#Notoriously Morbid

[4th-make-quail]

also feat. lippie closeup cos it's a fucking awesome multichrome motherfucker hehe

[malhare-archive]

TIL that Team Plasma FUCKING CRUCIFIED all of the gym leaders in the manga? Hello??

[luvyeni]

( SPOOKTOBER ) little bunny ! 🦇 一 서영호 ՞

𝓟 airings. bearhybrid!johnny x bunny!reader wc. 0.7k

🕸️◞ WARNINGS. johnny is a mafia man cause why not, minor character death, oral ( johnny. receiving ), unprotected sex, size kink, breeding kink

「 ♱ authors note 」 brought back another group i used to write for day 5 !! enjoy !

he sighed hearing the commotion coming from the outside of his office door. “again?” the bear hybrid sighed. “there she goes again.” yuta the cheetah hybrid sat in his office. “how many johns are you gonna gun down in the club over the little bunny?” johnny stood up. “how many johns are gonna have to be gunned down until they realize the bunny isn't available?”

you were the first bunny ever to work at the infamous club run by notorious mafia and bear hybrid johnny suh; you were also the first bunny johnny ever had in his bed. johnny took a quick liking to you , both professionally and unprofessionally — giving you your weekly wage , plus a bit more for being such a good girl the night before.

to say that it came with problems was an understatement. once the news spread that infamous mafia hybrid johnny suh hired a cute new bunny hybrid to work at his club , his club became a new attraction for horrible hybrids who didn't have the same respect for prey hybrids like he did — they'd come in and let's just say a few of them didn't end up leaving.

“the bunny hybrid is a server not a dancer.” he said. “come on johnny, if you didn't hire the bitch bunny so we could have some fun , why is she here?” he really fucked up now. “ah you johns never learned to you?” johnny laughed to himself. “i said let her go.” the tiger hybrid growled, trying to intimidate the man. “don't tell me this bitch bunny has you going soft now?”

it all happened so fast; but you were used to it , johnny losing his temper and pulling out the glock he kept on his hip at all times , pulling the trigger before the guy could pull his. you shrieked , blood covering your body. “johnny.” you turned to him. “you messed up another one of my dresses.” he sighed. “seriously , my office now.”

“i told you , you stay behind the bar.” he said once he reached the office , the club cleared out already. “i was behind the bar.” you said , he scoffed. “yeah and how'd you end up pressed against the front of the bar?” he closed the door , locking it. “i'm losing customers.” you scoffed. “i don't ask you to shoot them.”

“yeah little bunny you're right , i can't help that.” he said , his hands resting on your shoulder. “this is why i told you to quit this job and let me take care of you , you can be my little stay at home bunny.” he said with a cheeky, you scoffed. “i like working here.” you said. “no you like stressing me out.”

he sat you down on the desk; standing in between your legs. “you have blood on your face.” he said wiping your cheek. “that's your fault.” he chuckled. “yeah it is.” he said , unzipping your pants. “let me apologize to you.” spreading your legs even more.

and that's how it always ends; you spread out , nose twitching as the bear pounded into you — it was a bit morbid , johnny killing people in your honor turning you on , but you couldn't help it , something about him being protective over you made you want to jump his bones. “fuck johnny!”

it amazed johnny how you always took his cock; the way your tiny cunt squeezed him , almost pushing him out sometimes , he knew you were too tiny , but you took him like a champ everytime. “tiny bunny.” he grunted. “always so pliant and ready to take my cock , even though it almost breaks you every single time.” his hands bruising your hips. “you're so wet , me killing people turns you on , doesn't it little bunny.”

you nodded , nose twitching. “y-yes johnny.” he groaned as you clenched around him. “sh-shit , you gonna cum bun.” he grunted. “cum for me little bunny.” his hand coming up to your bunny ears , scratching the sensitive spot. “oh fuck johnny , i’m cumming!” you screamed. “fuck.” he growled. “fuck gonna breed this little pussy , give you a cub.” you moaned , “please cum inside me.”

his cock twitched inside you , releasing himself inside your waiting womb. “fuck.” he dragged out. “fuck , i'm still cumming.” he laughed breathlessly. “you always bring out the worst in me baby.” he kissed your lips. “yeah?” he nodded.

“yeah you do little bunny.”

©LUVYENI

[mochiajclayne]

Law and Luffy's pirate alliance is so interesting in outsider's POV because both of them are notorious in their own way. The idea of Trafalgar Law whose reputation is known for his brutality and morbid enough to deliver 100 hearts to the Marine Headquarters and Monkey D. Luffy that gained recognition for literally invading three strongholds of the World Government (Enies Lobby, Impel Down, Marineford...and that's just his publicized feats, he also beat two warlords) working together is both terrifying and unimaginable. With Fujitora pulling the stunt to expose Doflamingo's atrocities in Dressrosa, it further fed the idea of how hysterical and intimidating the alliance is to the public eye. The reality, however, is much deeper and personal than that and it's just a fun idea to explore in fics.

[pin-k-ink]

wolf’s den // sakusa kiyoomi & miya atsumu (pt. 1)

tw ⇢ incest(reader is sakusa’s little sister), dark content, possessive/obsessive behavior, male masturbation, voyeurism, implied age gap, ‘brother’s best friend’ but darker, sakuatsu if you squint

wc ⇢ 5.2k

Atsumu let out a low whistle as he stepped into Sakusa's pristine apartment. Every surface gleamed spotlessly - as if belonging in an interior design catalog rather than a living space.

"Nice place ya got here, Omi-kun," he drawled while shrugging off his coat. "Though I guess I shoulda expected nothing less from Mr. Neat Freak himself."

A muffled grunt echoed from what he assumed was the kitchen area. "Just don't track dirt everywhere. Wipe your feet properly."

Rolling his eyes, Atsumu made an exaggerated show of stomping his sneakers against the entry mat with excessive force. "There, happy? Should I roll out the sanitizing mat too while I'm at it?"

The familiar sound of Sakusa's irritated sigh reached his ears, prompting Atsumu's signature shiteating grin to spread across his lips. He opened his mouth to volley another playfully needling jab, already anticipating Sakusa's prickly clap back.

But the snarky retort never came.

Instead, a sweet, melodious voice - utterly at odds with the pristine environment's severity - pierced through the air like a windchime's gentle chorus.

"Kiyoomi! You didn't tell me we'd have a guest!"

Atsumu turned towards the hallway just in time to witness you practically flounce into the living area on a pocket of bubbly, effortless energy. You moved with the unbridled exuberance and grace of a rambunctious puppy, arms carving unselfconscious arcs as you ambled inside.

Despite your modest, unassuming stature, that snug school uniform skirt shamelessly rode up with each unhurried stride - teasing at the prospect of those long, tempting legs disappearing beneath the fabric. Atsumu felt his throat go statically dry as you gravitated straight towards Sakusa with a radiant, adoring beam.

Without preamble, you looped those deceptively slender arms around one of his in an unmistakably childish, clinging manner. Sakusa's spine stiffened ever so subtly at your overtly tactile invasion of his personal space. But rather than recoiling or deterring your brazenly cuddly behavior, his posture seemed to...settle in resignation as you peered up at him through your lashes with naked affection.

"You should've told me we'd have company!" you mock-pouted in that same lilting, sweet tone. "I would've put on something cute just for your friend!"

Friend. The innocuous word detonated in Atsumu's hindbrain with all the force of a thermal detonation, setting off a searing chain reaction of dark hunger he couldn't quite put a name to. His focus remained utterly honed on the way your pursed lips quivered with each whimsically petulant syllable.

Before he could even begin processing the sordid spiral of his thoughts, you surged up on your tiptoes to plant a sweet, lingering peck against Sakusa's cheek. Atsumu watched with morbid fascination as his notoriously touch-averse teammate remained utterly impassive. No visible discomfort or revulsion danced across those typically severe features - despite your cloying, touchy display of pure sisterly adoration.

"There, all better!" you giggled in that tinkling melodic timbre. As if openly doting upon the prickliest germaphobe Atsumu had ever known was the most natural thing in the world.

For the briefest of instants, the world around them may as well have evaporated into irrelevance. All that existed was the image of you beaming up at Sakusa with all the radiant innocence and unaffected openness of a sunflower following the day's warmth. Atsumu felt his pulse throb thickly as you drank in that beatific sight hungrily - as if witnessing something sacred and pure in a way he could never recreate or taint.

Then, the moment fractured.

It was as if an unseen switch had been flipped, igniting the relentless inferno of territoriality that governed Sakusa's every action where you were involved. The muscles in his bicep tensed like braided steel cables as his arm remained unnaturally rigid within the circle of your embrace.

But it was the infinitesimal slide and flex of Sakusa's other hand snaking around the supple curve of your lower back that sent aotectic surge of unease ricocheting through Atsumu's core. His splayed fingers spasmed possessively, inexorably drawing you flush against his side as those obsidian eyes drilled into Atsumu.

The silent warning blazed with searing clarity, a wordless edict burned straight from Sakusa's very marrow: this creature currently basking in your affection belongs to me...and me alone.

In that moment, Atsumu felt incredibly small - as if he were an intruder bearing witness to something intensely personal, sacred...unhinged. As if an unfurling new reality sat perched at his core, waiting to sink in its bloody talons at the slightest provocation.

You, meanwhile, remained entirely blissfully ignorant of the undercurrents surging between the two men as you beamed up at Sakusa. With another windchime peal of girlish laughter, you disentangled yourself just enough to bestow that radiant, effervescent smile onto Atsumu.

"Well hi there!" you chirped, that brilliant beam of innocent curiosity fixing onto Atsumu. "I don't think we've had the pleasure of being introduced yet."

With a sway of your hips, you sidled closer until you were openly invading his personal space. Atsumu felt like a deer stumbling into the scope of a hunter's crosshairs as your sugary floral scent and radiant warmth washed over him. Up close, he could make out the dusting of faint freckles spanning your features and the way your tongue instinctively wet your lower lip.

"I'm Kiyoomi's little sister!" you trilled with windchime sweetness.

A dainty hand extended towards Atsumu in polite greeting, bracelets jingling softly with the motion. He blinked dazedly for a heartbeat, utterly disarmed by your proximity assaulting his senses. But the instant your palm met his in a fleeting clasp, it was like a match lancing through the thickening miasma of distracted arousal clouding his thoughts.

The first lascivious flare of heat blazed low in Atsumu's gut as his gaze instinctively dropped to trail down the plunging vee of your uniform blouse. In his haze, the buttons seemed to strain teasingly over the subtle swells of your breasts rising and falling with each guileless inhale. He swallowed a torrid pulse at the glimpse of silky cleavage peeking out from that dangerous neckline.

Focus, dammit, he growled internally even as his hungry stare continued roving lower. He tried and failed to tear his eyes away from the way your skirt clung to those generous hips, the inviting flare before tapering down into a pair of thighs he suddenly longed to—

A sharp exhalation - more animal than human - punched from between Sakusa's gritted teeth like a battlefield canon. Atsumu jolted bodily back to reality, head swiveling to find his closest friend's expression had mutated into something thunderously unhinged. All traces of sardonic neutrality had evaporated from those flinty eyes, replaced by a roiling, nearly feral darkness Atsumu had never witnessed directed at him before.

Sakusa looked positively unraveled in that moment, posture coiled tighter than a cornered viper ready to strike. The slackness of his jaw and the chilling, predatory gleam slicing through the shadows beneath those hooded lids spoke to an unraveling far more visceral than mere irritation.

It was...possession. Carnal, all-consuming ownership seared through every synapse behind that smoldering glower.

A shiver of unease raked Atsumu's spine as that wordless message finally pierced his lustful daze. You were so much more to Sakusa than just a "baby sister" in the platonic sense. He looked at you - guarded you - like a feral beast sheltering its most precious cache, willing to eradicate any perceived threat with extreme prejudice.

The severity of Sakusa's lethally possessive energy managed to momentarily derail Atsumu's spiraling descent into distracted lascivity. That hazy inferno of forbidden desire calcifying behind his bellybutton banked down to a steady, smoldering ember of begrudging acknowledgment.

Message received, whether he liked it or not: this was Sakusa's territory. His dominion to control and shelter as he saw fit. Atsumu had simply been granted a fleeting glimpse behind the curtain into that darkly covetous world - one he very clearly wasn't welcome in, despite how tempting the glimpses proved.

You, meanwhile, seemed to remain utterly oblivious to the perilous exchange billowing out around you. With a tinkling giggle, you squeezed Atsumu's hand once more.

"I'll let you boys get reacquainted!" you beamed with sun-drenched warmth. "But we'll have to swap embarrassing stories about Kiyoomi soon!"

With a conspiratorial wink, you finally disentangled yourself to sashay deeper into the apartment - leaving a deafening silence and the lingering vapors of your floral aura in your wake.

For several electric moments, a weighted tension thick enough to choke on cloaked the room. Sakusa's brooding presence loomed with all the untamed peril of a powder keg awaiting an errant spark. Atsumu swallowed hard, struggling to find the normally glib words to ease his friend's visible unraveling.

"Omi-Omi..." he began slowly.

But the instant that nickname fell from his lips, Sakusa's granite facade shattered in a hailstorm of livid snarls.

"Don't you dare, Miya," he bit out with terrifying lucidity. "Don't even think about slithering an inch further into her orbit."

Dark eyes blazing with that same primal fire bored into Atsumu from across the room. Each enunciated syllable felt like its own scalding rebuke.

"She's off limits. Completely. No exceptions, no matter how...tempting you may find her."

Sakusa's jaw twitched as that last phrase grated forth - a muscle clenching behind his cheek with each guttural delivery. Atsumu understood the implication with frightening clarity. His friend might as well have declared a scorched earth policy on anyone who dared make a play for the most exquisite, corruptible treasure jealously guarded in his possession.

Because whether Sakusa explicitly stated it or not...that was precisely the nature of whatever unhinged obsession smoldered between him and the dazzling little force of nature roaming these halls. You were his undisputed territory - a coveted keep to be carefully curated and insulated against any encroachment whatsoever.

Even from Atsumu himself, it seemed.

Atsumu barely had a chance to decompress from Sakusa's scorching gauntlet before his solitude was again disrupted by the melodic lilt of your voice.

"Oh good, you found the guest room okay!"

He turned towards the open doorway to find you leaning against the frame with hip cocked at an angle that somehow elevated your air of casual, girlish insouciance into something utterly transfixing. The tight little cotton tank top you wore skated along the gentle curves of your figure like a second skin. Those delectable legs seemed to stretch for miles below the frayed hems of your tiny lounge shorts.

"I was just about to come find you to see if you needed any...assistance getting settled," you continued, tone dripping with an exaggerated sweetness that paradoxically raised the fine hairs along Atsumu's nape.

His mouth worked fruitlessly as he drank in the vision you presented - all tousled bedhead radiance and gloriously minimal clothing. The thin cotton did absolutely nothing to conceal the outline of your nipples. Something about the nonchalant, almost childlike manner in which you carried yourself in that immodest getup made the visuals that much more dizzying.

"Actually, I could use a little help getting unpacked," he heard himself murmur before his brain could catch up.

One sleek eyebrow arched in muted surprise, but you didn't seem remotely taken aback by the fraught undercurrents bleeding from Atsumu's stare and tone. If anything, your full lips only curved higher at the corners in silent welcome.

"Well then, lead the way," you purred in that same saccharine-laced timbre.

As you brushed past to sidle into the room, the delicate citrus bouquet of your natural scent washed over Atsumu in another searing wallop to his senses. His focus lasered onto the inviting dip of your waistline above those criminally tight shorts. The inseam fabric strained indecently, leaving very little to the salacious imagination about the feminine musculature cradled within.

"You'll have to let me know if you need anything else to make this room feel...homier," you murmured without preamble, settling onto the foot of his bed with a whisper of cotton against skin.

Atsumu suppressed a violent shudder at the implication dripping from your every languid syllable and hooded glance. The sheer wattage of your playful, inviting aura crackled through the air in an electric current sparking directly against his receptive nerve-endings. You looked every inch the sultry pinup - all effortless sexiness and sticky, girlish temptation wrapped into one intoxicating package.

More importantly, you seemed acutely aware of the flustered effect you radiated. Each coquettish bat of your lashes and glimpse of glossed lips carried the giddy vibration of a naughty secret dangling in the air. Atsumu was utterly transfixed and out of his depth in the best way possible. How could Sakusa's own flesh and blood emit such brazen, corrupting effervescence without even a hint of self-awareness or shame?

Then again, maybe this was just your way. Maybe you thrilled in weaving these delicious snares of temptation and watching men like Atsumu helplessly flounder within their silken, unassuming grasp.

He coughed roughly into his fist, determined not to wilt so easily beneath your charming assault no matter how feverish his thoughts spiraled. "I'll let ya know if I need anything...extracurricular," Atsumu rasped in what he hoped passed for an assuredly casual deadpan. "After all, it'd be rude not to sample the full hospitality while I'm a guest here."

Your easy laughter feathered across his exposed forearms in an electric trail of goosebumps. "You're too much, Atsumu-kun. But how generous of you to allow me to spoil you."

With that and a final inscrutable look smoldering through the fans of your lashes, you rose fluidly from the mattress before slinking out the same way you entered - like a vaporous siren fading back into the safety of obscured corners. Atsumu remained rooted in place, heart thundering against his ribs as the memory of your gaze dissipated like smoke through his fingers.

"Don't forget - dinner's in a few hours!" your windchime cadence trilled faintly from the hallway. "I hope you like the menu I have...whipped up for tonight!"

Atsumu groaned from deep in his chest, scrubbing one palm over his flushed features. If tonight's activities were anything akin to this "preview" appetizer, he feared whatever twisted fixation first sparked inside him earlier would only continue roaring out of control.

All because you seemed determined to gleefully pour accelerant on those smoldering coals of obsession every chance you could.

By the time Atsumu emerged for the evening meal, you and Sakusa were already seated at the small kitchen table amid a modest spread of grilled fish, steamed veggies, and fresh rice. Despite the humble fare, you'd somehow managed to elevate the presentation into something straight out of a rustic wilderness home and living photoshoot.

Tea lights flickered in tinted glass votives scattered artfully across the gingham tablecloth. An uncorked bottle of crisp white wine stood at the ready, already having bestowed a delicate rosy flush to your cheeks and a giggling effervescence to your mannerisms. Not that your mood needed any extra buoyancy tonight.

"Atsumu-kun, you finally decided to join us!" you sang out in that windchime timbre as he approached.

Sakusa's spine visibly stiffened like a plank in his seat at your cheerful greeting. But you seemed oblivious to the simmering thundercloud radiating off your sibling, too busy patting the empty chair between the two of you pointedly.

Atsumu felt rooted in place, torn between the instinctive longing to drink in your radiant proximity and the nagging chill of Sakusa's silent disapproval trying to dissuade him. For one wild moment, he fleetingly envisioned flipping the wooden table between you in a childish tantrum of frustration - shattering those artistic place settings and flickering flames while disrupting whatever sordid tension hummed around you in this space.

But just as quickly as the unbecoming thought manifested, you broke the spell with an easy laugh and shooing wave of your hand.

"Oh come now, no one's going to bite!" The words dripped from your plush lips like warmed honey, thick with the promise of being anything but innocuous.

That lilting beckon was all the encouragement Atsumu's id required. In three strides he'd covered the distance to drop heavily into the seat directly between you and Sakusa's brooding silence, close enough to make out every flirtatious flutter of your lashes and sip of wine flushing the exposed swells of your bosom a deeper rose hue.

Proximity, it seemed, only amplified each sinewy contour and fragrant enticement wafting from you in dizzying waves. Atsumu momentarily forgot how to breathe, much less speak or look anywhere beyond the brazen strip of cleavage winking at him through the deep plunge of your top's neckline. Even from his peripherals, he could make out the sloping feminine curves of your rib cage tapering into those tantalizing dips and valleys of warm skin.

Thoroughly entranced, Atsumu watched in a trance-like stupor as you leaned forward to reach across his lap for the bottle of wine - completely oblivious to the lewd vista you were broadcasting. His mouth flooded with saliva at the up-close tease of lace brushing against his thigh, the unobscured view plunging straight into tempting shadowed depths he desperately yearned to plunder like a conquering sailor sighting land for the first time.

"Let me top you off, Atsumu-kun," you purred in a mellifluous tone thick with suggestion.

Atsumu felt his pulse skyrocket as a few rogue droplets of condensation from the dripping bottle spilled over the curves of your exposed chest in slow trickles. Your breath caught in a soft gasp at the cool rivulet skating between your breasts while Atsumu sat utterly transfixed, paralyzed by the urge to lean in and chase that beaded path with his ravenous mouth.

This sinful torment dragged on for an infinite heartbeat, the three of you frozen in this torrid tableau like a renaissance-era fresco. Then Sakusa deliberately cleared his throat with the gravelly force of a tectonic grind.

"My sister's careless manners aside," he seethed in a tone of molten, barely-contained rage, "perhaps you should exercise a modicum of self-control at the dinner table. Miya."

The rebuke sliced through Atsumu's lustful trance with scathing clarity. Stomach churning, he quickly tore his gaze away to settle on the flickering candle flames between them - trying and failing to purge the debauched hunger clawing through his sinews.

You remained blithely unaware of the silent exchange crackling with tension, too busy delicately dabbing an embroidered napkin to the moisture stain darkening your sternum.

"Always a little spill here and there," you sighed airily without a hint of reproach. "But that's half the fun, isn't it?"

As if to punctuate the rhetorical, you pointedly dragged the napkin along the curves of your breasts in an exaggerated swipe - the picture of saccharine girlishness coupled with the most lurid self-indulgence. Atsumu wasn't certain if you truly grasped the weight behind your actions, or if you merely basked in deliberately stoking the smoldering torment clearly gripping him.

Regardless, he already knew with sinking resignation that this meal would prove nothing short of an agonizing marathon in temptation and wanton torture.

All while Sakusa looked on, hawk-eyed and seething, ready to swat away any perceived line-steppers with vicious territorial backlash.

Long after the dry husks of their dinner plates had been cleared, Atsumu remained haunted by the sights and scents of that tantalizing evening. He tossed fitfully atop the guest bedroom sheets, body thrumming with a familiar restless ache born from deprivation and obsession.

A soft rap at the door made him jolt upright, sheets pooling around his bare torso. Atsumu opened his mouth to call out, but the teasing lilt of your voice purred through the cracked entryway first.

"I'm not disturbing you, am I Atsumu-kun?"

You sidled into the dim glow with all the breezy elegance of a lingerie model - barely ensconced within a negligee of filmy lavender lace that skated along every lush curve. Strands of silken hair framed your face in a tousled, inviting halo as you regarded him through hooded lashes thick with bedroom promise.

Atsumu swallowed hard against the sandpaper roiling of his tongue, hyper aware of the way his athletic shorts tented obscenely. You didn't seem to register the offense, too busy trailing your fingers along the door frame with calculated idleness.

"I wanted to bid you a proper goodnight..." you husked, gaze roving overtly along the taut musculature of his abdomen. "And perhaps get your thoughts on tonight's dinner?"

Teeth sank into your plump lower lip - whether subconsciously or not, the act radiated the most decadent allure. Atsumu felt the first insistent prickles of perspiration bead along his hairline as you dipped your chin with a conspiratorial giggle.

"I'll admit, I may have been quite the...sloppy hostess with certain...spillages."

The husky timbre dripping from your lips conjured phantoms of the sinful vista you'd broadcasted earlier that evening - all smooth swells of exposed breasts and dabbing towelettes edging ever lower in indecent tease. Atsumu rasped out a withering groan before he could swallow it back.

That seemed to be the unspoken cue you were awaiting. With footfalls light as shadowdancing whispers, you crossed the room's threshold to perch yourself on the foot of his mattress. Slippered feet swung idly as you leaned in with the subtlest teasing sway of lavender lace.

"Did I...overstep any boundaries tonight, Atsumu-kun?" you asked in a honeyed murmur that bespoke far more than mere propriety. "I do hope I didn't make you too...uncomfortable at dinner."

The sweet scent of your perfume and shampoo enveloped Atsumu in a stiflingly floral gauze. His pulse thrummed a dissonant rhythm at your shameless proximity, roaring like a riptide against his heightened senses. What he wouldn't give to seize you by those tiny wrists and simply haul you beneath him until the last remnants of that guileless, flirty mask evaporated beneath his ravenous assault.

But he realized with a dawning sense of strangled defeat...the choice would never be his to make.

The heated brand of Sakusa's possession weighed too heavily in every languorous glance and coy mannerism. A brand seared so deeply into your marrow, it was written into your DNA's very architecture to seek permission and validation at his altar. Intentional or not, you were his avatar of temptation and desecration.

It was Atsumu's sworn duty to simply endure each new provocation and descent into lascivious obsession without intervention.

So when those full lips pursed into an anticipatory 'o' - clearly awaiting an answer about being too untoward - he released a shredded sigh of equal parts starvation and resignation.

"No...ya were just bein' yerself," Atsumu rumbled, voice graveled from the strain of restraint. "Nothin' for me to get uncomfortable about with that sorta sweet...hospitality."

Whether he imagined it or not, a flickered glinted behind those molten eyes at his capitulation. You eased back with a throaty chuckle before uncoiling from the sheets in one lithe, sinuous motion.

"Sweet dreams, Atsumu-kun," you bid with a breezing air that brought your perfumed aura wafting across his over-sensitized senses once more.

Long after your teasing presence retreated down the hallway, he remained upright and rooted in place - haunted by the sordid fantasies playing out like firelight dances across his psyche. Atsumu clutched the sheets in knotted fists as his jaw ground with escalating torment.

Until finally, the fraying restraint he still desperately clutched at snapped under the weight of his all-consuming fever pitch. With a shredded growl tearing from low in his chest, Atsumu surrendered to his roiling arousal, one fist flying to the throbbing erection tenting his shorts.

The friction of callused skin against the sensitive organ was a delicious form of self-flagellation. He stroked himself roughly, gritting his teeth against the pleasure-pain. In his fevered imagination, that hand belonged to another - one who watched his depravity from beneath hooded, knowing lashes.

You.

The forbidden vision of you - naked and panting and eager to please, all doe-eyed innocence and lascivious curiosity - flashed like a lightning bolt behind his eyes. The fantasy morphed, twisting into something far more perverse as he imagined you sprawled in an obscene splay of feminine limbs, lips swollen and cheeks flushed - but not from any pleasure he'd bestowed.

In his mind's eye, you remained impaled upon the unmistakable contours of a cock. Your thighs quivered as you struggled to accommodate the length splitting your pussy apart. But the angle of his imaginary thrusts wasn't one of pleasurable indulgence, or even of animalistic rutting. No, it was the brutal, selfish gouging of a feral beast claiming his territory.

The possessiveness radiating from those shadows behind you was unmistakable - an ineffable, unhinged energy radiating pure ownership.

Sakusa's.

The realization of whom you truly craved above all others sent Atsumu careening into the abyss, hips pumping and teeth bared in a snarl. The orgasm was a scouring, cleansing agony as thick ropes of cum spurted forth to spatter across the sheets in sticky stripes.

With a ragged grunt, he collapsed onto his back amidst the mess of cooling sweat and jizz. The aftershocks of pleasure pulsed through his veins, eclipsing his surroundings in a haze of endorphin-fueled oblivion.

When he finally came to, he was suddenly aware of the disturbing fantasy that had gripped him in its clutches. Atsumu groaned, scrubbing his palms over his face with a mixture of disgust and shame.

"What the fuck was that?"

The question echoed into the darkened room, a chilling portent he refused to acknowledge.

Long afterwards, the hazy vestiges of his indulgence refused to bring any sense of true sated release. If anything, Atsumu's thoughts only spiraled deeper into darker, grimmer obsession as the sweat and shame cooled from his brow in the guest room's dim shadows.

Restless paces resumed as his desperation escalated to an almost maddening degree. Perhaps some water would—

Wait. What was that sound?

Atsumu instinctively stilled, ear tuning to an indistinct rhythm bleeding from the far side of the apartment. As if being guided by a wraith's bony fingers, he found himself slipping into the hallway and trailing that siren summons. Deeper and deeper through Sakusa's apartment until he drew up outside a door slightly ajar - flickering shadows and indistinct

The muffled cadences echoing down the shadowed hallway felt like tendrils of insistent smoke curling beneath Atsumu's skin - intangible yet insidiously inescapable. Each indistinct murmur and rhythmic whisper carried the unmistakable undercurrent of something intimate, something meant to be experienced only by those within the sanctum's threshold.

He knew beyond all doubt that he should retreat. Put as much distance between himself and whatever blasphemous activities awaited discovery behind that slightly ajar door. Atsumu's baser survival instincts screamed for him to flee before his curiosity dragged him across the point of no return.

But that same poisonous undertow of obsession you had awakened within him during your siren song of innocence and corruption sang a far more compelling chorus. With each featherlight step forward, the suggestive refrains woven through the hushed gasps and creaking mattress springs sharpened into haunting clarity.

"...so good for me, sweet girl. Taking it so beautifully..."

Sakusa's low rasp punched through the heavy air with spine-shocking potency. The sheer, unapologetic undercurrent of unholy reverence scorching beneath each guttural intonation made the hairs along Atsumu's nape prickle to rigidity.

Scattered flashes of movement filtered through the cracked veil - just enough to paint a vivid mental portrait of what he was overhearing. Sakusa's massive, powerful frame loomed like a demon king. The bedding beneath him rippled with the force of his movements, the violent undulations punctuated by the telltale slap of flesh against flesh. Iron corded forearms flexed and bulged as hips pistoned in an unhinged, animalistic pace. His focus zeroed in on the obscured yet hauntingly familiar slender limbs twining amidst the obscured sheets and eddies of tangled fabric.

You. That was unmistakably you - spread wide and moaning beneath his punishing rhythm, utterly pliant and receptive to his every demand. Breasts bouncing with the force of each ruthless thrust and a litany of filthy endearments falling from kiss-bruised lips.

"My precious girl..." The entreaty dripped from Sakusa's lust-thickened vocals like hot wax burning along Atsumu's feverish nerve endings. "Made for my cock, weren’t you..."

The barest lilting of a giggle - your giggle - trickled through the veil in response to his sacrilegious edict. But there was a husky, strangled underpinning to the sound that hollowed Atsumu's core with reflexive disquiet. It was the wounded whimper of an innocent, wild thing enduring its domestication against its basest instincts.

Yet the muffled sighs and keens emanating from your prone figure spoke to a far more twisted, deviant truth: that you enjoyed being pinned and conquered. That you longed for someone to tame your wanton desires and bend you into submission, no matter how perverse the demands. A transfixed, horrified voyeur, Atsumu catalogued every sharp intake of breath and arched silhouette as you careened towards your orgasm.

Until finally, your cries crested in a single, visceral peaked that echoed like a gunshot down the empty corridor. Atsumu flinched as your lithe frame bowed bowstring-taut off the bed in convulsing release - translucent liquid dripping from the apex of your quivering thighs in an obscene torrent.

"Yes, just like that..." Sakusa murmured in a sibilant purr dripping with gratified menace. "Cum for me, sweet girl."

For several suspended heartbeats, only your residual whimpers and the steady drip of Atsumu's perspiration disturbed the weighted stillness. Then, the other man finally roused beside your pliant form with the predatory grace of a beast savoring its fresh kill.

Sakusa's imposing silhouette filled the doorway's thin sliver of illumination. Moonlight glazed his heavy-lidded gaze in lurid onyx, rendering those eyes as glinting obsidian pits exuding a feverish, singularly covetous hunger.

Some primitive instinct screamed at Atsumu to retreat before that searing, predatory stare pierced the concealing veil and transfixed him like a butterfly pinned to velvet. But he found himself inexorably magnetized, unable to tear away from the primal force radiating off Sakusa in insistent waves.

One suspended moment seemed to stretch into a sweating eternity, the air thickening with unspoken danger and forbidden temptation. Then the spell shattered - Atsumu gasped as if surfacing from deep waters, staggering backwards in a blind panicked escape.

Sakusa's unvoiced promise of merciless retaliation lapped at his heels like a starving beast while the hallway seemed to constrict around him with every frantic stride. That rapacious, all-consuming pull remained an oppressive miasma nipping at Atsumu's senses until he collapsed against the guest room door, shaking hands sealing him inside.

Only in the safety of smothering blackness did Atsumu allow his rigid composure to fracture. He had been offered an inseverable glimpse behind the veil into your and Sakusa's shadowed world - one of devout obsession and unrestrained carnal possession.

The illusion of your teasing innocence was forever shattered, replaced by that lurid, feverishly blooming allure no sane man could resist gravitating towards in abject fascination and disgust. Atsumu's fixation had been irrevocably seeded, taking root like a devouring parasite festering in the darkest recesses of his psyche.

As his hammering pulse gradually steadied in the gloom, Atsumu could have sworn the shadows themselves seemed to slither with silent, unnerving promise. Prickling awareness ghosted across his nape - carnal tendrils of Sakusa's possessive madness creeping through the ether to beckon Atsumu back towards the ravenous, unknowable depths of his unholy obsession once again.

[morbidology]

Per Yngve Ohlin, better known by his stage name Dead, was a Swedish black metal musician. He was the lead vocalist of the band, Mayhem, after joining in 1988 after sending the band a demo tape.

His stage persona and fascination with death were central to his image. He was known for his grim outlook on life, often speaking about death and depression. To enhance his morbid stage presence, Dead famously wore corpse paint, making him look as though he had risen from the grave. He would also bury his clothes before concerts to give himself the appearance and smell of decay. His live performances were notorious for their intensity, with Dead sometimes cutting himself on stage and displaying animal carcasses.

Behind his stage persona, Dead suffered from severe depression and struggled with suicidal thoughts throughout his life. He was 22-years-old when he took his own life on 8 April, 1991. He shot himself in the head at a house shared with Mayhem guitarist Euronymous (Øystein Aarseth). His suicide note simply read: "Excuse all the blood."

The aftermath of his death was marked by controversy, as Euronymous discovered the body and took photos, one of which was later used as the cover of an unofficial Mayhem album. It is also believed that fragments of Dead's skull were collected by Euronymous and distributed to other musicians.

[kimbap-r0ll]

Adult trio + feitsn with a reader that is a mortician 🥹💖 who is interested and who doesn't really care?? Love your stuff! Thank u sm!

Hi, thank you for the ask! I think what you mean for "interested and who doesn't really care" is for the reader not caring about the characters' backgrounds? If not, feel free to send me another ask. Hope you enjoy!

Adult trio + Feitan with a mortician!reader

Hisoka

He doesn't really mind it, it's just another occupation and if you're happy with what you're doing then go you

However, he might enjoy watching you do your job at all times, but he is curious about some aspects of your occupation. Things like applying special makeup on a deceased person is a bit intriguing to him

He might be tempted to distract you while you work if he happens to be in the same place. Or, if you don't want him to bother you, he might enjoy coming by and saying hello just to annoy you a bit haha

He'll be surprised however if you say you don't mind his hobbies. Sure, being a mortician already warranted you weird looks from people, but hearing that you didn't mind your boyfriend being a killer magician was another thing. Hisoka's happy of course, but pleasantly surprised

Illumi

He's probably never thought too much about dead bodies since he works with death so much as an assassin. When he finds out about your occupation he'll be like "cool"

Illumi might ask you some questions on your job. He asks if you have to stitch people up if they're skin is damaged, he might ask if you ever saw someone who was assassinated. He might want to watch you too, but you can always tell him the workplace isn't really meant for visitors

Similar to Hisoka, he'll be surprised if you say you had no problems with his job as an assassin. Sure, you two worked with death a lot, but killing someone is different from your work. He's a bit puzzled, but happy nonetheless

Overall he's also fine with your work. However if you two become more committed to your relationship, expect him to want you to become an assassin or at least join the Zoldyck household on Kukuro Mountain soon

Chrollo

Probably the most intrigued by your work out of the four characters. He's naturally curious, and because of this you will be bombarded with questions about everything mortician related

Chrollo will want to watch you do your work but due to the nature of your occupation you might not let him do that (who knows, the hxh world might be different). He does find the aspect of making someone who is deceased look more "alive" very interesting

He might also commend you for your work. Though he may seem heartless, he does admire your efforts in making saying final goodbyes a little warmer, something that Meteor City doesn't have all the time

He's also surprised when you say you don't mind his job as leader of the most notorious criminal group. He might be wary at first that you might be lying, but after a while he'll trust you. Who knows, he might invite you to Meteor City one day as well

Feitan

He tortures but doesn't care about dead bodies. Seeing you with a job that cares for the deceased is really intriguing to him.

He'll also ask a lot of questions, but they're a bit more morbid than Chrollo's. It's about how people died, what kinds of handwork you had to do to people, etc. He too wants to watch you but you might need to stop him (but the hxh world might have different mortician standards so who knows haha)

He doesn't trust you when you say you don't care too much about his occupation in the troupe. He asks why, and you might say that you warmed up to him and you trust him, which might've made him cry had he not done so well at hiding his emotions. He might not feel like he deserves love, but he's really happy nonetheless

Overall he's similar to Chrollo in being curious, but it's more of a morbid curiosity. He might introduce you to Phinks and Shalnark in the future, who will tease him for being lowkey shy around you haha

[deathmetalunicorn1]

Hello! Can I request a Morticia reader with Apollo and Leonidas? I don’t remember if you wrote any with these two. Thanks in advance!

-Beautiful, dark, deadly, passionate, loving, unique, all were words used to describe you and all of them were true.

-You were like the moon against the dark night sky, surrounded by pitch black darkness, bright but eerie and quiet.

-You found enjoyment in the dark and macabre, but to you, they were normal, beautiful things, skulls, poisonous flowers, dangerous plants, death, how lovely.

-Many thought you were odd by the way you dressed and carried yourself, always wearing elegant black gowns paired with matching jewelry with spider or coffin motifs. However, sometimes you would wear different colors when it was warmer out, just a slightly lighter shade of black with an umbrella, you didn’t need any unwanted color in your complexion.

-Your tone was always even and deadpan, never showing emotions the way others do, so nobody could ever tell if you were joking or not about feeding someone to your kitty-cat, an actual lion that you kept around who was like a housecat with you and those he knew, but vicious and violent with strangers.

-Many made comments that you would be attractive if you were ‘normal’ but where’s the fun in that? It’s much more fun to keep others guessing- keeping them on your toes.

-Speaking of keeping others on their toes, if anyone was to visit your private greenhouse, they would need to watch where they step or risk losing a few.

-Your garden was notorious for being filled with poisonous and carnivorous plants, and not just little things like little Venus Fly Traps, no you had a giant 4 ½ foot one that would eat people if they got close enough if you hadn’t fed them yet!!

-However, due to their healthy fear of your garden, you didn’t have many visitors, which you liked, less of a risk of your babies getting trampled or damaged.

-Your lover liked you the way you were, you were unapologetically unique, and he loved it, you were so different from other women and that’s what drew him to you.

-At first he did think you were a little odd, intimidating was a word he liked to use, as you weren’t afraid to speak your mind and there was always an air around you, a silent warning, but as time went on, he fell hard for you.

-Apollo- He adored your vibe- as you his opposite, he preferred sunshine and bright colors, while you enjoyed the moon and various shades of black, he was more open while you were reserved, he was honest about his feelings and you… you give the vibe that you’ve probably killed a few people. Apollo adores you, not wanting to change a thing about you, and you admire that he stays true to himself as well- not going to change for you. You accepted him for him, and he accepted you for you- and to him that was the most beautiful type of love. He loved your garden, but does know, now, to keep his distance from certain plants, not wanting to get bitten again. You enjoyed Apollo’s poetry to you, finding it relaxing, as well as his music, while you were so knowledgeable about plants (he doesn’t care that it’s dangerous plants) and he could listen to you for hours. Your relationship with Apollo was one of ‘opposites attract’.

-Leonidas- Seeing the fear in the eyes of those who claim to be powerful warriors was something that always made your day, as the Spartan warriors who had been training near your home had stumbled onto your property, where you dearest kitty cat went to say hello, but they just ran. When you comforted your precious kitty, petting him gently, they were all stunned, seeing you with no fear whatsoever- they had to wonder if you were a witch. Leonidas met you when he had to ‘rescue’ his men from a witch, only finding a darkly beautiful woman instead. Leonidas was taken by your vibe, you were so unique, you found joy in the dark and gloomy, finding happiness in death and morbid things that other would find terrifying. When you commented you loved being looked at with fear, mentioning his men, he couldn’t help but laugh, finding you hysterical. He knew he had fallen for you when you threatened him a gentle but intimidating smile on your lips, when he asked if you would sic your lion on him, “Oh no~ I prefer things to be more personal- I would poison you and watch the light slowly dim in your eyes- dragging out your inevitable death.” Leonidas had never felt such thrill before~

[chrysalis-the-butterfly]

Blaire Hopburn: My Favourite Character From My Least Favourite Piece of Media

So there's this webcomic called Lease Bound. It's set in Australia in 2017, and it follows Jaden and Riley, two lesbians forced to share an apartment after a mix-up with their leases (hence the title).

It was promoted as a lesbian love story, but it soon became pretty notorious for transphobia.

Jaden works as a bouncer for a female-only lesbian bar, and in Chapter 3, she refuses to let in three trans women, who don't take it well. The webcomic was heavily criticised for the way the trans women were drawn and how they behaved.

Years later, Lease Bound is still being updated regularly - in fact, Chapter 11 introduced a load of trans men and enby characters.

I've been following the updates for a while. The webcomic expresses a lot of views that I do not agree with - namely, that trans women are dangerous perverted men, and that trans men and enbies are either attention-seeking straight women or queer women too scared to question the "trans ideology cult".

And yet I keep coming back. It's partly out of morbid curiosity, to see what on Earth is going to happen next. But I think it's also because of one character I actually quite like.

Blaire Hopburn.

Blaire is Riley's bisexual girlfriend. She works at the same shop as Riley, in a slightly more senior position. She's also studying cosmetology at university and is part of its LGBTQIA+ club.

In a comic that's been so heavily criticised (and rightly so), what makes Blaire so appealing to me?

It's partly because of her personality. The Cast Page describes her as "a passionate, bubbly woman, who always strives to do what she believes is right… Even if not everyone else agrees." I generally like characters with those traits. I enjoy watching people who try to be good and make an effort to help others, but don't always do it in the best way.

And another reason I like Blaire is because I read her as autistic.

Blaire Hopburn: Accidentally Autistic?

Quite a few of Blaire's personality traits are things that I, as an autistic person, relate to a lot.

The author has described Blaire as, "So good at picking up when someone is upset, or not looking after themselves, so bad at reading the room regarding how to act." That could resonate with any autistic people who are high on empathy but low on social skills. You feel other people's pain, you want to help them, but you're not sure how. And what you try seems to make things worse.

This aspect of Blaire is present in Chapter 8, on Pages 2 and 3, when she and Jaden make conversation while erecting a bunk bed:

Blaire: So Jaden, is this your first move out of home? Jaden: I know it's a little later than most people... Blaire: Not judging! My 'rents insisted I stay home until I finish studying. Jaden: Oh nice. What are you studying? Blaire: Cosmetology! I tried early childcare and psychology too, but I couldn't handle that sort of selfless responsibility, haha! Jaden: Oh man, I feel that. My mum's in aged care, and takes care of my Nana now. I could not do what she does for a living, haha. Blaire: Do you think you took longer to move out because you felt guilty leaving your mum with your Nana? Jaden: How many years of psychology did you do...? Blaire: Sorry, that was a total guess! I didn't even last a full year!! Jaden: Could've fooled me, haha.

Thankfully, Jaden is nice enough to let that awkward moment pass, but she could have reacted to Blaire's psychoanalysis in a much worse way.

We also see Blaire being bad at socialising on Chapter 9 Page 17. Riley and Blaire have witnessed Jaden having an argument with her mum, and after her mum leaves, Blaire asks Jaden about it:

Blaire: Did you want to talk about what happened with your mum, Jaden? Riley: BLAIRE...! Jaden: Hey, it's okay. I have been a bit of a downer... Sorry. Riley: No, you don't have to apologise! Blaire: Yeah, it just sounded pretty upsetting. Jaden: You could say that, haha...

That feels very much like something a person would do when they sense something is wrong and zero in on one way of dealing with it. "Come on, let's talk about our feelings! A problem shared is a problem halved, right? Right?"

There's even a point in Chapter 8 where Blaire muses, "Sometimes it feels like Muddles [Riley's pet cat] is able to comfort Riley in ways that I just can't..." Can you imagine how galling it must feel, knowing that a pet, a creature that can't even speak English, is better at helping your girlfriend than you are?

Ouch.

In addition, Blaire's desire to learn about trans topics and be a good trans ally reads a lot like a special interest to me.

Especially the fact that she randomly brings up trans people in conversation, seemingly apropos nothing at all:

Blaire: Sorry I ditched you, babe. Auntie's keen for me to learn stock ordering. Riley: As long as you don't forget about me when you're a fully fledged store manager. Blaire: Never! So how'd the bunk end up treating you? Riley: Big upgrade from being on the floor. Blaire: And did Mudz approve? Riley: She was up there with me by morning. Blaire: Damn, that is good! Do you think Jaden could be trans?

That conversation with Riley had nothing to do with trans stuff, so Blaire's question is a bolt from the blue. I suspect the thought of Jaden being trans had been playing on Blaire's mind all day, and she was eager to grab the first chance to discuss it with someone.

She does something similar in a reply to an Anon question from when the author still had Tumblr:

Anon: Compared to others of her demographic, I gotta give Blaire props for dating a butch gal and treating her well. Blaire: Of course! Butches deserve nothing but love! And that goes DOUBLE for trans women!

Again, that Anon didn't mention trans people at all, but Blaire still brought them up. She was just itching to infodump about trans rights, I just know it.

But Blaire's connection to trans stuff leads to the issues I have with the way she's being written.

Blaire Hopburn: Pretty Problematic?

I really don't like how Blaire is currently being utilised in the story. Mainly because she's made out to be kind-of an idiot. She doesn't notice when she's making her girlfriend feel uncomfortable. And she's quite bad at picking up on social cues more generally.

This is demonstrated in Chapter 11 on Pages 31 and 32. Blaire is conversing with Violet, Jaden's coworker, about Violet's daughter Faith. The view Blaire expresses is the strawman argument often used against trans people and their allies - the supposition that we believe that not conforming to your expected gender norms means you must be trans.

Violet: Oh, and thanks for being patient with Faith. I know she's a bit of a handful! Blaire: It's like you said: they're just very passionate. Just not about dresses and skirts, huh?

Violet's response is interesting, as is Blaire's train of thought after the exchange:

Violet: NOPE! And I couldn't be happier! It makes buying HER clothes so much simpler! I hope SHE will steer clear of razors and makeup in HER teen years too, haha! Anyway, I best be getting my DAUGHTER to bed. See you at Ballroom Night! VROOM! Blaire: ... Blaire: (thinking) Dang it... It looks like Violet needs more help than I first thought... The sooner I get these [leaflets] to her the more time little Faith will have to choose what kind of body they want as an adult...!

Blaire didn't realise that Violet was emphasising the gendered ways to describe Faith because Violet already knows about trans stuff and rejects it. Instead, she just assumed Violet was ignorant and needed some educational leaflets.

(And Blaire also didn't notice the insult hidden in Violet's words. Blaire clearly shaves and wears makeup, so Violet was basically saying she hopes Faith doesn't turn out like Blaire. But Blaire has no reaction to that.)

Blaire is clearly not the best at detecting what people are implying. But that's being written in an exaggerated way, to satirise belief in "trans ideology" as stupid and in denial of reality.

It can almost feel as if Blaire is being portrayed as bad because of her autistic traits.

The author has addressed this in a comment on one of the bonus comic pages that came out after Chapter 11:

Important to keep in mind that none of the characters are written to be autistic. So Blaire isn’t being made into a villain or singled out for being autistic. In fact, a lot of her "social missteps" are a positive side to her character. Like she's pushy about gender nonsense, but she's also pushy when it comes to making sure her friends take care of themselves (making sure Jaden was getting her share of pancakes, pointing it out fully). She pushes because she cares. It has both positive and negative outcomes.

The trouble is, just because it wasn't the author's intention doesn't mean that's not how it looks. I know I'm not the only one who sees Blaire as autistic-coded.

And when Blaire's difficulties with social interaction are being played up in conversations about trans people, she isn't being written as a character. She's being used as a tool to poke fun at "the trans cult".

That's what annoys me about her portrayal. She isn't allowed to just be a character in a story - a nice, well-meaning but inexperienced girlfriend who happens to take an interest in trans rights. She has to be an extreme strawman of a trans ally, to push the author's anti-trans agenda.

Blaire Hopburn: Vicious Villain?

One of the webcomic's extra features is an "Actor AU", which includes this interview with Blaire's "actress":

Interviewer: Your character is quite controversial isn't she? Lots of people want her killed off and others are holding out hope for some sort of redemption. Which camp are you in, haha? Blaire's Actress: Neither. Interviewer: Oh...? Blaire's Actress: I actually like evil female characters. There's all these memes about deranged women, malicious women, heartless women... But when one does come along they want her removed or fundamentally changed before she's even spread her wings. Interviewer: Do you think fan opinion might change once Blaire ... takes flight? Blaire's Actress: I hope so. Realistically, both extreme camps will probably end up disappointed. But there's plenty of other great stuff to watch for. Will just have to burn the "Blaire bridge" when we come to it.

The funny thing is that the fans who comment on Lease Bound act as though Blaire is already a horrible person, but ... she really isn't?

At her worst, she's so focused on being a good trans ally that she neglects to check in with how others feel. But that's hardly "deranged" or "malicious" or "heartless", is it? Unless you already believe that supporting "trans ideology" makes you at least one of those things.

The closest thing I see to Blaire being villainous is in the first of the "When Riley Met Brick" bonus pages.

Blaire: Exploring your femininity in a non-traumatic way might help make things clearer too. Riley: O-okay. Blaire: Why don't we go dress shopping later this week, then? Riley: U-uh... I'm not really... They never feel good. Blaire: Cute plus-size options have come a long way in the last few years. It won't be frumpy like the stuff from your old congregation, I promise! Riley: O-okay... *** Blaire: Well, what do you think? Riley: It's... I feel like I can't breathe... Blaire: Huh? But it's so loose and flow-y... Do you need a bigger size? Riley: N-no, please, get it off. OFF! OFF!! Blaire: Riles! Hey, hey! Don't thrash like that, you'll rip it! Here' I'm untying it, see? Riley: ... Blaire: So, no tie-arounds, zippers or buttons... How about this one? You just pull it straight over your head! Riley: I can't... Please, no more... Blaire: Hmm... I think we need to talk to someone who has a bit more expertise than me, baby...

Blaire is forcing Riley to try on dresses and do something she's really uncomfortable with, until Riley is screaming and thrashing about. That does seem very, very bad. But I wonder if there's more to this than meets the eye.

Riley's backstory hasn't been shown in the webcomic yet, but the author has said that she grew up in a religious cult where she was only allowed to wear dresses, never trousers. Blaire presumably doesn't fully understand how bad Riley's past was, as she assumes the issue is with the style of the dresses Riley has tried so far.

In an extra cast reply (and it's debatable how canon it is), Blaire does seem to grasp that what Riley has gone through was traumatising:

Blaire: Riley's discomfort with femininity is from being forced into it as a kid. That doesn't mean she HATES girly stuff, she just has internalised misogyny to work through at her own pace!

Yes, Blaire is going about things in the wrong way. But ... she kind-of has a point? I certainly wouldn't call it "internalised misogyny", but it is trauma, and that needs addressing.

Not wanting to wear dresses isn't a problem, but the reason for it can be. Riley's discomfort is clearly rooted in pretty serious trauma, and she needs to be able to sit down with someone and work through that. Sadly, she's not yet confident enough to open up fully about it.

And even if she could, Blaire isn't the right person to do this with. Blaire did study psychology briefly at university, but she didn't last a full year. Her idea of helping Riley is taking her to see Brick, a non-binary person ... who's training to be a veterinary nurse, not a human therapist. Blaire is nowhere near qualified to give Riley the help she needs.

I don't see this as an evil trans ally preying on a poor little lesbian. I see this as two flawed women talking past each other, trying and failing to understand each other, ill-equipped to cope with each other's issues.

And then the other "villainous Blaire" moment is at the end of "When Riley Met Brick", as Blaire criticises Riley for the way she talks to Brick:

Riley: Maybe I'm just feeling a bit confused because I've never met a trans person befor- Brick: THAT is an assumption rooted in transphobic bias! Trans people aren't a monolith! You can't tell who's trans just by looking at them! Riley: Sorry, I didn't know...! Blaire: You know what they say about assuming babe... Riley: I swear I didn't mean to... Blaire: You need to choose your words with more care. Riley: Right... I'm really sorry...

The dark colours, Blaire's body language and ominous words, the top-down perspective on the scared-looking Riley ... this page is trying to make us see Blaire as in the wrong and Riley as her victim. We're meant to judge her for putting her zealousness for trans acceptance before her concern for her girlfriend's feelings.

That's the last time we've seen Blaire in the webcomic so far, but she's due to reappear in Chapter 13. It seems as though the author is planning to do something big with Blaire - something that will cement her as the villain of Lease Bound. But it hasn't happened yet. And I'm curious to see what it is.

I suspect it's something to do with Blaire being in a more senior position at Riley's workplace, as well as the fact that her aunt works there. There's a risk that Blaire could use her influence with her aunt to force Riley out of a job, after a major disagreement over trans rights or something.

But based on what we've seen so far in the webcomic, I can't picture Blaire doing something like that. She just doesn't seem like the kind of person to do something so extreme.

Basically, it's going to take a lot to convince me that Blaire Hopburn is an irredeemable monster.

TL;DR Lease Bound is massively problematic. The one bright spot for me is Blaire, the nice, eager-to-help, slightly autistic-coded bi lady. Unfortunately, she keeps being turned into a caricature to mock those who support trans rights, and that bothers me.

[gilverrwrites]

Morning After

Black Mask/Reader, 1.5K words

Request Info || Masterlist || Ko-Fi 

AN: This is a slightly updated repost of a fic I wrote in 2016. This is the only time I've ever written Roman with a removable mask.

You overhear a discussion not meant for your ears, the morning after hooking up with Roman Sionis. Rating: 18+

CWs: Swearing, graphic mentions of torture & death, death threats, mentions of sex, suggestions of drinking, manipulation, (mild) blood.

Please remember: You can do anything you set your mind to.

“I always knew we couldn’t trust that bastard. Call Tupeng, send him down to that backstabbing bastard home and make him pay for ever crossing me.” “Y-yes Boss, but what would you like ‘em to do to ‘em.” “Burn him, skin him, skin his whole damn family for all I care, just make it hurt. Make that pig regret ever squealing on us.”

Your hand clasped over your mouth but not before a startled gasp escaped your lips. What had you gotten yourself into? When you’d gone home with Roman Sionis for the night, you knew he was dangerous. Truthfully it was exhilarating to know you were in bed with someone so influential, so wicked, but you were suddenly realising that being close to his world was maybe a little more then you could handle.

When silence fell from the other side of the door you knew you were trouble. They’d heard you, they must of. Hastily, you scurried across the room to the window, hoping to make some kind of escape, the view from the window reminding you that you were on the third floor. Panicked, you began to search for a hiding place, only to be stopped dead in your tracks as the bedroom door was wrenched open.

What you saw next nearly shook you to the core. You’d recognise Romans white suit pants anywhere, you knew the way his muscles flexed beneath his tight black shirt, and even the white tie was familiar. It was the chiseled black skull that sat over his face that sent a shiver down your spine.

“You! You’re Black Mask!?” You stutter, attempting to get a grip on yourself. You’d heard rumours about this man, you’d seen his hard wooden face on the news, but you never actually thought you’d be standing face to face with him. More importantly, you never thought you’d wake up one morning to discover you’d slept with one of Gotham’s most notorious felons. The very idea of it simultaneously terrified and excited you in ways you knew were wrong.

Roman seemingly takes no mind to your realisation as he closes the door behind him and begins to focus on rolling down the sleeves of his shirt.

“Oh god. I knew you were… But THIS! This is… oh my god.” You wrapped your arms around your chest. The cotton of the shirt you’d stolen from him to sleep in now acted like a morbid comfort blanket.

Fastening the last button on the cuff of his dress shirt, Roman finally looked up at you.

“Exactly how long where you listening to that conversation?” His tone was abrasive, the mask did little to muffle out any of his anger and suddenly you remembered what was going on.

“I-I- only the end. I swear. I don’t even know who you were talking about. I promise.” You stammer. “I woke up and you weren’t here so, so I got up to look for you and as I reached the door, I heard you talking outside. That’s it. I-I didn’t mean to listen, I promise.”

The gangster didn’t say anything for what seemed like forever, he just stared, the subtle rise and fall of his chest being the only sign that he wasn’t a statue. You had no way of knowing what he was thinking.

“I believe you, Sweetheart.” He finally spoke up. His voice much calmer this time, the petname soothing you slightly. “I do.”

You breathed a sigh of relief, finally willing yourself to stop shaking.

“But,” he continued as he walked across the room to the wooden chair situated at the corner of the bed. Suddenly, you remembered the loaded gun holster he’d left there last night, and your heart skipped a beat. With one hand he scooped up the leather holders and with the other he gestures for you to approach. “You’ve already heard what happens to snitches. How do I know you won’t go straight to the heat with this information? How do I know you won’t rat me out if the feds start asking questions? I don’t wanna see that good-looking face of yours get all cut up.”

By the time you were standing beside him you’d begun to shake again, even more so when he handed you the holster. Unsure what to do with it you held it at arms lengths, eyeing it warily. When Roman turned his back to you and stretched out his arms you figure that he wanted you to put him it on him. Cautiously you began to thread the straps over his arms.

“Well? Are you gonna answer me?” Roman prompted, shrugging his shoulders to make the holster sit a little more comfortably. You’d been so focused on the guns dangling in your hands that you’d forgotten he’d asked you anything. “I can’t have you wondering around when you know that kind information. Why should I trust you?”

“I’m not, I would never tell, I swear to you I won’t tell anyone. I promise and I would never break a promise.” You repeat the words under your breath as you step around him, your fingers brush against his chest as you reach to clasp the holster together at the front, only to discover that there is not clasp. You scrunch you nose up in confusion before a warm hand clasp around your chin and direct your face upwards.

A sense of dread fills in your chest as your stand directly in front of the famed Black Mask. The faint smell of polish fills your nose. He seems completely inhuman to you. You hear the stifled sound of him humming beneath the mask as his hand works across your chin, stoking your cheek before his fingers began to run through your hair.

You like the feel of his fingers, the way they move against your skin. Last night you’d been surprised to discover how soft they were, even as they’d dominantly explored every inch of your body. Memories of the night before ran through your head and sent a shiver down your spine. You’d be lying if you said last night wasn’t one of the greatest nights of your life, and before all this you’d considered leaving him your phone number. Now there was a voice in your head that keeps telling you what an idiot you are for ever falling into bed with this criminal. On the other hand, there was an undeniable attraction that made you weak at the knees, regardless of who he was or what he’d done. Besides, you’d already figured that Roman was involved with some dodgy stuff. His menacing attitude and ferociousness had been a big factor in what had attracted you to him in the first place.

Nervously, you looked up at him, wanting to make eye contact, only to be met with those unseemly shadowed out eye sockets. You sucked in a breath when you felt his free hand slide around your waist, roughly pulling you against his chest. You tasted the wood of the mask before you knew it was coming. The smell of would polish stinging your nose as he pressed the cold hard lips of the mask against yours. Briefly, you were taken back by this action, before you let go and kissed back, ignoring the swelling from last night’s kissing, you pecking the solid surface before pulling back.

Roman’s chest rumbled slightly, you heard an amused scoff come from beneath the mask before he untangled his hand from your hair to push the mask away from his face and resting it atop his head. Your lips twitch into a small smile when you can finally see his deep brown eyes. You notice a predatory glint, as he smirks back at you, before pressing his lips against yours. The taste of last night’s alcohol was gone, but you welcomed the smoky wood flavours that filled your mouth. Gingerly, you rubbed his chest and he replied by nipping at your bottom lip, drawing blood and eliciting a quiet moan from you.

All too soon he pulled away, a look of self-satisfaction plastered across his face. Lifting one hand to your mouth, he wiped a small drop of blood onto his thumb before pressing it between your parted lips. Catching the hit, you dart your tongue out to lick up the coppery liquid. Once your tongue is back inside your mouth, he removed his thumb and replaces it with his knuckles. Gently pressing them against you bottom lip, and watching you expectantly. Less confidently you puckered your lips, lightly kissing each point, knowing this was considered a sign of respect or appreciation.

Once you’d kissed each knuckle, he pulled back his hand, releasing you from his hold and stepping back to retrieve his suit jacket from the back of the chair. He pulled the fabric on with ease then strutted across the room.  Bewildered by the sudden change of event you simply stood and watched as he pulled the door open before turning to you.

“Catch you later, Doll—lock the door behind me, yeah?” He grinned, shooting you a sly wink before pulling the mask back down. With that he exited, closing the door behind him.

[oxygenbefore1775]

aot characters as types of poisons pt2

pt1 here!

➼ featuring: armin, eren, hange, historia, jean, levi, mikasa,

➼ cw: poisons and all the ways they could (and would) kill

➼ a/n: as a pharmacy student i also have to study toxicology for some reason so what better way to apply my knowedge than to use it for some hcs - also pls don't get any ideas from this, it's all morbid yet harmless fun

also this is gonna be a bit different from the original hcs cuz this time i will actually try to explain why a certain poison fits a certain character

 ꒰‧₊˚⌬☆༉‧₊˚ . ˚₊‧༉☆⌬˚₊‧꒰

armin

coniine of hemlock

like husband like wife since coniine kills the same way Annie's poison (strychnine) does - through paralysis of respiratory muscles (ie you suffocate with airways being completely free and being perfectly aware of you dying)

albeit coniine is more insidious in its approach to killing

first of all because hemlock, the main depository of coniine, is easily confused with other non-toxic edible and thus frequently (and unknowingly) consumed

secondly, coniine poisoning is easily to induce since it's used in medicine as a sedative and it takes very little for a healing dose to turn into a deadly one

thirdly, even with poisoning in full swing, it's hardly ever painful - in a narcotic-like state one simply falls asleep as paralysis gradually creeps up from the feet upwards, eventually reaching lungs and stopping breathing all-together

that being said, coniine is a quiet yet potent strength (like Armin with his oftentimes underestimated influence)

eren

cyanide

symbolically enough, the majority of cyanide vapors (which is the most common exposure method) occurs in the fires - destruction born from destruction

as lethal as it is notorious (like Eren) with death occuring in mere minutes after exposure

yet quick death doesn't bear any promise of painlessness - cyanide makes the last minutes of life an unbearable agony

this is mostly because cyanide fucks the body and its systems up in the most fundamental way possibly, binding all the incoming oxygen to itself and thus leaving the organism with inability to breathe on a chemical level (which reminds me a lot of Eren willing to take anyone's freedom should they choose to take his)

also there's a popular misconception that glucose is one of the antidotes against cyanide which would be very cute if true - the deadliest of poisons rendered harmless with a mere sweetness of sugar but alas

to me, cyanide perfectly captures Eren's ability to single-handedly destabilize whole systems, be they political, social or moral. just as cyanide cuts off oxygen, so does Eren with disrupting established orders, often suffocating any chance at peace and stability in pursuit of his ideals

historia

atropine of belladonna

never beating its deadly woman under the facade of prettiness allegations

humanity went through a whole arc with atropine from treating it as a beauty-enhancing product at first to later acknowledging its potency and medicinal as well deathly properties (like with Historia role in the plot)

also the sight of belladonna (where atropine is mostly found) lulls into a falls sense of security with the deceiving luster and sweetness of its berries, as if tempting you to taste it

funnily enough, one of the most prominent symptoms of atropine intoxication is quick heart rate, blown-out pupils as well as inhibition of sweating and salivating - which is no doubt a similar effect that the mere presence of Krista used to have on her fellow students in Cadet Corps (with her monicker being goddess and all)

although slow and improbable in its lethality, the effects of an acute atropine poisoning are certainly the least boring — take for example a 3-day-long delirium and all the hallucinations that come with it. And at the end it just might leave you with memory loss and other cognitive problems (not to forget all the memory losses Historia had at Frieda's behest)

atropine is a rare case of poison being used to combat other poisons (much like Historia and whatever she had going on with Eren and Ymir despite being quite morally challenged herself)

jean

helenalin of arnica

first thing first, this poison is a lover not a fighter (just like Jean)

it barely constitutes a deadly poison as it takes a lot of helenalin for a dangerous dose, let alone a lethal one - it won't kill you even if it tries

still, it is considered toxic through its irritating effect - when administered either internally or externally, it deals a minor damage to the tissue (idk it just reminds me of the way Jean was always causing tensions with his antics in cadet corps, harmless but still annoying in its own way)

frankly, it's more renown for its healing than harming properties

its most popular use is in relieving pain, swelling and bruises - alleviating nearly every kind of damage one might suffer, helenalin soothes it all

Jean is helenalin in every way - yes, it will help to recover from any damage but it's gonna sting like a bitch all throughout the healing process

hange

ergot

this one's unusual (like Hange) since it's a fungal poison and was a common scourge upon all the medieval populus

is a mother of LSD, all the things hallucinogenic

yet before its recreational properties could be harnessed, ergot was notorious for its profound and unpredictable effects on an organism

ergot fungus affects grain products like rye so if an outbreak of it occurs, large quantities of population are in for a lethal drug-trip

yet before death from violent convulsions, an unfortunate's mind is severely affected with a state of mania and madness (which is very evocative of Hange's intense approach to titan study)

ergot poisoning is also monickered as holy fire which is due to the gangrenous state it induces, with limbs inflamed and turning black as if they've been burned and charred in flames (which reminds me... of nothing in particular)

levi

arsenic

the most common way of exposure is through the contaminated ground waters, especially in places unfortunate enough to lack any precautions that can detect presence of arsenic

arsenic has neither taste nor smell so it's stealthy and precise in taking out lives - gradual and subtle

this poison's committed - once it starts to take effect, arsenic poisoning is hard to reverse

funnily enough, arsenic used to be added to cosmetic products as it prevented skin aging and made the user look younger that their years

although the most potent entry way is through inhaling arsenic vapors, the other ways are still as deadly as they can get - this is why arsenic is used in almost all of industrial "killing" -cides (pesticides, herbicides, insecticides etc)

despite its very much lethal properties, arsenic still finds its use in cancer treatment - per numerous studies, arsenic particles harm less healthy cells than other anti-cancer drugs

in essence, arsenic suits Levi as it's predominantly cloaked in its reputation of deadly precision, meanwhile its benefits are lesser known

mikasa

aconitine of wolf's bane

a warrior's type of poison, commonly applied on arrows and tips of javelins

the plant takes its name from its use against wolves or other predators that could pose threat to livestock and humans

in case of acute exposure which is relatively easy to get, death occurs in a matter of hours and is incredibly painful in the process as it causes extreme burning and numbing pain - the poison kills through either stopping heartbeat or breathing

it's usually quite difficult to get poisoning through skin contact but not in case with aconitine - it's so toxic that even touching wolf's bane flowers causes numbing sensation in finger tips

also like arsenic, aconitine has its uses in medicine through its pain-relieving effect even though the dosage is to be kept extremely low since even a single mg of the stuff can result in death

the main reason for me choosing aconitine as Mikasa's poison is mainly due to its application - it was almost always used as a means of protection against dangerous predators

[crowtoed]

Sometimes as a non-binary person you end up finding the randomest modes of dress that give you gender euphoria: like vintage lesbian.

A pinup stevedore, if you will. (Turban and blouse from Freddies of Pinewood, overalls made from Folkwear's Rosie the Riveter set, makeup mainly from Notoriously Morbid.)

[manie-sans-delire-x]

Thoughts on ASPD stigma.

Even psych professionals often dont comprehend how having CD or ASPD (or NPD or even BPD) is not the same as having "bad person disorder", and they forget that a person without those disorders can be equally toxic or manipulative. ANYONE can be. Even depression or anxiety can contribute to someone being toxic. Drug addicts are known for being highly manipulative and toxic, yet we correctly identify them as the victim and patient who needs serious help. (And you dont even choose to have a mental illness at all, while many addictions start as a choice).

The stigma and defeatist attitude of psych professionals refusing to treat ASPD or see it as impossible leads to confirmation bias and a self-fulfilled prophecy. Even if the ASPD itself cannot be treated, most have co-morbid issues, and a depressed, drug addicted, traumatized sociopath will behave worse than a non-depressed, non-addicted, healthier one. They should focus on other areas and work on what they can. The brain, and life itself, is a system, and making one aspect healthier will make all parts at least a little healthier. Also, they know people with ASPD notoriously do not seek out treatment and tend to reject it, so why not try when someone is willing and take the opportunity to learn what works and what doesnt? Where is the willingness to try? To try challenging their own therapeutic skills? The academic curiosity to learn?

Ive been medically discriminated twice, due to an ASPD diagnosis myself, and due to my own schooling in psych, I know that they straight up teach students that therapy just makes people with ASPD more manipulative. And I'm actually not even denying that, I do think thats true in many cases, but refusing to treat a person with mental illnesses and trauma because they MIGHT become more manipulative in the future is crazy. This way of thinking is not tolerated in any other field- medical, legal. A doctor doesnt (usually) refuse to give treatment, even to a murderer or rapist. A judge cant sentence a person as guilty because they feel like they might commit a crime in future. (And at least committing a crime is objective, while "being manipulative" is subjective, vague, and also not illegal...).

Whenever I work as a mental health professional, I make a point to approach my clients with unrelenting positive regard. I think the best of them even when they're being very symptomatic, even when cursing me out and physically attacking me. I hold the belief that they are trying their best and severely struggling, and I treat every day as a new leaf and fresh start between us. The patient who actually has the illness is the one suffering the most. Its a disorder for that reason, because having it really sucks and negatively impacts a persons life in every category of functioning. No one sane chooses that. If I can do this with an ASPD diagnosis, they certainly are able to.

I think this stigma could be reduced a little by including internal experience and thought process in the diagnosis criteria, or at least discussing it with students, not just focusing on external behavior. This deeper understanding of the psychology behind ASPD may increase empathy and help clinicians see ASPD as a complex, usually trauma-driven mental illness whose presentation can vary a lot between people and that doesnt make up the entirety of a person's personality, instead of just seeing someone choosing to be shitty.

Also I know prison inmates are a conveniently available population to research, but they should really research people with ASPD who are able to keep out of prison and somewhat function in society, and females too, not just violent male convicts. Obviously basing all knowledge on extreme cases and only one sex is going to give a skewed perception.

[rftwfic]

Thinking about notoriously stoic Derek Hale being so open and expressive (for him) with his son. Thinking about 19 year old Derek staring at the course catalog at NYU signing up for his next semester classes and putting down Intro to Child Psychology to meet his social sciences requirement because he has the same morbid curiosity we all do of wanting to know why we're fucked up the way we are. Thinking about Derek with baby Eli sitting in a high chair, engaging him and emoting at him because he knows to do otherwise would hurt his pup. Thinking about the rest of the pack being confused because they've never seen Derek like this before and it's kind of creeping them out, meanwhile Stiles, who seems to know more about the Hales than anyone besides the Hales themselves, doesn't know why everyone is so confused, because Derek grew up with a bunch of little siblings and cousins, obviously he's good with kids.

[acheronist]

🧛🏻‍♀️⚰️

disclaimer i am not a scholar or a historian or an archaeologist. i just like vampires in a freak way and read a lot of weird articles + listen to podcasts and think about this a lot.

so the vampire burials that i know the most about were done in the general region of like... hungary / slovakia / romania / poland kind of following along the line of the carpathian mountain range. but also then in like, early america as well for some reason. random ass 1700s vampire hysteria panic swept the nation (all 25 square miles of it).

anyways so this area in europe is notorious for vampire folklore anyways so it tracks that where the european vampire folklore was originating = where people are most frightened of it for real. and so the vampire graves that have been excavated and studied are HONESTLY PROBABLY just the graves of like..... normal people who were ill in some way, and therefore cast into a suspicious light, and then died. but it was a fairly common belief that if someone WAS a vampire, especially prior to dying, then they'd return from the dead and attack and kill their family first before moving onto friends and neighbors and the rest of the community. bad for the community. so after the "vampire" in question died, the living would take extra steps to ensure that the deceased would not rise from the grave again and start killing them because well No One would like that! so one one hand its really kind of upsetting that-- essentially-- the dead were being accused and vandalized without the ability to protect or defend themselves AND THEN ALSO having their burial rites get screwed around with. sure you prevented the vampires but now we've got fucking ghosts. great work everyone.

and then on the other hand morbid freaky trivia is so fascinating to MEEEEEEE so here some of the most dramatic methods that i can recall from the top of my head:

dismembering the deceased's corpse ( with an emphasize on decapitation)

and for the decapitation, sickles or hand scythes were placed over the deceased's neck, so if they lived and sat up again, they'd cut their own throat

also rearranging the dismembered body (pieces) or the body (whole) in specific patterns

padlocking the deceased's feet together

placing bricks or rocks into the deceased's mouth, either breaking their teeth or making it impossible for any postmortem vampire zombie bite damage to be inflicted upon the living

pinning the deceased's corpse into the ground via steel or iron stakes to keep them from getting up. often stakes were stabbed thru the heart which is where the motif in media today comes from

but also sometimes removing the heart from the deceased completely and burning it also happened

burying the deceased with wreathes of garlic and poppy seeds and paprika peppers to act as wards to keep them where they were. which is hilarious also when you take into account how much garlic and poppy and paprika gets used in eastern european cuisine

and i might be making this part up LMAO but i feel like in my heart. and brain. that i remember a colonial american(?) story where an autopsy was performed on a recently deceased girl(??) whose organs still looked "fresh" and functional, as it were, and not like the organs of someone dead. because she was obviously rising from the dead and drinking the blood of the living which we can tell from her remarkably fresh organs. this was another great instance of vampire organ harvesting but i for SURE need to go try and find my source for this again.

and similarly, i also am like 90% sure I've read about exhuming someone who had been accused of being a vampire, and judging how their rate of decomposition was going, and if they looked too fresh and alive then they were a vampire and we can brutally kill them again. obviously differences in burial climates and situations would have no bearing or affect upon the body's rate of decay btw.

but then as we work our way up thru history, illegal body snatching also became an incredibly common thing as anatomists and doctors and surgeons needed the bodies to learn from. and I'm SOOOO so certain that grave cages / mort safes were invented because normal people did not want their corpses to be body snatched and turned into underground med student dissection homework. BUT ☝🏻 i have also seen claims that cages over the graves were put in place to keep the vampires IN the grave, not to keep body snatchers OUT of the grave. and then I went hmm. where have I seen big elaborate grave cages before?

mother fucking henry ford has a mort safe cage on his shit, so the only reasonable conclusion to all of this is that henry ford was a vampire. amen. my edible is hitting now and i cant think of a good conclusion to this post sorry. someday i will write an essay. or finish making my gay ass zine about this.

[beansmakesthings]

You 🫵

Yes you

Give me your Penny Lamb headcanons (rtc)

Well, if you insist! These are just some random kinda general ones. Some will mention some gore and the accident and some will vaguely reference familial abuse, so be warned!

- Penny had a really rough childhood and was taken from her father indefinitely when she was 10. She's been in the system ever since, as families keep deciding they can't handle the combination of PTSD and autism and gave her back.

- The only biological family she really connected with was her grandmother, who was the one who gave Penny her doll

- Penny wants to be a sheep farmer one day like Gran was before she passed.

- Penny's Metis on her bio mom's side. She doesn't really talk about it much because her mother died shortly after she was born and her father kept her away from that side of her family and Penny never really learned much about her culture. She doesn't really know what all it means.

- This one is kind of a general RTC headcanon, but the way the choir survives the Cyclone after the musical is that Karnak quite literally shifted the timeline. They technically inhabit an alternate universe where the only change is they survive. This means everyone has two conflicting memories of how the accident happened and Penny has very vivid nightmares that constantly switch between losing her head and waking up alive aftermath of the crash with her throat sliced and her neck broken.

- Penny had a sort of identity crisis at 3 am due to these dreams and cut and bleached her hair in Jane Doe fashion. She actually found it strangely comforting to sort of pay homage to the person she was when she found her friends and keeps the look. She didn't like being Jane Doe, but she appreciates what Jane did for her.

- Penny always liked scary movies and stuff like that, but after the accident and the whole Jane Doe debacle she becomes very fascinated with anything morbid and death related as a sort of weird coping mechanism.

- Penny also gets very into the goth, emo, and heavy metal scenes after the accident. She cries listening to Nemo by Nightwish (no I will not shut up about that song)

- Speaking of music, Penny is a life long Marianas Trench fan and when Constance finds out they NEVER SHUT UP ABOUT IT

- Penny had a big crush on Ocean for a while before they started dating, but it was always kind of soured by Ocean acting SO homophobic and SO ableist all the time. It was a huge internal conflict for Penny until Ocean finally turned around, apologized to all the people she'd hurt, and genuinely changed for the better. Penny is actually quite proud of Ocean's progress.

- Penny's hyposensitive to touch and loves deep pressure, squishy hugs, cuddles, and textures. She's notorious for touching stuff without permission when she thinks no one's looking just because the texture looks ✨️feely✨️ (same girl same)

- Mischa is her favourite person to go to for sensory hugs cause he's taller than her and kinda chubby and kinda muscular and he can just envelop her entirely and squeeze the life out of her which she loves.

- Penny really likes Moutain Dew. Mountain Dew of any flavour. The only things she drinks are water, Mountain Dew, and the occasion double-double from Tims. Ocean got her that Baja Blast t-shirt from Hot Topic and Penny wears it every day as pajamas.

- Penny's new family (the one she was placed with after the other one didn't look for her or report her missing or anything at all after the accident) are very nice, but she's incredibly wary of them because of her history. She prefers to be out of the house so she doesn't have to interact with people who are supposed to be parental figures to her.

- Penny loves going to Ricky's, laying on his floor, and being smothered by all his cats while he tells her about Star Trek lore.

- Penny and Noel are the same height, so often times he comes over asking to try on her skirts and stuff to see if they'll look good on him. She has lost half her wardrobe to him.