#❤️[Out of Body]

[qualityrain]

shes my collar (i’m the one that put it there)

[hetaari]

Speaking of Switzerland. You Should Look At Him Now.

[the-broken-pen]

“You’re going to blow out your arms,” the villain observed. They watched as the hero merely grit their teeth, shoving themself through another pull-up. It looked painful, and if the sweat slicking the hero’s brow was any indication, it was.

They waited for the hero to let themself drop from the bar and accept the villain was stronger. But they didn’t.

Three more pull-ups, and the villain stepped in.

“Hero,” they said slowly. “You’re about to tear the ligaments in your arms. You need to stop.”

The hero blew out a shuddering breath. Struggled for purchase, fighting gravity—and let themself drop.

The hero’s hands were bleeding, calluses torn open by the bar. The hero didn’t seem bothered when their own hands shook so much that their blood began to splatter on the gym floor.

For a moment, the villain could only stare at them.

Shit.

They didn’t know how to handle this. They knew the hero was dedicated. They knew the hero was strong, and perpetually trying to be stronger, but they hadn’t thought…

They hadn’t thought the hero would be so willing to tear apart their own body for success.

It was supposed to be fun, the villain thought. They felt a little sick as the hero pressed their palms together to soothe the bleeding, an action that was practiced and familiar. As if they had done this before.

The hero reached for something in their bag, smearing blood on the side, and pulled out a roll of blue electrical tape. The villain didn’t understand why, until the hero tore a strip off and made to wrap their hands with it.

The hero would be the death of them.

They crouched in front of the hero, plucking the electrical tape out of their hands.

“What are you doing with this?”

The hero blinked at the villain like they were the strange one in this situation.

“Wrapping my hands?”

The villain hissed in a breath.

“With electrical tape?”

The hero flushed slightly, looking down at their bloody hands. They looked close to tears.

“It…sticks to skin, really well. And it doesn’t move, either, when you move your hands or wherever else, even if you’re fighting. Plus, blood doesn’t make it come off, at least, not for a while.”

The villain blinked at them.”

“Blood doesn’t make it come off,” the villain repeated, processing. The hero nodded, reaching for the electrical tape. The villain settled it out of reach.

“Not if you wrap it right.”

Dimly, the villain realized that meant the hero had done this enough times to have it down to a science.

“And you couldn’t use a bandaid?” The villain asked incredulously. The hero shrugged a shoulder, then winced at the motion.

Yeah, the hero had absolutely blown out their arms.

“Bandaids move—“

The villain hushed them.

“Be quiet for a second.”

The hero, wisely, went quiet.

The villain rubbed a hand over their face, then studied the hero for a moment. They took one of the hero’s hands into their own, studying the damage.

“Why did you do this to yourself,” the villain murmured.

“What do you mean, why,” the hero snapped. “It’s my job.”

“Your job is to save people,” the villain corrected. “Not destroy yourself.”

“I’m not destroying myself—“

“You are.”

“Shut up—“

“Hero.”

“I need to be better,” the hero snapped. Their voice rang out across the gym, echoing into the rafters, and they both froze. After a moment, the hero spoke again, voice soft. “I need to be better.”

They said it like they needed the villain to understand. The villain wondered who they were really saying it to—the villain, or themself.

“Better than who?”

“Everyone.” It was hushed, like a secret.

The villain watched them, waiting.

The hero took a shaky breath

“My whole thing is being the best. I have always been the best. That’s the only reason I matter. If I’m not strong enough, then I am nothing, so I need. to be. better.”

The hero had started crying, very quietly, like they were afraid to take up too much space.

The villain was not equipped to handle gifted kid burnout.

“There’s more to you than just being a good athlete,” the villain said hesitantly, and the hero shook their head.

“No. There isn’t.”

“Hero.”

“Can you give me back my electrical tape?” They hiccuped to contain a sob.

“No,” the villain said firmly, and then the hero really was sobbing.

“You don’t understand—“

The villain didn’t. Not really. They had never been the kind of talented that the hero was.

They wondered now if maybe that was a blessing.

“I don’t,” the villain agreed. “But I do understand that you’ve saved half the city, and you give everything you have to give, and you always do your best.”

“But I-“

“No.” The villain stopped them. “You are doing your best.” They tipped the hero’s chin up until they met the villain’s eyes. “And it is enough.”

The hero froze, eyes darting over the villain’s face. They wondered if anyone had ever said that to the hero, if whatever mentor they had was giving them anything other than orders to be stronger. Be better. Be more.

The villain had some new targets to take care of, it would seem.

For now, though, they had to take care of hero.

“We’re going to go wrap your hands,” they said softly. “And then we’re going to take care of your arms, and you’re going to take a nap.”

The hero nodded, watching them like they were some kind of good, selfless person.

“And if I ever catch you using electrical tape again, so help me, I will put you six feet under.”

That startled a laugh out of the hero, and they let the villain guide them to their feet.

“Fine.”

The villain turned to them. “Okay?”

Are you going to be alright?

The hero seemed to understand.

“Okay,” the hero agreed.

Yes.

And so, it was.

[0m3n-0f-d3ath]

Gods favorite little idiot

(This is a bad thing)

[candyheartedchy]

Doodles based on the one intro scene and the reveal.

[timetravelstudies]

This got long and annoying so its under a cut now

The way in the fight w the museum director insul gets the same big injuries he has given trianon (so far), aand particularly the ones that T thinks back on often as specific sources of fear/humiliation/control (pepper sprayed in the eyes; kicked in the balls; choked with smth small and thin ((wire / car window)))….. im too tired to formulate a proper Thought abt this but the fact this all happens right in front of tjat one painting of dante & virgil in hell + insul and the director are in the exact same pose right as insul is about to die* is obviously so meant to evoke the idea of contrappasso….. at this stage trianon isnt “””strong””” enough (doesnt understand Insul enough and most importantly doesnt fully inhabit himself and his own strengths) to be able to pay back Insul’s violence (as he does later, though not in such a literal way anymore) so tje director will do for now🥰 bc they both need to descend into hell they both need to be subject to physical and psychological violence in order to strip down layers……. so its cool how the director serves that purpose for this phase 1 both in story for insul himself (who eats shit in this fight) and also as a sort of alert for the reader like make no mistake they are BOTH gonna get put thru the ringer. even the top has to wade through cocytus! or smth

[sillysillyparty]

big fan of how delusional the saw fandom is

[ciderjacks]

wait oh my god the chilchuck professional disordered eating is canon, I thought people were just committing like. micro aggressions against half foots.

[torchickentacos]

I'm reading poetry at 1 am and spiraling over like 45 emotions at once, which is how poetry was meant to be enjoyed, I think

[mo-ok]

top 10 sentai blacks yes its important that Junichi Haruta is here twice

[foxbirdy]

I miss being a single father of my hooligans with chainsaws 🚬

[flugame-mp3]

the idea of summer got so much more freeing when i realized i can wear whatever i want. like i can be trans and wear a v-cut flower print bikini. i can be trans and wear board shorts and a t shirt. i can be naturally hairy, or i can trim, or i can shave it all off. literally it doesn't matter. do whatever you want forever. happy summer everybody

[cosmikirby]

Happy Mad Rat Monday!!!❤️🐀🎩‼️‼️

This week i drew the official pin designs for good luck in actually trying to buy them🎉🎉 (and because I've always wanted to redraw them anyway haha)

[writersmorgue]

Angst Drabble

(Read at your own risk: major character death, blood, gore, hurt no comfort)

read on AO3

-

Katsuki wheezes, the cold winter air burning his lungs while he sprints as fast as his fractured knee will allow.

What’s waiting for him on the other side of the tall, vacant office building is no doubt worse than the pain he’s feeling now.

Dunce face had been snatched from right under his nose during their battle, literally.

One second he’s trying to clean the idiot’s slashed abdomen while they take a short pause in an alleyway during a siege, the next some bat-looking humanoid extra swoops down and yanks his flailing body into the air.

He watched, quirk refusing to work from how dry the air and how exhausted his body was, as the figure carrying his friend as he flailed in the talons climbed higher and higher into the sky.

What the fuck even is that thing. It’s not what they’d been looking for, nothing about Dracula wannabes on the comms.

Nothing that could prepare Katsuki for his failure to protect his friend. Nothing to blame on anyone.

But his wrath did nothing to stop those talons from retracting, from flesh to be ripped from his friend’s sides, and for him to plummet from the sky.

Denki’s sharp yell abruptly stopped after only a few seconds.

A small pop tells Katsuki if he could use his quirk it would be going ballistic. His hands feel like they could split in half, and even the smallest explosion is agonizing.

He skids around the corner of the building, nearly tripping over his feet as his body tilts at some impossible angle.

And when he sees his friend, crumpled into the ground, he does fall.

The last few yards he runs half on his feet and half falling over his hands.

His friend’s yellow hair is completely stained brown, and the red of the blood seeps down onto his dirt-speckled forehead.

His legs are pulverized, telling Katsuki he was unlucky enough to have landed feet first.

Denki’s eyes are glassy, practically vibrating in his head as he tries to look over at Katsuki.

He moved toward him, trying to make it easier.

The guy’s hand is shaking as he tries to move it, first down to his hip, then when he feels the bone clearly sticking out, he lets it fall back to the pavement.

There are bits of flesh and blood around a six-foot radius from them, and Katsuki doesn’t know how his back must look, but he’s surprised he can move at all.

Katsuki leans down, laying a hand on Denki’s chest.

“Hey, you’re going to be okay.”

The panic button has been pressed on Katsuki’s suit, and Denki’s was as soon as his vitals were fucked up on impact he’s sure.

An ambulance will be coming soon.

But they both know that’s not what he means.

“I… can’t see.” Denki rasps, small specs of blood spraying onto his chin as he speaks.

“Just listen to my voice, it’s going to be over soon, Denki. You did so good.”

Katsuki wills his voice to calm, to stop wavering. He wants the last thing his friend hears to be as strong and capable as he was.

It’s what he deserves, damnit. After you failed.

“I know, Kat. I’m… it’s coming I c-can feel it.” He sighs, blood dripping from his nose down his cheeks.

Katsuki rips his glove off and brings his hand up to brush a pink tear away from his fluttering yellow eyes.

Denki hums, the straining muscles in his neck relaxing slightly.

“Kat, I don’t want… ev’ryone t’ worry. So-“ his lungs rattle deep in his chest, “I die on ‘mpact.” Chest heaving, every word looks like it feels like hitting the ground again, “‘Kay?”

Katsuki blinks heavily, willing himself to keep his focus on Denki but the weight of the situation is pulling him somewhere deep in himself.

“Yeah.” He rasps, looking into Denki’s sightless eyes one last time as his friend smiles and lets them close, calmed by his answer.

“You were gone when I got here, Denks.”

Denki sighs again, nuzzling into the ground as if it were the soft bed of grass on the hill outside Heights Alliance that their friends would so often catch him sleeping on in the spring.

Like it’s Eijirou’s bed on game nights when he was too lazy to go back to his own.

Like it’s the last time he’ll ever sleep.

“Didn’t feel a thing.” His words barely a whisper on his last exhale, but Katsuki hears them clear as day.

And when the ambulance gets there, and Hanta and Mina fall to the ground in hysterics, Katsuki will tell them that it’s okay.

Denki died on impact. He didn’t feel a thing.

[femme-ftm]

Concept (based on my own experience):

They don't try to talk you out of T, but they tell you they find it easier to suck your dick when the area is shaved, and you accidentally miss your scheduled shot because shaving takes so long (getting distracted by dysphoria, fingering yourself, humping the showerhead etc) and you just forgot to check the time...

ohh that's so sneaky! i don't take mine as shots but it certainly wouldn't be hard to distract me from my schedule anyway until it's just easier for me to skip a day instead of taking T way too late ❤️ finding activities that cause schedule conflicts, that being shaving at least once a week because i feel so good when my pussy is smooth and it's easier to shave it regularly too, and them helping me out to "make it faster and easier", but somehow it always ends with their fingers deep in me fucking me to who knows how manieth orgasm, my T sitting forgotten on my shelf yet again ❤️

[smartzelda]

Me: "Wow what a perfectly normal art posting of characters hanging out in a platonic manner. I love it! It's so cute. I'm going to reblog–"

The caption: They are the siblings. The. Siblings. The sibs. The siblings. The siblings of ALL TIME. The most absolute siblings of all time.

[Insert ben affleck smoking gif here] "...You do you but. Never mind."