#I LOBOTOMIZED MYSELF FOR YOU COME KISS ME | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

finaledenialist · 4 years

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so in one of your asks you said you dont think cas was in love with dean since the beginning and idk its interesting to me because everyone seem to think he was from the start so what is your take on that? idk im just curious haha

ohhh I wanted to make a post about this so thanks for asking!

disclaimer: I don’t want to rain on anyone’s parade I just have a different take on this whole thing!!!

So. I see people are like: OMG he was in love ALL THIS TIME SINCE 4x01 and I am like: no.

Was he lost since he laid his hand on Dean in hell? Yes. Was he instantly in love? Nah.

See, Cas in season 4 and 5 is starting to feel. He is conflicted, he is questioning, he doesn’t have ‘people skills’, he is confused by what he feels, he knows there is a ‘profound bond’ between him and Dean and he is rebelling for Dean, because Dean has a point and Cas feels Dean is right and apocalypse and destruction are wrong, and this human is so human and he never had that connection before. Add the sexual innuendos, the eye fucking and the tension between those two and this is what i call ‘classic destiel’. I do have a strong feeling this is partly Jensen’s and Misha’s fault though haha but I am also convinced that the jokes like ‘Cas, get out of my ass!’/’Blow me Cas’ are purely for ‘comedic purposes’ because haha gay so funny (keep in mind it’s still 2008/2009 and things were so different then BUT we still got Endverse which had not only sexual stuff implied but romantic as well - ‘all we have left, Dean and I, is each other, if Dean says it’s time to go in a blaze of glory, so be it’ (I am writing this from memory so these might not have been exact lines but you know what I am talking about).

And then in season 6 and 7 is where things start to get romantic. ‘I watched you rake leaves’, Dean’s blind faith that no, Cas can’t be working with Crowley behind their backs because come on it’s Cas and the whole 6x20 episode is *chief’s kiss* and then season 7 and Cas dies to make things right and Dean keeps his trenchcoat and moves it from every car they have been using that season to always have it with him because part of me always believed you’d come back. OK, but I was meant to be talking mostly about Cas’ point of view. Which takes me back to 7x23 and I’d rather have you, cursed or not. I think these words had a major impact on Cas. Something just clicked. Because he realized that he could say these exact same words to Dean and they still would be true.

And then we got season 8 which was a major shift and it really moved stuff from ‘sexual tension’ to ‘romantic tension’ and it’s still called ‘season fanfiction’ because I wanted to keep them away from you in purgatory and Cas generally not feeling worthy of anything but I think this is when he started to realize that what he feels is not like ‘brotherly friendship’ but something much deeper but he had his issues (I don’t deserve to be saved from purgatory thing) so he kind of kept it buried. But this was when the Real Love really started. But did he admit it to himself? Well I am not in Cas’ head but something must have been on his mind - Naomi had access too his mind and she immediately recognized that there is a certain Feeling that is dangerous and Cas needs to be fucking lobotomized (I still have shivers thinking about it). Did Naomi knew it was love? Idk, but she felt something was going on - that is why she tried to mess things up between Dean and Cas (I only wish he felt the same way ouch my heart....) and Metatron also recognized it, quicker and better (maybe because he spent much more time on earth and was generally a little more powerful and knowing as the scribe of God) and he immediately used Cas’ grace to banish angels from heaven because Cas was feeling love for a human. But did he, himself recognized it as love? Did he admit it to himself? I still have a feeling that no. I still think that his ‘I don’t know’ after Dean’s ‘What broke the connection?’ was honest.

Now let me fast forward to season 12, because this post is getting too long already and while seasons 9-11 had some good episodes and even good destiel scenes I feel this was the time many people - rightly so - were starting to lose faith in canon destiel, starting with Dean not letting Cas stay in the bunker in season 9 and bros acting like they only call Cas when they need him. I repeat - there were still some good episodes, even great ones. And we were shown Cas worried about Dean and being there for him anytime Dean called, there was so much pining but once again let me raise The Question: did Cas know what he was feeling was love? Or was he still confused, not letting himself believe, not being able to name his own feelings and emotions? And this is merely my opinion but this is also time where many people started to be bitter and negative by how writers treated Cas (and other characters in general but I am not gonna dive into that dumpster now, especially the Cas-having-sex-with-a-reaper thing which was awful, but in retrospect is even more awful because if it was Chuck’s writing this seems like some kind of sick attempt to do a conversion therapy and I want to throw up; plus he thought? he was into his boss at gas’n’sip and he thought she was into him and what even was it if not a. bad writing; b. Cas being confused; c. Cas being confused about this bad writing).

So season 12. First of all 12x12, when Cas thought he is gonna die and the infamous line ‘I love you. I love all of you’ happened. I am 100% sure this is when Cas realized. This must have prompted questions for him. Why did I say what I said? He blurted those words out but why like that? Aaaand after some thinking I think he realized why. He must’ve been like ‘oooops’. But then Jack was about to be born and he had to protect Kelly and then he died.

And then he is in the Empty who says - I know who you love, I know what you fear, there is nothing for you out there. She doesn’t know shit, she just has access to Cas’ mind and apparently those were his thoughts, already at that time, he thought there was nothing for him out there (again, his depression issues) BUT THEN CAS, MY SWEET CAS, THIS BAD ASS MOTHERFUCKER says fuck you Empty in one of his best monologues (before 15x18 I’d say it was his best but here we are) and she yeets him out, because HE decided HE is already saved and he doesn’t need a permission and you can preen and you can scream and yell and remind me of my failings but somehow, I'm awake. And I will stay awake and I will keep you awake until we both go insane. I will fight you. Fight you and fight you for... ever. For eternity.

And then Jack dies and he takes the humiliating deal. And now we’re at 15x18 and he says: ‘I have always wondered.... ever since I took that burden.... What my true happiness can even look like... Because the one thing I want is the one thing I can’t have’. SEE THESE WORDS HERE ARE WHY I CAN’T SLEEP AT NIGHT. BECAUSE THEY IMPLY at least to me THAT:

1. He was aware of his feelings, he knew what he felt was love at the time he took the deal. and after that he was like ‘I guess I am immortal now’ because the one thing I want is the one thing I can’t have so nothing else is going to make him truly happy; this also implies that there is only one thing he truly wants and the rest is just not that important, whatever else happens won’t make him happy which is heartbreaking;

2. He knew what he wanted, so this means that at some point he wondered, he imagined, he took his time to picture the ‘thing’ he wanted. Which is life with Dean. Because he is in love. LIKE HE THOUGHT ABOUT THIS, HE REALLY DID AND HE CONCLUDED THAT THIS IS OUT OF HIS REACH (now people argue if that is because he thinks it’s unrequited or because he thinks that something something hunter life-fighting all the time-no attachments lifestyle won’t allow them to have this sort of life - and frankly, knowing that he learned everything, or almost everything about emotions from Dean, who isn’t really good at them, I am not surprised if he is sure that this feeling is one-sided, because maybe he conquered his fears in the Empty the first time around but taking the deal must have made him anxious and Chuck still calls him self-hating so he probably thinks this is one-sided and he is unworthy of love anyway);

3. He tried to imagine different scenarios that would make him happy but eventually it all came down to That One True Scenario, out of his reach, that couldn’t compare with anything else, and he tells Jack - you know about that deal, it’s ok, I don’t see myself becoming happy anytime soon AND IT HURTSSS

so to conclude and tl;dr - I think Cas realized that what he was feeling was love after 12x12 although he felt it before but might have been confused by it. I do not think he was ~in love~ since 4x01. There was tension and there was pining but no. This feeling evolved, it didn’t *just* happen in the barn.

also i am so sorry this took so long but i have thoughts and feelings and can’t form a coherent sentence since november 5th anyway thanks for asking nonny, ily!!!!

#ask #asks #anon #long post #destiel is endgame #cas is in love #everything is beautiful but it hurts #spn 15x18 #spn spec #spn speculation #Anonymous

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vivithefolle · 3 years

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I'm a bit confused. You said in one post that you thoroughly dislike Hermione and that you had no respect for her at all. Yet ... you like Romione? idk, it seems contradictory tbh. I like when Romione shippers acknowledge her flaws and messed up moments but when someone that dislike and even hate her character that much ships Romione and I see them posting about them and calling them "cute" just seems weird

I’ll share with you my whole thought process so you can understand where I’m coming from:

Itty-bitty Vivi who read Harry Potter for the first time (at 13/14, so not so itty-bitty I guess, oops): Woaaah Hermione and Ron yaay!!! They're awesome I love them! They're my OTP always and forever!! Best thing to happen in Harry Potter!! JKR is a genius!

Slightly less itty-bitty Vivi discovering the Harry Potter fandom online (thankfully years after the ship wars, else I probably wouldn't have survived): Why is there so much hate towards Ron? And why are people so opposed to Romione?? It was meant to be since the first book! Or, okay, the second book is when I realized it was gonna happen, but still! Oh well, here is a fic where Hermione berates Ron for everything and he is the only one actually working for their relationship. Cool, more Romione!

Even less itty-bitty Vivi starting her own Tumblr and going around, adding her grain of salt to debates and talking about stuff: Yeah! Ron is great! He's done bad things of course but Hermione has done her fair share of bad things too! Actually, now that I'm rereading the books, I'm reminded of this person I used to call a friend, who was quite smart and cultured but would often be very harsh to me because they claimed it was “for your own good" and “because I'm more mature than you"… I still wanted to be around them, because they were just so smart and passionate, but we often rowed and eventually they really just went too far and tried to make ME out to be the bad guy and most people believed them because they had a reputation as someone cool and logical while I was known for being emotional… wait, what the fuck, that's… that's exactly what happens in the fandom with Ron and Hermione! What the fuck, was I Ron? Admired their intelligence, praised and supported them, fell in love even but was met with scorn and open disdain?!… no, no, come on. Hermione wasn't that bad.

Vivi rereading Half-Blood Prince (and no, this wasn't about the canaries, but about what Hermione was doing after): Oh my god she was that bad.

Vivi as she ponders alternately: Wait, what about JK Rowling? What does she think about all that? What was her intention, what did she want to accomplish with the characters? I know books belong to their readers but if I want as objective an analysis as possible I must try to understand her thought process while she wrote.

Vivi learning about a staple of British literature called “literary alchemy”: The quarreling couple!! Sulfur and Mercury, the Red King and the White Queen, who must marry for the story to end happily!! And their union is represented by… a rose!! Oh my god, that is brilliant, that is so cool! Romione was ALWAYS going to happen, I knew it! Ha!

Vivi discovering the “[Ron] needed to make himself worthy of Hermione” quote: Wha… but… what? Worthy? As if Hermione was some sort of precious trophy or whatever? What the hell? Wait, Ron had to make himself worthy of her but Hermione didn't have to make herself worthy of him? Is it because Ron is the boy or some shit like that??

Vivi going through JK Rowling's interviews and finding sexism and double-standards galore: Yep, it's because he's the boy. And that bit about Hermione being based off herself when she was younger… ouch. And to top it off the scriptwriter pretty much worshipped Hermione…

Vivi rereading the books again: Is it just me, or does Ron hardly ever get any praise or acknowledgement from the adult characters? Meanwhile Harry and Hermione get stuff like “as good as Charlie Weasley" or “brightest witch of her age"! And, damn, I used to side with Hermione because I love cats, but she was completely awful in POA! She apologized but then the plot made her out to be right even then?? And I always thought her Yule Ball entrance was kinda over-the-top, but damn if that's not compensating for something! Also what the hell, I get that Harry is suffering and all but will someone PLEASE pay attention to the fact that Ron is being bullied BY A FOURTH OF THE STUDENT BODY AND NOBODY SEEMS EVEN REMOTELY CONCERNED????? Also what the hell is wrong with the sixth book, I never liked it much but it's like it's trying to make every character look bad, wtf?? And, and, holy shit I never noticed but Ron was asking legit questions during the Horcrux Hunt debate but Harry kept deflecting or mocking him but it's still Ron who had to apologize in the end??? And I've read a whole post about how Hermione punching Ron is the appropriate reaction for a very small child and not a supposedly “mature" character, and that Harry had to SHIELD RON FROM HER, oh my god?? It's… oh my god, what the fuck is wrong with JK Rowling?

Vivi, in denial: Well, Harry Potter is decidedly not a romance. It's about love, but romantic love is quite far down the priority list when it comes to it. JKR has herself confessed that she wasn't too good at writing romance, and I don't blame her because writing romance is hard. But I did enjoy Romione! When I was little I saw it coming from a mile away, granted I was already savvy in literature but that must have been because she was doing something right! And then the sixth book happened… the sixth book which… which was released after the Harry Potter movies were being filmed, wasn't it?

Vivi looking up the timelines: Oh my god. Oh my god it's even worse, the movies were being discussed before Goblet of Fire came out. Come to think of it, I always found that the Trio felt… different, after Prisoner of Azkaban. Harry and Ron especially felt like they had gotten dumber? And Hermione was suddenly explaining everything when exposition used to be split between her and Ron…

Vivi, in mourning: So that's what happened. Ron ended up being shortchanged to make Hermione look better, because Rowling was fonder of Hermione than she was of Ron, and the scriptwriter too come to think of it. Curse you, Steve Kloves!!!

Vivi, who is nothing if not what Pokémon fans call a nostalgiafag: But… but… yeah, it sucks that Ron was shortchanged, and actually yeah it's a freaking travesty and I WILL freaking spread the world about this, mark my words, but, but I still… I can't help it, when Hermione “looked up at Ron and her frostiness seemed to melt" I melt too. When Ron compliments Hermione or tries to take care of her as much as he can I… it still does something to me, I still find myself rooting for them even if I know there's the awful sixth book and the stupid post-Locket beatdown. Their kiss, for God's sake, I've just realized that Ron may have swept Hermione off her feet physically, but it's Hermione who jumped him, you could say Hermione metaphorically swept Ron off his feet!! God damn it, that's good, that's so good!

Vivi, at war with herself: No, I can't let myself be blinded by nostalgia!! The facts are that Hermione shows borderline abusive - even actually abusive - behaviour, this can't be denied! I don't want to root for an abusive relationship! I don't want to root for a relationship that relies on my favourite character being dumbed down to work!!!

Vivi, about to uncover the secrets of the universe: … wait a second. I don't have to.

Vivi, having an epiphany: Reading Solstice Muse's Romione fanfics gives me such happiness because she just gets the characters! She doesn't portray Hermione as perfect and never fucking up, and she always treats what happens to Ron with respect… Well, especially since she can't play them off as a joke since she often makes Ron the POV character. But, yeah! I can still like Romione… if it's well-written. Which, well, isn't the case in the original books… at least, isn't the case anymore after Rowling's bias got the best of her. Even though they do have their great moments.

Vivi, finding purpose in her life: I am going to spread awareness. I am going to tell the world. Fuck, just rereading the books, I've noticed how blatant the favouritism is and how unbalanced it can be. No wonder the fandom seems to collectively scoff at Ron - the books themselves do whenever it's convenient for them! The fandom plays favourites, because the author herself played favourites, and the worst part is that she didn't even realize it! Imagine you spend your life getting into traumatic situations out of love for your friends who always receive compassion and validation for their feelings about said traumas, but YOUR trauma is hardly touched upon and in the rare case it is, it's only to be mocked or used against you… Fuck! You're a piece of work, JKR! And the fandom just swallows it whole like a bunch of lobotomized snakes! Screw it! Screw it, I'm going to say it like it is, and I'm going to say it LOUDLY! People are going to hear about what Ron goes through and we'll see if Harry and Hermione look like the only ones worthy of therapy then!!

Present day Vivi, as she scrolls through the (heavily filtered) Romione tag on AO3: Ugh, another Drarry… and another… and another… oh, a Hinny-centric fic for a change, cool but I'm looking for more Romione than that, sorry. Gah, why is it that Romione appears as a secondary ship everywhere but they can't get their own stories? I've just seen a Snupin come up for God's sake! Oh, finally, a full Romione!! *clicks* … … … awww that was so sweet. Kudos! Okay back to the search… oh, another one!! *clicks* … … … it's Ron-bashing. It's Ron-bashing and it's not tagged Ron-bashing and that's why it showed up in my search AND I'M GOING TO FREAKING RIOT-

#vivi answers #ask #romione #ron weasley #hermione granger #ron weasley defense squad #ron weasley defence squad #ron x hermione #harry potter series #anti jk rowling

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drcaligostoloboto · 4 years

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Hi guys! In this post, I will tell you why I find the relationship between Dr. Loboto and Coach Oldeander very interesting. And no, it's not just because they worked together in the first game that I find it interesting. I have many other reasons that I will mention. This analysis will also have spoilers related to Psychonauts 2 so don't read if you don't want to be spoiled... Let's go!

First I'm going to talk about the similarities between them two:

• They have the same voice actor who is none other than Nick Jameson. This one also makes the voice of Mr. Pokeylope in the first game and the Psychonauts Operator in Rhombus of Ruin. And I find it just great. Their voices are so different. Loboto's voice is high, while Oleander's is low. Nick Jameson is really talented and I think it's great.

• Loboto is blue and Oleander is orange. And we all know that blue and orange are complementary colors.

• Loboto is tall and Oleander is small. This honestly goes well together in terms of "partner in crime".

• They both have a scar on their face.

• Loboto lost his right arm and Oleander lost sight of his right eye.

• They both wanted to be a sailor. In Rhombus of Ruin, we can see that Loboto clearly wanted to be one. Part of his mind is a giant bathtub with a boat and in this boat there is First Mate Loboto who is none other than a sailor. When he was a child, he literally wore a sailor outfit. And he did a lot of experiments on fish. Linda in the first game and all the fish guards in the midquel game. All this is related to the marine world. And his skin is just blue as the sea. Just saying.

Oleander talks about the Navy a lot. So much so that in Rhombus of Ruin, he is very happy when he has a mermaid tail and says he would like the Navy to see him now. Being a sailor would certainly have been his dream job but alas, he was too short. And he also can’t swim because of his stumpy legs.

• They both have a problem with their parents. (But who doesn’t in the Psychonauts world, honestly?) Loboto's parents outright lobotomized their son just because he was psychic and Oleander's father slaughtered his precious little bunny right in from of him. These events are truly tragic.

• The Whispering Rock Pamphlet. Oleander wrote this pamphlet. And this pamphlet says "You were born with a special gift. But the people around you treat it like a curse. Your mother is afraid of you, and your father looks at you with shame in his eyes." And it makes me think so much of Loboto. Because that's what happened to him. His mother was afraid of him and his father most certainly looked at him with shame in his eyes. And Oleander wrote that. And in my opinion, it seems very personal. Oleander's family surely saw him too this way. And so it's a big point in common between Loboto and him.

• They are both at least into men. Let me explain.

In Rhombus of Ruin, we learn that Oleander likes the boy band "All Paul". Three male mermaids singing love songs. And he's a big fan of them. He even sings one of their songs which is “Drag Me Down”. The fish guards draw each characters during the game. And they drew Oleander with the members of All Paul with hearts all around them. As you can see in the picture below.

In Psychonauts 2, there is a small detail that we can miss if we are not careful. But in his mind, there are a lot of posters and one of them shows two male teeth in love. And the elements of an individual's mind say a lot about his personality.

So, Oleander and Loboto are either gay or bi. And it’s wonderful to think about it.

• The song Drag Me Down. This song is sung by Oleander but did you know that this song is also found on Loboto's computer in his laboratory in the Rhombus? It would mean that Loboto is a fan of All Paul too and it's fun to think about it. It's also a song about a breakup. In my opinion, this could be related to the fact that Oleander and Loboto no longer work together. If we analyze few lyrics from it, it can really be about them. “ When we met it was the best thing that I've known “, “I gave you everything you asked” (Reference to Loboto giving Linda to Oleander?) and “Never worried it wouldn't last but we are”. Oleander probably never worried that it could end but alas... A turtle named Pokeylope decided otherwise by blasting his partner. A tragic and true story.

• They both like to dance. Loboto always takes those little dance steps that we see in the first game and Ror, when he turns on himself. And Oleander dances when he sings "Drag Me Down", proving that he likes it as well.

• Raz saw them both when they were young children in their minds. Also, the first level in Psychonauts is Oleander’s mind and the first level in Psychonauts 2 is Loboto’s mind.

That’s all about the similarities, now I’m going to talk about the three games.

Psychonauts:

• In the first game, they worked together and they had a lot of fun together.

Just... Look at them.

They are just completely evil together. Partners in crime, after all.

• Loboto was very excited about taking over the world, too. In this cutscene where we see him talking with Lili we can clearly see his excitement over this. So, Loboto also wanted to be a part of it. Imagine, if he and Oleander had succeeded... The world will be complete chaos! Full of teeth and brains!

Rhombus of Ruin:

Although they do not interact in the midquel game, there are still some crisp info.

• Loboto talks about Oleander saying he has "a touch of halitosis". Halitosis is bad breath. Given their size difference, how does he know? Loboto is like... Twice Oleander’s height as you can see in the picture below.

To be realistic, I think that since Loboto is a dentist he most certainly wanted to check the condition of Oleander's teeth and realized that it was a complete mess. Or maybe he kissed him and that’s how he knew.

• Loboto will say that he doesn't want this "little fellow" (Oleander) to learn about his new client. He thinks he wouldn’t like to know he was moonlighting. Why does Loboto care about it? Suspicious.

• If you don’t enter his mind at immediately, Loboto begins to speak by himself by saying dialogues of events he has experienced from the past. And he talks a lot about Oleander. He says: “That army man... What was he thinking? Psychoblaster Death Tanks?” and he laughs. But his laugh is natural, it’s not an usual crazy laugh like he always do. He also says: “Are you trying to impress girls... OR TAKE OVER THE WORLD? And you do NOT want to know what kind of gas mileage those things got.” which is... very funny to me.

• Oleander is the one who will come with his psycho-portal to give it to Raz. So in a way we can say that it is thanks to Oleander that Loboto has his moral compass back.

Psychonauts 2:

We don't know a lot about the game yet but a demo was released last summer, in June 2019, I absolutely love it. Loboto and Oleander interacted in it.

• As you can see in the pictures above, Oleander put his arm around Loboto. (Did he touch his butt?!) And he is very friendly towards him. I know they're supposed to be "acting" for Loboto to reveal who his boss is. But let's agree... Oleander is way too friendly with him.

• Oleander calls Loboto "Cal", not even Caligosto or Loboto like the others do. He calls him by a nickname. First name basis is a very friendly thing.

• He says to Loboto that he is going to love that vacation package and that he’s jealous. And then he looks at him and his eyes shine. I honestly think he’s the one who make this little package, by the way. He also looks very proud of him.

• He also says “Maybe he doesn’t want those tropical vacations after all!” and “Hurry up or I”ll take those vacations myself!” he teased him at least twice.

• And he acts very “gentlemanly” toward him. Just look at the pictures above.

Oleander is a true, a real... GENTLEMAN! A man of good manner, I see.

• Bonus: Loboto vision. Oleander is... SO SMALL!

• In another scene, Oleander and Raz face a censor. Oleander begins to explain to Raz what a censor is and what they do, everything seems to be fine until he gets to the "Don't belong" part. Oleander realizes this and displays a sad face. He even looks at the ground, for a second, in silence as if he was thinking of something. Maybe he feels sad because Loboto doesn't see him as a friend but a threat and that's why he looks so... thoughtful.

• In this same scene, he begins to flee. (Colliding with a chair, by the way) He is certainly fleeing because he does not want the censor to expel him. Leaving Raz to take care of all the work.

Name a better duo than Oleander and this chair, I’ll wait.

That’s all about the games. Now mind if I share two... Headcanons?

Headcanons:

• I think Loboto and Oleander are the same age and that they were born in the 50s. Which would mean they lived their childhood in the 60s.

Let's talk about their parents.

First of all, Oleander’s dad.

When I did my research, I wanted to find out what a butcher looked like in the 60s and this is the image I found.

Pretty similar clothes to the ones Oleander’s dad wears.

See? It honestly looks very similar.

Now let’s talk about Loboto’s parents and especially about his mom.

Image below is how dresses looked in the 60s.

And this is Loboto’s mom:

It’s the same kind of dress...

...So, Loboto’s parents and Oleander’s dad are from the same time.

And by "time", I mean the 60s.

Even the clothes Oleander and Loboto wore when they were kids, have 60s vibes, in my opinion... So! This would mean they’re the same age or around the same age. If we assume that the events of Psychonauts are in 2003, it would mean that in the events of the games, they are either in their early 40, or in their mid-40. Even late 40 or early 50 if they were born before 1955.

• My second headcanon is that I think they know each others for years. The legend of the monster in the lake (Linda) is apparently very old. And we all know who made Linda looking this way. It was Loboto. So, it would mean that Loboto and Oleander have worked on that for a very looooooooooong time. That would also explain why Oleander calls Loboto “Cal” in the PN2 demo. Because they were friends since a very long time. Maybe they even knew each others before that. Could be honestly cute if they were childhood friends, to be honest.

...Well! That’s all about my analysis. Their relationship sure is interesting and if you’ve read the whole thing then... Thank you! I wonder what will happen to them exactly in the second game. I could see them being a team again honestly. They fit so well together and not especially in the romantic way. I think that they could be a great team. Maybe they will both win the employee of the year award in Psychonauts 2 and going to tropical vacations together? Maybe even they will explore the world instead of taking over it? We’ll see!

#Psychonauts #dr. loboto #coach oleander #caligosto loboto #morceau oleander #my post

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necroticblonde-a · 4 years

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Send me a “💭“ and your Muse will experience one of my Muse’s Memories

I’ll be writing this in first person! Also it got a bit lengthy!! Warnings for brief mentions of physical abuse.

The days were getting hazy and begun melding together because I’d stopped sleeping over time because I didn’t trust anyone, let alone the man I’d been sharing a bed with. Day in, day out; I’d sit in the front doorway of his shabby little mobile home and let the searing desert heat roll over me all day. Staring out into the empty horizon, past the rest of the mobile homes and tents that’d been scattered by his followers…or rather our followers, across our sorry excuse for a little commune.

“Why don’t you come to bed?” David asked as he’d walk in at the end of his day, which was whenever the sun set. He stepped over me so he could make his way to the kitchen. “It’s gonna get cold soon. Close the door, wash up, come to bed.” It wasn’t a request. It was a demand but I didn’t care anymore. This wasn’t interesting to me anymore, he wasn’t beautiful anymore, I could feel him crushing me between his filthy hands, I didn’t love him anymore but I was bound to him until the day he’d pass. Too much “anymore”…We were both spiraling in opposite directions; he was going upwards but I was only sinking. I finally admitted to myself that I was no longer in control but neither was he.

I couldn’t bring myself to speak. If I had opened my mouth, my abhorrence would’ve begun spilling out faster than any lie or runaround conversation could and I would’ve been struck with another glass bottle if I slipped. I didn’t feel like picking shattered glass out of my hair that night.

When I blinked, any tiny ray of golden sunshine had long dissipated and the beige sand had been tinted by the pale blue moon. The cold air had long since rolled in and had forced the hot, stale air out from behind me. Had I stopped thinking or did I somehow lose consciousness? The prospect of either frightened me, enough to motivate me to try to get up and move.

As I stirred to stand up, I realized David had laid his head across my lap. I couldn’t even sit at the edge of catatonia without him finding a way to fix me down. The weight of his head, the mass of his shaggy dark blonde hair brushing against my thigh was a feeling I once enjoyed. At some point, I may have leaned down to kiss his temple but by then, all I felt was the temptation to dig my sand-coated fingers between his eyelids, or take a handful of hair, tear it out along with a piece of scalp, and then spit into the wound. The first words I’d uttered in weeks, whispered into his sleeping ear: “I should’ve let them lobotomize you.”

#claudiaindarkness #((Thank you!))#♚ Mind Crawler #♚ Canons #♡ Drabbles #♡ asks

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ghostiedoesherbest · 5 years

Text

Patches - III

It didn’t take long for news of Lotor’s sudden freedom to reach Allura and she wasn’t pleased to say the least. The first person that she began to look for was Shiro, who had been resigned for this coming conversation. He silently prayed to whatever deities that were listening that he would get through this conversation with the rest of his limbs in tact when the Altean princess stormed into the control room. “Shiro, please explain to me why Lotor is not in his prison cell?” Shiro took a deep breath, hoping that Mateo was having a much better time than he was.

_______________________________________________

As it turns out, Shiro was right. Lotor and Mateo were sitting in the recreational room. The silver haired prince was completely puzzled by the simple technology of the game system. “What is its purpose?” he’d asked.

Mateo tilted his head, “It’s for entertainment. You take a game disk, put it in the console, and you can play a game with these remotes. You wanna try it out?”

“Fascinating. I’ve heard of these games but I’ve never been allowed to play one,” Lotor said as he turned the remote control over in his hands, his fingers itching to take it apart so he could see how it worked.

“Didn’t you try one out when you were exiled?” Mateo inquired.

Lotor shook his head, “I focused most of my time on survival and gathering support.”

Mateo noticed that there wasn’t an ounce of regret in Lotor’s voice but there was a longing there that made his heart clench in pity. He forced a bright smile onto his face and slid a simple game into the game console. “Well, better late than never, right?” Mateo went about showing Lotor how the game worked. It was a game called Castle Crashers. They both picked the colors of their characters with Mateo choosing the happy looking pink character and Lotor deciding to use the very aggressive looking purple character.

It was a simple hack and slash game that was rather easy to learn. Although, Mateo quickly learned that Lotor was a little shit. “Why do you keep taking all of the gold?!”

“Because you keep stealing my kills,” the prince retorted with a haughty snort.

“I’m trying to help you! We’re a team remember!” That was said right before the killed the first boss. Then, came the battle for the princess’s favor in which Mateo was decimating Lotor.

“What happened to the team, Mateo?” Lotor cried in indignation as he tried to help his character fend for itself.

“That was then and this is now,” Mateo laughed as his character killed Lotor’s character. The prince pouted as Mateo’s character was kissed by the princess.

“She’s not even your type!”

“Which is?” Mateo asked, humoring the pouting prince.

“I think the blonde one is more your speed.”

Mateo opened his mouth to retort but he quickly thought back on all of his previous boyfriends and realized that most of them just so happened to be blonde. Perhaps he did have a type. “You’re not wrong.” He just doesn’t know that Mateo bats for a different team. Lotor gave him a pointed look and the brunette rolled his eyes but let the Galra have that victory.

Lotor chuckled to himself, “If I had known that these video games were as fun as this one, I would have invested a portion of my time into it. It has been a long time since I have enjoyed myself so much!”

Mateo was about to respond when the door slid open to reveal a very unhappy Allura and an exasperated Shiro. The pair stood to greet them but Allura completely ignored Lotor in favor of glaring at Mateo. "What do you think you are doing?"

Mateo coolly regarded the white haired princess, "I'm playing video games with Prince Lotor."

"Now is not the time for smart remarks Mateo! Do you not care that his father is responsible for the complete subjugation and slavery of the entire known universe?!" she snapped. The older McClain cousin noticed the way the prince flinched out of the corner of his eye.

"Allura who is the person standing beside me?"

"Do you think I'm blind?! Anyone with eyes can see that he's the heir to the most blood thirsty race in the universe!"

"I think you need to have your eyes reevaluated Princess," Mateo said. Shiro could feel the temperature drop at his cold and clinical tone. It was almost as if he was back in training under Iverson. "His name is Prince Lotor, Son of Zarkon. Son. He is not Zarkon -"

"I am well aware!"

"I don't think you are," Mateo folded his arms behind his back and began to circle around Allura like a predator. He wasn't about to back down from this. "You are holding an entire race responsible for the actions of a man who holds power over them. You look at Lotor and you see Zarkon but Zarkon wouldn't be sitting here trying to help us end this war. That is the plan, correct?"

Allura's face grew red with frustration, "Yes! That has never changed!"

"So tell me what was your plan upon defeating Zarkon?" Mateo asked as he came to a stop to stare directly into Allura’s eyes, his voice barely above a whisper but he could have shouted for all its effect on Allura who reeled back as though she'd been slapped.

Mateo had grown wary of Allura after experiencing the alternate reality where the Alteans were the dominating force of the universe. Where Allura allowed for other races to be practically lobotomized in order to serve the Alteans as subservient slaves. What disturbed him the most is that this reality’s Allura had seen nothing wrong with the practice because it was "more peaceful." That wasn't peace, it was slavery but Allura could see no wrong in it because the Alteans did it so there must have been a logical reason for it, right?

However, if the Galra had taken up the practice she would have been horrified and called them monsters. That double standard was why Mateo had become a lot more hesitant with his interactions with Allura. He hadn't been her biggest fan before but he could trust her to have his back. Now he wasn't so sure. If she found out about his heritage would she be okay with it or would she immediately turn on him?

Allura had yet to answer his question so Mateo put pressure on her, taking a step forward. Immediately she took one back. "What is your plan for the Galra left without an emperor to lead them? Were you planning on wiping them out like Zarkon did to your people? Or were you just going to sit by, not knowing the Galra's customs for choosing their leader, and possibly allowing someone worse to take the throne? What is the plan Allura because the way I see it you're blinded by revenge and have no plan beyond hurting the person who hurt you." With each question Mateo took a step forward and Allura would take one back until she was backed against a wall staring into Mateo's dark brown eyes that seemed like an empty abyss in this situation. "What was your plan for Lotor when he ran out of information to give?"

Allura floundered for an answer but she couldn't bring herself to say what had been on her mind. Mateo could see it in her eyes though as he backed away from her with a disgusted sneer. "It seems that you have more in common with Zarkon, Princess."

That seemed to make something in her snap as she used her shapeshifting ability to grow taller so that she could tower over Mateo. Lotor was growing a little nervous at the tension that had been growing in the room. It wasn’t like with Hunk where he knew that it wasn’t serious. This was serious and Lotor didn’t know who he should defend in this situation. “Stand down, Mateo,” she warned.

“I won’t,” Mateo stated glaring directly into her eyes. “I know damn well that you can kick my ass up and down these halls but I’m still gonna tell you the truth Allura. Now are you done puffing yourself up or is your head still so far up your own ass that you don’t want to hear reason.”

Allura’s gaze wavered before averting them from the brunette. “If he turns on us then it will be your fault,” she grumbled, hoping to make Mateo waver.

“I’ll take that chance.”

"If it's all the same to you, I have more information that may be beneficial for you all," Lotor interjected, feeling as though he wasn't supposed to witness what he'd just seen. Although, he was grateful that Mateo was willing to stick his neck out for him, so he felt as though he should prove himself worthy of that chance. “All of the information after this point will be more perilous in nature.”

Allura turned her sharp gaze onto Lotor, “I’m listening.”

“This information is something that I believe you would consider important on a more personal level,” Lotor continued with his shoulder’s rolled back, feeling a little emboldened by Mateo’s presence in the room. Mateo listened intently as Lotor relayed the possible location of Pidge’s father. He was relieved that the younger girl’s father was confirmed to be alive and only in need of rescue. However, he knew the moment that Allura would relay the information to the Green Paladin that she wouldn’t wait for back up.

She did exactly that, pleasantly surprising Mateo when she at least took her brother and the former bounty hunters that almost stole Blue. Lotor observed the exasperated exchange between Shiro and Mateo as they practically rag dolled onto the couch when Allura left them. “At least she’s not by herself,” Mateo sighed.

“Did you see how mad Allura was? Do you know how much my ears were ringing from how much she was yelling at me for letting you talk me into letting Lotor go?” Shiro chuckled as he rubbed his neck. “She looked like she was about to kick your ass.”

Mateo lifted his head to look at the Black Paladin, “You know she could probably wipe the floor with me.”

“Then why did you do that for me?” Lotor asked, reminding Shiro of his presence.

Mateo looked at the Galra prince and gave him a soft smile, “I’m a firm believer in second chances. Plus, I’m pretty sure you’re our only hope for peace.”

“We have Voltron,” Shiro retorted, sounding slightly offended.

Mateo rolled his eyes, “Voltron is a giant sentient super weapon. Being chosen to pilot it doesn’t automatically make everything you do right. Sure, the Galra will back down after you blow up a bunch of their ships, but who’s to say that they won’t come back later looking for revenge.”

Lotor followed his train of thought, “So your plan is to get them on your side. If you get your enemy to stop perceiving you as their enemy then there is no war to be fought.” The prince was honestly impressed by this since he had much similar ideals. He did not want to subjugate but to have peaceful cohabitation.

Mateo shot him finger guns, “That’s the plan, Princey.” Lotor settled on a free portion of the couch next to Mateo’s head with his arms resting on his legs and his hands clasped together. Mateo tilted his head back and his eyes widened. “Whoa! Your hands are huge, man!” He reached out a hand to examine it but stopped short, unsure if Lotor wanted to be touched.

Said prince stared at Mateo for a few moments before hesitantly placing his hand in Mateo’s despite every aspect of himself screaming for him not to trust it. Mateo turned Lotor’s gloved hand over in his own palm, sending pleasant tingles up his arm. He gently brushed his fingers over the palm and frozen when he noticed something interesting. “You have beans!” he said breathlessly as rubbed at the pads of the prince’s hands.

“What?”

“Shiro come check this out!” Mateo called to the older man as he continued to rub Lotor’s palm without answering his question, increasing the tingles felt by the prince. He tried not to show how much it affected him as the Black Paladin leaned over Mateo’s shoulder to see what he was so excited about. Mateo excited waved his hand for Shiro to pay attention as he gently pressed down on Lotor’s palm and watched as his once normal nails elongated but there they were blunted.

“You clip your nails?” Mateo asked, looking up at Lotor who had turned his head away to hide his blush.

“Yes, I found that my claws were rather annoying. They tend to get caught in my clothes,” he cleared his throat and raised his other hand to cover his mouth. Was he really that touch starved? Sure Lotor was well aware of his need for positive attention but he didn’t think that a pretty human caressing his hand would feel as pleasurable as it is.

Mateo tilted his head, wondering if he should do the same about his own since they always get caught in his sweaters and blankets. He had a hard time explaining to his grandma why the blanket she’d made for him was ripped up after a particularly bad transformation. He had to make her believe that he’d taken in an injured feral cat.

“You have some pretty big hands yourself, Mateo,” Shiro pointed out.

Mateo blinked owlishly at the Black Paladin, “Really?” He sat up properly and lined his hand up with Lotor’s. His hand was slightly smaller than Lotor’s but they were considered pretty big by normal standards. He tilted his head in thought, “Huh, I guess they are.”

“Are all human hands so soft?” Lotor asked curiously, hoping to get the attention off of him.

Mateo barked a laugh at his question, “Only the humans who have a relative like Lance. He absolutely refuses to be associated with me unless I moisturize twice a day.” He leaned in and whispered conspiratorially to the prince, “Between you and me, I think he just likes to dote on people, but you didn’t hear it from me.”

Lotor found himself chuckling in amusement. Mateo hadn’t been nearly this nice while he was imprisoned. He was not unkind or cruel, and yet never completely friendly. Lotor was kept at an arm’s length, as he should have been. However, he also didn’t expect for the human to befriend him as quickly as he did. HIs presence made him feel safe and protected, which is ridiculous because he was pretty sure he could bench press the shorter human.

Mateo McClain was an interesting conundrum that Lotor is determined to understand.

Tag List: @starfaring-princelotor @motheroflittlelions @fandomsoffeelings@done-with-your-shit-shirogane @kirahhhh @legendofcarl @lotor-for-emperor@marvelheaux @yanderemommabean @lotorrential @planet-jumping-warrior

#welcome to the lotor deserves better coalition #lotor #prince lotor #prince lotor imagine #lotor imagine #voltron fanfic #voltron imagine #voltron #mateo mcclain #oc #lotor x oc #slow burn #my writing

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jessischipmunk · 7 years

Text

Devil’s Night

Pairing: James Patrick March x Reader

Summary: Reader attends her first Devil’s Night at the Hotel Cortez with James. James loves the reader in more ways than one. He could never even think of killing her. And so god help anyone that laid a hand on her in a disrespectful way. They never really discussed their status, but they both knew where they stood with their feelings, and that was enough for them to go off of. When the reader gets overwhelmed by her first Devil’s Night, James takes the time away from his guests to comfort her and make sure she is alright.

Warnings: language (i think. not too sure how much), obviously some creepy murderer stuff. its AHS for crying out loud, mentions of blood, mentions of anxiety.

It was Devil’s Night at the Hotel Cortez. I didn’t know much about it except that James hosts a dinner the same night every year.

I know who James is, and I know he’s a ghost. So it shouldn’t have been any surprise to me that his guest were ghosts of past murderers. However, it did.

James had been taking care of me for quite some time now. And by that I mean he makes sure I have what I need. I never really understood why, or how for that matter, considering he was a ghost. I always just pushed that thought back. I always had a hard time trying to get things to work in my favor. Now that I have James, things are so much easier, and I couldn’t be more thankful.

James, for some reason, was completely infatuated with me. He was overprotective, caring, loving. It’s hard to believe that all those emotions can come from the world’s greatest serial killer that ever lived. But it was true. He never wanted any harm to come to me. I was the only living thing he never allowed himself to kill. And he’d kill anyone who laid a finger on me.

I guess I liked James too. And not because I thought I should. He was very handsome, needless to say. And he treats me like a queen, which is more than any other guy has ever done. And I’ll admit that we have indulged in certain… activities. The sex was fantastic, even for a ghost. My only wish is that we’d be able to leave the hotel; be a normal couple. But James wasn’t normal. And I guess now, neither was I. Despite him being a ghost, I was very content with the way things were.

However, Devil’s Night turned out to be a different story. It unsettled me. I should have figured all of James’s guests would be ghosts, but I was still shocked when I entered the room.

I walked into James’s hotel room as I was told. I was wearing a long, navy blue gown that had a sweetheart neckline and showed off my cleavage. I saw a woman first. Aileen Wuarnos, to be exact. She was dancing with a man that looked like Richard Ramirez. There was a man with glasses, sitting awkwardly at the table next to man dressed like the zodiac killer. I quickly recognized the man in glasses as Jeffery Dahmer. Walking out of the bathroom I recognized John Wayne Gacy, and over by the window was detective John Lowe. I had met him last year, and was devastated when I learned he had died.

It came as a shock to me to realize these were the ghosts of the world’s greatest serial killers. It overwhelmed me a bit. I knew James wouldn’t let anything happen to me, but the idea of being in a room full of mass murderers is what unsettled me. So I walked over to John Lowe, because he was the only one I knew, and the only one I trusted.

“(y/n)!” He said when he noticed me. “James mentioned you would be coming!” He hugged me awkwardly as he spoke.

“Yeah,” I breathed out nervously. “I wasn’t sure what this was when he told me, but I thought I’d give it a go. And now that I am here, I am genuinely shocked.”

“Why’s that?”

“Well, this room is filled with serial killers. I mean, I should have guessed that knowing James, but actually seeing them all together is one room…”

“Don’t worry,” he said. “James is very fond of you. He’s told everyone what would happen if they tried to pull anything. I can’t guarantee that they will actually listen. They aren’t ones to follow the rules, obviously. But you’re safe with me until he gets here.”

“Thanks, John,” I smiled.

“Well, who is this pretty lady,” Richard said, approaching me and John.

“That’s March’s new lady friend,” Aileen said. “Not anything I expected. You’re nothing special. I wonder why he’s so smitten with you.”

“Believe me. I’ve been asking myself that for a long ass time,” I said back, trying to sound light so she wouldn’t kill me.

“Look at you. You think your a little smart ass, dontchya?” John Wayne Gacy said.

“What? No… I just…”

Everyone started to crowd around me and I felt John push me behind him protectively. “Back off. Do you remember what the consequences are if you touch her?”

“Oh, c’mon! We’re just trying to introduce ourselves,” Aileen said.

“Enough!” James’s voice boomed across the room. “Seem’s like Mr. Lowe is the only one who took what I said into consideration. Thank you, John, but I can take over from here.”

And just like that, I found myself breaking free of the mob and fleeing to James, who welcomed me with open arms. I think I took him a bit by surprise when I embraced him in a total bear hug, wrapping my arms around his waist and resting my head on his chest. I felt him let out a sigh of contentment as he requited my actions. He kissed my temple and asked, “Are you alright, dear?”

“Yeah. I’m fine,” I responded as I pulled away. I looked up at his face. His brown eyes looked down upon me with love and concern. I gave him a reassuring smile.

“Good,” he responded and kissed me lips chastely. “This is (y/n),” he said, turning me around, but keeping one arm around my shoulders. “She is my guest of honor and she is to be given the same respect as you would give me. She is also mine. If I see any one of you try to do anything to her… well, I’ve already explained what would happen.”

James lead me to my seat. I was sat between him and John Lowe, probably because I’d be safest between the two. Ms. Evers began to serve us our meal. James kept his left hand on my knee. I found it comforting considering the circumstances. James made a toast and everyone began to eat. Jeffery complained about the meal, and I was pretty sure why. The voices around me eventually turned into noises underwater, so I was a bit confused when I saw Ms. Evers present Jeffery with a man. Then it clicked. I knew what was going happen, and I knew that Jeffery would play with his food for a good hour before he did anything, but I really didn’t feel like witnessing a murder so I just nonchalantly pulled my phone out from my clutch and started to scroll my instagram.

James noticed my distraction and he gave my knee a reassuring squeeze. I knew he wanted me to socialize. But how? They all literally tried to corner me a half hour ago. But I did as James wished and put my phone away. I lasted maybe forty five minutes after that. I began to feel sick to my stomach. Watching Jeffery turn this man into a lobotomized vegetable made me uneasy. I assumed James thought I was ignoring it, but how could I? I felt my breathing hitch. No, not now. Now is not a time for a god damn anxiety attack. I tried to be smooth about taking deeper breaths, but James finally noticed something was off.

“Is everything alright, darling,” he asked as he brushed a piece of hair behind my ear.

“Yeah, the wine is just a little strong,” I lied.

“You were very engrossed in your cellular device earlier,” he mentioned.

“Oh, yeah. Sorry. It’s just that my favorite band is on tour and I’m waiting for them to announce the dates for North America. I’ve seen them on every tour they’ve had so, as a dedicated fangirl, I’m super excited about going again.” God damn, that was terrible.

“Would you like me to pretend that I understood everything you just said,” he said in a light tone, a small smirk on his face.

I chuckled. “Sure, and I can explain it later.”

James smiled and kissed my head. I tried to finish my salad. Jeffery was now finding an easy way to harvest the man while he was still alive, and everyone was conversing with each other like it was normal. I felt eyes on me constantly. Eventually I couldn’t take it any longer. I was going to be sick.

“Excuse me,” I said, standing up. “I need to use the little girl’s room.” With that, I made my way to the en suite bathroom. I was thankful it was an en suite, that way nobody could see me come in or out. I sat on the floor, the skirt of my dress draping over my legs, and just hovered over the toilet. But nothing happened. Just as it always does. My anxiety racks up enough to the point where I feel sick, but as soon as I am fully prepared for the contents of my stomach to resurface, its gone.

Sometimes I get so wrapped up in the moment that I forget all the coping mechanisms I’ve learned over the years. Once I realized what was happening, I just sat with my back against the wall, trying to steady my breathing. About ten minutes later, James walks in and finds me on the floor.

“Sweetheart…” he said, kneeling down next to me.

“I’m fine,” I said, my voice quiet. I stared in front of me at the bathroom sink. The bathroom was dimly lit from the light of the bedroom. I could just make out the shadows on James’s face when he turned my head to look at him.

“What’s wrong? Was it the food?”

“No, no. The food was great. I just… I had a decent idea of what I would be walking into tonight, but seeing all of them together in one room was a bit overwhelming. And Jeffery… its bad enough he’s a cannibalistic serial killer… but he’s legitimately playing with his food. That’s just fucking weird.”

James sighed. “I’m sorry. This is my fault. I should have talked to you about it before just inviting you-”

“No, don’t be. Honestly, it’s fine. It’s just my anxiety psyching me out. I know you wouldn’t let them hurt me.” I said the last word and then let my head fall back and rest on the wall.

“You look exhausted. I guess anxiety and serial killers don’t mix very well. I will keep that in mind for next year,” he said. I gave him a small smile. “Well, the night is almost over so why don’t you get into something more comfortable and get into bed. Mr. Lowe will be here a bit after everyone leaves, but as soon as he and I are finished, I will be into bed with you.”

I nodded. “John I can handle. He’s the only one I trust out of all those wackadoodles.”

“You do realize that I am, essentially, one of those ‘wackadoodles’?”

I smiled and said, “Yes, but you are my favorite wackadoodle.”

James couldn’t help but smile. “This is one of the many reasons I love you.” I smiled back. “Alright, dear. Go on and get ready for bed,” he said after helping me up. “And I will see you in a few minutes.”

I nodded and he gave me a quick kiss before getting back to his guests.

About twenty minutes later, James came back into the room. He had already undressed and was wearing a plain white shirt and boxers. I was scrolling on my phone when he crawled into bed with me. He laid next me and watched as I stared at my phone. I locked it, and looked over it at him.

“I’m sorry you didn’t get to finish the night,” he said.

“Did you enjoy yourself though?”

“I did. Especially when you were by my side.”

“Well, if you had a good time, then that is all that matters. It was your night.”

James smiled at me. My phone lit up and it was the notification I had been waiting for.

“Fucking finally,” I murmured to myself.

“You have had a mouth on you tonight, dear,” James mentioned, a bit of disappointment in his voice. He never liked it when I swore.

“I’m sorry. I’m just excited.”

“Is that the announcement you were waiting for?”

“Yes it is.”

“Explain to me what a ‘tour’ and a ‘fangirl’ are.”

“So, a tour is when an band or artist or comedian travels to different cities and does a performance at different venues. It’s like another term for travel but mostly for the music industry. A fangirl is a person, usually female, that freaks out and screams and squeals about their favorite celebrity or band. I am, essentially a fangirl, just on a lesser scale ‘cause I really only scream and squeal at concerts.”

“And you have been to every tour of this band you want to go see?”

“Yup. I know every word to every song they’ve ever released. Even ones that weren’t released in the United States,” I said with a small laugh.

“Wow. That really is dedication.” James sighed. “I wish I could go with you.”

“Awe, I know, baby. I’m sure there will be a live stream of it though. That’s when someone records the the show on camera and broadcasts it live through the internet. I’m sure Liz wouldn’t mind showing you how to set it up so you could watch it while I’m there.”

“That would be an interesting experience.” James looked at me fondly. “You seem better than earlier. Did the anxiety subside?”

“A little bit. It’s still lingering ‘cause I’m talking your ear off, but ya know.” I said and shrugged my shoulders.

James pulled me into his body and said, “You could never talk my ear off, sweetheart. I’d listen to you all day long if I could.”

I nuzzled close to him, feeling comforted by his embrace. “I love you, James.”

“I love you, too, (y/n).” He kissed the top of my head. “You’re still trembling a little bit. Try your best to relax and fall asleep. I’m not going anywhere.”

I hummed a response and took in a deep breath, his scent filling my nose. I sank into his hold and drifted off into a dreamless sleep.

#american horror story #james patrick march #james march #american horror hotel #american horror story hotel #Evan Peters #james march imagine #devils night #imagine #john lowe #wes bentley

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eternlmisery · 7 years

Text

Philophobia -Rewritten (8/?)

Sara comes back to Central City and she and Leonard... talk... about their complicated relationship. Sara celebrated New Year's Eve with Lisa, Mick and Leonard.

Read chapter on ao3 | Read the rest of the story on ao3

It was a cold day in Central City. Snow fell from the sky as two men walked out of the bank; bags filled with bundles of cash and gold bars. The police sirens could be heard in the distance as the two thieves made their escape eloquently. The only thing that was left in the empty vault of the bank was a post-it note with the phrases:

“To: CCPD

From: You know which two of your favorite thieves

Ho Ho Ho and Happy Holidays!”

And a fireball and a snowflake drawn underneath. Joe West tried to control his rage over Snart and Rory as Captain Singh laughed a bit before realizing that this was the two resident crooks of Central.

Meanwhile, the two men in question arrived on one of their safe houses and after dropping off most of the lucre there, they returned home and upon opening the door… they gasped.

“What the hell-.” Mick exclaimed as he opened the front door and saw Sara sitting on their kitchen counter cross-legged; sharpening one of her knives.

“I missed you too, Mick.” She said with a smile as she jumped from the counter and placed the knife on it before walking over to Leonard and Mick who had closed the door.

“Blondie.” He stated and gave her a pat in the back as he walked over to the kitchen and grabbed a beer. Leonard was still standing in front of Sara with one of the bags that contained some of the stolen goods. Sara looked at him from head to toe and then Leonard pulled her in for a hug; him catching her by surprise that time.

“I assume you are glad that I’m back.” The blonde told him with a smirk as she pulled back. After their late night conversation neither Leonard nor Sara mentioned anything about her confession and she had kind of thought that he had forgotten since he was very drunk; something that didn’t happen a lot with Leonard. He was careful with the quantity of alcohol he consumed, because he always wanted to have some clarity of mind. But for whatever reason, one night after she left he went and got black-out drunk. “Come on, Snart. We don’t do touchy feely.” Leonard pulled away and grabbed the bag he had set on the floor.

“My favorite vigilante-assassin is back in town. I think I at least owe you a hug.” Sara looked at the bag and lifted her eyebrows. “Mick and I may or may have not gone shopping.”

“Now if I open this bag will I find groceries or… cash?”

“Who do you think I am?”

“Leonard Snart; world-class thief.” She answered and he smirked. “How much did you steal?”

“Well let’s say I’m buying dinner. For many months.”

“And beers!” Mick called out and grabbed another beer and headed towards his room. “Good to have ya back blondie but if I find another knife, imma burn your favorite boots.”

“Got it.” She agreed and smiled at the man who disappeared in his bedroom. “So, you get the food, I get the cards?”

“Don’t you wanna go home and take a shower or something to relax from the trip?” Asked Leonard as Sara kicked her boots off and fell on the couch on her back.

“I can relax very well here too. I can sleep in this couch… Just like old times.”

“Hey, hey, hey I slept in this couch while the princess slept in my bed.” Leonard pointed out; making Sara smirk.

“Well okay I’ll just sleep in Mick’s room.” She suggested and he narrowed her eyes. “Kidding, kidding. I’ll take the couch this time since I don’t have any healing wounds at the moment.”

“Fine, but just so you know next time I get shot I’m coming to your house and sleeping in your bed.” Sara let out a laugh as she looked up at Leonard who was probably searching the number for the Big Belly Burger because both of them were too lazy to head over and get the food themselves. “Hello, yeah I could like to make an order…”

“You ever think about being something more than a criminal, Snart?” Asked Sara, as she stood on the balcony; elbows resting on the railing with a glass of red wine in her hand. Leonard insisted they drank wine for the special occasion of Sara’s return.

“Why would I ever want to be anything else than me?” Leonard asked back; walking next to her.

“I didn’t say to not be you. I said to not be a criminal. To be more.” She said; putting her palm over his on the railing. “Because Leonard Snart isn’t only Captain Cold. You are kind, loving, and compassionate and all you ever wanted was to keep the people you care about safe. You spend your childhood with a monster and you didn’t become like him despite his best efforts. You can be more than a criminal, Leonard. You already are.”

“Did you ever think about becoming a psychologist, Lance?”

“No. Imagine me, sitting in an armchair with a pantsuit, bun and glasses and listening to people telling me about their problems.” She told Leonard with a dry chuckle.

“You love solving problems, Sara. Especially when you beat the hell out of them.” She smiled at him; taking a sip from her glass.

“Yeah, but after all I’ve been through… I couldn’t possibly be patient enough to listen to their problems. Nowadays the only way I can help someone is if I kick their problem’s ass.” She explained with a shrug. “Me as a psychologist is more ridiculous than you as a professional dancer.”

“I’m sorry but did you just offend my dancing skills?” He asked her; placing his half empty wine glass on the table.

“Your what?” Sara teased him but she let her own glass down before moving closer to Leonard again. “Is this an offer, Snart..?”

He pulled her close by the hand; his own settling on her waist. Sara found herself smiling as she and Leonard started swaying along the non-existence melody. The blonde rested her head on Leonard’s shoulder; feeling content to be back after the mayhem that was Starling City. She loved her family and friends but these days the only time she felt herself was when she was with Leonard. It didn’t matter when or where… just to be with him.

“Okay I’ll admit that you know what you’re doing.” Said Sara with a small smile as Snart handed her back her glass. “I’m pleasantly surprised. Word class thief, great cook, master at treating gunshot wounds and now an exceptional dancer too. What other hidden talents do you have?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know..?” Leonard teased; leaning closer to Sara. She looked at him with raised eyebrows.

“Are you drunk from just wine?” She asked him as he smirked. “God, you are really are. But s’okay because I kinda am too.”

“Did we finish the bottle? Good thing Mick hates wine or we would be in troublee!”

Sara stood on her tip toes; trying to come on an eye-to-eye level with the man.

“So you don’t like trouble, Len? Cause from what I’ve seen…” She trailed off as her hand wrapped around his wrist. “…you look like you don’t mind it one bit.”

“Sara… I think we should go lay down. It’s late and we’ve drank and-.”

“Do you remember what I told you on the phone on Christmas, Len?” He didn’t speak; causing the blonde to come closer again… She looked at his through her long lashes with a smile. “Answer me or I’ll just have to refresh your memory.”

Leonard tried to take a step back but Sara didn’t let him as she pressed her hand softly on his cheek.

“I remember…” He told her and she smiled. “Are you glad I do?”

“I’m very glad you do…” Leonard glanced around. They were still all alone and Mick was either passed out drunk or asleep on his bedroom and Sara was back and suddenly she was the one again talking about them… and he found himself grinning.

Sara stood on her tip-toes; pressing her lips against his own and catching him by utter surprise. He had always suspected Sara to be a ‘hungry’ kisser but the kiss they shared was much more than that. Their lips fit perfectly together as Sara wrapped her hands softly on each of Leonard’s wrists. After the initial shock of kissing the woman he had been day-dreaming and just playing dreaming about, Leonard kissed her back with equal softness. That was until Sara pulled away; putting her hand to cover her mouth as she stumbled back.

“Sara-.” Leonard said but she was already grabbing her jacket and phone and practically running towards the door.

“I’ll… I’ll see you tomorrow. I’m sorry. This… This didn’t happen… I’m sorry.”

And then she was gone.

NEW YEAR’S EVE- December 31st 2013

“How long are we gonna keep doing this?” Leonard asked as Sara sat next to him on the sofa, watching Thor on the TV. She was eating pop corn that of course Leonard knew how to make perfectly and she turned to look at him.

“Doing what?” She questioned, pausing the movie and removing her outstretched legs from his lap.

“Pretending. Acting like nothing happened between us.” Sara sucked a breath; quite shocked from Leonard’s straight forwardness. After the kiss they shared, no one had said anything as Sara ran off; breaking the kiss that she initiated in the first place.

“I never expected you to be the one to talk about feelings.”

“I had to, since you decided to lobotomize yourself and act like we never kissed. Now what the hell do you want from me, Lance?”

“Leonard, I…” Sara trailed off, fresh tears welling up on her eyes. “After I left Starling City and I came here, I made a promise to myself. To not get attached. Because the last time I felt something that could have been love, I ended up hurting both Nyssa and myself. And then I met you and you… you literally saved my life and I’ll always be grateful to you.”

“You don’t have to hang out with me or feel guilty about not reincorporating my feelings for you because I saved your life, Sara.”

“Shut up and let me finish, okay?” Leonard nodded and crossed his arms in front of his chest. “What I was trying to tell you this whole time is that I’m scared. I’m scared because I met you and despite everything I did, I still fell for you, Leonard. And now I’m feeling things that I have never felt before and I don’t wanna screw this up like I always do.” Leonard looked at her; his thumbs wiping the few tears that had rolled down her cheeks.

“Sara…” He breathed as Sara pulled his to a tight embrace with her hands wrapped tightly around him. Somehow that was much more intimate than a kiss… a sign of comfort and familiarity and at the same time… a sign that everything had changed.

“I feel it too, Len… I feel it too.”

“Lisa!” Sara called out as Lisa Snart walked inside Mick’s and Leonard’s apartment; a bottle of wine in hand.

“Sara, hey you’re here too!” Lisa squealed and pulled the petite blonde in for a hug. Sara was still in her black skinny jeans and sweater but she had applied some burgundy lipstick and let her curled hair loose for the occasion. “You’ve been back for almost a week and I haven’t seen you at all. So glad you came tonight.”

Sara had been spending most of her time with Iris at the hospital and at home and when she wasn’t, she was either protecting the citizens of Central… or being a normal college student. Which left not much time to spend with Leonard or at his apartment and especially with the awkwardness after their kiss. But now… things were going to be different. She smiled to herself, something that of course didn’t go unnoticed by the younger Snart, who lifted her eyebrows but didn’t say anything.

“Ah, she has booze!” Mick said as he walked up to Lisa and groaned upon seeing it was wine. “Wine? What are we? Lords?”

“I brought whiskey.” Sara told him with a smirk and Mick headed to the liquor cabinet immediately; grunting at the expensive brand Sara had chosen to purchase.

Leonard walked on the living room/kitchen a few minutes later, freshly showered and dressed with a pair of black pants and a black sweater; stopping for a moment upon seeing what was happening on his home. Sara and Lisa were setting plates on the dining table and Mick was putting take-out chicken and other food like potatoes and salad on platters. The two women were laughing and joking around and smiled as they saw him approaching.

“Glad you could make it, sis.” Leonard said just as Lisa pulled him in for a quick hug before resuming setting the table. “Do you need any help?”

“We are… done! Mick, are you done with the food?” Lisa asked and the broad man grunted in agreement; carrying the food to the table and placing them with the help of Leonard.

“Okay, so are we supposed to make a toast now or something like that?” Sara questioned as Mick handed her the potato salad back. They all instinctively turned to look at Leonard who lifted his shoulders, not knowing what to say. Growing up, again, he didn’t have the chance to have a nice dinner in a warm home with people he cared about. So being asked to make a toast… it felt odd. He looked at Mick; searching for some back up in his best friend.

“Don’t look at me, I ain’t making a toast.” Said Mick and sipped some of his whiskey as Leonard cleared his throat.

“Uhm, well… This year sucked. But we’ve had worse, so I won’t complain.” Leonard stated and his sister smiled at him sadly. “Despite all the back-stabbers and the arrests…” Mick lifted his eyebrows at that, remembering the shitty weeks on Iron Heights. “We earned a lot of cash and we met new people. So yeah, this year was good… and may the next one be much better.”

They all clinked their glasses and the night passed quickly, filled with laughter and stories about heists gone wrong and soon it was almost midnight and the four of them were sitting on the balcony; looking at the city ahead of them.

Sara sat next to Leonard with her hand placed softly above his own, almost without realizing it and Lisa sat next to Mick; curled up on her chair and pretty buzzed from all of the drinking and then the champagne that Leonard had also bought and they decided to drink before it was midnight. Badd idea.

“Saraaa, what time is it?” She groaned and leaned her head back on the chair. The blonde looked at her phone before pointing it at Lisa. “Yayyy, okay one minute! Lenny, Lenny are you asleep?”

“Even if I wanted to…”

“Oh oh let’s do a countdown!” The brunette squealed as Mick glared at her. Somehow drunken Lisa was more childish than Lisa when she was actually a kid. “Okay, 5… 4… 3… 2… 1… Happy New Year… Oh my gosh!” She gasped upon seeing Sara and Leonard, lips locked and lost in their kiss, not even paying attention to both of the other shocked adults. After the initial shock, Mick started smirking finally happy that the two of them got their heads out of their asses.

“Happy new year guys.” Sara said and Leonard smiled at her; thinking that for once the year that was starting was going to be a good one. A very good one.

#sara lance #leonard snart #lisa snart #mick rory #sara x leonard #captain canary #white canary x captain cold #dc's legends of tomorrow #the flash #rewritten cc #the crook to my assasin fics #cc fic

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amazinganxietyisnotonfire-blog · 7 years

Text

trapped behind those pretty blue eyes

CHAPTER TWO

<< chapter one | chapter three >>

AO3 LINK

Summary: Dan recalls Phil’s spiral down into a psychotic fit. I tried to make this as brutally honest as possible but there’ll be more fluff in later chapters.

Quote: I feel like such an imposter. I've felt like that so many times since I started youtube but now it's worse than ever. Now not only am I pretending to be funny, smart and interesting enough to deserve the attention of six million subscribers but I'm also caught not being adult enough or responsible or I don't know, something enough to be able to take care of Phil during the one time he couldn't take care of himself.

Genre: heavy angst

Word count: 2069

Triggers: mental illness, schizophrenia (implied), near death, suicide attempt (kind of, not really), kissing, vomit, termites, hallucinations

Hello Internet,

I haven't posted any real danisnotonfire videos over the past two weeks but I think that's fair, considering. Phil comes home tomorrow. This is the first time I've really tried to form any cohesive thoughts but I do have a bunch of little clips that I filmed in minute or two spurts while everything was happening. I guess I'll string those together rather than have to reiterate everything I said. I know it's unprofessional but I've spent so much time trying to be mature and in control recently that I don't want to make a neat video, okay?

- - - wednesday Hello Internet

I tried to visit Phil today but he was in too much of a drugged up stupor for me to really talk to him. His left wrist was bandaged where they say he bit at his wrist hard enough to make it bleed, muttering something about letting them out. They sedated him and wrapped up his wrist. It hurt to see that even here he could get hurt. What was even more disturbing was remembering how afraid Phil is of blood. I can't imagine what horrors exist in his mind that made biting his damn wrist open seem like his only option.

They're starting him on clozapine. It's an atypical antipsychotic, which got explained to me really slowly. I could feel the doctor trying to think about how she could break it down for the 6'3 man-child dressed in black skinny jeans with tear rimmed eyes standing in front of her. I could tell she thought I was hysterical, which was slightly true, but I still wanted to try to understand everything. Since now I'm in charge of Phil's destiny or whatever I had to sign off that they could basically give him any medicine they thought he needed.

I feel like such an imposter. I've felt like that so many times since I started youtube but now it's worse than ever. Now not only am I pretending to be funny, smart and interesting enough to deserve the attention of six million subscribers but I'm also caught not being adult enough or responsible or I don't know, something enough to be able to take care of Phil during the one time he couldn't take care of himself. This is nothing like his overdramatic colds where I just have to make him tea. I don't have anything to compare this to. The doctor and my mirror can see right through me, I'm just hoping the sedatives blur Phil's mind enough to think that I'm worthy of being in charge of his care.

PJ came over and cleaned the kitchen for me then made me eat some soup. He just left. I think I'm going to try not to dream about the way that the white bandage on his wrist was ever so slightly tinted pink even through all the cloth.

- - - thursday Hello Internet,

When I went into the hospital Phil freaked out. I'd never seen the blue in his eyes look as stony as it did there, with his face contorted into the type of rage that I never dreamed of associating with Phil. I don't know why he was so angry at me, or what he saw me as. I don't understand any of this but he screamed at me to fucking go back to hell. I can count the amount of times I've heard Phil say fuck on two hands and one of them was during a tongue twister that kind of tricks you into saying it and at least six of the others were bedroom related.

It's kind of a joke, me trying to get Phil to swear. I guess I win. He's swearing. I just never imagined Phil could be like this. After a while of him shouting they made me leave. I don't know if I wanted to stay or not. I wanted to be there for Phil, yes of course, but seeing him so angry with me for something that I can't even begin to understand made me nauseous.

I've been on tumblr all evening, trying to distract myself. First I read over all the information packets on psychotic episodes that they gave me but then I just wanted to not think. It didn't really work but I didn't have another choice. Anyways I'm going to try to sleep.

- - - friday I'm drunk.

Oh yeah, Hello Internet,

I'm drunk.

We had some tequila and I needed it to be able to think about today.

I thought I was nauseous yesterday but that was nothing compared to today.

Phil hid behind his bed when I came into his dorm there. I tried to say hi and he just–

He yelped and shook and begged me not to touch him. I ran out of the room. I couldn't stay there. I know that this is so much worse for him than it is for me but that doesn't help me keep any food down. Watching someone that you love as much as I love Phil in this much pain, and to think that you're causing it is indescribable.

I want to say that I'm going back purely for Phil but I don't know, I just don't know. I was always the selfish one, wasn't I?

- - - saturday Hello Internet,

I went to visit Phil today, obviously. He seemed to recognize me at first and dragged me into his room. I was so excited that he was excited to see me, as selfish as that is, so I just let him prattle on about how the doctors here are trying to poison him. I couldn't even argue with him because I didn't want him to be mad at me. We talked for the entire hour I was allowed to be there. Well, more like he talked and I tried to resist jumping over the table and trying to hold him until the world fixes itself.

I just want to hold onto him, but I know that he's too skittish and scared and I tried to touch his forearm and he jumped so hugging is out of the question. He used to love hugs, you should have seen him once the cameras stopped rolling, he's the sweetest, most huggable person there is. Or he was? I don't know. I don't want to admit that my Phil is gone but I can't find him either.

- - - sunday Hello Internet,

I wasn't allowed to visit him today so Louise dragged me out to see a movie. It was nice, but I can't help but feel guilty for enjoying something when Phil is stuck in that awful place with those awful misfirings in his amazing brain. I know this isn't fair, and by I know I mean Louise scolded me for half an hour about being too hard on myself but I don't know.

Anyways.

- - - monday Hello Internet,

The clozapine worked! Sort of.

When I went to see Phil he was coherent. He told me he loved me. He then tried to stand up, to hug me no less, and passed out. Apparently, the medicine can make you extremely dizzy. Normally they would keep him on this anyways, at least until they could switch him to something else, but once he hit the ground he started convulsing and they realized that he was having a really dangerous reaction. Instead of fixing his brain it started causing seizures, so they had to take him off.

It hurts so much knowing that he had a moment of clarity and I'm the one signing the damn paper telling them that, no, I want them to hurl him back into that terrifying place he tried so hard to escape from. The doctors told me that it was the right thing to do, but still. I'm sending him back into that terrifying place.

- - - friday They switched to risperidone on tuesday and I've been allowed to stay for longer visits, so I haven't been making these little updates every day. I feel like I'm flying. He's not perfect, to be completely honest he looks empty, but empty is better than afraid. Right? He's telling the doctors that he feels safe and I know he's not back yet, but his wrist is only a scar now and he's not shaking with fear. He's okay, or he's becoming okay. I don't know, but he doesn't look so scared and he recognizes me. He's a little cold, but the doctors say if he stays stable we can add some antidepressants.

I'm still worried about him but I want him stable and if they say that this is stable then it's good enough for me. And he can come home tomorrow!

- - - monday Phil's asleep. There's something wrong with him. He hardly talks. He's functioning so well, so the doctors are telling me that nothing is wrong and I don't want to argue. He just looks like someone's lobotomized him. It's eery, but none of the doctors will listen to me saying that something's wrong because he's doing all the things that he needs to do, checking off all the little boxes on their charts, but something is very wrong.

- - - wednesday Phil's in the hospital again. He tried to slit his fucking wrists. He's physically fine now, I found him before he got too far so he's back in the psychiatric hospital. Apparently, the voices are still there. I'm so angry that no one listened to me and now he has six stitches in his arm. Now the doctor explained to me that the vacant looks were probably from the "mask face" side effects from risperidone and that picking up on that could have clued us in on Phil's reaction.

He kept talking but that was where I stopped listening.

Clued us in.

I knew and he wouldn't listen to me. I should have fought, Phil deserves someone to fight for him.

- - - thursday Now he's on a mix of seroquel for the disease that they're now comfortable calling schizophrenia, (I didn't even have time to be upset about that scary diagnosis when everything was already so scary), and prozac for depression and anxiety. I protested that before this Phil wasn't depressed but a nice nurse explained to me that antidepressants are often used as a stepping stone for schizophrenic patients and once they stabilize and start to recover some of them can be taken off of everything but the antipsychotics.

I don't understand how the old nurse, Leah, can be so sweet and optimistic. It seems like being around sick, terrified people and their upset, terrified families would suck the life out of you but she's been amazing since Phil first came in. I couldn't imagine ever wanting to stay in this place. I still pray, not even to god but just to the universe I guess, that this was all a bad dream and that Phil would just kiss me awake or trip in the kitchen so I could come catch him stealing my goddamn cereal.

But until then we have to learn how to survive because there's no other option. That was what Leah told me when I'd started sobbing while asking her why she came back and I guess it's true. Whenever something horrible happens you just learn to live with the unimaginable. That's what I'm trying to do here.

- - - monday Today is the first day I've visited Phil since thursday. Friday they said he was still adjusting to the withdrawals and that it would be better for me to leave but then on saturday I came in and he was in group! I never thought I would be this proud of Phil for sitting in a room playing an empathy game with ten other hospital patients but I'm so proud. Usually, he would panic part way through or just refuse to go.

Today when I visited him he seemed the most normal that I'd seen him for months. He was still anxious but he complained about the food and asked about his houseplants. I caught him watching something behind me intently but he didn't freak out about it.

Leah told me later, after the doctor gave me a bullshit answer, that he might still experience these hallucinations for a little while but him learning that they weren't real and not reacting to them was incredibly important. She explained to me that recovering was going to be more than just medication and gave me a few more links to read up on.

- - - tuesday Phil is coming home tomorrow! This time, even if he still has symptoms, he seems like himself. It's hard, for me at least guys, not to be cynical but this time feels different. I'm obviously nervous but I'm so excited to be able to interact with him without nurses doing their safety checks every ten minutes. I've definitely learned that hospitals are helpful but I can't imagine anyone goes back to feeling completely normal there.

I haven't felt at peace for months now and I still don't, at all really. I don't actually have a great way to end that sentence. I normally edit out those types of lines or reshoot but I haven't been editing these so I guess I'll just say, I'm not at peace but at least he's coming home.

Thank you so much for reading! This narrative is really close to my heart and based off of real experiences and I think it’s important to show mental illness without romanticizing it too much. That’s what I really tried to do here.

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riksthoughts · 7 years

Quote

Kick...push....kick...push. coast.. Away from you Even though that was months ago Feels like yesterday..hearts never get old I won't lie and act like I don't miss you Remember the times you'd even let me kiss you But the past is that for a reason You kept me down Chapter changed onto new And i just ripped you out... But I needed to You kept me blue Days on end wondering, thinking What could I have really done to you? Not to want to try one and see all that can be seen All that shit you used to say and you know that i hated You just played the part of a user And I was being manipulated As I skate my problems away Push you past with this kick to the concrete Steady both feet on this board of sanity And glide to the freedom of you without me I never wanted it to be like this Have a day come like this Where WE become... no became strangers once again I really did think you'd be here till the end No I don't know you, and I don't think I ever will again Used to call you more than a friend To the nights we would be on the phone saying nothing at all To the a times I'd watch you lay beside me and you wouldn't even know it Dreaming whatever dream your having And mine was right in front of me How time changes things and people How time makes you see the real person Eyes glazed over Love struck Blind No chances taken But still my heart was breaking Leading on leads to left emotions that lead to nothing Leaving myself yearning for something... else I need to get you out Lobotomize the pieces of you out my head Painful pangs Leaving empty spots Memories in time So as I say farewell to you Forever....

Thoughts of my mind

#poetry #love #heartbreak #skate #nostalgia #goodbye

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possessive-venting-suggestions · 7 years

Text

Hey quick updates: Johann hasn't been on in 35 days, I've been one shitty thing away from killing myself, bucket and I started a comp tf2 team uhhh that's about it let's all point and laugh at this idiot I got into kuro discourse with

A blog entirely about kuroshitsuji and the wonderful ship of Ciel and Lizzy

Hate is not allowed here

Lizzy is our precious sunshine goddess and no one should hurt her

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Chapter 132 and “the spare” comment

So people are flipping the fuck out over the fact that a) Frances called our!Ciel “the spare” and b) Vincent taking it all in stride, joking they may as well give up the Watchdog title should our!Ciel find himself at the Phantomhive helm. Was it particularly tasteful of them to address our!Ciel in such a blasé, brusque fashion? No. Did they mean it maliciously? No, no they didn’t. They don’t have the gift of hindsight that we as readers do. To them our!Ciel was a young, sickly child who couldn’t even go outside for fear of triggering an asthma attack—who couldn’t even have fencing lessons with Frances because of his weak constitution. (Please note I am NOT disparaging our!Ciel, but even the most devoted Kuro fan will have to recognize this actuality—our!Ciel is not the most robust child out there, as exemplified in canon by the Circus and Campania arcs.)

Furthermore, being the Queen’s Watchdog means executing orders that are both ruthless and necessary. We now know that our!Ciel can behave in such a fashion but back then when the twins were 7, 8 years old? Remember earlier in chapter 132 when Vincent took the twins to inspect the Phantomhive domain? The first thing real!Ciel says after Vincent finishes explaining the duty of a lord is that these tenants will need incentives to keep working the land—a hardline, pragmatic insight befitting a future earl. Yet our!Ciel, once he learns that a lord must “maintain his estate so tenants can be free to devote themselves to their work” worries about keeping everyone satisfied (granting their “wishes”) before wondering how many tenants live on the land. There is a startling difference between the twins in terms of mindset—real!Ciel thinks like an efficient, practical man of business while our!Ciel shows more compassion and thoughtfulness.

A more empathic, gentle approach.

…But these are the exact same sentiments that will get you killed if you’re the Queen’s Watchdog. To Vincent (and probably Frances, since she is Vincent’s sister and he has entrusted her with the training of his heir), our!Ciel probably seems far too softhearted and humane to ever fit the merciless, cutthroat role of Earl Phantomhive. I mean can you really blame Vincent? All his life (up until the fire) our!Ciel has been sweet, caring, obedient, and delicate—he’s shy around strangers, lacks the extroverted charm of his older brother, and his greatest dream is to open a toy shop so he can give joy to other young children.

Does this really sound like the type of kid who could one day kill with impunity, watch others bleed to death before him, and burn down an entire mansion filled with lobotomized children? Vincent and Frances are not trying to be spiteful, cruel, or demeaning—they’ve simply observed the twins, recognized their strengths and weaknesses, and are now discussing the very real possibility of what would happen if real!Ciel were to die. Morbid? Yes. But this was 19th century, lifespans were short and Vincent’s occupation as the Queen’s Watchdog leaves no room for error.

And, in a strange, inconspicuous way, Vincent may also be trying to protect our!Ciel. We know Queen Victoria is a dangerous individual not prone to softer emotions of forgiveness or understanding (i.e. Murder arc) and Vincent, who’s had direct contact with Victoria (thus giving him a chance to observe, catalogue, and analyze her in person), knows that the Phantomhives are disposable tools of the crown. If one of his sons were to mess up then they’d be eradicated and mercy—that odd, human concept—wouldn’t even be considered.

We as readers know our!Ciel is capable—probably more so than real!Ciel—but three years ago, when happiness was still possible and the Phantomhive twins were devoted to one another? The wickedness of what will one day come to pass seems not only farfetched but cruel—for why would you ever force a child like our!Ciel to abandon his innocence in favor of pitiless indifference and demonic power? We cannot fault Vincent and Frances for speaking of our!Ciel in those terms (“the spare”) because, in many ways, Vincent and Frances were also right. Undertaker explicitly says in the Weston arc that our!Ciel is different from his ancestors—a fact that our!Ciel proved when he rescued Joanne Harcourt even though such a task was both unnecessary and foolish. He put his life on the line to rescue Lizzy even though it meant drowning in the cold Atlantic current. Heck he stared death in the face with Madam Red, in the throes of anger, grief, and insanity was ready to stab him to death and he ordered Sebastian not to hurt his aunt.

Even after going through hell and back, there is still compassion inside our eyepatch wearing protagonist, he is still capable of pity, sentiment, and warmth. Our!Ciel has elevated himself beyond the scope of what his father and aunt thought possible, he has achieved momentous triumphs and committed unspeakable acts of horror but we CANNOT judge Vincent and Frances’s comments—made more than 3+ years ago—as hateful or heartless. In their eyes, they were assessing the shy, soft-spoken younger twin—not the tenacious, sharp-tongued, unflinchingly clever Queen’s Watchdog we know and admire.

199 notes | 12:22am 22 Sep 2017 Tagged: #vincent phantomhive #frances midford #our!ciel#real!ciel #ciel phantomhive #sebastian michaelis #elizabeth midford #madam red #joanne harcourt #chapter 132 #spoilers #in defense of papa watchdog and our badass sword queen#please be kind guys #understand where they're coming from #THEY ARE NOT TRYING TO BE MALICIOUS VILE CRUEL OR HATEFUL #they don't have the gift of hindsight that we do#mod Nina

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your-lovers-and-drifters said: I really don’t think “the spare” comment was meant to connote inferiority. It’s just the way high society/nobility operated. To acknowledge one’s second son as “the spare” wasn’t seen as derogatory—it was just a fact of aristocratic life. To us, it may look like Vincent and Frances were belittling our!Ciel but this appellation of birthright was just a product of patrician privilege. @asthmaticastre @fraternaltwin-andidiots - mod Nina

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Unfortunately we just have to live with all this extra nonsense.

Okay, so first of all, let's just point and laugh at this blithering Morton who thinks that """" just cause they meant well makes it okay""" (read in the most snotty voice possible) and that "oh it was just a fact of life" and "its pokay, they didn't realize that he would grow up to be the way he is!!!"

Like, you stupid motherfucker! PH my god! The issue isn't did they mean to hurt him, or they meant well, or it was true, its that THEY SAID SOMETHING SO FUCKING HORRIBLE ABOUT A CHILD. A CHILD. at the risk of using some kinda logical galaxy, my mom doesn't "" mean"" to hurt me by insulting my friends and yet! Its still a shitty thing to do!! The issue! Isn't if they're right or not, they're still treating a child like shit! Holy FUCK

#suicide tw #like.... It was also okay to beat your wife in Victorian times #i don't see anyone defending that shit #:/

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