#I'm just SO TIRED

[i-drop-level-one-loot]

How to train your pet Human pt.2 (Yandere!Alien X GN!Reader)

part 1, part 3

CW: Abduction, imprisonment, yandere themes, death, pet/owner relationship, tickle torture, humiliation, sexual themes, angst

"There they are~" Kirtch bent to pick (Reader) up, lifting them easily like a child and carrying them with one hand under their butt. (Reader's) face scrunched up in embarrassment. They were wearing an ugly shirt, both baggy and synched tightly, flowy around the body but locked in place like a neck corset at the top and wrists. When Kirtch first presented the tacky gift, (Reader) had ran to hide, forcing Kirtch to wrestle the outfit onto them.

With all of the unnecessary buttons and ties, (Reader) was incapable of taking it off themselves, and was now sulking.

"I have a lot of duties today that cannot be completed in my office, so I thought you might enjoy coming with me so you don't have to be couped up alone." Kirtch gently knocked his forehead into (Reader's).

'Escape chance, escape chance, escape chance-' "Yeah, that sounds nice." (Reader) tried to contain their excitement, consciously aware of their heart beating loudly in their chest.

"Wonderful! I've packed a couple of toys to keep you occupied if you get bored, as well as snacks." He replied happily, seeming so pleased with himself as he briskly walked down the hall from his bedroom towards the main hall. The two passed by many other aliens walking up and down the corridors, none of whom seemed to be the same species as Kirtch. Everyone wore the same cloak, standing them out from the creatures in the shopping district, a uniform slightly lighter in color than Kirtch's. Most would pause while walking to rub a hand over where their noses should have been, and Kirtch would raise a hand in response.

"What are they doing?" (Reader) whispered.

"It is a sign of respect. I am their superior, so if they are not in a rush to get somewhere they are greeting me."

Fear tickled (Reader's) spine. "Are you guys in the military?"

Kirtch laughed, a high pitch clicking sound that almost sounded like a broken music box. "No. I'm just an upper level leader in our trading company."

They arrived in front of a decorated wall, and Kirtch squeezed (Reader) a little while smiling. "Now this is a very important meeting, I need you to be as quiet as possible, okay?"

(Reader) huffed. "I'm not a child."

"I know you aren't. You're a very sweet pet, who is most definitely a grown adult human."

They felt humiliated. It had been almost a month since they were bought by Kirtch, and they did everything in their power to not anger him or appear as though they needed "release". (Reader) constantly watched and waited for the perfect escape attempt, while fighting off Kirtch's affections in as non threatening a way as possible. Like they were emulating a cat. (Reader's) skin burned, but they held back their tongue.

The wall opened, revealing a board room (at least that's what (Reader) assumed it was), a bare room only decorated with a long table surrounded by stools. Kirtch sat (Reader) on the floor and pulled out a sack from the inside of his cloak. While they didn't want to immediately act the part of a good pet, (Reader) was curious as to what was in the bag. The first thing they pulled out, however, was a taxidermied cat. (Reader's) eyes widened, and they couldn't contain their anxiety, shaking as they stared into the cat's glass eyes. Was this some kind of threat?

"Do you like it? I've been meaning to buy you more human toys, so I thought you would appreciate a stuffed animal." Realizing that the 'gift' was not malicious, the nervousness immediately dissolved into mental fatigue.

"Oh. I get it. Stuffed animal. Yeah." They put the animal back in the bag, hoping Kirtch didn't think their exhausted smile was permission to buy more dead bodies.

More aliens entered the room, greeting Kirtch before taking their seats. (Reader) couldn't understand what the meeting was about, since they were all speaking in Kirtch's native tongue, but their voices and faces were tense. The meeting went on for well over an hour, but (Reader) found it surprisingly entertaining, dubbing over their conversation inside their mind like Mystery Science Theater, chuckling with how wild their hand movements were. It was very human of them.

(Reader) fucked up, accidently snorting at one of the angrier aliens. Although they didn't understand the language, one of his sentences sounded awfully like "Pineapple farts", and with how intense his face was, it made it seem like he was describing how his ass felt. Their sound was so quiet it was almost inaudible, but the alien still noticed and spun his head in (Reader's) direction so quickly his exoskeleton creaked. (Reader) bit their lip to hide a smile, turning away from the conference to pretend to munch on their fruit (?) slices.

The irate alien began ranting louder, and (Reader) caught a word they had heard from a few of the underlings they had been introduced to. Bah-blk. Human.

Shit.

They snuck a glance towards the group very slowly to view Kirtch's expression, worried they may have angered him by interrupting the meeting. And indeed, his almost perfectly flat face was pulled into a scowl, but it wasn't aimed at (Reader).

"(Reader), pet, could you come here for a moment?"

His voice was light and smooth, as it always was when speaking to (Reader), but Kirtch's face was grave as he refused to break eye contact with the alien in front of him; said alien's shell glistened like he was sweating under Kirtch's glare. (Reader), not wanting to be punished later, left their spot on the floor and shuffled over to their owner. Kirtch pulled (Reader) into his lap the second they were within his reach, still staring daggers at the poor alien across the table.

He spoke to the offender, holding (Reader) lovingly with one arm as if to make a point. The man was panicked, waving his arms and sweating profusely, sounding apologetic. It wasn't enough, whatever it was he was saying. He referenced (Reader) as Bah-blk again, and then he was dead.

Before (Reader) could understand what it was that Kirtch had pulled out of his robe, a soundless shot was fired across the table, green blood splattering across the wall as the alien's head was pierced by some kind of projectile.

Everyone turned away, unsurprised by the killing. It was a lukewarm reaction, as though this wasn't the first time they witnessed someone die at Kirtch's hand. The body fell, head slamming into the table with a wet thud.

(Reader) didn't know what he had said, but to kill him... It was jarring. The young adult hadn't payed any attention to the tears dripping down their chin until Kirtch wiped them off. The roughness of his hand startled (Reader), making them flinch away from his touch.

For the rest of the meeting (Reader) couldn't pry their eyes away from the dead body lying across from them. It was a nightmare seemingly without an end, staring at a corpse while his murderer held (Reader) tenderly, rubbing his thumb on their side absentmindedly while discussing business with colleagues like it was a regular Tuesday.

If (Reader) was more aware, they would be disgusted with themselves for not fighting Kirtch as he picked them up to go back to their room, but they just wanted to go back to the safety of their *bed*, and couldn't force their brain to focus on anything else.

The bed was more like a twin sized pillow nestled in a metal cage, but it was soft and felt secure, like when (Reader) was young and thought that hiding under their blanket would protect them from the shadow people in their closet.

"Are you alright, (Reader)?" Kirtch asked, his voice full of concern.

(Reader) curled up, pulling the blanket tight over their face.

Kirtch sighed, and crouched down by (Reader's) bed. "(Reader), please don't be upset with me. If this is about my colleague, please know that what I did was necessary."

"Murder is never necessary."

"He tried to accuse me of not being.. as invested in the job as I should be. And that the reason for my lack of dedication was you. He used very strong language." Kirtch placed a hand on (Reader's) back. "I told him not to disrespect you. Yet he continued."

(Reader) began crying, shaking under Kirtch's touch. "Are you saying that I'm the reason he's dead?"

"Oh, pet.." Kirtch sighed again, pulling (Reader) out of the fetal position and into his arms. "I've always been incredibly interested in humanity. When I was a young child, there was a 'book' in my father's study about primitive species, and that's how I learned about humans. Did you know that you and I experience life differently from one another? Our brains function differently. We have different pain receptors; our brains' physiology are almost nothing alike; the diseases humans are capable of developing simply for existing are concepts we've never had to worry about. Even how we perceive the color spectrum, humans are so unlike any other sentient species I have met."

"I was so fascinated by Earth, especially by humans. We are not allowed to visit Earth as it is a restricted area, so much of what we know is recorded knowledge from captured defectors. My chances of meeting a human were next to none. Then, we had to dock in Dol-Hu, a shady planet only inhabited by criminals and those in hiding. And wandering through the market, I saw you."

"The one thing I've always wanted, for the past seventy years, I recognized you as a human immediately, even though you were so much cuter than I could have expected. You're so soft, and fragile, in comparison to my armoured flesh. You were bent over, but I knew from descriptions I had memorized what you were. As one who has always loved Earth, I am fluent in every Earth language we know of, so I was excited to communicate with you. I was so eager to have a piece of humanity. And now here you are."

(Reader) rolled over, their heart clenching painfully as they looked up into Kirtch's sadly smiling face. "I wonder what I look like through your eyes."

Their heart began doing somersaults in their throat as the tears continued flowing.

"You may have been the only human I've ever known, but I can say with confidence that you must have been the best humanity had to offer. I only want to give you the best life possible."

(Reader) wrapped their arms around Kirtch's midsection, sobbing loudly. His body didn't bend or squish under the full strength of (Reader's) embrace. And that was how (Reader) fell asleep, crying themselves into a nap.

When they awoke, they were alone, lying in the bed with the cat tucked into their arms. (Reader) left the room to find Kirtch at his desk, working on paperwork. The giant heard (Reader) behind him, and turned his attention on them, smiling as he held out his arms in an offer to pick them up. And much to his surprise, (Reader) willingly entered into his embrace, and allowed him to set them on his lap without pouting or making a fuss.

"I have a few more documents to look over, then I can play with you, okay?"

"Okay." Their voice was quiet and monotone, (Reader's) mind still fuzzy from crying so much before falling asleep.

"Are you still upset? Is there anything I can do to make you happy?"Kirtch laid down his work, trapping (Reader) in his arms.

"No.. you can continue working."

"You're more important than my work. I consider your unhappiness to be a crises."

Worry began to prick at (Reader's) skin. "I'm really fine, we don't need to play!"

"Need?"

Memories of the day (Reader) was bought flashed through their mind, causing them to go red and hot as they started to squirm in Kirtch's embrace. "I-I- didn't mean it like that!"

One hand left (Reader's) body to grab something from Kirtch's desk. "Don't fret, I recently purchased a new toy I thought would bring you joy."

(Reader's) eyes bulged out as they froze in anticipation, their heart hammering in their chest. But what Kirtch retrieved did not appear safe to go near any genitalia, a strange contraption formed of multiple thin prongs on a handle. Embarrassed that they had assumed something sexual was about to happen, (Reader) bit the inside of their cheek, puzzling over the strange discomfort they were feeling. "What's that?"

Kirtch raised (Reader's) shirt, and dragged the device across their skin, causing an involuntary shudder. It tickled.

"Ah! No!" (Reader) accidentally laughed, trying to push Kirtch away. He trailed the toy from their pelvic area visible above their pants to their left armpit. The light tingling sensation forcibly clenched their stomach muscles as they let loose a howl of laughter.

They couldn't breathe correctly, laughing so hard that their spasming abdominals made it feel like they were choking. But they couldn't stop, begging Kirtch to "knock it off" while their cheeks hurt from the smile they had. That damn toy tickled every inch of their body, not even noticing when Kirtch removed their pants. They kicked futilely, unable to break free from the assault. Their sensitive skin was almost becoming painful to the touch, but the laughter only got louder.

"pleASE! KIRTCH, stop!!" (Reader) heaved. Their whole body felt tender, highly reactive to each touch. Which made them aware of the fact that the only thing separating them from Kirtch's lap was a thin pair of underpants. With how they had been writhing on his lap, they were relieved that Kirtch didn't seem to have a dick that could become aroused from such movements.

(Reader's) smile fell. I have no idea how Kirtch's species reproduces. Maybe he can get erections, but he won't get one for me because he sees me as a pet. An animal. Their heart turned to concrete as it dropped out of its cage.

Kirtch halted his attack when he saw (Reader) go limp. "Are you tuckered out, pet?"

(Reader) tried to slide off his lap like jelly. "I'm done playing. I want to go back to bed."

"Alright, my stubborn little grump, what is it now? You were all smiles but a second ago, so what is it plaguing your mind?"

They tried to scrunch up their nose to prevent more tears from sheepishly forming. "I'm not a pet. I'm a human. I want to be treated like an equal!"

Kirtch's smile was replaced by a hurt scowl. "Is it so unpleasant being my pet?"

"No!" (Reader) interjected, not understanding why it pained them so much to see Kirtch upset, "I just want to, I just.. I don't know. This is confusing, and it feels.. weird. You're really nice to me, and sometimes it feels like... but then other times you treat me like I'm a cat. This isn't what I want. Either be a bastard and treat me like an animal or treat me like-" Their words caught in their throat. Treat me like what?!

A fearful kiss was placed on their forehead, ghostly with hardly any pressure. Kirtch's hands trembled on (Reader's) sides. "All I wish is to adore you for the rest of your life."

He pulled (Reader) into his chest, petting their back in a comforting manner. "I'll give you anything you ask for, I'll do anything you ask of me. Just to keep you happy, with me. You are all that I've ever wanted. All I wish is to care for you, and spend all my attention on you. If there is anything you want, please ask me. I need you to love me."

(Reader) felt so confused. Like a squid was destroying their gut, everything was uncomfortable and scary. They knew that Kirtch viewed them as a pet, he loved them how (Reader) loved their family dog as a child. But when they heard him begging for their love, it made them wish for an odd moment that he wasn't an alien. That (Reader) was sitting on their boyfriend's lap right now, a strange human man who sometimes infantalized them but only out of affection. Why couldn't this be simple? Why did (Reader) want him to kiss them right at that moment?

"I want to go home. I want to meet someone kind and fall in love." (Reader's) words stabbed Kirtch in places he never knew could hurt.

"I can't do that, (Reader)..." Kirtch's embrace constricted almost painfully tight. "You're all I've ever wanted. You can't ask me to let you go. I'll take such good care of you, you'll see. I have the rest of your life to make you fall in love with me."

They sat there, holding one another in agonizing silence, both loving each other in a way that they couldn't explain. The way their brains functioned didn't just mean that Kirtch could see a wider range of colors than (Reader), but the way their species experienced love was too vastly different for the other to comprehend. Despite Kirtch wanting to own (Reader), that was the greatest love he had ever felt, since his species did not pair bond and only mated when two beings agreed amicably that they wished to procreate. He knew that humans felt many forms of love, love for a mate, love for their offspring, love for a friend.. but to something that never felt any of those forms of love, Kirtch couldn't understand the difference between them.

"I love you, my little pet. And I will always love you."

[lacrimosathedark]

I need the comic book fanfic writers to be made very aware of something:

Roy Harper is the only one to EVER call Jason Todd "Jaybird".

This isn't a family name that he picked up on, or that Roy made and the family has adopted. Roy is literally the only person to call him that. Dick doesn't, Babs doesn't, Bruce doesn't, nobody but Roy does.

The others call him Jay sometimes, in old comics Jace was said a few times (which I actually like and wish people would use literally at all). Bruce has said "Jay, lad" like once and fandom adopted him calling Jason "Jaylad" but that's not horribly egregious so I tolerate it. Dick occasionally calls Jason "little wing". That's about it.

Jaybird is very specifically a Roy Harper thing.

(Honestly yall better appreciate me actually looking back in RHATO 2011 because BOY do I hate this comic. It's not only poorly written, but in my opinion, ugly as fucking sin and I need to burn my retinas now)

That is the first instance of Jason ever being called "Jaybird", and it becomes a lowkey running gag that Roy calls him that and Jason "hates" it.

And then we get this post Heroes In Crisis

This whole thing may have been poorly written because, again, Scott Lobdell sucks, but the intent is to evoke intimacy to make Roy's death hurt. Jason is supposed to have just lost his best friend and was told by Bruce Wayne whose last appearance in his life was beating the shit out of him and, oh yeah, who saved Jason? Roy Fucking Harper.

In addition to the fact that Roy only left Jason to get help for himself. He was supposed to be in rehab/therapy, somewhere safe, and he fucking died because of handwavy Speedforce shenanigans or whatever it's been retconned to now because nobody liked Heroes in Crisis. Roy was supposed to be getting better and he died ostensibly in an accident. Like if that's not the worst fucking bullshit--

This scene of Jason calling himself by what he deems a stupid nickname would mean jack shit if everyone and their goddamn cat called him "Jaybird". But it being a Roy-specific thing makes this scene distinctly about Jason being vulnerable and actively grieving. It's such a cliche trope, and a real coping mechanism, to call a deceased loved one's phone just to hear their voice in their inbox message again. He probably has no thoughts that Roy will ever hear it so this is just for him, but he's letting himself accept this dumb nickname Roy gave him now because it was Roy that gave it to him and Roy is fucking dead.

Like, in fairness it probably frustrates me more because I ship the two and parallel it with Oliver calling Dinah "pretty bird", but like...even as just a cheeky friend nickname, nothing romantic behind it, having everyone else call Jason that feels wrong. Especially his family who he still has so many issues with and, like it or not, he's closer to Roy than literally any of the Bats at this point.

This isn't the only time I've seen the fandom do this (this being giving nicknames between characters that just don't exist); Jason calling Tim "replacement" is absolutely rampant in the fandom and I hate that too because he never calls Tim that, and refers to him as such like once. I have a whole list of actual nicknames and insults these motherfuckers call each other somewhere, but maybe another time.

In short

STOP HAVING EVERYONE CALL HIM JAYBIRD.

Thank you and have a nice day. <3

[sorun-var]

[micahisaglitch]

I’m just so fucking tired

[thelifelessgirl]

Everyone gets tired of me at some point.

Then eventually they’ll leave.

They all do.

[soaps-mohawk]

So...I don't think I'm going to get a chapter posted this weekend. I just don't have it in me to write right now and I know trying to force it isn't going to do me any good. I'm really not doing well mentally and every day it just seems like there's something else that gets thrown on the shit I'm already carrying so, yeah.

Probably not going to a new chapter this week.

[bg3-npc]

Extremely conflicted every time I see a response to the mistreatment of Wyll along the lines of "omg I didn't know this!?!"

Because like, I'm not about to scope out every blog that says this. I'm not about to see how deep they are in the game or if they're an outsider voicing support. However, one can assume if they're talking about BG3 related issues, they probably play and/or enjoy the game.

So seeing support and mutual anger is good! I'm glad you're now aware of these issues, hopefully you'll continue that awareness and continue to offer support! However.....

Why do so many of you have 0 knowledge of ANY of this? These issues become clear upon interacting with Wyll in any capacity. From just general approval, to romancing him, to playing his origin, all of this is obvious. Even more so when you interact with others along with Wyll. So for so many to have no idea about any of this, you have to have not interacted with Wyll at ALL.

For as important as Wyll should be to the story and game objective, you can easily play the entirety of it without Wyll. You have to be interested in him and be willing to initiate his story. Which means a majority of you just...haven't.

A majority of you have had no interest in the only black companion. You've had no desire to learn more about him, or have him in your party. While you can play without him, he is still vital to the story and you miss out on a lot by bypassing him. Yet many of you have been perfectly cool with that because of superficial reasons that are just excuses to be uncaring of a black protagonist.

Astarion doesn't matter to the story. Full stop. His story and quest is practically self contained and has nothing to do with the main objective. You lose nothing by not having him in your party. Yet so many of you have sought him out. Many of you have done little but interact with him alone. Many of you bought the game not because it appealed to you, but because Astarion was there. This shitty white dude with nothing to add to the game got you to spend money, but you're surprised to learn the single black protagonist has gotten fucked over?

I need all of you to be fucking for real with yourself. Think of something and someone besides yourself and consider why awful white men are the only people you're ever drawn towards.

[akasmileygirl]

Germany's government just fell apart. What a fucked up 24 hours it's been

[letteriwillneversend]

having parents that are nothing more than unfriendly strangers wearing familiar voices that say familiar things makes you wonder if there was ever any such thing as home.

it makes you wonder what it might be like to have a bad day and have someone you can call or talk to. what it might be like to have someone you can to for advice or comfort. what it might be like to have a shoulder or lap you can finally rest your head on. what it might be like to have a bowl of cut fruit that spells out unconditional love.

some days i find myself looking for home even when i don’t know what to look for.

[neolithicsheep]

Nothing quite stings like a cis person who genuinely cares about you deciding to ask another cis person about where it's safe for you to live and then telling you you're totally wrong cause this other cis person said so.

[i-drop-level-one-loot]

🎃 Why is it Red?

Blood CW: Death, zombies, blood, Dead Dove fic, non-con, oral, pain, bodily harm, sadism, dead dove

"Move! Move! Move!" (Reader) shot another undead between the eyes, splattering their face in gore due to the proximity.

The team of survivors ran through the back alleys of the dead infested city, climbing fences and garbage piles in an attempt to out maneuver the horde chasing them. It was dangerous and stupid, entering the hot zone like they did, but the survivors were running low on necessities so the adventure was a risk they had to take.

(Reader) cried out as their foot got caught in garbage, their ankle twisting on a piece of abandoned machinery, popping louder than the sound of their heavy boots falling on wet pavement. They collapsed in the empty alley, watching as their two comrades turned to them in fear.

"Go without me!" (Reader) shrugged off their backpack full of supplies, tossing it to the survivor closest to them.

"(Reader), don't give up-"

(Reader) pulled back the hammer on their gun, aiming it at their brother while forcing back their tears. They would try to limp their way back, but it was too important for those supplies to get to their camp; they couldn't risk the mission to drag (Reader) back with them. He got the hint, clenching his jaw tightly while trying not to break down himself. "I'll find my way back, go now!"

After the other two scuffled away, (Reader) was left in the eerie silence, straining their ears for the sounds of the deceased. They knew the horde would find them, it didn't matter how many alleys they had traveled through, nor how many obstacles they traversed. No one was as tenacious as a zombie.

Shuffling of torn shoes rounded a corner, multiple of the undead finding (Reader) much faster than they had hoped for. Their pant leg was rapidly darkening, blood sticking the fabric to their skin. Horrified, (Reader) unlaced their boot. In the adrenaline of the moment they hadn't realized that the popping sound wasn't their ankle getting sprained. Inside the boot (Reader's) bone poked through their skin.

They couldn't help but laugh.

Of course this was how they go out.

They had survived so much bullshit, and now they were going to die... because they broke their leg on a trash pile.

(Reader) killed one of the shamblers. There was no point in keeping quiet; their blood would attract the entire city. The next rotter also went down. Thankfully, these were the slower ones, the older ones. Once the sprinters came (Reader's) only choice would be to spare themselves from the pain of being eaten alive.

Groaning and snarling closed in on (Reader's) alley.

A fast one twitched her head towards (Reader), snapping her teeth as she tasted their blood in the air. She lurched, ready to charge, when something grabbed her from behind, ripping her head off and tossing it effortlessly.

Something stepped into view, horrifying (Reader). They had never seen such a thing, and the fight or flight response failed them, freezing them solid. They were used to killing zombies, but this..

It stood almost seven feet tall, pure white eyes with it's nose and lips torn off. The muscles looked as though they had suddenly grown on death, growing so quickly that it tore through it's skin. The stretched grey and red skin looked painfully tight, tearing in places from the strain of it's own mass. (Reader's) wide eyes traveled down it's form, observing it's painful physique, almost too numb from fear to register that it was naked.

The monster stalked closer, taking long strides towards the pitiful human, shaking too hard to aim their weapon. It reached down, ripping the bloody boot off (Reader's) swelling foot. They screamed in pain, snapping out of their petrification. A bullet landed right between the thing's eyes, but it only barely pierced it's thick skull, stopping before it even touched the brain.

"What the fuck?!" (Reader) hollered, tears cleaning the dirt from their cheeks. They went to fire again, but the creature yanked the gun away. It huffed, rolling it's blind eyes back. Pulling (Reader) up by their broken leg, they cried hysterically as they were suspended upside down.

It's tongue ran across their shin, shivering as it tasted (Reader's) blood. (Reader) wanted to know what was going to happen to them, but couldn't see the monster's face. And worse, their head was level to his nude pelvis, finally noticing it's giant cock raising towards them, growing larger by the second.

The thing growled, sucking and licking (Reader's) exposed bone with it's cold, rotting tongue. It slammed (Reader) against the wall, pressing it's dick against their lips. It reeked like piss and death, making (Reader) briefly wonder where that cock has been, or in what?

The slimy tip parted their lips. (Reader) tried to keep their teeth wired shut, but involuntarily opened to scream when their attacker stuck his tongue into the open wound, knocking loose shards of tibia. It took advantage of the pain to ram it's erection down (Reader's) throat, violently dislocating their jaw in the process.

It continued drinking from their leg as it forcefully face fucked (Reader), slamming their skull into the brick wall with each thrust of it's hips. The chipped teeth lightly grazed (Reader's) flesh, threatening to take a chunk out of their leg.

(Reader) couldn't breathe, the girthy cock from the corpse filling their throat so completely that it hurt to even try breathing through their nose. It tasted disgusting, like how a decomposing body smelled. Every time (Reader) focused on the pain in their throat and jaw, the creature fucked with their leg again, prodding (Reader's) gash to draw out more blood, spreading the hot fluid across it's face.

They thought they were going to pass out. Whether from the shock or from the lack of oxygen, they didn't know. Whenever the pain began to numb itself the zombie would pick up the pace, power jacking his dick into (Reader's) mouth, forcing their mandibular joint to creak, spreading a white hot fire across (Reader's) head as their jaw threatened to shatter. Craving the blood from (Reader's) ankle, it tightened it's grip on the break, cracking the bone further in it's paw, relishing in the red dribbling down it's chin.

A thick gunk sprayed into (Reader's) stomach, filling their neck so quickly that it squirted out their nose and plugged up the few gaps left in their airways. The cock twitched as more of it's foul cum filled (Reader's) body, making them ill, vomiting on the large member.

The creature seemed pleased, pulling it's newest toy off it's deflating organ. (Reader) continued barfing, trying not to notice that the color of the jizz they were spitting up was red.

(Reader) was slung over the zombie's shoulder, carried through the town to a fate worse than death..

[folklorespring]

My social medias are filled with deaths, blood, condolences, weeping, eulogies, anniversaries of war crimes, orphans, widows and widowers, parents burying their children, ruined homes, pets waiting for their dead families, air raid map, searches of missing people. Then I log off and see the same things in real life. Discuss the same things with other people. Hear other people discuss them. There's no escape from the horrors of war.

[micahisaglitch]

I’m sorry I’m not good enough

I’m sorry I’m a failure

I’m sorry I will never be anyone

I’m sorry I’m not worth it

I wish I was never born

[thelifelessgirl]

You hate when people see you cry because you want to be that strong person.

At the same time, though, you hate how nobody notices how torn apart and broken you are.

[hlizr50]

I was shown a post this morning (I think it was from Tumblr, but I'm not 100% sure) where someone asked if maybe something was LOST IN TRANSLATION because so many Gwynriel shippers aren't native English speakers.

Now...

I'm going to give this person the benefit of the doubt and believe that they truly don't mean anything negative by the question, even though the implications are... harmful to say the least.

Here's the deal, guys.

There are Gwynriel shippers all around the world because there are ACOTAR readers all around the world. The ship is not localized to a region or a language.

When people read books, the words on the page send a message. Sometimes, if we're super casual readers, the messaging is limited or we don't read a ton into it. For other readers who choose to delve deep into how the author writes to try to understand what might come next, it is obviously a bigger investment.

But at the end of the day, we all read the SAME BOOK (and bonus content) and those words made us all feel different ways. Made us want or predict different things. And that's all well and good. The problem comes up when we try to explain why we feel the way that we do.

I'm an engineer. Even though I enjoy creative writing and art, my brain is practical. I like having evidence. I like being able to identify trends and make an educated prediction based on them. As someone who ships Gwynriel, I have never denied that there are canonical moments where Azriel and Elain have some level of... something. On page. It would be ignorant of me to say that those moments don't exist. However, for the most part FROM WHAT I'VE SEEN, when a Gwynriel shipper tries to use canonical evidence to support their ship -- WHICH EXISTS -- it's a constant barrage of 'that's not what that means' or 'how could you read that romantically?' or 'Gwyn is just a side character'. And then there are the blatant hypocrisies, like how Azriel saving Elain from Hybern is romantic but Azriel saving Gwyn at Sangravah should never be mentioned ever again.

I guess what this long-winded ramble is trying to say is that there's nothing lost in translation. We've read the same story, and we believe Gwynriel makes sense. We lean on canon and trends in the author's style to support the ship, and then we headcanon the hell out of it, because fandom is supposed to be fun like that. Some people read the story and believe that Elriel makes sense, and that's perfectly fine. But don't come at a Gwynriel shipper, attacking their textual evidence with your headcanon that Elain was barely existed in ACOSF bc she was apparently training to be a spy and she and Azriel were falling in love completely off-page with nothing to show for it.

And don't you dare make an implication so blatantly out of bounds like blaming it on some strange translation error that somehow miraculously makes Gwynriel makes sense, but only if it's not in English. Like... give me a break. And... think about what you're saying. For A SINGLE MOMENT.

[perolesims]

We all have good and bad days... but why do bad days have to be so complicated? Today was one of those days where I felt insufficient all the time, and despite having imposter syndrome, I always strive to see the best in myself... but on days like today it's so difficult. If you feel this way too, I think you need to read this:

I believe in you.

you are important.

you are enough.

you are beautiful.

If you need a friend, I'm here.

you are not alone.

this too shall pass.

🧡 Let's spread kindness.