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The Castlevania: Nocturne discourse is stupid

It’s not that Castlevania Nocturne is a perfect show. Not by any means. It has a lot to criticize.

But it also has a lot to praise and grapples with historical AND still relevant issues unapologetically in a way you rarely see in media.

And yet discourse has been so, so stupid.

Why are there gays?

People angry about gay characters, as if vampires aren’t inherently gay as hell. Look at them! Do vampires scream “tough, gender conforming dude bros”? Or Christian good boys?

No! They’ve always been gender bending, rich and bitchy little deviants who will fuck and eat anything.

Annette bad!

People upset a black lady character exists and is allowed to be angry after having escaped literal chattel slavery.

Even though she isn’t some pandering palette swap, she is organically relevant to a story set in the French Revolution dealing with themes of oppression and class.

Richter is a weak soy boy bitch! The downfall of masculinity! Other fragile bullshit!

People upset our protagonist man has realistic PTSD from watching his mother be violently killed right in front of him as a small child.

He represses himself, goes with the flow, and doesn’t lead for himself. Still he is brave and skilled until he is triggered and set on a path to rediscover his agency and true potential. A story of overcoming not with physical strength alone, but with spiritual and mental strength as well.

What do they call such a fleshed our character?

“A little bitch who needs women to boss him around”.

I just…?

Is media literacy THAT friggin dead?

Is it really?

Or is everyone only half-watching the show while on their phones?

I can’t even begin to explain how demoralizing it is to see so many people so upset about mere aesthetics while completely missing the point.

In conclusion…

Nocturne’s pacing is whack and the 3D animation can be choppy at times, which is all the more jarring when the animation gets smooth and gorgeous. Almost as if they’re skimping out on some of those other scenes to save budget for the big set pieces.

Still worth the watch.

There’s an Aztec vampire that can turn into a giant feathered snake and is generally against all factions and just wants to live his best life and I never thought my werewolf-named self would relate to a vampire of all things, but I love him.

Sorry, Richter.

because you would do the same

Genre/Tropes: You already knoooow it's hurt/comfort!!! Panic attacks!!! The whole shebang!!!!!

Summary: You're having a panic attack in the school bathroom, and Ortho finds you. Good thing Idia installed all that helpful medical software, huh?

Author's Comments: Hello this is my anxiety disorders having ass writing about panic attacks again!! There's a lot of self deprecation happening here so be warned if that could make you uncomfortable. Also descriptions of panic attacks obviously AJSHDJAS I tried my best to put the feeling into words. THIS IS PLATONIC.

~~~~~

Everyone knows that the ideal place to have a panic attack would be the bathroom. It’s usually pretty empty during classes, and there was no way anyone could see you when the stalls were blocking their view. Your only concern was what the people on campus with sensitive hearing would pick up, but since the classrooms were farther down the hall, that shouldn’t be an issue.

However, you failed to account for the singular robot wandering around campus.

“Hello? Prefect?” Ortho chirped, the bathroom door slamming shut behind him with a dramatic thud, “Is everything alright?”

You immediately silenced your hyperventilating as best you could, curling in on yourself. Your eyes were wide as you watched the stall door nervously, praying he’d give up and leave you alone. As he shuffled around just a little ways away from you, you realized that no, he wasn’t just going to leave because you didn’t respond. Ortho was always dead set on helping people, so all you could do to not burden someone with your problems was to clenched your eyes shut and wished for him to go away even harder.

“Prefect, your heart rate is abnormally high. You’re exhibiting higher respiration rates and shortness of breath. My systems are telling me you’re either in a panicked state or you’ve done some intense exercise.” Ortho mused, “If anything is wrong, you should tell me! I want to use my various medical functions to help you!”

Great Seven, you felt like throwing up. There was too much going on in your head and Ortho’s voice was only stabbing at what was left of your mental stability. You knew he only wanted to help, but there was literally nothing he could do when it was hot under your skin and your brain felt like it was getting doused in icy water and your stomach was seizing and cramping with every breath you took. You rubbed anxiously at your thighs, chest heaving with each repressed, shuddering breath you let out.

“Prefect, it really doesn’t sound like you’re doing well! Are you perhaps too weak to open the door?” Ortho asked, “Commencing door breakdown program!”

“Please don’t.” you choked out, “Please, please don’t.”

“Hm, would you like me to try a different method?” he hummed thoughtfully, “I can start a breathing exercise program, or I can take the door off of it’s hinges instead of shooting my laser-”

“Please just leave me alone.” you begged, “I just want to be alone.”

A moment of silence.

“I can’t do that. Your vitals are still irregular.” he mused, a loud clunking sound from the other side of the door only worsening your unease, “I’m obligated to help those who show signs of distress. That’s what my brother programmed me to do!”

You could feel your breath speeding up again as the sound of a drill filled the bathroom. Ortho wasn’t kidding - he was actually unscrewing the door. Panicked, you pulled the sleeves of your hoodie over your hands and dabbed at your eyes. Man, why did everyone in NRC have to butt their noses into other people’s business? Ortho was sweet, but you really just wanted to be alone right now. It wasn’t that hard to understand.

The door tilted towards you as the last screw was released, and you jerked back as it began to fall onto you. A small robotic hand caught the edges of it, pulling it back and turning it towards the sinks. A cheerful Ortho set the door down on the ground with another loud thud, his hovering replacing the irritating drilling noises with a gentle white noise.

“Now, what’s wrong? I can help you!” he chirped, zipping over to you with wide eyes and hands clasped in front of him.

You said nothing, ducking your head in hopes that he would just give up. With your red eyes and dry mouth and heaving chest, he’d be able to pick up every single visual cue that you’d been struggling with. Weak, weak, weak.

“Your eyes seem red! Were you crying?” Ortho hummed as he stalled for a moment, which you could only assume was him gathering information, “The inflection in your voice indicates that you are emotionally distressed. Were you having a panic attack?”

You shook your head frantically, lips screwed shut. The sharp pain of nails digging into your thighs was the only thing keeping your swirling whirlwind of thoughts from causing another round of hyperventilating. The soft whirring of Ortho’s hardware felt like incessant screeching in your ears as you tried to gulp in air.

Weak, weak, weak!

“You’re not weak!” Ortho insisted, as if he could read your mind (and man, you hoped he couldn’t), “You’re really strong! Can you count with me, Prefect? Do you think you can do that?”

Can’t even handle a panic attack by yourself! No wonder you were so useless!

“In…out! In…out!”

Twisted Wonderland would be better off without you, you were only here because there was no place with you back in your world. Nobody here needed you either. EVer since you came people have been Overblotting time and time again. It’s all your fault. You don’t even have magic…how long were you going to spend dragging Ace and Deuce into your messes? What about Grim? He would be better off on his own-

“Prefect?”

Great Seven, you couldn’t be more useless. There was nothing you could do right. Nothing. You ended up worrying Ortho too, and now he’s distracted trying to help you. Get up. Get up!

“It’s fine, Ortho. I’m sure you have better things to take care of right now. I’ll be okay.”

Except you couldn’t speak through your sobs.

Useless.

A cold breeze brushed against your warm, tear striped face. For a moment, your brain felt like it’d been dumped in cold water as your breath stuttered.

“Please take a second to cool off! Drink some water, too! We can try breathing again in a minute.” Ortho smiled, pushing a plastic water bottle into your lap, “Please drink. It doesn’t have to be a lot.”

You hiccupped as you brought your hands to the water bottle, fingers shaking like leaves in a hurricane. The breeze you felt was actually a fan Ortho had produced from his arm, a function that would have made you laugh in any other circumstance. Ortho said nothing as you unscrewed the cap (it seemed like Ortho had already opened it for you, the saint) and drank. The water felt like sludge as it slid down your dry throat. Your brain still felt all hot and prickly, but your breathing had calmed down just a bit.

“Good job! Do you think you can breathe with me now!” Ortho cheered, eyes crinkling in the corners as he smiled.

Why was he so proud of you? You couldn’t even do the bare minimum.

“Ready? In…out! In…out!” he chanted, coaxing you to keep breathing with gentle head rubs. “That’s it! Good job!”

Your brow furrowed at the praise, a sinking feeling in your gut building with each kind word. You shouldn’t be getting praise for doing the bare minimum. What you were doing wasn’t impressive at all.

“You’re working through the panic really well, Prefect.” Ortho hummed, “Just keep breathing like that. Do you think you could point out one object of each of the six colors of the rainbow in this room for me?”

Of course he would have more coping mechanisms.

‘You’re…blue.” you choked out, staring down at the floor, “Um…my socks are red, the soap dispenser has orange soap, the…door is green, my bag has a purple pencil in the side pocket, and…your eyes are yellow.”

“You’re right! How do you think you’re feeling right now?” Ortho tilted his head downward, trying to catch your eye, “Your heart rate seems to be gradually slowing to a normal rate.”

“Um…I’m sorry for taking up your time.” you apologized, fingers wrapping tighter around the bottle, “I didn’t mean to distract you from whatever you were doing. I’m sorry.”

“Oh, you don’t have to apologize! As long as you feel better, that’s all I need!” Ortho chirped, dropping a small hard candy in your lap, “I hope your day gets better, Prefect! Please tell me if you need anything.”

“Uh huh. Sure.” you mumbled, guilt crushing you like a brick.

“Prefect…you would do the same for me and my brother.” Ortho patted you on the head again, and it was only when he started massaging your scalp that you noticed the absence of the cool air being blown your way, “So don’t sweat it. I know you think it’s different when it's you, but it's not. I promise! You deserve a safe space just as much as the next person, magic or not.”

You could feel tears bubbling up in your eyes again as you nodded, far too touched to say anything else.

Fic Recommendations: DeadAlive

So I really like post-DeadAlive fics. Not because I’m a big resurrection story fan (Jesus / Osiris stans, no offense) but because I can’t get enough of angst, repressed feelings and baby daddy reveal drama. I am going to post a version of my very own later this week. Meanwhile, I read a lot of these, so I thought I would share some recs. Here are a few of my favorites.

Slow Returns - o666666  You just don’t know how often I reread this. I love it so, so much. This one puts the emphasis on Scully’s trauma, and it’s so angsty, and it’s so sweeeeeet. I tear up every time.

DeadAlive AU - @markwatneyandenesemble I always say I actually think this should probably be called Three Words Canon Divergence or something, but whatever it is, I love it. The premise is two specific changes to canon. When Mulder comes back from the dead: (1) he has memories only to 1996 and (2) Scully isn’t visibly pregnant yet.

Author Skuls seems to feel about about this subgenre like I do, because she seems to have written a lot of post-DeadAlive, and I’m not complaining. Here’s a little DeadAlive Skuls tasting trio:

the smaller odysseys - skuls (@ghostbustermelanieking)  An AU DeadAlive fic in which Doggett convinces Skinner to keep Mulder’s resurrection a secret from Scully for longer. This ends like awwwwwwwww.

ashes and dust - skuls (@ghostbustermelanieking)  A largely canon-compliant DeadAlive / Three Words deep dive.

inches between them - skuls (@ghostbustermelanieking)  Another Skuls fic on this subject, also exceptionally sweet.

Doctor, Copper, Sailer, Corpse - Scarlet Baldy This is a series of first person vignettes from Scully POV. Extremely angsty and a little painful, with a very self-destructive version of Mulder here, but ultimately a hopeful ending. 

Ray of Light - OnlyTheInevitable (@gaycrouton) Honest conversation, then hot pregnancy sex—a Three Words fic we can all get behind. Which I think is actually one of the suggested positions for pregnancy sex.

Words, Words, Words - Circe Invidiosa (@invidiosa ) I’m not much of a Doggett fan, but I love this fic about Doggett breaking things down for Mulder. This is subtly written and moving— a heartbreaking Mulder characterization, in my opinion. home run - kittenscully Another great “Doggett gets involved” fic. Also very moving. Apparently this is how I like my Doggett. The Laws of Coming and Going - Buckingham A gentle Mulder-centric fic focused on his good intentions and slow moves back towards connecting with Scully. Very in-character and sweet. Hour of Lead - DarlaBlack (@sigritandtheelves) This is an excellent read — but watch out for the bleak, tear-out-your-heart ending. It's only painful because it’s canon compliant, so warning: you have to remember what happens with Scully’s longed-for miracle baby in canon. Waaaaah. So much angst. Untitled - @wtfmulder I see you, you wildly touching little drabble. This is set between Three Words and Empedocles, and it’s meant to explain the seeming change in Mulder’s attitude, and why does this make me cry?

What have I missed? Y’all have other post-DeadAlive fics you like? Have you written any? SEND THEM MY WAY.

48

Back to Gideon - Third skull, here comes Ianthe.

Her hair and skin were colourless; that pallid face brightened to see me. “Harry,” she said. Harrow, she was genuinely delighted to see you. The smile on that thin white face was real. “Harry, you’re—” I moved closer and totally fucking ruined her day. “Alive, bitch,” I said. That expression hardened like it had been dropped in quick-set concrete. [...] Ianthe flicked a lock of goo-stained hair over her shoulder, leaned against the kitchen wall, and said: “Oh—you.”

Some kind of plan has just been ruined, methinks.

There would be a goddamn reckoning. Nonagesimus, I was going to reck her. I said: “Do you want your ass kicked now, or do you want your ass kicked later, or both?” “Please, let’s address this like gentlewomen,” said Ianthe, without much hope.

Gideon, I fucking missed you.

“This can’t be happening.” “She’s not even into you, okay? It’s just the bones. She’s into bones.”

Gideon, I FUCKING MISSED YOU!!!!!

This better not be too short-lived, I really need more of Lyctor!Cav!Gideon in my life.

“You’re certain that Mercy tried to kill Harrow?” she said, after a moment. “Yeah.” “But that doesn’t— Why would she—?” “Do not fucking ask me for information. I could not be more lost right now.”

Oh Gideon. You've always been so adorably clueless. Have I mentioned that I've fucking missed you???

"Why did you ascend to be a Lyctor?” “Ultimate power—and posters of my face.” Fair.

Hahahahaha. Oh Ianthe.

But he had stopped dead, and he was looking at us. At your face. He looked at my eyes in your face in the same way the other Lyctor had, and any colour in his own drained straight away. [...] Augustine looked at us like we were the last thing he’d ever see. “John,” he breathed. And: “Joy.” And then—he fucking legged it.

What's got Augustine so goddamn scared? Hello???

At this point I'm halfway wondering if there's anyone who isn't plotting something against someone here. Gideon seems to be foiling a lot of plans here today.

“Hurry up. I have a letter for you,” said Ianthe. Harrow, it was in your handwriting. She handed me a fat, bulging envelope with your handwriting, and it said To be given to Gideon Nav, and I felt—strange. Time softened as I held it, and I didn’t even care about the barely repressed mirthful scorn on the other girl’s face.

Oh, this is one of the letters that Harrow couldn't know about!!! What does it say what does it say???

The letter was wrapped around a black, folded-up bunch of angles: smoked glass, thin black frames, mirrored lenses. A little bend in one arm, but otherwise—you’d kept my sunglasses. [...] ONE FLESH, ONE END.

Oh yay the sunglasses!!

And oh damn you past Harrow, you couldn't have written literally anything more enlightening??? Fuck!!!

Fuck one flesh, one end, Harrow. I already gave my flesh to you, and I already gave you my end. I gave you my sword. I gave you myself. I did it while knowing I’d do it all again, without hesitation, because all I ever wanted you to do was eat me. Which is, coincidentally, what your mother said to me last night.

I fucking missed you Gideon Nav!!!!!

And also, well, I'm glad we agree on Fuck One Flesh, One End.

She can’t love you. She can’t even try.” She said, way too carefully: “Oh, please, as though—” but I cut her off. “Don’t start the I was toying with her, mwah ha ha noise, because I won’t believe it. Your plan backfired, Tridentarius. You’ve got the sickness. I know the signs of Nonagesimitis. You were all lined up for a big hot injection of Vitamin H.” Ianthe scrubbed at her forehead briefly with her bone hand. “Really a corpse?” she said, with not totally believable carelessness.

Oh my god Ianthe. Oh my god Gideon. You're out here at the end of the world, and you're bonding over how you're both kinda in love with a girl who can never love you back. Oh my fucking god.

I died knowing you’d hate me for dying; but Nonagesimus, you hating me always meant more than anyone else in this hot and stupid universe loving me. At least I’d had your full attention.

I'm going to fucking cry.

now we are going to get out of my bedroom, and I am going to take you to Teacher.” The Emperor of the Nine Houses. The Necrolord Prime. I said, “No, thanks. I’m good.” “He needs to know. He can help you.” “I might lie down and see if this fixes itself,” I suggested. “Do you want Harrowhark to reclaim rightful ownership of her body, or not?” she asked reasonably.

Way too fucking reasonable. God can't help with this!!! You're taking Harrow's body to God so THE SLEEPER can take control of Harrow's body, and kill God.

That's probably, definitely what's happening here, and I really fucking hate it.

"what about fwhip's name in ashes? why is he called fail whip???? surely that's not his c-" brother you are never going to believe what i pulled off.

fwhip in ashes is Also Trans! this means he chose his own name as well and then basically told the court respect it or i'm kicking you out. and then he did. of course it'd be quite a Fwhip thing to have his first name as Fail but that's not it. basically he was extremely aware that the court that was held when he eventually became Count really, really did not want him in charge of the country. they were dead-set on having a boy rule, see, and Gem was in line, which was why she got the most lessons on court training and stuff. Also why she repressed so much shit. Their parents were absent in all but name and that place was not a good environment to raise a child. anyways when she left, the court basically blamed it all on Fwhip and went OH NO WHAT WILL WE DO THERES GONNA BE A GIRL IN POWER NOW THIS IS GOING TO GO HORRIBLY

fwhip: so hey lol guess what the nobility: what is it this time fwhip: turns out i was actually a guy the entire time! now you guys can stop fighting over if i'm fit to rule! the nobility: the nobility: you can't just do that fwhip: TOO LATE I CAN'T HEAR YOU OVER MY TBOY SWAG ALSO ALL OF THE TAILORS KNOW AND IM DONATING ALL OF MY SKIRTS AND DRESSES K BYEEEEEEEE

it did not go over very well, but that's a story for another day

so yeah fwhip chose his first name to be Fail because everyone expected him to fail. sounds morbid (and it sort of is) but it does get better when you realize he took on the name not as an acceptance of defeat but as proof that he was going to shove the court's expectations of them in their faces while simultaneously doing a great fucking job. Which he did.

as for the Whip part, the housekeeper/nanny that basically raised him and Gem in the absence of their mother and actually treated them like human beings always said that he was quick as a whip. which he was! so when he came out he came to her and went hey i'm changing my name do you mind if i take that thing you said about me and make it a part of my name and the keeper basically went its an honor also i am SO proud of you

(he also quickly gained the reputation of running the court with the crack of a (metaphorical) whip, which also helped the name settle in)

eventually, after two or three years of everyone knowing his name was Fail Whip, people started shortening it to fWhip because anyone with a shred of humanity about them really didn't want to call someone Fail to their face, even if it WAS his chosen name. fwhip was like yeah that's fair you can shorten it if you want and then they did and that is why his name is Like That. you're all welcome.

Title: Into The Light

Author: Mark Oshiro

Genre: Sci-fi? | Friendship | Romance | LGBTQ+

Content Warnings: Homophobia | Conversion Therapy | Abuse | Sexual Assault | Grooming

Overall Rating: 8.6/10

Personal Opinion: As always with Mark Oshiro, you can expect grim reality mixing with the most powerful kindness you’ve ever read about. This time, we venture into the world of a corrupt foster care system and grooming by religious zealots. It’s scary but absolutely worth reading about. Manny has been through hell. He lost his sister, he was abandoned, he’s been preyed on, but still he found some light in the form of a kind family, the Varelas. This journey that he takes us on is emotional and raw and it deserves to be brought into the light.

Do I Own This Book? Nope.

Spoilers Below For My Likes & Dislikes:

Likes:

- If nothing else, I found this very entertaining. The twist that Manny and Eli were once one and the same was pretty obvious but it was set up so well. Eli’s chapters were few and far in between at the start. He said he resembles Elena in his first chapter. And the big clue was when Carlos saw Eli in one of Deacon’s videos and thought it was Manny and yet Manny could not remember being in it. It’s wild. It’s crazy. Am I not entertained? I am. I thought it was some sort of repression or amnesia though, I was not anticipating Manny to have somehow split into two. That is so disturbing. I am so perturbed. It’s great.

- The kindness of the Varelas made me emotional at times. I mean, they were already living out of a van, driving around to find kids that were ejected from their church and providing all of them with means of living and I love that. But then they went out of their way to protect Manny, a stranger, from Stan, an old pervert. And then they proceeded to continue helping him for a whole month. I just love Monica and Ricardo so damn much. They protected Carlos too and I have so much respect for them. Even if they made their mistakes, they’re out here atoning in the best way possible.

- Manny’s reluctance to trust even the Varelas was totally reasonable. After everything he went through and after what he did to them (stealing their money and their son’s iPad), I get why he felt like he couldn’t stay with them. I’m glad that he changed and realized his sister was right about one thing. He does choose to be miserable. Not anymore. The ending, where he chose to be happy and chose Carlos’s family was just so sweet.

- Oh also, the other twist with Rakeem showing up in the end. Oh my god, for a second, I thought Rakeem was the dead body. I truly thought Eli was alive. It was written so well to make you think it was Rakeem because at this point, we had no idea Eli “came out” of Manny. We didn't know that supernatural shit was going on! So that twist was a gut punch and a great one.

- Manny having a crush on both Carlos and Ricardo is so hilarious and also so me-coded. I too would have a crush on my love interest and his dad. But the budding romance between Manny and Carlos was so sweet. I could feel the way they cared about each other in those little touches and night time conversations. And the way they could both relate to that feeling of abandonment but wanting to be close to each other anyway is so good. I love when touch-starved individuals find each other.

- It’s implied that Elena burns Reconciliation down to the ground and honestly? Good. I hope it never rises from the ashes again. I also hope that Deacon and the Sullivans had burned with it. God, they were so fucking creepy.

Dislikes:

- I’m going to be honest, I’m not sure how I feel about the supernatural aspect of this story. I mean, it’s cool and unexpected, don’t get me wrong, but it also felt wildly out of place. It reads like a CreepyPasta. And it’s also sort of glossed over? No one really questions it. I mean, the proof is right there I guess but like still, it’s a wild supernatural occurrence in a non-supernatural setting.

- Fuck Deacon and Lester and Stan and anyone else who preys on the most vulnerable. Children. It was disgusting to read about but unfortunately very real. 

- I’m also so disturbed by Diana and Elena. Diana for basically being a bystander and giving kids away to Deacon’s families with no proper background checks. And Elena for falling for all of Deacon’s bullshit so easily. Yes, she is a victim in this too, but my god, the way she did everything the Thompsons asked of her without question was just bad.

- These are all necessary evils for the story to take place so I can give them all a pass. 

- I’m going to be honest (again), I expected so much worse from the conversion camp. Not that it wasn’t awful. Mrs. Thompson backhanding Rakeem in the face and Deacon reading their darkest secrets out loud was fucked up. But I think I was expecting things closer to torture because of the way Manny dodged so many of the Varelas’ questions and the way Carlos said, “They never should’ve done that to you. They never should’ve done that to me either.” I don’t know, I was just holding my breath for something horrendous and then when we saw what happened, it just… wasn’t so bad to me? Or wasn’t as bad as it could’ve been. Again, it is very bad. I was just bracing myself for the worst.

- Oh god, is Simone okay? I just realized she’s still with the man that raped her and forced her to get an abortion. Somebody save her because oh my god, I legit gagged at that. Well… at least Maddie and a few others are okay.

jealousy, jealousy

2007. it's a rainy day when Patrick and Richie began something that they are not supposed to. (I am DelilahAndTheUnderdogs on AO3, SISSIBVG on Wattpad, I have another tumblr ff account ELIFANFICTION. This one it's just my PC account) tw: cigarettes, weed, death, verbal abuse, mental health, alcohol, swearing (and getting creative about it), toxic behaviour, blood. it's an AU and Free Form fanfiction, don't like, don't read. dead dove: don't eat.

a necessary author note 

so, ugh, usually I don't post notices/notes for fanfictions.

but this time i do because i want to be sincere with you all.

when i first was intrigued by patrichie, it was in the movies’ universe, especially the first installment of the 2017/2019 two part movies. while with henry and bill i always kind of shipped them in the book too, in the first movie i felt between Patrick and Richie a tension, much more that in the book.

as for Patrick (and Henry tbh), in the book he plays the part as the “evil homosexuals” while Richie (and Eddie) is more like scared and “in the closet” homosexual trope because let's face it: in  the book they are written as children of their time, especially IT was wrote in the 80s and for the most part set in the 50s. 

Patrick is an abusive, who deserves nothing but death, in the books. Richie, in the books, copes with the fact that his mom wanted a girl with his passion with stand up comedy and ventriloquism. the book really touch many dark human sides, that's intriguing yet disturbing, like a lot. i do not recommend reading it during classes at 15. lmao, anyway.

at that time, it was different: expressing emotions, toxic masculinity and unhealthy standards in society (and Beverly faced this issue greatly, for the pressure to fit conventionally beauty standards and what meant to be a girl, set by a machist society — i mean, Eddie’s mom in the book doesn't like the fact that his son is friends with a girl, who she think is a slut, just because Be befriended boys) and racism, most of them are racist, the Bower's Gang predominantly and are loud about that, because it was accepted and normalized (hopefully today it's less but racism is still here) and people like Eddie's mom (still her lmao) thought it was disgusting to be friends’ with a black kid like Mike which honestly is the most pure and innocent kid on earth yet people cannot get pass on his skin colour. 

in conclusion, this is an AU but disturbing things will be there, though. i set it in the early 00s which was not the brightest time in our society, or its highlight because let's face it: I was a  pre-teen in the early 00s, so many traumas for me, and it's really long to fully unpack. here we are: me channeling my experiences through those characters which are really distant yet i can relate the most (Richie in particular).

enjoy this journey with me ~

weight is on my back

September 1st, 2007

A jet-black, straight haired boy was smoking a Malboro, in Derry Middle School's empty parking lot. Patrick Hockstetter was fazed, headphones on, Teenagers by My Chemical Romance playing. Derry was still sleeping. He looked eerily calm, on the verge of mass murdering, it seemed. It was not the case but not that far from truth, most days. He was simply angry. He wanted to scream, his voice stuck in his guts. His unhappiness was in his veins.

And there he was, Richard Tozier. A chihuahua trying to imitate a bulldog, Patrick thought. 

His blue eyes wandered on Richard's face. Why is he so magnetic for? 

He repressed himself. Suddenly, Henry greeted him with his annoying voice: «what’s up, fag?» He hated that word with a passion. He could not go against Henry because yes, his voice might be annoying but he's physically aggressive. Who isn't calling people with that word, meaning it as a slur? It's 2007, not many things changed from the 90s. He was born in 1991 and was four in 1995, when, fun fact, Richard was born. He remembers things, from that time. He doesn't want to, honestly. His dad beating him up senseless. Or finding himself killing his brother. 

He shooed away these thoughts, in the distant part of his brain. When Patrick was still distracted, he acknowledged Richard Tozier, nicknamed by many students (and teachers) Trashmouth.

Richard was awkward and talkative at the same time. Richard watched SNL way to much since he memorized by heart Bill Harder’s repertoire. especially, Vinny Vedecci and his italian gibberish.

Trashmouth reminded him Harry Potter, mostly the body size, the glasses and the talk-back attitude.

His cigarette was slowly burning in his right hand while looking at the short boy, absentmindedly.

«Let’s go» said Patrick, slapping Henry’s thigh «Nelson, first period, right?» said Belch «can we just skip classes? a smoke a joint?» then asked.

Patrick replied: «why not» while eyeing Henry, seeking his approval.

Every student went to their class. The courtyard went creepily silent. They moved around the building and Patrick went straight to his favourite spot, the gym. The other three did not care were he was, they went downtown, all together. 

The rain started to pour down ferociously, a growing mud smell went to Patrick nostrils. Something dangerous this way comes, he thought. He saw Richard standing there, behind the brown wall, under the gym canopy. He was smoking a cigarette and when the shorter guy saw Patrick, panicked a: «Oh fucking shit, not you» trying to run away. Patrick bloocked him under his body and shushed his mouth with his wide chalk-like hands. 

Patrick was dead serious when he whispered: «Now, Richard, shut the fuck up or I'll will kill you.» he made a brief pause, checking if the other three boys followed him but no, the were not there «or I can spare you from humiliation. There are Henry, Belch and Vic with me. You must not make a sound. Understand?» Trashmouth nodded, eagerly. «Or I swear to that fucking God, you'll never see the light again.» Patrick felt dizzy for a moment. Richard's heat was overwhelming. He removed his hand from the shorter boy's mouth and he distanced his boy for few inches.

«You are fucking insane, you know that, right Hockstetter?» said Richard with a glim in his eyes. 

«I know, Tozier» said the older one, lighting his joint «and you know that you are not safe with me, right?»

«Call me Richie» the curly haired one said, still smoking «and I don't care, honestly. If you want to excuse me, Hockstetter, can we make this important discussion in the gym?» 

They both tossed away whatever they were smoking and Patrick broke into the structure with Richie. The latter took Patrick's hand and he dragged him into the locker room. 

«Kiss me» said Richie, straightforward.

Patrick satisfied his request with an enormous pleasure: he put his lips on Richie's and began to devour him in seconds. Hands were traveling on almost naked bodies and Patrick realised that he was into Richie and his mischievous yet magmatic gaze, all this time. He tighten his huge hands on the other boy's curly hair while still deeply kissing him, tounge and all. 

HE'S MINE, MINE, MINE, FINALLY MINE, NOT EDDIE'S BUT MINE, his brain frantically shouted. 

«We should go back» said Patrick between his breath.

«Yeah, I think so» replied Richie, stealing another kiss. 

Their faces were still red when they dressed themselves. «Where have you been, Mr. Hockstetter?» said Mrs Orson when Patrick sat down. «I left my lunch at home, Ma’am» he lied. Mrs Orson wanted to believe him and she did. Patrick didn't know what to think when he came back to class, as confused as he was yet wanted more. Richie wrong-feet him. Big time. That feeling was new and dangerous. 

Anyway, Patrick always liked the taste of blood, after all. 

art of a pair of designs I recently adopted with my wife. They were from a set, designed by a twitter user. We just loved the look of them so much, we wanted to both get one, and draw them together <3

The one that is mine is the large bodied one with dark hair and stripes. His name is Ni (”nee”). The smaller pink one is his big sister, Ne (”neh”).

They actually were born aquatic, and more similarly sized/shaped. My wife has drawn this early stage of their life!

you can imagine them living in a little puddle, together. verrry small. eventually they matured and developed into a terrestrial form. They’re actually relatively small, Ne is only liable to reach halfway up your leg while standing, Ni perhaps up to your waist. they are both scrawny little things.

Overall, their dynamic is one where Ne is manic and energetic, and frets over the more slow-paced Ni.

An excerpt from Ni’s toyhouse profile: "Born in the wild, in an aquatic larval form, Ni has known his entire life to be with his sister, Ne. They were once more similarly shaped and sized, in this state, though eventually their life changed as they developed more and took to the land. Ni's body did not take to the transition well, and he is a bit stunted and irregularly developed; he retains features that Ne lost during the shift. As such, his multiple eyes and extra set of small, vestigial arms are neotenous in nature, atypical. Ni's teeth and muzzle never quite developed right either; it's incredibly soft and delicate to the touch, like a rabbit's nose and lips, but no teeth.

Neither Ne or Ni understood why he was different, they simply accepted this as a fact of life. Ne would continue to hunt food for him, just as she always had. The only difference was that she had to shred his food into tinier pieces, so he could suckle blood directly from flesh and swallow down small pieces of meat, organs. It doesn't always settle well with him, but he is still technically a carnivore, just a poorly developed one. Together, they got by, and it was the same as ever. Until…

Through unfortunate incident, Ne was separated from him, and could not find her way back. Ni waited as long as he could for her return, but one day had to move on from their shared den. Without her, he was subject to starvation, and easily driven away by other animals. Eating became more painful, as he had to swallow food he was not equipped to ingest. He became covered in scuffs and cuts. Eventually, he began to take roost in abandoned human settlements, and through stumbling through them, he realized he could manipulate tools with his strange dexterous clawed hands. Ni has never seen or known what a human is (they are long-dead in this world) so he cannot intuit much about where he lives; to him, the abandoned town is a strange structure of the world. He runs into things by happenstance.

This change in lifestyle helps Ni survive, but he doesn't realize the dangers it incurs. One day, he gets caught by a snare around the neck, and struggles for days with the rope around his neck, steadily choking him. He manages to escape, but carries the scar with him. Finally, at this point, the memories of his sister made him too grief-stricken and in despair; he was convinced now she had to have died. He became out of touch with his emotions to survive the pain of her loss. This repression of his self is so effective, that even when they are reunited, he is in disbelief of her return, and how much he has changed since she has gone. It is a bittersweet circumstance. He is still learning how to be with her again. But, she makes him very happy; this is always the truth. Love endures…"

to bicycles and a shopping cart on our way from the EMP

Was unhappily reminded of our reliance on electronics and the vulnerability of our power grid, twice this week. The first was easy to repress as I've been aware of this "one more thing" for years, and starting yet another post-apocalyptic series on my kindle was...a familiar reminder. It was the second thing I'm still thinking about.

When my phone suddenly stopped receiving a signal, I didn't think of the scenario where the North Koreans sneak a few old Russian Ilyushin jet bombers, into the US commercial traffic pattern squawking Chinese commercial airliner codes, then climbing them high and setting off nuclear bombs to create electromagnetic pulses devastating our nation's power grid.

Nope, I didn't think that because I'm not living in a constant state of terror that at any moment the world or just my world (same thing) is about to come crashing down. Yeah living in a state of denial isn't the constant address of only Trumper's. We all fend off the vagaries of life with barricades made of hope, faith, repression, nihilism, etc.

Personally, I cope mostly by...nevermind. Even though I've seemed to notice more of those Emergency Broadcast transmissions on the radio than usual, and even though, the world's most prominent Darth Vader seems to be going down in an insane egoists death spire and taking us with him, my first thought was...yeah Android Auto really sucks. It does.

It wasn't until I pulled into the parking lot of the supermarket and unplugged my phone from the car, that I realized, not only wasn't I not getting any cell signal, I wasn't getting an icon to represent a cell signal. When I tried to make a call or send a text I got the most disturbing message. "Phone not connect to a network. No number associated with this device. You can only make Emergency calls."

WTAF!!! In this day and age, when an emergency happens, you use your phone to call for help. Really when nearly anything happens you use your phone. When the emergency is - your phone is no longer a phone, I repeat, What the actual fuck?!

Not an emergency you say? Well here I was sitting in a primo parking spot on a beautiful Saturday afternoon, temp in the low 80's, sorry world, all ready to go in to get a long list of food items when I realized, I'd forgotten the list!!! Ikr? Yeah big time Emerg!!!

So, I shakily restarted the car and drove a white-knuckled fifteen minutes in heavy traffic to the Verizon store. I could think of three Verizon stores off hand. As a former member of an AF tactical communications unit, I've been conditioned to always know where all emergency egress routes are and the nearest White Castle and Verizon stores.

What? Some of you savvy preppers might ask, "Shouldn't I know where the gun stores are?' For when the sky is covered in contrails and the dead have begun to walk? Nah, I live in Indiana. You can't swing a dead zombie torso without hitting a gun shop. But MF if you've just finished a hard day of drinking and your stomach has begun to cry like Nancy Keriggan Why Why Why, a WK crave case is survival.

Anyway, as I walked in the Verizon store I noticed OMG, every single person was currently looking at a hand-held screen. Every customer and every Verizon team member. Most of the team members were looking at two screens, a tablet and a computer screen. Yeah, one EMP and I might as well have been trapped in an Escape Room!!! Okay, not a very good one as the whole front of the store is windows but... <whispers> the horror!

Quickly, a team leader approached me. To some extent I imagined what the energetic young man (Dean) might be seeing as he approached. A tallish, older man, not quite fit but not quite gone Homer Simpson, and okay he probably was just seeing customer number 286 and wondering if the geezer could remember his own phone number. So when he greeted me cheerily and asked for my phone number, I said.

Umh, I was just driving along and my phone stopped working and now it says there's no number assigned to it! Okay??? he replied.

I gave him my phone number and he said, the next rep will be with you as soon as possible.

When Terrence came over, about ten minutes later, I handed him my phone and raddled off my number. Okay, what can I help you with?

Terrence was great. He confirmed my query that sometimes people's numbers are in fact stolen (no missile contrails so) but he would just check out if my sim card was working properly...first. A new sim card later and my phone began to work. I assured Terrence when I chose to replace my phone, I'd let him know and I walked out into the day in full possession of a working phone, comfortably connected to the hivemind network.  A short while later, I was in the supermarket when D texted me a photo of the grocery list I'd left on the counter. <sigh> yeah, I should have got a bigger shopping cart.

Trying to parse out the romance plot lines and possible future intentions for the sequel when it comes to the LXG film is fucking difficult tbh bc honestly, it very much feels like yet another problem with the script and editing where there's a good film in there, but the studio wanted to hedge their bets and leave things open to make creative decisions based on financial considerations - and that just leads to a problem where there's no conviction or strong direction in many areas, including the two potential love interests for Mina once Dorian is out of the picture; there are obviously romantic storylines going on for both Jekyll and Tom meant as set up for the cancelled sequel, but by the end of the film, I don't think you can conclusively say which direction the next film was going to take bc both are kind of present, but also just sort of there and really uneven, and it's like, just pick one and follow through with it.

My guess is that the original direction was Mina choosing Tom, especially when Tom was supposed to be the teen heartthrob character and American audience surrogate set up as the second protagonist, next team leader, and most likely male romantic lead in the sequel, and both Peta and especially Shane were rising hot young actors at the time while Jason is one of those talented, but low-key British character actors who's always great, but not a box office draw - though it's funny bc as someone who was in the fandom back in 2003, I would say Mina and Jekyll were easily the most popular characters, and I think Jekyll got the most horny on main reactions, along with probably being one of the most consistently praised parts of the film while Tom was very polarizing.

Anyway, on the Tom side of things, we know from the DVD commentary that there was a much bigger plotline of Tom having a crush on Mina that was cut down for the final print, but they didn't elaborate on why exactly; what we do see is generally Tom trying to flirt with Mina and her initially being nice, including vouching for his joining the team, but firmly turning him down, and later, we do see her smiling at Tom he's being an action hero in Venice and later when he mentions the villain will assume they're dead - though interestingly, Mina's weirdly disproportionately impressed reaction to the latter is actually repurposed from her reacting to a deleted big rousing speech marking him out as the next leader, where it made more sense (but also not really bc why is she accepting authority from him?); we also get her checking on him after the chase and him asking her if she's okay, and it's Tom who offers to kill Dorian for her; at the very end, it's Tom and Mina who share glances at each other during the funeral and walk away together, almost like a couple; on the other hand, the scene where she basically says she wants to be with him was deleted, but again, we don't know why.

On the Jekyll side of things, we know that during filming, they were deliberately shooting them exchanging fleeting glances (not sure how much made it into the film though) to set up a potential romance, and Jekyll is obviously in love with her, but too repressed to act on it, and Hyde as his less restrained self is also interested (since they're the same person); the film ends up doing a nice storyline in the second act where he goes from only being able to watch her from afar to becoming more confident after his big heroic moment, enough to at least look her in the eye, say something, and almost touch hands, and she seems interested - but then the film just drops everything; the only interaction they have after that is her snapping at him when they're in the cave, and as mentioned earlier, it's Tom she ends up walking away with instead of him.

So what basically happened was that they didn't commit to developing either potential romantic storyline as strongly and consistently as they could have in order to hedge their bets for the sequel that got cancelled anyway, and it's frustrating bc we just ended up with two storylines that feel awkwardly half-assed; on the other hand, it could be a monkey's paw situation where as someone who admittedly preferred the Jekyll set up, this was the only way to at least gets scraps if based on the deleted scenes, it was much more likely they would have gone for Tom as the only love interest if they chose one to focus on.

Power Armor Punch Part 9

Masterlist

Nick: *going through the entire play, adding his own little inflections based on the directions set before the characters speak*

Lucille: *in her powerarmor wandering off to the Slog to build it up. It's a very pretty place* Deserves some love*

Jasmine: (Listening intently, trying to imagine each scene to keep her mind off the stitches and bandages)

Nick: *trying not to get too far into the play, he's still trying to brainstorm other things at the same time. It's... a little difficult but he'll manage*

Jasmine: (Remembering those nights when she was little and either Lilac or her Mom or someone else she loved would read to them out loud… She clings to Nick tighter again, feeling some tears coming again as she resists the urge to pick her skin)

Nick: *notices her tensing up so he gently rubs her back. He pauses to check on her again*

Lucille: *running around avoiding raiders and Supermutant fights as she makes her way to The Slog*

Jasmine: (Relaxes again, mentally cursing herself for tensing again)

Nick: It's okay. You don't have to hide it... what's going on? Memories? I can start reciting a different play if it's too much.

Lucille: *doesn't like fighting if she doesn't have to*

Jasmine: (Shakes her head, the play itself is fine. She’s just so used to hiding when something is wrong. Which is why she doesn’t tell him anything unless he presses)

Nick: Alright... *resumes where he left off on the Illiad*

Jasmine: (Continues to listen, feeling a little off about lying to him again but she doesn’t want to ruin this rare moment)

Nick: *knows she's lying but he doesn't want to push her considering her mental state at the moment*

Jasmine: (Closes her eyes, almost falling asleep…..)

Nick: Now here's an appropriate line... *gently shifts as he expresses the quote from the long lost play* "My doom has come upon me- let me not then die ingloriously and without a struggle, but let me first do some great thing that shall be told among men hereafter."

Lucille: *it's gonna take her a long while to reach the Slog*

Jasmine: (Eyes flutter open, not sure what he means)

Nick: *pauses* Simply put, despite the looming threat of death, fight it and use the life you've got to do something good for someone.

Jasmine: (Stays still, remembering that he didn’t see what she tried to do after the bombs….. She sniffs back tears and closes her eyes and snuggles closer to him. Like she said earlier, she tried and all she got was more pain)

Nick: That includes now, as well...

Jasmine: (Shakes her head. In all honesty, she’s done. So much trauma and pain….. she can barely keep together right now. Actually she isn't…)

Nick: Maybe you're just not ready to hear such encouraging words... That's fine, too, I suppose... *pets her head* Let me know if you'd like me to start back up.

Jasmine: (Presses her face back against his chest. She will probably never want to hear encouraging words anytime soon. She always has a reason to deflect them, and that just brings up more bad repressed memories)

Nick: *sighs* I'm proud of you, Jas... for making it this far...

Jasmine: (Wants to make a sarcastic remark that she was dragged this far against her will, but decides not to because she doesn’t want to move her arms)

Nick: You might say it was against your will, but I beg to differ. This world isn't for the faint of heart and you survived in it. I think deep down, there's a part of you that's still fighting to stay alive... it's just lost in the all the darkness you've endured. *shifts and lightly strokes her cheek with his metal thumb*

Jasmine: (Moves her head to stare up at him with red teary eyes. Actually, she just thinks that Death just really hates her and pushes her away when she comes close to it)

Nick: You may have wanted to die and probably still do, but have you ever thought maybe there's a good reason you're not dead yet? Maybe there's something you still have to do and you just haven't figured it out yet?

Jasmine: (Shakes her head. She’s not dead yet because she always underestimates how much her body can take, which is a lot. And IF there was another reason she is still alive, it better be damned good reason because of all the Hell she is suffering through just to get this far)

Nick: *already considering all the weapons and pseudo weapons he's going to have to have someone check for later... trying to remember how to talk a jumper on a very tall building out of actually jumping*

Jasmine: (Waits to see if he’s going to say anything else so she can rest her head back)

Nick: *decides to set that aside... for an emergency. Softly and simply* I'm through...

Jasmine: (Snuggles her head back to his chest, wondering what he is thinking about so intensely)

Nick: *wants to tell her but she might not be willing to help with the case*

Jasmine: (Closes her eyes again, not to fall asleep but just to listen to his inner machinery so she doesn’t slip back into her old memories)

Nick: *there's a rhythm to the way the motor runs and the fans whir. The gurgle of coolant acts in place of a melody*

Jasmine: (Keeps her eyes closed as she listens, telling herself not to fall asleep or pick at her bandages/stitches)

Curie: *turns over in her sleep in the other room... has a note taped to her forehead that says "Gone to Slog! ...Luv u~! <3"*

Lucille: *fighting a motherf*cking death claw. Fun*

Jasmine: (Quickly opens her eyes. She almost fell asleep again but the thought of the last memory Nick was shown served a fine reminder on why NOT to. She squeezes Nick again, hiding her face in his chest as a fresh wave of tears come. Those stitches are starting to become more and more taunting….)

Nick: *quietly* You feel like talkin', now?

Jasmine: (Nods slightly against his chest. Actually, not really, probably never ever and she would do her best to avoid it. But at this point there isn’t really any way to avoid it. Especially with the almost overwhelming urge to pick out her stitches and bandages)

Nick: ...Do you remember what was on those holotapes...?

Lucille: *just hacking into that deathclaw with her ripper, Sutcliffe*

Jasmine: (Blinks a few times in confusion, taking a moment to realize what he is talking about. She leans back from Nick to look at up at his face and to give herself room to move her hands) (Signing) “No, we never looked. Mom put them in the safe under her bed.”

Nick: I wonder if it's still out there, then... got any idea where that could be?

Jasmine: (Nods slightly, a dim look over her face as she stares up at him) (Signing) “In the old house, in the Glowing Sea. Don’t see a reason on going for some old holotapes.”

Nick: Call it curiosity. Might shed some light on a few things...

Jasmine: (Shakes her head) (Signing) “Not going to show much.” (Looks down, remembering the moment she realized why she was adopted, and what was done to her….) (Signing) “I didn’t look because I didn’t want to know.”

Nick: In my line of work, every little detail matters... *pets her head* Even the ones that seem insignificant.

Jasmine: (Shrugs slightly, relaxing at his touch as she looks back up at him, waiting)

Lucille: *panting over the slain Deathclaw* That took a few stimpaks...

Nick: *already making a mental note to check in the Glowing sea* Do you remember anything about why those people took you?

Jasmine: (Looks down again, taking a deep breath) “You saw in the memories, even when I was small I was still very strong and resilient. Everyone in the town knew so, I guess word got around to the wrong people.” (Closes her eyes, remembering one certain incident right before she was taken away but after her Mother died, not sure if she should say it)

Nick: *petting her head* You can tell me, Kiddo. It's okay.

Jasmine: (Looks back up at him, examining at his face carefully)

Nick: *patient look. Ready for anything, honestly*

Jasmine: (Blinks a few times) (Signing) “After my Mom died, I was scared and so mad at myself. So one day, I ran away from my Aunt who tried to help me accept her death. I somehow ran all the way to the wooded area a few miles away. I screamed loudly and started to punch a small but thick tree, managing to brake it with my bare fists.” (Pauses for a moment, remembering her anger and sadness on that day, causing a lump in her throat) “I apologized to the tree for killing it and ran all the way back sobbing. I didn’t look where I was going and got hit by a motorcar and slammed into a brick wall…...” (Hesitating)

Nick: Mm... *nods, taking in the information. He'd laugh about the part with her apologizing to a tree if it weren't such a serious situation* Do you remember anything at all after that?

Jasmine: (Nods, sighing sadly to herself. She remembers this part really well) (Signing) “I remember everyone around me panicking, someone ran over and injected me with a stimpack or two while the lady on the motor bike was screaming for an ambulance. Next thing I know, I’m laying in a bed at the hospital with people fretting all over me, and I was sitting there almost completely fine. Barely even a broken bone on me, and everyone was spooked by this. Especially the Doctors, they were all whispering and looking at me as if I was a ghost. Lilac was cradling me and crying, and our Aunt was trying to get answers but the Doctors couldn’t explain how I was still alive.” (Looks down at her shaking hands, the next part was not a lovely memory) “I was sent home safe and sound. About a month later, I wake up to Lilac holding me tightly while singing and rocking me. Aunt Debora was talking with someone downstairs, I could hear that she was mad. We hear thundering steps as two huge men in some black uniform's bust up the stairs and go straight for me. Lilac screams and fights for me as they tug me out of her arms and down the stairs past our Aunt who was being held back. They carried me to a car outside, all of our neighbors where gathered around yelling and screaming and I was kicking and screaming. A bunch of police men where lined up and holding the crowd back. I was thrown into a car, and never saw any of them again….” (Blinks rapidly, tears starting to rush down her face as she starts picking at the cuts under her bandages aggressively. She shivers, feeling the cold again. She had summarized it, not wanting to say much beyond the basics, but knew that Nick might ask questions)

Nick: Men in black suits...? The police were involved somehow...? *frowning* Sounds like some sort of government agency got involved. *notices what she's doing and pulls her hands away before petting her hair and wiping her tears away* Jas... I know this is very hard for you but I need you to try and remember... The hospital, what was it called? And the men, were there any logos you saw that might indicate who they worked for?

Jasmine: (Looks at him, shaking her head sadly with teary eyes) (Signing) ”I was crying, I couldn't see which hospital they took me to, and I was asleep with Lilac when they took me home. As for the men with the black suits, I don't think they had any logos, I was more focused on breaking free and screaming. I know that my Aunt Debbie or anyone else didn't know who they where because they kept asking “Who are you?” and ”Where are you taking her?” Once they had me in the car, everyone involved including the police jumped into their cars and drove away without saying anything else.” (Looks away again, more tears starting down her face)

Nick: *softly as he carefully whipes her tears away* Alright... We'll figure out who was behind this horrible operation. *considering a few possibilities, mostly Vault-Tec, however*

Jasmine: (Nods, turning to look back at him, waiting to see what he will say next. She actually isn't sure IF she wants to go poking back there again, its painful enough just to think about it)

Nick: *small, kind, understanding smile* For now, try to get some rest...

Jasmine: (Shakes her head) (Signing) “Im not sleeping.”

Nick: I didn't say anything about sleep... *petting her head again*

Jasmine: (Tilts her head in confusion)

Nick: You don't need to sleep in order to rest... though it is recommended.

Jasmine: (Nods faintly) (Signing) “Are you staying here?”

Lucille: *got distracted by a random trader*

Nick: If you want me, to... *still doesn't know how she considers him comfortable to snuggle up to... though he realizes she's slept in worse conditions than next to an old synth like him*

Jasmine: (Nods her head, scooting closer to cuddle back up against him)

Nick: *gently holds his adopted daughter. He starts reciting a tale about a kid going on adventure on the high seas to find treasure lost long ago*

Jasmine: (Listens carefully, smiling a little. She blinks rapidly, starting to fall asleep….)

Nick: *the tale does have a bit of a slow start. Takes place for a bit at an inn before moving on to finding a crew to go on this adventure*

Jasmine: (Closes her eyes, starting to drift off)

Nick: *narrates about the pub they go to and the salty dogs in it*

Jasmine: (Falls asleep listening to his story nuzzled up by his chest. She is not worried about someone sneaking up on her because Nick is holding her, but she is worried about the nightmares that will most likely come again, especially when she is in such a fragile mental state)

Nick: *doesn't stop narrating until he's sure she's fast asleep*

Curie: *stirs and wakes up. Blinks at the note hanging over her eyes and pulls it off* Ow! the tape-! *reads it. Looks worried* I hope she is not in too much trouble as she travels. Oh please, mon amour, tell me you at least took someone with you-

Lucille: *nope! And everything is trying to kill her!*

Jasmine: (Fast asleep, warm and feeling safe cuddled up next to her Dad)

Curie: *goes to check on the patient. She quietly peaks around the corner of the door and smiles at the warm and sweet sight and quietly leaves them be*

Jasmine: (For at least an hour, she should get some peaceful sleep as long as no loud noises or harsh movements happen. But after that, there is no guarantee)

Nick: *takes the time to go over the case so far. The hospital in question is suspect- someone on their staff probably reported Jas to the government somehow... or the organization involved in taking her. There's the possibility of her biological mother somehow being involved. There's that mystery, too... who was her mother? Does she have something to do with Jasmine's super strength? Was she experimented on, too? Voluntarily? Was sleeping around part of the experiment or just something she happened to do at the time despite it? Was she married-?* Mmm... *quietly reprimanding himself* Whoa there, Valentine... getting a little too lost in the weeds there...

Jasmine: (Snuffs in her sleep, snuggling closer to him)

Nick: *reminded she's there, so he smiles warmly at her. Quietly* Even in your sleep, you have something sarcastic to say... *lightly pats her back*

Jasmine: (Sleeping peacfully)

Nick: *realizes how much of a child she actually is when she sleeps. It's heartbreaking to know what she's been through…. On that somber thought, he decides to go into sleep mode to give his system a break*

Jasmine: (Clings onto him in her sleep)

Nick: *wakes up from sleep mode after a good few hours. Gave his system time to apply any sort of patches and fixes he might need*

Jasmine: (Panting and whimpering in her sleep, her heart racing. She is obviously in distress but is oddly stiff like she can't bring herself to move)

Nick: Jas? *shakes her* Hey!

Jasmine: (Flinches but doesn't wake up right away as she starts tossing around)

Nick: Kid! *grips her shoulders tight and shakes her again*

Lucille: *almost to the Slog*

Jasmine: (Screams, shooting straight up into a sitting position panting and gasping for air. Disorientated, she scrambles and trashes to free herself from the blanket thats now tangled around her)

@lucilleandherrobots

Excellent meta on Stede, and you really hit the nail on the head on why it's so frustrating (as a real life queer man who found comfort in Stede's journey) to see so many--particularly women--seem to think Stede needs to be "buff" and "bearded" in season two. That's not who he is, and if you ship buff and bearded Stede with Ed, then you don't ship Stede with Ed.

Ed fell in love with Stede for Stede being exactly who he is, and that message is so important. Yeah, Stede gave up his wealth, but that doesn't mean he's going to be a completely different person. It feels like a lot of people who ship Stede and Ed only do so conditionally, IF Stede fits these certain criteria.

I think that bearded!Stede and the unfortunate excusing and idolizing of Izzy's abusive behavior come from the same place. The same people who think Izzy is a decent person deep down, the same people who think Izzy was somehow right for repeated attempted murder and betrayal and violence and racism, who side with and excuse and justify his behavior, are the people who don't think Stede is good enough for Ed the way he is. Who despise Stede for embracing his femininity while still being masculine.

(And there's a whole other post about how deciding all feminine men are trans women is another big problem--deciding Ed is a trans women because of how he expresses his femininity is JUST AS TRANSPHOBIC as the shit terfs say. It's still conditioning certain aspects and qualities as strictly feminine from a place of misandry.)

This fandom misses the point of the show when they latch on to characters like Izzy, and I know it's because he's close to conventionally attractive and because he's an abuser and fandoms love white male abusers (delena, spuffy, this isn't a queer thing).

Anyway. Got a little off track but yeah. Good post.

Well, first of all thank you!

I think many of the bearded Stede fanarts/headcanon stem from the fact that we DO see a change in Stede's apprearance at the end of the season. When he sets off on his own, with no money, he sports a different, simpler look than usual, and even his hair is styled differently. He does look like a more traditional "dashing hero" type, and I think that they went for that look to tell us, through this aesthetic "trope", that: 1) he's dead set on getting his man back 2) he's dialed the romance level all the way up to 11 3) he's ready to show himself to Ed as what he is, no frills and no masks. Just because he likes fine things it doesn't mean he'll always have them, and I think it's important to show us (and to the characters!) that Ed does not just like Stede for what he can offer him meterially, he likes Stede for Stede. (Brb crying about the fact that Ed was ready to leave piracy behind for Stede, and now Stede has left behind all his riches for Ed.)

In fact, I kind of expect the reconciliation to be something like the scene in the Cinderella live action (when Ella and the prince finally see each other again), with Stede and Ed telling each other that they're both insecure, fucked up in some ways, and can offer each other absolutely nothing but unconditional love. And that is going to be more than enough for both of them.

Do I think Stede will keep this look long term? No. But I do think he'll stay in plain clothes for some time and then, after getting his ship and his husband back, he'll find a way to steal some fine fabrics through some elaborate fuckery.

As for Izzy: I think the duality of Izzy (he's an asshole VS he is just very repressed) stems from the fact that in S1 we see Izzy more as a narrative tool than as a character of his own. Izzy is there because the narrative needs him and Jack and the Badmintons to show us what toxic masculinity looks like, so that the other characters can rebel against it. But while the Badmintons and Jack come and go very quickly, Izzy is there throughout the entire show. Of course we are bound to ask ourselves more about him. So, for me, the question is: in S2, will Izzy remain a stand-in for toxic masculinity, or is he going to break free of it? Is he really just an asshole, or is he just at a previous stage of Ed's journey, clinging to violence because that's all he knows? I'm fine with both choices, mostly because I have complete faith in these writers not to fuck it up either way.

In conclusion: Stede Bonnet is awesome and sweet and soft and a little bit of a bitch and I love him very much.

I'm still flip-flopping on Eddie’s characterization and what I want this series to be. Whether Eddie or Nick will refuse to change as the world turns to a new age. I can see a very convincing case for both of them.

The grimdark elements- Transplanted characters fighting against the repressive environment they've found themselves in and Nick’s downward spiral- Are too depressing for me right now. I can't do them, and all the meta-horror and slow-build, mundane tragedy that comes with them, justice in this headspace.

What does cutting all that leave us with?

Interspersed through all of this: The strangest, dirtiest, kinkiest sex I could possibly come up with. Just to see if I could push my own limits. Oftentimes it is supposed to be kinda funny, but also hot and/or heartfelt. No idea, except incest and pedophilia, was shoved off the table as too out there. Too niche to possibly appeal to anyone. The VAST majority of dubcon and noncon will be as enjoyable experiences that quote-unqoute "doesn't canonically / in their real, waking life happen to the character", as in its dreams that they enjoy, fantasies, and Safe Sane Consentual roleplay, etc because I feel more comfortable with that framing. I'm not saying "real / hard" dubcon or noncon won't happen period, or the "softer" versions won't come with some mixed feelings. Not closing that door yet.

Eddie getting into a new relationship and discovering lots of new things about himself.

Conrad slowly realizing... Wait. Maybe I'm not crazy. This IS all happening the way I'm seeing it. Then the various relationships he persues trying to get over Nick, then being forced to go to Officially Sanctioned Therapy instead of relying on trusted allies like he has been. "I was doing JUST FINE, I don't know why you people are insisting on this, but WHATEVER. You know my conditions for showing up. DO NOT fuck with them."

The group he's gathered around himself and Billy deciding what they want out of this world. A bunch of big, headstrong personalities clashing with each other here.

Roger and Jessica going to Booker T Beaver, the world-renowned Toon Pysch, for couples therapy. Booker is seeing the majority of the main cast in some capacity and gets embroiled in their tangled web of personal drama.

The ghosts of Greasy and Wheezy looking for suitable bodies to inhabit.

Smartass finding a new crew to run with and setting his sights on becoming The King Of Clubs in LA. Might also be part of the community efforts setting up safe havens for transplanted characters to live in as they're adjusting. Always busy with somethin', this guy.

Attempting to unravel the phenomenon of random resurrection and see if it's tied to characters from other worlds being pulled here. Why do some show up as human and others as Toons? Why can some come back from the dead as they make the jump?

...And Jones and some other Antagontists causing minor havoc in the background.

***********

Even as Conrad and Nick feel like their entire reality is crashing down around them, they have very strong motivations pulling them. Conrad may change his immediate goal at the drop of a hat early on, but the core is still there: He wants to be free to roam and do what he wants, and be in control of himself. Even being with Nick takes a backseat. Safety? That isn't guaranteed, so it's secondary to making sure he doesn't get locked up.

Very quickly, he thinks he's done it. He didn't fuck up the fresh start handed to him on a silver platter. People like him. He's got a good, physical job that's perfect for the lifestyle he wants. We're all good.

Except...

He's gone through extreme parental abuse. He's been suicidal for literal decades. The Merc Brain constantly running calculations of How Do I Fight My Way Out Of This Room If Someone Pulls A Gun On Me... You can't just snap your fingers and shut that off. The fight is not over, and treating it like it is could potentially become VERY dangerous for himself and others if he gets trapped in the wrong place, at the wrong time, with the right combination of stressors.

Him and Nick have chronic mental health issues that're fucking exhausting to deal with on a day to day basis. They're trying as hard as they can. The question is how much do I focus on that with a lighter and softer tone? Just how much do they start cracking under the pressure? Are the people in their lives helping? Or are they just one more hindrance? Why or why not?

I will be writing more kinky shit this weekend.

If this series will be easier to publish as everyone having fun with fetishes, airing their shit with Booker, and lots of relationship drama, I will do that. I'm just sad to see the big, grand, tragic saga not work out.

Ego | Power | Silent Abuse (WARNING HARD VENT!)

Calling people mean words I do not like, winding them up or starting fictional news because they don’t want to play with you is making me call people names and I cannot speak words in real life to handle this. Mainly fear of any confrontation…literally it scares me to death, they would not understand at all. My reasons are based on self-awareness skills that I was taught as a kid and am very entitled about.  They were never taught and I never spoke to them about, and yeah, they are not required to share that secret because you are expected to know it, because ignorant uneducated people do not matter in this world, I could not handle someone actually fully being in love with me and hiding all my internal repressed illnesses from them anymore, so much guilt! I release it on 1,000 plus microblogs. I am highly entitled to keep these hard-set boundaries that abuse others. Words that have never made music out the tongue, spiraled into a lie of accusations that hurt my cold-hearted feelings. My private life was none of your business nor will it ever be! People are expected to have mindreading skills to know about my boundaries or in their case what their intuitive, but lack of encyclopedia defined knowledge of what words mean! They can throw people to the curb for what every reason they want. I've never been able to express my repressed thoughts and need to rebel against anyone, but now I have finally broke free of the satisfying everyone’s else’s needs of emotional slavery!  Until now, this very moment and it FEELS AMAZING! I make the rules, I have the power, that poor soul does not deserve anything from me, I owe him nothing, not a spec of human decency. I intentionally plotted the devastating shocking ending that I planned months ago, after I manically intentionally stole his bag. I love to watch them cry and suffer. I stonewall their stimulated assholes happily and would do it again! They even put pity on the term ‘assholes’, maybe deutschbag fits the glove more appropriately. My mum and their mum even think he is a German word for ‘douchebag’.  I will never stand for it! SCREAMING IN MY HEAD, until they feel the abuse I felt when I could not open to them, believe that they wanted to be with me, cared for me, actually only had good honest intentions. That person cannot handle being dumped, dumped from a friendship, roommate, short lasting fantasied lust filled fling. I would never feel like that person in their shoes, they have no clue what I am going through, I must save myself, no help or support needed!!!! Just some people who are by my side 24 hours a day that live in my house, just them forever!! I’ve gaslighted them into no realty, all their peers think they lost it, why not they fit the part, so hey why not, I make the plot twist. That fool did not know I write, pathetic, I am very good at hiding things! So they must have hidden from me, but I am always ten steps ahead, nobody would every think cute charming innocent me could be so fun filled with my imaginative thoughts to a typewriter! Everything that person does is all about getting back at me, not any sort of their grasp of reality or repressed grief, clueless emotions, horrible poetic fictional writing skills. God, I really cannot handle their grad school writing, I cannot bare to read another of their dysfunctional non grammatic phases, professors who taught them seven years ago must had thought they were in elementary school! It’s their high skillset, writing is!! They must have loved the folders I named ArcGIS 12.3 higher when I was invading their private life based on revenge for fun! RJ is the goddess queen for helping!  Did they cheat his way to a master’s degree, my villain manifesting thoughts believe so! So, it is true! They lack so much intellectual intuitiveness. I will judge Judy them in every footstep and moment they take. I do not relate to them (and therefore they are dead), as my dear friend best famous artist said, she is almost 21, their music is fab!  to me.  I never spoke to them properly for years as a friend or a partner, I have no guilt or shame about what I wanted to do, I never need to apologize for anything to anyone. I will hold a grudge forever. ALSO IF THEY DON” T SELF EDUCATE about pronouns, binary, non..etc. or gender. I will tear them a apart, I would never educate them about it, no they would not listen anyway because I have to show my repressed passive aggressive dominance over this opposite gender because it is so built up in my all my life and now is the time THAT I RISE!!! It was my first time rejecting someone, so I deserve to get to hurt them. Its life, suck it up peasant human, yeah we did not have a fling, we were good friends prior who cared a lot about one another with a strong connection but I can NOT REMEGBER those feelings as I am suffer and they cannot know!! The only way they can make me exhale tongue spit language into this world is by intentionally winding me up, and you know what, they are doing it purposely to hurt me!! TRIGGER ME THIS, TRIGGER ME THAT! I will rage on them but in a micro blog of course! Not because they love the shite out of you or have "abandonment issues" or "poor rejection skills", or whatever excuse they say BPD, NPD traits, they will find out soon anyway I hope so, right? Call me naïve but I am not name calling the childish here. I can break hearts, dreams, one’s reality for any reason I want! I am dominant! I hate drama and their idea of wanting to be bringing it around. I never triangulated them, use them, abused them! Made them burnout on their annoying plans I hated from the start.  I was just struggling with my own things they didn't need to know or understand because I kept it from them.  If I write more infused puzzling fun stories, they might only love me more. I will always judge others with my superior skills and stomp on the peasant of humanity below me.  GUESS WHAT! I do not treat humans poorly; my identity shows this! Never patronize them, fight abuse with abuse, not little ole me! Whiplashing to their eyes, I guess they just did not want another person to die in their life within a six-month period, we handled out grief no existent. Humanity could use cold-hearted souls to just say hi or punish other cold turkey to nonexistence. Revenge, redemption, punishments, unhealthy vents…TO BE OR NOT TO BE! All fiction peoples! 101010 binaries to c langs.

Lol those clueless humans who knew nothing about Tumblr, social media platforms, and spiraled out of control whist in cold turkey trapped lonely insane thoughts, fear of one’s fictional tales being true, shame on them!!!! They self-inflicted loss of mind of worry for the other, but shame! Humans cannot care for others, only blood relatives!!!! My do not bring drama or punish my non existing outside shell down any further! Shame on all all humans who have pathetic skills to mine!

Hii! I’m back yet again to request a Ranboo fic lmao. So we all know that sadly Ranboo has to come back to the US soon so how about reader is irl friends with him and when he gets home they see each other for the first time in a while and the just ✨hug✨ and hang out the rest of the day. Also if you don’t want to do this request or just can’t feel free to ignore this. Anyway hope u have a good day/night! :D

Anon!! Nice to see you again, loyal Ranboo enthusiast! I actually had a draft similar to this however it’s too romantic and that’s a no-no, so here’s my new attempt on this prompt. Also yes I am still alive, thank you for waiting, I didn’t realize how long I was gone!

We’re Satisfied

˖۪⸙͎ Platonic Ranboo x Reader

✧ ཻུ۪۪ 1, 500+ Words

✧ ۪۪Ranboo has been away in the UK for too long, and he knows he has to pay for all that lost time. Somehow your reunion went opposite of what you expected it to be.

ཻུ۪۪Art by Mayloony in YT!

As Ranboo’s long time friend, and the best one honestly (unofficial title but you know Ranboo is just too much of a wuss to admit it), you two have always done things together. Which is why this whole event is such a painful change for the both of you.

You would have joined him, but you are broke. And Ranboo is too broke to afford two airplane tickets just so you can stick together. That would have been the perfect arrangement but not all things go your way even if it was meant to be.

So with a tearful, dramatic airport send off, and the promises of nightly updates and souvenirs, your inseparable duo goes its separate ways.

That was almost five months ago. Four months+ of watching your friend through the screen and talking only through calls, sometimes with how frequent he updates you, it almost felt like you were never that faraway from each other. ALMOST, at least. At the end of the day you couldn’t comfort your friend as much as you could when he felt under the weather when he first arrived in the European country, couldn’t smack his arm when he made an awful joke. But most importantly-

You COULDN’T celebrate his BIRTHDAY TOGETHER.

“I’m glad you had fun on your birthday,” it was almost midnight for him and the sun is on its way to set for you.

“Mhmm, you don’t sound too happy tho,” you sputtered protests at your friend’s accusation which he silenced after continuing his speech. “What’s wrong? I know what you sound like when you’re repressing something, come on, tell me.”

“Sometimes I despise that you know me so well,” you heard his breathy chuckles at your defeat, held back as to respect the sleeping housemate in his vicinity. Ranboo always made it a point to call you at the dead of night when Toby is likely to rest, so as to respect the privacy of your conversation. Despite the fact that it’s mostly him that’s the topic. “I’m just sad we didn’t get to celebrate your 18th birthday together. You know, like we planned before?”

I almost forgot about that! You heard Ranboo’s distant voice failing to mask his surprise and forgetfulness at the other end of the line, squinting despite him not being able to see it. “I remember, we were gonna buy the ride-all-you-can pass for that one amusement park - ” Six Flags, you mumbled to yourself. “ - and spend the whole day together until we’re dead tired to go on...”

Silence permeated the call.

“I miss you so much, ‘Boo.”

“I miss you more. Hey, at least I’ll be coming back there very soon. Then I’ll do my best to make up for the four?” Almost five. “Almost five months that I’ve been gone until you’ve forgotten that I was away in the first place. How’s that sound?”

Well it sounded good on paper. BUT NOT IN PRACTICE.

Before Ranboo even boarded the plane to America, he’d specifically instructed you to not come into contact with him since he wanted to quarantine himself to make sure you don’t get infected if he did somehow contract the virus. Which was BULLSHIT, he didn’t have to do that (it wasn’t mandatory now) but if there was anyone more stubborn than you, it was Ranboo. But sometimes there are instances where you out-stubborn the oreo man.

So when Ranboo finally got out of the car and saw you standing mighty and proud in front of his house, you expected him to scold you for doing the exact opposite of what he wanted. Or even kick you out of his lawn to enforce his distance (even though you got explicit approval from his parents that you can come over). But no, none of that happened, in fact the opposite of your predictions happened.

The sound of his backpack dropping on the sidewalk pulled you out of your challenging stare, and next thing you knew a Ranboo-sized teddy bear is draped on you for a hug - oh, no, wait, that’s actually just Ranboo himself. Confused yet happy about winning, you wrapped your arms around your friend.

His whole body sagged more at the returned hug.

“What happened to quarantining - ?”

“Shut up.” You gladly did so.

You’ve thought the miraculously tearless reunion would have ended after screaming about haunted canned beans and helping him unpack his four luggage filled with his setup. You even got some of the prizes he won from that one carnival they visited in Tommy’s vlog (a stuffed toy of your favorite animal! Although in your least liked color, eh beggars can’t be choosers) but it seems surprises didn’t stop there.

Ranboo announced his arrival in the room with a jingle of keys, distracting you from reading the words on the box of his Youtooz (oh yeah he gave you three of those) to see him leaning against his room’s doorway in a fresh set of clothes. When you didn’t budge and only gave him a confused stare, your friend shook his head and raised the keys again - car keys. “Let’s go.”

“Go?” You followed his footsteps when he made his way towards the front door. “Oh, go home.”

“What? No, you dummy, we’re going out to eat. If there’s anything I missed in the UK, it’s American fast food.” You elbowed his side sharply, making him almost keel over. “Ow - and you too, I guess.” You elbowed him harsher this time.

After getting several take-outs from multiple drive-thrus, Ranboo parked to a permitted cliffside view of the city to eat by the hood of the car. With the company of good food, your Spotify playlist, and your friend on the flesh all is well. Conversation came easy but this time you did most of the talking seeing as Ranboo had told you everything that he could in the phone daily, it was your turn to update him on how things had been on your end.

From classes, city news, other friends, anything interesting you haven’t told him yet. It was as if he held on to your every word no matter how significant or insignificant they are, while munching on his American-approved burger. Oh god, he’s going for his third burger.

“Hey Ranboo.”

But he beat you by calling out your name while staring intently on his unbitten burger. “Hey, do you have plans for the future already?” You’re painfully aware of the fact that he won’t look at you directly. In fact he won’t look at you at all, no shades to cover up that fact.

“Uhm, well I’m not sure about the specifics other than maybe study, work. I haven’t thought of the details yet. Why?”

“Live with me in the UK.” There was a second too long of a pause in your reaction that unnerved Ranboo enough to force himself to look at your form - eyes wide, pack of fries threatening to fall out of your hold, and mouth hanged open he worries it might fall off too. “My friends are thinking of living in a house together in Brighton - “

“You sound like you’re proposing.”

“Weeeell,” you laughed at the way his voice turned high-pitched in an effort to cover up the embarrassment of the statement. “I AM proposing on having a join loving arrangement.” You are such a nerd! “Ah you’re right, right. But that’s not the point! Honestly there isn’t even any details about it, it might not even happen and this might just be wasted effort that makes me even stupider than - “

“Sure.”

“Oh... just like that?”

“Huh? You want me to get back to you with an email, what?”

“Well I mean, I expected you to like - not? accept? something so out of the blue. Actually that’s kinda worrying, have you been like this since I was gone? We need an intervention, who knows what else you got yourself into. What HAVE you been up to - "

“Ranboo.” The bits of lettuce flying around dangerously from his animated hands almost hit you. “I mean, you did say your stay there had been fantastic, and you met such nice friends there. Even if I’m your best kept secret,” you nervously ate a fry as Ranboo patiently waited for the end of your statement, your voice significantly quieter, “we’re a duo too. We’re supposed to be a package deal even if not everyone knows that. So wherever you’re going, I’m going.” You spoke the last sentence with more will than ever.

Both of you are satisfied enough with just eating the last bit of your oily food in the company of each other, basking in the afterglow of the sunset in silence. Just you and him, finally.

Despite the uncertainty of the future, despite the fact that whatever you two decide on right here right now may not matter in the end, at least for now your conviction is set on being with Ranboo. And even if the big decisions made today may not hold up in the end, Ranboo seemed satisfied with the outcome as the skin around his eyes wrinkle up from his smile.

“Happy birthday again, ‘Boo.”

“Thanks. You too.”

The illusion of peace and quiet breaks after two seconds with you trying to hold your laughter, and Ranboo desperately trying to save face.