#//after all as long as it's only him suffering..

[nkogneatho]

𝐻𝐴𝑈𝑁𝑇𝐼𝑁𝐺 𝐿𝑂𝑉𝐸

—a/n: hii i am pasi and i like to make people cry and suffer.

He didn't mean it. right?

"You are so fucking insufferable. My wife was so much better than you. You can never be like her."

It stung you. your heart raced faster as fear, panic and pain seeped in your blood. You and toji had gotten into a petty arguement earlier. It was only a matter of time before it turned into a full fledged fight the way none of you were backing down. usually, you both would've just been mad for a few hours before apologizing to each other—although your apologies were in the form of long hugs and favorite food—but this one took the worst turn.

The room was silent for thirty seconds after the words left his mouth. Tears threatened your eyes. To be honest, you did not even have the energy to put a fight with them. So you just let them fall.

"I know." You finally spoke but it was a broken whimper. "I know, dammit." You bit your lips, holding in your loud cries. You wanted to sob till the neighbors knew something was wrong, but you suppressed them. "I can never be like her. She was perfect. She was beautiful. She—she would never get on your nerves like me." You stammered between sentences. "I get it. I respect her." Toji looked at you with raging eyes, his adrenaline still hadn't calmed down but you could spot regret when his brow softened a little.

"But, honestly toji...I don't give a fuck about being like her. I never tried to be. All I tried was to— to love you more that her so you could know your worth after you lost her." Every cell in your body tried to gather as much courage as it could to just stand there and being able to say this.

All the anger in his suddenly had vanished, replaced with regret and hatred for himself. He never wanted to make you feel like this. He never wnated to fuck this up, and make you cry. But now he had. He let his hand reached you, only to notice your leg stepping backward.

"I am never going to be enough, right? Fuck. I can't do this."

"No. Don't say it—"

"I think it's time I leave." Feet rushing towards you, his steps heavier.

"Don't say that. Fuck I am so sorry. I didn't mean it, baby. I..." Broken sobs left your lips. He wanted to kiss them away, but he didn't know if he could right now. Big thumb brushed away your thick tears, palm resting against your cheek. He picked you up and carried you to the bedroom. Placing your body on the grey mattress, he climbed on the bed, laying next to you with your head on his arms. There were no words exchanged for the rest of the night. When your sobs stopped, he kissed your forehead as you passed out from exhaustion. The sight bought him both peace and pain. He promised himself that he will make it up to you tomorrow.

The sun was brighter the next morning, or at least that is what Toji felt when the sun rays coming from the window fell directly on his body. Usually, he'd wake up to the shade of your body. His eyes widened as he hastily sat up, finding you nowhere on the bed.

"No. No. No. Please."

He rushed to the bathroom, but it was empty. Kitchen? Empty. Hall? Empty. Wait. He moved closer to the coffee table when he caught a glimpse of what seemed like a note.

"Thank you for everything and I am sorry I wasn't enough. Goodbye Toji."

A loud thud emerged as Toji's kness met the floor, clueless eyes scanning the room. It qas more silent than usual. The kind of silence that was killing him. Has it always been this quiet?

#toji x reader #toji fushiguro x reader #fushiguro toji #toji fushiguro #jjk x reader #jjk angst #fushiguro toji x reader #toji angst

[murainhell]

Helluva Boss Spoilers!

The longer it's been since Full Moon was released, the more I think I like the fight. The writing and acting is incredible, they have done a fantastic job.

I know some people have taken my drawing as Blitzo being the one who acted wrong, while my friends think I'm blaming Stolas because I defend Blitzo when they complain about him. But no, I'm not taking sides. They are both wrong and at the same time right and their reactions are perfectly justified. They are two complex characters with complicated traumas that are clashing at the worst time. As a psychologist, I'm loving all of this. 

All of Stolas' opening dialogue is correct. You can tell he's been thinking about it for a long time, practicing, figuring out exactly what he wanted to say. That's great. The only problem is that when you practice a conversation, in your head nobody answers you. There were two possible outcomes, that Blitzo would say yes and they would see what happens after that together, or that he would reject him and there was no longer any reason to continue the conversation.

But Blitzo reacts in a way he didn't expect. Blitzo begs him not to change anything. “I can do better.”

The entire HB team has done a brilliant job of letting us feel Blitzo as a kid saying the same thing to his father. By now he is flooded by his own trauma. He doesn't accept the gift, he wants everything to stay the same. He wants the book, because:

It's something that works for them, it's something that is simple, why change it? Changing it is uncharted territory, and his past relationships have been complicated. But Stolas doesn't really know about those relationships.

Having the book is an excuse to see each other, it's a chain that binds them together as long as Blitzo needs it for his work. It means Stolas won't abandon him, they have a deal. But for Stolas that same tether is unbearable, because he knows what it's like to be tied down in a relationship, he's suffered the effects of that with Stella, and that means he's condemning Blitzo to the same situation, turning him into the monster he feels he is. But Blitzo doesn't really know that.

Believing it's a lie, a role-play, hurts Stolas, but how to blame Blitzo when he believes he's unlovable? He hates himself, how can Stolas be serious?

And I was hurt when Stolas said that for Blitzo it's always about sex... Bird boy, that's all he knows with you. And you know he thinks you're only there for the sex too, he tells you that in S1E7! Use your words to make him understand!!! 

But Stolas believes that everything he is witnessing is the answer. And he gives up. He's saying goodbye... ready to disappear from Blitzo's life, abandoning him when he can't give him what he asks for, when he's not enough. 

The reaction of both is understandable: Blitzo is ready for a fight (his way of communicating), he reacts poorly to the fact that Stolas is sending him out of his life because in the end he's confirming that rich people are like that, he's been a plaything for a while and now he's left behind; Stolas shuts down, he reacts poorly because he's been suffering yelling and hitting things and insults from Stella for years. 

And it breaks my heart. “Just look my way” Stolas, he's doing it. Blitzo is screaming and crying but he's looking at you. He's mad, but you just have to listen to him. Really listen to him. Because Blitzo has every right in the world to be upset, everything he says is true.

Stolas has dropped an emotional bomb on him, one he wasn't prepared for because in his head no one would want that with him. And then, without giving him time to process, to think, he's dismissing him.

He charges his fury at the social rift between them, but it's just that that difference has existed for as long as he can remember. Blitzo was sold to be a playmate for Stolas. Their relationship began within an abuse of power, where Blitzo sells his body for the book. Stolas is privileged enough not to have thought of any of that until now. It's not that he thinks badly of Stolas (although in his eyes, Stolas is confirming it by sending him away, he's a broken toy), it's facts. They need to put them on the table to grow. 

But Stolas is also within his rights not to listen when that's the tone he's using with him. He's using his coping mechanism to endure the fights with Stella. Blitzo is also confirming his worst fears; sending him away, removing that source of emotional damage he's suffering, is understandable, though by doing that he robs Blitzo of the opportunity to choose and make himself heard. 

Still, they needed this fight. Let's face it, they were not at all in a situation to start a serious relationship. They need it to know what they want, spend time without obligations and chains (as free equals) and to have space to have a real conversation. Because they don't talk, they don't have emotionally vulnerable conversations, where they can understand why the other is the way they are. 

I firmly believe they're going to figure it out. I believe in them. But we'll have to wait. In the meantime, don't hate any of them for reacting like complex souls.

Let's be Team Stolitz.

#helluva boss #helluva boss spoilers #full moon spoilers #helluva blitzo #helluva stolas #stolitz #helluva boss meta #i guess?

[meanbossart]

I finally thought of a question! What does your Astarion think of all that's happened to him, now that it's all Over, and what does Drow think about what he knows about Astarion? Does he ever contemplate and compare, does he have passing thoughts like "Oh yeah, he told me this" brought on by nothing in particular? If Drow or Shadowheart were to bring it up either when drinking, or after a heated moment, what would happen?

Thank you so much for your art and your words! Your handle on Drow made me really crack open my Tav like a nut

AND WHAT A GOOD QUESTION IT IS.

(I use some dialogue excerpts from for A Novel Experience here to illustrate my points that some might consider to be spoilery, I don't think it's stuff that would affect one's reading enjoyment too much. Still, just figured I would mention it for anyone who minds it.)

In regards to Astarion, it is understandably complicated. I think the way he's found to get by so far is by not dwelling at all in what has happened. He's tried to turn the symbolic new leaf that night in the cemetery and likes to think of himself as not only freed, but a new man open to what life has to offer him and unburdened by his past - when memories rush back, he pushes them away. When something bothers him for reasons that relate to his past experience, he tries to push past the discomfort because he doesn't want to be defined by it. He is fairly self-conscious of being seen as a weakling or a victim, especially when he's constantly confronted by DU drow's utter indifference to his own past.

He has, by all intends and purposes, done well. He understands that he's a grown man who's been given a second chance at un-life by an exceptionally lucky turn of events, he absolutely does not want to waste a second more of his own time by being sullen, broken, or guilt-striken. He thrives for as long as his past doesn't directly confront him - but when it does, the avoidance catches up and he very easily loses his cool.

His feelings regarding the decisions he made underneath Cazador's palace are mostly rigid. He's happy to not have Ascended and content that the spawn were set free, but he does not like to dwell on what their lives may be like moving forward and, if ever discussing it, does so with callousness and indifference, shutting down the conversation before it can begin. While he doesn't bask in the feeling, he does take the smallest bit of pride in the fact that he has sacrificed eternal power for the freedom of thousands - when doubt arises and he's haunted with the could-have-beens, he soothes himself with the fact that his sacrifice had a purpose.

DU drow has no moral quandries with what Astarion did while under Cazador's control or regard for the people he victimized at all, but he dwells constantly on the suffering he's endured. He flip-flops between thinking of Astarion as a perfectly capable individual and someone who is overly sensitive and finicky the moment something upsets him - someone who needs protection. He has a grand hero's complex about him and at times difficulty trusting Astarion's capacity to make his own choices - since he didn't have the opportunity for such a long time. He isn't controlling, but Astarion knows him well enough to read the doubt in his face even when he's quiet about it.

Interestingly enough, this seems to mostly apply to when Astarion's ideas go against his own, or make him feel powerless or unneeded in some way or another. He's perfectly happy to go along with his impulses otherwise - even when they seem to be made in bad judgement.

It also applies to intimacy for a while, with DU drow proceeding to avoid sex even after he's rid of his urge - not only because he's still afraid of his own desires, but also because he doesn't trust Astarion to express his agency during the act.

But that's an issue that they solve fairly quickly (well, ten-chapters-in quickly. sixteen if you only count when they first have sex since the events of the game) , especially as Astarion asserts himself as the more dominant half of the relationship.

I don't think either DU drow or Shadowheart have the nerve to use Astarion's actions while enthralled against him. DU drow because he doesn't care or thinks he's held accountable in any way, and Shadowheart because she knows better. That said, things do come up between him and other characters and then - well. He doesn't deal well with it at all:

#ask #astarion #du drow lore #a novel experience

[demonsword586]

Hades pp headcanons! (Only the nobles)

I am...SO FREAKING SORRY IT TOOK SO LONG! I AM IN MY FINALS MONTH AND I HAD SO MUCH TO DO AND I'M STILL NOT FINISHED!!! I am still writting but it's going slow since I don't have much time. In any case,I will be free in 2 weeks so this series should pick up the pace. Anyway here is more penis.

Barbatos

- Judging just from that bulge.... It's big,his balls I mean. The dick I presume is rather normal.

- 17 cm, 14 cm when soft.

- With how much time this man spends naked,you think he would have a tiny bit of tan. All over his body,his dick too since this man forgets what clothes are for when he sees the sun. But nope! He uses sunscreen with 120+ protection. You probably can't even see anything when he's around. The sunshine illuminates right off of him,making him as sunny as his personality.

- His dick is a bit on the leaner side. It's nice and slim like a rose stem. Suprisingly,he's circumsized! His tip is also a very gentle shade of rosy pink.

-It is a very beautiful penis,fit for a man like him and he's proud of it too! Unfortunatelly when you have a king as envious as Leviathan,it may be the best to keep it hidden when he's around. Barbatos had to learn this the hard way...

- Anyway the only thing that makes his pp a bit...unperfect,is the giant ballsack under it. A very pretty pp with big,squishy balls. Very squishable,but please don't play with them for too long. He's a bit of a tease so whatever you do to him,he will do it twice as pleasureable to you.

- Also,has a few small cuts on his inner thighs and butt. He likes to sunbathe around roses he grows and he's not the type of gardener to cut the thorns off. So he has to suffer the consequinces. But he's not too bothered by the little sting of those flowers when they bloom so beautifully and can still be fierce.

-But if you're sunbathing with him,he will be very careful to not let the thorns get you. He places you on top of him and holds you against his bare body. After all,you are the most perfect of all the flowers in the garden and he can't risk his rose to get pricked by thorns.

Glasyal La Bolas

- He stinks.

- This man is literary putting his pp into corpses. That thing smells and not the nice Beel smell but a smell of expired meat.

-He showers after...um....doing his thing,but this specific stench is quite hard to get rid off. In shame,he had to ask Orias for the strongest shampoo he knows off and 100% alcohol disinfectant from Paradise Lost. His king knows everything that happens in Hell,because of a certain invisible spy. You can imagine what horrors await him if his king found him walking around with a dirty willy.

- It's very cold too. No one knows how he does it but his body is naturally cold. Almost as if he's a corpse himself....meaning his pp can be quite refreshing in hot summer days!👍

- Now if you two are planning to have sex,berate him to take a shower. Even if he already did,make him do another one. I don't know about you,but I don't trust this man or his cock.

- Speaking of cock,we should talk about it. He is....large. Very large. He could have a shlong fight with Mammon if that ever happened. He is a centimeter behind Mammon though....still that thing is a beast.

-Some who got a glimpse of it said it is the stuff of nightmares. Not because of the size but the shape.

- He's thick,long and has a very unique tip. His tip is a bit spikier than most but only enough that it's noticable and very much pleasureable when he makes love with you. It's like his tip it designed by God to reach just the right spot in your insides. Not only that but his shaft naturally leans up when he's hard. It's like a pillar of monstrosity....If only you didn't know what he used that amazing dick for.

- But as amazing as it is,you need a lot of preperation to take him. It takes awhile for you to actually start to feel good and...he's not a very patient man. A night with him is like flipping a coin. You can either end up in heaven or in a hospital. Marbas as another big-pp owner always scolds him when you need to be healed up.

-Glasyal is not a monster though. He feels bad when you suffer because of his lust,though he will never admmit it straight. He does apoligise to you but not only with his words. He will put that evil mouth of his to good use and please his dying darling.~

Foras

- Shiny~

- He's...average in lenght. Nothing special,just a nice 15 cm pp.

-The color however!! Mm,tasty-looking. The shaft is a pretty,milky color with a pinkish hue. And the tip is just like his horns. A beautiful crystalic rainbow. It's a bit firmer than the rest of his cock. It also shines like a crystal when light hits it.

-He once skinny dipped in the sun with Barbatos and accidentally became the focus of gossip in Hades for a few weeks.

-It was a very sunny day and as soon as his pants fell to the floor,his member feeling the fresh air...Barbatos and a few by-standing devils got blinded by his penis. The sunlight shined right on his cock or more precicelly at his tip and blinded the eyes of many innocent devils.

-From that day onward he was rumored to have stolen a chip of the sun and now decorates his cock with it.

-The rumors ended up reaching his beloved king's ears...Let's just say Foras got a thorough examination by his idol while also threatened to be castrated by the envious king. Still the best day of his life.

-But do not worry about his shiny pp when you two are being intimate. He now always makes sure his foreskin is covering the tip. He will only show it once you two are in private without any natural light being close to it.

-Has a mole on his pubic area. Just a bit higher than where his member stands and on the left side.

- His cum...is of low quality.

-Mostly because it's invisible. You won't know when he's finished unless you check on his face. His face is very honest when it comes to pleasure.

- But yes,his seed is invisible. You can taste it in your mouth but can't see it. (If you randomly slip on nothing,it's his fault.)

- No hair. This man is as smooth as a baby's ass. Only because he thinks it would be rude of him to stand in his majesty Leviathan's presence while knowing there is pubic hair growing inside his pants. What if his king one day orders him to strip and be of service?! Oh...and for you too.

Orias

-....I fear him and his penis.

- He has a body of a young adult so...you can see why I am not sure if this is right of me to do...

(I will do Orias if people want but I am scared this could get....controversial.)

#whb #what in hell is bad #what in “hell” is bad? #whb foras #whb barbatos #whb glasyalabolas #whb orias

[respectthepetty]

Pride Petty Watch - LiTA (Sky/Prapai) 3/3

I'm watching Love in the Air for the first and ONLY time as part of my Pride Petty Watch, so I'm recapping my suffering experience. The previous recaps can be found here, here, here, and here. I made tea from Long Island *wink* and even though I am not mentally prepared for what's about to happen, I'm ready to finish this, so I can have a break from The Whores Horrors™.

*sign of the cross*

If I wasn't so upset at everyone but Sky and Sig, I think I would have really enjoyed the colors and the ways characters' positions showed power dynamics, but here I am, Bird Box-ing my way through the visual rhetoric.

Love really is blind because I feel Sky would stab Prapai if he heard Prapai call him "gentle" but Prapai has proven to not let reality get in the way of his vision.

I will keep repeating that when Prapai is good, he is the best. He is enamored by Sky picking out stationary. He is happy Sky remembered what he likes to eat. He is worried about Sky at school and his health. His flirty banter works in this setting. Everything is perfect (except Sky's shirt which I refuse to show because it got enough screen time without me adding to it).

How about we just stop here? Just like with Rain and Payu's story, this is a clear point that the story could end, and it would make sense, but noooooooo. The story needs TWO kidnappings because unlike telenovelas, apparently one was not suffice.

To think that Don't Say No was a choice for my Pride Petty Watch, but I'm here, suffering for my actions and watching Prapai forget who he slept with from his former roster. It happens to the best of us, 'Pai.

This is an odd comparison, but this is Last Twilight all over again for me. They just told each other how they feel with big declarations, and one hour later it all goes up in flames simply because the narrative demands it without it making any lick of sense.

AND WE ARE BACK IN THE RED!!!! This show gives me no peace and no relief, yet this time was less jolting because I felt it coming, and somehow him crying in the car repeating that it is happening again is more upsetting.

Get in, Slut for Christ! We're going to confessional, so you can pray for the sin of not taking no for an answer in a show full of people not taking no for an answer.

Not to stereotype, but you are wearing a holographic butterfly shirt, my dude, so what in the Lisa Frank bullshit are YOU doing in sex trafficking? You are not allowed on the Pride float this year, and if you dare to step on it, I will push you off of it and make it look like an accident AFTER I take the shirt off your body because you don't deserve nice things.

Prapai, you are better than this. You have displayed a mild sense of awareness regarding Sky, so having Sky breaking down right next to you without you acknowledging his pain is not your fault, but the story's, and I'm getting real salty about the way this plot wants me to like you yet simultaneously does everything to make me hate you. Was MAME fighting with herself when she wrote this?

Perfect example! Prapai has consistently followed up after the party because he knows something is off from Sky's responses, so he immediately questions if HE did something wrong instead of assuming it's Sky. He still sends Sky food. He goes by to check on him once. Then he brings out the burner cellphones.

As much as I complained about this behavior, it makes sense in this situation because it aligns with exactly who Prapai has been shown to be, a stalker (affectionately here, derogatory in previous episodes).

SO WHY WOULD HE BREAK INTO SKY'S APARTMENT AND READ THE JOURNAL?!

It's not even about the *thing* for me. It's about the lack of consistency for the sake of, what? drama? Prapai talked about swindling a key from Joy, so I'm not surprised he made his way into the apartment without Sky's knowledge, but for Prapai to use the key for this doesn't make sense with his previous behavior. Desperate times call for desperate measures, but Prapai has been desperate before and he consistently showed up at Sky's apartment to bother him. He tricked Rain into giving him information. He showed up ON CAMPUS to hound Sky. He sent flowers. Yet he does none of that here. Payu went to Rain's mama's house to hunt that boy down, yet Prapai doesn't get the same treatment. Payu got the opportunity to lock himself in a bathroom stall with Rain and sniff him after making a surprise visit to campus when Rain was avoiding him, yet Prapai must commit a crime to get to "I love you"?

And on that topic, the long break between Prapai stating he no longer liked Sky - while Sky was bursting with tears and started to cry harder - and Prapai saying he loved Sky was unnecessarily long. In fact, it was cruel. And as much as I hate Prapai's aggressive tactics and crass flirting, he has never been intentionally cruel to Sky, so Prapai ignoring Sky repeating "please, stop" again and again only to end with "I love you" doesn't work for me because that "please, stop" will rear its ugly head again when the ex enters the plot. Having Prapai do something very harmful to Sky who slowly crumbled down to the floor begging Prapai to stop, only to end with him doing something very loving and them smiling on the couch is an emotional beatdown that makes telenovelas jealous.

My boy Sig wasn't perfect because he defaulted to telling Sky to cheer up, but he asked the good questions, he let Sky stay with him as he worked through his feelings, he told Sky that Prapai loved him, and he told Sky to cry. He is a saint among cockroaches, and even though I do not believe in the institution of marriage, I would marry this man in a heartbeat and fully commit to the bit.

UNLIKE RAIN WHO IS NOW TRYING TO PROTECT HIS FRIEND AFTER HE WAS THE ONE WHO OFFERED UP SKY'S NUMBER AND APARTMENT KEY! I'm glad the story acknowledged that Rain's stupidity was pivotal to making this ship happen, so I'll acknowledge that both ships shift around yellow and blue as their love story develops.

---Episode 13---

I thought we were past this lighting and coloring, but this is a reminder that I'm in hell.

I completely forgot about the whole "Wipe Down" controversy in this show, and now I am fully judging y'all because out of all the SHIT that has happened in this show, especially in episode 13 so far, this is what y'all was upset about it? This was the battle y'all picked? The hill y'all wanted to die on was this moment? Y'all was mad because we were shown Prapai wiping down his partner as a basic form of care after sex? Prapai who stalks and breaks into apartments? THIS is the behavior of his that got y'all so riled up that you chose to write 2,000-word think pieces on and lower the show's rating on MDL with the long-ass comments?! THIS?! I hope your cardigans always snag, your soup always burns your tongue, and your glasses always have smudges on them because some of y'all do not deserve small joys or everyday whimsy. Shame on you, shame on your ancestors, and shame on your cow.

Prapai is checking that his helmet didn't hurt Sky when he hugged him, and I'm quickly coming around to the fact that "I don't hate you because you're problematic. You're problematic because I hate you the story hates you"

RAIN, NO!

I refuse to show this man's face or any of these scenes, but he is wearing a cross earring and the Sluts for Christ would like the record to state we do not know this man nor claim him, so we will be handling this situation promptly. However, we only need the ear, so if any other members of the delegation need anything specific, please add it to the Gay Agenda, and we will make sure to get those requests fulfilled in a timely manner. Thank you, and have a blessed day.

HE HAS A BRAIN CELL! HE'S GONNA PASS THIS COURSE!

Prapai just yelled at Sky, and I'm not even mad. This is where I'm at in the plot. Prapai ripped out the eyebrow earring, and I'm cheering him on. Payu stopped him, and I pissed. Prapai is rich. He will not go to jail. LET HIM MURDER!!!! He has already committed other criminal offenses, so what is murder to the list?! Mostly murder under these circumstances! THE CHARGES WON'T STICK!

SOMEONE BRING ME TAN SO WE CAN MORTAL KOMBAT THIS SHIT AND FINISH HIM!

"I'll cry for you" - My therapist will be sending you an invoice, LiTA

Chai, I knew I liked you. Your name is "Tea" and as a tea drinker, you have provided me the same level of comfort I get from a nice warm cup of spiced chai and I would also like you in my mouth. I fear you and respect you, so I know the sex will be fire and as the spokesperson for the Sluts for Christ, we have something you want, well . . . pieces of it anyway, so if you would like to exchange numbers, I can share with you any information I know perhaps over drinks . . . or under you. Whichever you prefer. I'm open to suggestions.

And commands.

Oh, thank God, I'm done! I am free. There is no more trauma to witness. Slytherin earned a point and passed the course. I never have to see him or these weather boys ever again!

*special episode pops up*

FUCK!

#love in the air #Pride Petty Watch #Marry Sig Eff Chai Kill Everyone #this was a rough watch #y'all are stronger than me because I will never watch this again #anything worth revisiting can be viewed through GIFs #in conclusion Payu and Rain are meant for each other #the story hated Prapai #and Sky is a sweet angel who deserved none of this #now I gotta hype myself up for that special episode #I really thought I could get this done in a day #and here I am ready to go into the third day #gonna go touch some grass now

[scoobydoodean]

CASTIEL I'm sorry, Dean, but I warned you not to put that thing back inside him. DEAN What was I supposed to do? Let T-1000 walk around, hope he doesn't open fire? CASTIEL Let me tell you what his soul felt like when I touched it. Like it had been skinned alive, Dean. If you wanted to kill your brother, you should have done it outright.

Another scene people use to villainize Dean for putting Sam's soul back in his body—a kind of meta I have already criticized several times. The context of this scene gets really lost in the weeds when it gets giffed. Most obviously when you actually watch the scene, it's part of a larger conversation about whether or not Sam (who's been unconscious for 10 days) is even going to wake up. Immediately prior to this bit of dialogue that always gets giffed:

DEAN Is he ever gonna wake up? CASTIEL I'm not a human doctor, Dean. DEAN Could you take a guess? CASTIEL Okay. Probably not. DEAN Oh, well, don't sugarcoat it.

Dean asking Cas questions ("Will he wake up?") that Cas doesn't have the answers to is also a thing Cas hates. He likes to avoid questions he doesn't have the answers to by flying off when he can (ex: 5.01, 6.03) or not showing up in the first place (ex: 6.03, 6.06). And all those moments this season have been in regards to questions about Sam's soul... because it's a sore subject in a way we can only realize retroactively after finishing 6.20 "The Man Who Would Be King" where we find out Cas is the reason Sam came back wrong to begin with.

In this scene, Cas thinks Sam isn't going to wake up, and he just felt his soul and saw what a terrible state it's in, and secretly, he sees this as his fault. If Cas hadn't fucked up, Sam's soul, just like his body, would have been back to the earthly realm within a week of Sam going to hell. Because he fucked up and missed something that probably feels painfully obvious in hindsight, Sam's soul spent a year in hell being "skinned alive" as Cas describes, while his body walked around fucking everyone around him over—including Dean who this was supposed to be for. It's his fault that Sam came back soulless. It's his fault that while soulless, Sam hurt people and used Dean and nearly killed Bobby. It's his fault that Dean got so desperate he put Sam's soul back in. It's his fault that Sam's soul is damaged like this because he's the one who accidentally left it behind (and making what in hindsight must feel like such an obvious mistake must be infuriating).

Cas was able to avoid the soulless Sam problem as long as Cas wasn't around. From afar, he could just say "good enough" to have Sam's body around even though he knew Sam was off and was secretly bothered by his behavior (6.06, 6.10). By putting Sam's soul back in his body, Dean unwittingly made the reminder of Cas's mistake unavoidable.

Cas wanted to bring Sam back to make Dean happy, but he fucked it up, and Dean faced the fallout and (tried to) clean up the mess, which probably stings. In the process, Dean was in danger and (by bargaining with Death) put himself in further danger—the number one thing Cas has been trying to avoid since watching Dean rake leaves— which probably stings. Dean asked Cas to touch Sam's soul and then Cas had to directly feel what his careless mistake meant Sam suffered through which definitely stings. And there isn't even a consolation prize here of "well at least I got his body out" anymore because (unwittingly) Dean is telling him “well your fuck up consolation prize wasn’t good enough”. Cas wants to convince himself soulless Sam could have been enough and HE isn’t the one that created Frankenstein’s Monster—Dean did—but Cas knows that isn’t true deep down. In his head, he ultimately created this situation and this incongruous Sam and all the fallout is on him. Sam wakes up and prays to him and Cas immediately shows up with no ulterior motives like an ancient weapons (such as in 6.03 or 6.06 or 6.10). He shows up purely because Sam is awake and alive and his soul is in his body and he's OKAY despite all the damage resulting from Cas's major fuck up and it's such a relief Cas forgets all the awkward interactions they had in season 5 and tries to hug him.

#6.12 #season 6 #pk rewatches spn number ? #sam and cas tag tbd #and cas is my best friend #castiels motivations

[solid-white]

Canon vs Fanon [TF2 edition]

Okay so I finally got to reading the tf2 comics after being gone for 7 years and never having read the comics, so here's a comparison between Fanon and Canon:

Fanon: The mercs all care for each other and are like a family (but who doesn't love some found family?)

Canon: They could give two shits about if they die or not. The only ones that actually "care" for the team is arguably Ms. Pauling and/or Scout. Even then they have their separate reasons for why they're sticking around around. They refer to and think of each other as coworkers. Though they're friendly with each other and do think of each other as work friends (helping each other out, making jokes with one another)

Fanon Demoman: a drunkard who's excessively flashy and eccentric. Ruins a lot of stuff by being drunk and shares the same braincells as canon Soldier.

Canon Demoman: A pretty chill guy when he isn't in battle. He's also pretty serious when it involves matters he needs to be serious about (ex. Having to go undercover in the lead paint town). Overall? 8/10 character. Currently my favourite besides Pyro.

Fanon Pyro: (will refer to Pyro as him) Sometimes his childish trait overlaps with his violent nature, the opposite spectrum happening as well. He's also sometimes depicted as being unaware that he's killer. Loves the team and sees all of them as family. Non-intellegent.

Canon Pyro: He's very much aware that he's a freak of nature. He's a gentle mix of childish and pyromaniac. Is actually pretty intelligent, having gotten a company rich in a matter of 6 months. Won't hurt people just cuz, only does so when it's a job or they dislike fires, and when he does, makes sure the person suffers because it's fun. Extremely chaotic. Barely interacts with the team (besides Engie) outside of jobs.

Fanon Scout: Childish, yaps, reckless, dies a lot because he's the runt, narcissistic, and doesn't know how to do anything (idiotic). "Erpy derp, me twink scout. Will not hurt you because bad." (Depicted as non violent). Comic relief. Doesn't get along with any of the mercs due to his childish nature, particularly Sniper and Heavy.

Canon Scout: Likes to yap a lot, has a brash attitude, and is self-centered/egotistical. He's also in deep denial that Spy is his father. He isn't book smart, but he's smart enough to know how to play his cards right (persuasive when it comes to things he wants). Knows how to drive. "And brother, I hurt people!" (Enjoys hurting others). Pretty close to Sniper (Hangs out with him outside of work/buddy-buddy with him. Ex. The fist bump, Sniper jokingly smiling at Scouts joke during expiration date, etc) he's arguably the only one who's truly buddy-buddy with the entire team.

Fanon Heavy: Big beefy guy who doesn't have a single brain (that assumption has corrected itself over time). He's also obsessed with sandviches, will pummel Scout if they're even in the same vicinity, and gay for Medic and will go out of his way to be close to Medic.

Canon Heavy: Intelligent (Russian literature PHD), doesn't speak much unless spoken to, serious and has a 24/7 stone wall expression. Only gets annoyed with Scout because of his constant speaking, willing to die for Medic and sees him as a close friend (now I understand where all the ship art came from). And loves sandviches.

This is getting long and I'm tired. Will continue analysis soon.

#tf2 #team fortress 2 #tf2 medic #tf2 heavy #tf2 pyro #tf2 scout #tf2 ms pauling #tf2 spy #tf2 demoman #tf2 mercs #tf2 sniper #tf2 soldier

[kjack89]

Never Say Die

Happy Barricade Day!

On the night of June 5th, Marius arrived home late. Cosette was not waiting for him at the door, wringing her hands with worry. She had learned her lesson after the first year, after hours spent pacing, wondering when Marius would return, fearing that something had happened to him – he was weak still, weaker than he would ever admit, try as he did to be strong for her especially, but his body had not yet fully healed even a year on, to say nothing of the other wounds he bore that very well may never heal. Marius had returned home eventually that first June night, late enough that the date had slipped from the 5th to the 6th, and when finally he did walk through the door, Cosette threw her arms around him. “I feared the worst,” she told him, her voice muffled against his shoulder. “I feared I may have lost you.”

His only response had been to stroke her dark hair gently, holding her until she let go. He offered no word then of where he had gone, or where he would again go the following year, or the year after. He did not voice the names of those he had lost, no more than he shared any tales of the time they had spent together. 

Not then, at least, but Cosette had slowly learned of those who had suffered the fate Marius had come so close to, when Marius let slip a name or the start of a story. At first, he would break off, his face creasing with pain from a wound that would never truly mend, no matter her ministrations. Then, over time, he would tell her more. Very rarely about the barricade itself, but more about the small moments he had shared with his friends, his observations of the men he had known.

As the years passed, Cosette felt like she finally knew the men she had never had a chance to meet, the men whose impact on Marius remained marked, even after all this time.

So much so that every June 5th, like the one in question, he would disappear from their house to spend time, seemingly, with the ghosts of his memory as his only companion.

And though she would never understand what it must be like to carry them with him, she could equally never find it in herself to begrudge him this one indulgence.

On the night in question, Cosette had long since retired to their bed, though she was still awake when he slipped in beside her, and she waited for him to make himself comfortable and blow out his candle before curling against him. 

For a long moment they lay together in silence until finally Cosette ventured softly, “I know that you miss them.”

Marius sighed. “I do,” he confirmed, equally quiet.

Cosette lifted herself up to tell him, sincerely, “I wish there was anything more I could do to ease this ache each June.”

Wordlessly, Marius gathered her to him, kissing her forehead. “I do miss them,” he repeated, “but that is– it is an old hurt now.” He shook his head. “Time heals, they say, and I know not how much truth there is in such a pat sentiment. But it does ease the consternation, at least slightly. And besides…”

He trailed off and Cosette frowned up at him. “And besides?” she prompted after a moment.

Marius cleared his throat. “And besides, they’re not gone, of course,” he finished, his voice a little rough. “Not truly.”

“In the way that no one who we love ever truly leaves us?” Cosette asked, laying her head against Marius’s chest.

He bent to press another kiss to the top of her head. “Yes,” he said, “but also no. It’s more than that.”

She tilted her head up toward him. “What do you mean?”

He hesitated. “I mean…they live on,” he said finally, the starkness of the statement emphasizing its sincerity. “They must.” He shrugged almost helplessly. “Just as I feel they must have lived before. Whenever one galvanizes a small group against all odds, I must believe that Enjolras is there in that moment, in that strength in the arm hoisting a flag high.”

Cosette had never heard him speak of his friends this way, and she almost held her breath, as if afraid that would be enough to break the spell.

Marius stroked her hair almost absentmindedly as he continued, something soft and almost wistful in his tone, “When one manages to teach the most important of lessons with the simplest of words, I must believe that Combeferre is speaking through them, as once he spoke to me. When one is bone-weary from scraping a living but still shows up in every way that matters, they keep Feuilly alive with them.”

His hand stilled and Cosette tightened her grip on him, just slightly, the small movement enough for his hand to resume its motions. “Bossuet lives through every selfless gesture, every sacrifice which may seem small but lights a fire that can never be extinguished, and Joly lives at his side to walk through that fire with him.” 

Despite himself, he smiled, just slightly. “And should my words, should anyone’s words in service of revolution seem even slightly poetic, then I know it is only because Jehan breathes them from our lips. And when words fail and fists become the only recourse, I know Bahorel is there, with that fierce grin.” 

He shook his head, his smile fading. “And whenever a toast is raised to friendship, to the unbreakable bonds of brotherhood, I will only ever see Grantaire, his bottle held aloft.”

“And Courfeyrac—” 

For the first time, his voice broke, and Cosette held him even tighter, not daring to speak. After a long moment, Marius cleared his throat, though he made no attempt to finish his thought, only kissing Cosette once more, the gesture saying more than his words ever could.

“They lived,” Marius said finally, his voice quiet but banded with steel. “They were real, flesh and blood. I touched them, I knew them, I loved them.”

Again his voice broke. “Love them still.”

He swallowed, hard, his voice rough and pained as he said, barely louder than a whisper, “And they died. And a part of my heart died with them on the barricade that day.”

There was just the hint of sob in his voice, the hint of such naked pain that caught in his throat as if he didn’t dare share it, and Cosette’s heart broke for him. Wordlessly, she propped herself upright and tugged him down so that their positions were reversed, so that she held Marius against her breast as he curled around her, hot tears soaking the bodice of her nightgown.

After a long moment, Marius recovered somewhat, drawing in a deep, shuddering breath and shifting so that his head rested against his shoulder, and he reached down to take her hand, lacing their fingers together. “They died,” he repeated, more steadily this time. :But their ideas—” He shook his head. “They were never solely theirs and so could never, can never, truly die.” He turned his head to press a kiss to her shoulder before adding, “Not until all chains and broken and there are no battles left to fight, at least.”

He brushed his thumb lightly against her knuckles. “It is a beautiful gift, in a way,” he whispered, more to himself than to her, “to live forever as a thread in the fabric of freedom.” He squeezed her hand. “And as much as I miss them, and I do, some days more than words, some days so much that my heart feels it might claw its way from my chest, there is great comfort in knowing that.”

Marius took one last deep breath before finishing, “And it makes it at least a little easier to bear.”

For one long moment, Cosette was silent, simply holding Marius against her, her own unshed tears pricking at the corners of her eyes. Then she bent to kiss his forehead like a benediction, like absolution for that pain she knew he still carried with him. “For what little it is worth,” she whispered, “though I never met them, I feel as though they live within my heart as well.”

“It is worth everything,” he told her, tugging her down to kiss her properly before telling her, “And that too makes it easier to bear.”

As much as she would never truly know if Marius meant it, or simply said it to ease her own conscience, the secondhand hurt she carried from him, Cosette still felt something warm bloom in her chest at his words, and she pulled him closer still, holding him silently  with the only comfort she could offer until sleep claimed them both.

If all of his friends lived within him, within any who continued their fight, then Cosette had to believe that Marius too would live on inside anyone who survived to fight still.

And as she drifted to sleep still holding Marius against her, she could not help but think that was as beautiful a belief as any she’d ever held.

#marius pontmercy #cosette fauchelevent #marius x cosette #courfius #implied at least #les miserables #canonical character death #canon era #post canon #grief #but so much love #so so so much love

[oddsconvert]

My brain: make friends! Send asks! Exist in more then just your blog!

Me: but what if I'm scared of friends!?!?!

Anyway, can I request Ronan catching Issak hurting Henley?

Flowers for author. 💐💐💐💐💐

Friends!!! It's official! No being scared! <3 I am so sorry for the delay with this but I hope this ticks your boxes! :D

---

“How do you sleep at night?”

Henley stirred awake, his world a blurred mess of throbbing pain. Crusted sleep clung to his lashes, he blinked fiercely to chase away the haze. He could only just about make out a hulking silhouette looming over him. When his vision finally sharpened, he instinctively clutched his scratty blanket closer to his heaving chest - his futile shield.

Cold dread flooded Henley as he saw Izaak, free of the chains that usually rattled with every twitch of a muscle. The chains that kept Henley safe and sound, out of harm's way. Far from Izaak’s reach.  Izaak's fists were clenched so hard his knuckles were white, his face contorted in a feral snarl. Panic squeezed Henley’s chest like a vice. He was a rabbit trapped in a fox's den. 

“Wha-?” Henley’s voice was a hoarse rasp. He’s half-convinced no sound left his lips at all. 

"Oh, did I interrupt your sweet dreams, Henny?" Izaak's voice was a low growl, sending shivers trickling down Henley's spine. That nickname. The way it dripped with mocking familiarity, but years of ingrained fear hid within it. It made all the hairs on Henley’s arms stand on edge. 

Izaak suddenly lunged forward. One massive hand clamped around Henley's throat, squeezing every last drop of air from his lungs. Henley's wrists burned in protest against his chains, straining as he fought for a sliver of slack, a desperate inch to reach his throat and fight Izaak off. "You," Izaak spat, barely containing his rage, "are the reason for my suffering. The cause of my anguish. Every scar on my body has your name written on it.."

Tears pressed from beneath Henley’s eyelids, and he shook his head furiously. Passionately. No. It’s not true. He’s not responsible for this. He didn’t land them here, he didn’t start all of this. This is all Izaak’s doing. This is the price he has to pay. 

“So answer the question,” Izaak demanded, now nearly crushing Henley’s windpipe as he choked and wheezed, “How the hell do you sleep at night? No. Scratch that shit. Better yet. How do you live with yourself? After what you’ve done to me?”

“I-Izaak, pleas-”

Izaak’s fist came at Henley with such speed it was like a cannonball. It connected with a sickening crunch as Henley felt his nose cave in, and hot-white pain erupted. The force of the blow sent him sprawling, the floor rose up to meet him with a jarring thud. He lay helpless. Cool blood dripped from his nose and pooled on his lips, he could taste the metallic tang. 

“You dare call me that again, and I’ll put you six feet under this fucking cement. Understand?” Izaak seethed through gritted teeth, with spit spraying and a vein pulsing from his temple. Izaak didn’t even give him the second to respond, Henley was still reeling and seeing stars. “I SAID, “DO YOU UNDERSTAND?!” he roared. 

“Yes!” Henley wailed miserably. Tears mingled with blood and dirt. He sniffed pathetically and whimpered as new pain flared through his obviously broken nose. He stayed glued to the floor. Too afraid to move, to even dare lift his head up. Henley didn’t see Izaak reaching for his long curls of hair and wrenching them in his fist. Yanking his head back, Henley’s Adam's apple bobbed against his collar as he gasped and gulped back the fear.

“‘Yes’, what?” Izaak whispered. It was hard to miss the element of enjoyment in his voice. It sounded like old times. Must feel like it to him too. 

But Henley immediately knew what he was looking for.

“Yes, sir!” Henley gasped out. There’s not a beat of hesitation. Izaak can say many things about Henley. A bad pet, he is not. 

Henley’s head smacked to the ground, his forehead banging against cold, unforgiving cement as Izaak threw him out of his hand. He’s on a warpath. He paced back and forth, contemplating what to do next. 

Izaak's foot then swung into Henley's gut. The air whooshed from Henley's lungs in a strangled scream that ripped free from his throat. The world lurched sideways, a wave of nausea crashing over him. Bile rose in his throat as pain lanced through his abdomen. Izaak unrolled Henley from his cocoon and straddled his hips, slamming his palm over Henley’s mouth, “Shut the fuck up! Don’t you dare make a sound.”

Henley obeyed. He forced himself to seal his lips, now sobbing silently and huffing through the pain. 

“You got us into this fucking mess. You deserve everything you’ve got coming to you. I’m going to make you wish you were never born-”

“I already do-” Henley croaked.

Izaak doesn’t hold back anymore. He unleashed a flurry of punches, raining blow after blow down on Henley. Henley’s already-battered body convulsed with each hit - he twisted and flailed in a desperate bid to shield himself from the onslaught. It was no use. Darkness cornered his vision, and ringing screeched in his ears. His entire body was slowly growing limp.

Henley squeezed his eyes shut, waiting for the sweet relief of unconsciousness. He waited for the next punch. And waited. But it never came. Confused, Henley cracked open a swollen and purpling eye.

Izaak was no longer looking at him, and a flicker of raw terror replaced the unhinged rage that had plagued his eyes before. Henley groaned as he lifted his pounding head, and turned to follow Izaak’s petrified stare.

A shadow shifted at the top of the stairs, a tutting sound emanating from the darkness.

“What are you doing to my boy?” Ronan asked, cool as a cucumber on the surface, but fury bubbled below. The calm facade didn’t last. Ronan flew down the stairs, and pulled that oh so familiar remote from his pocket. In the blink of an eye, Izaak was a quivering, jittering wreck as his shock collar lit up and shocked him stiff. He collapsed from Henley’s body like a tonne of bricks. His screams pierced the sound barrier - his fingers scrabbled and ripped at the collar, kicking his legs and bucking his entire body. Ronan punched the button again, and again until the screaming stopped. It’s just silent gargles, with drool dribbling down the edge of Izaak’s blue lips. 

Ronan threw Henley a single, and quick look as he bolted past. It wasn't a look of reassurance, but a quick flicker up and down to acknowledge him. Reaching his locked cabinet, Ronan fumbled with the combination and finally, the cabinet swung open, and he snatched a vial and syringe, and a length of rope.

He wastes no time in racing over to where Izaak is heaving and panting on the floor, and stabbing the syringe in his neck. Izaak roared, a sound that curdled the blood, but it was cut short by a weak gasp as the muscle relaxant began to take hold.

“There, there. That should settle you down, big-un,” Ronan chuckled, patting Izaak on the chest.

“F-ffuc- fuckk y-yoou,” Izaak slurred, his eyes rolled like pinball machines in their sockets. Henley watches as all the tone in Izaak’s muscle depleted and he flopped lifelessly. Izaak lay sprawled on the floor, a pathetic mew escaping his lips as the muscle relaxant coursed through his veins. His previously violent thrashing had dissolved into a pathetic trembling, his limbs heavy and unresponsive.

Henley's cry echoed through the basement. Now that the threat was neutralised. "You didn't tie him tight enough, sir! He almost—!" His voice choked on the rising panic, his gaze locked on Izaak's slack form. “He was going to kill me.”

Ronan paid no mind to Henley, the shivering wreck that he was. Instead, he focused on yanking Izaak’s arms behind his back. With rough rope, he bound Izaak's wrists together with a vengeance, the knots pulled tight, drawing a choked gasp that did little to faze Ronan. Next, he secured Izaak's ankles with another length of rope, the slack yanked out until Izaak's legs were splayed uncomfortably wide. Finally, with a cruel twist, Ronan bound Izaak's ankles to his secured wrists, hog-tying him in a position that screamed discomfort. Izaak's gasps faded to choked moans as his body contorted in a way it wasn't meant to, forced into an arched bow.

Ronan left Izaak on the ground and approached Henley slowly. With a touch that could have been gentle or cruel, he cupped Henley's bruised and bloodied cheek. Henley flinched at the contact, a hiss escaping his lips. Ronan’s eyes flickered over the damage and he tsked, disappointed. Then his eyes met Henley’s and locked in. “Do you really think I’d let him break one of my favourite toys?”

“He - He got pretty close, master.” Henley snivelled. He flinched as Ronan’s arms moved, expecting another blow, but instead, his arms wrapped around Henley’s tiny frame in a sudden and suffocating embrace. Ronan’s grip was tight, possessive, leaving no wiggle room. Defeated, Henley sagged into the hug and rested his head on Ronan’s chest, letting his eyes flutter shut. It was always easier to give into this than brave the pain. Ronan began to stroke Henley’s hair, twirling it in his fingers. It wasn’t a gesture of genuine affection and Henley was never under the impression that it was. It was Ronan’s sense of ownership. Like Izaak’s claim was the bruises and scars. Ronan’s was more inside than out. For Henley, at least.

“Shh Shh. Come with me. I’ll get you patched up, little one”. Grunting with effort, Ronan hoisted Henley to his feet, a hand wrapped under his armpit to guide him up the creaking stairs.

Ronan turned at the very last step, leering at the sight of Izaak, bound and subdued. "That little temper tantrum of yours was cute, pet" he called down, his voice heavy with sarcasm. "But playtime's over. Now, you get to lie there, nice and quiet, and contemplate all the fun things I have planned for you when your little cocktail wears off. I want you to feel every second.”

----

Taglists!:

Henley taglist: @livelaughwhump @kira-the-whump-enthusiast @sorrowful-hyacinth

Ronan taglist: @kira-the-whump-enthusiast

Izaak taglist: @emmettland @kira-the-whump-enthusiast @sorrowful-hyacinth @whumpsoda

Drabble taglist (which I forgot existed and have recently rediscovered assdfghjkl so will be using from now on unless you would like off it <3 ): @whatwasmyprevioususername @whumpsday @sparrowsage @whumperfully @wolves-and-winters @canislycaon24 @happy-little-sadist @darkthingshappen @whumping-in-the-dark @vagabouund @turn-the-tables-on-them

#thank you for this!! <3 #It was a lot of fun! #whump #whumper turned whumpee #whumperee #pet whump #whumpee #whumper #multiple whumpees #tw beating #tw blood mention #shock collar #noncon drugging #dubcon touch? #creepy whumper #whump writing #answered asks #whump community #whumpblr #whump blog #captivity #a taste of your own medicine #henley allen oc #izaak silvera oc #ronan ellis oc #ATOYOM

[cowchickenbeefpork]

THIS TOOK SO FUCKING LONG TO FINISH DUE TO LEES CLOTHES AND HER NECK WOUND OUGHHHHHHH

imo the Tetch virus arc was written quite clumsily…the whole thing is supposed to be a loss of control a loss of self by acting in your own impulses like a wild animal but their ego is still like. Very much there it becomes more a violent defense of the ego instead of what's beneath, what is truly repressed the most by the individual. like we dont see deep down what these characters truly are if you took away any social paint and put their worst most repress impulses on the frontline. its literally just the original characters but a bit more fucked up, the virus should focus way wayyyyyyyy more on the impulses than the ego justifications

like jim gordon we get told multiple times how much gulit he has for his actions how hes huanted by whats he done to others during this AND WE SEE JACK SHIT OF THAT WHEN HE HAS THE VIRUS THAT MAKES YOU ACT ON YOUR IMPULSES! MAKE HIM SHOW WEAKNESS IN THIS ARC! SHOW TEARS! SHOW GULIT! SHAME! ANYTHING HE FUCKING REPRESSES MORE THAN HIS LITTLE FITS OF ANGER!!!!!!!!!! BIOLOGY DOES NOT KNOW WHAT IS MORE MORALLY WRONG IT WOULD MAKE HIM THINK ABOUT THAT MORE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

i also dont like how they just make her fine and in love with Jim again after she gets the virus, if its having your most deep-seated impulses take over, wouldnt she try to get rid of him???? let her get mad at him and try to kill him for sure, LET HER TRY TO KILL THIS MAN AND MAKE IT TORTUOUS AND LONG!!!!!! LET HER BE MEAN! LET HER BE PRIDEFUL LET HER TRY TO INTENTIONALLY HURT OTHERS DURING THIS ARC BECAUSE SHE IS NEVER ABLE TO!!!!! LET HER BE MEANNNNNNNN

basically in my rewrite the tetch virus basically just almost completely removes the impulse control of someone and fixates on the things most repressed by the individual, taking them over completely, making them unrecognizable, making them act like a wild animal. those most repressed impulses/desires will also begin to seep themselves into other aspects of being as well, like hunger, thirst, libido, anything like that. the virus also often makes someone be able to lose a shit ton of blood while still living, if it didn't then it wouldn't be able to spread to other people as easily

lee still puts Jim in a coffin with a little radio linked to one she gave the GCPD but more so to give them a long and tortuous death while making sure everyone else around him suffers too, the only reason he got out AND GOT THE VIRUS WHEN LEE NEVER INTENDED THAT TO HAPPENED was they found him in that fucking coffin after over a hour and lee accidentally bled all over his face, not even aware she was bleeding from her own neck because of how focused she was on having this fucker die

#Tw gore #tw Blood #gotham #gotham fox #gotham 2014 #canon rewrite #gotham rewrite #gotham fanart #fanart #blue #red #jim gordon #leslie thompkins #gotham tv #artists on tumblr #my artwork #gotham art #jim gordon fanart #leslie thompkins fanart #also. this is her new outfit for that arc. shes dirty as hellllll #this better not flop i spent 6 and a half hours on it in total grrr

[brunette-bitch77]

ɢᴏᴛ ʏᴏᴜʀ ʜᴀɪʀ ᴅᴏɴᴇ, ɴᴀɪʟꜱ ᴅᴏɴᴇ ᴛᴏᴏ!

╰┈➤ A new outfit and your Fendi shoes ᡣ𐭩

For when your man sees you after you ran your "errands," AKA getting a blowout, mani-pedi, and anything else you might've needed done. Who is he to resist when his chick looks so good? (Songfic inspired by Jumpin' Jumpin' by Destiny's Child.) Toji Fushiguro/Zen'in x transfem!reader (pre-Mamagumi because you are Mamagumi) Includes: Toji Fushiguro (might add more chars later! this is just me testing the waters)

╰┈➤ It's a well known fact that Toji Zen'in doesn't come from a whole lot of money (well, he does; he was just abused and kicked out by said money), but that was never an issue for the man when it came to making it. He could earn plenty of money other ways such as taking up odd jobs, carrying out bounties, etc. So when he started dating your high maintenance self, he knew he'd have to up his earnings in order to provide for you (partner lemme Upgrade U). He's a simple man after all - why wouldn't he wanna provide for you, even if it was just by giving you a few hundred dollars to run your errands? Quite possibly the only thing that he kept from his family was his provider mentality. Never again would he see someone close to him suffer or starve because of his shortcomings.

Hearing the car pull into the lot, Toji knew it was you when you came home from the music that he could hear through the walls—that infectious late 90s beat creeping through his veins. He paused the MMA fight he was watching, turning around as the door hinges creaked open.

"Tojiii, I’m home!" you sang from the doorway, putting your keys away in your cute little Dior saddle (the one Toji got you after saving up several paychecks). Toji walked over with a big grin on his face, encircling his arms around your body out of habit. "Uh-uh, don't touch the hair just yet," you piped up, putting your hands in front of him to stop him from getting too close to you and potentially ruining your perfect hair.

Toji couldn't help but let out a laugh and shake his head. "C'mon, doll, just lemme give you a kiss," he said in that deliciously raspy voice of his. You reluctantly obliged, letting him put his hands on your hips, pull you in for a kiss, and sigh into it. "Now, let's see those nails of yours," he added with a big grin on his face, taking both of your hands and holding them up.

He let out a low whistle. "Damn, baby, that's a good manicurist ya got there. I should give them a big fat tip for keeping my girl so cute." The design in question were pink, blue & yellow nails with some hibiscus flowers & a cute little anime reference here & there (insert your fav Shōjo)—a perfect set for the summertime.

You let out a giggle, pulling your hands back and laughing at him. "Okay, okay, you can touch the hair," you relented, turning your head for extra effect.

"Right, the perfect hair that you don't wanna fuck up” he murmured, shaking his head. "I'm like a bull in a china shop, eh?"

"Yeah, 'cus you're a big brute," you snarked, making him smack you on the ass out of jest. He was a brute, but he knew how to be careful around you. "Nah, but for real, doll, you look fuckin' fantastic," he said in a more serious yet complimentary tone. "That bounce in your hair makes you look mighty fine."

You allowed him to run his hands through your silky, freshly-washed hair, reveling in the way his fingers felt on your scalp. "Feels even better with ol’ Toji’s fingers in it, yeah? I could touch this shit alll day long." He put his hands up when you shot him a look at that statement. "Or... for as long as you'll let me."

His hands left your scalp, only to trail down your cheek, all the way onto your chin. "Can I kiss you, princess?"

"Mhm," you murmured, bringing a scarred smile to his handsome face. He leaned in, giving you a slower, more passionate kiss than before.

"Fuck... y'lip gloss tastes so yummy," he murmured against your lips. "I can't get enough of you, y'know baby? My pretty little princess... I should show you off when you get all this shit done, make everyone 'round the block jealous."

"I was actually gonna go out with my friends later today," you piped up, pulling away slightly. "I was listening to Jumpin' Jumpin' earlier, and it made me wanna go out."

Toji didn't look disappointed at this news; rather, his smile widened. "Yeah? You havin' a girls' night?" He asked, eyebrows raised slightly. You nodded, shooting him another smile.

"Y'know, blowouts last a few days, especially when they're done by a real professional like the one I've been going to for six years. Plus, I know how to upkeep it on my own."

Toji chuckled, shaking his head. "I knew those hair products were for somethin'. Nah, I'm not upset or anything, baby; I'm happy for you—happy that you've got a nice group of girls to hangout with. You deserve it all, sweetheart. The cute outfits, the fun friends; and the sexy boyfriend of 'yers." He couldn't help but reach out and grab your jaw softly, rubbing it and eliciting a big, blushy smile from you. "Aww, would you look at that pretty smile? Love it when you smile like that. I don’t get why you used to be so insecure ‘bout it."

You pulled away once again, not wanting it to go any longer and lead to anything too sweaty. "I promise I'll come right back home afterwards. I won't give any random guys an opportunity to shoot their shot with me," you reassured him. "Y'know, I think you might've domesticated me in a way, Toji. I'm always looking forward to coming home to you after everything's said and done."

"Yeah?" he asked again, amused by your admission. "Well I'm glad, baby. We go together real well, hm?" He couldn't resist the urge to pull you in with both of his arms around your waist, nuzzling his lips into your neck. "I'm already looking forward to your homecoming, princess. I wanna feel those nails raking up and down my back."

"Toji, stop!" You said with a giggle. "You're gonna flatten my hair at this rate." "Oh, yeah? Y'know, even with flat hair, you'd still be the prettiest girl in the room. To me at least." Toji left one last kiss on your neck before letting you go, watching as you picked up the shopping bags on the floor.

"I need to go... put these clothes away before they wrinkle," you said, struggling to balance all the bags on your arms.

"Please, lemme help you," he said, grabbing the bags for you and carrying them to your shared room. He pushed the door open, carrying the bags as if they were light as air, setting them down outside of the closet. "I dunno know why you buy all that stuff if you can barely carry it. What would you do without your boyfriend?" he asked cockily.

You rolled your eyes, shaking your head just a little. "Thanks, baby," you said gratefully, pressing a kiss to Toji's cheek.

"Anytime." He eyed the bags curiously, wondering what could possibly be inside of them. A new pair of Manolos? A new dress? He would never admit it, but he loved it when you shopped and bought new things. You always had impeccable taste, and he adored the way you put yourself together. "So, doll," he finally said after mustering up the courage. "Mind letting me see what you got?"

┆ ┆ ┆ ┆⋆ Mini-skip

Toji made sure that you made good on your word that night regarding trying out your nails. He didn't waste a single time welcoming you home after your girls' night out, taking you right up to your shared bedroom with a grin on his face, sloppily kissing up your neck and peeling off your dress.

Right now? He was all but plowing you into the mattress, as he always did when he fucked your brains out. "Fuck, baby," he growled, looking down at you as he made sweet, sweet love to you. "You always look so... fuckin' good underneath me like this, but that blowout just adds the finishing touch. Even if your... hair's all fucked up, I'll take you to the salon for another one."

You, meanwhile, weren't able to process what he was muttering into your ear. You probably couldn't even discern if he was calling you a whore or asking you to marry him; it just felt so good.

"Fuck, oh, fucking fuck, T-Toji!" You moaned into his ear, moaning and writhing about underneath the big brute's frame.

Toji let out a breathless chuckle at your incoherent babbling. "Never heard you say 'fuck' so many times in one sentence - maybe I could make you say it a few more times!"

He readjusted the angle at which he was snapping his hips into your ass, fucking you even deeper as if that could even be possible. "Feel my dick inside of ya? Rearranging your guts? Shiiit, doll, take it like you mean it. Gonna stuff ya full of my fucking cum, you won’t be able to strut 'yer shit anymore,” he drawled, slapping your jiggly ass with his calloused fingers.

He picked up on the way that you were holding onto him, your hands gripping the muscles that lined his broad back. "Such a bully," you whimpered, "quit bullyin' me, Toji! Y’know I can’t take it when you- you pound me like this!!" You complained, tears welling up in your eyes. He let out a laugh at your pleas, cooing into your ear. "C'mon, baby; I'd never bully you. I don't think bullying involves making you cum over and over again now, does it?" He cocked his head, smiling like a devil at the sight of you so fucked out because of just a few hip movements. "Besides, you know how to take it. I’ve trained you to take this dick. Remember how you could barely move when we first started dating? Shit, I'm the best tutor there is.”

After a few more huffs and strokes of the cock, he asked: “Why don't you... drag those nails down my back, yeah? Leave a few marks on my muscles?"

You eagerly obliged, raking your nails up and down his muscled back. "Yeah, that's it, there you go, my sweet baby. Make my back fuckin' bleed baby girl," he praised, purring into your ear. He threw his head back, the slightly painful scratching making him even harder and hornier (as if that was even possible).

He threw his head back then looked back down at you. "I'm gonna fuck you 'til my back's bloodier than a mary."

Suffice to say, he loved your nails.

© ʙʀᴜɴᴇᴛᴛᴇ-ʙɪᴛᴄʜ77 on tumblr - get your own shit bitches | ca. 6/5/2024

#toji fushiguro x reader #toji smut #toji x reader #toji x you #toji zenin #jjk toji #jjk x reader

[saintobio]

Hello Saint! I think it's the first time I write around here, but I followed you since sincerely not was going out.

I've been waiting for the next chapter of sincerely yours, but I might recognise I've been nervous reading it because I was afraid of what would happen.

I really apreciate that finally Suguru (thanks to our queen Shoko ;) ) realise the pain's Yn has been suffering since she returned from New York and all that happened after. I completely understood his point of defending his best friend too. And also, I loved how he went for Gojo to tell him about the situation of main character.

The scene where yn is alone with her thoughts broke me in so many ways that I couldn't explain it with words. But what really had me on tears was when Satoru tells her about he gave his heart to her. And I was thinking: Yn has the pendant since he gave it to her in the hospital? In my mind, she would have taken it off after the revellation part. It was endearing to see how our main character held his heart even when she claimed she left it behind.

About Akemi, I don't know what to think. I'm still in a debate of caring for her pain (I'm a big defendant of trust and loyalty in a relationship) but in the other hand I couldn't stop being "happy" seeing her realise that her fairy tale, it was only that.

I have so many theories on my mind but I don't know how to put in words. Why Satoru followed Akemi? It was by Yn's request? Would main character be more confused about her fellings now that she feels remorse? I'm afraid of what's next, honestly speaking. I'm afraid that all of that causes more pain in the main character. And also, I'm afraid of little Sachiro. Why I can't stop thinking about how all of this is gonna have its consequences on the poor baby?

As I always thought, Saint I love reading your story and how do you express the emotions of all characters perfectly. I'll be waiting patiently for the next chapters. Thank you for reading me!

yesyes i recognize your user, and thank you for staying w me since sn days :’) it’s always to nice to hear from long time readers <33

if not for my decision to drop the sideplots, i honestly would have loved to go deeper into how suguru came into that realization (and tbh, before the wedding there was supposed to be a scene where suguru catches yn at a bar, sulking over her recent breakup with toji, and she tells him she doesn’t understand why other people are allowed to hurt her but she’s a terrible person if she does it to others) 🥹 i had to focus on the main characters, so that scene was scrapped off.

and yn only started to wear the necklace again during the wedding! it was her plan all along to throw it away, to let go of the last piece she has of gojo.

#🖤: letters to saint #series: sincerely yours

[daemon-in-my-head]

It's a new day so a new attempt at cracking the tyrant like a shell, congratulations everybody watch me brainstorm in real time. Anyway, a treat for the long lives races:

Picture with me; Gorty and Durge taking their usual evening stroll over the graveyard (or somebody orchestrating a low scale burial of some poor unfortunate soul that came into an accident), either way, Durge halts in front of a grave. An older one, one that hasn't been taken care of for a while. The inscription withered and hidden beneath remnants of nature. But Durge talks to them. Apologises perhaps for taking so long to return. For missing the moment they should've witnessed. For failing whoever became the owner of that grave. Or perhaps expressing a longing. Telling the owner how they missed them. That sorta stuff.

Gortash, of course, witnesses all that. The uncanny tenderness in the face of death. This 'human' side they're suddenly capable of portraying. So he asks for the name. About the person laying there. And to honour their partnership, Durge tells him. About the kid they had mercy on once. The kid they perhaps saved. The kid they allowed to survive. The kid that lived ages ago. The kid who's last name was Flymm.

It wasn't Gortash. It wasn't Dravo either. It was one of his grandparents who had been saved by the merciless spawn of Bhaal. But as they spared them, they also allowed for Dravo to exist. They allowed for them to raise Dravo the way he became. They taught Dravo what he'd teach Gortash, the good and the bad. They allowed for Gortash's suffering to come to be.

But they also allowed Gortash to live. Far before they even knew him. If they hadn't saved that Flymm, Gortash would've never come to exist.

They doomed him. Centuries ago. In the same breath as they've given him life. And now they've become his salvation. So Gortash's struggles. Incapable of determining what he is supposed to feel. How he's supposed to treat them now. All while Durge stays oblivious. They had no idea what turmoil they caused. After all, they only ever knew Enver Gortash, they were in the dark about his relationship with the Flymms.

#the twisted feelings yall #the fucked up irony #the damnation and salvation all in one #the blessing and the curse #what will gortash do? #will he break? #is it finally enough? #to owe his life to the person who damned him too? #enver gortash #durgetash #refusing the childhood friends band wagon by coming up with even worse shit #his pain is my pleasure atp

[saiyanmazen]

Vegeta attending the Pride Parade!

Thank you to the awesome anon who suggested a fic about Vegeta attending a Pride Parade and learning about demisexuality. Inspiration struck me unexpectedly fast.

Can also be read on AO3.

A Different Kind of Pride

When Vegeta first heard about the Pride Parade, he thought it was something very different. Pride was certainly something to be celebrated, especially if it was for one's achievements. He'd long learned that heritage itself wasn't an element of pride unless you used your inherited skills in an honorable way. No one chose which race or even nationality they came from; patriotism often did more bad than good in such regards.

The people, for whom the Pride Parade was, were proud of themselves for reasons that Vegeta found it difficult to understand, not because he didn't respect them, but mostly because of his own past in the PTO.

Sexual or romantic preferences hadn't been a conversation topic when he grew up in Frieza’s army. Frieza himself was, as far as Vegeta had heard, sexless - both lacking genitals and a libido - and didn't care enough to understand his underlings’ urges. While he did find joy in exploiting a person's loved ones against them, he generally disliked that his own warriors could be used in a similar manner by his enemies. It was far easier to ban it completely.

Nevertheless, it never stopped anyone from following their biological instincts. Dalliances might have been against the rules and kept somewhat secret, but they were very common. There wasn't any talk of who preferred which gender for their indulgences, or even which kind of species. With so many aliens from different worlds, it often happened that incompatibility was an issue, but even that never hindered anyone. After all, nothing was truly a hindrance for romantic love and only one's imagination was the limit when it came to sexual gratification.

Vegeta learned most of what he knew from Nappa and Raditz. The two remaining saiyans were not strangers in the pursuit of the pleasures of the flesh. While Nappa would basically engage in activities with any female, no matter the race or whether they were prostitutes or willing to bed him for free, Raditz preferred bipedal partners who resembled saiyans as much as possible. He was attracted to the two genders that seemed to be the most common ones throughout the universe - male and female - but he had told Nappa he couldn't outrule the possibility that he would find a lover from another species if the right one came along.

Because, unlike Nappa, Raditz wasn't only interested in sexual release. He had been in a couple of romantic relationships, despite Vegeta’s discouragement. The low class warrior had suffered a few heartbreaks as a result, but it hadn’t dampened his hope of finding his ‘true love’. Of course, he had never shared any of these things with Vegeta, knowing how much the Prince hated all related to the subject, but Vegeta had overheard much more than he wished to since Raditz was a notoriously talkative drunk.

A large part of Vegeta’s disapproval of all relationships, casual or not, came from Frieza’s regulations. Not that he cared about the lizard's rules, but because he knew that breaking them would lead to punishments he would rather avoid, especially if it was used against him. He would also argue to other people - mainly Nappa who had carefully made insinuations that regular physical releases would help his anger issues - that no one was good enough for a Prince of a proud race like the saiyan one. Nappa himself had put Vegeta on a pedestal as the race's savior when he was but a child. Therefore, his opinion of everyone being beneath him wasn't unbelievable.

All these excuses were true, but they were just that: excuses. The real reason that Vegeta had never sought out anyone was that he hadn’t felt any kind of attraction to another person. He'd felt the hormonal urges like any other young saiyan when he hit puberty, but it was purely biological and he generally handled it with a detached routine that relieved the pressure whenever his body needed it, seemingly without reason.

In some ways, he envied his fellow soldiers and the enjoyment they appeared to take in their activities, but he rationalized that the cons outweighed the benefits. He'd witnessed the effects of sexually transmitted diseases on Nappa, the painful heartaches that Raditz dealt with and the torture methods Frieza had devised when a couple was discovered; the last being especially worrisome as he knew that the Emperor kept a close eye on the saiyan Prince.

No, Vegeta had felt like he'd been better off, even if it had caused a deeper sense of loneliness than he already dealt with. And he had believed this when he was invited to live in the house of one headstrong, brilliant beauty.

She was the one to change this state of mind in him. Little by little, he had become drawn to her and eventually he'd been unable to stay away from her. There had been something about her that inadvertently pulled him in.

He'd resisted to the point that his obstinance became ridiculous because he always returned to her. The first time he'd made love to her, he'd felt whole in a way he'd never experienced before. Naturally, he had panicked and run off into space right after, trying to deny any feelings that arose in him, but he'd found his way back to her and hadn't really left her since.

Now he was here, tied to her, with two children that he loved despite being well aware of how vulnerable they made him. His oldest, Trunks, had recently ‘come out’ to his family and friends. It hadn't come to a surprise to anyone, nor had it when the boy told them that he was in a relationship with Goten. Truthfully, Bulma and Vegeta had bet on how long it would take for Trunks to tell them. She had won, having believed that Trunks knew he would be accepted just as he was.

It was because of Trunks that they all went to the Pride Parade this year. Bulma and Trunks had gone a couple of times in the years prior, but Vegeta hadn't even considered it before. However, staying home wasn't a possibility this time. His wife had disabled the gravity chamber and even threatened to cook dinner for a whole month if he didn't come to show his support. Obviously, he had no real choice in the matter.

While the Briefs, Vegeta included, were supportive of anyone with ‘unconventional’ preferences, he knew that many people were of the belief that it was wrong to stray from the traditional conventions of a man and a woman in a so-called regular relationship. Vegeta didn't understand the reasoning for this, but it was clear why ‘queer’ folk wanted to show how proud they were of who they were when there existed this stubborn, conservative side of society that refused to accept the freedom to love whom you wanted when it didn't affect themselves personally.

‘Queer’, Vegeta learned as they reached the site of the parade, was an umbrella term for people who didn't fit standard expectations in regards to love and sex. This included many different groups, all which were celebrated in the parade, and Vegeta found it difficult to keep track of them. He stayed in the back of the crowd, trying to keep a good distance from the rest of the onlookers who waved their rainbow flags in support of the parade's participants.

It took him a while before he realized that his wife had given her own rainbow flag to their daughter and was now holding a flag with stripes in pink, purple and blue. He was puzzled by this, wondering if there was a specific meaning of this particular flag. He wanted to ask her, but that meant he would have to venture back into the horde of supporters.

Only after a few minutes, his curiosity won out and he pushed past the rows of people who were between him and his family. He came to stand next to her, not touching her in spite of the close proximity to the humans around them. Luckily, these people appeared to know better than to touch Vegeta.

“What's with the flag?”

Bulma looked at him, surprised by his question. He usually didn't inquire about Earth’s customs that he didn't comprehend, but this was also because his wife seemed to have an innate ability to know what he was thinking. She looked at the flag in her hand that Vegeta nodded towards.

“Oh, this is a bisexual pride flag. It represents the bi community and bi people in general.”

“Hmm,” Vegeta hummed. He had heard of bisexuality, the attraction to both males and females. Raditz must've been bisexual, he mused. And as much as he hated to think about Bulma’s previous partners, he knew that she was bisexual as well. Her longest involvement before Vegeta had been with another, but she'd had brief flings with both sexes, as well as having been in an on-and-off- again relationship with the strange woman, Launch, who thankfully rarely showed her face anymore. It was bad enough that Vegeta had to be confronted with his wife's old boyfriend on a semi-regular basis; he wasn't sure if he could handle a past girlfriend too.

Without him needing to ask, Bulma began to list the meaning of each flag that passed them. He recognized a few and could guess a couple more by looking at the people waving these banners, but he enjoyed listening to Bulma speaking excitedly, their sleeping daughter now sleeping in her arms with the crumbled up Pride flag.

“Oooh, I think this might be something for you, honey,” she exclaimed a little too loud. He would never admit that he liked the nicknames she used for him, but even then, he hated when she did it in public.

Burying his embarrassment, he turned his seemingly unfeeling gaze to the parade where a bunch of people were waving a flag that contained a black triangle on the left pointing toward the center with three horizontal stripes that were white, purple, and gray. Its style was similar to some of the other flags, but he could see the difference.

“Why do you believe that this has anything to do with me? I am, what is commonly called, heterosexual,” he whispered, so no one could possibly hear it. He didn't like to discuss such things in public.

She looked at him, locking eyes with him, and he swore that she could look into his very soul.

“You once told me that you never felt a romantic or sexual attraction to anyone before we met,” she whispered back, showing respect for his wish for privacy. She spoke especially low as she knew that his saiyan hearing was far better than her own. “Well, demisexual, along with demiromantic, means that a person needs an emotional bond to feel attracted to another. Without it, there's no interest whatsoever in other people. I think it fits you pretty well. Like, if I chose to become a man, would it matter to you?”

“No,” he said without hesitation. Such things didn't matter to him. She mattered, not her gender.

“Well, there you go.” She smiled softly.

Vegeta turned his eyes back to the demisexuals passing by. He'd always thought that he was simply a typical heterosexual who just hadn't found the right person yet. He wasn't the type to believe in ‘the one’, a special someone made just for you, but he had wondered why Bulma was the only one he had felt anything for.

The truth of the matter was that he had never formed a proper emotional bond with anyone before he met her. Even Raditz and Nappa had been kept at a distance, mainly because they were lower than him in the hierarchy.

He'd always felt out of place in the Frieza Force. For many years back then, he'd suspected that he was asexual, but it hadn't felt true to how he felt and it had been outruled entirely after he'd gotten to know Bulma.

There was a certain kind of inner affirmation in the possibility that he might've been demisexual this whole time. And as he watched the happy faces of the unorthodox individuals passing by, he understood a little better why they were so proud of who they were.

#vegeta #demi vegeta #bisexual bulma #vegebul #pride parade #dbz fanfiction

[minnielvrr]

Hide and Seek🐰🐺

Lee: Channie

Ler: Lino

Word count: 569

Skz were playing hide and seek in their dorms with vocalracha seeking and the rest running to find a shelter. Minchan ended up having to share one hiding spot having been too busy pushing each other around and just generally messing around. After a while of staying hidden in the tight space of the closet that already barely contained the two grown men, Minho got bored. And that’s never a good thing for anyone stuck with him.

With innocent, oblivious Chan sitting between Minho’s legs with his back to the younger’s chest, it was all too easy to reach around the spaced-out leader to scratch at his clothed belly. Channie jerked in his hold, a giggle slipping out before his hand snapped up to cover his mouth to muffle his giggle while the other tugged and pushed at Minho’s hands in an effort to dislodge the evil fingers. Of course, having gotten a taste of Channie’s cute laughs, Minho didn’t let up, moving his hands outwards to scribble at Channie’s waist. The lee’s hands flew down, pressing Lino’s fingers to his sides and only making it tickle more.

“Lihihinoyahahaha,” Channie snickered under his breath, biting his lower lip to keep in his sounds. His breaths came out labored as Minho giggled softly in his ear, slowing his fingers until they were just tracing Chan’s sensitive waist. “Ihihit tihihihckles~ AH,” Channie yelped when Minho’s fingers slipped over an especially bad spot. “C’mon hyung, does this even count as tickling? I’m barely touching you,” Lino murmured into the older’s ears, loving how Chan cringed away as if even his breath tickled, the kangaroo’s ears getting warmer.

Bored with how the leader’s giggles tapered off into occasional puffs of air, the kitten changed spots again, aiming for his armpits. Chan yelped loudly, momentarily startling the kitten to pause before Lino picked his pace up again. Chan let out a harsh breath, tilting his head down and squeezing his arms to his sides in a vain attempt to stop the tickling. Minho kept at it, wiggling his fingers determinedly, enjoying how much the leader was suffering. His skin was sweaty and warm and Channie was barely breathing, sharp gasps escaping his lips as he squirmed left and right.

A sudden, unexpected sound gave them both pause, Chan feeling like his face was on fire, tears pricking the corners of his eyes in utter embarrassment. ”Was that… Did you just snort hyung?” Lino’s shock and amusement were clear in his voice as he leaned closer to Chan’s ear, “Is this reeeally bad for you hyungie? Did I tickle you so much you snorted? You have to keep quiet, y’know? We are playing hide and seek after all. Do you want us to get caught, hmm, hyung?” Lino’s incessant teasing had Channie scrambling to hide his flaming face, twisting around suddenly to bury his face in Minho’s neck and whining quietly. For all the teasing he dished out, Channie was way too shy to handle it when the favor was returned. Minho lightly tickled his hyung’s back for a while, blushing when Chan laughed softly in his ear.

Afterwards, Lino wrapped his arms around his only hyung and pulled him even closer, scratching at the back of his head to soothe the giggly boy. The peace didn’t last long however, when the closet door was yanked open by a smug Innie who dragged the two oldest out, laughing at the red faced Chan who refused to look up from his hiding place in Lino’s neck. Needless to say, they were the first to get caught.

#lee chan #ler minho #kpop tickle #kpop tickling #stray kids tickle #skz tickle #skz #stray kids #skz fanfic #stray kids fanfic #minnielvrr™

[anistarrose]

I want to talk about the way aromantic experiences can be represented in very meaningful and validating ways without characters being written as intentionally aro, and also I want to talk about aro-spec Magnus Burnsides headcanons. Luckily, I can do both those things in one post!

During the events of the podcast, Magnus is disinterested in and often straight-up uncomfortable with romance, because of the fate that befell his last relationship, with Julia. I've seen a reading (that I don't think is objectively wrong, though I do not personally share it) that interprets this trait of his as some kind of "sacrifice" he's making on Julia's behalf, being a choice to stay out of other relationships to carry on her memory better. It's a reading that seems pretty reasonable at first glance, but not especially aromantic.

(Because if anything, it almost seems at risk of turning into something like "there is no sacrifice more tragic than not having a romantic partner," right? Or worse, "this is a trauma response that needs to be healed for Magnus to have a happy ending, because being able to enjoy romance is vital to his happiness and self-fulfillment." Both of which are... varying levels of uncomfortable, to me as an aro person. Like, I'm not in the business of telling people how to interpret fictional characters, but I personally can't engage with these without a bad feeling in my stomach.)

However! Back to the various potential readings of Magnus's character! It's worth noting that so much of Magnus's arc revolves around unpacking his trauma, from the destruction of Raven's Roost and Julia's death — and that healing process doesn't change how he feels about romance! The Eleventh Hour is the turning point when he starts to seriously re-evaluate what the trauma and loss made him want, versus what Julia would want for him, and what would let him live in the moment instead of in the past... yet in the Heart Attack segment of Wonderland? Magnus still expresses disinterest in dating.

In Arms Outstretched, then Story and Song, he further internalizes and chooses to let himself be saved and ask for help, instead of punishing himself with martyrdom — and no romantic relationships come up in the epilogue! When he passes away after a long, happy life, it's Carey, — his best friend! — who holds his hand while they wait for the end!

Magnus's reasons for not wanting another relationship are obviously complex — not just a conclusion about himself that he came to lightly, regardless of whether he's on the aromantic spectrum, not on it at all, or deliberately not choosing a label. What makes his arc so unique and special to me, in contrast with almost every other story about traumatized characters finding a happy ending, is that his happy ending isn't contingent on romance! Whenever he says that he's that not into dating, no one doubts him or tries to undermine him (other than Lydia, who's literally trying to feed on his suffering), and to me, an aro listener...

Well, the way the narrative takes Magnus's wants and lack thereof seriously is just so refreshing.

Ninety percent of characters in fiction who repeatedly stress that they don't want romance or marriage are only shown doing so to set up for the narrative later proving them wrong. It's to contrast with that later point in the story where they "find the right person," or "understand when they're older." Or "stop being so cold," or "stop acting like they're too fucked-up and 'damaged'." Or "overcome their trauma."

It has an air of "wow, isn't this character so ridiculous, for thinking they won't change their mind later?" Or occasionally, "isn't it so tragic, that they can't envision themselves being loved?"

For protagonist-y characters, for heroic characters like Magnus — for any type of character in which "happily ever after" is considered a plausible, fair-game, genre-acceptable outcome — we see the genre conventions also dictate that "settling down in a romance" and the "happy ending" are intertwined. I've seen TAZ posts from back in the era of The Suffering Game/The Stolen Century airing, expressing sentiments like "Magnus not finding someone to love again would be so tragic and mean-spirited, I hate grim and edgy endings like that." While I can appreciate people trying to subvert tropes like "you can only have one 'true love' in all your life," the incredibly non-subversive and ultra-amatonormative belief that "romance is a prerequisite for a happy ending, or even healing arc" is such a deeply unfortunate one to tag on.

I am aromantic. I don't want a romantic relationship. And I find joy in that! I refuse to accept that I need to be "fixed" or "healed" to live a long, happy life, because I'm not broken! What brings me the most joy beyond just living as an aro is seeing stories actually acknowledge that people can find this happiness without romance — like how Magnus's story does! Like how casually and matter-of-factly it subverts expectations — how Magnus says he doesn't want another relationship, and no one comes along to prove him wrong! He doesn't "find the right person" because at this particular phase of his life, and of how he wants to live, there isn't one in a romantic context!

He heals from his trauma enough to find all kinds of joy — doing things he loves, surrounded by people he loves — and not because of, or in service of pursuing, a romantic relationship!

I almost never see fantasy stories where one of the heroes gets to have an arc like that. An arc where they get to live out an ending that I would want. A happy ending that would be happy for me! For people like me!

Magnus Burnsides gives me so much Aromantic Hope. That this is a kind of happy ending that I am not the only one to idealize, and that I could attain, no matter what horrors are being thrown at me in the present. Magnus dies peacefully, after years of assuming that he wouldn't, and he does so surrounded by his dearest friends and family. Who are all so proud of the life that he lived. Magnus was true to himself, to what he felt would bring him healing and fulfillment — instead of what cliché and expectation dictated to him — and he was completely at peace in the end. Ready to rush in one final time.

I immensely doubt that Travis intended for Magnus's to be an aromantic story in those words, if at all. But Magnus's story resonates so, so much with so many common aromantic experiences. And that means so much to me. I'm so grateful for that. In this day and age, in this world, I needed that.

I needed to have a good long cry about Magnus Burnsides. Aromantic icon, intentional or not.

...

...Of course, because this is tumblr, I want to make a clarification. This isn't some kind of claim like "shipping Magnus with people other than Julia is problematic." It is, however, a thesis statement that "no such ship becoming canon makes Magnus's arc so much more unique." It's an explanation giving full context to how I'm biased, not objective, but willing to argue that it makes his arc so much more meaningful, too.

And most of all, it's a desire to shine a light on a side of Magnus's character and growth that I think goes underdiscussed. Especially underdiscussed through an aro-spec lens. And speaking of which:

Sure I said I don't think Magnus was intended as an aro-spec character, or that he can only be interpreted as such — but if you made it this far, you know I think this ruff boi's just chock full of aro-spec subtext! So just for fun — and because the world is always deserving of more aro-spec headcanons — let's end this post playing with some different readings of him as aro-spec!

Gray-Aro or Demiromantic Magnus who rarely falls for people to begin with. Why would it be some tragic heroic sacrifice to remain "chaste" and wait for Julia, when not being into romance is just Magnus's default state of being? He's so confused about why people think he's making some tragic sacrifice! So confused, guys! I even wrote a fic about the gray-aro HC a few months ago (link)!

Gray-Aro or Demi Magnus who thought he was just aromantic, no attraction whatsoever, for over a century — until he met Julia, and fell for her (perhaps very, very slowly). But that doesn't change those years gaining perspective as a platonically, familialy loving aro who values those bonds immensely, and always wanted them to remain a prominent part of his life.

Losing Julia devastates him, of course it does — but especially once he remembers the Stolen Century, he knows he has a long-term support system no matter what, and it won't revolve around chasing that unlikely possibility of feeling romantic love again. Why would it? Why would he need to chase something so fickle just to heal?

Aromantic Magnus who feels no romantic attraction, but in the era of Raven's Roost, doesn't not want a romantic relationship. Except, he doesn't after all. Except wait, he kinda does, it's just complicated. Maybe something queerplatonic? Well, he really likes the idea of a wedding, and that's not necessarily mutually exclusive, but there's no guarantee his partner would feel that way too, and...

There's just these expectations that go with dating or marriage, of partners expecting him to love them in such a specific way that he knows he can't... and then he meets Julia, who's a romance-seeking aromantic too, with heavily overlapping feelings. Bonding over their similarities leads to dating, and eventually marrying, over a deep platonic love that may or may not still involve cuddles or kisses, or a desire to start a family. They don't panic too much over the labels — they're just so delighted to be with someone on the same wavelength!

When Julia dies, so much goes through Magnus's head. After a while, he can't help but start thinking again about how rare it is for people to want the same things out of a relationship that he does. Or to consider the way he feels for them to be enough. But as time passes, Magnus comes to terms with it more and more. He's happy to wait for Julia again. After all, he's longing, but not lonely. Mourning, but not incomplete.

Aromantic Magnus who is aromantic specifically because of his trauma, but no less aromantic for it. He just can't bear the thought of getting into a relationship again. Ironically, there's a point in time where he thought of himself as a romantic — back while he and Julia were courting each other — that now feels simultaneously so close and so distant. Magnus who has so much to grieve, and grieves this romantic side of him too — at first. Who thinks that there's only two options, for a folk hero in a story like his — settling down to live happily ever after, or dying in battle. And if there's nothing more upsetting, more uncomfortable, than getting married again — then living happily ever after has got to be off the table, right?

Magnus who slowly realizes that doesn't have to be the case. That no, barring seeing Julia again, he certainly doesn't have reason to believe that even time will change this new, alienating part of him — but maybe, it's not so alien after all. Maybe he knows people who won't even question it. Maybe he doesn't have to change it or overcome it to be happy again.

Why is romance some singular thing he has to chase, in order to settle down peacefully again? Why can't he do it with his friends? With his dogs?

And last, Questioning Magnus who might be aro, who might not be aro, and is maybe most likely to be something in between. But it's hard to tell; he's honestly not sure if he'll ever crack it, and.. ultimately, he's okay with that. Because all that matters to him is knowing he doesn't need a relationship to be complete, to take full advantage of his well-earned happy ending — and he's got a great grasp on that one, surrounded by people who never make him doubt it.

Aromantic Magnus Burnsides. Aro-Spec Magnus Burnsides. My aromantically beloved. Thanks, bud, for all the hope when I needed it.

#taz #taz balance #taz balance spoilers #magnus burnsides #aspec taz #taz meta #long post