#You're always in my brain and I take the blame No matter who's wrong or right I'm on a one-way train headed far away but you're still on my

[moon-fics]

Movie Projections

Pairing: Bob Reynolds x Reader Summary: After finding an old projector, you decide to host movie nights in your room. Just for Bob. A/N: I wanted to write a short comfort.

"Wait, so the giant just eats metal from that guy's yard?" Bob interrupts the movie. Ever since finding a projector in the storage room, you've been having movie nights with him. You had to tweak the projector to be able to hook up to your computer, but it only took a few shocks.

You've found that pointing it up at your ceiling and lying on your bed is the most comfortable way to watch. Plus, you can be close to Bob the entire time and blame it on the small screen.

"Yes, he eats scrap metal. You're focusing on the wrong thing," You groan. Tonight, you've convinced him to watch the "Iron Giant", which you haven't seen since you were a kid. You don't remember most of the plot, but you wanted to relive your childhood for just a bit. "He's a giant robot who is friends with a child! He's like, super cool!" You point out.

"I'm not saying he isn't. I just find it weird he eats the same material he's made of," He shrugs. You roll your eyes and shush him. You can't hear the movie over his jokes, but you enjoy hearing his laugh. You try to find comedy movies to distract his brain, and oftentimes he falls asleep halfway through them.

"Listen, I'd prefer he eat metal instead of humans. That would be a bigger problem," You say. "He's just a kind robot who is judged too soon."

Bob turns his head to look at you. Half his face is pressed against the covers. You decide to return the favor by making eye contact with him. The projector gives him a twinkle in his eyes, and it makes them seem even softer. His lips are subtly turned upward, and you only see it during brighter moments of the movie.

"Do you think we could do this every night?" He asks in a soft tone. "I like being around you. I have fewer nightmares when I sleep here, and you don't tiptoe around me." He rubs his eye nervously. Even after spending so much time together he still worries about rejection.

"You can hang out here any time you want." You take his hand in yours. Physical affection is something that soothes him, but only from specific people. From the team, he enjoys hugs and being near them. With you, everything is on the table. You've cuddled, held hands, and even fallen asleep together. Anyone else outside that small circle is not as welcoming.

"You don't have to be so worried about intruding. You're welcome in my room whenever." You assure him. This warrants an approving grin.

He turns his focus back to the movie, and you didn't realize how much time had passed. The movie is almost over, and you realize why you hadn't rewatched it sooner. The Giant is blown up after a devastating reminder of his friendship with the boy.

You hear a sniffle and glance over to see tears forming in Bob's eyes. You're on high alert now and sit up to see him better. He's wiping his eyes before you can get a better look. He's aware you've caught on to him crying.

"Sorry, I just- the movie hit a bit close," He mumbles. His eyes and nose are red as tears continue to form in his eyes. He keeps swiping them away, and you know that won't stop them. "With the whole judging the giant off his appearance and then choosing who he wants to be," He chuckles through his cracking voice.

You gently take his wrists into your hands to stop him from rubbing his eyes. It forces him to look at you and realize you understand. Maybe tonight's choice wasn't the best.

"Well, I think you chose to be a better person," You hum. "No matter what you do, I will always see that."

He nods hesitantly and allows his tears to fall. There are only a few, but it's enough to calm him down. He sniffles one last time and then uses your grip on his arms to pull you down onto his chest. Without thinking twice, you wrap your arms under his shoulders to get as close as possible to him.

"You're a good person, Bob. Everyone on the team knows it, and soon the world will, too." You say against his sweater. You can smell his cologne on his sweater, and it makes your eyes feel heavy.

You let out a yawn and nuzzle your face against him to get comfortable. His hands wrap around your waist to keep you stable against him. You can hear his breathing, and it's a lullaby.

"We're definitely watching something with comedy in it tomorrow," He whispers.

"Oh, no, I agree. I don't think I can handle another movie where a character dies," You say. "Maybe we can watch 'La La Land'," You suggest. You haven't seen it yet, but from what you've had spoiled, it looks like a romance movie. Maybe it'll be more upbeat than "The Iron Giant".

"Whatever it is, I'll watch it as long as you're here," He says with a slurred speech. You can sense his body growing heavy as sleep calls to him. You slip one arm out from under him and reach for the projector. You shut it off, and the room goes dark.

---

You're sitting on your bed scrolling through movies to watch, because it turns out "La La Land" is not an uplifting story. Bob is sitting next to you with his head on your shoulder as he watches you scroll. You are on a mission to find a movie that won't shatter both your hearts.

You can sense something is off with him, but you're waiting for him to tell you first. Eventually, he pokes your thigh to get your attention. You stop scrolling and shift around to face him. With your full attention on him, his confidence has decreased.

"W-when I asked if we could do this every night, I, uh, I was kinda asking it to be more like..." He says sheepishly. "Like a date." He finishes his sentence. "I didn't know if you understood that, and by the time I was going to explain, I chickened out," His voice lowers the more he speaks.

It makes more sense that he asked such a question with romantic intent. You just assumed he was worried he'd be intruding or bothering you. His eyes flicker between you, and his hands fidget with the sheets.

"That can be arranged," You say. The moment you agree, his eyes light up like the moon. "Only if you start bringing snacks." You warn.

"Well, there goes the date idea," He fakes a sad expression as a taunt, but quickly returns to a smile. "I'll make sure to bring the snacks next time."

[yeyinde]

Brain went brrrrrrrr

Price and the new 141 member getting into an argument. Price is all like if you don't behave ill take you over my knee girl.

She's all like I fucking dare you or you'll have to catch me first or even you don't have the balls.

🫠🫠

i’ve always wanted someone who was super by the book to clash with John “i routinely tell my superiors i’m going to maim/murder/hang them” Price. this gave me the perfect opportunity to do so. 

noncon spanking. abuse of authority. power imbalance. size kink. mean, dom!Price. forced submission.

You have this way of getting under his skin. 

An impossible itch. No matter how many times he picks and prods at his flesh, you worm beneath the dermis, burrowing deep. Sitting pretty against his goddamn bones. Festering. 

Incurable. 

He turns to vice to stem the irritation. Cigars. Whiskey. His hand shoved down his trousers like he's a fuckin' boy and not a man on the wrong side of forty. 

Thinking of you—of breaking that smart mouth of yours on his cock. 

It's the way you saunter around with your head held high, balancing golden eggs on your crown, that irks him something awful. The patronising drawl when you huffily remind him that what he's doing is breaking seven, no, ten, different laws, Price. You can't just do whatever you want, there are rules—

And that's the crux of it. 

A difference of ideas. Experience. You still see the world in shades of black and white. Good and bad. Unwilling to acknowledge that the line between is saturated and blurred. A putrid muck that traps all. Bogish. 

He knew it was a mistake when they sent him your file, asked if he needed the additional help. Hostage negotiator. He's heard of you. By the fucking book. You recite passages like it's gospel, turning printed words into a knife. A terrible fit for a team that works in the pivotal no man's land you claim doesn't exist. 

Yet—

He takes you on. Brings you in. Buries his anger at your fucking gall deep in his chest where it rots. Grows. Swallows down the rage, apoplectic fury, when you undermine him at every opportunity, citing laws and regulations like it's a fucking prayer. 

A calamitous decision, he knows. Terrible. But—

Despite it all, you're good at what you do. Brilliant. A budding rose germinating in fecund soil. You'll grow into something wild, won't you? Something untamed. 

Under his hands, you'll bloom the prettiest. He knows this deep in his bones. But—

“You're breaking the rules, Captain—”

—pedantic little thing, aren't you? 

Obediently following the wrong master. 

It irks him. He's been known to step on the toes of his superior officers for less, caustic words hissing foul from between his teeth. 

But unlike them, you're worth something. Even as the moral antithesis to his utilitarian dogma, he sees your potential. How you can shape this world dangling on a brittle thread if you lay down your senseless principles and follow him. Listen to him. 

But of course, you don't. 

And he supposes he ought to have known better. It's dripping gasoline over an open flame. The sequence of events is easily premeditated, seen, when you refuse to listen to what he says (“it's against the law, Price!”), walking away from him, his team, the mission, and take matters into your own, morally righteous hands. Bringing his underhanded methods to the desk of your superior officer, demanding he be investigated for crimes. The result is a loose warning from someone in a suit several sizes too big for them, and your fury when he pulls you back, has you assigned to another mission with the 141, with himself. Preens at your glower when you march back into his office, into his hands. 

In the fallout, he has no one to blame but himself, really. Anyone could have seen this coming. But the thing about shirking his morality in favour of a better outcome—above all else—is that he doesn't have to. 

And so, he doesn't. 

No. He blames you. 

(How perfect for him, then, that there's no one on base except you and him.)

“If you think I'm not going to report you again if you do something illegal, Price, you're wrong.”

He scoffs, shaking his head at your fucking audacity. 

"Better watch that mouth of yours, Sergeant, or you won't like what happens next." 

His palm itches when you look up, offering him a slow, feline blink. Leonine eyes creasing at the corners. 

"And what is that, sir? I'm just doing my job—" it's whispered breathlessly, all faux professionalism even as jest leaks down your brow. They pinch, then. Drawing together in a mockery of confusion. "Isn't that what you wanted me to do?" 

"What is that, mm?" He mocks, arms folding over his chest. He has to breathe through his nose for a moment. Gather himself together before he does something reckless, something like— 

It's the defiant little jut of your chin that does him in. That unravels this fraying knot of control until threads slip through his fingers. Falling too fast for him to clench down on them. 

He's threatened his superiors for far less. His kin, teammates. You have no one to blame but yourself for this, really. No one at all when he pulls his hand from where it's tucked under his armpit, curling rough, worn fingers around your wrist. Pulls you close, wrenching you into his chest until your nose bumps the buckle of his vest. 

"'m'gonna take you over my fuckin' knee, is what's going to happen." 

Your swallow is a gunshot. “You—you wouldn't dare—”

He leans in close, closer still. Breath scorching over your cheek. Preening when you bare your little teeth at him. “Wanna bet on that, Sergeant?” 

It's easier than he would have expected to wrangle you over his knee, pinning you down with an arm across your lower back. The height of his chair keeps your front bent, belly pressed against his thigh. Ass seated perfectly in his lap. Precious gem. 

He hums low in his throat, teeth sinking into the butt of his cigar as he locks you tight against him. Grabbing your wrist, twisting it up behind your back. Holding steady. A warning. 

The dangerous twinge in your bone stills you. 

One wrong move and he'd snap it in half. 

This has you taking a different approach, legs falling limp over the armrest. Head dropping over the other side. Malleable in his grasp—however artificial it is.

“Price—” you breathe, winded. Panic on a spindle. “What are you—what do you think you're doing—?”

He hums, mouth tense around the cigar. Words muffled, slurred. “What I should have done a long time ago.” 

“What—hey!”

Your words pepper off into a choked scream when his other hand falls to the hem of your pants, grabbing the fabric in his fist. The shock fades into indignation. Anger. He tastes it in the air as your hips squirm, legs kicking at nothing. Furious little growls spilling from your lips as you thrash, unconcerned by the ache in your bone. 

“Better keep still, love,” he taunts, mouth curling over his teeth as he twists his hand high, higher, up the small of your back until your fingers brush the skin between your shoulder blades. Any more and he'll break it—

“I'm going to fucking—!” It ends on a whine. A whimper. The pain makes you shiver. “Fuck, fuck—stop, stop, ow, stop—!”

“Not a fan of a little pain then, mm?” 

Your breath is ragged. Paints the air in a fine mist of defeat. He has you. The only option out of this is breaking your bone, a threshold no one is willing to cross. 

Price purses his lips back around the cigar, inhaling once, thrice, before he slips his fingers out of the hem of your trousers, reaching up to take hold of the cigar. It's all so matter-of-fact. So nonchalant when he places it in the ashtray. When he brings his heavy, warm hand back to your ass, curling his fingers beneath the fabric. Pulling. Tugging. 

They come off easier than he'd expected. A harsh tug, and the cleft of your ass is revealed. Plush skin curving enticingly as he rips them down to mid-thigh—panties and all. 

The shock fades back into indignation. You hiss something foul under your breath that makes him huff out a chuckle. 

“Not really in the position for that, are you, love?” 

“Shut up—”

He likes the way you sound like this. Feral. Furious. There's ash in your throat. It blots soot around each word, giving them weight. Gone is the woman who barged into his office, sniffing like you smelled something foul. Backing him into a corner. Sputtering in his face about rules. Regulation. 

Now you're bare-assed, panting, in his lap. Small little fawn in the maw of a bear. But oh, do you fight back—

Teeth bared, indignation bleeding into embarrassment, blotting pink in the whites of your eyes.

The sight is hewn into his hindbrain. 

“Look at you,” he purrs, petting your cheeks. “Been beggin’ to be bent over my knee since you got here, haven't you?” 

“Begging? Don't be—ahh!”

He brings his hand down with a small huff, eyes glued to your flesh. Watching it shake under his hand. The width of one swallowing up an entire cheek. So big is he that you're nearly made infinitesimal in his clutch. The thought makes him groan.

You squirm more in shock than discomfort. Head craning over your shoulder, eyes misting over with tears. Glaring at him. 

“What the fuck, Price!”

He strokes your skin, feeling the heat of your flesh bleed through his palm. Resilient little thing, aren't you? He huffs again, blood buzzing. Electric. There's a kindling fire in his guts. Embers sparking, catching. 

He can't deny how badly he's been wanting to have you like this. Craving your tears, your agony, your submission.

“Count,” he barks out, rough. Abrasive. “You're getting ten. Count ‘em for me, and if you miss one, I'm adding two more.”

“You're crazy, you're—!”

His hand comes down again. The impact shakes the fat of your ass. The strike makes you yowl, thrashing to get away. You don't get very far, still trapped in his hold. The threat of a broken bone keeps you from lashing out too wildly, and all you can really do is sit in his lap, and take it—

The notion has him groaning low in his throat. Something wicked spooling in his veins. Wanting. The sight of you heaving, bare-assed, and begging for mercy unleashes something inside of him. Something primal. Starving. 

Price takes a breath to steady himself, head buzzing. Heart pounding. It feels like the euphoria of nicotine—all bliss, sedation. Ease. 

Cathartic. 

“I said count,” he rasps, words cinder in his chest. Smoke. Dragged up from that burning pyre in his belly. Nocuous, hungry. “That's an order, Sergeant.” 

His hand is scorching against your skin. Thoughts turning over themselves as you hiccup in his lap. So pretty, he thinks, eyes flitting over to you. Taking in the sight of your shock, your denial. It tastes like fine wine on his tongue. Heady. 

“Here comes one—”

“One?”

“I told you, didn't I?” His nail rakes across your skin, cruel. Mean. Something preens when you gasp. Your pain perfuming the air. “M’addin’ two more if you don't count. Thought your speciality was listenin’?”

You scowl, twisting back to level him with an awful sneer. “Oh, fuck you—!”

His hand comes down again, harder this time. Vicious. The scream is tangled in your throat, gagged. He feels pleasure—dark and ugly—bloom in his chest, dripping, liquid, down the length of his spine. The twist of agony on your face is beatific. 

“Not gonna count?” He taunts, pinching your inflamed flesh between his thumb and forefinger. “We're gonna be here all day at this rate, love.”

He leans down, broad chest curling over the small of your back, hand cupped possessively over your cheeks. “But maybe you want that, mm? Maybe all this, mhm, insubordination has just been for show. You wanted this. Wanted to be taken over my knee—”

“You're wrong. I haven't—” it tapers off into a squeak when he pinches your flesh again. 

Price pulls back, breathes shallowly through his nose. 

“You and that smart fuckin' mouth. Told you it was gonna get you in trouble—”

He doesn't wait. His hand rears, and comes down with a loud smack that echoes in the sparse office he has you trapped inside. Your howl races alongside it, curling up the walls. Beautiful in all its agony. 

“Christ—” it's a dagger to his resolve. You sound so fucking good howling like this. Oscillating between feral anger and pain, hissing vitriol between clenched teeth. Choking on sobs. 

The first few are experimental. Testing the waters. Feeling. You're combative during it all. Fighting. Screaming. Each strike is uncounted, echoed only with a plea for help. One he knows won't come—

The only person on base is his Lieutenant. Ghost knows better than to barge in on his affairs. 

“No one's comin’, love,” he grunts, sweat beading along his hairline, dripping down his temple. The room heats along with the blood in his veins, stifling and oppressive. He reinforces each hit with more strength, increasing the tempo until you're screaming on his lap, begging for mercy, mercy, please, please, Price stop, stop—

Your skin raises with each new strike. Swelling. Becoming inflamed. The perfect imprint of his handprint sits on each cheek, edges intumescent. The globes shake, shuddering deliciously under each hit. 

He gets to eleven before you break. Tears streaming down your face, voice a threadbare whisper. Hoarse from screaming. 

His hand rains down, slaps your left cheek so hard it stings his hand. Burns. You whimper. Mewling. Squirming on his lap, and then—

“O–one—”

He grunts, feels himself thicken in his trousers. “Good girl.” 

You shudder, body breaking out in goosebumps. “Price—”

“Ah, ah, love. You're not allowed to speak unless you're counting.”

He hits you again, cock throbbing when you tense up, sniffling. Grinding out a soft two between trembling lips. 

You don't break the way he wants you to. There's a glare on your face despite the tears, the sniffles. A defiance that burns over the bridge of your nose. 

But that's fine. He has eight more strikes to ruin you, doesn't he? 

He sets to it with a low moan, your pelvis pressing taut to his tumid cock, the friction raging in his guts. 

But that, he finds, isn't really the point. No. The pleasure, the arousal, is secondary to the way you fall to pieces at his hand. Flesh stinging his palm with each loud smack that rings out sharply in the room. Uneven breaths. Shuddering little ah-ah-ahs that tumble out through clenched teeth. 

It's addictive, this. Therapeutic. 

There's static in his head. White noise. It renders everything else mute. Moot. Molasses drips down, thick and entrenching, congealing over every churning thought in the back of his head. There's a sense of peace, ease, he hasn't felt in years. In decades. 

He feels his belly knot each time your ass jiggles, skin bulging up from the trauma of being hit so harshly. Chafed under his palm. Welts forming in the shape of his hand. A tattoo you'll have for weeks when he's through with you. Aching each time you try to sit. And fuck—

You'll think of him. Of this. Being taken over his goddamn knee like the bad fucking girl you are. Broken in over his lap. Helpless. Submissive. 

The whimpers fade, replaced with shallow hiccups. Your throat is torn. Raw, ruined, by your screams, yowls. Each rasping whine sends jolts of pleasure down his spine. Liquid want molten in his marrow. 

“S–seven, nngh—”

The moan slips out—scorched, bleached—and drills deep into his loins. 

He peels his gaze away from your blistered skin, glancing at your face, but you duck from his view. Hide. Dropping your head over the armrest. Evading him. 

It's new, this. This meekness. 

You were so combative, so feral before. His gaze rakes down the expanse of your spine, over the curve of your cheeks, before settling, hot and heavy, at the crease where your thigh meets your pelvis. You squirm in his lap, thighs sliding together. Rubbing. It's no different from before when he'd spank you, but—

He catches it. 

It glints in the soft light when you move, and he feels something dark, ruinous, curl in the tar-stained fibrils of his chest. Congealing in the crevasses. Hardening. 

Price flicks his tongue out, swiping over his lower lip. The bristles of his beard graze the soft flesh, prickling across it. His throat is suddenly dry. Parched. 

His hand comes down again, notably softer than the other hits he subjected you to. Almost—

Tender. 

This isn't meant to hurt. Not this one. 

He strokes his finger over your skin, cock throbbing with the rasping gasp that spills—a twisted amalgamation of pain, skin still smarting, burning to the touch, and—

His lashes flutter. Nostrils flaring. 

Your slick, wet, between your inner thighs. 

He slides his hand down, down, until your ass cheek is cupped in the bracket of his thumb and forefinger. Nestled tight. A perfect fit. The sight of your skin—soft, so soft—against his bearish, hirsute paw is sickeningly addictive. He grunts, pressing his thumb into the crease between your cheek and thigh. 

“P–Price—”

And then he pulls, moaning deep in his chest as he peels the fat of your ass away, unveiling your cunt to his rapacious gaze. Fuck—

“What’s this?” He taunts, breathless. Pinched. You squirm, trying to press your thighs together. Hiding your pussy from his scorching stare. He doesn't let you. “Gettin’ off on me spankin’ your arse?” 

“N–no, I'm—”

He pushes his thumb up, sliding it over your skin. Gathers your slick on the tip. “Don't lie to me, mm. You're fuckin' soaked.”

The air is punched from his lungs. Spills out in a wretched grunt. In the vacuum, something grows. Knots. Festering inside his chest. Animalistic. Primal. There's an itch in the back of his head. 

He lets go of your arm, knows you won't run. Won't try to escape. No. 

You're a good girl, aren't you? One who does what they're told. Follows orders. It tangles in the soporific slurry of his head, pitching a bivouac of need when you bring your arm down, curling it through the gap of the armrest, holding tight. 

Bracing yourself. 

His hum breaks in his throat. He drags his hand away from your cunt, reaching for the snuffed cigar idling in the ashtray. There's a fever in his veins. It makes his hand tremble. Shake. He needs the blunted drag of nicotine to quench this heady anticipation blooming in his guts. A brumous storm gyring inside him, an incipient maelstrom of want thickening. Intensifying. Threatening to spill over. 

He needs something to steady himself before he tears into you like a beast—

You cock your head over your shoulder, staring at him with eyes drenched in midnight ink. There's a flicker across your tear-stained expression. Something coy. Feline. Leonine. 

There's nothing said. Nothing needs to be. He finds what he's looking for in the fracture of your mien, and scoffs under his breath at your sheer gall. Little fuckin' minx. 

Tobacco proves to be a paltry facsimile when he draws in a bursting mouthful. The restive glow of it dulled under the adrenaline coursing through his veins, heady. Syrupy. A roaring deluge of anticipation broiling in the balmy air, crackling around him like a storm cresting over the horizon. Ozone saturates in the thickening atmosphere. 

Something will break. Shatter. 

He tenses, waiting for the first stormcloud to breach, and drops his hand back to your tender ass. Stroking over the raised welts just to make you gasp. Your hips flex under the shocks of pain riveting down your spine, undulating in his lap. Pitched perfectly over his cock. 

His breath shudders through a needlepoint. The friction is electric. 

In petty retaliation—and just to see you squirm—he trails his knuckles over your heated skin, luxuriating in the way you shiver. Head falling back down over the armrest, beautifully alluring in your vulpine submission. His fingers dip between the cleft of your cheeks, feeling the slickness sticking to your soft, sensitive skin. Soaked between your thighs. Wretched girl. 

His index and middle finger slide over your slit, parting your folds. He feels the small pulses of your drenched hole against his flesh when he slides over it with the press of his fingers. Eager little thing.  

He hums under his breath at the sight of his hand seated across your hand, fingers shoved between the globes of your smarting ass. Soft and tender to worn and gnarled. The cropping of dark hair over his knuckles, his hand, against your bare skin is obscene. The picture of sin with your stricken flesh and his thick veins. The contrast curdled in the back of his head, morphing into something ugly and wanting. 

Idly, he thinks of making you bounce your sore ass on his lap later, your pussy swallowing up his fat cock. Taking it all the way to the root. Over and over again. Breaking you on it until you're begging for mercy, until this little attitude of yours is crushed between his teeth. 

Slick gathers against the rough pads of his fingers, drenching them. The hair on his knuckles is matted down, wet with your arousal. Naughty girl. He'll make you pay for that. 

And for the puddle seeping into his trousers. 

You mewl when he slips, sliding over your clit. The noise spilling molten over your lips, bludgeoning into his loins. 

He drags in another mouthful of smoke. Lets it rot between his teeth as he drops the cigar into the ashtray once more, attention riveting to the slip-slide of your slick thighs rubbing together for friction against your aching clit. Cunt pulsing needily against his hand. 

You haven't learned a damn thing at all, have you? 

Smoke funnels out of his nostrils when he growls. “Spoiled, aren't you? Need to be taught a lesson in respect.” 

“I, ah, am respectful, Captain—” 

He sucks in a breath between clenched teeth. This lippiness of yours grates on his nerves. He wants you begging for mercy, limp in his hold. Pretty doll. Waiting obediently for him to put you back together again. Soft and submissive at his heel. 

“Got three more to go, love.” You shiver when he strokes over your ass. Petting gently with wet, tacky fingers. “If you're a good girl and take it for me, I'll play with your pretty cunt, mm. You'd like that, wouldn't you?” 

Price brings his hand down, grunting when you moan out his name. Sharp and needy. Your plaintive posturing is a spark inside a tinderbox. 

“E–eight.” 

The next one is harder, sharper. The force twinges his joints. Rattles through his bone. 

It's unexpected, and the pain makes you yowl, body drawing tight like a bow. There's no pleasure when it's like that. No friction against your cunt. It's just—

“Price—!” You yelp, shrill and distressed. The lead up to this has been child's play. A soft hand to tender a nervous mare. 

His old man taught him to never strike with the whip first but to wean them slowly. 

He waits, humming mockingly to your pettering whimpers as you heave, tremulous, into the air. Shuddering in his grasp at the aftershocks of agony rippling through your body. 

Waits. Waits. And—

“Ah, ah,” he tuts, cooing low and condescending when you gasp, craning your neck to level him with an imploring, pleading stare as you stammer out a frenetic nine in a breathless rush. Tears soak your lashline, clumping them together when you blink through another deluge pooling against the rim. Your lip wobbles. The stream breaks, spilling over. Fresh tears run down your wet, sticky cheeks. 

There's real panic in the whites of your eyes now. That haughty, pedant gleam buried under pyretic desperation. Gone is the coy twist to your lips. The wily little bloom of amusement in your gaze. 

Aw, poor thing. But—

Too late. “You didn't count. You know what that means, love.” 

That knot in his chest unfurls, and leaks acid into his lungs. This want is corrosive. A poison. The sob breaks through your chest. The first thunderclap. He relishes in it. Leans back in his chair to bask in the potency of your unmaking. 

“Good girl,” he husks out, burning lungs spewing black smoke into the air. “Just ten more now, love. Know you can take it for me, can't you?”

Pretty thing. He'll have that haughty attitude snuffed out before the end of the night. Have you begging for his touch, his cock, him, before the sun draws across the horizon. 

Your ruination at his hand. The thought strokes along the kindling smouldering inside of his chest. Burning away at the pyre he's been building since the day he met you. When you looked up at him, pretty in your scorn, and disobeyed his command. Undermined him. So righteous in your fury. A burgeoning flame he wanted nothing more than to snuff out under his heel, and now—

Wide, wet eyes plead with him. “Please, Price. Please, please. I'll be good—I promise I'll be good, sir—”

—ash in the palm of his hand. 

He strokes over your searing flesh, humming softly under his breath. “I know you will, pretty girl—” basks in the hiccup of relief you let out, lets it glue in his ears, echoing over and over again. So sweet. 

He lets your relief live for a moment. Take its first breath of air through aching lungs—

“But I told you, didn't I? That I'd take you over my knee.” Price pats his hand over your cheek, shushing you when you startle, squirming on his lap. 

“Now. Be a good girl and count for me, mm?”

[poisonsage808]

strange love

John Munch x Stripper!Reader

they think i’m insane, they think my lover is strange

• It really shouldn’t have panned out in his favor, considering he was an asshole on your first date.

"So what do you do?" He asked, struggling to keep boredom from his tone. He hates small talk.

"I'm an entertainer," your hands fidget nervously, "of sorts."

"Well, as long as you're not a stripper." He chuckles.

You, of course, do not.

• To his continued utter perplexity, the date concluded without you throwing insults or silverware at him. You suffered each and every question that you said no one had bothered to ask you before. The thought of dates prior ending abruptly after you'd surrendered the information, you alone with the check, made him more upset than you!

"The bad ones weed themselves out, right?" You joked bitterly, shrugging like you were unfazed but he saw the bleeding heart on your sleeve, "Anyways, I can't really blame them."

John tilts his head, "Why?"

"Would you wanna date someone you knew was ogled nightly by strangers, maybe a coworker or business partner? Everyone says it doesn't bother them until it does."

"That bothers you," he states like the fact that it is, "so why don't you stop? Do something else?"

Pausing while lifting a glass to your lips, you sit straighter and send a smile right to his heart, "You should know why; you're in the same boat as me, it's just named something else. Why don't you stop being a detective even though it's detrimental to your love life, hm? Because we don't believe we should live our lives for anyone other than ourselves."

• Your occupation didn't bother him half as much as his delusions did. He always attracted the wrong type of women, four failed marriages and a looong string of exes can attest to the fact, what business did he have dating a stripper thinking it would lead to what he really wanted? He didn't need another 'I told you so' from the universe

• He went home, alone, denying your comparison because it couldn't possibly be even remotely similar. Your words haunt him the entirety of the next day and later he calls to ask you out again, purely intending on picking your brain and, ideally, prove you wrong. He ends up stepping deeper into the trap you swore you didn't lay, so, maybe, there was a chance he willingly entered and couldn't bring himself to leave

• He’s an old fashioned man, he doesn’t fully get it. Like most, he wants to “save” you and get you out of this line of work. He tries to understand though and therein lies the difference. John still makes jokes about it, however knowledgeable he may be now, he feeds into it every time you complain about work and say you’re quitting,

“Oh no,” he says flatly, dropping his book and turning his attention to you. “Want me to check the classifieds for you? Or I have a buddy in hotel management that needs help manning the front desk, you can stand there and look pretty instead.”

“Don’t be a dick, babe.” You grin despite your irritation.

“I just called you pretty, how am I being a dick?”

• That's not to say you two don't have your fair share of arguments about your job— or his for that matter. There are times where your schedules don't line up or the stress of work gets to you both, resulting in a fight. It shocks him and you that neither of you takes the opportunity to cut losses and leave. It doesn't matter who started what, it always ends with a soft gesture that can only mean no one's going anywhere

• In the past, you’ve both been scorched badly enough to make you wary of a sudden flame. John’s (mostly) open and honest about everything on his mind but god forbid you ask him what his favorite color is. He’s slow to let you in all the way but when you manage to get there, close the door behind you because he doesn’t want out

• Fashion is a surprising forte of his and, wow, does he love shoes! Broke a heel? He has a shoe repair man that knows him by name. You need new pumps? He’ll come with you, have you test them out, holds your hand and says ‘give us a little twirl’. Don’t forget he’s still John Munch, he’ll let you know if he thinks a pair is ugly

“You look ravishing, sweetheart, an absolute dream… if you buy those abominations on your feet that dare call themselves as stilettos, I might accidentally throw them off the Empire State Building, though.”

• Far would it be from John to control your every move, he almost never even thinks of asking but sometimes the fear is unmanageable. John’s job is hard enough as it is only now he walks around seeing your face in every victim, terrified one day they’ll pull back the white sheet and that worry will become a reality. So can you blame him if he holds on too tight? If he asks you to call in sick because he has a bad feeling or demands you stay home because a freak is out there killing strippers? You try not to.

“Don’t argue with me on this, please, just lock the door and don’t answer it for anyone that’s not me. Please.”

• Being apart for days at a time makes phone calls very important… only John hates talking on the phone, keeping his replies shortened to “yeah” and “mhm”. Sometimes you can hear someone in the background and will take the conversation in a dirty direction to get him riled up. Other times you know the call is coming to an end and quickly say,

“I miss you, handsome.”

His voice quiets and turns impossibly soft, “I miss you too, beautiful.”

Laughter erupts close by him, the familiar voices of his infamous squad teasing him. You can’t help but grin as the line goes dead, feeling victorious that you won over the possibility of ridicule.

• Because he does miss you, terribly. You make him throw caution to the wind, you turn his brain to slush and have him forget how to tell himself no. He thought he got rid of this bad habit where he rushed in too quickly— then he asked you to move in with him. It was unceremonious and obviously not thought out, but you still said yes. Now, even though your schedules aren’t always on your sides, you two can at least take comfort in knowing the other will be coming home at some point

~

“Twelve bucks? I’m not paying twelve bucks for a spoonful of yuppie punch– I’d punch a yuppie for free, though. How the hell did these people get their liquor license? This is robbery.”

You’d know that sarcastic voice anywhere.

In a club packed like sardines and music blaring like a morning alarm– terrible combination, really– he shouldn’t have heard you the same way you shouldn’t have heard him. Still, you snorted, an unattractive sound, that you tried to mask with your hand. The second you did, he couldn’t take his eyes off you and was struggling to maintain a passive expression. You were willing to bet that if you went to the back and checked your phone there would be an SOS text from your boyfriend, trying to give you a heads up.

He looks pleased as punch to have caught you.

“Sounds like someone agrees with me.”

“Yeah right, you probably paid her to laugh.”

You turned with a shy grin, debating how you wanted to play this scene. Behind the darkened lenses of his glasses you could sense John studying you, wondering the same thing.

“So which is it, gorgeous, do you agree with me or did money jump out of my wallet and into your hand?”

You feel your cheeks warm while you attempt to stifle a laugh at his compliment. Hot and sexy you heard every day but the rare bouquet of praise John gave you was consistently refreshing, and he was a walking dictionary so the compliments were endless. His partner’s eyes go wide at your reaction. You’ve never met any of the detectives he worked with but from John’s stories, you gather it’s Fin.

“I’d report my boss for theft but that might make me a hypocrite.” Sweeping over your hips, you gesture to your outfit. Or lack thereof, your favorite piece was two zippers away from leaving you fully naked.

That gets a smirk out of him, “I dunno about that. You don’t look like a rip-off to me.”

You dare to step closer, wasps of coffee and leather hit your nose. Clearly enjoying the attention, John angled himself to block you from Fin and placed a hand on his hip. Like a bird, he preened when you took his tie in your hands, standing straighter and puffing out his chest. You lowered your voice and he chased after it, allowing you to gently pull the silk.

“You here for business or pleasure, handsome?”

“I’m—” You wouldn’t find out what he was going to say, there was a loud, fake cough behind him. John sighs, mouth pressed into a straight line and leaning back slightly, “Detective John Munch, a—”

“–And I’m Detective Tutuola. We need to speak to this boss of yours.” His partner chimed in, shoving his way back into view. The two shared a private conversation with their eyes that left them both glaring.

Jack, the bartender, set a tray with two martini glasses on the counter and whistled for your attention. Reluctantly, you allowed John’s tie to slip entirely from your fingers to grab the tray.

“Follow me.”

It wasn’t an offer. Taking John’s hand you began walking backwards, leading them to a booth. His fingers link with yours like it’s the most natural action in the world, leaving you on top of it. You had to bite your lip to contain your excitement.

“You’re not worried you’re gonna break an ankle?” He asks too seriously, quirking a worried brow at you.

“Haven’t yet.” Your reply isn’t reassuring him in the least. “Hey if I have to look for a new job you’d tell me, right?”

“Well I’ve only been asking you to for the past two years. Will me arresting your boss actually make you quit? I’ll feel really stupid if that’s all I had to do to keep you to myself.” He teases, winks, then turns your wrist over to place a delicate kiss to your knuckles.

John releases you to slide into the booth beside his partner, looking damn pleased with himself. Staring with narrowed eyes and a befuddled frown, Fin finally speaks his mind.

“…I’m missin’ something.”

“Gee, you’re quick today. Tutuola, meet my girlfriend. Ethereal light of my life, this is the infamous Fin.”

“How do you do?”

To you, the man smiles kindly, “Just fine, thanks, lovely to meet you. One second—“ The slap he gives John’s arm, however, is audibly loud and full of petty anger. “You have a woman!? And you never told me!? That’s messed up, Munch, I’m your partner.”

“First of all, ow. You can’t just hit people because you’re mad at them, didn’t they teach you this in grade school!? Keep your hands to yourself, you acrimonious oaf. Secondly, I did tell you— it’s not my fault you thought I was kidding. Thirdly, I told her about you which, if you think about it, is arguably more important.”

John leans back when he runs out of hot air, dramatically rubbing his arm. Already accustomed to your comforting weight around his shoulders, he doesn’t blink when you hug his neck in front of his partner.

“He says you’re the best partner he’s ever had.”

“I did pay her to say that.”

“Yeah, I bet you did.” Fin winks, like you’re sharing a secret, “I’ll keep his bony ass safe for you, mama.”

Tapping your arm, John turns his head so he doesn’t have to yell over the music anymore, “We really do need to talk to your boss now, sweetheart.”

"Duty calls, you answer." You hum, sliding your arms off him to release him from your embrace, "I'll get her for you. See you tonight, handsome."

Mindful of your lipstick, you lean in to ghost a kiss to his cheek but he discards your caution and steals a proper, quick peck. John grins at your surprise, feasting on it. Snickering, you playfully swat his arm before walking away. You can feel his reluctant eyes struggle to let you go. Fin smirks and jostles his partner as you depart, much to his provocation.

"You dog!"

Munch waits a moment to wipe the mark from his lips, grinning at your frame as it fades away.

"Woof."

[the-raindeer-king]

(Not super confident writing for Cod Ghosts, but this idea has been haunting me for months. For a while, I kept seeing posts about how Keegan is a weirdo, and like imagine if he had a partner who was the walking definition of "match their freak")

CW: mentions of drinking, gn! but reader is described as pretty

None of the Ghosts believed Keegan whenever he mentioned the pretty thing he's got waiting at home. When he mentions his sweetheart, the others always makes jokes like "your partner in Canada, right".

You can't really blame them for thinking he's lying. Keegan is kind of a weirdo. It's like there's no filter between his brain and his mouth anymore, and on more than one occasion, he's spoken his intrusive thoughts aloud.

So, when they finally have a rare moment of downtime, Keegan convinces you to join the team for drinks. They all stare as you two approach, absolutely gob smacked that Keegan wasn't making you up.

Maybe you're a little overdressed, but it's so rare for Keegan to be home anymore, and it's even more rare that you get the chance to go out anymore. On top of that, you're meeting the most important people in his life right now. First impressions matter, and you want to make a good one. Er, well, as good as you can.

Things start off well, just casual conversation as the other Ghosts are dying to know more about you. None of them can believe such a pretty, and awfully normal, person like yourself is with Keegan. An assumption that's quickly proven wrong.

There's a lull in the conversation, one that Keegan easily fills asking, "Think I could break this glass with my bare hands?"

Simultaneously, all the Ghosts turn to look at you, waiting to see how you handle Keegan and his lack of a filter.

"I mean, sure, but then you'd have to eat the glass. Can't be leaving a mess behind," you reply casually,

"Is this the good glass, or the bad glass?" Keegan continues, sliding his pint towards you.

You take the cup, sliding your finger across the rim for a moment. Taking a sip of his drink, you scrunch your face up in disgust, sliding the drink back to him. "Good glass, bad drink. So I won't be helping you eat it."

Keegan sighs sadly, nodding his head in agreement. The beer at this particular bar does suck.

The rest of the Ghosts stare at you in a mix of surprise and disappoint. Not disappointed in you, but in themselves, for thinking that Keegan's partner wouldn't be as weird as him.

[chzrrycherry]

I'll always defend you

˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚

Writing type : romance / sad (beginning)

Pairing : Mammon x GN Reader (they)

Relationship with the reader : friends, crush on each other (especially Mammon on the reader)

Intimate level (0 = not intimate ; 10 = really intimate) : 4/10

Character(s) mentionned : the demons brothers, Luke, Barbatos

Warning : Bit of harassment from Belphie and Satan, a bit suggestive

Type : fluff / a bit suggestive

˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚

You're studying in the library of the House of Lamentation. Satan's reading in his corner, Belphie's sleeping by your side. As you study in silence, Mammon comes up behind you. He puts his hands on your shoulders and looks up at you to see a notebook covered in your handwriting.

"Whatcha doin' ?

- I'm studying for the next exam. Want to join me ?

His eyes look at you as if you had just said the most improbable thing in the world.

- No way, it looks borin'. Don't you wanna go out on the town instead ?

- Stop bothering them, says Satan. You should do the same and study. Seeing your catastrophic grades, Lucifer will deprive you of your credit card for sure.

Mammon frown at his Goldie's name.

- Don't talk about my dear Goldie ! No one's gonna take me away from ya darlin' !

Satan sighs then looks at you. By the look on his face, he doesn't seems surprised by the idiocy of his elder. Concerned, you watch Mammon for a moment.

- Mammon, are you struggling in class ?

- Of course not ! The Great Mammon can't afford to be bad in class ! I'm good ! I just don't want to show my true abilities !

Belphie so far silent, takes part in the conversation by yawning.

- He's lying. His grades don't exceed the average of three quarters of the subjects.

Mammon interposes, trying to defend himself in front of your interrogating eyes.

-  Huh wrong ! Plus what does it matter if I sucks or not ?!

Satan closes his book, making you jump. An argument ensues between the three brothers, opposing Mammon, Satan and Belphie.

- Lucifer yells at us after every exam because of you !

- You're just stupid... Who can blame you for that ? yawns Belphie, annoyed by all that conversation.

- Oi where's the respect to your older, huh !?

Satan giggles, really determined to go after Mammon.

- It flew away like your brain.

- I ain't stupid !

- You’re not doing anything to prove otherwise.

You see Mammon clenching his fists, gritting his teeth in anger. It’s not the first time they’ve been mean to him. But this time, they’re going too far. 

- Only a miracle would allow you to get good grades, says Satan.

- Are you done pushin' me down !? You're not better than me !

- At least I'm above average... answers the Avatar of Sloth.

- Enough ! You two, stop being mean to him ! What's wrong with you ?! you scream, really upset.

You get up and take Mammon's hand, who instantly blushes.

- O-Oi w-what are ya doin' !?

- I'll help you. Let's revise together ! Okay ?

- He's a hopeless case. Drop it Mc, adds Satan.

You put your hands on Mammon's cheeks, who faces you, amazed. Your eyes stare at his for a second.

- Don't listen to them. Are you okay with me helping you ?

He looks away, embarrassed. You feel your heart clenching at this sight. You know that his brothers have done everything to bring him down in front of you. Yet, that’s not what you remember from this argument.

- I really want to help you, not because you need it... I know you, I know what you're able to do. But because I hate how your brothers are acting towards you.

- It's just the truth Mc, continues Satan.

Angry, Mammon looks at you again, a new spark in the eyes.

- Fine. I accept just because it's ya who wants it... But don't expect a miracle, Mc !

Just to remind you his presence, Belphie admits that he'd need your help as well.

- You don't need it. You're already above average, aren't you ? So you don't need me, Belphie.

He begins to sulk as you grab Mammon's hand to leave the library. His hand clenches yours by reflex, even if he remains puzzled by your anger.

- W-Wait where are we goin' !? Why are ya angry ?

- I told you... I don't like the way your brothers treat you ! I know you're capable of much more than they think ! I'll prove it to them.

His hand tightens more on yours a moment. But the second after, Mammon stops walking, gradually letting go of your hand.

- So that's what you're worried about ? You shouldn't... I'm used to this.

His usually cool and cheerful tone of voice becomes sad. You look at him, affected by this change.

- From now on, I'll defend you. I should have done it a long time ago.

- D-Don't say stuff like that ! I don't need you to defend me ! You're too nice, it's goin' to play tricks on ya, for real Mc !

- All I care right now is you. I saw your look... I felt your wound...

Strangely, Mammon seems to soften, touched by your words. He didn't think you'd be concerned at that point. It’s the first time that someone doesn't accuse him without knowing, or understand. You sincerely care about him. And this feeling he feels... It's nice... However, his wound is far from being healed.

- Of course you are ! I'm the Great Mammon after all... he sighs, as if he realizes that this isn't the time to try his usual speech. Just... Mc, please drop it. Satan told you to.

- What ? Say that again ?

- Ya heard me ! As long as you believe in me, that’s enough for me. The rest doesn't matter. The Great Mammon... I mean- I’m not hurt by the words of my stupid brothers. Got it ? No need to worry for me-

- No way I'm going to let you down, got it ?

His hand hesitates and slips awkwardly into yours. This simple, instinctive movement makes both of your hearts beat. His skin is warm and soft against yours. And this feeling always intoxicates you, as when sometimes you hold him in your arms. Then without asking a question, you bring your body closer to his to hug him and whisper a few words. Your heart is beating even faster this way. Is it the adrenaline of the moment ? Or anger ? Perhaps a misunderstanding about his reaction ?

- You can be hurt, Mammon. No one will blame you.

By reflex, he wraps his arms around you and pushes his face into the hollow of your neck, ashamed. This is the first time that Mammon has been so vulnerable to you. This is the first time he has spoken openly about how he feels when his brothers are mean to him.

- Mc... he sniffs, tears are clearly running on your shoulder. How can ya stand there and tell me all this when my brothers are right !? Why do you believe in me when no one else does ? I don’t understand you... Don't you think I'm just good for nothing...?

Your heart is broken, understanding his distress. How can he devalue himself so much ? You know that his brothers love him and love to annoy him every day. But don't they realize that this affects Mammon sincerely ? His tough facade just collapsed. You have a part of the real Mammon facing you.

- You're so much more than that. You have a big heart, an overflowing imagination that knows how to make me laugh and an incredible kindness even when you try to act tough ! That's all I love about you. There's so much more than that too...

-Y'know... I can't explain myself on that... I-I... I feel so good with you... Can we stay like this... a little longer ? I need it...

- Sure...

The minutes pass while you are in each other’s arms. His heart beats against you, gradually returning to a normal rhythm. After long minutes like this, you decide to go to his room to study away from the mockery of his brothers. Mammon seems to really want to study for once. He sits down on his bed and opens his books.

- So... Where do we start ?

- We’ll start with the home economics lesson. For curses and hexes, Barbatos could help us, I guess. And to conclude, Solomon will be our teacher with the magic potions class. We were supposed to study just him and I but it don’t matter that if we're three in the end.

He grimaced in the name of Solomon.

- Man it sounds like something tirin' !

- It'll be fine ! It's just about concentration. You already know a lot. You just have problems with concentration and motivation. I believe in you, Mammon. So I had an idea to help you ! There'll be a reward if you pass the exams.

- Like for real ? A reward ?! Okay, maybe I don't need to think twice about it ! I accept only because there's a reward ! And because of you, of course...

Everything is going as planned and during several days, the support classes have been going smoothly.  Mammon seems to be improving. He's even starting to like it. The exams are approaching and finally the big day arrives.

- Mc ! Mc ! Look, look ! You're impressed by my grade, huh ?!

Mammon puts the sheet in front of your eyes, excited to show you his grade. The results are in and everyone is surprised at Mammon's good grades.

- I knew it ! I'm proud of you, Mam ! I knew you could do it !

- Our efforts have finally paid off. How delighted I am. It's thanks to you Mc. I’m sure the Young Master will be delighted to hear that too.

- You and Solomon did a very good job. Thank you Barbatos.

Satan takes the paper and examines it in detail.

- Wow, you didn't cheat to get this grade ? says Levi when is looking carefully at the paper, a bit suspicious.

- No ! I worked hard to succeed !

- I can't believe it. It's possible for him to have this grade ?! Asmo exclaims.

- Well... Mc really succeeded their plan. They is incredible, admits Belphie.

- This is new to you. Are you sick Mammon ? Asmo continues.

- Is it so hard for you to admit that I can be good at exams !?

- Yes, all his brothers except Beel acquiesce in heart.

- Uh, shaddup !

- I'm very happy for you, Beel munches. And then we won't have to get yelled at by Lucifer ! That's good news ! he munches again.

- It's true ! Lucifer couldn't be mad at us ! Thank you Mammon for getting smart ! Asmo laughs.

- Oi ! Don't insult your older brother !

- It's hard to believe it, but Mammon really worked to get there. I don't know what motivated him but I guess Mc is behind it, Solomon adds.

- I told you I won't abandon him. I have only supported him. But I think that now, two people have to apologize to him. Satan, Belphie ?

- Right ! Ya owe apologize ! I'm listening ! Do what Mc said !

- It's hard to say it, but I'm sorry. I was wrong to consider you like an idiot with no brains, admits Belphie.

- I guess I was wrong to think you'd never pass your exams. I'm sorry Mammon.

- But to be honest, I'm always curious, how you got him to study ? Belphie notes.

- Yes, it's suspicious, says the Avatar of Wrath.

- So, Mc ?

- I'm curious too.

Lucifer, Solomon and the rest of the group are looking at you, curious to hear your answer.

- They promised me a reward if I got above average.

Asmo, barely surprised, looks at you with a look full of questions.

- Interesting. What kind of reward ?

- I... Actually I didn't think about it.

Your eyes go through the eyes of others. You simply answer.

- What would please him will be his reward.

Mammon blushes and looks away so he doesn’t cross your eyes. The next second, you understand your mistake. You should have discussed it before...

- Oh~ Can I have a reward too for my good grade ? It'll be fun ! Asmo asks.

- Stop now Asmo, orders Lucifer when he understands how it'll end.

- Booooring. You're not funny Lucifer.

- I understand better his sudden desire to study classes, Solomon smiles too.

- Yeah. He just wanted the reward, Belphie confirms.

- We don’t care what motivated him, the main thing is that it worked ! No ? you smile, a bit embarassed.

- So... Currently I can ask all I want, huh? Are ya sure, Mc ?

- W-Well yes ! But I beg you have mercy on my bank account !

His eyes soften in the face of your concern for your money. Actually, he hadn't even thought about this eventuality. He thinks for himself : she's really cute...

- Well, let me think...

- You know Mc, I should deserve a reward too. After all, I had always good grades, says Satan.

Lucifer glares at him.

- Don't be jealous. Let Mammon shine for once.

Mammon clears his voice before giving the content of his reward. His cheeks become red and his eyes barely stay on yours.

- You would agree if... if- ugh, it's too embarrassing ! I can't ask you that ! Anyway ! The Great Mammon don't need a reward to appear smart !

- Normies are hopeless, sighs Levi.

- I can take your place if you want. I know exactly what to ask to Mc, continues Belphie.

- Nuh-huh ! No way ! I'm the one who deserve this reward ! Mammon tries to appear confident but his blush betrays him. O-Okay, I know what I want ! Mc, you have the honour to... to...

- To ?

You look at him, a smile on your face. Mammon is destabilized by your attitude.

- H-Hey stop looking me like that !

- So, what do you want ? you chuckle.

- A kiss...

All turn to him, shocked.

- What ?!

- It's not an appropriate request, Mammon ! Lucifer yells.

Your heart misses a beat in your chest. Your cheeks become red, you can’t move. Your eyes are lost in Mammon’s. You don't hear the protests of the others. Finally, your bank account has no worries to have...

- A kiss ? That's what you want from me ? No money ? No credit card ?

- Say no Mc ! Don't kiss him !

- You don't have to !

- I want a kiss too, Beel adds.

- Wow, I couldn't imagine Beel would like anything other than food.

You try to make a sentence but you look a bit like a mess with your cheeks bruning.

- Mammon... I-

- It's okay if you don't want...

- Important information you have to know Mc, I'm a really good kisser. Better than Mammon, for sure ! Asmo winks at you.

- Of course not ! Mammon exclaims.

To silence everyone, you put your hand on Mammon's cheek and kiss his lips tenderly.

- Huhhh he's too lucky ! I'm jealous !

Mammon panics for a short time and then regains control of himself. His hands move subtly over your hips to hold you against him. He enjoys the kiss and intensifies it a little.

- You can't do that anywhere other than in front of us !? Levi screams.

The kiss stops, leaving both of you with red cheeks. The tension is palpable and then fades. You smile at Mammon before looking at Asmo with a teasing smile.

- All I can say is that Mammon is a very good kisser.

His brothers are yelling and grumbling about it.

- I hate you Mammon.

- M-Me too !

- M-Mc ! Don't say stuff like this in front of everyone ! I-I know my kisses are kinda- Anyway stop acting like you're acting !

- It's just a compliment, you wink at him, teasingly.

- They isn't too innocent~

- Is it possible to have a reward for the professors ? Solomon asks, laughing.

- It's not correct to ask that, Lucifer says.

- Yeah so be quiet, sorcerer ! growls Belphie.

- Calm down, it was a simple question. Not an order, says teasingly Solomon.

- Are you holding back your anger, Lucifer ? Your eyes betray you-

Satan is stopped by the tone of Lucifer.

- One more word and you'll be punished.

- Who would give a kiss to an otaku like me ? Levi whispers to himself.

The boys hide their jealousy wherever they can.

- Guys ! It was just a kiss ! And I made a promise only to Mammon !

- Jealousy dripping from their bodies, chuckles Solomon.

- Not at all. There's no point in hiding yours, we know very well that you also want a Mc's kiss !

- I don't hide it, Belphie.

- Really ? Are you jealous for a kiss ? you ask.

- Yes a little, Beel admits.

- No ! I don't like normies like you ! Levi blushes. Even if y-you're m-my f-favourite o-one...

- Why would I be jealous of Mammon ? Ridiculous, adds Lucifer, nonchalantly.

- I'll have other opportunities to erase that memory from your head, Satan smiles, already planning how he could get a kiss from you.

- You’re just disgusted and I understand that ! The "stupid Mammon" got a kiss from the best person in the three realms together ! Too sad for you, loosers !

At the same time Luke comes running towards you. Mammon stops his arrogance and watches the little angel run.

- Why Fido is running in our direction ?

- Luke's here ?

- The chihuahua seems very happy.

Very happy, the young boy jumps with joy showing you his good grade.

- Mc ! Look my grade ! I had a very good grade !

You shift all your attention to the little angel. Your smile becomes brighter and you ruffle the hair of the child in front of you.

- Wow ! I'm really impressed ! Good job Luke ! Come here !

You take him in your arms and hug him.

- Thank you !

- Oi Fido ! Let them go !

- You didn't made a promise to Luke so why you hugging him and not me ? Satan asks sadly.

- It's different ! He's like my baby angel ! I can hug him when he wants to !

- Hey ! Don't call me baby angel ! I'm not a child !

- Sorry Luke, of course you're not ! you smile.

- A hug for me ? Asmo proposes.

- For me too !

- I want it too !

The twins exclaim in turn. Asmo is the first to join your hug. He's followed by Beel and Belphie then all the others.

- Eh !? Not without me ! says Levi.

- Bunch of bastards ! Let them go ! Mc is mine !

- Mammon ! Your language ! Luke is here ! you scold the second brother.

- What the- Wait ! Mc is mine ! says Satan

- Of course they isn't yours ! They is mine and only mine, Lucifer continues.

- Incorrigible... sighs Solomon, amused by the situation"

In the end, a collective hug was imposed to you.

˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚

Words : 2 997.

Gif created by me.

The image belongs to Solmare and the modifications of the visual was done by me.

[alien--cookie]

I'm like 8 years too late, but oh well - I've had this Captain America Civil War rant stuck in my head for a while and I need to get it out after re-watching it. (This is gonna be long af, but bear with me).

I feel like a lot of people missed the actual point and plot of the movie (and the marketing definitely didn't help). The whole "team cap vs team iron man" stuff becomes irrelevant after like the first 20 minutes of the movie. But of course, it's still quite a big part of the movie and I'd like to take a moment to explore what I think, the different character motivations are around why they signed or didn't (or would / wouldn't).

The only reason Tony "I successfully privatised world peace" Stark signed the accords in the first place anyway is because of his massive survivors guilt complex which we see triggered by the woman who approaches him at the end of his speech to the MIT students. Like this man does not give a single shit about the government, and much like Steve Rogers, he just wants to keep people safe. Unlike Steve, however, he doesn't trust himself to do so and thinks of himself needing the be kept in check, for someone else to take the blame (though he'd probably internalise it anyway, let's be real).

Rhodey has always kind of been more on the side of the government, even if that meant going against Tony - think Iron Patriot - so it makes sense that he'd want to sign. He understands that a group as powerful and dangerous as the Avengers needs to be kept in check, but what he doesn't understand are the risks around that. In a perfect world, it would be fine, but unfortunately government systems are stupid and corrupt.

Peter was only really in the fight in the first place because he was a child blindly following this big celebrity guy he idolised. He didn't know enough about the situation to properly analyse it, just being fed and believing whatever Tony told him (and he had no reason to go against him, so why would he? This was his shot, he's been chosen by THE Tony Stark to help). "Mr Stark said you'd say that" "he said you're wrong, you think you're right, that makes you dangerous." I 100% believe that if Peter had read the accords, that he would have been on Steve's side anyway.

Vision is an embodiment of 'good' and 'peace' - essentially everything that Ultron was supposed to be, but wasn't. He has no reason to be against the accords if it will keep people safe and he makes the point during their conversation of "our very strength invites challenge. Challenge incites conflict. And conflict ... breeds catastrophe. Oversight ... oversight is not an idea that can be dismissed out of hand." It's also very much the beginning kind of puppy love between him and Wanda in this movie, meaning that he will want to protect her. No matter what. Even if it means "locking her in her room."

Nat was seriously one of the only people in this movie with a brain cell lol. I firmly believe that if the accords had been properly put in place, she would have followed them until she no longer thought the government's instructions were 'right' and would have gone against them anyway. Her main goal in this movie was trying to keep the Avengers, her family, together and ultimately do the 'right' thing.

T'challa didn't give one shit about the accords lmao, he's damn king. No, he was only there in the first place to take revenge on his father's death (which at the point of the airport fight scene he still thought it was Bucky's fault. He later discovers, after following Steve and Bucky to Siberia, that it's Zemo's, and locks him up).

Steve's concerns with the accords are valid, and honestly I wouldn't have signed them either. To be told "sign, retire, or get locked up" isn't really a big winner for me lol. And the thing is, Steve's done this. He fought in WW2, he got paraded around like some big hero while men died, and he did nothing. It wasn't until he went against orders, that he actually did something helpful (saved the captured 107th division in Azzano). So, no, he's not going to be side-lined when people out there need help. That's just not who he is.

Bucky had no part in the accords, and as soon as he got introduced into the movie, that plot point became irrelevant. He was framed by Zemo, and then used to rip the avengers apart. The accords was just another log to add to the fire at that point. He followed Steve because "till the end of the line" and all that. He literally, heartbreakingly, says "I don't know if I'm worth all this," but he follows anyway.

Scott, much like Peter, is kinda just happy to be there. He's following CAPTAIN FREAKING AMERICA into battle without hesitation. But like, let's be honest, given his whole movie and character, I very much doubt Scott would be on Tony's side if he had read the accords.

Clint got dragged out of freaking retirement for this shit, and he didn't actually get involved until after Team Cap already knew about Zemo. That's why he's there. Not because of the accords, but to help Steve get to the Quinjet to get to Siberia and stop Zemo before he can go through with his assumed plan to wake up the five super soldiers who'd been stashed there. (Of course, this isn't actually Zemo's plan, but we'll get back to that later).

Wanda is going through some serious self loathing during this movie, and the incident in Lagos doesn't help. Like at all. Ma girl just wants to live her life and be left alone at this point and she's getting all of these horrible things thrown into her face by Secretary Ross. She doesn't want to be controlled, she doesn't want to be a weapon, she wants to be free. "You locked me in my room." - Girl already probably hates Tony Stark due to her family being killed by one of his bombs and Ultron, so she's mad anyway.

Sam is on Steve's side from the start. With the accords, to fight Zemo, all of it. During the 'discussion' between him and Rhodey, he says "So let's say we agree to this thing. How long is it gonna be before they LoJack us like a bunch of common criminals?" He doesn't trust Secretary Ross, and is clearly hesitant to add his signature to the accords. (not that I blame him).

The main actual villain and 'plot' of the movie after the first part with the accords, was the whole thing with Zemo wanting to tear the Avengers apart to get revenge for his family dying in Sokovia. He takes advantage of the accords, and of Bucky / The Winter Soldier to do this but it's not really discussed which annoys me. It's a MAJOR part of the film, yet all I ever really see being discussed are the accords affecting the decisions of characters throughout the film with no consideration of the wider picture.

From when the UN meeting is blown up, the Avengers are being manipulated by Zemo working in the background throughout the film. He frames Bucky for murder, and Steve - who has been looking for Bucky for the past 2 years - goes after him like ‘tf man’. Bucky gets taken in and Zemo uses the opportunity to activate the Winter Soldier programming, learn about Hydra’s super soldier program, and of course - “Mission report. December 16, 1991.”

This leads to Bucky’s escape and attack, Steve and co going on the run, and eventually the airport fight. The meaning of this scene gets lost, I feel, when people relate it back to the accords because it’s not about that anymore. Not really, not for anyone. Especially not for Steve, or even for Tony.

Tony at this point, most definitely feels like his world is being torn apart. He’s losing control, he’s spiralling, and Steve just isn’t listening. He’s blinded by his anger to the bigger picture and he just wants to get a handle on the situation to deal with it further.

Steve’s forgotten all about the accords, his priority is keeping Bucky safe and stopping Zemo. He tries to tell Tony, tries to talk to him, but Tony isn’t listening either. I mean their whole interaction just before the fight shows this:

(the dialogue below has been condensed to show the key lines - basically I got rid of other characters talking irrelevantly)

-

Steve Rogers: Hear me out, Tony. That doctor, the psychiatrist, he's behind all of this.

Tony Stark: Anyway, Ross gave me 36 hours to bring you in. That was 24 hours ago. Can you help a brother out?

Steve Rogers: You're after the wrong guy.

Tony Stark: Your judgment is askew. Your old war buddy killed innocent people yesterday.

Steve Rogers: And there are five more super soldiers just like him. I can't let the doctor find them first, Tony. I can't.

- later -

Tony Stark: And you've been a complete idiot. Dragging in Clint. 'Rescuing' Wanda from a place she doesn't even want to leave, a safe place. I'm trying to keep . . . I'm trying to keep you from tearing the Avengers apart.

Steve Rogers: You did that when you signed.

Tony Stark: Alright, We're done. You're gonna turn Barnes over, you're gonna come with us. NOW! Because it's us! Or a squad of J-SOC guys . . . with no compunction about being impolite. [Steve looks aside.] Come on.

-

Not to mention that Tony, after learning that Zemo impersonated and killed the actual doctor dude that was supposed to see Bucky whilst he was in confinement, he DISOBEYED the accords and Secretary Ross to go and help Steve stop what they thought at the time was the reactivation of the five super soldiers who'd been left in cryo freeze.

He follows Steve and Bucky to Siberia to help them, not to fight them. That only changes because of Zemo showing the footage of Bucky, WHILE UNDER BASICALLY MIND CONTROL, killing Tony’s parents.

In this scene, Tony 100% has every right to be angry. Unfortunately, he’s the kind of person who cannot see past his anger. He gets in his head, he spirals, and he tries to kill Bucky based on blind rage. (IT WASN’T BUCKY’S FAULT DAMMIT).

And yes, Steve was 100% in the wrong for not telling Tony. This whole scene could have been very easily avoided if Steve had just pulled Tony aside and had the difficult conversation about his parents death. Tony deserved to know, and Steve was only sparing himself pain by doing it. Dick move Steve, 0/10.

The fight between the three allows Zemo, having successfully completed his plan of eliminating the super soldiers and tearing the avengers apart, to slip away. With his work done, he tries to end his own life, but T’challa stops him and arrests him instead.

Steve and Tony’s fight was unnecessary, dramatic, and heart-breaking, and I’m very glad they managed to make up later, but ye. I think, at the end of the day, they’re all just dramatic idiots with communication issues lol.

-

Thank you for reading my long ass essay lmao, apparently I have a lot of feelings about this movie 😂

[verystrxxwberry]

Hi, Alex! How is your day going? I was here to do a request about MCL high school life (completely sfw, so it is safe!) about the routes dealing with a reader who is stressed because they overwork in school and still doubt that will never achieve the dream of going to university?

It's just I am pretty stressed with the thought of not being able to go to university, because even if I overwork a lot, I don't get the perfect grades that I would like :(. Anyway, thank you so much! Love your writing<33

MY CANDY LOVE HSL; When you are stressed about school.

♪¸¸.•*¨*•. ♪¸¸.•*¨*•. ♪¸¸.•*¨*•. ♪¸¸.•*¨*•.

𝐂𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭: fluff, MCL HSL routes, comfort. ↝ 𝐂𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: Greetings! I am doing quite good, thanks for asking. Regarding your issue, I understand you a lot, because my last year before entering university also was like that. I don't know how your country's education system will work, but whatever it is, university is not the only path in life. There are many people who have moved on without a career or something; and above all prioritize your own health! I understand that you want to get good grades, but if you overwork yourself you will only block your brain and not allow it to function well because it will be exhausted since it has no rest. Good luck, and take life easy, it's only one life you have and you have to enjoy it!

♪¸¸.•*¨*•. ♪¸¸.•*¨*•. ♪¸¸.•*¨*•. ♪¸¸.•*¨*•.

CASTIEL 

He didn’t start caring about his grades until he saw that he failed almost every subject during the first months of classes. Sigh… he can’t let that happen.

Initially, there was a contrast between you and him. He was the stereotypical rebellious kid who didn't care about classes, and you were that student who was always keeping up with the class. Castiel is aware of how much effort you put into studying. Many times he would tell you to come to his house to spend time with him, and he would let you study on his desk for a while without any problem. Of course, he is strict about breaks and insisting that you give your little head a rest.

He will even quietly kiss your head spontaneously as you are focused on studying, to cheer you up however he can.

Castiel feels confusion when he sees that a grade matters so much to you to the point of breaking down over it. He doesn't blame you, but considers that you don't deserve so much pressure regarding grades. As he looks you in the eyes  and pulls your hair out of your face, he would say "Come on, life doesn't end because of a grade. You're human, not a machine; although sometimes machines fail too. But so what? We can't be good at everything. Ask for help, don't give up." You can feel his hand cupping your chin to make you look at him. And you can see the worry and affection on his eyes.

He's concerned about how this issue affects your mental health. After every test you take, he would take you somewhere for a date so you don't get over stressed. A break for your own good never hurts.

In Castiel's opinion, college is overrated; but he knows you are capable. More than once he will have had deep conversations with you about "You're already too hard on yourself, don't drown yourself in an abyss of negativity before you start something you want." 

Even if you didn't go to college, that wouldn't make you any less human. And there's nothing wrong with that.

Castiel would support you no matter what your decision, though he'd rather you take things more lightly. He doesn't like to see you stop enjoying your actuality because of the stress of school.

NATHANIEL

Nathaniel's strict prioritization of his studies was mainly because of his father, but Nath had inner desires that went against the stereotype that he was.

During class he already noticed that you felt some frustration when you received your test grade. His hand rested on your forearm and he looked at you with concern. "Hey, what's wrong?" 

When you explain your disappointment in reference to your exam grade, he sighs and shakes his head. "Get that thought out of your head, dear.... No grade is perfect and everyone has their strengths and weaknesses." He strokes your back gently, in order to comfort your state of mind.

If you're struggling with something, he has no problem helping you to understand it. He makes dates to study with you in a cafe <3 (he would end up inviting you to dinner or a drink in the cafe itself). And never feel ashamed of failing! Everyone does and there are always opportunities to improve. If there aren't, then life goes on; don't get stuck in the past.

Whatever grade you have, it will be something Nathaniel will congratulate you on. What matters is that you tried!

Nathaniel knows that having a good healthy schedule for your homework and study management will be what helps you get to college. He supports you, as long as you don't break your boundaries. Don't set expectations, don't compare yourself, just do what you can without pushing your limits and you can get to where you want to be.

Another thing Nath would also do is to talk to the teachers so that they can help you in those subjects that are more difficult for you, and he could accompany you if you wanted. Anyway, he does it for your sake and seeing that you also put dedication makes him feel happy and proud. At the end of each day, before you each leave for home, he would give you a little kiss on the forehead and say "Good job today."

LYSANDER 

Lysander takes everything calmly, even studies. During classes he takes light notes, but generally listens to the teachers. Not ironically, his memory does not usually fail when it comes to his studies. Likewise, he is not a strict person with his schedule and he will see that you are quite strict with yours. Why do you study so much if your brain needs a break?

Lysander has no problem accompanying you to the library, but he insists that between assignments you take certain breaks. More than once he will tell you "Don't be so hard on yourself, it will have negative consequences in the future."

After each study session he sings to you to relax in his arms, to take your mind off anything study related and get some rest.

Lysander believes that you shouldn't look so much into your future, since the present is already unpredictable enough without planning for something stable in the future. You build your way towards that goal you have, but you will always encounter some difficulty along the way. He knows that your grades are that difficulty that keeps you from moving forward in terms of your hopes of going to college.

"Honey, do what you can; what matters is that you tried. Life goes on, sometimes you have to take shortcuts or other paths that don't allow you to reach your goal. But it will never be your fault, since you already know that you have done your best" He would tell you while caressing the back of your neck. "Be proud of yourself and stop criticizing yourself so much. You don't value yourself enough to see that you are capable enough to put so much effort into things; and that is what should be valued the most."

KENTIN 

Oh no, he's not going to let your little pretty face fill with sadness over something as annoying as grades. He understands that you want to go to college and he will certainly encourage you to follow your dreams; but in moderation! He would suggest that you come to his house to study with him, or to the library, and then he would reward you with cookies.

Kentin will force you to take at least two or three hours a day for yourself. You know what they say about playing sports for a while a day so you can exercise your concentration? Well Kentin believes it and will encourage you to join his routines so you can concentrate better and study in less hours than extending them to the point that it affects you negatively.

There's nothing more upsetting for Kentin than seeing you cry over a grade. "Hey, nooo, listen, you're more than enough, don't let a grade ruin your life! You're very disciplined, I'm sure that facet already opens many doors for you even if you don't make it to college" He would tell you as he cradles your cheeks in his hands.

He's going to kiss your tears, he's not going to let you be sad for long.

Kentin is very involved in you taking some time out of your day just for you. He invites you to his house to take a nap, or to go practice sports with him, or bake cookies in his kitchen. But he also supports you to study and spend time studying; but he offers you the idea of balance your organization so that you can clear your mind and have a more positive mindset.

ARMIN 

Maybe Armin is a bad influence when it comes to giving school advice?- He would literally tell you to focus on being happy and leave all those worries behind you. In fact, he supports that idea of; if it makes you feel bad, leave it.

But he knows he can't be such a bad influence and push you to make decisions that distract you from your path for so long. 

It confuses him why you care so much about your grades. He witnesses all the effort you put into studying, since during exams time he can barely see you :(. Usually because he always brings his console with him, and that's going to distract you from studying. He doesn't mind being patient; he will always send you messages of support when you go to study!

It took him a while to realize that it really is an issue that affects you, but when he saw that it was serious, ah-ah, don't even think about overworking. "You know what happens to a character when they run out of stamina? They feel weak, they can't cope well with situations and they need rest. So do you!"

The easiest way he has to distract you is to write you a message in discord and saying “hop on terraria, bb” (or any other game). But he can completely adapt to those things you enjoy doing! He doesn’t mind (even if it is out home he is gonna whine a lot)

No matter the grade you get on an exam, he is gonna clap at you and feel very happy for you. Sometimes he’d make you blush from embarrassment at how loud he can be… But still, he is very proud of you. And he is not gonna hide it!

“Oh, hey, what’s with that pout? Come on, smile! You did such a great job.” He speaks in such a sweet way that it barely looks like him, but he wants to make you smile, to squeeze you in between his arms. “Never give up, you are strong enough to deal with this and more! But do it at the needed pace to not drain yourself, remember?”

Never back down never give up

✰; remember to reblog and like to support my content, I hope you enjoyed it!

[sapphicideas]

kind of a vent and you can just ignore this if you want. I’m a college age bi tgirl who’s been having a bit of a rough time of it. I’ve done my best to be picky but it feels like all the worst people just throw themselves at me. From emotionally manipulative girl, to boy who blatantly cheated on me when I didn’t want to have sex right away, another girl who after I turned her down decided to try to rape me, just to name a few. Every time I feel like it’ll be different, like I’ve sifted through and found someone who is genuine and then I just get fucked over again. Either they only want me for my body to fill their fetish, or the leave once they find out about it thinking I’m gross, or they just want to try and manipulate me and get upset when I try to stand up for myself, or maybe I’m just a novelty and they get bored and leave. It just kind of feels like at this point this is just what I deserve I guess. I don’t know where I’m going with this I think I just wanted to try and get it out of my system. It’s just exhausting feeling like no matter what I do I always get fucked over.

first of all, i want to say that i am extremely sorry you're going through that. college alone is extremely stressful and situations like this just make that even worse.

you don't deserve any of this. i know it might feel like you do because after enduring so much of this bad stuff, our mind starts to believe that no matter what we do, it won't make a difference. it's like our brain just gives up on trying to fight it and just learns to accept it, instead of realizing the situation could change. bad coping mechanisms are probably feeding this negative thinking pattern too, so it's very important for you to start working on your self esteem and the way you deal with these kinds of situations. if you don't, it will eat you alive.

each time you experience that kind of self doubt, i want you to immediately shut down that negative thought and replace it with a question instead. something like 'assuming it's not my fault, what other explanation could this have?' for example, in your case you said 'i guess it's just what i deserve' which is wrong. i want you to ask yourself that question and realize that you are not at fault. the answer should be 'this person overstepped my boundaries, made me feel bad and hurt me. but i'm not at fault, i can't control other people's actions'. remember, you can only control how you react to the attack itself. if you still don't fully believe that, think about it as if it was a friend or even a complete stranger. blaming someone for getting hurt or used doesn't sound nice, does it? i'm sure you would never do that. so why would you do that to yourself?

you need to treat yourself the way you'd treat someone else, have some self compassion. you don't deserve anything bad, and you're not stupid for not realizing someone's intentions beforehand. people can be really manipulative, and that's not your fault. it's okay to feel hurt, and it's okay to realize someone didn't have good intentions with you. none of that reflects your true worth. you're not less human for not being able to anticipate someone's deceiving behavior. believe me, it's hard for everyone, even for me. and i'd say i'm pretty good at reading people.

i like that you're being picky, i want you to keep having hope. even if that means stepping away from the dating scene for a bit. focus on healing first. keeping that hope intact is what matters the most, not giving someone a chance just because 'they're nice' or 'i think they're treating me okay'. set boundaries, step by step. and don't give up, you're so strong, pretty girl. if you have to stop talking to someone who makes you feel bad, do it. it might hurt in the moment, but in 2 years you won't ever remember their name, i can assure you that.

you don’t have to have it all figured out today or tomorrow, maybe not even next month. it takes so long to unlearn bad habits, even longer than it takes to learn new ones.

sorry it took me this long to reply, i completely missed this ask. and i'm sorry for the actual bible that this response has been, my god. but i figured that if you didn't come back with another ask, i'd just lay the whole thing out there. stay strong, you're loved and worthy of respect. that's the bare minimum, take care princess

[spee-eeeeee]

“Welcome our house! My misty” Part2

(Yandere Tomas x female reader )

Part 1↓

I wrote this in Japanese and then translated it into English with Google Translate, so I've edited it but apologize if there are any mistakes! I hope you like this,,,

Warning: kidnapping , Co-dependency (like Stockholm syndrome?) ,Death of the reader, strangulation, etc. Anyway, he's a yandere

　

A few days have passed since you was kidnapped by Tomas. He still treats you like a princess. The only thing that has changed is that you are now allowed to leave your room. That being said, you can only go in and out to use the bathroom, and he doesn't look too pleased if you try to leave the room at any other time, so you have no choice but to stay in your room to avoid upsetting him.

He never raised his hand against you, and he never forced you to do anything sexual. At most it's a light kiss. Whenever he touched you, he was always gentle, as if he was handling something fragile. Maybe it was because you were afraid of making him angry that you didn't act rebelliously. If you were obedient, his doubts about you running away would gradually disappear, and you might be able to get a chance to run away.

Although he doesn't violence towards you , he loves physical contact, or rather skinship. Every time you wake up, he comes into your room, perhaps at the right time, and kisses you on the forehead or cheek. He also likes to hold your hand and hug you . Every time he does this, you try your best not to look bitter and overreact.

He usually makes breakfast before you wake up. And he watches you eat with a very happy look on his face. Every time, he asks you how the food tasted, and when you say it was delicious, he blushes a little and gets a little embarrassed. After you finish eating, he always takes the time to chat with you . Well, he's the only one having fun. You have no idea what kind of work he does. You've asked him about his work to find out the time he's away, but he always evades the question and switches to another topic. Maybe he really doesn't want to know. It seems like it'll be difficult to catch him off guard.

But if you don't take any action, you'll be stuck here forever. No matter how delicious and warm the meals he makes for you and how kind he is, he's still a kidnapper, and kidnapping someone is not what a normal person would do. You don't want to think about it, but if you were to be stuck here forever, you'd eventually go crazy.

But you just can't find a solution. You don't do self-defense or martial arts, and you don't have the brains to come up with a plan that will surprise him. Even though you know that, you keep thinking about it over and over. Even when he's right in front of me, you end up worrying about him because you keep thinking about it.

"What's wrong? Maybe you're not feeling well?"

You’re not feeling bad, and you wanted to blame him for just being with you, but you kept that to yourself self.

"No! I was just thinking about something…..."

You hastily denied it. He looked a little suspicious, but his usual smile quickly returned and he seemed relieved.

A few more days passed without any progress. Even if you thought of ways to exploit his weakness, you of course didn't have the courage to put them into action. You were afraid of retaliation if you made him angry. You've never seen him angry, but if did something to make him do that, your life might even be in danger. You can't get out of here anyway. So why not just accept him? He is very kind as long as I don't rebel against him, and except for the fact that he is a kidnapper, he is the ideal lover. If you accept him, will become his true "lover". Then, will you no longer have to worry about it any more and feel more at ease? You don't even know what you’re thinking. You thought the only one who was crazy was him, who had suddenly kidnapped you and said you’re his girlfriend, but maybe you’re going crazy too because you’ve been in this situation for too long. feel like he's gradually invading your thoughts.

The next morning, you finished my meal as usual, staring at him. He put your plate down and sat down next to you on the bed. For some reason, his cheeks were very red.

"I have a present for you."

He showed me a small box. Oh, what is this box? Then he stood up and knelt in front of me.

"My misty,,,"

He removed the lid of the small box. Inside was a

shiny silver ring. Stop! Don't say any more! Please….please…….please stop saying that!

"I want you to be by my side ,,,,,,forever."

He looks at you expectantly. Now, you must choose ...

Accept him / Reject him

▶︎Accept him

"...Okay..."

You say this with determination. Because you have no other choice.

"I'm really ……really happy……I'll never leave you alone. I swear to protect you no matter what."

He said this, hugged tightly and kissed you . Usually it was on the cheek or forehead, but this time it was on the lips. Thinking back, you had only ever thought of denying him. You had never once tried to be considerate of him. Generally speaking, being kidnapped means being tied up and left somewhere, or being beaten, not being given food, or something terrible. What's more, there is a high possibility that you might even be killed. But what about him? He is incredibly kind to you and does everything for you . Has anyone ever looked at me so much? You suddenly remember your family and friends. No one has ever looked at you so much as he has! Not even one person! As he promised, you will spend your time "happily" with him from now on. Just as he did for me, you will think of him.

▶︎Reject him

"I don't want to spend time with you! Get me out of here!"

You thought that now was the time to say it. If you miss this chance, there won't be another time.

"You really think I'll accept your invitation? I can't believe it!"

You continued to shout at him. His eyes were wide, and he was stunned. He didn't say a word.

Something was wrong. You had a really bad feeling. Now you were starting to regret yelling at him so much. You couldn't bear the way he looked at me, so you looked away, but doing that wouldn't solve anything. You took the plunge and looked at him again. He was staring at me, and you could see murky emotions lurking in the depths of his eyes. You felt his affection and sadness for me boiling up, so much so that he no longer had any trace of his original form. Maybe it was his terrifying gaze and the heavy atmosphere that seemed to cling to me, but you felt a chill run down my spine.

"What did I do wrong?"

You instinctively stood up and put some distance between us. You took a step, then two steps back. He stood up and came towards me.

"Don't reject me... don't run away from me."

As you backed away, eventually hit a wall. He had cornered me, and there was no way to escape. He grabbed your shoulders forcefully and held you down. It hurts, stop, you struggled, but you couldn't win by force. Every time you screamed at him, "I hate you! Let go!", he started to strangle me as if he didn't want to hear it anymore. You desperately tried to get oxygen and move to get out of the restraints, but it was no use. It was painful, painful! Your vision was blurring. You realized that death was near. And the last thing you saw was his face, a mess of tears and snot.

"No... no... I didn't mean it like this... sorry…….. I’m sorry…….I really didn't mean it like this..."

"I just wanted to be your only one...don’t leave me….."

The only sound that could be heard was Tomas' sobbing.

P.S. thanks for reading! Btw You can request either pictures or short novel. I don't know if I'll write or draw it though.

[dwobbitfromtheshire]

Just Friends

A pre-Stoncy s1 Fanfiction

Jonathan was so grateful that Will was returned safely from the Upside Down that he never left his side once he woke up. Will had insisted that Jonathan take a break, and he had no choice when Joyce backed him up. With Will coming back, he hadn't really had time to think about anything else or the consequences of his actions until he found Steve in an empty waiting room, digging his finger in his ear.

"Steve, are you okay?" Jonathan asked, but Steve was either ignoring him or he couldn't hear him. "Steve?!"

Jonathan touched his shoulder, and Steve jumped, whirling around. He looked surprised. Okay, so he hadn't heard him.

"Jonathan!" Steve yelled. "I didn't hear you come in!"

"Steve, are you okay?" Jonathan asked.

"Yeah, I just think that I have something in my ear," Steve said.

Then, the weight of everything that Jonathan had done had sunk in. He wanted Steve to be the asshole and he wanted to blame him for everything that went wrong. Steve Harrington with the perfect hair and who had everything handed to him. The truth was that Steve had been an asshole for what he had said at the theater and for not stopping Tommy and Carol. Jonathan had been a bigger asshole for taking those pictures and for taking back his apology to Nancy when she had confronted him. He had been so angry that Steve had destroyed his camera. Breaking a camera, he realized, was nothing in comparison to breaking someone's brain. It didn't matter that Will had been missing. Assaulting Steve and nearly killing him was way worse. Jonathan being so distraught about Will going missing wouldn't have been a justifiable excuse for either deafening or killing him. Jonathan was scared again.

"Fuck, Steve, you need to see a doctor," Jonathan said.

"What? No! I'm fine!" Steve exclaimed.

"Steve, I could have seriously messed up your hearing," Jonathan said.

He wanted to throw up when he said that. He couldn't believe that he was so worried about a stupid fucking camera. A camera can be replaced, a brain can't. If his hearing got permanently damaged because Jonathan was too stupid to control his anger. . . He had risen to Steve’s bait. It was almost like Steve had wanted Jonathan to keep hitting him, like he had been begging him too.

"It's just a little water in the ear," Steve said.

"Have you been in the water recently?" He asked.

"Well, no," he replied.

"I fucked up your hearing," Jonathan said with a sigh. "Go see a doctor."

Suddenly, Nancy entered the empty waiting room. Well, it was no longer empty except for the three of them. Her eyes were red rimmed from crying, reminding Jonathan that Barb hadn't come back from the Upside Down like Will had.

"What's going on?" Nancy asked.

"Steve can't hear out of his left ear," Jonathan said. "It's my fault."

He couldn't take it. Jonathan ran the trash can in the room and emptied the contents of his stomach. Images filtered through his head: Steve lying in a hospital bed in a vegetative state. . . Steve lying dead in that alleyway. . .then a memory of long ago entered his head. He remembered the first time his father had hit his mother. Joyce had always made sure that they had never seen it, but Jonathan had come inside much earlier than he had been told to. His father was making excuses to her, but no real apologies, making it Joyce's fault that Lonnie had hit her. Joyce had looked much like Steve does now.

"It's okay, sweetheart. Mommy just had a little accident," Joyce said.

Jonathan wanted to throw up again. He stood up and wiped his mouth. He turned to Steve.

"Get your ears checked," Jonathan said.

"It's going to clear up on its own," Steve blushed.

"Don't be an idiot, Steve Harrington," Nancy said. "If you're having trouble hearing, you need to get it looked at."

"It's not fair that you're both looking at me like that," Steve said. "Fine. Let's do this. I just - hate doctors."

"I'll go with you," Jonathan said.

"You don't have to do this," Steve said. "I deserved to get hit. I was an asshole. You have nothing to feel guilty about."

"You deserved to get slapped for what you said, not me turning your face into ground beef," Jonathan said. "If your brain got damaged. . .man, that can't be replaced, but my camera can. I deserved what I got, but you should have just gotten slapped."

"Oh my god!" Nancy said, rolling her eyes. "You were both doucebags. Steve, let us go with you."

"Yeah, okay," Steve said as she turned to walk out, and he looked at Jonathan. "She's not the boss of us, is she?"

"Yeah, I think she is," Jonathan said and shared a smile with Steve.

"Well, she's not the worst boss in the world," Steve said and laughed with Jonathan.

"Idiots," Nancy said affectionately. "The both of you."

"What did she say?" Steve asked.

Jonathan made sure to stand on his other side.

"She called us idiots," he replied as they followed Nancy out the door.

"That means she likes us," Steve said.

As they both led Steve down the hallway, Jonathan passed his mother coming out of Will's room.

"Will's asleep. Where are you three off to?" Joyce asked.

He could tell his mother was trying not to look too excited at the prospect of him making friends. He knew her too well for her to hide it from him. Jonathan rolled his eyes with a sigh.

"We're taking him to see the doctor," Jonathan said. "He can't hear out of his left ear."

"Oh, honey, do you need me to call your parents?" Joyce asked Steve.

"They're not going to care," Steve said.

"What?" Joyce asked, concerned.

"I mean, because they're just so busy with my father's conference, it'll seem like they don't care, but they totally do," Steve said quickly. "They're just so busy. I don't want to bother them."

Steve said it too fast for her not to be suspicious. They all looked at him.

"Well, if you're sure. . .," Joyce said, looking doubtfully at him.

"Oh, I'm sure," Steve said.

Joyce hugged Jonathan and squeezed the other's arms before walking away.

"Oh, she's definitely calling your parents," Jonathan said.

"Fuck, they're going to kill me," Steve said.

It didn't raise any alarm bells with Nancy, who just sighed at the mention of his father, but it did with Jonathan. He knew what to look for when someone was hiding their fear. He knew how strong a motivator fear was. He had lived with it, but now they all did. Jonathan had suspected as much earlier. He gently brushed his fingers up against Steve’s, letting him know he was there. Steve smiled softly at him. Nancy still lived in a bubble, a bubble he hoped was never popped, where she didn't know or couldn't see the signs of abuse at the hands of a parent. This was a trauma she could never understand, just like they couldn't know what it was like to lose your best friend the way that Nancy had. Although, Steve had a closer idea of it.

Steve had no qualms about taking Nancy's hand before giving Jonathan a look for a moment and taking his hand as they continued walking down the hallway. Jonathan felt his head buzzing, and his stomach grow warm as the feeling of Steve’s hand in his. He looked straight ahead. Everyone was too busy to wonder what it looked like. Jonathan cared. . .Yeah, he cared very much.

"Good news, Mr. Harrington!" The doctor had proclaimed. "It's not permanent."

The doctor had kept them waiting for a while, leaving a very awkward silence with them trying to look anyone else but at each other. No one knew what to say to fill the silence. There had been one reprieve when Steve had been taken away to get some scans. Though it had been less awkward with only Nancy, it was still pretty awkward, and Jonathan had no idea what to say to her. The awkward silence had grown when Steve was returned back to them. Finally, the doctor returned to the small room with the results.

"Well, that's good to hear, or rather half hear," Steve joked, and the doctor laughed.

Jonathan drowned out what the rest of what the doctor was saying, letting the sense of relief wash over him. Was it selfish of him to be so relieved that he didn't have to deal with the consequences of those actions? He was pretty sure that he would have carried that guilt with him until it ate at him like a cancer. He was also so relieved for Steve. . .although Steve definitely could have handled being deaf considering how graceful he was now and how much he had handled taking on the demogorgon. He bit his lip as he remembered the way that Steve had burst through the door and picked up the nail bat. Suddenly, a hand was waved in front of his face, and Steve was standing in front of him. The doctor had long since left. It was now only Nancy, Jonathan, and Steve left in the room.

"You can breathe now, Jonathan," Steve said with a crooked smile. "I told you that I'm fine."

"I'm glad you're okay," he said as he tried to avoid Steve’s eyes.

Steve tucked a finger up under his chin so Jonathan could look at him.

"What else were you afraid of?" Steve asked.

"That I'm a lot more like my father than I thought," Jonathan said.

"Would your father have been so guilty that he had thrown up?" Steve asked.

"No, and he wouldn't have even bothered with a fake apology," Jonathan said.

"See? You're nothing like your dad," Steve said.

He was still holding Jonathan's chin with his fingers. Blushing, Jonathan moved his head and nudged his cheek into Steve’s hand. Steve grinned as he rubbed his thumb over Jonathan's cheekbone.

"I am sorry for all of it," Jonathan whispered. "Not just for hitting you but for what happened with the camera."

He said the last part to both Steve and Nancy. Jonathan blushed at the soft way they both looked at him. Did they also know about him sneaking away earlier to throw up when he also thought about the pictures and the things he said to Nancy in the woods? About using her fear of turning into her parents against her? Jesus, how do Nancy and Steve know how to inflate their eyes like that? He suddenly realized how dangerous they were. He was pretty sure they could convince him to do anything now just by doing their eyes like that.

"My father never apologized to me or showed that he was even guilty for hurting me," Steve said. "I never want to be like him either. I think a part of him spilled out of me in that alleyway when I said those things. That's why I wanted you to keep hitting me."

Nancy's eyes widened, and she looked at Steve. She was starting to put it together why Steve was so afraid of his father. It wasn't just a thing that someone says.

"Yeah, there was this moment in the woods with Nancy where my father also reared his ugly head," Jonathan said.

"I guess we have a lot more in common than we thought," Steve said.

"I wish we could have become friends without having to know what that's like," Jonathan said. "I wish none of this had to happen."

Jonathan was surprised when Steve moved and pulled him into his arms. He froze for a moment before wrapping his arms around Steve’s waist, breathing in his scent.

"I guess we can't really change the past, only change how we deal with it," Steve said.

Jonathan wanted to hate himself for believing in the stereotype that all jocks are dumb.

"Steve," he whispered, prepared to make another apology.

"So, we're friends, huh?" Steve asked.

He could feel Steve’s lips right next to his ear, and Jonathan had to suck in a breath. He hoped Steve never let him go. Steve pulled him closer. Their bodies now flush tightly against against each other as they both shifted. Jonathan wrapped his arms around Steve’s shoulders, letting Steve’s arms fall to his waist. Jonathan pressed his nose into Steve’s neck, trying to breathe him in deeper. He wondered how lonely he had felt with a father like that? Did he also hope to one day find someone who understands him like Jonathan did?

Jonathan was very warm, and his heart was racing. It was too warm in here. With his face still tucked into Steve’s face, Jonathan moved his arms away to tug off his jacket and let it fall to the floor. He moved his arms back around Steve. He grabbed the back of Steve’s sweater, bunching it up in his hands and pulling it up until his hands made contact with his skin. Steve’s hands slipped up under his shirt, causing Jonathan to gasp when his hands made contact with Jonathan's skin. Jonathan's lips brushed up against Steve’s neck before moving to brush up against his ear, placing a delicate kiss there. Nancy let out a loud breathy gasp.

They jumped apart rather quickly, remembering that she was in the room. Jesus, it was like they had tried to crawl inside of each other. Suddenly, Jonathan remembered when they had rolled around in the alleyway. Jonathan had gotten on top of him, his leg sliding between Steve’s leg. . .his knee had inadvertently brushed up against his. . . Judging by the way Steve blushed and the way he looked at Jonathan's legs, he remembered it too.

"Sorry," Steve and Jonathan said in unison.

"Don't be. It seems like you really needed that. . .hug," Nancy smirked, her face red.

Jonathan wanted to change the subject to anything else. God, was his heart pounding in his ears?

"I, uh, really meant it. I'm sorry for taking those pictures. I wish I could take it back," Jonathan said. "You have every right to get mad at me, and I shouldn't have gotten so defensive about it. I just - "

" - tried so hard not to be like your father that you did any way?" Nancy asked.

"Yeah," he said meekly.

"Well, you're a thousand times off to a better start than he will ever be," Nancy said. "Neither one of you are like your fathers. It's all about perspective, especially when we faced the demogorgon together. I forgave the both of you in that moment. Jonathan, you took on a monster from another dimension for your brother, and Steve, you went back into the house when you could have run to safety. In the long run, it doesn't matter as much anymore. We came out of it alive. I forgive both of you."

"I spent so long just trying to pretend like nothing hurt and hid all my pain behind the facade of King Steve. Doing nothing was better than feeling all the hurt that my parents left behind," Steve said. "If we're being honest here. . ."

"Yes, please," Nancy said.

"You two have shown me a better way of living," he said. "You showed me what was truly important and what people should do for the people they care about. My parents. . .Tommy and Carol, they showed me what not to do. They only ever cared about what I could do for their image. You two are more real than they've ever been. I want real. I don't want to run away from that anymore."

Jonathan and Nancy shared a look before smiling at Steve. They hugged him tightly. Yes, this felt right, being in their arms. Jonathan was staring to feel the same warmth that he had felt with Steve just a moment ago. It was building up. Jonathan pulled back with Nancy and Steve, their arms still around each other. The three of them were gazing at each other in a way that Jonathan felt should be weird, but it wasn't. Jonathan gazed at Steve's lips then at Nancy's, trying to decide. He could feel them do the same. His heartbeat was growing louder in his ears. This was it. No turning back. They were just leaning in when the door burst open. They sprang apart. The three of them ran out of the room before they could be questioned, Jonathan grabbing his jacket on the way out. They found themselves in Will's room, looking over him while he slept. It gave them an excuse not to talk about what just happened. Well, Steve just had to say something.

"So," he whispered. "I'm not crazy. There was something there, right?"

"I mean, you're definitely crazy but not for that," Jonathan whispered back.

"Hm, cute and funny. You're the complete package," Steve teased.

"I definitely feel something, but my head is still spinning from all of this," Nancy said. "Especially with Barb gone."

"Yeah, I'm sorry. I just thought we should be honest. Whatever you need from us, we're here for you," Steve said.

"As much as I want to throw caution to the wind and respond to my very carnal desires," she whispered and rolled her eyes affectionately when they grinned. "I am not in the right headspace for any major decision-making right now since we're all being honest with each other right now. . .if you two want to go ahead. . ."

Nancy was leaning against the wall in between them both. Jonathan looked at Steve over Nancy's head. They had a short conversation with their eyes.

"No, uh, I think we both want you there," Jonathan said.

"I just don't want anyone to feel like I stopped them from being together," Nancy whispered.

"Nance, you're the reason we're here now. We wouldn't have become friends if it wasn't for you. I mean, maybe it would have eventually happened but it would have taken a lot longer without you," Steve said.

"It just makes sense that our first time together should also be with you," Jonathan said.

"Whenever you're ready, we're ready," Steve said. "You're worth the wait, Nancy Wheeler."

"So. . .just friends for now?" She asked, smiling.

"For now," Steve and Jonathan agreed with soft smiles.

"So, did you ever think you'd want to be with a guy?" Steve whispered to Jonathan.

"I actually always assumed it was just guys until Nancy came along," Jonathan said.

"That's funny. For me, I always thought it was just girls until you came along," Steve said and flashed him a crooked smile.

"Funny how things work out," Nancy smiled softly.

Jonathan worried for a moment that they had been too loud when Will woke up suddenly.

"I'm hungry," Will said.

"I'll go get your mom," Steve said. "I'm pretty sure she's probably still filling up my parents' machine."

"Wait," Will said in confusion. "Are you three friends now?"

"Yeah, nothing like fighting a monster from another world to really bring you together," Steve grinned.

Will laughed, and it warmed Jonathan's heart to see Will light up with Steve. He groaned internally. Just friends. For now. It was going to be tougher than he thought it would be. Just friends, just friends, just friends. . .

"Ooh! A lucky penny!" Steve exclaimed and bent over.

Jonathan and Nancy both groaned.

[sophieinwonderland]

More on DNIs, and examples of why I hate them!

The DNI has become a weapon for bigots to harm marginalized communities. It has the illusion of setting a boundary, but in reality is meant to just give them a free pass for spreading hate and misinformation.

DNIs While Invading Spaces That Aren't Yours

As I've discussed before, the "plural" label is inherently inclusive. It was coined and popularized by nondisordered and endogenic systems.

But some have seen fit to try to take inclusive spaces from us and drive us out of the spaces we've built for ourselves. One such example is @illusions11, or the Lemon System.

They were an Aspenvader who came to Tumblr from Aspen's server with the express intent of trying to take our community from us and driving us out.

Lemon since had a falling out with Aspen, and blames Aspen for their old account getting banned. It should be noted though that on that old account, IIRC, they reblogged the infamous post calling for endogenic systems to die, and have always been a hateful person. This was likely not the reason they were banned, since Brassy unfortunately wasn't banned for posting it, but their ban was likely justified.

They've been informed that the tags they post in are inclusive, but they hide behind a DNI whenever anyone points out that they're invading our spaces.

If they actually wanted endogenic systems to not interact, it would be pretty easy to simply not post in our tags and spaces. But they intentionally do so, knowing that these spaces are ours and always have been, with the intent on causing harm to endogenic systems and driving us off.

I've likened this in the past to breaking into somebody's home, drawing a circle in chalk, calling them rude names from the circle, and then accusing them of violating your boundaries if you step inside the circle they drew in your own home.

DNIs To Protect From Being Corrected When Spreading Misinformation

This brings us to @jabberwock-islanders who claimed endogenic systems never provide resources when they say there are studies supporting endogenic systems.

This is pretty clearly misinformation, if you have actually paid any attention to the endogenic community.

There's a huge document of studies into endogenic systems and related phenomena here:

I can point to so many examples of psychologists, with various phrasings, acknowledging that you can be plural without trauma. But linking to those will be pointless when dealing with somebody who refuses to even click on your links.

So I could point to the fact that Dr. Eric Yarbrough has acknowledged the existence of endogenic plurality in a book reviewed and published by the American Psychiatric Association. I could point to how the creators of the theory of structural dissociation have said it may be possible to have self-conscious dissociative parts without trauma. I could point to the ICD-11's DID entry referring to how multiple distinct personality states (a term it uses synonymously with dissociative identities) can be experienced without a disorder. I could point to the doctor behind the Stanford Tulpa Study discussing early results of their brain scans, and referring to tulpa systems as tulpa systems.

But what would be the point when someone is committed to ignorance and refuses to even read anything that proves them wrong?

For Jabberwock-Islanders, their DNI is a shield that says "I can spread any lies about you I want, no matter how harmful they'll be to you and people you care about, and if you try to even politely correct my malicious lies, you're breaking my boundaries."

Normalizing Queerphobic DNIs

This DNI list comes from @strand-hunters, who doesn't want queer people with "contradictory labels" to interact with them

In another post, they give an explanation of what they mean to someone who asked about it.

"If you're queer in a way I don't understand, you aren't allowed to interact with me."

Most of what I've focused on has been the endos DNI up until this point, but what I want to highlight here is how the Endos DNI helps normalize telling queer people and other marginalized communities to not interact, and treat that as a valid boundary.

If "Endos DNI" is a valid boundary, then why not "bi-lesbians"? And if Bi-lesbians DNI" is a valid boundary, why not just "lesbians?" Why not "queer people" in general?

Do we want a world where it's normalized to tell people not to interact with you based on their queer identities? Because this is where DNI culture will lead.

One person with a DNI is an annoyance. But entire communities where DNIs are a mainstays means mass ostracization for not just different systems, but various types of queer people who present differently from what gatekeepers deem acceptable.

So sincerely...

Fuck your DNIs!

I will not respect hateful DNIs! If I see a post spreading hate against a marginalized community, I'm going to fucking interact with it to correct lies and combat hate! (Maybe not through reblogs since that gives the hate more notes, but at least through screenshots and tagging as I'm doing here.)

DNIs be damned!

[i-am-baechu]

Chapter Eight

Wishes (M) (Season One) 

Summary: After a long day of classes, Min Yoongi decides to take a break at the music hall that has become his second home. He walks in with his cigarette lit and his blank expression quickly changes when he sees a girl playing his piano. The moment their eyes meet, their lives become complicated and Yoongi blames himself for her future pain. Was the love we had honest? 

Genre: Gang au!, college au!,  strangers to enemies (one-sided), strangers to lovers, slow burn, friendships, romance, angst,  little comedy, and smut

Main pairing: Gang leader! Min Yoongi x Pianist! Reader 

Warnings: Explicit language, smut, mature themes, gangs, violence, smoking cigarettes, drugs, and alcohol usage 

Author's note: I worked really late in the past two days and I had to stay longer! I’m sorry this is late but something big happens in this chapter to make up lol 

⇜ Masterlist ⇝

There’s something about the silence that's comforting. It’s this unspoken feeling that makes you feel at home. There’s no one to take it away and it's something that never changes. It’s always there. No matter how hard you try. Even in moments when you're with people that make you feel something, silence is always there. You're the one to blame for the silence and you have to take responsibility before things get worse. Before things get worse...

Y/N stared at him and it was a look that he never wanted to see, “Y/N...” 

“You lied to me...You’ve been lying to me.” 

“I did it-”

“Don’t repeat it. I trusted you...all this for what? To make me look like an idiot?” 

Yoongi shook his head and brought her into him as she tried to push him away, “You're not an idiot...don’t ever say that about yourself.” He glanced down at her to see her standing still and he wiped the blood off of her forehead, “Y/N, I couldn’t tell you.” 

“Let. Me. Go.” 

“I won’t...I will never let you go...Never.” 

Four Days Ago 

Y/N watched with amusement and waved at her. She walked towards Yoongi with her arms over her chest, “Déjà vu.”

“At least I know your brain works.”

“I wish I could say the same about you.” 

Yoongi shook his head and glanced at Namjoon, “We’ll talk about it later.”

“Fine.”

Y/N watched Namjoon walk away with annoyance in his step. She turned back to Yoongi and frowned, “What’s wrong with him?”

“Nothing, let me take you out.”

She raised her eyebrow and pursed her lips, “Taking me out?” 

“That’s what I said right, Bambi?” 

She snickered at this and sighed, “Fine, if I must. Where are you taking me?” 

“Seeing Lana.” 

The two walked side by side and this time Yoongi was the one that grabbed her hand. She glanced down and she couldn’t help but smile at the scene before her. Yoongi saw the smile and he couldn’t help but smile to himself. He rubbed her knuckles as the fall winds guided them to Lana’s restaurant. He opened the door and he raised his eyebrow, “If you're going to do that, lock the doors.”

“What’s happening?”

Yoongi moved his body to cover the scene from Y/N. Lana was on one of the tables with Hoseok on top of her. It was clear they were kissing with the lipstick stains on his lips and his flushed face. He was thanking god that he still had pants on. Hoseok let out a small cough and helped Lana off the table as she gave him a shy smile, “H-Hey...Why are you here?” 

“You're a restaurant owner, what do you think?”

He felt a small punch to his back and he glanced behind to see Y/N frowning at him, “Be nice.” 

He rolled his eyes and glanced back at Lana, “I wanted to eat with my Bambi.”

“Bambi?” 

Yoongi moved to the side and Y/N smiled at Lana, “Good afternoon.” 

Lana glanced at Hoseok who was just as surprised as her. She looked back at Y/N and waved, “I was wondering when I would see you again.” 

“I’m glad I made a good first impression.”

Hoseok glanced at Yoongi and saw a look he had only seen once. He watched Y/N going towards Lana with excitement and he turned towards his boss with a smile, “Happiness looks good on you.”

Yoongi raised his eyebrow at him and shook his head, “Don’t say stupid things.” 

“It’s not stupid when it's the truth. You called her “My Bambi”, or am I hearing things?” 

Yoongi let out a small cough, “Get back to work.” 

Hoseok let out a laugh and glanced at Y/N, “Where there is love there is no darkness...remember that.” 

Yoongi looked towards Y/N who was laughing with Lana and it felt like a freeze frame from a movie. All he saw was her smile and compassionate eyes. Something he wasn’t used to and never will be but he wants to be especially with her. He looked back at Hoseok with a frown, “With my darkness, it will just suck her up...and then what?” 

“You’ll save her.” 

“Hoseok are you leaving?”

Hoseok turned towards Lana and frowned, “Yeah but I’ll come by tonight.”

She nodded her head and walked towards him with a smile on her face. She leaned towards him and placed a kiss on his cheek, “I’ll see you tonight.”

Yoongi glanced at Y/N who was watching the scene with a smile and Yoongi could sense the feeling of wanting. She walked towards her and pushed some hair off of her shoulder, “What’s with that look?” 

“What look?” 

“It's a look of wanting.” 

She frowned and glanced at Lana and then back at Yoongi, “Having someone sounds nice...that’s all.” 

“Am I invisible now?” 

She rolled her eyes and crossed her arms over her chest, “You know what I mean.”

“Do I Bambi? Use your words.” He pushed some hair from her forehead and she glanced up but he ignored her eyes, “For someone that likes to talk, you're silent.” 

“So....do you guys want ramen?”

Yoongi moved away from her at record speed and nodded his head, “Yeah, can we have what we had last time.”

Lana smirked at him and nodded his head, “Of course.” 

Yoongi wrapped his arm around Y/N’s waist and headed towards the back. He glanced down when he felt her head leaning on him. It was a nice feeling. They sat in the booth and he placed his hand on top of hers. She looked up at him with a raised eyebrow and he continued to play with her knuckles, “You want someone?” 

He felt her stiff and he looked up to see her flushed in the face, “I think everyone wants someone...to love.” 

“Have you ever been in love, Y/N?” 

She let out a small laugh and shook her head, “No...never. Have you?” 

He looked her into her eyes and smirked, “Slowly.” 

She was confused and went to open her mouth but it was stopped by ramen bowls. Lana placed the bowls and smiled, “If you guys want any drinks just let me know.”

“Thank you so much, Lana.”

Lana smiled at Y/N and winked at her, “Anything for you Bambi.”

Yoongi glared at Lana, “I’m the only one that can call her that.” 

“Yes, Mr. Min.” 

Yoongi turned back to Y/N to see her smiling as Lana left, “What’s with that smile?”

“Nothing.” 

After eating, Yoongi took her to something he never showed anyone. Not even Namjoon. The walk was long and he offered her a piggy-back ride but she denied it (with a red face). He unlocked a gate and he felt her eyes on his back but he didn’t want to ruin the surprise. He grabbed her hand and smiled, “Do you trust me?” 

“I trust you.” 

They entered the small garden and he watched her eyes brighten up at the sight. There was a variety of roses blooming with lilies in the mix. He let go of her hand and placed his hands in his pockets as he watched her go towards the flowers. He smiled when he saw the excitement in her eyes. She turned back and was shocked at the sheer amount, “What is this?” 

Yoongi leaned against the wall and took a deep sniff of the garden, “It’s the last thing I have of my parents. When they died, they left a notebook with an address and the address is this. It was their garden, they wanted......they wanted me to show someone I care about.” Someone I love...

She glanced down at the lilies and smiled, “White lilies....”

He walked towards her and picked up the flower. He placed it in her hair and she stared at him with those wide doe eyes he came accustomed to, “Purity.” 

“They can also mean rebirth...fitting for you.”

He raised his eyebrow and creased her hair, “How so?”

“You don’t even realize that you're changing with me.” 

“Everything comes naturally with you.” He picked up a purple rose and placed it in her hands, “Everything.” 

“Purple rose?”

“A purple rose, Bambi. Decipher it.” 

She glanced down at the delicate flower and then back at him, “You tell me...” 

He leaned down and their forehead touched as she kept her eyes on his. He saw her eyes craving for an answer but he was a man that didn’t talk all that much. He leaned down and placed his lips on his and he let his actions tell her. He tilted his head and she followed his actions. The kiss wasn’t sexual like how he was used to but it was like the white lilies, pure. But it was also like the purple roses, love. 

When they leaned away, he placed his forehead on hers and she looked up at him, “A tyrant that’s poetic...how rare.” 

He chuckled and creased her cheek, “What’s rare is finding someone like you.” 

He watched her enter her house and he couldn’t help but feel like a teen again. A teenager who got his first kiss. It made him want to kick his feet up in joy. He started to walk back but stopped by Y/N’s school. He walked into the yard and looked around with full caution. He heard rumors about the school and how they had cases of gang action. The rumors were about a girl named Ana Jeon. Her father is a well-known mafia leader but her mother is a famous painter. They used the mother’s job as a cover-up. He just hopes that Ana isn’t involved with Y/N in any way.

He continued to walk around the campus and his eyes landed on an opening. A door that was left open. He raised his eyebrow at this, for a rich school their security should be better. He quietly went through the door, without touching the dark wood and entered. It looked like he was in a hallway and he tilted his head. There was a light at the end of the hall. His hand immediately went to his knife as he made his way slowly. 

He overheard a familiar voice and bit his lip, “The party is in two weeks. Remember that.”

He heard an annoyed sigh as he kept his back to the wall, “Why her? Out of everyone, her?” 

“She’s a L/N. The amount of power and money she has is more than any of you, Jessica, Ana. Remember your role.”

“Whatever Eunwoo.” 

Yoongi glared at the ground and had to hold back a curse. Y/N is too involved with this case and he didn’t like it. His only job is to protect her and protecting her is what he will do. He made his way out of the hall and quickly made his way back to the headquarters. 

He slammed the door and tossed his knife on the coffee table. Everyone looked at him with confused eyes but no one dared to say anything. It wasn’t until Jin left the kitchen to stand in front of Yoongi with worried eyes, “What’s wrong?” 

Yoongi ran his fingers through his hair and looked at Jin with pure anger, “That son of bitch Eunwoo...”

Jungkook glanced at Taehyung and then back at Yoongi, “What about him? We’re still collecting information on him.” 

“He wants...” Yoongi bit his lip and for the first time, his emotions took over him. He let tears appear and looked at Jin, “He wants Y/N. I-I don’t know what he wants but he wants her....fuck he wants her.” 

Yoongi dropped to his knees as Jimin made his way towards him in worry, “Yoongi...”

Namjoon watched with a frown and looked at the rest of the team, “Taehyung, keep a close eye on Y/N. Jungkook, you're going with him in case anything happens.” 

Yoongi looked up at him and let out a mocking laugh, “Why because she’s evidence?”

“No, because my brother is in love and the woman that he's in love with is in trouble.”  

“I never said I’m in love-’

“Let’s come up with a plan.” 

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

He heard the familiar piano playing in the large music hall and he felt at ease. The delicate music sent warmth to his heart and he slowly walked towards her with a cigarette in his mouth. He let out a puff of smoke and smiled, “Your music sounds happier.” 

She turned around and smiled, “I have many reasons to be happy.”

He raised his eyebrow and leaned against the piano, “Want to tell me the reason?” 

“I think you can figure it out.” 

“Can I?” 

She rolled her eyes and let out a laugh, “If one can figure it out then another can.” 

He smirked at this and put out his cigarette under his foot. He sat next to her and glanced down at the keys, “Do you know someone named Cha Eunwoo?” 

She raised her eyebrow and nodded his head, “Sadly. I’ve known him since I was a child...why? Do you know him?”

I want to kill him, “No, I just heard his name through other people.” 

She nodded her head at this and he could tell that she did not like Eunwoo, “That makes sense. He's talked about by everyone.” 

“Why is that?”

“Rich and popular. I like his dad more, his dad is friends with mine. He was nicer and not weird at all.” 

Yoongi played two notes and then nodded his head, “Eunwoo was weird?” 

“He’s always been weird towards me. My mom wanted me to marry him because of how close he was with my dad. My dad never said no but he also never said yes. He’s always trying to capture my eyes...it’s annoying.”

Yoongi stopped playing and turned towards her with seriousness in his eyes, “Stay away from him.”

She let out a small laugh and turned towards him. Her smile dropped when she saw the seriousness in his eyes, “Is everything alright? And don’t say it's nothing, your eyes tell me otherwise.” 

“He’s trouble.” 

“I already knew that...You don’t need to tell me to do something.” 

Yoongi sighed and placed his hand on top of hers, “I know just be safe.” 

“I will.”

“That party you’ve been talking about, when is it?” 

She raised her eyebrow but answered, “It’s in two weeks. Why?”

He reached into his pocket and placed a red lily in her hand, “Y/N, I would like to be your date.” 

She laughed at this and raised her eyebrow, “It’s my event. You do realize I should be the one asking you.” 

“Never traditional.” 

“Clearly...I was going to ask you but now I don’t want to answer you.”

“Bambi.” 

She rolled her eyes and looked away from him, “I guess I’ll have you as my date.” 

“You guess?”

“Yeah, I guess. I have a question for you.” 

Yoongi turned towards the piano and started to play, “Sure.”

“Why did I see Taehyung and Jungkook near my house?”

He stopped playing abruptly and looked at her, “What do you mean?” 

“Yoongi, I saw them. I also saw them at my school. Why? Tell me the truth.” 

Yoongi bit his lip and didn’t know what to say. The truth can hurt her but a lie can be agonizing. She was the beautiful garden with the different colors and he was the fire. Everything he touches turns into ash, everything. Maybe Namjoon was right. He shouldn’t be near her because look at where she is. In a problem that could cost her life and for what for selfish reasons. If he continues to see her then he's just as selfish. He wished this was another life with no problems and it was just them. That’s all he wanted. 

He swallowed some spit and let out a small cough, “Watching just in case they come and hurt you.”

“So they're doing your job?” 

“It’s extra security for you. It makes me feel better to know they’re there when I can’t be there for you.”

She looked away and he knew that it was because she was flushed in the face, “Why?” 

“Because I will always be there for you. No matter what.” I just have to be strong enough to walk away from you when the time comes... 

Tag List:

@hopefulrascalstatesmantoad @secfir @amberpanda99

@yoongibaybee

[doraambrose]

When it comes to the Victim Blaming Grief coping one of the big things that makes it an issue is that he actually did it to Jason's face (in Hush as it was retconned to be Jason he said that too).

And, when Jason comes back it stops being grief for the dead, it becomes grief for the wounded. And people victim blame people who were hurt too. This is how they cope, however this coping mechanism always hurts the victim and is a genuinely bad coping mechanism that shouldn't be used. It's harmful. It's harmful to the victim and it is harmful for the other people who might be grieving. It's probably one of the most selfish coping mechanisms.

I've experienced people using this method in real life and it's rough. And it's toxic. Saying you can't criticize the way someone grieves is flawed because you are rarely the only one grieving and I personally have been harmed during a period of shared grief. And I am sure other people have been too because grief brings out the bad in people but that doesn't mean all is forgiven.

Like, imagine if Jason was just comatose and all the victim blaming happened and then Jason just woke up and found out all Bruce had been saying about him? Would Jason's feelings be justified then?

Also, saying the deceased person doesn't matter when they die disregards a lot of religious and spiritual beliefs around honoring the dead.

I feel like Jason is as justified as any other person harmed when someone copes with toxic way in being upset. Jason's death is also a traumatic thing that happened to him. Centering Bruce's feelings while disregarding Jason's as unjustified doesn't feel fair. Especially considering the incident where Bruce took Jason to Ethiopia to try to trigger Jason's memories of what brought him back without his consent.

(Sorry if this was a bit much, I've experienced a decent amount of the bad sides of grief in my life and feel strongly about it)

Okay, so I feel like I need to re answer my previous post because I was struggling to find the right words and also at work, but I think I've figured it out.

One thing to keep in mind is when we talk about feelings, grief, and emotions, there's not a set right or wrong. I also mentioned that I don't like the word justified in this case because it sounds like right or wrong. I did use it at the end, but I'll get into that here. This is a very gray area subject matter and that makes it tricky and you're never gonna find an answer that everyone agrees with because it's not really as fact based as if I said "batman wears a cape sometimes" or "dick grayson is nightwing".

The first thing that comes to mind for me is what my therapist tells me when I feel guilt over feelings. She would tell me "anything you're feeling is valid, you're allowed to be upset, angry, sad, jealous, etc. It's how you act on those feelings.. something I can't remember atm lol". So when I say jason isn't justified, I'm saying that he's allowed to be upset and angry and his feelings are valid, it's not right to actively take it out on the family and hold it against them and be sort of malicious or harmful. And i know theyve done that plus some towards him, but its important to remember that you can only control your own actions and even if someone is being toxic and harmful, that doesnt mean you should too. I think I didn't explain that right and there was some miscommunication. I also wanted to explain why I felt that jason would be angry.

As for this comment, both of these asks were right. Grief can be harmful and toxic. And before I say what I'm going to say next, keep in mind that I'm discussing grief alone and not any of the stuff post utrh that Bruce has done to jason that's harmful and abusive. This toxic kind of grief doesn't make the person a bad person. They can't help it. It's your brain going crazy to try and cope with something traumatic. When my dog died, I wanted to sue my vet, even though they didn't really so anything wrong. It's easier to have someone in front of you to blame. I'm not saying it's right or okay, but it does happen and it can be harmful, but you're not a bad person for it. (In Bruce's case, he's a bad person for all the other shit he's pulled outside of this)

I think these two asks are like at the opposite ends of this topic and I think it's something that you can meet in the middle with. So basically

Yes, grief can be toxic and harmful, but it's also very much a subconscious phenomenon and it's extremely personal and different for everyone and alot of times, people are unaware of what they're doing.

Because of that, jason can be hurt by it, he can be angry,etc. His feelings are valid, But it's not fair to activey hold that over Bruce forever, which he doesn't, this seems more like a fanon thing btw. But it also doesn't hurt to apologize afterwards.

I think when you say that the idea of not critiquing the way someone grieves is flawed, it comes off as unempathetic. Because as someone who has had to grieve alot of the past few years, it's the worst feeling. And your brain is literally scrambling to cope with it so you don't actively lose your shit and sometimes it ends up with some unhealthy Coping mechanisms. And you're usually unaware of what you're doing. I feel like you're not thinking of how the other person is feeling or what they're going through. And fair is fair, they need to see what you're feeling too and actively try to remedy things at some point, there just needs to be more patience and empathy all around and trying to remember that this person is not always intentionally being malicious.

I'm a religious person. So I see where youre coming from, but nobody said the deceased doesn't matter. I think the point was more that you don't have to worry as much about how that person is feeling or thinking because they've moved on to a better place, you should focus on self care and doing what's best for your mental health.

I am also 100% not trying to center around Bruce's feelings and discredit jasons, in fact, the last post was 100% about jasons feelings.

In summary, there's not "justified" or "right" or "wrong". It's super complicated, varies from person to person, and is a tricky subject matter. Everyone's feelings are valid and there definitely needs to be more empathy and patience on all sides, but there are still actions that have been made on both sides that aren't the best and can be hurtful or toxic. I hope this all makes sense and I worded it right :)

[butterflysuture]

WILL WOOD AND THE TAPEWORMS LYRIC MEME

Self

"We'll write history books from memories that we shared and will forget."

"But I heard the world would turn to hell."

"Compared to that I'm doing well."

"So I pray to God it really did."

"Well they always ask you not to leave."

"And I am as they remember me."

"So when all my friends forget my name, no I won't come back and be the same."

"And I'm gonna be my self again."

Cotard's Solution

"What if the wind caught up with me, started to change when I did?"

"Would I blow out like a light? Or like a kite fly away?"

"What if the fear of darkness gave way to the fear of color?"

"Would you live in black and white or rest your eyes through the day?'

"And if dreams can come true what does that say about nightmares?"

"I'll stay awake tonight."

"Cry my name, remind my brain of my identity."

"I'm not gonna listen."

"I'm not my volition."

"I'm free will."

"Am I to blame for riding this train right by my identity?"

"Prove I can crack loose from the track."

"It's times like this that make me wish I were dead."

"I don't wish I were dead, but somebody's gotta go!"

"I wanna make my murder look like a suicide."

"But they'll  all know the body's mine."

"I wanna go anonymous to identify."

"Divide by one and find I'm one less than the one I was."

"So how many people am I?"

"Now that I keep em in my memory."

"Check the mirror to see how I look."

"I look different in different ways."

"You do the math."

"Who's looking back?"

"That's not me."

"Carving my initials in the back of my hand in case of losing track."

"I forgot, remember to forgive?"

"I wish that I could live."

"I don't wish I could live, but somebody's gotta stay."

Mr. Capgras

"You're trying to replace yourself."

"I'm who I oughta be, and that is God to me."

"So, my god, what's wrong with me?"

"You'll never take me alive."

"You better pray that I die."

"You're never gonna find somebody to replace yourself."

"Damn, I thought you're not your imposter.'

"You're so sure you're not gonna get caught dead in your own skin."

"But you didn't choose what you were born in."

"Still the same rules apply from the birthday to the mourning.'

"What you feel and what you do, are those things really you?"

"So, my god, what's wrong with you?"

The Song With Five Names

"Why can't I see that I'm the "me" that I was born into?"

"And what's the source of you?"

"In your head and yet you believe it's true."

"Like you knew anything ever."

"Never trust in yourself or anyone else."

"We've always all been wrong."

"And we built these walls strong."

"I've been wrong before."

"You should know better than that by now."

"So don't you forget that all you project is just to protect yourself from the void within the form."

"Yes or no isn't null."

"Is it a silly question?"

"Ask it anyways."

"What we are is what we are not."

"What myths must make us man?"

"I noticed that the sunshine is a gaslight."

"I'm hoping that this one might be my past life."

"My Lord, I know enough to get my facts right."

"And that's good enough for me."

"And everything and everyone will die soon."

"And we'll have nothing left for us to lie to."

"No matter what we seek you'll never find truth."

"So give me that old time religion."

Hand Me My Shovel

"My heart was stolen by a blind pickpocket."

"And I never even saw her face."

"My heart was shattered like a stained glass window."

"But my memory could not be saved."

"It just seems unlikely that it's me who was to blame."

"I need to remember my place."

"This is not enough to prove it yet."

"I need to hit the bottom."

"Gotta get to the bottom of this."

"My soul was crushed."

"Take the road on higher ground and tell me "don't look down you'll fall and break your back!""

"But that just reminds me how there's more to be found beneath the black."

"When too much is not enough there's plenty more where that came from around."

"Looking up we see the point of entry between where we are and where we've been."

"Looking up I could say Heaven sent me."

Dr. Sunshine is Dead

"When did I become afraid of the dark?"

"Are my eyeballs just yet to adjust to seeing the light?"

"The room I'm in is still the same, the shadows have not rearranged it."

"No, the only thing that's changed is how I see at night."

"I can't change the time or dilate my irises."

"Only change what I look at, and I'm looking at myself."

"I am not the sunshine."

"I am not the moon at night."

"Well, who else could I be when I can hardly see?"

"I'm no one if I'm nowhere in-between.'

"Was it when I left the cave and swore I'd never go back?"

"If we can't see each other, then there's no more use for hiding."

"I've decided I'll abide it."

"Why deny the color black?"

"Damn my eyes for seeing what's not there."

"I'll trade in vision for a practiced intuition."

"Till my fears come to fruition, I'm not scared."

"The future must know where you've been."

"The past predicts the state you're in."

"The present did and will not last."

"All that I ask is keep those empty frames."

"If nobody's in them, then no one is to blame."

-Ish

"Well, who should I be then, if I'll never be the same?"

"Well if winter comes and takes my life, will it be the death I had in mind?"

"Will I be captured in the ice to preserve the way that I died?"

"Will I see that I was born to be the man I'll be?"

"If I change myself, can I still stay me?"

"Or did I just change my mind?"

"I am a point in time and space."

"I am the truths that I create."

"No it doesn't matter who I am."

[mangocoal01]

Ramblings I had on Metal Gear Rising and Metal Gear Solid's Differences in Gameplay & Storytelling Integration

Context: I wrote this all up while witnessing a conversation in a Discord server I'm in where two people are lamenting how Metal Gear Rising got panned and blamed it on fans of Metal Gear Solid for hating on it and that's why it'll never get a sequel. Or something to that degree. They never responded to this wall of text I made but I had fun writing it regardless just because it gave me a chance to reflect on my experience with the Metal Gear series. It's not very structured or cohesive but I just like talking about games I enjoy/enjoyed in the past that made me feel things (in a good way). Wall of Text commence: Gonna play a bit of devil's advocate as someone who enjoys the mainline Metal Gear games AND Metal Gear Rising while also sharing my own thoughts. Long messages and yapping ahead because I'm passionate.

TL;DR Alot of Metal Gear fans probably didn't enjoy the massive transition of gameplay-styles and the approach to MGRR's storytelling since it's pretty different from MGS1-4 in those aspects (and some others) esp. because of the legacy it was following up on.

Disclaimers: 

- I don't regularly interact with the Metal Gear fanbase in whatever form that may take like subreddits or speedrunning communities or whatnot. I just like Metal Gear in general and got into it around my later teenage years.

- I played MGS2, 3, 4, Peace Walker, Ground Zeroes, and Phantom Pain. I never got around to playing the entirety of Metal Gear 1 and 2 on the MSX OR Metal Gear Solid 1. I also haven't played any spin-offs like Metal Gear Ac!d or Portable Ops. 

- I don't regularly like interacting with haters or people complaining about games people enjoy anymore. It's just kind of tiring & repetitive for me at this point. So I don't see many of the interactions you're discussing but I can easily see it occurring. Still, discourse and hate in swaths of anonymous online non-faces is what I expect at this point so I try not to get caught up in complaining about other people's complaining, if I can catch myself beforehand. I don't like engaging with large groups or people not open to hearing out other arguments in good faith. I can enjoy engaging in discussion with an individual who actually wants to have a back-and-forth argument, not someone who wants me to be their pillow to scream in and tell me I'm wrong (often alongside some unflattering labels & name-calling), no matter what I say.

- I'd just like to say my piece here because I like adding wrinkles and contributing an additional perspective on the subject.

I like MGRR but I can easily see why it would rub some people the wrong way esp. if they were deeply invested in the mainline Metal Gear games' storylines.  The jump from stealth-action hybrid to high-octane character action combat can be jarring for many and holds different gameplay appeals in their pacing, APM, spectacle, & tone. Many people would've been used to the series being a stealth-action hybrid game for many years and would likely be in their mid to late 20s by the timing MGRR came out if they hopped on MGS1/MGS2 in their early teens, if we're being generous about how early they got into the series. Change and adaptation for new things gets harder & inconvenient for alot of people esp. as they get older and their brains get less malleable like impressionable, fast-learning kids/teens' are.

Not to mention, while Metal Gear as a franchise has always delved into some over-the-top goofy AF anime shit and melodramatic storytelling (it's part of why many love it), Rising definitely amps it up to 11 in at least the action sequences' intensity (which I like btw, don't get me wrong) & how it executes the story it wants to tell. The tone is in-line with the past games but it's a lot more intense and wild about it; plus, arguably, it's even more cartoony than the even hammiest moments of the MGS entries. Whether this is an improvement, just fine and make no difference, or downright irritating for some is dependent on the individual person, their tastes, and why they enjoyed the older games' storytelling. No accounting for taste. But either way, something was different and it didn't click with everyone the same way, for better or worse.

This also ties in with the story direction and the gameplay of MGRR, and how it goes about resolving the dissonance between the hyper-violent action & the series' common anti-war & killing and the action-heavy gameplay that often calls for it. MGS1 (not including the Twin Snakes Gamecube remake) didn't have a tranquilizer gun so you couldn't exactly do a no-kill run of that game but you could for the sequels afterwards. But even then, a large part of the story was about questioning & often condemning the violent killing of others and even taking a sadistic joy in it. The game's story was simultaneously talking about both Snake and the player (OooOoooOOooOOoH....meta commentary!). But anyway, even when the player/the main character kills even the most generic enemies, the game's framing, storytelling, and gameplay options make a point to emphasize there's a cost to killing, an inhumanity to it, a sort of dark stain on your record as the player, along with the character. You're often encouraged not to fight to begin with in modes like European Extreme difficulty, where it just says "Game Over" the moment you're detected, for example. Not to mention, the games often rewarded you for not killing the guards or non-essential NPCs, a lot of in-game tactics, rankings, item rewards, etc. tied into such things.

Anyway, I'm getting a bit off-topic from Metal Gear Rising Revengeance but I wanted to re-establish a bit of groundwork on the general tone & messaging of the franchise. In short, the Metal Gear franchise's story has always been rooted in anti-war sentiment & that killing is generally not a good thing you should do willy-nilly or be very proud about. I don't believe most people will find that reading highly disagreeable. And to its credit, MGRR also strongly attempts to adhere to this idea in its storytelling. However, the big thing that rubs some people the wrong way about it, is how it goes about addressing the dissonance between what is conveyed in the story and what is conveyed in the actual gameplay design. And believe me, a lot of people are deeply invested in the story of Metal Gear, esp. the Metal Gear Solid titles.

MGRR Story Context: Raiden repeatedly, in his dialogue in the first half of the game at least, makes a general point that he only kills because he has to in order to save innocent lives, stop bad guys, and all that. It's not something he's doing for fun or for its own pleasurable sake. His simplistic justification and viewpoint on his own violence is challenged by Sam when the latter essentially shows Raiden that the mercs he has been killing are also people too with reasonable motives, loving families, and very human struggles. Desperado, the source of villains and mooks in this story, essentially exploits poor & vulnerable people, esp. veterans, to be their "human shields", as Raiden snaps back at Monsoon later. Eventually, Raiden chooses to deal with this inner conflict by giving into his dormant sadistic joy of killing which seems to get him out of the brief depressive funk he was in after realizing he was killing soldiers who maybe weren't complete scumbags by fair choice. And for the rest of the game, he gets a power-up form out of it and he continues his mission to save child brains and stop the next big war.

ANYWAY, how does this work in tandem with the gameplay of Rising? And how does Metal Gear Rising's answer compare to how Metal Gear Solid games address the weight of killing? Well, to state the obvious, the game very much rewards and even encourages, to a degree, wanton violence & killing with the Zandatsu healing mechanic, the over-the-top QTE animations, the ranking system, Blade Mode finishers kinda prompting the player to just ham with the slicing & dicing for the final blow on many bosses, etc. 

Tangent: Yes, I'm aware of the wooden sword that you can use to potentially non-lethally defeat human enemies with but it's an optional unlockable weapon and even then, its use is not actively encouraged by the game's enemy/level design or mechanics within the actual battles themselves outside of a post-fight ranking bonus that congrats you for not killing people; it's kind of like the post-endgame ranking screens of the MGS games in that factor, at least. But regardless, I don't think most people would say playing the game using the low-damage wooden sword was the most fun way to play MGRR, let alone the most encouraged.

To oversimplify my main point here, there's an odd contrast between the story's "killing is cruel and bad" and the gameplay's self-indulgent "KILLING IS FUCKING AWESOME AND BADASS" (to oversimplify things) that probably rubs some people the wrong way esp. in the context of previous entries in the franchise's history. And there's more flattering interpretations of this dynamic that can put this juxtaposition in a more positive light, I'm sure, but it's usually not the kind of thing people bring up or explain in-depth. Most arguments just boil down to, "Ugh, the game is so hypocritical and confused on what it wants to be" followed by someone countering, "I DON'T CARE HE THREW A METAL GEAR!!!! YOU JUST CAN'T PULL THE STICK OUT OF YOUR ASS!" And then cue the name-calling, lack of media literacy accusations, and insults to each others' pretentiousness and/or simple-mindedness. Plus, sprinkle in some "Who cares about story, we skip the cutscenes on the second playthrough anyway"-sentiments and  "Metal Gear's story was never good to begin with and you're dumb for liking it"-type arguments ad-nauseam for years.

My personal thoughts on the matter is that MGGRR's story works well enough for me and I enjoy it, even if I personally feel Raiden's story should've ended with MGS4 (and the series in general tbh). A hopeful ending and cathartic resolution after so much strife & struggle for our characters. But I also understand companies like money and finished products so I understand why Konami & Kojima Productions hired Platinum Games & gave them more creative freedom to make it a sequel post-MGS4 instead of working a story within the confines of a prequel that takes place between 2 and 4. 

Also, I like the gameplay too. How it handles QTE animations, music, timing of said music tracks, fast-paced gameplay, is still some of the coolest shit I've seen in games. Plus, I know the mixed-messaging is weird but, I enjoy the game as a whole, regardless. I am kind of just used to videogame-storytelling compromises at this point so it rarely bothers me too much, even in the most egregious cases for many, e.g. "You utterly dominate the enemy in gameplay but you lose in the cutscene"-scenario. I just shrug my shoulders and think, "That's mildly eyebrow-raising but those are the kind of idiosyncrasies one should expect in the average game." I'm used to it and have accepted it.

[so-long-soldier-writes]

Author about the body swap thing I wanted to ask for headcannons but I accidentally wrote fic lmaoo. Please do whatever u are comfortable with. Yoh know everyones gonna eat it up everything and anything u write coz u are such a godsend and so good at writing it

Awwhhh, you're so sweet!! Thank you! 🩷🩷 I have taken literally FORVER to type this up, and to be honest, I've been brainstorming it, and then in the last hour, FINALLY found my words! I'm no good at body swap, so I hope this is kinda what you were looking for, but if not, I can take another stab at it 😅

SO i have two thoughts in mind about this - a body swap where you're just friends-ish / mutuals, but also one where you're in an established relationship

also, this post is kinda all over the place, and i'm so sorry for that, lmao, idk what happened

i'll try to organize my thoughts

~ FRIENDS / MUTUALS ~

admittedly, i read some body swap fics on ao3 prior to writing this, just to get the idea, but my brain will always go back to the episode of supernatural where some kid switched bodies with Sam

can you imagine a spell going wrong and one day you wake up ~biologically~ where you're not supposed to be?? like wtf

like imagine kai was doing a spell - maybe a complicated gemini spell he didn't understand, or a love attracting spell (bc he has a crush on you) type spell, or maybe he's just fucking around, or maybe he's not to blame and someone else cursed him, OR, maybe, YOU fucked around

either way, you wake up the next day to a huge problem, bc you know him, but not that well, and now you gotta fix it

[a bit of heretic!kai]

ooh ooh imagine one of the heretics, or even lily, did the spell to get back at you both

or maybe mary louise knows you have a crush on him so she takes matters into her own hands

or lily's just stale that kai won't listen to her and stay in the house, so she did it to fuck with him

~ back to the main thoughts ~

no matter how it happened, it happened

you wake up totally not in your body and it takes you a minute to determine who's you have

and the horror / excitement / confusion you feel when you realize kai is in yours is unmatched

i mean… he's cute… the urge is explore is STRONG, but you can't do that without consent

and kai is facing the same issue

but you do have to look at each other?? yourselves?? to get dressed, so you both allow a little sneak peak as you do that, but that's IT

then, as soon as you're ready and build a bit of confidence to confront the situation, you're both out to find each other

if kai did the spell bc of a love spell gone wrong, he's gonna be a hot mess

trying not to stutter, no eye contact, shuffling feet, biting his lip

if he did it on accident trying another spell, he'll be nervous, but more capable of explaining the mess; "it was a 2 person spell; i thought with luke i could; i'm looking for a solution"

if someone else cursed you both, you'd meet up with ???'s dancing in your heads

aware you're definitely in each other's bodies but having no clue what to do about it

[switched by someone else / swapped as a curse or payback]

can you imagine?? if you're cursed, and it becomes a multi-day thing as you try to figure out whodunnit??

you spend all day together narrowing down your list of vengeful enemies, trying out reversal spells, siphoning magic from yours to his, but never finding a solution

and then by the end of the day, you get this really weird feeling and you don't want to be separated from your own damn body, so kai sleeps on your couch and you take to your bed

but even that distance feels weird, so he ends up in your bed and your hands are touching, and maybe your legs are tangled just a bit

and when you wake up, you're still in each other's bodies, so it's upsetting, but also a relief that you have each other's, and your body didn't do a second jump overnight??

at some point, you tried calling your old friend, kol, who had been body swapped before, but his situation was very different

he kept dying and that's why he jumped twice, but his mother might have some answers if they read her grimoire

so you borrow the big old dusty ass book and kai eventually manages to undo the spell

but after that, kol is very adamant about the dangerous gemini not having any access to his family's magic, to which you can agree is valid, and kai thinks is "fair"

besides, covens are very particular about grimoires being in their own families, so kai can understand his concern

so the book is dutifully returned without kai having anymore access to it

when your curser learns you reversed the spell, they're not happy, but don't try again

kai is already gemini, and now you're working with mikaelsons, and you're already close with kol, and now kai, too, by working so close to him and sharing his literal body and sleeping with him bc it feels weird to not sleep with your own body, so the curser doesn't try again

but they are stale af for the rest of their life

but not stupid enough to try again

[plain, old, experimentative, backfired spell]

if kai's own dumb spell backfired and switched you, he'll come clean about it quickly

he'd probably be so nonchalant about it, but secretly screaming inside

and then you ofc don't know a reversal, so you spend all day with him looking for one

maybe you can't find one, so you're forced to call his dad

his dad berates him over the phone so strongly, and gives you a little insight to what his childhood may have been like

you feel some sympathy for the kid, and get why he felt the need to become the leader so bad // to feel some control over his domineering father

once you get unswitched, you force him into a conversation about how you want to be friends with him; how the situation helped you understand him better; how you've actually really liked spending time with him... but would like to do that in your own body

after some hesitation, bc he doesn't trust easily, he agrees

explaining to your friends that an unexpected body swap led to your friendship raises some eyebrows, but you're confident in your decision to befriend kai

you both could use a friend, and hey, maybe it'll help to have him in the long-run with MF drama

[love spell gone wrong]

poor guy just wanted a perfume-equivalent spell, or a little extra added charm, or something like that, but instead he swapped your fucking bodies

the process of working out this accident occur much like the previous backfired spell, except kai doesn't know how to admit his original intent, and therefore, doesn't

it isn't until you actually ask what he was trying to do, once you're already unswitched, that he blurts it out without meaning to

but all is well, as you admit a little crush of your own on the siphon, but had no clue how to admit it

from there, you kind of start as friends that kiss each other, but as trust grows, so does your relationship

his confidence grows, too, and he gets less shy

one morning that you've covered ~many bases~, he stands proud in your kitchen and finally admits, "yeah, that body swap was bc i had a crush on you; it didn't go as planned, but worked out just the same"

and just maybe it's that moment that you realize you love his dorky ass self

[YOU had the backfired spell]

if you fucked around, that would be even crazier than anything he did, because no one, i feel, would be expecting it

like everyone can see kai doing some weird shit where bodies end up swapped, but if witch!reader is fucking around and manages to get into his body (lmao), questions WILL be asked

but imagine doing the walk of shame to wherever he lives, and having to explain to him the reason he feels all weird inside is because of a spell you did

and then you have to go through the whole ordeal of finding out what exactly happened, what to do about it, and where tf to go from there

because honestly, you can't live a day in someone else's body and then just ... move on ...

like no, he's attached after that, whether for better or for worse (it's for better, you know it)

but in a situation where you fucked around (and certainly found out), kai would find it so fucking funny

the whole town would manage to find out bc that's just your luck, and anyone who's not incredibly worried for you (jo, bonnie, liv, stefan), is laughing their ass off (damon, caroline, enzo) but none of them are helping bc wtf are they supposed to do??

so you debate calling a mikaelson or a far-away parker father, but kai doesn't like either of those options and votes instead to check gemini grimoires or, y'know, play the guessing game

maybe in his guessing game, siphoning the magic out of both of you does work (and then you take a three day nap [together] out of exhaustion)

or maybe he happens to have a spell that works and you're so grateful for the effort that you propose dinner or cocktails or something, but kai decides instead that he'd rather have you as someone he can trust, since now you REALLY KNOW EACH OTHER and he doesn't think you'll betray him after that

maybe you then admit that the reason you think you got swapped is because your crush-clouded mind had been thinking of him all day, and at the time of the spell

so now, with this new information, he's certainly not letting you walk off and pretend this never happened

nope, you're stuck with him for life now

~ ESTABLISHED RELATIONSHIP ~

ever since he became coven leader, you've been helping kai learn new spells & adapt to all his new magic and all that

lots of gemini spells require 2 people, but even tho you're not gem witch, you're trying your best to help him

and that's when, this time, it backfired, and switched your bodies

it's like polyjuice potion on steroids, how you look like him but feel like yourself, and he looks like you but feels like himself immediately, you tried to reverse it, but efforts were futile

after wondering for a moment about wtf to do, eventually you decide you'd have to go to jo or his father to get help

you both picked jo, buuuut she's at the hospital on a shift until late so you gotta get through the day as each other

you had made plans for lunch with your friends, but they hate kai, so not wanting to tell them about the swap (they're hesitant about you dating already), nor being allowed to cancel (per caroline), kai has to manage being you throughout the hour

and when kai usually goes to chill with damon for that hour, you have to pretend to be him, but mostly because explaining the situation to damon seems like a headache you can't handle

ofc, when you get into your right bodies, this might be a fun story to tell someday, but right now, it's not

now, you both have to handle each others' lunch dates, and it is not something you're looking forward to doing

in kai's situation, caroline immediately noticed something was up, but kai's a good liar. elena was none the wiser and rambled on and on for twenty minutes about med school, but in that meantime, bon picked up on kai-ish and certainly not y/n-ish habits, too

granted, the two of you have grown so close you're beginning to share habits, but some things are so recognizable to the individual that bonnie has doubts

through the solid skill of gaslighting, kai makes his way through lunch, but you're struggling through your lunch

unfortunately, you do not share your bf's ability to down three cocktails and not trip over your bar stool when you get up for the bathroom, nor do you have the same habit of rolling up every paper straw wrapper you have and flicking it across the table, and nor are you able to lie as well as he is, when damon and ric ask, "wtf is wrong with you"

and after a moment of staring and prodding, and the realization that ric will find out anyway, then tell damon, you cave and tell them both what happened

damon, ofc, begins to study you like a bug

ric is apprehensive and scoots back in his seat

eventually, you get away from their grasp and meet up back with kai

the girls go one way and you and him go the other

you manage to avoid them for much of the rest of the day by returning home and studying spells

you try a couple that might be able to reverse the one, but you refrain from doing too much; both of you are afraid of making it worse

kai tries to siphon it out of you, but that doesn't work, either

finally, in the evening, jo and ric show up and try to help

jo finds a spell that could work, but… she needs another witch

liv refuses

ric refuses to involve bonnie

so jo calls their father to handle it

over the phone, after chiding kai for fooling around, he helps jo with a spell that will unswap you

the switch itself is rather visceral and a bit painful

but it works

he hangs up after one more chiding, then jo and ric scold you as well, then they finally leave

you and kai don't practice spells for some time after that

or, at least, you stick to anything with latin that you can for sure translate

the next time he goes to portland, he'll take a grimoire that'll help him understand some of the more difficult spells -- and their reversals

because while the whole ordeal wasn't bad, it was just weird

and certainly something you'd like to avoid

~ now, for a smidge of nsfw ~ mostly for established relationship kai, but can be for friends that turn into relationships, too

despite the whole ordeal being a lowkey mess, if you were to find a solution that didn't involve his dad, kai would be hella tempted into talking you in to trying it again just for ~fun~

one, bc he had some fun messing with care and bon

but even more so, bc he wonders what sex is like in that situation

i think we can all agree, kai has a little NPD mixed in with his ASPD, so sex with the self is something that would be at least a bit intriguing

plus he's just so curious about everything

and being able to feel what you're feeling is so motivating for him

he's both curious and wants to make sure he's doing a good job

it'll be half cheat sheet, half check mark that he's giving you what you need / deserve, and half straight up curiosity

so if the opportunity presented itself, he'd totally body swap again

but he needs to know there's a spell to undo it, too, bc he quite likes his own self