#and got stuck on a sad one....

[nothingwronghere]

[cenvast]

"Toshiro Is Sexist," "Toshiro Owns Slaves": What's Really Going on With This Guy?

I've seen a lot of debate on whether or not Toshiro is problematic because he's a slave owner or because he's sexist in the context of his crush on Falin. While I do want to examine his relationship to Falin, I'd like to take a few steps back and unpack his upbringing first. We'll dive into the gender and class dynamics he was raised with and how it impacts his behavior in the main storyline.

Like all people, Toshiro is shaped by the environment he grew up in. Toshitsugu, Toshiro's father and the head of the Nakamoto clan, is the most impactful model of authority and manhood in his life. Toshiro does recognize some of his father's flaws and tries to avoid replicating them. But whether or not he emulates or subverts his father's behavior, Toshitsugu is often the starting point for Toshiro's treatment of others, particularly marginalized people.

The Nakamoto clan exists under a patriarchal hierarchy with Toshitsugu at the top. As noted by @fumifooms in their Nakamoto household post, his wife has more authority than Maizuru. She's able to ban Maizuru from parts of their residence, but despite disliking his infidelity, she can't divorce him or stop him from cheating on her. Their marriage is not an equal partnership.

On an interpersonal level, Toshitsugu and Maizuru also have a fraught relationship. While she does seem to care for him, she's often frustrated by his thoughtless behavior.

For example, he drunkenly buys Izutsumi for her — without considering how she'll have to raise this child — and invades her room in the middle of the night. When he cryptically says, "It's all my fault," she replies, "I can think of a lot of things that are your fault." She calls him an "idiot" and "believes that [Toshiro] will grow up to be a better clan leader than his father," implying that she takes issue with Toshitsugu's leadership.

Because Maizuru and Toshitsugu are described as being "in an intimate relationship" and "seem[ing] to be lovers," Maizuru appears to be a consensual participant. Still, this doesn't negate the large power imbalance between them as a male noble clan leader and his female retainer. This imbalance introduces an insidious undertone to Maizuru's frustration with Toshitsugu. Like Toshiro's mother, Maizuru doesn't have the agency to do as she pleases in their relationship; he has the ultimate authority. For instance, she doesn't seem to want to raise Izutsumi, but she has to anyway.

While Maizuru's role as Toshitsugu's mistress is significant, she's also the Nakamoto clan's teacher and Toshiro's primary maternal figure. She cares deeply for Toshiro: tailing him, feeding him, and taking responsibility even for his actions as an adult. While it might seem sweet that she cares for him like a son at first, Maizuru was notably fifteen years old at the time of his birth. In the extra comic below, he's six years old and has already been in her care for some time. Even if we're being generous and assuming that she didn't start raising him until he was six, she was still only twenty-one at the time she was parenting her boss/lover's child with another woman.

Maizuru's roles as mistress and maternal figure, in addition to her role as retainer, demonstrate the intersection between gendered and class oppression in the Nakamoto household. Despite her original role being a retainer trained in espionage, Toshitsugu presses her into performing gendered labor for him and eventually, Toshiro. She's expected to be Toshitsugu's lover, perform emotional labor for him as his confidant, care for his child, and carry out domestic tasks like cooking. She says, "Even during missions, I was often dragged into the kitchen." If she was a male servant, I doubt she would have been expected to perform these additional tasks. She can't avoid these tasks either, stating that her "own feelings don't factor into it."

Toshitsugu disregards his wife's and Maizuru's desires and emotions to serve his own interests. Because he has societal power over them as a nobleman and in Maizuru's case, her master, neither woman can escape their position in the household hierarchy.

As a result, Toshiro grew up within a structure where men and male nobility, in particular, wield the most societal power. The hierarchical nature of his household and society discourages everyone, including him as a clan leader's eldest son, from questioning and disrupting the existing hierarchy.

The other Nakamoto household members also internalize its sexist, classist power dynamics.

For example, Hien expects that she and Toshiro will replicate the uneven dynamics of the previous generation, regardless of her personal feelings. She sees her and Toshiro's relationship as paralleling Maizuru and Toshitsugu's relationship; she is the closest woman to Toshiro and his retainer, so she's shocked when Toshiro doesn't attempt to begin an intimate relationship with her. Notably, she doesn't have actual feelings for him. Her expectations are centered around the household's precedent of placing emotional, sexual, domestic, and child-rearing labor onto the female servants without any regard for their personal desires.

Hien also probably knows that her position in the household will improve if she is Toshiro's lover because she's seen it improve Maizuru's position. However, the fact that being the future clan leader's lover is the closest proximity she, as a female servant, has to power further reveals the gendered, class-based oppression she and the other women live under.

It's important to note that the Nakamoto clan bought Benichidori, Izutsumi, and Inutade as slaves, so they have less power and agency than Maizuru and Hien. The clan further dehumanizes Izutsumi and Inutade as demi-humans; their enslavement contains an additional layer of racialization.

Toshiro isn't oblivious to the gendered, class, and racial power dynamics of his household. He tries to distance himself from participating in its exploitative power structure. He walls himself off from Hien, who he's known since childhood, to avoid replicating his father's behavior and making his servant into his lover. He disapproves of his father's enslavement of Izutsumi and Inutade, and he lets Izutsumi go when she runs away in the Dungeon.

But does any of this absolve him of his complicity in his household's sexist, classist power dynamics and racialized slavery?

The short answer is absolutely not.

Despite his distaste for his father's exploitation of his servants and slaves, Toshiro still uses them. He refers to his party as "his retainers," and he has them fight and perform domestic tasks for him. You could argue that Toshiro doesn't like to and thus, doesn't regularly use his servants and slaves. In the context of him asking his retainers to help him rescue Falin, Maizuru says, "The only time he ever made any sort of personal request was for this task." But it shouldn't matter whether exploitation is a regular occurrence or not for it to be considered harmful. Toshiro asking Maizuru to cook him a meal still constitutes asking his female servant to perform gendered labor for him. He's also very accustomed to her grooming and dressing him.

Maizuru sees feeding, washing, and even advising Toshiro romantically as fulfilling Toshitsugu's orders to care for his son. They aren't fulfilling a "personal request." But just because her labor has been deemed expected and thereby devalued doesn't mean that it isn't labor or that she isn't performing it.

Maizuru's dynamic with Toshiro is also complicated by her role as his maternal figure. She loves him and wants to take care of him, and she doesn't have a choice in the matter. During Toshiro's childhood, the onus was on Toshitsugu to cease exploiting his lover and release her from servitude, but Toshiro is now an adult man. Seeing as how Maizuru defers to his wishes and calls him "Young Master," they still have a power imbalance that he's passively maintaining. Ideally, he would not ask anything of her until he has the authority to release her from servitude.

Throughout the story, Toshiro acts as if he has no agency and quietly disapproving of his father's actions absolves him of his participation in maintaining oppressive dynamics. While his father still ranks higher than him, he's essentially his father's heir. He has much more power than Maizuru, the highest-ranked servant. At the very least, he could leave his slave-owning household.

Unfortunately, his refusal to confront injustice is consistent with his character's major flaw: he does not express his opinions, desires, or needs. While this character trait obviously hurts his friendships, it also furthers his complicity in the injustices his household runs on.

Toshiro's relationship with eating food — the prevailing metaphor of the series — also parallels his relationship with confronting injustice. Maizuru mentions that he was a sickly child, so the act of eating may have been physically uncomfortable for him. As an adult, his refusal to eat crops up during his rescue attempt of Falin. Denying himself food might have been punishment for not accomplishing important tasks like rescuing Falin and/or a way to maintain control over something in his life when he felt like he'd lost control over the rest of it, again in the context of losing Falin. (Note: I suggest reading this post on Toshiro's disordered eating by @malaierba.)

But he cannot and does not avoid consuming food forever.

Similarly, Toshiro keeps his distance from his retainers and tries not to use them until the Falin situation occurs. His efforts to avoid exploiting his retainers amount to inaction — things he doesn't ask of them or do to them. But his inaction does nothing to dismantle the existing hierarchy that places his retainers under his authority, denies them agency, and often marginalizes them as not only servants or slaves but as women, and he ends up using them as servants and slaves anyways.

Returning to the narrative's themes of consumption, Toshiro cannot avoid eating just as he cannot avoid perpetuating the exploitative system of his household. The Nakamoto clan consumes the labor and personhood of those lower in the hierarchy. The retainers' labor as spies and domestic servants is the foundation of the clan's existence. Thus, the clan consumes their labor to sustain itself.

Within this hierarchy, the retainers' personhood is also consumed and erased. As Izutsumi describes, they are given different names and stripped of their agency to reject orders or leave. Maizuru and Hien also say their feelings are irrelevant in the context of Toshitsugu's and Toshiro's wants and needs. Both women are expected to comply with whatever is most beneficial and comfortable for the noblemen. Clearly, despite Toshiro's detachment from his household's functions, these social structures remain in place and harm the women under him.

Although we know the Nakamoto clan has male retainers, the choice to highlight the female retainers seems intentional. We're asked to interrogate how not only being a servant or a slave in a noble household impacts a person's life and agency, but how being a woman intersects with being a member of some of the lowest social classes.

Toshiro only distances himself from his father's behaviors of infidelity and exploitation so long as it doesn't take Toshiro out of his comfort zone. He doesn't free his slaves. He's far too comfortable with his female retainers performing domestic labor for him, and he barely acknowledges their efforts; they're shocked when he thanks them for helping him save Falin. He hasn't unpacked his sexist (or classist or racist) biases because he perpetuates his household's oppressive hierarchy throughout the narrative. Considering all of this, he inevitably brings this baggage to his interactions with Falin.

Falin is presumably one of the first women he's had extended contact with that isn't his relative or his family's servant. Because of his trauma surrounding his father and Maizuru sleeping together, he understandably falls for a woman as disconnected as possible from his father and his clan. He seems to genuinely like Falin, respects her boundaries, and graciously accepts her rejection. His behavior towards her is overall kind and unproblematic.

But if Falin had gone with him, she would've likely been devalued and sidelined like the other women of the Nakamoto household. No matter how much he loves Falin, simply loving her cannot replace the difficult work of unlearning his sexism. Love, of course, can and should be accompanied by that work, but by the close of the narrative, we gain little indication that Toshiro acknowledges or seeks to end his part in exploiting and devaluing women and other marginalized people.

A spark of hope does exist. Toshiro expressing his feelings to Laios and Falin suggests that his time away from home has encouraged him to speak up more. Breaking his habit of avoidance may be the first step towards acknowledging his complicity in systems of injustice and moving towards dismantling them.

Special thanks to my very smart friend @atialeague for bringing up Toshitsugu's relationship with Maizuru and the replication of dynamics of consumption and class! <3

[amphibianaday]

how long have you been aware of Atul from spirit farer?

day 1532 this is obviously just an excuse to draw him again (referenced straight from an ingame screenshot) i've been passivley aware of him for a while. i'm pretty sure someone requested him and i intended to draw him and just forgot actively aware - about a week, since i started playing the game myself :)

[archivebottles]

a bunch of oc stuff that ive been working on this past week

[littlesmartart]

here's a scribbly modern au Xiao Xingchen who saved me from artist's block last summer 🤍

[sciderman]

howard the duck (1976) #10

[scammydoesstuff]

Been a minute since I've been able to draw or even post anything. And that's cuz I've been busy af with a job that's been slowly killing me for the last 8 months. But it's all good; I'm actually leaving that shithole at the end of the week. Yay! Maybe that means I can open up commissions again since I'll actually have time for them? Who's to say...

Anyway! Had a rough weekend at Fan Expo Chicago last week, and I've kinda had this in mind to draw ever since my disappointing interaction with Neil Newbon. He was very nice, but it felt pretty clear that he only really cared about Astarion. And, like, to a degree I get it? Astarion seems like a cool character that means a lot to a lot of people, but to act like no one cares anymore about Resident Evil Village cuz it's an "older game" (his words, not mine), kinda killed my mood for the weekend. Not to mention coming back with COVID. That was also a bummer...

*I* still love Heisenberg, at least. And if I'm the only one, then so be it. ❤️‍🩹

[omppupiiras]

I had an idea for cornpea Käärijä:

What if he wanted to go into botanical studies to find out where he comes from, and he sprouts grains and legumes in the kitchen and looks at them through a magnifying glass to see if the sprouts on his arm when he was a baby look anything like it? :´)

I´m sure you have enough ideas as it is but I can´t stop thinking about it and wanted to know what you thought of it <3

is he trying to grow himself some friends or planning to have a snack? hmmmm...

(peanuary day 25)

[telomirage]

before 🤎🖤 and after 🪲🌱🌿🥬💚

[ghostinthegallery]

Re-reading Twice Dead King, the character I was most struck by on a second viewing was Mentep. Now there’s a tragic figure. Simultaneously a mentor, an ally, an antagonist, someone so terribly understandable who I want to smack upside the head for being a lying liar who lies.

Ultimately, Mentep is a penitent. He has committed terrible acts (that we only get scant details of) and he wants to redeem himself. Thanks to his tampering with his own memories, he doesn't fully know what he is repenting for, which puts him in a bind. However, he knows that he played a role in creating the flayer curse/longing sickness, so he goes to a planet where a high concentration of them have gathered and works on his cure. He's respected, he's able to do his work with only occasional interruptions from the local angsty youth. Things are good-ish (until the armada shows up.)

Mentep and Oltyx have a weird relationship. Despite being his normal asshole-teenager self, Oltyx does respect Mentep more than most. Trusts Mentep enough to let the guy perform experimental brain surgery on him. Twice. And Mentep is able to be much more candid with Oltyx in return. He's one of the few consistently calling Oltyx out for his bullshit. On the surface, it is a standard mentor relationship, but what got me on a second reading is that there is hardly a single conversation Mentep has with Oltyx where he isn’t lying to and/or manipulating him.

It starts early with Yenekh. Mentep knows Yenekh has been suffering from the curse, he hasn’t told Oltyx, and when he finally has to tell him, he conveniently does so right before distracting everyone with the “oh btw, we’re all gonna die to a giant human armada” news. This is done with the best of intentions. Mentep wants to protect Yenekh (and Oltyx, in his way), so he delivers the news this way to get the bad news out of the way and then both of them on the same side. But it is the start of a pattern.

Which we get again when Mentep fails to mention a that Antikef is a flayer den ruled by a “We have Illuminor Szeras at home” Vizier, and boy does that end badly for Oltyx (see the last 60% of Ruin). Naturally, Mentep has a good explanation:

But it is another lie, one that costs Oltyx dearly (put a pin in this, I am coming back to it.)

There's some little fibs and ommissions along the way as they go to Carnotite, but it all builds up to The Big Lie. The one that sends Oltyx spiraling and gets Mentep killed. Because you know what really helps with paranoia? Finding out your mentor and your best friend have been hiding a secret blood pit in your basement! Again, it makes sense why Mentep is lying about this! He has every reason to believe Oltyx would have rejected the flayed ones he and Yenekh were sheltering (he in fact does exactly this), and Mentep's entire goal is to cure the curse to atone for his role in its creation. However...

I think Oltyx is correct to call Mentep out here (Oltyx is wrong about most things, but not this). Somewhere a long the way he became a means to an end for Mentep. Mentep was focused on The Curse and not the person in front of him who was cursed. He used Oltyx's friendship with Yenekh, his need to save his kingdom, his trust, his fears, all in service of admirable goals, but he was using Oltyx. Is it any wonder this is where it ended?

The lies were Mentep's undoing from the start. Remember the lie about Antikef? The one that led to all the events of Ruin? Yes, Oltyx and Djoseras did talk and avoid a civil war, but Oltyx also went through hell. He saw his home turned into an abbattoir, his father reduced to barely more than an animal. Oltyx was literally vivisected and almost consumed by his own dysphoria. And then committed regicide after leaving his brother behind to die. Antikef is where Oltyx truly learned that compassion was weakness and saw how horrific the flayer curse could become. So how was he ever going to accept the flayed ones as Mentep wanted him to? Oltyx experienced the comically perfect combination of traumas to ensure that would never happen, thanks in part to Mentep's manipulations.

I cannot stress enough that Mentep's individual lies all made sense at the time. May have even been the best option, at the time. But the consequences piled up, and even as he is dying he still refuses to give Oltyx even a scrap of the truth. That is the core of his tragedy for me. Well, that and this:

He bases all of his manipulations on his understanding of people's psyche's, which are usually accurate, but it also traps them. It gives them no room to grow or surprise him or for outside factors to come in and intervene. Contrast this with Zultanekh, who is upfront to a fault. He gives Oltyx advice and resources, but what Oltyx does with those things is up to him. Even when he is screwing up royally, he's allowed to make those mistakes. Mentep causes ones of Oltyx's darkest hours (the secret blood pit), while Zultanekh lifts him out of another (the Blood Angel's attack). In the end, Zultanekh is the one who sees Oltyx's true growth and witnesses the birth of his kingdom. A birth that comes not from curing the curse but embracing it.

There was never a sickness to be fixed, which means Mentep never would have achieved his redemption because he was focused on the wrong things. Which does make his death and rebirth as Xott a bit of a reflection of Oltyx. He was too burdened in his first life, but in his second he (or at least a version of him) was able to witness the people he hurt reaching a place of peace.

[wikiangela]

wip wednesday

tagged by @jesuisici33 @callaplums @daffi-990 @loserdiaz @thewolvesof1998 @disasterbuckdiaz @fortheloveofbuddie 💖💖

made a bit of progress on the sick fic so here it is🤷

prev snippet

___

“Maybe we should get you to a doctor.” Buck muses, wrapping the blanket over Eddie’s shoulders.

“I don’t need- I just closed my eyes for a second. I’m fine.” he grumbles, fumbling with the blanket too long to want to actually throw it off, but he does in the end – he’s cold and refuses to admit it, and he’d rather sit here and pretend he’s fine. He’s impossible.

“Eddie, that cough did not sound fine.” he points out. 

“Buck-” he sneezes, and then wraps the sleeves of his hoodie over his palms. Buck raises his eyebrow, and Eddie pointedly avoids his eyes, as he not-so-discreetly wipes his nose with a sleeve. 

“I bought tissues.” Buck reaches for the bag and digs out a box, then tries to give it to Eddie, who, instead of taking it, just levels him with a stare, as he sniffles loudly, and swipes a sleeve under his nose again. “Seriously? You’re gonna be gross and disgusting just to prove you’re not sick?” That’s a new level of stubborn Buck hasn’t seen from Eddie yet. He can’t believe this is the man his heart decided it wants. And that even while sick and gross and stubborn and ridiculous, a part of Buck is still endeared by him.

“I’m not.” Eddie insists, sounding so congested Buck swears he can feel it in his own sinuses. “Let me just finish my coffee, and then I-” another sneeze. “Have so much to do today.” he finishes, but at least this time he reaches for the tissues, looking anywhere but at Buck, cheeks red.

“Yeah, no, all you’re gonna do today is rest and take some medicine.” Buck says decisively, then takes the bag in his hand, and slowly starts walking to the kitchen. “Get comfortable, and I’ll just put this all away and be right back. I bought meds, tissues, and something to cook you some soup-” he starts listing off, getting louder the further he gets. “Oh, and stopped by the farmer’s market to get honey. Did you know that honey has antioxidant and antibacterial properties?” he asks excitedly, ready to tell Eddie every single thing he found in his quick research. Buck learned a long time ago that with Eddie he doesn’t need to hold back and can rant and ramble all he wants, and Eddie is happy to listen to him.

“Yeah?” Eddie yells back, voice hoarse and strained. Buck can hear the couch shift as Eddie gets comfortable, maybe even finally lays down. He knows Eddie won’t just give in and admit he’s sick, but this is a start. “Why don’t you tell me all about it?” he sounds genuinely interested, though also really tired. 

“I will, just a sec! I’ll make you some tea with lemon and honey, how’s that sound?” he asks, and gets a grunt in response, though he’s not sure if that’s an answer, or if Eddie’s just trying to suppress a cough in an attempt to hide that he’s sick, as if Buck didn’t already know. He chuckles to himself. He really has his work cut out for him today.

___

no pressure tags: @elvensorceress @gayarthur @diazass @thebravebitch @silentxxsoul @shortsighted-owl @eddiebabygirldiaz @arthursdent @diazblunt @911onabc @eddiediaztho @housewifebuck @lover-of-mine @gayhoediaz @rogerzsteven @watchyourbuck @hoodie-buck @monsterrae1 @hippolotamus @ladydorian05 @forthewolves @honestlydarkprincess @wildlife4life @spotsandsocks @eowon @theotherbuckley @weewootruck @thewolvesof1998 @giddyupbuck @disasterbuckdiaz @hoodie-buck @spotsandsocks

[tatsumi-rin]

Moral Orel doesn't seem 100% like a show I'd feel seen in if you don't know me but then I remember the episode with the special ed kids and underneath the usual satire on extremist bible belt religion it reminds me WAY too much of how actual special ed departments treated me and other kids growing up.

Like the writers must HAVE BEEN THERE IN LIFE, man. I'd kill to sit down with Dino Stamatopoulos and find out what the fuck inspired him and the other writing staff that day.

[oddball08]

Metal Chairs and Glass Windows | Konig

A mission gone wrong. That's what he would call it later when they were both found. They wouldn’t say a word to anyone about it. Some things can't be erased, no matter what you do. This is extremely violent and disgusting and full of angst. I mean there is some truly disgusting torture in this. I recommend that viewers are +18. If you are triggered easily, please leave. Ultimately, I can't control your actions but know that I've warned you and cannot be held accountable if you choose to read this.

WARNING R@pe, murder, torture, Su!cide, just some really triggering stuff WARNING

Dimly lit damp hallways seemingly stretched on forever as two bodies were dragged from a heavily secured truck and into the building, descending steps covered in mold and mildew. Neither responded as their gear dragged and scraped across the floor, weapons slowly being discarded and thrown on the ground for someone to later pick up. 

A mission gone wrong. That's what he would call it later when they were found. They wouldn’t say a word to anyone about it. 

König slowly woke up after an unknown amount of time, eyes adjusting to the darkness as he stayed still, knowing he was in danger due to the new settings and cuffs tied tightly around his wrists and ankles– in a different circumstance he would deem this kinky and laugh it off– but this time was different. 

He could feel the presence in the room with him, ominously waiting for him to make a move, knowing that the deadly man was currently defenseless. König knew a few things were very wrong, first off being that this was supposed to be an easy in-and-out mission, just to make sure that a camp they had already taken down was empty. It seemed as though it was in fact not empty; second being he had no idea where they were. His partner, his friend, his longtime comrade who was so close to being discharged. Just two more weeks. They weren’t even supposed to be going on this mission, but agreed on the terms that it would be the last mission they did with him. 

Everything suddenly got so messed up, they were doing fine, walking along the dirt path, almost finished with their round when König’s partner had screamed at them to get down as bullets flew, everything went black, then he was in a chair. 

Anxiety coursed through König, tensing his muscles as he tried to keep his body slack and breathing even. He had years of military training backing him up, so did his partner, they would be okay. He had to hope that they were okay. 

"Welcome back,” The presence circled around König until he was in front of him, revealing a tall man head to toe in black, weapons strapped to him, many more in places he couldn’t see König knew. “I’m glad to see you woke up. I thought for a while my guys had messed up and gave you the wrong dosage.” He smiled at the words, and it made something disgusting curl up into König’s stomach, curling around his lungs and squeezing them just tight enough for him to know it was a looming panic attack.

“Where am I?” König’s nostrils flared as he looked up, finally meeting the eyes of his capture; heart clenching more at the sight of the mask they usually wear laying on his face, the bottom half broken, and blood smeared across the rough cracks. “Where are they.”

“You don’t really think I’m going to tell you that do you? Although, I will say that your little friend is in the room across the hall. You’ll be joining them soon, don't you worry. ” The words didn’t feel reassuring.

“I brought you here for a very specific reason, mostly because I’m a petty bitch, but also because your organization fucked up my entire plan. Millions would be gone; I would have won . Instead, your team had to come and fuck everything up. Kill us, steal from us. We plan to take it back tenfold.”

He pauses as a loud bang is heard, echoing through the room as the light flickers a few times. When the man looks back at König, his smile is more tense than it was before, and König feels a brief flicker of hope before the screaming starts.

He knows those screams; he had heard those screams only two times before. Once when his partner had been holding the new recruit, dead in their arms, only eighteen. And the second when they had been shot in the shoulder, shattering their shoulder blade.

König’s blood runs cold, adrenaline rushing through his veins as a thin veil of sweat covers his skin, making the fabric of his mask stuffy. 

“It seems my comrade decided to start without me. Pity really.” The man goes behind König once more, scraping something metal against the cement floor and raises it above his head. “Night night.” 

König awakes once more with a start, blistering pain pounding in his head as a migraine begins to form. “Welcome back sleeping beauty.” The man's voice is cheerful, and he now has a bottle of beer in his hand as he relaxes back against the chair he’s sitting in. “Woke up right in time for the show.” He grins maliciously and points his beer forwards to gesture for König to look over at the glass window they were sitting in front of.

König’s breath caught and the pain in his chest came back at the sight of his partner sitting naked on the metal chair, legs spread as liquid slowly dripped down their somewhat murky legs and the twisted legs of the chair.

Their face was knocked back as they laid unconscious, blood slowly oozing out of their calf half, mixing with the milky substance and pooling around the metal of the cuffs on their ankles and down onto the cement floor.

König felt like vomiting, disgusted at the sight. Who would do this to someone? Had they been awake for it all? 

Another man stepped into the room, grinning over at the glass as he made a circle with his hands, rutting his hips forward towards the glass to indicate what he was about it do. 

“No!” König yelled, louder than he’s ever remembered yelling as he began fighting against the cuffs on the chair, just noticing the rope tied around his waist, securing him from moving too much.

“Scream as loud as you want,” The man sitting next to him said, having waited until König had stopped his screaming to speak, lifting the beer to take a swig of it. “They can’t hear ya’.”

König really thought he was going to vomit this time as the man in the room unbuckled his jeans, letting them fall to the ground before he turned the chair sideways; giving the two men outside of the room the perfect side profile of the events that were about to occur. The man slapped his partner's cheek a few times before shrugging and simply shoving two fingers inside their mouth, swirling it around before holding it open and shoving his cock in, groaning at the feeling as he knocked his head back. 

He wasted no time in quickly thrusting, chasing his own high, not caring whether or not they woke up to find their mouth being molested. It’s a few more minutes of König painfully watching as his partner is degraded, completely unaware of it all as they’re dead to the world, chair creaking as the man speeds up before gripping onto his partner's hair tightly, tugging as he stops his hips. He pulls out, looking down at them with a sneer before spitting in their mouth, shoving their head down as much as it would allow to let the cum and spit drop out, preventing them from choking. 

The man pulls up his pants before turning to the window, giving a mocking bow, “Left ‘em alive, as you asked, Sir.” The statement is more condescending than anything as he exits the room, leaving behind König’s partner, head lulled forward as liquid drips down their chin and onto their bare chest. 

“Wasn’t that a good show?” The man sitting next to König slaps his hand onto his knee, giving a cheer for the disgusting events that just occurred.

“You’re sick ,” König growls, fists clenching so hard against the chair he was in that he could feel his short fingernails begin to break.

“Ah uh,” The man puts a finger up and tsk’s, “Not sick, purely angry. Revenge is rather sweet, wouldn't you say?” 

“I don’t sugar.” König counters, and the man simply smiles gleefully at the remark.

“And I have a sweet tooth, crazy that. Now watch the rest of the show.” 

Another man enters this time, different from the last. He smiles up at the window, giving a salute. He turns around and pulls out a rolling table with needles on it and sends a quick smile towards the mirror once more before putting on silicone medical gloves. He grabs a syringe, tapping it a few times before placing it onto König’s partner's arm, distributing it quickly before grabbing another one. 

“Flumazenil and Naloxone,” The man next to König confirms, “Man's best friend let me tell ya’.”

The man takes off his gloves and puts the table back into the corner of the room where he had grabbed it from and left the room. Leaving a tense silence, anguish resting in the air as the seconds ticked by. 

Eventually, König could see their body twitch on the other side of the window, then slowly their head lifted up to reveal tear filled eyes. “Fuck.” The swore, spitting onto the ground before knocking their head back against the back of the metal chair, seemingly not caring about the loud bang emanating from it. 

Their chest began to heave as a woman entered the room this time, a mask covering the bottom half of her face. She stood tall and regal, afro pulled up into perfection, making her look innocent if it weren’t for the knife she held in her hand. 

“Ello las,” She greeted in a low Scottish drawl, smiling as she made her way over to her target. “‘Ow ‘ave the boys been treatin’ ya’?” She looked down at their still open legs and tsk’ed, slowly circling them with the dull side of the knife to their neck. König could see the anxiety in their eyes as they tried to breath as shallowly as possible, knowing it was the dull side of the knife but still not wanting to be cut by the woman in front of them.

A small trail of blood begins trailing down their collarbone as the woman cuts, before sliding back to look at her work. “Real beauty, shame to see it go ta’ waste. Might just carve ma’ name into ya’. You’d like that, yeah?” 

König clenches his teeth at the sound of their whispers, desperate pleas to please stop leaving their mouth like a prayer. The woman smiles at this and cups their cheek, wiping away the tears that were now openly falling down their cheeks. 

“Don’t cry love, only gonna hurt a lil’.” She smiles a twisted smile before getting on her knees, going in between their legs to scoot as close to them as possible, making a quick Knick at the bottom of their chest, center of the ribcage, and one at the lower stomach, right above the faint happy trail. 

König sees them hiss out at the feeling before they open their mouth in a silent scream as her knife cuts, about a centimeter if König had to guess, a long line drawn out diagonally, “K,” She holds the letter as she continues to drag the other two lines across before pulling back slightly and laughing at the sight. 

She continues on slowly, singing each letter she carves until a full name is spelled. Seven letters in total, over twenty minutes of excruciating pain before the woman pulls back, standing back onto her heels. Kendall.

“Beautiful.” She drags a finger across their stomach, digging a nail in a little before bringing it up to the light, looking pleased at the blood coating her finger. “Aye boss? Mind if I do somethin’ real quick?” 

“Sure,” The man sitting next to König nods, and the woman smiles, rocking onto her heels, “Just don’t kill them.” 

She shrugs, a playful smile on her face. “It probably won’t. ‘Least not for a while.” 

König’s partner has gone back to sobbing, eyes squeezed shut as their legs shake, whimpers leaving their mouth every few seconds as the knife slowly trails up their legs. 

They don’t have any idea what’s going on, so far gone at this point to comprehend anything behind the pain, but they know it's bad. 

The woman plunges the small knife up the hole between the crevice of their thighs, her manic laughing mixing with their screams of anguish, voice breaking as they squeeze their eyes shut and nod their head back and forth, legs violently shaking. 

König squeezes his eyes shut, wishing he could block the noise out as he turns his head to the side, not willing to see his partner in such pain. The man sitting next to him grips his chin roughly, jerking it back so Konig is face right towards the window. “Open your eyes now or I order her to kill them.” The man whispers into König’s ear, making the male's eyes fly open. 

Years of military training couldn’t prepare him for the pain of seeing this, his mental walls tumbling down as the first tear broke the dam for the rest to fall down, not making a sound as his partner continued to scream, screaming at the woman in front of then to stop, begging for mercy. 

She stands, ripping the knife out of their hole and placing a quick, mocking kiss to their cheek before skipping out of the room, appearing at the doorway next to the room König and the man were currently sitting in, a smile still plastered on her face. “So, he’s the lucky one, aye?” 

“Indeed.” The man next to him nods, standing from his spot with a groan, stretching his hands above his head. “Seems to have messed him up. Hasn’t talked shit in a good hour or so.” He jerked his head over to where König sat staring blankly at his partner, who was currently still sobbing, whole body shaking, thankfully their crying was beginning to quiet. 

“Imma go in with her next, watch him, ‘kay?” The man doesn’t wait for a response as he grabs the gun from the table next to where König sat. König hadn’t even noticed that was there, to preoccupied with watching his partner endure the endless torture that they had not been prepared for in training. 

The woman glanced over König, scanning his form before taking a few quick strides over to him and plopping herself onto his lap. “That was one, innit?” She places her head on König’s shoulder, ripping the mask off his face. König feels bare without it, the thought of someone seeing him without it on would normally send his nerves through the roof, but all he could do at the moment was blankly stare at where is partner now sat silently in the chair, chest rising shallowly their head dropped down to their chest.

“Ya’ a pretty one, aren’t ya’?” She runs a finger down his cheek, “Wonder what I could do with ya’ before ‘e finishes with ‘er.” König closes his eyes as he sees the man who had been sitting next to him for hours enter the room, malice in his eyes with a cheerful look on his face.

“How are you faring?” The man asks, using the gun to tilt their head up. “This is what you get for stealing.” 

“I didn’t take anything.” They whimper, “I’m not a thief.” 

The man's face curls up in disgust as he raises the gun, shooting their shoulder with no hesitation. The same shoulder König remembers them screaming about before. 

They don’t scream this time.

An unknown amount of time later, König sat slack against the chair, eyes blinking slowly as the woman giggled maniacally on his lap, his pants pulled back to his knees as he stared at his partner, eyes glazed over as he looked over the two new shots, a large pile of blood pooling on the ground.

They weren’t making any noises this time outside of small whimpers, barely lifting their head up to breath anymore.

“HANDS IN THE AIR!” König recognizes Price’s voice yell into the room, his unit trailing in behind him before he gestures to Ghost and Soap to handle the woman and König while he and a few others deal with the man in the room, currently oblivious to what was happening. 

“Oh no,” The woman pouts, “I guess our time is over then, huh?” She lifts her hands up, and Soap promptly slaps the knife out of the woman's hands, cuffing her as Ghost pats König’s cheek harshly. 

“König,” He says, and the sound echoes within König’s ears. “König, pay attention to me. Are you hurt?” König thinks he manages to shake his head, because Ghost’s eyes shine with worry as he lifts König’s large body up and carried him out of there. 

König winces as he’s met with a harsh light of a sunrise. 

A new day.

König can hear Price and Ghost’s hushed whispers from outside his hospital room, and he knows what happened. He knows they couldn’t have made it from the looks of how much blood they lost. 

He felt so fucking pathetic. If he had just listened to their warning sooner, noticed the sniper sooner, they wouldn’t be in this situation at all.

Their whispers stop and Ghosts enters his room, silently clicking the door shut behind him. “How are you doing?” He questions. König doesn’t speak, he hasn’t spoken to anyone in the four days he’s been lying in this hospital bed. He’s so tired.

The nurses took away his TV remote when he had turned it up so loud it was blaring on the floors above and below him, hoping if he got it loud enough he would be able to block out the sounds of their screaming and her laughter. 

Ghost sighs, having expected König to be unresponsive. “They’re not dead…in surgery actually. We don’t know much as of yet. But I know that it’s going to be a long one. Longer than anyone you or I have had to endure.” 

König feels a tear fall. He hates himself for it, he hates that he's showing this much weakness. He was supposed to be strong. He was supposed to be deadly. He was supposed to protect them. 

Ghost places a firm hand on König’s shoulder, squeezing lightly before exiting the room, his arm reaching up to hug around Soap’s shoulder, leaning his head to the side to give a slight reassuring bonk before he closes the door, blocking König out from the world once more.

“We gather here today to mourn the loss of a soldier, a friend, a family member, a partner. They were so much, fighting until the very end.” The old man says, the light shining down on his holy white robes seemed mocking to König, who stood at the back of the crowd, standing with Ghost on one side and Soap on the other. “They will be missed. Know that they have moved onto a better place, lifted higher above, and are no longer in pain.” He said a quick prayer before placing a white rose on the flag covered coffin. 

The others followed behind one by one, until König stood at the front of the line, looking directly into the photo of them smiling, the photo being only from a few months ago, arms over the shoulders of their closest friends. König’s own smile mocks him as he stares. 

Ghost gently urges him forward and König snaps his sight back onto the coffin, now covered in white roses. He clenches his jaw and swallows, willing the tears back.

It seemed to König that all he did nowadays was cry. People believed that he was so unstable that they made him go on mandatory leave. Ghost and Soap heading over with meals at least twice a week, forcing König to eat something and shower. 

Price was forcing him to go to therapy, stating he wouldn’t allow him back if he didn’t. König didn’t see why it would help, all his therapist did was yap the whole time while he stayed silent, counting down the minutes until the session was over. 

König placed the rose on top of their coffin, making their death somehow feel more final than it was before, despite knowing that he had watched the escalation of it happening right before his eyes. 

He turned away from the grave and walked away, not being able to bare the sight of the grave going down.

_______________________________________

Five months later he himself was brought down. The fresh gravestone with his name on it right next to theirs.

just wanted to point out if anyone comes at me for this being bland this was personally triggering for me while writing this so like shut up?

[bromcommie]

You're wrong. Happy ever after doesn't mean forever. It just means time. A little time.

[bunnihearted]

🏩🧸🎀🪞

[itissadbutitsmy-artblog]

more. i dont like making aus like this except i have to get to the end of it so itll all be rounded out. i drew a lot of these and they brought me joy

these all kinda flow into one another so they go in one post but they arent consistently colored or paneled. well who cares. i need to see them

its an alternate ending of this(x) and a continuation of this(x). i have too many comics falling around.