#Deep Rivers Society

[waterpixelart]

neo twewy DS edition: Kanon, Motoi and Fuya I plan on making sprites like these for all characters from neo twewy.

[zero-on-the-clocktower]

I love how I’ve made my Discord status nigh imparsable for anyone who isn’t my one friend who knows both Milgram and Neo TWEWY.

[vilmublue]

R.I.P. Deep Rivers Society guy.

Fun NTWEWY fact: Just as how the Purehearts and Variabeauties had Sumio and Maito respectively as direct assistants for their team leaders, the Deep Rivers Society also had a right hand man for Fuya but he isn't named.

On W1D5 at the end of the scramble slam, these three specifically show up to face down the Wicked Twisters. We learn later that the top two are the second-in-command guys for the Purehearts and Variabeauties, and although the guy at the bottom never gets properly named or introduced like Sumio or Maito, we can get from context that he probably fills the same role for the DRS.

This is further supported by how in just the day prior when the Wicked Twisters kick DRS's ass and Fuya has a breakdown, it's that guy specifically who shows up to report to Fuya and try to give him some consolation.

Anyways I'm mad this guy never gets a name and that he's not a part of the Social Network as a result LOL. Sumio and Maito are underrated enough as it is but shout out to this unnamed guy with exactly 2 scenes

[bluntforcefem]

my fuya post makes the rounds again every few months and every time im like "god. fuck. ntwewy really said fuck those guys"

[therealnagiusui]

Fuya has played ace attorney.

[winterprince601]

the best thing about jon and sam's friendship is that aside from their core shared identity of being alienated within a classist patriarchal society, they have Nothing in common. sam spends the whole first jon chapter of acok nerding out over the sociopolitical signifance of a bunch of old maps and jon's response is "litcherally why does it matter as long as the rivers are in the same place, you sweet fool" they're like the medieval equivalent of nerd who likes lotr and jock who likes evanescence forming a deep affection on the basis of no one else understanding them.

[cupidlovesastro]

𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐨𝐥𝐨𝐠𝐲 𝐨𝐛𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐯𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬 #𝟏𝟓 (𝐡𝐢𝐩𝐩𝐢𝐞 𝐞𝐝𝐢𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧)

earth sun, moon, venus, or dominant people can have a love for nature as a whole, the animals, the plants, the sky, etc

water sun, moon venus, or dominant people have an attraction to lakes, rivers, oceans, ponds, rain, etc. they may even have a love for sea animals

fire sun, moon, venus, or dominant’s love the sun, summer time, drier weather, lava, campfires, etc

air sun, moon, venus, or dominant’s love the air, the sky, clouds, the stars, space, birds, butterflies, moths, etc

sagittarius in big 6 or stellium individuals are very free spirited and love being adventurous. they are very open minded and try to hear all perspectives

aquarius in big 6 or stellium people have a need for freedom and independence. they don’t like being tied down or held back

inner planets in the 6th house or 6h stelliums can have a love for animals and living creatures in general

uranus in the 1h means you are openly rebellious and go against the societal stereotypes. you question the rules and push boundaries while also being humanitarians

taurus in 2h can shows that you value the physical things in life. taurus is also an earth sign, meaning you enjoy the feelings of grass, the sound of the water, the smell of flower, etc

venus in 2h means that you value music, love, peace, and harmony

venus in 11h can show that you enjoy being around groups of people who share a love for the desire of peace, love, and music

uranus in 9h means that you go against the culture, the worlds views, and beliefs

aquarius moons/ uranus aspecting moon people find comfort through the rebellion and change

aquarius mars/ uranus aspecting mars people have a deep passion for change, especially when it comes to betterment of society. they are willing to take the risk if it means creating a difference

𝐰𝐨𝐨𝐝𝐬𝐭𝐨𝐜𝐤

8h stellium- lots of sexual activity happening, people feeling deeply connected, dark things happening

8h sun- one of the thing that woodstock is notoriously known for at its core, is the amount of people engaging in sexual activities

uranus is 9h- going against social norms, the law, religions, the american culture at that time

mars in 11h- groups of people being aggressive, sexual, violent. also passion about their hopes, dreams, wishes, and the future

neptune in 11h- idealizing the idea of people being all together and groups of people being delusional and easily impressionable

pluto in 8h- lots of karmic energy, people wanting sexual power fama conjunct eros- famous for sexual activity

jupiter conjunct uranus- large amounts of rebellion, lots of unpredictable behavior/events, growth through change

mercury sextile venus- communicating love, peace, and harmony instead of war

makemake conjunct sun- woodstock was made to make a change to the idea of war and violence and was known as an attempt to protect the environment and idea of peace

vesta conjunct venus- love, music, harmony, was what kept people going during woodstock. they were devoted to their beliefs of peace

fama conjunct venus- famous for being about music, love, peace, harmony, etc

makemake opposite karma- although wood stock was an attempt to restore and maintain peace. it took a turn for the worse and lead to many horrible incidents

[alicedrawslesmis]

(sorry this is from a week ago but) Wait, what's going on right now that's complicated with Amazonian farmers' land rights?

Not farmers, indigenous people

See, recently they put a new law through congress that severely reduces indigenous land to the borders established during the late dictatorship, or immediately post-dictatorship, in 1988. An absolute joke of a border that was dreamed up by some military assholes. People in america may recognize this type of society from the times of westward expansion and think this is a thing of the past because for you guys it is. But here it is a reality. Murder is rampant. The reach of the law is incredibly limited. Government is just too weak and landowners basically run things. THAT'S WHY it's so important to donate directly to the native peoples instead of random NGOs because native people are fucking there and the more power they hold in the land the safer the land will be from agroindustrial expansion.

Well the law was vetoed by the the president and the Supremo Tribunal Federal, aka supreme federal court, labeled it as unconstitutional. Which it is, because our 1988 constitution describes native american land rights in some of its first articles. We thought this would be it for the law

But then the senate (that already overrepresents landowners in rural states) just went along and approved it anyway. I had no idea they could approve something unconstitutional. The progressives and particularly the socialists are fighting this in court. But it happens that for now the legal border is the severely reduced version.

Doesn't mean they'll just give up, because as it happens we don't have any stand your ground laws so even if you own a piece of land, you cannot legally speaking just shoot everyone there. Or attack or threaten them in any way. They'll just have long legal battles individually for the rights to occupy land based on use. Also the Xingu national park, the largest preserved land of the Amazon described as 'larger than Belgium', is being encroached by huge farms that are poisoning their water supply. The border is Visible. I'll try to find video of it but essentially you have a forest and a desert separated by a strict line.

Just last week in the south of Bahia (not the Amazon, let me explain more about the Amazon situation in a bit) Hãhãhãe leadership Nega Muniz Pataxó was shot and killed by an armed militia group that invaded and occupied the Caramuru territory.

View this post on Instagram

A post shared by SOMOS PATAXÓ HÃHÃHÃE (@somoshahahai)

The situation in the Amazon, specifically the yanomami territory in Roraima our northernmost state, aka deep forest, is more dire than average given difficulty of access, sheer size, and government abandonment. It's a place that depends on government aid for medicine. It's land that is being systematically invaded by gold miners, pandemic, toxins from nearby farmlands, wood extraction etc. (wood extration is rampant everywhere tho). Early 2023 saw a massive federal government operation by now president Lula to empty the mines and try to look for where funding comes from. Yanomami land is still being invaded to this day, the struggle is ongoing.

The yanomamis need support right now more than any other. Last year saw a massive heat wave that (well, one, caused a girl named Ana Clara Machado to die during the Taylor Swift concert. This is unrelated but I feel like not enough foreign media covered this, Taylor even lied about it as well.) dried up a lot of rivers, killed a LOT of fresh water animals including an unprecedented amount of pink dolphins. Access that was already hard became damn near impossible without boats. I cannot overstate how many pink dolphins were found dead.

Another technique that landowners use to clear space for farms is to just set things on fire and then occupy the empty land, which they legally can do to land that was naturally burned in a forest fire. It happened that Pantanal, another national park of swampland, was massively devastated by fires last year too

this article is from 2020, the year that the worst fire happened, but in 2023 there was another one. It's been happening yearly now due to a) deliberate action and b) climate change aggravation.

And this is not nearly all. Just off the top of my head. If you speak portuguese I recommend following the APIB or the COIAB on instagram to keep up with the news. The FUNAI is the government branch of indigenous organization, but it's not generally that well liked. Still.

[ijustmissyouraccenths]

I Want To Kill Her

Au where Y/N and Harry are neighbors who find out their spouses are cheating with each other.

Based off Fortnight by Taylor Swift

Part 2

CW: Smut, cursing, unprotected sex, slight breeding kink.

Word Count: 6,773

Growing up in America was a constant uphill battle for me. Every day, my family's lower middle class status weighed heavily on our shoulders, dragging us down and suffocating any sense of hope. Despite my parents' relentless efforts, we were always one step away from financial ruin. At school, I was painfully reminded of my economic disadvantage as I trudged through the halls in threadbare clothes and drove up in a battered car that served as a target for cruel jokes and vicious teasing from my more privileged peers. But amidst the constant struggle, I found refuge in my studies. The world of academia offered a fleeting escape from the harsh realities of my daily life, where I poured all my energy into excelling and proving my worth to a society that seemed determined to keep me down.

Life in our small town was like a broken record, repeating the same monotonous routine day after day. That is, until Teddy waltzed into our midst like a breath of fresh air. His tall frame stood out amongst the sea of ordinary faces, and his crisp British accent was music to our ears. The local coffee shop suddenly became a buzz of excitement as he charmed everyone with his wit and sophistication. And when he extended an invitation for me to join him in London, it was like a fairytale come to life. Leaving my predictable life behind and starting anew in the bustling city seemed intimidating, but I couldn't resist the allure of adventure and passion that awaited me with Teddy by my side.

My hand shook as I clutched the small, worn suitcase. Tears welled up in my eyes as I said goodbye to my family and familiar life. But deep down, a sense of determination propelled me forward. I took a deep breath and stepped onto the plane bound for London. As the engines roared and the wheels lifted off the ground, a knot formed in my stomach and my heart raced with a mix of emotions - fear of the unknown, excitement for new adventures, and anticipation for what lay ahead.

I pressed my forehead against the cool, double-paned window and watched as familiar buildings and streets grew smaller and smaller. A sense of relief washed over me, lifting the weight of my past struggles and hardships with every mile we flew away from them. Little did I know, the journey ahead would be filled with new challenges and lessons that would shape me into the person I was always meant to become.

As we soared higher into the sky, thick clouds began to spread like a blanket over the vast expanse of blue. The world below disappeared from view, hidden by layers of white. But as we descended towards London, small patches of land began to peek through - rolling hills covered in lush green fields and charming villages nestled along winding rivers. My heart fluttered with excitement and curiosity at this glimpse of a foreign land.

The wheels touched down on the runway, jolting me out of my daydreams. I took a deep breath as we taxied towards the terminal, ready to embark on this new chapter of my life in a place that felt both unfamiliar and full of endless possibilities.

The bright lights of London beckoned me, a stark contrast to the small town I left behind. Teddy, my generous host, had spared no expense to make me feel at home in his lavish house. Each morning, I woke up to stunning views of the city skyline through floor-to-ceiling windows. The enticing scent of freshly baked pastries and rich coffee filled my nostrils, reminding me that this was a life of luxury that I never could have imagined.

But what truly amazed me was the fact that I no longer had to work. Teddy's successful business ventures meant that money was no longer a worry for me. This newfound wealth allowed me to indulge in all the things I could only dream about before. My wardrobe was now filled with designer clothes, fancy dinners were a regular occurrence, and luxurious vacations were just a plane ride away.

However, amidst all this extravagance and joy, there was always a twinge of guilt in the back of my mind. Growing up, every penny counted and financial struggles were a constant source of stress for my family. Now, with my newfound wealth, I couldn't help but feel guilty for having so much while others back home still struggled to make ends

I fiercely pushed all doubts and apprehensions aside, determined to fully surrender myself to my newfound life. And by all appearances, I succeeded. Teddy whisked me away on dazzling tours of the city, revealing hidden gems and indulging in the finest cuisine known only to elites. He also opened the door to his elite circle of friends – powerful individuals who radiated confidence and wealth wherever they went.

At first, I felt like a mere observer among them. While they boasted about their latest investments and business ventures, I could only offer anecdotes about my humble beginnings in a small town. But as weeks turned into months, they welcomed me into their exclusive inner circle. They even included us on extravagant trips abroad where we mingled with A-list celebrities and attended VIP events.

I couldn't believe how rapidly my life had transformed since meeting Teddy. Where once I was ridiculed for not fitting in with the wealthy crowd, now I lived among them, basking in their luxurious lifestyle.

But amidst all the glitz and glamour, a persistent voice gnawed at the back of my mind. It started one afternoon while Teddy was tending to the front yard. On the surface, it seemed like an ordinary chore for a homeowner, but something about it felt insidious and unsettling.

Despite the hired help we had to maintain our lavish property, Teddy insisted on taking care of menial tasks himself. At first, I thought it was just his need to be hands-on, but as the days turned into weeks, I couldn't ignore the way his eyes lingered on the woman next door. Every time she stepped outside in her form-fitting gardening attire, he would drop whatever he was doing and watch her with an unbridled hunger. Her movements were like a sensual dance, each step oozing with an irresistible seduction that captivated him. She seemed to know exactly how to entice him, bending over suggestively in her garden while his eyes greedily took in every curve of her body. But when her husband's luxury car pulled into their driveway, she would become a picture of innocence once again. It was a tantalizing game of desire and secrecy, leaving me wondering what they truly did behind closed doors.

Rosie, the woman of the house, was a force to be reckoned with, her love and dedication to her garden rivaling that of a mother's fierce protection for her child. Harry, her husband and successful entrepreneur, exuded a confident aura as he walked through their flourishing gardens, the beauty brand he created known by all as Pleasing. Despite our similar ages, their maturity and put-together appearance made me feel inadequate in comparison. Our own home seemed dull and lifeless in comparison to theirs, always offering an unobstructed view of Rosie's constant tending to her bountiful gardens, a sight that also caught my husband's wandering eyes. But it was impossible to deny the allure of their well-manicured gardens, bursting with vibrant hues and intoxicating scents that enveloped us in a hypnotic trance. 

Each passing week brought a new wave of torment as I watched Teddy's eyes dart towards Rosie's garden, his gaze lingering on her while she tended to her roses. My stomach twisted with jealousy as he made excuses to be outside, his every move calculated to catch her attention.

I couldn't bear the thought of him longing for someone else, and my heart shattered into pieces with each stolen glance towards her. Desperate for answers, I confronted him about their relationship, but he dismissed my fears with a cold indifference and insisted they were just innocent neighbors. But deep down, I knew there was something more between them, and it consumed me with a fiery rage that threatened to consume us all.

As I relaxed in the comfort of my home, the noise from outside suddenly jolted me out of my reverie. My eyes snapped to the window overlooking the busy street below, and there I saw Harry's sleek black Mercedes screeching into their driveway, its engine roaring wildly. Rosie appeared in the doorway, her movements frantic as she planted a forced kiss on his cheek before ushering him inside with an urgency that made my heart race. The door slammed shut behind them, and a foreboding sense of dread settled in my gut as I realized that something was seriously wrong between them. Whatever was happening, they were clearly trying to hide it from prying eyes.

My heart raced with a mix of excitement and dread as I made my way downstairs, my curiosity burning like a wildfire. The front door slammed behind me, the sun setting in a fiery blaze behind my back. My feet carried me across the short distance between our homes, anticipation building with each step. As I approached their front step, muffled voices drifted through the open window above me, a sinister soundtrack to my racing thoughts. I could make out Harry's tense tone and Rosie's pleading replies, but not the words themselves. Their hushed argument went on for what seemed like an eternity before falling silent, leaving me standing frozen in shock. My mind raced as I tried to piece together what was happening. Had my suspicions been correct after all? Were Rosie and Teddy entangled in a secret affair that Harry had finally uncovered? The weight of the truth hit me like a sledgehammer, filling me with a mix of anger, betrayal, and fear for what would

My thoughts were racing as I tried to decide what to do next, but before I could make a move, the front door swung open with a loud bang. My heart jolted in my chest as Harry stormed out, his face contorted with either seething anger or burning embarrassment - it was hard to tell which was more intense. He didn't even spare me a glance as he brushed past, heading straight for his car.

Just then, Rosie appeared in the doorway, her eyes widening in shock when she saw me standing there. Her cheeks were flushed and her hair was a wild mess, betraying some sort of frantic activity behind closed doors. "Oh...I-I didn't realize you were home," she stammered, her voice trembling with unease. She attempted a smile, but it fell short and I could see the fear in her eyes.

Before I could ask what was going on, Teddy burst out of our house and called out my name. He sprinted towards us from across the street, his brows furrowed with concern as he took in the sight of Rosie and I standing together. The tense atmosphere was thick between us all, and I knew something serious was about to go down.

"What's going on?" he demanded, his voice laced with concern as he eyed us both suspiciously.

I shifted uncomfortably under his gaze, my mind racing with conflicting thoughts and emotions. "I honestly don't know," I admitted, feeling like a pawn in their complicated game. "Do you?"

Teddy and Rosie exchanged a tense look that spoke volumes about their troubled relationship. I could sense the weight of their secrets and lies pressing down on me, suffocating me with their toxic grip. Without another word, I turned and fled back inside, trying to escape the tangled web of deceit and betrayal they had woven around me. My once glamorous new life now felt tainted with suspicion and heartache.

I slam the door shut behind me, my hands trembling with rage and disbelief. My worst fears have been confirmed - Teddy and Rosie were having an affair all along, right under my naive nose. A surge of hot tears fills my eyes as I collapse onto the couch, my heart hammering in my chest. How could he do this to me? After all we've built together, all the love and trust we shared. 

My mind races back through the past few months, dissecting every encounter between them that I had brushed off as innocent. His lingering looks at her, her secret smiles directed only at him, their hushed conversations that would abruptly end whenever I appeared. The pieces finally fit together, a puzzle of betrayal and deceit that I was too blind to see. How long has it been going on? Was it when he started staying late at work for that promotion? Or when our once effortless conversations turned into strained silence over dinner? My world is shattered, and I can't help but wonder if it was ever truly as perfect as I believed it to be.

My body curls in on itself, a protective barrier against the pain that radiates through me. My mind is stuck on replay, the tense exchange between them echoing endlessly in my head. Rosie's desperate pleas, Harry's explosive anger - it all points to betrayal. 

The tears fall hot and heavy down my cheeks as I realize I can no longer ignore the truth. My heart aches with every beat, but I know I have to confront Teddy. Pretending everything is okay between us is no longer an option. 

As I stand up and make my way to the front window, I catch a glimpse of Teddy crossing back over to our house, his defeated posture screaming guilt. The anger and hurt fueling my determination, I take a deep breath and brace myself for the inevitable confrontation. 

When Teddy steps into our living room, the air crackles with tension like static electricity before a storm. The unspoken truths between us hang heavily, suffocatingly thick like a dense fog. 

"Why don't you just admit it, Teddy?" My voice trembles with a mix of rage and despair.

He responds with words sharp as shattered glass, "Admit what? That you're so blinded by your own insecurity that you'd accuse me without any proof?" His betrayal cuts deep, adding more pieces to the already broken shards of my heart.

My hands balled into fists at my sides, knuckles turning white as I struggled to contain the raging storm inside me. "Don't you dare try to twist this around on me! I saw you, Teddy. I saw the way your eyes linger on her, like she's the only thing that matters."

Teddy's jaw clenched and his calm façade cracked, giving way to a simmering anger. "You're being paranoid. Rosie is just a friend, nothing more."

I took a step closer, my voice dripping with venom. "Oh please, spare me your excuses. I've seen how you look at her when you think I'm not looking."

Fury burned bright in his eyes, his voice rising in a challenge. "How dare you accuse me of cheating? I would never do that to you!"

Tears threatened to spill over as I shook my head in disbelief, my heart shattering into a million pieces. "It's not just about today, Teddy. It's been building up for months. The way you ignore me and shower her with attention... It's like I'm invisible to you now."

He scoffed, a bitter laugh escaping him. "Oh please, stop playing the victim here. You knew what you were getting into when we moved here.You want me to make you feel like you exist? Do you want me to fuck you? What do you want? You’re so needy you put your issues onto other women."

My nails dug into my palms as I fought to keep my composure in the face of his callous words. "I thought I was getting into a life with someone who loved and respected me. Not someone who sneaks around behind my back to screw the neighbor."

The tension in the room reached its breaking point as Teddy's mask slipped completely, revealing the raw emotions seething beneath the surface. "Maybe if you were more exciting, more adventurous, I wouldn't have to look elsewhere for some excitement in my life!"

His words struck me like a physical blow, leaving me reeling in disbelief and pain. The truth hung heavy in the air between us, an invisible barrier that seemed impossible to breach.

"I can't do this anymore," I whispered hoarsely, the finality of those words echoing like a gunshot in the silent room.

Teddy's expression softened for a fleeting moment before hardening once again with resolve. "Fine then! Maybe this is for the best. Actually, yeah it is. Bitch." he spat out, his voice laced with bitterness.

And with those parting words echoing in my ears like a curse, I turned away from him and headed towards the door, leaving behind our shattered dreams and broken promises in a trail of fractured memories.

The low hum of the engine filled the air as Harry sat in his sleek, black car, parked precisely outside of his modern fortress. I approached cautiously, trying to mask my trembling steps on the pavement. With a gentle tap on the window, I could feel his intense gaze burning through me from within the tinted glass. His phone slipped from his hand as he rolled down the window, revealing a sharp jawline and piercing eyes that seemed to glow with an otherworldly intensity. A commanding voice cut through the silence, "Get in." Without hesitation, I made my way around to the passenger side and sank into the plush leather seat next to him, feeling a mix of fear and excitement coursing through my veins.

As we drove away from the chaotic scene behind us, the tension in the car was suffocating. Every muscle in Harry's body seemed to be coiled with a fierce determination, his knuckles turning white as they gripped the steering wheel. I stole a quick glance at him, noticing how his usually calm demeanor was replaced by a dangerous edge, like a predator ready to strike at any moment.

A heavy silence hung in the air of the car, suffocating me as I struggled to catch my breath. Harry's voice pierced through the tension like a sharp blade, cutting deep into my racing thoughts. "Are you okay?" he asked, his expression etched with genuine concern.

I tried to speak, but my throat felt constricted and choked. Finally, I managed to whisper, "I don't know." My mind was reeling from the events that had unfolded only moments ago.

Harry's eyes remained fixed on the road ahead, his words heavy with understanding. "Life has a way of throwing unexpected challenges at us," he mused, his tone grave and contemplative. "But it's how we handle them that defines who we are."

I turned to look at him, grateful for his steady presence amid the chaos raging inside me. "Thank you," I said earnestly. "For being here for me."

A faint smile tugged at the corners of Harry's lips, but there was a glint of steel in his gaze. "You don't have to thank me," he replied firmly. "I'm here because I care about you and because your husband is sleeping with my wife." His reassurance was met with a sense of relief and gratitude amidst the turmoil that threatened to consume me.

The stillness between us was palpable, a fragile thread holding back a storm of emotions. The road stretched out before us, winding through fields and forests, as if it were leading us towards a new beginning.

My heart felt heavy with the weight of our shared past, but in this moment, with Harry by my side, I could feel a glimmer of hope for the future. Together, we drove into the unknown, leaving behind the pain and hurt that had consumed us.

But as we reached our destination - a rundown motel in the middle of nowhere - the tension returned. Harry's exhaustion and frustration were etched on his face as he turned to me.

"I know neither of us want to go home right now," he said, his voice laced with bitterness. "For fuck's sake, they're probably sexing each other up as we speak.." A surge of anger and betrayal rose within me at his words. "Let's just stay here for the night, maybe two. We can regroup and come up with a plan." His proposal hung in the air like a dark cloud, reminding us both of the uncertain future that lay ahead. But one thing was certain - we wouldn't have to face it alone.

My voice caught in my throat, unable to form words as I simply nodded, a tight knot of fear and anger coiling in my stomach. My body trembled with the intensity of the situation. We both knew that any misstep could cause everything to spiral out of control. The motel seemed like a fitting backdrop for our strained emotions, its dilapidated exterior reflecting the state of our relationship. The neon lights flickering ominously, casting a sickly glow over the peeling paint and broken windows. But even this rundown place offered some respite from the suffocating chaos and turmoil surrounding us.

Panicked and unprepared for the situation I found myself in, I regretted not packing a change of clothes as my heart raced and my mind spun with fear. The events that had just unfolded left me gasping for air, struggling to stay afloat in a sea of chaos. As we rushed into the rundown motel, I couldn't help but scan our surroundings, searching for any sign of danger. The flickering lights and musty smell only added to the ominous atmosphere. Harry snatched the key from the grimy front desk man and led us down a dimly lit hallway to our room. My anxiety spiked when they informed us that the only available room featured a single king-sized bed. My nerves were on edge at the thought of sharing such an intimate space with Harry, his intimidating presence looming over me like a dark cloud.

As we stepped into the dimly lit motel room, the tension between Harry and me was palpable, hanging heavy in the air like a thick fog. I could feel his eyes on me, assessing, judging.

"I'll take the floor," Harry offered gruffly, breaking the silence that had settled between us like a heavy blanket.

I shook my head, unable to accept his sacrifice. "No, we can share the bed. It's fine," I replied softly, trying to ease some of the strain that weighed on us both.

Harry hesitated for a moment before nodding curtly. "Alright then."

The room felt suffocatingly small as we settled in, the walls seeming to press in on us from all sides. The shadows danced ominously in the dim light, casting eerie shapes across the worn carpet.

"I never thought we'd end up here," I mused quietly, breaking the somber stillness that enveloped us.

Harry's voice was gruff as he responded, "Life has a funny way of throwing curveballs at you when you least expect it."

A bitter chuckle escaped my lips. "Seems like we're both striking out lately."

We sat in silence for a while, the weight of our complicated situation hanging heavily over us. The sound of distant traffic seeping through the thin walls served as a reminder of the world outside our little bubble of chaos.

Finally, Harry spoke again, his voice softer this time. "I'm sorry you're going through this. You deserve better."

I turned to look at him, meeting his gaze for the first time since we had arrived. There was a vulnerability in his eyes that caught me off guard.

"Thank you," I whispered, feeling a flicker of warmth amidst the cold despair that had settled in my heart. We sat side by side on the edge of the bed, two broken souls seeking solace in each other's company. 

We sat in silence for a while longer, the weight of our circumstances still heavy on our shoulders but somehow more bearable with each other's presence. The flickering lights outside cast fleeting shadows across the room, adding a sense of fleeting impermanence to our shared moment of respite.

"I'm glad you're here," Harry spoke up suddenly, his voice genuine and heartfelt.

Tears welled up in my eyes at his words, grateful for the unexpected bond that had formed between us in the midst of turmoil. "Me too," I whispered, feeling a sense of hope blooming in my heart despite the challenges ahead.

And so we sat together in the dimly lit motel room, two souls seeking solace in each other's company amidst the chaos that threatened to tear us apart.

My phone began to buzz incessantly in my hand, Teddy's name flashing on the screen. I couldn't bear to see his name or hear his voice, so I forcefully shut off my phone and flung it across the room with a violent toss. As it clattered against the wall, Harry's quiet voice pierced through the air.

"She called me too," he seethed, his fists clenched at his side. "In this moment, I could kill her."

I nodded in agreement, my blood boiling with rage. "Teddy had the audacity to accuse me of being jealous and then suggest that if he just fucked me, my jealousy would disappear," I spat out, feeling both hurt and incensed by his words.

Harry's voice dripped with desire as he turned towards me, his gaze burning into my skin. "Would it?" His words were a challenge, daring me to answer. I could feel the heat radiating off his body as he leaned in closer.

I furrowed my eyebrows in confusion. "Would what?"

A smirk played at the corners of his lips as he spoke the words that sent a shiver down my spine. "If he fucked you, would you still be so jealous?"

My heart raced at the vulgar question and I let out a nervous laugh. Shaking my head, I replied, "No, Harry. Nothing could change how I feel."

He let out a deep sigh, frustration evident in his voice. "The timing of this is fucking terrible. I've always thought you were stunning, wondered what you saw in a guy like him. And I know I could give it to you so much better."

Our eyes locked in a heated moment and I couldn't deny the sparks that flew between us. But as tempting as his offer was, I knew I couldn't betray my feelings for another man.

I glanced up at him through my lashes and saw the raw intensity in his gaze. It was clear that he wanted me. But we both knew it could never be more than a forbidden fantasy.

“What if we had our own affair, you know, to get back at them.” He said with a smirk.

My heart pounded in my chest like a wild animal in a cage at his words. An affair? The thought sent waves of scandalous delight and sinful anticipation coursing through my veins.

"An affair, Harry?" I repeated tentatively, my voice barely above a whisper. His dark eyes were locked onto mine, the intensity of his gaze making my breath hitch in my throat. The charged silence that hung between us was as intoxicating as the raw desire smoldering in his gaze.

Leaning closer, Harry's lips brushed against my earlobe as he whispered huskily, "Yes, an affair, just like what they did. Us, sneaking around, feeling each others bodies." His hot breath fanned over me, causing goosebumps to rise on my skin.

The room seemed to shrink around us as Harry moved impossibly closer, his hand finding its way to my knee. I watched as his fingers traced patterns along my thigh, desire flooding me with each small movement.

Harry's thumb traced a line up towards the apex of my thighs, igniting sparks wherever it made contact with my flesh through the thin material of my skirt. My body instinctively rose to meet him and I let out a soft gasp.

"You want this," he murmured heatedly against my neck before nipping lightly at the sensitive skin there. A delicious shiver ran down my spine and my core clenched at his actions. 

"I...I..." I stuttered, struggling for words as heat pooled low in my belly. He chuckled darkly at my loss for words before returning his attention back to where his hand had slowly began creeping upwards again. His warm touch was like an electric shock, leaving behind a trail of molten desire.

Without another word, Harry pushed up my skirt and slipped his hand into my panties. His fingers brushed lightly against me and I sucked in a sharp breath, feeling a jolt of pleasure shoot straight to my core. He grinned wickedly at me and slowly began to stroke me, his skilled fingers setting my senses ablaze.

"Harry," I moaned out, clutching at his arm as he expertly worked me into a bundle of nerves. His low chuckle did nothing to ease the escalating tension.

His finger easily slipped inside me, making me whimper at the sudden intrusion. Harry pumped his digits inside me slowly at first, but quickly sped up when I let out a needy gasp. The pleasure was overwhelming and soon enough, I clenched around him, a shuddering orgasm ripping through me.

I fell back onto the bed, panting heavily as aftershocks still tingled throughout my body. Harry wiped his glistening fingers on my skirt before smoothly pulling it back down. He then lay next to me on the bed, his smirk evident in the dim light.

"That's just a taste," he said with a wicked glint in his eyes. 

"I can't wait to claim you as mine," Harry whispered in my ear, his hot breath sending shivers down my spine. My heart raced as he trailed kisses along my jaw and down my neck, stopping to suckle a tender spot just below my earlobe. His hands moved sensually over my body, teasingly tracing patterns on my skin before gripping me tighter.

Desperate for more of his touch, I moaned and arched into him. He took that as an invitation and gripped the hem of my shirt, pulling it up over my head roughly. "Fuck," he muttered under his breath when he saw me bare-chested for the first time. I blushed at his appreciation but internally preened at his reaction.

"You're so fucking beautiful," he growled lowly before capturing one of my nipples between his lips and sucking hard. My back bowed off the bed as I let out a keening whimper, my fingers tangling in his hair. He had a way of making me feel wanted and desired like no one ever had before.

He moved lower, kissing and licking his way down my stomach until he reached the hem of my skirt. With a swift movement, he yanked it up over my hips, baring me completely to him. His eyes darkened even more when they met mine again, full of lust and possession.

"Spread your legs for me," he commanded softly yet authoritatively. I hesitated for only a moment before complying with his request, feeling incredibly exposed but also powerfully aroused by the thought of pleasing him in any way possible.

Harry took advantage of this vulnerability by thrusting two fingers deep inside me without any warning or preparation. I gasped at the intrusion but didn't stop him from exploring deeper within me. Instead, I clenched around his fingers instinctively while moaning out his name in ecstasy. He chuckled softly against my inner thigh before reaching between our bodies to stroke himself in time with his rhythmic fingering of me.

"You're so tight," he groaned approvingly. 

As Harry thrust his fingers deeper into me, I couldn't help but moan louder. His fingers curled inside me, searching for my sweet spot while his other hand gripped my hip firmly. My body shuddered with pleasure as we moved together in this intense rhythm.

"You feel so good," I whispered between breaths. "Please don't stop."

He chuckled darkly before biting down softly on the lobe of my ear, sending a jolt of excitement through me. His hips picked up speed, grinding against me as he groaned in approval.

"That's it, baby girl," he growled. "Take what you want."

His words ignited something deep within me, making me even more hungry for his touch. I didn't hesitate to wrap my legs around his waist and pull him closer still. Our skin slapped together in sync with each swift thrust and retreat as we moved together like two bodies meant to be one.

"Oh fuck, you're driving me wild," he whispered into my ear before grabbing a fistful of my hair and pulling my head back sharply. The sudden sting shot straight to my core, intensifying every sensation tenfold. He released my hair just as quickly and crashed his lips onto mine in a demanding kiss that left me panting for air.

We moved from the couch to bed floor where he pushed me down onto all fours before kneeling behind me. One hand gripped the base of my spine while the other caressed its way up my inner thigh towards my core again. He teased me mercilessly with his fingers as he trailed hot kisses down my spine and back up again, sending shivers of anticipation through my entire body.

"I know I'll fuck you like you’ve never been fucked before," he muttered darkly into my ear just before slamming himself deep inside me from behind in one powerful stroke that made me cry out loudly at both surprise and pleasure. In response, he gripped both sides of my face roughly yet tenderly and claimed my mouth once more in a fiery kiss that went on forever or at least it felt like it did until our bodies became entwined.

I could feel his cock hardening in his pants and I needed it no matter how wrong it was.

He gripped my hair tightly and pulled my head back, exposing my neck. His hot breath sent shivers down my spine as he whispered, "You're mine to fuck however I want." Wanting more than anything to feel his cock deep inside me, I moaned in agreement.

Pushing me against the bed, he roughly lifted one of my legs and wrapped it around his waist. With his free hand, he pushed his hard and heavy cock into me. I cried out at the intense pleasure shooting through my body as he began to thrust slowly yet powerfully in and out of me.

"Say you want it," he growled against my ear. "Tell me how much you need it."

"Please," I whimpered. "Fuck me hard."

His answering groan sent a wave of heat coursing through my veins as he slammed into me with all his might, claiming my mind and body as his own. The force of each thrust sent jolts of electricity through every nerve ending i body, leaving me breathless and begging for more.

As he continued to pound into me, I couldn't help but moan his name. His thick cock stretched and filled me, hitting my sweet spot with each powerful thrust. I felt my walls start to quake, ready to explode with pleasure as he took control of our encounter.

"That's it," he growled, nipping at my earlobe. "Just let go."

I clung to him tighter, my nails digging into his skin as I surrendered to the intensity of our lovemaking. Every muscle in my body was on edge, waiting for the release that felt so close yet so far away.

He changed positions again, lifting me up and pushing me against the wall. His other hand gripped my hair tightly as he claimed my mouth roughly in a deep, passionate kiss. My legs wrapped around his waist instinctively as he began to thrust even harder into me. It felt so dirty yet so good to be taken like this.

"You are mine," he whispered harshly between breaths. "Only mine. I bet your husband would be fucking dumbfounded when he sees you filled up with my babies."

His words sent shivers down my spine, and I couldn't help but nod in agreement as he took control completely. This was exactly what I needed - someone strong who would make me feel wanted and taken care of. 

As we moved together in sync, lost in the heat of passion and desire, I whispered back to him between gasps for air, "Please...don't stop."

He replied by grabbing hold of my ass cheeks and squeezing them tightly as he thrust deeper into me. His rough skin rubbed against mine, sending tingling sensations all over my body. With every push and pull, our hips collided, echoing throughout the room.

I could feel him growing harder inside me, straining against the thin fabric separating us. The anticipation was killing me - I needed him to release that cock and fill me up completely. As if reading my mind, he pulled away from me suddenly and spun me around so that I was facing the wall again.

"Not yet," he growled into my ear before reaching down and teasing my entrance with his thumbs. He pushed one finger inside me slowly, then another, stretching me open until three fingers were buried deep inside me. I arched my back involuntarily as wave after wave of pleasure coursed through my veins at his tender ministrations on my most sensitive spot.

“Where is your damn phone?” Harry demanded, his voice dripping with urgency. I struggled to lift my head off the bed and weakly pointed to the device lying on the floor. Without hesitation, he leapt from the bed and strode over to it.

A sinister grin spread across his face as he unlocked the phone and shoved his thumb into my mouth, ordering me to suck on it. With a twisted sense of satisfaction, he flipped the phone and snapped a selfie, making sure to capture the tattoos inked on his arm for identification. His next move was ruthless as he pulled up my text messages and sent the photo to Teddy, effectively sending a clear message of dominance over me.

"I'll make sure that bastard knows what he's missing out on," Harry growls, his eyes filled with possessive rage. "You're too good for him, love. A fucking goddess like you deserves to be worshipped and adored, not tossed aside like a used toy." I feel a mix of anger and satisfaction as I realize that I don't need Teddy anymore, not after the wild and passionate night I just had with Harry. He makes me feel alive in a way no one else ever has.

Harry threw the phone back onto the bed, his eyes never leaving mine. I could see the fire in his gaze, the intensity of his desire for me. He reached out and ran a hand through my hair, gently tugging on it as he leaned in to kiss me. His lips were soft, but his touch was firm, demanding. I responded eagerly, meeting his kiss with equal passion.

As we kissed, Harry's hands began to wander, exploring my body with a familiarity that set my skin on fire. He traced the curve of my waist, the arch of my back, the dip of my hips. I could feel myself growing wetter with every touch, every kiss. I needed him inside me again, needed to feel him filling me up, possessing me completely.

But Harry had other plans. He broke our kiss and looked deep into my eyes, his expression serious. "Not yet," he whispered, echoing his earlier words. "I want to savor every moment with you."

He lowered his head and began to kiss a trail down my neck, across my collarbone, down to my breasts. He teased my nipples with his tongue, biting down gently on the sensitive flesh. I gasped, arching my back as waves of pleasure washed over me.

Slowly, carefully, Harry began to enter me once again. He moved slowly at first, savoring every inch of me. But as he felt me grow wetter, more responsive, he picked up the pace. He thrust deeper, harder, his hips slapping against mine. I could feel myself losing control, could feel the familiar tightening in my belly as I approached my climax.

"Turn over, want to see that beautiful ass of yours as I fill you up," he growled, his voice thick with desire.

[leonstoenailunderhisbed]

American Psycho Killer: The Sequel

Summary: After Leon perfectly got away with murder and finally got the chance to be with the girl who lived just down the hall, he hasn't noticed that she, too, was just like him.

Warning: stalking, murdering, mentions of planned murder, death, smut, creampie, yan!leon, not proofread lol, fem reader, psychopathic, yan!reader, stalking, masturbating (female), dry humping, this might be my nastiest work yet

A/N: RAHHH GUESS WHO PASSED HER PSYCHOLOGY FINAL- ME!!!! im a certified psychologist now (this is joke btw)

[part one]

“I got you under my skin” - Mirotic, TVXQ!

People always seem to forget that not all psychopaths are the same. Sure, most share the same goal. But not every psychopath is the same. According to Kurt Scheinder, there are different personality types within the psychopathic community.

Leon's an affectionless psychopath; he's cold, antisocial, manipulative, and very assertive. He's a perfect murderer who kills anyone who dares to touch or hurt you. But he won't show or tell you how concerned he is for you. He doesn't feel love. No, it's quite different.

Psychopaths can fall in love with other people, but it's not the same. Leon's emotions are shallow and empty. But he still wants you to be his. He's possessive over you, he wants you in a sense that he can't even explain it himself.

But what he doesn't know is that you were also in the same percentage of psychopaths. You aren't affectionless, you're an obsessive psychopath. Obsessive psychopaths are people who are extremely possessive and become obsessed with people. These types of people often act on their jealousy and sexual fantasies. What he didn’t know was that you were deep down the trenches for him.

After having sex with the man, he cleaned you up and left your apartment room. It was late and he had work tomorrow, like every day. You felt conflicted, in a way, you had sex with your neighbor on the day of your ex's funeral. If you believed in God, you were sure he would send you straight to hell. But you didn't care. Leon made you feel things you hadn't felt before.

You found yourself thinking about him and the way he filled you up. Luck was with you the next morning when you bought the last morning-after pill. The woman behind you glaring at you as you shamelessly grinned at her. You didn't care, why should you? You didn't want to get knocked up, as much as you'd love the idea of carrying Leon's child, you barely knew the man.

But that didn't stop you from taking his pictures every time he walked by. Your phone angled slightly as you took pictures of him when you two were in the elevator, or when you'd see him from your window as he walked away from his car. You'd watch him like a hawk watching the fish in the river, waiting for the perfect moment to claw deep into its fins and carry it to its nest.

Was this illegal? Probably but then again, most things were illegal in such a fucked up and greedy country. You cheated the system; too smart for them as you found loopholes around the terribly written constitution. You knew you could get away with anything if you played your cards right- a gamble.

Being a psychopath isn't praised in society, people hate such disconnected individuals but being a psychopath yourself, you actually blended in. No one would question your obsessive and stalking habits. No one would even guess that the sweet girl from the apartment building had a wall full of candid photos of the blonde agent.

You stood back as you marveled at the sights. Hundreds of photos plastered on the beige wall, all from different angles and days. Some you took when he had his morning jog, some were when you stayed up all night waiting for him to come home. Something about the way he looked when he was exhausted just turned you on. The wall was right in front of your bed. Every night, when you'd go to sleep, you would stare at the pictures and get all excited about your perverted fantasies.

As you stared at the wall with the photos, your hands slipped down your pajama shorts. Fingers rubbing against the lacey panties you wore. It was perverted but a part of you took pleasure in the way the countless pictures stared at you as you rubbed your clothed clit. Back arching as you bit your bottom lip, trying not to be too loud for the neighbors to hear.

It wasn't enough. You needed more.

Poor pillow, you thought as you took a long pillow from behind you. You sat up and straddled the pillow as you faced the Leon wall. The picures staring right back you as you rocked your hips against the comforting material. Wetness pooling in your panties, making them stick to your needy cunt as you humped the pillow, pretending it was him. The wetness seeped through your pajama shorts, feeling the cold slick collect as you rocked your hips. If anyone were to see you, you'd be embarrassed. Going off on the pictures of your neighbor as you rode the pillow pretending it was his cock. Your clit rubbed against the lace material of your panty, your folds gliding with ease as every hump. God, you felt like a teenage girl when she first discovers what Wattpad is.

Moans collected in your throat, daring to escape as you shut your eyes tightly closed. Bliss overtaking you as you grinded against your pillow harder and faster, like a dog in heat. Your hands squeezed tightly around the soft fabric of what you pretended would be Leon's shoulders- maybe neck if you wanted to feel more dominant. The pillow slowly began to get stained with your slick as you neared your orgasm, the way your panty roughly grinded against your cunt and clit set you aflame. It was all so wet and arousing; it got your back arching as you could just picture his cock thrusting up into your womb, sliding through your tight gummy walls as he would grip your hips and bounce you on his leaking cock. Even the thought of him made you cum faster. Feeling the way his muscles would feel and flex as you drove him to the edge from your riding, the way his sweat smelled as if it was an aphrodisiac. Addicting. He made you an addict.

Cumming hard on the pillow, your thighs trembled and your moans escaped your lips. As you rode through your high, you couldn't help but feel conflicted once again. This was psychotic behavior but who was here to judge you? Exactly, no one. Not even Leon's pictures who were staring directly at you. With a quiet sigh, you got off the pillow and began to clear the mess you left. All while you kept thinking about him.

-

The landlord of your apartment building was a strange man. Supportive, but strange. He had a basement in which he'd host events about anything. He believed he was some sort of Messiah that was sent by God to help cure the people of whatever was pestering them. Today was no different; you found yourself sitting in one of the chairs in the basement along with the other tenants. Leon was there too. Sitting on the other side of the basement with his arms crossed over his chest as he sat far away.

"Thank you all for coming, today I want to talk about a few things. Like grief. We know that the death of a recent tenant has been...difficult to overcome," the landlord began- referring to the guy that died from the fire. They never caught Leon, so no one suspected a thing, not even you.

"The fire department has told me that I should revise a fire drill in case something like this happens again," the landlord's voice was soft and you could swear he was high. Or maybe he wasn't and that was just the way he talked, either way, it made you want to fall asleep.

"Just so we're clear- there is a fire exit only on the right side of the building. The door to the stairs will only open once the smoke detectors have detected a fire. Do not, and i can't stress this enough, do not pry it open. Those things cost a fortune and I'd hate to have to increase everyone's rent." Everyone grumbled at the thought of paying more for some idiot's actions. Leon, however, just remained silent and observed. You couldn't help but steal glances at him, just admiring the way his brows were pinched together as his lips were a straight line.

For a white man, he looked very attractive. You'd let this white man colonize you.

And then his eyes landed on you. Those piercing blue eyes that were hard to read found your own, and he held eye contact. Daring you to look away, to which you couldn't. You were too enthralled, as if he threw a spell at you. Not like you'd mind, of course, but this man was intimidatingly attractive.

You had to pull your eyes away from the intense eye contact as the landlord kept talking. From your peripheral vision, you could see how a woman approached Leon and sat down next to him.

At first, you didn’t think too much of it. You thought but not too much. Until her laughter made its way to your ears. Her laugh was as if nails were scratching on the board of some classroom. You hated it. It drove you insane.

Her laughter could be heard- it was fake and forced, it had to be. No one laughed like that. She had to be flirting with Leon and it only made you feel rage and jealousy. God, you needed to calm down. Or maybe you needed to kill her. His expression wasn't different. He was simply just staring at her. How you wished that was you sitting on his cock as you memorized his face. As you counted the blackheads he had on his nose, as your eyes traced the wrinkles and acne scars. You wanted to memorize his entire being.

Kill her? The thought never appeared in your head but who were you to argue against your thoughts. You trusted yourself.

Once the landlord had stopped talking, you were the first one to dash out of the basement. Not without looking at how the woman basically threw herself him. Her breasts pressing against his chest. His face was unreadable, just coldly staring at her as she tried to seduce him. It made your blood boil. How dare she do that to your man? She needed to learn her lesson.

The next few days, you've been studying. Not because you had exams, no, you studied for other reasons. You studied the human anatomy as well as some chemistry.

One night, around 3AM, you came back from the library you were in. Just freshly studied, you had many ideas on how to kill her. A part of you, the good part, thought that this was immoral and terrible. But the other part told you that no one, absolutely no one, dares to flirt with your man. He's not even your man officially but he might as well be for all the times you masturbated in front of his pictures.

When you were on campus, you "borrowed" some tools. Of course, you were going to be nice and return them to the STEM building before they even charge you for overusing their supplies.

Being an obsessive and jealous psychopath, you're bound to be reckless and impulsive. But not this time. This time, you were going to be calculated. You had a plan orchestrated for her murder.

You made your way to the security room where the security cameras screened the halls of the apartment complex. As you lock picked the door, you entered quietly. Your footsteps softly thudding against the carpeted floor. The room had about 8 or 9 TV screens that showed different angles of the different floors. On one of them, you noticed Leon walking through the parking lot. He must've come back from work; he usually does at this time.

Hacking the security cameras weren't easy. You desperately wanted to just smash the entire setup, but you knew that would only make you more suspicious. You needed to control your temper. Plus, you wouldn't do that to your landlord. He's a cheap guy and would rather not pay from his pocket, he'd probably increase the rent to pay for the damages you could cause.

After some minutes, the screens all turned static, giving you the sign to proceed with your plan.

You stepped out of the room, closing the door on your way out. Leaving it exactly how you found it.

You climbed the stairs to where your floor was since she lived just a few doors away from you. She moved into the dead guy's apartment; you thought it was dumb. Why would you live in a place where someone just recently died? That's bad luck because now she was going to die because of you.

Once again, you lock picked the door to her apartment and looked around to make sure no one had seen you. You knew Leon just came back from work, so you needed to be quick as to not let him see you like this.

You entered her apartment swiftly and silently, closing the door behind you with a soft click. The apartment was dark and silent, except for the soft snores coming from just down the hall. Where her room was.

Your footsteps were soft and quiet as you made your way towards her. And there she was, sleeping peacefully on her stomach. All sprawled out on her bed as her hair covered her face.

Quietly making your way towards her bed, you kneeled down beside her and took out a small liquid bottle.

Potassium chloride (KCI), it read.

You didn't know a thing about chemicals and what they do, but to be honest, you didn't care. All you knew was that this stuff could be lethal. And that's exactly what you wanted.

Taking out a syringe from your pocket, you punctured the top of the bottle and pumped some of the liquid into the tube of the syringe, making sure it went past the middle line imprinted on the plastic container.

For once, you were glad to have access to the labs in the STEM building. The things you could do... but that was a thought for another time. Right now, you had a job to do.

Finding a vein on her neck was easier than you thought, based on the way she was sleeping, her neck tensed, and a vein was popping out of the side of her neck. The blue line traveling down her skin.

As you aligned the needle on her vein, you pushed without remorse. The needle penetrated her skin as you injected her with the dose of KCI. You watched in awe as the liquid entered her system. A dose enough it would cause cardiac arrest, instant death even.

You decided to leave her bed as she slowly succumbed to her death. You stuffed your materials back in your pockets as you stood up. What you failed to notice was the pair of footsteps nearing the bedroom. As you turned towards the door, you immediately noticed the figure lingering in the doorframe.

Leon.

Leon watched you kill that woman. He saw it all happen right before his eyes. But his expression was still cold and unreadable. He stepped towards you and stood in front of you, staring down at you.

'Hm," he spoke quietly, "well, this isn't something I was expecting," he muttered.

You didn't know what to say as you stared up at him. He knows what you just did but you don't feel regret.

After a short moment of silence, he spoke again, "I was going to kill her."

Your eyes widened at the confession; he was going to kill her?

"Why?" you asked quietly. The ends of his lips tugged into a faint smirk as he watched your expression, "Because she was annoying you."

You were stunned once again. He was going to kill her because he knew she had annoyed you? He really was the perfect man.

"Now," he stepped closer to you, leaning down until you could his breath on your face, "Why did you kill her?"

It would be embarrassing to tell him that the only reason why you killed the woman was because you were jealous.

As you nibbled on your bottom lip, you tried to come up with an excuse, "Like you said... she was annoying me."

Leon wasn't dumb, he knew you were lying. He brought his hands to brush away your hair away from your shoulders, "Don't lie to me," he muttered as he twirled a strand of hair in between his fingers.

"Fine," you muttered back, "I was... jealous." You felt embarrassment shot right up through your body as you told Leon the truth.

His smirk widened slightly as he let go of your hair, "You were jealous? Why? Because she was all up at me?"

You nodded, "Yeah... i didn't like how she tried to flirt with you."

He looked at you and then back at the woman laying on the bed, "I'm impressed."

That comment was sent straight to your core, wetting your panties. It was almost pathetic, how much power he had over you. If you weren't in this woman's room, you'd totally straddle him and ride his cock like how you rode the pillow.

As he turned to look back at you, he noticed your concentrated expression. His brow raised slightly at the sudden profound silence coming from you. But he didn't mind, you were still standing there in front of him and that was enough for Leon's shallow heart.

"Leave," he muttered as he looked at you. This caused you to pinch your brows together. Why would he want you to leave?

"Go back to your apartment, I'll clean the evidence for you."

Your mouth fell apart after he said that. He was willing on cleaning up your mess. But you were sure not to leave a trace behind... not really. You weren't wearing any gloves. You mentally slapped yourself for the small mistake.

"I'll meet you when I'm done," and with that he got to work. He walked around with disinfectant wipes and alcohol as he made sure to clean everything you had touched.

As he did that, you walked out of her apartment and went over to yours. A lot of thought scurried through your mind; thoughts like: why is he helping you?

A part of you felt guilty for killing someone but the other part of you didn’t. The id and the ego. A constant battle between what’s wrong and what’s right.

You did think she deserved it. But at the same time, you and Leon had sex. That must’ve mean something, right? Does he like you? Does he want to have sex again?

A part of being a psychopath that not many people know is that they are one of the most hypersexual people ever to exist. One single thought about him and it gets sent straight to your pussy. It’s not necessarily bad, you just have a lot of needs.

Part of you couldn’t wait for him to finish cleaning up and come to you. But a part of you also didn’t want him to see the amount of pictures you had of him on your wall.

As you walked to your apartment, you settled yourself in your bed, staring straight at the Leon wall.

What would he think of you if he saw this?

Would he be creeped out?

Insecurity ran through your body as you thought about it. Overthinking the possibilities of him reacting to just how obsessed you were with him.

You quickly got up and began to try and take off the photos of him on your wall.

However, just as you pulled a few of the hundred photos, you heard the noise of someone clearing their throat. Your head slowly turned towards the sound and your face fell pale.

It was Leon.

“Are those pictures of me?” He asked as he stepped towards your room. Standing closely next to you as he stared at the wall. His eyes scanned each and every one of the pictures. Almost as if he was impressed more than disrtubed.

But he didn't look disturbed. He had a small smirk on his lips that flipped your guts inside out. What exactly was he thinking?

"Yeah... they are," you murmured under your breath as you looked back at the pictures.

"You keep surprising me today," he muttered and turned his head to look at you with that stupid smirk. The smirk that made you feel so many things at once, "I never took you for... a stalker."

Your cheeks flushed red from embarrassment, and you quickly looked at him, "I-I well-" You didn't know what to say. What could you possibly say without looking even more demented.

"I like it," he whispered and stepped closer to you. His expression still remained distant but there was something in his eyes. A dangerous glint of possession.

You turned your body to look at him, staring up at his eyes. Something was starting to form in the air, and it was dangerous. As if gasoline was being poured into a barrel of fire.

Without notice, he harshly pulled you to him by putting a hand on the back of your head. His lips crashed into yours as his other hand snaked around your waist and he forcefully pulled you close to his body.

His kiss was dominating and harsh. As if he was hungry for you. Your hands gripped around his shirt. Your knees felt weak, and you started to grow dizzy from the lack of oxygen.

He was kissing you like no tomorrow. He bit your bottom lip hard, causing you to gasp. His tongue delved inside and wrapped around your tongue- dancing a battle of dominance that you lost long ago.

His hand went down from your waist to grip your ass cheek, giving it a tight and firm squeeze. He pulled back and pushed onto the bed.

"Strip," he demanded in a low voice. You quickly obliged and began to take off your clothes. His gaze was penetrating you, watching you like an eagle as you got naked under his command. It filled his veins with pure adrenaline, and he wanted nothing more than to claim you.

He saw that you were obsessed with him, and he was finally able to show you just how obsessed he was with you too.

He took off his clothes as well and climbed on top of you and began to kiss you again. His lips hungrily crashed into yours as his hands traveled around your body, squeezing the fat of your hips and squeezing the curve of your waist.

His lips trailed down to your neck, abusing the skin purple and red as you whimpered and moaned for him. His touch was electrifying, and you were going off on it. One of his hands trailed down to your wet cunt as he kept sucking your neck. He chuckled lowly as he felt how wet you'd become in just the matter of two minutes.

"Already so wet for me," he sucked the skin around your collarbone as his fingers faintly hovered over your cunt.

"I bet you imagined this moment, huh? Me fucking you in front of all these pictures you took of me," he grumbled as he inserted his index finger without warning, causing you to gasp and rolled your head back. Eye tightly shut as he curled his index finger in you.

He was going ruthless on you. He inserted another finger in you, scissoring you with speed as he watched your eyes roll back. Your walls pulsated around his fingers, and he could feel his cock getting hard against your thigh. He could feel you getting closer to your orgasm and that only drove him to reach deeper inside with his fingers until his knuckles were buried deep.

He smirked as he saw the way you arched your back and moaned for him. His obsession for you only grew as he heard the lewd noises come from your mouth. Your chest heaved up and down as you tried to not be too loud for your neighbors to send a noise complaint.

But he abruptly pulled his fingers out of you, denying you of your release. You whined and looked at him through half-lidded eyes, "Why... why did you stop?" you breathed out. And all he did was chuckle lowly at your reaction.

He was cruel but he loved it. He loved driving you close to the edge and then pull you back into reality.

“Turn over,” was all that he said. You got on your stomach and he gripped his hands around your hips and lifted your ass a little higher.

His hands went around your ass and back before giving you a slap on your ass cheek, causing you yelp. It stung but it felt good.

One of his hands left your hips as he pumped his cock with his precum and aligned himself with your entrance.

He buried his cock deep into your cunt, gripping your waist as he pulled you closer to him, forcing you to take his size. You whimpered as you shut your eyes tightly. He slowly began to move his hips against you from behind, trying to find a rhythm that would be pleasurable for the two of you.

Your face was planted flat on a pillow as he fucked you. Your mouth was open, muffled moans echoing through the room. The sound of his balls smacking against your clit making this look and sound so pornographic.

He could feel your walls tighten every time his balls clashed your clit, “You’re so fucking tight,” he grunted. You couldn’t reply, too preoccupied getting your brains fucked out by him.

His speed only increased as he became selfish and obsessive. He wanted to claim you, to make you his. It was psychotic but he needed it. He desperately needed you in his life, even if he’s fucked up in the head.

But you’re also a bit screwed up. What type of person stalks a man and kills for him? You, apparently.

You both have killed for each other. You both were obsessed with each other. One wouldn’t know if it was concerning or cute. Either way, you loved him and he loved you.

“I’m gonna breed you,” he grunted again as he pulled out and pushed back in brutally. His strength like no other, his muscles flexing and tensing.

His dirty words didn’t help either, they were driving you closer and closer to your orgasm. Your pussy clenched so tightly against his cock, wanting to milk him of his seed and force you to bear his children.

“Gonna fill you up- fuck- and make you mine,” he moaned softly in your ear as his hand left your waist and went down to your clit. Circling it and pinching it in between his fingers.

You mewled and moaned, drool dripping down from your mouth as you saw stars. He made you feel so good and you only wanted more.

His cock disappeared into your cunt with every thrust and he ogled at the sight. He loved the way you took him, he loved the way you looked so fucked out of your mind all because of him.

He made you feel this way. And he wanted more.

“You’re staying with me,” he groaned into your ear, “You’ll be mine whether you like it or not- fuck I’m gonna cum,” he grunted and kept thrusting into you. He kept pounding into you.

Every time he thrusted into you, he saw the way your ass jiggled and it only made his cock twitch and throb inside you. He shot his cum deep inside you but he didn’t stop.

He continued to toy with your clit as he kept pounding his half hard cock- which soon got hard again from seeing your face and hearing the way you moaned when he came inside you.

“Leon,” you moaned out lewdly as you neared your orgasm. It surprised you he came first but you didn’t complain, it only drove you closer to cumming.

“Cum for me,” he demanded in a growl. Your pussy spasmed around his cock and you came on his cock.

You arched your back as you came, feeling his deeper into your cunt as he continued to fuck you through your high.

And. He. Didn’t. Stop.

He wanted to cum in you again, he promised he’d fill you up and he never breaks his promises.

“Gonna cum again, sweetheart,” he moaned into your ear as his hand left your clit and went back to your waist.

“This pussy’s mine,” he grunted as he gripped your waist and pulled you on his cock, watching as your mouth hanged open, spilling moans and whimpers from overstimulation.

“You’re fucking mine, sweetheart,” he grunted one last time before ramming his hips into you and cumming inside you once more. His warm cum overfilling your cunt, cum oozing out as new cum entered your body.

He remained inside you as you both caught your breath. He couldn’t believe he’d cum twice but then again, you really did keep surprising him today.

And that’s what he liked about you. You were so unexpected and that only drove him crazy for you.

And you were crazy for him too.

[serpentface]

SPIRITS OF THE HIGHLANDS: A POST

Depiction of a dragon in regional animal-style (simplified visual motifs that impart and communicate key attributes of animals), as used in decoration or tattooing.

The term ‘spirit’ in the Hill Tribes cultural sphere is a very broad category that includes souls of the dead, supernatural entities, and some legendary creatures, but does not include gods (entities that were involved in the act of creation). The boundaries between spirits and gods can be ambiguous sometimes- a select few spirits are venerated in similar capacities to gods and/or are reckoned as similarly powerful, and some gods are instead considered spirits in certain traditions. The commonalities among all are that they are ascribed sapience and some degree of magical ability, and/or are souls of the dead.

Spirits are understood to be a material aspect of reality, mostly existing in physical bodies (though some are disembodied). The notion of a ‘spirit world’ and a ‘human world’ is usually differentiated, but not in the sense that they are physically discrete planes of existence, rather that they are separate modes of living and different parts of the same landscape- the human world exists in the villages, farmland, and well-established roads, and the spirit world exists in 'wilderness', and in places that are wholly inaccessible (the sky, mountaintops, deep underwater etc). People enter the spirit world as part of routine movements of life (herders moving up to high summer pastures are within the spirit world) but it is regarded as unfit for permanent occupation.

Spirits are loosely differentiated into the categories of granul ('wild spirits', entities that live in wilderness) and daigh (souls of dead humans and animals). An additional subset of granul are '-folk', regarded as a type of person in similar capacities to qilik being 'birdfolk' and elowey being 'dogfolk', but living specifically as magical aspects of nature.

All spirits are regarded as individuals and many are known by name (either as key folkloric figures, or with the names of local spirits discerned through the divination of witches). Their natures range from benevolent to mischievous to malevolent to deadly, with some having the capacity for all these at once. The vast majority are not venerated (only ancestors receive this treatment in full), just accepted as aspects of reality that one must know how to engage with.

Spirits are assumed to exist throughout the world in great number and variety, it is just those of the Highlands who are best known and most important to the Hill Tribes. Most people will very readily adopt other spirits (and some foreign gods) into their worldview without this being an act of religious conversion or other such cultural paradigm shift, instead simply assuming these entities to be the unfamiliar local spirits of foreign places.

---

Wildfolk: Humanlike spirits of the forests and mountains, associated with deer. These are tricky, sometimes malicious, and easily offended entities that must be dealt with respect and care. They mostly take the form of deer during the day and shapeshift into small, pale, long-bearded and wild-haired humans at night. They exist in a parallel society as deer herders, and are led by very powerful witches who can physically shapeshift into birds. The wildfolk witch Bernike is the most famous and has a prominent place as a major character in folklore, regularly interacting with gods and heroes and regarded as a (somewhat capricious) protective spirit of the Highlands.

Riverfolk: Humanlike river spirits, generally not as dangerous as wildfolk. They travel along rivers in canoes and will often rest and sunbathe along the shore, but are often very shy of people and will usually take the forms of trout to flee when spotted. They sometimes appear in folktales as seducers, or as brides/grooms (after being caught by fishermen in trout form). Said to once have had entire kingdoms to the southwest of the Highlands, but these were conquered by the Burri. (This aspect is partly a cultural memory of early Wardi tribes that lived in the lands now called Ephennos, most likely the eponymous Ephenni or a related group absorbed by them).

Seafolk: Humanlike sea spirits. The Highlands are fully landlocked (the far north of the region is fairly close to the coast of the Viper, but not enough for people to venture that far on any regular basis) and these mostly are just assumed to exist without being regularly encountered. They appear in myths in the migration and settlement cycles, described as being encountered by the ancestors of the Hill Tribes as they crossed the sea. They are described as akin to riverfolk, but more aggressive.

Dainhrudinnas: Spirits with the bodies of humans and the heads of dogs, who are excellent swimmers and are the spirits of lakes (dainhrudinnas having meaning akin to 'lake dogs', with the word for 'lake' translating dead literally as 'great river valley'). These are said to only live in far away places (usually regarded as being across the sea to the north, or somewhere vaguely 'east' or 'south' inland), but make semi frequent appearances in stories about distant lands. They may be partly rooted in cultural memories of various elowey peoples that were encountered by the pre-migratory ancestors of the Hill Tribes, and/or a loose conceptualization of the Jazait people based in secondhand knowledge. They are regarded as akin to elowey but not the same thing (in a similar capacity to wildfolk, riverfolk, and oceanfolk being akin to humans).

Kulsigranul: Minor wild spirits, mostly associated with barley. They are usually described as tiny (1 ft tall) humans who usually live alone in the wild, but convene in barley fields on nights of the full moon to engage in drunken revelry. They are also known to steal milk from the teats of cattle and horses, which is regarded as an intoxicant for them. Their presence is beneficial to the crops (though not to livestock), and cups of milk can be left out to attract them into fields. They hate being seen by humans and can cause bad luck or the withering of crops if their festivities are interrupted. On full moons, one should generally avoid entering barley fields and never follow sounds of distant music.

Virgranul: a malicious spirit with no body of its own, perpetually seeking to inhabit human flesh. It can enter the body only at moments of transition- during conception, or at the very moment of death. Virgranul possession at birth causes a person to become a witch, virganul possession at death results in the corpse wandering off and living as undead until it becomes too rotten to hold its shape (a dangerous situation for the original soul, given it is still partly attached to the body). Particularly experienced virgranul will mummify their corpse bodies to preserve them indefinitely, and some isolated places are known to be haunted by such undead.

Tírgranul: Minor malicious spirits who take pleasure in frightening those alone (especially at night) and spooking cattle. They are usually encountered as a human silhouette peering out from behind a tree or bolder, shadows darting out the corner of the eye, and the sound of footsteps that halt just after one stops moving to listen. Sudden and unexplained stampedes among cattle are attributed to their presence. It is often said that their faces are so horrifying that merely looking upon them can kill, but these spirits are very shy and will avoid directly being seen. One should never whistle at night, it attracts them.

Dulakgranul: Minor, benevolent wild spirits who live among rocks. Herders and travelers will build small cairns out of rocks along their routes, which will invite these spirits, who in turn displace less savory ones. They will grant boons to travelers who leave small gifts of food and drink at their cairns.

Dragons: legendary beasts, younger offspring of the goddess Ariakh and the King of Eagles, and associated with thunderstorms. They are massive birds with the bodies and wings of eagles, legs of pheasants, wrinkled bare faces and necks of vultures, and the heads and tails of snakes. They roost in eyries on mountaintops, and only emerge to hunt during storms. Horses and cattle are their favorite meals, but they will settle for humans given the chance. They are regarded as vain and egotistical, jealous of their bigger, older brothers (the Winds), and highly competitive amongst themselves (forming a hierarchy system in their level of venomousness). They are often defeated in folktales by manipulation of their competitiveness and vanity to turn them against one another.

As is very common worldwide, the depictions of dragons in this sphere are influenced by distant cultural memories (or culturally transmitted accounts) of giant azhdarchid pterosauroids, with mythological dragons in this world being far more ubiquitously described as a mixture of bird and reptile and almost always identified as winged, flying creatures. Eastern dragons such as these tend to have the feathered wings of birds (largely due to greater temporal space from encounters with these pterosauroids, whose last remnant populations were thousands of miles away in the far northwestern plains).

Fuldaigh: Malicious spirits of unburied/unburned (depending on tradition) dead, or those dead by suicide, who wander without rest. Fuldaigh are twisted by their suffering and aggressive and harmful towards the living. Their spirits can usually be freed by their remains being found and properly laid to rest.

Pylidaigh: Very dangerous, very malicious spirits who emerge during snowstorms, known to kill humans via a crushing hug and drink their blood to warm their own eternally cold bodies (in most traditions, they are a variant of fuldaigh, specifically ghosts of unburied dead who died in snow or of hypothermia). They exist as pale, naked humans with very long arms, which they use to wrap around and suffocate their prey in a close embrace. They are only capable of traveling over snow; doorways and windows should always be kept clear of snowfall so they cannot get close enough to reach their freakish arms into your house.

Duirdaigh: A little-understood type of spirit known to haunt the remains of ancient, overgrown burial cairns that can be found scattered throughout the Highlands. The builders of these cairns were already long gone at the time of settlement by the first Hill Tribes, and their exact nature is regarded as a great mystery. The spirits keep to their mounds and are thus generally harmless, but are regarded as ones to wholly avoid. It's said that people who walk over the cairns will often disappear, never to be seen again. This is attributed to duirdaigh, who drag them beneath the cairns to an ambiguous but certainly horrifying doom.

Ancestor spirits: This is what the honored dead become upon reaching the afterlife in the Celestial Fields, a great landscape hidden behind the stars. They will continue to watch over their descendants and can temporarily return to the land of the living as guides. Depending on tradition, they either come to land as invisible spirits, or physically manifest as birds and use this form to fly from and to the Fields. In either case, the flight and behavior of birds can be read and interpreted into messages and omens from one’s ancestors (with some care, both given that birdsign messages can be subtle, and that wildfolk witches can become birds too and use this for the sake of trickery). Ancestor spirits go through their afterlives much in the same way as the living, farming, herding, eating, drinking, sleeping, etc. Their basic physical needs are sustained by the Fields (they are fed on the milk of heavenly cattle and will never starve or thirst), but they still must labor if they want additional foods and goods, or receive them as offerings from living descendants.

While respected and generally assumed good-natured, ancestor spirits inflict punishments against lawbreakers and oathbreakers, and may also punish descendants who do not rightly honor them, or if they are merely insulted. A testy and contemptuous relative in life will likely remain so in death, and one should take care to keep them appeased. Naming and honoring one's ancestors and practicing routine offerings is the foremost form of spiritual protection, and will ultimately allow you to reach the afterlife. The veneration of and guidance from deceased ancestors is central to cultural practice, these are by far the most important spirits in day to day life (generally outstripping gods in importance as well).

Heavenly cattle: The cattle that inhabit the Celestial Fields. Traditions usually accept these as the ghosts of dead cattle, but some tales imply that they are separate entities created specifically for the afterlife (or a combination of the two, as they are known to breed). Their existence is credited to the agricultural goddess Od, who first brought them to the heavens to ensure the people remained fed in the afterlife. Ancestor spirits are sustained for perpetuity on their milk.

Queen of Spiders: a mostly benevolent entity, the first spider and mother of all other spiders. The hero Kulyos received her boon, and now her children feed on nasty biting flies and mosquitoes and trap malicious spirits in their webs, and are thus readily welcomed into the home. If you kill a spider, you should say an apology to the Queen of Spiders. Otherwise, she will punish you by not sending more spiders into your house.

King of Eagles: Created by and the husband of the storm goddess Ariakh, father of the Winds and dragons, the first eagle and chief of all birds. He is the one who brought fire to humanity, stealing it from the sun god Hraighne. He is elevated to the status of a god in some traditions (which describe him as the creator of birds, rather than simply the first), and is one of very few non-ancestor spirits to commonly receive veneration.

Animal masters: Spirits associated with each and every type of animal, being the first of each kind that was created. Most animal masters play little to no role in cultural practice and are merely acknowledged as an aspect of reality- there had to have been a first of every animal, so this is it. (This may have elements of syncretism with animistic practices ancient Wardi/Wogan tribes, accepting the notion that each kind of animal has a spirit, but not adopting additional levels of significance). Animal masters mostly appear as characters in folktales told for pure entertainment, with the biggest exceptions being the Queen of Spiders and King of Eagles listed above (having greater cultural significance). A few individual tribes place significance on additional animal masters (or interpret certain gods as also having been such), but no other animal masters have this degree of ubiquitous cultural status.

The Winds: spirits of the wind, the eldest sons of the storm goddess Ariakh and the King of Eagles. They are regarded as giant dragons, but will sometimes take the form of humans or hawks. They herd their mother's cattle in the clouds.

Mak-Urudain: A gigantic dírgrahdain dog with fiery fur and eyes like stars, who watches over the Celestial Fields as its guardian. He allows the honored dead to enter, ancestors to come and go, and prevents evil spirits or dishonored dead from passing into the Fields. He also guards the heavenly cattle that are grazed there, fiercely protecting them from mere wild spirits and powerful gods alike. The goddess Ariakh is the only one who has ever succeeded in stealing cattle from him. He is sometimes considered to be the dog animal-master, though usually just accepted as a very unique dog. Represented by the dog constellation.

[leikeliscomet]

Who’s Afraid of Tenmartha? - Thoughts on Doctor Who’s Most Hated Ship 

All about attraction and desire, fandom morality and ‘ethical’ shipping, if that even exists.

Intro Chapter 1 - She Loves Me, He Loves Me Not Chapter 2 - Bad Girls Club Chapter 3 & Conclusion - All’s Fair in Love and Shipping

Intro

‘Martha deserved so much better than that’

This is the first thing you’ll hear if the word ‘Tenmartha’ is ever typed or spoken out loud. For many, Tenmartha is a problematic ship and one of their least favourites. But Doctor Who’s known for its messiness. The Master with their homicidal tendencies is still a big contender for Thoschei. Meeting River as a literal baby and her brainwashing didn’t stop the DoctorRiver train. There’s people who overlook the platonic bond of Ten and Donna and ship them romantically regardless. People even ship Thirteen and Graham. The ‘normal’ in the idea of a normal ship with the Doctor is doing A LOT of leg work when it comes to this show. But despite all of this, Tenmartha has taken the crown for the worst ship. Or at least, is sharing it with Thasmin. Tenmartha and Thasmin are battling out for the title of ‘worst’ ship but Tenmartha still has the upper (or lower?) hand. Whilst the thassies have built up a small community for themselves with zines and collabs galore, Tenmartha seems to take a beating every week on the tl and even outranking the more ‘problematic’ ships I just listed in most hated ship polls. If Tenmartha’s lucky to rank high you can bet the ‘why would you do that to Martha’ tweets fill the quotes. But on the flipside, we’re also in a Tenmartha renaissance, with Tenmartha archive accounts going viral every other day and viral snippets from series 3 because of how interesting the dynamic was. It seems Tenmartha is a marmite ship; you love it or you hate it. In the eyes of some it’s awful and for others it's Doctor Who’s guilty pleasure.

I don’t ship Tenmartha mainly from the fact I don’t really care about the Doctor’s ships like I did when I was a kid and I care more about companion ships generally (this is strictly a Clani and IanBarbara household only!). But also from the main fact I really don’t like how Ten (and RTD) treated Martha in series 3 at all. But, when you factor in the long-existing Martha Jones hate train, the misogynoir towards Freema Agyeman, the long history of fandom’s hatred of interracial ships, society’s even longer dynamics of romance, sex and how Black people especially Black women participate, or if we’re even allowed to in the first place, plus the concept of morality when applied to Black characters, I can’t say the anti-Tenmartha wave is entirely in good faith. Especially from how I’ve already done a deep dive into how Martha and Freema Agyeman’s treatment was rooted in rampant antiblackness and misogynoir. Is the buzz around Tenmartha fully about her ‘deserving better’ or are there missing pieces of the puzzle? Is Tenmartha even being shipped in good faith? Is there an ‘ethical Tenmartha’? I’m gonna try to unpack my thoughts on Tenmartha, its fans, its antis, everything in between and outside.

It’s time to ask the question, who’s afraid of Tenmartha? And most importantly, why?

Chapter 1 ->

[uispeccoll]

Voices from the Stacks

Ul'nigid'

Ul'nigid'is a moveable book by artist Rhiannon Skye Tafoya, created in 2019 at the Women’s Studio Workshop in Rosendale, New York. This is edition six of 44, signed by the artist.

The book can take on multiple forms and shapes, with an accordion pamphlet and movable walls made of woven paper. When fully unfolded and standing up, the book resembles a basket. It features five poems in English with accents in Cherokee syllabary. The poems are those of remembrance, healing, love, home, and heritage. The cover shows an illustration of the artist’s grandmother, and the title is printed in both English and Cherokee.

The piece draws on traditional Cherokee weaving techniques used for river-cane basket making, but with the artists own contemporary weaving design. Instead of white oak and rivercane, she uses handmade paper. In her artist’s statement, Tafoya explains that the weaving design “represents the energy of my indigenous lineage as well as the urge to break out of boxes that a colonized society puts my identity, culture, and art into.”

The book was made in honor of the artists maternal grandmother, Martha Reed-Bark, who was a Cherokee medicine-woman and basket weaver. The title Ul'nigid’, which translates to “strong,” embodies her resilience and spirit.

From the publisher: “Ul’nigid’ is a demonstration of love and remembrance, wherein each technical process portrays strength and delicacy, allowing the artist to communicate a contemporary indigenous voice with deep influences from her traditional grandmother.”

Rhiannon Skye Tafoya is a printmaker, weaver, digital designer, and book artist affiliated with the Eastern Band Cherokee and Santa Clara Pueblo tribes. She earned her Master of Fine Arts in print media from Pacific Northwest College of Art in Portland, Oregon, and her Bachelor of Fine Arts in printmaking and sculpture from the Institute of American Indian Arts in Santa Fe, New Mexico. In her work, Tafoya seeks to share and preserve personal and familial stories, cultural knowledge, and the Cherokee language, while still paving her own journey through contemporary art.

Explore more artists’ books on InfoHawk+, the Book Arts Research Database, or visit us in person.  

-Anne M, Olson Graduate Research Assistant

[a-confused-spoon]

Jinx's haircut: how Powder and Ekko's story comes full circle

Hi! So, it appears Jinx will be cutting her hair short in season 2 (which is cool as fuck), and I’ve been seeing a lot of discussion on it, so I wanted to share my two cents 😊

I might refer to Jinx and Powder as if they are different ideantities, but I'm aware that's not how that works; it's just an easier way to express myself. Also english isn't my first language, so apologies for any possible wiritng mistake (this is a bit of a mess 😅)

* deep breath in *

As it has already been pointed out, this choice must have a deeper reason other than esthetic (I've been seeing the phrase "hair holds memories" used a lot), and what's even more interesting is that her new look resembles a lot how she used to look like as a kid; a bit bizarre, given how the entirety of season 1 showed us how Powder and Jinx's coexistence only brings the girl pain. As a matter of fact, the finale makes it clear to us that even she sees these two sides of herself as mutually exclusive.

So why and how exactly would this happen now?

What I keep going back to is the idea that maybe, just maybe, this has to do with her possibly "taking the lead" in Zaun; whether she actively becomes a leader or if she just "leads by example" (therefore passively), it doesn't change the fact that for better or worse she will be depicted as a leading revolutionary figure.

And fair enough: she singlehandedly killed half of the Council, the people who hold decisional power and have contributed to the misery on the other side of the river. After Vender's failed attempt on the bridge and Silco's focus on his own business dealings with Piltover among everything else he did, Jinx's attack on the city - something she does to ultimately solidify her identity as Jinx - opens a door that the Undercity was waiting to be opened for decades.

Here's the thing:

Being Jinx doesn't just mean acting on unbridled rage and being a menace to society; it means being feared by most, if not all, with the only possible exceptions being those who also accepted their inner monster. To put it in Singed's words, "If you take this path, they will despise you".

Being Jinx fundamentally implies loneliness.

Silco was consistently reminding her this: "I am your family; everyone else betrays us" / "Everyone betrays us Jinx! Vander! Her! They will never understand, it's only us".

In the official clip 'Enemy of my enemy' we find out that he only saw her cry twice, the two scenes we also witness as an audience, meaning he didn't see her cry once during the timeskip, and I'm sure it's safe to say that she most definitely did cry a lot given how she goes from episode 3 Powder (scared, couldn't grasp the concept of killing someone, heartbroken by the nickname jinx) to episode 4 Powder (a beast, kills in cold blood, has taken Jinx as her actual name)... it must've been an ugly transition, and it definitely didn't happen overnight; if Silco, who was the closest person she had all that time, didn't see it, then I think it speaks a lot on how alone Jinx really was in her darkest times.

For all the love he had for her, he reinforced this idea of isolation as an unescapable consequence of the right path, and I think this is also reflected in the lair that (supposedly) he found for her, especially when you compare it to the Firelights’ one:

The Firelights (this is important for later) are all about community and sharing joy as well as struggle and pain; they live in a place of healing, filled with life, without a roof so the sunlight can reach them during the day, and at nights living bugs that shine a light of their own fill up the hideout.

Jinx's place is diametrically opposed to this: it’s dark and looks cold, it's completely made of metal, the roof’s blocking any natural light and it hangs above an abyss with no bottom to be seen; the only company she consistently has are the puppets of her dead brothers and the only living thing that knows his way in is the only one that can understand, the only one she can rely on - aka Silco himself.

However, as Jinx herself knows, this may have worked for him, but it wasn't working for her for the longest time: she never stopped yearning for affection, love, friendship- that part of her never really went away; it was only being suppressed, suffocated, maybe unintentionally, and I strongly believe that it only worsen her trauma, and it's one of the things that made her spiral so bad into her depression, to the point of hallucinating.

I think that Silco's line in the baptism scene is particularly relevant here: "You need to let Powder die, so the fear of pain will no longer control you", where the fear of pain would refer to the fear of being on her own, of always failing and disappointing others, of being weak and never satisfying the desires, expectations, hopes that Powder carried within her to be “a valuable member of the team”.

If she lets Powder die (which again, she does in the final episode of season 1), this is no longer a problem: if she doesn't do teams, because teams don't want a jinx to begin with, that fear can't get to her; if she's a solo player, a self-sufficient loose cannon, she won't need to rely on anyone but herself because she's strong on her own and does not need the support of others.

If her power lays in the monster she is, the one everyone condemns her for being, then that childhood wish of hers just isn't a realistic option.

...but then this happens.

We know from the teaser trailer that in the operation Caitlyn's leading, 'finding Jinx' and 'neutralize any agent still loyal to Silco' are separate objectives. Which makes sense, since as far as they know Silco was the leader of a group of people, and now that he's gone Jinx is an individual under her own agency and her own agency alone. If initially she fights by herself, for herself because she can and fuck Piltover, then it all falls in line with what I stated so far.

But then we hear Sevika, who has hated Jinx's guts and who Jinx has hated back since day one, telling her to get the people together, to unite the Undercity as one because she can do that. Mind you, the girl has lived in Zaun all her life, she knows damn well that the end of Piltover is something the entire Undercity has been waiting for (“Imagine what the whole of the Lances could do!” from episode 2); yet despite this she needs to be openly told what is going on, that she’s not sizing the opportunity she’s created. She isn't, cause... her? Leading? A group of people? No. Not after the last time she tried to help, and most importantly, not after everything she learned under Silco.

Jinx can't fathom the idea of herself as a part of a part of a team. How can she? She literally just came to terms with isolation as ever present- and now, for some reason, the people of the city, who always either ran away from her or wanted her gone, are dying their hair blue in her image, trusting her, following her, painting murals of her as the bringer of revolution.

She isn't taking power forcibly like Silco did; she's just doing her thing, her Jinx thing, and Zaun, on its own, is choosing her as the leading figure.

Imagine how frustrating it must be for Jinx to look back and realize that Silco, her father- who has loved her, forgiven her, raised her, called her perfect, defended her, was there for her, saved her, guided her- was wrong, and put her in a condition of never ending existential pain when she could’ve had it differently the entire time; imagine how confusing it must be for her to look back and realize that it never mattered whether or not others understood her, 'cause she wasn't as unlovable or unforgivable as she thought herself to be in the first place, that Silco and Vi were never her only options.

Imagine how painful it must be for her to look back and realize that for all this time she could’ve had friends and be accepted and be trusted and rely on others because she never HAD to be alone.

...keeping this in mind, let's talk about Ekko and the missing flashback from episode 7 for a moment.

Admittedly we don’t have a lot of information, other than it took place not too long after the events of episode 3 (then again, to be fair, we don’t know a lot about their relationship as enemies as well: it’s all between the lines; I surely have my own opinions of how they feel about each other being on the enemy side, but I don’t believe it’s super relevant here). What’s for sure about this flashback is that it was a defining moment in both Ekko and Powder’s journey, especially for the latter. Someone surely died, and it 100% was Powder’s fault. It could be both the result of her very first crisis or her first intentional murder; in both cases it results in her deciding for herself to align with Silco as opposed to her best friend.

The way I like to see it is that, since the trauma was still very fresh, she might have been too scared of the idea of fighting alongside others after what happened last time, and she pushed herself to kill someone on purpose just to push Ekko away and prove a point (Silco’s point). I love the idea of the tragic irony of Ekko being the one person Powder managed to really save, and Powder being the one person Ekko couldn’t.

Personal headcanons aside though, the last part is the most important one here: Ekko couldn’t save Powder from Silco, and by extension everything he represents.

I’d like to point out that one of the most tragic aspects of the two becoming enemies (to me) is that, throughout those years, they reciprocally were the only living person the other shared a past with (well, Vi too, but she was in prison the entire time).

Silco not only takes over by force, he also marks as his all the places of said past: the Last Drop, Vi and Powder’s house… one line that always stuck with me from episode 7 is when Ekko tells Vi “All that’s left is Jinx, and she belongs to Silco”.

Not with Silco; to Silco. As if she too a piece of the past he turned into his property.

It’s like he understands that while yes, Powder made the decision by herself, that she wants to stay with Silco, he also knows that the man is the one to blame for... well, all of it; the kid was there when Silco showed up unprovoked at Benzo’s place, he knows things went downhill from there.

Ekko knows that he is the bigger problem and the bigger enemy. Even Vi, without knowing a thing about the past few years, can tell Silco put some shit into her sister’s head; Ekko can probably guess the same, difference being that Ekko has the responsibility of keeping other people safe, and he can’t risk it all for someone that, while possibly manipulated, ultimately isn’t collaborative. Ekko can’t jeopardize all he’s built and done for his former best friend, no matter how much it hurts him to be her enemy.

Back to season 2.

Like the entire fandom has already pointed out, there’s a 99.9% chance there will be an alliance between them and Jinx, especially when looking at Ekko’s new outfit.

Of course, this will not be immediate: my guess is that while Jinx works alone at the very start Ekko will be with Heimerdinger and following the arrest of the Firelights we see in the trailer maybe there’s a split. And even after Jinx takes charge so to speak, and possibly frees them, among others, from Stillwater, it’s possible there will be (and there should be) stages in the alliance: initial distrust, potential fight within the community- like yeah, let’s not forget what Jinx did to these people.

Even if they do go ahead with it, it is probably out of necessity more than anything else, with not one but two military forces against the whole of the Underground. It’s not like they’d be the most ecstatic faction about it, and the same goes for Ekko, which is why the new look will probably come in later.

But exactly like he could see Powder for a brief second on the bridge clearly enough for him to stop himself from beating her, he will, most definitely, see her again through Jinx's inner turmoil... that, and she also can’t keep her shit together when it comes to what she's feeling, the girl really is an open book.

And yeah, the situation would be pretty emotionally disorienting: she's being as Jinx as ever, but people like her now, which is something she used to want as Powder, who is supposed to be dead, and they're willingly following her like they willingly followed Vander and there's murals of her with him, though she's pursuing what aligns more with Silco's dream, but also turns out Silco was wrong about Powder, who might still be alive deep down- the whole thing is a big big mess.

Despite everything that I said about him, it’s not like Jinx would start to resent Silco. She could never, not after his last words to her. They mean the world to her, he means too much to her, and let’s not forget she probably hear his voice now too, along Mylo’s and Claggor’s; it might even be a calming voice to her, one she’s happy to hear even if she knows he’s not real… which makes it all worse and more painful to deal with.

In this scene from the trailer, it seems like Ekko’s talking to her (some have pointed out the blue hair out of focus). Since this is still the look in season, at this point in time Ekko (and the rest of the Firelights) are not truly committed to this alliance with Jinx, and vice versa, Jinx is still figuring out how to deal with all this unexpected appreciation.

If there’s one thing we’ve learned about Jinx’s way of dealing with inner conflicts, especially ones that deal with the memories of the past, is that it often leads to disaster. This is a bit of a long shot, but what if the reason Ekko’s so beat up Is because she unintentionally sabotaged one of their own attacks on Piltover? Or perhaps they were caught up in a tough situation because of something she did or didn’t do? My point is that if he really is talking with her while in this condition, she probably is in a similar one.

Regardless, they are on the same side, and they are having a conversation. This is very likely the first time they reach out for each other since the day she chose to not go with him.

And I think it’s believable that of all the people she now has beside her, she’d talk to Ekko: he has this leader stuff already figured out. He has and still is taking care of people and keeping them safe better than she ever will, and on top of that, he still is the only one in Zaun (again, aside from Vi) who has known her since before she was Jinx, and he spared her on the bridge. He’s the perfect person to open up to.

And, get this, not only Ekko understands the pressure of taking the lead: he knows what it means to look back at someone you were fond of and feeling the pain of being wronged by them. He knows what it’s like to look back at old memories of someone you trusted and wonder if all those moments together really were what you thought they were, he knows what it’s like to wish it could all go back like it was, just so that candid version of them you have in your mind can still be true, present and untainted by the ugliness that now ruins all those precious moments.

He knows, 'cause he went through it with her... and now he can finally reach her.

Ekko may have not been able to save her from Silco then, but he can save her from Silco now.

And since he has built a community that grieved together, went through pain and joy together, he simply does what he’s always done with the Firelights. Sharing.

He tells with her what has worked for him: “Sometimes, taking a leap forward means leaving a few things behind”- in the Franch dub he says “leaving a part of oneself behind”- meaning it doesn’t have to be all or nothing: she has the power to choose what to kiss goodbye and what can stay…

…and then she cuts her hair.

I think it’s important to note how these two moments are very similar in setting. I kid you not, the first time I watched the trailer I was convinced this was a scene where Jinx was burning Silco’s body after she killed him- which frankly could still be the case. I’ve also seen discussions being made for the little girl we see in the trailer being burned here, or Sevika, but I don’t think it’s either. Jinx is completely desensitized to death, even when Silco died her makeup isn’t this ruined. My guess is that this is something much deeper:

Jinx never properly grieved the past. Ever. So, maybe, she’s burning the part of herself she’s leaving behind. The hair she cut.

The hair Silco used to braid for her.

These two scenes parallel each other because “nothing ever stays dead”, but Silco must stay dead, for her own sake. For her own happiness: she is leaving him behind for good.

Only after this moment we get the new look for Ekko: he can work with this new Jinx, the one that now knows she can work within a team, even to the point of committing to the outfit (lol).

If in season 1 Jinx accepted her identity as it was defined by Silco, in season 2 she's re-inventing it under her own conditions: she gets to choose what "being Jinx" may or may not include. And it will always include a little bit of Powder.

Thanks for reading! 💚💙

[secretmellowblog]

Before writing Les Mis, Hugo’s beloved 19-year-old daughter Leopoldine tragically drowned. As a result Les Mis is full of drowning imagery— drowning as a a symbol of impossible grief and loss, drowning as a symbol of being left behind by a society that doesn’t care about protecting your life, drowning as a method of suicide.

The les mis letters chapter today is the first chapter where Hugo highlights the drowning imagery that becomes central to the rest of the novel. The horrible symbolic death Valjean suffers as a result of being entirely isolated and forgotten by a society that doesn’t value his life is also foreshadowing of Javert’s eventual death.

Throughout the novel, Eponine also frequently talks about her desire to drown herself in the Seine; Thenardier monologues about how “the river is the true grave” and when bodies fall in it “justice makes no inquiries;” later Valjean escapes prison by faking his death by drowning, and so on and so on. There’s this emphasis that drowning doesn’t just mean death, it means erasing yourself from existence. It means you’re forgotten.

One of the saddest references to the death of Leopoldine is the way Valjean and Javert learn about the other’s death (or “death.”)

Hugo learned about his daughter’s death not from a family member/friend, but by reading about it in a newspaper. He was on vacation away from his family at the time. He was reading the news in a cafe and happened to stumble on an article about Leopoldine’s horrible tragic drowning, which was how he first learned that she was dead.

When Javert learns about Valjean’s “death” in prison (when Valjean pretends to drown in order to escape), he learns about it by reading it in the newspaper. When Valjean learns about Javert’s death by drowning, he learns about it by reading it in the newspaper.

So…yeah :(. Les Mis is full of all these agonized metaphors around drowning (as a metaphor for death/grief/being entirely forgotten by the people around you) and part of that comes from Hugo’s own deep personal trauma around the death of death of his daughter.