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zykamiliah · 2 months

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Hey, sorry to bother you, but I've been seeing something in the fandom that kind of confuses me, so I'm leaving this ask to my favorite svsss blogs.

I've been trying to get more into Shen Jiu's character, as he is pretty interesting and arguably a fan favorite, and I've noticed that, so far of the fanfics I've read, he is more often than not depicted as a good teacher. A harsh one, but still good? Or not terrible?

One that likes teaching, is involved with his students, taking the little of what we've seen of Shen Yuan's teaching methods and just, giving them a twist, "improving" them even sometimes.

Often it ends up being a show of how Shen Yuan was clumsy, not that good of a teacher (or of a Shen Qingqiu) and I'm... Kind of confused by this trend? Like, is it rooted in canon? Obviously this is still more interesting to read than the "SJ is just a tsundere that never did anything wrong ever" thing, but it feels kind of similar.

I cannot imagine a character as genuinely bitter and angry as Shen Jiu enjoying being a teacher, having a nurturing bone in his body or even being hands on in the teaching of his disciples, several of which he literally bullied out of his peak. But maybe it's just me and I'm wrong?

Was Shen Jiu a good teacher?

I guess I'm just curious of where it comes from. I like Shen Yuan's character, and it often feels like people take Shen Jiu's to show how bad at everything SY is, even if it isn't consistent with SJ's character and often lack nuances, in my opinion.

(Or even if the story claims loving SY while also stripping him away of everything that makes him interesting other than his obliviousness, but that's a whole other thing.)

Sorry again, and I also apologize for the long ask, I'd just figured you or someone that follows you might have an answer.

(Also, I get that fandoms gotta fandom, and I'm not saying people shouldn't write it or anything, I may be a strickler for canon but I'm not the police. Write what you want. I just wonder where it comes from, as I figure that knowing its origins might help me in the future, but I promise I'm not trying to start discourse or anything, so I hope I've made my point clear enough without offending anyone.)

hello!! :DD

well sj being ooc in fics is a common thing by now. people tend to portray him softer than he's in canon, to the point it sometimes turns his whole character upside down. in extreme cases, you'll be dealing with a bitter, more tsundere version of sy with sj's backstory, which is secretly what many people want IMO lol often this people also perceive sy as an incompetent dumb nerd that only knows about monster lore and has no other skills or abilities aside from that-- essentially, they fall for the unreliable narrator's trap of believing every lie he tells about himself.

it's never outright stated, but sj didn't like children, so is fair to assume he didn't like teaching or caring for them either. taking into account qing jing peak's toxic atmosphere pre sy's transmigration, AND the fact that sj was paranoid about being overthrown since he hadn't developed a golden core even after becoming a peak lord and taking lbh in, I don't think he'd be interested in teaching anyone anything. in a lot of cultivation novels, disciples are just given manuals and left to self-study them (like he let lbh use the fake manual, expecting lbh would die from using it. haha. such a good teacher!). this could be the case. aside from that, I don't personally think sj would want to provide any kid guidance. and that's not mentioning how he allowed and enabled bullying, targeted talented disciples, and overall was more worried about his own cultivation and survival and reputation than other things or people.

so where this fanon sj comes from? I'm not sure, really, but I think some people just want a version of him that's palatable AND defensible, like my friend furby says, a declawed sj that's just a poor misunderstood meowmeow who deep inside is secretly good and nice. it's a thing that people who struggle with liking "villainous" or "morally bad" characters do: twisting the narrative around to justify this character's actions. It doesn't help that he's SO complicated, and people who have very black-and-white thinking struggle to place him in either side of the spectrum-- it's the problem mxtx outlined through sqh and sqq's voices

ch.14 house arrest

ch.19 shen jiu

really, the fandom has just proved mxtx's point xD

anyway, there's a lot of misconceptions about sj. there are some pretty wild theories around. some fans also treat his abuse as The Worst Abuse in comparison to the Child Abuse he did, because of the (unconfirmed) hints that sj was sexually assaulted by qiu jianluo, as if SA is the worst kind of abuse and child abuse falls back on the tier-list ¯_(ツ)_/¯ because obviously anything that involves sex in inherently worse, apparently

in other cases, people are simply more familiar with the fanon version of the characters, and that's who they portray in their writing. after all, many people read the novel once and then go on to read dozen of fics; it's normal the fanon sticks more on the brain than canon (not judging! it happens to me as well lol) and those fanon versions are more popular because, as i said, this version of sj is more morally palatable (and bland and less fun ┐(︶▽︶)┌)

thank you for the ask!! :DDDD ❤️❤️❤️ i love receiving asks~

#svsss #svsss meta #shen jiu #original shen qingqiu #zykamiliah-svsss #ask zy

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the-unrelated-theorist · 1 year

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...but nobody came.

Man. So many characters in these games have major abandonment issues.

Flowey with "nobody came", which the Echo Flower dialogue confirms is him speaking from experience, feeling like Toriel forgot all about him, or worse, was glad to be rid of him.

Spade King saying the Lightners left the Darkners behind and forgot all about them.

Jevil being locked up and having no one to play with.

Spamton saying he was left to rot at the bottom of a dumpster.

Susie telling Kris in the "New Girl" post that someday someone would take Kris away and Toriel would forget all about them, or even be glad to be rid of them. Susie is definitely transferring her experiences onto Kris.

We don't know what Kris said to Susie in "New Girl", but one theory is "I know," or "Good." While this is only a fan theory (and one I don't agree with), it is worth noting that "...but nobody came" also appears in Snowgrave Spamton Neo whenever Kris calls for help.

Gaster was lost in the void, shattered across space and time. And now no one remembers him, except for his followers, who can't even speak about him directly without fear. (I'm including Jevil and Spamton as Gaster followers- they certainly came in contact with him.) This is just my own headcanon, but I often imagine Gaster waking up in the void, and his first thoughts being, "Where am I? It's so dark, and so cold," screaming, crying, begging for help... but nobody came.

For each of these characters, even if the exact dialogue isn't used, they all have an aura about them of "...but nobody came." All of them have at some point felt alone, trapped, and helpless, and nobody came to their rescue. Granted, this hasn't been positively confirmed for Susie, but given that she almost quotes Flowey when she screams at Kris, it's easy to deduce that she also had a "...but nobody came" time in her life.

And so many other characters face rejection or abandonment, as well. Toriel divorced Asgore in both timelines, leaving him desperate to see his children and his wife again. Shyren lost her voice when Shyra fell down. Maddie and Mettaton both ran off to fuse with their own bodies, leaving Napstablook alone. No one can remember Ruins Dummy's name. Mettaton was Alphys' friend until he became a big... heh, sorry, I almost said "big shot" (fitting, tho, isn't it?). So Alphys felt abandoned until she met Undyne... and then if you kill Undyne, Alphys disappears, apparently having committed suicide. Snowy left home because his mother fell down and his father hated his jokes, so Snowy felt abandoned. Ralsei is described as "the lonely prince." All of the Darkners feel abandoned by the Lightners. Queen divorced Spade King because he neglected her. Spade King pushes Lancer away- or, possibly, outright abuses him- so Lancer calls Rouxls his "Lesser Dad," even though Rouxls largely pushes him away, as well. Papyrus...

Papyrus...

"Forgettable." Still striving for a double-digit follower count on Undernet. Can't get into the Royal Guard. Works himself to the bone but can't get any recognition, much less a friend. May have "left home due to happiness." And most important, has a brother who is willing to avenge his death.

Everyone loves Papyrus. Everyone knows his name. More people talk about Papyrus than about his brother. holidaygirl1225 is asking everyone if they know how to find his egg again. Undyne is Papyrus' best friend. Alphys thinks his posts on Undernet are hilarious. The biggest differences in the ending for neutral runs fixate on whether you spared him or killed him. He even becomes king if he's the only one left alive. Why does Chara call him "Forgettable"? Why does he not think he has any friends? It's honestly a bit like Susie saying, "Why would anybody really wanna be my friend, anyway?" Except that he never lets himself say exactly that- but his whole attitude of "I can't make any friends, I have to work hard for people to like me" says it all.

It's like he does have an abandonment issue, but he's not giving in to it. Did he... Was he... was sans the only one who ever came when he called? Is that why these two are inseparable?

Much as I would like to leave this essay on this dramatic note about everyone's favorite skeleton, I also want to mention Dess. Most people believe that Dess is the one singing, "Don't forget, I'm with you in the dark." This feels like the exact opposite of "...but nobody came." How is she holding onto hope? Even though a lot of people miss her, nobody's looking for her anymore. They've all moved on. All except... her sister. Can Dess see Noelle searching for her? Who exactly is with Dess in the dark, anyway? The player, I presume, but could it be someone else?

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bluebunnyears-08 · 1 year

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How Prime Has The Potential To Be A Great Psychological/Lovecraft Horror

I know, I know, all of you are probably looking at this thinking I lost my mind.

But let me explain and show you how it could be a horrifying experience.

First, all of you are probably commenting on how Sonic is a family friendly franchise, but that doesn't necessarily mean EVERY media of Sonic SHOULD be this way. There are some family friendly franchises with mature and more serious spin-offs or adaptations.

So Prime can be a good start to deviating from it's other media's. But I'll get to that later, I should probably explain how it can be, and in a way is, a psychological and Lovecraft horror, more than just another cartoon. At least to me.

1. (Psychological) Exploring The Character's Emotional Trauma and Internal Conflicts Is a Different Approach to Most Sonic Medias

While most Sonic media's focus on action and saving the day, Prime takes a different approach. Instead of just being action and "Sonic saving the day", Sonic completely breaks his home, unintentionally shattering everything, including his friends. Shadow is also inadvertently dragged along, using a Chaos Emerald to save himself from the blast, but ending up trapped in the void.

If the variants being shards of the main characters is true, then Prime is working to deconstruct the characters, but some variants caught my eyes. There's Rusty, a robotized Amy, which sure, that's cool, but remember Amy's first known introduction in the Sonic CD? I only remember some parts, but wasn't Amy kidnapped by metal Sonic to be robotized or something? Another obvious variant is Nine, who was basically abused for being different, only this time Sonic wasn't there to help him? And Dread, a greedy Knuckles, kinda reminding me of how Knuckles was tricked by Eggman so the Doc could steal the master emerald?

Something just seems a bit more about these variants.

1. (Lovecraft) The Variants Situation if The Shard Theory Is True

If the Shard theory is true, then the variants existence is a nightmare.

Imagine having flesh and bone, imagine having thoughts of your own, imagine having a backstory of your own; only for it to be revealed that everything, your body, your thoughts, your experiences; your existence, to be a mistake. You weren't supposed to exist, and if the putting it back together = Shattered Space disappears is true, then you're doomed to die.

Doomed be mashed together with other shards, to be pieced together into someone you don't know, and will never meet. Your very existence is a lie, something that needs to be fixed with your death.

Yeah...not a pretty picture, is it?

2. (Psychological) Sonic's Emotional Turmoil

Sonic suffers a lot in this show. No, I don't mean the physical pain, that's a gag, I'm referring to the emotional suffering, which is very much there.

Sonic is horrified by these events; breaking his home, shattering everyone he loved and cared for, having to experience hatred, scorn, and hostility from those who look so much like his friends; from people who don't recognize him, and having to witness or hear about his friends suffering, being unable to really do anything about it without being met with apprehension.

He's clearly not enjoying any of this, or having any fun, at all.

2. (Lovecraft) The Paradox Prism Is Unsettling Itself

What is the Prism?

We know it's powerful as hell, being able to rip apart reality, and possibly time, and is capable of creating new spaces. But what else is it capable of? Where did it come from? Why is it here beneath the Green Hills Bedrock?

Whatever it is, it's the one in control after Sonic breaks it, ripping apart the world, throwing Sonic through dimensions, trapping Shadow in the void, and even responding to certain contacts.

It's glow almost seems like it calling, beckoning for someone to find it, to use it, to break it.

3. (Psychological) Shadow In The Void

How is Shadow doing in this void?

All memes aside, it's clear he isn't taking everything so well. As when he first makes contact with Sonic, he sounds despondent and absolutely devastated, stating: "It's broken! It's all broken!". His voice is slightly shaky when he does so too. But in his final contact with Sonic, is him furious and violent.

From his first contact to his last furious one, Shadow's mental state isn't exactly stable. Being stuck in the void doesn't help anything either. Some development happened to Shadow off screen, one I really hope we'll see.

Yeah, Shadow is not having a great time either. But development can never be fast, it takes time, which brings my next theory in mind below.

3. (Lovecraft) The Void

Ending up in the void is something I'd choose death over. Mainly because, when thinking about it, it's something nobody would wish on their worst enemy. Which makes Shadow being there so much harsher.

The void is an empty space, nothing but shards surrounding you, you're alone, with nobody to talk to. You're alone with your thoughts. But the scariest thing would be how long it must seem.

From what we've seen so far, time runs differently in the Shattered Space, the void can't be any different. It could've been years to Shadow, but time doesn't seem to run in the void, only in the Shattered Spaces. If anything time seems to pause, or just stop working in the void. It doesn't exist there.

Shadow definitely isn't having fun, especially when you consider his alliance with Rouge and Omega, and even worse, his promise to Maria to keep the world safe.

4. (Psychological) Nine Being A Part Of Tails Says Something About All Of Us

One of the things talked about a lot is how Nine, if the shard theory is true, was a part of Tails to begin with. This bitter, jaded, violent, desperate, traumatized, in pain child was a part of the happy, jolly fox we all know and love.

But, if the theory is true, Nine having been a part of Tails all along speaks about how there's a hidden side in all of us. All of that bitterness, cruelty, selfishness, trauma, denial, desperateness, and love/touch starved hope is in all of us. But we try to deny, to hide, to avoid acknowledging it, which only makes it never go away, or makes it worse.

It isn't just Tails that denies it though, which is a whole other thing of itself...

4. (Lovecraft) They Can't Be By Each Other's Side, Both Are Doomed To Be Alone In Some Way

One of the saddest truths about Prime is that Nine and Sonic can't be by each other's side, they can't be there for each other: no matter how much they don't want to be, they have to be alone. Sonic is from a universe that's now destroyed, thrust into the remains of his actions face-first, he can't connect with these variants of his friends, and is emotionally alone.

Nine is just a part of the universe Sonic can't stay in, so there's no chance of them ever staying by each other's side, he's alone in both ways.

The universe, the shards won't allow it, thrusting Sonic from Nine via shard or by Sonic himself. Not to mention the inevitable fate that Nine has to face along with his fellow variants.

Their entire relationship is a world of inevitable pain.

5. (Psychological) The Dark Matter, Symbolism, And Complex Themes Of Prime

There's no denying it, at its core, with the sprinkled moments of unease and signs of deeper depths in the first batch, so far Prime's setting up a dark story, one filled with harsh tragedy. Pretty much every character suffers and is going to suffer even more in the second batch, the aspects of Sonic that save the day, Friendship and Hope is actually deconstructed in this show, showing how friendship can become a means of escapism and can't really save the day, and how hope can instead damage someone to denial.

Sonic is without his friends here and the friends he made out of the variants is going to be shattered once they find out the truth, so friendship can't be used, and his hopes to fix the world are...almost desperate, like he doesn't want to acknowledge that maybe it can't be fixed.

Another thing is that Prime actually has a lot of symbolism hidden in it. The Grim being a literal landscape of escapism, Nine's nine tails, the variants themselves being representations of different traits, the palm tree being a symbol of desperate hope, and more.

The final thing is the early complex themes in the show.

The inevitable fact that the variants has to die to restore the world is a very grim one, but it shows how painfully insignificant and meaningless they are in the grand scheme of things. They’re just shards that need to come together. That’s the universe for ya.

The use of "Man vs. Self" in this show instead of having Sonic just save the day and defeat bad guys

The exploration that there's a dark, sad, traumatized part in all of us

The need for balance in everything

The exploration of desire vs need, and most importantly:

Selfishness vs selflessness.

5. (Lovecraft) The Grim Is A Lovecraftian Horror Of Itself

The Grim is hauntingly beautiful. The sky is every color of blue, filled with stars, the ground is orange and endless, and silver crystals jut out of it, some partly buried.

Look at how small and insignificant Nine and Sonic looks here, how vast the Grim is that you can't see where it ends. It's truly an unsettling wonder. It looks unsettling and it is unsettling, not at all an ideal place to live in.

There are no trees, no water, no signs of any life. Nothing. You're alone, surrounded by absolutely nothing. The only thing there is you and your imagination.

Why isn't there any variants here? Why is it so empty? Why doesn't it end?

There's no answer except your own thoughts, speaking much louder now that there's nothing to distract you from them. You're alone, an insignificant speck in a vast world of beauty and isolation.

Paranoia would kick in, you'd think you heard something, but there's nothing there.

That's what the Grim is, it's nothing but you, there's nobody here, there's nothing here, this place never ends, it's the physical representation of isolation, of perfect escapism.

And that couldn’t be more terrifying…

#sonic prime #sonic the hedgehog #nine the fox #miles nine prower #dark #more sonic prime!#nine needs a hug #sonic needs a hug #everyone needs a hug #sonic prime analysis #horror #very long post #but worth it

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jazzthatonewriterchick · 10 months

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Here, Kitty, Kitty (18+ Fic)

Pairing: Aizawa x Black!Catgirl!Reader

Synopsis: In which you find yourself in the weirdest predicament after you’re scooped up and taken to a cat cafe after you decide to take the streets to fight some crime, and you’re adopted by your very anti-social and hot coworker Aizawa aka Eraserhead.

Story Warnings: Smutty smut, 18+ (MINORS GET AWAY), Swearing, Adult!Reader, Ear and Tail Stroking, Light Degradation, Spanking, Exhibitionism, Multiple Positions, Creampie, Unprotected PIV Sex, Facial, Scent Play, Collaring, Deepthroat, Cunnlingus, Begging, Edgeplay, Power Play, Rope Play/Shibari, Master Kink, Some Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Some Action

Disclaimer: I own none of the characters mentioned in this fic. However, as this is my writing, I do not give permission for my work to be reposted on any other sites that are not from my own accounts. Thank you!

Writer’s Note: Back from my cruise with an update! I should be finished this fic soon cuz I have about three chapters left. Imma cry. Thank you again for the love! P.S. Never go on a cruise in the summertime. That boat was CROWDED AF -Jazz

Read on AO3 here!

Other Chapters: One. Two. Three. Four. Five. Six. Seven. Eight. Nine. Ten. Eleven. Twelve. Thirteen. Fourteen. Fifteen. Sixteen. Seventeen. Eighteen. Nineteen. Twenty. Twenty-One. Twenty-Two. Twenty-Three. Twenty-Four. Twenty-Five.

*************

NINETEEN.

When Aizawa steps into his dorm that night with you curled in the crook of his elbow, the only thing he has on his mind is sleeping.

He is completely wracked with exhaustion. His bones ache, his body hurts, and he is truly feeling much older than he is. All he could think about was taking a hot shower, kissing Eri goodnight, and curling up on the couch or in his bed (whichever he feels appropriate for the night) with you on his lap while meeting with the city’s police department and the Hero’s Public Safety Commission aka HPSC. Both organizations are pretty concerned about Toyoma’s escape, as they should be.

Aizawa didn’t realize how incredibly skilled the guy is until he started fighting him down in the theatre’s basement. He especially didn't realize how hostile and dangerous Toyoma is until he attempted to kill you. He is a villain who has no moral compass and no values except surviving. With Aizawa’s experience, those are the worst type of villains.

During the meeting with the police department and the HPSC, he carefully responded to each question and explained the night as best as he could without mentioning you being a part of the mission. It was bad enough you were there and nearly faced your death. He didn’t need people as powerful and strict as police officers and HPSC members on your ass, wondering who you were and possibly even arresting you. He’d never forgive himself if anything were to happen to you or your career.

That is why he put the blame for Toyoma’s escape entirely on himself, telling the police chief and the head of the HPSC that he let his guard down for just a few seconds. “That’s all it took for Toyoma to set his trap and activate a smoke bomb,” he explained begrudgingly as he sat at the long, oak table at the HPSC headquarters. “When it cleared, Toyoma took off and disappeared into the streets. I couldn’t find him after that.”

Though the HPSC were livid (as usual when things didn't go according to plan with their heroes and made them look bad as an organization), the police chief defended Aizawa. “Eraserhead is one of your most highly-skilled pro heroes,” he argued. “If this piece of shit escaped then it's safe to say that he’s right on Eraserhead’s level and we should be very afraid of that. We need to be doing whatever we can in helping Eraser catch him; not criticize or degrade him for something that he couldn’t control.”

Aizawa appreciated that. The meeting was over by 1AM and after downing some coffee and telling Mic he could leave his dorm after babysitting Eri, Aizawa headed home in his Armani suit. When he saw you, his favorite cat, curled up at his door, he couldn’t have been happier. As soon as you heard his footsteps, you picked your little head up and tottered over to him, meowing happily.

He picked you up and held you in one arm as he dug in his pocket for his key. “Let’s get some rest,” he cooed to you, tiredly smiling down at your little whiskers and slow blinks. But as soon as he unlocks the door and gets inside the dark dorm room, he can tell that that won’t be the case tonight.

Because as soon as he shuts the door behind him, he gets a weird feeling. A feeling that has him feeling uncomfortable and unsettling because the silence of his dorm is uncomfortable and unsettling. It isn’t the same comfortable, serene silence of the UA campus late at night. It feels as if the quiet is just a fraud; a distraction from the attack about to happen. That is Aizawa’s first concern.

His second concern is when you suddenly jump out of his arms and hit the floor before dropping into a defensive stance, facing the wall behind the couch. You lean back on your hind legs, your tail frazzled and stiff and your ears back. Though the dorm room is empty, you react as if you see a threat.

“What?” Aizawa asks, his heart beginning to pound. As if answering him, you begin to hiss and yowl at the wall, nothing but empty space there. But you seem to know better as you spit and growl, your teeth bared and eyes sharp.

Aizawa blinks at you, shocked and alarmed. He’s never seen you like this before–so hostile. This can only mean the eerie feeling he initially had walking in here was a warning. Something is wrong here. Instantly, he rips his scarves out of his tracksuit collar and places his duffle bag on the floor. He looks towards Eri's door, finding it closed.

He has no time to wonder if it’s locked because that is when he sees the same villain from tonight at the opera slip through the wall behind the couch–unfazed, unharmed, and completely in the flesh. He is still in his suit though a little disheveled from the fighting and his hurried escape from the opera. And he’s looking straight at Aizawa, ignoring the hissing cat on the floor. Aizawa clenches his scarves, enraged a the nerve of this fuck to come here. “How’d the fuck you get in here?” he growls, angered.

Toyoma smirks at him, slowly walking around the couch to the living room. “You really wanna ask me that?” he snorts. “The security guard in the lobby is out like a light. Plus, all I had to go is slip through the ground and crawl my way through a tunnel to this place. Thank God for my quirk, right?”

Aizawa moves away from the door and enters the living room as well until they’re standing across from each other, staring each other down like two lions about to battle for their territory. A coffee table is the only thing separating them from each other. You continue to hiss and yowl but Aizawa stands in front of you, blocking you from the villain's view. “You need to leave now,” he warns. “If you don’t, I’ll make sure you don’t get away again.”

Toyoma’s taunting smirk grows. “Oh, but that’s where you’re wrong, Eraser,” he chuckles. “See, I followed you here for a reason: to make sure you never stop me again. If I keep you alive, that means you’ll always be after me and I can’t have that.”

Slowly, he reaches into his jacket pocket and pulls out a long fish knife that glints in the moonlight cutting through the window. “I’ll make this quick,” he growls before pouncing at Aizawa over the coffee table.

Aizawa is just as fast. He immediately flings one end of his scarf at Toyoma and entraps his wrist, gripping it. Toyoma grunts in pain as Aizawa begins to twist his arm, causing him to drop the knife. With his other free arm, Toyoma attempts to free himself by yanking on the scarf but that only gives Aizawa the advantage to fling him into a nearby wall. Obviously not expecting it enough to use his quirk, Toyoma hits the solid wall with a loud thud, causing a framed picture to fall as he hits the floor.

Aizawa moves quickly. He takes the knife from the floor, snatches the phone charging in the kitchen by the microwave, scoops you up, and races to Eri’s bedroom which he finds is open. He barges into her darkened bedroom, slams the door shut behind him, and hurries over to Eri’s bedside. She is already awake and out of bed, balled up beside her bed and shaking in her Mickey Mouse PJs. When Aizawa notices that her little horn and red eyes are glowing–things that haven’t happened in months–he suddenly has the blinding urge to kill Toyoma right then for scaring his little girl.

“Eri,” he says, startling her. She instantly turns to him, the glow of her little horn dimming as well as her ruby-red eyes. “D-Daddy?” She fearfully stutters. “What’s going on? Is there an earthquake?”

“Yeah, baby,” he quickly replies as kneels down next to her, lowering you into her arms. You latch onto her immediately. He also hands her the phone from the kitchen, already having trained her to call for help––either Mic, Hitoshi, Mirio, or 911. “I need you and your cat to stay in here, okay? Lock the door, keep the phone near you if you need to call someone, and don’t go near the door until you hear me tell you to open it. Understand?”

Eri frantically nods but grips his arm when he begins to stand. “W-where are you going?” she yells, panic in her little voice. “Daddy, don’t leave!” She begins to cry, fat tears rolling down her cheeks. Aizawa feels his heart tear in two as he presses a hand to her cheek, wiping her tears away.

“I’ll be right back, pumpkin. Just stay here with your kitty, okay?” He leans in and presses a kiss to her forehead, doing his best to keep back his tears. He needs to protect her. "I love you so, so much,” he whispers.

He doesn’t stick around for long to hear Eri respond to him. He quickly storms out of the room and locks it behind him. As he does, Toyoma has found his footing and is now searching for his knife. When he sees Aizawa standing there with his knife behind his back, his eyes widen crazily. “There you are!” he cackles. “I thought you had pussied out on me.” He cocks his head, eyeing the door behind Aizawa. “What’s in that room behind y–“

Before he can finish his sentence, Aizawa is leaping toward him and tackles him to the hardwood floor. Once they fit the floor, Aizawa scrambles to straddle Toyoma, squeezing his muscular thighs around him and pinning him to the floor with his weight settled on Toyoma’s chest. With a grunt, Aizawa brings the knife up to drive down into Toyoma’s right pec, but Toyoma's upper torso begins to sink into the floor, trying to escape Aizawa’s attack.

Aizawa quickly grabs Toyoma’s leg, stopping him from disappearing entirely. He wastes no time driving the knife into Toyota’s thigh, earning a high-pitched roar of pain. “You’re not goin’ anywhere, bitch,” Aizawa growls before taking the knife out. Blood spurts out of Toyoma’s new wound, staining his dress pants. Aizawa goes to stab him again in the same place but Toyoma surprises him when he suddenly rises from the floor as if practicing a sit-up and headbutts Aizawa in the nose. Pain explodes throughout his nose bone, causing Aizawa to drop the knife.

The few seconds of Aizawa letting down his guard allow Toyoma to throw him off of his body. Aizawa tumbles onto his back but manages to recover. He quickly rises and fights Toyoma off when he attempts to charge at him with the knife, angrily roaring as he does. Aizawa grips both of Toyoma’s wrists in his hands, trying to force him and the knife away. He grunts from the force of holding Toyoma back, staring at the tip of the knife in his face. The harder Toyoma pushes, the more Aizawa has to push back and his knees begin to buckle.

There is suddenly a knock at the door and the sound of pro hero and professor Vlad yells through the wood. “Aizawa?” he calls. “What’s going on in there?” Aizawa doesn’t answer, too distracted by Toyoma and the knife. Toyoma’s face is red and twisted in rage like the ugliest dog Aizawa has ever seen. This guy isn’t playing.

But neither is Aizawa. Realizing he has Toyoma right where he needs him, he begins to stare into his eyes and quickly rummage through his mind to draw out his energy. “No!” Toyoma cries, realizing what’s happening. He quickly drops the knife and disappears into the floorboards much to Aizawa’s dismay.

The knocking at the door continues, but Aizawa ignores it. He quickly grabs the knife and breaks it in half, scattering the pieces on the floor.

He then busies himself searching for his opponent, whirling around to face each wall. “Where the fuck are you?” he hollers. “Come out here now!” Vlad continues to frantically knock on the door, calling for him. He hears Nemuri too, which means everyone can hear what’s happening behind his closed door. He doesn’t have time to feel apologetic for waking the others.

And he barely has time to prepare for the blow that Toyoma gives him when he suddenly emerges from a nearby wall. Aizawa caresses his jaw which is now severely aching. He turns to elbow Toyoma in the face but finds him gone. In a flash, the villain reappears from behind Aizawa now and kicks him hard in the ribcage. It feels like the wind is being knocked out of Aizawa’s body and a fire has been lit in his ribcage all at the same time.

He doesn’t have time to recover when Toyoma suddenly slams and shatters something against the back of Aizawa’s head. Like a fallen tree, Aizawa tumbles onto the floor on his stomach as pain explodes on his scalp.

The world looks blurry and sounds muffled now, including the voices coming from the door. “Shouta!” Mic’s voice drifts through the front door now, urgent and scared. “It’s me! Open the door!”

Toyoma appears in front of Aizawa, his shoes the only thing visible. Aizawa’s eyes slowly roll up to face his cruel smirk and the broken framed photo of him and Eri at the aquarium. “Can’t even take my quirk,” he coldly laughs. “But I guess the element of surprise always works for someone taken off guard.” He drops the framed picture and steps on it, the glass crunching under his shoe, as he kneels in front of Aizawa. “But you’re also a weak old man, Eraser,” he whispers.

A warm liquid drips into Aizawa’s eyes. He realizes that he is bleeding. The world blinks in and out, dark spots beginning to coat his vision. However, he can still see Toyoma pick up the pointed half of his knife and hold it up near Aizawa’s scalp.

“Sorry to do this,” he says, not at all sounding the least bit sorry. But before he can drive it through Aizawa’s head, a flash of black zooms in front of them and jumps onto Toyoma’s face.

Aizawa watches as you vigorously claw and scratch at Toyoma’s face, causing him to scream bloody murder as you tear his face to shreds. He grapples with your furry body, trying in vain to get you off of his face. “Get off!” he screams. “Get the fuck off of me!” You yowl and scream at him, flashing your fangs as you continue to claw at his skin like its paper, creating terrible, bloody wounds that will surely need stitches.

Finally, Toyoma manages to throw you off of him and you go soaring behind the couch. He falls to his knees and begins to twitch in pain, blood furiously dripping from his face. ‘Good kitty,’ Aizawa thinks to himself. It is the only coherent thought he can produce as he begins to fade farther away from reality. He’s losing too much blood he knows, and he will soon lose consciousness. Maybe he’ll die too? He doesn’t know.

The only two things he thinks about in those fleeting moments of consciousness are Eri and you. Your smile. Your eyes. Your voice which he begins to hallucinate is right in his ear. “Aizawa,” you whisper to him. “Shouta, wake up. Don’t close your eyes, okay?”

He even believes he feels your touch, your warm hand cupping the back of his head while the other caresses his face. Are you really there, he wonders? Or is he simply dying?

Though muffled, he hears the sound of his door slamming open and multiple voices shouting, yelling. He doesn’t feel your touch anymore. “Shouta!” Nemuri cries out, scrambling to help him.

“What the fuck happened to him?!” Vlad demands.

“Someone go get Eri!” Mic urgently yells.

Aizawa hears Nemuri’s quick footsteps as she leaves for Eri’s bedroom. He feels Mic beside him now, knowing it’s him by the scent of his cologne. “Shouta, stay with me,” he softly urges his friend. “You’re gonna be just fine, okay? You’re gonna be just fine…”

Those are the last words Aizawa hears before darkness finally comes.

***********

When Aizawa awakens moments later, all he sees is a bright, blinding light overhead that is way too bright and unnatural to be the sun.

‘Oh, fuck,’ he thinks in a panic. ‘I’m dead, aren’t I? That motherfucker killed me.’

He blinks rapidly at the bright light illuminating above him as his vision begins to clear. When it does, he realizes that the light is not one that is at the end of a tunnel or some spirit guide leading him into the afterworld–it’s a light attached to a tiled ceiling. His hearing begins to sound more crystal too. Surrounding him are the sounds of methodical beeping and distant chatter.

Once his eyes adjust, he looks around at his surroundings. A room that isn't his own lies in wait for him with white walls, a small TV hanging overhead above a sink and tiny kitchenette, and muted grey furniture–an armchair and a couch sitting by a large window overlooking the clean, cut grass and trees blossoming with yellow flowers behind Mic's head.

Wait…Mic can’t be dead too, can he?

“Mic?” Aizawa croaks out which results in a series of coughs and an awful burning in his ribcage. As he hacks up his lungs, the beeping he heard before gets faster. He realizes that it's a heart monitor. He’s not in heaven–he’s in a fucking hospital.

Mic, who was reading a book, quickly flings the book aside and goes to his friend’s aid. “Hey, Sho’,” he softly says, rubbing Aizawa’s back. “How do you feel?” Aizawa licks his lips after all the coughs are out of him, groaning at the ache he feels in his ribs. “My throat’s dryer than a bitch,” he grunts.

Mic quickly goes to the kitchenette and gets a paper cup of cold water. He carefully hands it to Aizawa who tries to sit up as much as he can but even that makes his chest burn and his ribcage ache. “Don’t try to move too much,” Mic says, bringing the cup to his lips. “The doctor said that villain took a big hit at your ribcage.”

Aizawa can tell. He slowly sips the water, feeling somewhat better now that he isn’t parched anymore.

“Anything broken?” he asks. Mic shakes his head. “Luckily no, but they had to give you stitches for the gash in your head and clean up some bruises. They also bandaged up your upper torso so try to breath slow. Nothing is life-threatening, but the doc is still running some tests. He’ll be happy to know you’re awake.”

He gives Aizawa another sip of water before plumping his pillow for him like a good, attentive servant.

As he does, his words process in Aizawa’s still slightly dazed mind. He looks down, finding wires taped to his wrists and a hospital gown adorning his body. “How long have I been in here?” he asks, suddenly panicking. “Where’s Eri?”

“Relax, relax,” Mic soothes him so he doesn’t set off the heart monitor again. “I sent Eri down the hall to the vending machine. You’ve only been in here since last night. It’s about 10 AM now.”

Aizawa sits back against his pillow, letting the information process in his frazzled mind. He’s been here since last night? “What happened to Toyoma?” he asks. Mic gives him a blank stare. “The villain.”

“Oh, we called the cops and they came running,” Mic explains. “The entire campus turned into a chaotic mess. Everyone was awake at that point. Nezu and Nemuri came to the hospital with me to ensure you were okay, and the police chief called earlier to give me information to pass down to you.” He pauses to give Aizawa another sip of water. “The villain–Toyoma–was arrested and is being held for questioning right now…with no bail, might I add.”

A sigh of relief leaves Aizawa’s body. That’s good, at least. “How’s my dorm?” he asks, afraid to know the answer. Mic sheepishly smiles at him. “Well, since it’s a crime scene now, you won’t be able to go back for at least two or three weeks, but Nezu is offering you an apartment near UA for the time being. So far, Eri and I haven’t been back to UA. We’ve just been here.” He motions over the entirety of the hospital room.

“We?” Aizawa parrots. “Eri’s been here this whole time?” He can’t help feeling unhappy with this news. The last place Eri needs to be in is a fucking hospital. Mic doesn’t show any kind of alarm to Aizawa’s anger. “She didn't want to leave you, Shouta,” he protests. "I tried to get her to come back to my dorm but she–“

“And what about Y/N?” Aizawa interjects. “Where is she? Does she know?” Mic’s eyebrows furrow in confusion. “Y/N isn’t here. The last time I saw her was last night in your dorm room. She was already there by the time we got Vlad to bust down the door. He didn’t wanna do it since it counts as UA campus property.” He rolls his eyes behind his glasses.

Aizawa scowls at him, perplexed. “Y/N was already in my room?” he asks, utterly confused. Mic slowly nods, just as confused. Your voice comes back to him telling him to keep his eyes open, your warm hand cupping the back of his head. So that wasn’t a hallucination. That was real. You were really there, coaxing him to hang on. But…how?

“That’s impossible,” Aizawa says, trying to reason. “Before Toyoma came, no one was in my dorm last night except for me, Eri, and–“

“Daddy?” a tiny voice whispers from the doorway. Aizawa and Mic turn to the doorway, finding a little girl with her locks of silver hair pulled into a ponytail and wearing overalls over her shirt. She holds a jukebox and a pack of cookies in her hands as she gapes at Aizawa, her eyes wide.

“Eri,” he softly says, a smile curling on his lips. “You got those cookies for one, huh?” She immediately drops both items and runs to him, scrambling onto the bed. She is careful as she wraps her arms around his neck, nuzzling her face into his neck as she wails. “I-I thought you were dead,” she hysterically sobs. “I-I thought you left me!”

Aizawa holds her close, thanking God that she’s safe. “Never, pumpkin,” he coos. “I’d never leave you. I’m just so happy you’re safe.”

He cradles her head to his chest, ignoring the burning and aching of his body. This pain means he’s alive. It means that he can recover and have more time with Eri, Mic, and everyone else he loves. “Everything’s gonna be okay, honey,” he shushes his sobbing Eri. “I promise.”

But despite the joy he feels, even he can’t decide if he’s telling Eri this to reassure her, or if he’s telling himself this to reassure himself.

Especially when your absence is all that is on his mind. This only gets worse for him when a nurse suddenly appears in the doorway holding a vase of the most beautiful bunch of pink flowers in a glass vase. “Oh, you’re finally up!” she cheerfully says. “That’s great because I’d rather you see your gift with your own two eyes. I’ll just leave them here for you and go alert the doctor.”

Once she lowers the flowers on his bedside table and leaves, Aizawa examines the beautiful flowers and finds a tiny white card tied to a ribbon around the neck of the vase. There, he sees a message and your name:

I’m so sorry for how things turned out. Please make sure you rest up and I look forward to seeing you once you’re out of that bed.

-Love, Y/N

#shouta aizawa #shoutaaa #smutty smut #my fic shit #my works #here kitty kitty #bnha smut #black coded reader #black fanfic writer #black writers #aizawa x black!reader #shouta aizawa x black!reader

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mdhwrites · 5 months

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Is Belos the only Owl House villain with a fandom that's giving him more depth than the show?

Edit: I just noticed that you said TOH villain specifically. *smacks self* But also Kikimora exists... Or literally any fanfic about the S1 villains probably. TOH has a lot of dry puddle villains when it comes to depth. As someone who literally ever did King Sombra fiction for the My Little Pony, no. No it is not. In fact, I actually highly doubt that it's really that uncommon. A lot of pure evil villains will be warped and shifted as they hit a fandom so that they are more useful for shipping or can be more complex in their villainy than what was shown in the show. After all, when you start from rock bottom, it's hard to really not go up.

I think the big thing about Belos that makes him bizarre is that where as a lot of other fandoms will just agree that the villain was shallow, the fandom is split on him. There are those like me who believes he's incredibly bland and doesn't care about his backstory elements because, you know, backstory is not a personality. A boring character with an interesting backstory is still a boring character.

There is a side of the fandom though who are REALLY upset about Belos' treatment in the finale because of all those crumbs of backstory that they see as what could have been. Hell, because people linked me a recent review of TOH, I saw people in the comments effectively being split on the reviewers main complaint about the show being that Belos is just bluntly, boringly evil. Some thought he was right on the money, others talked about the shortening and some argued that he was actually complex, you just had to dig for it. (No I won't link the review because of issues surrounding the person who made it. It's also pretty bare bones anyways and what you'd expect from a 12 minute, positive review of TOH.)

This is demonstrative of the issue with Belos though, isn't it? Compelling concepts that are all in service for someone who can be boiled down to "Narcissistic, genocidal, racist moron." Someone betrayed by family who abandoned him and his loneliness and pain lashed out upon the world? A ruler who believes that the oppression of his own people is for their own sake due to religious fervor? A human who believes the other world to be a hell that he must crusade against? Each of these is actually not a bad concept on its own but they're not all compatible together. Maybe any two can do it but these are only three of the like half a dozen concepts you could read into Belos through his backstory and actions, minimum, and pretty much all demand that he actually have more than two braincells together because he is really rock stupid. Remember: He never planned for how to murder the children of the Isles, only the adults. In fact, he made sure to ADD protections on the children rather than making it more dangerous for them which could have led to an actual decline in population.

I will always prefer how Belos presented himself in S1's finale, a portrayal that does NOT work with his actual goals. His statement of "I do not seek conquest, only unity," is just bullshit. Murdering an entire race isn't unity after all. Also why bother lying to the human here? Why not try to get her on your side? Be honest with her? Or trap her so as to make sure not to allow her to backstab you like your brother? I know people say time loop stuff but he is still trying to convince her to work with him and is disappointed when she refuses, while also MURDERING LILITH which is a bit of a big deal if he actually remembers them after so long, so I don't buy it.

That portrayal has always been my favorite though because it makes Luz and Belos have similar goals but differing ideologies for reaching those goals. Belos believes that unity can be found through order and control, even if it restricts expression, while Luz promotes radical expressionism and the idea that it is our differences that make us stronger. It's great theming and makes it so that anytime Luz doesn't make a friend because they're simply too different, she has to question if he's potentially correct.

But then the show does the weird decision that each characters individuality, besides one or traits, is slowly eroded away over the course of the show. Everyone is just a nice person. You get a jock added eventually with Willow but that's about it. You don't have anyone overly serious, minus when Hunter is putting up a front and defaulting to trained behavior, you have no goths, punks, pure balls of sunshine who are annoying, etc. like that. Not amongst those that the show doesn't frame as mostly a joke, like how Lilith's hyperfixations are treated.

It's an awkward element of the main cast that makes Belos as the grand villain really awkward. You can't have a villain who is still seeking unity like that without him potentially being able to point out how those around Luz have lost their personal desires and goals, their interests, besides Willow (and kind of Gus with his human interest that is still... awkward to put it mildly), and so genuinely how different are their methods when she isn't as inclusive as she claims to be?

Even Kikimora, perhaps the most alternative person when compared to Luz's comfort zone, is only brought into Luz's range when she presents herself as capable of being a strawman for Luz and Luz gets an in to say "Look! She's a person! At least in my eyes." Before, you know, she ditches Luz to continue to be ambitious and care about her own goals, evil as they may be.

I've gotten kind of off topic but I guess my main point is to also discuss how you get a villain like Belos to some extent. I can absolutely like a pure evil villain btw. I don't think Ozai is a detriment to Avatar as his pure evil nature matches the fact that the war he is committing is just as much a force of nature, destroying the land, as it is some asshole's desire to conquer, capstoned not with his fight against Aang but his literal attempt to annihilate a CONTINENT. At that point, your goal isn't conquest, it's total destruction. A literal scorched Earth.

But Belos? Every attempt to pretend Belos was nuanced or the like just brought him lower and lower.

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

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

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

A Twitter you can follow too

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

#emperor belos #toh #The Owl House #the owl house criticism #toh critical

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oblisker · 1 year

Text

infodump about fred’s autistic traits

This is going to be going over many of Fred’s behaviorisms and things I’ve observed about him, and why I think they add up to the conclusion of him being autistic.

Disclaimer: Some of these things may vary depending on the iteration, being more exaggerated or toned down.

He lacks an understanding of tone and many, many things tend to go over his head. This can lead to other characters being upset with him, and him not understanding why.

He is seen taking things literally or being oblivious to any ulterior implications of other people’s sentences, also leading him to be overly-trusting and, at times, vulnerable to manipulation. Sarcasm usually goes over his head.

Very blunt. He has a tendency to always say what’s on his mind, and as a result, offend those around him. He never seems to have any intention of harming people by doing so, he just doesn’t see any issue with what he’s saying.

Tone often does not match statements; ex. “You seem to have healed well.” “What? …Oh, not my bones!” (Smiling)

Terribly oblivious to Daphne’s advances. This doesn’t even need any examples, because I could give dozens. Actually, in many adaptations where other women come onto him, he is entirely unaware of any romantic implications.

Will say potentially disturbing phrases without an understanding of why they are.

Intense apathy to danger. This goes at the cost of himself, and others. He will repeatedly put his friends in harm’s way, seemingly without a concern that it will endanger them or get them hurt, even though when it does, he feels terribly guilty. His room is full of traps. He trapped his friends’ houses in preparation for any mysteries.

On a related note, he is very goal-oriented, and will go to extreme lengths just to solve a mystery, or even find one.

Back to the apathy to danger, he will interact with dangerous things and be excited about them. Sometimes even if they’re not related to traps. This excitement presents itself in scenes where he may compliment the craftsmanship of a cage, or net, or rope, even if they are at risk of being harmed in the moment.

While he is initially dead-set on rescuing Daphne, in the first episode of Mystery Incorporated, he stops his concern for a moment to compliment the cage, which is, to a lot of people, inappropriate behavior for the direness of the situation.

He has many troubles communicating and distinguishing his and others feelings, medically described as alexithymia. This is very common in autistic people.

One thing that is very apparent about him is that he tends to get attached to inanimate objects. M.r trapples (his childhood teddy bear), traps as a whole, nets, magazines, his ascot, “Tyler” (the moose in his house), and of course, the Mystery Machine. He often treats the Mystery Machine as his child or a loved-one generally, and he is shown to care very deeply about its safety. This may be due to his lack of understanding of other people and feelings of isolation, or simply because he finds an indescribable solace in it, but either of these are autism symptoms.

Now, onto traps. Possibly the most blatantly autistic thing about him of all.

Over the course of many movies and shows, Fred has displayed an intense love and interest in traps, sometimes prioritized at the same level he does his friends. He admits to sleeping with a net in one movie, and in possibly the same one, (I haven’t watched it) here comes a scene that heavily resembles the behavior of an autistic person.

In the scene, Daphne asks him to contribute something to the conversation—Fred excitedly blurts out a fact about nets that he is eager to share, and Daphne says that no one wants to hear his net facts. Fred goes on to drop to his knees, beginning to sob about how much he loves traps.

Autistic people are prone to infodumping and sharing random facts that they have acquired, even if irrelevant to the conversation—as Fred is seen to do many times—and are often disappointed if they are shut down. It is one of the ways that we best communicate.

The thing about special interests is that your entire life revolves around them. It’s not just that you’re always thinking about it, because that’s not always the case, but it can also mean that it’s just something you incorporate into your everyday life because of your intense passion for it. It’s simply a part of living for you.

And that’s exactly what traps, and, even mystery solving, are to Fred. He makes up phrases that no one but he uses, ex. “Trap you later!” or, “It’s trappin’ time!”, as I mentioned before, his room is full of traps, he and his friends’ houses are all covered with traps, it’s just something he tries to fit into every aspect of his life because he enjoys it so much.

And, because he loves traps so much, here’s where his struggle with empathy comes into play. Because of his passion for traps, he is constantly under the assumption that everyone else that he’s friends with enjoys traps as much as he does. He has issues fathoming other people’s perspectives and is often wrapped up in his own head. Some may pass this off as narcissism, but that’s an ableist accusation and ignores how autism affects people.

Something that’s very, very much worth mentioning is how autistic people often lack the tools to understand “normal” communication, therefore giving people the impression that they are unintelligent, but can have “gifted” levels of intelligence when it comes to their special interest. And, yes, that’s exactly Fred. His problems with socially acceptable communication and recognizing tone may make him seem dumb, but he’s just the opposite with a college level understanding of physics, outstanding knowledge of engineering, and intellect regarding all that is traps—which is objectively impressive for a boy that is typically 17 years old.

Fred is someone kind who is constantly looking to do good for the world, however he struggles with allistic communication and perspectives outside of his own, causing him unintentional conflict between he and his loved ones. He is a genuine, honest person, and usually has the best intentions, despite not understanding people all that well.

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hekateinhell · 7 months

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sending this well after you've probably gone to bed HOWEVER i am always ready to report for louis/armand/lestat duty so HERE GOES:

Every time they get in a petty fight, someone rearranges the vinyl collection at Trinity Gate. Louis organizes alphabetically by artist, Armand organizes by genre, and Lestat organizes chronologically. The music room is a goddamn war zone.

When Lestat is an Extra Extra Good Boy (or just in need of some tlc in general) Louis and Armand make the best mani-pedi team. Louis takes a foot and Armand takes a hand, then they switch for the opposite side.

Somehow Armand gets ahold of the tattered old TVL band shirt that Louis used to sleep in. He lounges around the house in it and has both Lestat and Louis drooling in SECONDS (bonus smut points if Louis and Lestat both take turns fucking him in it)

Also this is just Louis/Armand but listen i've been thinking a lot lately of how strong Armand is!!! Like I know the fun thing about his character is that he's got the craziest mental tenacity for someone trapped in a small/young body, but I do think people sleep on how physically strong he is as well. Anyway, all I'm saying is: I want to see him hoist Louis up against a wall and fuck him <3 I want Louis to get overpowered and dicked down by someone half a foot shorter than him LOL it would be good for him!!!!!!

ASHLEYYYYY OH MY GOD I LOVE ALL THESE SO MUCH YOU ALWAYS HIT ME WHERE I LIVE!!! 😭😭😭

i love thinking about what their domestic life would look like LMAO canon or human AU because all three of them complement and contrast each other so fucking well, i'm all over that all day every day!!!! asksfkdsgj rip the music room 💀 i hope to god nobody gets petty enough to fuck with the library and louis's meticulously thought out system of displaying his books that only he knows (lestat gets petty enough, armand knows better -- tbh idk if he actually ever gets mad at louis? as easily as lestat sets him off, louis has the opposite effect. but for argument's sake, i think if louis did piss armand off, armand would react by pretending he's fine but he would immediately start being infantilizing and weird. really, really emphasizing the "sweet, dusty louis" every other sentence like he's marius talking to a wain victorian orphan).

NO BUT THIS IS SO SWEET!!! not to get too serious but for canon fic i think about court era!lestat a lot and like how he comes right out and says to marius "you don't want a prince in me, you want a figurehead, you would be the ruler here" and really just all the times he sounds so Tired & Done™️ in general with everything. lestat getting some TLC from his consort and madame de pompadour on the regular is harm reduction at its finest lbr. i wanna see armand and louis giving him a perfumed bath a la QotD but without the trauma (and like in Air Catcher too now that i've triggered the memory, i love your brain so much DO YOU KNOW HOW OFTEN I REREAD THAT FIC 🥹)

OH MY GOD STOP PLEASE!!! i wanna know like was armand intentional about wearing louis's lestat shirt? in his mind, is this The Next Logical Step in their threesome relationship? was he expecting a reaction or was he just looking to self-soothe and instead of going for one of louis's baggy sweaters that would hit the thigh on armand, he just grabbed the shirt? regardless, i hope they dped him 🫶🏼 (i totally need this to happen both in canon verse and in teen au future verse)

NO ASHLEY YOU DON'T UNDERSTAND LMAO NOBODY KNOWS BECAUSE I HAVE TOO MUCH GOING ON TO ACTUALLY WRITE BUT THE SMUT MACHINE NEVER STOPS AND LATELY I JUST WANT ARMAND TO TOP EVERYONE!!!! i wanna see the short king bend back those long legs and go to town on these catholic boys! 🤧 armand is the ultimate switch and he is, in his own words, NOT A WAIF. he can lift that bag of bones easily!!! ❤️ and i remember we talked about like top/bottom dynamics with lestat and louis--either physically or just energy wise--and how it would probably take a considerable amount of time and effort for louis to heal enough to relinquish that control to lestat again following the RR years and all that went down... i'm thinking like if i wanted squish armand in there and I DO, it would be a good step in that direction for louis to practice being open (get it? i'll see myself out) with armand first (literally expanding on PL canon here just adding the sex LMAO). tl;dr: it would be good for both of them if armand fucked that sad, wet man (as a treat) ALSO ALSO SEE MY FAVE "ARMAND FUCKS LOUIS" FICLET THAT IS WAY TOO FUCKING SHORT

#my answers are very stream of consciousness these days i can't be bothered but also-#I HAD SO MANY INCOHERENT THOUGHTS I'M SORRY ILY THANK YOU <3 #armand/lestat/louis #armand/louis #vc #you ask and hekate answers

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scarletsaphire · 14 days

Note

tell me about kit!

*cracks knuckles* You have fallen into my trap. Prepare to hear about the singular best character that has ever been created.

Kit Baxter, also known as the Flying Squirrel, is the sidekick to Canada's greatest superhero, the marvelous masked man known only as the Red Panda from the radio show Adventures of the Red Panda. She is also his chauffeur for his secret identity (which remains secret even to the listeners for most of the show.) One other important bit of context is that the show is set during the great depression in Toronto, Canada, so life kinda sucks ass a little bit.

Kit is a first generation Russian immigrant, her father ran a boxing ring and taught her to drive. She's quick witted and quick on her feet, can throw a mean right hook, and drives better than most other people in the city, which earned her a spot as a taxi driver. Panda ended up in her car in his Secret Identity, asked her to drive (recklessly) to a crime scene he wanted to stop, and she, obviously, refused. She wasn't going to be running around like an idiot for some rich asshole. Panda than waved some money in her face to try and get her to listen, and what did she do? She said no, because she isn't some trained dog that'll bark for some rich asshole the moment he gives her a bone. She'd rather go hungry tonight than do that kind of shit for him, and if he's gonna act like he doesn't even know what manners are, he can get the hell out of her cab. (Once he says sorry and asks nicely, than she puts the petal to the metal.)

She's also like. So smart and cool and good with people, she's a jokester and flirtatious (mostly with Panda because she likes flustering him, its really funny) but she's allowed to be all of those things without ever feeling like "Oh she's just there to be the attractive side kick." Kit is very much her own person, its just that she happens to like being a thorn in Panda's side and sometimes that means batting her eyelids (and climbing up walls in a skintight cat suit).

Kit became the Flying Squirrel after, and I quote "I figured out your secret identity and then blackmailed you into letting me play." She cares so, so deeply about the people of her city, especially the people on the streets she comes from because she did not grow up in a nice area of town, and she is constantly trying to fight for the most vulnerable parts of town, despite many of them looking down on her as a woman, especially a woman in her field. She never takes anyone's shit, either towards herself or anyone else, and she is always ready to throw hands with someone she thinks deserves it.

(I'm going to be getting into spoiler stuff underneath the cut. I am asking so very nicely for you to listen to the Adventures of the Red Panda. They're on spotify here ad free, and you can also find them on their website decoderringtheatre.com along with all of their other shows and their audiobooks. It truly is one of the most impressive, fun, and thrilling stories I have ever read, watched, or heard, and it is Criminally Underrated. If you think this is even like. A Tiny Bit Interesting, throw on the first episode, its only 20 minutes, see if you like it. If you don't mind spoilers, or ended up not liking it, keep going.)

Something that I really, really like about Kit is how she's handled later on in the story, once we get into WWII. Her and Panda get married, and she ends up pregnant right as he ends up MIA (presumed dead by most of the world) and she is left to try and defend all of Toronto largely by herself with a child on the way and Archangel, a nazi spy whose manipulating p much everything, bringing havoc upon her city.

It would be super easy to let her fade into the background during all of this. It would be so, so easy to write her off as so many different things do as a mother and a wife and leave her at that. But they don't. She steps up as the mastermind behind everything, pulling the strings of their connections they've forged over the years, continues to fight in her suit until she physically can't anymore, working as hard as she can in and out of costume to make sure that her city, because with Panda gone (not dead. She never believes he's dead for a second and has and will fight anyone who says otherwise.) It is her city and her people and she will not let it fall to ruin. She will not let anyone else, Nazi or American or Canadian or anyone take her city from her.

Katya Baxter is a wonderful character who is just so, so funny and amazing and if anybody knew what the Adventures of the Red Panda were she would be an absolute HIT of a character on here. I love her so, so much.

#also i love you for asking.#i never expected anyone to actually DO it yknow #but shes just #shes so COOL man #i need more people to love her like I do because i've literally never had another person to talk to about this that isn't my dad.

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lurkinglurkerwholurks · 9 months

Text

Trapped

First posted: July 30, 2018

Focuses on: Jason Todd (and Bruce Wayne)

My favorite bookmark: "i think this is my favorite jason fic now?? shit" thank u but I've written better, please come back

Tier: Top 20 in terms of hits, kudos, and bookmarks, surprisingly

This is my "behind the scenes" series where I indulge myself horribly by annotating my fics. Link to the fic itself above. Thoughts below the cut.

Another BatFam Week entry, but this time the prompt is the title.

This one started with a very specific kinetic image of being able to feel Bruce's hand covering Jason's eyes and knowing why. Very horse blinders, but soft and dadly. From there it was just a matter of writing it.

A panicked whine whistled through the dark.

In my own fics, the use of "whine" is very "Oh hi, I've been binging fic indiscriminately for weeks and now have plunged headfirst into writing without knowing a thing about how to do it my own way." No shade on people who do use that verb. I just don't anymore, because it's not my style.

He was buried. Buried in the dark with the bugs and the worms and the dirt.

Treble parallel structures are just the best and I rely on them way too much but also I AM NOT SORRY.

He swung his arm in a panic, forearm slamming against the wall of rubble. Nothing moved, but his arm screamed, so he joined it.

☺️

That was him. Good, good, that was good, dead people didn’t know their own name, because they were dead, but he was going to be dead because he couldn’t see and couldn’t get out and oh god he was buried again—

I really hecking love stream-of-consciousness panic, though I would edit some of the commas here. They were technically, grammatically correct, but a few implied breaths Jason was definitely not taking.

Also I don't remember if it was this fic or another early one but some commenter tried to be like "capitalize that g." No. When the characters reference the deity or deliberately the name, that's God. This is god.

No matter where Jason had cried out for him—in a warehouse in Ethiopia, in a muddy grave, on the banks of the Pit—Bruce had never been here.

Listen, you might think you hate your dad, but when you're living out your worst nightmare, it's good to have him around! Like oh thank goodness AN ADULT, and not just any adult, the ADULT WHO FIXES THINGS.

Bruce’s hand tightened on his ankle.

Some things are just fun to write because it's less about imagining and more about, no, I can just tell you Bruce has his gloves on and his fingers are around Jason's ankle and the pad of his thumb is pressed to that little hollow between the ankle bone and the Achilles heel, I'm not conjuring it, that's just how it is.

It was a ludicrously heavy beam, and his muscles were already weak from panic and fading adrenaline.

I have no idea how heavy concrete with a rebar center actually is. If I were Audrey, I would have googled it and researched down to the ounce. As it is, my brain went "It's like the Little Billy scene in Rocketman, it's fine."

“I have died here,” Jason reminded him, voice teetering like a small figure on a bridge.

I pat past me on the back for that wording.

Bruce placed his hand over Jason’s eyes, sandpapery callouses rubbing across soft eyelashes and bloody skin.

Bruce has my dad's hands. Which doesn't actually make sense because Bruce is a manual labor guy and my dad's only callouses are writing callouses, but it's true.

“You’re not alone. I’m here, and I’m not leaving you.” Bruce kissed Jason’s forehead tenderly, then prompted, “Say it.”

Yay forehead kiss.

“You are not alone.” “I am not alone.”

I am not fond of dialogue-only endings (when I do them.)

Also, to pull out one of my own replies from the comments:

The hill I choose to die on is that the majority of both the strife and bliss between Bruce and Jason at any point in their lives centers on the fact that Bruce is the closest anyone has come to earning total trust from Jason. Period. So that makes every betrayal ten times worse but also means that when the chips are down, Jason will turn to Bruce.

Another gem from the comments: my elation that @cerusee (whose work I had devoured) read AND liked this fic AND liked it well enough to text it to @audreycritter (who had not yet appeared like a Jack-in-the-Box to drag me bodily into friendship.) I tried to play it cool in the reply. I was not chill in real life.

#fanfic bts brain dump

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heliads · 6 months

Note

Your fics are amazing!! I especially love the Unwind ones! :) Can I request an angsty what-if fic where Connor doesn't go deliver his letter and is there when Nelson finds the antique shop? I don't know how specific you want me to be in my request, but a fight scene between Connor and Nelson would be cool (Nelson deserves to be punched). Thank you!

yes...YESSSSS

'guess that's growing up' - connor lassiter

masterlist

warnings: blood, violence, death

Five years ago, if you had asked Connor Lassiter where he thought he’d end up in life, he wouldn’t have said the basement of an antique shop. He certainly wouldn’t have expected to be in that same basement twice in the span of a few years. Life has a way of throwing you a few curveballs. It isn’t Connor’s fault if he can’t help but follow their winding paths until he ends up exactly where he started.

It isn’t like he’s back to square one. It can’t be, after all the friends he’s made and lost. Still, it’s hard to shake the feeling that he keeps getting dragged back home. As a kid, he’d always dreamed of running away and making it big, and then he’d actually had to run away when he found out he was going to be unwound. Now he’s back in Ohio, and although Connor finally has a hope for the end of unwinding thanks to the Rheinschild organ printer, he knows as surely as anyone that if this doesn’t work, the last of his luck might finally have run out. He was born here almost eighteen years ago, and he might just die here too.

Connor tries to keep his emotions light, but it’s hard, especially after being stuck in Sonia’s basement for far too many days. It took forever for them to leave the first time, and now he’s wondering how long they’ll spend trapped inside the lightless cellar now. Maybe someone will come down here decades in the future and find his old, brittle bones propped up in a corner someplace, the Akron AWOL reduced to a skeleton with a white, wiry beard like in the cartoons he used to watch as a kid.

So no, he’s not exactly doing a great job of staying optimistic, but it’s hard to get up the energy to converse with the other scared unwinds down here when he knows how this is going to end. It’s not his first rodeo. Nothing gets better before it gets worse again. Why take the time to memorize everyone’s name and favorite color if they’re just going to get ripped apart again in a matter of months? Connor might as well spare himself the heartache. If they do get unwound after all, some future client would probably appreciate it if Connor’s heartstrings were tugged as little as possible.

It’s not a funny thing to think about, but Connor’s sense of humor has gotten increasingly jagged and sarcastic as of late, if it wasn’t already bitter in the first place. When he tries to be funny, he just ends up cutting to the bone. He’s not Hayden. He’s never been good at making the jokes land when he needs them the most.

Hell, maybe that’s what’s unsettling him the most about being back here. If it weren’t enough to see the same familiar shadowy walls and low ceiling (look, there’s the place he gouged his initials in the corner two years ago), Connor has to do all of it not only with new faces but with the ghosts of the former ones.

Thinking about who had been here with him before makes his stomach roil with guilt and regret. Roland is unwound now; Connor has his arm and is starting to understand his surly temperament, his gut reaction to snap at everything around him instead of smiling. Mai became a clapper and blew up Happy Jack; Lev was there with her, chemicals in his veins, but saved himself when she didn’t. Hayden is still alive, hopefully, although Connor hasn’t seen him in ages; he misses Hayden’s sense of humor most of all.

The only repeated characters in the basement are Risa and himself, but even they are so fundamentally transformed from who they’d been at the start that they could be different people entirely. Connor isn’t sure that he’s at all recognizable as Connor Lassiter anymore. He has the same skin, or most of it, but that’s the end of the similarities. Connor is left wondering how everything changed so drastically over two years, which leaves him in a state of hazy dread.

And then, of course– well, there’s the letter, and that blows everything else out of the water.

Sonia still has his letter, the one she’d had him write to his parents when he first showed up at her antique store. All of the notes from past unwinds she’s harbored are still here. The thought unsettles him more than Connor would care to admit. Even if the kids who wrote them are long since stripped of their parts, dead and gone or maybe somehow still alive, their writing is still here. He wonders if his handwriting has changed since he wrote it last. If Connor saw a few sentences of his letter, could he recognize it as his own, or is even that last hallmark of the boy he’d been gone from him forever?

Connor can’t help but obsess over every detail. It’s hard not to when Sonia keeps bringing it up. He’s not sure if she thinks he’s dramatically different from the boy he’d been, but she must want him to return to that former version of himself somehow, because she’s offered for him to hand deliver the letter to his parents. In fact, she seems rather put off by the fact that he hasn’t leapt at the chance.

It’s not the first time in his life that Connor doesn’t have the right answer, and just like every other impossible choice, Connor isn’t even sure that there is a right way to go about this. He can take his letter to his parents, the people who had him unwound in the first place. He can be the bigger person and forgive them for wanting him clinically dismembered. Maybe, after time, they’ll even be able to move on from it and grow back together again.

Or, far more tempting still, Connor can let his resentment stand as firm and impenetrable as a fortress. This is the choice that calls to him the most. Why should he forgive them? It’s up to his parents to reach out to them first, even if they have no idea if he’s still alive nor how to contact them. Connor is not the one who wanted his own flesh and blood unwound. There’s no reason for the responsibility of breaching the immovable gap between himself and his family to fall on his shoulders.

Still, the Objective Right Thing to do is to give them the letter. Connor knows this, in a shifting, sinking feeling in his stomach, like when you tell your first big lie as a kid even though you know it’s wrong. Connor should meet his parents again. Probably.

Problem is, he doesn’t want to. The anger may not be as white-hot as it had been when Connor first found out he was going to be unwound, but it’s still there, simmering beneath his skin like a stovetop that wasn’t turned off properly. He isn’t going to burn down the house, not yet, but the possibility is there.

Risa would support him in this, Connor knows that. She immediately advocated against it, citing the immense risk posed by leaving their hiding place in Sonia’s basement. She doesn’t know the conflict in Connor’s heart quite as well as the terror of getting caught by the Juvenile Authority, though. She never had a family to love and loathe like this, and although Connor hates to say it, this will be the one time her advice won’t be as picture perfect as usual.

Sonia can sense this hesitation, and she’s been even pushier than usual in an attempt to convince him to visit his parents. At one point earlier today, Connor was helping her bring down some groceries when she asked him again when he was planning on leaving.

“I’m not going,” Connor had complained angrily, and immediately felt like a kid throwing a temper tantrum because his favorite shirt was in the wash or something stupid like that. So many unwinds here would kill for a chance to see their parents again, and here he is practically frothing at the mouth at the thought of it.

Sonia had raised her eyebrows at that, but said nothing, for once. Connor had lugged the last of the bags down and sat in silence, fuming, until he finally cooled off again. He feels bad for snapping at Sonia like that, especially when she’s risking her life for him by harboring unwinds right underneath her shop, but not bad enough to deliver the letter.

Sonia doesn’t usually check up on them during the day, electing to preserve her ruse by manning the counter of the antique shop, so Connor assumes he’ll have all day to practice an apology before she checks up on them after closing time. Maybe he’ll write her a letter. He could both thank her for shoving him in her basement for so many weeks and also say he’s sorry for being an ass. He probably owes a lot of people similar letters. He’s been an ass many times.

Connor is idly monitoring the sounds upstairs, waiting to tell when Sonia will come down again so he can have his statement ready, when he first hears the loud thump. Noise isn’t uncommon up above; customers buying large objects can be heard huffing and puffing as they drag their purchases to the door. However, this sounds wrong. The voices Connor makes out through the dusty floorboards don’t sound like people ogling antiques. One of them sounds cruel, and the other, Sonia, sounds distorted somehow, unlike herself. They’re too quiet for him to hear, but none of it can be good. Then Sonia lets out a cry of pain, and Connor knows for certain that something is wrong.

All of the other runaways in the basement perk up. Fight or flight senses are always amplified among AWOLs. Connor silently gestures for them to back away from the cellar entrance, holding a finger to his lips. This could be a Juvey-cop, so they can’t risk exposing Sonia through too many sounds. Risa picks up a wrench, testing its weight experimentally, and Connor and the others follow suit. Whatever’s going on up there, it can’t hurt to have a weapon.

They wait in tense, painful silence, and then there’s a softer thump from above as the rug is flipped off of the trapdoor and Sonia shouts down for Lev of all people to come up and help her with something. Lev isn’t here, he hasn’t been near Sonia’s shop at all. Sonia knows this, and she’s well aware that the kids know this, too.

Connor’s eyes widen as he puts it together. This is a trap, obviously. Risa, sensing the same thing, grabs a small, blond kid (Jack, maybe? Connor tried not to learn their names. Unfamiliarity makes it easier to lose them) and starts to push him up the stairs, promising that she’ll be right behind him. Connor moves to join her but Risa stops him with a single harsh look.

“Don’t you dare even poke your head out,” she urges in a terse whisper. “Whoever’s here is probably only looking for you. Don’t make a sound.”

Connor would like to argue with this, but he knows she’s right. Odds are somebody saw him through a storefront window or something after closing. It’s not right to let Risa fight his battles for him, but maybe the intruder will leave if they don’t see the Akron AWOL. It’s not lost on him that Risa and the blond boy might get taken away anyway all for the sake of covering for him, but Risa’s not taking no for an answer, and she’s gone within a moment.

Connor paces back and forth, unsuccessfully trying not to let his panic show. Beau, one of the latest wannabe top dog types, starts prying at a window in the back, which is good. Odds are, they’ll need a second way out of here than just the trapdoor. Connor is about to pitch in and help when he hears a gunshot up above, followed by an agonized cry by Risa, and then all bets are off. Risa’s plea for him to stay hidden is gone from his head. If his worst fears are true– if she was shot, if she was dead– nothing matters anymore.

Connor bounds up the stairs two at a time, emerging into utter chaos. The blond kid is crumpled on the ground, a mess of blood and gore coating his chest. A grungy man is standing over his body holding a real gun, not just a tranq. Risa is beating him with a wrench, but he throws her off of him the second Connor appears. The man’s face cracks into a leering grin, and Connor realizes that he knows this man. It’s Nelson, the cop he shot so long ago.

Worse than that, it’s not just Nelson. Half of his face has been replaced with unwound flesh. Connor discovers with a sickening lurch of his stomach that he knows the donor, too. That’s the good side of Argent Skinner’s face isn’t it? Come to think of it, Connor hasn’t seen Grace in a little while, too. He silently hopes she’s alright, then shuts off every part of his brain that isn’t wired to defend himself. Nelson looks crazy. He has to be ready for anything.

Nelson lets out a slow, cackling laugh. “Connor Lassiter. In the flesh.”

“Nelson. In somebody else’s flesh.” Connor mimics. “What did you do to Argent Skinner?”

Nelson rolls his eyes elaborately. “He got in the way. I think his fate is obvious, isn’t it? I needed new skin. He needed to learn his lesson. No one crosses me and gets away with it. You’ve been on the run for a long time, but I’ve caught up to you at last. I always catch my prey.”

To the side, Risa is slowly getting to her feet, but there’s a gash opening up on her temple. Behind her, Sonia is chained to a chair, obviously in pain. Only Connor can save them. Only Connor can save himself.

Nelson starts to glance over at Risa, following Connor’s line of sight, so Connor quickly speaks up again to distract him. “So what, are we going to fight again? Boring, but let’s get on with it. Do you want to get out your tranq gun for old time’s sake? Maybe I’ll shoot you again. They might give me a new nickname for that.”

Nelson actually growls in anger. “I’m not interested in tranq guns, Connor. A permanent solution is better for you.”

He’s still holding the gun he just used to kill the blond boy, and Connor realizes with a sinking lurch that Nelson is planning on utilizing it for a second kill. This time, Nelson isn’t leaving until the job is done. Sure, it would be good to collect the payout of grabbing the Akron AWOL, but this is personal. Nelson can make up any excuse he wants about why Connor forced his hand. In the end, this is about Connor repeatedly humiliating the guy, costing him his job, his life, his flesh and bone, everything. One of them is walking away from this, not both. Perhaps neither of them. Looking up at Nelson, Connor finally knows: this is where it all ends.

“That’s fine with me.” Connor tells him. “I’d like to get rid of you, too.”

He briefly considers going for the ‘nice socks’ distraction, but, afraid of having used it one too many times, Connor decides to ignore the pleasantries and just get going. There’s a table of antiques next to him; Connor grabs the closest heavy object, a brass candlestick, and lobs it at Nelson’s head. The former Juvey-cop manages to duck, but not entirely, and the metal clips him on the temple.

Nelson grunts in pain and angrily points the gun towards Connor, who frantically hurls himself to the floor. The shot misses, shattering a glass cabinet and sending the contents showering to the floor. Connor picks himself up and sprints away, hoping Nelson’s more interested in him than staying to finish off Risa and Sonia.

Luckily, the guy’s got blinders on for anything that isn’t his least favorite AWOL, and Nelson gives chase immediately. Unluckily, this means that more bullets are directed Connor’s way. He skids through a series of small displays, using the advantage of a few tight corners to remove himself from Nelson’s immediate line of vision, then ducks into a hiding space below a desk. There, he waits, one hand clamped over his mouth so Nelson can’t hear him breathing.

Nelson stalks slowly from room to room, Connor can hear the thud of his boots against the ground. “Come out, Connor,” Nelson calls, “Let’s settle this like men. You can’t hide forever.”

Maybe not, but he can certainly push off more fighting as long as he can. Nelson was a cop once, he’s got way more combat training than Connor. Connor’s only hope is to stay one step ahead and confuse him into letting down his guard. There’s no way he’s winning a direct fistfight, so Connor has to be as difficult as possible.

Something dense thuds on the ground, then the glug of liquid pouring out follows the sound. Connor has no idea what that could be, but there’s no mistaking the subsequent click of a lighter. “If you won’t come out on your own, I have no problem smoking you out. I hear that’s best when taking care of rats. You have to burn down their nest to kill the young.”

Connor does not know much about rats, nor the proper method of extermination, but at this moment he doesn’t like any of it. Nelson is just as stuck in here as Connor if the antiques shop goes up in flames, but Connor realizes with a sinking feeling that Nelson doesn’t care about getting out if Connor doesn’t either. As long as Connor dies first, Nelson is happy.

Connor, however, needs his friends to stay alive. He rolls out from under the desk to find Nelson crossing over the threshold of the room. The former Juvey-cop bares his teeth in a grin. “See, there you are. I knew you’d let your feelings get in the way of your own self preservation.”

He holds up the lighter triumphantly over a slick of what might be rubbing alcohol or gasoline. Connor tries to stay cool, but his hands twitch at his sides. “Easy, man. You don’t want to blow yourself up, too.”

“How considerate of you to think about me,” Nelson muses. “I won’t return the favor.”

With that, he drops the lighter. The liquid immediately erupts into flames, streaking out of the room and into the next with lightning speed. Connor shouts in despair, but it’s too late. He can only hope that Risa was able to get Sonia out, that the unwinds in the basement could get the window open. Hope is all he has left. That, and the undeniable anger coursing through his veins. Nelson wants to play with fire, does he? Connor is more than willing to follow suit.

He’s not stupid enough to start a fight in a burning house, so he runs for the back door, which opens up into a barren grassy patch hemmed in by a fence. Good; Connor doesn’t want Nelson running. If Connor is the only one that survives the fire, he will make sure Nelson pays for it.

Connor makes it out the door first, so he has enough time to pick up a rock and hurl it at Nelson’s head as the Juvey-cop chases him out. This time, Nelson doesn’t duck, and the man cries out in pain as the rock connects directly with his left eye. Whatever Unwind’s eyeball ended up in Nelson’s face, he hopes that they’re not aware of the injury. He wants only Nelson to feel the agony of the blood welling up in the ruined socket.

Nelson clutches the bloody wound, swearing at Connor. “Do you know how costly those things can get on the black market? I’ll have to replace it with yours to even things out.”

“Try it. See what happens,” Connor dares him, and lunges for the man.

Nelson’s sense of balance is still impacted by the blow to the head, so Connor manages to tackle him around the middle before Nelson is even aware that he’s attacking. They roll around on the ground for a little bit, exchanging punches back and forth, before Connor is able to force him onto his back. From there, it’s easy to keep him pinned and rain blows upon his face.

He used to get in fights a lot before the unwind order, it’s all coming back to him now. Nelson tries to shove the barrel of the gun towards Connor, but Connor knocks it out of his hand in an instant. The man’s face is almost unrecognizable by now, but Connor isn’t done yet. This man is responsible for so many teenagers being unwound, doesn’t he deserve this punishment? He, too, should be in pieces. Connor can arrange that.

Nelson tries to shout something, but the words come out garble and broken around his swollen tongue. It’s going to attract attention, if the inferno behind them hasn’t brought scrutiny already. To shut him up, Connor wraps his hands around Nelson’s throat and starts to squeeze. It’s easy at first, just a matter of applying pressure. One of his hands– the right one, Connor thinks, but he’s not entirely aware of the difference nor why it should matter– tries to back out, but Connor redoubles his efforts. Nelson is not getting away. Not this time. Not ever.

It takes Connor a long time to realize that the man is no longer moving. Longer still to realize why. Connor has never killed someone before. He didn’t think he could, but. Sometimes we learn things about ourselves later than we expect.

Connor falls to his knees, leaning back slightly as he stares at his handiwork. His heart beats an urgent, irregular beat, telling him what he has known for a while now but is certain of today: he is a terrible, terrible person. Lev wouldn’t blow up Happy Jack, even Roland couldn’t kill, but Connor could. There are no lines he would not cross, no boundaries he cannot push. He is, at last, well and truly feral. No wonder the world wants him in pieces.

People are starting to emerge from their houses, attracted by the glow of the fire and the jumbled shouts of the fight. Connor is sheltered by the fence and hedges for now, but soon they’ll come for him and find the bloodied corpse of the former Juvey-cop. There are very few people who would mourn for Jasper T. Nelson, if there are indeed any at all, but any witnesses will see a dead man and a living killer and know who is worse off at the moment. The dead rest. The living do not.

Risa finds him first. She skids over the ground to him, throwing her arms around his shoulders. Dimly, Connor is reminded of tackling Nelson to the ground, one rough arm against his throat, but this is Risa, this is different, this has to be different. Not everything in this world brings death. Still, it’s hard to remember now.

“It’s over,” Risa breathes against his ear, “It’s over. Let’s go home.”

Connor isn’t looking at her, though, he’s watching the flecks of burning paper float down around him like snow. In his head, he’s a kid again, bundled up in a parka and too-big snow boots. He’ll grow into them; so will his brother, in a few years. Now Lucas gets new clothes and Connor gets nothing at all. Lucas has had two winters now of being the first one to run out into the yard in the fresh snow, of sinking the first boot prints into the endless expanse of white, and Connor hopes to God he’s loved it.

Connor stretches out a shaking, blood-spattered hand and picks up one of the pieces. It’s an envelope, the contents either ripped away in the wind or already burnt to bits. Right now, the delivery address is damn near indistinguishable from the coarse ash rubbed against it, but Connor can pick out the words by heart:

Claire & Kirk Lassiter

3048 Rosenstock Road

Columbus, Ohio 43017

As he watches, the smoke from one corner of the envelope picks up into a spark, which turns into a flame that gnaws away the words one by one. Like unwinding, his mind whispers. Each letter ripped away to some new fate. Risa has to pluck the quickly burning paper out from between his fingers so Connor doesn’t scorch himself. He doesn’t even notice the flames are at his flesh until a dull, throbbing ache some time later.

Connor is still in Ohio. He’s within driving distance of his house, but there is something Connor has known from the moment he came back here, from the moment Sonia put that letter in his hands again, from the moment he throttled Nelson until the light left his eyes: he can never go back. That house is for the whole, and although Connor still has possession of all of his limbs, he cannot ever be described as such again. He is not his father’s son. He is not his mother’s boy. If there was ever a Connor who could return to the Lassiter family, he is not the one who just strangled a man to death. There is no place in Ohio that Connor can ever return to again.

“No,” Connor chokes out, half-gagging on the wet slurry of ash and blood in his mouth, “No. I have no home.”

Risa’s saying something soothing about how that’s not true, he’ll always have her, and they’ll find a way, they always have, but he’s not listening anymore. Instead, Connor’s face is tilted back, letting the sun wash over the gouges on his cheeks, his split lip, the bruises already flowering under his skin. He stares once into that blinding light, then snaps his eyes shut.

The elder Lassiter boy is dead. Only Connor remains.

requested by @bopeisdope, i hope you enjoy!

unwind tag list: @schroedingers-kater, @sirofreak, @locke-writes

all tags list: @wordsarelife

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the-s1lly-corner · 6 months

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.....i hate that you converted me. Fine, you win, may i please request Itward comforting reader? The post about matchmaking(specifically the bit where they get locked up) made me feel. Things.

I just think it would be interesting to see usually laidback and chill reader crumble a little at this. Specifically because i hate hate hate things going out of control when i expect them to be predictable. Outside? Yeah, i cannot control the world, it's not my burden. In a group of people? Well am a part of it only, so i can only do my thing and socialize, not police what they're doing.(althrough i do so.. sometimes.. i just like being reliable..) But in MY LIVING ROOM? Nah, if something unusual is happening i'm stressed. Oh the door is closed? Well fuck, just gonna have to sit here and panic, then rage for a bit and try not to cry. And if its a tight/dark space? OHOOHOOO, a panic attack is waiting!

Itward comforting reader !

Yahoo I'm finally getting to this ehehehe!! Hope you enjoy this!

As for the converting

Giggles

Evilly smiles

The evil spell has worked (evil spell is my writing and character interpretations)

Also that last bit gave me an idea so this post is gonna tackle two settings, in terms of where you guys get locked up >:)

Side note today today by jack stauber reminds me of itward idk why

So it may have.. left my mind.. but I forgot that itward can kinda. Teleport. Or at least make little portals, as seen in chapter 1... as well as being able to just vanish as seen when he opens the window for fran in the twins house (not sure if that was him becoming invisible or teleporting, both seem in character)

But let's say, for the sake of plot and perhaps some character stuff... there are rules for his abilities, which can prevent him from using them. Mostly cooldown stuff, which.. wouldnt prevent it much unless hes doing it a lot but.. hush, I dont have many ideas!!

With that said, let's get on with the post!

Assuming you guys are locked in a room within the ship:

At first only you notice the door shutting. Itward doesnt notice it wont open until he goes to exit, only to find you're both stuck. Lets also say this is the only room with one exit; so the chemistry room most likely. Though if it were any of the other rooms, we can assume the second exit is also locked down

Itward would likely think that it's a malfunction of sorts, thanks to the doors not being manual push/pull doors... probably silently curses himself for not thinking about the possibility of a jam

Though, hes very clearly a skilled mechanic and engineer, so hes already thinking of what could be the issue and how to fix it

Probably gets way too sucked in taking off the button panel thing to get into the mechanics and wiring... it's not until he notices you quietly freaking out that he looks over his shoulder to check on you

Oh..

Oh dear..

Slowly drops the spare tools he keeps on him (I mean.. we DID see him pull a wrench out of no where when he started working on his ship during the fire berry thing... perhaps he keeps them within his bones? Like his rib cage? Like obviously it was just the game trying to save time from hydt having him pull one out rather than animate him picking one up from the ground buuuuut I'm silly)

Quietly asks if youre alright

A silly question, he can admit, hes been around many people and this is no new sight for him..

Barely refrains from putting a hand on your shoulder but stops before he reaches you, afterall hes never seen you like this and he doesnt know if you're okay with touch

Assures you that he will have the door open soon, correctly assumes that that is the issue... I mean, he can understand why it's scary, I mean, to be trapped like that. No one would like that

(Ignore that he did the same to fran, albeit non maliciously)

Refuses to get to work on the door (doesnt even realize hes prolonging the issue) until he can get through to you and help you

Hangs onto every word you say, and delivers anything you need

Need a hug? He will wrap his arms around you, and perhaps even purr. Need reassurance? He'll let you know the door is just jammed and he will fix it soon enough. Need to fill the silence? Itward will rattle on about things to keep it from going wuirt5

As soon as the door is opened he steps out of the way, letting you exit first

Keeps a close eye on you for a few hours after the fact

If you guys get locked in a closet

This one is already way worse thanks to the limited wiggle room as well as the darkness. The only light is coming from itwards eyes, and even then its not a lot

You guys are pressed up against each other, but this little scenario is not at cheesy or romantic... itward can feel your heart beating against him, so he immediately knows something is wrong

How did you guys even end up trapped here?

I dunno :3

It's too tight and cramped to move, so itward trying to force the door open or mess with the button panel is a no go.. really, of all the doors to have a manual door, the broom closet should have been the one to have it..

Honestly I think he tries 1 of 3 things

Force the door open with his strength (can he do that? We know that in terms of his powers hes packs a bit of a punch, he managed to face off remor to buy fran time in chapter 1, but I'm unsure of how strong he is physically)..though hed have to try to twist around to face the door

Knock on the door with his foot to try to get someones attention for help, and perhaps guide them through how to open the door

Or three, try his little teleporting trick and take you with him

Regardless of what option he goes through, he can't deny that theres something wrong with you

Unfortunately of you need a hug he cant, given the limited room.. plus you may feel claustrophobic enough..

Tries to give nervous reassurances as he tries to come up with an idea

Most likely case is the teleporting thing, assuming he has the capabilities of doing so in that moment

But just know as soon as you guys are free hes sitting you down at the table in the main area of his ship and making you a cup of tea

Quietly asks you if everythings alright

Similarly, he keeps a close eye on you for a while after this

#itward headcannons #itward imagine #itward x reader #fran bow itward #itward

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