene. Leaving a bloody and battered Arthur.  

A few minutes after this, Chara and Frisk were arguing inside the castle, which was quite intense… “WHAT WAS THAT?!” Frisk screamed as she shook Chara like a doll. “Why in god’s name are you so shocked?” Chara muttered. “Because we’re not trying to kill anybody this time around, okay?” Frisk yelled back. Chara then stared into Frisk’s eyes. “Frisk. We've done this so many times now, I’ve lost count.” Chara muttered back. Frisk glanced to the floor, then backed up. “Shut up!” Frisk muttered. “How about no?” suggested Chara, as a slight chuckle could be heard from Chara shortly after saying that sentence. “Everybody has their theories on me, but let’s not pretend it wasn’t you who drove me into madness once again. You may have shown me that not all humans are selfish and abusive sods, but you, too, are responsible for my now permanent dip in madness.” Chara reminded Frisk. “Not to mention, there was at least some form of receipt coming for that guy. He did go after my brother after all.” Chara muttered. 

“Speaking of which, did he tell you anything?” Frisk asked, rather curious. “Arthur? No. It’s something I’ve heard all before. Heck, not just me, but you too…” Chara uttered back, as she tried her best to play it cool. “Hey, as long as he stops his little investigation and goes away, he’ll be fine. I won’t kill him. That was just to send a message. A REAL MESSAGE.” Chara replied. This didn’t please, Frisk. “So I got a little carried away. He’s alive, isn’t he?” Chara grumbled. “I guess so… This is just… It’s a lot happening in such a small amount of time.” Frisk replied. “Hey, you’re telling me. You know how weird it was to move to one day be with an abusive human, only to suddenly then be thrusted in with a family of goats?” Chara asked in a sarcastic manner. “I totally get the second part.” Frisk replied as she pointed at a picture of The Dreemurr Family. “See? We’re really not that different.” Chara uttered back with a smile. “I mean… I guess so, but no more violent acts, got it?” Frisk ordered. “Fine, okay. I guess I at least owe you that.” Chara replied, complying with Frisk’s request. “I’m serious, Chara! No more! This doesn’t change that I’m angry with you!” Frisk exclaimed back. “Yeah, yeah, yeah, I hear you.” Chara replied, as her eyes darted in another direction. “Do you really, though?” Frisk asked. Chara yawned before she answered. “Yeah…” Chara muttered. Frisk sighed before she stared at the wooden floorboards. “I sure hope so.” Frisk thought to herself. 

“I sure hope so too.” said a familiar voice inside Frisk’s head. “Huh?” Frisk looked around confused. “Nadine?” Frisk uttered. “Wh-where are you?” Frisk asked. “Well, I’m inside your head.” Frisk was surprised by this. “H-How?! You’re supposed to be helping Chara, not me!” Frisk exclaimed. “Because you and Chara share the same soul. That’s how she’s even alive today in the first place. It’s through that connection that allows me to speak to both of you like this.” Nadine explained. “Oh, and Frisk, don’t worry about me only being allowed to help Chara. My duties don’t have to be just for one person. I can help you too, if you so need it.” Nadine explained. “Wait, is it through that connection that allows me to actually see and talk to you?” Frisk asked. “That could be the case, but it could also be through belief, too. If you truly believe I’m there, then I’m there.” Nadine explained further. “Well, I think I will then. After all, you are a part of our family now. It’d feel foolish if that wasn’t the case. We just need to figure out how to get around this Arthur problem.” Frisk explained. “I think we might need someone who knows their ways with words to help us here.” Nadine suggested. Frisk smiled. “I think I might know somebody!” Frisk replied before she ran down the hallway.

The following day, Arthur was once again back in the warehouse. As he checked through his notes, he heard a knock on the shutters. He opened them to find Toriel Dreemurr standing at the entrance. “Mrs. Dreemurr.” Arthur uttered as he looked up at the much taller woman. “Hello Arthur.” Toriel replied. The staredown that followed was slightly intense. “What do you want exactly?” Arthur asked. “We need to talk.” Toriel replied before she entered the warehouse. “I assume this will be about Asriel?” Arthur asked as he sat back down on his chair next to his desk. “More than just that.” Toriel replied as she sat on another chair. “Well, before we begin, I’d like to give you something.” Arthur uttered as he went to grab something out of a drawer. It was a bottle full of medication. “It’s for Asriel. I wish him a speedy recovery.” Arthur explained before he gave Toriel the medicine. Toriel was a bit taken aback by this but accepted the medicine. Arthur sighed. “I didn’t want to do it, y’know? He backed me into a corner, threatened me, and tried to kill me! I had to defend myself.” Arthur explained. “Asriel would never-” Toriel yelled before she stopped and sighed as a reminder resurfaced in her mind. “I… I know exactly what you’re talking about. You’re talking about Flowey there.” Toriel explained. Arthur was puzzled by the new name. “Flowey?” Arthur uttered. “Even I’m not sure what he is. He’s either an alternate personality within my son or another being inside him.” Toriel uttered back. “So, it’s multiple personality disorder?” Arthur suggested. Toriel sighed. “I’d imagine so…” Toriel muttered back before she laughed. “Ahh, who am I kidding? You don’t want to hear some old lady ramble about the past.” Toriel uttered before a slight chuckle could be heard.  

“Actually, that’s exactly what I want to hear you ramble about.” Arthur replied, which surprised Toriel. “You see, I’m here because of the rumours.” Arthur explained. “It’s led me to actually coming here, and it’s also led me to do some investigating on this place…” Arthur’s head tilted upwards to look at the ceiling. “I must say though… I find it rather impressive that you were able to build a civilization under this mountain. It must have taken a ton of work, surely.” Arthur suggested. “It was built by the monsters that existed generations before us, I wouldn’t happen to know what it was like.” Toriel explained. “Everybody’s a part of history, I suppose, and so are they.” Arthur replied. “I suppose so.” Toriel uttered before she changed the subject. “Now, about those rumours…" What have you heard?” Toriel asked. “It’s not what I’ve heard… It’s what I’ve read.” Arthur responded as he pointed towards Toriel. Toriel started to get nervous. “It’s pretty much about one person, too.” Arthur elaborated further as he stood up and began to circle around Toriel. Arthur stopped in place, right in front of Torel. “It’s about King Asgore. Your ex-husband, I presume?” Arthur asked as he glared into Toriel’s eyes. Toriel sighed. It was now beginning to become perfectly clear over what these certain “rumours” were. “I see.” Toriel whispered. “Master Arthur, it would appear you are beginning to piece information together that I wished to never speak of again. Please take a seat. This story is a long one.” Toriel uttered. Arthur complied, and Toriel began her story…

“It all started long ago, where Monsters and Humans were very much alike…” Toriel began to discuss her story with Asgore. From their days as children, to them eventually dating, their marriage and then up to Asriel’s birth. “He was quite small when he was actually born. Asgore could literally hold him in one hand! Although his hands are rather larger than the average man, I presume.” Toriel chuckled to herself. “It wasn’t until after a few years when Asriel found Chara.” Toriel continued. “She was frail, covered in dirt, and she had cuts and bruises all over her face and body. She was clearly not in the greatest position, almost as if someone had dumped her there and just wanted her to die of starvation.” Toriel explained. “Luckily for her though, my son took after his old lady, and he took her to me and Asgore.” Arthur raised an eyebrow at this new information, almost as if he was questioning Toriel’s choice of words. “Okay fine, I found them messing around. Our house wasn’t too far from the entrance of the mountain.” Toriel admitted. Arthur’s eyebrow lowered. “That being said, we did take her in, and she was one of our own. We loved her unconditionally. She loved us, and she still does. I think her life on the surface was pretty rough on her. I think that’s why she was able to adapt to us. She needed to be around some new scenery.” Toriel explained. “Asriel and Chara were basically inseparable. They loved each other’s company and they always did activities together. There would be no Chara if it wasn’t for Asriel, and there would be no Asriel if it weren’t for Chara. No matter how silly or ridiculous it got!” Toriel elaborated before she sighed and looked down to the floor. “It’s just a shame that while Asriel and Chara never had limits, silliness certainly does.” Toriel uttered before she started to cry. 

“And boy, was that limit found one day… It was a day like no other. It was the day Chara’s silliness and carelessness found its true limit and brought Chara to her deathbed.” Arthur definitely took notice of that last sentence. He wasn’t expecting that turn of events. He was rather taken aback. “Surprised, aren’t you?” Toriel asked before she took a deep breath. “She got violently ill, and our doctors couldn’t do much to help her. She died shortly after…” Toriel uttered. “However, that wasn’t the only thing we lost… Asriel had travelled with Chara’s body the same day to do Chara’s final wish, which was for her to be laid in a bed of flowers on the surface. Then things turned for the worst, according to Asriel…” Toriel could only at that point, barely keep herself together. “Humans saw him, not as a peaceful creature just laying he friend to rest, but as an embodiment of evil and they…” Toriel took a deep breath, as a tear fell out of her eye. “They killed him…” Toriel tried her best to control her breathing, as it was getting heavier and heavier. 

“That being said, I took it much better than Asgore ever did. He was driven to insanity over their passings. He declared war on the surface world, and after many months of fighting, Asgore’s army lost, and we were sealed away. However, that didn’t deter Asgore for his want for vengeance, but even I wasn’t sure how far he was willing to take it… Until, I was.” Toriel further explained. “I suppose then, that brings us to the topic you wish to know about. So, allow me to tell you what happened to those six kids.” Toriel began. Toriel then began to tell the true story of the six children and how Asgore found them and used their souls to power up a device that could destroy the barrier that sealed his kingdom away. “To put it bluntly, he killed those kids. He killed them because of the souls they possessed, which would have freed us from the barrier. When the first one had their souls fused within the machine and I was informed of Asgore’s actions, I immediately left and filed for a divorce. I wanted nothing to do with him anymore. He had become unrecognisable to me. He was no longer a loving father. What remained in him was a revenge and war obsessed psychopath.” Toriel explained. “After that, I tried to protect the other children who fell down Mt Ebott, but either my reincarnated son got them, or my ex-husband did.” Toriel explained. “Your son was reincarnated? Like, as in brought back to life?” Arthur asked. “Yes. In fact, that’s how Flowey was born. He emerged after Asriel’s death. As if Asriel’s soul had somehow been transported into a flower. Yet, despite them being one of the same and retaining all their memories, it was almost like they were two completely different people.” Toriel explained. 

“I suppose in many ways, Flowey was much like Chara in terms of his personality. He was rather aggressive and violent, and at some point, he wanted the world to burn. I should know because I was there. In fact, there were two incidents where I saw it. Once near my home and once in Asgore’s home.” Toriel elaborated further. 

Toriel sighed. “In many ways, I still haven’t forgiven Asgore. In some aspects, I no longer trust him. I was quite heartbroken seeing the depths he had sunk to, only to protect his ego and pride. I am unsure where I see the two of us today in terms of our relationship. I mean, I only began talking to him again because of Asriel. It’s not like I wanted to originally…” Toriel stopped talking at that point, as her emotions took over her. Arthur sighed and stood up. He looked at Toriel, not with an angry expression or a determined one. It was more gloomy, sad, and guilt-ridden. Arthur then walked over to a brick wall, then he began to shake rather violently. He managed to compose himself and turned to look back towards Toriel. “Does anybody else know this aside from Asgore and you?” Arthur asked. “Yes, Asriel, Chara and Frisk, but that’s it.” Toriel replied. “Does the kingdom know?” Arthur again asked. Toriel glanced at the floor and back at Arthur. “No.” answered Toriel. Arthur looked down before he walked over to the shutters. “Then maybe it’s time that somebody does…” Arthur muttered before he opened the shutters and left the warehouse.

To be continued…