#Am I so used to the fact that I’ve masked up my identity | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

beestriker015 · 8 months ago

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Black Cat x male hero s/o

Being one of the several superheroes other than Spider-Man residing in New York, it was only a matter of time that s/o had a run in with Felicia Hardy, also known as Black Cat, which he did during one of his patrols.

“Oh? And here I was expecting the Spider to swing in and spoil my fun as always.”

She says after encountering s/o on a rooftop after her latest heist.

“Well you’ve got me instead, I hope you’re not too disappointed.”

“Far from it. In fact, I’m liking what I’m seeing.”

The feline themed cat burglar responds in a flirtatious tone while taking her sweet time eying the hero up.

“Really now? That makes two of us. You know, I’ve always been kind of a cat person.”

He flirts back as Felicia feels her face heat up slightly, much to her slight surprise.

“Oh I like you. Now let’s see if you can keep up hero.”

She then flees as s/o does his best to keep up before he eventually loses track of her.

“Darn it! I lost her! She may have gotten away this time, but something tells me I’ll be seeing her again, or at least….I hope so.”

Over the next few weeks, s/o and Felica kept running into each other, whether it’s intentional or not, and soon an attraction begins to grow between them.

“I must be out of my mind. How can I be developing feelings for her? Granted she’s not evil or anything like that, but she’s still technically a villain, and I shouldn’t be thinking about her this way. Oh jeez, what am I gonna do?”

Meanwhile, Felicia is much more accepting of her growing feelings for s/o.

“I haven’t felt this way about anyone before, and I can tell he feels the same, so it’s time for this kitty to sink her claws into a certain hero.”

She thinks to herself with a smirk while coming up with a plan.

Later on, Black Cat is met by s/o during another outing (which she planned with the sole intention of catching the hero’s attention) and quickly gets to work.

“Well well well, there’s my favorite hero, looking as handsome as ever. With how often we’ve been seeing each other, you really know how to make a girl feel special. Now it’s my turn to return the favor.”

Before he could react, s/o is pulled into a deep kiss and quickly sinks into it, thus sparking a romantic relationship between him and Felicia.

Despite now being a couple, it took awhile before the two decided to reveal their civilian identities to each other, but when they finally did, it brought them closer as a result.

“So you’re the man behind the mask huh?”

“Yep. My name is s/o.”

“I’m Felicia. Felicia Hardy.”

“Felicia….a pretty name for an even prettier face.”

He says as she can’t help but blush.

“Thanks. You’re not at all bad yourself handsome. Why, I have to refrain myself from pouncing on you right this second.

Now it’s s/o’s turn to blush.

“God, I love you Felicia.”

She looks at him in shock before smiling widely.

“I love you too s/o.”

After saying those three special words for the first time, the two share a passionate kiss and embrace.

Now being in a serious relationship, s/o and Black Cat always have each other’s back despite being a hero and a villain respectively.

Dating a superhero has caused Felicia to gradually become more of a vigilante, helping her boyfriend fight villains if she can.

“We make a great team don’t we?”

“I think so too, and watching my strong handsome boyfriend take down bad guys makes this kitty purr if you know what I mean.”

“I can say the same about you beautiful.”

Even after dating for quite some time, s/o and Felicia never stop flirting with each other, often leading to spontaneous make out sessions.

As far as jealousy goes, there really isn’t any to speak of.

S/o and Black Cat are so enamored with each other that they both know there’s nothing to worry about in terms of other women/men, even taking into consideration Felicia’s flirty nature.

(If s/o ever did get bothered by his girlfriend’s meaningless flirting, she would definitely tone it down for him.)

Dates with these two can literally be anything, but their favorite thing to do is stay at home (whether it be Felicia’s apartment or where s/o lives) and watch movies together on the couch.

“This is nice, after fighting villains all week, it’s safe to say we needed this.”

“Yep, especially because I get you all to myself s/o.”

She tells him sweetly while cuddling up next to him and resting her head on his shoulder.

Because both of them are friends with Peter Parker, aka Spider-Man, it’s not uncommon for s/o and Felicia to mix things up by having a double date with him and MJ.

“Dinner was great as always, but I insist that I split the bill with you Peter.”

“You sure s/o?”

“Of course! You and MJ were kind enough to invite us to come here with you, so it’s the least I can do to thank you both.”

“What a gentleman. You got yourself a good one Felicia.”

Mary Jane tells the white haired girl, who smiles in response.

“That I do MJ, that I do.”

Should a villain ever seriously injure s/o, they’ll soon face the wrath of a very pissed off Black Cat.

“Hurting my man wasn’t very bright, so now the claws come out. They say a cat has nine lives, so let’s see how many you have!”

Luckily Spider-Man was there to stop her from doing something she’d regret.

“Cat, you don’t wanna do this! Do you think s/o would be ok with what you were about to do?”

Upon hearing the mention of her boyfriend, Felicia calms down a little and focuses on getting s/o some medical attention as Peter deals with the villain.

After s/o fully recovers, Felicia will become slightly clingy for a while.

“That scumbag was lucky Peter stopped me, because I was this close to using him as my personal scratching post, and let me tell you, this cat has some really sharp claws.”

She says with a pout while holding him tightly to her chest.

“I didn’t know my pretty kitty was so protective.”

“What can I say? I’m the type of girl who doesn’t appreciate someone messing with what’s hers.”

“Oh so I’m yours huh?”

He asks her teasingly, making his girlfriend chuckle.

“Yep, but you already knew that.”

“True, though you know that means your mine right?”

Felicia smirks in response and whispers breathily into her boyfriend’s ear.

“Oh believe me, I do. This kitty is all yours s/o.”

And just like that, things proceed to get a bit…….spicy between the two.

Nearly three years after they began dating, s/o decides it’s finally time to pop the question, and he does so after bringing Felicia to the very same rooftop where they first met.

“This place sure brings back a lot of memories doesn’t it?”

“Uh-huh, it’s where a certain handsome hero came into my life that I feel in love with. I’m so happy to have met you that night s/o.”

“I feel the same way Felicia, which is why I want us to be together for the rest of our lives. Felicia Hardy, will you marry me?”

He asks his girlfriend after getting on one knee while showing her an absolutely beautiful ring.

“I was hoping you were gonna do this at some point, because if not, I was gonna propose myself! Yes, of course I’ll marry you s/o!

She pulls him into a passionate kiss after he slips the ring on, the beautiful white haired (former) cat themed thief looking forward to having her hero boyfriend as her hero husband.

#marvel #marvel x reader #marvel x male reader #black cat #black cat x reader #black cat x male reader #felicia hardy #felicia hardy x reader #felicia hardy x male reader #male reader #spiderman #marvel black cat #marvel comics

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ravenna-reid · 1 year ago

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Your Demons Know Mine (Part Two)

Jason Todd x fem!reader

Part One - Mentions of violence and some of Jason's trauma

“We got the files you needed, I don’t understand what the problem is –”

You were cut off by a stern voice. You’d never heard Batman so livid, and it was a cold sort of anger that you weren’t used to. It made you and Red fall silent.

“How many times am I going to have to discuss your antics with you Hood?”

Nightwing, who you assumed was the one to contact Batman, stood before you now alongside Red Robin, the pair of them quietly watching this argument unfold.

You wanted to cast a glance over at Red. The anger was practically radiating off of his suit. “Almost beating a man half to death? Again?”

“You weren’t there! The prick had it coming!” Jason snapped back, his voice full of emotion now that his helmet was off and all he had was that domino mask.

Batman merely scoffed at Jason in response. “That’s no excuse! You were all given one clear rule-”

“We fight crime, shits gonna get ugly sometimes! Yet you act like you’ve never hit someone that hard before!” Jason took a step closer to Batman as he yelled.

I've never seen you hit Joker that hard, and you hate him.

The words Jason uttered to Bruce so long ago simmered in the back of his mind. Back when he was bloody and bruised at the hands of his own ‘father.’

Batman stood, rigid and full of rage before his demeanour suddenly seemed to change. His body language telling you his attention had turned to you.

“[Vigilante name].”

You wanted to grimace.

“How did you gain access to that room so quickly? How did you know the pin?”

Soon enough, everyone’s eyes settled onto you.

Oh hell no. The last thing you expected after this shitty night was to be at the centre of the conflict. You did not think Batman and his little soldiers would end up interrogating you.

You kept your arms crossed against your body, your glare meeting everyones before falling back onto Batman.

“What?”

“The. Pin. How did you attain it?”

You fought the urge to fiddle with the knuckle duster that still sat on your hand. Fought the urge to shift your feet on the ground. You felt Red turn to look at you too.

You nonchalantly shrugged. “I don’t just work for you. I have my own cases too, and I’ve been investigating here and there.”

Nightwing and Red Robin’s line of sight switched from you back to the Dark Knight, but both he and Hood seemed unconvinced.

Tension settled over the room like a weighted blanket. Still, you held your stance. Held eye contact even though all you were staring back at was a bat-like cowl with white casing over the eyes.

“You work for them, don’t you?”

Batman’s words sounded more like a statement rather than a question, and it made your skin crawl. How long did you really think you could hide your identity from the Bat? Nevertheless, the breach of privacy made anger ring like alarm bells in your head. Especially given one of the rules Batman laid upon you when he first met you; never try to discover anyone’s secret identity. Ironic.

“What do you mean? Why would I bring back these files if I were working for the bad guys?” You spat back, clearly becoming defensive.

Batman responded coolly, “I never said you were working for the ‘bad guys.’

You swallowed hard, and it no doubt went unnoticed by the two stupid detectives standing before you. Your glare snapped over to Red Robin, but he seemed a little sympathetic. Like he was pitying you for what was about to go down.

“The use of potassium? Your tendency to use chemicals instead of weapons when on patrol? There have been signs for a while.”

Now, you shifted on your feet. Whether it was because you were slowly becoming nervous or weary, you couldn’t tell. The only thought that brought you peace of mind was the fact that it seemed they still didn’t know your identity. Just where you worked.

You supposed you could live with that.

Batman continued, assuming he was indeed right.

“If that’s the case, our best bet is to have you work undercover.”

Your brows knitted together. “What do you mean?” You said once again.

“We’ll try and gain access to the security cameras. Give you advanced contact lens’ so we can see what you see when you go into work.”

Your guard dropped and instantly you were glowering at him. “Come again?”

This time, Nightwing responded. “It would help with the case [vigilante name].” He reasoned oh so diplomatically. “We could get inside intel and more.”

“We can’t let this get any worse.” Batman interjected, adding onto what Nightwing said.

Your mouth was agape as you stared at them both. “So you want me to willingly give away my identity?” You asked, astounded.

Jason’s gaze hung onto you, taking in the betrayal that made its way into your expression.

“No one would use it against you.” Nightwing said calmly.

“No, but you would all go along with your day feeling safe behind your masks and I would be exposed. That’s not fair.”

“This is for the safety of others.” Batman’s voice grew stern again. “It’s not about you.”

You scoffed before stepping back, and it almost sounded like a bitter laugh.

You couldn’t believe it. But a part of you also wasn’t so surprised either. Of course they didn’t trust you enough to allow you to keep your secret identity, just as they were keeping theirs. Of course they were acting like there would be no other way to crack this case and bring these people down. You would apparently have to reveal who you really were so that they could discover what your company was planning. And now all four bats were watching and waiting for you to remove your mask. You shook your head, heavy with disappointment.

All you wanted was to be defended, to have someone have your back just once –

“You can’t ask her to do that.”

Your head immediately snapped to look over at Red. He was standing tall, his body language sure as he spoke those seven words to Batman and Nightwing.

“Hood, stay out of –”

“No. That’s bullshit. We can do this without her removing the mask. We’ve done it a million times before.”

Those standing before them looked befuddled, and Red knew Bruce was probably swimming in rage at the fact that he was shitting all over his plan, but Jason didn’t care. In fact, the thought of it kinda made Jason happy.

Red Hood turned to face you, dark hair falling above his eyes and demons apparently rid from his mind. He was his old self again. His usual self, but then again not so much. He was being…sweet?

“You go to work, snoop around. Find out what you can and report back to us.”

You gave a curt nod in return, grateful to have him sticking up for you.

You quickly ignored that warmth that was beginning to spread through your chest and turned your gaze back onto the Bat.

“So?” You asked, eager to see if Batman would agree with Red’s proposition.

Bruce wasn’t happy, but he let it go. “Fine, get as much information as you can. We’ll discuss your encounter with that guard later.” He said to Red before leaving the cave.

And you did the same.

Jason watched as you instantly turned on your heel and headed towards your motorbike. Instinct told him to reach out to you. Ask you to wait a second. But he let you go.

It was late. Later than you usually stayed out on patrol. But you were high on agitation and adrenaline, and you wanted to get it out of your system. The cold Gotham breeze brushed through your hair and against your skin, carrying the scent of rain. You sat atop one of the tallest buildings in Gotham, tilting your head back to look up at the cloud riddled sky. Maybe you’d be forced to go back to your apartment by the rain. You let out another annoyed sigh, flipping your dagger around in your hand before launching to your feet.

You’d heard the footsteps from a mile away, and now they were close enough for you to confront them. The odds of it being a criminal or thug was low. You were expecting one of the men from the lab, maybe, but you were also expecting to see Nightiwng come and play devil’s advocate with you.

Instead, you were met with another one of those bright, red helmets.

“Someone’s a little tense.” He quipped as he still his movements so you realised he wasn’t a threat. He didn’t come to fight this time.

You lowered the hand that held your dagger before easily slipping it back into its sheath.

“You have a shelf full of those helmets?” You asked, nodding towards it.

You couldn't see it, but he was smiling. “Yeah, I got Batman to make about a dozen of them. Him being rich and all.”

Red walked across the rooftop, mirroring your movements as you began to slowly circle him.

“I wouldn’t know how rich he is, I don’t go around trying to discover everyone’s identity.” Bitterness laced your tone, but Jason could understand why.

“That’s just Bru- Batman.” He cleared his throat. “He’s paranoia and distrust incarnate.”

“Tell me about it.” You muttered, your eyes gazing back out to the skyline and city lights.

Something turned in your stomach, fluttered in your chest. “Thanks for standing up for me. I really didn’t want to blur the lines between my patrol life and work life.”

Red nodded, “Yeah…it’s fine. I get that.”

Fuck, now what was he supposed to say? He was too hung up on the fact that you had thanked him to think of a way to carry the conversation.

You both stood in silence, watching the city life below before you eventually side-eyed him. “So…how are you holding up?”

With the way he looked back at you, you just knew he had an eyebrow raised.

Not knowing how to bring it up, you had your dagger in your hand again as it turned between your gloved fingers. “The crowbar?” Your voice was quiet.

Oh, that.

Red faced away from you. “Yeah..” He moved his large arms as if to stretch them before eventually turning to face you again. “It was nothing.”

A part of you was so horrendously curious as to why the brash and fearless Red Hood buckled when he saw a crowbar, but you weren’t going to urge him. Push him to reveal something he so clearly didn’t want to acknowledge.

You shrugged. “We all have something we would rather not face.” With the cool breeze picking up you crossed over arms over your body.

Jason didn’t miss the affliction in your eyes as you stared out at that morbid city.

“You?” He asked, his body ever so slightly inching closer towards yours.

You looked back at him before looking down at his thighs. “Yeah, those things.” You said.

He looked down at the guns strapped to him.

Something ate away at Jason once he realised.

So he was using the one thing you couldn’t stand?

His main weapon was your crowbar…

“That why you would rather give people nerve damage with your chemicals?”

You rolled your eyes. “Don’t even Red.”

He gave a light snicker and it immediately made your head spin.

No, this was not how you two were supposed to interact with each other.

You eagerly ignored that feeling in your chest. “Well, I have work to do tomorrow. Chemical testing, snooping, etc, etc.”

Jason caught the hint it was time to go your separate ways and call it a night.

“Mm, come back to us with some intel and you might be able to earn some trust Dr.”

You narrowed your eyes at him but a smirk dusted your face at the mention of his new nickname for you. It started out just being shithead, then he referred to you as a fox.

‘Sly as a fox.’

Sometimes he’d call you alchemist, but now it was Dr.

You flicked your hand at him as if you were swatting away a fly. “Yeah, yeah, cause that’s what I aim for in life. Earning the Bats trust.”

And in a blink of an eye, you had dropped down off of the rooftop.

Now it was just Jason, the wind and car horns from down below.

He drew in a deep breath, letting the coldness fill his chest as he thought about how your ‘friendship’ had taken such a turn.

But as Jason romanticised what could be, you couldn't help but feel you needed to re-drive a rift between this growing friendship. Not because you disliked what was slowly growing between you two, it actually made you a little giddy...but that was the problem.

lmk what ya'll think cause I might make this a series :)

#jason todd #jason todd imagine #jason todd x reader #jason todd x y/n #jason todd x you #jason todd x fem!reader #red hood angst #red hood imagine #red hood x reader #red hood #red hood x fem!reader #red robin #nightwing #batman #dc comics #dc universe #dcu #angst #jason todd angst

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hearts4werka · 10 months ago

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The Devil Herself

Summary: You’re the famous Ghostface killer in the town of Boston while your ex-bodyguard Christopher is also an FBI agent investigating your murders, you overhear his conversation with his mother about a set up date with another woman so you decide to pay the woman a little visit after the date… Genre: Horror, slasher, age gap (it’s not a big one), female killer, obsessive stalker, crime investigation, The FBI, arranged date Warnings: This fic contains darker themes that may trigger some readers like gore, kidnapping, acts of torture, illegal possession of various of dangerous weapons ( don’t do this irl ) obsessive female!character, cursing, murder, detaching-limbs. Read At Your Own Risk! authors note: this turned out wayyy longer than I expected it to. I started to write this last night still kinda shocked how I finished it in one day. I’m already writing pt.2 to Missing and need to finish that but here’s a long Chris fic for while you guys wait for it. There might be a pt.2 to this too but I have to see if y’all will want one. Hope you enjoy!

— ˗ˋ ୨୧ ˊ˗ —

The Halloween season is right around the corner and I’ll have to do some work to set the atmosphere for the lovely town I’ve been slashing for couple of good years.

I am called ‘The Ghostface killer’ around this town, known mostly for the gruesome crime scenes I create which I’m proud to said in know for that, how I always manage to cover up any evidence that could lead to discovering my identity.

There’s been many before me, some were better some worse. Dating back almost centuries, I can say I’ve been through some stuff in the past. I don’t want to get into detail with it but let’s just say I’m on a revenge mission, murdering and torturing the people who’ve hurt me in the past.

But there’s a little problem flowing in my mind… my ex-bodyguard, Christopher.

He’s an FBI Agent, often a bodyguard or guarding something. The FBI are currently investigating ‘The Ghostface Killer Crimes’ how do I know? Oh it’s obviously because I stalked him, unfortunately I also found out some unpleasant things too.

His mother has set up him with another women for a date. And it’s fucking tonight.

I may have hacked into his chat logs as well and overheard him and his mother talking over the phone when I was just watching him on the cameras with sound recorders I’ve installed along with the cameras.

As much as I try to let go of him, when I manage get him out of my mind and focus on other things at hand he just latched onto my brain and messes with it, just coming back each time like a boomerang.

— ˗ˋ ୨୧ ˊ˗ —

I’m getting ready to discretely stalk Christopher’s date, dressing up normally but keeping my mask on me since I’ll be doing some dirty work today and I can’t get blood on my beautiful face, can I? But mostly to hide my real identity from her.

I walk into my closet, picking out a black corset along with some matching black jeans that make my body look amazing together with the corset, I want her to see something pleasant to look at before she will go out.

Adding the finishing touches such as jewelry, a black leather jacket draping it over my shoulders and black boots I glance over at the mirror of my bathroom and fix my hair. I almost feel like I’m getting ready for a date to which I chuckle internally at the fact I’m going out for a completely different reason. ( outfit here )

I grab my bag off the bathroom counter it was sitting on, walking over to a big black duffel bag dropped on my bed I pick out what weapons I would like to use today.

Picking the classic and iconic knife along with a small electric saw but also a gun for extra fun, I shove the gun into a hidden pocket in the leather jacket and drop the knife and saw in the bag of today’s choice.

Inside of the bag already resides my phone, a digital camera I take pictures of my beautifully gruesome crime scenes and of my victims for little pieces of memories.

After I’m done preparing, I make sure everything is in place and locked as I finally walk out of the house.

Time to start this little shitshow

— ˗ˋ ୨୧ ˊ˗ —

Im in my car, sitting in front of a fancy restaurant the date was planned at with my laptop sitting my lap, watching them through the restaurants cameras I’ve managed to hack into. People really need to make their security devises have a stronger protection because this was easier than I thought it would be.

My blood boils with jealousy as she reaches out with a napkin in her hand to wipe off a piece of the food they’re eating that got left on his upper lip. If she puts her hands on him again, I’ll cut the motherfuckers off and give them to him if he continues to allow it.

He’s very aware of having a person stalking him but he doesn’t know who it is even being an FBI agent he couldn’t simply figure out who it is, I grab my phone out of my bag and open the messages app. Typing out a simple text I send it over to him and watch him on the cameras for his reaction.

Me : Is someone running off with other women? Keep having her hands all over you and you’ll see what happens next.

Seeing him excuse himself to check the message on his phone I’ve sent, a look of horror and caution creeps into his features as he looks around nervously but he hides them with a tight smile from the woman that’s completely oblivious of what the message contained nor why he suddenly changed in demeanor.

For the rest of the night, he avoided her touch as much as he could but slip ups did occur. At the end of the date he cautiously walked her back to her car, I was parked not far away from her so I saw everything with my eyes. When they say their goodbyes she leans in and places a gentle kiss on his cheek before getting into her car and proceed to drive away.

He returns to his own car and just sits there lost in thought, the look on his face etched into his features, more evident now that he’s alone. After a few minutes he starts the car and drives away.

Now it’s time for the fun part to start.

I tracked the woman’s home address before they went on the date and found out all of the basic knowledge about her without unnecessarily digging too deep, putting her home address into the gps now it’s finally my time to drive off.

— ˗ˋ ୨୧ ˊ˗ —

After a while of driving I finally reach my destination and park in front of an old-money house thats a pretty good size for someone who lives alone. Looks like mommy and daddy’s wealth payed off for her.

I have a feeling she’ll be fun to torture.

I grab my bag with all of the supplies I need and get out of the car in one swift open of a door, walking around the car I face the trunk. Opening it I take out a cloth along with a small bottle of sedative.

Popping the cap off the bottle I pour some of it onto the cloth, glancing around the containments of my trunk if I won’t need anything else, grabbing my signature mask as the last item I need and slide it over my head now concealing my face.

With one efficient and swift move I close the trunk and finally head towards her house, time to do some breaking in now, put the bitch to sleep and drive her to my house. After I’m done with that I’ll have some good old fun with her.

Going through the back door that thankfully was left open behind I quietly enter the building, checking if anything besides me is lurking in the dark shadows covering her house and find nothing, no sign of any animals too to which I sigh in relief. I really hate killing peoples animals. ( don’t actually kill animals irl )

I slyly maneuver my way through the darkness and up the stairs, them creaking as if I’m in a horror movie. Getting up the creaky ass stairs I see light coming out of one of the rooms, assuming that’s where she’s currently located I decide to put more of the sedative on the cloth in my hand to make sure she doesn’t wake up during the ride back to my house.

Scanning the surrounding area I can’t help but wonder if she left the door unlocked, she does live alone so no one could technically get into her house and into the bathroom while she’s in there, right?

As I come closer to the bathroom my ears suddenly get assaulted by music coming out from the slightly opened bathroom door, she has shit taste in music.

Creeping up to the bathroom door I widen the open hole with my hand as quietly as possible to not draw any sudden unwanted attention to it.

I take a small peak inside and see the shadow of her figure through the shower curtains she’s concealed behind, thinking this is gonna be easier than I thought I slowly enter the room and make my way towards the shower.

Pulling open the curtain my eyes are met with my target being completely nude while water rains onto her naked body from the shower head secured to the wall in front of her.

Without giving her anytime for further reaction than the horror slowly spreading across her features I slap the cloth over her mouth to muffle her screams pouring out of her mouth.

When she falls asleep I get her out of the shower and put the clothes she left in the bathroom onto her body, tossing her over my shoulder again I carry her back to my car and drop her into the backseat.

I drive off from under her house and on the path back to my house.

— ˗ˋ ୨୧ ˊ˗ —

We arrive at my house and I check into the backseat to see if she’s woken up.

“Still knocked out.”

I exit the car and take her out of the backseat, tossing her over my shoulder again and carry her into my basement or how I like to call it ‘The secret layer of crime’

Walking down the stairs and underground I drop her from my shoulder and into a bloody wooden chair in the middle of my basement or torture chamber, tying her down to it with a thick rope that was sitting next to it on a small wooden stool so she doesn’t get away when she finally wakes up.

Next to the chair is a white plastic table with various torture weapons I usually can’t carry around with me, opening my bag I dump out the weapons I took with me earlier.

I wait for her to wake up because I need her to be fully conscious during the whole process, I’m gonna make this painful for her. Mentally and physically.

After a few minutes of waiting she finally regains her consciousness and looks at me with the same horror on her face as when I took her, she tried to scream but realizes her mouth is ceiled shut with a cloth taped to her mouth.

A sinister laugh rumbles in my throat at her desperate tries to pry her way free or scream for help, this basement is sound proof so no one will hear her even in the slightest mumble.

“Oh are you trying to escape? You poor little thing, how sad.” I say with mockery lacing my tone, my eyes settle down on the table full of weapons and her eyes follow right behind, her horror spreading further and becoming more evident.

She violently shakes to try and loosen the thick rope she’s secured with tightly to the chair, grabbing a knife off the table I walk over to her. My shoes creating echoing foot step sounds that bounce around the walls of the basement.

Leaning down and getting up close to her face I raise the knife to her jawline and slowly trace it, the cold blade leaving goosebumps behind its path.

Her eyes become glassy and tears roll down her cheeks, a smirk spreads across my face at the beautiful sight of her being scared.

“You know why you’re here?” I ask, knowing I won’t get a clear answer out of her, the cause of it being the cloth taped to her mouth.

Shaking her head negatively, meaning she’s saying no and I become amused by not having a lack of an answer from her as I expected. She’s really desperate to stay alive, how pathetic.

“Well you don’t have to know but let’s just say you might be loosing some limbs today, hm?”

Her eyes widen at my sudden statement as her horrified state intensifies along with her desperate tries to escape, the sight is complete gold or a rare find that can only be dug up deep in the cold mines.

I slide a small stool with some blood covering the surface of it and place it under one of her hands, extending my hand behind me onto the weapon table I grab the mini electric saw.

Without hesitation I flip it on and it starts up with a roar, bringing the circling saw blade to her wrist and saw right down which detaches her hand from her arm. Blood sprays out from her arm and onto my clothes and everything around it as I take the severed hand and place it onto the weapon table.

Grabbing the stool and putting it where her other hand is and copy the same procedure of detaching the hand as on the other.

When that’s done I put the new severed hand next to its sister on the weapon table along with the now blood-covered saw. She’ll die a slow, painful and torturous death after I’m done with her.

I hover my hand over the weapon table and select a weapon at random, I grab onto something long and sharp, knowing what it is already I grasp the leather handle of it and bring the blade to her neck, slicing it open but not enough to kill her yet.

Putting the weapon down back onto the weapon table I walk over to a chest and open it, taking out a small carboard box among different body bags, trash bags and gloves I’ve left in here because I was too lazy to throw it out.

I close the chest and place the box on top of it, walking back to the weapon table I grab the severed hands and then go back to the box and neatly place them inside.

Thinking of what to add to it I decide or grab my camera from my bag I dropped onto the ground after taking out the weapons I took with me earlier I take a picture of the tortured and slowly dying woman on the chair. Just a little memory for him to remember.

I take the Polaroid out of the camera and grab the knife off the table, stabbing into what’s left of her hand to draw some blood onto the blade of it and I write a small letter with it on the back of the Polaroid.

After I’m done with my little letter I return back to the box, closing it and ceiling it shut with some tape I had in my grasp.

Grabbing the box and the Polaroid I exit the basement and go into my car to give Chris a little surprise. By the time I exit the basement the sun is already coming up and starting to illuminate the world.

I drop the box next to me in the passenger seat along with the polaroid and drive off to his house. He should be awake by now since he usually wakes up when the sun comes up.

— ˗ˋ ୨୧ ˊ˗ —

Arriving at my destiny under his house I take the box with the Polaroid and get out of my car, walking over to the front door of his house I place the box down onto the doormat that has ‘Welcome!’ written across it in black bold letters on a white background.

I neatly place the Polaroid on top of the the box that’s slowly leaking blood from one of the bottom corners and onto the white and black doormat, I ring his doorbell and walk back to my car to drive off from under his house before he saw me.

The note on the back of the Polaroid says is bloody letters.

‘Like running off with other women so much? Here’s a little surprise for you but I’ll say one thing. You are mine and no other woman is allowed to lay your hands on you. Ever again.’

- Your lovely Stalker

Guestlist!

@slutforsturnioloss @sturnioloblues @sturnsxplr-25

Comment under this post to be added!

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xoxorory · 29 days ago

Text

Web of Lies !

POV: Fem!Reader AU: Spider-man!Percy Jackson Genre: Romance, humor, tension, flirting, +18 suggestive,slightly angsty ?, established relationship Word Count: ~3000 characters approx

tags 🏷️: @simpingmyassoff (if you want to be included comment below!!)

I'm tired.

Tired of unanswered messages. Tired of vague excuses. Tired of Percy Jackson—the boy I’ve been officially dating for four months (and wanting for way longer)—acting like we’re... nothing.

The worst part is I still melt when he smiles. Every time he touches my lower back or throws one of those smooth, raspy-voiced comments my way, I forget he's been acting off. That he’s been sneaking out. That he shows up late, bruised, with cuts on his brow and swollen knuckles. That he says “I fell off my bike” like I’m stupid.

He didn’t answer me at all today.

So here I am, in his room, sitting on his bed, lights off, in silence. The window is cracked open — as always — because Percy likes to sleep with a breeze.

And something tells me that window is more useful than it looks.

It’s 11:36 p.m.

And then, I hear it. A soft scraping sound, almost like fabric sliding against bricks. I lean forward just as a shadow crosses the window frame.

And I see him. Spider-man. Sneaking into my boyfriend’s room.

His boots hit the floor in complete silence, but the moment he takes a step toward the bed, I switch on the nightstand lamp. Gotcha.

—What the hell...? —Spider-man whispers, frozen. —Hi there, “friendly neighborhood” —I say, arms crossed.

He’s frozen. No way to hide it. The suit might cover his face, but I recognize his breathing, his stance, the way he furrows his brow under the mask.

—Princess...—he says quietly, then brings his hands to his face and pulls off the mask.

And there he is.

Percy Jackson. Waves stuck to his forehead with sweat, split lip, a purple bruise blooming on his cheekbone, and those damn sea-green eyes. He looks at me like I’m the storm and he’s the idiot who forgot his umbrella.

—It’s not what you think —he starts.

—Oh, really? Because I’m thinking you’ve been lying to me for weeks. That you canceled our anniversary date with a “headache” and then swung off into New York —I snap, standing up—. Do you know how many times I called you today, Percy?

—I know, I know. Listen, I wanted to tell you, I really did, but...

—But what? You thought I couldn’t handle the truth? —I ask, hurt.—Not by the secret identity. But by the fact you didn’t trust me.

He steps toward me, slowly. There’s a desperate clumsiness in the way he moves.

—Princess, I... every time I look at you, I think you're the only good thing I have. The one thing I can’t let break. And if you knew who I was, what I do every night... you'd have more chances of getting hurt. I couldn't risk that.

I stay silent. Because damn it, his voice sounds broken. Because I get it. But that doesn’t erase the lies. The nights he slept beside me with bruised knuckles and a back full of cuts, mumbling “I hit the door.”

—I spent weeks thinking you didn’t care anymore. That you were pulling away because...you got bored of me —I admit quietly.

—Bored of you? —he says like I just insulted his mom—. Princess, I swear there is no universe where I’d ever stop wanting you.

And his words fall over me like a web, catching me.

Another step. Now he’s close enough that I can see a drying blood smear on his cheek,my hand went unconciously to cup it.

—What was it this time? —I ask—. A thief? A monster? A pissed-off woman with crow wings?

He gives a small smile. —Just... an out-of-control truck. Nothing I couldn’t handle.

—Sure —I reply, trailing my fingers along his neck, tugging down the zipper of his suit just enough to reveal hot, bruised, trembling skin.

—You’re mad —he murmurs. —Furious —I whisper.

And I kiss him.

It’s a rough kiss, full of anger and want, but also that old connection, that urgency that’s always been between us. His hands go straight to my waist, gripping like he’s scared I’ll vanish.

—Don’t lie to me again, Percy. Not ever —I say between kisses.

—Never again. I swear.

And I believe him. Because he’s shaking. Because his heart is pounding so hard I can almost feel it through the suit. Because he looks at me like I’m home.

After a moment, I pull back just enough to look at him. He’s undone, exhausted, and completely mine in that second.

—You seriously need to stop showing up late to our dates —I say, brushing my fingers along his jaw. —I will. As long as you promise not to wait in the dark like a villain. —Maybe I want to be your villain —I smirk.

He laughs. That laugh that melts me. —You’ve already got my whole heart, Princess. Be as bad as you want.

We stay like that, wrapped in each other, with the city growling outside—but for the first time in weeks, we feel at peace. Because he’s Spider-man. And I’m his princess.

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ieatstarsforaliving · 2 years ago

Text

The Set-Up for Chapter 4 (3)

Summary: Hazel is really bad at lying. Especially to you.

Pairing: Spider-Woman!Hazel Callahan x Classmate!Reader

Warnings: Mature language, use of (Y/N), mentions of violence and death, I don't know what else honestly it's like 2 AM

Word Count: 4244

Note: I know it's been a while, my bad- turns out this whole university thing actually needs my time and effort to pass or something idk. Anyways, this chapter is lowkey kind of boring cause it's the set-up for the fun upcoming action-filled bloody chapters so just bear with me. But since I was gone for a while this is extra long... at least for me. Next fic is chapter 2 of The Grief We're Given so enjoy the lighthearted fic for now... also am lazy so this is unedited LMAO so it might be bad idc <3

“(Y/N), I know this may come off as a shock, but I love you too much to hide it from you anymore. I’m actually… the Spider-Woman!”

PJ dramatically pulled off the red mask from her face, striking a pose, earning a laugh from Hazel.

The trio were putting away the equipment they used for the Fight club after all the other members had left the gym— and by that it meant Josie and Hazel were putting away equipments while PJ thought it was a fun idea to dig through Hazel’s backpack to pull out her Spider-Woman mask, put it on, and start doing cartwheels and other nonsense around the gym floor.

“Okay, why don’t you actually help us clean up, PJ,” Josie complained, folding up the floor mats, “Instead of blowing Hazel’s cover?”

“Fine,” PJ rolled her eyes before throwing the mask back to Hazel, who caught it reflexively just as it was about to hit her face. “But even if anyone saw me with the mask, it’s not like they would believe any of us losers could possibly be the amazing Spider-Woman.”

PJ threw a playful grin at Hazel who folded the mask and hid it in her backpack. PJ had been begging her to reveal her superhero identity for a while, saying that it would raise all of their social levels right to the top. Josie, in reverse, begged Hazel not to reveal her identity, especially given the risks involved.

“But what if you just told (Y/N)? Then, she’ll fall in love with you, then automatically she’ll hang out with us more, and by association she’ll bring Isabel and Brittany with her!” PJ argued, still unwilling to drop the topic.

“Yeah, and then the next villain that wants to kill Hazel will take the people she loves as hostage,” Josie warned. “In fact– I know we’ve been doing the self-defense club for a while and it’s been going pretty well so far, but Hazel has exposed herself way too much.”

PJ groaned, indicating her impatience with Josie’s cautious approach. “Okay what part of this is too much? All Hazel’s doing is lightly punching and kicking a bunch of girls.”

“Was it the backflip?” Hazel chimed in.

“Yes, it was the backflip!” Josie blurted. “And we can’t keep saying ‘there’s all sorts of people who teach you stuff in juvie’ as an excuse anymore.”

“But the club is working!” PJ insisted, flailing her arms towards the gym. “Girls are actually acknowledging us in the hallways, I’ve gotten 3 high fives just this afternoon, and girls– the hot ones know our names. And also Female solidarity and whatever. The club is working!”

“I know. I feel like if we keep it up, you guys might actually be able to take down some crime in the area.”

“No, if we keep it up we can put our fingers inside of each other, grow up, Hazel.”

Josie crossed her arms. “Whatever. It’s your call.”

“I do feel like people are liking more than just the hitting and the tackling part of the club.”

The club had moved onto catfights on the gym floor, and it was no secret to Hazel that she always looked forward to these training sessions, particularly when it came to her interactions with you. All the punching, kicking, and rolling around the floor was more than what Hazel believed she deserved, but she couldn’t help but crave a deeper connection with you. And the weekly lunch meetings to make the ‘women murdered in history’ project weren’t exactly enough to get to know each other.

PJ shrugged. “Yeah, I know, we’re empowering them. Duh.”

“No, I mean, seriously, to have a safe space like this, it means a lot to people, and I think if we took some time to spend a meeting and actually get to know these girls, like, it would be really important instead of just…” Hazel pictured the time you were on top of her, pinning her down with your feeble strength, bodies pressed close– so close– as you grappled each other on the floor, listening to the chants and cheers of the girls circling around. Her voice trailed off. “...sweating on them.”

PJ and Josie paused, then looked at each other with an incredulous smile.

“Hazel, that is… genuinely a brilliant idea.”

“I love talking about my trauma.”

Hazel squinted. “That’s not really–”

“-I literally jack off after every single therapy session. It just makes girls weirdly horny.”

Josie shook her head. “Don’t say ‘girls’. It’s just you.”

“Okay!” Hazel interrupted, fearing someone walking in midst of the conversation that turned weird thanks to PJ, as always. “I’ll just email the group about our next meeting.”

You walked into the gym with an excited grin. Fight club was the one thing you looked forward to in school nowadays— it was the only place you felt truly safe and comfortable, with only girl members (minus Mr. G, but he was an ally) who cheered you on with every weak punch that you threw.

Hazel noticed you walking in and waved to you, and you noticed that the format of the club had changed today. Everyone was sitting in a circle, like one of those sharing sessions in kindergarten times. You joined the circle in between Krystal and Hazel, who grinned like an idiot when you sat beside her.

“What’s going on?” You whispered to her, but Josie answered your question.

“So, we know that this club has been a place where we can feel empowered physically, but we also thought it could be a safe space and a place where we can open up and talk about our feelings.”

You nodded along as the girls began to talk about themselves— Sylvie with her stepdad, Stella with her stalker, and Brittany with her jewelry business— and you realized that although you had been fighting each other for a while, you never knew that much about the girls. You listened tentatively to each of their stories, but to your honesty, you were quite distracted by your project partner, who kept opening her mouth, then closed them continuously. She seemed to be contemplating whether or not to open up. Your curiosity piqued, and when your eyes met with her’s, you encouraged her with a supportive look.

Hazel smiled at your aid. She didn’t really know how to talk about the biggest secret that she held about her superpower, but your expression was so supporting– too supporting, that she found herself speaking out.

“Well, ever since…” Hazel began, her mind racing to find the right words.

I’ve been bitten by a radioactive spider,

“...My parent’s divorce,”

I’ve been doing this, like, superhero stuff after school. I don’t even know if I’m doing this right, you know?

“My mom’s been doing this, like, mid-life crisis. I don’t know how that’s sitting with me, you know?”

And it’s just me swinging through buildings and beating criminals up and handing them over to the police who hate me because I’m a faceless vigilante but the entire neighborhood depends on me because some of these criminals are genuinely insane. I’ve broken bones, I’ve fallen through roofs, I got impaled once, that was fun— and it just feels so incredibly amazing but so burdening, all the same time.

“And it's been really really dark.”

She took a glance at you, who was nodding through her words, returning her gaze with tender understanding.

“This has just been really meaningful to me to, like, get to know some new people-”

(Y/N).

“-Who actually wants to, like, get to know me.”

You felt a surge of empathy for Hazel. You could hear the vulnerability shining through her words— it must have been hard to find good friends after experiencing such hardship. You couldn’t help but come to admire her even more.

You raised your hand. “And I just wanted to say that I think it’s very hard to find a good and safe community in school for girls, and I’m really grateful to Hazel for founding this club,” You gushed. “It's really brave of you— and your friends— to take your past and turn it into something so amazing for us. So, thank you.”

Hazel grinned like an idiot, fidgeting with her hair as her face burned up.

“Get a room, you two,” PJ intervened with a smirk. “But seriously, I just want to circle back to what Brittany was saying–”

“-I would like to go next, if that’s okay.” Josie raised her hand.

PJ was obviously discontented, but Josie started anyway.

“I don’t really like talking about juvie and everything that happened over the summer, um, you know, we get a lot of props or whatever cause people think it's so badass, But, really wasn’t. I mean, unless you consider getting hazed horrifically every single night, like, badass. I mean, obviously, you know, we had to survive the tributes, and you know, I did have to, like, fight people basically every single night. People were betting on us and we were given shivs and rusty pocket knives and splintered wood and, um, pipes as well.”

Hazel furrowed her eyebrows. No one’s going to believe this, She thought, turning to look at Isabel—

–Who had the most distressed look on her face?

Oh, Hazel blinked, shocked that Josie’s improvised monologue is working. There were almost tears glistening in Isabel’s eyes. She assumed Isabel to be the only one, then she turned to look at you— and your hand was on your mouth, eyes filled with woe.

“And we had to just like, fight people, sometimes to the death,” Josie added.

Hazel frowned. This wasn’t good.

Josie continued.

“And I still hear their screams at night and that guilt probably will, like, always shackle me forever. And sometimes people still try to attack us in the streets for revenge, or try to blackmail us into doing bad things with them, but I realize now, I don’t have to be that person anymore. We don’t have to be like that anymore. We don’t have to just let things happen to us. Because of you guys. And I am just really grateful for what the club has become and… just especially, you know, from where we started and, uh…”

Hazel’s eyes were leaping out of her face as she gestured to Josie to tone it down. She frantically shook her head, indicating that Josie’s speech had much more effect than she thought it would.

“Yeah, sorry,” Josie caught on, ending her facade quickly. “I feel like I kinda killed the vibe. I’ve never really, I guess, said that to anyone before, sorry.”

There was a silence that Hazel felt the need to break. This was bad– she knew Josie liked talking about her trauma, but she didn't expect Josie to make up the most devastating, hunger-games type of trauma in front of you.

“But juvie also wasn’t that bad,” Hazel blurted. “I mean it’s probably way less scary than adult prison, and it really builds character–”

You turned to look at Hazel who was rambling about the positive effects of juvie. Your heart broke at the sight of panic on her face– how harsh were the conditions of juvie that Hazel felt the need to protect her trauma?

Josie cut in. “Yeah, okay, people wanna wrap up maybe or…”

“I’m going through a divorce.”

Everyone turned to Mr. G.

“Whoo! That shit felt good to say.” Mr. G beamed, his leg stretched out as a free spirit. “Whoo, I tell y’all. Men… men need therapy.”

Josie stood up. “Yeah… I think that’s a good place to maybe wrap up.”

“What was that?” Hazel asked.

Josie shrugged, putting on her jacket. “I don’t… I don’t really–”

“-I mean, you were just bullshitting from A to Z with no breaks in between. I didn’t know you were such an actress, Josie.” PJ laughed, playfully shoving Josie’s shoulder. “You should think about that, for your future career.”

Hazel did not laugh. “Josie, you were the one who told me not to be ‘too much.’”

“I don’t think it was too much. I think it was the exact amount of oomph we needed as a group.” PJ grabbed her shoes from the floor. “It made us look vulnerable but also tough.”

“I don’t think (Y/N) was thinking that.”

“Okay, How do you know what (Y/N) was thinking?”

“I don’t, but I could see her–”

“-Maybe she’ll tell you herself,” PJ said, pointing behind Hazel.

Hazel spun around to see you walking towards her. She immediately straightened herself, touching up her hair as you waved to her.

“Hazel.”

Hazel gulped in response.

“So, I was wondering if you wanted to finish the project today?” You asked, giving a shrug. “If you’re not busy. I know you’re always kind of busy and that’s why we just always did our project during lunch, but–”

“-I’m not busy!” Hazel exclaimed, before mentally slapping herself for being too eager. “I mean, today sounds good. Today is perfect.”

“Okay!” It was your turn to be eager, giving a nod before pointing to the girls locker room. “I’ll just get my bag, and I’ll be right back.”

As you slipped into the locker room, PJ and Josie slid towards Hazel with a curious look.

“It didn’t look like she was angry,” PJ commented with a grin. “So, in conclusion, today was a huge success. Do you guys want to get chicken on a stick to celebrate?”

“I… I think I’m hanging out with (Y/N).” Hazel gaped, as if she couldn’t believe that this was actually happening. She was going to hang out with you. Today. Outside of school.

“Right now?”

“Right now!” Hazel gasped. “Oh my god, I don’t know why I said yes, I have to go and patrol the neighborhood–”

“-Ugh, Hazel!” PJ groaned, grabbing Hazel by the shoulders. “That’s literally all you do. You go to school, you come to the fight club, then you patrol the neighborhood. That’s all you do.”

“But—” Hazel sputtered. “-Crime–”

“-Hazel, Crime has been pretty low recently. The world isn’t going to burn down just because you miss patrol for a single day,” PJ countered, as if speaking to a child. “Do you trust me? It’s all about faith. That’s all it is. Leap of faith, Hazel. Leap of faith. Trust me when I say the police can deal with all the petty crimes. Go and enjoy yourself, finish your project, and remember to use protection.”

Hazel’s cheeks grew hot as she opened her mouth to counter PJ— just as you approached the trio with your bag.

“Hey, Hazel. Ready to go?”

Hazel buffered, her mind still on the sexual innuendo. She couldn’t help but think about certain activities when you stood there with your signature smile, earning a cackle from PJ.

“Sorry, we were just talking about juvie trauma and shit. She’s all yours.” PJ earnestly pushed Hazel towards you. “See you guys tomorrow!”

PJ skipped out of the gym, followed by Josie who gave Hazel a thumbs-up. Hazel responded to Josie with a nod. PJ was right– it was just for a day. Just one day off to hang out with you– which was the dream– and tomorrow, she would patrol twice as hard to make it up.

“Sorry, I just was thinking about-” Hazel faltered. “-things.”

“Things?”

Hazel felt the room get hotter. “It’s fine. Not really important.”

“Alright. So, where do you want to go?” You asked.

“Uh…”

Hazel thought about what PJ had said.

Leap of faith, was it?

And she took the leap.

“Do you want to come over to my place?”

By 8PM, the two of you found yourself in Hazel’s room, caught in a fit of laughter. Pizza and snacks were strewn across her bed, and music played out from her laptop as you wrapped up the project— a lego diorama with a bunch of famous murdered women. It was quite inappropriate but also incredibly creative, and the ridiculousness of it all had you two in stitches.

“I bet you 5 dollars that Mr. G doesn’t even have an actual degree,” You joked, adding a lego version of Casey Becker to the diorama. “He just showed up one day, and Principal Meyers desperately needed more teachers.”

“And ever since the club, he’s just been handing out As to every single girl,” Hazel laughed, causing you to fall into a fit of giggles as well. She lived for your laughter, thanking PJ and Josie in her head for convincing her to skip patrol for the day.

“Okay, I think we’re almost done. Just have to add the blood.” You grabbed the bottle of red paint and dropped some on your fingertip, then dabbed it around the lego characters’ bodies to create the ‘murder’ effect.

In the process, you somehow managed to smudge some on your cheek, which didn’t go unnoticed by Hazel who had made a habit of staring at you all the time.

“Oh, you got some on your…” Hazel tried, pointing to your face.

You blinked, eyes focusing on her face as you registered her words. You chuckled in embarrassment, trying to find the paint on your cheeks and obviously failing.

“Can I…?” Hazel breathed, and you tilted your head, allowing her to wipe away the streak of paint with her thumb. Her fingers moved delicately across your cheek, her eyes locked onto your’s. You could feel the warmth of her hand on your skin, and you melted against it. Hazel’s touch lingered on your cheek for a moment longer than necessary, and Hazel realized only after she had savored the view for a while.

She pulled away, breaking your gaze with a sheepish smile. Your cheeks were tinted with a soft blush, and you muttered a word of thanks before finishing off the project with distractingly loud heartbeats.

The two of you stared at the finalized diorama in proud silence, taking in the project in its glory. It was messy and odd, but it was still illustrious.

“Well, I guess we’re finished!” You clapped your hands to commemorate the ending of you and Hazel’s homework.

“It’s been fun working with you,” Hazel replied, a little disappointed that this was the end of the project. What excuse did she have to hang out with you now?

You cocked your head. “Oh, don’t act like this is the last time we’re ever going to hang out together.”

“Really?”

“Of course!” You grinned. “With Mr. G’s class, lunch, and the self-defense club, I’m going to be with you all the time. You might even get sick of me at some point.”

I’m not sure that’s possible, Hazel thought to herself, really pleased that she had secured friendship with you.

“Speaking of the self-defense club, I’m really glad that you invited me,” You continued, wiping your red hands with a nearby paper towel. “I was being honest during the sharing circle. I’m really grateful for you.”

Hazel softened at your words.

“And I hope your mom gets better with her mid-life crisis,” You added.

“Thank you.” Although you had complimented her, Hazel couldn’t help but feel a bit guilty about the sharing circle. She was lying to you– continuously. Was that a good base for a relationship? Not that you two had a relationship. Not that she didn’t want one. “Listen– what Josie said about juvie today, I think I have to clarify some things.”

You shook your head. You had purposefully left out that subject not to trigger her– and you didn’t want to make it feel like she owed you her history. “Oh, Hazel, you don’t need to explain anything to me. I get that it’s a hard subject to talk about, and I just want you to know that I’m here if you need anything.”

Hazel hesitated. She supposed if you didn’t really want to hear the explanation, she could keep her secret—

“-I mean what you went through was brutal and inhumane,” You continued.

Hazel’s guilt suffocated her.

“But you endured through it. You’re so brave. And so strong and just… honest. Like I can tell that everything that you do is genuine. You make me feel like I can be strong too—”

“-Okay, I need to tell you something,” Hazel interrupted. She couldn’t handle it anymore— but she knew she couldn’t tell you the whole truth. She took a deep breath before continuing. “There are some things happening in my life right now that I can’t really… talk about. But I want to. But I can’t. It’s for your safety and I shouldn’t even be mentioning that but… you really matter to me.”

Oh my god, I can’t believe I said that.

Hazel swallowed hard and gazed at you for a reaction.

“I do?” You peered back at Hazel’s reddened face. She nodded in response and it was your turn to be flustered, not knowing what to say.

“And I… I want to be honest with you,” Hazel pressed on. “I can’t tell you the whole truth. But I—”

“-Dispatch, we have a 10-90 in progress at the bank downtown. Requesting immediate backup and EMT support.”

Shit.

Shit shit shit.

Hazel quickly grabbed her laptop, which she had rigged to eavesdrop on police communications. She forgot that it automatically turned on after school. Why did it have to be now, of all fucking times?

“Was that the police?” You asked, confused.

Hazel shook her head frantically. “No, I just– it’s just another, uhm, project that I’m working on, it’s fine–”

“-Copy that. Units en route. Proceed with caution.”

“We have eyes on the suspects, attempting to establish a perimeter.”

“10-4, be advised, we’ve informed EMTs, and SWAT is en route. Keep us updated.”

Hazel hastily began typing, searching up the latest updates on the current news of the town. She managed to find the location of the bank robbery— which had everything Hazel feared for. Armed robbers, high-tech weaponry, and injured police officers.

“Fuck, I knew I shouldn’t have skipped today,” Hazel muttered under her breath.

You paused. “Skip what?”

“I—” Hazel swallowed, inner conflict evident as she spoke. “-I think I have to go.”

“Go?” You paused. “Hazel, what is going on?”

Hazel didn’t answer. Instead, she stood up and grabbed her phone and her backpack, briskly heading towards the door. But you were faster, quickly running and positioning yourself in the path to block her way.

“I think I know what’s going on,” you claimed, your voice low and heavy.

Hazel froze. Oh no. You knew. You knew? How did you know? Had she been so obvious? Was it the back flip?

“(Y/N), I can explain–”

“-This is related to juvie, isn’t it?”

Hazel blinked.

“What?”

She stared at you, who looked incredibly serious, with lips pursed tight in worry. Hazel shook her head frantically. She wanted to kick PJ for even coming up with that excuse– now it was getting all tangled up with you and her hero work.

“No! It has nothing to do with juvie,” Hazel assured, trying to get past you.

“You don’t have to lie to me, Hazel.”

Hazel furrowed her eyebrows.

I kind of do.

You understood her expression as guilt. “And obviously I don’t understand fully what’s going on but if what Josie said was true and some things are happening with the people you messed with from juvie, then, I want to help you.”

You stepped closer and took her hand, holding it tight with genuinity.

“Hazel, I care about you.”

Hazel released her breath.

If you had said that in any other context, Hazel would have kissed you right there and then. Your hands felt so warm, so gentle– a bit shaky, as if you were afraid of what she would do if you let go. And your unwavering eyes– upset eyes that made it seem like her worries belonged to you too— And it took everything in Hazel to swallow back her words, gently guiding you to her bed and sitting you down.

For a moment, you thought she would stay.

But Hazel pulled away from you..

“I’ll be back soon, okay? Just please, stay here, and I’ll be back,” Hazel whispered. “I promise.”

And after a regretful look, she was gone.

“Hazel—” You called after her. “Hazel!”

Your mind began to race– where was she going? All you remembered from the police transmissions was something about the bank and the SWAT team. You reached for your phone, searching up the local news. It wasn’t hard to find articles related to the current conflict—

Masked Robbers Employ High-Tech Arsenal in Bank Heist, Defying Police Response

Bank Heist Nightmare Unfolds; Thieves Utilize Cutting-Edge Tech

Bank Robbery in Progress: Impossible to Arrest, Police Say

Police Overwhelmed in Ongoing Standoff at 1st Street National Trust Bank

This was bad. Bank robbery? High-Tech Arsenal? It sounded dangerous– more than whatever Hazel could handle, no matter how strong she was during the self-defense club. What was she going to do with these criminals? Did she owe them something? She was always writing stuff in her notebook— did it have anything to do with this?

You ignored the questions stemming from your fear– you didn’t have time to think. Hazel was out there— and she was very clearly heading to an angry, dangerous scene.

But Hazel was just a girl.

And you had to protect her.

You had to save Hazel Callahan.

Previous Chapter: The Fucking Fight Club

Next Chapter

(Guys I don't know how a taglist works so just comment "Tag me next chapter" here BUT if you want to be tagged in all chapters, put "tag me in all upcoming chapters" on THIS POST ok???)

@valenftcrush

#hazel callahan #hazel callahan x reader #bottoms movie #hazel callahan fluff #hazel callahan x you #hazel callahan spiderwoman #bottoms (2023)#josie bottoms #pj bottoms

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sunderingstars · 10 months ago

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✩ ‧₊˚ ⌞ EIDOLONS ⌝

sampo analysis m.list

— what the stars reveal: interpretative analysis, heavily aha!sampo

— word count: 3k (can you tell i'm an english major? :3)

— overview: (as of 2.3) hello and welcome back to sampo theory time! this time, i’ll be looking at his eidolons, their names & art, and how they might factor in to his overarching identity and story. there will be a few conclusions i reference in this post (like eidolons progressing in a linear narrative), so if you want more on that, i highly recommend reading my eidolon names as narratives and eidolon art as facets of character posts first! it’s not required reading though (god i sound like a professor) — otherwise, enjoy!

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To begin, I would like to humbly say this post will likely be the most nerdy thing I’ve ever posted in my life. I have written entire paragraphs about two singular words for this. Two words. And I have even more I can say about them! But anyways, just a heads up, this is the type of thing you’d probably see spoken by a stereotypical “nerd” archetype in a high school movie. But without further ado, let’s get started!

(Yes, I am sad that I still only have him at E2 despite pulling every time he’s on a banner. And both of these are from event character selectors :))

My main thesis for this analysis is that Sampo’s eidolons follow a similar narrative structure to other eidolon sets in that they start with his backstory and progress to the present (and open-ended future) of where we are in the story; additionally, the placement of these names with the facets of his eidolon art add to further implications for his personality and development. This can lend itself to multiple of my theories — the main ones I will be interpreting for are Aha!Sampo, Emanator!Sampo / Functional Aha, and Dual Consciousness!Sampo.

✩ ‧₊˚ ⌞ AHA!SAMPO ⌝

Starting with Aha!Sampo, I interpret these eidolons as beginning at his “rise” to Aeonhood, then following through to him “spending” some kind of cost in the present/future for whatever his plans are.

“Rising Love,” his E1, has two important components — “rising” and “love.” “Rising” seems the most obvious to me, as Aeons have been referenced to “fall” before, so it makes sense that they would also be able to “rise.” Additionally, Himeko has explained that Aeons “ascended from the form of intelligent beings” (Parlor Car Dialogue); beyond “ascend” being a direct synonym of “rise,” this shows that Aeons can come from physical and perhaps even humanoid beings. In fact, Aha’s lore in the data bank, while not explicitly stating that Aha used to be mortal, implies the “climbing” of the tree of existence and laughing, which is a very human act. (However, it is good to keep in mind that this is a parable told by the Masked Fools, and given the nature of Elation factions may not be entirely truthful.) In this way, “ascend” and “rise” may be interchangeable, and the “birth” of an Aeon could also refer to the “rise” of a mortal to Aeonic status.

Next is “love.” For this we need to think not as followers of a Path, but as an Aeon Themself. While it may be easy to think “If he’s Aha, it should say rising elation” — 1. That might be a bit too obvious from a writing standpoint and 2. From an Aeonic perspective, Aha may very well view “Elation” as “love.” They may view spreading Laughter throughout the universe as the ultimate form of love, and as such “rising love” could refer to the rising of a being capable of dispersing “love” (Elation) on a wide scale throughout the universe.

After the ascension, or “rise,” to Aeonhood comes Sampo’s E2, “Infectious Enthusiasm.” This is one of the more obvious ones in my opinion, as “infectious” implies a status capable of imposing itself on others — influencing them in ways that are perhaps beyond mortal comprehension — and “enthusiasm” is closely linked to “Elation” both in wording (starting with the letter E) and in connotation. “Enthusiasm” and “Elation” are both high-energy words, carrying the idea of excitement and even mania. I would view this as “Aha proper,” in which Sampo has come into his full identity as an Aeon and is thus capable of dispersing “infectious enthusiasm” onto others (Pathstriders). (Aha is also directly described as having “infectious enthusiasm” in the Simulated Universe!)

“Big Money!”, his E3, is particularly interesting to me because it seems like an intrusion — a departure from the other, more grounded names. The exclamation mark especially lends itself to the exact kind of “infectious enthusiasm” present in his E2, to some kind of encroachment on his previous mortal existence. This ties into my compulsory existence theory, in which Aeons by nature live in a sort of compulsive state, needing to adhere to their given “concept” just by virtue of existence; this is heavily influenced by the game’s discussion of “Primum Mobile��s, or the idea of “restrictions” that come from existing as an Aeon. Aeons that ascend from mortal beings would experience the brunt of this, as their previous state would essentially be overwritten by this eldritch, compulsive concept.

I think “Big Money!” could symbolize such a change in Sampo. After ascending to Aeonhood from a potentially mortal form, intrusive thoughts of Elation encroach on his very being — the feeling of momentary thrill, of “Big Money!” — likely leading him into his next state: “the deeper the love, the stronger the hate”.

I’m not going to lie, I’m absolutely in love with the name for Sampo’s E4. It links back to so many aspects of his character in a way that sets up an amazing juxtaposition between his outward appearance and inward feelings in so few words! For me, “The Deeper The Love, The Stronger The Hate” highly relates to compulsory existence. As we see in Aha’s splash art, the smiling masks — the Elation, the “Love” — are always at the front in the spotlight, while the frowning masks — the sadness, the “Hate” — tend to be obscured in the background by shadow.

In a compulsory existence, I can’t imagine how horrible it must be to constantly be forced into performing a singular emotion or concept. In all likelihood, these negative emotions are barely able be felt at all, leading to extremely repressed layers of fear, anger, sadness and, yes, “hate.” “The stronger the love” — the stronger the Elation — means more repression, more hiding, a stronger fermentation of despising one’s own existence lingering in the background like shadowed masks — “the stronger the hate.” In this way, I believe Sampo’s E4 may convey this dual existence, of an existence where one side is so deeply, powerfully out-of-proportion with the other that any emotion from the other side is left to fester unchecked below the surface.

(Note: The name could also be referencing the talent level-up, which would show the self-aware aspect of his character. This would apply to his E5 as well.)

This hate, of course, is then covered up by “Huuuuge Money!” (E5), because we can’t have those feelings swirling around in a being of pure Elation, can we? they must be taken out with the trash, overshadowed with yet another encroachment of exclamation marks and the thrill of sudden gains. After Sampo’s rise to Aeonhood, it must’ve been a constant battle between these underlying negative feelings and his compulsory, Elated existence — and given the linear progression of most eidolons, this must’ve been a pattern that repeated for millennia, over and over and over again, one he can never escape or solve. Perhaps it still is.

Which is why, in his E6 “Increased Spending,” I believe Sampo may be “paying a cost” to try to alleviate this issue. Whether by becoming mortal, sectioning off his power to others, passing along his title, or any other number of potential solutions I don’t know, but I feel like he is turning his compulsive nature of Elation to the thrill of the “cost” in the hope of changing some part of this ever-chaotic, ever-stagnating existence. Either that, or it is to further a master plan we the audience don’t know about.

Overall, in terms of Aha!Sampo, I interpret these eidolons of tracking his rise to Aeonhood through his compulsory existence and fermenting self-hatred, all the way to “increased spending” trying to find a way around this problem.

Now, let’s take this a step further and add his eidolon art into the mix. This is where I’ll start to get into some of the conclusions I discussed in my eidolon art as facets of character post.

E1 (Rising Love): Keeping in mind “rising” as potentially referring to the rise of an Aeon and “love” as potentially referring to Aha’s idea of Elation, I see this figure as an ascending or untouchable silhouette; “walking” (or perhaps more aptly, climbing) into a new role. It also creates a distance between a potential “past” mortal form and a “current” Aeonic or ascended one.

E2 (Infectious Enthusiasm): I find it so interesting that “Infectious Enthusiasm” was chosen for the eye-centered eidolon. Since “Infectious Enthusiasm” is so, well, Aha-coded, this matches with the conclusions of first impressions and inciting incident from my eidolon art post. I believe this eye is meant to represent the first true “glimpse” of Aha people get — it is very close to the face without being too personal. It also spotlights Sampo’s unique facial features, mainly the almost condescending furrow of his brow. However, the eye itself has deep shadows, most likely referencing the dual hate within his being. This would be the “inciting incident” of Sampo in his Aeonhood proper, at the height of his power.

(Note: “Infectious” + the focus of an eye may further imply the presence of a “gaze” and the ability to distribute power in an Aeonic way.)

E3 (Big Money!): E3s are by far the most character-specific eidolon, with each character interacting with an important object to them. I feel like money is only fitting for Sampo, since it matches both the eidolon name and his obsession with making money. It very much leans into the “con-man” aspect of his character, and would make sense as the way acquaintances or those he keeps at arm’s length would view him (probably his customers).

I also find it extremely interesting how he is looking down. We see this a lot throughout his mannerisms and idles, with him always seeming to have a condescension that looks “down” on others below him. While this could be just another facet of his character, it also matches up with the way an Aeon may view the mortals around them — no matter how close They get to someone, that someone will always be “below” Them. It’s not even a conscious decision, just a natural byproduct of Aeonic existence, much like casting Their gaze down to bestow power on Pathstriders. Whether Sampo has become truly mortal at this point or not, it’s probably a bad habit to kick regardless. (I would also love to point out how him looking down at the money is also reminiscent of this (albeit more nostalgic and “loving”) face he makes towards Sparkle, a whole human being:)

E4 (The Deeper The Love, The Stronger The Hate): Here, we zoom in even more on his personality. Beyond the superficial impressions people get from seeing him at a glance, we have now entered a more complex emotional understanding — his eye, unlike in his E2, is more faded and shadowed, the hand scratching his head and his smile pointing towards a sort of “act” he puts on for others. This shows multiple dimensions of him: both the charismatic, smiling con-man, and the hatred lurking beneath that façade’s surface. This would be in a more present timeline, highlighting his “fake” and mysterious nature as well as how he is portrayed to people who know him better like friends. It shows a clear dissatisfaction with the façade he has to put up; whether the “love” is also a true emotion to him is up for debate, but either way this eidolon has him balancing between these two sides of his being (potentially balancing between an eldritch and mortal consciousness, or dealing with the aftermath and residual power of a past Aeonhood). (He also seems to be looking down at the spot the masks would match up with if the silhouette was looking down in Aha’s splash art — it is possible that this “hate” refers to the hate he has for his power or the power of the masks. Or, perhaps, this looking down is a general way to symbolize a being of higher power looking down on those below them like Pathstriders.)

E5 (Huuuuge Money!): This eidolon is more casual and comfortable than the others — there seems to be no dual-sided hate, nor does there seem to be as prominent of a focus on obsessive moneymaking in the art itself (the name is a different story). Instead, the main focus is drawn to Sampo’s outfit, the moniker of his existence in Belobog. The upper half of his face is still cut off, but the art seems to be hinting at a potential comfortability in Belobog, as well as the future mystery of his true identity (and if he will choose “Sampo Koski” as his real self). I actually love this combination, because it shows how Sampo may be at his most casual in Belobog; it’s clear he’s made real connections with the people there, and regardless of his motives, it seems to be a place he deeply cares about. This would be his appearance to close friends, most likely those aforementioned connections in Belobog like Natasha or Seele. (However, the looming encroachment of “Huuuuge Money!” still hangs in the air, perhaps signaling a bigger issue with Aeonic consciousness persisting despite his best efforts.)

E6 (Increased Spending): Finally, we get to the core essence of Sampo’s being. This is him at his most vulnerable, his appearance to only a select few special people. His head is tilted, his neck bared, showing clear trust and confidence in this position. The main thing of note here is the similarities between E6 and Aha’s splash art — the same pose and build with a different tilt.

This would mean that Sampo’s identity as Aha is his most vulnerable form of being — the fact of others knowing who he truly is, of wading through his personable exterior to reach the truth at the core of him, is a privilege only a trusted few get. This most likely points towards the “cost” implied by “increased spending,” the idea that, for whatever reason, Sampo’s true identity being revealed at the wrong time or too soon would put him in a less-than-ideal situation. As such, it is something he holds close to his chest (at least in Belobog) either willingly or unwillingly. (Note: This could also reference a past identity as Aha, it does not necessarily have to be something he experiences currently.)

It also shows that the silhouette in the splash art is the “core essence” of either Sampo, Aha, or both. Beyond the masks (much like Sampo’s façade) lies a deeper, truer version of who Aha is. The true Sampo is not the masks or the smiles or the laughs, but the shadowed figure beyond them, the silhouette that holds the hidden emotions of an Aeon.

I would also like to point out that, on the whole, Sampo’s eidolons (and kit in general) focuses on damage over time. Interpretations can be varied, but I personally like to think this further references the idea of “cost,” and that staying in mortal form as Sampo may be hurting him over time just like his DOTs affect others!

Overall, the art for these eidolons paired with the names create a fuller picture of who Sampo might be and what he might be hiding. There are a lot of hidden clues and implications that can be applied to several different interpretations, and I tried to account for multiple in my analysis! The standouts for me are his E2, E3, and E6, but that’s just because of personal preference. Before I conclude, I want to briefly interpret these eidolons for some non-Aha!Sampo theories.

✩ ‧₊˚ ⌞ ALTERNATIVE INTERPRETATIONS ⌝

There are other interpretations to be had, namely Emanator!Sampo and Dual Consciousness!Sampo. Many of the points I made for Aha!Sampo can be applied to Emanator!Sampo, as we know Aha is both capable and willing to give others entire mastery over Their path for shits and giggles. It is possible that Sampo, as either an Emanator or a “functional” Aha or both, could have a similar “rise,” “infection,” and compulsory existence as a result of Emanator status. Additionally, any kind of dual consciousness where Aha is trying to impose Their will on Sampo could contribute to the constant push-and-pull of two schools of emotions — even minds. We could read this as a more literal encroachment of Aha on Sampo’s mindspace, quite literally trying to force Elation into his brain while Sampo’s consciousness fights back. In this way, the “love” and “hate” mentioned could refer to more of Sampo’s feelings towards Aha as a separate or encroaching entity, rather than himself or his own existence.

(Note: This could also work for Aha!Sampo where Aha’s power & status is passed down or won like a sort of crown or title — a “mask” if you will — and Sampo is the latest inheritor/receiver of it. The eidolons would then track from a more recent experience of receiving power and dealing with the encroachment that comes with it. I think it would also lend to much more fear and confusion as this new existence would be a stark departure from Sampo’s previous mortal life.)

(Note 2: Electric Boogaloo: This could also work with a “transformation” theory where Sampo’s more human form and his eldritch-Aha counterpart have two distinct mind spaces, and the “encroachment” of “Big Money!” and “Huuuuge Money!” could be indicative of the literal mental change that happens when he transforms, leading to increased spending (or the “cost”) of him trying to stay in human form as much as possible because he doesn’t like what he becomes when he changes.)

(Note 3: I promise this is the last one: It is also possible that Aha has sectioned off these feelings of “hate” into a separate being — i.e. Sampo — and “The Deeper The Love, The Stronger The Hate” shows that how despite being separate physical beings, Aha and Sampo share an emotional space in which the “love” of Aha directly influences the severity of the “hate” in Sampo. Just a thought.)

Anyways, I find these eidolons super cool! I love how Sampo flips through his bills in his E3 and how his E6 mirrors the silhouette in Aha’s splash art. Even if the Aha! or Emanator!Sampo theories don’t end up being true, there’s some really cool psychological stuff going on that could speak broadly to his relationship with money, gambling, and his own self-image.

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.𖥔 ݁ ˖ જ⁀➴ if you read this far, thank you for doing so! it means a lot to me when people take the time to listen to my silly little theories, so yes, thank you! if you have anything else you want to add or if you just want to talk about these theories (which i am happy to do at literally any time) my askbox is open! hope you enjoyed my nerdy rambling :3

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#⌞ ✎ sunder.writes ⌝#⌞ 🎭 ⌝#hsr #honkai star rail #honkai: star rail #sampo #sampo koski #sampo hsr #hsr sampo #sampo honkai star rail #aha the elation #analysis #hsr analysis #hsr theory

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thedaythatwas · 1 year ago

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TW: Hegel.

So, what’s up with Shuake and dialectics? Click below to watch this user (who is not a philosopher) give this (frankly too invested) analysis a shot!

Something I’ve been thinking about a lot lately is the fact that most– but not all– of Joker’s confidant routes involve some sort of transaction. Joker does something for someone, Joker gets a favor in return. Joker’s identity revolves around what he can do for others. He’s got a different mask (haha game mechanic is narrative device etc.) for everyone in his life.

Getting a little bit in my head about this led me to a (not-all-that-novel) realization: Akechi’s confidant route is largely non-transactional. Sure, he says that he wants to meet with you to talk about the Phantom Thieves, but that more or less directly translates to just wanting to hang out with you. The “favor” that you're doing for Akechi, if we follow the logic of some of the other confidant routes, is spending time with him. (Which is of course also about getting close to Joker for metaverse recon purposes… But I’d argue that amounts to more or less the same thing in the long run anyway). Really, that’s what your relationship with him is, up until you realize the heart he needs you to change is actually one of the big-bads of the game. And at that point… Well…

Where am I going with this? I’ve also been thinking a lot about Hegel (I’ve seen some really fun posting about Akechi and Hegel on here this past week– thank you philosophy P5R tumblr!). Akechi’s paraphrasing of Hegel goes a little something like “advancement cannot occur without both thesis and antithesis.” Hilariously, this is how he frames his desire to talk to you more, his flirting is just like me forreal I understand him etc. etc. BUT! The interesting thing here is that the game is cueing you to view your relationship with Akechi through the lens of Hegel’s dialectics.

More on that to follow, but first, I want to plug the Stanford Encyclopedia of Philosophy’s page on Hegel’s Dialectics here– If you haven’t used it before, SEP is a reliable, peer-reviewed source. It’s great. I use it like. All the time. It’s good for getting the gist of big ideas when you don’t have time to read full texts. (Also if I get any of this wrong please know that philosophy is not my field and I’m totally open to constructive criticism.)

Hegel’s dialectical process revolves around three key moments: the moment of understanding, the dialectical moment, and the speculative moment. These moments can also be referred to as thesis, antithesis, and synthesis. The moment of understanding, thesis, is the point at which an idea is seemingly stable. In the dialectical moment, antithesis, this idea “sublates” itself– the idea is challenged and destabilized because an inherent contradiction in the idea has been made apparent–importantly, part of the idea is preserved. The speculative moment, synthesis, negates the contradiction. A new idea takes form, containing elements of the original idea that was sublated (Marx’s theory of history, anyone?)

This process continues on and on. Ideas naturally reveal their contradictions, are destabilized, and resolve their contradictions through the creation of a new idea, which is challenged again. This is because the dialectical moment does not come from outside an idea. Antithesis is not an external push against thesis, but rather, the moment when thesis is forced into instability because of its own tightly-bound restriction.

So back to what I was saying. The game kicks off your relationship with Akechi with a nod to, uh, all of that. Could this be a throwaway comment? Of course! But it’s much more fun to work under the assumption that it isn’t. So bear with me. Akechi is framing himself and Joker as thesis and antithesis. What does that mean? Why do I think it has something to do with Akechi and Joker’s relationship being non-transactional?

Previously, I’ve thought that in the context of their relationship, Akechi represented thesis, and Joker antithesis. This isn’t exactly true (at least per the criteria above) but I do think I was on the right track.

At the beginning of his story, we can think of Akechi’s worldview as thesis. The world is a stage, and he is a performer. His entire life is dedicated to destroying Shido. It’s a key narrative element of P5 that Akechi doesn’t have confidant relationships (as contrasted by Joker, who has many confidants and becomes stronger through building up those bonds). He views himself as deceiving literally everyone in his life for his goals– his “fans,” his father, the Phantom Thieves. He doesn’t trust, because to him, trust is failure.

Still, he’s starving for approval, and not just from Shido. You can see the inherent conflict between his desires and beliefs in just about every interaction he has with Joker, particularly those where Akechi overshares about his past. He desperately wants someone to hear him. I don’t think his (primary) aim in that was to strategically win Joker’s trust by showing vulnerability– if that was all he was going for, I doubt Akechi would have been so honest. He omitted information, sure, but he gave Joker the honest-to-god broad strokes of his childhood.

When Joker comes into his life, Akechi comes to realize that his stable worldview might be wrong. Watching Joker and the rest of the Phantom Thieves reveals the cracks in his own internal logic. Joker has friendships and he is stronger because of them. When Akechi sacrifices himself for the Phantom Thieves on Shido’s ship, we see his moment of synthesis. If Akechi really still internalized all of what he said in his “Teammates? Friends? To hell with that!” monologue, he wouldn’t trust Joker to change Shido’s heart in his stead. To be clear– he probably would have reached this point with or without Joker’s intervention. Joker just happens to push Akechi towards self-sublation a little bit faster.

In Royal, we see a new iteration of Akechi. He doesn’t really regret his actions, and he is still very distinctly Akechi, but we can see that his original perception of the world has made a shift. He is willing to team up with Joker. While he may not place a great deal of faith in all of the PTs, he certainly has real trust in the protagonist. He’s learned that he can be recognized (dare I say loved?) without being perfect, and accordingly, his driving desire for approval has been displaced by his desire to never be so completely under anyone else’s control again.

But ok— that’s kind of an old take. Perhaps a hotter one: I’d also like to propose that Akechi does the same for Joker.

As mentioned above, Joker’s identity for most of the game is defined by what he can do for the people around him. While a large part of this has to do with the fact that he is a playable character, this is a game, and a game needs to have things for you to do– it wouldn’t be very fun otherwise– it also seems pretty clear that this is part of his characterization. Joker is selfless to a fault. Like Akechi, he is a wildcard who can take on multiple personas. Unlike Akechi, instead of having a handful of personas directly linked to the core of his character development, Joker has as many personas as you want him to. He literally has a mask for every situation. You can equip a persona of the correct arcana to level up your relationships faster– a game mechanic, but also, an interesting meta statement about how Joker bonds with his confidants.

In Royal, however, Joker has the option to do something for himself. His greatest wish isn’t for someone else's happiness– it’s to have Akechi back, for selfish reasons, I would argue. Joker can sacrifice reality to keep him in his life, and depending on the actions you choose to take, sometimes, he does.

Loving Akechi teaches Joker to be selfish. This is especially poignant when you think of how adamantly opposed Akechi is to staying in Maruki's reality. Giving up the true reality to keep Akechi is a wholly selfish act on Joker's part, nothing altruistic about it. And if he doesn't make that choice? Well, don't forget about how Joker spent his wish.

He would have learned how to do this without Akechi– one tends to realize that neverending self-sacrifice is unsustainable sooner rather than later. Again, Akechi just pushes Joker towards effecting that self-sublation a little faster.

By spending time with Joker, Akechi learns that there are people he can truly trust. By spending time with Akechi, Joker learns how to put himself first. Their confidant relationship from this perspective is not only transactional, it’s actually one of the most transactional relationships in the game. Joker actively impacts how Akechi sees himself and the world around him, and vice versa. Their relationship is profoundly transformative for the both of them. To paraphrase Akechi, advancement cannot occur without both thesis and antithesis.

But also, we can forget dialectics for a second. Even without a fun analytical lens, Akechi’s confidant route centers two misunderstood people who find understanding in each other. That’s enough for me!

#persona 5 royal #p5r spoilers #shuake #goro akechi #akiren #time allocation decisions were made today

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mogwaei · 3 months ago

Note

Need more Blackwall-Solas agenda honestly. Like, has anyone taken them anywhere or at least read their banters? They have each other clocked, in a mutual respect kind of way. Like “I see where you’re standing, I’ve been there myself” from Solas about being in battle. Solas tries to give Blackwall a branch, despite his feelings of Grey Wardens. And is understandably blindsided by the fact that Blackwall was lying. Whereas I think should have given Solas some clarity of “Am I not doing the same?” Are they not in the same that people write it off? Solas never outright lies, but he relies on half truths and the assumptions of the people he talks to, and Blackwall is assuming things of the Grey Wardens! Love them both, being complex and so interesting to peel back the layers on, you know?

*ENTHUSIASTIC POINTING*

THEY REALLY DO. I am obsessed with their "veterans of war" tone they take with each other, they sound like such old men reminiscing and Solas gets to sort of let loose with Blackwall in a way he doesn't with anyone else. Actually, every companion technically gets to experience a special facet of Solas, and this one just happens to be War and Lying About One's Identity. Now that we know that war is what broke Solas (I feel like that was evident before Veilguard), in hindsight his talks with Blackwall weigh even heavier because he was probably one of the first people that he got to talk about war with since waking up. I imagine they had more conversations off screen (I would have loved to sit in on those Diamondback games)!!

@championofthefade reblogged my last ask and added something delicious about both, so I'll paraphrase a couple things below.

Like you (anon) said, Solas gets away with half-truths "I saw it in the Fade" or using stories or whatever to explain away things he witnessed. Solas is a gods-damned truthmancer, bending and shaping it masterfully. But then when he's forced to lie usually because he was backed into a corner, it's SO BAD and it's hilarious because he actually gets mad (probably at himself) trying to backpedal skfhkjf

Blackwall fudges Super Secret Warden knowledge in a way that is hard to parse as truth or lie, even if you've played the past games. I haven't looked at his dialogue in a hot minute but I don't even think his "lies" about the Wardens are even untrue? lmao I think he gets lucky with it (but don't quote me on that). MOVING ONTO THE NEXT BIT: Blackwall doesn't lie about himself or his past!!! Not really. IT'S SO IMPORTANT. Just like Solas, he sort of dances around with the truth. I feel like he leans more toward lying than Solas does and he's a little worse at it (his "sensing" darkspawn is fucking hilarious) but ultimately he's an honest liar with good intentions.

oh oh and then my other favourite thing is that Blackwall confesses and drops his mask, which is what Solas wants to do SO BADLY, and I like to think that's just another thing that really fucks him up inside.

yeah I'm normal about them.

:')

#mogwaei.txts #sorry if none of that makes any sense LOL I'm trying to be coherent #me: solas good. blackwall good. make me into a sandwich.

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chaaistained · 4 months ago

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I DIDN'T KNOW THAT U HAVE A SMALLVILLE DR AND NOW I MUST KNOW EVERYTHING!!! so ⚡️,🕷️,🎙️ for layla's superhero ask game!!! (feel free to infodump as much as u want!!!!)

AHH HI MACK aksjdjfjskd babe my SMALLVILLE DR is such a work in progress it’s not even funny but i’m gonna use this as an opportunity to share what i’ve scripted and also script some more

anyway i’m glad you’re interested!! thank you for the ask my love ≈

⚡️ : LUCKY LIGHTNING BOLT . . . what city do you protect? gotham like batman? central city like the flash? queens like spider-man? or maybe your own city?

i live in Delta City (this city is canon in dc but it’s in an unknown location so i’m scripting that it’s in between star city and metropolis). there’s some lore behind why i’m in america bcs i’m not gonna make myself american if i can help it, australian all the way . even though we’re not that much better .. but initially i wasn’t technically a hero, i was just out for my own goals and my own missions — the case i was tracking led me to the states and i settled in delta city to continue my investigations. finally, instead of moving back home, i choose to stay in delta bcs there’s more for me to do, there’s more i can accomplish, especially being so close to the makeshift team created by oliver and clark aka smallville’s version of the justice league

i chose delta city not only because it’s an unknown city to main canon and therefore i can headcanon the crap out of it, but the word “delta” means change (in spirituality), and in mathematics and science, the delta symbol ( Δ ) means the same thing . i figured it worked well paired up with my superhero identity being Anima — a vixen variant aka a spiritual shapeshifter taking on the powers and abilities of the entire animal kingdom (i know vixen exists and has a rich background within african culture but i love her powers and since she doesn’t appear in smallville canon aside from lois using her name during her ring fighter era i took my own spin on her origin — basically making it based off indian and hindu culture instead bcs . that’s what i am..)

fun fact : anima in latin means “the inner self/the soul” and is associated with goddesses like aphrodite, selene, persephone, hecate. it talks of the “soul life” and is “the inner personality that is turned toward the unconscious of the individual” which i think fits well considering my power is looking inward and connecting with the animal that i channel through my amulet

🕷 : SLATE SPIDER . . . what is your hero insignia? what symbol do people know you by? what does your hero suit look like? who created / designed it? what is your color scheme?

my insignia is a simple design that resembles a fox head/flower

it’s was designed by oliver queen, who also made my suit for me (i’m currently working on the mask..)

the logo is not only a nod to vixen (who i based my alter ego off of) but it also looks like a flower to match the design of my totem/amulet that holds the power of my abilities, passed down in my family :

i chose a lotus because it links back to the vixen lore that i rewrote for anima to fit my cultural and religious background (which i will explain in a dr intro post so look forward!!) but i’ll give you a little teaser — my family has connections to ancient supernatural beings who, millenniums ago, were in service of the gods. they were generally benevolent but could also be murderous, depending on circumstances. these beings also lived in lush forests and mountains or near large bodies of water, really connected to nature and are associated with natural elements. but most importantly, they were best known for their magic as they were powerful magicians and their shape shifting abilities . one of the objects in nature that represent them is a lotus

🎙️ : SOLEMN STUDIO MICROPHONE . . . how does the media in your desired reality portray you? are they in favor of your supersona or do they think you are a menace?

truth be told the media doesn’t know much about me, i’m a mystery to be very honest. not really an urban legend or anything to that degree. the locals don’t know me by my name, honestly not a lot of people do, just my teammates because we need codenames to communicate. the knowledge of my existence is usually “that freaky superhero chick that helped me out that one time” (which is how the locals know me) but other than that, i’m mainly known by those in power, those who are corrupt, those that i target — i don’t make life easy for them so they make it their mission to learn about me , which proves to be a challenge but they can’t go to the media about it lest they give themselves away — so for that reason, the media knows me as the odd vigilante hero that has a plethora of powers from flying to super strength and speed but never at the same time?? and she has this terrifying ability of controlling and commanding the animals in delta city (or any animal around her to be precise) . so yeah, the narrative around me isn’t necessarily positive but it isn’t negative either, it’s just a shroud of intrigue and lowkey intimidation

[ ask game link ]

cuppa queries; order in — ask responses

#by chaaistained #chaai chats ≈#THANK YOU FOR THE ASK MACK #this dr is such a wip but this really REALLY motivated me to work on it more #for youuu #chaai loves » mack ✿#ask games xx #smallville dr #smallville shifting #dc dr #dc shifting

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the-skybrary · 1 year ago

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Our head protector, Raph, wanted to make a comic documenting some of his personal experiences, since he's a unique case to our system. Part of it was to vent and get the thoughts out of his head, but mostly he just wanted to send a positive message out into the community. We hope it finds you well.

Transcript of the dialogue below the cut:

I’m not like everyone else here. Most of this system is made up of various versions of the core, and they all look like some alternative of the body. A sporty version, a goth version, a punk version, a motherly version. But all of them are her in some way, shape, or form.

There are some fictives here, too, of course. The ratio is about 4:1 though. A majority of the fictives have little to no source memories. They aren’t exactly who they’re based on, they’re their own individual, and they are able to separate themselves from their source.

I can’t. I’m an outlier here.

I have pseudo memories. I remember a life before I came here, and that makes things complicated. Especially because I have a very important job to do.

As a protector, I stand by to help us through everything we’re going through externally. I have experience with dealing in heavy survival-mode situations, and that’s why I believe I was chosen to be here. But…it also means I ended up being given a lot of trauma memories from the body to hold onto, in addition to my own.

I’ve made my peace with my role here. I like it, actually. I have a partner, and a family, unique to this system. I have friends, and I’ve even been able to meet and talk to my source family in other systems.

Although I can’t ignore the way I feel sometimes, living in a body…in a life…that is not my own.

I can’t ignore the real emotions I experience when my source updates. Seeing my family in distress or danger, and being unable to do anything to help causes me intense anxiety. Sometimes if body is having a bad day, the memories will sneak up on me. Other times we’ll see a part reblogged and it will trigger an intense emotion. Sometimes it gets so bad that it affects the entire body and system even when I’m not at front.

I would like to clarify, though, that I’ve never blamed the artist/creator for any of that. As a matter of fact, I think I lucked out with Cass’s Apocalyptic Series being my source. They’re good to me, to my story, and my family. It’s just hard some days, being able to see your life laid out like that to the world.

I feel like a river that was once whole, and then forked to become two. Suddenly I’m going in a different direction, and the path is unfamiliar. I’m me, but I’m not him. I’m us, but I’m not her. I have both memories from source and from body, and it makes me feel…wrong.

I don’t belong here. I can’t mask well. I don’t know how to walk in a body this small. My voice is too feminine when I speak. Being without a shell makes me feel naked, even with clothes on. My claws and strength are gone. All of it is just reminder after reminder that I’m not truly Raph anymore. If I ever even was. ‘Pseudo’ means ‘false’. Fake. Pretend. Unreal.

But I’m Real. The me that exists here and now is real. I eat, I dance, I have hobbies and favorite TV shows. I talk to people in our life, and I form unique relationships with them. I exist. I am a part of this system, and that in turn makes Raph real.

I can’t explain why I have memories and emotions linked to my source. I can’t explain why I formed so differently than the others here. I’m struggling with my identity as I try to balance my job as a system protector with my place in the Outside World, and it’s a lot. Some days I feel stupid and ashamed. Some days I feel okay with it. Some days I don’t care.

I don’t think there’s a right or wrong way to be an alter in a system, no matter what your relationship is to that source, or even based on what your source is! You’ll figure out your own answers with time. They may not be easy answers, and they might make certain things difficult, but I think the most important thing is how you choose to move forward with it all.

We have a saying in my family: Antawa Hitorijani. I guess I just wanted to let you know, if you’re out there and you relate to any of this, that you are not alone. And that I’m not alone either. None of us are.

~ Raph

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fxoye2 · 7 months ago

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If you could do another reboot of TOS (not SNW, like something entirely new like AOS) where you could reinterpret the forming and the characters of the senior Enterprise bridge crew, and Jim and Spock, how would you do it?

OH WOW ANON, you’ve just thrown the ultimate question my way and I’m already vibrating with ideas. If I could do a complete reboot of TOS, like an entirely new interpretation of the senior bridge crew and, of course, Jim and Spock (because they are the centerpiece of my SOUL), we’re talking reimagining everything from their personalities to their dynamics… OKAY, LET'S GO. Prepare yourself. This might get chaotic.

First off, we’re keeping the essence of who these characters are. I’m not gonna go wild and give Kirk a goth phase or make Spock suddenly super emotionally expressive. But I would LOVE to explore more layers in a fresh, modern way, making sure we don’t lose their core traits while digging into deeper stuff.

JIM KIRK: THE HUMAN DISASTER BUT MAKE IT MODERN

Okay, so Jim Kirk. He’s still gonna be that cocky, brilliant, insanely hot mess, but we’re diving deeper into his psyche right from the start. Like, we’re not gonna hide the fact that he’s battling a ton of inner demons. I’m talking about fleshing out the "Kirk Gambit" right from the beginning—a guy who feels like he has to prove himself constantly because he’s so young, so brilliant, but so insecure that he masks it all with bravado. And unlike AOS, we’re not just gonna see him be “the reckless one who learns responsibility.” We’re gonna get a lot more of the loneliness of command, the way it weighs on him to keep everyone alive. He’s always got that charming swagger, but you’ll also see him in his quarters late at night, dealing with his own trauma, regrets, and fears.

Think about how cool it would be if this Kirk is always playing chess against himself—both literally (because, you know, it's Kirk) and metaphorically. Always strategizing, always three steps ahead but secretly always wondering if he’s one move away from losing it all.

SPOCK: BRING ON THE VULCAN ANGST

Spock stays Spock—Vulcan logical AF—but we’re cranking up the identity crisis right out of the gate. I’d want to really dig into the push and pull of his human side and Vulcan side, but in a way that’s a bit more raw. Like, I want Spock who struggles with the discomfort of being different, not in the “I’m an outcast” way but in the “I’ve been at war with myself for years, and I don’t know if I’ll ever fully reconcile this.” He’s gonna be this walking contradiction that’s super controlled on the surface but you know there’s this insane storm brewing underneath.

AND GUYS. The Vulcan Mind Meld? Oh, we’re using that way more in this reboot to really dig into the whole Vulcan telepathy angle. There are SO many emotional ramifications of Spock’s abilities that TOS barely scratched the surface on. We’ll see him accidentally connect with someone’s mind (KIRK) and then have to deal with the fallout of feeling things he was NEVER meant to feel. Gimme all the Vulcan psychic angst.

Oh, and because this is a reboot, I’m adding more Vulcan rituals. Give me Spock taking part in some ancient telepathic ceremony where he has to confront the darker sides of himself. Maybe that’s what pushes him to finally embrace who he is, or, you know, bring him closer to Jim because Jim’s gonna be like, “You don’t have to be perfect, Spock. I like the messy parts too.” <3

KIRK AND SPOCK: THE SLOWEST SLOW BURN OF ALL TIME

Can you tell I’m obsessed with their relationship yet? Because I am. And in this reboot? We are going FULL SLOW BURN here, people. I’m talking years of UST (unresolved sexual tension), a relationship that evolves from pure professionalism, to friendship, to “oh shit, we’re soulmates.” I want them to be T’hy’la in the truest sense of the word, but we’re not rushing it. Oh no. This reboot will give us glimpses of their bond right from the start—tiny moments where Kirk and Spock are just a bit too close for comfort, where they’re so in sync it’s almost creepy, and neither of them really acknowledges it at first because they’re both in denial.

And when they finally get there? CHEF’S KISS. It’s gonna be like the climax of everything the whole show has been building towards. But not in a “kiss and roll the credits” way. No, no. We’re doing years of emotional build-up before they even touch. And when they finally do? OH BOY. The fandom’s going to lose their collective minds. Like, Spock finally opening up fully through a mind meld and Jim realizing, “Oh my god, it’s always been you,” in a way that will make EVERYONE cry.

Also, no love triangles. Sorry Uhura, love you girl, but let’s focus on besties dynamics here and leave Spock and Jim to figure it out.

THE BRIDGE CREW: ALL THE FOUND FAMILY VIBES

Now, let’s talk about the rest of the crew, because they’re vital to the whole thing. My reboot would make them even more of a found family.

McCoy: He’s still gonna be that grumpy, Southern, snarky doctor we love, but in this reboot, we’re getting even more of the grief he carries. His divorce? We’re seeing the emotional toll. The reason he became a doctor in the first place? Maybe we’ll explore some flashbacks to a past trauma that still haunts him. And OH, the banter with Spock stays, but I want McCoy to be Kirk’s emotional anchor. Like, McCoy knows when Jim’s close to burning out and pulls him back.

Uhura: We’re giving her more depth, more screen time, more agency. She’s gonna be a linguistic badass (as she should be) but also play a key role in away missions and espionage-type plots. Oh, and she’ll be the team’s moral compass, always pushing Kirk and the crew to make the right choices when it comes to diplomacy.

Scotty: Still the miracle worker, but I’d love to explore his personal life a bit more. Maybe give him a backstory that involves some loss, something that explains why he’s married to the Enterprise (maybe a ship saved him in his past?). Also, can we have some shenanigans with him trying to teach Kirk how to handle the ship’s tech? Because we all know Kirk doesn’t listen.

Sulu: MORE SWORD FIGHTING, because why the hell not? I’d also love to give him a subplot where he’s torn between his duties as a pilot and a personal dream he had before joining Starfleet. Let’s see him grapple with what it means to serve on the ship while having to put aside parts of himself.

Chekov: MY BABY. Let’s lean into his prodigy status, but also, let’s see him struggle with imposter syndrome. He’s so young and brilliant, but what does that kind of pressure do to a guy?

OVERALL TONE: SPACE OPERA MEETS CHARACTER-DRIVEN CHAOS

The tone of this reboot would still be fun—plenty of space action, weird planets, alien diplomacy—but it’s gonna be a character-driven story at its core. It’ll dive into the emotional and psychological cost of space exploration. What does it mean to constantly be at the frontier? How does that affect the people who put their lives on the line every day? I want those high-stakes missions, but I also want to see how those missions change the crew—how they rely on each other to cope, and how their bonds deepen with every near-death experience.

Basically, I want a perfect blend of cosmic adventure and intimate character study, with enough Spirk subtext to drown a starship. Because why not?

…Okay, I should stop before this turns into a 12-page treatment for a script no one asked for, BUT ANON, I’m so glad you made me think about this because now I’m itching to see this reboot happen. Come on, Paramount, CALL ME. 😤

#ask #ideas #writing prompts #star trek #tos #reboot

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kandywantstobeheard · 2 months ago

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We all hear it all the time:

‘They’re just doing it for attention!’

Or:

‘What an attention whore!’

Or other statements that demonize a person who wants to be noticed. Who wants friends. Who Wants someone to care about them, or spend time with them.

I was raised by a parent who now admits that they have spent their whole life terrified of being noticed. She spent my entire childhood telling me to shut up and sit down because if I stood out, that was her being noticed by proxy.

I have only recently started to understand how much my own childhood damaged me. And as part of my healing process, my therapist has encouraged me to embrace the fact: I am an attention whore.

I feel like I need an anonymous meeting.

I went to an ACOA meeting once. I spent the whole time crying. Walked out with a book that could rival any religious text in length and complexity. The references to religion were very off putting. I don’t plan to return.

Tangent but anyways…

I tend to use my sexual appeal and identity to garner attention from people. I’ve done it my whole life. As soon as I realized I had sexual appeal. I spent my highschool years throwing myself at anyone that showed the slightest bit of interest. Then married the first person who asked. I am lucky to say I ended up with a good man, who I am still with today. Not everyone in that situation ends up so lucky.

I have spent most of my life trying to buy the attention of others in one way or another. Most of my close friendships have been extremely one sided. I gave people rides, bought them food, drinks, or tickets to things, lent them money. Helped them move. Brought them coffee when they were sad.

I have a lot in my life now. I have blossomed over the last several years. I don’t even recognize the person in the mirror. I put on an iron clad mask of self confidence, and refuse to show that deep inside…. I truly feel alone more often than I don’t.

I want people in my life who give back to me the same energy I invest in them. Be that romantic interests, friends, play partners whatever. I want people in my life who want to have spontaneous plans. People who don’t just say ‘I have to get up early’ or ‘it’s too much work to put on pants’

People who want to drop by just for a bit because they were in the neighborhood.

People who bring me coffee.

People who show up for me and ask me how I’m doing when they know I’m having a hard time.

I do these things for the people in my life. I always have. But I rarely find this in return.

Some people are very busy, oversaturated, overstimulated, overworked, depressed, have chronic illnesses, I completely understand. Others enjoy their alone time, or have other commitments. I’m not trying to complain about absolutely anyone. I have lots of wonderful friends, and 2 amazing partners. They make my life beautiful and worthwhile.

But sometimes I want that type of connection where I feel like someone thinks about me even when I’m not there. The type where texting intermittently all day long is a normal occurrence. Where they hate being alone just as much as I do, so we hang out as much as we can (around work, partners, plans, ect) . I want us to support each other and lift each other up. Plan our birthdays together. Help each other with our goals and dreams. Be excited about each other and for each other.

I want a best friend. The kind I’ve never had before. Maybe that will fill my constant need for attention.

#attention seeking #need friends #empathy

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tempestgnostic · 2 years ago

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i want to write an essay at some point about the parallels between my phantom shifts in terms of my gender and my alterhumanity, but specifically from the perspective of why most ‘gear’ makes me incredibly dysphoric or feel more distant from my body. for now i’ll just detail some thoughts on the matter.

so i have, over the years, never learned my lesson that packers don’t actually make me feel gender euphoria—even the one i got that has a sheath and everything, that should make me feel more akin to who i am. i think it’s because i’ve gotten so used to the visceral, weighty experiences i have with phantom appendages already. i know what those body parts feel like, and i can interact with them almost as if they are. explicit anatomy and sex discussions beneath the cut.

like, it’s not just about ‘jacking off’ what is essentially empty space between my legs. i know every bit of anatomy intimately, from tip to base. it’s, weirdly, how i was able to give great head to my ex, despite it being my first time. with zero instruction on the subject, i knew what would feel good—and, if i’m being frank, she wholeheartedly agreed. and it’s way more satisfying for me to just manipulate those phantom parts versus having something there. and i even have a toy that you can put a T-dick into and jack it off that way! i’ve used it before, and it’s fun! but something about the physicality of it brings me into a space where i realize it doesn’t ‘click’ with me.

there are incredible studies out there about the use of prosthetics and how, for some folks, their brain begins to ‘inhabit’ them in a way that is incredibly profound. their brain integrates the prosthetic into the body map. it is a part of their body the second they identify it as such, of course. it’s just really neat how the brain agrees and works to cement that fact within itself. for me, i think the infrequency of my use probably contributes. the really good genital prosthetics are super expensive, and i’m not sure if i could handle the cost, the maintenance, all of that. maybe someday.

but i feel the same about phantom shifts. sure, i have a badass leather dog mask, but it doesn’t feel like me when i put it on. it feels like a mask. and when i’m in a shift, it feels like a mask superimposed over an actual muzzle that feels way more real to me. my identity, both as a trans person and as an alterhuman, is extremely sensory for me. i suspect being autistic plays a huge role as well; i need to have my hair stroked gently, to have somebody run their fingernails over the fur on the back of my neck, or kiss me and tell me how soft my beard is. i need to be pressed up against someone after sex, ‘locked’ in place even when there’s no knot there, not even a toy, just the sensory experience that both of us can feel. (i’ve had two sexual partners, independent of each other, tell me that they explicitly felt like i was locked inside them, and i hadn’t even told one of them that this is how i see my body.)

to have someone else who can feel that anatomy the way that i do? that’s the greatest gender and species euphoria i have ever felt, bar none. i felt so connected to my body—to my partner’s body—in those moments. that feeling was greater than any orgasm i’ve ever had, and that radiant euphoria is why i’m desperate for more of that feeling. i mean, hell—i can give myself an earth-shattering orgasm any time i want. i regularly feel like i’m turning time and space sideways and seeing the face of god. that’s easy. but the need that sex fulfills for me, really and truly, is the need to feel like myself—so much so that my partner feels it, too, and loves what they feel from me.

#erokin #alterhuman essays #species euphoria

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markofamaestroofficial · 1 year ago

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For Love and Acceptance, and Kindness To and For All: A Christian Essay & The World’s Wake-Up Call

By Maestro

Greetings and salutations, everyone. My name is Maestro. I am a Christian, Autistic, Queer cisgender man, and I am so angry at how the world is right now. First off, so many people are so gosh darn repressed right now. They can’t be themselves freely due to how society treats them, judges them, and, in some cases, harms them for being who they are when being who you are does not harm anyone. Granted, if you are harming someone, that’s a whole ‘nother issue. If you are, you need to seriously reflect on yourself and what issues are causing you to act like a jerk to people just trying to live their lives. I would recommend therapy. That’s another tangent for later in this essay. Trust me. We will get there.

Going back to where we started, I have been masking for most of my life. What is masking, you ask? Imagine you take a core part of yourself and push it way down. Some folks, like me, pushed it so far that that we don’t even feel and recognize that we are, in fact, suppressing ourselves. And that is so harmful especially for us Autistic folks, even if you don’t understand it. As a matter of fact, this sort of masking has caused me, and so many other Autistic folks so much trauma. The fact that me and so many other people, whether they be Autistic, part of the LGBTQ+ community, or anyone who society doesn’t understand and doesn’t make an effort to understand are ostracized just for bein’ who they are NEEDS to change.

Every single one of us is a creation of the Lord, no matter if they don’t fit into society’s mold. The fact that we even need to hide who we are and our identities, when it doesn’t even harm anyone- especially when doing the opposite and loving ourselves for who we are and having people around us who do the same is so freeing and helps us to finally love ourselves and feel free to be boldly us and happy. Doing so doesn’t hurt anyone, our actions to cause harm and repress people for being the wonderful person The Lord made them to be is what hurts people. Granted, if who you are is someone who does want to harm people, you need to, as I’ve stated, take a serious look inward. Why do you feel this way? What are you feeling inside that drives you to hurt and judge other people just for being who they are? Why, why do you want to lash out at other people like this? And if you hear this and feel rage building up inside of you, ask yourself this. Why are you feeling this way? Self-hatred? Anger towards something really bad that you had to endure in the past? Whatever the root cause, your feelings are valid. I get it. I have experienced so much self-hatred towards myself for my entire life without even realizing it until recently, and It really sucks. Darn, does it suck.

However, your feelings do not give you justification to hurt people, say things, and act in ways that make others feel like they can’t be who they are. Especially seeing as, as I’ve stated, being yourself doesn’t harm anyone. What harms people is taking actions that harm others and not treating them with kindness, love, and respect. And if you read this and feel that sense of rage building up inside you, ask yourself why. What is it that bothers you about hearing that I want people to finally be able to be accepted and loved for who they are, be who they are freely if it isn’t hurting anyone, for wars to finally end, and for people to finally stop hurting each other and finally be kind, loving, and supportive to every person on earth, regardless of our differences and what society deems as flawed when simply being who you are doesn’t harm anyone? Like I said, it’s our harmful actions that hurt people, not being who we are. Because I’m sick of masking who I am and not being able to be the fierce, loving, compassionate, justice-oriented individual that I am just because of how the world treats people who are different and treating us like we’re less than. We are not. We are just as fully people and in our own ways as everyone else is, and we need to start treating people as such. We need to start listening and believing what Jesus and The Lord taught us: love one another as ourselves and pay no one back evil for evil. We haven’t been doing that as a collective people nearly to the degree that we should, and that needs to stop. I repeat. The hate NEEDS to stop. It needs to finally end.

Whether they be neurodivergent, LGBTQ+, what have you, we have a duty as The Lord our God’s creation to love people as ourselves and pay no one back evil for evil. And by no one, I mean no one. Jesus called for us to love one another as ourselves, regardless of their flaws and the painful, messy parts of themselves, such as the trauma each of us has faced. And what have we done? Prevented people who desire get into relationships outside of the hetero norm, like myself, from marrying and being in love with who they choose and what feels right for them because of misconceptions. We ostracize Autistic people, like myself, for stimming and fidgeting and self-regulating in a way that just helps them feel better in a world that oftentimes, time and time again, treats us like we’re weird, broken, and infantilizes us like we’re helpless children that aren’t competent, capable, wonderful human beings, just like everyone else is. The reality is that we are the opposite. We are people who just as beautiful, wonderful, capable, and beautiful ourselves like every single person on this planet should be. We also go to war and terrorize, hurt, and kill people in order to solve human conflicts. The fact that that even happens in the first place is so gosh darn screwed up that it makes me sick.

I am sick of people hurting each other and not allowing people to just be themselves and love whoever they feel in their hearts of hearts that they love when it doesn’t harm anyone just because much of society is so gosh darn hateful. And, yet again, if you read this and feel that feeling of rage bubbling up inside of you- like I’ve said, ask yourself why. Take a deep look inward and ask yourself why you are so upset at me for telling people that we need to stop harming each other and finally, finally love each other for being the wonderful people The Lord our God created them to be. Whatever the reason, as I’ve already stated multiple times, whether it be self-hatred, pain that you experienced in your past, what have you, it does not, in any way, shape, or form, give you or any single individual anywhere to ever exist, who exists now, or who will exist the excuse or right to cause harm to or repress anyone for any reason when they’re just bein’ who they are and not hurting anyone.

As I’ve finally stated so many times over the course of this essay, we need to be better and kinder as a society. Heck, as a world and human race. Do you know the power that simply including someone has to impact a person, in the best way possible? Simply asking someone how they’re doing, if they can sit with you for a meal, showing them your favorite thing that you love, inviting them to hang out and finally be included by a honest to goodness, true friend that accepts them, includes them, and loves them for who they truly are can save a persons life- both emotionally, and sometimes, literally. I know, at least for me, if I was just included in things and had more friends earlier on, especially during my childhood, that actually loved me for me and not the mask that I put on for pretty much all of my life, my pain that I’ve been repressing for pretty much my whole life and caused me so much self-hatred would likely be filled with so much upfront joy and confidence. That is why the world needs to change. We need to be able to feel that way about ourselves and finally love each other as ourselves like what Jesus told us to do, since we, and I mean every sing one of us who has lived, does live, and will ever live in the future, are The Lord’s creation, and The Lord loves us for who we are, regardless of all the flaws we have inside of ourselves. As Jesus said, “A new command I give you: Love one another. As I have loved you, so you must love one another.” (John 13:34). Praise Jesus. Amen.

#Essay #lgbtqia #Autism #Social change #I'd rather be me #Queer #Love #stop the hate #love each other #praise jesus #christianity #the hate needs to stop #let love prevail #be who you are #be who you want to be

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