#most stupid and pointless thing to say ever but its so not fair!!!!!!!! its so fucking unfair

[toastsnaffler]

hmm. I think I am maybe not coping very well 🤔🤔🤔🤔🤔🤔

#sorry for angry venting im very upset + frustrated + have to put it somewhere just ignore me #I hate being on such a hair trigger all the time hate feeling everything so violently why can't I just feel shit like a normal person!!!! #most stupid and pointless thing to say ever but its so not fair!!!!!!!! its so fucking unfair #like I would never want anyone else to feel like this ever but why should I!!!!! fucks sake fucking hell i want to bash my head thru a wall #whatever. whatever!!!!!! #I wish I had someone safe to talk to I wish I could trust ppl and be open with them and not have to control every tiny fucking thing #just to make myself small enough and tolerable enough for anyone to be around I wish I was enough!!!!!! #but its fucking stupid to even wish bc I have to do all the work myself and its never enough and eventually ill die abt it. whatever. #backup coping mechanisms arent even accessible rn how the fuck am I supposed to vent these feelings safely. ugh #its fine ill be fine i need to take a fucking shower and eat #.vent

[ms-cartoon]

Usually, I wouldn’t post about this kinda thing... I’m not even sure this is fully necessary to be posted. I don’t wanna make it seem like I’m trying to grab attention or pity or anything like that just so someone could feel bad for me. No, that’s not the point of this post. But its mostly to show how sensitive and toxic fans could get about a youtube show that’s not even that good. 

I’m sorry to all the Vivzipop stans, but whether it’s a fact or opinion of mine, Helluva Boss is NOT the greatest thing on earth people. And it’s not just because of the writing or the characters. It’s just not that good. This web series is not pitch-perfect! It should not be that great to where you should feel the need to go after people who don’t like it.

If you love this show to death to the point where you would call it your most favorite series, then fine. It’s whatever. LOVE the show. I really don’t care. I’m not gonna judge someone for liking something I don’t like. I’m not THAT immature! I’m not gonna make a comment on someone’s post, calling anyone stupid or crazy for shipping Stolitz or saying Stolas or Blitzo are well-written characters or that Stolas makes a great father. I don’t even bother to make a comment on a post about people not liking critiques about HB/HH, saying something like, “Those haters don’t know what they’re talking about!” “What is wrong with these critiques??” “This is a bad take!” Mostly because I would just be wasting my breath.

So with that being said, why make those same comments on a simple critical post!!??

So I made a post about the recent gif of the new and upcoming episode of Helluva Boss. It’s shown with Striker capturing Stolas and they make a ride somewhere on a horse (which is a complete waste of time. Your main objective is to kill him. Just shoot the frikin bird!) And I was mainly ranting about how it didn’t make sense that Stolas was getting captured. I was saying that despite being tied up he could’ve used his abilities and turned Striker into a stone like he did with an imp in episode 2 of season 1, or not even just that, just any of his powers. Though I did make a fair statement saying that whatever was tied around him could be some sort of special angelic rope that could be keeping him from using his powers. All while also pointing out that he is still free to move his legs cuz they don’t appear to be tied together. And his hand is free; he’s on the phone with Blitzo. I also opinionated that this might be another Stolitzo-centric episode and I was not going to like it. And THAT was when the hate comments came my way (No kidding, honestly)

One of them didn’t even seem like it was harassment, but it still annoyed me how they said I was just whining and complaining. They said, “Duh! Blitzo and Stolas are the main couple!” and “If you don’t like it, then don’t watch!” “What’s the problem with it?”

You wanna know why that’s a problem?

Okay. First off... Stolas and Blitzo are NOT EVEN A COUPLE! I don’t know where the crew is going with these two, but they’re not even official yet. Plus, there is no point continuing with the Stolitz-centric BS if it’s going to take long for them to become a thing. And how can they be?? How would it even make sense? I highly doubt Stolas would even make a good boyfriend. Stolas being the horny perverted dick-for-brains that he is does nothing but flirt with Blitzo and makes inappropriate remarks at him to the point where they have to censor his words. All he ever did was make Blitzo uncomfortable, and he knew that!! 

Not to mention he forced Blitzo into an agreement to have sex with him each month in exchange for a book which is totally pointless now! Especially when there’s this thing called asmodean crystals, where you could use them to go to the living world anytime you want!! And at that moment, he saw through one of the bath bubbles that Blitzo was in the middle of a dangerous predicament and STILL decided to call him at the worst time just to make this deal. Since it was in the heat of the moment, Blitzo felt he had to agree with him just so he could end the conversation and get back to finishing his job while staying alive. That just goes to show me that Stolas was using this to his advantage to make Blitzo agree with him since he saw what was going on and decided to call him while his life was on the line. He totally knew what he was doing!! And since being caught by humans is SUCH a bad thing and would cost your reputation, why risk that kind of possibility with no ounce of concern for your “boyfriend’s” safety?

And instead of seeing Blitzo as a person with FEELINGS, why does Stolas call him his, “Impish Little Plaything”? He’s practically telling Blitzo, “I OWN YOU!” He was literally taking advantage of him and manipulating him!!! And if he loves Blitzo oh so much, why does Stolas still feel so entitled while looking down on the imp race! He’s not even as nice to Moxxie or Millie. And he even abused his butler!!

And then there was that time on their date when Asmodeus was calling him out on having an affair with Blitzo and had the absolute NERVE to try and hide his face!! Why was he suddenly embarrassed about that anyway? This was NOT the first time where he was seen in public with him. He was fully obligated to show himself at the door with Blitzo in front of that guard that wouldn’t let him in. He even flirted with Blitzo in front of everybody at that Harvest Moon Festival!! And now, all of a sudden, he’s embarrassed to be seen with? And he had the AUDACITY to invite Blitzo into his home to cuddle with him!!! 

It’s not like Blitzo is innocent in this either. He also manipulated Stolas just to get what he wanted. Not once, but twice. He tricked Stolas into stealing all of his father’s belongings when they were kids. Tricked him ONCE AGAIN when they grew up, seducing him as a way to distract him while stealing his grimoire. Blitzo didn’t even care about him. He probably didn’t even want to see him after all those years! He was just there to take the book and LEAVE!! And he only went along with having sex with him out of pity.

How can we even call these two a couple, yet Blitzo was so quick to let Sharkboy bang him in his room! And why did we hear Stolas call Striker “sexy” while on the phone with Blitzo in one of the leaks???

Yeah... main couple my ass....

These commenters go on to say something like, “You’re not critiquing! All you’re doing is complaining! You’re just being a hater!!” 

Now, let me explain the difference between criticism and hate:

Criticism - the expression of disapproval of someone or something based on perceived faults or mistakes.

or 

the analysis and judgment of the merits and faults of a literary or artistic work.

Criticism can be positive or negative. I mostly give negative criticism while also showing some irritation and annoyance about whatever I’m talking about. I’m pretty sure that’s mostly where they think I’m just complaining or hating on it.

 Okay, so I like to express my feelings... so what??? EVERYONE does it when they give a critical analysis. And I’ll admit, I do hate the show. I definitely don’t feel for it like I did when the pilot first came out. But at least I actually have A REASON for hating it. More than a few reasons in fact. 

Speaking of hate -

Hate - the feeling of intense or passionate dislike for someone or something.

People always say that hate is a strong word, and I can agree. But the difference is that when you hate something, there is no reason or logic. When you hate something, you don’t care at all about wanting that something to improve or get better than how it is. It doesn't matter, because you just hate it that much! All there is is mockery and disrespect. And when you express hate, you’re attacking someone or harassing them with your harsh words.

And me hating something is different, cuz at least I’m actually expressing the reason why I don’t like it. And I’m not trying to harass ANYONE!! I’m just saying what I think is wrong, why I think it’s wrong, and that I don’t like it! And I actually WANT HB to get better.

Some may think I’m complaining about something when really all I’m doing is stating a fact or opinion.

"the writers will come up with a stupid bad reason” is not a good critique, it's just complaining.

Well sh*t, am I lying??? Man cheats on his wife, and we all know cheating is wrong, no matter why he did it. Oh, but wait- turns out she’s very abusive toward him and doesn’t love him at all! So now, it’s suddenly okay that he cheats. And despite hating him, she still decides to stick around and not divorce him just because she likes to torment him. Why does she like to torment him? Who knows! She’s just evil by nature as it turns out! Man could divorce said wife himself, but only sticks around for the sake of his daughter so she could live a normal life even though he and his wife already constantly fight in front of her. Can’t ignore the fact that he flirts with someone in front of her and continues his affair with that someone despite how she felt about it.... and he just wants her to be happy....

Yeah... definitely makes total sense.

Then they say this, “Maybe Stolas isn’t escaping because it’s a comedy show, DUH!! Things aren’t supposed to make sense. Sometimes things happen and you have to go along with it.”

No...No, sweetheart. That’s not how things work. Besides, for a comedy show that’s not supposed to make sense and be taken seriously, they really try their hardest to tackle some serious moments that are supposed to be soo emotional. And with the way THEY’RE doing it, it’s not very easy for me to just go along with it. There are some things I just can’t ignore and I’m going to feel annoyed by them. I’m sorry (I’m really not)

And as for, “If you don’t like it, then don’t watch it!”

Let me tell y’all somethin’.... If I wanna criticize and post about shows that I think need criticism, then I’m gonna continue to watch the show. If I wanna put anti-tags on posts, then will do that. And if I wanna watch something simply to laugh and make fun of it, then I will. If YOU don’t like that, then that’s on you. Just know that all you’re doing is wasting time typing your butthurt comments about me “complaining” about something knowing damn well I’m going to continue making criticism regardless of how you feel when you can simply just ignore me. Better yet, just BLOCK ME so you won’t have to see me complain about your precious favorite show ever again. I don’t understand what’s so hard about that. It won’t take but a couple of clicks of a button. 

And lastly, one of these comments go on to harass me, calling me pathetic and mentioning this, “How could you hate on something, make art of it and sell it?? You can’t even come up with anything creative on your own! How pathetic!” And it is a VERY stupid reason to come at me over a criticism post. I don’t like HB, there are a lot of people who don’t like HB, but lots of other folks do. So I make art of it and I sell it. And it’s not like I’m intentionally stealing anything. I know I’m drawing the same art style, but I’m creating my own designs of my OCs. I’m not the only person who does this, mind you! I’ve seen plenty of artists do this on Twitter and Deviantart. So what this person is trying to point out here is completely irrelevant!

I may have replied back and said, “There are other people who do this kinda thing. So go and harass them! Go back and forth on their post!” I really didn’t wanna recommend they do this to other people, so I apologize on behalf of the people who sell art with this style or criticize this show for saying that. I was mostly just telling them what’s the point of coming at me for this reason when other people do it too. Like I said, all they’re doing is wasting their time knowing we are never going to hear them out.

So yeah, I just wanted to put this out there. These guys really irritated me. Looks like I joined the club, being harassed by toxic fans. Maybe I shouldn’t have bothered replying to them and going back and forth with them. These guys were probably twelve years old. There’s no point in me arguing with children, cuz they never admit when they’re wrong. But if I feel that someone sh*t-talking me, then I won’t let it slide!!

#helluva boss blitzo #Helluva Boss #criticism #critique #critisism #helluva boss criticism #helluva boss critical #helluva boss critique #toxic #toxic fans #Helluva stans #helluva boss fans #anti stolitz #anti helluva boss #anti blitzo #anti stolas #indie animation #stop harassing people

[system-of-a-feather]

Here's the thing I feel a lot of people have a lot of trouble wrapping their heads around regarding my trauma responses and mental health profile and all is just that some of my arguably most "symptomatic" moments tend to ALSO be my most productive - either on a personal or societal level. And I don't mean to say that in a good way either.

I can't really properly genuinely and full heartedly feel right complaining because in the end of the day, my life gets better and better at a rapid rate and most decisions while biting off a lot more immediate stress do make it so that I am doing way better than other people in my situation would

But at the same time, it never stops and even if everything I do makes my life better and better, I really really don't know how to stop and I struggle to stop and due to a combination of trauma-driven behavior and just shit that is so so so so deeply ingrained, every time I get a moment of extended peace, I end up creating a really good, really productive multi month plan and just consume my time that way.

And I know that I'm doing it - every time I know that I am doing it, but I can't really just say no when the alternative is that I have to sit with the extreme discomfort of stagnancy and sit in an experience I am not used to, be aware of and tolerate a state of stress and misery when I know how to fix it, and just generally knowingly doing what I am certain would be a positive in favor of a hypothetical, theoretically healthy "break"

As a result, I rarely really get the chance to stop and take a break. I rarely get the chance to stop and ENJOY the fruit of my labor. I always have a moment in the future to work for and it's exhausting.

Anyways, I just made a huge plan that is gonna take up a good chunk of time and I am super excited but I'm also, just for a minute looking at myself and sighing, cause its a huge hassle and I am once again filling my down time with manufactured challenges.

Yeah the challenges will greatly help my life so it isn't POINTLESS challenges, but again - I always have to ask myself - where is the end to this?

Every year, every month, every time, that's the question I always have to ask and I never really have a satisfactory answer - only loose theoreticals.

At what point, can I just enjoy existing?

At what point will I stop chasing an amorphous "when things are right" and "when nothing can disrupt our security" and "when I have [insert environmental change]".

Cause honestly, at this point, all I want is a place and sustainable life style to roost in. I wanna make a nest and just sleep in it. I'm probably not Riku, either Fei or some fragment part, because I know Riku TM has so many projects that theyd want to work on IN their roost, but I dunno. I personally just honestly want to stop having to have three bags packed and ready to fly the coop

I really really can't complain though. This flight, while absolutely driven by this extremely entrenched maladaptive coping mechanism and a total flight response to life challenges, is a very very very smart decision and direction to go and I think its a good idea and will help us in the long run and all that on a mental, financial, socio-emotional, and physical level, but I really can't say I'm not tired of Doing This.

For context, since I don't think we ever said it, Riku felt moderately anxious and mildly depressed (they have been this whole time because they can't sit and wait for other people to give information so they can plan things) and checked up on a thing and in less than 48 hours

>decided they were going to assume PhDs all were rejecting us (fair) rather than hoping cause our system really doesn't do "hope" we just Do Action >decided they were done living in California cause its stupid expensive >decided to check out jobs in Colorado (one of our ideal long term end goal states to live in) >decided to apply to three >got an interview back for 2 >got a job offer >began active coordination with our fiance to move to Colorado

And it's great, it honestly really is. (figured it out, mostly Chunn lol) On all levels its a good idea and it brings us closer to the "when we have [nonexhaustive list of things that need to be met in life] we can enjoy" which is honestly something we need + we've been needing to get out of this area that we grew up in mental health wise. The level of which we can confidentally make these decisions as a whole and our ability to plan and what not is great and amazing

It's just also like.... damn we really work fast and sometimes its hard to keep up with ourselves man.

Honestly, I'm looking forward to it. I am, there's like so many great places for me to walk and bike and sit and shit there compared to here. I just also am still the part that is a variation of Data who I know would be having an aneurysm and this is all a lot for my headass that just wants to sit and look at trees.

Sometimes I'm too autistic for this system and how fast they move and make changes. It's ableist, I struggle with transitions //joking//

#alter: chunn #chunn chats #vent #vent tw #colorado saga

[pesterass]

twistedEcclesiastic [TE] began trolling tawdryCaricaturist [TC]

TE: I aM herE ouT oF purE fuckinG desperatioN. I aM minD-fuckinG fuckinglY fuckinG BOREd TE: mY matespriT iS DEAd oR likE probablY sleepinG anD I donT reallY talK tO anythinG elsE?? TE: anD yourE A faT stupiD fuckinG punchinG baG anD thatS FUn. NYEHEHEHEH TC: aww im really that entertaining to you? : P TC: i thought you had lots of other troll friends karmis! what happened?? TE: dO yoU havE dementiA?? wheN diD I eveR saY I havE trolL friendS I fuckinG HATe EVERYONe TC: well they all seem to know about you! i just figured you were all friends : ) TC: so if your lying your not really doing a good job of it right now : P TE: thatS jusT becausE I makE enemieS whereveR I gO NYEHEHEHEH TE: fucK thA haterS TC: haha true : ) TC: arent you a hater though? TC: just like in general TE: yeaH duH. fucK mE fucK yoU I donT givE A shiT! NYEH TE: whateveR. I donT carE foR labelS TC: thats cool me neither : ) TC: your friends are cool though i think you should hate on them a little less TE: ugH fucK WHo arE yoU EVEn TALKINg ABOUt???!!!! TC: ummm TC: well i met rozzie the robot and the guy that built him TC: he made it sound like your friends with him : ) TC: unless he was lying? TC: i dunno he sounded kind of tricky TE: STOp TYPINg!!! TC: WHAT? TE: STOp TE: rozziE iS NOt mY "frienD". fuckinG perioD! enD oF storY!! TE: itS A triggeR happY psychopathiC littlE freaK anD thaT nerD lukE needS tO keeP iT oN A leasH TC: his name is luke? TC: you guys are aliens and one of you is named luke? TE: welL youR namE iS ryaN. NYEHEHEH TE: hiS namE iS lukeiS anywayS TC: luke is what? TE: lukeiS TC: oh thats his name? TC: how do you even pronouns that TE: whaT iS fuckinG wronG witH yoU arE yoU actuallY braiN damageD? TC: no im actually normal!! sheesh TC: anyways LUKEIS (still weird) says that hes your best friend : ) TC: trust me! TE: whaT fuckinG eveR? I donT reallY carE TC: are you sure? TE: arE yoU stupid? TC: i dunno! TC: you came to me for entertainment so you dont get to complain TC: dummy TC: hey so whats a matesprit? is that another weird word your going to make fun of me for not knowing about TE: yeS iT iS! NYEH. lonelY loseR dickwaD TE: alsO I donT knoW whaT itS likE oN youR stupiD planeT buT oN ourS wE havE A littlE thinG calleD freedoM oF insultS sO I caN complaiN alL I wanT TC: yeah i guess we have something like that! its called bullying TE: "meeeH meeH meeH mY namE iS wayaN yourE bullyinG mE becausE iM sO stupiD anD I donT eveN knoW whaT A matespriT iS oR probablY eveN hoW tO spelL halF thE alphabeT meeH meeH" TC: i didnt say that! TE: yeS yoU diD looK yoU jusT diD, weirdO TC: how come your allowed to complain but im not? thats kind of stupid TC: if your going to try to be mean you might as well be fair about it! >: P TE: therE yoU fuckinG gO agaiN beinG thE mosT stupiD persoN iN thE fuckinG universE. itS likE yourE ADDICTED TE: I neveR eveR saiD yoU couldnT complaiN itS jusT youR complaintS arE 1.stupiD 2.dumB 3.bullshiT 4.pathetiC(verY) 5.donT matteR. NYEH TE: NYEHEHEH TC: i guess but you complain about EVERYTHING TC: literally every single little thing TC: i think that makes your complaints even more pointless TC: i dont really take you seriously anymore : P TE: diD I asK yoU thougH? TE: XP TC: hehehe TE: yoU caN takE mE seriouslY oR noT, aS lonG aS yourE stilL A stupiD nobodY I wiN X) TE: yoU arE fuckinG dirT undeR mY cooL shoeS, PATHETIc TE: NYEHEHEHEH TC: suuuuure karmis : P TE: lalalalalalalA I canT heaR yoU TC: yeah you can : ) TE: whaT? TC: okay if you cant here me then i guess you wont react to me calling you a STUPID JERK TC: karmis smells like AAAAAAAAAAASS!!! >: D TE: nyeH TE: NYEHEHEHEHEHEH TE: NYEHEHEHEHEHEHEHEHEHEHEH X) TC: nyehehe! >: P TE: heY thatS My THINg TWERp TC: SEE you heard me : D

twistedEcclesiastic [TE] ceased trolling tawdryCaricaturist [TC]

#homestuck #pesterass #homestuck oc #fantroll #karmis gazmaz #ryan carter

[pesterloglog]

Dave Strider, Dirk Strider

Act 6, page 7917-7922

DAVE: damn

DAVE: and i thought our houses were pointlessly tall before

DAVE: it just doesnt stop from keep constantly getting more and more vertically enormous

DIRK: Shit is downright precipitous at this point.

DIRK: Like, upways.

DAVE: haha yeah

DAVE: we made sure as fuck not to come right out and literally describe that building as tall

DIRK: Hell yes.

DIRK: Who needs small and serviceable adjectives when the most ass-backwards way of saying a thing is right there, tantalizingly hidden within the vast ocean of language.

DIRK: Like a treasure in a huge shitty clam.

DAVE: we are way on the same page philosophically here

DIRK: Who is surprised by this?

DIRK: Zero people, is who.

DAVE: sounds like a club for losers to me

DAVE: theyre lucky they dont have any members, otherwise theyd all be lame as hell

DIRK: Yeah.

DAVE: so uh

DAVE: why do the houses need to be so tall again

DAVE: i never actually understood that

DAVE: except to reach the gates but once we all figured out how to fly and shit that became so pointless

DIRK: Yeah. After a while in the game, building kind of stopped mattering.

DIRK: Except near the end. Getting them to the top is just a point of completion.

DIRK: Then you dump the grist rig on top of it, apparently.

DIRK: That lets the thing spray out all the grist from the hoard in the planet's core, kind of like a huge oil derrick I guess.

DAVE: oh

DAVE: how do you know this

DAVE: do you guys have like a manual or

DIRK: I'm in communication with Arquiusprite.

DIRK: He's working on it now.

DAVE: so youre in communication with him like...

DAVE: RIGHT now?

DIRK: Yes.

DIRK: Via my shades.

DIRK: Which he incidentally used to be.

DIRK: Like, as a computer, which he lived inside as my Auto-Responder.

DAVE: right

DAVE: and

DAVE: uh

DAVE: why... did you make that thing again

DAVE: not that you ever told me before

DAVE: 'again' is just like a stammering tack-on to that sentence so as to try and not sound too fucking rude

DIRK: I don't think it's a rude question. It's perfectly fair to wonder what was going through my head when I made him.

DIRK: I've spent a lot of time wondering about that myself.

DAVE: so you just

DAVE: straight up programmed a copy of your brain

DIRK: There was some programming involved, but also a bit of cheating, through the mapping of a captchalogued ghost-imprint of my brain.

DIRK: I guess part of it was just about trying to understand myself.

DIRK: But I don't think I would have put it that way at the time. For a while I insisted he was meant to be a "debate partner" or some horseshit.

DIRK: I was pretty young, and had some stupid ideas.

DIRK: About irony in particular. But also a lot of mostly faux-intellectual thoughts on a wide variety of topics.

DIRK: Like philosophy, consciousness, programming, identity, history, ancient pop-culture... really it ran the full gamut of pretension.

DIRK: Not that I don't still find that stuff interesting. I'd just like to think I'm somewhat less full of shit about it all now.

DAVE: yeah me too

DAVE: i mean, about my interests and stuff

DIRK: Creating him was an interesting exercise I guess, but over the years I came to see his development as one of my biggest mistakes.

DIRK: He sort of turned into a monster. But I could never bring myself to get rid of him, or even really blame him for being an asshole, because he wasn't actually that different from me.

DIRK: Like, by definition.

DIRK: He seems alright as Arquius though. At least it keeps him busy, obsessing over his muscles, asking for milk and shit like that.

DAVE: hmm

DAVE: i guess i started some projects i regretted

DAVE: but nothin like making a milk weirdo eventually exist

DAVE: it sounds fucked up but is also kind of an awesome story in its own way

DIRK: I guess so.

DAVE: maybe im lucky i was never that good with computers

DAVE: now computer ART thats a different story

DAVE: ok it actually isnt i fuckin suck at that too

DAVE: but dammit i try my best and make some magic happen at least in my own mind so maybe thats good enough

DIRK: It certainly worked out for you in my universe.

DAVE: yeah

DAVE: i mean

DAVE: i DID captchalogue my own ghost brain once but i didnt know what to make of that and thought it was kinda weird so that never really went anywhere

DAVE: probably for the best

DIRK: It definitely is.

DIRK: Tinkering with your own mind, or identity or whatever... it's a dark road to go down.

DIRK: There are enough splinters of everyone running around out there as it is, just as a natural byproduct of our reality. For me in particular. Probably for you too, as a time player.

DIRK: That process doesn't need to be encouraged or fucked with.

DAVE: for real

DAVE: my bro did cool things with computers too

DAVE: i mean nothin like making a clone of his brain or anything thank god

DAVE: just some absurd bullshit with web bots and stuff mostly to help prop up his various "enterprises"

DIRK: You mean the porn stuff?

DAVE: yeah

DAVE: but with puppets of course

DAVE: it was always about the puppets

DIRK: Naturally.

DAVE: he made all these porn bots that would just talk to each other in a chatroom endlessly

DAVE: all like gettin each other riled up about squishy bottoms and whatnot

DAVE: actually it was pretty entertaining to watch them go at it for hours

DAVE: i think they may have been teetering on the threshold of SOMETHING resembling self awareness?

DAVE: except they only seemed to apply that faculty to reach even more heightened states of sexual excitement for a bunch of nude soft puppets

DIRK: That sounds...

DIRK: Oddly rewarding.

DIRK: I mean, not to say he wasn't still a douche.

DIRK: But as a pastime, cultivating a group of earnest, erotic puppet-loving chatbots sounds so much more relaxing than painstakingly constructing a version of your own brain, and then arguing with it for years thereafter.

DIRK: Almost like tending to a little flock of pigeons.

DAVE: yeah you know he did some cool things

DAVE: it wasnt necessarily all inherently terrible

DAVE: things i would really appreciate under better circumstances

DAVE: he definitely had a lot of drive and also some uh "ideas" that warranted a certain amount of respect i guess

DAVE: he just

DAVE: maybe should not have been allowed near a child?

DAVE: sall im sayin

DIRK: Sounds about right.

DIRK: We really don't have to talk about him anymore though, if it is going to stir up more bad shit for you.

DAVE: nah im alright

DAVE: i think that is all mostly out of my system

DAVE: i mean not forever because i dont think thats how things work

DAVE: i just mean my venting fit is over and im probably good for another 16 years or so and i can return to being mostly deadpan and rad

DIRK: Ok.

DIRK: Well, in sixteen years, if you need someone to vent to again, let me know.

DAVE: sure

DAVE: assuming we havent been killed by like 10 jacks before that i will

DAVE: you certainly seem to be the right guy for that

DIRK: For what?

DAVE: i mean like the most suitable recipient of my hysterical fits on that particular subject

DAVE: there is no way i would ever tell karkat all that

DAVE: i mean maybe some stuff but not ALL the stuff its just too heavy

DAVE: i certainly wasnt gonna mention the stuff to rose or john or jade or whoever else

DAVE: if i was ever gonna do one of my patented acrobatic pirouettes off that particular handle to anyone it really only could have been at him

DAVE: except he was dead

DAVE: and even if he wasnt and i did say all that shit

DAVE: theres no way it would have resulted in anything resembling reconciliation

DAVE: which i think

DAVE: was something i kinda needed

DAVE: but didnt realize it

DAVE: so....

DAVE: thank you for being a really plausible stand in for him who i could rip to shreds??

DAVE: while still being basically innocent of all that terrible garbage

DAVE: so you end up sorta being like an avatar for him that is much easier to forgive

DAVE: i mean

DAVE: maybe FORGIVE isnt the right word because im not sure he deserves that and anyway it doesnt matter because hes been dead for years and at this point is just an irrelevant deceased weirdo who doesnt matter anymore

DAVE: i guess i mean coming around to a place where i dont have to feel rotten all the time anymore

DAVE: and i guess im lucky i got to blunder into a reality that just happened to have the exact right version of a dude which made that possible for me

DAVE: sorry this fuckin ramble is really getting away from me

DAVE: i have no idea if im making sense anymore

DIRK: I think I get it.

DIRK: And sure.

DIRK: You're welcome for me existing.

DAVE: hey can that be like

DAVE: the motto on our family crest

DIRK: I think it already is.

DAVE: all that melodramatic sadbabble aside

DAVE: i think its perfectly cool if youre still curious about your adult self

DAVE: and i dont mind tellin you more stuff about him if you want

DAVE: i know im still wondering about what my adult self got up to

DIRK: Yeah.

DIRK: Well like I said, any time you want to know more, feel free to ask.

DAVE: kay how about

DAVE: we do this thing

DAVE: when i met roxy we did a thing

DIRK: A thing?

DAVE: yeah

DAVE: its called the lightning round

DIRK: That does sound like a Roxy thing.

DIRK: Does it by any chance involve asking a rapid-fire series of questions, some of which end up being a bit too personal or invasive?

DAVE: well yeah when she does it

DAVE: we could be chill though

DAVE: when it comes to asking about each others secret crushes and shit

DIRK: Then I guess I will disclaim in advance that I don't have any, and I don't care about yours even if you do.

DAVE: it is settled then on the fact that we are a couple of cool dudes who know where to draw the line on certain topics

DIRK: Cool.

DIRK: So how do we start.

DIRK: Whose lightning round is this, mine or yours?

DAVE: it can be yours go ahead shoot

DIRK: Ok.

DIRK: How...

DIRK: Did...

DIRK: He, um,

DIRK: Come to "adopt" you?

DAVE: i was a baby and i came down to earth on a meteor while riding a pony with a pink heart on its ass

DAVE: he found me in a crater on top of a dead pony and gave me a lil baby pair of shades that look exactly like the ones youre wearin now

DIRK: I see.

DIRK: So you decided to ditch those shades for the aviator glasses?

DAVE: yeah

DAVE: years ago john got me these for my bday

DAVE: it might have been like an "ironic dare" to wear them i dont remember

DAVE: but when i got em i was like hell yeah im wearing these

DAVE: gonna rock these fuckers til the end of time

DAVE: they were ben stillers

DAVE: like literally

DAVE: they actually touched his weird sort of gaunt face in one of his films

DIRK: Wait...

DIRK: THE Stiller?

DAVE: yeah

DIRK: Incredible.

DIRK: Also, such a shame what happened to that poor man.

DAVE: wait what happened to him

DIRK: I can tell you when it's your lightning round.

DIRK: Or mine. Whatever. I'm still not sure whose lightning round it is when you're the one asking questions.

DAVE: dunno ask roxy

DIRK: Ok. Anyway, didn't mean to interrupt.

DAVE: but yeah we would send each other stuff sometimes

DAVE: me and john

DAVE: well we all would

DAVE: usually absurd birthday packages and such

DIRK: We did that too.

DIRK: Except I had to send things through time.

DIRK: Always had to figure out stuff small enough to send through the sendificator, even if it was piece by piece.

DAVE: nice

DAVE: one time it turned out we ACCIDENTALLY sent presents through time

DAVE: i mean not literally, more in a roundabout way

DAVE: we all sent john a rabbit

DAVE: but all three rabbits just turned out to be the same damn rabbit

DAVE: because of stupid time shit

DIRK: Once I deliberately and quite literally sent a rabbit through time.

DIRK: It was a robot.

DAVE: wow

DIRK: He was a loyal friend to Jane. I don't know what happened to him though.

DAVE: yeah i dunno what happened to johns rabbits either

DAVE: rabbits am i right

DIRK: I hear you, man.

DAVE: what next

DIRK: Hm.

DIRK: You say he owned Cal as well?

DAVE: yep

DIRK: Did he come down to Earth on a meteor with Cal too?

DAVE: i think so

DAVE: that was a long time ago

DAVE: kinda weird to imagine him strutting around with that puppet as a kid in the 80s

DAVE: or maybe just kinda funny actually

DAVE: he sure held on to it a long time

DAVE: must have gotten attached at a really early age and just never let go

DAVE: i guess you fell to earth with one of those things too?

DIRK: Yeah.

DIRK: But if I came to Earth on a meteor the same way you all did, then I guess I just got dunked right in the fucking ocean.

DIRK: Which makes sense. One of my earliest memories is of using Cal as a flotation device.

DIRK: So he sorta saved my life in a way. I guess I bonded with him too, the way your bro did, even if that sounds a bit stupid.

DIRK: Then again, it didn't help matters much that I lived alone in the middle of the ocean. He was my only real life friend. I mean, until I built some new ones.

DAVE: hmm wait we fucked up

DAVE: i asked you a question its not my turn

DAVE: keep firing

DIRK: Ok.

DIRK: How did your bro die?

DAVE: he died fighting one of these jacks

DAVE: at this point i almost forget which one

DAVE: no wait

DAVE: ok yeah it was the omnipotent dog one

DAVE: the jack from our session

DAVE: he was fighting like a lesser form of him and then jack got extra prototyped by dog powers and then got outmatched and stabbed with his own sword

DAVE: pretty sure davesprite was fighting with him and almost died too but then it turned out he didnt

DAVE: but now im at least 99% sure that davesprite is DEFINITELY dead and wont suddenly reappear as a stupid surprise or anything

DIRK: I hate stupid surprises.

DAVE: word

DIRK: So, you said he "trained" you.

DIRK: I'm guessing that means he knew what was coming?

DIRK: Or, some things about your future, at least?

DAVE: seems that way

DAVE: not sure what he knew or how he knew it

DAVE: all our guardians seemed to know bits and pieces of stuff and did vague mysterious things to prepare

DAVE: to this day i have no idea if he was training me to fight lord english or if he even knew who that guy was on any conscious level

DAVE: or it was more like general purpose training to be able to survive some hard shit after the end of the world happened

DAVE: youd have to ask him but thats impossible

DAVE: i do know he managed to get the drop on a meteor before i entered the game

DIRK: What?

DAVE: as far as i can tell he stood on top of it and split it in half with his sword

DIRK: Um,

DIRK: Not to be too much of a wet blanket on that rad as fuck anecdote, but that sounds kind of far fetched.

DAVE: yeah it does doesnt it

DAVE: but then again so does a baby getting dunked from space in the ocean then floating on a weird doll and then growin up by himself with no adults around

DIRK: That's not far fetched. It was pretty straightforward.

DIRK: I think I just found a building poking out of the water, climbed up, then I just started foraging for food in there like a feral infant.

DIRK: Supplies which I'm sure your adult self must have left behind for me, seeing as he clearly must have known some things about the future too.

DIRK: Speaking of which, maybe it's your turn now?

DAVE: yeah ok

DAVE: questions about me hmm lets see

DAVE: ok FIRST the fuck of all

DAVE: what happened to ben stiller

DIRK: He was deemed a heretic, and was crucified on the Washington Monument by some clowns.

DAVE: wow

DIRK: Due to his dedication to freedom and peace, he came to be seen as a martyr, and then a holy figure.

DIRK: He was left on the monument as an example to all, but thousands of faithful gathered below to gaze up at his pious, sort of gaunt face.

DIRK: For years thereafter, his followers would carve stone busts of him in his memory, capturing the piercing glare of his final expression.

DIRK: But they were all smashed to pieces by the presidential church.

DIRK: That religious movement didn't last very long.

DIRK: Rumor has it the batterwitch had a lot of experience crushing righteous insurrections.

DAVE: did my adult self get pissed about stiller

DAVE: i bet he got pissed

DIRK: Yeah. There was a whole series of final insults that led to his active rebellion, instead of just producing subversive media.

DIRK: At one point, the witch "remastered" all of his films to clean up all the shitty artifacts, and released them in stunning high-def quality all over the world, using a rational business model and everything.

DIRK: That REALLY set him off.

DAVE: what the fuck

DAVE: how fucking dare that woman

DAVE: so then he tried to kill the batterwitch right

DAVE: who is the same exact alien as the condesce in this session??

DIRK: Yes. Same one.

DIRK: And yeah, he teamed up with Rose from the same era.

DIRK: They supposedly put up a good fight, but both died.

DAVE: so...

DAVE: does john know that he is literally about to go fight betty crocker yet or what

DIRK: I have no idea.

DIRK: I really don't know John at all, or any of your friends.

DIRK: I know Jane was the heiress to the Crocker brand. Uh, obviously? It is her name after all.

DIRK: Was John the heir to that empire in his universe?

DAVE: nah

DAVE: i mean not to my or his knowledge

DAVE: he just fuckin hated that company for some reason

DAVE: i think his reason was literally as mundane as just being slightly overexposed to cake

DAVE: thats classic john though he doesnt get pissed about anything except for the absolute dumbest shit

DAVE: but i guess his instincts were right in this case

DAVE: maybe we should just

DAVE: not tell him

DAVE: that hes fightin crocker i think the poor dude has probably had enough mental breakdowns for one adventure

DAVE: we all have

DIRK: I'd like to get to know him.

DIRK: Not to mention Rose and Jade. Would have been nice to hang out and chat, in a circumstance where we weren't supposed to prepare for an imminent deadly struggle.

DAVE: yeah

DAVE: well i guess we could have hung out there a few minutes longer

DAVE: i mean you wouldnt have got much outta jade who is stuck in perma-nap mode

DAVE: just like old times i guess

DIRK: Huh?

DAVE: she used to sleep a lot

DIRK: Ah.

DAVE: but yeah there wasnt much time except for like a bunch of heys and oh nice to meet yous

DAVE: and also i think i would have still been a shitty train wreck socially if we all just hunkered down right then and there for another extensive round of freestyle paltalk

DIRK: Right, I was kind of nervous about lingering there for more than a minute too.

DIRK: Mainly because of Jake.

DIRK: I didn't want to make him uncomfortable.

DIRK: I think I have done enough of that.

DAVE: i guess jake was kinda like your john of the group huh

DAVE: wait that was a pretty dumb observation never mind

DIRK: Nah, sounds about right.

DIRK: Seems like John was your close buddy growing up, and Jake was mine.

DAVE: john and i never really had anything like a falling out

DAVE: except for not talkin to each other for a few years on account of being on a meteor and boat respectively

DAVE: but i guess you two had some buddy troubles or somethin?

DIRK: Yes. A lot of buddy troubles.

DIRK: I vaguely touched on it earlier. I was a really bad influence in his life.

DAVE: what happened

DIRK: A lot of things, that were mostly my fault.

DIRK: Basically, I think I bullied him into dating me.

DIRK: Although I had plenty of "help" from my Auto-Responder.

DIRK: There were a lot of insane plans that he hatched on my behalf.

DIRK: But in fairness, I went along with them.

DIRK: To this day, I can't really tell how much of that bullshit was his doing, and how much was mine, which I've just covered up through denial or selective memory.

DAVE: wait

DAVE: you

DAVE: you dated jake?

DIRK: Yeah.

DIRK: That didn't last long though.

DIRK: It was really lopsided and kind of forced.

DAVE: ...

DAVE: so

DAVE: you

DAVE: ...

DAVE: hmm

DIRK: What?

DAVE: nothing

DAVE: i think were breakin one of the rules here

DAVE: this tangent got too personal

DIRK: Oh yeah.

DIRK: I forgot we weren't doing that.

DIRK: Anyway, carry on. You were asking about adult Dave?

DAVE: yeah

DAVE: so that covers how he died

DAVE: taking a futile stand against some unbeatable foe

DAVE: cant say im too surprised about that cause what else is even new

DAVE: what about his early life though

DAVE: guess i arrived around the same year my bro did in my universe?

DAVE: just came down on the same dead horse i rode in on

DAVE: into a world full of opportunities

DAVE: how did i get started

DIRK: His early life isn't well documented.

DIRK: There's hardly anything to read about him until he broke into show business with a few obscure projects at the turn of the century.

DIRK: It all snowballed from there.

DAVE: i guess the one thing we know for sure is i didnt find a kid in a crater and take him under my wing

DAVE: that was probably for the best

DIRK: Heh.

DAVE: actually maybe its better that most of his story is left to my imagination

DAVE: kinda like how you said you spent a lot of time thinkin about him

DAVE: filling in the gaps of his ridiculous exploits

DIRK: Right.

DIRK: There's certainly a lot of lore to work with.

DIRK: Urban legends and stuff.

DAVE: like what

DAVE: actually wait

DAVE: dont tell me

DAVE: at least not now maybe down the road it would be cool to hear some

DAVE: i think id prefer to fill in the blanks myself for a while

DAVE: really it sounds dope as hell to imagine that sort of blank canvas life

DAVE: dropped on earth as a kid in the 70s or 80s or whatever with no bossy adult to reel me in

DAVE: and just having to figure stuff out

DAVE: especially knowing that many years later it all worked out ok

DAVE: really wonder what i did

DAVE: was i like some homeless eighties ragamuffin???

DAVE: jesus christ that sounds fairly adorable if so

DAVE: maybe i slept in an alley on a bed of rubix cubes and alf merchandise

DAVE: or maybe i offered my old school rap services for food

DIRK: Like, through a shitty cardboard booth?

DIRK: You know, like the one from the fuckin' Charlie Brown comics.

DIRK: "This is what the refrance," FYI.

DAVE: yes exactly

DAVE: this sounds like exactly the life for me

DAVE: what if without a penny to my name and the wind at my back i hopped a boxcar to the big apple

DAVE: because as a dumb child i naively believed thats where they made all the apple juice

DAVE: id be sorely disappointed when i got there but it wouldnt matter because id probably scrape together a living on off off off broadway like...

DAVE: making shitty cartoons

DAVE: on stage

DAVE: and saying

DAVE: you guys

DAVE: this will be SO much funnier once the internet happens TRUST ME

DAVE: then the aristocratic patrons of fine theater just shrug and dump their shillings into my orphan hat

DIRK: It sounds to me like you've been reading up on the urban legends already.

DAVE: hahaha

DAVE: i wonder if he had like

DAVE: friends

DIRK: It sounds like he knew a lot of people, at least later in life.

DAVE: sure

DAVE: i mean im sure he knew rose at some point because obviously they teamed up

DAVE: but as fairly old people?

DAVE: it sounds as though they only knew each other as a result of their notability

DIRK: This seems likely.

DAVE: i mean more like the friends i grew up with

DAVE: he couldnt have grown up with john or jade as friends because they were already old by the time he got there

DAVE: this cool 80s kid fantasy was probably just a lot lonelier than ive been picturing in my sweet daydreams

DAVE: i didnt even have the MAYOR god what a nightmare now that i think about it

DAVE: i wonder if all he cared about was making ludicrous shit and fighting evil pastry moguls

DAVE: do you know if he had any other interests

DIRK: Like what?

DAVE: i dont know

DAVE: did you ever read any urban legends about.....

DAVE: paleontology

DIRK: Paleontology?

DAVE: yes the scientific study of dead shit

DIRK: Not that I recall.

DAVE: hmm

DAVE: i guess he probably didnt do anything with that

DAVE: what a shame

DAVE: maybe he never even got the idea since he had completely different experiences

DAVE: but if i were suddenly dropped back in the 20th century id probably look into it at some point

DAVE: i dunno how though

DAVE: i think it would be mainly like

DAVE: some sort of theraputic interest

DAVE: something relaxing to think about instead of a bunch of ironic and stupidly ambitious objectives

DIRK: Yeah, like the porn bots.

DAVE: yeah exactly

DIRK: Maybe some day, when we're both old men, you can live a quiet life tending to your fossils, and I will do the same with my dear collection of simple-minded chat robots fixated on puppet ass.

DAVE: sounds like the fucking life to me

DIRK: What was the lightning round question this stemmed from again?

DIRK: I forget.

DAVE: dunno

DAVE: maybe were tapering off with the lightning round stuff anyway and its just naturally deteriorating into regular dudechat

DIRK: Maybe.

DIRK: You sure you don't have anything else before we say it's officially deteriorated?

DAVE: k heres a curveball

DAVE: what the fuck are you wearing

DIRK: My prince gear.

DIRK: You know. Leggings, slippers, the poofy asshole pants, a hood with some sort of cloth tiara deal embedded in it.

DIRK: Basic stuff for princes, apparently.

DAVE: huh

DAVE: gotta say

DAVE: some of these god tier ensembles really are...

DAVE: something

DIRK: I thought I hated it at first.

DIRK: But over the couple hours I spent flying back, with time to think about all sorts of stuff...

DIRK: It kinda grew on me.

DIRK: The asshole pants are pretty damn comfortable, so I dunno if I even care how stupid they look.

DIRK: And I *am* kind of an asshole, after all. So who am I to complain.

DAVE: i thought the same thing about my cape outfit at first

DAVE: felt like some bozo from the renaissance festival

DAVE: like maybe i should get on a horse and sing a shitty ballad

DAVE: but then it grew on me pretty quickly

DAVE: hardly ever took it off in three years

DAVE: youre right its comfortable and theyre fuckin magic pajamas or whatever and they start to feel like part of who you are after long enough

DAVE: i mean they are supposed to last you forever right

DAVE: kinda by definition since they come along with immortality

DAVE: maybe part of their magical nature includes this insidious quality where they grow on you

DAVE: or not i dunno maybe this is bullshit and ill just wear some normal person clothes when this is all over

DAVE: what about you are you gonna wear god duds forever

DIRK: Nah. I'm sure I'll wear regular stuff again at some point.

DIRK: If a shirt with a hat on it can be deemed regular.

DAVE: im cool with deeming it as such

DAVE: yeah maybe youre right and we should all stop dressing like tools from an infinite magic slumber party for floundering teens

DAVE: and just look like standard floundering teens

DAVE: some of the getups are pretty out there

DAVE: jakes tho...

DAVE: uh

DAVE: damn??

DIRK: I...

DIRK: Yeah.

DIRK: That page costume.

DIRK: I'd have commented on it, except that would've been casting a stone through a particularly fragile glass wardrobe.

DIRK: So... I just flew away.

DAVE: yeah there was uh

DAVE: some palpable awkwardness there

DIRK: Hm.

DAVE: sorry im still

DAVE: tryin to

DAVE: like

DAVE: wrap my head around

DAVE: ...

DIRK: What?

DAVE: uh

DAVE: dammit

DAVE: ok i guess i might have to break one of our lightning round rules

DAVE: only a little tho

DAVE: i hope

DIRK: About what?

DIRK: The personal stuff?

DAVE: yeah

DIRK: That's fine.

DAVE: ok maybe im not even asking you anything

DAVE: maybe this is just a starting point to ramble to myself

DAVE: on a certain topic

DAVE: i think...

DAVE: there is a SLIGHT chance...

DAVE: i may be the biggest idiot in the world

DIRK: ?

DAVE: when it comes to understanding some things about my bro

DAVE: some pieces i never really put together

DAVE: about him

DAVE: until maybe literally right now

DAVE: which i think makes me an objective dumbass

DIRK: What does this have to do with me and Jake?

DAVE: idk

DAVE: nothin

DAVE: maybe i dont wanna ask you anything about jake

DAVE: maybe ill just keep abiding by the code of basic dude manners on that

DAVE: if i bother skirtin the line of this rule maybe id rather ask you other stuff instead

DIRK: Like what?

DAVE: like

DAVE: um

DAVE: say one of your best friends is a knucklehead you havent seen in three years

DAVE: and unless you use ultra direct and explicit language he just wont put two and two together himself

DAVE: and also say ANOTHER best friend is a girl you feel like you had kind of a special relationship with but you ALSO hadnt seen in three years

DAVE: and shes asleep

DAVE: but at some point shell wake up and youll have to talk to her

DIRK: ...

DAVE: this is dumb im not making any sense

DAVE: lemme start over

DAVE: ok lets say

DAVE: way back whenever

DAVE: howww

DAVE: ...

DAVE: how did you tell your friends

#homestuck #dave strider #dirk strider #homestuck act 6 #page 7917 #page 7918 #page 7919 #page 7920 #page 7921 #page 7922 #homestuck act 6 act 6 #homestuck act 6 act 6 intermission 5

[queenofbaws]

Hey! May I request number 41 for Chris x Ash x Josh, please?

six(ish) sentence weekend ;P

“Know what I like most about s’mores? There’s no fuckin’ them up. It’s impossible. Literally impossible.” In the same way a judge might bang a gavel to signify the end of an especially intense court hearing, Josh slapped the top graham cracker onto his s’more, effectively cracking it clean down the middle. “Literally. Impossible,” he repeated, very nearly eating the whole thing in one bite.

Between them, the fire pit crackled and marshmallows toasted (a significantly quieter affair). Other than that, there was silence.

And then, when he simply couldn’t take it any longer, Chris spoke up. “The hell are you talking about, man?”

Oh, this had the makings of a debate - a stupid, pointless, shouty debate - so Ashley kept her lips zipped. For the time being, at least. She had to see who was drawing what lines in the sand before she threw her hat into the ring, after all. She was nothing if not diplomatic.

“The hell you mean, the hell I mean?” Josh asked through a mouthful of melted chocolate, his voice thick and goopy until he swallowed. “They’re nature’s perfect food.”

...okay, maybe she couldn’t stay out of it. “Nature,” Ashley repeated quietly. “Nature.”

“They are,” he continued, holding up the itty-bitty remaining sliver of his own, “Perfect. Un-fuck-up-able. Graham crackers? Boring but okay. Chocolate? Also boring on its own, most of the time, but preferable to veggies, right? Marshmallows? Delicious. Joyously so. Put all three of ‘em together?” He popped it into his mouth and made a point of crunching it between his molars as loudly as possible. “Perfect.”

“I-I-I’m not gonna sit here and argue with you on the deliciousness of the s’more. I’m simply not going to do that. My problem is how you keep saying you can’t fuck them up, when clearly - ”

“You can’t.”

“They are so easy to fuck up!”

“You’re a fool.”

“They’re the easiest thing to fuck up!”

“A damned fool.” Without moving any other part of his body, Josh swiveled his head towards Ashley, blinking once with slow derision. “You hearing this bullshit? You’re just gonna sit there and let your dumbass boyfriend shout at me like this? Me? Your better boyfriend?”

Her eyebrows crept upwards, as did the corners of her lips. “Oooh no. I’m not saying a word,” Ashley laughed, stabbing a couple of fat marshmallows onto her stick, holding it out over the fire. “Not. A. Word.”

“Traitor.”

Chris was undeterred. He just kept going, muttering some iteration of “Impossible to get right” as he struggled with his own marshmallows, trying to assemble a s’more with his roasting stick squeezed between his knees as he unwrapped more chocolate. It was a close call for a second there, him almost dropping the whole mess onto the porch, but if there was one time or place where Christopher Hartley managed to get his shit right, it was where snacks were involved. When finally he held his own s’more in his (very sticky) hand, he brandished it in Josh’s direction. “Have you ever eaten anything - anything! - that claims to be s’mores flavored?”

He sniffed once. “S’mores. Yeah. Next question.”

“No. No, don’t you start that shit. I mean...granola bars. I mean candy bars. I mean Pop Tarts. I mean...”

“Didn’t Starbucks have a - ”

“Yes! I’m talking frapps - thank you Ash.”

“You’re welcome.”

“I’m talking milkshakes. I’m - ”

Though it was a party foul of the highest order, Josh shoved his hand into the bag of marshmallows, grabbed a handful, and launched them halfheartedly at Chris’s face. “We get it. Jesus Christ, Cochise, I’m growing a beard over here! If you’re trying to make a point, God help me, I’m not seeing it. Now, if you’re just wanting to list all the foods you’ve eaten in your life, that’s another story, I’ll listen to that all day long. I’ll ask you use a sexier voice, maybe let me get a little more comfortable, but...”

To be fair, not a single one of the marshmallows would’ve hit Chris. Not a single one. He ducked all the same, though, leaning hard to one side like what he was dodging was knives and not puffed sugar particles. “What I’m saying...is that other than literal s’mores, s’mores like this precious gift I am currently holding in my ha - hey!”

Ashley shrugged as she yoinked said s’more from him, taking a bite of it as her other hand continued to turn her roasting stick. “You weren’t eating it, sooo...”

“You guys really suck at making me feel welcome, safe, and valid, you know that? You really, really do.”

“Should I ring up HR maybe? Lodge a complaint?” Josh had just enough time to pop his thumb and pinky finger out and bring them to his ear before Chris regained his train of thought.

“Anything other than a real s’more that claims to taste like a s’more does not, in fact, taste like a s’more. It is absolutely impossible. It has not happened once in the history of the world. Therefore, s’mores are fuck-up-able, and I’ll raise you this, sir - they are fuck-up-able to the highest degree!”

That time, there was no waiting before Josh turned Ashley’s way, leaning his elbow on the armrest of his fold-out lawn chair. “Maybe I should ring up HR and lodge a complaint, whaddya think?”

“I think your marshmallow’s on fire, dork.” When he frowned, she simply flicked her eyes towards the fire and he swore, all but flinging his burning marshmallow out of the fire. “I also think,” she added, still contently nibbling Chris’s s’more as she turned her own marshmallows in the fire, “I’m never making s’mores with you weirdos again.”

#xxjulialillyxx #six sentence weekend #queenie writes supermassive #climbing chrash #well hey howdy hey!!! ;D #hope you enjoy this one - when it comes to comfort food smores are v near and dear to mine and my friends' hearts hehehehe

[adamwatchesmovies]

Judge Dredd (1995)

With a much better adaptation of the Judge Dredd comics released in 2012, the 1995 film has been condemned to limbo. At best, the performances are at maximum cheese and offer a couple of unintentional laughs. It’s not funny, bold, interesting, or memorable. The special effects are good, but it doesn’t matter. Nothing about this movie matters.

In the future, most of Earth has become an uninhabitable wasteland. Human live in a few Megacities, where crime is rampant. Fighting an ever-lasting war against the criminal scum are the Judges – an elite force who are the police, the judicial system and the executioners in one. When Judge Dredd (Sylvester Stallone) is framed for murder, he teams up with hacker Fergee (Rob Schneider) to clear his name, uncovering a sinister plot to reshape the world in the process.

The premise makes me feel like I’m sucking on a rusty nail. Another dystopian '90s film where the totalitarian government turns out to be corrupt, where a police officer discovers a power-hungry puppet master pulling all of these strings? It was cool when Robocop did it – and believe me, this film borrows A LOT from Robocop. Here? it’s dull, dull, dull. The characters don't help. Dredd can’t even commit to his “I am the law” attitude and is quite stupid by action hero standards – frequently getting rid of his weapons and forgetting to pick them up again when a new threat emerges. Rob Schneider is once again intolerable, though to be fair, he's only 4th on the “Worst things about this movie” list. Diane Lane plays a fellow Judge who will - of course - wind up going toe-to-toe with the evil scientist lady (played by Joan Chen) because obviously, run-of-the-mill biologists are trained martial artists. Max Von Sydow plays the largely pointless fatherly Judge on the Council of Judges. When he shows up, you think “Wow, why are you wasting your time with Judge Dredd? Wait. Why am I?!”

The plot is predictable, the action scenes ridiculous, the performances from Armand Assante (as Rico) and Stallone are so hammy they’re meme-worthy. The story is full of questionable developments, and it misses every attempt to be anything but the cinematic equivalent of gruel. On the positive side, the special effects are cool. There’s a cyborg and a big combat robot that look awesome. Unfortunately, they’re servicing a worthless story. Even the setting isn’t well fleshed out. You sit back thinking “Ok… if you say so!” over and over.

On paper, Judge Dredd should be “so bad it’s good” but it isn't. The picture looks and feels even worse now that we’ve gotten a legitimately faithful, exciting and well-made adaptation of the comics by John Wagner and Carlos Ezquerra. Even if we hadn’t, this movie sucks. It’s the very worst of that period of action films where there was a lot of violence, but to make it more digestible the hero is given a (larlgely useless) comedic sidekick and at the end of the day, it had nothing to say about anything. Judge Dredd wastes the talent of its special effects people and the audience’s time. (On DVD, July 14, 2017)

#Judge Dredd #Movies #films #Movie Reviews #Film Reviews #Comic Book Movies #Comic Book Films #Danny Cannon #William Wisher Jr. #Steven E. de Souza #Michael De Luca #Sylvester Stallone #Armand Assante #Diane Lane #Rob Schneider #joan chen #Jurgen Prochnow #Max Von Sydow #1995 movies #1995 films

[burnerblog333332]

twistedEcclesiastic [TE] began trolling tawdryCaricaturist [TC]

TE: I aM herE ouT oF purE fuckinG desperatioN. I aM minD-fuckinG fuckinglY fuckinG BOREd TE: mY matespriT iS DEAd oR likE probablY sleepinG anD I donT reallY talK tO anythinG elsE?? TE: anD yourE A faT stupiD fuckinG punchinG baG anD thatS FUn. NYEHEHEHEH TC: aww im really that entertaining to you? : P TC: i thought you had lots of other troll friends karmis! what happened?? TE: dO yoU havE dementiA?? wheN diD I eveR saY I havE trolL friendS I fuckinG HATe EVERYONe TC: well they all seem to know about you! i just figured you were all friends : ) TC: so if your lying your not really doing a good job of it right now : P TE: thatS jusT becausE I makE enemieS whereveR I gO NYEHEHEHEH TE: fucK thA haterS TC: haha true : ) TC: arent you a hater though? TC: just like in general TE: yeaH duH. fucK mE fucK yoU I donT givE A shiT! NYEH TE: whateveR. I donT carE foR labelS TC: thats cool me neither : ) TC: your friends are cool though i think you should hate on them a little less TE: ugH fucK WHo arE yoU EVEn TALKINg ABOUt???!!!! TC: ummm TC: well i met rozzie the robot and the guy that built him TC: he made it sound like your friends with him : ) TC: unless he was lying? TC: i dunno he sounded kind of tricky TE: STOp TYPINg!!! TE: STOp TC: WHAT? TE: rozziE iS NOt mY "frienD". fuckinG perioD! enD oF storY!! TE: itS A triggeR happY psychopathiC littlE freaK anD thaT nerD lukE needS tO keeP iT oN A leasH TC: his name is luke? TC: you guys are aliens and one of you is named luke? TE: welL youR namE iS ryaN. NYEHEHEH TE: hiS namE iS lukeiS anywayS TC: luke is what? TE: lukeiS TC: oh thats his name? TC: how do you even pronouns that TE: whaT iS fuckinG wronG witH yoU arE yoU actuallY braiN damageD? TC: no im actually normal!! sheesh TC: anyways LUKEIS (still weird) says that hes your best friend : ) TC: trust me! TE: whaT fuckinG eveR? I donT reallY carE TC: are you sure? TE: arE yoU stupid? TC: i dunno! TC: you came to me for entertainment so you dont get to complain TC: dummy TC: hey so whats a matesprit? is that another weird word your going to make fun of me for not knowing about TE: yeS iT iS! NYEH. lonelY loseR dickwaD TE: alsO I donT knoW whaT itS likE oN youR stupiD planeT buT oN ourS wE havE A littlE thinG calleD freedoM oF insultS sO I caN complaiN alL I wanT TC: yeah i guess we have something like that! its called bullying

TE: "meeeH meeH meeH mY namE iS wayaN yourE bullyinG mE becausE iM sO stupiD anD I donT eveN knoW whaT A matespriT iS oR probablY eveN hoW tO spelL halF thE alphabeT meeH meeH" TC: i didnt say that! TE: yeS yoU diD looK yoU jusT diD, weirdO TC: how come your allowed to complain but im not? thats kind of stupid TC: if your going to try to be mean you might as well be fair about it! >: P TE: therE yoU fuckinG gO agaiN beinG thE mosT stupiD persoN iN thE fuckinG universE. itS likE yourE ADDICTED TE: I neveR eveR saiD yoU couldnT complaiN itS jusT youR complaintS arE 1.stupiD 2.dumB 3.bullshiT 4.pathetiC(verY) 5.donT matteR. NYEH TE: NYEHEHEH TC: i guess but you complain about EVERYTHING TC: literally every single little thing TC: i think that makes your complaints even more pointless TC: i dont really take you seriously anymore : P TE: diD I asK yoU thougH? TE: XP TC: hehehe TE: yoU caN takE mE seriouslY oR noT, aS lonG aS yourE stilL A stupiD nobodY I wiN X) TE: yoU arE fuckinG dirT undeR mY cooL shoeS, PATHETIc TE: NYEHEHEHEH TC: suuuuure karmis : P TE: lalalalalalalA I canT heaR yoU TC: yeah you can : ) TE: whaT? TC: okay if you cant here me then i guess you wont react to me calling you a STUPID JERK TC: karmis smells like AAAAAAAAAAASS!!! >: D TE: nyeH TE: NYEHEHEHEHEHEH TE: NYEHEHEHEHEHEHEHEHEHEHEH X) TC: nyehehe! >: P TE: heY thatS My THINg TWERp TC: SEE you heard me : D

twistedEcclesiastic [TE] ceased trolling tawdryCaricaturist [TC]

[angelholme]

M4M&I — Day 18 : Dolls

There are very few characters in shows, films, books, plays and all the like that I think are appallingly stupid and a complete waste of time.

I mean — there are characters that are ridiculous (the Willy Wonka character from the version with Johnny Depp) and there are characters that are bad (Sheldon Cooper from The Big Bang Theory) and there are characters that are kind of disappointing (Bill from Doctor Who) but it is very, very rare I come across characters that I think were just a huge mistake and the writers should be completely ashamed of themselves.

However the “second half” of a series called “Pretty Little Liars” featured just such a character.

Alexandra Drake — Alex, also known as A.D. — was a totally, utterly and completely pointless character. But, to be fair, the entire second half of “Pretty Little Liars” was totally, utterly and completely pointless.

The first half — which, okay, was five and a half years, was well written, well crafted and incredibly well produced. The five lead characters (Aria, Hanna, Emily, Alison and Spencer) were all outstanding and the script was — for the most part — a work of genius. There were some parts that were a bit iffy but generally speaking it is one of the best series of its kind in recent history.

But the second half? I have no clue  what the buggering hell they were thinking. They had so many plots that would have made a better arc for the series, and instead they just throw a TWIN SISTER in? They literally go in for the most obvious, most ridiculous idea?

Why not bring Alison back in the shower? Why not bring CeeCee back in the shower? Why not bring them both back in the shower? (Okay — that sounded slightly more perverted than I intended, especially given that they’re sisters. Sorry. I will reign in my “better ideas” for now)

The entire “five years later” arc was — well I am not sure what it was. It was sort of adapted from the books, but apparently not very well.

But to return to the idea of bringing Alison back in the shower for a second, when I was growing up it was almost a universal joke about “brining someone back in the shower” because on Dallas, in 1985, they killed off Bobby Ewing. Katherine Wentworth was trying to run Pam over with a car, and Bobby pushed her out of the way. It was a pretty dramatic, and somewhat emotional episode.

For the whole of the next year, Bobby was dead, and gone, and Pam struggled on on her own. Like you do when your husband has been run over by a psychotic bitch in a car.

Then came…….. well then came the moment that TV writers, and film writers, have been parodying ever since.

Pam got married to someone new, and then she woke up after her wedding night to find Bobby in her shower.

It was — quite literally — the most ridiculous thing ever on TV up to that moment. Which is saying something, given it was the eighties.

If you compare and contrast this to — say — the Christmas episode of Eastenders just two months later. When Den — after learning that Angie’s story of having cancer was a lie — waited until Christmas afternoon to serve her with divorce papers.

It was the start of the “diabolical Christmas episodes” that have plagued the nation ever since and it was the most dramatic and shocking Christmas show in recent TV history.

It has been copied, and various shows — mostly soaps — have endeavoured to emulate it year after year (with more and more outrageous disasters every Christmas, usually with more and more casualties and more and more dead people) but no one — not single show — has ever succeeded in producing the shock and surprise of that first episode.

However a lot of people have produced something as ridiculous as bringing Bobby back in the shower. Mostly by bringing other people back in the shower (even it isn’t a sister and a sister who was her brother. Because that would be a little weird. Especially for a primetime show that doesn’t even use the word s**t)

If you look at the rest of pop culture, you can see the influence of both of these moments (the Den & Angie moment, and the Shower Scene moment) as well as hundreds of other tiny iconic moments and incidents that have become embedded into the collective consciousness of the world.

the four Hogwarts’ Houses — listening to people say “You’re a Gryffindor” or “She’s a Hufflepuff” is fairly common place now.

the coffee vibrating in the cup from Jurassic Park

the shower scene from Psycho

the Stay-Puft Marshmallow man from Ghostbusters

the One Ring and my precious from The Lord of The Rings

the force

toto

the psychotic Good Guy Doll from Child’s Play [1]

There are any number of tiny little things in random films that are used throughout pop culture — some you will know where they come from, some you will know but don’t recognise, some you won’t recognise but will have heard…….. but they will turn up time and time again, and the moment someone points one out you will hear them over and over again.

It is odd how often it happens.

[1] — Would you believe that Chucky was once the subject of an Amber Alert in Texas? The Texas state police issued an Amber Alert and said he was a suspect in a kidnapping. And they did it three times in quick succession.

So — you know — it’s good to know the Texas police are looking out the well being of their citizens.

#may myself and i #m4m&I #day 18 #dolls

[clairecrive]

Hi could we please get a really angsty fic with nikolai (with a happy ending pls) where reader and he has had a fight so they maintain the facade on the outside bc they're royals but in private it's just ignoring each other/angst?

Young Royals

A/N: ahh, this is angsty alright but it seems I'm only capable of writing hurt/comfort lately. This took a life of its own and it's long af but I hope you like it anyway x

Warnings: miscommunication, angst, fighting, hurt/comfort, Nikolai is a bit absent, you're a bit jealous of his relationship with Zoya

Tags: @jupiterandbutterflies, @agentsofsheilds , @for-bebbanburg , @randomoutsiders , @pansysgirlfriend , @hannaxmaria , @vintagebitc , @story-scribbler , @crowssixof , @odetostep,@lizzie-he4rts, @korol-lantsov, @subjecta13-thefangirl, @gallysonegoodlung, @a-c-lee, @mriddlemethis, @carnationworld,@thanossexual, @luvxginger, @sanna2020,@partiesandblurrypolaroids, @edithsvoice, @wafflesandschemingfaces (tag list form)

SHADOW AND BONE MASTERLIST

"Do not put words into my mouth, Nikolai."

"Please, you already have so many, my love," he scoffed and the use of the term of endearment hurt the most.

"You're making me sound like a brat while I'm providing you with a viable solution," you insisted with a flare of your hands, frustrated by his unwillingness to listen to you.

"No, you're not. What you're doing is being childish."

"I'm your queen, Nikolai. I'm only asking to be more involved."

"You're my wife, y/n, and you know nothing about politics or running a country." He retired, putting emphasis on wife. This felt a lot like being put into place. And the fact that it was your husband doing so, hurt. It was also the most you had seen him this week.

"Neither did Zoya, nor Genya or anyone who's currently running the country."

"That's different and you know it."

"Only because you're making it so," you exclaimed finally exploding. His despondency got on your nerves and this conversation was going nowhere anyway.

Surprised by your raise of voice, Nikolai stood before you just blinking at you.

Sighing, you took a step toward him, holding your hands up, "look, you're right, I don't know about running a country but teach me. I'm not stupid, I'll pick it up."

"Why are you insisting so much? You've never shown any interest in politics before." He gave you a puzzled look like he didn't really believe your intentions.

"I've never wanted to be queen before." before meeting you.

"Ah, I see," he chuckled mirthlessly, "I put you in this situation and now you're taking your revenge."

To insinuate that your marriage with him was you "being put into a situation" rather than a consensual decision you had made out of love was absurd.

Nikolai was right. You had never cared about politics or diplomacy before meeting him. You were a soldier. There was no reason for you to meddle with something that didn't concern you.

But now you were queen and you felt a responsibility towards your people. You wanted to help but so far, Nikolai hadn't allowed you to take part in any meetings. He said that anyone who needed to be there was already involved. What he didn't tell you was that while Grisha made excellent soldiers and even good councillors, one of them being a royal was a very different matter.

He had indulged his love for you by marrying you. You were his vice and he simply couldn't accept the idea of being without you anymore. He had married you, consequently making you queen, going against what his advisors told him.

While he ignored his warnings he was painfully aware, however, how difficult it was going to be for a Grisha on the throne. It was the first time something liked this had ever happened and unfortunately, the country was filled with people who resented Grisha for their powers.

Nikolai feared that the people were never going to accept you. Hence why he'd been keeping you secluded in the palace.

To be fair, you were doing a wonderful job. Like he had pointed out, you were not accustomed to politics but you made up for that with empathy and kindness. You started to interest yourself with the problem of poverty and lack of provisions for some parts of the country.

And while no one was aware of it, Nikolai often turned to you for military strategy. You were an apt soldier and had fought bravely alongside him and everyone else in the battle of the Fold. You were the very reason why he was still alive, to be honest.

While this arrangement worked for the first months of your reign, it was starting to feel an inadequate effort. You needed to do more, you wanted to do more. You didn't expect Nikolai to oppose it so vehemently.

"If I didn't want to be here I wouldn't be, Nikolai, you'd do well to remember it," you pointed out coldly, straightening your spine.

"Since you seem so adverse at spending time with me or including me in important matters, I'll find someone else who will." And with that, chin held high, you walked out of the room.

You missed him. It felt absurd to say this but you missed your husband. He was always busy with meetings or official visits to some noble across the country. For most of them, he went alone or with Zoya.

You knew that she was his first in command but you couldn't help but be bothered by it. It was one thing to accept the fact that he hadn't given the role to you "because the queen cannot have that role as well", it was a whole other thing to accept the fact that another woman spent more time with your husband than you did.

Countless were the fights you had with him in this regard. But they were pointless. Nikolai was still set on not bringing you and he and Zoya were always found together.

You didn't know what hurt more. The blow at your pride for being denied a position you deserved because of who you loved, the jealousy or being punished for your identity.

One thing was sure though, it was getting too much. At first, you pulled thought for Nikolai but now that you didn't have him anymore, your efforts seemed to be in vain.

So, like you had told Nikolai, you looked for someone who was willing to teach you. You wanted to help and if Nikolai wasn't going to let you here at the palace, then you'd find somewhere else.

Count Kirigin had always been nice to you and he was a very generous host. You knew that he played a central role in Nikolai's plan so you thought that there was no one better than him.

You reached out to him, wrote him a letter in which you showed interest in his activity and asked him if he was willing to show you. Of course, anything that came from the queen or the king couldn't be denied but you knew that the Count truly enjoyed your company. If your position didn't put so much higher than everybody else, you'd even consider him a friend.

You waited for his reply before putting in motion the preparations for your departure.

In the meantime, you and Nikolai kept conducting your separate lives. Usually, you'd only see him at night when he returned to your chambers if you were still up. Now, you had decided to sleep in separate rooms too.

If he wanted a wife, then a wife he'd get. But kings and queens do not sleep together.

If the new arrangement was bothering him, you didn't know. He hadn't reached out to you nor made any move to rectify your decision.

Turns out that he wasn't even at the Palace. He had left for a mission near the border with Shu Han and wouldn't be back for at least a week. Well, then. Of course, he didn't even bother with telling you. Not even a small note.

Jokes on him though, you thought, since when he was going to come back, he'd finally get what he wanted. You weren't going to be there to bother him anymore.

Differently from him though, you did indeed left him a note. Nikolai found it a week after you had set it on his pillow. Its presence made him furrow his eyebrows since he had already been wondering where you were. You usually came out to meet him at the gates whenever he'd come back from a mission and even though you had fought before he went away, you weren't one for holding grudges. So e guessed there was something holding you.

Unfolding the paper he was met with your familiar chaotic writing.

"I don't know when you're going to find this letter but if I'm not there yet it means that I'm still at Count Kirigin's. Do not bother with writing or visiting, I'll come back when my business with him is done.

Y/n"

What in the name of every sweet loving saint???

The letter wasn't dated, no dear, no yours no nothing. Fuck. You were still mad or worse, hurt.

Asking one of the servants, he learned that you had been away for a week already. But what business could you possibly have with the Count??

Nikolai had nothing against him. Seeing Kirigin get all flustered as he tried to flirt with Zoya amused him to no end but the idea of him and you in the same house? Alone?? Unacceptable.

Not even bothering to change clothes after his long journey, Nikolai headed to the stables to ask for a well-rested horse. Luckily, Count Kirigin's estate was not too far away. A couple of hours ride.

Turns out that the Count had a lot to teach. Despite his aloof reputation and extravagant clothes, he was very observant. He lacked ambition, which was why Nikolai trusted him and had a curious way of behaving in social situations.

But Emil had been born and raised in high society. He knew how things were run even if he had no desire to be in charge of them.

So far, you'd be having a wonderful time. Emil was a wonderful host, as you remembered, but without Nikolai's presence, he was even more extravagant. He had an unexpectedly dry sense of humour and a never-ending list of jokes.

Being in the open and in the company of someone who saw y/n instead of the Queen of Ravka proved to be even more needed than you thought. You felt reinvigorated and much lighter than you'd ever been.

You had also been learning a lot. Emil had been teaching you about diplomacy. About the best ways of formulating a sentence so that you wouldn't offend anyone but still get what you wanted. He had also been talking to you about your husband's ministers. About their weaknesses and vices and what was the best way to approach them to get what you wanted.

So far, it was proving to be a wonderful decision to come here.

Whenever your mind strayed on Nikolai, you willed it to focus on something else. You didn't know if he had already come home or seen the letter. A part of you thought that if he had, he would at least write one back. But the thought felt a lot like hope and seeing as how little he saw you even before you left, you didn't think it safe to harbour it.

When Nikolai reached the estate, he was met with Kirigin's servants. They welcomed him inside and profusely apologised for the Count's absence. They told him that at this time of the day, Kirigin and his guest would usually go out on a ride but that they were also about to return.

So Nikolai waited, sitting in the most comfortable chair the Count owned, fuming at the thought that his wife had felt the need to go away and be in the company of another man.

"If I didn't want to be here, I wouldn't be Nikolai. You'd do well to remember it."

Your words haunted him. They were the last thing that you told him. How stupid had he been to let you walk away. How utterly careless of him to disregard you like that.

He had promised himself to truly talk to you about it once this pressing matter of state was taken care of. Apparently, he had waited too long.

But Nikolai knew that the problem was at the source. He noticed how hurt you had been when he made Zoya his first in command. Or how sad you seemed everywhere he went somewhere with her and didn't ask you to join.

He was doing so to protect you from the inevitable slander you'd be met with. He should have known though that putting you aside was going to be even worse. You were a fighter just as much as Zoya was, if not stronger.

She hid behind her veil of indifference and superiority while you had never lost that emphatic verve that made everyone love you so much. In his attempt to make you safe, he had only managed to hurt you.

You were a warrior. You had accepted the role of queen only because it was the only way for you to be with Nikolai. And instead of praising you by making you a warrior queen, he had decided to hide you away.

Well, no more.

If his mistakes had not ruined everything already, he was going to make everything better.

Lost in his musing, he didn't hear the sound of hooves approaching but he did indeed hear your laugh. It immediately brought him back to the present and a wave of ugly jealousy hit him.

He couldn't remember the last time he made you laugh.

"I shouldn't even laugh Emil, the joke was terrible," Nikolai hear you giggling from somewhere in the hall. So now he was Emil, huh.

"You know you can't resist my charm, your highness," Emil replied and Nikolai had to call on every bit of his self-control to not barge out of the room and punch him.

"Stop it, you know you can call me y/n."

Before Emil could reply, they had both made it to the sitting room where Nikolai was waiting for them. It looked like no one had warned them of his presence because Kirigin looked surprised then utterly mortified.

"Your majesty, I wasn't aware you were here. Please forgive me for making you wait."

"Don't fret Kirigin, it was an impromptu visit. I came to see how my lovely wife was doing." No matter how green he was feeling right now, he knew that Kirigin was loyal to him and the crown. Whatever was happening here wasn't one of his schemes.

"Of course! I'm going to send for some tea while you two get reunited." Kirigin quickly bowed before hurrying out of the room.

Nikolai met your eyes for the first time since you had arrived. If at first, you were surprised to see him, now you couldn't help but be a bit sceptical about this visit.

"What are you doing here?" you asked breaking the ice.

"You leave with only a few lines on where you're going and you expect me to just accept it?" He scoffed, his hands curling on the armrests of the chair.

"It's more than what you gave me," you quipped, crossing your arms on your chest.

Nikolai sighed while his gloved hands run through his hair. You were right and he knew it. He had been a horrible husband lately.

"I know you're mad at me, honey, but listen-"

"I'm not mad. You didn't want to give me what I wanted so I went looking for it somewhere else." Scrolling your shoulders, you interrupted him without meeting his eyes. A list of excuses was not what you wanted nor what you needed from him.

Nikolai didn't miss the innuendo. His jaw clenched, his hands closed in fists. But he willed himself to stay calm.

"You think Kirigin can give you something that I can't?" Nikolai was a master in diplomacy. Never did he get frustrated or angry or raised his voice, even with the most aggravating people. Here though, with you, he didn't have to keep a façade. He spoke through his teeth barely containing his anger.

"Well, so far, he's been giving me attention and interesting pointers that no, Nikolai, you refused to give me."

"So this is how you solve your problems? Running away in the countryside with Emil?" Nikolai sneered, his tone souring around Kirigin's name.

"Don't you do the same with your precious first in command?" Tired after your ride with Emil, you plopped down on the chair in front of Nikolai's. Completely ignoring his tone, you pointed out calmly. The perfect image of aloofness even when it was the last thing you were in this moment.

"That's different," he snapped trying to meet your eyes that were carefully analyzing your hands.

"Yes," you signed, "it seems that when I'm concerned everything is different."

"There's nothing between me and Zoya, y/n and you know it." Nikolai was getting more frustrated by the second. He came here to apologize, to make things right and so far, the conversation was going in the opposite directions.

"Maybe now, but you spend more time with her than you do with me. It's only a matter of time before it happens and you're sorely mistaken if you think I'll just stand by and watch."

"This is not about Zoya," he insisted but so far, he wasn't getting the reaction out of you he wanted. You seemed... resigned at the situation. And that worried Nikolai to no end.

"It never is."

"Why did you run away?" Opting for a more direct approach, he bit the bullet and went straight to the point.

"I did not run away," you scoffed in contempt at his choice of words, "I told you I wanted to do more and Emil is teaching me. Not everyone is so against spending time with me, you know." You shot him a glance.

It was the first time that you had looked at him since you had been left alone.

"I married you, y/n. How can you possibly believe I don't want to spend time with you?" As desperation slipped through his words, Nikolai leaned towards you in his seat. As if he couldn't bear the distance between you anymore. But you knew it wasn't that. You and he had been distant for months now.

"Because that's what's happening, Nikolai," you clipped back and Nikolai had to refrain from wincing at your tone.

"It's not intentional, my love, I've just been busy." His tone softened. It was a poor excuse of an apology but it was sadly the truth.

"But when I say that I want to join or help you with it you strongly oppose?" Again, there was that suspicious implication in your words that Nikolai just couldn't stand. To think that you believed he'd ever cheat on you with another woman when he had done so much, taken so many risks, to be with you.

"It's not what you think, y/n." He insisted again but immediately realized he had said the wrong thing when he saw you leaning back into your chair shaking your head.

"I don't think anything, anymore. Do whatever you want. You do your thing and I'll do mine. I won't be a bother to you anymore." Holding up your hands, you gestured as you spoke.

A beat. Nikolai froze in his seat at what you were suggesting.

"You're never a bother to me. Never." He leaned even forwards in his chair, basically only propping on it now. The desperation was now clear in his voice. He reached out to you to try and take hold of your hands but you were too distant.

"I love you more than anything in this world and if you think that I'm going to let you go without a fight, you're sorely mistaken." The steel determination of his words caught you off guard. Nikolai was strong-headed, you knew that better than anyone else, but it had been a long while since that determination had been directed to you.

"You already did." It was barely a whisper. The sad truth about your reality, the downfall of your relationship. The wavering of your voice, the pain in your eyes were enough to tip Nikolai off the edge.

"Milaya, please."He fell onto his knees in front of you. Leaning forward he reached for your hands that he could now hold. "I'm sorry. I put you in a difficult position when I married you and I tried my best to protect you."

"I don't need protecting, Nikolai, especially if it's by pushing me away."

"I was keeping you away from danger and I know that you're strong and capable but I hate to think of you as the object of public slander." His eyes darted between yours, frantic, desperate to make you understand.

"I'm Grisha, Nikolai. It's nothing new to me," you pointed out but then it hit you.

"By difficult position, you meant a Grisha Queen, didn't you?" Your eyes hardened at the implications, your hands going slack in his hold. You would have pulled them away if Nikolai didn't tighten his hold.

"Please, do not think I'm regretting my choice or I think you're not worthy of the title because that's not true." Pulling your hands, he tried to get you closer to him. "I fear that there will be repercussions among the people." And there it was, at last, the truth.

"And among your ministers," you added remembering Emil's lessons on the people at court and their role.

You scoffed when he stayed silent. "Why didn't you tell me?"

"I thought I was doing the right thing, my love."

"So Zoya can handle it and I can't?"

"For the millionth time," he groaned, "I don't care about Zoya."

"I only care about you and I know you can handle it. I just didn't want you to. You deserve happiness and peaceful life and I know it's impossible to have in this saints' forsaken country but I can at least try." His eyes lowered in shame and his confession sent a pang through your heart. You took a moment to take in what he said.

Never had you thought about the possibility of Nikolai's distance was a form of protection. You were a soldier of the Second Army, after all. But being a queen, especially a Grisha one, was a delicate thing.

It was the first time in history that something like this happened. Nikolai's worries were not unfounded since even after the destruction of the Fold, anti-Grisha movements were spreading fast.

It was sad to see the General's attempt of assuring safety for Grisha, provoking exactly the opposite thing.

"Oh, Kolya," returning his grip, you leaned towards him, "I just want a life with you by my side."

"As do I. I want you always and forever but above all, I want you safe. There's nothing I wouldn't do for you, you know it right?"

"I just ask that you tell me the truth and let me play the role I've been given."

"It's not going to be easy. People at court-"

"I know. That's why I'm here. Emil's been teaching."

"Well, no more. I'm going to take care of it from now on."

"Is this a promise or a threat?"

"Rest assured my love, the difference between the two is almost nonexistent." He flashed you a smirk and you couldn't help but smile at him. Here it was, your beloved Nikolai.

"Things are going to change, aren't they?" you murmured softly as he gently rested his forehead against yours.

"We're going to show everyone what a "power couple" is." Here was his promise. Sealed with the gentlest nudging of his nose to yours. The action made you smile and your heart soar. You missed these little moments of intimacy with him.

One of his hands came to cradle your face as the other kept hold of your left hand. Your rings softly clicked as they touched. A form of reassurance.

"I love you, y/n."

"And I you, Kolya."

You were completely lost in your little bubble, even more so when Nikolai's lips finally met yours, that you had forgotten where you were. And that there was an embarrassed Kirigin outside the door waiting for the right moment to come in with tea.

#nikolai lanstov #nikolai lanstov x reader #nikolai lanstov x you #nikolai lanstov angst #nikolai lanstov fic #nikolai lanstov imagine #nikolai lanstov imagines #nikolai lanstov one shot #nikolai lanstov fluff #grishaverse #shadow and bone

[ukeishin]

⊹ skin and bones.

note: ig makki deserves love or whatever 🙄🙄

inspired by this headcanon from @/mintmatcha.

ft. hanamaki takahiro.

wc: 1.1k

warning: gn!reader, insecurities, body image issues, hurt/comfort, timeskip!spoilers

Hanamaki is comfortable with himself. He’s confident for the most part and knows how to play to his strengths. He has a good sense of humor, so he likes to think and so he’s been told. He takes pride in the fact that it’s easy for him to spark laughter from others. He doesn’t let things affect him too much, never one to linger on events that have occurred in the past or fret over all the possibilities that the future holds.

But like every other person, Hanamaki has his weaknesses and insecurities. He’s just better at hiding it than most.

He knows he’s not the most attractive person ever, but that’s not to say Hanamaki necessarily dislikes how he looks. It’s just being friends with Oikawa, Matsukawa, and Iwaizumi in high school took its toll on him.

Objectively, Hanamaki knows his friends are attractive. He’s not blind. Oikawa had a whole fan club for fuck’s sake, but Matsukawa and Iwaizumi had their fair share of admirers as well. Hearing people talk about how everyone in your friend group is hot besides you doesn’t exactly boost one’s confidence. Hanamaki can’t recall how many times he thought a girl liked him, just for her to not so subtly ask if he could hook her up with one of his friends.

And that feeling stuck with Hanamaki even after he moved on from high school and graduated from college and met you. Standing in front of the mirror in your shared bathroom, Hanamaki’s body comes under scrutiny. His body’s changed a lot from high school. He’s put on some weight, evident by the slight pudge of his stomach and arms. His friends still look as great as ever, he thinks bitterly to himself. Oikawa’s a fucking pro-athlete while Iwaizumi’s an athletic trainer and Matsukawa? Well, Matsukawa’s Matsukawa.

“What are you doing Hiro?” Your gentle question has Hanamaki swiveling around to look at you. You’re leaning against the frame of the door, head tilted with a soft, knowing look on your face.

Hanamaki’s quick to slip on the t-shirt he has clutched in between his hands. “Was just checking myself out. You know, admiring my beauty?” He jokes, hoping that you won’t comment on what you saw. He thought you would still be out right now, catching up with one of your friends who you haven’t seen in a while. He must have spent more time looking in the mirror than he thought if you were home already.

“Hiro.” You place a hand on his arm, preventing him from putting on his shirt the rest of the way. “Can you take your shirt off for me, baby?”

He pauses. Slowly, Hanamaki inches his shirt up over his head and peels it off. He tenses underneath your light touch. Your palms hover over his chest before you reach up to entwine your fingers together behind his neck.

“Babe, if you wanted to see me naked all you had to do was ask,” Hanamaki jests, trying to lighten the mood.

“You’re beautiful, Hiro.”

Hanamaki isn’t quick enough to suppress the disbelieving scoff that escapes from his lips. Your brows furrow upon hearing the noise, prompting you to look at your boyfriend’s face, who’s pointedly looking away from you.

“Hiro, you know I love you, right?” Your hands slip from behind his neck to rest against his smooth cheeks. You gently tilt his head until he’s looking in your direction.

“Course I do. I love you too,” he quietly replies. Despite the situation, you can’t help the way your lips slope up into a small smile. You’re sure that you’ll never grow tired of hearing Hanamaki say those words.

“And since I love you that means I love you in your entirety. Your perceived flaws and all.” Hanamaki’s hands on your hips tighten, his nails digging almost painfully through the fabric of your shirt, but you don’t pay attention to the slight pain. Your attention is wholly devoted to the man in front of you, who you only wish could see himself the way you do.

Because to you, Hanamaki Takahiro is not perfect in the slightest.

He’s messy, always forgetting to tuck his shoes neatly in the designated spot by the door and leaving a trail of dirty laundry around your home more often than not. When you try and reprimand him about it, he only offers you a sheepish grin that looks completely unrepentant while telling you it won’t happen again. (It does happen again. And again. And again.)

He’s loud. When you’re attempting to get work done in the room that the two of you have designated as your office, you can still hear him playing his video games in the living room even if the door is closed. It’s irritating when all you want is peace and quiet so you can get some shit done and you can hear your boyfriend cursing out his friends for “sucking ass.”

But the thing is, even if Hanamaki isn’t perfect, which you never expected of him, you still love him completely.

Because Hanamaki’s considerate. Whenever you’re in a group and others drown out your voice, whether knowingly or unknowingly, and you’re left thinking that you’re better off just not speaking at all, Hanamaki is there by your side, prompting you to continue your thought. Because even if no one else wants to listen to what you have to say, you know that Hanamaki does, no matter how pointless you may believe it is.

He makes your day so much better without even realizing it. The countless dumb memes he sends throughout the day make you giggle and snort and shake your head, wondering how Hanamaki has such a large collection of cursed memes, seemingly for every possible occasion. And even though they’re dumb and stupid, they make you laugh and remind you that Hanamaki’s thinking of you.

And he’s so beautiful to you. You can feel the skepticism and doubt radiating off of his form, but Hanamaki is truly beautiful in ways that you cannot fathom. The smattering of freckles that litter his skin, the unbelievably pinkish hue of his hair, the soft curves of his arms and legs and stomach - you love it all.

Because you love him.

“I’m going to list some of the reasons I love you so much. Not all, because then we’d be standing here for an eternity.” That earns you a snort from Hanamaki. It’s not much, but you’re glad to see that his shoulders have relaxed the slightest bit. He pulls you closer until your chests are flush together and his forehead is touching yours.

“I think I can spare the time to listen.”

tagging: @babyworld.

#hanimehub #haikyuu x reader #hq x reader #haikyuu scenarios #hq scenarios #haikyuu drabbles #hq drabbles #hanamaki takahiro x reader #hanamaki x reader #celeste.scribs #celeste.adores #adoring.hanamaki

[youwerenevermeanttofeelalone]

Christmas Figurines and Mistletoe | Damian Wayne

✦ pairing — older!Damian Wayne x gender neutral!Plus Size Reader

✦ word count — 2.4k

✦ request — Could you write something about being caught under the mistletoe with Damian Wayne? Fluffy and really mutty.

✦ warnings — nsfw, reader has a vagina, making out, vaginal sex, pouty Damian, jealousy if you squint, fluff.

✦ author’s note — I assumed anon meant smutty instead of mutty.

════════════════════════

Damian was driving you crazy. And not the good kind of crazy. You were regretting staying at Titan Tower instead of going Christmas shopping with your friends.

You had assumed they would need the bonding moment on their own. They would spend Christmas at the tower while you would do so at home, it was only fair.

The problem was that you didn’t think Damian would come to the tower so early. He had said he’d come by that evening to make sure everything was perfect for the Christmas party you all convinced him to throw.

He hated almost everything. And you were terrified of showing him the Christmas tree because it was... a lot.

Explaining to him that Christmas was supposed to be colorful and that meant things looking tacky here and there would be pointless. He had been clear on what he didn’t want to see.

Damian clenched his jaw as he stood in front of the tree. “Why are the lights off?”

“The Tower’s empty.”

“You are here,” he said drily. “What did you do?”

You immediately defended yourself, “I didn’t do anything! I wasn’t here when the tree was decorated. You sent Jon and me on that quick mission, remember?”

Damian grunted, nodding. To your horror, he lit the tree up himself. A strange sound spluttered from his throat, and he turned to look at you with narrowed eyes.

“Damian, come on! It’s cheerful.”

“Who was the genius who decided that colorful lights and colorful ornaments were a good look?”

“I don’t know... Christmas trees come from a German tradition, and—“

He interrupted you, exasperated, “This specific tree!”

You shrugged. The tree had already been decorated when you came back, just like the kitchen.

Oh, the kitchen. Damian hated it, it looked cluttered according to him.

He picked a ceramic figurine and examined it. “This is the sloppiest paint job I’ve ever seen.”

“Most figurines come like that. Or with deformed faces.”

He placed it back in its place, turning around to examine you. “I find it interesting,” he mused, dragging his eyes to the microwave which was decorated by a Christmas themed microwave cover, “that you seem to know a lot about figurines and their flaws.”

“I didn’t buy them if that’s what you’re implying.”

“You bought Christmas mugs for everybody.”

“Yes, but I didn’t buy those!” Seeing him incredulously lift his eyebrows, you groaned. “Look, those figurines are common in most households. My mom loves them. That’s it, that’s how I know how flawed the come.”

“What will you do if I inspect your bedroom and more of those ugly things are there?”

You slanted your head, making a motion for him to exit the kitchen with you. “Come. Inspect it.”

You lead the way, more relieved than exasperated. He would drop it once he realized you didn’t have anything to do with it, he always did.

Before he could cross the kitchen’s doorway, Damian halted his steps behind you, grasping your hips and pulling you closer to him. You turned around, now confused.

He looked up to the top of the doorframe. His eyes stayed there and he remained silent which prompted you to look up too.

You shifted as mistletoe came to view. “I— I didn’t put that there... I didn’t even know somebody had bought it!” You attempted to move, hoping he would drop his hands. When he didn’t, you said, “I’ll get it off.”

Damian’s grip on your hips tightened. “Not following the tradition would bring us bad luck,” he explained with ease.

Your stomach flipped. Damian wasn’t superstitious.

“Yeah,” you breathed out, “you’re right.”

You half-expected a comment along the lines of ‘I’m always right,’ but instead, he slowly leaned in. You did the same, meeting him in the middle. His lashes brushed your skin when his eyes lidded closed, prompting yours to flutter.

He kissed you softly, taking his time to map your lips with his own, somewhat afraid of kissing you wrong. You tentatively placed your hands on his arms, ever so slightly tilting your head.

Pulling away, you nervously watched him. Damian slowly opened his eyes, not helping your case and making you feel giddy as he gazed at you.

He brought you in for another kiss, resting his lower back against the counter. Damian swiped his tongue along your bottom lip, and you eagerly opened your mouth for him.

His pleased hum sent shivers down your spine. As if it wasn’t enough to have you breathless, his hands lightly wandered to your back. His touch and kiss didn’t match in rhythm, and it only drove you crazier.

One of his hands fell onto your ass, then the other. You instinctively pushed your hips forward, hands flying to his shoulders. He grasped your asscheeks in both hands and pulled your hips flush against his.

A low whimper left your mouth, going directly down his throat as he swallowed it by kissing you harder.

He pushed you back. Assuming he needed space, you withdrew your hands from his shoulders. Damian briefly frowned, yet his grip tightened on you as he tried a different approach by walking you backward instead of pushing you.

“I still need to inspect your room,” he said, voice low as he analyzed your reaction.

You didn’t trust your voice so you merely nodded. It would have been easier to walk to your room by yourself, or with his hands still on you but actually looking where you were stepping.

The thought of walking slowly so you could savor the weight of his hands on your body was tempting. But Damian hated wasting time. And slow walkers.

Your room was underwhelming in comparison to your teammates’, in part because you didn’t have time to decorate and in part because you didn’t know what to do with the empty wall near the window therefore you couldn’t make up your mind about anything else.

“You can open any drawer you want,” you told him, ready to put the moment you had just shared to the side.

Damian gave you an incredulous look upon realizing you were being serious.

His eyes were as green as ever, watching you carefully as though he expected you to read his mind. Not for the first time, you wished you could.

His hands twitched on your ass. One of them softly caressed the area, drawing random patterns on your clothed asscheek.

“You can’t possibly think I brought you here to look for a stupid Christmas ornament.”

“So you brought me to my bedroom just to make out?”

”Let’s go with that,” he conceded. “I didn’t want us to be interrupted.”

“Can’t let the team know about your crush on me?” you teased him before you could fully realize what you were saying. It was fun banter, meaningless.

Damian turned serious. “I’m certain they know by now, but I would rather not get caught groping your ass in the middle of the kitchen.”

“Wait... so you hung the mistletoe?”

“No. But I’m not above admitting I should thank whoever did it.” He firmly rested his hands on your ass, pushing his hips against yours. “Now, can we stop talking?”

“Sure.” You kissed him this time, wrapping your arms around his neck.

Soon, he had you on his lap as he sat on your bed, humping him while he kissed your neck. He inched your sweater up, brushing your belly with his fingertips.

“I want you,” you whined, aware that he would leave marks on your neck.

“I’m here,” he deadpanned, nipping at your throat as he continued lifting your sweater.

You stopped moving your hips, lightly shifting on his lap in order for your hands to reach his belt. He didn’t stop you, so you went on and unbuckled his belt before undoing his pants.

Damian made you stand up, not for a moment taking his hands off you. In contrast, your neck already missed his plump lips.

He undid your jeans in a hurry, lowering them down your knees along with your panties.

Bluntly, he asked, “You need me to finger you first?”

Feeling your face heat up as he intensely gazed at you in expectancy of an answer, you pulled one of your hands off his body and parted your folds.

You found embarrassing how wet he made you. Only able to shake your head, you avoided looking at him directly.

“Use your words,” he commanded softly.

“No,” you whispered. He shuffled, lifting his hips to get rid of his pants and boxers. The gesture made your skin tingle, and as you kicked your shoes and jeans off, you added, “I don’t need you to finger me.”

Hissing, Damian held his cock for you, looking down as you placed your palm on top of the back of his hand. Your hand replaced his, and you softly caressed his cock.

“Condom?”

He stretched his arm, slanting his body to the side as he reached for his wallet. He handed the condom to you without a word, throwing his wallet onto the floor.

Once you had rolled the condom down his cock, his gaze lifted. You straddled him again, slowly gliding down. A groan spurted from within him as you took your time to push inch after inch of his cock inside you.

Damian’s eyes were on your face, refusing to lose any detail of your reaction as he entered you for the first time.

You moaned, leaning forward to kiss his cheek. He held you by the waist, holding his breath as you ever so slightly drove your hips forward.

The more you moved, the less he cared about whether he was loud or not. There hadn’t been signs of the team coming back, but you were certain Damian wouldn’t have cared either way.

He began moving his hips at your rhythm, only prompting you to roll your hips more enthusiastically as you sucked on his neck.

You tried to push him to lay down on the bed, but he stopped you, speaking softly. “Wait. It’s hot in here.”

Feeling empty as you moved away from his lap in order to get rid of your remaining clothes, you entertained yourself by admiring his body as he did the same.

Damian grabbed your hand, bringing you on top of him as he laid on his back. He kissed you, holding the back of your head with a hand as the other rested on your lower back.

Such placement made it extremely easy for him to roll you over so he could be on top, and the distraction his lips bestowed upon you a calculated move.

“Meanie,” you lightheartedly panted on his mouth.

He huffed a laugh, giving you a short kiss. “You seem to like it.” Damian dragged the tip of his cock along your folds, briefly teasing you before shoving it inside you.

He caressed your thighs as he started to thrust in slow strokes, teasing you some more as he controlled his breath.

Bottoming out, Damian tightened his grip on your thighs. He rolled his hips, and by your request started going faster.

You dropped your head onto the pillow, whimpering freely. This time you were the one who didn’t care if the tower was still empty.

His mouth hovered over yours. You were struggling to keep your eyes open, and by the way he was smiling at you, he surely knew.

“You look so beautiful right now,” he told you, lips brushing against yours. “Even more beautiful than in my imagination.”

You canted your hips up, desperate for more. More of him, of his voice, of everything he was willing to give.

And he granted you such wishes, picking up his pace, kissing you, gripping your thighs just the way you liked it even though he had no way to know.

Your nails dug into his back as you attempted to have him closer. It was impossible to do so, yet you had to give it a try.

“You’re gonna make me come,” you announced.

As though your words had been a demand for him to make you come already, he pressed his fingers on your clit and started rubbing as he thrust inside you.

Tired and spent, you felt his weight fall on top of your front. Damian kissed the side of your neck as he rested his head on your shoulder, breathing heavily.

Eventually, you softly pushed him off you and begrudgingly left the bed in direction to the bathroom.

You were washing your legs with the showerhead when Damian entered the bathroom. “There are clean towels in the second drawer if you also want to wash yourself,” you informed him.

He opened said drawer as you shut the water. He didn’t make any move for a moment, but he took a clean towel nonetheless.

You patted your skin dry, moving out of his way so he could use the shower.

“You had condoms here,” he observed.

“Well, I didn’t know which type of condom you preferred...”

“Oh, are those somebody else’s preferred ones?”

You slipped a clean pair of panties on. He watched you. “Please tell me you’re not actually angry because of this.”

“Your shower gel smells nice,” he opted for saying.

You hummed. “It’s new. I got tired of the blue one.”

Giving him privacy, you exited the bathroom and decided to check the mattress in case you needed to change the bedding.

Back in your bedroom, Damian silently put his boxers back on. He didn’t bother with his pants nor his shirt.

“I’m not angry,” he finally stopped avoiding the subject.

You tried not to frown. “You’re pouting.”

His expression turned blank. “I don’t pout.”

“Whatever helps you sleep at night.”

“Come to the Christmas party with me.”

“I’ll be at the party either way.”

“Yes,” he gritted before inhaling deeply. “But I want you to be with me. As my date.”

“What would the difference be?” You didn’t understand why it was such a big deal. “We know everybody already.”

“For one, it would help me sleep at night.” He took you by the face with one hand, looking straight into your eyes. “Yes or no?”

“Yes.” Your voice sounded weird due to the pressure of his fingers on your cheeks

Damian gave you a sweet kiss, loosening his grip on your face to cup your cheek. You softly placed your hand on the back of his head, giving him another kiss. And another, and another, until you lost count.

#damian wayne x reader #damian wayne x plus size reader #damian wayne smut #damian wayne

[minor-solemnity]

Curiosity pt. 1

See, the thing is, Riddle is charming and polite and everyone loves him to greater or lesser extent, but he also has something of a reputation for refusing to let things go. His essays are all thoroughly researched, no stone unturned in his quest for knowledge; his friends all defer to him on matters that they really should be able to handle themselves; even the professors openly admire his determination and diligence in his pursuits be they academic or extracurricular.

You really don’t want all that focus and interest zeroed in on you.

Of all the things it could have started because of, its starts because of quidditch.

It’s no real secret that you find quidditch to be one of the dullest games to watch in existence. Well, in fairness, you find most sports incredibly dull to watch, but quidditch in particular - the players are so high in the air that you can barely see what’s going and they move so quickly that it’s pointless keeping track - is awful.

You wave your house flag around halfheartedly and wish that someone would hurry up and find the snitch already so the game could be over and you could retreat to the castle to do something actually enjoyable. Like stick pins in your eyes or something. “Oh come on! At least try to look like you’re having fun - that’s our best friend up there!” Marie cajoles you, nudging your shoulder playfully. “Our best friend who just so happens to be the first ever female Hogwarts quidditch player. A triumph for witches everywhere.”

Marie, unlike you, loves the game. She’s gone to every match since first year, regardless of whether or not its your house that’s playing. You muster up a grin and nod. You can be excited for Stephanie. Stephanie is the best player on the team, on any of the teams, and honestly, it’s a fucking travesty that she’s only just been accepted to play on the team. You’re all in your sixth year, for fuck’s sake. “Stephanie is the only good thing about the game,” You agree with a grin, “And oh, look, she’s just scored another goal.” The crowd around you roar and you roll your eyes even as you join in with the raucous chanting that spreads like wildfire through the stands.

Slytherin loses the match. You’re not usually one for house pride, but you don’t deny that it feel incredibly good to sit down at dinner next to Stephanie who is still in her quidditch gear and listen to her gloat about her success. “God, did you see Malfoy’s stupid face when I scored for the third time? I thought he was going to have an aneurysm. That would have been funny. He’s been making such stupid comments for weeks about how the Slytherin team is superior just because their genitalia dangles down.”

“Surely that would make it less comfortable to ride a broom?” You ask, eyes wide with faux-innocence. Marie snorts into her pumpkin juice and Stephanie laughs, bright and infectious. “Seriously though, I’m so proud of you - you carried the team today and it’s about time that everyone recognised how good you are.”

“Well, I wouldn’t have been able to do it without you, would I? Doing all that research and making all those bribes for a game you can’t stand.” Stephanie says with a sly grin. “Preparing for your dazzling career in politics?”

“I hardly bribed them,” You mutter, a blush creeping up your neck. “It was just a matter of making a case that they couldn’t refuse. Nothing underhand about that at all.” And really, you hadn’t bribed any of the staff… Blackmailed, maybe, at a stretch. But bribery is not your style. “Besides, the British and Irish Quidditch League started letting women to play professionally over five years ago - it’s ridiculous that Hogwarts is so far behind the times.”  You’ve been following the news that some high powered donors to the League were threatening to end their patronage because hardly any women had made it onto the teams since the rule change, but how exactly were women meant to stand on a equal footing to the men if they weren’t allowed to play on the school teams? You’d just done what needed to be done.

Your conversation is interrupted by a polite cough behind you and you turn around to face Tom Riddle, looking as frustratingly beautiful as ever. He’s got his hand clasped neatly behind his back and is smiling down at all three of you pleasantly enough. There’s something about his eyes though - a tightness to the skin around them and a calculating inquisitiveness that you don’t like. No, you don’t like it one little bit. “Can we help you, Riddle?” Marie asks and you have to force yourself not to chuckle at the thinly veiled warning laced in her tone.

“I just wanted to congratulate Miss Kirkdale on the game today. It was well fought match and you played valiantly.” He says, nodding towards Stephanie who flushes at the compliment. You don’t roll your eyes, but its a near thing. Riddle’s good looks and charming persona is enough to get even the most strong willed girls in school to act like lovesick puppies. “I was just saying the other day how odd it is that Hogwarts has taken so long to let girls play on the teams, and apparently we have you to thank for the change of heart?” This, he addresses to you and, yes, that’s definitely curiosity shining in his eyes. Curiosity that you don’t want directed at yourself. Damnit. Why couldn’t Stephanie keep her mouth shut sometimes?

You direct your gaze just over his shoulder, not wanting to meet his eyes. There’s something unsettling about having his attention directed solely on you. You feel far more seen than you like. “I hardly did anything. Just put forward a new perspective.” Which, well, you’re not lying. You’re just not revealing the whole truth. You chance a glance at Riddle and realise with a sinking feeling that he’s not convinced. 

See, the thing is, Riddle is charming and polite and everyone loves him to greater or lesser extent, but he also has something of a reputation for refusing to let things go. His essays are all thoroughly researched, no stone unturned in his quest for knowledge; his friends all defer to him on matters that they really should be able to handle themselves; even the professors openly admire his determination and diligence in his pursuits be they academic or extracurricular.

You really don’t want all that focus and interest zeroed in on you.

He hums in response, eyes lingering on your face. “I somehow find that hard to believe.” He quirks his lips in a small smile and you don’t look at his lips. You don’t. His smile widens. “Well, as much as I’d love to stay and chat, I’m afraid I should attend to Abraxas - he’s awfully competitive. Until next time.” With a final nod towards you, he turns and heads back to his own table.

His parting words hang ominously in the air. Until next time.

(part 1) (part 2) (part 3) (part 4) (part 5) (part 6)

#tom riddle #tom marvolo riddle #tom riddle x oc #tom riddle x y/n #tom riddle x you #tom riddle imagine #tom riddle imagines #tom riddle fanfic #tom riddle fanfiction #minific #tom riddle x reader

[yandere-wishes]

Sacrificial Bride Part 1//Twisted Wonderland X Reader//

Alright well, that's enough writing for the next few days if you excuse me I'm going to go sulk in my corner. Huge thanks to @softyswork​ who’s story about reader being sent to Malleus as a bride inspired this series. Also, I REALLY want to make some sort of modern-day Frankenstein it would be an amazing scientific breakthrough! You'll understand what I mean when you get to Idia's part lol.

💚🐉Malleus Draconia🐉💚

It was a common rumor around your village that ever since the death of the sleeping princess your settlement had never been the same. For you, this was nothing more than a fairy tale meant to spark a scrap of hope in the hearts of naive, suffering children who were still too young to fully understand why their fathers never returned from their hunting trips or why there was barely anything to eat for dinner.

Every time you heard this dreaded tail, you couldn't help but scuff. For as long as you've been alive your town had been in utter disarray and chaos. Monsters from the woods -what the town's folk called "fae"- attacked the village daily. Stealing jewels, destroying homes, sometimes even swallowing children or sucking the blood of the dormant. There was also the looming threat of the green flames. Blazing emerald fires who couldn't be subdued by neither water nor dirt. They advanced further into the territory of the village by each full cycle of the moon. Leaving behind in their trail, thick impenetrable thorn bushes that had taken the homes of many and the lives of many more.

Awful, dreaded creatures those fae where...

But alas you did not yet know just how cruel they could be.

On another periodic morning, your younger sister jolted you awake, dragging you to the town center before you got a chance to change out of your nightgown.

In the center of the square was short man..no...not a man you noticed his pointed drawn back ears. "Fae" you gasped under your breath. But unlike the monstrous fairies that ravished your town taking on the appearances of trees and woodland creatures, this one resembled a boy of 15. The young-looking male began to speak, his voice was clear like crystals, and to his tone bats began to flock overhead. "Truly dreadful, these fairy folk are" your sister uttered in terror as she buried her face in your side.

"Heed my words, mortals. The young prince of thorns has decided to take a wife. By the setting of the sun a full day from today, two of his guards will come to collect your offering. If you chose to disregard this Wa-- friendly advice, then what is left of your town will be decimated before the end of summer. Your children eaten, wives imprisoned and husbands killed!" An unsteady hush rippled through the crowd. Some hothead youths began to throw rocks at the stranger only for the bats hovering above to shield him from the stones. Mothers hugged their children close begging for the man to "just leave".

"If" the man's voice rose once more like a cadaver emerging from the grave " my young master is pleased with your sacrifice than we shall reward you! Bring good health and prosperity to your otherwise sick and decaying village." His last words melted into the open air before he vanished in a cloud of squealing bats and ebony smoke.

The town's folk erupted in screeches, cursing at their deities while simultaneously praying to any god that would listen.

"Help us!"

"save us!"

"Don't let them take our daughters!"

The screams escalated to the point where you had to cover your ears with your shaking hands. Your eyes scanning each of the villager's faces, a pathetic lot they were, you thought to yourself. Scared by the words of a young magician. In a flash, your heart sped up, adrenaline pumping through your veins, as you marched to the center square where the boy had been mere moments ago. You stood tall, cupping your hands over your mouth.

"Listen well you disquiet, mindless lot!"

All eyes turned to you. Some holding looks of confusion, whilst others harbored glances of hope.

"This fae is lying! No way will they be satisfied with just one measly girl! No matter who we sacrifice to their so-called master, they'll still come after us! They'll still destroy our village! Let's not be stupid! Let's find a way to barricade the city instead of arguing over who to sacrifice!"

For an endless second all was quite. It was like the world had stopped turning, frozen in its place in the universe trying to decide what to do.

Then it happened,

Chants reverberating through the air

"Sacrifice her!" "Sacrifice her!"

"Sacrifice her!" "Sacrifice her!"

"Sacrifice her!"........................

WHAT!

NO!

DID THOSE MORONS NOT LISTEN TO A SINGLE WORD YOU SAID!

The crowd started advancing. Eyes locked on your figure like those of a leopard on its prey.  Their mouths were all a gap, chanting the words "sacrifice" over and over again. From behind the mob, your eyes locked with your sister's. You could practically feel the despair rolling off her figure as she covered her eyes and fell to her knees, her whole body rattling with a sort of distant rage...

A full day....it's funny how time passes all so quickly no matter what you do. Day in and day out nothing changes, pain is still pain, laughter is still laughter. Time just keeps slipping from between your fingers like sand. Even in the direst of times, Time doesn't show mercy, never once does it cease. It just ticks and ticks away until the inevitable moment arrives.

Your sister and aunt -the only two relatives that you hadn't lost to the fae- were in charge of preparing you for your so-called "wedding". Since your town was poor and isolated from other civilizations there wasn't much they could do to enhance your beauty. Smashing some berries to add color to your lips -and fervently ravishing the remains- using some coal to add shade behind your eyes, as well as around them and patting the dust of rose petals against your cheek. By the end, you hardly recognized the person staring back from the mirror. Sure the adjustments were minor but this was the most stunning you'd ever looked. "Is it almost time" your voice quivered, failing to hide the tears that began to fall. "Please don't cry sweetheart, we don't have any more coal to fix your eyes with." Your aunt's tone was monotone almost bordering on heartless. You couldn't really blame her, she'd gotten so used to having her loved ones plucked from her. One more would be no different. Sniffing as to keep the tears at bay, you nodded slowly. Your glossy eyes locked with your aunt's you could see the same fear and exhaustion in her fading irises as the night her son was slaughtered in front of her.

"Just a few reminders" your sister's voice was cheery like the chirping of early morning birds, but her face mimicked that of a kicked puppies. "Remember when the prince...fae...when he..you know...Oh, Lord please tell me he won't" She was shivering again. Her face twisted in horror. You knew what she was thinking, she was imagining you laying in the bed of that...that thing. She was imagining him entering you, kissing up and down your neck. Leaving patches of red skin over smooth flesh, bruises wherever his clawed hands touched you. She was imagining what was no doubt going to happen to you tonight...

the mere thought made bile rise to your throat.

"Darling, just keep saying how much you like it. It's all any man wants to hear." again your aunt or rather her lackluster form of speech was the rope binding you to your sanity.

"Do fae even have...those parts like humans do?" Your sister asked, only to be met with a glare from your aunt. "Stop wasting time on pointless questions! Hurry up and see if this dress fits your sister."

Sure enough, as you were escorted to where the thorn bushes met the village, two men, one standing tall and proud, whilst the other looked like he may topple over from fatigue at any moment, were awaiting you.

The green-haired man let out a haughty laugh, his blazing eyes scanning you from head to toe. "She's hardly worthy of the young master!" His dreadful voice was like the booming of thunder clouds. "It doesn't matter, Malleus-sama needs to be wedded off quickly so he can produce an heir. None of us are getting any younger by standing here debating the "worthiness" of yet another measly human" the silver-haired male's voice was the exact opposite of his comrades, his voice was soft and breathy like light drizzle after a storm.

The green-haired man looked ready to argue once more, but before he could open his mouth, his violet-eyed counterpart waved something thin in the air casing a pathway to open between the hedges.

It was dark between the brambles. The air was thick, stuffy, every breath was a struggle. Although it seemed neither of your traveling buddies minded the discomfort. Did fae even need air to survive?

After what could have been no less than a couple of hours, your small group made it to a large clearing where only a few rays of the sun leaked through the thick smoky clouds. Miss matched flowers in shades of grey littered the rocky barren ground. Maybe at some point, this place had been beautiful, stunning even...but whenever that time had been it was long gone now.

As you ventured farther into this monochrome land of loss and sorrow, the three of you approached a castle. It towered over everything else, grim in all its glory. "Young master Malleus is awaiting you inside..." The green-haired male's voice trailed off as his speech was interrupted by the deafening creaking of the doors parting open. Without another word the two men dragged you inside, pushing you through spiral staircases and long bleak passageways. Until you arrived at a lavish-looking room, a large throne sitting smugly in the front of the room. It's black, spiked appearance was enough to make you gasp in horror, you didn't desire to meet the monster that perched atop that throne. "Don't be so afraid." the silver-haired man whispers, his head is almost resting on your shoulder. "Malleus-sama is kind and fair. He is sure to love you better than any human ever could." you catch a hint of nostalgic sadness in the last part, like a long lost part of the lavender eyed boy's past caught in his throat like a glass shard.

Trumpets roared through the room blaring as two men, one short and fickle whilst the other tall and brooding walked in. "Malleus~" The short one sang as they both stopped in front of you "Say hello to your lovely new wife." the tall man's emerald eyes landed on you. His lips parted in a threatening smile...or maybe it was a smirk? He didn't seem to be too good at displaying emotions. Slowly he descended onto one knee, slipping your hand into his and kissing the top lightly.

"Hello, my darling little wife."

🧡🦁Leona Kingscholar🦁🧡

The After Glow Savanna was an absolute hell to be born in if your family did not belong to some royal inner court class. The endless days spent scavenging for scraps of food, walking miles for a simple glass of water, had become a sort of broken, habit beaten into the residents of the smaller less fortunate districts.

Eventually, you too would follow in your parent's footsteps, working odd jobs around the neighborhood, getting married to some guy, having kids, and giving them the same dreary life your parents had given you. It was simple -miserable- but simple never the less. In an odd way, you found a sort of comfort in how everything was set in stone. How you'd suffer through a few years then die of starvation or some disease in your husband's arms.

But little did you know that the only comfort you had in your horrible life was also going to be swiped from you.

When Ruggie, a dear childhood friend of yours returned from his prestigious school for the winter holidays you were overjoyed! A week with your best friend was the greatest gift you could ask for! But that excitement soon dulled when he announced to the neighborhood what the royal family had planned for the underdeveloped parts of the country.

"They want to demolish the homes and build parks and shopping strips instead"

The people of your tiny community gasped, shock and hopelessness mixing over their dirty, worn out faces. Some older siblings shielded the ears of their younger kin, some mothers hugged their children closer to their chests. "They can't do that to us!" Your voice was like a beacon through the thick fog of confusion. "We can't let them!" You turned to Ruggie who was seated next to you. His blue-grey eyes held a foreign sadness that you had never seen before. He was hiding something...something so grim that he was forced to shove it into the depths of his soul, locking it up and throwing away the key.

"There is a way..."

For such a hopeful phrase, Ruggie's tone harbored no happiness. You could practically see the tears that were clouding his beautiful eyes. "Tell us" someone from the crowd demanded, others soon joined in with their own chants. For a long moment, Ruggie said nothing, the shouts of despair falling on deaf ears.

"If.." his voice trailed off, as his gaze grew distant.

"If someone from the neighborhood were to marry the second prince..." Gasps of fear filled the air. Even the mere mention of the second prince's name was enough to send chills down people's spins.

"Then they could, as the newly appointed  princess, convince the royal family and counsel to scrap this monstrous plan." No one uttered another word. No one was brave enough to face the man who could destroy anything with a simple touch.

But the sake of these people, people who had nothing but their families and a muddy roof over their head was on the line.

Do something, a tiny voice in your head screamed, save them, it begged. You shifted your head so to get a glimpse of Ruggie's face. "I-" you began but were cut off before you could even finish.

"I know you would say that."

His voice broke over every syllable. He knew you would give up your depressing nostalgia for the sake of others. Life in the castle would be hell, being married to that monster would be something worst than the dwellings of the devil.

It was a speedy arrangement, so fast that your head didn't have time to process anything. In the end, it almost seemed like the royal family was desperate to find a spouse for their youngest son.

Just marry him! Was what all the absentee looks told you.

Early that morning, Ruggie had dragged you to the castle, all tears, and grumbles. The palace guards let him in with no restrain, it almost felt like he'd been here before. Your childhood friend led you to a room in the further corner of a grand hall. He told you to stay outside as he went in to chat with the prince. Moments later the newly appointed king and queen came to usher you into a privet room and discuss the marriage. Not an hour later your fate had been sealed, you'd be married off to prince Leona tomorrow at sunrise. For "historical purposes" your neighborhood would be preserved and even taken care of. 'Historical purposes' you thought 'more the like a bribe to get you to marry this beast.

that night you were dragged this way and that by the queen herself. Taken for fitting after fitting. Trying on hundreds of wedding dresses who's prices could feed every mouth in your neighborhood for months! "Leona isn't very classy" the queen sighed in disappear. "He would probably prefer you to be in something laxer, shorter if you will" the tailors ran around trying to find something that would fit her vague description, as you stood facing her royal highness.

"What's he like?" you asked soullessly

"Spoiled, although not as heartless as the rumors make him out to be"  She didn't seem to like giving straight answers

"will he harm me? It was an honest question, although the lack of thinking it took before the queen replied made your heart skipped a beat.

"Quite possibly, he is rather...aggressive at times. Just don't let his degrading comments get to you. He's not used to being around people"

The more she described the second-born prince the more it seemed she was actually speaking of some feral dog that had raised in isolation.

Oh, how doomed you were.

The wedding was even faster than the preparation. Ruggie walked you down an aisle of flowers, walking over the petals, killing them once and for all, ending their pointless existence. You stood by your self at the altar awaiting your husband to be. It took a rather long time before the doors were flung open and the king waltzed in carrying his struggling brother under his arm. "No need to worry, Leona was taking one of his catnaps again and forgot about today's events" the king announced, in what could only be described as a mock lively tone.

How on earth does someone forget their wedding! This prince really wasn't a typical human...heck you where beginning to think that the feral dog would have made a better groom.

snap, snap

A few magazine pictures here, a couple of family photos there...

Everything was so bright and loud...

right before you and the second prince were thrown into the darkness of his room. In the obscurity, you could ONLY make out the glowing of his emerald eyes.

You could feel him shifting closer, all the while you took shaking steps backwards. " I thought wives were supposed to leap into the arms of their husbands? Tell me little herbivore do I frighten you?"

Your voice refused to leave your throat, too afraid to come into contact with the prince.

"What's the matter? Did they not teach you to speak in on the streets you grew up on. Poor thing~"

Leona pounced across the room, tackling you to the ground. His sheer weight pinning you to the carpeted floor. The sound of fabric tearing echoed through the silence.

How careless these royal were was the only intelligible thought that came to your frenzied brain.

Goosebumps littered your skin as Leona's claws cut into your flesh. His lips kissed over each wound as he made his way up to your cherry painted lips.

"You look so cute, you know, like a little mouse about to get devoured by a starving lion."

💙💀Idia Shroud💀💙

The rhythm of his heartbeat was slowing down, it felt like the patter of ants atop one's flesh. He was dying...this was an irreversible fact. The love of your life was dying and there was nothing you could do but sit idly by and watch the life fade from his pale bruised face. Your thumb ran over his knuckles in robotic-like strokes. Hours had passed, you'd shed all the tears that you had. He was gone...that was all there was to it.

For a hopeless second, you flicked your eyes to the open window on the opposite side of the room, There was never any sun on the island of lamination but regardless today seemed brighter than any other day. "How cruel" you muttered in a deadpan voice. Outside something...or better yet...someone was running through the fields, chasing what looked like a butterfly. The young child had blazing blue hair a symbol of the Shroud family...

THE SHROUD FAMILY

Your breath hitch in your lungs, your heart began to pound furiously in your chest. They could help you though hopefully. There family where distant relatives of the god of the underworld and a few years back -to your regulation- the hair of the family had been able to semi revive his younger brother. If he was able to bring back a child from the dead than surly they would have no problem returning your lost lover to you.

Your eyes waltz over his dormant face one last time before you got up and ran for the door.

"This is all for you my love, all of this is for you"

The Shroud family mansion was located at the top of one of the many hills that plagued the island. It was a dark grisly building that resembled the castles from old tales, where monsters laid dormant. Rumors spiraled around the rural civilization, some saying that the family was cursed by the lord of the dead, whilst others claimed that the shroud family were the long lost descendants of the lord of the dead and the maiden of spring. The curse had been placed on the family by the temperamental mother of the maiden of spring, anathematizing the family to be plagued with death and disappear for the rest of eternity.

Regardless of what their misfortune was, they may very well be the last people on earth who could help you. Surely if the family had brought back their youngest than they could bring back your lover!

You knuckles tapped furiously at the old metal doors of the frightful residence. The rhythm was unkept, unsteady, it's mere sound radiated urgency.

"PLEASE HELP ME"

Your throat burned as you screamed out those three lousy words.

After what felt like forever, the doors cracked open, revealing a tall man obscured by the shadows. Any light that touched the interior of the house seemed to die acidity, making peering inside nearly impossible.

"What business do you have?" The man's voice was croaky as if his vocal cords hadn't been used in years. For a split second, you closed your eyes, trying to organize the thoughts in your head. "My...my...h-hus...lover, my lover is d-dead...o-or rather he is dying....probably fully gone by now..." despite the mess of stuttered letters and mixed-up words, the man seemed to understand your situation. With a long sigh, he pulled you into the somber house.

Fingers still wrapped tightly around your wrist he pulled you around, guiding you through the darkness until you reached a large room lit only by the mysterious blue flames of the fireplace. Sitting by the warmth was a...well it was hard to tell, her face -despite it displaying every bone of her visage coupled with dark sunken eyes- resembled that of a woman no older than thirty, whilst her body resembled a decaying skeleton. What was she? Was she the lady of the residence or yet another monster this bizarre family had created.

"My, love" the man began to speak, his voice was somehow cleared like it had been given some sort of jolt. "This young lady needs Idia's help, she wants to bring back her lover from the dead."

The woman said nothing, her eyes staring ahead, burning a hole in the wall right by your head. "What will she give him in return" despite her "deteriorating" appearance her voice was like soft silk on one's skin, melodious and fair.

"Why herself!" This time the man's voice boomed across the house, echoing through the hallways and falling on you like a cave in.

"M-myself! What the hell do you mean!"

"It sounds fair" the women agreed "my darling sweet son saves your lover and instead you agree to marry him! Oh how wonderful, just like in the tales about grandfather Hades!"

She seemed too thrilled about this, her snow-white eyes gleaming with a sort of delusional passion.

"Idia! Idia honey! Come down your father has a surprise for you!"

The hollow sound of footsteps soon filled the quiet air. Followed by another soft blue glow.

Was there no normal fire in this house?

But it wasn't fire, not exactly. When your eyes fell on the heir of the Shroud family, you suddenly felt a nervous wave crash over you. There was something -even more- unsettling about him, he looked nothing like his charming little brother. For one his hair wasn't...well hair! Sure you'd expect a small batch of blazes heading upwards but this was something else entirely! It resembled a large bonfire that floated towards the ground, rouge sparks falling in every which direction, sizzling and then dying abandoned on the floor. And his eyes, Miosis like pupils floating around in a pool of lemon yellow.

But all the physical appearances aside, the most unsettling thing about him was the gloomy aura that leaked off him, suffocating anyone in his presence. Nervously you took a step back only to be yanked forward again by the taller man.

"Idia baby!" His mother ran over to him, cradling his hands in hers "This cute young lady has agreed to marry you if you can save her lover, just like in that old tale about your great grandfather! Oh, my this is all so romantic!"

It seemed like no one here understood that you were in love WITH SOMEONE ELSE! Or maybe they did and chose to disregard it. Instead, using the bits they retained as kindling to feed their raw excitement. You shifted your gaze back to Idia's face. To your utter terror, he was...smiling? Could that...look...even be called a smile? It seemed more like the way a shark would bare its teeth at a defenseless seal! Oh, gods please don't let this...thing...be your future husband!

"It should be easy enough," His golden gaze landed on you "W-when did...did he die?" it took a few moments before you register that he was talking to you or technically asking you something. "A...A  few..." your voice cracked, tears streaming down your eyes.

"So recently...okay that shouldn't be a p-problem." He turned on his heels and walked back into the seclusion of the halls "I'll grab some things and meet you by the front door"

A few things ended up being a pile of wires and bolts. Something that looked like a light blue ball of energy and so many tools whose names seemed to go over your head.

Idia was kneeling by your lover's bed, pulling apart the skin and fusing metal in its place. Your darling's chest was cracked open, his ribs poking out towards the sky as if praying for life from the lord of the sky. Every once in awhile Idia would pull out a long tool with smoke floating from the top. He'd lay it on an organ watching as the tissue fiber sizzled away under the heat. He would then tie wires and small circular batteries inside.

"His heart stopped working, I'm guessing from some sort of shock"

You just hummed in response, too caught up in how the man you loved was beginning to look like a modern-day Frankenstein rather than a human being.

The sun had long since faded when Idia finally got up from his spot. His bones cracked and screeched at the sudden change, his muscles giving out halfway leaving him to rely on the wall for support to stand. Your lover's chest had been sewn back and covered with a silver piece of metal. His neck was wrapped in the same sort of alloy. His left arm had been cut open so Idia could shove the energy ball inside than cover it, leaving a small enough gap for wires that stretched from his chest to weld into the ball.

"He just needs a boost" Idia murmured that shark-like grin overtaking his pale face once more. From the side table, he plucked up to jumper cables and clipped them on either side of his neck. Jolts and crackles filled the room and sparks flew in every direction, the once-dead body shuffled around, arms and legs moving at random. You shrieked and duck behind Idia.

Only then did he pry the clips from his neck.

Nothing

for too long nothing happened... then there was a slight wiggle in one finger, then another. His eyes slowly began to prey open, looking over his surroundings. The moment his confused gaze feel onto you. Idia turned you around to face him, clumsily smashing his blue chapped lips onto yours.

From the corner of his eyes, Idia watched as the other man began to understand what was happening...even if he was just resurrected there was still agony at the sight of his lover kissing another...

Good! That should show him who you belonged to now!

#twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland x reader #twisted wonderland headcanons #twisted wonderland imagines #twisted wonderland x you #yandere twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland idia shroud #twisted wonderland idia shroud x reader #twisted wonderland idia shroud x you #idia shroud #idia shroud x reader #idia shroud x you #yandere idia shroud #yandere idia shroud x reader #yandere idia shroud x you #idia shroud imagine #idia shroud headcanons #twisted wonderland leona kingscholar #twisted wonderland leona kingscholar x reader #twisted wonderland leona kingscholar x you #leona kingscholar #leona kingscholar x reader #leona kingscholar x you #yandere leona kingscholar #yandere leona kingscholar x reader #yandere leona kingscholar x you #leona kingscholar headcanons #leona kingscholar imagin #twisted wonderland malleus draconia #twisted wonderland malleus draconia x reader

[fallen-gravity]

Intellectual Adequacy

Stan hates to start any unnecessary conflict, especially when there’s a very real chance that Ford will be moving to California next year, but he knows deep down that if they don’t talk about this now then he’ll never have the courage to bring it up again.

“Wait,” Stan shouts to Ford, and he stops dead in his tracks.

~~

Notes: In which one little plot bunny that was preventing me from getting any work done becomes its own rabbit hole.

I genuinely cannot believe that in the six-seven years I've been in this fandom, I've never tried my hand at the fix-it-fic where Stan and Ford just talk it out as teenagers, just like they should've in canon. I've seen a lot of different approaches, but I feel like I've yet to see one that tackles it from the perspective of Stan's own battle with his self-worth, rather than the actions he or Ford have already taken.

AO3

Stan hates the principal’s office more than anywhere else in the world.

He swears, he’s called down every other week for something that’s not even his fault. He punched Crampelter in the nose for harassing some poor freshman? Principal’s office. He talks back to a teacher calling his classmate stupid for forgetting an “obvious” geometry equation? Principal’s office. He accidentally drops his pencil during an exam and bends over to pick it up? He must be cheating. Principal’s office.

If you asked him, the whole idea of sending kids to the principal’s office is pointless to begin with. Oh, you did something bad, and now we’re gonna make the big man in charge tell your mommy and daddy? How old do these people think they are?

Stan wishes he could say that this time is okay because they’re not even talking to him. They’re talking up a storm to Ford in there about another college scholarship and all the reasons why he and he alone would be the perfect candidate for some random school all the way out in California

But it’s not okay, because the longer Stan sits in the dumb waiting room the more he’s starting to feel like chopped liver. They’ve been in there for at least five minutes with no sign of stopping anytime soon, but every time Stan asks the secretary if he can just go back to class already she dismisses him with a wave of her hand and it’ll be your turn soon, sit back down.

He’s thinking of just sneaking out the next time the secretary buries her nose back into her magazine. It’s simple: just wait for her to pull it out from her desk, sneak by as quick as he can, and slip out the door and back to class before she can even notice he’s gone.

He stands from his chair, pretending to stretch and preparing to execute, but freezes solid when he hears his name being spoken from within the principal’s office.

“…What about our little free spirit Stanley?”

It’s Ma, and whatever it is they’re talking about in there, she isn’t happy about it. Frowning, Stan glances over at the secretary to make sure that she isn’t staring at him, and presses his ear to the office door to listen to their conversation more carefully.

The principal laughs in response. “That clown? At this rate he’ll be lucky if he graduates high school”

Stan’s taken aback by the harsh choice of words, but if he knows Ford, then he won’t just sit there and let the principal talk about him like that. He presses his ear further into the door, waiting for Ford to interrupt the principal’s rambling about how he’s never going to amount to anything with you just don’t know him like I do, or something along those lines, but it never comes.

Not a single interjection that…anything he’s saying is wrong. Not from Pa, not from Ford….and not even from Ma.

They don’t…all really believe that, right?

There has to be something else he’s missing. He bets they’re defending his honor right now, and the reason they’re not making a big scene about it is because they’re in public.

Yeah.

He’s got nothing to worry about.

He peeks into the window, expecting to see Ma glaring daggers into the principal, or Ford silently cursing him out behind his back, but what he’s met with is so much worse. Ma and Pa are exchanging warm smiles, and Ford is frantically shaking hands with the principal, beaming brighter than Stan’s ever seen in his entire life.

Matter of fact, Stan’s not sure he’s ever seen any of them look so happy in his entire life.

He’s worthless, he’ll never go anywhere, and they’re all smiling about it.

Stan’s heart drops to his stomach, and he slides to the floor to join it.

Is this some kind of cruel joke? Were they expecting him to listen in on their conversation? Is this their cruel workaround of telling him he’ll never amount to shit?

He sighs.

He stays there on the cold tiled floor for what feels like hours, contemplating all the times he’s been called dumb, or stupid, or a terrible influence on his brother. All of those times when he could brush it off just because it was coming from someone he didn’t care about.

But worthless?

Behind his back, spoken directly to people he loves, and they won’t even bother to defend him?

That one’s new, and if Stan is going to be completely honest with himself, it’s much harder to brush off his shoulders than all those other times.

Stan doesn’t even notice the office door opening until it nearly smacks him in the back of his head. He quickly jumps to his feet and brushes himself off, pretending the best that he can that he wasn’t just eavesdropping on them for the past ten minutes.

“Stanley!” Ford comes bursting out of the room, his grin threatening to split his face in two. “I just received the most incredible news! The admissions team at West Coast Tech heard about my science fair project, and-”

The beam suddenly slips from his face, replaced with some sort of mix of confusion and concern. “Is...Something wrong?”

Stan rubs at his eyes to make sure he hadn’t started tearing up without realizing it, but no, his eyes are bone dry.

Curse Ford’s stupid ability to read his mind.

Stan covers up the gesture of rubbing at his eyes with a yawn, and stretches his arms in the air. “Nothing except you taking forever in there” he flashes a fake smile easily. “Talk about a blabbermouth, am I right?” Stan gestures towards the principal with his thumb.

Ford laughs, and returns his gaze to the pamphlet in his hands. “I don’t know,” he says. “I don’t think he’s so bad”

Stan opens his mouth to quip back, but Ford doesn’t seem to be paying much attention anymore. He’s just staring at that dumb pamphlet, his grin slowly but surely returning to his face again.

Instead, Stan shoves his hands in his pockets and shrugs, turning his gaze to the floor. “Yeah, I guess you’re right”

~~~

Stan feels like he’s in a haze for the rest of the day. Even when he tries to focus on class to take his mind off of things and redirect it on anything else, he can’t get his mind to stick.  Not even final period gym class can save him, which is really saying something, because the gymnasium is usually the one place where he thrives.

Worthless.

The word won’t stop bouncing around in his skull, hitting him where he’s most sensitive.

It doesn’t help a thing that Ford is dead silent on their walk home from school. He’s usually chatting up a storm to Stan about stuff he doesn’t really understand, and under normal circumstances Stan can’t wait to get home so he can bury his head in his pillow and drown out the sound of Ford’s babbling.

But today he’s not even looking in Stan’s direction, just burying his nose in the West Coast Tech brochure with stars in his eyes, and now Stan wants nothing more than to hear Ford babbling on about his advanced physics classes.

It’s almost insulting.

Stan sighs, and lightly taps on Ford’s shoulder to catch his attention. “Can we talk?”

“Hmm?” Ford blinks, like he needs a few moments to readjust to reality. “Oh! Of course. I was actually planning on asking you the same thing” he places the brochure in his pocket. “Same place as always?”

Stan nods. “Same place as always”.

It’s a quick change of direction and a shortcut to the beach before they find themselves on their old swing set. By now they’re both too heavy to use it properly without a risk of snapping it, but they still find it’s a good place to go when they just need to get away and talk.

“You’re not really thinking of going to that stuffy old school, are you?” Stan asks as soon as Ford sits on the swing beside him. “They’ve gotta be crazy if they think four more years of essays and exams are better lookin’ than tanned babes and gold chains. We’re so close to finishing up the Stan-O-War. Soon as graduation rolls around we’re outta here, just like we always promised”.

Ford chuckles. “That is a nice thought, but…” he pulls the brochure out of his pocket again, and unfolds it for Stan to see. “You have to understand that I can’t just pass up an opportunity like this. Maybe I don’t need a degree from any old state school, but this is West Coast Tech we’re talking about!” he beams, the stars returning to his eyes. “They’ve got cutting edge technology and multidimensional paradigm theory”

Stan rolls his eyes, but he can’t help but admit to himself it’s nice to have his brother back again after an entire day of radio silence.

“Beep boop, giant nerd robot oncoming” Stan punches Ford in the arm.

Ford’s grin only widens. “I figured you’d say that, but it’s too late to change my mind. The head of admissions already flew in this morning, and with my go-ahead they’re going to check out my science fair project later tonight and let me know then and there if they want me at their school”

“Well that seems kind of harsh” Stan quips. “What if they say no?”

Ford shrugs. “Well, then it’s like you said. If they don’t want me, you and I sail off on the Stan-O War and never look back”.

Stan frowns at the strong emphasis on if. He really thinks he’s going to get this, doesn’t he? Stan can’t exactly blame him when he’s been the reigning valedictorian of their class every year since they were kids.

“And if they say yes?”

Ford grins. “Well, then you better visit me on the other side of the country” he punches Stan in the shoulder, and stands to his feet without saying another word.

Stan can’t bring himself to join him. He knows that Ford didn’t mean anything by it, but he can’t help feel wounded by his brother’s implication that while he’s off in California having the time of his life, Stan’s still gonna be stuck living with their parents in New Jersey.

It’s just like their principal said. He’ll never amount to anything anyway, so why wouldn’t he stay in New Jersey? Where else would a worthless piece of shit like him end up?

Stan shifts on his swing and watches as Ford walks away, and he can’t help but wonder just how much of the principal’s tangent that Ford believed.

All of it?

Some of it?

Had Ford even been listening to what he said at all?

As he continues to watch his brother walk away, he can’t help the feeling in his gut that he has to know. He hates to start any unnecessary conflict, especially when there’s a very real chance that Ford will be moving to California next year, but Stan knows deep down that if they don’t talk about this now then he’ll never have the courage to bring it up again.

“Wait,” Stan shouts to Ford, and he stops dead in his tracks.

“Yeah?” Ford says, turning around to face him. Stan suddenly finds himself very aware of his heart loudly pounding against his chest, but he forces himself to squash that down. He’s never felt shy or anxious about asking his brother anything, and he sure as hell isn’t letting that start now.

“You don’t…uh,” he swallows. “You don’t think I’m…worthless, do you?”

Ford looks appalled. He neatly folds the brochure back into his pocket and starts walking- no, jogging, almost sprinting back to the swing set. He pauses in front of the empty swing beside Stan for a moment, like he’s debating whether he should sit down or not, but eventually he shakes his head and sits down anyway.

“What on earth makes you say that?”  There’s a hint of anger to his tone, but Stan’s not entirely convinced it’s directed at him. “Why would I think you’re worthless? You’re my twin brother! What could’ve possibly put the idea in your head that I thought that?”

There’s a tiny voice in the back of his head screaming at him to back out, brush it off with a joke and have this conversation later, but there’s an even louder voice shouting at him that it needs to be had now.

Stan sighs. “I…overheard everything in the principal’s office today”

Ford blinks, like he doesn’t understand a word that Stan just said. “About…West Coast Tech? Is this because you’re afraid that I’ll get in, but you know you won’t because you’re not even interested in applying anyway, but you know you’re going to miss me, and you’re not sure if you can handle-”

“About me, Sixer!” Stan shouts, and tries his damn hardest to ignore the waver in his voice. “He practically called me a useless piece of shit directly to Ma and Pa and neither of them said a word about it!” He scrubs his hands down his face because he’s not choking up, not over something so pointless and stupid. “You’re going to travel the world and become the smartest person the scientific community has ever seen, or whatever, but me? Apparently I’ll always be stuck here in New Jersey to pick up after everyone else’s messes, because that’s all I’m ever good for”

Stan buries his face in his hands. He hadn’t meant to blow up, and he certainly hadn’t meant to direct his anger at Ford, but he just feels so hopeless, and he’s the only one around who’s willing to listen. He wouldn’t be surprised if Ford returned with anger of his own, or told him off for being selfish, or even if he just decided to stand up and walk away from him for being such an embarrassment.

The silence that follows is thick and heavy. Stan is so convinced that he must’ve driven Ford away that when he feels a hand on his shoulder he nearly jumps a mile out of his skin. When he finally pulls his hands out of his face to meet Ford’s eyes, his face is flushed pink and he looks…embarrassed.

“Stan, I had no idea, I…” he awkwardly pulls his hand away and grips tightly to the chain of his swing. Stan can see Ford’s face shifting through about a dozen different emotions at once. “I…must’ve been too focused on everything else to realize he was saying those things about you.” He shakes his head. “I know it’s not an excuse, but…” he sighs. “I’m sorry”

There’s another bout of silence between them. Stan’s half-expecting that to be the end of it, and for Ford to walk away without another word.  

But Ford breaks the silence with a sigh, and when Stan glances over at him he’s staring down at the ground.

“If it’s any consolation...you’re much smarter than me in a lot more places than you realize”

Okay, now Stan has to laugh. “Okay, now you’re being too nice to me. You don’t need to lie to make me feel better”

“I’m serious!” Ford’s cheeks flush pink again, and he adjusts his glasses before returning his gaze towards Stan. “There’s actually been a fascinating number of studies about intelligence lately, and, well…” Ford’s face is turning redder by the minute, Stan swears. “It turns out that…there’s more than one type”

Stan raises an eyebrow. “You’re losing me here, Sixer”

“Well, you see, I thrive in academic intelligence. Math, science, history, you know, school stuff. That’s the most commonly known type of intelligence because a lot of our formative years are based on it”

Stan doesn’t say anything, just raises his eyebrow even further.

“But,” Ford continues quickly, “They’ve also made discoveries about the existence of social intelligence”

“Social?” Stan blinks, suddenly finding himself significantly more interested. “You mean like talking to people and stuff?”

Ford nods. “Precisely. They say people with high social intelligence are much better at picking up on social cues, and can make friends with others much easier than those with lower social intelligence.” Ford kicks at the sand. “The reason social intelligence hasn’t been recognized is because it’s often mistaken for having a friendly personality”.  His face flushes pink again, like he’s afraid he said the wrong thing. “Not that a person can’t have both, but…”

Stan smirks, nudging at Ford with his elbow. “Stanford Pines, are you calling your good-for-nothing brother intelligent?” He teases, but can’t help the genuine smile creeping to his face.

“Think about it!” Ford throws an arm into the air, the other one tightly gripped on the swing to prevent himself from falling off. “Every time Ma and Pa leave us in charge of the shop so they can go to Atlantic City for the weekend, who’s the one bringing in all the customers? Who’s the one selling out our daily stock less than two hours after we’re open? You are, Stan, just by being yourself. You know how to persuade people into buying our stock at ten times the listed price.”

“You can’t learn that from twelve years of public school. They can try to teach you, but at the end of the day it’s all about your ability to connect with people” Ford rubs at his arm. “I’ve tried teaching myself those kinds of tricks for years, but at the end of the day…” he shakes his head. “I’ve never been able to catch up.” He smiles. “I raise my white flag to you, Stan. You’ve outsmarted the smartest brother in the world”

Stan chuckles. “Try telling that to Principal Comb-over. He hears you saying the so-called dumbest clown in the entire school system is smarter than you and he’s going to cart you away to the loony bin”

Ford laughs. “You know, now that I think about it, there may actually be a way to tell him off for what he said about you and get away with it scott-free”

Stan raises an eyebrow. “Yeah? How so?”

Ford smirks. “I think you should try to graduate out of spite”

Stan’s not sure he follows. “Whaddya mean?”

“I mean, think about it” Ford stands from his swing and begins to pace back and forth. “The principal called both of us down even though he only wanted to speak to me, and then he talked shit about you even though he knew you were sitting right outside his door?” he pauses in his pacing. “Stan, he knew that you could hear him. Maybe he didn’t intend for you to listen in when he was talking to Ma and Pa about my scholarship opportunity, but he knew you’d be listening the moment you were brought up in the conversation”

That’s…true. Stan was just about to sneak out before he heard them say his name.

“He’s expecting you to fail, and he wants to put it in everyone else’s head too. He thinks it’s the easy way out, because if you choose to fail out on your own than he doesn’t have to take responsibility for being such a shitty educator. It gives him the chance to say look how he didn’t even try instead of look at how we failed him.”

“But if you proved him wrong? Imagine the look on his face when he has to be the one to place that diploma in your hand. Imagine him having to look you dead in the eyes and tell you he’s proud of you. You’ll know he’s speaking bullshit, but he knows he can’t talk shit about you anymore without making himself look bad.” Ford smirks. “Matter of fact, imagine the looks on the faces of everyone who’s ever doubted you walking across that stage. Pa alone is gonna have a heart attack”

Ford’s smile softens. “I already know that you’re much smarter than you’re given credit for, and I think it’s about time that everyone else recognizes that too”.

Stan’s cheeks burn red, and he shyly kicks at the sand. “Heh, thanks. I appreciate it.” He says. “But even if I did manage to graduate, what am I supposed to do with a high school diploma? Every job application I’ve been skinning through recently says college, college, college”

“Well…” Ford taps at his chin. “Then why not go out for college?”

Okay, now he’s taking things too far.

“Pardon?” Stan mocks, because if Ford thinks that Stan’s going to willingly take four more years of classes than maybe he should be carted away to a loony bin.

“I’m serious!” Ford blushes. “Maybe not a high intensity school like West Coast Tech, but college is so much more freeing than high school, Stanley. It’s not class after class on subjects that other people tell you to take. It’s personalized. If you hate science class so much, you never have to take another science class again”

Ford’s blush darkens. “I know that school is a big drag and all, but if you asked me?” he averts his gaze. “I think you’d really benefit from business school. Charisma and social intelligence is the number one thing that big name businesses are looking for, and I know you’re filled to the brim with both. Ultimately it is your decision, but…” Ford fiddles with his thumbs. “Just…just consider it, okay?”

For a brief moment, Stan just wants to burst out into hysterical laughter. Ford’s been offered the opportunity of a lifetime at one of the best schools in the country, and he’s still taking the time to help out his good-for-nothing brother who’s been cheating off of his exams for the past ten years.

Instead he settles for a roll of his eyes. “Alright, Professor Poindexter, I’ll consider it”

Ford giggles at that, and for a few moments neither of them says anything, watching the waves gently lapping on the beach in the short distance. It’s a comfortable silence, a reassuring sort of feeling that Stan hasn’t felt in a long time.

The frantic beeping of Pa’s wristwatch interrupts them, and both boys flinch at the sound in unison. For a moment Stan is worried that Pa’s standing behind them having heard every word, but when he glances over at Ford, he sees him rolling up his shirt sleeve to reveal that he’s the one wearing the watch, and clicks the alarm off.

“Pa made me borrow it so I wouldn’t be late for the presentation with the school board” he rubs awkwardly at the back of his head. “I’ll probably give it back as soon as I get home tonight”

Stan smirks. “You still hate the sound of that thing too, huh?”

“I can still hear it in my nightmares,” Ford exaggerates, his eyes going wide, and the twins burst into laughter as they both stand from the swings and stretch their arms and legs to wake them up from sitting for so long.

Ford wipes at his eye as he fidgets with the wristwatch. “So…do you think you’re going to be okay?”

That in itself is a pretty loaded question that could take him all night to answer, but all things considering…

“Yeah,” Stan smiles. “I think I’ll be okay”

Ford smiles back, and gestures with his thumb towards the direction of the pawn shop. “Then I’m going to head home and get ready for my presentation. You coming?”

Stan shakes his head. “I think I’ll stay out here and just…watch the ocean for a little while longer”

Ford’s smile softens, but he doesn’t say anything else. He turns heel and walks back towards the house, and it feels as though a giant weight has just been lifted off of Stan’s chest. He glances back to watch Ford go, but finds comfort in the feeling that he feels nothing at all.

~~~

Nearly five hours later, Stan sits at home, watching television on the couch to pass the time. Just out of the corner of his eye he sees Ford slip into the kitchen and gently click the door closed. Stan shuts the TV off, and spins around on the couch to face his brother.

“Well?” Stan asks, though he knows he doesn’t even need to bother asking, given that Ford looks like he’s about to burst. With a shaking hand, Ford reaches into his pocket and pulls out a glinting white envelope.

If he’s trying to keep an air of mystery about it, he’s doing a really bad job, because all at once his composure breaks and the smile that spreads across his face looks as though it could burn out the sun.

“They loved me!” He shouts, excitedly pacing the floor. “They told me they’ve never seen anyone else like me!”

His smile is so contagious that it hurts.

Perhaps another day, in another timeline, Stan would take offense to Ford’s excitement to bounce off to the other end of the country without him. Perhaps he’d even lash out, or do something he would’ve immediately regretted.

But here and now, Stan couldn’t be happier for his brother if he tried.

#my writing #gravity falls #stan twins #stan pines #ford pines

[cienie-isengardu]

There is one thing that you mention a lot and it is Bi-Han's lack of social skills and well I do not agree at all, that is, Bi-Han as with Sektor is quite introverted but I do believe that the Lin kuei taught them social skills to be able to infiltrate them among the people during missions. Bi-Han I think he has manners and social skills but he doesn't hide when he doesn't like someone. He was sarcastic with Quan chi but at no time did he insult him or refuse to do his job

I do not have any doubt that Bi-Han’s speech patterns depend on whom he is interacting (x) but as much as honesty and straightforwardness are in itself valuable traits, frankness is not always an acceptable choice to rely on. Having social skills helps to navigate how to behave and talk to different people to not overstep or break generally accepted norms and in result, to build a healthy relationship, or in case of living in a strict warrior society, to not get in trouble. Bi-Han for me lacks in this department, especially in mentioned interaction with Quan Chi, because he was not on equal ground with the sorcerer yet had this borderline challenging attitude. And most likely yes, some of the rudeness came from not liking nor respecting the suspicious guy that already proved to be some insidious bastard for hiring another man for the same job. But the thing is, he wasn’t there to question a lucrative customer that was personally approved by the Grandmaster and he should keep his accusations and rude remarks to himself, not throw it into the sorcerer's face just like that.

I mean, as much as dark and evil Lin Kuei are, customer service is a vital part of the earning money process. Bi-Han wasn’t there as equal to Grandmaster (the superior whom he swore to obey) nor Quan Chi (approved client). Between these three characters, Sub-Zero was just a tool to finish an already made transaction, no one was interested in what he thought or felt at that moment. As much as the accusation to some degree may be forgiven, since Quan Chi openly antagonized Sub-Zero by calling Lin Kuei the ninja (an intended insult) and admitted to hiring Shiray Ryu (the enemy of Lin Kuei), he shouldn’t be so aggressive nor so open. It toned down once Grandmaster stopped their argument. Even then, Bi-Han could - should - ask about the mission in a more polite or at least neutral way, instead of “If it's so precious, why don't you get it yourself?”, since his superior made it clear Sub-Zero is gonna do another job for the client (“Now you will use the map on your next mission. Quan Chi has once again retained your services”).

The whole situation feel to me like Grandmaster promised Quan Chi the best man for the job but said man had this “fuck you” attitude from the start. Sub-Zero represented Lin Kuei but instead of the professional and obedient subordinate of Grandmaster there was an abrasive warrior who called Quan Chi on his lies and backed down only because his boss had enough of his attitude and the pointless argument. Not the best social awareness if you ask me.

Bi-Han wasn’t any more polite to Raiden (“That's it? Not even a thank you?”) and either deliberately provoked Scorpion during the Tournament or he was simply brutally honest about not caring about Shirai Ryu’s fate. Which, considering what he knew about the massacre, Scorpion’s obsession about him and just heard Hanzo’s promise to not kill him, he was stubbornly arrogant or really lacked empathy or good understanding of emotional impact his words may have on his sworn enemy. Considering how Bi-Han is described as “the most cunning” above all, we know he is pretty intelligent. But his harsh, abrasive, often confrontational behaviour makes me think he is good with cold logic, not exactly with empathy and because of that, he is not always reading the situation well and may “forget his place” when dealing with people he does not respect or care about or outright provoke them in the worst way. The whole argument with Quan Chi in the first place shouldn’t even happen because really, it wouldn’t be the first time an outsider (client) didn't care about the assassin's life and saw him as just a tool. Grandmaster himself wasn’t bothered nor surprised by Quan Chi’s deal with Shirai Ryu and so Bi-Han’s outburst is even more out of place in my opinion.

How much of this is Bi-Han’s intention to be a rude bastard and how much came from limited social skills (and maybe from introverted nature?) is of course up to debate. But to be fair, all cryomancers have this cheeky and passive-aggressive attitude in common (Frost for example seems like being constantly angry at everyone and doesn’t hold her sharp tongue, younger Kuai Liang literally disturbed Mortal Kombat last Tournament and told Shao Kahn to give him murderer of brother, Conquest!Sub-Zero was no less stubborn and asocial). I do see cryomancers in general as the asocial, aromantic & asexual (maybe even autistic to some degree?) people whose natural coldness may have handicapped sense of social norms and the fact that they are trained killers (thus have empathy dulled even more) don’t help at all.

At the same time, I strongly believe that not every warrior was constantly or even often working undercover and Lin Kuei used its members adequately to their skills. Some are better at spying (thus are better at interacting with people to get the needed information), some are better killers (whose interaction with people doesn't matter as long as the job is finished). There is not enough source material to say for sure what was Bi-Han’s specialization but Mythologies: Sub-Zero strongly suggest is was actually assassination and theft, as we were told by Grandmaster (“Once again, our most cunning assassin and thief is successful.”). The known jobs he did involved breaking into heavily guarded places (Shaolin Temple, Temple of Elements) to steal artifacts and killing people on the way. There was no need for Bi-Han to have any social skills nor during the Mortal Kombat Tournament, when he was hired exactly to eliminate (kill) Earthrealm’s Champions. Of course, this is barely the tip of the iceberg, more or less the last year of Bi-Han’s life, but if he truly was one of the clan's best, sending him on long-term undercover missions could be a waste of an opportunity for profitable earnings. I mean, stealing and killing are usually short-termed jobs, the “go in and get out” as fast as possible to not leave any trace behind. Those jobs of course also take time for proper preparation but because of its specific nature, a warrior can be sent from one place to another almost immediately, especially if the lucrative customer (like Shang Tsung or Quan Chi) needs to solve an urgent problems quickly. The game and movies are separated sources, but Mortal Kombat (2021) seems too put Bi-Han mainly on the assassination jobs or staying at Shang Tsung’s side than anything truly involding good understanding of social ettiquete; beside the sorcerer, Bi-Han did not interact much with other people, even with his own allies. Then there is the possibility that Bi-Han could work ultimately more in lawless, wild Outworld than modern Earthrealm which also would affect his behaviour and sense of social norms.

I believe Bi-Han took some undercover missions, but I see him more like operating in the city to do some quick dirty jobs and moving to another target than staying in one place for months while playing “normal” human being. That way he was more useful to clan by earning good money in short period of time and maybe correcting faults of other warriors (supervising them) or killing Shirai Ruy / enemy’s agents along the way. He probably could fit into society for a specified period of time if that was absolutely necessary but I don’t think it happened often. And even then, he most likely kept to himself because Bi-Han is introverted by nature.

At the end of day, the coldness and social detachment was a useful trait for a killer and murdering was most likely Sub-Zero’s expertise so forcing him to spend months on anything else seems to me like wasting both his potential and good job offers. So the Grandmaster (Lin Kuei) could tolerate Sub-Zero’s natural frankness because his social skills weren’t ever the priority.

Bi-Han’s abrasive ways to communicate with others, lack of empathy, the visible isolating himself leads me to think he lacks social skills (and maybe even could fit somewhere on autistic spectrum). At this point of time, I think cryomancers in general are dense when it comes to social norms and interacting with people and I don’t mean it as they are stupid or unable to learn. They just have different (mental?) mindset about such things than other people, even other Lin Kuei warriors. Of course, it is just my take on the matter so anyone can disagree : )

(Ironically, I have the impression that Sektor would do better in long-term undercover work than Bi-Han but he is hardly better at pretending to be a normal human being. The difference is that he is the quiet type easy to overlook while anyone not familiar with Bi-Han's specific behaviour will see him as the rude bastard.)

#mortal kombat #my replies #bi han #sub zero #sektor #lin kuei #cryomancers #are in my mind the asocial aromantic asexual group that has zero social skills #which is why they seems to be the angry rude bastards with no will to change in that matter #you can rip this headcanon #from my cold dead hands #also lately more and more i wonder if Bi-Han (and Sektor for that matter) is not autistic to some degree #with the visible isolating himself and bad communication skills #ramblings #anyway i think there is not enough sources to tell for sure if bi han is just a rude bastard or just bad at talking to other people