#LIKE THAT IS SO DEEPLY IN CHARACTER RIP TO WHOEVER HATED IT OR WHATEVER BUT THATS LITERALLY MY BOY | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

daenqyu · 3 years

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promise me | bakugou katsuki

( gif isn’t mine !! credits go to @birds-have-teeth )

pairing: bakugou x fem!reader

genre: angsty fluff

summary: you’re used to dealing with your problems all on your own, but sometimes the weight becomes too heavy. and just when you feel like you’re about to fall, bakugou is always there to steady you back on your feet.

warnings: suicidal thoughts, descriptions of a panic attack, dark thoughts in general

word count: 3.2k

a/n: at first i wasn’t gonna post this because it was more of a comfort fic for me since i’ve been struggling a lot recently and bakugou is my comfort character, but i thought this could make other people feel better too so yeah :)

small disclaimer: this is completely based on my OWN, PERSONAL experience !!!!! if you ever experience suicidal thoughts, please seek help; you’re not alone. and you’re loved. you’re worth it.

IT was too much. you couldn’t handle it. you thought you could and that’s why you decided to not tell anyone, especially not bakugou. he knew about your struggles and burdens; at some point in your relationship you decided you felt comfortable enough to share that part of yourself with him and even tho he couldn’t really understand all of your emotions, he was still very supportive. but of course that didn’t mean you told him everything. sure, you trusted him with your life and you knew he would never judge you, but that wasn’t enough to make the voices in your head go away.

for a while everything seemed to be fine, you had managed to keep yourself distracted enough to not have to be alone with your thoughts. whether it was hanging out with friends, going on dates with bakugou, or watching tv shows, you were always busy with something. but there’s only so much one can do to stop themselves from thinking, or in your case, overthinking.

the nights were the worst. normally you’d watch random videos until your eyes started hurting from the brightness of you phone and then go to bed, but there were times when even that wasn’t enough. when not even heavy metal songs could be as loud as your dark thoughts, and they only seemed to intensify the more you tried to push them away. you tossed and turned on bed in hopes of eventually tiring yourself out, yet you ended up sitting on the mattress with hot tears streaming down your cheeks as you tried your best to catch your breathing.

all the emotions you suppressed for months now suddenly came crashing down on you, forcing you to face your inner demons and making you realize just how not okay you were. you couldn’t quite pinpoint what was bothering you so much; it was everything, yet nothing at the same time. it was about you, but also everyone else in your life. it was about not knowing who you were, about losing yourself and not really knowing what you were doing with your life. it was about thinking you were a failure, yet better than most people. it was confusing. and it was eating you alive.

your hands tugged at your hair so tight a part of you was afraid you were gonna rip it off and your chin rested on your knees as you brought them up to your chest in a feeble attempt to hug yourself.

this always happens. stop making such a big deal about it. why are you even crying? you’re so ungrateful. such an attention seeker. completely pathetic. why is bakugou even dating you? he might as well leave you for someone better. prettier. smarter.

loud sobs left your mouth as your thoughts mentally destroyed you, your insecurities getting the best of you. but it was more than that. this wasn’t just about not feeling good enough or thinking you didn’t deserve your boyfriend. it was about thinking you would be better off. after all you were just a bother, right? you would be doing everyone a favor if you just fucking did it, but you couldn’t. you wouldn’t. because you were scared. because you were a coward.

at some point it became too much, you could barely even breathe and your chest was hurting, or maybe it was your heart, along with your head, which’s pounding had become almost unbearable. your eyes burned from all the crying and you could feel the puffiness beginning to form around them. with trembling hands and blurry vision, you took your phone in your hands and dialed the only person you knew was capable of helping you in a situation like this.

the blonde haired boy groaned when he heard his phone ringing from the nightstand next to his bed. he rubbed his eyes before mentally insulting whoever was calling him so fucking late at night, but just as he was about to start screaming onto the phone’s speaker, he saw your name flash across the screen and his whole expression changed in less that a second. because you were his exception to everything.

“y/n? do you know what fucking time it is? this better be-�� he didn’t get to finish his sentence when a sob coming from your end interrupted him. suddenly he was up and about, his eyes widening as he sat on his bed, all the sleepiness he felt moments ago disappearing at the heartbreaking sound. “are you- are you crying?”

“k-katsuki,” he cringed, hating the way your voice sounded so broken and not like your usual self. and while he didn’t know what was going on exactly, he had a pretty good idea.

“i’m here,” he tried to assure you, but he hated how your sobs only got louder after that. “what happened? are you okay?”

“no. it’s bad,” you couldn’t bring yourself to lie to him, not when you needed him the most. “i’m s-sorry for calling you so late, i-”

“you don’t have to apologize. i wasn’t that tired anyways,” he bit his lower lip, debating on what he should do next. “do you want me to come over?”

“yes,” you didn’t even hesitate; it almost sounded like you were begging and bakugou could feel his breath hitching in his throat for a moment. “please, i need you.” that was all he needed to hear before he hung up, throwing the phone on his desk as he hurriedly put on whatever shirt he had laying around, not bothering to put shoes on. he didn’t have time to think about some stupid footwear. he stumbled while running towards your dorm room, not giving a fuck about how loud his steps were or if he could wake up his classmates.

much to his luck, your room wasn’t that far away from his so he got there in less than two minutes. he could feel his heart hammering against his chest as his hand gripped the door’s knob, but he didn’t waste any time before turning it around and letting himself inside. the sight before his eyes made something inside bakugou break. you were sitting down on the floor with your knees up to your chest, hands clutching your head tightly as choked sobs kept leaving your mouth. and he hated it. he hated it because he knew exactly how you felt; the same way he felt every night when he was alone in the confines of his room and his thoughts were the only thing keeping him company.

you hadn’t noticed him, too focused on trying not to pass out, so he made his way over to you slowly in order to not startle you. he kneeled down in front of you, quickly recalling the website he had read a few days ago that talked about what to do when a person was having a panic attack. his hand gently touched your shoulder, careful not to scare you, and while you still flinched at the sudden touch, your expression somewhat softened after seeing it was none other than your boyfriend.

“hey beautiful,” he smiled softly at you, or at least tried his best since all he wanted to do was scream and fight someone. because you didn’t deserve this. someone as kind as you didn’t deserve to go through all this shit. “can you hear me?” you nodded, tears still running down your cheeks and your whole body trembling. “good, now let’s take a few deep breaths,” he inhaled deeply before exhaling, wanting you to repeat his actions and you tried. your hands stopped gripping your scalp, instead opting for bakugou’s arms, which were at each side of you as they held onto your shoulders. “you’re doing great, just focus on me okay? only me.” you nodded once again, still trying to ease your breathing pattern as you stared into his beautiful vermilion eyes, the ones that always managed to intimidate you (in a good way of course).

after a few more minutes of breathing exercises, you managed to stop the pants that came out of your mouth, but tears still ran down your cheeks as the thoughts never ceased, perhaps getting louder and louder with every passing second. you wanted nothing more than to close your eyes and curl yourself into a ball, but you knew that wasn’t gonna solve anything. so you kept holding on to your boyfriend’s arms, as if he was the only thing holding you down to earth.

this better fucking work, bakugou thought to himself before he spoke up again, “y/n, can you tell me five things you can see?”

“you,” talking was still hard, yet you forced yourself to look around the room and answer his question correctly. “my p-phone, the desk, d-dirty laundry, and,” all this thinking made the pounding in your head worse, but at least you weren’t focusing on the voices. “my stuffed t-teddy bear.”

“hm, four things you can touch?” one of his hands tenderly gripped your shoulder, his eyes never leaving yours.

“y-you, your shirt, the c-carpet, and m-my pj’s.” the dizziness in your head started to come to a halt and you sniffled, thankful that bakugou was able to make things better. like always.

“that’s it, you’re doing so well. now three things you can hear?” his head turned around to leave an innocent kiss on the skin of your forearm, his gaze still focused on your face.

“your voice, t-the rain, and the air conditioner.” the feeling of bakugou’s lips made you come back to your senses slowly but surely. now your hands were the only thing trembling, not your whole body.

“you’re almost there baby, two things you can smell?”

“my diffuser and your perfume,” a small smile made its way to your lips as you breathed in his scent, letting out a pleasant sigh as the smell filled your nostrils. “caramel.”

bakugou scoffed, a soft blush splashed across his cheeks as he looked away from you for a moment.

“one thing you can taste?”

you took in a deep breath, not really knowing what to answer until you licked your lips and tasted the familiar sweetness of your chapstick, “cherry.” your grip on bakugou’s arm loosened, but still lingered there. he let out a breath he didn’t know he’d been holding in, feeling a big weight off his shoulders knowing you could breathe properly again, but he was still bothered by the situation.

“dumbass, don’t ever scare me like that again.” his words were rather rough yet you knew he meant no harm, you knew he was genuinely scared for your well being and that was just his way of voicing out his concern.

“i’m sorry.”

“what did i tell you about apologizing all the damn time?” he groaned, letting his arms fall to his sides as your hands came up to wipe your remaining tears away. you sent him an apologetic smile before sighing, squeezing your eyes shut as you tried to wrap your head around everything that happened.

meanwhile, bakugou stared intently at you, wondering whether or nor he should ask what caused the sudden outburst. he didn’t want to make you feel worse, but if he knew you like he thought he did (which he does), you’d probably end up bottling everything inside until you had another breakdown. and he’ll be damned if he ever let’s that happen again.

silently, he crawled towards you. and once he was close enough, he positioned himself behind you so you could sit on his lap and you happily complied. you cuddled your face against his warm chest, enjoying the comfort it provided, and bakugou placed his chin on top of your head, keeping you close to him. you stayed like that for a few minutes, just basking in each other’s presence, but in reality bakugou was just giving you some more time to calm down before pestering you with questions that could possibly overwhelm you.

“you want to talk about it?” he was still keeping his tone low and gentle; anyone who heard him would’ve been extremely confused by his sudden change in demeanor. because he could be a lot of things, but gentle was not one of them. then again, you were his exception. you were different.

“i...don’t know,” your hands played with the hem of his black tank top, eyebrows furrowed together as you tried to find the right words to describe your internal turmoil. “it’s just...everything piling up and never knowing what to do,” bakugou leaned down to place a kiss on your temple, quietly letting you know that he wasn’t going anywhere, and somehow, that made you want to cry all over again. “you know when you get really tired of yourself and your life?” he hesitantly nodded, not knowing where you were going with this. “well i feel like that everyday. a-and sometimes i think it would all be better if i disappeared.”

it took him approximately 5 seconds to get what you exactly meant by disappearing, but when he did boy was he mad. his eyebrows furrowed and his grip on you tightened, an annoyed, yet concerned expression evident on his face. how could you say that? you were his everything, the only one who could calm him down, the one who made him smile by just breathing; his light. he wouldn’t know what to do without you, hell he didn’t even want to imagine it.

“you’re such an idiot,” a smile tugged your lips at his harsh choice of words, the complete opposite of the hold he had on you. “you listen to me because you know how much i hate repeating myself,” one of his hands grabbed your chin softly, yet firmly as he tilted your head to make you look at him directly. “feeling like this is not your fault. i know that it’s easier to blame yourself for everything that goes wrong in your life, trust me, i know. but there are things in life that we just can’t control and most definitely aren’t responsible for.”

you scoffed, “well you’re one to talk.”

“tch, such a smartass, aren’t you?” bakugou rolled his eyes at your remark. “that’s exactly why i’m telling you all this, dumbass. because i don’t want you to go through what i did, especially when you have me by your side to help you.” your eyes widened at his sweet confession, gaze softening at the boy in front of you. he avoided it, looking to the side with rosy cheeks.

“katsuki…” you lowered your voice, lifting your hand to place it on bakugou’s cheek and your heart jumped when he looked at you. his eyes reflected nothing but pure love and adoration, and you were sure yours were the exact same. without saying another word, you kissed him softly, fingers caressing his soft skin. the kiss was short and innocent, but it made bakugou smile ever so slightly.

“let me finish,” he said once you pulled away and the determination in his voice made you nod, knowing he needed to say whatever was on his mind. “i know there’s nothing i can do to make your pain disappear or for you to change your mindset because that’s not how it works. but i am and will always be here for you. i don’t give a shit if you think you’re gonna bother me or if it’s late or if you think it’s something stupid, you just tell me. and if the thoughts continue then maybe we can even get a professional to help you, but please don’t give up on me.” the crack in his voice at the end of his sentence made your heart stutter.

both of your hands cradled bakugou’s face, your eyes desperately looking for his once again. when he finally looked at you, you saw the tears threatening to fall from his eyes and how hard he was trying to hold himself back from breaking down. he needed to be strong. he couldn’t be weak in front of you. you were the one who needed to be comforted, not him. so with those thoughts in mind, bakugou sniffled and roughly wiped the unshed tears away. but you didn’t move from your place.

“so promise me,” he pulled you impossibly close, your faces barely inches apart. “promise me you won’t give up, that you’ll fight and be stronger than your demons because you fucking are. you’re so much stronger than you think, shit you’re probably stronger than me!” your eyes widened, surprised he even said something like that, but knowing he 100% meant it. because bakugou didn’t lie. “promise me.”

you nodded multiple times, taking out your pinky to show him you were serious about this. and while bakugou thought you couldn’t be any more childish, he still grinned and interlaced his own pinky with yours, “i promise.”

“good, now let’s sleep because i’m tired as fuck.” you rolled your eyes at the sudden change in attitude.

“knew it was too good to be true.” he raised an eyebrow at your comment, standing up to lay down on your bed, the soft sheets welcoming him with your scent.

“the fuck is that supposed to mean?”

“nothing, let’s just sleep.” you sent him a smile before laying down next to him, his arms quickly wrapping themselves around your waist to pull you even closer.

you turned around in his hold to properly look at him. his head rested comfortably against the pillow, his hair messy and sticking up in all different directions, while his eyes lazily looked over at you. he looked angelic, ethereal even. without thinking it twice, you ran one of your hands through his hair, giggling when he let out a happy hum and gripped your hips, as if telling you to keep going. he looked so pretty, lips slightly pouty as he forced himself to stay awake for a little longer. at least until you fell asleep.

“wanna know something really cheesy?” he sounded tired and you felt bad for keeping him awake so late when he probably had a long day. nevertheless, you hummed and continued to comb your fingers through his hair. “you’re fucking amazing. absolutely mesmerizing,” bakugou opened his eyes to look at you better, a small smile tugging his lips upwards as he saw your flushed expression, trying to look away from him, but he didn’t let you. “i love you, y/n.”

he’s said it before, and you should be used to it by now, but it never fails to make you heat up and feel all fuzzy inside. bakugou looks so serious, because he wants you to know he truly means it, yet so soft at the same time and you know this isn’t easy for him. he doesn’t like showing his vulnerable side to people, thinking it makes him weak, so to have him open up to you and declare his love for you so openly makes you feel special. because you’re the only one who knows this side of him.

“i love you more, katsuki.” another genuine smile grazes bakugou’s lips after hearing you call him by his first name, your voice sweet like honey.

he presses a kiss on your forehead as he lets you snuggle up against him, “go to sleep, i’ll be here when you wake up.”

that night, you slept peacefully, knowing you’re safe in bakugou’s arms. you don’t know what tomorrow or any other day holds for you, but if you have him by your side, you know you can overcome anything.

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hswarm · 4 years

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My Experience With Simvicii, Oliveandoak & Their Discord

I’ve seen a lot of posts going around in regards to simvicii, oliveandoak, their discord and private channels. I felt now would be the best time to speak out about my experience with these things. I think it’s best that people have as much information as possible.

Disclaimer: I am not innocent to anything and neither is anyone else in that discord. We are all at fault for allowing simvicii and oliveandoak behave the way they did as well as enabling/aiding in their behaviors. This is partly why I left tumblr back in March because I realized I had become the same type of person as them and I was disgusted with myself. This does not exclude me from any blacklash/punishment but I recognize my mistakes and left to address them.

How We Met: Probably around November/December or earlier back in 2019 Simvicii had dm’d me asking for a sim, this was when they went by a different username. At the time I wasn’t giving sims away because poor experiences but I had just followed her blog and became a fan so I gave her one. She later gave me a sim in exchange as well. The sim I gave her is who everyone knows as Hollie Evans. (More on this later)

Joining The Discord: After exchanging sims I never talked to Simvicii again so when Oliveandoak dm’d me asking if I wanted to join their discord I was a bit surprised. But me being me and wanting to be apart of something I chose to join, probably in early January. Everything seemed pretty normal at first but within the first few weeks I noticed a good amount of gossip going on. The server was still small and hand picked individuals so I guess they didn’t have to worry quite yet. Everything started pretty small/mild but then once the private channel was made things escalated.

The Private Channel: I guess under the safety of the channel Simvicii and Oliveandoak felt more comfortable being their true selves. Admittedly, Simvicii didn’t say too many harsh things but Oliveandoak definitely did. I remember on multiple occasions she posted screenshots of her asks and mocked the senders. There were a few asks where they didn’t quite make sense, most likely result of poor english, and she would mock them saying ‘wtf does this mean/how am i supposed to read this’ and others of the like.

Most of the time we, we being the others in the channel, would just go along with what they said. I noticed a few of them didn’t actually participate in many of those types of conversations, probably because they knew it was wrong. I myself would simply go along or ignore them because whenever I had tried to call Oliveandoak out for being too rude, mocking people, or simply tried to defend whoever it was she would get very passive aggressive with me.

Some Of What Was Said: For the most part I don’t remember a lot of the actual words and phrases they used but I remember a few of the topics. I know on several occasions they mocked their followers/people who sent them asks. They mocked simblrs they didn’t like. I actually remember three very specific simblrs being brought up almost daily by either simvicii or oliveandoak. They also would complain about people asking them to include POC or LGBTQ+ sims.

About The POC/LGBTQ+ Topics: I wanted to expand on this specifically because Simvicii is very good with words and a lot of us in the discord kind of were persuaded to agree based on how she worded things. So, most of the time the conversation was about how simblr forces people to include POC/LGBTQ+ sims and Simvicii felt that it was wrong or whatever because there’s a lot of blogs doing already + why should they be forced to do something on their blog, or something of that nature.

Now, to a degree I agreed with her simply because me being apart of the LGBTQ+ community I really hate seeing straight people trying to portray us. It almost always ends up weird and cringey. I didn’t want to see another person making that type of content. I just didn’t. So, I agreed and told her I didn’t think she needed to be posting that because she can’t related and it’s better to not do something you’re not informed on. However, that does not mean she can’t have LGBTQ+ backstory characters.

I know recently there’s a post going around with a screenshot of her talking about how asians are normally excluded from the term POC, especially here on simblr, and I have to agree. However, that does not mean you do not exclude the rest of the POC community in retaliation. Now, I’m not saying this to be rude but even when Simvicii makes “asian” sims they still look an awful lot like their white sims because their sim style makes them all look fairly similar. So, even when she made asian sims you could barely tell. But making asian sims does not exclude you from making black, hispanic, latino, middle eastern, islander, etc sims. You don’t get to trade one for the others.

Same with Oliveandoak. She got asks about her lack of POC sims and she complained saying ‘I have POC sims!!’. It doesn’t count when they’re all extremely white passing. I even personally sent her a dark skinned sim to which she switched the content on and made her look several shades lighter. This is a problem. Aesthetic or not you still need to include dark skinned sims and other races.

Moving on.

Hollie Evans: So, back to the original topic of Hollie Evans. A lot of you who know who Simvicii know who this sim is. She was one of the main characters paired as Romeo’s bff/gf/whatever. Well, yes I actually made that sim. HOWEVER, Simvicii claims (after 2-3 months of use) that the Hollie we see today isn’t actually my Hollie but a replica she made herself.

She claims that she ‘remade’ Hollie and just ‘used the same presets and everything’. I’m sorry but that’s not true. If you took a side by side of the two sims you would see that the facial structures are identical and we all know even if you try to recreate someone else’s style using the exact same content it’s not going to be 100% identical, which Hollie to her core is identical.

The thing that bothers me and hurts me is that she went our whole friendship telling me it’s the sim I gave her and then when confronted claims it’s not that sim, when clearly it is she just wants out of the doghouse. She sent Hollie to people for collabs without saying anything to me. She changed all her custom content ‘to match her style’ and she no longer uses the ‘Hollie Evans by Honeyswarm’ tags. Which the tag thing only happened after I left tumblr.

I think it’s extremely rude and hurtful to ask someone for a sim and then change everything about them, claim them as yours and share them with other people. It’s simply not right and she knows it. She would constantly bring up a blogger who had forced her to give them her sims and then ripped her off. She knows what that feels like and she knows that’s wrong.

There’s probably a hell of a lot more I could talk about, like the three blogs they always mentioned, how they all but basically convinced the private channel to exclude someone in the discord, their lack of care/empathy towards other server members/myself, admitting to sending hate to people they disliked/disagreed with and just their general toxic behavior and manipulation but I think this post is long enough.

I don’t have “evidence” to everything here because I never thought I’d need it/be posting about it but considering everyone’s coming out I figured I would too. The only “evidence” I have is in relation to our conversation when she admitted she ripped my sim off. If you’d like those I can share them but otherwise that’s all I have.

I don’t know if this post will reach anyone or even mean anything but I felt like I needed to say these things and make it aware to others. It’s always best to have as much information as possible so that’s what I’m doing here. It’s really up to you to decide what you do with it.

I also want to apologize to everyone affected by the things Simvicii and Oliveandoak have said/done. I’m so sorry I allowed them to say and do the things they said and did. I’m so sorry I didn’t stick up for y’all better. I was afraid of losing ‘friends’ and I was afraid what might happen if I went against them. That doesn’t make it any better but please no I am so deeply sorry for everything said/done in that server that I either aided in or allowed to happen.

-Honeyswarm

#if you want to know more or have questions feel free to send them here #ill answer everything i can #simblr #simvicii #oliveandoak #sims4 #the sims 4 #ts4 #s4

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sunriseseance · 4 years

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If there was an episode in which the siblings exchange bodies, who would you like to play who?

Okay I cannot tell you how much thought I’ve put into this. I have an entire google doc of the reasons each one would be great, but I’m gonna give my favorite answers and then ask YOU (and anyone else??? Oh my God??? What YOU think). Also, in my head, this happened at a fancy lodge in the countryside and they have to try their best to act normal while figuring out why it happened, how to go back, and how to stop whatever they were there to stop in the first place.

Vanya in Luther’s body is just too funny for me to pass up. Luther is a foot and NINE inches taller than Vanya (Thopper wears lifts and is 6’5 at default). Poor Vanya is hitting this body on every single door she comes across. However, she can finally reach the top shelf to get her own mug. She also is used to being diminutive, and she is No Longer That. She absolutely will be ripping the door off of the fridge. And the car. Her having to deal with the physical strength that hurt her in s1 would also be narratively interesting. Tom Hopper playing Vanya also strikes me as DEEPLY funny because he is such a Jock and Vanya so, so is not.

As much as I don’t want to start a pattern, I think that Luther in Diego’s body would be sort of fun, because I imagine it’s the closest to the body he had Pre-Serum in that it is strong, and tallish, and broad. Diego would also throw a fit about Luther treating it well (I’m picturing a NOT ONE SCRATCH ON IT OR YOU’RE DEAD) moment. Also, Luther throws things a lot in season 1. Imagine him being able to do that with accuracy, but without really REMEMBERING that he can do that. Throwing a rock in frustration and, whoops, it hits whatever body the person frustrating him is in. That’s Not Fair! I also love this because I think so much that David is great at playing a sensitive idiot in the moments where Diego lets his anger fall, and I would love to see that always. Please imagine Diego’s face and voice saying “I’m just going to sit here, drink my beer, and get my buzz on.” Amazing.

I want Klaus in Allison’s body because I think he deserves a good power, but I also think he is one that would appreciate the nature of the power as a double-edged sword. I think he probably WOULD use the power, but I don’t know that he would use it as frivolously as some might think, and this would be a good time for him to prove himself as, like, competent and thoughtful. ALSO as much as I think the physical substance dependence would get left in his body, he still has an emotional dependence and him having to deal with being in a taken care of body that he loves and wants to keep taken care of? Oof. Also both he and Allison smoke, and it would be hard for him to, like, deal with her body wanting that I think. Emmy playing Klaus would be fun because she has this inherent kindness that I think she just OOZES, and Klaus is mean. She is also a good actress, so that inherent kindness would, I think, make Klaus’s meanness feel even more shocking and interesting. Also I want to see her walk like Klaus.

I would put Five in Klaus’s body, then, because Five got a REALLY REALLY good power and I think it would be interesting to see him saddled with a bad one. Suddenly, he’s in a body that cannot Just Leave, but it is one that is an adult. He also is used to alcohol dependence, and I think it would be interesting for him to not be able to escape that. Also him seeing ghosts is sort of cool given how many people he’s killed. And also he’s a fuuuuuuuucking terrible communicator so whoever is in Ben’s ghost body is gonna have to go through him. Yikes. I also chose this because I think Sheehan could fucking NAIL playing Five in Klaus’s body. He’s got weird intensity down to a science and he’s good at impersonations. Klaus body grabbing people by their lapels or threatening to stab them is also extremely funny.

Diego in Five’s body is amazing immediately because Diego would hate being a kid as much as Five does, if not more. He is the only other one, I think, who would lose his cool at being called a teen when he’s actually an adult. He also shares Five’s bizarre sense of paradoxical ego that makes him just like. Threaten to stab people. AND Diego having a really, really cool power would be interesting. Who is he when he can do stuff that isn’t Throw Shit? Also, does he still try to throw shit? Does he accidentally end up on the roof? We’ve seen that Five’s powers basically get turned off by his emotions, and Diego is AN EXTREMELY EMOTIONAL GUY so that would be very interesting to see play out, too. Diego does NOT have a substance dependence, and him having to deal with physical alcoholism would be interesting to me. Would he even know why he felt like shit? Or would Klaus-Allison have to tell him? Aidan could rock a tender bitter jerk, as we know.

Okay, sorry Allison, but I think putting you as Benthe ghost is the most interesting. Allison is used to being listened to, and looked at, and I think she has a complex relationship with both of these things. She is also used to having an extremely self-useful power that is completely under her control. Her suddenly being largely invisible would give her some peace, but also challenge her because it’s not just that she’s invisible to the camera, she’s invisible to everyone but Five. Fucking oof. And having Ben’s power means having something that isn’t under her complete control on top of having to go through Five. I think, also, that she is a deeply compassionate person and I think that spending time as a ghost would be interesting in that regard. Justin playing a kind character for a change would be funny, and especially one that walks with such grace and confidence.

Finally, Ben as Vanya. He gets a cool power, and a real human body, and it’s one that the others feel obligated to listen to lest it end the entire world. He can just say what he’s thinking, now, always and whenever. This is probably a mixed blessing when you’ve spent 13 years able to say whatever you’re thinking with little consequence. He also has a power that is All Him, but not all under control. I think that’s interesting for a dude used to gut tentacles. Ellen has proven that she can play snappy and also bookish, and that is Ben to a T.

These are mine, but I wanna hear yours! Or any funny body-swap scenarios any of you have!! My askbox would love to hear from anyone who wants to talk about this very fun idea???

Thank you for asking!!!

#The Umbrella Academy #tua spoilers #Luther hargreeves #diego hargreeves #Allison Hargreeves #klaus hargreeves #five hargreeves #ben hargreeves #vanya hargreeves #answered #body swap au #just in case???

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blaster-aichi · 3 years

Text

Cardfight!! Vanguard Extra Story IF 21 things

WHAT A GOOD FUCKING EPISODE

A running theme through the episode: whoever directed the visuals is a godsend.

Initially had wondered if the opening scenes within the first world were going to shine some light on the Tatsunagis’ past. Throwing the viewer into the deep end alongside Suiko was a clever decision, allowing us to feel her confusion all the more effectively.

Also the system for the girls’ ranger world is super-neat. Spin-off when?

Cards continuing their gimmick of being incredibly lethal.

The entirety of the fight with the Vanguard unit was spent thinking of the irony that it and Aichi share goals, so had a brain cell laughing at the suggestion the girls were simply on a filming set and he was the one in costume.

immediately after: Oh. Oh my fuck.

me: don’t do it. don’t do it. brain: Singularity F!

obligatory Long Live the King memeage

The claim that Kourin’ll search for a world Suiko likes smacks of irony given Suiko has her world she likes and has been fighting all along for it. It’s simply a world that Kourin approves of for Suiko to lose herself and how they handled it was stellar.

Just Miwa being cute. That is all.

Can someone inform Aichi that him getting into Vanguard has nothing to do with the Kais abandoning their son?

How dare you say such shit with such a sweet smile.

Curious how the Cardfight Club existed with four members (unless the other three were also signed up but simply not present). This world in particular is peculiar with its presumably aging up Rekka and the sisters not knowing one another to begin with. Not to mention how evidently distant Aichi is; the girls swear loyalty to him, but he minimizes his contact with them. Perhaps it’s to do with it being called the Cardfight Club but when he despises the game, have to wonder why he would choose that rather than anything else when the purpose was just to goof around.

Breaks through the door at a monument to Misaki’s existence.

Assuming she was roped into the surfing of worlds prior to Suiko, left to wonder how many worlds Rekka briefly lived in, and how many appealed to her, but she sacrificed to stay loyal to who she is, and just how difficult it must have been.

Thank you writers for giving SK4 Suiko and Rekka excellent names, rip Sanctuary Knight Ibuki.

Link Joker-hen noises in the distance.

I love this crew. That is all.

Whoever wrote this episode is also a godsend, thank you for giving the Tatsunagis some sisterly love.

Kourin: Aichi hates Vanguard. Also Kourin: [flips her shit at Suiko Riding “one of Aichi’s favourite units”].

I’M CRYING YOURE REFERENCING THE ORIGINAL ANIME? YOU DIRECTLY CONNECTED THE TWO CONTINUITIES ILY.

Rena continuing to lose her shit because this entire scene is so good and the girls’ contrasting feelings about Alfred, Vanguard, everything is so wonderfully portrayed. For bonus points; Suiko’s unit belonging to a clan that Aichi chose and stuck with whereas Kourin’s heralds from one he never played in the manga & reboot continuity and was forced onto him in the original.

Had been wondering for quite some time just how Kourin and Suiko remembered anything related to the Reboot anime, so them providing an answer is immensely appreciated.

Also still loving whoever storyboarded this episode. Also very much loving the touch of Suiko being in focus as she challenges Kourin on her choice while Aichi hovers out of focus in the background; with their respective positions in the season and in comparison to their Outside World lives as well as how Kourin risks to lose them, it’s incredible poignant.

"We move forward”. Rockets back to one of the best scenes in epi 7 that I love so much. The fact that Ibuki and Suiko are the ones to speak of the same sentiment is precious.

At the same time, turning the idea onto Kourin and Aichi, with the added visual of the latter, really brought it home. With OverDress’ new cast, our time with these characters is drawing to a close for a second time and with no guarantee we’ll see them again. It’s incredibly bittersweet, particularly when adding in how the Q4 voice actors showed how torn up they were during the live event shortly prior to G’s airing. We were incredibly lucky to get a second run with these characters, so as the audience carries on forward and part ways with them again, having this particular theme front and centre, we’re essentially in the same position as Kourin.

I love this crew. That is all.

As much as tried to discern the glitched figure, unless it’s whatever’s in/controlling/manipulating/whathaveyou Aichi (it doesn’t look human), a Deletor or something related to Brandt, couldn’t even try to guess, they did a good job of obscuring their identity.

IF 22 preview

Babie boy’s cheek looks bruised. Is he still getting bullied? Were you wandering around somewhere to prolong your mother being faced with another afterschool of being beaten up? My heart. He looks incredibly distrustful of Takuto compared to their previous first meetings.

Zooms in on that Akashic Record in Kourin’s hands. Zooms in on Aichi’s hand on his arm. Were you really beaten up? Point me to them! 9′^’9 — Alternatively, he looks uncomfortable, in the same vein as the photo of himself and Emi in their Miyaji uniforms from epi 7, perhaps Takuto's explaining the truth to him and Aichi just can't process such a world because he's weak and timid and simply doesn't have the strength to imagine it.

How can someone be so ominous without a visible expression? The Biggest Fear.

DID YOU RIP OUT YOURS AND KAI-KUN’S PAGE FROM THE AKASHIC RECORD AND THATS HOW NO-ONE CAN GET THERE?

The placement of the four cards is striking; one distanced from the other three. They may be representative of the Q4 members and how far Aichi has drifted as a result of IF’s premise. Though at the same time, even if unintentional, it could be reflective of the young Aichi, who saw Kai-kun, Ibuki and Miwa playing from afar, never closing the distance himself and allowing that space between them to remain.

I have many questions. First of all: is it next week yet?

SCREAMS IN PSYQUALIA. BUT ALSO. It looks darker compared to usual, particularly in the Reboot continuity. Maybe it’s a sign of it not being quite right? That darker huge reminds me of Leon’s Psyqualia during Asia Circuit, so the possibility springs to mind of Void (seeing as the original continuity has been drawn in directly now) or interference by Brandt. If it’s a shot from the explanation regarding what’s happened to him (INTENSE VIBRATING), it could be whatever worming its way in through his Psyqualia.

Akashic Record-related thoughts:

Suiko:

Suiko’s remembrance of handing Alfred to Aichi in the original continuity opens up a huge possibility that she’s aware of the Tatsunagi sisters’ pasts and fate of that timeline. Though the girls of that world themselves never found out about their missing memories, their counterparts may have learned the truth themselves.

Kourin:

Going along the same line of thought, it gives Kourin a much more sympathetic position in that she’s not only experienced losing her memories once, but learned it to be her fate in more than just this world. When threatened with the possibility of losing a treasured period of her life for a second time, coupled with it being apparently inescapable even in other worlds, it’s a hopeless position she’s been put in, so though her motives may be selfish, it’s difficult not to sympathize with her.

Also a curious thought; Kourin’s alternate worlds for Suiko. Using the Akashic Records to surf between them, there’s the possibility that these are all worlds that exist and continue as such without external interference; other worlds where Aichi hates Vanguard, where Ultra Rare exist in different forms. But Kourin also described her actions as “creating” new worlds, so that begs the question of if she’s nonchalantly creating and erasing entire timelines?

Aichi:

The scrap of paper from the preview could very well be the page detailing his and Kai-kun’s first meeting and whatever force is at work, the figure from the glitch, given the ability to keep the distortion locked by its possession of the page through Aichi. At the same time, it might also explain why deviating from IF World’s narrative had such a detrimental physical effect on Aichi or it could be a result of, being the Tatsunagis are the only ones we’ve seen truly handle the book, interfering with its writings without the authority to do so bit Aichi and he’s suffering the consequences of it.

Why go through all this and for someone he shouldn’t know in this timeline? After he (or rather the force inside of him that intervened when they tried to bring him around and lead him back to the correct worldline) handled Takuto and Kourin, Aichi was able to investigate the Akashic Records and see just how much damage was done to Kai-kun; in the Reboot continuity, in the original continuity, maybe even in continuities we've never known of; Psyqualia, Link Joker, Legion Mate, Neon Messiah, the PsyZombie arc — he’s learned of them and how much anguish they put someone incredibly dear to him through (and it need not be just him; Ren, Ibuki, Leon, the Ultra Rare girls, Chrono, the list goes on for how many people have been deeply hurt by being connected to the game). So to protect him, that’s why Aichi targeted and hated Vanguard, not something that’s been brewing for years, but something that exploded when keeping him in his IF existence was threatened, allowing for Emi’s insistence that he’s always been a nice boy hold true.

#Cardfight!! Vanguard #Cardfight!! Vanguard IF #cfv spoilers

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daysswithyou · 4 years

Text

Fallen Chapter 25: Done deal

previous / next

Characters: DAY6 Young K x OC (Rachel)

Warning!: Cursing and swearing

------

The moment Younghyun got the notification and saw the video – the first person he thought of was you. Not Ayeon whom he wanted to ruin, not about his reputation that’s been tarnished – but you.

You who must be hurting now because of him,

You who must be forced to relive your nasty breakup with Jaebeom,

You who must have lost all your faith in him.

And that last part scared him the most. He can’t lose you now, not when he’s grown to love you. You’ve made him feel safe, loved and cherished – and you deserved to feel the same way with someone that knew how to truly love you. Yet… he failed to give you that. Pushing his crippling thoughts to the back of his mind, Younghyun set off in search of you, dialling your number repeatedly only to be met with a voicemail message. He expected as much – you were probably too angry to hear him out. He tried dialling the entire team – those that picked up either did not know where you were, or he was sent straight to voicemail again. Younghyun was getting desperate, until he overheard conversation from Mr Kim as he was passing by the lobby.

“Rachel Hwang? Yes, that’s my student. She’s at the Sacred Hearts Hospital with Esther and Jae Park? Thank you, I will head over immediately to check on her and inform her guardian.”

Before Mr Kim turned to face Younghyun, Younghyun was already running towards the hospital. He remembered seeing it on the way to the resort, it’s not far from here… he’ll be able to reach you shortly. But how on earth did you end up in the hospital?

---

Younghyun burst through the doors of the hospital and bumped into a few people in the process, hastily throwing apologies over his shoulders as he earned a few scowls from the staff. He reached the front desk counter and slapped a hand on the counter for support as he gulped in large breaths of air. The sound startled the service staff behind the desk, and they raised their eyebrows at Younghyun for the poor impression that he’s made.

Straightening his back and looking into the eyes of the service staff – whom looked thoroughly pissed at him by the way – Younghyun finally got his question out.

“Rachel Hwang… I’m here to see her.”

“Patient confidentiality sir. Unless you can prove that you’re her family, I cannot give you this information.”

“I’m- I’m her boyfriend. I know the friends she came with, Jae Park and Esther. Mr Kim is my teacher.”

The service staff deemed that information enough to let Younghyun through.

“Level 2, room 208.”

“Thank you!”

Without even waiting for a reply from the service staff, Younghyun bounded up the steps two at a time, not even bothering to wait for the lift.

---

Jae left the room for a short while to get drinks for himself and Esther. Esther too had cried herself dry once Rachel was fast asleep and she needed to replenish the fluids lost. As he waited for the vending machine to finish dispensing the bottled water, Jae heard the sound of someone frantically climbing up the steps. He wondered who on earth was causing such a huge commotion in a hospital and when his head turned, the bottled water was forgotten as Jae rushed forward to stop Younghyun from entering the room. Younghyun didn’t see Jae coming – too focused on getting to you – and he only felt someone slam into him, and the impact sent him stumbling back a few feet. He was about to swear at whoever blocked him but the words promptly died in his throat when he realised that it was Jae.

“Jae, how is she? I’m going to see Rachel now, talk later.”

Younghyun attempted to move past Jae but Jae held him in place by the collar of his shirt. Jae’s eyes stared dead into Younghyun’s, his eyes looking like 2 bottomless pits.

“Jae, what are you doing? Let go of me, I need to see her now.”

“No. If you go in there now, Esther will beat you into a pulp and I will not save you.”

“I swear, it’s not what you think it is, which is why I have to explain myself.”

“Explain it to who? To fuming mad Esther that will no longer listen to you? Or an unconscious Rachel that cannot even hear you?”

“Rachel… is… unconscious?”

“Yes, it’s that bad. You better come with me and hide yourself, don’t let Esther see you. I’ve never seen her so angry in my life.”

With a hand still on Younghyun’s collar, Jae dragged Younghyun into a quiet stairwell, making sure that the door is shut tight before turning to Younghyun.

“Brian, what the hell was that video all about? Do you know how badly that affected Rachel? I never thought someone could look that… broken. We found her bloodied and bruised, and she literally cried herself unconscious due to the exhaustion. Do you know that you really… broke her heart?”

Younghyun’s heart clenched at Jae’s words – not only were you emotionally hurt, but physically ruined as well. Who hurt you? He caused you pain, but worse still, he could not protect you from the harm or ease your pain. His voice wavered when he tried to speak, but the words came out eventually.

“What happened to her? How did she get all bloodied and bruised?”

“We don’t know. She did not have enough energy to tell us before she passed out. That aside, you and Ayeon… are you really back… with her? After all that she’s done to you?”

Jae spat out Ayeon’s name like it was some vile venom, fearing what the younger would say next. If Younghyun was really back with Ayeon, Jae would first, whack the younger on the head and second, lose all faith in him forever.

“No, of course not. I’m never going back to Ayeon. That video was a mistake. I did it to protect Rachel. Ayeon threatened to buy over the café unless I gave her what she wanted… I couldn’t see Rachel’s hard work all go to waste so I agreed. But I swear nothing happened.”

“You two really did not…”

“No Jae, we didn’t. Almost, but no. I rather stab myself a thousand times over than commit to that act with her. Whatever you saw in that video was as far as we went. I didn’t even place my hands on her until she grabbed them and forced them upon herself. But I broke it off immediately because I felt too disgusted to carry on. I worried that Ayeon would really come for Rachel because I didn’t keep to the agreement. But I guess that really wasn’t her goal all along.”

“Clearly it wasn’t. She just needed the video to make her story convincing, and you sent yourself right into the tiger’s den. How stupid can you be? ”

“I know Jae, I know! I know I messed up and I feel stupid, but I was left with no choice. Berating me now isn’t going to help with damage control. But I swear Jae, you have to believe me. I’m really not back with Ayeon, and I have no intentions to.”

Jae sighed deeply before running a hand across his face.

“Brian, you don’t get it.”

“What am I missing?”

“This isn’t about me, it isn’t about you. It’s about you and Rachel, it’s about her, what the both of you have. It doesn’t matter if I believe you. She has to believe you and be the one to forgive you. If not…”

Jae doesn’t have to complete the sentence for Younghyun to know what he’s referring to.

“I understand.”

“Good. Leave and don’t come back. Don’t go back to Rachel until she asks to see you again. If you force her to see you, she’ll just hate you more.”

“But I need to – ”

“I’ll inform you when she’s awake and I’ll update you on her progress – just so you know that she’s alright. Don’t let Esther see you as well, I don’t know when her anger will subside.”

“Got it, thanks Jae…”

“Good, now leave Brian.”

Jae clapped Younghyun on the shoulder before returning to the room. Any longer and Esther might raise suspicions. Younghyun heard Jae greeting Mr Kim outside the stairwell as Jae led Mr Kim to the room. Meanwhile, Younghyun has got other business to attend to.

More specifically, someone.

---

Younghyun bade his time waiting for Ayeon outside her room, his eyes practically searing holes into her room. He smelt her sickeningly sweet perfume before he felt her hand on his shoulder. He had to fight the urge to shudder and rip her hands off him. This was thoroughly revolting.

Placing her lips by his ear, she whispered seductively: “Hey handsome.”

Ok that’s it. In one swift movement, Younghyun jerked his head away from her, now towering over her as he straightened his back.

“Phone.”

“You aren’t even going to greet me, Brian? Tsk, how rude.”

“I won’t ask twice.”

Without another word, Younghyun lunged for Ayeon’s phone that was currently resting in the palm of her hands and he got it with ease.

“What the hell Brian! Stop what you’re doing!”

Driven by sheer determination, Brian did what he came to do whilst ignoring all her advances and yells. Scrolling through her phone, Brian found the video with ease, and permanently deleted all traces of the video from her phone and the school app. But he wasn’t quite done yet.

“Why did you do that?”

“I want my phone back back first.”

“ANSWER THE DAMN QUESTION AYEON!”

Younghyun roared, certain that the entire building could hear him with the sheer volume that he was using. He didn’t care if people took more photos and videos to ruin his reputation – it was already tarnished enough, and he could care less about what others thought of him. Ayeon, clearly shaken by his fierce side that she had never seen before, tried to put up a strong front but Youghyun could see through it. He could see her pupils shaking, hear her voice wavering. Ayeon was all bark, but no bite. To think that he once genuinely liked her – if he ever saw his younger self now, he would have punched that bastard for having such deplorably poor taste and disgusting naivety.

“You want answers? Fine! If I can’t have you, no one will. You are mine, and mine only.”

Ayeon attempted to grab Younghyun’s collar but he slapped her hands away harshly. He would no longer be controlled by her. Younghyun scoffed at her words, he really couldn’t believe his ears anymore. Who still said such words – in this day and age?

“Listen clearly, and you better remember it well. You will never have me – not now, and not ever again in the future. You might have had my heart once but not anymore. You ruined me – ”

To prove his point, Younghyun brings Ayeon’s phone up to his face, and he heard the screen crack from the sheer force of his fingers.

“And you have the audacity to ask for me back? How shameless can you be Ayeon? You don’t damage someone then come asking for their forgiveness by hurting them again. You’ve only known how to do bad things in your life – you take advantage of them, hurt them and ruin them. You shouldn’t be allowed to do that anymore.”

With no warning whatsoever, Younghyun swung his hand back and launched Ayeon’s phone out of the window. Both watched as the phone got smashed into smithereens once it collided with the pavement – Younghyun with a stoic face and Ayeon with a look of horror on her face as she watched her new phone disintegrate into pieces. She just bought it before the trip… Turning to him with barely contained rage, she began to yell profanities at him.

“Fuck you Brian! FUCK YOU!”

Brian regarded her outburst with an expressionless face – the face of a men that truly had zero care for her. He might have been scared of her once – but not anymore, and never again. Dropping his lips to her ear, Younghyun sneered.

“Remember this feeling. Remember it forever. This is what it felt like when you thrashed my apartment that night months ago – small, insignificant, afraid. This phone is just a warning. The next time you lay your hands on Rachel, or anyone else that I care for, it’ll be more than just your phone that’s getting destroyed.”

Ayeon is left paralysed with fear at his words. Without waiting for Ayeon to grace him with a response, Younghyun walked away from the scene before he lost all control and potentially did something that he regretted. His phone buzzed in his pocket – a message from Jae:

Hey man, she’s awake. Doc said she’s doing well, still a little shaken though. Don’t come over yet, just wait till she’s willing to see you.

And so Younghyun waited. But that day never came.

For the rest of the trip, Younghyun was left with no way to contact you given that your phone was spoilt. You spent it cooped up in your room, keeping yourself entertained with a book that you brought along with you – thankfully. If you had to leave the room, Esther was always with you so Younghyun would have no chance to talk to you. You wouldn’t even spare him a glance, and Esther was still sending him death glares. It was frustrating, but he would have to wait longer. You however… had no intention of ever forgiving him or talking to him again. After all, you didn’t need confirmation to know that you’ve already broken up – it was plain for all to see.

The deal was long over before you knew it even was.

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echowolfs · 5 years

Text

I’m Worried...

I’ve never done a post like this before but… I’m worried.

I’ve loved Cassandra since basically the moment I first saw her. I’m easily exhausted by high energy personalities both in and out of real life, so it was nice to have another foil in the form of Cass for Rapunzel. She is a realist through and through, to the point to where she’ll put aside her own dreams for better, more realistic options.

Which is why I’m so scared about what’s going to happen with her story at the end of Season 3.

Resentment is a wild roller coaster of emotions and inner turmoil that can make a person do awful things, which is exactly what happened to Cassandra.

She was deeply hurt by Rapunzel’s apparent disregard for her ideas and concerns, what happened to her hand, and finally by the realization that her own (admittedly awful) mother abandoned her for Rapunzel.

I understand all of that, but I’m scared they’re going to go too far with how unreasonable someone struggling with resentment might be.

There comes a time when people who feel resentment finally snap, and for Cass that was stealing the Moonstone. Even as Cassandra runs away from the rest of her friends, she is visibly struggling with what she has done. When Rapunzel confronts her and she chooses to sticks to her guns, Cassandra has obviously made her decision in what she wants from their relationship now.

She wants nothing.

She’s done. Its over. She’s cut and burned those bridges almost with glee, but Cassandra is still a realist. She has been since season 1, and because of this I have a hard time believing Cassandra will become a vindictive character. She’s gotten her revenge. She’s on her own. Now is the perfect time for her to begin anew instead of chase after Raps and make her suffer even more.

But… that obviously isn’t going to happen.

With the upcoming episode “Be Very Afraid”, I’m scared they’re going to make her vindictive. I’m guessing the reject blue pixie will lead her to Mathews, someone she already knows to be bad, and in order to ruin Rapunzel’s day they will team up to cause havoc.

But why? Cass was obviously unsettled by her own actions when she stole the moonstone, so why would she continue to jab at Raps? To make her feel how she felt? I don’t buy it.

And then I’m gonna guess the final (or close to final) episode will be “Cassandra’s Revenge”, and there she will either be redeemed or destroyed by her own desire for vengeance. (I’m guessing redeemed because lord they do that to every baddy nowadays) ((But Cass already got her revenge??? You know, stealing the moonstone and robbing Rapunzel of her destiny?????))

And while this by far is not the path I want them to take, there ain’t a thing I can do about it but whine to family, friends, and the internet.

But…

For me, I feel there’s only one of two ways Cassandra’s story- if they do take this route, can be truly redeemed.

1.) Cassandra dies

2.) Cassandra never returns

For the first option, I’ve guessed for a long time now that when the sundrop and moonstone reconnect there’s gonna be some wild happenings. Wild happenings that spell some serious problems for the wielder. I wouldn’t be surprised at all if their reconnection will kill whoever connected them or the closest person in their vicinity.

If Cassandra continues on her path of revenge the way I think she will, she’s gonna be hard pressed to come back from that if she’s redeemed. A perfect way for her to truly prove she knows she was wrong would be to take that sacrifice, preferably forcefully.

(Imagine if Cass takes whatever sundrop essence is in Rapunzel- like rips it out of her chest or whatever in some wicked way, and whispers “I’m sorry” before getting yeeted off into the abyss. What a metal way to go.)

It doesn’t resolve her from the pain she’s caused to the main cast, but it does show she had regrets and willingly made the ultimate sacrifice to make up for them. It will also give a quick explanation why she wasn’t at the wedding, and how poetic would it be for Cassandra to get her recognition but only after she’s dead.

Now the second option is what I’d prefer.

Cass did- and probably will do, some terrible things to Rapunzel and the main cast before the season ends, and if she doesn’t die or go down as a villain, I want her redemption to be bitter sweet.

Resentment leaves a stain on people. I struggled greatly with it towards a particular friend for a full year before I cut myself out of the equation, but now that I hold no more anger towards her, I still never want her in my life again.

I would love if something similar happened. If Cass has a come to jesus moment and is redeemed, I don’t want her to come back. The damage has been done, and even if neither of them hold what happened against each other by the end of it, that’s still a hard thing to move past. Trust is shaken, nothing will ever be like it once was, and pain will be learned from, but not forgotten.

It would be beautiful for Rapunzel and Cassandra to acknowledge this and part ways amicably.

Friends don’t always stay friends forever. People and feelings and ideals change with age and experience.

Do they need to forever hate each other? No.

Do they need to recognize they are two very different people whose lives are no longer completely compatible? Yes.

I’m so worried they’ll just brush everything aside with an “I’m so sorry I was just so angry” apology, but I do have a smidge of hope with how they handled Varian’s redemption. Every box that needed to be ticked was ticked well with him, but already I feel a storm brewing with these next few episodes.

But I’ll still sure as heck watch every second of it if Cass’s story does end in some kind of train wreck I didn’t expect.

#woah this got long #tangled the series #cassandra tangled #moonsandra #rapunzel #hope i made a lick of sense with all this...

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darrowsrising · 4 years

Note

I saw your (maybe recent?) post about liking whatever characters you want to, regardless of personality or if other people like them, etc - and I wholeheartedly agree. However, glancing through some of your asks, it seems like you take a pretty caustic tone with any blog/anon that likes characters that you don't... for example, the lysander hate. Sure, plenty of people hate him, valid. But some people don't and that is also valid. I think the same could be said for almost any RR character.

So what is your point? That I should walk on eggshells with people who like the characters I don't? I don't do that on my blog, sorry. And where I have added shade and such are posts aimed to roast Roque and Lysander, so that my stuff doesn't perturbe the original poster with unwanted things. I do it in an amusing kind of way also, not to throw negativity left and right. Shading the characters I dislike deeply amuses me and some other people too.

If you come to my blog and want to talk about Roque and Lysander, I will accept and respect the fact that you are a fan (supposing you are). And I will do my best to analyse them without letting my opinion of them slip too much into the content. I have done that plenty of times, btw. However, I do reserve my rights to hate on them, because no matter what prompted them to do what they did, I simply dislike them. And I do that on my blog, where I have made it clear that I dislike them and warned people that if they like these character they may see me shading them.

That being said, I let people be and stan whoever they want to stan, because I also stan characters like Nero au Augustus or Apolloniu au Valii-Rath who are literally fancy garbage and I can be critical of their actions while still acknowledging that they are hella interesting and fascinating to the aesthetic hoe in me.

Stanning Roque and Lysander doesn't make you a bad person, but I will be critical of this 'oh, but Lysander has potential' or 'Roque did nothing wrong'. Because that, to me is simply annoying and untrue. But I will do so, only on my blog, I won't try to rain on someone else's parade. I can simply block people if I don't like their opinions, just like other people can block me if they don't like mine. No offence taken.

I can express my dislike of some characters on my blog, just like everyone else can on theirs. Unless I do a cross misinterpretation, I think it's ok of me to do that.

I am caustic towards Lysander, but that is the point Pierce Brown tries to deliver - he deserves the hatred. If you like how he is written, his over all arc and traits and all, I understand that, but you can also understand that I don't.

Coming to my blog and expecting me to mollycoddle what I hate/dislike is not really fair. I can understand why people like Lysander, I can respect we have different opinions, but I can't muster more than a tried, cold objectivity for as long as it is required of me to analyse them for an ask. Sometimes I would slip and be highly subjective in my analyses, it's only human.

I dislike saying that X character is morally better than another, that is true. That post about the best characters can vary from utter trash to cinnamon rolls was true. I should be able to like House Augustus and consider them the best without someone coming to tell me that House Bellona is morally better than them when in fact they are all in the same bloodydamn pot. They are all profeteering from the hierachy and their wealth and riches and the excuse that 'Nero's dad started it' is a third grade excuse.

People should like who they like and not be sorry about their choices (unless they are some far right twat), but that invites the utterly predictable - people should dislike who they dislike and not feel sorry about their choices (unless it's a gross misinterpretation).

I do like very morally questionable characters, that doesn't mean I condone what they do or agree with what they do. I extend this courtesy to every person - mutual or anon - who actually likes Roque and Lysander. But in rest, we all agree to disagree - they like them and I don't. And I don't rip their throats out for it, but I am not going to pretend that I am ok with these characters and what they did.

I am not going to say that Ajax is morally better than Lysander, because he is just as fucked up, but I do think he has some potential, but it exists only if he manages to see past his trauma. In the same pot, although maybe there is more honor and manners to him, is Diomedes. They are all facist, they are all killers, the degrees of annoyance they produce is just different. And of course the personality traits and backgrounds are all very different.

As I said, morality police needs to die and morality as a criteria is easy to spiral. You can't just prop a character you liked on a high horse and send them against a character you dislike and call the former better. Because it is a matter of taste. Some people like Sevro better than Darrow, I like Darrow better than Sevro, but I utterly adore Sevro. Ajax is utter trash, but Inhope he gets to win some in the last book, if only to spite Lysander. That is just a prefferance.

Idk, as long as I don't go full blown throat ripper bully on a person for daring to like a character I dislike, I think I am pretty valid. I can't always be impartial, although I do try my best, I am sorry when I don't manage to be as objective as I should.

I feel like as long as you can have a critical thinking about problematic aspects of your media, you are free to love whatever.

I am truly sorry people feel like I will rip their throats if they approach me with some stuff, I am quite radical about some stuff, although I try to reign that in. That is not what I intended, although it comes out like that despite my best intentions. That I do deeply apologize for!

But I won't walk on eggshells about my dislikes. I can try and I am trying to be less agressive in my responses. But my opinion of the aforementioned characters won't be mollycoddled. I can try for impartiality as far as analyses go, but when poeole post shade, I will reblog shade and relish in it.

Howl on!

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momo-de-avis · 5 years

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Wordtober Day 18: Misfit

Presented without comment.

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It’s not like I’ve always wanted to be an actress, it was just something I discovered at one point, and I was already good at public speaking so—not that far a distance to travel, right?

Well, almost. Because you see, as soon as I left school and decided on following that path, I realized I was actually not that good at it. Until then, I thought a few school plays and some praise from the drama teachers was enough, but then I was thrust into the real world and found myself facing the most dreadful monster anyone in the arts will face: criticism.

And criticism said that I sucked at it.

I never really went to college, I just took it to be a stupid idea—spending thousands for three years of studying acting. It’s not like it was a medical degree, or law school—I mean, it’s not on the same level of demand, right? I just thought, a few workshops, some professional one-year courses, a few masterclasses with well-known names, and it would suffice. I read a bit on my spare time too, mostly plays, and though I tried picking up books on acting, I generally just quit after a while, bored out of my mind.

I always loved the idea of pretending to be someone else on a stage or in front of a camera, this thing about letting go of who you are entirely as you prepare for a role, and embody someone else so deeply you almost forget about yourself. I always was fascinated by method actors losing their marbles over those wacky roles they poured themselves into, body and mind. A bit morbid, yeah, but interesting. I thought I was learning more from them than I possibly could in a three-year-long university course.

So I did what I could, here and there, and after four years my resume amounted to a few masterclasses and courses that cast me aside before a fellow competitor who showed up with big university names listed alongside pompous grades. This might have been about when I realize I’d made some serious misjudgement, and a petty one at that.

Six years down the line, and I was making a living out of being an extra on random shit on the telly. A few soap operas, some historical TV shows, even talk-shows. They paid little, but at least production provided a snack, and the good thing was that I got to stand in the back, watching the crew go mad about a slight fault in equipment or what-have-you, which gave me the chance to strike up a nice chat with some pop star from the telly out there. It was fun, even educational, considering TV stars love giving you unsolicited advice when you share your wish of becoming an actor with them. But it was actually quite crushing too.

I mean, I had to listen to these people going on about never quitting, never giving up on my dreams, that it’s a cutthroat world out there, competition this and that, and everyone wants a piece of what they have—go on, fly, you little bird! Sure. But not really. I might have misjudged things and should have gone to university, definitely, but it’s not like I didn’t try. I did try. I went to casting calls nearly every week, attended lectures, all that. I just hated wasting my time with networking, the one thing everyone insisted on was absolutely a necessity, like whatever talent you might have, it won’t matter until you talk like a pompous ass.

Ten years, and the best gig I had landed was a poorly made theatre production about a little kid on the moon that was, if I am being honest, a straight-up rip-off from The Little Prince, and intended at a younger audience too, though I suspect the theatre director’s decision on casting grown adults to play little children in an almost demeaning way was the major ingredient to attracting a series of college students who had a laugh with it. The critics weren’t nice about it either, but I did my job.

There were other jobs, but they were equally bad, if not worse. This one just paid best.

Twelve years on, and I escalated to a commercial on toothpaste, where I played the fake doctor saying nine out of ten dentists went absolutely nuts over this one brand, while holding a tube of—I kid you not—bland white paste that smelled of plaster. Later on, I’d even do a fast food commercial where I had to bite into a burger riddled with needles to keep the lettuce, cheese, tomato and beef straight, and though my stardom amounted to a close-up of my nostrils and biting teeth, it took me five tries because I was terrified of being impaled in the gums.

I was frustrated, I won’t deny it. I was even ashamed of showing my resume to whoever, and for every casting call I attended, I could see the disdain on those faces sitting behind that desk—that dismissive look of a casting director as she pushed her glasses down the bridge of her nose, read my miserable career’s story and asked me questions I dreaded answering. I even auditioned for bold parts I knew I’d never get, things like proper characters on TV, the lead detective on some cop show, or the love interest in a soap opera, even standing girl showing off the prices in some quiz crap.

Nothing.

You speculate when you fail, you know. Think often that it’s you: maybe you’re ugly, you’re cursed, you don’t dress properly, you don’t talk right, you lack whatever bedazzle these people, sitting at the top, have—you just lack something. Though I had the talent, I think—I might have sucked when I first started, but I got better, and there are enough mediocre actors out there making six figures to prove talent doesn’t mean shit in this world—right? So I really could not tell why I was failing, when I tried—I tried, time and again—and I just failed and failed and failed. Fail again, fail better—Beckett was a lying twat, that’s what.

Then, one afternoon, I went into a casting call for something grand, a secondary role for a recurrent character on a major TV production, some sci-fi stuff. It seemed easy enough when I read the script and the guidelines of what they were looking for, and I didn’t really do much practising—I’m good at improvisation, I reckon, even tried it for a while, though it mostly deals with comedy and I am not funny. But outside of that, I swear I am good at improvising—so I went with it, given what I had.

And I blew it. I mean monumentally blew it. I stuttered every single line that came out of my mouth, I asked to stop and try again five times, I paced back and forth with heavy breaths, trying to put my mind in order, but everything was just scrambled inside my head like when you drop a bunch of papers on the ground and try to put them back together, and I was sweating profusely—I mean, I looked like a morning jogger on his way back home. I don’t know what happened to me, I just froze in an instant of panic like I never had before—it’s my greatest quality, I can just stand before an audience and act, audiences just do not bother me at all, I’m good like that. But that day I just… felt wrecked. I couldn’t even admit to myself I should have prepared, but I had set this goal, that if I’d manage to just improvise the right way with no proper warm-up, then that meant I was good.

But I wasn’t. I blew it bad. And I walked out of there absolutely certain I had missed on yet another major opportunity.

As I opened the door to leave, someone else was coming inside, though at first I missed it and nearly let the door smash against their face. I turned back abruptly, held the door for them, apologized and… froze.

She looked exactly like me. I mean exactly the same. Same sandy-brown skin, same heart-shaped, chubby face, same light brown hairs, slightly discoloured at the tips, same tawny lips and brown eyes, even the same freckles on the nose—just everything exactly like me.

Our eyes locked on one another and she smiled, but I was certain I was just so shaken I was beginning to imagine things, so I just went home and never thought about it again.

Eight months later, the show debuted. I didn’t have any intention of watching it, considering it reminded me of my worst failure yet, but I was just skimming through the channels that night and happened to stop there for a second to reach in and grab my water bottle, and I saw it. I saw her.

She had gotten the part, and she was on TV, playing the side-character that was to be recurrent as well, but with my face. Exactly like me in every aspect—even as she spoke, it was my voice, same precise tone and accent, same quirks to the Rs and fluctuations of the Ls—just everything. A carbon copy of myself.

I searched her online—the name, at least, was different—and was slapped with a never-ending list of websites showering her with praise. The secondary character who was stealing the show, a new star was born; the flesh, the depth, the vigour she gave this mundane woman on the screen, the unmatched talent—truly, a rising star.

I can’t express just how angry it made me feel. She looked just like me—it was impossible that nobody could see it—and it turns out, I hadn’t dreamed it, that day. The more I searched her online, the more her face showed up—everywhere, just everywhere, endless pictures of this woman who had stolen my face and my talent and now every pair of eyes in the country—the world!—was on her.

I called my mum, asked her to have a look, insisted on the similarity without ever really saying just how starkly equal we were—and she dismissed it. Laughed. What do you mean!, she screamed, amused. Tou two look nothing alike! I called a friend, asked the same—even before I could spell out my troubles, she was already showering her with praise—oh, have you seen the show?, it’s marvellous, I love her role, she just puts so much heart into it, you have to watch it! But when I pressed her, she pushed it aside—looks didn’t matter, she told me—though that wasn’t even the subject at hand—and surely, you two look nothing alike.

Yet everywhere, it was me that I saw. That woman had my face, my body, my voice—and had stolen my talent.

I tried to forget about it, kept going to casting calls—and somehow, from that moment on, it seemed my luck turned for the worst. I got struck by an unexpected sense of panic, sweating profusely and shuddering at every step, hyperventilating as if I was about to pass out, and forgot my lines. I trusted my instinct on improvisation still, but that one tool that had helped me so much in the past was suddenly useless. I became afraid of hearing the sound of rejection—no, nada, zilch, bye, you suck, choose another career—it haunted me at night and I’d wake up with tears as I thought about this woman with my face stealing my confidence.

Nobody could see it. Everyone I asked, everyone I knew, I insisted she looked exactly like me, but they couldn’t see it. They laughed it off, said I was imagining things; when I pressed, they began to walk away and frown at me with suspicion as if I was nuts; when my reason began to cloud my judgement, they showed worry, suggested I should seek help. At last one day, I screamed at mum for not daring to see it and she started crying, saying I was just jealous of her fame as I had been all my life, with my dismissive attitude towards all and any who got the things I had wanted for so long without even trying hard.

She was lying, of course. I wasn’t jealous, though I couldn’t stand their pep-talks during filming breaks, between a coffee and a cigarette, and their follow-your-dreams bullshit. But this was different. I wasn’t jealous, it was just outright unfair! She looked exactly like me, how could nobody see it? And ever since she appeared in this world, she had stolen my everything—my attention, my chances, my glow, my focus. I was a shit actress again because a random stranger with my liking simply pulled the rug from beneath my feet and reaped the profits of what I had sowed!

It got worse, of course. I started drinking to get her face off my mind, but she was all I thought about, which is incredibly bizarre because the face that popped up in my head at night, as I rolled in bed with a headache, was mine, but now I was seeing myself from the outside, as—I suppose—the world saw me, but through this heavy filter of absolute scorching hatred. Yes, I hated her; I hated her so much it was all there was on my mind; I hated her with all my might, with all my vigour, and I wanted her to go away forever so I could retrieve what she had stolen.

I mean—it was unfair! Because my mum was wrong, I tried so hard, and this broad stole my appearance, my face, my voice, my outside, and suddenly she’s being given the chance to rise to the top! I even checked her resume: she attended university, worked with a drama company for three years, did comedy improv—are you joking me? Everything I tried and failed at, everything I shoved aside because I didn’t want to waste any time—she got it? That’s what separated us, what made me a failure, and she a star—a college degree?

And I mean—what else? Did she have anything I didn’t—despite, well, clearly my appearance? Maybe she fell for that crap everyone kept telling me, in the most condescending manner possible: you have to talk to people, networking is the way to go! Just talk, like that—just hold up a glass of wine and pretend, pretend you’re just like these uptight assholes standing at the top, share a laugh at a joke you don’t understand and be all fancy to their eyes—was that it? Because there had to be something else, something else besides my appearance and my talent. Just something.

I searched for very long, so long I lost focus and was out of work, eventually. I watched her videos, her interviews, analysed her behaviour—she even had my tics! The way she bit her lip, picking at the skin, while she listened to someone talk, or how she clicked her fingernails together when she thought about a question, turning her eyes down to her lap—those were mine! I even remember seeing pink magazines going on about how cute it was that she bit the skin of her fingers before a live interview because she was nervous—seriously? I did that!

Just… everything. Everything there was to know about me now existed in this person like an unauthorized biography. She told people my life’s story, my experiences, my past—the dogs and guinea pig I had as a child, the tiny scar on my knee from when I fell on the schoolyard at eight years old, that quip about the piece of paper I burned during class at fifteen.

Even when she talked about the things that were clearly hers, there was something of me. There was this one interview where she admitted she almost didn’t go to college, and when the interviewer asked why, she said, with a coy smile and pushing a lock of her hair back—like me: oh, because I was so afraid of trying something new and being put to the test, just being put into this position where I would be forced to be critical of my own talents, and I was scared of failing. And then, she looked straight into the camera.

I swear, watching that face, sat on my couch, I swear she was looking at me; I swear that bitch knew. She knew she was talking about me, because those were my thoughts. That nervousness, that hesitation, that was me on the day I held the form in my hands to apply for drama school, but didn’t. That fear was mine. And senseless as it was, I was in the right to claim my own fears, dammit! I had stood in the rain, shaking with anticipation, and I had thrown the papers in the bin because I didn’t want to be subjected to the endless torture of being told by college professors that I sucked!

My drinking got worse, my eating habits were shit, I moved back in with my mum, and my life just generally spiralled out of control. I attended casting calls with a hangover and ruined my chances; I started bawling my eyes out in the middle of shooting a commercial for a coffee brand; I fell asleep while filming a documentary where I played an extra, and was kicked out when I started a fight with the casting director on another shooting because she complained about my lack of makeup. Everywhere I went, I was just a shadow of this woman that twinkled before the cameras like a star in the skies; I was just the shameful part of a starlet, a skeleton in a closet I didn’t even know. The evil twin, if you will.

I thought my life was over. A year passed, and my mum thought I was developing an unhealthy obsession with this woman, saying I should just walk up to a mental hospital and check myself in—no more suggestions, just blatantly saying: you’re insane. My friends stopped talking to me because, according to them, I was acting strange, unable to let go of the inane idea that some random actress who had risen to fame so quickly looked, acted and existed exactly like my carbon copy. They refused to see that she was me. They refused to acknowledge that her stories were mine. They denied any similarity—over and over again, they just told me I was batshit crazy.

So I quit. I quit my dream, my life and my passions, and I just let this person possess my everything, while dreaming of hating her so much I’d kill her if I had the chance.

And that was it. It was either me or her, but this world was not made to have the two of us in it.

I tried messaging her. Found her online, every profile I could, and pasted the exact same message on every one of them, sent privately: you stole my life. Seconds later, every single messaging system beeped: you stole my life. The exact same words I had sent her, now sent back to me. I tried again, this time typing something different: you’re pretending to be me, you scheming little bitch—and they beeped back: same message, ipsis verbis. Eventually, I slammed the keyboard, producing a string of incomprehensible jargon of just random letters, numbers and symbols—and hit enter. And the exact same string of nonsense was returned to me.

I stared at the blinking cursor for a long time, shuddering in the half-darkness of my room in dread, certain nothing about this was normal, and yet the prevailing emotion to my heart was just pure, boisterous rage. Whatever it was, whatever she was, it was clear she was keen on driving me insane, forcing me into the piths of my own madness, until all there was to my existence was my obsession with this double that had stolen my life and made a spectacle out of it—while no one believed me.

So I looked for her. It wasn’t hard to figure out where she lived, not with all the gossiping magazines stalking her to the gym, to the store, to the movies, complaining about her outfits—outfits I owned, too. It simply took a little patience, some careful watching, some geographical studying of her movements, and within two weeks, I managed to figure out where she lived by simply following her route home.

It was night when I finally decided on confronting her. She turned the street and walked ahead calmly, hands deep in her pockets, and I stalked her into an empty alleyway with barely a light on. She stopped in front of a closed door, placed her hand on it and turned around—looking straight into my eyes with a twisted, perverted smile. Then, she pushed the door open and went inside—and left it ajar for me.

The building was bare empty. I mean bare empty. Every light was off, the lift not working, no sound coming from behind any door in any hallway. No plants, no garbage bins, not even a piece of advertising flapping off some mailbox—nothing. As if nobody lived there, except her. It was so vacant, so hollow, it made me shudder, like I was walking into a trap, and were it not for my obsession on hating this woman, on setting this matter straight once and for all, I would have gotten out of there. I was shaking in terror, absolutely mortified of the idea of what I would find there—I mean, the walls were dirty, with chipped off paint, some of them riddled with old graffiti—it seriously looked stripped bare of life, and like it had been so for a very long time.

But I still went inside. Terrified of what was to come, quivering at the sight of every dancing shadow, breathing heavily, I went into that dark, hollow building, reeking of old pipes and copper, and found the only door open with light inside.

I went in, but the flat appeared abandoned as well. There was but a ratty old sofa in the middle, a broken coffee table in front of it, no TV and no electrical apparatus of any sort, just old furniture scattered about. No curtains either, just the electric lights outside shining in with ease, and it cast a faint glimmer of yellow and orange on the absolute misery that was the flat. Even as I crossed the door, a million things cracked under my soles and I saw, to my surprise, there was just rubble everywhere, pieces of old stone crumbled down, broken glass here and there and garbage. A dusty bottle in a corner, a syringe glistening beneath an old chair, cigarette butts and empty crisp packets everywhere.

She stood under a doorway, her face absolutely frozen, the traits of her that composed me barely visible under the lack of light—and I trembled at the sight. I hated her, but there was something inhuman to that woman, something out of this world. She wasn’t normal. She was not supposed to exist. She was not something someone just made happen, something that just existed, that was just… there. She was like a glitch, a malfunction that nobody set straight, and I wondered—how long had she been there? Had she been there all my life and I hadn’t noticed? Had she been watching me from afar, waiting for the right time to reveal herself in full and take over my insecurities and failures to aggrandize them and twist them to her own liking, making me the sorrowful, miserable looser on the fringe of despair?

I didn’t know what to do for a long time. All my body felt compelled to do was cry, just curl into a ball and cry, and sobbing into my clothes, bawling like a toddler, I just said: why? I wanted to tell her I hated her, I wanted to pick up a shard from the floor and stick it into her skull, I wanted to cut her and make her bleed, to watch her wither in pain and maybe even cry too—but I just teared up and shrivelled in tears.

I don’t know how long it passed, but it seemed quite long. Throughout, she didn’t move—she just stood and watched. When I finally wiped my tears and looked into her eyes, she was smiling—that same perverse smile of someone sketched into reality solely to cause you fear and horror and make you tremble in your whole existence, just someone tailored to be your very own tormentor. I hated her still, but what I felt more vividly inside my pumping heart was utter, paralyzing fear. Fear she would take over me so completely I would eventually vanish, evaporate like sand in the wind, gone into thin air, forever; until all that was left was but a faint memory of someone who might have been there once, but wasn’t anymore—until that too would be gone. And I’d be nothing but a mistake forged somewhere in the past, by two people who had sorrowfully made sex one night to produce a child, and that child would fall into oblivion, stolen from the memory of the world forever by an alien meant to mimic my very own self.

I was so terrified she would take everything away from me that was all I’d be left with: nothingness, obscurity. Worse: me. Just me. Just my failures and my life. Just a life led through a string of mistakes I had swept under a rug to pretend they had never been there and moved on with a false sense of security, terrified of starting over. I was terrified this woman, who had stolen everything that was me, was there to laugh one last laugh and take all that I had left: my broken self.

And there she was: the projection of a failed dream. Successful in all I had never been, able to overcome every step I had climbed down, clambering her way up while I kept on falling. The ideal. The past and future without so much as a hint of the present—in the flesh, through me, in my image. Laughing in scorn.

She gave a step forward, picked up a shard from the floor, twisted it in her fingers; her smile grew, white teeth glinting silver, and something daunting fell on my shoulders as I watched in silence, quivering in dread. She looked again at me with a glare, and the corners of her lips fell abruptly as she frowned and pressed the shard between her fingers.

“Is this what you want?” She asked; with one swift gesture, she pulled up her sleeve and gripped the shard. The glinting piece of glass entered her flesh, a slick, thin line of red slithered up her arm, and it thickened as the pressed deeper and deeper—eyes locked on mine—until the blood pooled on the ground beneath her.

I flinched, gasped and held onto my arm; I felt that jabbing pain too, but it was somehow sweet, and instead of warding it away, I embraced it—though the crying returned, and this time more copious than before. And when she was done, she did it again—slicing herself until the blood squirted out and her fingers were covered in red, and not a slight sense of pain to her. All I could say was one thing: stop hurting me.

She stopped, dropped the shard on the floor and walked away. For a very long time, I couldn’t move, cast over a sense of paralyzing terror so great I was afraid of opening my eyes and find things I didn’t want to see—but glad, so glad she was gone. And I knew then—somehow, I knew—she was gone for good. Gone from my life. Gone from the world.

I looked down at my arm, pulled up my sleeve, and there was a scar there, long and thin, but marked with a lump of creasy skin.

It was morning when I went home. From that day on, she ceased to exist. No more articles about her, her name wasn’t listed in any movie, and every poster ever made with her now featured someone else. When I told people her name, they didn’t recognize it.

She was just gone, as if nobody had even noticed she’d been there at all.

And now, being the only one who remembers her, who remembers all that horrible, gnawing pain that ate up my arm that night, or that paralyzing dread of seeing my double steal from my failures, feels like being stuck inside a cage forever.

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Past Challenges:

Wordtober Day 1: Ring

Wordtober Day 2: Mindless

Wordtober Day 3: Bait

Wordtober Day 4: Freeze

Wordtober Day 5: Build I

Wordtober Day 6: Build II

Wordtober Day 7: Enchanted (Encantada)

Wordtober Day 8: Frail

Wordtober Day 9: Swing

Wordtober Day 10: Pattern

Wordtober Day 11: Snow

(Skipped Day 12)

Wodrtober Day 13: Ash

Wordtober Day 14: Overgrown

Wordtober Day 15: Legend

Wordtober Day 16: Wild

(Skipped day 17)

#wordtober #my wrodtober #writing #my writing #creative writing #fiction #more magical realism than horror but hey #this one's personal #my wordtober #i fucking mispelled it the first time and tumblr wont let me delete it smdh

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a-ard · 5 years

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Thoughts on Iruka discourse yesterday lets go

First of all dont take this seriously because this a shitty website, not college. Second of all forgive my Indonesian ass if i made stupid grammar mistakes and only mutuals can correct me. Third of all i dont generalize everyone but if you’re offended-- maybe you have to check yourself

Okay so, everyone is surprised (myself included) why shitheads suddenly hate Iruka. I’m trying to answer myself from observations and its quite simple really

Either from 1) jealousy, or 2) Racism

Eveeeery post about how trash Iruka is came from jealousy. He’s a great dude, and yes. A side character. And yes people love him and he’s popular and people make content for him and ship him. And its fucking okay? Like if you really read or watch canon Naruto and not fillers, you know he’s the least problematic character out there since chapter one

The comments about Iruka that i read here on tumblr or twitter is about how Iruka is... Overrated? Which is... doesnt make sense because he has never been popular on tumblr or twitter since idk 2018? 2016? Maybe? But real fans know he always won most 10 popular characters in Japan and loved by everyone and it has never been a problem,,, 'till now i guess

I’m not talking about kakagaiyamaobi rn because they hate his very existence without reading or watching Naruto at all. I’m talking the kind of jealousy dudebros have toward Iruka since Jiraiya or Kakashi didnt get Naruto’s father title.

Like, people get confused with parental and mentor figure when their thought process revolve around who can beat who,,, and Hinata’s vs Sakura’s boobs. Thats all what they’re talking about really. You can find them mostly on twitter or instagram

And yesterday i found out (this is new, even from me) here on tunglr dot com that people hate Iruka because he’s popular than Chouji! Really!! This is mind blowing because there’s like... no correlation between them.. at all... They’re both nice characters but they rarely interact? People really out there comparing Iruka... and Chouji. Amazing

I dont want to say who’s better than who in this case.. So some Chouji stans hate Iruka because (in their logic) he’s a side character who gets popular than Chouji (who is a main character), because Chouji is a fat character and people are way more inclined to stan skinnier character (in this case, Iruka) when both of them care deeply for Naruto

That’s why you will always see these comments about Shikamaru & Chouji vs Iruka like,,, its stupid and petty but there it is. And I just knew about this yesterday.

(If any Chouji fans reading this, know that we dont hate Chouji at all.. People, especially POC, adore Iruka because we hardly have any representation.. Especially dark skinned Asian)

Alright now we’re talking about the kakagaiyamaobi or whoever the fuck. It’s pure jealousy at this point. Like they’ll take whatever Iruka hate post out there out of it context and make it all about their dear, depressed, Kakashi.

EVEN if the hate post about Iruka doesnt talk about his relationship with Kakashi, they’ll find a WAY. CHECK TAGS these people are crazy lmao. You’ll see...

These shitheads will always find a way of comparing or relating Iruka with Kakashi, Yamato, Gai, or even Obito. Not in a "oh Iruka skills are blablabla so he can beat A, B, or C" in a dudebros way. Its always about how Iruka isn't good enough for Kakashi? Like seriously. I've seen kakagai called him a trash character for being not good enough for Kakashi or because kakairu is popular? Thats jealousy babe!

They said Gai would help Kakashi took care of Naruto. Or when someone suddenly said that Iruka doesnt understand Kakashi's depression and obsession with his dead teammates. Or how Yamato did better of taking care of Naruto than Iruka. In the end it always revolves around Iruka’s relationship with Kakashi and i want to rip my hair off because GOD its so childish you’re 23!!! Mind your own bussiness god

It sucks because i'm cool with Yamato, Gai, or Obito but shitheads always talk about them when it comes to who cares/fucks Kakashi here on tumblr and hardly about their potential or jutsus... And suddenly Iruka is a bad character because "hey! People love him and start shipping him with Kakashi when these three are here!!"

"You know what would make people stop shipping him with Kakashi? Reminding people that he’s a side character and making Iruka as an abusive asshole who doesnt care about Naruto!"

And the last one, racism.

"He's a dark skinned East Asian man who are very caring and kind and loves kid. We hate that about him. Anyone in this shounen manga can punch kids but when it comes to Iruka scolding Naruto its not fucking allowed."

“He’s your dark skinned character and we can’t make him big and loud? Trash. He’s kind and caring and quiet and he’s not white? He’s not pale at all? Garbage.”

“We can’t racebending him the way we did Gai because he’s already brown and its not woke enough?! We can’t get brownie points out of him”

“Everything about him is abusive.”

Some weirdo here on tumblr sent Afronaruto an ask that if she doesn’t ship kakagai she hates brown people?!!!! LMAO

Can y’all like,, stop being a weirdo? Who’s fault is it that Iruka has more content and love when all you do is copying each other bitching post? I feel sorry for you

#rant #Iruka Umino #Umino Iruka #naruto #only iruka stans allowed to interact #long post #this is... 890 words

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ilytuan · 5 years

Text

Etched 「yugyeom」

genre › tattoo artist!au ︱ fluff

pairing › reader ︱ yugyeom / mark tuan

word count › 4,890

warning › language

“Hyung, you can’t just-” A voice whispered, although it was far from hushed. You heard heavy footsteps approach before the warm Egyptian cotton duvet was ripped away from you, making you shiver as your body became exposed to the air that came rushing in.

“Yugyeom, she’s awake. Just get her the fuck out of here before I do it myself.” A gruff voice commanded. You had only stirred away a few moments ago, when the door had been violently swung open and the knob hit the wall with a loud crash. The covers were already pulled up past your mouth before they walked in, so you shifted yourself down the bed a little to cover your face and try to stay calm amongst the commotion.

You had no idea what was happening, or where you were, but the familiar name made you gather enough bravery to peel open an eye, but you regretted it instantly when you were startled out of your skin at the sight. A rather tall and cold looking man, whose arms and neck from what you could make out were completely tattooed with black ink drawings of intricate designs and mostly unidentifiable Chinese characters, was standing right next to the bed, an angry scowl on his face and you guessed he was the culprit in the case, ripping away the warm duvet and slamming open the door. Or maybe you were the culprit.

A gasp of blind stupor escaped your lips before you could help it and in a flash Yugyeom had crossed the room with only a few long strides from where he was standing impotently at the door, snatching your hand and pulling you up from the bed with ease as if you weighed as light as feather. You didn’t.

“Thanks for the bed, hyung.” Yugyeom spoke in a clipped tone, barely nodding his head at the man who’s eyes were no longer focused on the pair of you, but the rather messy state you had left his bed. In any other circumstance, you would’ve gladly left it clean and well-made before departing, but obviously Yugyeom had other plans.

“Oh God, you almost got me killed, Y/N.” Yugyeom exaggerated, dropping your hand when you were finally in the clear. “Jaebum hyung does not like it when I touch his bed, let alone some complete stranger to him. It took you so damn long to wake up.”

“Why was I even in his bed?”

Yugyeom looked extremely unimpressed when he heard those words. “Do you seriously not remember? Not a single thing?” His eyebrows rose in curiosity.

You shook your head, at a complete loss for words. You were still drowsy too, the traces of sleep evident in the way your eyes were drooping and your hair was an utter mess. Shivering, you only just noticed the attire you were in, or lack of.

“Where the fuck is my shirt?” Your voice trembled from your decreasing body temperature despite how infuriated you tried to sound, attempting to cover yourself with your arms to salvage a bit of decency, or as much as you could from being only in a hot pink lace bra. Yugyeom had disappeared and you prayed for his own sake that he was gone to find your shirt, or at least something to replace it.

Glancing around, you discovered that you were standing half naked in a tattoo parlour. There wasn’t a sign to show the name of the store, but you could only imagine that it was insanely popular from the numerous amounts of drawings and sketches that adorned almost every wall in the place, to help customers with choosing what kind of design they wanted to get inked. If it wasn’t a drawing, it was a shelf full of coloured inks, needles and jewellery, which you tried to avoid looking at because body piercings had never settled well with you.

“I couldn’t find your shirt, but I found one that you can wear.” Yugyeom made his presence known by speaking considerably loud, or maybe it was just because you had been in the silence for far too long.

“Does it belong to you, or your hyung?” You joked, not really wanting to deal with the man you had seen from earlier because it was easy to tell that he wasn’t the friendliest of people, or maybe he had something against you for sleeping in his bed. You pictured the scowl he had worn so apparently on his face and shivered again, grabbing the shirt and pulling it on despite Yugyeom not having answered your question yet.

“I think it’s Mark’s. Or maybe Youngjae’s. But it’s safe to wear as long as it’s not hyung’s, right?”

You nodded in response, feeling so much better now that you had recovered your modesty. You began walking around the main lobby area of the parlour, inspecting some of the gallant drawings on the walls. Some were particularly interesting to you – the symbols, flowers and one that you instantly recognised, Yugyeom’s star tattoo that was etched into his right side.

“Is this where you work?” You questioned simply, moving on from admiring the drawings to peer at the interior design of the place. A comfortable black, leather couch was placed in the left corner of the room beside the receptionist’s desk, on the wall behind it was multiple paintings of anonymous artists, in front of the couch was a glass coffee table with a vase of white flowers and the walls were painted black with more drawings done in white and grey paints. You spotted a few sculptures here and there too but you didn’t look long enough to figure out what they were of. There was two rooms opposite the coach, leading into where you assumed tattooing and piercings took place. Leather chairs placed strategically in the centre of the rooms and wooden cupboards which stored materials but everything looked strangely modern and contemporary, and you were impressed by whoever designed the whole place. Even the lights were a bright light from the LED bulbs that were installed, giving a pretty glow and setting the atmosphere. You noticed it was dark out, but light enough to signify morning.

“Wow. I know it’s your first time here and everything, but you act as if we’ve been living in entirely different worlds.”

“Well, if you’d care to explain what the hell I’m doing here, then that’d help me to make a lot more sense of things.” You countered him, raising an eyebrow when he huffed.

“I’m Kim Yugyeom, your best friend, and only friend. It’s nice to meet you.” He quipped, proud at himself for whatever stupid reason. He stuck a hand out in front of him too, as if to shake his hand but you pushed it out of the way.

“Cut the shit, Yugyeom. Just tell me what happened, from the beginning.” He grunted a response, scratching his head as if he had forgotten himself. If he did, you would’ve slapped him because the audacity of that boy.

˞˞˞˞

You bustled into Black Phoenix, a frown permanently glued onto your face as you pushed open the absurdly heavy door of the intimidating store. You had never been in here, and you never wanted to because tattoos and piercings were entirely out of your world and you wouldn’t even imagine getting anything of the sort. The idea of getting something so committal inscribed into a part of your body never quite wrapped around your head.

A bell above the door chimed upon your entry, drawing the attention of Mark, who was sat at the receptionist’s desk. He had been hunched over on the chair behind the spruce wood desk, playing PubG on his mobile phone before you diverted his attention with your entrance. He put the phone down and flashed you a charming smile, before asking, “here for a tattoo?”

You shook your head rapidly, revolted by even the thought of someone thinking you’d even consider getting a tattoo. Mark titled his head to the side, “a piercing then?”

That made you shake your head even more, despising the idea of putting a hole into your body and skin more than you did of the ink. Mark scratched the back of his neck in brief confusion before shooting back up and springing out of his chair. An amused and triumphant look was now on his face as he scribbled something down on a piece of paper and turned to you after dropping the pen on the desk.

“You’re here for a removal!” He exclaimed, feeling proud of himself for finally figuring it out. You almost felt bad for shaking your head, because the disappointment that crossed his face was so gut-wrenching. A smile suited his handsome features much better, but you weren’t about to tell him that when he didn’t even know you. The only information you knew about him was that he was new to the job and was only just learning the basics of tattoo artistry. Yugyeom had talked to you about it one night about two weeks ago and you were thankful you remembered bits of it.

“Don’t tell me there’s more than those three? Just how much is there to learn.” Mark pouted and you found yourself smiling at how inexperienced yet adorable he was. It was strangely beguiling.

“I’m here to see Yugyeom.” Your voice was croaky from how long you had been walking for in search of this damned store, without getting a drip of water at all since your breakfast which was a shocking ten hours ago. “Is he here?”

Mark hummed in thought. “I think he’s with a client at the moment, but you’re free to wait here for him.”

You took a brief look around the space, deeply impressed by the fashionable interior of the place and how well everything looked in contrast with each other. The drawings attached to the wall were the most impressive, that and the multiple sculptures scattered around the place which were made of white marble and painted clay. There was only one place to sit, which was in the left corner of the parlour so you made your way there.

“Are you Yugyeom’s girlfriend?” Mark questioned innocently. He had sat back down quietly in his seat after you had taken yours, but he found himself unable to concentrate on his game and wanting to make conversation instead, which was a first because Mark hated talking.

You almost choked at the inquiry, shooting Mark an amused look that had him looking back at you sheepishly. “No way. We’re just friends.”

“Are you here to collect a bottle of wine? Yugyeom mentioned it this morning, said an ugly girl would come by in the evening looking for him and to give it to her when she did, but I think you’re far from ugly.”

You paused to think for a moment, barely containing a smile at him and his infectious happy mood. Wine? You were almost completely sure that you were here to collect the deposit money that Yugyeom was due to give you for entering him into a drawing competition that he hadn’t had the chance to apply for himself.

“Thanks man. See you in two weeks, make sure to keep it disinfected.” Yugyeom’s voice filled the silent air, a loud clap following just as you turned your attention to Yugyeom and a slightly older man who was heavily inked, to see them shaking hands vigorously. The man gave a brief nod to Mark, who nodded back and he did the same to Yugyeom. “Two weeks. I’ll be back.”

He left without much else, the chime of the bell which signalled your entrance ringing again to signalling his exit. Yugyeom turned to you after watching his retreating back for a short while.

“You’re early.” He noted, reaching behind the desk for something which you couldn’t quite make out. It was a pad of fluorescent yellow, which was what Mark had scribbled on earlier. Before you had a chance to reply to him though, another guy walked in after coming out from the room beside where Yugyeom had come from, a petite girl following behind him, although it was more like she was hiding. She whispered something to him and without even a nod of acknowledgement towards everyone else in the room, dashed for the door with hurried footsteps and pushing open the door you struggled with admirably.

“Hyung, I know you own the place but isn’t it gross to-” Yugyeom started, but he wasn’t able to finish his sentence before the guy wrapped his arm around Yugyeom’s neck and held him in a tight headlock. “Wanna finish that sentence, punk?”

Yugyeom shook his head, eyes begging for mercy but you knew he found the whole thing entertaining. He always has loved teasing everyone, especially you, so much so that he practically lived and thrived off of it.

“Jaebum, let him go. We have a guest.” Mark spoke up, successfully diverting Jaebum’s attention from ruffling Yugyeom’s hair playfully to you. His face immediately turned into an annoyed scowl, eyes glaring at you slightly with judgement. Jaebum released his hold on Yugyeom with a push forward in your direction, making Yugyeom stumble and almost trip over his own feet.

“We’re closed. Come back tomorrow if you’re getting a tattoo.” His voice was unbelievably hostile and you found yourself copying his demeanour, a scowl and glare of your own forming.

“I never said I was here for a tattoo, did I?” You challenged him, but Yugyeom shushed you, pulling you up from the comfortable black couch and dragging you along with him to his studio. You pinched his bare arm roughly to make him drop his hold and he yelped in pain, immediately letting go of your wrist to rub the spot you pinched.

“Do you have to argue with everyone you meet?” Yugyeom sounded annoyed with you, but you only took it as good nature. Both of you were always poking fun at each other, and this was nothing out of the ordinary.

“I didn’t argue with Mark.” You defended yourself but Yugyeom shook his head in dismay. He wasn’t wrong when he said you commonly argued with people, but in your defence they were always the ones who started or tried to aggravate you.

“That’s because Mark is Mark.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” You were about to say, but Mark popped his head in the door and said it instead, a teasing glare directed towards Yugyeom. Good God, he was attractive. His skin was clear without a trace of a blemish and his hair was the perfect mix of styled and messy – just perfect, as if he had styled it earlier in the day but the course of today had tousled it a bit to make it what it is now.

You briefly glanced at the clock to see that it was nearing nine o’clock and you needed to get home soon and sleep decently because work was beckoning your name. Getting here was so tedious and tiresome, and you had instantly regretted not asking Yugyeom which side of town it was on and the exact address, because it was inconveniently situated all the way on the opposite side of where you worked and lived and you had gotten lost more times than you could count on your two hands. All for some money that he hadn’t even given you yet.

“Nothing. You’re just too kind for Y/N to pick a fight with.” Yugyeom smirked, pleased with the glare that deepened on your face and the smile that broadened on Mark’s. “Don’t listen to him, Y/N. I think you’re fine the way you are.”

You stuck your tongue out at Yugyeom, edging closer to Mark who was giggling at your childish bicker. “Anyway, is the wine for you? You didn’t reply to me earlier.”

“It’s not. I think Yugyeom’s been mistaken, because I’m not ugly and he owes me money, not wine.” You replied, smiling warmly at Mark. He hummed in thought, glancing back towards the desk where you now noticed a brightly coloured gift bag was placed, no doubt containing a bottle of wine.

“Yugyeom owes you money? And here I thought he was rolling in money.”

Snorting, you couldn’t help but laugh at that. Mark was so innocent that you found him incredibly endearing and easy to talk to. “I agree. I mean, have you seen all the designer clothes and jewellery he wears? Not to mention his car. That goddamned Audi.”

“Yeah! He drove me to work once and I wasn’t going to say anything, but how much did it cost bro?” Mark turned to Yugyeom with a curious look, only to receive a groan in response.

“Hyung! Don’t play along with her, she’ll make you evil.” Yugyeom whined, cheeks turning a bright pink colour at the mention of his car who he named Younghee. There was nothing he loved more than his car and the day he brought it to show you, you had fallen to the floor in a heap of uncontrollable laughter, because who on earth names their car, let alone the name Younghee.

“Mark, you know what name he gave his car?”

Mark turned to look at you incredulously, disbelief coating his dazzling features. “He named his car?”

“Yup. He named it Younghee. Kim Younghee.”

Both of you looked at you each other for a fleeting moment, neither of you saying anything before you both erupted into laughter at the same time. You had to clutch your stomach from laughing so hard and Mark had rolled onto the floor in a similar way you had the first time. Yugyeom had his arms crossed at his chest, growing agitated at you and Mark for making fun of him.

When you finally calmed down, which took a considerable amount of time and honestly, you were still occasionally giggling to yourself whenever you met Mark’s eyes, or there was a moment too long of silence, Yugyeom led you out of his room and back to the main lobby. Jaebum had disappeared long ago.

“If the wine’s not yours, who’s is it?” Yugyeom wondered aloud to which you shrugged your shoulders at. “We can just share it.”

Somehow, within the next ten minutes, you had given up on getting home and to the warmth of your bed and decided on playing a game of truth or dare where you would drink for everything you didn’t want to do or answer with Mark and Yugyeom, and Jaebum who decided to join too, much to his and your dismay. Yugyeom promised he would give you the money he owed by the end of the night, just to ensure that you wouldn’t run away if he or the boys gave you a particularly harsh challenge or if the alcohol ran out. You doubted the latter though, because whoever the wine was gifted from, gave you a whole three bottle set of deluxe Dom Perignon.

“Truth or dare?” You asked Yugyeom, an evil smirk appearing on your face as you tried to conjure up some good questions. He had been the sore loser of the game of rock, paper, scissors and you were more than glad to kick off the game. “Truth.”

You decided to start out easy, not wanting to say all the good ones right at the start but still wanting to start as fun as you could, with Yugyeom chickening out and choosing truth. “What’s your most embarrassing memory?”

Yugyeom visibly gulped and shifted uncomfortably in his spot, glancing towards each of you before taking a deep breath and answering. “I was with all my friends – hyung, Jackson, Jinyoung, Youngjae and Bam. They were pranking me with some stupid hidden camera for Jackson’s Youtube channel and broke a bottle of wine. They blamed it on me and I almost died of embarrassment on the spot, thinking I dropped some million dollar wine when it actually only cost like twenty. God, I wanted to kill all of you after I found out.”

All of you were in fits of laughter at the story. You didn’t even have to be there to picture what the scene must’ve been like, and it was a damn funny one. Yugyeom was a naive person and easily took the blame for others even if he knew he wasn’t at fault just so issues could be resolved quickly and forgotten easily. His friends loved him for being so kind, but it didn’t stop them from messing with him equally as much.

The night progressed and each of you got remarkably drunk, too out of mind to play the game properly anymore. Most of the wine had been devoured by the five of you, Youngjae had joined after waking up from a nap and coming down to find you all heavily invested in the game. Now it was your turn for the umpteenth time and you were amazed at how there was still more to be asked. Yugyeom pointed a lazy finger at you, barely able to hold it up with how dizzy his head was feeling. None of you had actually outed on a challenge, but the wine was disappearing like a cloud of smoke.

“Y/N, I dare you to get a tattoo. Right now.” His words were slurred, but you heard him clearly enough. “What? Are you fucking crazy. No way. Pass me the wine.”

You stuck your hand out, expecting to receive the green bottle any second but it never came. Jaebum was smirking, looking around at the rest of the guys who were egging you on, stating that a tattoo really wasn’t that bad and that you’d look cool with one.

“Oops, what can you do. Looks like we’re all out of wine.” Jaebum stated, a mischievous glint to his eyes. You refused to believe him and stumbled to your feet, tipping your head back and dangling each bottle over your tongue, only to find that they really were empty. Disappointed, you staggered around the parlour, looking for any sight of a fridge or stash of alcohol. You knew two of the boys lived upstairs. Surely they would have some alcohol there, they were all guys after all.

“Take me upstairs. There’s alcohol there, I’m sure of it.” You demanded, placing your hands on your hips in an attempt to look fierce but failing miserably when they all laughed at you.

“That’s against the rules, Y/N. You have to play fair; Mark streaked down the street, Jaebum has a mullet now and I got a tongue piercing. Youngjae joined late but even he’s done more than you! It’s just a tattoo.”

Sighing heavily, you gave up on trying to win against them. “I’ll get the tattoo. But you have to get the alcohol because there’s no way I’m going in there this sober.” You were far from sober, but not drunk enough to have enough courage to do this.

They agreed and each of them went their separate directions. Youngjae retreated to his room for the night, Mark went to prepare Yugyeom’s studio, Yugyeom went to wash his face with cold water to wake himself up and Jaebum went to retrieve the bottle of soju he had upstairs. You followed Mark to Yugyeom’s studio, pestering him about the whole process because as much as you hated to admit it, you were nervous as hell.

“I don’t have a tattoo myself but if the boys are so addicted to it, I can’t imagine it to be that bad. And hey, if you get scared, you can just hold my hand.”

Mark flashed you a blindingly bright smile, wiping down the seat and prepping it with a layer of cling film. He wiped down the tattoo gun and needles too, making you gulp loudly to which he chose to ignore because he knew it wouldn’t be nice to make fun of you when you were getting something etched into your skin for life. It was a commitment he wasn’t sure he’d like to take either.

Yugyeom sketched a few things for you after returning from the bathroom before you finally settled on one with a brisk nod of your head, afraid that all the alcohol you consumed that evening would come back up if you dared to speak. It was a long sequence of sakura blossom flowers, and it would be done in white ink on your lower back. Yugyeom warned that the white ink would be much worse than the black if you were to remove it, but you decided if you were going to get it done regardless, you would stay committed and not remove it, so might as well get something that you’ll actually enjoy seeing and not grimacing over each time.

Mark stayed true to his word and held your hand whenever you let out a yelp of pain. You would be lying if you said it didn’t soothe you immensely. The feeling of his warm hand tightening on yours whenever you got startled was incredibly nice and you may have feigned pain a couple of times just to feel it again. If he noticed, he chose not to say anything and the same went for Yugyeom. They had the decency to cover you with a warm blanket and shield the bits of skin that you exposed from taking off your shirt and of course, to keep you warm in the chilly parlour.

Jaebum never came back with the soju, but that was already expected and you were slightly relieved because he would’ve no doubt made you more tense with his presence and ruin the calm atmosphere you had going with just Mark and Yugyeom with you. Everything felt calm and familiar, which eased your racing heart a little.

Somewhere along the way, you must’ve fallen asleep because when you came to consciousness was the moment when Yugyeom and Jaebum entered the room earlier this morning.

˞˞˞˞

“So, you’re telling me, that you coerced me into getting a tattoo, while I was drunk out of my mind. And I slept in Jaebum’s room because there was nowhere else you could bring me.” You stared at him in disbelief, impatiently tapping your foot as you waited for an answer.

Yugyeom snickered, biting his lip to try and refrain himself when you glared intensely at him. “Pretty much, yeah. But don’t be mad at me, I know you enjoyed holding Mark’s hand. And the tattoo looks pretty good!”

“Hmph, yeah right. Show me what it looks like, asshole.”

Yugyeom manoeuvred around you, grabbing your phone from your awaiting hand to snap a picture of your lower back where the tattoo was laid, now etched into your skin for the rest of your life. The shutter of the camera went off at the same time as the bell chime of the parlour, signalling someone’s entrance and you turned your head back past Yugyeom to see Mark.

He greeted you with a warm smiling, bounding over to look at what you and Yugyeom were doing and making a sound of understanding. Even with the insanely early hour of the morning, he looked breath-taking and stunning, as if he had just come out of filming a commercial.

“Last night was quite the event, huh?” Mark jibbed, trying to dodge you in a failed attempt as you reached your hand out to grab him for the comment, chasing after him as Yugyeom stared at the photograph he took on your phone.

Yugyeom really wasn’t lying. You could see the obvious skill and care he took into sketching the flowers itself, and then inking them onto your skin, aware of how big of a commitment it was for you. The white blossoms had pink and brown accents and looked ethereal on your skin and you clapped him firmly on the back, feeling proud of his talent after seeing it so up-handed and personally. He smirked knowingly at you.

“I wouldn’t fuck up on something like that, Y/N. Don’t you know how skilled I am?”

That comment made you chase after him like you did Mark, disturbing Jaebum who was already in a sour mood as he came waltzing down the stairs like he owned the place. You know he did actually own the place, but it’s a figure of speech. Youngjae trailed behind him, looking as bright as ever and immediately rushed to your side, eager to see you tattoo after hearing about it from Jaebum. You figured Jaebum slept in Youngjae’s room last night after Yugyeom pleaded to let you stay in his room.

Yugyeom poked you lightly on the back where the tattoo was, making you whine in pain but both of you were grinning madly, amused by the whole situation even if you were fearful and drunk at the start.

His eyes trailed to where your hand was gently tracing the outline of the tattoo, feeling all of the crevices and bumps it had for the moment until it became fully settled into your skin. “Addicted yet?” He asked, eyes glimmering with a thrill that you would find yourself growing familiar with.

“Not quite yet,” you smirked back, but you know it wasn’t going to be long until you were etched in ink all over.

#yugyeom #mark tuan #got7creators #kwritersworldnet #thekpopnetwork #got7 #yugyeom fanfic #yugyeom scenarios #yugyeom fluff #mark tuan scenarios #mark tuan fluff #mark tuan fanfic #got7 fanfic #got7 scenarios #got7 fluff #got7 yugyeom #got7 mark

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gx5ds · 5 years

Link

Prompt: Duel Disk (Yugiotober) & Explosion (Whumptober) Characters: Goblin Elite Force, Haou’s Duel Disk, Haou Ship: None Warnings: Major Character Death, Graphic Violence Summary: While searching for their missing comrade, the Goblin Elite Force discover something horrifying.

A/N: As I didn't want to play the pronoun game with 4 goblins I, with the help of a name generator, chose some names for them. Say hello to Cilaz, Striosserk, Wreg and Ios. Or goodbye as the case may be.

"What could be taking Cilaz so long? Surely we'd be informed if Haou wanted him for a longer task," Striosserk grumbled.

He and Wreg made their way through Haou's castle. 4 members of the Goblin Elite Force were called in from their usual stations assigned to them by Skull Bishop. A simple but important mission of exchanging information their spies had gathered. A small group of riders was way better suited than one of the flying creatures within the army, slipping past enemy forces unnoticed.

Cilaz was pulled away. Called in by Haou himself, Chaos Sorcerer had said. His grin made Wreg uncomfortable. Too much madness in one being. But he was dangerous above all else so Wreg held his tongue. Cilaz can take care of himself, Wreg told himself. Haou wouldn't keep him long without informing them, he thought.

And now here they were, walking through Haou's castle on the search for their comrade. It was so sparse in decoration, so sparse in life. They hadn't seen anyone in a while. The last one had been a Cilaz-less Chaos Sorcerer who passed them by with that same mad grin still stretching his lips. The air was filled with a darkness that burned in his lungs more than the heat from the lava did.

Wreg's discomfort just kept on rising, but Striosserk didn't seem to notice. He'd always been more brash that the rest of them, jumping into battle. The only thing that kept him from dragging the rest of them into an early grave was his training. Wreg often pitied those that met him before he joined the Force. If he remembered correctly, Striosserk always talked about them in the past tense.

They stopped as they saw an ajar door before them. No one left doors ajar, especially not in Haou's castle. Both of them readied their duel disks as they slowly approached the room. Striosserk up front and Wreg in the back. Striosserk neared the door, moving in a way that made the clinking of his armor nonexistent. He carefully peeked into the room. Every second felt like an hour until Striosserk gave the all clear.

"No one is inside," Striosserk said as he opened the door wider.

It was a simple room, as sparse as the rest of this part of the castle. A simple stone desk and chair the only furniture inside. On the desk were cleaning supplies as well as...Haou's...duel disk? Wreg entered the room cautiously, Striosserk right beside him. As they approached the table it became obvious why Haou's duel disk needed cleaning. It was covered in blood and little chunks of flesh that covered part of the table as well as most of the chair. It was a miracle Haou's deck was completely untouched.

"It looks like whoever was tasked to clean it ran off," Wreg said.

"Sure does."

"Should we finish the job?"

Striosserk blinked at him. "What? Why would you think that?"

"Well, we can't just leave it like that, right? If Haou finds out about this, he'll-"

"I don't give a shit about what he'd do to us!"

Wreg sucked in a sharp breath.

"Until we find Cilaz I'm not going to follow a single command of that crazy bastard and if he thinks differently then he can kiss my ass!"

Wreg hated to admit that a part of him felt the same way, but even so... He glanced over to the duel disk only to find it staring right at Striosserk. A warning was already on his tongue when Striosserk exploded. A mixture of blood and flesh scattered over the room and Wreg. Yet most of it disappeared into nothingness, as if eaten by an invisible beast.

Wreg's heartbeat was loud in his ears as he looked back at the disk with wide open eyes. It seemed satisfied with itself if the slowly rotating blades were anything to go on. His gaze moved to the blood on it. He swallowed. Maybe they had already found Cilaz. Wreg's body started to shake. His body told him to run away as far as he could get, but his mind was stronger. He'd be dead before he reached the door.

So he walked the other way, directly towards it. It stilled as he approached it. The lone golden eye - so very much like Haou's in colour - was fixated on him. It looked at him with such an intensity that it might as well be looking right through his flesh and into his very soul. The shaking got worse as he stopped in front of the table, looking down at the one that held his fate.

"I will clean you if you allow me to."

For a moment it didn't react and Wreg could already imagine it ripping him apart as it had with the other's. But instead it returned to lazily rotating its blades. Wreg took it as a yes and reached for the cleaning supplies. He didn't sit down in the chair that was still very much occupied by Cilaz. He stood and did his best to ignore the fact that Cilaz was also what he wiped off the duel disk.

It showed clear amusement at his shaking hands as he removed pieces of his comrade of many years. But at least had enough sense to hold still as he got to cleaning its blades. He didn't want to think about what would happen if his fingers got caught up in the rotation. He'd seen how fast it could go.

Once Wreg was done he set the supplies back down and watched as it rotated happily, but still looked at him expectantly. He knew exactly want it wanted. "You want me to bring you to Haou, don't you?"

It did a full turn on that one.

Wreg looked down at himself, still covered in Striosserk's guts. He reached for the cleaning supplies once more. Thankfully, the duel disk allowed him to clean himself. Maybe it only did so so he wouldn't dirty Haou's rooms, but he was fine with that. Whatever kept him alive was fine. More than fine. Great even. He was used to his hands shaking by that point do it took him less time than he would've expected before he was cleaned.

He swallowed the lump in his throat and gingerly picked up the duel disk. It clearly loved the arrangement. He carried it deeper into the castle. Down the hall and up the massive stone steps to the set of rooms Haou loved to spend time in. The highest tower that gave a perfect view of his army and the surrounding lands he had already conquered.

Wreg was too aware of how much his body was shaking. How every single step cost as much strength as traveling a day on foot. How even though Haou wasn't even looking at him and was unarmed, he was still the one feeling like pray. How the wind sounded like the screams of thousands of souls crying out in pain.

Once close enough, far too close for comfort, he lowered himself down to his knees and held the duel disk out. He cursed his shaking hands as Haou looked at him. Emotionless golden eyes burning into him. He could only look away when a card slipped from the top of the deck. Wreg hastily picked it up. It was Elemental HERO Neos. Only it was coated in darkness like no other he had seen ever before. He quickly placed it back on top of the deck.

Haou held out his arm wordlessly. Wreg raised the duel disk over it and let it do the rest, something it was all too happy to do. It strapped itself the the armored arm and rotated its blades around at and uncomfortably fast pace. Haou looked it over quickly. Once satisfied with what he found, his gaze wandered outside the window once more.

Taking that as his clue to leave, Wreg bowed deeply before he hurried from the room. He didn't dare look back even once as he all but ran out of the castle. The further away he got from Haou the less his body was shaking. Every step meant he was closer to Ios, closer to being free from the madness inside the castle walls. He'd rather face every single rebel on his own than ever share a room with Haou again.

The castle became less empty as he neared the exit. Monsters just going on their daily lives, unaware of the monster strapped to their king's arm. A monstrous disk for a monstrous man. How fitting.

He reached the place where they had agreed to meet up. Ios was still waiting with their rides. He looked as impatient as ever, ready to storm into the castle to see what took them so long. He would've been searching for them until his death.

Ios noticed him coming closer. A frown on his face. "What took you so long? We're to rejoin Skull Bishop immediately!"

Wreg couldn't answer. He was no idea if he could ever explain what just happened.

"And where are Cilaz and Striosserk? Don't tell me they're slacking again," Ios sneered as he looked deeper into the castle.

Wreg swallowed the lump in his throat. "They won't be joining us."

"Fine. We're better off without them slowing us down anyway. Come, we wasted too much time as it is," Ios said as he handed Wreg the reins of his own ride.

It would be a quiet one without Striosserk and Cilaz. Wreg would miss them dearly, but for now he just wanted to get as far away from Haou as possible while being part of his army.

#goblin elite force #haou’s duel disk #haou #whumptober2019 #no.2 #graphic violence #major character death #death #yugiotober19 #theyuugimutou #my fic

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zimuse · 5 years

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All of my issues with S8 of Voltron

So. Firstly, the show is always brilliantly animated and I deeply appreciate their attention to detail. But I have WAY MORE issues than anything else, and I’m not at all happy or content with how it ended. So let me go ahead and list my gripes with the eighth season, in no particular order: 1) That whole thing with Allura violently forcing her memories on Zarkon. What the actual fuck, dude? I don’t care what Zarkon has done; this was clearly, visibly, not the same Zarkon they have been dealing with – a Zarkon who is not corrupted by quintessence, who is bewildered by what’s going on, has no clue what the hell anyone is talking about, no recollection, knowledge or memory. And she just fucking assaulted him? Moral issues aside, how do you know that that’s not going to break him and turn him into the Zarkon you do know? Oh, right, consequences; I forgot, we never think about those. And I know she’s got a lot of anger, but literally no one in the group reacted?! Not even his fellow paladins that have been trapped in this same state with him? Real heroes, guys. Bravo! 2) Zarkon calling his wife a “psychopath”. Excuse the fuck out of you, sir. She’s not a psychopath - she is doing what she believes needs to be done to get her family back. And after everything she’s been through, do I blame her? Hell no. Her driving force, her only motivation, is her family. With Zarkon dead, her focus went to her son, and she quite literally ripped through time and space to bring him back. No, I really don’t think that qualifies as a psychopath. Using what’s basically portrayed as his corpse to control the Sincline though, that’s another story but I’ll get to that later. Anyway. Check your privilege, sir. 3) Allura “seeing the good in Honerva” like she saw “the good in everyone”. Where the hell was this in the confrontation with Lotor, who she supposedly loved? Because apparently this doesn’t at all extend to him. Honerva, as much as I adore her, did so much worse than Lotor ever could be accused of. Yes, Allura did admit in the end that Lotor sought peace but, well, it was well past the point where it mattered. Seriously. He supposedly died screaming, alone, and ended up a fused quintessence robot... Zombie thing. But Honerva? She’s Altean. So she gets off easy during the actual confrontation and on screen. 4) I HAVE SO MANY ISSUES WITH THE LIMITED AMOUNT OF LOTOR IN THIS SEASON. Yes, that deserved to be in all caps. Okay, we saw a glimpse of his body, and I get that in the narrative we're supposed to believe that he's dead. Well, as the weirdly fused robot zombie. Does anyone else have a problem with this shit? BECAUSE I FUCKING DO. The quintessence field was literally described as life itself - how in the actual fuck are you going to tell me he died, surrounded by the essence of life itself? And also, yes, we saw a glimpse of his "corpse". There's no proof that it was actually a corpse. We saw the back side of him. Until I see a FULL BODY FRONT VIEW of it, I do not believe he's dead. Whoever made this be a thing... -flips off- 5) BUT if we are to accept that he's dead... The paladins literally murdered Lotor and no one, save Honerva, even stopped to acknowledge it. And honestly? This tears at my heart. 6) Was there a reason they used the name Merla for that one Altean at the end? I didn’t see any similarities between these two characters other than betrayal. Why even include it? 7) Speaking of betrayal, is this an affliction most Alteans suffer from? Because Coran is literally the only exception to this that we’ve seen. And supposedly Romelle, but I still don’t trust her, so I don’t include her. Fuck Romelle. 8) Keith as spokesperson for the Galra and Galra rep? Why would the remaining Galra with any authority listen to someone who doesn’t even look Galra? Randomly cheering at his speech? What is this. I can see his Krolia and Kolivan being the representatives and all, but why weren’t THEY the ones giving the speech? Oh yeah, I know why. The next point. 9) Oh, and about that speech, it was word for word literally what Lotor said to the Galra once up on a time (in s5, I believe?). Add insult to injury, why don’t you. 10) The Altean marks on Lance at the end, how does this even work? I thought it was genetic, purely Altean thing. Is it not? Can anyone acquire them? Does this mean you’re considered Altean now, Lance? WHY on earth is this a thing and why isn’t it explained? - EDIT: After thinking about this more and referring back to the series itself... I can conclude that the Altean marks are as magical as the race that is born with them. Think about it, these marks fundamentally tell you something about that character. Allura’s and Coran’s are small, just on their cheeks, and are smooth. They don’t have edges. Honerva, who has been corrupted, had elongated, jagged marks. But when she was “redeemed”, the long jagged marks we’ve seen throughout all eight seasons (after being corrupted), her marks shrink, becoming her old smooth marks post-corruption. And Lotor? His marks aren’t as long as his mothers’, but they were a tad jagged - signifying that at his core, he was a good person, yet he’d been touched by darkness and that darkness was a part of him. The Prince was born with the same unique energy signature that his parents were corrupted/killed/reanimated with. I do think that the marks take on the personality, for lack of better word, to match the individual. It’s visibly obvious that these things are magical in some way, but does that justify the “ability” to mark someone else with them? This could be up to interpretation. I don’t think so, though. It seemed like a random thing to toss in. So kind of like the Balmara (which I’ll get into in another point), if it had been seen previously in another portion of the series, I’d have accepted it as something that Alteans could do. As it stands in the current narrative, I don’t think it should be a thing, nor was it meant to be a thing in the original draft. It was supposed to be Lotor in Lance’s position, not actually Lance. Thus, I feel that scene was supposed to be the reappearance of Lotor’s own Altean marks. Not the gift of Lance’s. 11) Altea and Daibazaal came back... Why? That tells me it’s not actually their reality that they returned to. But then that raises several questions, so what do? If it’s because eliminating the rift undid everything associated with it, then that should have restored Alfor, Zarkon, Lotor, Honerva and literally everyone else involved with that too. Which I would have totally accepted. 12) Sooooo killing Lotor essentially not only led to the loss of millions of lives throughout the universe, but ultimately led to the erasing of all but one reality. And no one addressed the Voltron team’s hand in this? Seriously? 13) “Join the Coalition.” “What’s the alternative.” “There is no alternative.” That... That sounds like conquest to me. Thanks for the options, broski. 14) The whole way they dealt with Lahn. He brought up some excellent points, about Voltron/Allura having everything handed to them, but I guess the power of teamwork and friendship managed to give him a sudden bout of amnesia and sign up for the Coalition. ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ Way to slap a bandaid on that, guys. I hate it when writers do this. And if I ever do this? Slap me and tell me to fix it. 15) The paladins literally leaving everyone they help undefended, and then being shocked that those places have fallen to whatever villain is the focus at that time. Like, Olkarion? What were they thinking? As what was arguably the central nexus of their forces, possessing the most advanced technology they have access to, it should have been the number one priority to make sure it didn’t fall to enemy hands. But that makes way too much sense too, doesn't it? I want Shiro back as the Black Lion. Or Lotor to have returned to be the Black Lion. He did use the Black Bayard to kill Zarkon after all, and that was never revisited for... Reasons. That could have been a fantastic plot point to show that Lotor was the next Black Paladin. He’d certainly make a better one than Keith. 16) Speaking of - they never even checked up on the Olkari citizens that evacuated. Why? Was this done off-camera and just never mentioned? Because that seems really important to know WHERE your highly advanced tech/weapon makers are. Are they okay? Did they find another planet before their provisions ran out? Why are all casualties and losses either not mentioned at all or are/were glossed over? 17) Everyone treating Lotor like an immoral murderer when he was anything but. I swear. The writers present him as sympathetic and provide ample reasonable arguments on his behalf, both in show and in interviews, etc., but then proceed to have every other character treat him as though he’s a monster. Why tf are you having everyone demonize him, when you show us that it’s not true and you’re not going to bring him back for the redemption arc he deserved, and gave him the chance to explain himself? All that’s doing is affecting my opinion of the other characters lmao. 18) The paladins seriously took 5 episodes to come to the conclusion that, yes, it is Honerva that’s responsible for all of this new shenanigans. I’m honestly not sure why they’re surprised. We all knew that she went SOMEWHERE. She was the wife of Zarkon, and Lotor’s mother. She made several adversaries that Voltron struggled to face. She was the alchemic force driving the Galra Empire, and no one thought, “Hmm, we should probably keep tabs on that, she’s dangerous”? And then took another 6 episodes to figure out her motivations? There’s only one conclusion to draw from this: They’re dumb. 19) There are several opportunities taken to go to great lengths about how it’s not what you are but who you are that counts, that it doesn’t matter what you have done in the past and you can always grow from it and deserve a chance. I’m thinking specifically of the Acxa/Veronica scene, but there were a couple of other instances. I guess that we just don’t extend that courtesy to Lotor. He literally got the shit end of the stick from all directions and all of the characters are just pouring salt in the wound. -rubs temples and fumes- 20) Acxa, what the actual fuck? Lotor using their rage as half breeds? What. He never, ever let them go on a rampage, and always emphasized no killing. Zethrid and Ezor were the ones always portrayed as really bloodthirsty, but all of a sudden Ezor is the one who can’t take the anger anymore and wants out, and wants Zethrid to let go of her rage? Ezor, who was so eager to bleed and torture? Lolwat.

21) Why were there two episodes dedicated to trans-versing Honerva's mind? They were completely and utterly useless. The plot did not move forward with it, Voltron and the Paladins didn't bond stronger or learn new moves/techniques that could have helped them in their final battle with Honerva - nothing. The only thing I got from it was how much more badass Honerva actually is. She trapped SOULS in her mind and kept them prisoner. That’s terrifying and cool, but did we really need to know that? Not really. What happened to the original Paladins could have been covered in a single episode, in a different fashion. So the "dark entity" and the connection to Honerva? That didn't need to be in the narrative at all. You could argue that without it, they couldn't have saved the souls of the original paladins, but they would have been saved at the end any fucking way when Honerva and Allura sacrificed themselves to fix all the shit. Sooo. Thanks for wasting 40 minutes of our time. 22) So in episode 13, when they're chasing Honerva through the holes in dimensions... And she drains Voltron (and the paladins by extension) of energy, we see the hole CLOSE. Okay? We saw it close. That means they're stuck there forever. Done. Finito, they no longer exist - none of them, not from that dimension. Then we went to Honerva getting what she wanted at last - except she didn't. Lotor outright rejects her. I do not blame him at all for being angry if that dimension's version of his mom was dead and he's still grieving, but it was alluded to that it's been a couple years since she died. We see Zarkon protect his son in this dimension, and that he’s uncorrupted. Thus, we can assume that Honerva wasn’t corrupted either, and was never abusive towards Lotor. And he just... Didn't accept her? I know that Lotor is extremely perceptive, even as a kid, but why? If she wasn’t abusive towards him in that dimension, why does he immediately reject her? More over, his rejection seems to be the last straw - which feels... Odd, because it feels as if she’s heard it prior and that was the nail in the coffin that said “fuck it, destroy everything”. It would have made more narrative sense if Lotor had been alive, and in his own redemption arc, to tell “the witch” that his mother was dead - and that is why this dimension’s version of him saying the same thing struck such a nerve. But what bugs me the most is that Voltron came out of nowhere and continued the battle. The gateway into that dimension closed. We all saw it close. The dimension they were IN dissolved completely, so HOW did they get there?! How are they not dead at that point? This should NOT have been a thing. I’d have accepted it if they had just barely made it through the hole, but no. This is just another Dues Ex Machina, and I’m not having it. I'd have been absolutely fine with the series ending with Honerva in the alternate universe with her family, having to work to earn kid!Lotor's affection and recognition that she's his mother. That could have easily been worked on. A kid is a kid, no matter what. He'd have warmed up to her eventually. I think. And in that alternate universe, Lotor and Allura would have grown up (sort-of, she appears much older - at least a teenager at that point?) together, and more than likely still would have fallen in-love. With his father and mother there. Honerva would have had everything. 23) Did we actually need to go as big as the multi-verses being threatened? Nah. As cool as as they were, time travel would have been much easier for Honerva. And would have made a lot more sense, all things considered. If she went back to before she and her hubby were corrupted, she could have stopped ALL OF THIS SHIT from happening to begin with. THAT would have been a better ending, to have done time-travel and to fast-forward a couple years to seeing how everyone ended up. Allura and Lotor, married. ANd the rest of the cast? With the same ending as they had in the narrative, given that the original paladins either stepped down as Paladins of Voltron and let new people succeed them, or having never been involved with the plot as a whole BECAUSE the original paladins never died. I can understand that this would feel like a huge cop out, and that not everyone fancies time travel stories these days. There have been quite a number of them throughout the years. It would’ve worked here though, but I don’t think that was the point. I think the point of going to another dimension is that Honerva didn’t want to change the past - she wanted to start over, and leave the reality that she helped to fuck over.

24) What was with all of the Dues ex Machinas!? There were at least 3 or 4. That’s too many across a single episode, or even two. Like ZOOM, suddenly the Balmera were there. When did that become a thing? If it had been shown earlier in the series that they could do that, I’d have accepted it. But to bring that in so suddenly? No, the writers pulled that outta their asses. 25) And let’s not forget that Honerva used that one giant Balmera as a battery when Merla knocked out one of the towers. That mighta been a lotta crystals, but the power difference between several of those crystals and the energy of entire planets that had who even knows how much life on them, astounds and bothers me. Yeah, the crystals are used to power ships and all, but really? Those things have more energy than six planets? I need this in waaaay more detail somewhere, because until it is, this was also a Dues Ex Machina.

26) One of the two biggest issues I have with season 8 is Allurance - not because I’m against the ship nor because I dislike Lance’s character. My issue is with how it was portrayed. If you compare season 8′s Allurance with season 5 and early season 6′s Lotura, you’ll seen just how drastically different they are. We see Allura at her happiest with Lotor than we do in any other season. With Lance? She doesn’t look happy. That same spark just isn’t there. Its like she’s forcing herself to move on, and it just doesn’t work. I mean, consider the episode with the Dark Entity and how it primarily assumed Lotor’s form. She misses and longs for him, and the vision of her in the Altean robeast draining her beloved planet of quint to save it was - and I full heartedly believe this because otherwise it’s randomly there in the narrative - for Allura to feel and understand what it was like to be in Lotor’s shoes. And Lance? Lance doesn’t particularly look really happy either, honestly. Frankly, the boy looks miserable. More over, the fact that Allura has rejected him for six seasons only to sorta flirt with him in s7 and then date him in s8... Really bugs me. That’s akin to sending a message that if you persue a woman long enough, she’ll eventually cave and accept a man’s romantic feelings. No. That is not a message to send to kids ages 7 and up. Add to the fact that Lance has had thoughts of Allura clinging to his leg while he’s proclaimed as the winner and everyone is looking up to him, and that he tells Allura that he’s “great at winning prizes” which essentially hints that he thinks of her as a prize that he’s won - and this isn’t only disturbing, it’s outright revolting and sexist. If I were a parent, this is not the kind of message I’d want my child to have. Period. 27) But the most disturbing thing about season 8, and the reason it was essentially ruined, was the fate of Lotor. There were several moments throughout s8 where he could have been there. And we can clearly see in the closing scene where the lions are flying out into the cosmos that it’s not just Allura’s outline in the stars. She’s clearly with Lotor, as if he was supposed to have been there the whole time and was supposed to share her choice. Season 8 had the potential of being the most beautiful redemption story tied into a Heroine’s journey that I’ve ever seen. But instead, we see an abuse survivor that only wanted to do good, a victim of neglect that longed to be loved... Get the most graphic death in the series with absolutely no chance to redeem himself. All of his plot points are left forgotten and untouched. We’re only given more of his abusive backstory to make him a more sympathetic character. He was never given a real chance to explain his half of the story concerning the Colony; we never see the point that he killed Narti come back up between him and his generals at all, almost as though it never happened to begin with; his potential as the Black Paladin, shown when he used the Black Bayard to kill his father, is left completely unexplored; and being as he wasn’t given a redemption arc, we don’t see him get to have another chance at the White Lion trial and succeed. What we are given is the desecration of the animus, the death of a dark youth character, and the light youth Allura thus being unable to complete her heroine’s journey. The disturbing message that this sends to children, particularly to children that are/were victims of abuse themselves, is completely unacceptable. I stand with @leakinghate and @felixazrael and the others on this point. This is not the story that was written originally, and we see that in the choppiness of certain episodes, as well as the conclusion with both Allura and Lotor in the stars. Legendary Defender was always meant to be their story. I don’t personally believe that the writers who put so much thought, so much care, so much love into these characters would write them to end up as we see them in the season 8 we were given. If you haven’t already, please sign the petition to release/explain the original season eight.

#vld #vld s8 #vld s8 spoilers #spoilers ahoy #All of my issues with this season #But I will probably find more #all of the dues ex machinas #Originally I only had like #20 points but they just kept coming #oops?#Lotor deserved better #allura deserved better #Lotura forever

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