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#it's only natural for him to have made certain assumptions

indecisitivity · 4 months

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Jack: welcome to the "fuck the Chesapeake Ripper/Hannibal Lecter" support group, where we gather to say a collective "fuck you" to that stupid bitch Hannibal Lecter, the man who ruined all of our lives Jack: but first, a few words from our newest member Will: (sweating) so... I may have misunderstood...

#look alana invited will okay #it's only natural for him to have made certain assumptions #nbc hannibal #hannigram #hannibal #has this been done before?#probably

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celluloidbroomcloset · 6 months

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The love declarations throughout Season 2 provide an interesting connection between the characters, and the assumptions they make about other people's feelings.

Izzy's statement, “I have...love for you, Edward," reads initially as a love confession, but the wording itself is important. Izzy doesn't say, "I love you." He says, "I have love for you." This is coupled with the statement that Izzy and Ed understand each other better than anybody, and develops into Izzy invoking Stede's ethos, which prompts Ed's escalation to discussing the "toxic atmosphere" with the crew.

But Izzy's love confession is a vague, imprecise statement—it’s saying that love exists in some way, and that it is a possession of Izzy's, not something he gives to Ed. It's spoken with hesitation, which makes both character and situational sense—Izzy is trying to express concern to a man completely past concern for his own well-being, and the statement is roundly dismissed. It is not something Ed wants to hear, nor does he seem to believe it.

Ed's later statement, which Izzy never hears, is equally as vague—“I loved you best i could.” Ed’s statement is also past tense, and can only be made after Izzy is supposedly dead. Whatever love existed there doesn’t exist anymore. There's a deliberate vagueness to both statements that make them difficult to interpret, which seems to be the intention of the writing. For Ed, it is a statement of finality, not even made within Izzy's hearing—Izzy is dead, and he's about to be. For Izzy, it is an attempt to bridge a gap that he helped create, and that he still insists doesn't exist.

This must be read through the full arc of the relationship. Izzy insists he understands Ed, but throughout Season 1 he misses or misinterprets Ed's behavior through the narrative he's created for himself. Stede is a "seducer" who has "done something to my boss's brain." Ed is "half insane" with "increasingly erratic moods." Neither of them are fulfilling the roles that Izzy has assigned them, and them moving outside of those roles confuses and angers him.

The toxicity is not all on Izzy's side. Ed is incapable of breaking out of the toxic pattern by himself. But it is Izzy's fundamental and continuous misunderstanding of who Ed is, filtered through his warped sense of love and duty, that creates the toxic atmosphere, as he systematically murders all Ed's softness. "I have love for you" is another extension of the warped nature of their love (whether this is read as unrequited romantic love or more familial). It is about possession, even bribery, rather than an offer of love without condition.

In "Fun and Games," Stede’s love confession is unequivocal—he’s stopped from directly saying “I love you,” but he continues with “I love everything about you.” Even in his attempt to finish the first sentence, before he's cut off, he's very deliberate. He emphasizes every word, without hesitation. He looks at Ed, not past him, as Izzy does. He is certain of his love.

(gif by @kiwistede)

Stede's love is simple—“it feels good”—and it is unconditional. Stede loves everything about Ed, including the facets of him that he believes make him unlovable. Stede also doesn't demand an answer, nor does he wait for one—"You don't have to say it back to me." Again, the statement is unconditional; Stede believes Ed loves him, but he's not going to insist, even with silence, that Ed say it.

Stede's love throughout has been unconditional. He does not demand anything of Ed. He does not ask to own or possess Ed's body or his love, but gives himself. He doesn't seek to define who Ed is, but to be allowed to love him as he is.

Ed’s later confession to Stede is equally straightforward. There are no prevarications or conditions—“I love you. I love you.” The emphasis means as much as Stede’s longer speech; Ed knows what it means to love Stede. He too doesn't insist that Stede say it back, because the surety of their love existed from the start. Stede has never doubted it, and Ed no longer doubts it either. Stede can say, "I know. I know that," because they have both always known.

The complicated love between Ed and Izzy has been too warped by toxicity, control, and manipulation to survive. It is "having love" not "loving," tied with a desire to define and possess without ever actually understanding. The love between Stede and Ed is about understanding and wanting each other within and without their individual personas and performances. It's the unselfishness of true love, uncomplicated and unconditional.

#ofmd #ofmd season 2 #our flag means death #ofmd meta #edward teach #stede bonnet #izzy hands #ed teach #blackbonnet #gentlebeard #gif #i have a sense someone may yell at me.#long post #my wee thoughts

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lxvvie · 8 months

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ᴍᴏᴋɪᴛᴀ.

pairing: Simon 'Ghost' Riley x GN!Reader word count: 885 cw: angst (babygurl is pining), smut (especially towards the end), friends (?) with benefits (will it stay that way for long, though? 👀 ) note: I used my list to lay the foundation for this fic. again, credit to @ceilidho for being the inspiration behind this work.

mokita (Papua New Guinean) - the known but unspoken truth; the elephant in the room.

You reasoned that you were one of the most avoidant people on the fucking planet and if that assumption was true then Simon was the biggest glutton for punishment you ever had the pleasure of knowing.

It was goddamn pathetic the way you two danced around each other, always cognizant of but unwilling to address the elephant in the room. At least you weren’t.

At least you could still pretend that it was just sex, nothing more, and the haze from his cigarette smoke was too exquisite to penetrate.

He brought it up again, this time in person. Or, rather, he tried to. You feigned ignorance as always, too caught up in the blur of that post-coital high to truly notice the shift in the air and the way Ghost studied you, cigarette dangling almost carelessly from his lips. Those same lips that blessed your skin and took you to heaven.

Those same lips that spoke and brought you down to hell.

If you were being honest with yourself, the high wasn’t just from the sex. And if you could also be honest with him, you’d tell him you missed him, missed the dip of your bed from his body and the pungent smell of smoke, and maybe, just maybe you could say you were avoidant no more and this dance would come to an end.

Maybe. But in Ghost’s world, where only two things were certain, there were no maybes. Shades of grey, sure, but it was driven by absolutes just the same, and this scared you. Honestly.

You refused to entertain those thoughts, refused to leave that high and let his scant but stilted words drag you further to hell, and the dance continued. You scoffed, told the bastard he just missed your body, and the air shifted again.

He said nothing but the strength of his stare remained. Ghost put his cigarette out and showed you again just how much he missed your body—how fucking delusional could you be?

He made you look him in the eyes the next time he fucked you.

The high persisted and you didn’t see or hear from him for roughly three weeks.

The next time you saw Simon, he looked just like you felt: pitiful. To be fair, it hadn’t even been a day yet since he got back from his latest assignment and if you could be honest with yourself and him, you’re thankful for it.

He called when he was away. The first time you saw it, you ignored the pang in your chest and deluded yourself into thinking it was an accident. The second time you saw it, the fog cleared and the reality left you angry. You took it out on him in forced laughs, poorly timed jokes, and fervent dismissals and he soldiered through, listened to the bullshit you spouted with scant words and when it was all said and done, your lip quivered with false satisfaction.

Ghost had tried to end this dance in person again.

It was one of those moments where you wished the two of you were in bed, dreaming of things that were within arm's reach but couldn't possibly hope to have. The smell of nicotine and sex would hang like a tepid cloud again and you could at least pretend not to notice how utterly pitiful you both were.

You settled on watching the scar beside his lip. He never told you how he got it—you never bothered to ask but then again, he wouldn't have told you anyway—and the thought offered temporary respite. He started to speak, gruff and uneasy, everything that reminded you of how pathetic this all was and it came like a fucking torrent.

It destroyed everything.

You giggled like a goddamn child and then it turned into laughter. It felt forced. It felt natural and comfortable. It was everything you were feeling and it wasn't anything at all and if Simon didn't think you were full of shit then, he absolutely did now.

And god, what fucking fools you two made.

He left. He didn’t even fuck you.

It was a month before you heard from him again.

Simon is a diamond in the rough, that bastard, toughened exterior guarding gruff gentleness.

He lets his actions dictate what his words can’t.

He fucks you like a man starved, for what you don’t know—stop being fucking delusional. Your body quivers with each thrust and you choke out a gasp, remembering the time he made you look at him as you came, made you remember him and his dark eyes and if you were being honest with yourself, you haven’t stopped thinking about them since.

Fuck. Fuck you, Simon.

You bury your face in the crook of his neck to escape, to embrace the high and go to heaven once again.

The look in his eyes remains as he studies you once again in the aftermath and you wish like fuck you could forget. The dip of your bed from his body, the pungent smell of his cigarette, the torrid high you’re riding… Christ, you’re both pathetic. Pathetically in love, pathetically in lust, you didn't know. You didn’t want to know.

But the dance continued, his dark eyes penetrated the fog, and now you’re back on a slow boat to hell.

Fuck you, Simon.

#call of duty #nsfw.#call of duty modern warfare 2 #call of duty modern warfare #simon ghost riley #cod modern warfare #call of duty modern warfare 3 #simon riley x you #simon ghost riley x reader #ghost x reader #call of duty x reader #simon riley x reader #x black reader #call of duty x black reader #task force 141 #cod x reader #cod x you

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galedekarios · 2 months

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okay so I was thinking about when the player first meets Gale, he immediately clocks them as coming from the nautiloid even though A) we never see him anywhere on the nautiloid, and B) we don't psychically link with him via the tadpoles during his introduction.

this has been plaguing my brain because it leaves two options. either 1) Gale correctly deduces the player was on the nautiloid just because why else would they be out there in the wreckage, or 2) he encountered the player sometime before they pulled him out of the broken sigil but didn't/couldn't approach them for one reason or another.

so this is my roundabout way to ask if you have any headcanons and/or theories of why Gale recognizes the player right from the jump. I'm inclined to think that he saw the player on the ship some point before it starts to crash, because when he brings it up, he starts with "I know you, don't I?" which, to me, makes it seem like he recognized them rather than made an assumption about them. but I would love to hear your thoughts about it!

(P.S. I LOVE your Gale meta/analysis posts! they are so well thought out and beautifully written ❤️)

thank you so much for your message and kind words! 🖤

i also do find it very, very interesting that both in early access and in full release, gale recognises the player right away.

this is his intro after he appears from the netherese teleportation rune from early access:

(Gale appears from the Netherese Teleportation rune) Gale: You’re alive. That’s unexpected. Last I saw you, you were laying in a crucible’s worth of blood, an intellect devourer nibbling at your ear. Glad to see my eyes deceived me. I’m Gale. Well met! Player (Option 1): Well met. You were on the ship as well, I presume? Gale: The very same. A traumatising experience – if an instructive one.

and his intro from full release is, as you've already mentioned:

Gale: Say, but I know you, don't I? In a manner of speaking. You were on the nautiloid as well. Player: I was, yes. Gale: Then I can only assume you too were on the receiving end of a rather unwelcome insertion in the ocular region.

i do think, with the way both introductions are worded, that it's extremely likely that gale did see the player on the ship.

now where we can speculate is where and how that may have taken place.

the early access dialogue implies that the protag was not in a pod when gale saw them, despite them waking up in one when the game begins, just as in the full release version.

we do know that captured victims are immediately placed inside a pod when they're captured from the trailer/intro cinematic:

which makes it likely that gale saw the protag while having been taken out of the pod and maybe guarded by intellect devourers, or perhaps transported somewhere, or even after an escape attempt they do not remember.

as for gale himself, we do know that wizards are able to manipulate the pods themselves to open them with a successful dice roll:

(taken from one of my early access gifsets)

we also do know that gale is master of his craft as a prodigy, ex-chosen, archwizard, scholar and researcher, and graduate of blackstaff academy. it doesn't seem unlikely to me that he may have found a way to break out of his own pod to try and escape what would surely otherwise be a death sentence for him and others for multiple reasons.

i do think gale's wording again makes it sound as if though he'd already escaped the pod in which he was likely trapped in, too:

Player: Never mind the nautiloid. How did you get stuck in that stone? Gale: I don't know what transpired exactly, but the ship broke into pieces and I suddenly found myself in freefall. Gale: As I was plummeting to certain death, I spied a glimmer quite near where I estimated my body to impact with less-than-savoury propulsion. Gale: Recognising this glimmer to be magical in nature, I reached out to it with a Weaving of words and found myself on the other side as it were. Gale: How about you? How did you survive the fall? Player: To be honest, I haven't a clue. Gale: Fair enough. But even so, I have the unfortunate suspicion your survival is still very much in jeopardy.

as for the mind link (which can happen later at camp), i do think it's also important to keep in mind that just because the player doesn't feel the mind link or connection or even so much as a tickle of the tadpole, it's not unlikely that gale can feel it from his side. his mental defences are high enough so that the player can't sense the tadpole, but i don't think that is necessarily the same for gale.

so, all in all, i do think, considering everything we know, the most likely scenario here is that gale saw the protag - perhaps even while trying to orient himself / try to find a way out - on the ship and that the player does not remember him for whatever reason - and given the circumstances here, those reasons could be plentiful (unconsciousness, disorientation, dazedness like the woman we found trapped in a pod adjacent to the room we find shadowheart in, etc.).

again, thank you for your message! 🖤

#gale dekarios #gale of waterdeep #baldur's gate 3 #bg3 #baldurs gate 3 #ch: gale dekarios #vg: baldur's gate 3 #series: baldur's gate #meta: mybg3

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intotyun · 6 months

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Analysis on aizen's goals and motivations + why he actually lost

Since bleach cour 3 is coming out so much later, I thought I should do an analysis on aizen, mainly focusing on his goals and motivations.

So one thing that is made abundantly clear is that aizen's whole reason for going to war with the gotei 13:

1. Change the world that is built on treachery and lies

2. By overthrowing the soul King and become God itself so he can rebuilt it in his image.

“That's an argument only a loser would make! A victor should speak on how the world should be, rather than how it currently operates. I refuse to accept the world ruled by that thing! I am a victor, I shall decide how the world should be! ”

Don't think I have to do a word for word analysis on what Aizen meant here. But what's interesting is how aizen referred to the “soul king” as THAT thing, as if his disgusted and we all know from cfyow how the soul king was betrayed and mutilated by the 5 nobles and used as some linchpin because they were terrified of his power. The 5 nobles then went on the rebuild the world in their image. And when they “rebuild it in their image”, they were actually rebuilding a world that would benefit ONLY them.

And we see how this image they built turned out: the current soul society.

Soul Society is a very shitty place to live in if I'm being honest, and I'm pretty sure someone as smart as Aizen would have noticed this. I always headcanon him as someone who lived in the Rukongai District, so he would naturally see first hand on how the world operates.

Aizen does not have a backstory, but I'm certain that something tragic must have happened in his past for him to be SO motivated to change this world. I'm sure Aizen did not suddenly want to become a God when he was first born (as funny that would be). He took on that role because

1. He had the power to do so and

2. No one wanted to

Aizen's "loser" speech was directed to Kisuke telling him how he despised him for not taking action despite his intellect. Which is why I think Aizen isn't really a egotistical man per say who wants to overthrow God because he believes he is superior. If God was doing his job and making life after death a “true paradise” instead of “a hell hole”, Aizen would have never tried overthrowing him.

And this is also why I don't think Aizen would have mind if someone else such as Kisuke became the soul king. Just as long, they had the intellect and power to change this horrible world. But since no one could see what he can see, Aizen took on the manter to change the world as he had the power and intellect to do so.

Now we all know what aizen's main goal and motivation was: to change this stagnant and shitty world that only existed to benefit the 5 nobles.

Now we move into another goal and desire that is a bit personal. Something that was locked away in Aizen's heart. Something that can only be found if you are on equal footing with him and can feel his sword.

the goal to find an equal.

this was stated clearly by Ichigo when he said, “perhaps he has been searching all this time for someone to regard as his equal” now I don't think kubo would dedicate 2 pages of Ichigo talking about Aizen's loneliness just for it to be simply “Ichigo assumption” I think this was Kubo's way of telling us readers this was how Aizen was truely feeling deep down.

Now, what exactly did Ichigo meant by equal? Did he mean in terms of strength? Well, we have yamamoto for that. How about in terms of intellect? Kisuke has the same kind of knowledge Aizen has. How about a combination? Is there actually anyone who is both smart and strong? nope it's just Aizen.

Then why do people say Ichigo was the only one who Aizen regarded as an equal? Ichigo definitely does not see eye to eye with Aizen's idealogy. Ichigo is strong yes, but that can't be the only thing considered to be “Aizen's equal”.

What is considered being “Aizen's equal” is the ability to understand him as a person and also understand the burden of his strength (really reminds me of gojo)

But you see, at the end of the day, Aizen has not find that equal. Ichigo is not that equal, he can never understand Aizen. He has no idea of his past and had no idea of what exactly pushed him to the edge. He can only understand more aspects of him than the other soul repears. And that is just very.... depressing. I truly think the only reason why Ichigo prolonged that battle, was so he could understand Aizen more. But he gave up when Aizen kept evolving and remembered why he came here.

Why did Aizen actually lose?

First let's mention about the traitor trio relationship.

First we have Tosen, the one Aizen killed.

Toswn served Aizen even before he became a shinigami. He saw the corruption of the Soul Society and believed that Aizen is the only one who can remake it to a better world. But where is he now? Oh that's right, gone.

In cfyow vol 3, page 370-375, the author described aizen and tosen relationship as “close” very bold choice of words given the fact we barely see Aizen being “close” to anyone. But this is backup with evidence:

1. Aizen able to sense the soul of Kaname vanishing, and then the author went on to say, "the soul of the man with whom he shared a destined relationship with; the man who was his confident"

2. Aizen respecting Tosen's wish to be killed if he ever started to accept the world of the shinigamis

3. Aizen telling himself, “sometimes, fear is necessary for evolution” when Tosen asked aizen to kill him.

I think Aizen truly did care for Kaname in his own way and not just use him as a means/tool. He formed a genuine bond with him though I wouldn't go to an extend and say he was an equal. As the only thing he saw eye to eye with Aizen was the state of the world.

And next, we have Gin the one who betrayed him. I believe Aizen knew deep down Gin was going to betray him but kept him around out of curiosity, and he wasn't bullshiting his way. But what I want to talk about is this panel of aizen after killing Gin and seeing everyone around him suffering. He looks... sad???

But why? Does that mean deep down in his heart, Aizen cared for Gin? I mean looking back Gin was a child prodigy something Aizen could probably relate to (as Aizen was also born with exceptional talent and strength)

I think this is the moment where Aizen was slowly beginning to have the desire to lose. He lost thr espada and the only 2 confidents he somewhat cared for. He truely has to stand above the heavens alone. But Ichigo pulled up and obviously Aizen has to put on the facade of “i'm stronger than you”

now, let's move on to the fight

“Let's do this Aizen real quick. It will be over”

But then, when they clash swords, he feels Aizen's sword and the loneliness coming out from it, it probably made Ichigo curious. This was not the Aizen he faced before, the Aizen he faced was confident and showed no signs of "loneliness".

Ichigo says this but goes on to prolongs the battle and keeps asking Aizen a bunch of questions. You can see it as Ichigo flexing on Aizen but I think Ichigo truely wanted to end this battle quick by all means necessary.

This isn't Ichigo flexing, this is Ichigo trying to understand Aizen. But I guess since he spend so much time in the dangai, he probably cannot properly ask aizen like how he would normally do in his battles.

Asking him questions that Aizen asked him before as he thinks this Aizen would be feeling the same thing ichigo did when he first faced aizen. Trying to relate to him and overpower him to tell Aizen, “hey i'm stronger than you, you arent the only one with overwhelming strength in this world”. Trying to relate to Aizen.

Obviously, this doesn't work, and Aizen gets angry and transforms into monster aizen.

Ichigo is confused and looks so sad, his probably thinking, "I don't get it. Why is he doing this? Doesn't he hate his strength? Shouldn't he feel better knowing that there is someone else as strong as him? Dosent he want to lose?"

“I see, so you cannot allow it, hogyoku. You can't forgive me...”

this was the beginning of Aizen's downfall: relying too much on the hogyoku. Aizen talks to the hogyoku as if a shinigami talks to its zanpakuto. The more he bonded with it, the more the hogyoku forged a relationship with him and read deeper into his heart.

Monster Aizen managed to damage Ichigo and I guess since he realised that lives were at stake here, he gives up trying to understand Aizen and ends it. You can see the look Ichigo gives to Aizen's “dead” body and his reaction when he found out he was still alive.

“Hogyoku has determined I no longer need a Zanpakuto!”

Once again, Aizen relies on the Hogyoku rather than his own zanpakuto. His zanpakuto is not disappearing because he has become more powerful. it's because he himself has replaced it with a new weapon.

And once that was done, the Hogyoku managed to bond with Aizen more, and it read deeper into his heart and ultimately saw what his true desire was. The desire to be normal so he can relate to others. So the Hogyoku granted Aizen his wish.

In the end, Aizen lost because he himself does not understand what he truely wants: to be a god or to connect with others. In contrast to Ichigo who has fully accepted himself.

*btw I believe aizen did lose his zanpakuto here, but during the events before tybw, well he did alot of reflection with himself and his zanpakuto spirit and thus, he got back his powers which is probably why he didn't know who yhwach was seeing when he was fighting him

TYBW

In tybw we see Aizen back again, even more stronger than before as stated by urahara and it also seems he has kyoka suigetsu's power back again.

And from what we can tell, Aizen is back to his normal "arrogant" self with a little twist. Starting with his interaction with yhwach.

Aizen pokes fun at yhwach for “having more trouble with kurosaki Ichigo” then he had forseen. But Yhwach refutes back at him and tells Aizen, “not to project his insecurities onto me” (lmao yhwach) but funny enough, Aizen dosen't even try and talk back. He instead ignores him and tells yhwach he plans to stop him.

“so you see me as Ichigo Kurosaki? Fascinating...”

another moment where the old aizen wouldn't have done: using himself as a shield/sacrifice to help to defeat the enemy. I guess yhwach was right, “to join forces when confronted by a common enemy, is this not the actions of those cowards you detest so much?”

Not only that, aizen was trusting the fact that ichigo could figure out that he activated kyoka suigetsu to deliver the blow to Ichigo. A complete contradiction on his statement on “trust is the same thing as reliance”

People always see that moment as a badass moment, but personally this was when I knew tybw aizen was not the same aizen as before.

This is probably why Aizen was getting stronger, he is not scheming anything anymore, and thus has no choice but to do a reflection on himself and has to come to terms with his conflicting desires. The more he understands himself, the more stronger he would become.

And lastly, we have iconic panel of Aizen speech on courage.

There is nobody in bleach that embodies the word "courage" more then Ichigo. He experienced all kind of defeats which shaped him as a person. Even when he was faced with a stronger opponent, never once did he back out and instead he pushed forward and conquered his fear.

Something Aizen was not capable of. Aizen was afraid of his own conflicting desires that lies within deep in his heart. Because he thinks that part of him wont help accomplish what he set out to do and thus, refused to acknowledge that other part of him.

But Ichigo instead accepted both the quicy and Hollow parts as Zangestu. Both who are also conflicting parts of him.

Aizen is definitely returning in the hell arc, szyal stating that the reason why the gates of hell were shut was because of the immense spitrual pressure of aizen. The gotei 13 will have to come to terms that despite how shitty aizen is, they can not deny he is STRONG. And will have no choice but to ask him for his strength. I would really be vv interesting to see how aizen would play out and his role.

#aizen #sosuke aizen #bleach #character analysis #intotyun:analysis

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ekanatsume · 1 year

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Keeping these here bc istg finding doksoo people is like seeing kdj not sacrificing himself

I dont really ship ship them but like the potential they have as a couple i-

If youre a doksoo person, please lemme know bc like i can n o t for the love of god find people who ship them. I just wanna cry about them like 😭🙏

[ID: Tiktok screenshots of Omniscient Reader's Viewpoint fanart of Han Sooyoung and Kim Dokja overlaid with captions about their relationship. The art featured is by more than one artist, but predominantly by BlackBox. The captions read:

1. han sooyoung once said "me, waiting for someone for decades and decades... you think such a thing is even possible? you crazy fool,"

and then we are told about her endless waiting in kaizenix arc, and how she was fighting her best to stay awake for 13 years in the epilogue, for one person, for someone she thought she never waited for, and then it was revealed that she, again, waited for 4 years for certain someone to wake up from his sleep. she diligently visited him every day during his time in the hospital, making sure he's still alive and well even though his soul has scattered away.

2. orv ebook spoiler?

during kaizenix arc kim dokja wrote a love letter to han sooyoung where he told her "write a'story that's for me andme "alone." little did he know that han sooyoung Would do anything, LITERALLY anything to write a story for him alone. why aren't you by her side when she writes a story for you?

3. kaizenix arc shows how much kim dokja means to han sooyoung. she spent 50 years, literally a lifetime, waiting for him. she hold onto the promise kdj told her, where he said he would find her as soon as possible before they got thrown to kaizenix.

she fought her hardest not to forget him. fighting for 50 years, ALONE. for 50 years, she believed kdj would save her. and she believed kdj would one day read her book to save her. and she never blamed kdj for the 50 years she spent. God. it's a pity we don't talk enough about her struggle in kaizenix.

4. This has to be one of the saddest passages in the entire novel.

I will never shut up about doksoo and their captivating interactions. and how astoundingly excellent Sing Shong's writing is: the emotions, permeated the text, and picturing that particular moment visually came with it naturally.

I was moved to tears by her assumption that it was her fault that he started crying and her quick actions to comfort him because she didn't want to keep seeing him cry

Not to mention how Kim Dokja expressed his emotions, which is as uncommon as him not sacrificing his life for KimCom.

All he wanted was some reassurance; to be told, that he's done the best he could the whole time through

Hsy mghtve comforted him for the wrong reasons, but that completed the job nevertheless.

5. when you realize kim dokja's ■■ is "epilogue" and "eternity" while han sooyoung's ■■ is "neverending story". and towards the end we find out about hsy making a promise to kdj that she will write the epilogue, a story, for kdj until the end of time, for eternity, if that's the only way she could save him…

6. how did you read orv epilogue and think han sooyoung and kim dokja are platonic bc i genuinely thought they were canon after hsy's sacrifices for 13 years, and kdj openly saying he loves her story more than anyone else.

orv theme is basically your story = you

7. the fact that kim dokja had actually fulfilled his promise to read han Sooyoung's "boring" novel that has over 3000 chapters even before they both made promise with each other.. he kept his promise for over than 13 years, without both realizing that fact until hsy regained her memories as tls123, and kdj as od.

8. han sooyoung had seen kim dokja's life at its lowest when she first saw him almost lifeless at the hospital she held his hand, feeling the warmth of the hands that had given up of his life, and she cried. and the first thing. she thought of was how to save him. in mere minutes she decided to damn the whole world for him to live and survive she would never let kim dokja to be in that state ever again, not when she is there for him.

9. the whole twsa is a love letter from han sooyoung to kim dokja. she told him to never give up (ch533), encouraged him to find companions (ch75). described so many disgusting foods as delicious so that he could eat them with ease, and not to mention the whole reason why twsa existed was for him to have a reason to live and survive for another day. she wrote all of this for 13 years, so that he could live BEFORE and AFTER apocalypse. she saved him before anyone else could do it. her love is eternal. End ID]

Thenks to @princess-of-purple-prose I DIDNT KNOW HOW TO ALT TEXT AAAAAA. Thenks for doing this ^^

#orv kdj #orv #kim dokja #han sooyoung #doksoo #orv hsy #i would die for them #literally #oh and i found these on google #tiktok basically #but like you can Google doksoo and find these #istg i cant find anything else #ive like seen all the doksoo things out there atp #: (

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builtbybrokenbells · 4 months

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LEX TALIONIS | ORSUS (teaser)

the first ever sneak peak at my first ever fic for beloved twin lane. I hope you’re just as excited for this as I am 🤍

Masterlist | Taglist

“What game are you trying to play, sweetheart?” He asked, looking down at you with a raised eyebrow.

“That depends… what’s your favorite?” You smirked up at him, giving a bat of your eyelashes to cement the flirtation in your tone. He gave a low chuckle, neglecting a response, instead raising his beer bottle to his lips and tilting his head back. As he drank down the liquid, your eyes drifted towards the exposed columns of his neck, his Adam's apple bobbing with each long gulp.

You couldn’t help but think about how foolish he was to expose his very lifeline to you, and although you were not a being of mythical nature and blood was not exactly your thing, you were certain that your lips, or better, your tongue settled gently atop the skin of his jugular would send him straight to his knees. You were tempted to test it out, just to see if your assumptions were correct. You could lean forward and try, but you knew it was best to wait; he would run himself in circles for a few moments before he inevitably landed himself in that exact position.

As he pulled the bottle away from his mouth, the glisten of alcohol making the plush skin of his lips glisten under the dim bar light, his eyes drifted back down towards your face before his head dropped into its earlier position. He was silent for a moment, as if he was trying to understand you better, and then he spoke softly, leaning down so you could hear him over the boom of the stereo system.

“I don’t like games at all, angel.” The sultry tone sent a shiver down your spine, but you did not let it phase you any further than that. Before he could pull away, you turned your head inwards, just enough so that your nose would brush against his. At the sudden touch, he did not shy away like you expected. If anything, he seemed to lean further into you without any hesitation. At that moment, you understood that you were not playing with an amateur; any lesser man would shy away from your strong nature. If you had to admit, him being open to the advance made your desire to play him grow even stronger. “I saw you talking to Josh. Do you think you’re being sly? Playing hard to get?” He asked, the sheer power behind his soft tone making your knees weak and your stomach twist in a knot. “Or are you trying to make me jealous?” If only he knew how extensive your evil truly was, he would never have spoken at all and instead turn away to run. His accusations were nowhere near the atrocities you were intending to commit. “What, you have nothing to say, now? Finally have you cornered?”

“Just don’t think you’d like what I have to say, is all.” You said, placing your empty cup down on the bar top without breaking the position. His eyes were boring into your own, as if he was trying to make you submit to him. In truth, you found his confidence comedic. Of course, you’d give him what he wanted, but he’d be doing you more of a favor than you were doing him. It wouldn’t take him very long to put down the dominant facade and comprehend that he was not the one with the power. “Some things are better left unsaid, Jacob.”

A flame was dancing dangerously behind his pupil, letting you know that there was much more to his character if you looked behind the mask he constantly had on. It intrigued you, making you wonder what would happen if you continued to nurse it with gasoline. Perhaps the explosion would be quite enjoyable, even for days after the disaster. Russian roulette was a game that often seemed tempting, and playing it with Jake made it all the more enticing.

The lights were low, making it incredibly difficult to place the emotion in his eye. Even then, it didn’t matter; all men were the same, and he was already caught on your hook. He was irritated, annoyed at your evasion and your intent to engage in what seemed to be a tiresome game of cat and mouse, but it was not enough for him to lack interest in you. The scent of whiskey on your breath, casted warmly over his lips was drawing him in further, making him wonder if he could still taste it on your tongue if he acted fast enough. He thought he had the upper hand, that he was the one who was charming you, but he could not seem to see that he was playing the game the exact way you wanted him to. He was blissfully unaware, and you were ready for the kill.

“If it means that much to you, Jacob, I’m sure the bathroom is free. Maybe a quick stop might convince you of where my loyalty lies.” The corners of your lips twitched upwards into a small, wicked smile. “Beloved Joshua was never offered an invitation like that, now was he?”

TAGLIST: @gretavangroupie @wetkleenex-gvf @edgingthedarkness @clairesjointshurt @jordie-gvf @lallisonl @writingcold @dannys-dream @ageofbajabule @GVFstuddedmajesty @mackalah @watchingover-hypegirl @earthgrlsreasy @blacksoul-27 @ur-m0ms-blog @Lyndz2names @gretavanomens @josh-iamyour-mama @gretavangirlie @cxffeecakez @stardustjake @highway-tuna @peaceloveunitygvf @dancingcarbon @kiszkas-canvas @thewritingbeforesunrise @myownparadise96 @just-ambam @jakeyt

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randominji · 4 months

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𝐏𝐀𝐆𝐄 𝟏: 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐑𝐈𝐌𝐖𝐄𝐋𝐋 𝐅𝐎𝐑𝐄𝐒𝐓

: I see the key worked... very well then, I expect you to tred lightly little one. This may only be the opening page, but with enough care to details, it could hint to anything and everything for the storyline.

[Additional information regarding scheduling will be down below]

Word count: 1.6k

Warnings: None... (maybe spelling mistakes)

Page unlocked! Click -> here <- to be taken to "your family" character profile page!

Everyone in your small spread of a community knew about the tale of the forest. You've been told of its wits and games, how the shadows always lie. It was the most essential life lesson your parents had to teach you as a child, even before teaching you how to feed yourself.

Never trust the forest.

It was always the number one rule, and therefore, it was always on your mind. This sick game of oppressed "what ifs-" had led to your twisted insights on the woodland, causing a connection of curiosity to stem from deep within.

It fascinated you. How could something so pure and raw as nature be so cruel and dangerous to the wonders that cohabitate with it? How could mother nature simply allow herself to corrupt the good creatures she's tried so hard to bring up?

Capitalism blossoms in every aspect of this earth, a hierarchy of social imbalance based on stereotypical assumptions and power. They always neglect the very aspects that keep them afloat, like nature and its natural decomposers.

You guess that's why imbalance strives on the blood of the incompetent, and you refuse to turn a blind eye to that. Not now, not ever.

"Y/n, where's Maxwell?"

The same impending call of your mother rings out, her voice cutting a clean slate above what was your arguing sister and brother.

"What?!" You respond, sitting up at the mention of Maxwell, your beloved companion and best friend.

"Maxwell? Have you seen him?"

"Uhhh…" You take a second to respond, eyes realigning with the foot of your bed. "Not recently! No?"

Placing the chisel and canvas of your constructed wooden statue down, you raise yourself from your bed with a curious gaze. Where was Maxwell?

The normally occupant spot by the foot of your bed was acquainted with the mangled of a deer's metatarsal bone and a patch of thin black and white hairs. His wool blanket, knitted by your mother, was in a mess, slumped to one half of your worn out mattress and the normally chewed on wood of your bedpost had no fresh saliva on its brutally mauled exterior.

"Maxwell!" You call, only to receive no tip off on his whereabouts. Inching yourself out of bed, you feel a certain dun fill your ears at the sudden sound of what could only be Maxwell's untrimmed nails scattering on the wooden floor.

Shuffling to the only wooden flooring within your shack of a house, you find your best friend, and dog, sitting and staring at the front door.

"What's up bud?" You pause to observe him, not a single bone in his body ached to move, not even his constantly wagging tail. "Do you need to go to the toilet?" You ask, moving to rest your hand on the rusted metal hook you use as a handle.

But still. No response.

"Max?" You mumble, eyes dragging from the tips of his gone pointed ears to the sudden twitch of his moistened snout.

"I'll let you out, but only for a minute. Make your business fast, alright boy?" You give the flat of his head a quick pat before opening the door.

It was apparent that with patience, came eagerness too- as Maxwell had immediately scurried out of the door, wasting no time in looking back as you only watched his silhouette fade into the void of darkness beyond your residence.

A deep feeling of something uneasy settled into your stomach almost instantly. You had already known you had just made the wrong choice.

"Y/n? Did you find him?!"

"Ahh…" you breathe out, eyes frantically dotting around, your vision trying to pry into the small crooks of the shadows as they obscure all light.

Your eyes remain trained on the darkness as the small of scraggy footsteps invade your ears. "Y/n?" It was your mother, you could tell by the rasp of her normally dried throat. Water wasn't all that easy to obtain for your household.

“Yeah…” You pause momentarily “Hey mom, I'll be right back… I'm just getting some fresh air” and with your final words, you had slipped past the poor excuse of a front door and into the chill of the pitched night.

These surroundings felt foreign at night. The friendly wave the grass usually gave you during your walks with Maxwell was now wagging its finger at you, taunting you with the curl of their bladed tips. Even the trees seemed like giant legs, planted firm and impenetrable within the soil like a knife to a gut. The grass was still wet from yesterday's downpour anyway- a certain moisture hung in the air around you, almost suffocating you with the earthy scent.

The thud of your front door hitting your weathered door frame had you jump a small distance forward, your shoes seeming to soak the small droplets of rain that had yet to evaporate from the ground. A small huff bypasses your lips as you begin to move- your steps seemingly careless as you wonder towards the last location you had seen Maxwell- the tree line that boarded the Rimwell Forest and what layed beyond it.

In all honesty, no one from your village had made much of an effort to barricade a defence between your location of eternal residence and the eerie forest beyond. No walls, no warnings, no fences, no nothing. There were as many precautions as there were punishments.

You were only ever to be told to never enter the forest, and if you had entered, you were to be forgotten about till your return- if you ever return.

No one cares about some inconvenient disappearance, especially when the missing person is someone of your social ranking within Croydon. You were merely the daughter of a manual labourer and a forgotten mistress. No one could care less about who you were, especially with your dad suffocating in his ever-building debt.

You've seen the way the poorer families thrash around in a cheap mess, their voices ringing out amongst the whole town due to its small size. Desperate knocks on everyone's front doors would go ignored constantly from the moment they realise this was another missing person case. Parents, wives, husbands, and even close friends to the missing person would demand an investigation, possibly even a board meeting in the small gazebo your poor excuse of a neighbourhood had. They were always a mess, but the responses were always worse.

“They did this to themself”

“They're not of our priority”

“Did they contribute to our society?”

“Are they of any significance to me?”

It always seemed as if the self-proclaimed president of Croydon was too preoccupied with developing what he'd want to administer as “The perfect village.” As he saw it, if they weren't of much importance, they were a lost cause. Someone could always fill the missing gaps, someone less or more able, because at the end of the day, one missing person wasn't much of a problem.

When it came to those of a higher stance in the village, however, it was a whole new story.

Though, thinking this back over… maybe rushing out after your dog wasn't the best idea. You recognise him to resemble a child in a blacksmiths- take your eyes off of him for one moment, and he's gone- but more often than not, he always returns. Maybe you should've had some patience before having left only a few seconds after him. Who knows? Maybe he's already back home?

With a defeated sigh, you look around. Your eyes had completely adjusted to the unusually dark shadows the canopy provided by this point, allowing you to see some finer details in the area. Above you laid a shelter of extended limbs, leaves folded over one another in a shambled pattern. The thick tendrils of tree roots protrude from the ground and arch their backs, a faint rustling sound from your left, then to your right echoed around in this earthy labyrinth.

It was safe to say your hair was standing on end with how eerie everything had gotten. Your senses kicked themselves into overdrive as you examined everywhere you stepped. Every mushroom and ivory bush was consciously noted until something oddly peculiar happened…

“Wasn't that-” You mumbled, your voice lowers into a whisper as you blink at the base of a tree. It stood tall and proud like nothing you've ever seen before- except you have.

That very same carving in the tree- one that almost resembled a rabbit- you could've sworn you saw that a few minutes ago. Had you been walking in circles, perhaps? Or are you just losing your mind?

The cold touch of an old man's finger runs down your spine, a painful shiver following pursuit. Your hand almost darts to the location of the chill as it deteriorates almost as quickly as it had appeared. Your shoulders tense defensively, and your breath hitches within the dry and tightened of your windpipes.

You already knew you weren't alone anymore. Your sixth sense had kicked in. It felt suffocating as you tried to remain as calm and vigilant as possible.

If the rumours about this forest were true, then you sure as hell weren't going down without getting as far away as possible first. Doing a U-turn and running back the way you came from would at least put you somewhere closer to home if you were to die. That way, maybe your family could find you, and maybe find some closure-

What?

You tense again at the sound of a frail twig snapping, a vision of what could be lurking around had you gulping once again. Though, there was something about this sound that made it far more distinct, far more disturbing.

It was as if it was right behind you.

Update schedule: I will try my best to update every Saturday. However, due to events in my life, not every update will be guaranteed. Additionally, on some weeks, there will be a dual post if you're lucky :)

Posts for the first few chapters will be at an irregular schedule as I'd like to have as many people caught up in this before the real adventure begins :^

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roxannepolice · 2 months

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Masters, coyotes and reset buttons

Ok, so this has been going after me for a few months now and probably won't end up as coherent as I'd like it to, but this is also a warm up for finally fixing that stupid article that everyone tells me is good but has been halted by journal paperwork since 2020, so... As always, because there be salt, putting everything under a cut.

There's been this debate on whether the Master should be given a break from appearing for a while and, as always, it's usually taken somewhat hostile as an attack on the character or a particular actor (which. look if this was about acting skills BBC should have never moved from sir Derek Jacobi, period). And I would say the problem lies entirely elsewhere. Namely, circularity vs. linearity.

There has always been a mythical or commedia dell'arte element to the whole concept of regeneration, an archetypal thing in characters going by titles as names and having a certain set of characterisics and narrative functions that go along with those. Hell, commedia dell'arte even has a literal "Il Dottore" whose whole thing is embodying science and education - more often than not mockingly. When you employ Zeus rather than Poseidon in your story that's probably because there be weird sex rather than disproportionate fury. When you choose a paladin class in your rpg that's because you're going to have different skills and make different choices than if you were a rogue. Galahad and Lancelot will go on completely different journeys of nunnery/brothel and rescuing a prince from forced marriage even while they both seek the Holy Grail. When you want your children to have different properties you'll use your mantra to invoke four different gods.

The thing about archetypes, though, is that they are, literally, timeless. Or better yet, outside of time. But stories, narratives are, by nature, linear and timed. There's the beggining, the middle and the end. And of course, the whole fun is toying with the archetype, tweaking and reinterpreting them in specific contexts and stories. And DW has been doing a phenomenal job of it throughout its history, even if occasional nitpicks can be made. Classic Who was perhaps more circular and repeating in its storytelling and - sorry, posession by Marshall McLuhan - this makes sense in a medium where a story airs just a couple of times. There were arcs for each Doctor, though significantly more so for companions. NuWho became much more clear in this, but still mostly managed to keep a neat balance between the timelessness and timeliness.

Take the Saxon's story, which is what kickstarted me spilling here. Not to come off as a canon snob, but I think if he was an introduction to the character it may not be clear just how shocking him dying on the Valiant was. This is the character that was a skeleton, a gooey body snatching snake and a cat to go on living, and has been the Doctor's prisoner, in fact begging them to save them. Ten is 100% justified in his assumption that he'd never kill himself. His death introduced a major shift to their dynamic, especially when framed as fuelled by hatred. The finale in EoT is largely a return from this shift. No, the Doctor didn't only care for the Master because he wanted another Time Lord. No, the Master doesn't wholeheartedly hate the Doctor. They can and will always cooperate when there's a common enemy. As has been the case throughout all of Classic Who.

Enter Moffat era. Now, it's a bit of a cliche to say Moffat is a better episode writer than showrunner, but it being cliche does not make it incorrect. His poetic definitely works better when there's an ending, a specific goal in sight. In singular episodes this works like a charm. It worked terrifically in season 5. But later on there definitely came this element of "keep watching, because this is all heading somewhere, trust me". And all too often the answer was proving less interesting than the question. This was particularly clear in seasons 7-9, with return to Gallifrey being hyped up repeatedly, only to fianlly fall flat. And I guess Moffat realised that and decided to go for a soft reboot in season 10.

Which brings me to Missy and redemption arcs. Now, in our completely not puritan era there's way too much talk of whether characters deserve redemption, and what would account for a redemption, and how that differs between different legal systems, and too little appreciation that redemption narrative is as linear as they get. You get the starting point of sin and have a clear goal of that sin being repaid or undone. Sure, you can dig into that, and question that, and reinterpret that, and cynically cut that, but it always relies on that clear line. And it's obvious that Moffat was aware of how linear he wanted Missy, and indeed the Master in general, to be. The fucking text says that: "where we've always been going". The disagreement is only what that where is. Now, if the story was meant to be lieanr, then it really does make infinitelly more sense to view the events of EoT as a turning point in the thoschei relationship, but the story explicitly shuts that down. Nah, it was more infitely more important to have the initial sin embodied to be killed in the ultimate act of redemption. #symbolism

A slight tangent here. I know that the original plan for Delgado!Master was to have a redemption arc where he sarcifices himself for the Doctor, so I guess it can be argued this was indeed where the story was going all along. But things turned out how they did and people generally don't introduce Moriarty into their sherlockiana to have no actual screentime (literal or metaphorical), as was the original plan.

Aaaand then there's Spymaster. I've seen dozens of explanations of why he is the way he is, and whether that follows logically from Missy's story or not, and whether he might be before her, and whether he undoes her redemption, and blah blah, but the bitter truth is: Chibs hit the reset button. He hit it hard. No, we are not meant to keep in mind the events of s10 when we analyze the spydoc relationship. Again, a comparison to Moffat explicitly bringing up the events of EoT with Saxon, if only to brush them aside as meaningless for both parties. More importantly, if those were meant to affect Thirteen's hostile attitude towards the Master, then she shouldn't have been so shocked with his appearance. She might be surprised he regenerated, but like the whole reason for bitterness over being abandoned would go along with the expectation the Master did survive, that's why they left Twelve in the first place ffs. So, it would look like Chibnall tried to go back to a circular status quo after a linear redemption, and that's certainly what the writing thinks it's doing. Except now that the whole TTC can of worms has been opened, the relationship is deeply imbalanced. Imbalanced in a way that cannot be easily undone. Like, I know the fandom is trying to frame the Master's sense of inferiority as somehow mistaken and fanon!Thirteen certainly thinks so, but that's not what the text is saying. There is a misundertanding going on here, but a misunderstanding that goes on unresolved gets tiresome and frankly masochistic pretty fast. Either the Master should get to the point of understanding that the Doctor is not inherently superior to them because of past or magic of friendship and that they're Kenough, or accept the Doctor as their lord and saviour and martyred god who died so they may live and spend the rest of their days as a lapdog. Which, I understand the fandom may enjoy, but doesn't make for a very exciting story. So yes, there's definitely a linear narrative going on here. One that does need some time in a fridge and exposition of how the Doctor themself feels about their relationship before the character is brought back. Right now we are not in the The clown always gets up again, no matter how often he has been knocked down paradigm only No clowns were funny. That was the whole purpose of a clown. People laughed at clowns, but only out of nervousness. The point of clowns was that, after watching them, anything else that happened seemed enjoyable. It was nice to know there was someone worse off than you. Someone had to be the butt of the world.

Butbutbut, of course, what about Ainley!Master being brought back again and again seemlessly? That's just the thing - Ainley!Master existed in a completely different poetic. He was purely circular. He was the most circular of the Masters. He was as circular as you can get without actually being a cartoon coyote who only falls down when he realises he's midair. I'm not entirely ironic here - there is an inherent trickster element to the Master as a character! Perhaps more Goethe's Mephistopheles that Native Americans' Coyote, but between constanct scheming, shapeshifting and falling into the pits they've dug the elements are all there. And a trickster either endlessly travels between Olympus, Earth and Hades or gets killed by Heimdall.

And before a gotcha of me insanely hoping for a Saxon cameo either in the 60th anniversary or, that being off the table, somehow meeting Fourteen - yeah, in an anti-linear bubble. I've seen speculations that RTD wants to do another soft reboot, hence there's no knowing what Master will pop out of that tooth. As far as I wouldn't like it to be one of pre-Delgado Masters and for the record I wouldn't mind if it is Spymaster!, there's definitely something to the idea there's a soft reboot in The Giggle, with the Doctor "going home". Because you don't necessarily want to know what Odysseus' tax policies were once he reached Ithaka, but you do want to know that he's been a year on Circe's island.

#ok down to the article #doctor who #doctor who meta #dw meta #the master #the doctor #thoschei #philosophy in doctor who #have i come across as praising rtd in comparison to moffat and chibnall?#yeah maybe i generally think he did have the best grasp on what he was saying #tw: negativity #minor? yeah i'm critical

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quirkwizard · 1 month

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The most annoying aspect is why didn’t AFO just give Tomura Overhaul? He could still kill his family by the surprise factor and turning his family to paste and would be more stronger and versatile for future plans. Like have Garaki teach anatomy to Tomura to master overhaul if it requires knowledge or heal up AFO after his fight with all might since Tomura is completely loyal. Plus it would make crime so much easier like overhauling walls to break in and out with no sign of damage or kill/torture someone over and over and not leave fingerprints, heal wounds since Tomura complained about no having a healer in the party. My only guess is that Decay would ensure the family dies. Honestly it feels like Hori knew people suspected that Decay was given, so he tried to add a surprise twist by having be from Overhaul but just ended up raising more questions.

AFO had access to Overclock and Overhaul and didn't keep either of these quirks, or at least a copy of them. These two alone would make for an extremely broken combo. That, imo, is just complete dumbassery on AFO's part.

Its still weird that AFO didn't have a copy of Overhaul because Garaki could make artificial copies of quirks starting with the AFO quirk itself. If Garaki had the quirk him he could have easily fixed and improved AFO after his fight with All-Might

I have a particular question regarding Kotaro Shimura. We know that he and Nana had a rough time after the death of the father and force to let go his son to being raise from foster family. Why didn't All For One track him and brainwashing him to thinking that his mother abandoned him? Why target Tenko, his son to be his successor?

I've already talked about the flaws of him taking "Overclock", that it's an extremely skill reliant power that needed a dedicated user to make the most of, so I'll just talk about everything else here.

I think you are overestimating how much "Overhaul" would by of use to All For One. Yes, I did say that All For One would benefit from "Overhaul" and I stand by that. However, that is my assumption that "Overhaul" is super easy to use. if I were to play devil's advocate, I could put forward "Overhaul" is a lot more complicated then it appears. It's only as strong as it is since Kai is equal parts competent and experienced enough to make the most of the power. This can be further supported if you go with the idea that "Overhaul" was a deviation, which are infamous for being dangerous and unwieldy for even trained users. Whether or not any of this was Hori's intention is unclear, at least to me. What I can say for certain is that "Overhaul" could not heal All For One. While "Overhaul" can fix injuries, it can't reserve damage. If anything is missing or too far gone, Kai can't fix it. It's why Eri is still scared from all the experiments that Kai did on her. The damage that All For One took is far more extensive then that, to the point that not even "Super Regeneration" could fix it. It's why we don't see it healed until he took the Rewind Drug. He needed something that potent to put his body back together.

While "Overhaul" is certainly a more practical power, there were multiple reasons "Decay" was given to Tomura. It prevented Tomura from being able to heal his family. "Overhaul" is meant to reverse any of the damage done, potentially giving Tomura an out from whatever destruction he caused. "Decay" is only meant for destruction. Second is that All For One didn't want Tomura to be too capable. You need to remember that All For One didn't want a true successor. What he wanted was a vessel that he could eventually take control over. For that, he needed Tomura to hate and for that hate to be strong. So he gave him a power that was a constant problem, risking destroying whatever he touched and was only applicable in destruction, further pushing his destructive nature. "Overhaul" would have been too useful to really work with that. Finally, it helped keep Tomura under All For One's wing. It made him easier to direct and influence. We see this all the way when they first interact. It's why he didn't use Kotaro. Going by the flashbacks, Kotaro was a full adult. It could have been that All For One had only just found him and decided to reoriented his successor plan to use Nana's family, engineering the whole scenario to make the successor he wanted.

#My Hero Academia #Quirks #Kai Chisaki #Overhaul #Tomura Shigaraki #Decay #All For One #MHA Meta #MHA Theory

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demontobee · 9 months

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Good Omens queering storytelling/TV – part 2: PLOT/NARRATIVE

Structure: The show does not present us with a traditional “beginning – middle – end” structure of storytelling that goes back at least to Aristotle. That is not to say that it does not adhere at all to traditional structures of storytelling. Remember, queering things is not about doing the exact opposite of what has become the norm (as that would feed into binary thinking as well), but to challenge the norms by playing with our expectations in a way that make us realise that we had expectations and normative assumptions in the first place. So, for example, the traditional structure is challenged and exposed through the first scene of S2, which takes place “before the beginning.” This does not only challenge our perception of how time works in general, but it also tells us that what we thought we knew as “the beginning” of Crowley and Aziraphale’s (love) story was not really their beginning. It was just presented in a way that made us believe it was.

It also presents us with more insight into and background of the characters and their relationship, which might also change how we perceive them now and, in hindsight, perceive them in S1. This scene is there to, among other things, tell us that nothing is absolute about the story, that nothing is as it seems, and that everything depends on perspective, editing and version of narration. Along the same lines, the minisodes we get this season play with our expectations of structure. The Job episode, for example, is placed, chronologically speaking, between the flood and the crucifixion, both of which we saw in the first season. Now, the way they were presented in S1 probably made most of us assume that these were the exact times they saw each other, in chronological order (note here that the minisodes themselves upset the chronology of the narrative). In this season, however, we are presented with another encounter (and a whole story with character development and sexual tension which I will not go into here) that took place between the other two. It not only shakes up our assumptions about what we know about Crowley and Aziraphale’s relationship, it also explains, content-wise, how Aziraphale became such a foodie. (Also note, plot-wise, how Aziraphale’s morally difficult decision to lie to heaven in the Job minisode is juxtaposed with the swiftness of him telling a lie in the present day portion of the episode). It is like we are getting small bits and pieces that together make a whole story, but we do not get them in an order that we would expect, and it messes with our expectations and assumptions. A similar thing happens with the sequel to the 1941 minisode. Again, we were presented with a piece of the story in S1, probably assuming that we were being told the most important bit of that part of the story. However, in S2, we get the rest (or, at least, another part?) of the story about the night in 1941. Again, this new part seems to be rather vital for our understanding of the relationship between the two main characters and the level of trust they have in each other (not to speak of the sexual symbolism and tension of the whole magic trick scenario). What we realized while watching S2 that in S1 we were only told parts of the whole story, and only edited versions of what was going on that showed the characters in a certain way that way relevant to the story then. We can assume that this is also true for S2.

Plot: We do not have the typical “hero has a certain goal in mind and has to go out and overcome obstacles to achieve it and become a better person on the way” journey that informs the plot. In fact, a lot of the 1-star ratings of S2 on Prime criticize the apparent “absence” of a plot, or, the lack of action and “sense” in the plot. This is, in my opinion, due to the queer nature of how and to what end the plot is crafted. Because in S2 especially, the journey(s) and “action” in general are not there to make a given character look good or to show them succeed in a very normative way (hetero, capitalist and otherwise). The events of this plot all seem to be metaphorically or literally about Crowley’s and Aziraphale’s character development concerning emotions, moral values and, most immanently, their relationship. Thus, the plot is there to show character development in a very unmasculine way: Learning to face their own, deepest emotions and being able to communicate them better. And there is not even success (yet) at the end of the story!

This ties back to the characters and the roles they are assigned in the story (which probably deserves a post in its own right). Basically, both main characters are initially assigned roles in a system that they both, in one way or another, are not comfortable with – and thus question, defy, rebel against them. They are initially presented as opposing forces and very different from each other. However, we soon understand that they are both liminal creatures who challenge the binary opposition set up by the system in power. And they do this out of love – for the world, for humanity, and for each other. As if this was not queer enough, Crowley seems to be a genderfluid chameleon who journeys through time and space to find out who or what he is, being the only one on his own side. Aziraphale, on the other hand, sets out seemingly knowing who he is and where he belongs, but gradually shifts in his view of his own identity and that of “his side” until he more or less joins Crowley on the (no longer) lonely side of systemically uncomfortable misfits. They seem to recognize in each other the queerness, not only romantically, sexually or gender-wise, but also in their queer habit of questioning and troubling the status quo (in hope of creating a better world). This is what the plot of S2 is there to explore. Not a whole lot of external action, but the formation of a (forbidden but unbreakable) bond between two confused queer beans who do not always know what they want or need. It is not a story of success, it is a story of being queer in a world that wasn’t made for people like you and figuring out how to exist and to love in this world, with all the breakthroughs and setbacks there are to that.

To conclude, Good Omens is queering plot/narrative by challenging the traditional structure and plotline of normative storytelling, meaning what we expect and assume will happen in a story, and thus gives us, to use the words of Neil Gaiman himself, not what we want, but what we need.

Feel free to add your own ideas in the comments or tags!

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wowbright · 6 months

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Fic: Reservations

Fandom/pairing: Glee, Kurt/Blaine

Event: December Klaine Fanworks Challenge 2023, day 12: rail

Words: ~ 650 words

Rating: Mature

Summary: Cooper gives Blaine a present and some advice.

Notes: This is part of my Mormon!Klaine universe. It takes place after Out of Eden, which I am still in the process of posting to AO3. It’s among the likely possibilities for their future. It’s sort of a continuation of Proposal, and it's rated mature only for dialog.

* * *

Right as Blaine pulled up to the departure terminal at the Phoenix airport, Cooper made a surprise announcement.

“I know you and Kurt were planning to stay with the family of a friend of some missionary you met in Germany when you go to Salt Lake City, but frankly, that's stupid. I mean, if you really want to meet them, you can have lunch. You two must be desperate for privacy after your crazy homecoming.” Cooper tapped something into his phone. “There. I sent you the reservations. Hotel’s right off Temple Square. Can you believe I was able to get you a honeymoon suite at this short notice? It's even got a view of the temple, since you two still seem to be into that kind of thing. If not, I guess you can always close the curtains.”

A notification buzzed on Blaine’s phone. It was an email from Cooper with all the info about the reservation. Even with it right there in front of his eyes, Blaine was having a hard time processing. "Honeymoon suite?”

“Yeah. It's my wedding present to you.”

Blaine's mouth went dry. This was supposed to be a secret. How many people knew? “Wedding... present?”

Cooper put his hand on Blaine’s shoulder. “Look, I know I shouldn't eavesdrop, and I didn't mean to, but if you don't want people to overhear you, then maybe you shouldn't be talking in the kitchen about whether or not Kurt needs to send home for his birth certificate.”

“It was four-thirty in the morning! Everyone was supposed to be asleep! When are you up at four-thirty in the morning?”

"What can I say? I'm unpredictable. Directors love that about me. But I knew you wouldn't, so I had to go back into my bedroom and hide and not get up until 6 a.m. just so you two wouldn't freak out.”

But Blaine was doing exactly that right now. “Does anyone else know? Does Mom know?”

Cooper shook his head. “If you're asking if I told anyone, no, I didn't. And I'm certain no one else knows, or someone would've called a family meeting about it. You're fine. Just be careful.”

“I'm trying. Our family is just so—”

"I wasn't talking about our family. Screw them. I was talking about when you’re in the honeymoon suite. There's a Jacuzzi, and I know how newlyweds are about Jacuzzis. To those who haven't tried it, spontaneous sex in a Jacuzzi sounds like the best thing ever, but it's really not. The water washes away almost every kind of lubrication, natural or man-made. But if you're that desperate to get railed in a Jacuzzi—or to do some railing, or exchange handjobs, or whatever, I don't want to make any assumptions—you need to get some silicone lube and practice applying it first. If a hole will be involved, maybe even put some in there before you get in the water. A little goes a long way. And not your mouth. Do not put silicone lube in your m—”

Blaine hid his face against the steering wheel. “Oh my gosh Cooper, why are you so—” A car horn blared behind them.

“Guess I should get going,” Cooper said casually, as if he hadn’t just been giving Blaine a graphic lecture on sexual safety in hot tubs. “We can't sit in the drop-off zone all day. Hug for your big brother?”

Blaine had half a mind to kick his brother out of the car without even looking at him. But the other half convinced him not to. Red-faced, he leaned over the console to hug his brother. “Thanks, Coop. Not for the unsolicited sex advice, but … you know.”

"Well, I've got a big trust fund from my first mom that our dad was thankfully never allowed to touch, and I've got to do so something good with it.”

"Not for that. I mean, yes, thanks for the hotel, but also…” Blaine trailed off. He wasn't crying, exactly, but he did have to sniffle.

“I know, bunso," Cooper said, rubbing Blaine’s back. "I know.”

#december klaine challenge 2023 #day 12: rail #mormon!klaine #wowbright writes fic #klaine fic #klaine fanfic #klaine fanfiction #humor with feels

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paperhats-and-evil-schemes · 10 months

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Lovestarved (Rewrite)

Flug couldn’t believe it. Defying all of his expectations, Black Hat actually prevented him from hurting his friends. Not only that, but kept his secret from being exposed. He had been so certain that the eldritch wanted [...], but now, with every manipulative and cruel assumption Flug had made being tossed out the window, he had no idea what to think anymore. When he next spoke, his voice was but a meek stutter. “Th-Thank you, sir...” “’Thank you’?” Black Hat repeated, a ghostly twitch of annoyance betraying his smile for just a moment. “What have I told you, Flug? Your… gratitude…” That last word was uttered with notable disgust, “… is gravely misplaced. I only—“ He was stunned into silence when Flug unexpectedly clutched his hand. “You stopped me from hurting them.” The scientist spoke more firmly in spite of how his own hands trembled. Flug dared not make eye contact, instead staring directly at the floor. “Thank you.” He had almost expected to get lashed out at or shouted at for grabbing Black Hat so suddenly, and when he realized his mistake, he immediately let go… but Black Hat did neither of those things. He just stared, expression completely blank to the point of almost being comical, at where Flug had touched him. That doesn’t happen. People don’t touch him. He touches people. On his terms. After the initial confusion wore off, his cold and calculative eyes pierced right through Flug. “… Well.” He finally spoke, flat-toned, “You can thank me by getting rid of those pests outside.”

Okay look I know the White Hat fic’s been a long time coming and I’m definitely still working on it, but oh my god the complete and utter abomination that was the original Lovestarved fic was driving me completely insane, I HAD to give it a revamp for my own peace of mind lmfao, my GOD, IT WAS SO BAD YOU GUYS IDC WHAT YOU SAY I'M SORRY SZTEFA BUT YOU'RE W R O N G LMAO

So anyway, have the not-perfect-but-still-very-much-improved fanfic of a Monster!Flug x BH slowburn in which these idiots keep idioting around each other 24/7 until things happen lol (Btw one of my mutuals recently got instabanned for merely mentioning a certain phrase, so since I’m not sure how tumblr is deciding to auto-flag posts and I don’t wanna go through the headache of having to get my account reactivated again, this post is only the first half of the fic (the safe portion lol) and then there’ll be a link to the AO3 version at the bottom of this post for when things start to get on the risqué side.)

And of course, this fic series is based on this wonderful fic right here!

Previous works in chronological order: Hired, Don’t Try to Run, Lovestarved, Trial & Trust, Deeper Than Skin, A Small Solace, In Sickness and in Health, Benefit of the Doubt, Just Another Word I Never Learned to Pronounce, Merry (Late) Christmas, Compromise

Flug had never intended for this to happen.

Never in a million years had he planned on revealing this part of him to anybody , let alone Black Hat himself. Sadly, it’s not easy to sweep the unfortunate incident of devouring a test subject right in front of him under the rug. Then again, given his boss’s nature of being able to slip into any room unnoticed, perhaps Flug should’ve prepared for such an inevitable possibility.

Oh well. Too little, too late, as some might say. At least Black Hat hadn’t reacted as negatively as Flug thought he might. On the contrary, in fact, Black Hat seemed to find Flug’s otherworldly nature quite amusing. Yet another reaction that his scientist perhaps should’ve expected to some extent.

What he never could’ve expected was the change in attitude, however.

Yes, ever since that day, Black Hat had been treating him differently. It was subtle enough that any bystander likely wouldn’t notice a difference in their relationship. But Flug definitely took notice, especially in how his superior spoke to him.

He was still his usual brash, hostile self, but every once in a while, sprinkled in between whatever myriad of scathing remarks and scoldings Flug would face on any given day (and even those had lessened significantly), Black Hat would sometimes praise him. The first time Flug heard the words “Good work” out of his boss’s mouth, he thought he’d been hallucinating, as that explanation seemed far more likely.

Furthermore, Black Hat continued to surprise Flug by not broadcasting his secret to the rest of the household. He’d been certain that his boss would’ve gotten a kick out of airing his dirty laundry for everyone to see, if only for the sole reason that Flug gravely didn’t want that. Yet, Black Hat held back. Didn’t speak a word about it to 5.0.5. or Demencia. Not that Flug would risk getting too comfortable in that regard, of course. Whatever Black Hat’s motivations may have been, it definitely wasn’t coming out of a place of respect for Flug’s privacy. Knowing his boss, he was probably just waiting for either of their housemates to walk in on him devouring someone so he could indulge in whatever chaos might unfold. Or perhaps there was some other reason that Flug hadn’t considered. He certainly knew better than to try and guess what Black Hat was thinking, regardless.

Not all of the changes in Black Hat’s behavior were so positive, though. For one thing, his unnerving fascination with Flug’s souleater half has led to some rather uncomfortable arrangements. On the one hand, Black Hat providing him with prey saves Flug the trouble of having to sneak around anymore to feed himself, but on the other, his boss had a peculiarly keen interest in watching him eat. That was already bad enough, having to put what Flug had tried so hard to keep hidden all his life on full display like that, but it was made even worse by how handsy Black Hat would sometimes get afterwards.

He had a particular fascination with Flug’s teeth. Whether or not that was out of some twisted sense of humor or out of a genuine curiosity of Flug’s species, the doctor couldn’t tell. All he knew is that it was uncomfortable. Every time those hands crinkled up the edges of that paper bag to expose his bloodied mouth, anxiety spiked within him at the mere thought of his mask being pulled off completely. Luckily for Flug, Black Hat never went that far, for the time being.

“Why do you always do that…?” He had asked once, during one upon too many fang inspections to count.

There was a click of the tongue, Black Hat tilting Flug’s chin whichever way he wanted, as he gave his unconventional answer. “The soul residue intrigues me. Besides, it's the only part of your face I’ve seen thus far. I like to admire it at its bloodiest.” Then he’d flash one of his many shit-eating grins. “Given how long you’ve hidden this from me, I certainly have the right to catch up on what I’ve been missing.”

What could he possibly have been “missing”? He knew Black Hat to enjoy displays of violence the most when they had some heart in them. Flug’s only ever been timid and reluctant in the way that he feeds, unable to understand what entertainment value Black Hat could possibly be getting out of such mediocre murders.

On one particular day, however, the situation differed.

Their domain had fallen under siege by a particularly persistent team of heroes… It would’ve been an all-out attack if Dr. Flug hadn’t activated an emergency forcefield just in time. But for now, all they could do was wait these heroes out until they came up with a proper plan of retaliation. Their anti-hero merchandise was the best there was, of course, but with the sheer amount of opponents waiting outside, the villains were put in a particularly tricky situation.

Black Hat could easily dispose of the problem, Flug knew for a fact. These heroes were mere ants to somebody with his unimaginable power. But, in typical Black Hat fashion, he chose to instead put this job on Flug and Demencia.

While Flug could understand to some extent that such matters were too trivial and boring for his boss to face head-on, he had hoped the demon would’ve made an exception in this case. This situation had cut Flug, Demencia, and 5.0.5. off from the outside world until they could find a way around those heroes, which wouldn’t be a problem if not for the fact that it left Flug without sustenance to keep his monstrous half in check.

Unfortunately for him, Black Hat found more interest in watching how his employees would tackle the problem instead. Because, for him, the slightly-more-interesting route would always be preferred over the easy way out. It’s not like the health of his underlings has ever held priority over his own amusement, so Flug had no right to be surprised. He’d just have to persevere, and he wouldn’t dare complain about his hunger to Black Hat himself. Knowing him, he’d expect Flug to earn his food under these circumstances. The way Black Hat was constantly hanging around the laboratory as he worked further cemented that idea into his mind.

Instead, he threw himself into his work as if that were an adequate distraction. He did everything he could to keep his mind busy, to keep himself distracted from anything that may lead to one of his episodes, but it was so damn hard when these hunger swings can be so unpredictable. One minute, he would be completely fine, but the next…

“Whatcha workin’ on, doc?”

Hunger making him more irritable than usual, the mere sound of Demencia’s voice had been enough to grate on his nerves these past weeks of siege. It was bad enough that his cravings were already slowing him down far too much, he didn’t need Dem’s constant pestering on top of his current inability to focus.

Shaking those concerns out of his head, he was none too kind when he answered her. “Oh, I don’t know, Demencia, maybe a solution to our little problem out there?”

Unfazed by the mockery dripping from his voice, her desire for mischief was left perfectly intact. “Oooo, is it cool? Will it blow ‘em up? Liquidize their insides? Lemme see it!”

She jumped for the flask, and Flug had barely enough reaction time within him to dodge her. “ Stop that! Do you want to get a cloud of knockout gas to the face!?” Flug barked, scrambling to keep his work from falling out of his hands. Once stabilized, he shot her a nasty glare. “Don’t you have anything better to do than bother me?”

“You’re kidding, right?” She deadpanned in response. Dramatically flopping into a nearby chair, Demencia kept up her annoying lamenting. “We’ve been stuck with those dumb heroes outside for like a week, I’m boooored.”

“Well good for you, but since I’m the only one around here that seems willing to fix this damn mess, I need to focus.” Flug snapped at her, voice raising alongside his frustration, “What I don’t need is some brain-dead halfwit breathing stupid questions down my neck the whole time!”

Demencia’s eyebrows shot up in surprise at how intensely he came off. Sure, she could get on his nerves with relative ease, but he usually took it with more grace than that, even at times when he’d sic Hatbots on her. Even Black Hat glanced up from his newspaper upon hearing such unusual hostility growing in Flug, though he reserved comment.

“Ouch,” Demencia remarked, although not especially offended. “Well, sorry Mr. Grumpypants, didn’t realize you were in such a mood today.” She chided him. “You skip your coffee this morning or what?”

Narrowed eyes shot one last dirty look at her before Flug tried to shift his focus back to his concoction at the lab table. Key word being tried , because before he knew it, he was doubling over from pain when his cravings hit him full-force. He was barely able to catch himself against the table, almost knocking over the work he’d previously scolded Demencia for endangering.

Serving up a confused stare, Demencia frowned at him. “Uhh, Flug?”

The ruckus also woke 5.0.5. who’d been sleeping nearby, a worried grunt coming from him as he wandered over to see what was going on.

What Flug had feared all along was now fast approaching. This sort of thing was exactly what Black Hat wanted, wasn’t it? For him to expose himself to the others in as violent a manner as possible? And if so, then where the fuck was he? Flug could’ve sworn he was in the room a second ago, and hell, maybe he was too disoriented to know for sure, but he couldn’t see the demon anywhere.

All he could lock his starving gaze onto was Demencia and 5.0.5., the clueless pair coming foolishly closer to check on him. They’d make easy targets. They were practically offering themselves up on a silver platter. How could Flug possibly refuse the instincts that were screaming at him to eat?

“Okay, Flug, this is weird, even for you.”

For the briefest of moments, he saw his mother, so stupidly drawing nearer in his state of delirium. She should have known better. She made herself too easy of an antidote to his suffering. The exact same mistake that Demencia was making now.

He wished he could tell her to get away. He wanted desperately to warn her of what danger she was in. But he couldn’t speak. He couldn’t stop himself from inching his starving body nearer, itching to dig his teeth into something –

“Demencia, step aside.” Black Hat’s familiar voice ordered from the doorway, yielding immediate compliance from her. With adept swiftness, he strode over to the unhinged doctor and proceeded to drag him away from his coworkers before any damage could be done, exiting the laboratory with Flug in tow, and leaving Demencia and 5.0.5. to their own confusion.

Black Hat dragged him through hallways and corridors, paying no mind to his scientist’s resistance. Flug’s thrashing wasn’t particularly troublesome for Black Hat, although he felt mild surprise to experience a jolt of pain inflicted by Flug’s fangs when they tried to find nourishment in the tendrils that restrained him. Judging from the retching and gagging that followed, Black Hat’s soulless form wasn’t exactly fine dining to him.

They entered a darkened storage room, the only light source coming from a flickering bulb above that fought to stay lit. Within, there laid a hero, injured and bound in place by whatever impromptu restraints Black Hat could find in the moment.

“Eat.” Black Hat ordered as he shoved Flug towards the helpless fool.

As if Flug needed any convincing.

The second he was released from Black Hat’s grip, he lunged for the hero, tearing into him with such ruthless ferocity, ripping flesh out in bloody chunks that were strewn across the room with great fervor. The crackling and snapping of bones that’d dared get in the way of Flug’s relentless fangs was like music to Black Hat’s ears. The only way this could’ve been better was if the hero had remained alive long enough to scream.

Out of breath by the time Flug was through with him, it took almost a full minute for him to regain his composure.

“My my, what a savage display.” Black Hat purred in amusement, drawing nearer to admire the carnage. “You’ve been holding out on me, doctor.”

“W-Wha… Wait, th-this is a hero f-from outs-side, isn’t it…?” Flug queried as he came back to his senses, casting a hesitant glance his boss’s way.

“They make for easy pickings. You looked like you needed something rather immediate.” Black Hat replied, wiping bloodied claws off on his clothes. With a disapproving quirk of the brow, he added, “You could have said something sooner , by the way. It’s not like I knew where your breaking point was.”

Flug couldn’t believe it. Defying all of his expectations, Black Hat actually prevented him from hurting his friends. Not only that, but kept his secret from being exposed. He had been so certain that the eldritch wanted the drama and chaos that would’ve come with him attacking 5.0.5. or Demencia, but now, with every manipulative and cruel assumption Flug had made being tossed out the window, he had no idea what to think anymore. When he next spoke, his voice was but a meek stutter. “Th-Thank you, sir...”

“’ Thank you ’?” Black Hat repeated, a ghostly twitch of annoyance betraying his smile for just a moment. “We have been over this, doctor. Your… gratitude …” That last word was uttered with notable disgust, “… is gravely misplaced. I only—“

He was stunned into silence when Flug unexpectedly clutched his hand. “You stopped me from hurting them.” The scientist spoke more firmly in spite of how his own hands trembled against Black’s. Flug dared not make eye contact, instead staring directly at the floor. “ Thank you. ”

He had almost expected to get lashed out at or shouted at for grabbing Black Hat so suddenly, and when he realized his mistake, he immediately let go… but Black Hat did neither of those things. He just stared, expression completely blank to the point of almost being comical, at where Flug had touched him. That doesn’t happen. People don’t touch him. He touches people. On his terms.

After the initial confusion wore off, his cold and calculative eyes pierced right through Flug. “… Well.” He finally spoke, his voice flat and rigid, “You can thank me by getting rid of those pests outside.”

With that, the demon took his leave. Flug watched him go, blinking slowly as he tried to process what just happened…

… No. He can think about this later. For now, he had an order to carry out.

After cleaning himself up and changing out of his bloodsoaked clothes, Flug returned to the lab with newfound energy and determination. He threw himself at his experiment with ultimate focus, not allowing Demencia or even Black Hat’s presence distract him, despite how intently the latter was watching him.

Flug completed the substance within the hour, and it did not disappoint. Everything went according to plan. Firing the gas bomb at their intruders did the trick, knocking them out just long enough for Demencia to dispose of them without a single issue.

When all was said and done, Black Hat approached the doctor from behind as he disarmed the forcefield, causing him to jump in surprise when the demon patted his shoulder. “Well done, doctor.” He said simply before walking off.

All Flug could do was stare as he left, completely befuddled.

He had always craved Black Hat’s praise, but now that he’d been getting it, it felt beyond impossible to get used to.

The strange behavior, the way he kept lingering about the lab for no discernable reason other than to watch him, how he’d been keeping Flug’s diet in check, it was all just so… bizarre. Flug racked his brain day in and day out trying to solve this mystery, but nothing ever felt like it made sense. It couldn’t be coming from a place of respect, as he knew Black Hat was incapable of respecting him. He doubted it was coming from a place of any sort of concern, as nothing about their routine had actually changed. If anything, Flug was more healthy than usual these days due to Black Hat’s assistance in keeping him properly fed.

Perhaps it was something more akin to keeping a pet. Of course, that must be it. Black Hat likely had him lumped in the same category as Lil Jack these days, just a pet to feed and maintain.

While that dehumanizing assumption made the most sense so far, Flug still couldn’t be sure…

One day, curiosity finally got the better of him. He knew he should know better than to question Black Hat, but he just couldn’t help himself this time.

It was on another day that, as was becoming usual, Black Hat had joined him in the laboratory, overseeing his work from a distance. Flug couldn’t actually be sure how much Black Hat was actually paying attention to the invention he was building, but he worked as diligently as he could under his boss’s silent supervision all the same.

A handray of sorts laid in pieces on the table while the doctor fiddled a screwdriver inside the mechanism. Black Hat had taken to leaning against the wall by the door, not a word spoken by him this whole time.

Flug nervously glanced back at him for a moment, quickly averting his eyes back to the device when he was caught staring. Finally, he forced himself to say it. “… Y-You’ve been… a-acting strangely since you first saw me feed, sir…”

“Strangely?” Black Hat’s cold voice repeated, examining his claws without a care in the world. “What are you implying?”

That ice, that frosty and bitter manner in which his boss spoke, had always rattled Flug’s nerves. It was almost enough to discourage him entirely from completing his train of thought, but he knew that would likely annoy Black Hat even more. He put his screwdriver down, turning to face the demon. “W-w-well, it’s, u-um… er…”

“Out with it, doctor.” Black Hat snapped impatiently. He cast the other man a challenging stare, as though daring him to say something he’ll regret.

At this, Flug hesitated. A lump had started forming in his throat, preventing him from speaking. Black Hat’s glare was definitely making the doctor have second thoughts about saying anything at all. Swallowing hard, he forced himself to speak through his discomfort. “Y-You’ve been treating me differently.”

Black Hat’s visible eye slowly narrowed, but he decided to amuse his doctor. “Oh really? How so?” He said in a sort of sarcastic, dry tone, taking a step forward.

No backing down now. Straightening his back, Flug tried very hard not to flinch away at his boss’s advances. “Well…” He began, fiddling with his hands, “You’ve been, um… H-How do I put this… nicer …?”

That was a big mistake the moment he said it, Flug’s eyes going wide once he realized his mistake far too late. Rage flashed across Black Hat’s face, the demon’s familiar growl ringing through Flug’s ears as he came closer. Flinching back and shielding his face with an arm, Flug almost fell over the table behind him as he tried to back away. “W-W-Wait, I didn’t m-mean it like tha–!” He cut himself off with a fearful yelp as Black Hat yanked him forward by the neck of his shirt, his threatening form towering over the doctor.

“How did you mean it , then?” Black Hat snarled, voice dripping with a biting venom.

“Y-You’ve been acting like you think I have more worth now!” Flug squeaked, hiding his face behind his arms with eyes squeezed shut, a clear exasperation lingering among the fear in his words. “Like because I’m half monster, that changes things!”

Expecting to get pummeled in the next few seconds, it was to Flug’s great surprise that Black Hat let him go. Risking a timid peek at his boss, his jaw almost dropped. Why was he laughing all of a sudden?

“Of course it changes things!” Blackhat grinned, as though it were ridiculous for Flug to suggest otherwise. For some reason, that prickled at Flug’s nerves. “Now that I’ve seen what you are– ”

“What I am doesn’t change anything! I’m still the same Flug I’ve always been!”

In a moment of surprise, Black Hat’s grin faltered. He’d never heard Flug take such a tone with him before, nor had he seen that particular look of frustration, dressed with hints of defiance, within Flug’s eyes.

“Have you been basing my value on species this whole time?” The scientist went on, irritation building, “What, I’m suddenly worth more to you just because I’m less human? Is that why you haven’t been kicking me around as much? Are you seriously that shallow?” With a scoff, Flug looked away, brows furrowed in anger. “If my being a human really disgusted you that much, I don’t get why you haven’t just replaced me with someone more your style.”

There was a tense moment of silence between them, although the tension was likely only on Flug’s side. Eventually, Black Hat spoke again.

“I believe that’s the first time you’ve dared to raise your voice at me, doctor.”

… Wait…

Shit.

“I’m sorry…!” He squeaked in fear, cringing away from Black Hat in anticipation of being struck. Realization of how badly he screwed up hit him like a semi truck, and he scrambled over his words trying to do damage control in whatever way he could. “I-I don’t know w-what c-came over me! I-I’m v- very sorry, sir…!”

No violence came his way, however. Instead, Black Hat eyed him with what Flug could only describe as intrigue. His head tilted a smidge to the side, not unlike that of a curious animal. When he next spoke, it was with a kind of guileless tone completely foreign to Flug’s ears. “I have always valued you, Flug.”

A disbelieving snort escaped Flug before he had the chance to stop it, slapping a hand over his mouth the second such a disrespectful noise had come out. How or why Black Hat hadn’t lashed out at him yet, Flug had no idea.

“You think I would have hired some annoying, sniveling little human if you weren’t of significant value to me? I know you’re smarter than that, doctor.” He drew closer, much to Flug’s discomfort. “In spite of what a pitiful sight you made, it was your intelligence that’d far made up for that. Your intelligence, your dedication, your perseverance, I have seen it all. From the day I met you, I knew your talents were exceptional.”

Baffled by such claims, Flug could do nothing more than stare in disbelief as his boss spoke.

“You impressed me that day, Dr. Flug. I can count on one hand the number of humans that’ve accomplished such a feat.” He went on, circling Flug to admire the work he had laid out on the table. “Humans are one of the most irritating and pathetic species I’ve ever come across in all my years. To have ended up relying on one for the sake of my business has been no less than a major frustration to me. Without you, who the hell do you think would be making all of our products?”

“I-I-” Flug started to speak, but was quickly silenced by the raise of Black Hat’s hand. Clearly, he had more to say.

“In a way, you’re not wrong. It does please me knowing that you’re not entirely human. You are something better. But, you’ve always been better than other humans in my eyes.” When he next turned to face Flug, it was with a narrow-eyed stare on his face. “So, don’t you dare suggest that I haven’t valued you until now. If that were true, I’d have left you dead in that alley all those years ago.”

At that moment, Flug had been rendered speechless. This was the first time Black Hat’s ever verbalized any sort of appreciation for Flug’s work, especially in such a direct manner. He almost couldn’t believe what he was hearing, tempted to reach out and poke the eldritch to make sure it was actually him and not some sort of caffeine hallucination.

Instead, he averted his eyes. As comforting as that was to hear, it didn’t change the main problem.

“You don’t treat your valuables very well, then.” Flug’s hesitant voice spoke up.

With a boisterous laugh, Blackhat twirled his cane idly. “So what? That’s of no consequence to me.”

“You seem to forget that I’m breakable, sir. It is a consequence if I decide to leave.” If he really is as valuable as Black Hat says... Looking away, he muttered under his breath, “It’s definitely something I’ve considered.”

That came as no surprise to Black Hat. He’s seen the collection of house and apartment ads the doctor’s compiled and occasionally glanced through when his boss’s temper was especially testy. But surely he’d never actually go through with leaving. Not after all the work he put in to get here. It would be absurd.

Not paying the comment much mind, Black Hat decided he was done with this conversation and headed for the door. “Get that ray done. We start filming in two hours.”

Such dismissive behavior was what Flug was used to letting roll off his back. But, this time, it felt like it didn’t matter at all compared to the other things his boss had said.

It was beyond reassuring to know that Black Hat found him important for what really mattered. There had been many a day where Flug had wondered if all of his efforts were actually counting for anything, in that regard.

Now, he won’t have to wonder.

Something new to wonder about, however, was why this conversation had left him feeling so flustered …

Their uncharacteristically genuine conversation didn’t mean everything was sunshine and daisies, of course. After all, This is the house of evil. Can’t expect much else. What Flug was used to was being yelled at. Though there was one recent incident in particular that had been… strange.

As usual, Black Hat was eager to advertise anti-hero merchandise to their viewers. The demon rarely ever began recording early without first informing Flug, but today was, unfortunately, one of those days. He already had Cam-bot recording before Flug was even in the room. It’s not like he needed Flug there, anyways, so he just went ahead and started without him. The product seemed simple enough, some kind of fireball launcher of sorts.

Black Hat was well into the presentation by the time Flug had gotten there. The doctor had appeared somewhat rushed, and was carrying with him a toolbox.

His eyes widened with terror when he entered the room to see his boss already wielding the product.

“… and with just the click of a button, your local hero will be enveloped in a Hellish blaze!” Black Hat took aim at a target across the room.

“Sir, no!” Flug shouted, darting towards him, “There’s a chemical imbalance that still needs to be–!”

Too late.

There was a flash, then a blast of intense heat as the weapon backfired. Cam-bot went toppling over sideways, making a series of distressed beeping noises, and Black Hat let out a startled snarl as his arm was blown clean off. That wasn’t too much of a concern, however, as a stream of inky black energy quickly formed a new one.

He wheeled around, eyes blazing with rage as he faced the now-shivering Flug. “You IDIOT!!!” He roared, storming over to the scientist and roughly gripping his arm. “Is your job to have our products ready in time or IS IT NOT!?”

“I-I-I’m sorry….!” Flug yelped, cowering. “I-I thought I h-had more time…! I just needed to make one minor adjustmen–” He cut himself off with a pained outcry as Black Hat’s grip tightened, near threatening to break his arm.

“I don’t want to hear EXCUSES, YOU BLOODY– You…” Black Hat trailed off, a whisper of that recent conversation with the doctor echoing in his head.

You don’t treat your valuables very well.

You seem to forget that I’m breakable.

Staring over the terrified doctor now, the way he immediately expected the worst, something felt… off. Black Hat was the one that decided to start early and without Flug’s knowledge… but that still shouldn’t excuse not having it ready before the deadline, so–!

“Sir…?” Flug’s voice, tiny and horrified as it may have been, managed to shake Black Hat out of his thoughts. Fearful eyes gazed up at him with a hint of confusion on top of the pain. Very slowly, Black Hat loosened his grip, then let go altogether and took a step back.

Flug stepped back as well at the first chance he got, gripping his hurt arm close to himself. He gave a puzzled frown. “S-Sir…. are you…. alright….?”

… How could he be asking that? It seemed so… backwards.

… It doesn’t matter.

“Get this mess cleaned up…” Black Hat finally said, his voice unusually low, “… and fix that infernal Cam-bot…”

Then, he was gone before Flug could even reply.

Watching the door close behind his boss, Flug winced as he rubbed his arm. Sighing, he picked up the dropped toolbox and turned to Cam-bot. “Let’s get you cleaned up, then…”

A flood of blood trickled down the now-lifeless body and onto the floor, Flug’s shaking arm wiping away what dribbled from his chin. With a chunk of neck completely missing from the corpse on the operation table in front of him, it was leaving quite the mess. The doctor tentatively reached up to pull his paper bag back down and cover his mouth, but Black Hat’s cane pulled his arm away before he could. Flug squirmed slightly beneath his boss’s touch as he lifted his chin , discomfort setting in him, but Black Hat paid that no mind.

A gloved thumb lightly grazing across the edge of Flug’s fangs, Black Hat’s expression was oddly monotone today. “… So, tell me.” He said suddenly. “If I’m so unbearable to live with, why do you stick around?”

“S-Sir….?” Flug responded, caught off guard by the question.

“You’re not being forced to stay here.” The eldritch went on. “You said yourself that you’ve considered leaving. Many other villains would be glad to take you. So why do you stay?”

Flug was quiet for a long moment, considering what he should say. Truly, there was only one right answer. “… B-Because the other villains aren’t you.”

At that, Black Hat paused, a twitch of surprise on his features for a second. Then, his eyes narrowed slightly. “Elaborate.”

Swallowing a lump in his throat, Flug started to fiddle with the sleeves of his labcoat. “W-W-Well, um… I-I mean, you’re… successful, c-confident, accomplished…” Oh gosh, why did he have to be listing off things he admires about his boss while they were in this position? Hardly any distance between them, and Black Hat leaned in closer with every word! Swallowing again, he tried not to get too flustered as he continued, “I-It’s just… well, you’re Black Hat. You’re one of a k-kind, the best there is. I don’t– I-I refuse to settle for less than the best.” Sheepishly, he looked to the ground, voice quieting. “You’re everything I’m not.”

Silent for quite some time, Black Hat found he was only able to give Flug a dumbfounded stare. The demon’s never had a tendency for modesty, for Flug to be so upfront about both his admirations and insecurities felt strange as can be. It was a combination that Flug likely never would’ve spoken aloud if left unprompted. Then, a smile began to form on Black Hat’s face. “Well, aren’t you the little ego-booster.” He purred, chuckling. “Although…” Stepping back and rubbing his chin in thought, Black Hat tilted his head and looked Flug up and down. “For one thing, if it’s something like confidence you’re wanting improvements on, you really shouldn’t spend your time hiding underneath that paper bag.”

Flinching back, Flug subconsciously ran his fingers across the edge of the bag. “N-N-No. I-I need it.”

“… Tsk. Fine, then. But still, I am curious…” Taking a step forward again, Black Hat brushed at the paper bag with his fingers. Flug jolted back before he could get a proper grip, almost tumbling over the body table in the process. Black Hat simply reached out with his cane, hooked it around Flug’s neck, and yanked him forward. With the other hand, he reached for the bag again.

“No!” In a panic, the trembling scientist grabbed his arm with both hands in an attempt to stop him, eyes squeezed shut.

Surprisingly, Black Hat did stop.

Flug hesitantly opened one eye to evaluate the situation. Black Hat was staring at where Flug had gripped him, same dumbfounded expression on his face as from the last time Flug touched him.

Slowly letting go, hoping that he wouldn’t try to remove the bag again, Flug frowned. “… U-Um… sir… I-If you don’t mind my asking…. W-Why is it you look so… bewildered … when I do that…?”

“Hmph,” Black Hat pulled his arm back after being let go, absentmindedly rubbing the spot he had been grabbed. He tried to cover up the bewilderment with a sly smile. “Maybe because the only time people ever dare to touch me is when we’re fighting or having sex. Why else?”

…. Flug chose to ignore that second part. His frown deepened, a touch of his own bewilderment setting in. “… So you’ve… never been, like… just… casually or platonically touched…?”

Black Hat took a moment to think about it, looking off to the side. He couldn’t recall any instances of such a thing, aside from maybe shaking hands with clients, if that were to count? But those were more like business obligations rather than anything casual or platonic. “Hmm… No, never.” He eventually concluded. His eyes narrowed just slightly when they pulled back towards Flug. “Well, unless we count you.”

Normally Flug might’ve winced away in response to the slow return of hostility in Black Hat, but he was just… too flabbergasted. The concept of going through life without that ever happening seemed so farfetched for some reason, but he supposed if you’re a guy like Black Hat, maybe it’s plausible…..?

After a long moment’s thought, he hesitantly reached out a hand, pausing near Black Hat’s right shoulder as he examined his boss’s face for permission.

Black Hat’s eyes further narrowed with skepticism at the gesture, but he made no protest. So, Flug continued. His skeptical gaze followed Flug’s hand all the way until it had made contact with his shoulder.

It was strange, how all the malice slowly drained from his boss’s face upon contact. The look in his eyes was no longer one of hostility, but rather, curiosity. Perhaps a touch of confusion, but mostly a genuine sort of curiosity that was, in a way, almost innocent-looking. It was a rather strange expression on him, Flug finding himself unable to look away until Black Hat’s questioning pupils darted to Flug’s own face, wondering why he had gone so still.

Quickly averting his eyes, Flug went back to what he was doing. Very slowly, he ran his hand down the demon’s arm, as if he were simply smoothing out the fabric of his sleeve. Gentle, yet so impactful. If he wasn’t mistaken, he could’ve sworn he felt the slightest shiver from his boss as he had done so. Another sneaking glance to Black Hat’s face confirmed that he was just as confused as Flug was about the whole thing.

Slowly still, Flug raised his other hand to meet Black Hat’s chest, just letting it rest there for a while. Then, as if snapped out of a trance, Flug realized all at once how weird this must be getting and jolted backwards, the sudden movement even startling Black Hat a tiny bit.

“I-I… um… s-sorry, sir…” There Flug was, getting all flustered again. Why the hell did these strange interactions with his boss keep stirring up such confusing butterflies in the pit of his stomach?

Black Hat raised an eyebrow slightly, but other than that, his expression remained vaguely passive. He ran his own fingers along where Flug had touched him, quiet for some time. Then, his familiar smile crept back along his face as he looked back towards the doctor. “Seems only fair that I’d get to look beneath that bag of yours now, doesn’t it?”

Crap. Flug was hoping he’d forgotten about that. His gaze fell to the floor, accepting defeat with a very hesitant nod. “I-I-I s-sup-ppose so, s-sir…” He stammered, anxiety quickly on the rise.

A victorious purr rumbled in Black Hat’s throat, and he closed the space between himself and his scientist. Hands once again meeting the bottom of Flug’s paper bag, he took unusual care in how he lifted both the bag and goggles off of his face. As soon as those harsh white lights from the room’s fluorescent bulbs hit Flug’s eyes, a sharp yelp left his throat, and he threw his face in his hands to hide.

“Seriously, Flug?” Black Hat deadpanned, unimpressed.

“I-I-I’m s-sorry. It’s t-too b-bright.” He stuttered, unable to stop trembling.

There was a moment of silence before Flug heard his boss’s voice again. “Open your eyes, doctor.”

Already feeling dizzy and anxious without the comfort of his bag, the thought of being made to endure such harsh lights on top of that was too overwhelming to handle. But the thought of angering Black Hat frightened him even more. So, he fought back every instinct that screamed at him to protect his eyes, stifled whatever stressful noises tried to escape him, and lowered his hands.

To Flug’s surprise, rather than the headache-inducing brightness he was expecting, he was greeted with a well-dimmed room, black smoke swirling above them to significantly dull the lights. No doubt compliments of Black Hat.

View of his scientist no longer obstructed, the wide-grinning demon took hold of Flug’s chin, lifting his head to get a better look. He could feel the halfling swallow nervously, but was too focused on taking in his appearance to notice or comment. Honestly, Flug looked like any normal human being if you looked past the eyes and teeth.

But Black Hat didn’t. He was especially focused on those eyes, this being the first time he’s ever actually seen them goggle-free.

Flug’s eyes were without a doubt attention-grabbing. Where a human’s eyes would normally be white, Flug’s were an abyss of pitch-black, glowing white pupils being the only contrast to exist within.

“Captivating…” Black Hat commented under his breath. While the comment was not specifically addressed for Flug, he certainly reacted to it, feeling an intense heat rise to his cheeks. His boss definitely took notice of that, smirk widening in response.

Embarrassed and feeling like he was going to pass out, Flug quickly grasped for his bag and pulled away from Black Hat, struggling to pull it over his head again through short and shaky breaths.

Evidently, having the bag and goggles was a comfort thing as well as an eye protection thing.

Satisfied, Black Hat gave a firm nod and turned for the door, smoke dissipating with a snap of his fingers. “Clean up your mess and get back to work.” He ordered as he left.

Flug had to take a moment to regain himself, doing everything he could to calm his nerves. With the combination of deep breaths and counting numbers in his head to refocus, the doctor slowly but surely found his composure again.

That was… quite the experience… Almost surreal ….

Placing a hand on the side of his head in confusion, Flug shook it off and went to take care of the body. The entire experience didn’t stop running through his head the whole while.

There were no words Flug had that could describe how their altered relationship had continued to shift and morph since then.

Flug first noticed it with the way Black Hat’s eyes studied him, bore through him right to the bone and stripped his soul bare. There lived no mordacity or annoyance behind his constant gazes, which was unnervingly strange in and of itself. Worse was that Flug couldn’t tell what Black Hat was looking at him with. Was it condescension? It didn’t feel like something that negative... Maybe… curiosity? Interest? But interest in what? No matter what explanation his mind tried to present, Flug knew there was something he had to be missing. Something he wasn’t seeing.

The mystery was only made harder to solve by the way Black Hat would touch him. In the past, the only form of physical contact they’d ever shared was aggressive in nature, as Black Hat had a nasty habit of manhandling anybody nearby in his moments of explosive rage. As such, it was hard not to flinch when the demon would put his hands on him. But, especially after that unusual encounter they’d had, his touches have become shockingly gentle.

What were once brief pats on the back became lingering touches, claws tracing temperate lines along his meek frame, a hand resting on his shoulder just a bit too long… He’d also just stand far closer than usual whenever they were going over work projects together. Flug thought for a moment that perhaps all this time spent around Black Hat’s eldritch presence was finally driving him insane, but there was no way that he could be imagining these things. Out of all things for his mind to try and play tricks with, why something like this?

Furthermore, as someone who’s always enjoyed his alone time, Flug simply couldn’t wrap his head around why Black Hat kept joining him in the lab for the most benign of times. Even today, all he was doing was reading a newspaper with his morning acid, something he usually did in the comfort of his own office.

Occasional glances in his boss’s direction yielded the same results, those strange stares that made Flug feel so vulnerable being aimed back at him every now and then. He tried to focus on his work, to throw himself into his invention to distract from the outside world as usual, but his rattled nerves simply refused to let him do that today.

The next time he found his boss staring, Flug put down his tools, confronting the issue with a meek question.

“A-Are you ups-set with me?”

A glimmer of curiosity passed through Black Hat’s eyes. He put his newspaper down, that unnerving gaze completely honed in on his scientist. “What makes you think I’m upset with you?”

“W-Well, it’s… uh… I-I don’t kn-know, you’ve just b-been kind of…” Flinching slightly as Black Hat rose from his seat to approach him, Flug greatly struggled to finish that thought, looking all around the lab to avoid any sort of eye contact. “Y-y-you’ve b-been s-st- staring a l-lot lately, a-a-and, um–” He backed up as his boss got closer, just barely catching himself when he knocked into the table behind him, “A-and th-the t- touching … I-I just d-don’t u-und-derstand w-what–”

Flug’s stuttering was cut short when Black Hat took the side of his face into his hand, turning the scientist’s head to make their eyes meet.

“Tell me, doctor,” Black Hat purred, “Do I look upset to you?”

“N-n-no…?” Flug squeaked in response.

“There is your answer.” His head lolled to the side, studying Flug far too closely for comfort. His hand slinked down from Flug's face, the doctor withdrawing a sharp breath as deadly claws traced along his neck before finding its new resting place on his shoulder. “Does it bother you when I touch you?”

“W-Would it m-mat-tter if it d-did…?”

The way Black Hat narrowed his eyes at him, the hints of an annoyed frown starting to tug at his lips, quickly startled Flug into correcting his behavior. He straightened his back, answering the question directly this time. “N-no sir, it’s n-no bother.”

Just like that, Black Hat seemed to relax again. “Good.” He pulled his hand away, returning to the couch to pick up his newspaper. “You look like you’re having trouble focusing, so I suppose I’ll leave you to it for now.”

And, just like that, he was gone.

That… did not answer any of Flug’s questions.

Honestly, it was likely in Flug’s better judgment to stop questioning these changes in behavior to Black Hat’s face. Confusing as their new dynamic may have been, at least it was better than getting thrown around like a ragdoll on a near-daily basis.

That wasn’t the way Black Hat saw it, however.

The way Black Hat saw it, all of this peculiar behavior had been a simple case of testing the waters. Unfortunately, his next move would be one Flug could’ve never prepared for.

Aaaand here’s where things get a little tumblr-unsafe, so to the AO3 void you go! (Please heed the warning tags over there)

#villainos #villainous #paperhat #black hat #flug #demencia #505 #OP #fanfiction #my writing #now watch as this has like 20 mistakes i missed LMAO

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doubledyke · 5 months

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How do you think would be Edd and Ed's lives in a world where Eddy was never born or they never meet him? Would they indeed be accepted by the other kids, or would they be lonely hermits stuck on their houses (Edd with his experiments and Ed with his sci-fi movies as their only friends respectively)? I bet more on the second option.

oh boy, the question of all time. i guess i'll have to go with the second option to some extent.

ed is unlikely to be truly and wholly accepted by most of the other kids with or without eddy imo. he's smelly and weird, and sarah, who's part of the in-crowd, can't stand him. she's not going to let him join in the reindeer games, and i doubt he'd want to spend more time with her than he already has to, let's be real.

he could very well be perfectly happy with the life of a hermit. like you mentioned, he's got his movies and comics, his models, and a limitless imagination. he doesn't strike me as the type to require much or really any social interaction or validation. he does love being around his friends! edd and eddy that is. he's an extremely sweet person, and very affectionate towards people he cares about. but he could fare just as well being a loner. also, dude can evidently conjure up a tulpa any time he wants (e.g. jib).

he isn't one to hold grudges at all, so if the kids did occasionally need him to effortlessly lift a house or car, he'd happily oblige. that's about the extent of their "acceptance" of ed though. jonny and rolf are the exceptions - i think they'd be buddies with the lump.

it might be a little harder to say for certain with edd, since he puts up so many fronts. i think he may be somewhat accepted - he's clean, smart, and the girls think he's cute. he's good to have around when you need help with homework, or your bike chain slips... or you've got a growth of some sort... but much like big ed, he's pretty strange, on top of being finicky, pretentious, etc.. and he's a buzzkill a lot of the time, which gets old real fast. that being said i think he could easily build a superficial rapport with the kids, though they probably won't be inviting him to any soirees. if i had to choose a kid who might connect most with edd, it'd be jimmy..... so literally exactly what happens in the show.

as far as edd ending up a shut in, i imagine without eddy he probably would spend most of his time on his own, but does venture outdoors. he loves being in nature and looking at bugs, that typa stuff. he'd still do that, just alone i guess. not a farfetched assumption at all. but edd does crave SOME level of social approval and validation. and since he doesn't get it at home, he has to look elsewhere. so without eddy, he would have to manage with a few fair-weather friendships in the neighborhood until he inevitably leaves peach creek and meets people that are more his speed.

there's an argument to be made that despite his need for socialization, he, like ed, would have little to no desire to hang out with the cul-de-sac kids. cuz like, what would they do? it's nearly impossible for me to imagine edd 'playing' with the other kids, since he's 12 going on 45. edd doesn't play, at least not uncritically lmao. he likes to read and do his tinkering and experiments, etc.. at least with ed and eddy he can put those things to some kind of use.

which brings me to my semi-related tangent, and i'll try not to go too far off the rails here, but don't hold your breath.

i feel like this kind of question is prevalent because some people want to imagine that the cul-de-sac would be all sunshine and rainbows if only eddy wasn't around. as if ed and edd are clamoring to hang out with kevin (lol) and the only thing preventing them from being the toasts of the town is eddy? it's really weird seeing as he's basically the main character and there's not a show without their antics. idk what to tell those people except that maybe they need to find another long defunct cartoon to over analyze 😬

not that you're doing this at all anon, but it drives me crazy when people try to absolve edd of wrongdoing and paint him as a trembling victim. i mean, people can do whatever they want, but shitting on eddy is a bit much. plus it strips away a lot of what makes edd interesting.

edd makes a conscious and informed choice every day to hang out with ed and eddy.

i don't personally think it's because he was or necessarily would be outright shunned by the other kids. dare i say, he just likes them lmao.

eddy and edd have a major similarity in their desire to appear more mature than they are:

eddy is shameless in his attempts, whereas edd tries to play it off.

and that's it. that's the show.

kidding, but only a little. essentially, they're both precocious and have probably been exposed to shit that kids shouldn't be exposed to. i think that's the foundation of their friendship, aside from having the same name.

in some ways, eddy IS more "mature" than his peers, in his own greasy way. he's mostly a typical idiot pre-teen, but let's give him some credit here: he knows it's a dog eat dog world and you don't get anywhere in life by whistlin' dixie. he's just trying to get a head start.

edd is complicit and just as culpable as eddy is in their grift. he compulsively voices his disapproval and still not only goes along, but contributes greatly. it appears that a lot of the time his biggest qualm is even that the scams are immoral, but that they're unconvincing.

there could be a few different explanations for that, but "edd is a victim of eddy" simply isn't one of them.

a) edd also wants money, and if that means fleecing people he believes are below him, so be it.

b) edd views these rackets as the preferable, more adult-esque alternative to playing tiddlywinks with his peers.

c) he likes spending time with ed and eddy and that entails running two-bit scams

these aren't mutually exclusive by any means. to me, all three apply at various times in the series.

all that to say, i don't think edd is forced to hang out with ed and eddy because he's just SO outwardly off-putting that the kids wouldn't give him the time of day. that assumes that he even wants their time, y'know. unlike eddy, edd is not "cool-conscious". he doesn't care where he belongs, he's just wants to belong. and he found his sense of belonging with dumb and dumber. it says a lot about him, i think 😂

much like any kid if he really wanted to mesh with the in-crowd, he'd find a way. to act like edd has no other option just comes off as a slight toward the other two eds.

okay anyway, the eds are a package deal. without eddy... there's literally no ed edd n eddy. none of them would develop the way they did if one of them was missing. that's why it's weird to try and guess what would happen if eddy wasn't around. but...

i don't see edd giving ed much of a chance if it weren't for eddy's forcing them to be around each other. he'd get one whiff of the guy and disintegrate into a pile of wood dust. and ed barely understands what edd says, so why would he have ever initiated a conversation if not for eddy standing by to interpret??

of course, edd did a pretty good job at predicting what life would look like for ed and eddy if he ended up as the pretzel legged boy in the sideshow - the sucker quotient does go way down when the signs are misspelled. and as for if it were just edd and eddy, they would've killed each other by the end of season 2.

#thanks for asking and for resending lol not sure what happened there #and my bad for digressing as usual #but hopefully you see how it relates to the question #text

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nofomogirl · 6 months

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Before the Beginning (part 1.1.)

Part 1.2. | Part 1.3. | Part 1.4. | Part 1.5. |

Part 2.1. | Part 2.2. | Part 2.3. |

Okay, now that I have finished picking apart the ending of S2 (ok, it's been some time, but it was my last big Tumblr project), it's only logical to turn my attention to the very beginning.

Disclaimer: I am going to work under the assumption the opening scene is real, ie. what we saw is exactly what happened.

I am aware this is a subject of discussion right now. Ever since memory manipulation has become hard canon nothing is certain anymore and the accuracy of every scene, present, or flashback (but especially flashback) is called into question. And not without good reason - there are continuity errors throughout the show that are very likely to be a conscious move on the creators' part. They might be telling us something weird is going on and things aren't necessarily what they seem.

I acknowledge that possibility, and I acknowledge that events from before the Fall are particularly uncertain ones.

But at the same time, I don't think this scene exists to hint at some sort of fabrication. We simply don't have enough points of reference about the time before time for it to work, in my opinion. No, I think this scene exists exactly to give us some points of reference for what happens later. To provide us with important information that will help us put the story proper into some perspective.

What does that scene show us that matters so much for the story?

Quite a few things, but let's start with the most evident, and possibly the most important thing - the opening scene shows us how Crowley looked before the Fall: he had regular brown eyes, he had regular circular irises, and he had no familiar sigil/tattoo on the side of his face.

When people theorize about Crowley's pre-Fall identity, they often search for an angel with some connections to snakes. And why wouldn't they? It's such a fundamental aspect of Crowley as a person, isn't it? It's hard to imagine him without it.

And yet, the angel that would become Crowley had no visible serpentine traits and I believe it is meant to communicate a lack of serpentine nature. The angel that would become Crowley hadn't been a snake. Demon Crowley was, but only since he became a demon.

Let that sink in.

The angel who made the stars, and the demon we know really and truly aren't the same person. The Fall changed his very nature in ways that are hard to comprehend and I believe we've all been underestimating the magnitude and depth of his transformation.

And so has Aziraphale, obviously.

So now, armed with that knowledge, I'd like to look at the instances where Crowley's past angelic identity is brought up. Not the Fall, and not what was happening before the Fall, but specifically the fact that Crowley used to be an angel.

I can recall three (if you think I missed something, let me know):

the Bandstand Breakup (part 1.2.)

Companion to Owls (part 1.3. - the courtyard scene & part 1.4. - the basement scene)

the Final Fifteen

All are very emotional scenes. One might even argue the most emotional scenes in the show so far. In all three forgiveness or redemption is brought up in some way.

I'll start picking them apart in the next post.

See you soon.

#good omens #good omens 2 #good omens meta #crowley #aziraphale #ineffable husbands #post series

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eldritch-spouse · 11 months

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The cleric genuinely interest me, especially about that one post dragging a human down to keep them. Does it have any emotions at first or does it learn while it’s active? If he does drag a human down with him, what happens to the human when the cleric is inactive? Does Krulu do anything if he notices his creation got attached to someone? I also wonder what texture its body has. Most importantly, how does the cleric feel when it shags someone lol. I imagine it learns to like the activity a lot whore

[That's specifically a scenario where reader's an outsider, and though I don't necessarily consider it to be canon, preferring the idea of the Cleric being more likely to flock to its maker and vessel, I can sort of work with it.]

Does it have emotions?

Emotions are always there. From day one.

What happens is that the Cleric doesn't have the maturity and reflection necessary to not only identify emotions and feelings for what they are, but also understand how to express, conceal, or process them in a way that is socially acceptable. Or minimally healthy. It initially appears devoid of feelings, especially to you, but that assumption doesn't last too long, as you specifically inspire overwhelming emotion in the Cleric. Something it can't conceal, can't control.

There are no directives telling Cleric what to do here, so it doesn't have to act a certain way, communicate within guidelines or present itself in a very firm mold. You're privy to their most raw, unfiltered emotions and impulses, which not only reveals just how emotive this being is but also how dangerous of a mental state they're in.

Naturally, the Cleric is able to learn and absorb new information. As someone who they care about, your words and actions mean a lot to them, meaning you can fill in the blanks that Krulu left, so long as they're not immediately contradictory to the higher's rules. Cleric exhibits the same discrimination towards humans as the rest of the people in the establishment do, so it can often take some of your words and reduce them to unimportant human blabbering.

What happens to you when Cleric is inactive?

Chances are Krulu stumbles upon you upon his return. Since the Cleric made a specific room in a floor inhabited only by you, to which there is no elevator access in or out- Only the siadar can see it. He's extremely confused upon noticing you, immediately removing you from the strange mockery of a room and activating the Cleric once more so it can explain why the fuck it's hoarding a human.

Nothing in its innate directives should lead to this type of scenario. While you might be too traumatized by the presence of a god to speak, Keyhead McGee will attempt to explain, in logical terms, why you had to be kept in a room. You're unpredictable and new and it... It had to. Why? It just had to keep you. They can't provide a satisfying answer, and although the Cleric stands before its master dutifully, it knows it could die at any moment.

It's the flip of a coin.

If you don't get over your terror and mutter anything, Krulu will crush your head and dispose of you like a crumpled sheet of paper. If you can say something intriguing enough, you're kept alive so Krulu can study why his creation is drawn to you. You get a room modeled to your liking, courtesy of the Cleric's work.

In a way... He almost sees himself and Admin in you two. The very early stages of his and his vessel's bonding.

What is the Cleric's texture?

Rough and dry, for the most part. The thorns on its hips, thighs and knees are particularly sharp and hard. Extremities such as the hands and feet tend to be softer.

Their head has a glass-like feel to it, light emanates from within it, emotions will cause said luminescence to heighten or diminish. The key is dense and heavy to the touch, metallic, though easily supported by them.

What does it think about sex?

The Cleric is no stranger to sexual activity. It's some of the most common acts performed within their walls. They know what desire is, they've seen carnality and all sorts of genitalia, they know what an orgasm looks like and what is involved in one.

There is curiosity in them regarding the acts, but arousal only emerges when they come in contact with you.

Everything they feel towards you is so intense that, at first, it doesn't even register its own attraction to you. Then the Cleric gets to touch you openly, feeling shivers of delight coursing their entire body -The first hints of pleasure- And it understands. It wants you. It can have you, open you, fuck you.

But first, they have to discover their own body. Because, hilariously, the Cleric doesn't even know what type of genitals it has. They know they have something, because there's a slit on its pelvic area, but what lies within is a total mystery. They know what you have, at least.

You... You can help them with this, right? That's how it works. You're supposed to touch each other.

You'll soon find the Cleric has several long but thin tendrils for genitals, all quite dexterous and able to perform a variety of strange sexual motions.

Naturally, the first time they come is explosive. You may find the room around you spazzing into different shapes and colors as the entity's control over its own form wavers in their ecstasy. Perhaps, a couple floors above, several things got displaced- Chairs are now glued to the ceiling and the bar got thrown into the wall, the lab acquired a bottomless hole Patches almost sunk into, etc...

They want to do it again. And again. And again.

#Cleric oc

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