#anyway this post is brought to you by my brain trying to make sense of why i want to cosplay chuuya so bad

[maple-leaf-in-autumn]

as much as i love my femininity and being hyper femme and wearing dresses as often as i can, i've realized i've slipped into over-committing to the bit. like i'm allowed to be masc and i'm allowed to want to be masc and i shouldn't be trying to mold myself to fit a single aesthetic because the thing about being human is that you are one but also many.

[foursaints]

the rosekiller fix-it au

the dementor’s kiss can function as a really interesting form of absolution, i think. being soulless isn’t so terrible a punishment, in a world where souls can be split and shared between people.

that’s why i’m so interested in an evan lives!AU. because evan would make a horcrux out of the empty shell left of barty

of the dementor’s kiss, lupin says: “You can exist without your soul, you know, as long as your brain and heart are still working. But you'll have no sense of self anymore, no memory, no...anything.”

it’s interesting that the brain & heart are unaffected, because it raises so many questions of what the soul actually IS. barty’s existence was pretty soulless already. a boy brought up under imperius, always in service to something else. his brain was often all that mattered.

they didn’t send him back to azkaban. i think he was left in the spell damage ward of st. mungo’s, mutely accepting gum wrappers from alice & frank longbottom, not remembering what he ever did to them, just receiving their kindness.

we don’t know what the effects of the kiss look like outside the walls of azkaban, where the inhabitants are catatonic already. barty’s fate is a big question mark: what does it mean to eat & sleep & think & hear & feel, with no soul? for one thing, i think it makes him a squib. i think he can’t joke, anymore. or dream.

but then: evan rosier is a healer. a strange, dark kind. HE knows what catatonic brain damage looks like, he knows it’s not this, barty otherwise left intact. he has always wanted to make an experiment out of him anyway.

evan rosier is a dark wizard. a death eater. he would already be capable of making something as “evil” as a horcrux, but i’m curious at the idea of a horcrux made for love’s sake.

and evan rosier is a twin. he and pandora were about as close to sharing one soul as two people could be. what i’m saying is that if he split his in half, he would be used to the feeling.

i want their helpless post-war domesticity. i want evan, who lost everything, reading the prophet article on barty’s kiss, who lost more. i want evan suppressing every memory, every feeling, every ghost of his lover, to try and be a scientist again. to tend after barty’s shell. i want evan going to riddle house, grimmauld place, looking for clues. realizing a horcrux has been made of a person already.

i want barty’s second chance at a life. i want the husk of barty, wiped clean, who has only ever known the inside of st. mungo’s and evan’s care. what a meager scrap of a soul he had. what an unsatisfying meal it must have been, for that dementor. isn’t this better? he knows very little, but his terrible cleverness is still there with his brain. he knows that evan is the only other person he’s ever met who has the same tattoo on his left forearm

i want evan killing something so good & innocent that it splits his soul in half. i want him still falling in love with the shell of barty, again, this different barty, and grappling with giving him his soul, wondering if it will change him. he doesn’t even want to lose THIS barty, while he’s tortured by memories of the last one. i want them sharing two broken halves of a soul: neither of them can get into the afterlife now, but it’s okay. they can live out their lives, together.

and there is always the sharon olds poem: “So what if he had no soul / I knew him soulless all my childhood”

[gotham-daydreams]

Hi hi! It's good to see you back :D

Alternative idea. Artist reader, except more in a traditional sense. I.e. painter, digital artist, etc.

Like imagine a reader who adored making art of people specifically -- they've painted and sketched hundreds of people, except their sketchbooks are only filled with friends and strangers, no family.

And yeah, maybe there's an old sketch of some of the family members before things soured completely, but it's crumpled and torn, and the features are barely recognizable. And when the reader's kidnapped, they're just not having it. They absolutely fucking refuse to pick up a pencil to sketch or paint any of them. Over their dead body. They refuse to associate any of them with art, which is something so personal and important to them. The family don't deserve to be portrayed so intimately after everything they've put the reader through.

And they're petty, too. Like if Damian critiqued one of their pieces they've been working on, they completely ditch it because it's been soured in their eyes now.

Except (and playing off that last post), everyone's growing more and more frustrated, and the reader's not giving even an inch. And suddenly, people start questioning... well, if the reader won't share their art with the family, then what good is it to any of them? You don't wanna paint any of them? Alright, that's fine. They'll just break your arm! It's not like you were using it for anything important anyway. Maybe if you hadn't been so fucking stubborn, none of this would have happened. You brought this upon yourself. This is your fault.

And the reader's just crushed because that's their livelihood gone. I mean, they live to create art, it's the only thing that's kept them sane whilst kidnapped, and now they can't even hold their medium properly.

I can imagine some of the more delusional members of the family convincing themself that it's the user's art that's somehow driving a wedge into their relationship, and thus by removing their ability to create, they're getting rid of the obstacle in their relationship. And some of them are just bitter. Like you won't share this precious key part of your life with them? Fine. Then they'll just take that part away from you so neither of you can have it.

You guys have to stop reading my mind sometimes I swear to god... I didn’t even have Artist!Reader written in my notes yet.. what is this? LMAO

But all jokes aside, I have thought of an Artist!Reader and mixed in with a few other elements since my brains is so weird with ideas that are too similar, and believe me when I say that while it is a similar-ish conflict at the start, it does derail into its own thing- and I'll just say that, well, hurt people, hurt people.

Regardless! Before I spoil and give away too many of my own ideas and what I already have planned for such an idea, I can see that in a way!

Though, don't get me wrong, the family does collectively have a very strong resolve, and as good as they work individually - when they come together, it is truly a sight to behold. The reader will have to be as unwavering as them, and it'll take more than just the reader being unwilling to paint for them specifically for them to even consider physically harming the reader over it - even for the more impulsive members of the family.

However, if such a thing were to happen- depending on who it is... yeah, they'd definitely point the finger at anything but themselves over it. Though, I will also say that some will absolutely own it, and this goes for any reader and just hurting them too.

Like, yeah. They hurt you, but because you weren't listening. You weren't being yourself. You were going to hurt yourself- and they're just stopping you from doing that. They will do it again if you don't stop. So, get with the program, and no one will get hurt, okay?

Because you get what you give, right?

(Good luck trying to break or even sprain any of their arms to throw their point back in their face, its not happening - they've dealt with people twice their size, with powers, and more- and they not only have beat them, but the bat has plans to take care of them should anything happen, even if that is thanks to his paranoia. You'll be lucky enough to even get a lucky shot in no matyer your combat experience prior. It's not happening... not easily, anyway. Not as easily as they can break yours.)

Even then, I think they'd try to just 'temporarily' fracture or break your wrist at most over that, and even then the family member would have to be really pissed off and impulsive - especially to a point where they just won't leave the room to cool off.

I'm not about to say that it'd be 'deserved', but it'd take a lot for the family to even try to do something that they know will take away the reader's ability to do something they love so much. In an Artist!Reader scenario that you described, they'll definitely just try to get what they can - even if they can't get anything for themselves.

Really, I think something that'd make any of them sort of 'snap' like that is if the reader kept doing pieces of other people, and the family member's own jealousy got the best of them in that moment. Be it just the situation and reader's overall attitude n just little things building up, or a small thing the reader said that was just the straw that broke the camels back.

Would they feel bad? Absolutely, but depending on the person, would they lowkey view it as punishment for the reader being so stubborn and adament about not doing even a sketch for them? Most likely, if only a little, and even so they'll keep it to themselves, unless they've got a big mouth or are just that pissed off.

Honestly, I don't know what would push them to do a whole arm - but probably something similar to the OG limb removal post — just them being pushed to an extreme edge after such a long time.

I don't think they'd be that cruel, and if so then only in a fit of anger as that does tend to happen, but genuinely? No. Absolutely not. Maybe jealous because your attention is elsewhere, but to deem it unimportant because the reader isn't doing something on them? I don’t really think so, but maybe that's because I don't really see the Batfam being those kind of people, even on an off day.

They do enjoy whatever the reader is into as they can see it makes the reader happy, and even if some definitely feel like they should be the reader's biggest source of happiness, comfort, and all of those good things, they will ultimately let it be. If anything, they might find themselves enjoying the things the reader is into for one reason or another.. unless its dangerous or drives them crazy, which.. well, it depends on how you look at things if its easy to do that or not. They're selfish, yes, but I wouldn't say they're so overly sensitive? I'm not totally sure how to word it, but maybe what I mean will show more in the future, haha!

Especially since... well, Chapter 4 isn't going to help, but I'll be real and say that I don't really consider the Not [ ] Series to be my best work, even if I do enjoy it quite a bit. I could definitely do better, but I consider it more of an introduction into what I write, how I write, and things like that so... hopefully that shows in my other projects when i get to them as I finish up this short series!

[hoshinasblade]

For real, the animator had ri have been a Hoshina loyalists. Cause no way he looks that bad. For a Narumi prompt it could be funny that he gets with someone that doesn't know him. Someone who doesn't believe he is the 1st division captain because they only see him as the "wet cat" version of himself. And we have Narumi losing his mind over the fact you don't believe him

(not sure where tumblr took my post again because i cant find it lol) the budget went to hoshina and his tight shirt and there was nothing left to animate narumi properly. anyway, this is such a cute and interesting prompt because because yes, he is losing his mind over you not believing he is the cool first division captain 😆

pairing: gen narumi x f!reader trigger warnings: narumi gen is a trigger warning himself, just super short because im not used to writing anything narumi-related yet. hopefully you don't get mad at me anon for not going exactly per the ask lol my brain is a mush right now, i'll try harder on my next fics

the rich man is here, shouted the kids from the hallway. you can hear their hurrying footsteps - excited little taps that in turn triggered your heartbeat to race as well. you shut your eyes, calming yourself down.

narumi gen is not exactly a rich man; the children in the orphanage just calls him that fondly. apparently he has been dropping by for years, way back when you weren't working as a teacher yet. the older orphans refer to him as nii-san.

narumi would bring toys snd snacks for the kids, and would spend time with them until the early evening before he has to say goodbye. last time, he played video games with everyone; he brought crayons and sketch boobs for his visit today, and within an hour, it was eerily quiet - the little girls and boys holding their pencils, drawing all sorts of things.

the youngest in your herd, a six-year old boy with a missing front tooth ran to you when he saw you by the door, showing you his drawing - a stick-man figure with a knife in its hand, and an animal beside it which you were not sure whether it's an oversized dog or a giraffe.

"it's a kaiju, and narumi nii-san is fighting it", the boy explained, and you patted him in the head. "he's a captain of his team, i'm gonna be like him when i grow up!"

you looked at narumi who is sitting on the floor, but he was already looking at you. you shifted your gaze. "this is so pretty, we should display it in the art wall", you suggested to the boy who grinned at you, clapping.

"you know that it's not a good thing to do, lying to kids, right?" the children had bid narumi goodbye just past 7pm, and although some of them cried, narumi was quick to promise he would be back next weekend. you were surprised, he used to only be here once a month.

"huh?" he responded to you with confusion. you walked him out the orphanage to the parking lot outside. "i don't know what you're talking about."

"look, i know you are trying to be nice. and i thank you for that. what you've done for these kids is more than anyone else have done for them. but telling them you're some guy who kills kaiju is wrong. and telling them they can be like you?" you scoffed.

narumi's mouth was wide open before he realized you have finished your speech. "but i am a guy who kills kaiju", he replied, his hand on his chest as if he is swearing on his life. "really, i'm not lying. i'm the captain of my team -"

"right, and you fight kaiju on the daily," you finished his sentence for him.

"yes, i am a real badass, i promise!" he exclaimed when he sensed you do not believe him in the slightest. it looks comical how he looks close to panicking over the fact that you are not buying whatever he's selling. he frowned at you, and you stared at him, the eye contact lasting for a few seconds.

maybe this guy is a con-artist and he makes his living manipulating people, you said to yourself. this would make a lot of sense considering you think he has the good looks to lure people in. narumi had flirted at you once or twice before - or you wish he was flirting and you were not just reading too much on his actions.

"you know if you meet my friends, they would tell you the truth," he suggested, his voice cheerful.

"why would i meet your friends?" you asked, equally confused.

"so they can tell you that i am the coolest captain of the anti-kaiju defense force. they would also tell you i am a good man and a dependable friend," narumi said, reciting maybe the contents of his curriculum vitae to you. is he in a job interview? you wanted to ask but didn't.

you sighed in defeat. "are your friends as exasperating as you are?" you asked in jest.

"come on, let me impress you", he told you with sincerity that is almost startling. you were not expecting him to sound so genuine, so adamant at proving himself to you.

the kids will have their dinner in a few minutes and you will be needed to help out. you gave narumi one last glance before strolling back to the orphanage. "i'm off on fridays", you said.

narumi's smile could have lighted the entire street.

[aoxizu]

i have another 2.1 character dynamic post in the recesses of my brain but i need to get this out first

star rail's 2.1 update main plotline leans a lot more into existentialism and absurdism than i thought it would which is a really nice surprise

like i thought before 2.0 that at most it was just going to be some "oh no capitalism bad ipc bad cults also bad" thing but honestly what we got is so much more interesting. the spoilers start now

also massive disclaimer i am not a philosophist and actually i really don't like philosophy because it makes my brain hurt and i would much rather just look at logical nice things like math and plants so. if i get anything wrong please correct me

acheron's past and how she became an emanator of nihility reminds me somewhat of the absurdist theme of how people always look for meaning when there isn't any, until they finally realize that the universe is meaningless

and the entire path of nihility basically is a road towards that realization that people tread on, and the difference between the real world and star rail is that in the real world here we have people who will see that and then go write a book about a guy not crying at his mother's funeral, whereas in star rail it seems that just accepting that the universe is meaningless turns you into a pathstrider or even emanator of the nihility (not sure if i remember the details, correct me if i'm wrong)

and then aventurine's whole motivation is trying to understand why the universe is so cruel to him, and to find meaning when you have everything except freedom, both of which are absurdist themes

the leap of faith argument often attributed to søren kierkegaard claims that even though there is no rational logic for believing in god, you should do it anyway because the alternatives are madness, suicide, and ignorance. this was one solution to the problem of confronting the universe's meaninglessness: choosing to believe in a higher being regardless

later world wars i and ii both contributed heavily to the rise of absurdism as people returned from the war, having seen so many others die around them, and then just going back to a normal society with none of what they as individual soldiers had contributed seemingly doing anything. and then it happened again, but on a much greater scale with even more deaths. both wars and the destruction they brought led many people to start questioning why a supposedly moral god could allow this suffering, and this is where camus comes in and says that actually religion and nationalism both aren't good solutions, and instead we should just accept meaninglessness and keep living despite the absurdity

and i think dr ratio's scroll thing kind of relates to that

he tells aventurine to open it when he's about to die, or when he's completely out of answers for the question of how to confront absurdity

and dr ratio's answer for aventurine is to just tell him to keep living, good luck

which is. yeah

it's the argument that there are more answers to nihilism than just 1) going insane, 2) pretending like it doesn't exist, and 3) dying

it's the bold claim that despite everything, you can still choose to live

sure nothing makes sense but that does not detract from your life. it doesn't need to make sense at all

and with the understanding that things do not need to fit our human definition of meaning, we can continue on knowing our true place in the universe

and with that aventurine walks into the very big black hole like look at that thing you cannot tell me there is no symbolism there

let's go back to acheron.

in the part where you get a snippet of acheron's conversation with some guy just before this cutscene, the other party states that "[IX] leave[s] woven strands of fate for humans to walk, and together THEY weave a great shadow...And this shadow silently envelops them."

which to me sounds like a statement on how people across time and space have again and again come to the same question, what is the meaning of life?

and acheron's whole color thing seems to mean that she is one of the few who, after walking so far on the path of nihility, somehow have not died yet, be it from madness or something else

like it seems implied that many many more have seen the meaninglessness of the universe and have not reacted as well as acheron has

ok i have more to say about the elation and how it in turn relates to the nihility but that will have to come later but there is. a lot of interesting things there to explore

once again disclaimer: I Am Not A Philosophist And Do Not Know What The Correct Definitions Of These Words I'm Throwing Around Are. thank you for coming to my ted talk that was more of a longwinded ramble

[amhrosina]

Bad Dreams (Hold Me Closer) - Frank Castle x f!Reader x Matt Murdock

A/N: The first time I posted this, it somehow deleted every person I tagged AND half of my fic lmfao anyways lets try this again?? Also, is this not the most SUBMISSIVE gif of Matt Murdock ever??? A big thank you to my lovely beta reader @wheredidiputmyfish <333

Find the rest of my poly!Frank/Reader/Matt fics here!

Summary: When Frank is haunted by his worst nightmare, you and Matt must help him through it, even if that means having some fun in the shower to cope.

(Warnings: pretty much every smut warning applies, p in v, oral (male receiving), hand jobs, lots of things happening with cum??, facials (!!!!!!!), delayed gratification, denied orgasms, choking, also angsty as hell at the beginning, Frank and Matt are boyfriends!!!!, this is so self-indulgent, i had to ask a mutual to make sure it wasn't too dirty, probs forgot some lmfao)

Frank Castle was a brave man – he was dauntless, and intense, and extraordinarily unafraid, and it was because of this bravery, because he was exceptional as a Marine, a protector, that he had never experienced the fear that was now eating him alive. It was a confusing situation for Frank, to say the least, who was willing to bet he’d experienced more danger than most of the population.  

Each time he’d been deployed, he’d expected it. Fear was a natural response to being sent halfway across the world on dangerous, top-secret missions. He saw it in his military brothers’ eyes, felt it oozing off his wife and kids every time he had to say goodbye, but it never visited him, and he was glad of it.  

When Maria and his kids were killed, fear was a luxury only time could’ve afforded him. It had happened quickly, so fast that even Frank hadn’t been able to assess how dire the situation was before losing consciousness, and when he awoke days later to a group of sympathetic nurses who broke the news of his dead wife and dead kids, fear was nowhere to be found. A rageful vengeance overwhelmed him, and it would be years before it subsided long enough for him to grieve. 

Frank Castle was a brave man, until he met you – until he met Matt and fell in love with the both of you. He wasn’t the same man he’d been when he fought for his country, and he certainly wasn’t the same man he’d been when he lost his family. He was entirely too aware of the world’s horrors now, and the thought of either you or Matt experiencing them made his stomach turn. 

He tried to hide it – the fear that overwhelmed his senses so thoroughly that it paralyzed him – and he would’ve gotten away with it if it weren’t for Matt’s keen hearing. Or so he thought.  

- 

A firm, warm hand on your shoulder brought you out of your slumber. The gentle caress of Matt’s touch was a welcome feeling, but when you fluttered your eyes awake and took in the darkness surrounding you, you blinked at him in confusion. It was hours before any of you had to be up for the day, and the furrow in his brow made it clear he wasn’t waking you out of carnal desire.  

“Matty, what's-” 

He shushed you, nodding toward the sleeping figure on your other side.  

“His heart rate.” Matt swallowed thickly, furrowing his brow further, “It’s pounding. I’ve never- He's never-” 

Matt shook his head, panting. You eyed Frank’s sleeping form, which had twisted itself in the sheets so thoroughly that it looked claustrophobic. His breath stuttered out of him at an erratic pace, and you moved toward him before your sleep addled brain could warn you against it. 

It was risky, you realized, to wake an ex-Marine so abruptly, especially at a time like this, no matter how much time had passed since his official discharge. This thought rang through your mind like a bell as Frank flipped you on your back and brought his hand to your throat, squeezing hard enough to maintain control, but not so hard that you couldn’t breathe. A warning, mostly sleep induced, but a warning, nonetheless. Matt was instantly beside you, trying to pry Frank’s hands away from your neck. 

“Hang on, Matt.” You murmured, searching Frank’s face for recognition. You knew Matt could easily shove Frank off the bed, but you wanted to try a gentler approach first. 

The man who stared down at you wasn’t the man you’d fallen in love with, and the murderous glare on his face was enough to bring tears to your eyes. 

“Sweetheart.” Matt warned, though he had stopped trying to pull Frank away from you. 

“Frankie, baby.” You cooed, “It’s me, honey. It’s me and Matty.” 

His grip on your throat tightened slightly, the only indication that your plea was heard. Matt looked like he was going to be sick. 

“Frankie.” You tried again as a tear slid down your temple. “You’re safe, baby, and you’re loved. We love you. Wake up, honey.” 

Frank blinked, furrowing his brow. He glanced around the room, taking in your alarmed expression, the tenseness radiating from Matt, and the hand that he still had wrapped around your throat. The tightness around your neck eased, and Matt visibly relaxed as you breathed a sigh of relief.  

“Fra-” 

He threw himself backwards, off the bed and onto the hard floor, the thump of his rough landing echoing across the room. Frank barreled backwards as if his dreams had followed him into the real world, and if it weren’t for Matt’s agility, he might have crawled directly through the bedroom door. 

Matt sank to the floor, grasping at Frank’s shaking hands. Frank leaned against the door, eyes shifting back and forth as panic overtook his body. You couldn’t hear like Matt could, but you’d be willing to bet Frank’s heart was thundering in his chest. You inched closer to them, unsure if crowding Frank was the best thing to do. 

“Breathe, honey.” Matt murmured, pressing a chaste kiss to Frank’s fingers. He cradled Frank’s hands to his chest, pressing until he was sure Frank could feel his steady heartbeat. “Breathe.” Matt’s voice left no room for argument. He wasn’t requesting – he was demanding.  

Frank obliged, focusing on the rise and fall of Matt’s chest as he finally caught his breath. He reached a hand toward you, beckoning you closer until he could grasp your hand, squeezing it as his heart rate slowly returned to normal.  

The room dissolved into silence, and you waited for Matt to indicate something, anything about Frank’s inner turmoil. He still cradled Frank’s hand into his chest, and a sorrowful expression rested on his face.  

“Honey?” Matt whispered, barely loud enough to register, almost as if he was afraid of scaring Frank. “Are you okay?”  

Frank pulled his arms back into himself, wrapping them around his midsection as he hunched forward. A self-soothe if you’d ever seen one. 

“Hey, don’t do that.” You shook your head at him, grabbing his hands. “Don’t shut us out.” 

“Do you want to talk about it?” Matt asked, placing a tentative hand on Frank’s thigh. 

“I’m-” he started, and you held your breath as he searched for the right words. “It’s not- I'm fine.”  

You studied the positions everyone had ended up in. Frank was in a hunched sitting position, leaning against the closed bedroom door. You were on his left, squeezing his hands into your chest. Matt was on Frank’s right, rubbing soothing circles into Frank’s leg. You arched an eyebrow at Frank. He was clearly not fine. 

“I’m fine.” He insisted, urging you to drop it. “It was just a bad dream.” 

You let out a slow breath, weighing the risk of what you were about to say in your head. “You attacked me in your sleep when I touched you, Frank. You’re not fine.” 

Your tone was gentle. You hadn’t wanted to impose more guilt onto Frank, only to point out the lie for what it was, but Frank’s face crumpled at your statement all the same.  

“Fuck, sweetheart. I’m sorry.” His eyes welled with tears, and he angled your chin as he assessed the damage done to your throat. You didn’t think he had choked you hard enough to bruise. In fact, you were certain he had choked you harder during one of many games played with Matt. You tried to salvage the conversation before the guilt ate him alive.  

“I’m okay, Frankie. You didn’t hurt me. See? I’m fine.” Frank ran a finger down the column of your throat. “But you’re not fine, baby.” 

You shifted yourself closer to his figure, wishing he could see the tenderness that ached in your chest for him. Matt spoke before you could gather your thoughts into a coherent sentence. 

“It’s okay to be afraid, honey, but don’t be afraid of us.” 

You nodded along silently, trusting Matt to navigate through the minefield that was Frank’s psyche.  

“It’s not-” Frank shook his head, swallowing thickly, “I’m not afraid of you.” 

“You’re afraid of something. I can taste it in the air around you.”  

“I’m afraid of losing you.” 

You didn’t speak, didn’t move as he laid himself bare for the both of you to see. Matt tilted his head, bobbing his chin in a slight nod – an encouraging gesture for Frank to keep talking.  

“I can’t,” he paused, shuttering, “I can’t do that again. I lost Maria and I lost my kids, and I thought my life was over. I had nothing else to lose, so I didn’t have anything to be afraid of. But then you two showed up, and made me care, and now I have something so precious to lose, and I can’t do that again.” 

Tears pricked the back of your eyes. “You won’t lose us, Frankie. We’re not going anywhere.” 

“You don’t know that.” He shook his head, refusing to lift his gaze from the floor. 

“I know that we’re here now, and that we love you.” Tears blurred your vision, and this time you let them fall. “And the rest of it is up to fate or the universe or whatever.” 

Matt cleared his throat, and for the first time since he’d awoken, a small smile formed on Frank’s lips.  

“Or God,” you chuckled, “or whatever.” 

Matt nodded at your amendment, shifting closer to Frank. “You can’t be afraid to live, Frank. Don’t torture yourself over things you can’t control.”  

“I wasn’t afraid until I met both of you.” He shrugged. 

“I know.” Matt bobbed his chin. “I see you, remember?” 

“That’s sort of funny, coming from a-” 

“Frank!” You yelped, but Matt’s face had morphed into a feline grin. You rolled your eyes, biting your lip so you wouldn’t laugh at Frank’s awful excuse of a joke.  

“Someone’s feeling better.” 

“I’m feeling sweaty.” Frank corrected, rising to his feet. “I need a shower. Care to join me?” 

—-----

A heavy fog hung over the bathroom as the steam from the piping hot shower coated every available surface. Frank had thrown off his clothes and jumped into the large walk-in space quickly, and you’d be willing to bet it was so he could process all the emotions he’d just experienced without any interruptions. 

You and Matt hung back for a few minutes, whispering your concerns under hurried breaths. 

“Do you think he’s okay?” You asked, pulling your shirt over your head. 

“I think he’s been feeling these things for a while and hoped we wouldn’t notice.” Matt wrapped his arms around you, pulling your back against his chest. He sighed and rested his chin on your shoulder. 

“Do you think he’ll-” The thought was difficult to put into words. You didn’t like verbalizing something so terrible. “Do you think he’ll leave if he can’t move past the fear?” 

“No.” Matt’s voice held a resounding firmness that eased the tension in your shoulders. “He wouldn’t leave us, sweetheart. He loves us too much for that.” You couldn’t decide who Matt was trying to convince more – himself or you. 

Warmth encompassed you when you stepped into the shower, sending a wave of goosebumps up your spine. Your nipples perked at the heat – something Frank immediately registered. A lusty glaze overtook his stoic expression. You sent him a coy smile in return. You’d do anything he asked you to do, if only to give him the control he desperately clung to. 

Matt followed behind you, shuffling against your back as you nuzzled into Frank’s chest. Water sprayed over Frank’s shoulder, soaking the three of you while you held each other close. Frank placed a hand at the base of both of your necks, and a fuzzy feeling blanketed the anxiety you had been feeling minutes before.  

You looked over his features. His eternally furrowed brow, the big nose that you and Matt adored even though he hated it, the hard cut of his jawline. He was so pretty, and you loved him, you loved him, you loved him. He looked down, meeting your wandering gaze.  

“When you look at me like that, baby,” he hummed, tugging you against his increasingly hard length, “It drives me fucking crazy.” 

You hazily blinked at him, smiling. “I’ve spent my entire life looking for you. Both of you.”  

A softness that was only reserved for you and Matt crossed Frank’s face, and for a moment, the only things you cared about in the entire world were the two men enveloping you in their arms. You lifted your chin toward Frank, ghosting a kiss over his lips before nestling your cheek against his broad chest.  

Frank looked from you to Matt, who had situated himself behind you, focusing on the way your body vibrated against his chest every time you spoke. A cocky smirk was plastered on his face, daring Frank to do something about it, and Frank was never one to back down from a dare. 

He surged forward, careful not to knock you off balance, and pressed his lips to Matt’s in a bruising kiss. Matt met him with equal force, shoving his tongue into Frank’s mouth and whimpering, whimpering, when Frank wrapped his hand around the column of his throat. You tried to ignore the pounding of your core as they kissed over you and could only let out a soft whine when one of Matt’s hands snuck around your waist and began rubbing tight circles around your clit.  

Frank broke away from the kiss, wide-eyed and panting. You leaned your head back onto Matt’s shoulder, gasping when you saw how achingly hard Frank was. You moved before you were fully aware of what you were doing. 

You barely felt the thump of your knees hitting the shower floor, barely registered the curse that came out of Frank’s mouth as you wrapped your mouth around his cock. Matt’s stunted groan merged with Frank’s when you turned your head and did the same thing to Matt.  

“Did you like seeing us kiss, Kitten? Is that what has you so needy for our cocks?” Frank cooed. You stroked both of them off as you met his gaze. Heat flooded your core at his tone, and you would’ve been embarrassed at how incredibly turned on you were if Matt hadn’t uttered his next words so pathetically. 

“I want to taste him, too.”  

You paused your movements, smiling up at Frank, whose cock twitched in your hand.  

“Come taste him, Matty.” You stroked Matt’s cock one last time before tugging on his hand, “You want him to taste you, right Frankie? Can Matty taste you?”  

Frank bit his lip in an attempt to smother the moan that crawled out of his throat at your question. A stunted groan lodged itself in Frank’s chest as Matt dropped to his knees, mouth already open and ready to be fucked. The first lick up the underside of Frank’s cock weakened his knees. He didn’t think he deserved this kind of treatment, but Matt was eager to please, and began sucking him off so perfectly that Frank swore he saw stars behind his eyelids. 

You and Matt took turns, licking and sucking and kissing Frank’s achingly hard cock, and Frank, the poor bastard, quickly became putty in your hands. He was convinced that if he died in this exact position, with you and Matt so desperate for his cum, he’d die a happy man.  

He couldn’t help it. He started thrusting into Matt's mouth, and the first time Matt swallowed around Frank’s cock, which was lodged so deeply down his throat that he definitely wasn’t breathing, Frank almost fell to his knees. It was a wonder he lasted as long as he did.  

“Fuck, ‘m gonna come. ‘M gonna come. Shit. Fu-” 

Matt pulled away from Frank’s cock, opening his mouth and sticking his tongue out. A mirror image of you, sitting pretty and ready to be soaked, and that image was enough to bring Frank Castle to his fucking knees. He fell against the shower wall, groaning loudly as he came all over the two perfect faces in front of him.  

Then, he promptly blacked out. The only thing he could focus on was the twitching of his cock every time another rope of cum shot out of it. The entire world faded around him, and when he finally re-entered his body and opened his eyes, the sight of Matt’s tongue down your throat almost sent him into cardiac arrest.  

“Tastes so good, baby.” You mumbled against Matt’s lips, though the comment was clearly for Frank’s benefit. Matt groaned in agreement. Frank’s cock twitched with desire. 

“Please,” Frank begged, palming his sensitive cock, “Please, don’t stop.”  

You and Matt obliged him. Matt swung you around, pressing your spine into the shower wall and hiking your leg around his waist. His lips didn’t leave yours as he slid the tip of his cock through your folds, testing your readiness. And shit, you were so ready. 

A steady ache had been building in your core since you’d stepped into the shower earlier, so much so that your inner thighs were coated in your slickness. Matt’s groan as he thrusted in, and in, and in, was downright sinful, tugging at the fire brewing in your gut. You stretched around him, gasping when he nudged against the soft tissue connected to every nerve ending in your body.  

“Shit, sweetheart. You’re so tight.” Matt grunted, pulling almost all the way out before slamming back into you. The sight of Matt sliding in and out of your wet cunt was met with a wicked groan from Frank, who sidled closer to your panting figure. You latched a hand onto his shoulder and squeezed. Your orgasm was fast approaching, and it was going to be a big one. Frank’s lustful gaze was enough to make anyone crazy, but combined with Matt’s rough pounding against your core, you were pretty sure the Earth was about to shift beneath your feet. 

“Like what you see, Frank?” Matt teased, smirking as you squeezed around him. 

“Shut the fuck up, Red.” Frank grunted, stroking himself at the same rhythm that Matt was grinding into you.  

“You’re both so pretty.” You breathed, whining as Matt quickened his pace. “Oh, shi-” 

“Don’t come yet, sweetheart. Not until I say so.” Matt was trading off between whispering in your ear and sucking on the spot right below it. His hand made a slow ascent to your neck, wrapping around the column of your throat and lightly squeezing. If he was trying to get you to hold off on coming, he was doing a shitty job of it. “Can you wait, pretty girl? Hmmm?” 

You groaned, looking to Frank for help, but his slack jaw and stuttering breaths told you that you were on your own. He was captivated by the sight of Matt slamming in and out of your wet cunt and only shushed you when you tried to get his help. 

“Fuck, Matty.” You whined, tears forming in the corners of your eyes.  

“Beg for it, and maybe we’ll let you come, Kitten.” 

“Oh, shit. Please, please, please, can I come? Please, can I? Haven’t I been a good girl tonight? Please let me come.” 

Tears sprung free, streaming down your face. You held your breath, focusing on everything but the fact that Matt was deep inside you. Matt’s smirk slipped as you squeezed around him again, and you gasped when he hit the spot in you that would normally send you into the stratosphere.  

“It’s up to Frank, baby.” he muttered, gritting his teeth as you squeezed around him again. It was his kryptonite, and you knew it. Two could play that game, Mr. Murdock.  

You shuttered as Frank rubbed his thumb over your lips, contemplating how long you might last like this, how pretty you’d look coming on Matty’s cock. You were on the brink of sobbing, begging for any kind of relief when he lowered his hand and pressed it against the hand Matt still had wrapped around your throat.  

“You wanna come, pretty girl?” Frank cooed. His breath shuttered against your cheek, and you realized just how close he was to coming as well.  

“Yes!” you cried, panting through the pleasure-born tears, “Yes, please.”  

“All you had to do was ask, Kitten.” He smirked, gripping your throat tighter. “Come, sweet girl. Be a good girl. Come around Red’s cock.” 

The tiny thread of control you had left snapped at his words, sending a steady stream of fire throughout your entire body. You squeezed your eyes shut, rocking against Matt’s body as your orgasm pulsed through you. Warmth filled your cunt, and you vaguely registered Matt coming deep inside you, vaguely heard Frank curse as he came for the second time. You weren’t entirely sure you were breathing by the end of it. The tightness around your throat loosened, and you felt the pad of Frank’s thumbs wiping the tears that had gathered on your cheeks. 

You gasped in air, sagging against Frank, who pulled you off your feet and into his arms. He held you close to his chest and stepped out of the long-forgotten shower, forgoing drying off completely as he laid you down on the end of the bed.  

“You okay, sweetheart?” Matt followed close behind, though he had made the wise decision to grab a towel before exiting the bathroom.  

“Mmmm.” You mumbled, snuggling into the soft sheets. The bedroom held a dim glow, lit only by the early morning light. If you strained your ears, you could hear the beginnings of the workday in New York City. Taxis, subway trains, bodega gates – New York was waking up. 

As if it were waiting for the perfect time to make itself known, your stomach grumbled loudly, earning you the soft chuckles of your favorite boys. Frank pulled the towel from Matt’s hips, earning him a swift smack on the chest, and hurriedly dried himself.  

“I’m hungry.” You mumbled, matter-of-factly.  

“We can tell.” Frank grinned, pulling you to your feet. You reached for a fresh towel, drying yourself before pulling on one of Frank’s old T-shirts. 

“I’ll make the bacon if you make the eggs. And Matty, you just sit there and look pretty. Deal?” You asked, padding toward the bedroom door. 

“Deal.” Frank smiled and followed you into the kitchen, tugging Matt behind him. 

Tag List:

@xleiaorgana @mukbee @soft-emo-enby @purple-amaranthe @kokoterainonago666 @blackwidownat2814 @minervadashwood @emiemiemiii @h4rrys @messymissy @mylifeispainandiloveit @mossexe @alina02 @spikedhe4rt @fictional-hooman @thedevilwearsblack @merleisapartygod @legocity2 @violet-19999 @quackson03 @certifiedhunter @shoxji @layazul @dumb-fawkin-bitch @americaarse @lazyxsquirrel @honeysucklepotter @m0nster-fvcker @matthewmurdockswhore @thatgirljayy @scoliobean @infinityisbright @myguiltypleasures21 @thegirlwiththeeyes1297 @goddesspsyche @mxxnligxt @ladamari68 @dnxgma @evyiione @twsssmlmaa @gpenguin666 @desert-fern @megmastersgf @dilfs5678 @mymamalife @fightmilk @babyslyth @theesexystallion @myguiltypleasures21 @alexxavicry @hallecarey1 @km-ffluv @chiaraxtargaryen @trulylavandedarling @D0wnbad @deliciousfestsalad @lilyevans1 @imagineadream @22carolina08 @definitelynotsugar @casualchaoticdevil @peachy-flxwr @nashja @xshewayout @blep--bloop

[subzeroparade]

*chant* New fic! New fic! New fic!

So excited you’ve posted a new ER fic, and with a teaser for more to come! 🎉🎉🎉

Since it’s been awhile, maybe I poke your brain on what your thoughts on the DLC are (game play, lord, sceneries, anything you’d like to share with us really)? Has it changed your headcanon on any of the characters, or did you find ways to incorporate the new lores into your interpretations? Most importantly, did you have fun?

*tagged for spoilers but just in case - spoilers •‿•*

Did I enjoy it? YES. Did I have qualms with some gameplay bits? YES but I’m a filthy casual on NG+2 or something and generally Not Good at Game. But I beat it. 

As for lore, it’s really a mixed bag. There’s a ton of stuff I’m delighted to have new or expanded lore for - Marika’s origins, Belurat and the entirety of Hornsent culture, Godwyn’s Death Knights, BAYLE???? VILE BAYLE!!!! etc etc (sometimes I listen to Igon’s voice lines just to psych myself up for real life). There are things I need to adjust my headcanon for a little, as well - St Trina, for example, has always been a facet of Miquella himself to me, a sort of alter ego he willingly takes on, which is how I enjoyed writing her in fic. To have her elaborated here as a separate person means taking that a little further if I write him/her/them again, but I think the parallel it draws between Marika/Radagon is hugely interesting as well.  

iirc there are a couple of instances in the base game where lore almost contradicts itself, but I think in some cases the DLC got a little sloppy. The timeline is also way foggier to me now than it was previously. I was a big fan of the idea that Messmer was entirely unknown to his siblings, written out of history after the Crusade (predating Marika ushering in the Golden Age of the Erdtree), but that contradicts the lore we get on Gaius and Radahn as they’re both personally acquainted with Messmer, and makes me wonder which of the other demigods might’ve been aware of him, and under what pretences might they have met. It makes for a lot of fic ideation, but I’m of the opinion that if you’re writing fic, sticking too closely to (the sometimes unhelpful) lore will stultify the work; so I’m trying to pluck little instances of new lore that interest me to bolster the story I want to tell.  

Like most of the fandom I have a huge beef with Promised Consort Radahn, and I’m still struggling with how to work that into my headcanon. To me, there is simply no reason for it. There are no indications of it in the base game, and you have to tie yourself into continuity knots for it to make any sense - and that’s just bad writing. I’m not against retconning things if they serve a purpose, but this was neither useful nor necessary (nor well done), and that’s fundamentally disappointing for a Fromsoft game. The more people aggressively try and justify it, the more I feel like the potential explanations unravel. If we’re going along with the assumption that Miquella *needs* a lord to ascend, we’ve had Candidate #1 since the base game: Godwyn. Half of what we know about base-game Miquella is that he spent time and resources trying to grant Godwyn some form of peace, while his hideous fate hangs over the narrative in perpetuity. And we give Radahn closure literally in the first act of the game. I’m a firm believer in Miquella knowing 100% what he’s about, but in this singular instance blinded by love for Godwyn and an all-consuming desire to *fix this* by resurrecting some nightmarish, malformed version of him. There’s so much juicy story to be told in Miquella refusing to acknowledge the thing he brought back is not his brother, and for all that godhood and remaking the world into utter passivity can do, it can’t retrieve Godwyn’s irretrievable soul. All that to say, I’d even take Malenia as his promised consort - it would made more sense than Radahn, too.

Anyway tldr I don’t have to think about how disappointing that is now, because the fic I’m working on is around Marika’s ascension, and more specifically Messmer and Melina’s upbringing. There’s another on the backburner but I’m on the fence about it since it hasn’t reached an outline stage yet, and I don’t start anything unless I am 100% sure I know how to finish it, and finish it well ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ Ty for the ask! As is the case with me, the rest of my musings on the lore come through in fic writing, because those are the texts dumps I’m good at. Here’s a little (young) Melina and Messmer wip as thanks. 

[battry-acid]

Hey dude I totally don’t know at all you should totally write a manifesto on trans/intersex wolverine ooooo you wanna write it so bad ooooooo

you tease me, tumblr user that i am definitely not friends with. we both know this is bait i simply cannot help but bite. << if you read this till the end you get a surprise :) >>

i could go on a big long rant and list every single instance in which logan defies gender norms in the comics, but i'm gonna try to be brief this time. my headcanon that logan is trans/intersex is so personal and deeply rooted in my mind that discussing it kinda feels like sharing the secrets of a close friend if that makes sense. like, it's his business, it ain't my right to share that information.

i know there are trans logan truthers out there. i have seen them in the wild. i know there are people who would agree with this headcanon, and i'm sure i'm not the only one who takes trans headcanons super personally as a trans person, projecting your experiences and feelings onto a character you really like. it's the same thing with ol' logan (and kurt is not spared of this treatment either).

with the intersex headcanon, i don't often see those enough (for any character, in any fandom, honestly) especially considering intersex people make up, like, 2% of the entire world population. i know of several canon intersex characters in media, but not headcanons.

the biggest reason many people have the trans logan headcanon is because of his clone x-23/laura having XX chromosomes due to the sample used by dr. kinney having a damaged Y, making her 'female'. this is going off of a ciscentric intersex-exclusionary idea of what biological sex is, though.

i'm still totally down for the base concept of 'laura and logan having different gender identities means that at least one of them is trans since they have basically the same DNA' though, but i think both logan and laura are intersex. i think part of the reason it was so hard to clone wolverine is because of his unique DNA. it isn't contradictory for them to have different gender identities or different biology. i think we should stop looking for a reason to label laura Girl and logan Boy and just accept that they can be neither, both, in and out of the between, anything, it just requires so much less hassle. why is their biology so important anyway? that doesn't change their characters.

there's also just...general biological fuckery happening in the weapon x program as pointed out by 1random-starfish because this is superhero comics we're talking about where they're trying to explain how characters get superpowers. this shit doesn't make biological sense and that's okay. it doesn't need to make sense. transphobes and interphobes are constantly saying that our existences "don't make sense" and why should we ever even slightly cater to their beliefs? we make sense to ourselves and that's all that matters. trans and intersex logan makes sense to me.

another argument brought up in defence of trans logan is the fact that he's a short king. as a short king, i approve of this. but there's little emphasis on the fact that he is naturally extremely hairy, both him and sabretooth are super hairy, like way more so than most other characters (besides the ones that are covered in fur like kurt and hank) and that's pretty significant to me. i'm also hairy as fuck. almost all of my intersex friends are hairy too. obviously how much hair a trans and/or intersex person has will vary, but like i said, this trans/intersex logan headcanon is super personal, so i'm projecting personal attributes onto him, damn it.

as i said in a previous post, though i don't feel it's incredibly important to disclose, logan likely has POTS or CAH or something similar to those conditions. i don't think medicine can or should define what logan is. but just to give a reference for how i interpret his appearance, some of those attributes are similar to the ones logan has in my brain. fat, hairy, short, often experiencing fatigue/vertigo/disturbed sleep/etc (worsened by him having PTSD), adrenal issues (paired with PTSD), breast tissue, facial hair, decreased bone density (which was strengthened by his skeleton being bonded with adamantium), etc. he was also allegedly a very sickly child.

onto how i portray logan in my art. some artists prefer to give him top surgery, not just for the "who cares it's a headcanon i do what i want" reasoning but also because there's evidence that logan could experience a permanent surgery like that if enough effort was put in. i, however, am one of the no-op logan truthers. not only do not all transmasc people get top surgery but it doesn't always feel required due to diversity of body types. it's why there's so many different kinds of top surgery, there's so many different ways a chest can look. i don't always draw logan's chest the same way consistently, and like, who cares. the only reason i bring this up is because i personally will never draw logan with any kind of scars, top surgery or otherwise, because of my understanding of how his healing factor works.

regardless of any reasoning i may have for these headcanons, it's just what i feel is right. i draw stuff how i want to. i think about these characters how i want to. the little version of logan that lives in my brain told me he is trans and intersex so that's how i'm gonna portray him. anyway,

[blurglesmurfklaine]

NEWSIES UNO REVERSE

I LOVE IT

tell me EVERYTHING

starting questions I have

-what happens to esther, Sarah and mayer in this au

-how does this change les and jack's dynamic of like "cool older kid who's street smart" and "little kid who idolises him"

- what happens, is Jack now the more educated one, is it Jack who has the words to start a strike,

-who leads the manhattan lodging house

-has davey had run ins with Brooklyn before (and what does Jack think of Brooklyn when he becomes a newsie)

-does davey like getting into fights (bc I think especially 92sies David would, but bc of how he's been brought up he dismisses the mere notion and avoids fisticuffs)

ok warning u now I will have more questions later haha

I WELCOME ALL THE QUESTIONS!!! Sorry this is sooooo long but here:

what happens to esther, Sarah and mayer in this au

Oooh I haven’t thought about Sarah yet! But I will tie it in to what happens to the Jacobs parents. Be warned, it is Sad and Tragic.

Mayer tangles with a delivery truck, just like in livesies, but instead of staying at home he leaves the state to find work with family somewhere west. He never comes back. This happens when Davey is about eight. Sarah is a little older, maybe twelve, and Esther is pregnant with Les, who never gets to meet his father. Three years later, Esther falls ill and passes. I imagine Sarah being the oldest and ‘Most promising’ would be sent/taken away to live with an elderly relative, or possibly some sort of home for girls

how does this change les and jack's dynamic of like "cool older kid who's street smart" and "little kid who idolises him"

Well Jack is still Jack, you know? Oh and if you thought he was confident before, just IMAGINE how insufferable he in a world where he had a clean bed and full stomach every day?

I think Les would see him as the cool new “rich” kid who is confident enough to try anything and has all these wonderful stories about growing up in the theatre—which Davey obviously cannot stand bc he believes Les should keep his head on earth

what happens, is Jack now the more educated one, is it Jack who has the words to start a strike

Omg omg ong okay SO I’ve actually been thinking bout this a TON, and although their on roles are switched, they still are the characters they are if that makes sense??? So in my mind, it’s still Davey who has the words and information to start the strike—orphaned or not, this motherfucker READS. Similar to the show though he sort of sparks the idea, and Jack is kind of egging him on which Davey doesn’t understand because Jack HAS a mother, a family, he has so much more to lose

And there is this one scene that has been chewing on my brain and shaking it nonstop like a Rottweiler with a toy. Jack is still very much an artist in this AU, and Davey is the one who escaped from The Refuge.

Post rally apology scene, Jack says he’s talked to Kath and they have an idea—Davey says he just talked to her, too… and Davey isn’t kissing and telling but he doesn’t have to. Jack can tell there’s something (and there’s a lot of internal angst from Jack about this, who is trying to stay cool)

Anyway. The plan involves needing words and art for The Neesies Banner. Kath and Davey’s words, and Jack’s art. So Jack and Davey sit down together, Davey recounting everything he went through at the refuge while Jack draws it.

And then Jack can’t take it anymore and puts his pencil down and Davey’s like “???? Why’d you stop?”

Jack looks at him and just says, “I am so sorry this happened to you” and Davey is taken SO aback because he doesn’t think anyone has ever told him that and they have A Moment and uh oh??? Feelings??? And the moment breaks and they scramble away to the printing press at Pulitzers basement lol

-who leads the manhattan lodging house

Davey, but in a more unassuming way! He’s not so outright about it, and definitely not a big personality. He mostly talks kids out of making stupid decisions, but if they’re stubborn enough (Race) he’s not going to waste his time, because they’ll find out the hard way (Also Race). He’s not even necessarily the “leader” he’s just sort of the oldest and has been there the longest so

-has davey had run ins with Brooklyn before (and what does Jack think of Brooklyn when he becomes a newsie)

Davey has had a run in with Brooklyn through Race. I can see Race getting into a scuffle with Spot and Davey having to intervene. Not sure WHY yet? Maybe Race was selling on Brooklyn turf, maybe he was conning Brooklyn newsies, but I DO know that Davey was Very Annoyed about having to save Race’s ass

-does davey like getting into fights (bc I think especially 92sies David would, but bc of how he's been brought up he dismisses the mere notion and avoids fisticuffs)

Honestly? I don’t think he *likes* it, but he realizes the necessity of it quite early on!

THANK YOU FOR THESE!! They were so fun! 🤩 Anyone anywhere anytime is ALWAYS welcome to ask me about my brainrot newsies AUs lol

[rensworddump]

MDNI / +18 / I WILL BLOCK

info and oneshot under the cut

alpha!jeff the killer x beta!reader (fem)

word count : 2,190

pov : First Person / reader

requested

a oneshot i did the other day, requested and posted originally here. it was a lil bit rushed and my first time writing for omegaverse but hopefully you enjoy. based off the slender mansion idea, where they all live in a mansion under one roof.

          Living in a giant manor buried deep within the woods with a bunch of serial killers was interesting, especially when they were mostly alphas which lead to weird yet entertaining competitions of sorts to prove who was the best or to try and win over one of the few omegas that lived here. I wasn't interested in being turned into a prize of sorts, so I had been pretending to be a beta to keep out of it. In fact it wasn't exactly hard to convince the mansion I was a beta, especially with the heat blockers I had brought with me to the mansion. Everything was going like normal, I was lounging on my bed while reading a book and listening to the chaos downstairs until I felt a familiar tingle in my lower abdomen.

Was it really that time of the month again? I guess it was time for my heat, so I had quickly hopped up to take my suppressants before anyone could smell the pheromones emanating from me. I dug through my bag, my brows furrowing as I couldn't find the bottle of pills I desperately needed. Feeling a bit panicked now that the bottle wasn't where I left it, I hurried to the bathroom attached to my room to see if they were in there. A wave of relief flooded through me as I saw the bottle on the counter of my sink, a faint smile tugging at my lips. However, the smile soon fell as I picked up the bottle and noticed it was empty. I found myself pacing, unsure of what to do after pretending I was a beta for so long.

I knew I couldn't just leave to find more heat suppressants since I know my pheromones were growing stronger the longer I waited, and the longer I waited the less effect the pills would have anyways. Feeling like there was no other option, I would just make a nest while I was still clear headed enough to do so. As I walked back into my room, I found myself stumbling as the tingling sensation grew more and the familiar brain fog of my heat was starting to settle.

I let out a small whine, my trembling legs barely carrying me to the bed as small beads of sweat started to form on my face. Damn, I forgot how fast my heat hits me since I haven't properly gone through it since I moved here. I bury my face in my pillow, whimpering as I press my thighs together to try and suppress the slick I felt forming between my legs. A firm knock sounded at the door and made me look up from the pillow, my heightened senses allowing the person's scent to be painfully obvious. It was Jeff.

"___, you alright in there?" Jeff knocked again before letting himself into my room like he always did. "What's going on in here, I smell..."

Jeff trailed off as his nostrils flared slightly, his eyes darkening slightly with a primal lust as a deep rumble vibrates in his chest. I watched as he kicked the door closed, walking over to me and sitting on the edge of my bed. His fingers trailed down the side of my sweat sheened face, his body cool compared to my own. Instinctively I let out a low whine, his fingers providing some relief against my heated skin.

"You're an omega, huh? I knew there was something off about your scent when I met you," Jeff mumbled huskily, fingers trailing to grab my chin and make me look up at him. "Run out of suppressants, huh, ___?" Jeff leans down to the crook of my neck, inhaling deeply. "God, you smell fuckin' delicious... You could always let me help you out with this heat.."

My breathing became slightly ragged at Jeff's close proximity and his husky tone, my body instinctively reacting to his touch with a shudder. I bit my lip as I look away from his face, my eyes landing on the bulge twitching in his grey sweatpants. I knew letting Jeff fuck me would make my heat last shorter, plus, what was the harm in letting him help just once?

"F-Fuck, Jeff," I whimpered, nodding slightly at his suggestion. "Please... It's driving me crazy, I can't think straight. I just want this to be over already, it's so overwhelming..."

"Mm, you've got it, babes." Jeff said huskily as he smirked slightly. Jeff dipped his head down to the crook of my neck, planting soft kisses along the sensitive skin as his fingers slip under the fabric of my shirt to trail along my side. Goosebumps flood my skin in his wake, a soft gasp leaving my lips as Jeff grabs my shoulder and gently pushes me onto my back while still kissing along my neck.

I let my own hands trail down his body as he gently nips at my neck, my back arching and pressing my chest against his. My hand makes it to his sweats, my fingers nimbly moving along Jeff's shaft through the soft fabric and causing him to let out a low groan against my neck and buck his hips against my hand. Jeff's fingers trailed to the hem of my shirt, pulling away to take it off as he looks down at me.

"So fuckin' beautiful, baby," Jeff murmurs as he undoes the button of my jeans, sliding them down my legs. "Can't wait to claim you, body and soul," He panted out, leaning down to nip up my neck. "Gonna make you scream for me, make sure everyone knows who makes you feel good."

Jeff's one hand trailed to my back to unclasp my bra, his other moving to rub my pussy through the fabric of my panties. He planted kisses down my neck again, trailing to my chest before he removed my undone bra with his teeth and flung it to the side. His lips clasped around one of my nipples as he moved my panties to the side, his fingers getting coated in my slick as he pushes two of them into me and slowly pumps them. He swirls his tongue around my nipple before swapping to the other. I let out a low moan as a wave of pleasure shoots through me like electricity, my head falling back as Jeff's fingers stretch my walls with a scissoring motion before curling them to hit my sweet spot.

"Jeff, oh my god... Please, I want you.." I managed to pant out, my fingers tangling in his hair as he looks down at me with hungry eyes.

"Louder, baby," Jeff ordered with a low growl, his fingers picking up the pace. "If you want me so bad, beg for what you want."

"Mmphm, Jeff," I groaned, letting a louder moan fall from my lips as his fingers keep pumping in and out of my core. "I want you to fill me up, knot me, please. I'll be a good girl, fuck, I promise.."

I look away in embarrassment at how submissive and needy my words were, but Jeff growled in approval before pulling his fingers from me. I whimper at the loss of his fingers, looking back up to catch him stripping out of his t-shirt and sweatpants. Once Jeff was naked he moved me to my hands and knees, one hand resting on my lower back as the other lines his cock up with me. Pushing slowly into my tight walls, I feel him stretching me out. Jeff let's out a low moan, more akin to a growl, as he pulls back to thrust into me again with slow and deep strokes.

"Fuuuck, ___, you're so tight," Jeff praised with a groan as he leaned down to kiss my back, his one hand gripping my hip as the other holds him up. "You're taking me so well, so wet for me."

I grip the sheets beneath me as Jeff starts to pick up the pace of his thrusts, his fingers digging into my hip. The sounds of our pants and moans mingle together with the sound of skin slapping against skin, a layer of sweat forming on my body. Jeff leans down, his teeth biting down on my shoulder to keep me in place as he angled his hips to thrust up into me and brush against my g-spot. I let out a loud moan, leaning my head back against his shoulder. Jeff's hand moves from my hip, trailing up my body to my neck and gripping just enough to make it slightly harder to breathe.

"Who do you belong to, baby? Tell me who owns you." Jeff growled out, teeth still clinging to my shoulder.

"I-I belong to you, Jeff," I whimper out with a loud moan, my walls pulsing slightly as I push my hips back against his thrusts. "I'm all yours. You own me."

"That's fuckin' right. All mine, nobody else could make you feel this good," Jeff growled, his thrusts becoming sloppier as his own release drew close. "Shit, ___, hold on for me. I'm almost there, baby, gonna knot you and fill you up like you deserve."

Jeff's movement became more erratic as his cock throbbed inside me and with one final powerful thrust his knot slipped into my pussy as his thick load pumped into me. I let out a loud moan, the sensation of his hot cum flooding my walls pushing me over the edge. My body trembles beneath his as Jeff holds me up, grinding against me in attempts to prolong my high. As we sit there, tied together as we wait for his knot's swelling to go down, Jeff panted heavily and combed his fingers through my hair.

"You did such a good job, baby," He murmured softly, pressing a kiss between my shoulder blades. "You took me so well... I'll get you in the bathtub and all cleaned up as soon as I can pull out. You feelin' better, ___?"

"Mhm... Feelin' a lot better. Heat definitely won't be as intense as it would have been this week," I mutter, my brain fog slowly starting to retreat. "A bath would be lovely, thank you.."

          "Mmm, thank you for letting me help out," He chuckled lowly, the sound vibrating in his chest. "I'm glad to do it anytime. Here, let's get comfortable."

I squeak softly as Jeff carefully maneuvers the two of us to lay on our sides, rubbing my back as he whispers sweet nothings and praise to me. His other hand plays with my hair as he occasionally kisses my shoulders, the two of us just laying and catching our breaths after. After a few minutes Jeff pulled his cock from out of me, a deep sigh leaving his lips from the sensation before he got up. Jeff slipped on his grey sweats again before scooping my naked form into his arms and carrying me to my bathroom, setting me on the counter.

          As I watched him draw the bath, I could feel his cum dribble onto the counter. I didn't pay it any mind, instead looking at his fingers wiggling under the stream of water as he adjusts the temperature. Once the water was warmed up to a good point and the tub filled Jeff picked me back up and set me in the tub.

          "Made a bit of a mess on the counter, huh?" Jeff raised a brow as he walked over to the counter, grabbing a wipe to clean it off. "Let me get this cleaned up then I'll wash you up."

          I relax in the warm water as Jeff cleans the counter, feeling my muscles relax under the heat. I let out a low groan, opening one eye as I feel Jeff's hand on my back. He kisses my forehead before guiding me down to the water, wetting my hair before bringing me back up. Jeff lathers some shampoo into my hair, his fingers massaging the soap into my scalp with a surprisingly gentle touch. I let my eyes flutter closed again, leaning my head back as he rinses my hair with a cup. His fingers card through my hair, making sure to get all the shampoo out before he grabbed a washcloth and lathered body wash on it.

"Let me help you stand up," Jeff murmured softly as he helped me up, my hands resting on the wall of the bathtub to keep myself up. "There you go. You're so beautiful."

I felt a blush creep onto my cheeks, merely replying with a flustered huff which amused him. Jeff chuckled and started to wash my body, grabbing the cup from earlier and rinsing me before slipping his fingers into my core, letting his cum fall from my body. I couldn't help but let out a slightly moan, my walls twitching around his fingers.

"I'm just tryna clean you, ___," Jeff teased with a smirk, his fingers brushing against my g-spot as he pulls them out and rinses them in the water. "But if you want a round two, I can do that too..."

[aether-friskets]

Why I Headcanon Waylon Park as a Trans Guy?

it came to me in a dream.

ok but jokes aside (well not entirely it DID actually originate because of a dream i had getting interrupted by a nonexistent video essay on the topic... dreams are weird man), i do want to try talking about my reasoning for this (although it's totally legit to hc a character as trans purely because you want to!! thats totally based also lol), because maybe it'd be interesting to hear the lens through which i saw this game? idk lol but i'm doing it anyway... below the cut in case it gets long

Ok immediate prefaces, A: i doubt this was actually the intended at all and i'm not trying to say it's canon, just saying why i read it that way :3 and B: this will probably be a rambling mess and I apologize, I'll try to make it somewhat make sense.

I guess I'll start with: a whole major thing of Outlast, is fighting to tear down this large corporation, that is like. the embodiment of shitty systems that exploit people (this post by bry mentions that general topic, although more focused on miles' angle). It's worth noting because, to me at least, fighting these sorts of systems really aligns with a lot of queer folks (and basically any group that gets fucked over by the system, which is most of them loll). There's like, this whole thing of Waylon seemingly fitting that image of the ideal typical man, with the wife and kids and a job, but he has to risk all of that to do what he feels is the right thing.

(Oh yeah, I guess quick tangent on that note. Yes I know in canon we literally see his dick lmao and also we know he has kids, which you might think would deter my hc here. but A: i already said ik it's probably not canon, i can still read into it regardless. B: intersex ppl exist. C: phalloplasty and other similar procedures exist. D: ppl can have kids in non-traditional way. so im prob not gonna cover that element of it more)

My brain hasn't been able to help but interpret his whole journey in a queer way, because i played it as a teenager still in the throes of understanding my identity and place in the world, so in the end this might not even make sense to anyone else. But, I'm trying to explain, so I'll continue to regardless.

I kind of saw it as Waylon hiding in the protection of an "ideal" life. On the surface he looks like he's in that American ideal family, but it's a subversion. He's only one of them because they think he is. Because he doesn't step out of line. Unlike Miles, who's more outspoken about issues, who seemingly has no one around him. He's treated as part of this "ideal" world, while working in the background to try and stop the exploitation and immoral acts going on.

When he's caught, when he's seen as something more complicated than first imagined, he's cast out. Lumped in with the same people being exploited by Murkoff already. He isn't "human" to them anymore. He's something else. Something they don't like.

Although the violence brought upon him is by the variants, it is still in part Murkoff's doing, since they fucked these people up via these experiments to a point of heightened violence and just generally ruining their lives more than they already had been by whatever they had done prior. That being said, they are still responsible for their own actions.

the stuff with Eddie is definitely the part that most resonated with me through this lens. I remember first playing it, and he scared me the most, for a lot of reasons. One of which being what he represented. He's The Groom. He wants someone to be his Bride, and you're it, even if you don't want that. As someone who's aroace AND already knew at that point that i wasn't a girl, this guy felt like a human embodiment of the pressures to fit what was expected of you. That one day, you'll be married and have kids. If you don't, then you're worthless.

But it's interesting especially, because Waylon IS married. He has kids already. He has that family. The difference is, in this hypothetical trans lens, he's not "really" in a traditional family. He's "pretending", as some might see it, because he's not "really one of them". Being Eddie's Bride is the situation that would've been expected of him, but he said "fuck that", and did his own thing.

Plus, like, with Eddie in particular, you will NEVER be what he wants. He will try to make his perfect bride, but you'll never be it. Even before Mount Massive, no one was what he wanted, judging by all the people he killed. He's a broken man desiring something but never liking his options.

Also just fucking. these lines from eddie make me lose my mind.

That part of you the world sees, they think it's perfect. As God intended. Even these idiots and lunatics see it. There's something special about you. On the surface. But when they look deeper, when anybody with eyes to see looks at what you truly are. That's why they don't trust you. You're not what you're meant to be. Not yet. This place can see into your mind. And the things you've done. Oh, they're a sin, darling.

like HELLO??

I know it's probably just Eddie rambling but it felt like he reached through the screen and grabbed me by the throat like.

Anyway in actual relation to my point. uh. Remember the thing I said about Waylon being a "fake" typical family? This kind of relates to that. Like, on the surface, he seems like he's got this perfect typical American family, he's "as God intended" (which. bro. i swear that exact phrase has been used against trans people so many times). But if you look closer, you'll realize there's more to it than that. Also like, going from the "as God intended" line to the thing about the things he's done being a sin, like hmmm. Maybe I'm reading into that too much, considering we know Eddie wants to make you into his Bride, so of course he's gonna think stuff like that. But still. It's a bit interesting to me.

Plus, it's interesting how, despite having a wife and kids, he's still more... feminized, I guess, than any other characters in this game. Both in the game itself, and within the fandom. Like, not just Eddie literally calling him a woman and trying to make him his bride, but also stuff like a variant near the beginning calling him a "pretty flower" before threatening him, Andrew (one of the staff) licking his face at the beginning of the game... A lot of violence and sexual-ish acts that are often directed at women in media. Even Frank, who I don't have as much to say about here, has some weirdly sexual undertones to his whole cannibalism thing.

This isn't entirely related but one part of the game that still sticks with me but I don't see mentioned as much, is near the beginning. Those guys stabbing the dead staff member. One of them remarks that "there are no observers here" and "do you think you're different? Something special?", which I think helps cement the whole idea that he's treated the same as the rest of people being exploited by Murkoff now. There's no turning back to that "ideal" life you were hiding in before. Hell, that's definitely reinforced more at the end of the game, when you choose to publish your footage, knowing Murkoff will come after you for it, and probably ruin your life. Maybe there's more interesting things to glean from that, but i thought they were interesting lines nonetheless.

anyway, overall I know this is probably just the ramblings of a trans/generally queer person reading WAY too much into a character that I happened to resonate with when i played the game, but i thought maybe it would be interesting for others to understand what would lead me to this conclusion? Anyway, that's all i've got on the subject right now, so I hope it was at least a little interesting.

[inkblackorchid]

So... about season 3 Aki.

Ok harsh contrast to my previous, excited post, but I did say I had more to yell about episode 75 and I need to get this off my chest anyway. Plus, I remember mentioning in a post that I need to talk about season 3 onward Aki anyhow, so might as well do that now! I am thinking Big Thoughts and I need to Scream.

Long, incoherent, unhinged rant incoming because I have 100 things to say and 100000 screenshots to post, but I am also tired and my brain is mush.

Can we please talk about all the jarringly unfulfilled setup the start of season 3 did for Aki? Because I'm starting to feel an urge to claw at the walls. I'm gonna go through this, piece by piece of damning evidence, because I need to vent my utter confusion and frustration somehow, I guess. Okay. So.

After giving us a bit of time to settle in after the timeskip into the pre-WRGP stretch of things, the itty-bitty portion of the story Aki occupies at this point starts off arguably strong. Yusei gets kidnapped, everyone's in a frenzy about it, but Aki's especially worried.

Then this. Funky new signer powers! Nobody's been able to do this before! I wonder if they're going to do something with that! (Spoiler: They're not.)

Then Aki "no sense of self-preservation" Izayoi gets herself in a bunch of danger trying to rescue Yusei and we get this:

Oh! Wow! Aki can control her powers now! (Which: how. Why did they never show us this. That alone could have made for a whole mini-arc. Why waste that????) That would give the writers so many cool opportunities to let her use them! I wonder if they're going to do something with that! (Spoiler: They're not.)

(Side note: I love this scene. I love it to death. They're both ride-or-die "who cares for my safety when yours is on the line" for each other and I love them.)

Of course, shenanigans then ensue, leading up to Sherry's marvellous introduction.

(Mwah. I blow her a little kiss.)

And it is at this point that Aki Has An Epiphany.

And to top it off, she gets some interesting interactions with Sherry, too!

So Aki resolves that she wants to become a turbo-duellist, too. And the thing is, this isn't a little one-off thing or something they never deliver on. They end up building this up for several episodes, bit by bit. First we get another mention of it at the pre-WRGP press thingy they all attend:

Then it's brought up again when Yusei accepts the first duel against Bruno/Antinomy:

(Also, side note again, but can I just mention that Aki also gets this moment the episode before:)

(Where she literally puts herself directly in harm's way in a public setting to protect people with her powers??? Like, I'm sorry, pinch me or something, but how does that not scream "badass good girl setup"???? HOW?)

So we get at least three episodes worth of buildup where Aki agonizes over becoming a turbo duellist to understand what her friends (but especially Yusei) are feeling when they duel like that, and then they finally deliver on it and episode 75 has her getting her license. And it's fantastic. Seriously. That episode is golden. Not just because it delivers on this promise, not just because it has a really cute moment between Aki and Yusei in it (regardless of how you read their relationship dynamic), and not just because it (as per my last post) showcases how much the rest of Team 5Ds cares about Aki (by literally building a runner for her and accompanying her to her exam and don't even get me started on Jack beating up those jerks trying to make her crash unprompted) but because it gives us just that smidgen more detail about Aki's character, too. Because the thing is, at first, she majorly sucks at driving.

And not only is this realistic to a degree (learning to drive is hard, regardless of what you're learning to drive), it's also great, because you know what Aki's response to it is?

She keeps going. She doesn't let it get her down, she gets back up and tries again. (And from a writing standpoint, this is lovely because that stubbornness is great in situations like this, but you could easily turn it into a weakness in a different scenario if you wanted to.)

And not only does Aki learn driving the hard way here, she also finds herself confronted with jerks who don't want her to succeed,

(Ruka, sweetie, I love you.)

and she makes an absolute rookie mistake during her exam by trying to play a speed spell when she doesn't have the necessary speed counters.

And feel free to disagree, but I think this is also great. Because honestly? While driving a really damned fast motorcycle that I'm not super used to yet, and being expected to make solid tactical judgements in an overcomplicated card game—the rules of which are slightly different when you're playing it on a motorcycle—at the same time, I would likely also mess up like that and accidentally try to make an illegal play. But the thing is, the episode rewards her for sticking it out anyway by letting her pull off a really complicated driving manoeuvre to save herself from her envious turbo-duelling-license colleagues' cheap tricks, and by letting her score a really nice win from a tight spot, much like any of the boys would have in her position.

(Take that, you jerks. Dumbasses only get blurry screenshots.)

So Aki gets her license and is welcomed by the team as a fresh turbo duellist. Hooray!

(I love them all so, so much, help me.)

And we also get this:

Wouldn't you know it! Sherry's been watching Aki get her license with interest! And she seems to be mighty pleased with the result!

So. After all that, I don't think you could blame anyone (it's me, I'm anyone) for getting really excited about what Aki's gonna get up to from this point outward. Aki can control her powers now! And she got her turbo duelling license! And we've got a new, enigmatic side character who seems like she could have super interesting interactions with and play off Aki! I wonder what they're gonna do with all that.

*deep breath*

Sigh.

Seeing as I already know this show like the palm of my hand, I kind of dreaded getting past this episode because I know exactly what happens to Aki from this point out: Nothing. A whole lot of nothing. Okay, well, no. See, I went back and checked all the episodes I have left, just to make sure, just in case I forgot something (very likely when you've already watched the show three times, I know).

From here on out, during the entire pre-WRGP, WRGP, and Ark Cradle arc, Aki gets exactly three things to do:

She uses her shiny new turbo duelling license to fill in for Crow at the Team Unicorn match because he got injured. Which, on paper, is a perfect way to let her have the spotlight for a moment. Except, the only thing she gets that spotlight for is to last a hot four turns in the duel before losing spectacularly to Andre and literally never turbo duelling again for the rest of the show. (Like, yes. The moment where she summons Stardust Dragon is chefs kiss and legendary. But in light of the surrounding circumstances, it feels like a consolation prize to make up for the ensuing character trainwreck.)

Since Crow is technically still injured when they're meant to go up against Team Catastrophe, Aki trains to fill in for him there again. Except! They intentionally make her crash right before the duel, putting her in a short-term coma! And as the icing on the cake, when she wakes up, it also turns out she lost the powers she was only just able to control for absolutely. no. reason. None. They never bother explaining it, they don't even try to hint at why they might have vanished. (I have my own theories for why they had to let her powers vanish and they all start and end with the words "we couldn't be bothered to figure out how to write this character".)

At the very end of the show, the very end, after temporarily fridging Sherry, too, they dig both girls back up in order to let them participate in a three-way final boss duel with Crow. (Which is a fantastic duel, I love it to pieces. Genuinely.) You could argue that they tried to cash in on all the intrigue they set up between Aki and Sherry here, but—come on. At the end of the show? Seriously? Oh, and did I mention that for some reason, Aki's powers mysteriously reappear after this duel? For no reason? Again?

I just. It does not compute. They went as far as doing all this setup, letting Aki get the hang of her powers, letting her get her license, making her part of Team 5Ds, even giving us a new character that seemed like the perfect fit to let her bounce off of—and then, like some sort of kafkaesque reverse-miracle, they somehow managed to take a sharp left into "whoops, don't care about this character" and nearly wasted the entirety of that setup in one fell swoop. If it weren't for that finale saving at least a smidgen of it, I'd be holding a torch and a pitchfork over here. (Hell, I might, even knowing that Aki's final duel in the show is kickass.)

Please tell me if this is just me (15 years after the show released, I know, leave me alone), but this feels like they were literally loading Chekov's gun directly within view of the audience, only to later procede to toss the damned thing into the sea instead of firing it.

Okay. Okay, I think I'm done. For anyone who actually bothered with the whole post, first of all, thank you for your attention, secondly, sorry, but this does, indeed, still bother me ten years after I first found this show, so I had to get it out or it would have eaten at me forever. God damn it.

Anyway, if you'll excuse me, I'm going back to writing fics where Aki actually gets something to do right this second. If anyone's interested in giving a fic series where Aki gets a separate character arc that tries to stay mostly canon-compliant after the defeat of the dark signers a go, you can find my stuff here.

[thewolfprince]

Zorua!Desmond AU

(Based off of this post between myself and @teecupangel ! This will definitely have more parts to it, as I’ll be using Codextober as an inspiration for the chapters so I’m not flying totally blind like with my Sylveon!Desmond AU.)

————————————————————————

At this point in life, Desmond only cared for two things: his Pokémon companion and his ancestors. He was going to sacrifice himself for the world anyways, so why should he care about his father? Or Shaun and Rebecca?

No matter what Desmond tried to tell himself, he knew it was hopeless. He cared for them. So he sent them away before activating the Eye. So they didn’t have to watch his death.

He ordered Shaun to bring Sneak with him. Sneak being the one Pokémon companion Desmond kept from his early days at The Farm. The other Pokémon his father forced him to train had been freed when he ran away, or more likely given to other novices.

Desmond refused to use his Pokémon to fight solely on his behalf like other “trainers” in the modern day did. He preferred to use his fists alongside his Pokémon. He and Sneak were two sides of a coin, true partners to the end.

But Sneak deserved to live a long, healthy life. Tears started to pool in Desmond’s eyes as he approached the Eye and raised his hand. Taking a slow breath, he touched the Eye just as a black and red blur ran past him to also touch the Isu device.

Pain engulfed Desmond’s arm and he screamed as hot molten lava flowed through his veins. Something registered in his mind, a series of words that didn’t make sense as the pain scrambled his brain.

No! I need to be with him, I can’t let Desmond be alone again! I promised him!

/\

A sickly boy lay in bed, coughing harshly while his mother hovered over him with a wet cloth and the foul-tasting medicine the dottore had prescribed. Struck with fever in the night, the boy had remained ill for two days. This day, his mother hovered yet again, and while the boy dearly loved his mother he was getting sick of being bed bound.

One of his elder brothers promised to return with something fun for the boy and the boy waited to see what his brother would bring him, entertaining himself by trying to guess what the young lad would bring.

“Oh Petrucco!” Sang his elder brother, holding his bag in his arms. “I have brought you a present, fratello!” He barged into the room and Petrucco’s eyes immediately fell upon the bag in his older brother’s arms.

“I… liberated him from the Pazzi cazzo that tried to attack me on my way to the church.” Petrucco giggled at the blatant lie his brother tried to give him.

“Oh Ezio…” Their mother sighed and shook her head fondly. “Now, I must go run an errand. Ezio, look after your little brother please.” She gave Ezio a knowing look that Ezio simply grinned cheekily at.

“Goodbye Mama!” Petrucco called as Ezio waved. When she shut the door behind her, Petrucco bounced in impatience. “What did you get me, Ezio? Show me, show me!”

A muffled yip came from the bag and Petrucco gasped as a fluffy white and red head poked out of Ezio’s satchel. It’s front paw was completely blackened, almost as if it had rotted but not fallen off. And without the smell.

“What is it?” Petrucco asked softly, crawling to the edge of his bed for a better look.

“I thought you were the aspiring Trainer, piccolo uccello.” Ezio teased, sitting himself and the bag with the Pokémon onto Petrucco’s bed. The Pokémon sniffed the air before hesitantly hopping out of the bag to sniff Petrucco.

Petrucco held his hand still for the Pokémon to sniff. It chirped and looked up at him.

“Now,” Ezio grinned, brandishing a small bag in front of himself, “time to find what this little guy will eat.” He handed the bag over to Petrucco who put his hand inside and pulled out a handful of Berries.

A long-standing tradition, even longer than the Auditore name, gaining a Pokémon’s trust by showing that you’d care for it and treat it well. Not everyone followed the tradition, in fact the Auditores were put under scrutiny several times for it. People these days prefer to just catch Pokémon with Pokeballs and simply use their Pokémon for battle.

But Petrucco knew that to have a Pokémon was a sign of responsibility. Ezio trusted he could take care of another living creature, as sickly as he was most days. His heart warmed for his older brother’s love.

The Pokémon sniffed at the Berries, looked at Petrucco, then back down at the Berries. It hesitantly took a red Berry and slowly ate it. Its eyes lit up and it nuzzled Petrucco’s hand with a happy yip.

Petrucco yawned, suddenly feeling all his excitement give way to exhaustion. He put the rest of the Berries in the bag before handing it back to his older brother. The Pokémon on his lap chirped before circling on Petrucco’s lap, laying down.

Ezio smiled. “I’ll leave you two be.” He said softly, standing up and quietly easing his way out of Petrucco’s room. Petrucco smiled as he quickly fell into slumber. He’d have to figure out a way to properly thank Ezio for this amazing gift.

/\

Every Auditore could see how Petrucco’s life improved with his new companion at his side. After pouring through the family library, Petrucco learned his companion was a Zorua. He promptly named the Zorua Desmond and the two were inseparable. Desmond and Petrucco were a common sight together, getting into mischief on the days Petrucco felt strong enough to leave bed. On the days he was bed-ridden, Petrucco enjoyed Desmond’s company as the Pokémon entertained his Trainer the best he could.

Sometimes Federico and Ezio would stop by and teach Petrucco things about battling, using their own Pokémon to train both boy and companion. Federico’s Farfetch’d and Ezio’s Eevee started out easy on the inexperienced duo, stepping up the pace as Petrucco took to battling like a Magikarp to water. Soon, Petrucco and Desmond wiped the floor with the elders, even if Petrucco suspected they were making it easier for him to win by not using their full strength.

While Petrucco’s mind grew sharper and his bond with Desmond grew deeper, ultimately it wasn’t enough as he was awoken by gruff guards and brought alongside his Father and eldest brother to the gallows. The only thing on Petrucco’s mind was Desmond as the executioner placed the noose around his tiny neck.

Please, Lord. Don’t leave him alone. Make sure he’s safe. Let Desmond live.

[scrollll]

Lemme leave this here.

Nuth, nope.

I echo @ppeonppeonhan post, and don't trust Nuth AT ALL anymore. I was willing to trust him. I really was. And a small part of me still is.... But. There's something wrong.

Not only in his stories, but above all, in how he portrays Nant.

Let's look at the facts i gathered in between breaks and working hours:

Who all had flashbacks with Nant or contact with him?

Soong (when he raped and attacked Nant),

Teena (when he saved Nant from Soong),

Jump (got a bj from Nant, more on that later),

Prom (of course),

The baddie bunch (Zouey, Captain, Porsche, First)

and Nuth

Did I forget anyone? I don't think so.

So, because I am insufferable, let's go through these flashbacks and pay attention to how Nant is described.

Soong:

Nant was on drugs/alcohol,

they slept together (without consent)

aaaaaaand Nant stole Soong's drugs. Bad idea in general. (Side note, what's up with that? Was this an attempt by Nant to retrieve the discarded drugs?)

Welp, anyway, Soong got angry.

Nant was crying, he was panicked, he was scared. And here lies a nice underpoint:

! He didn't even try to fight Soong. He was freaking out, but not aggressive. He was fucking desperate !

Teena:

Held Nant in his arms to protect him from Soong.

Nant clung to him, still full of panic and fear.

! He tried to find protection with Teena instead of attacking or freaking out himself !

He clung to the first thing that promised safety, no matter how foolish it may have seemed at this moment (bc fr, if one guy is beating you up, there is no guarantee that his flatmate/friends are not the same brand of asshole)

Jump:

Encountered Nant in the same situation as Teena and Soong (he hold Soong back)

BUT then one more time where they had sex or at least oral sex since he commented on Nonts bj skills at the party as "Twins are just so fucking identical"

(side note: could this be the point he brought up with Porsche? About not wanting to get in anyone's sugar daddy's way?)

Okay, but to get things straight ('cause these guys ain't):

! Jump encountered Nont without flinching or faltering, suggesting that at least Nant didn't bite him in the dick ! (still, very little is known about the encounter of these two)

Prom:

Confirmed to Nont that Nant loved aftercare, so mostly the cuddling and hugging and talking afterwards.

He also told Nont that Nant never became violent or manipulative towards him.

! Further evidence for the statement is that Prom was very shocked when Nont took out the knife in their first scene. So SM contractually, injuries are also taboo. !

The baddie bunch:

They liked Nont.

They were worried about him, missed him. (Btw does Zouey just strike me as having a damn guilty conscience?)

Captain took advantage of Nant, yes, but none of them seem to have had an active fight.

! They were more shocked at Nant's hurtful behavior when Nont had acted him out. !

So. After this long text, a little brain training, what impression do we have of Nant?

=> He's solid as a soft-boiled spaghetti and seems to have the aggressiveness of a teddy bear.

Except with Nuth.

Only with Nuth does he seem to have been violent.

And that makes me wonder, is that true?

Is the scar really from Nant loosing himself and stabbing Nuth?

Or would it make more sense, if Nuth himself held the knife and confronted Nant about sleeping with other people, like in the dream frequence with Phop we saw already?

That Nant tried to avoid Nuth with the knife and ending up stabbing him on accident? And this ending in Nant apologizing in his "suicide"-video, because he felt guilty for it?

So yeah, lots of more questions than answers but still... Nuth you are yet to come clean my bro.

Edit:

Don't read this as excuse for abusive behavior, if Nant turns out to be an asshole... welp, gotta admit then that I was wrong XD

I just have very much space to think about Nuth and although he seemed like a red herring... whyyyyy the dog mask??? Where is the corpse??? Who stopped the video??? And why are you not talking Nuth???

(Can't get over him being the bad guy, the writer framed him too well for this XD)

[psalmsofpsychosis]

(still the same anon from all those Batman/Joker asks)

Be ready with those empty walls, pal, I'm on my way!! I've already thrown my suitcase in the car and filled up the gas-

You blew every expectation I had with that answer of yours and I don't know if I'll ever recover. I will absolutely respond to your answer but first I need to put my brain back together from being rearranged like a jigzaw puzzle. I'm definitely looking forward to reading that Jesus/side wound meta whenever you post it.

Until then I have a different question. I don't remember who said it but it was along these lines: "There are only three people in the world who find the Joker funny. Joker himself, sometimes Harley and lastly Bruce. And he feels so fucking guilty for it."

They pointed out how Batman does a lot of bad puns, same as the Joker, except he does it with a straight face and serious tone. For example: Bat-terry, Bat-bucket, Bat-arang, saying "hang in there Alfred" while Alfred is dangling off a metal beam. (Those are my rushed examples, not something the original poster brought up, so if they're unaccurate, that's my fault). Bruce will also just say the craziest shit and nobody is sure if he's serious or not. (Happens all the time)

I have a vague suspicion who it was but I'm not sure enough to @ them.

Joker and Batman's sense of humour and how they are somewhat opposed but still similar will drive me into an early grave I swear. Like that post that's still circulating somwhere that mentions how Bruce "lives and dies by the fact that nobody can ever tell when he's pulling their chain" and how Joker "craves to have his comedic genius acknowledged [but he's just not funny]".

I don't know about Joker wanting to be acknowledged as funny because I don't think he considers himself to be in the clown business. He definitely ranted about this to a captured Damian in a comic once. But he does make a lot of bad jokes. Maybe he doesn't think himself funny, either?

Any thoughts?

(Btw I'm not done pestering you yet, be ready to receive an ask about the Batman: I Am Suicide comic and about Martha and Thomas Wayne in the next few days. I still have to gather my thoughts though.)

(Can I just say that every single one of your answers has made my brain release a huge amount of serotonin? Or is that too much? Eh, whatever, it's the truth anyway. You've brightened my week considerably, thank you so much!!)

❤️❤️ hi friend, i adore receiving your asks and getting to exchange interpretations with you, and i can only hope that my superturbonexus unhinged answers have brought half as much joy to you as your questions have brought me 🥰

I kinda took my time with this ask (sorry!) because it's a rather big bite out of an intricate can of bat worms for me, can included. I also found and reread this particular post by @distort-opia , which put more a dozen more interesting worms in my metaphorical can— i'm not sure though if it was the post you were initially referring to.

So! The concept of jokes and generally being a funnyman is a subjective talk, and my personal preferences regarding where Joker and Batman place on the funnyman scale deviate considerably from what the general consensus in batman fandom seems to be (or the lot i have seen of it), so i guess i'll just take this opportunity to do personal talk, probably more than usual 😂 take it all with a grain of salt! (an ingradient that you'll find this answer contains a fair bit of actually—)

I dont think Joker is funny one bit, and i dont think he's particularly trying to be in the general sense of the word; to imply that he's "funny" both in-world and on a meta level would mean that being funny is his core motivation and the heart of his actions, that it's the foundational component, and to me it's not. A bit more a matter of personal taste on my part, but i actually feel lowkey irritated with Joker portrayals that lean too heavily on the "HE MAKES JOKES HE'S SO FUNNY!!!!!" act at the expect of every other significant characteristic he has, because like, funny is not who he is, it's just one of the 500 things he does. Sure he started as a fun character meant to bring in a dash of psychopathic delight to the early Batman works, but he has evolved to become so much more than that, which i like better than the more simplistic "he's a funny fun guy!!!!" characterizations. To me Joker is not funny, he is not supposed to be the way you pour salt on your dish but it's not supposed to taste salty, it's supposed to taste /right/. His jokes aren't the main dish, they're an added flavour meant to bring home a certain act: the performance. He's a showman, he's here to put on a good show, and that show doesn't have the end goal of being "fun", it has the goal of being iconoclastic and real and raw. But he can't exactly do raw, raw and sincere scares him, in a way he's a slave to his fear and tries to cage it and tame it and understand it the way Batman is scared of bats and everything they represent and he made them his very persona. Joker tries to be true and geniune and sincere but he can't, so he infuses his actions with jokes to soften the blow, shift the taste a bit. He also has the genius' disease; he wants to be seen through, interpreted, understood and reimagined, mirrored, and it's an itch only a certain fellow fucked up intellectual can scratch for him.

Batman deeply understands the value of a good performance and a viciously planned persona, he is a performer both as Bruce Wayne and as Batman after all. And he has the expertise to dissect and bring out all the nuance in Joker's performance, it's probably why he finds him funny. He understands the theatre piece, both when it's executed in a stellar fashion and when it falls flat on its face. noone else can bring this level of discernment to interpreting Joker like Batman does because what other villains do is actually less performance and more.... outright insanity. I think this is also the reason why Batman enjoys saying the most insane shit and making weird jokes at weird times and have everyone be confused by him, it's part of the performance. There are these little almost invisible acts that Batman and Joker catch of each other, that they want to catch of each other, "i'm shaking the persona a bit", like when an actor improvises a moment to keep the role fresh, but only the people in on the script catch it, to others it feels in accordance, not off enough to catch attention. It's one of their core points of connection and similarity actually, they both have their performances and they both wiggle in its frame, sometimes threatening to break through the confines.

[mountain-lion-gremlin]

sometimes I feel like the old community that built up the alterhuman / nonhuman community has been forgotten.

Like everything has been so humanized, our identities are no longer deep because we don't teach the newer ones to try and understand it.

Sort of now feels like a game of "what feels like you the best?" And obviously, that isnt bad nor has it even been a problem. I've just been having this gut feeling that the whole community is becoming more and more human and forgetting what brought us here in the first place. Why we even feel these sorts of things. Like being a part of yourself is just a side blog, just something that is an add on and not something that is apart of you if that makes sense...

I feel lonely a lot, because I can rarely find anyone who connects with their nonhumanity as deeply as I do.

Rven though I'm currently not practicing being nonhuman and focusing on my shifts - no, not practicing, releasing. I haven't been releasing recently due to life and existing really lol. But either way, I just feel like this emptiness from being human is leaking very deeply into these places that once went to these places to hide from that.

Maybe others understand what im getting at and feel the same lol. I know others can't tell the difference, but I certainly can. And of course being human for some is an important part of their identity! I mean like I love being human - there's so many neat cool things and it's so great that I can even write this out so other creatures and decipher my thoughts and gain meaning out of them.

I just feel like the older, deeper, and more core primal part of the nonhuman community has been shunned and forgotten because of the bad reputation it has. And it's dying, and it's just mournful to see people wander onto these alterhuman places that don't connect with them, and talking about something that this other group completely understands, but has been completely lost and forgotten about.

Its scary to think that the p-shifting community is dying. But people don't want to believe in things that challenge the rational world now, and that's okay. Perhaps it needs to die. I'll always be a p-shifter through and through though. I'll always be a shapeshifter, even if nobody knows or understands what that is anymore.

Perhaps, a new community will grow over these old roots and find new meaning to shapeshifting. Perhaps our flawed ways will be seen and avoided. I want to see a community that isn't dying or dead because someone is a dictator with no actual experience in shapeshifting. I want to see a community where being a hybrid is okay, being unrealistic in your form is fine, that discovering werewolves and shapeshifting through a TV show doesn't make you a faker.

The p-shifting community is flawed. I do hope the old dumpsterfire dies. And I hope to god that we come out on the other side healthier and more alive then ever. I will say though, I have a feeling that no matter what happens the meaning of physically shifting will be lost no matter what we do. It's too taboo, too strange to most, and defies all logic in tiny human brains. That's okay though.

The practice has never been bad, but the people have been. I believe that p-shifting has never been bad (Of course if you apply it correctly. Anything done incorrectly can cause issues, including p-shifting) but the people who claim it, the people who attempt to dictate it, are. We don't need to destroy and harm and ban people because they aren't what you want, because they don't fit your standard of okay cuz there isn't any "science".

ill probably cover that anothertime, I'm incredibly passionate about the issues in the shapeshifting/ werewolf / p-shifter whatever you want to call it community.

But anyways, this is a tiny post about just expressing how I feel about this lack of depth that I feel about alterhumanity as a whole. I feel like they are moving in a direction that has lost the core meaning of being something other than human .

I will say though, it depends on how you view yourself and your relationship with your humanity. Perhaps all along there has been a large majority of people who sort of identify with being not human, but are mostly human. Perhaps the shapeshifter community is just an extreme version of this, that's why there's a lack of depth to it (personally to me)

regardless. Most likely no one will read this lolll