#Why Do You Want Me To Suffer Specifically

[rindreamery]

out of breath, got me going like...

attractive things that the blue lock men do.

itoshi rin, itoshi sae, nagi seishiro, michael kaiser, oliver aiku, yukimiya kenyu

itoshi rin sends you gym pics without you having to ask.

it initially took a lot of convincing, at first, to get rin to send you a picture. in his eyes, it was embarrassing— the idea of pulling his phone out mid-workout, taking a picture, sending it to you, and then going back to whatever he was doing. his mind would drift off to the weird stares he would probably get from others, and the fact that he also wasn’t exactly known for knowing how to pose to begin with. as much as he loved making you happy, there were just some things he was not willing to do.

it took a lot of begging, and for the first few months, the answer was always, “no.”

the first picture came unexpectedly. your phone was thrown off to the side of the bed, not really anticipating any texts from rin for the next hour or so, given the fact that he was at the gym. so you were surprised when you heard a familiar tune come from your phone— one specifically assigned to his contact. you had no idea why he would be texting you. 

you’re absolutely floored at what you see; jaw left hanging and eyes practically bulging out of their sockets, almost dropping the phone.

it's a gym picture. he's doing a normal pose, nothing too special. he’s standing in front of the mirror, one hand shoved into the pocket of his shorts, and the other holding onto his phone. his face was partly covered by his phone, but you could see the blush spread across his cheeks and the tips of his ears. but it wasn’t that that got your attention— no, it was something entirely different.

he was wearing a sleeveless compression shirt, giving you a full view of his arms. they were glistening in sweat and perfectly toned. the arm that was propping his phone up was slightly flexed, from the position it was in, adding to the bulk and definition in his biceps. and you could see the veins traveling up the arm of his hand, the one that was shoved into his pocket, crawling up from the back of his hand to his forearm. the bright overhead lighting, with a combination of the dim background lighting, served to emphasize every line and crevice of his exposed skin. 

“this what you wanted?” came a message right after, “i know you’re reading this right now, respond.” you felt weak. he definitely researched how to do this.

words couldn't describe how you felt. so, your immediate response was to send him a flurry of incoherent texts; a mixture of randomly pressed keys and crying emojis. but that’s what feeds his ego— your reactions are what makes smile smugly to himself, covering his lips with his hands as he reads your texts over. he starts to send you gym pictures more consistently after that, patiently waiting for your response after each one. at this point, it’s become a part of his gym routine.

itoshi sae drapes his arm over the back of your seat while reversing.

driving with sae was a true test of control— specifically, yours. it had become increasingly hard to focus whenever he was driving, with every little motion of his body seeming to pull your attention away from the road. he was just so distracting, to the point that you had started offering to drive instead. yet to no avail, because he always insisted on being the driver, furthering your silent suffering in the passenger's seat. but, there was nothing more testing than whenever he was reversing the car.

it’s an internal battle; it takes everything in you not to ogle him so openly. and somehow, you’re losing a battle to yourself.

it’s as if your eyes instantly become magnetized to sae— the way he moves when he rests his arm so casually, yet so securely, on the back of your headrest’s frame. and it doesn’t help that this position gives such a perfect view of him. the way the muscles in his arm ripple and flex ever so slightly, but visibly, under his loose dress shirt. the way his folded sleeves ride up every time, and the exposed part of his forearm constantly taunts you to take a peek. you hate that you suddenly become hyperaware of everything he does in that moment. especially his fingers, and the way they tickle the back of your neck, almost touching you but not quite there.

you have to hold back the subtle shudder that sweeps over your body.

it feels like he’s taking up so much space, demanding you to notice him. the way the scent of his cologne wafts over to you, the bergamot and sandalwood notes of it slowly overwhelming your senses. the faint shift in his posture, emphasizing the subtle stretch of his neck, giving you a view of his collarbones and necklace. and the way his lips curve ever so slightly when he speaks, his voice in a low tone, with his eyes flitting over to you momentarily before they’re back on the road.

it has to be intentional, he has to be aware of what he’s doing. “you’re doing this on purpose,” you mutter under your breath, willing yourself to turn away and look out the window.

“doing what on purpose?” he asks, but the mirth in his tone is evident— you can practically hear the tiny smirk that’s splayed on his lips. you’ve concluded that he’s sick in the head, that he’s playing with you right in your face. “i’m just making sure we don’t get into a crash, you baby.” and you willingly fall for it, every time.

nagi seishiro becomes clingy when it's just the two of you.

laying in your lap, while you’re absorbed in your own hobby, is one of nagi’s favorite pastimes. it keeps him close to you, but allows you both to do your own thing. sometimes, he’d take a nap while you work, one hand loosely holding onto yours in his sleep. other times, he’d play video games on his phone, making sure his volume is turned all the way down to not distract you. but most of the time, he likes to just lay there and admire you, with a barely noticeable smile on his lips.

but he becomes somewhat miffed whenever your hair falls in front of your face, blocking his (initially) flawless view of you. and it annoys him more whenever you don’t push it out of the way.

so, he decided to take it upon himself to move it for you, arm lazily stretched up to reach for you. you barely noticed it at first, so absorbed in the book that you were reading. the sensation of his fingers ghosting over your cheeks doesn’t register in your mind, and his touch is barely there. and then you feel it. his fingers are in your hair, gathering the strands on the back of his hand before he’s brushing it out of the way. it’s so gentle, the way he locks your hair behind your ear, and the way his hand lingers a little longer on your skin after. his fingers then travel from your ear to your jawline, finger lightly tracing the side of your jaw, and it makes you curl in on yourself at the feeling. (it tickles, but also oddly comforting.) and then, he’s pulling his arm back down to reach for your wrist instead, fingers wrapping around it.

your skin is tingling, and the surface of your skin feels warm— taken aback by the sudden act of affection. you glance down at him with a curious look, only to see that he’s already staring attentively at you, and you feel his hold on you tighten. “you know,” you begin, “you could’ve just asked me to do it for you.”

"you always get so lost in whatever you're doing," he mumbles slowly, his voice sounding almost whiney at the fact. his hand, the one firmly holding onto your wrist, is traveling up until it’s wiggling the book out of your hand. (you don’t miss the small furrow of his brows when you jokingly grip onto the book, before giving in and letting it fall to the side.) he takes this chance to intertwine your fingers, his larger hands completely enveloping yours. "i don't mind it, but i hate when i can’t see you."

michael kaiser holds intense eye contact with you when you're talking.

at times, you found it hard to talk to kaiser. he's constantly exuding such an intense confidence, one that's often present in his gaze, that you could never truly hold face-to-face conversations with him. you're always shying away from it, crumbling under the intensity, and he finds twisted pleasure in how flustered it makes you. the way the words always die on the tip of your tongue whenever your eyes meet, when you see that his focus is locked on you

it makes you look away, because it's the only thing you can do to escape it. but kaiser doesn't like it when you're looking away from him— he wants your attention. he wants to see you when you talk excitedly about your day.

he’ll get that attention however way he can. from where you're seated on the couch gives him quick access to you. you can feel his tattooed hand crawling up the skin of your thighs, sliding up slowly, leaving a trail of goosebumps as he goes. he stops short of the hem of your shorts, planting his hand firmly on the spot. he gives it a firm squeeze, fingers digging into the plush of your thighs— trying to get you to cave into him. “why won’t you look at me when you talk?” he’s leaning into you, invading your personal space despite the spacious couch. you can feel his breath on the shell of your ear with each word, “mein liebling, i want to see you when you talk. look at me.”

“you can listen to me talk without needing me to look at you,” you swallow, and his grip tightens ever so slightly at your words.

you're shifting awkwardly, trying to ignore the way your heart beats a little faster at the proximity, at the fact that his voice has started to sound almost pleading. almost— because he would never admit to something as desperate as pleading. it’s hard to focus when he’s this close, when he’s right there. his fingers remain on your thigh, tracing deliberate lines over your skin, and despite the way you're trying to resist, you can feel your resolve crumbling.

it’s not every day that you see someone like kaiser be on the precipice of begging for your attention. 

“i promise, i’ll stop teasing you. look—” his other hand is hooking under your chin, coaxing you to look at him. and you do— his eyes, once intense and teasing, now holds a softer and almost guilty looking gaze. “keep talking, yeah?”

oliver aiku likes to loosen his necktie with one hand after a formal event.

neckties are the worst, an opinion oliver will stand by ‘til the end of time. he absolutely despises having to put one on for formal events, and he’ll do his best to charm his way out of having to wear one. it never works, so the second he puts it on, he’s already thinking of the moment he gets to pull it off of himself. he doesn’t think much of it when he does it— one finger looping in the space between his neck and necktie, and he’s pulling at it without care.

but recently, he’s started to notice how intently you’d been staring each time he did it.

oliver’s got a keen-eye; not even the smallest thing can get past him. he drinks in the sight of you when he does it, eyes fixed on you, and taking joy in the fact that you don’t even seem to notice. you’re too busy being fixated on his hand, and the way the vein on his hand becomes prominent when he flexes it to pull, or the way his fingers seem to play around with the fabric. your eyes are so sharp, but somehow so unfocused, all at the same time. he loves how it gets you worked up.

it’s entertaining, so he takes it up a notch.

he drags his fingers, slowly, down to the first button of his shirt. and then he’s unbuttoning it with one hand, putting in extra effort in exposing his collarbones. he can’t fight the grin that makes its way to his lips, at your reaction— your eyes are widening, and he can visibly see you gulp at the sight. and then your eyes are shooting up to meet his, and his grin becomes impossibly wider.

“like what you see?” the teasing and flirtatious lilt in his voice is unmistakable, and you can’t help but draw your eyes back down to where his hand is twirling the tie around his fingers. he makes you tick, but he’s also so attractive, and you hate that he can easily make you blush with his words.

“you wish.” you choose to look away with a scoff, crossing your arms over your chest. “it’s gonna take more than that.” that makes him oddly excited, brows raising in mild surprise, and you honestly should’ve known better. it’s like you’re offering up a new challenge to him, and he gladly accepts.

oliver still hates neckties; that’s an opinion that will never change. he still looks forward to the second he gets to pull it off. except now, he gets to play a little game with you while he does it.

yukimiya kenyu keeps a hand on your back at all times, in public.

it’s a habit formed purely from the fact that the streets of shibuya have the tendency to become really crowded, and yukimiya hates it when you get separated from him in such a crowd. he likes it when you’re right by his side— he can keep a close eye on you at all times and protect you from getting pushed around. and originally, it started off with holding your hands. it was fine during the colder seasons, providing the two of you with extra warmth. but you had both quickly realized that it could become quite uncomfortable during summer, making your hands all sweaty and sticky.

so he experimented. he let his arm drop from your shoulders to the small of your back, his palm hovering over your skin, initially unsure of how you would react.

“is this okay?” he would lean down to whisper in your ear, and his voice was so gentle and so concerned about you. even when he was the one getting shoved around by the crowd, with people constantly running into the sides of his shoulders, he was still only thinking about you. you and your comfort. “tell me if this is uncomfortable, and i’ll figure something else out. okay?”

it made you shiver— you felt a heat crawl up your spine, and your stomach was immediately fluttering with butterflies.

you nod, “no, this is okay.” more than okay, actually, but you keep that to yourself. “thank you for asking.” he flashes you one of his pretty smiles, and he leans up to look straight ahead in the crowd again. but this time, his touch is more present— his palm is now firmly planted onto your skin, and he’s actively weaving you through the crowded streets.

whenever someone would get too close to you, or if he anticipates that someone is about to crash into you, his hand would travel to the side of your waist. and yukimiya grips on it, pulling your body flush against his side, effectively pulling you out of the way. “sorry,” he’ll whisper an apology, not having intended to hold you so tightly. his hands will go right back to where they initially were, not without trailing his fingers on the way back, leaving sparks tingling across your skin where he touched. “did i hurt you?”

“no, i’m fine,” you can keep your hand there, you almost tell him. it drives you insane that everything he does is unintentional— but maybe, one day, you'll be able to tell him exactly what you’re thinking.

note. yukki debut on my acc ??? do we fw the casual, less poetic writing cuz there was really no way to make this poetic 👩‍🦯 just astronomically down bad writing all around

© rindreamery, 2024

tags. @choccorin @mininji

[balrogballs]

Just thanking you for drawing Elrond as Lúthien-lookalike and not receding hairline Elrond because I’m so tired of people drawing him like the movies

congratulations on sending me this annoying ass message and thus becoming the reason why I will only ever draw Elrond with a receding hairline and steep widow’s peak from this day forwards 👍🏽

i genuinely do not understand why people have spent almost 25 years being so fucking deranged over this specific thing like what is going on in your life that some random actor’s hair loss trajectory is something you devote any brain space to! there was literally a fucking viral reddit post about elrond hairline discourse this year! why do people care so much! the films are nearly 25 years old!

also i’m sorry but literally every character in the films wore a wig, they would have sorted out his hairline in 2 seconds if they had wanted to (and they clearly lowered it for the Hobbit films when he’s meant to be younger + HW has worn hairpieces in most of his roles so is clearly fine with augmentation) so it was evidently a deliberate choice to keep it like that — and imo it’s a really good one! It’s interesting! He’s still hot! The catholic schoolgirl braids are fun! It’s eldritch! Elrond is old as fuck! He’s a card carrying old coot! Cirdan canonically has a Gandalf beard! Elrond is meant to be half human so ageing isn’t unrealistic anyway! If you had that kind of life you’d lose your damn hair too!

(tldr the guy is fit regardless of hair, i hate that i spent 10 minutes typing this response out re: the most pointless topic known to mankind and fyi the hairline doesn’t even negate the luthien thing, luthien was a woman so obviously she wasn’t going to suffer from male pattern baldness??? 😭)

[rmbunnie]

I'm reading A Lonely Place of Dying and Alfred latching immediately onto Tim is NASTY work. Tim shows up and is like "I never aimed to be Robin! I mean I did karate my whole life to emulate Robin and just so happen to have sought you out and grabbed this costume in my size out from that case and really you should be calling me Robin just for now and let me come with you as Robin but I never dreamed it would specifically be ME being Robin. You have a lovely house and home btw :) Now go back to being 10." And Dick's understandably like "No I am a grown man now who are you" and Bruce is not here for this one, but later on is like "You aren't Robin, you're some kid dressed up like my dead son." But Alfred?

IMMEDIATELY Alfred is implying Dick was trying to subtly ask Tim to be Robin (simply not true in in NTT 61, when the implication is made, although he changes his mind in Batman 442) and that Bruce should be grateful for this young man's profound bravery and immense natural skill and maybe show him a few pointers or something idk we'll see :) Like let's be clear, the idea that Tim didn't want to be Robin is simply not part of this story outside of like two lines of dialogue where he's like "oh I didn't consider it could be me!" after which he immediately goes "Wow so you ARE gonna let me be Robin right?" the second he sees the opportunity. The guy essentially makes himself Robin once Dick makes it clear he isn't gonna be. Dick tells Tim nobody should be at first (until he changes his mind) but is ignored because Tim doesn't get why and goes with what he understands, his own stance.

I'm of the opinion that the whole "Tim understands that being Robin is an arduous task full of suffering from the start and chooses to bravely yet sadly martyr himself for the cause" thing I see sometimes is strongly disproven, at least in the beginning of his Robin career, by his "Batman NEEDS a Robin (to love and care for and to watch out for him in return :) )" line of reasoning, his subsequent willingness for Anybody to be Robin whether or not it was him (unless he was consciously okay with other children suffering for his benefit which I find really hard to believe,) and his active glee at anything involving being Robin and persistent smiling pursuit of Doing So against Batman's strong disapproval, because he hasn't officially said no (he did several times, but you can't blame a kid for being excited.) Like, I think he said he never dreamed of being Robin just because having a kid come in begging to replace Batman's dead son because it was a personal aspiration would be extraordinarily rude and arrogant and they wanted people to like this one. He was NOT in any way adverse they just couldn't make him THAT presumptuous, and he is by nature of what he's doing already moderately so.

But say it was true, that Tim was actively opposed to being Robin? Alfred would be pushing this shit HARD onto this thirteen year old kid like what the fuck bro. And "From what Master Richard said, he follows your orders." is HEINOUS but let's not get into that.

[pinkpastels113]

Tell us how you feel about arcane. Use your emotion words! Use a visual aid if you must, too lol.

you want some visual aid? i'll give you some visual aid:

that describes perfectly ab how i am feeling rn

first of all the LESBIAN SEX SCENE????!! I-??!! i knew that something was bound to happen (esp after meljay and the rated for sex warning in season 2) and i celebrated when they (finally) kissed but oh my god?? an actual lesbian sex scene? in a prison?? in vi's sister's prison?? after a parallel about how cait is always finding her in a prison and expected her to be there?? (with dramatic music and banter and soft giggling and the ANGLES and HAND PLACEMENTS??) I AM NOT OKAY

just that scene alone is enough to nudge me off a cliff. but moving on

how is JAYVIK more homoerotic than now-100%-canon caitvi?? that's all i have to say. (what do you MEAN that love conquers all?? that he loved and admired viktor for all his imperfections and that was what made him special and beautiful?? GET OUTTA HERE)

i did not know that i needed timebomb until this season but HOLY FUCKING SHIT why must you make ekko fall (surprisingly, even to himself) in love with jinx/older powder and have that ripped away from him not like two days later?? WHYYYYY (the dance. the "can we pretend it's like the first time?" the "oh and he's got lines." the nervous wave after he fucked up in that scene with dead vi and powder was like hmp and he goes :(. the mural. im sent. im gone. nobody speak to me.)

ISHA NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO (she was just trying to be like jinx and copy everything that she does and is and looked up to her as a hero STOP WHY MUST YOU DO THIS TO ME. also the song?? IM CHINESE BRO AND I WAS SOOOO EMOTIONAL OVER THE LYRICS like hit me where it fucking hurts why dont you)

i cried at how vander suffered a fate worse than death. @becasbelt can attest to that

caitlyn adfshjk i knew she would come around and she was and always has been my blorbo (even if she stayed evil) MWAH my female rage filled, slightly wild, grief clouded, confident, "im an excellent shot," sexy, " i am a decorated officer, leader of house kiramman, address me with respect, or keep your mouth shut." dictator, vampire, badass, mofo. YES

the way she said "no amount of good deeds can undo our crimes" hit me bc she's acknowledging that she went off the rails and did some pretty bad things to justify and achieve (which she didn't. not really) her goals

i LOVED jinx in this season. she single-handedly made it a comedy show and was the sole focus of a lot of the emotional damage the storytellers and animators wanted to convey

the way jesus came to be and then quickly became evil SDFHSDKJ i was legit like WEEO WEEO ABORT ABORT JESUS HAS TURNED EVIL (also want to point out the "no you wont" sky dialogue bc DAMN she really called you out huh viktor)

that alternate universe timebomb episode had me gasping so much (like SILCO?? WHAT ARE YOU DOING THERE?? WHERE DID YOU COME FROM?? what do you mean everyone is well and happy but at the cost of vi's death???) i think i had asthma for a split second there

MELLLL MY GODDESS MVP PLAYER you saved cait's ass so many times it's not even funny and ugh the way you finally stood up to your mom (very cleverly too, i might add) ugh i applaud

EKKO MY KINGGG the way he hurts himself so bad turning back time and specifically saving jinx from offing herself BYE

HEIMERDINGER MY TINY ANNOYING/affectionate FURBALL WHYY

no but yea i am ruined and my emotions have faded away into numbness and i hope this post was relatable to the people in the arcane fandom and i also agree that this season was way too condensed and rushed and the last episodes in particular needed at least a couple more to drag out the events and character development bc at times when i am supposed to be cheering i am crying and at times i am supposed to be crying i am screaming and at times i am supposed to be screaming i am Horny and at times i am supposed to be Horny my heart is wrenching but only a few tears slip out bc IT IS CUT TO THE NEXT SCENE AGAIN??? does that make sense??

(also do we think jinx is actually dead or no. im still not sure but obv i would hope/am hoping that she is lmao)

[ochrearia]

ether

I'm normal (lying) and I needed to put this somewhere so bad and it's still not enough but YS I'm sorry. I'm making you suffer even more but you need to understand we're basically the same at this point and you're really the only bitch that I can pretend like feels exactly what I feel. Fuck. RGBFverse prompts aren't just silly fiction anymore

Every damn prompt in the last two or so days has been real. Been me. I feel like that was obvious

BFs in this one-shot: Yourself (YS)

God it was getting rather ridiculous now. Could he even blame it all on the angelic instincts anymore? Sure, they certainly didn’t help, but that wasn’t… it wasn’t quite the same. At least, YS wasn’t really sure if it was or not. The guardian angel thing, that was more of a possessive protectiveness that flared up practically any time he saw or thought about his people he’d attached to. Which, good god, he was understanding why angels didn’t attach to this many people. It was bad enough to have one person taking up all your thoughts on any given day, because you were hard-wired to dedicate yourself to them, but he was at what, fifteen now? Probably more. And he wasn’t stopping his erratic attaching either. He’d probably keep making that number go up. Not like he was known to make good choices.

But this felt a little different. YS was no stranger to working himself up into trances over the sheer amount of sappy, sentimental thoughts he started getting over any given brother. And it wasn’t like those thoughts were specific to one idea. The protectiveness rang true in those trances and made itself known through his half-aware mumbling. And paired with it came thoughts of love, and appreciation, and everything in between he had no idea how to name.

But… were the trances even because of his angelic instincts? Or did he just feel so damn deeply about things in general? Suppose YS couldn’t really recall feeling much of these trances before he started meeting all of his brothers. Maybe he had thoughts pooled together like this about her, and he was sure of that but he probably just never considered it as a “trance”. Because it’s not alien to just love your girlfriend that much that you think every nice thought possible about her, right? And he used to be able to kiss her any time he wanted, show properly his affection and she’d understand it. Maybe feel it too.

So what the fuck was going on here? Every time his brain snagged on a thought about a brother it was like a fucking disaster was set off. YS very much didn’t care in terms of ‘what affection he could express’ compared to what he ‘couldn’t’, because it was all going to slip out at some point eventually. If you asked him, he was technically not allowed to express any type, because he didn’t deserve to, but Beefer would sooner crash straight through his mirror in full dino form and try to like, eat him or something. Because he could tell when YS was being an ass to himself and was sticking very clearly to his ‘job’ of butting in before it kept going.

God his heart. YS was going to die it felt like, because fuck, why did his heart have to ache so bad thinking about his brothers? Tripping himself up over the fact they cared about him, dizzying his own mind over the concept of being loved by anyone, much less this many people. And yeah, okay, sure, they were all technically the same person. And there was probably some merit to his previous idea of reality getting confused when there were two or more of them in the same world. Getting so cuddly for nothing because it felt like they had to become whole again despite not being fractured at all. But this was just… something else.

He loved so hard. Holy fuck, he really did to the point it was debilitating. That’s really what it was. It was debilitating, completely paralyzing him on the spot despite things he needed to be doing. It was so much, almost all the time, it took days sometimes for the ache in his chest to go away for a little, only for it to come back later to torment him again. It was like YS almost couldn’t breathe sometimes, thinking in a spiral of how much love he had for the people in his life now, people loving him back, caring for him, quite literally making him want to wake up to be alive tomorrow so he could keep them in his mind again and maybe even spend time with them. Family like he’d never experienced before, because angels in his world didn’t really care about each other. Couldn’t, when they had others to attach to.

God YS had so much of it to give. That was all he really wanted to do. Give, give it all, drain his heart to empty and still continue giving because he could, and that’s what his brothers deserved and more. Giving the world to the people he loved. For the asshole he believed so much he couldn’t want things, he wanted this so badly. Give all of himself away, unhealthy mindset be damned. He would do anything for his people. Because he cared. He cared, so much, and that thought was powerful enough alone to bring slight tears to YS’s eyes. Truth, raw and strong.

But that was the problem. He’d give everything. But he couldn’t give this feeling in his chest, the swirling in his brain, raw emotions that rippled in his body like tsunamis but were confined there. YS had no way to directly broadcast the exact things he felt, and it was like he was dying. Because it was all trapped and it wasn’t fair. Words weren’t enough, actions weren’t enough. None of what he’d been doing so far was enough no matter what he shared. And god, it was so bad, but he’d been describing it all with such negative words when it was literally the opposite.

He’d take being debilitated like this over any other kind of feeling, any day. Wanted this. Wanted.

This was… possessive. Very possessive. His brothers. Every single one of them. His. His to love and hold and appreciate, his to care for and lift up. And not a single damn regret about it. Too possessive? Probably, but this was all so new to him. He’d never done this before, in fact, he doubted that any angel had done this before. Attaching to this many people and feeling just as equally strong about each one. It was so much. And he could never give enough.

So important, all of them. Stuck in YS’s brain and he couldn’t get them out. And it didn’t matter how much he spoke about this to them, telling them point-blank that he loved them, holding them tight and not letting go until told, it was still just… not enough for what he felt in his heart.

YS’s heartbeat was freakishly slow. As were angel’s heartbeats. Probably didn’t help with the whole cold-blooded thing either. But every time he worked himself up into a trance, getting so mind-swirlingly loving, possessive, and almost needy, his heart would speed up. Noticeably speed up, because Beef had pointed it out before. God, he was so disgustingly sweet in his actions and that was mortifying to admit. Biff had a habit of saying it like it was though.

Tear my heart out of my chest, lay bare the ache it holds and feels because I cannot fucking take it anymore. I want you all to know. I wish I could perfectly convey it, I wish you could all feel what I feel, know how powerful my love and care really is, and if it’s too much then I’m so sorry. But it’s exactly what you deserve, and still more. Wonderful to me, kind to me, after all of my mistakes, stains on the world because of my wrong choices. People that aren’t here anymore because I didn’t do enough. But you’re all still here. And I know I have done nothing to deserve any of you.

YS felt like he was dying. But that was okay. If he got to die feeling so positively, then it would be his final victory.

God, I love you all. I promise. For the rest of my time here I will try to convey that as it is. For the rest of my time here I will work to repay and make up for everything I may put you through and you still stay.

For the rest of his time here. However long he’s wanted. And he hoped that would be forever, but that was usually never the case.

So he would love, like it would be over tomorrow.

[thepoisonroom]

'I flirted with the idea that instead of being trans that I was just a cross-dresser (a quirk, I thought, that could be quietly folded into an otherwise average life) and that my dysphoria was sexual in nature, and sexual only. And if my feelings were only sexual, then, I wondered, perhaps I wasn’t actually trans.

I had read about a book called The Man Who Would Be Queen, by a Northwestern University professor who believed that transwomen who were attracted to women were really confused fetishists, they wanted to be women to satisfy an autogynephilia. And though I first read about this book in the context of its debunkment and disparagement, I thought about the electricity of slipping on those tights, zipping up those boots, and a stream of guilt followed. Maybe this professor was right, and maybe I was only a fetishist. Not trans, just a misguided boy.

About a year later, on the Internet, I come across a transwoman who added a unique message to the crowd refuting this professor. Oh, I wish I remember who this woman was, and I wish even more that I could do better than paraphrase her, but I remember her saying something like this: “Well, of course I feel sexy putting on women’s clothing and having a woman’s body. If you feel comfortable in your body for the first time, won’t that probably mean it’ll be the first time you feel comfortable, too, with delighting in your body as a sexual thing?”'

-Casey Plett, Consciousness

[brown-little-robin]

oh I just realized that my interest in anime and my interest in clowns are linked by the concept of "exaggerated silliness". hmm!!!

[crystalpallette]

get you a girl who can give you everything

this started a long long time ago when I made a joke about how sega should put ringo in more dresses, and then my friend reminded me that oh yeah!! I can do that instead!!! and then one thing led to another and we joked about punk ringo and I drew that too. using ringo like a dressup doll is so cathartic it's kinda crazy

some bonuses (original designs, timelapse) under the cut bc I like these designs!! I might do some more with them!! please disregard the band poster in the first second of the timelapse that's something else!!!

[robots-are-kinda-hot]

((long post incoming)) hi i havent posted in seven years. have slugcats

@ant1quarian is to blame for this. go look at their rain world utmv au before I implode

Side note I refer to Saint as he but none of my chars care abt gender bc i blasted them with the genderfluid beam

He would be . going thru it LMAO

I’m sure “fallen saint” did not mean a saint who probably deserved to be fallen but fuck it we ball. The problem with my Saint is he will ascend everything. Whether they want it or not. This creates a shit ton of echoes. So him losing his powers (likely due to a certain oc of mine) would actually be a good thing… eventually

At first he’d be pissed as all hell. Stays pissed as all hell when he meets Dust, Killer, and Cross (or whoever else). Getting to know them goes… ehhh. They all travel together, but Saint is trying to stay distant so he can move up karma. He’s also still very angry about losing his powers, but bottling it up bc saints shouldn't have emotions (according to him).

This comes to a head when someone gives the slightest suggestion of liking being alive. He shuts them down so fast it’s almost comical, but any good vibes are killed when Saint mentions how he ascended everything he came across. Cue argument about maybe Not Doing That. Cue Saint’s outburst (“WHAT DO YOU MEAN IT’S WRONG?!”)

Saint storms away from the group and sleeps in a different shelter alone. He… ends up thinking a little too much and has a bit of a breakdown. Begrudgingly goes back to the group once the rain stops, looking for forgiveness, and he FINALLY gets a crumb of character development. THEN the stage is set for eventual shipping shenanigans huehehehe (Saint still needs some more character development before he has anything official though, the bastard)

Design notes (because my saint design is a bit strange if you don’t know the context) + bonus old Artificer art bc she didn’t make it in here </3 dw i still love u arti

So… I’m gonna avoid talking about the main part of his design for funsies but its blaringly obvious. feel free to guess I’m like 80% sure everyone will get it

-My Saint actually has six tentacles/“wings”- three on either side so he’s symmetrical. After he falls, he loses a wing to represent said fall.

-The Saint in the first drawing is different on purpose! That’s him at the start with no echoes :] ironically the more echoes he meets the more echoed he gets

-At least one of his ears are always askew. This has to do with his main design aspect.

-He does have teeth. Kinda. He probably wouldn’t need to eat when fallen though, he’s echoed enough to not need it

-The three thingies on his forehead act like heat sensors. This lets Saint see at lower karma levels without getting snow blindness.

-He has pupils, but they’re the karma 10 symbol… which he no longer has, so he no longer has pupils too

Arti… oh, arti. My beloved. What the fuck did I do to you /pos

I missed you and all your triangular edgy goodness. You’ll get a few modifications but your cool ass face shadow and demon horn ears are staying

A little note about Artificer’s design, too: She does have her scar here! It’s just not visible under her shadow. My Artificer got so swept up in her rampage that she straight up forgot about her pups. Not coincidentally, her scar is vaguely shaped like a slugpup’s head. She’s blocking out the memories of her past in favor of needless bloodshed.

Not pictured is her fire fur that I still adore. Basically sometimes her fur just… isn’t fur, it’s fire, and while it is a more symbolic thing I love the idea of her fur turning to flames when she jumps

[pocketramblr]

I was tagged by @gentrychild

No pressure tagging: @proclaimersofheroes @owlf45 and @achairwithapandaonit

[sskk-manifesto]

Ep 5!!!

[akkivee]

once again thinking about my ideal 3rd drb match up and how it’d stack up with plot beats and so far all i got is

🔴💥⚪️: true hypnosis mic opponents, maybe jakurai ends up on a side for further development to save yotsutsuji and that’s against ichiro’s current goal

🔵💥🟠: haven’t quite figured out why, but rei vs samatoki is the angle i’m thinking about

🟡💥🟣: all plot stakes division vs no stakes division lol idk really but i’m leaning towards a bonds angle or if hypmic wants to be real freaky, the side effects angle 🤔

[tleeaves]

Reclining on a fainting couch, hands laced together and resting over my stomach as I stare up at the ceiling. Why the fuck do I so frequently end up caught between being attracted to mean guys (and gals) but also the wife material guys? Duality of man is falling for both all the time, apparently, and never knowing which I actually genuinely like better.

I wrote out a whole theory about why I like mean people before I realised the logic no longer applied to my current circumstances/character and now I'm back at square one. Perhaps the real answer is as lame as: because I like a challenge and the idea that someone treats me Extra Special compared to how they treat others.

At the end of the day, idk.

[keeps-ache]

so Apparently a game i was running on my computer (without a cooler thing for a good minute there, because i guess i thought i was invulnerable to heat) may or may not have burnt out some parts of my machine. and it's been a couple months since i've played it bc it just stopped working one day and i just had to accept that lmao- but anyway i'm booting the game up again today, Surely this will go differently :3

[hyperfixation-or-death]

For the ask game any number but use Bilal

hi! thanks for the ask!! :) I'll go with a combo of:

4 - Mind meld / telepathy / mind reading, 15 - Soulmates, and 52 - Fake death / presumed dead.

(I was actually working on a platonic soulmate AU with telepathy just the other day, so this is perfect. fair warning, this oneshot absolutely got away from me with the angst, but rest assured that they do still get a happy ending in this AU. I just had to approach the AU by going, "which scenes would be made much better if they were telepathically linked? great, now which scenes would be so much worse?" anyways this scene would be so much worse with telepathic links, enjoy!) Background Info for AU:

soulmate AU where you and your soulmates are telepathically linked once you meet. you can turn this on and off once you learn how. soulmates are platonic in this universe. as in, your soulmate could be a romantic partner, but that's not related to the soulmate thing at all, and just as many soulmates are friends or family or what-have-you.

main four get to be soulmates with telepathic connections, yippee.

the connection is only completely severed with a soulmate when that soulmate dies. also, side note, it also might happen if your soulmate ceases to exist in the timeline you are in. fun fact that may or may not be very very relevant to this oneshot.

takes place in episode one, just before the test goes off.

Bilal had closed their connection on his side, just as Sam asked Romane if he could kiss her. He didn't want the others noticing the sharp twinge of sadness that he couldn't quite shove down far enough.

It was fine. It was just a crush, and they were all soulmates anyways, so there wasn't any point in feeling like-

Before he could finish the thought, the lights flickered. It startled him into reopening the connection; it was almost instinct at this point, a subconscious reaching out for the others. All four of them had moments where they would snap their connection open or shut as a kneejerk reaction.

He didn’t need to glance at the others to feel their combined rush of _confused-nervous, what-was-that, what's-wrong-with-the-_

"We should have paid the electric bill." Victor joked, and in the split-second that followed, Bilal felt someone relax the slightest bit. Probably Romane, he thought, because Sam was still-

Then the lights started flashing, bright and blinding, and the next several moments were full of panic that might have been his and might have been one of his friend's.

Then everything was dark, and there was a sharp pain in his head.

He felt like throwing up, and something was wrong but he couldn’t figure out what through the haze of-

He was on the floor. When had he ended up on the floor?

Then Bilal's head throbbed, and he blindly reached out to pull himself up.

His vision was blurry, and he could barely think straight, but-

_panic-panic-panic, this-isn't-happening, not-happening, not-real-not-real-not-real, where-are-they, why-can't-i-feel-the-_

Sam. Those were Sam's thoughts.

"Romane! Bilal, Victor!" Sam's voice was shaking.

Bilal tried to answer, but he couldn't manage to get anything out. The words died in his throat, and he felt sick, and-

Wait. He could feel Sam's end of the connection, but-

Not Romane. Not Victor.

Dread suddenly rising in his chest, Bilal reached out to his two friends. Open. Reaching. Tugging on empty air that usually tugged back, where were they-

_danger-danger-scared, where-are-they, not-dead, can't-be-dead, please-please-please-scared_

Sam was panicking.

It didn't make sense. They had been here five seconds ago, they couldn't have-

They weren't dead.

Bilal blinked hard, trying to clear his thoughts. He had to help Sam. Then he could figure out what was going on, it was probably just-

He managed to struggle to his feet.

Sam's gaze landed on him, and his eyes widened. He looked terrified.

Bilal opened his mouth, unsure of what he was going to say, but knowing he had to say something to calm his friend down.

Then Sam bolted for the door. And Bilal had no idea what he was doing, but he was about to leave, and-

Wait, was his connection to Sam opened both ways?

Oh. No, it wasn't, quick-

Bilal mentally shoved his side of their connection open.

_wait-don't, don't-go, scared-confused-scared, what-are-you-doing, don't-leave-please_

Sam froze, hand on the door. He glanced back.

Bilal stared back at him. "Sam? What-"

"…Bilal?" The hesitation in Sam's voice was unnerving. As if he was actually asking if it was him.

Slowly, Bilal nodded. The action made his head pulse with pain, and he winced.

Sam didn't move, but his side of the connection lurched with not-possible-not-real, what-happened, confused_

Sam's thoughts were so rapid that it was nauseating, but Bilal wasn't about to close the connection after what just happened.

"Sam, calm down." He breathed.

"You're not Bilal." Sam choked out.

"…what? Sam, it's me." Bilal took a breath, and tried to gather his thoughts enough to project some degree of calm through the connection.

_it's-me-here-right-here, look-breathe-calm-see_

Sam stared at him. Slowly, a little bit of the tension left his shoulders, and his thoughts slowed.

"You're…really Bilal?"

"Yeah. Of course." He murmured. "You okay?"

"Am I okay?" Sam blurted, voice incredulous. "Bilal, look…look in the mirror."

Bilal turned towards the dusty mirror in the corner. He glanced at his reflection.

And he froze.

He stared at his reflection for a few more seconds. Moved his hand up. Dropped it back to his side. "What happened? How am I-?"

"I don't know!" Sam had moved towards him while he was staring at the mirror. "But-"

"And - and Romane and Victor, what happened to-"

"Bilal." Sam's voice was shaking again. "I can't feel them. The connection on their side, try to open it, it's-"

"I tried." As soon as the words were out, Bilal realized what they meant, what they had to mean.

But it didn't make sense-

Sam was crying, he realized, distantly. Or maybe he was.

He couldn't separate his thoughts from Sam's right now, and he didn't want to.

Somehow, they ended up sitting against the wall, Sam's head against Bilal's shoulder.

"What happened?" Bilal finally murmured.

"Does it matter? They're already-" Sam's voice caught on the word.

Bilal didn't know what to say to that. He closed his eyes, hating the sensation of tears stuck to his eyelids.

He wanted his mom.

He didn't know how much time went by like that before he managed to speak.

"We should-"

"I know."

Silence again.

Then Sam swallowed. "Would…would it be okay if I closed the connection? I just- it's loud. And I…" He stopped, and let out a breath. "I don't know."

He didn’t want him to close the connection. It was probably the only thing keeping Bilal somewhat grounded right now, the thought that he still had somewhere for his mind to reach to when everything was falling to pieces around them. But having it open was probably doubling the amount of grief and shock floating around in Sam's head, and Bilal could barely even stomach the thought of causing Sam any more hurt than the two of them were already experiencing.

"Yeah. Yeah, that's fine." His voice sounded far away, even to himself.

Sam shifted closer, head still pressed against Bilal's shoulder.

Then Bilal felt their connection close, and everything went quiet.

Neither of them moved after that. Not until the police arrived.

it gets much happier in this AU, i swear. it's a happy AU i promise. anyways. I wrote that in a blur of hyperfocus, so I have no idea if I like it or not yet! remains to be seen!

thanks again for the ask!! :)

[aarix]

why do you remove image-ID captions when you reblog?

I'm sorry that my 20-follower personal shitposting blog, which I curate according to my own tastes for nobody's enjoyment but my own, does not meet your standards :( but if you like image captions and alt-text you should go check out my art blog :)