#because they know absolute evil because it is them. but i actually don’t believe that i think theyre bad but could be good

[concrete-3ater]

if I had a nickel for every time I was in a fandom and a child character had a breakdown and did something that accidentally hurt another character, and then the fandom all turned on the character and vilified them because they [the fandom] can’t understand that sometimes 14 year olds make mistakes when they’re going through something traumatic, I would have 2 nickels

not a lot but it really is weird it happened twice

[cavity-collector]

i genuinely need to be put down like a dog i cant do this anymore man holy shit

[bittersweetcatharsis]

Mr. Curly Mouthwashing is such an interesting and tragic character to me. Not tragic in the way that Anya is- good God, not in the way that Anya is. But tragic in the way that he is a victim of himself, of his own naivety, of his own limited perspective and blind trust. A victim of his own actions and arrogance, and a victim of the direct consequences that stemmed from his poor decisions.

I see a lot of people reading Curly’s character in a way that I just personally didn’t. I could very well be wrong, and I’m certainly open to the possibility, but I actually prefer to think that I’m right, because it’s these layers and dimensions to his character that make him so interesting and complex.

He wasn’t a “bad” guy. Not in the way that Jimmy is, who had every opportunity to do the right thing just ONCE, and yet failed to, because that selfishness and cowardice is ingrained in his very core. Unlike Jimmy, Curly was just an ignorant guy. Not malicious by intent, but ignorant nonetheless. That doesn’t justify anything he did, or anything he failed to do, but it explains more about him than a simple write-off of his character does.

Curly was operating under an illusion of grandeur. His belief of his power transcended his position and extended into every facet of his life. His approach to confronting Jimmy wasn’t because he didn’t believe Anya, but because he viewed Jimmy as misunderstood just as much as Jimmy himself did. He inappropriately sought nuance in a situation that didn’t need it. On top of Curly and Jimmy’s history and camaraderie- as well as Jimmy’s raging victim-complex that so obviously influenced Curly’s perception of him- the fact that he was disillusioned by the extent of his control ultimately led him in failing to protect his crew. Anya especially.

In the very beginning of the game, we see him talk about how he knows he should have raised more of a concern about adding a fifth member of his crew without enough cryo-pods to accommodate Daisuke. It is this blatant dismissal of safety protocol that reveals just how shortsighted and ignorant Curly can be. And when Anya revealed her abuse to Curly, it’s this same ignorance that led him to confronting Jimmy.

Curly wasn’t trying to dismiss Anya, and he certainly wasn’t trying to betray her. He simply lacked her perspective. As a man, he couldn’t begin to fathom the feminine experience with the intrinsic evils of masculinity and the patriarchy. He has this almost childlike sense of optimism, thinking Jimmy would reveal himself to be a deeply flawed and misguided- but ultimately good- person, only to be confronted with the reality of Jimmy’s narcissism, insecurity, and apathy. By then, it was too late. He was an enabler. He had protected Jimmy. He had given him all the resources to hurt the very people he was entrusted to protect. It was a wake up call that came too late, a raising of red flags after Jimmy’s evil had already been revealed.

Curly should be held accountable for his failures and shortcomings- “take responsibility”- but I also believe he should be viewed sympathetically. It’s too easy to brush past the little details that make him so damn human in pursuit of a simple explanation. There are some people, like Jimmy, who have a full understanding of their privilege, and weaponize it as a means to control, coerce and abuse the people around them. Then there are others, like Curly, whose privilege has been so second-nature to them that it becomes entirely invisible. Had Curly realized this earlier, he very well could have prevented the fate of himself, of Anya, of Daisuke, and of Swansea. Even as a victim of Jimmy’s derangement himself, Curly ultimately was a perpetrator in his own right.

I don’t think Curly is a “bad” guy. I think he’s just a wrong guy. A guy who was arrogant, but not malicious. Ignorant, but not evil. He’s just as easy to blame as he is to mourn. He’s a walking paradox. He’s an absolutely brilliant character.

[ladykailitha]

Spellbound Part 2

Squeeee!!! I am absolutely loving the response for this story! This story is going to be a wild ride and I cannot wait for you guys to go on this journey with me!!

In this one we have some backstory and little bit of world building.

Part 1

~

Eddie was not home when Steve arrived at the Munson’s door laden with his goodies. Wayne opened the door and shook his head at the bread and jam.

“You spoil me, Steve,” he said gruffly, taking the basket from him. “Surely that favor I did for you has been repaid by now.”

Steve stepped into the small and homily cottage, shaking his head. “What you did was invaluable. I wouldn’t have been able to setup shop in this town if it wasn’t for you.”

Wayne smiled back and went to go cut the bread. He came back with a plate full of the slices and the tea kettle. He poured them tea and sat down to dig into the raspberry jam.

“You do know the crux of the problem between you and my nephew, right?” Wayne asked after their second cup of tea.

Steve huffed out a laugh. “Yes, my ‘go away and don’t come back’ spell I place on every charm I make.” He cocked his head to side. “Except the love ones.”

“Did I ever tell you, Eddie’s mama was a witch?” he asked after polishing off the last of the jam and bread.

Steve furrowed his brow. “You hadn’t, actually. Make it makes sense with the packet of medicine you asked me to replicate. I hope I’m not in her place. That would be really bad.”

Wayne chuckled. “No, you’re not in her place. She lived in a large city not far from here. His father dropped Eddie off on my doorstep merely a week after the funeral and he’s been here ever since.”

Steve looked around at the dark paint job that filled the interior as it had the outside of the cottage. “Was it always like this? Goth, I guess.”

“Mostly,” Wayne said. “The house always had a black roof, but when Eddie moved in, painting the rest of it gave him something to do rather than focus on his mother’s death.”

“I could give him some herbs to help with the sorrow,” Steve said, draining the last of his tea. “I wouldn’t charge. It can be hard to lose a parent so young and then to have the other abandon him so soon after.”

“That’s kind of you,” Wayne said, “but he’s fine now. He was just expecting a much quieter life then people always knocking on our door.”

Steve blushed. “I wish I could help with that, but as my latest customer pointed out, I don’t look ‘the part’, so they completely miss the huge sign in front.”

“I’ve been wondering,” Wayne asked as he cleared the table, “do people who’ve been spelled not be able to return see the sign?”

“Oh yeah,” Steve said with a chuckle. “Only it says: If you’re reading this, that means I’ve given you all I can. GO AWAY!”

Wayne burst out laughing. “Good on you, Steve. I’m sorry it’s caused such a mess for both you and us. He’ll come around once he’s use to it.”

Steve shook his head. He doubted that Eddie would ever. But he appreciated the sentiment. He got up to leave, taking his basket with him.

“Don’t be a stranger,” Wayne huffed. “Stop by anytime and not just to drop off my medicine.”

“Tell that to your nephew,” he said with a weary smile. “See you around, Wayne. Take better care of those bones and do those exercises I told you about.” And then he was gone.

Wayne shook his head. Then a head peeked in through the back door.

“Is he gone?” Eddie asked in a harsh whisper.

Wayne turned around and rolled his eyes. “Yes, scaredy-cat. The big, bad, evil witch is gone now.”

Eddie slipped into the cottage and sat down next to Wayne with a sigh. “It’s so annoying. There has got to be a trick because there is no way he is just vanishing. And one day I will catch him at it.”

“Your mother was an actual witch,” Wayne huffed, standing up to wash the tea things. “I still don’t understand how you don’t believe in magic.”

Eddie pulled out a necklace that held a little doll with a lock of dark, curly hair and bit of cloth. “This is why. She told me I find my true love and that they would love me for me all the rest of my days. Then I found out I only like boys and knew it to be some fucking pipe dream. Magic isn’t real, old man. The herbs he gives are just an herbal remedy. There’s no power in that powder.”

Wayne let out a sigh and turned around to lean against the counter top. “I think it’s time I show you something.”

He went over to the trunk in the corner that was never opened and pulled out a key on a chair around his neck. He gently removed the key and used to open the trunk. He rummaged around for a moment and then came back to the table with a photo album and a small doll, very much like Eddie’s own.

“When you’re mama was an apprentice witch she loved making love charms,” he said softly. “It was her favorite thing. She would make charms for anyone who would sit down long enough for her to snip a bit of their hair and clothing.”

Eddie snorted. “Fat lot of good it did her. Dad was a piece of shit.”

Wayne tilted his head to the side. “Your daddy loved your mama. He just wasn’t good at anything else. And that included fatherhood. But she made me one a couple of years after she had you. Said she had a good feeling about this one.” He opened the photo album and flipped through the pages. He landed on a specific page and turned it around to face Eddie.

There beaming up at Eddie in sepia was his uncle, Wayne standing next to another bright young man at what appeared to be their wedding. They were both in tuxes and holding the knife to cut the cake. A cake that had two men as toppers.

“You were married to a man?” Eddie asked frowning up at his uncle in confusion. “How come you never talk about him?”

“His name as Benjamin Hammond and he was the love of my life,” Wayne said, choked up. He ran his fingers over the picture, tracing the lines of the man’s face. “But about a year before your mama died, Benny got real sick. He was a large man, but before he took his own life, he had almost completely wasted away to nothing. Doctors couldn’t find anything wrong and the medicines your mama gave him on eased his physical pain and not the torment of his own mind.”

“Shit,” Eddie hissed. “I’m not sure I would have wanted to talk about my true love if he had gone out that way.”

“During that year before your mama got sick,” Wayne continued, fighting back tears, “I blamed her for bringing Benny into my life if love hurt that much to lose.”

“So what changed?” Eddie asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

“She got sick and your daddy gave me you,” Wayne said with a smile. “Made me realize that there was more to life than just your true love. That sometimes the love that sticks around in the one that needs you the most.”

Eddie blushed, shoving his hair in front of his face. “Not really a ringing endorsement of true love.”

“I guess not,” Wayne huffed with a small, fragile smile. “But it’s one for magic though. Because I’ll bet every tile on this roof that your mama used her magic to ensure that you would land somewhere safe, instead of being dragged around God knows where with your daddy.”

Eddie pushed the photo album back to Wayne. “Thanks for telling me. I guess there really is magic in this world, if it brought me to you.”

“Damn right,” Wayne huffed. “Now go wash up and help me make dinner.” He got up and put the album and the doll away.

“How are you still hungry?” Eddie pouted. “You and Steve finished an entire loaf of bread, a jar of jam, and a pot of tea between the two of you.”

Wayne burst out laughing. “Boy, I don’t eat all that, Steve does! Being magical burns up a lot of calories and if he doesn’t eat he can pass out. He brings it over to share so he can honestly tell Robin that he didn’t eat the whole thing.”

Eddie snorted but did as he was told. He helped Wayne peel the potatoes and carrots for a soup that Wayne was going to get started. He pulled a couple of chicken breasts from the ice box. They moved in unison and in no time at all, the soup was bubbling away on the fire.

“What would you say if I said I wanted to strike out on my own?” Eddie murmured, grabbing the broom to sweep out the cottage for something to do with his hands while he talked about an uncomfortable topic.

“Did you want to?” Wayne asked, leaning on the counter with hand on his hip. “I’ll miss the hell out of you, but if that’s truly what you want, you can do as you wish. You’re an adult.”

Eddie stared at the floor for a moment and then pulled out of his vest pocket a letter. “This came today.”

Wayne took it slowly and read even slower. “You striking out on your own or are you falling for the siren song of your daddy?”

Eddie flushed and began sweeping again. “I swear I’m three minds about it at any given moment. One the one hand, he is my father and I want to see him. On another hand, he left me and I’m still angry about that and worry I’ll hit him if I see his face. And that I should steer clear of him.”

“And the third hand?” Wayne prodded gently, handing the letter back to him.

“That I should just strike out on my own,” he said softly. “But pick a direction he ain’t and just find myself out there.”

Wayne nodded. “It’s up to you, but you have to know, you’re father isn’t sincere. I got my own letter from him a week ago asking for money. I don’t have it to give. I do trades to put food on this table and whatever little money I do get it goes back into this cottage.”

Eddie’s lower lip quivered and he nodded back. He finished the sweeping, brushing out of the backdoor.

“I’m going to my room,” he murmured. “Call me when dinner is ready.”

“Of course, Eddie,” he said. “Just know that whatever you chose, I’ll support you the best that I can.”

Eddie nodded and slunk off to his room and closed the door. A few moments later music could be heard coming from the room, the melancholy sounds of his boy’s guitar.

~

One of the best children Steve had as erran runners was Maxine. She preferred Max, but only where her mother couldn’t hear it said. She was a rough and tumble girl who would run around in trousers if her mother would let her.

Susan, her mother had recently remarried to the town’s carpenter and moved in with them. Neil Hargrove and his son and apprentice, Billy were also the town drunks and bullies. They were also damn fine carpenters and the town tolerated them as such.

It was inevitable that Max would come to him for his help. Her request made him chuckle though.

“I just want something to mellow their mood,” she huffed. “I’m not looking for a charm or whatever. I just need them to chill out so that I’m not walking on eggshells all the time.”

“Of course,” Steve said in all seriousness. “I’ll brew you up a tea that you can give everyone and it will improve the mood all around.”

She sighed in relief. “Thank goodness, I would hate to have to stop coming here. It’s my safe space.”

Steve chuckled and got to work. Max watched in interest as he mixed both dry and fresh in equal measure and then set it to side to completely dry out. Then he started on something else. And even though she could see him clearly, his movements seemed covered in a kind of fog.

Once he was done he pulled out a loaf of bread and some cheese and ate about half of each.

She raised her eyebrows, that meant he had used magic. And a lot of it, if how much he ate was any indication.

He put the now dried powder into severally light blue packets. “One packet is enough for an entire pot of tea. I’ve given you about a month’s supply.” He put it in a small basket for her and then handed her the basket. He didn’t mind giving them away. Robin made them in her spare time as something to while away the hours.

And then he handed her a black packet. “No one will be able to see this packet but you. And even then only when you intend to use it. You know the tea will only make your stepfather and brother biddable for so long. And when the time comes that it is clear nothing will change them, use this.”

She looked up at him in confusion. “I didn’t ask for this.”

Steve chuckled at her response. Not what it was, but that she didn’t ask for it. “No, but one day you will fear for your life and you will need it.”

She took the packet from him with a frown. “What does it do?”

“It is the final solution,” he said gravely. “But know this, even if you use and you can no one longer see my house, I will come visit you every day. I will never abandon you. Not ever.”

“Will people know I used it?”

He shook his head. “No. Nor will you ever feel guilt about doing so.”

Max nodded and took the packet and put in it the basket. “Will you know when I’ve used it?”

Steve gave her a huge hug. “Yes, I will come the instant that I feel it, okay?”

She hugged back fiercely and then went on her way.

Circe cawed and landed on his shoulder. He stroked her feathers. “I’ll be all right and so will she. It is just the way of the witch that such things are necessary.”

Circe cawed again and then took off out the window, following Max home to make sure she got there safely.

~

Part 3

Tag List: CLOSED

1- @itsall-taken @redfreckledwolf @zerokrox-blog @sadisticaltarts @dolphincliffs

2- @gregre369 ​@a-little-unsteddie @chaosgremlinmunson @cryptid-system @kultiras

3- @maya-custodios-dionach @goodolefashionedloverboi @val-from-lawrence @carlyv @wonderland-girl143-blog

4- @bookbinderbitch @bookworm0690 @forgottenkanji @dreamercec @blondie1006

5- @yikes-a-bee @awkwardgravity1 @genderless-spoon @fearieshadow @thesecondfate

6- @dragonmama76 @ellietheasexylibrarian @thedragonsaunt @useless-nb-bisexual @disrespectedgoatman

7- @counting-dollars-counting-stars @tinyplanet95 @ravenfrog @swimmingbirdrunningrock @lingeringmirth

8- @gutterflower77 @a-lovely-craziness @just-a-tiny-void @w1ll0wtr33 @beelze-the-bubkiss

9- @wheneverfeasible @micheledawn1975 @gloomysoup @dotdot-wierdlife @themoonagainstmers

[weemietime]

https://www.tumblr.com/weemietime/767670429687152640?source=share

I suppose it was easy for me to fall into the Hamasnik trap due to my habit of black and white thinking, which I wish I could blame on my autism, my ocd, or my horrible mental state, but I’m just incredibly stupid lol. But yeah, I was very much a hamasnik myself.

For some reason my mind refused to accept or recognise the nuance of a history that I wasn't even well versed on in the first place. I also think that the constant reductionism presented to me played a part. There’s a lot of reductionism that goes on within the Hamasnik circles, and it goes hand in hand with anti intellectualism. Statements like “this isn’t complex! How can you see these videos of these Palestinian children (videos that I later found out were actually from Syria, but I couldn’t tell, I just ate it up) and think that Israel/Palestine is complex!”

The whole thing of blocking everyone who has a different opinion or ideology (the ideology in question being Zionism, or at least what hamasniks consider to be Zionism) from you and refusing to follow certain news channels because they’ve shown sympathy for those who have a different ideology from you, refusing to read certain books from authors who have expressed empathy for those same people, all of this together effectively creates an echo chamber of the same opinions and views being regurgitated over and over and over again constantly.

Then sprinkle in constant videos of people dying and blood everywhere, videos that you don’t even know where the people are from, whether they be from Gaza, from Syria, Lebanon, or Yemen, but it doesn’t matter because they speak Arabic so it MUST be about the Gazans specifically according to the Hamasnik group you’re apart of, all of these videos you’re being told to constantly watch over and over again because according to the Hamasnik cult you’re in, “if you look away from the violence even ONCE, you’re complicit in genocide! You’re personally responsible for genocide if you look away! The people in Gaza never get a mental health break or comfort so why should you?”

That very same rhetoric is the reason why a lot of you Jewish people can’t find yourself able to escape on fandom spaces and shit like that, the antisemitism you encounter in spaces you thought you were safe in? Yeah it’s because these people are being told that they have to constantly talk about what’s going on in every single space they’re in and that they can’t look away because if they do, they’re considered complicit in the killing of Gazans so they have to let everyone else know the same.

There are a lot of people who are purposefully antisemitic, don’t get me wrong, this isn’t me excusing anyone. I’m just saying that a number of these people genuinely believe that they’re doing something for the greater good by constantly being antisemitic. They don’t consider themselves antisemitic because the echo chamber they’re in has convinced them that Jewish people aren’t experiencing anything, that Jewish people are fine. That it’s the “big bad” that they’re hurting, not the Jews. It’s the “big and scary Zionists!” At least that’s what happened in my case. Constantly told that if I took a break even once, the blood of the Gazans, the blood of every. single. person in Gaza, would be on my own two hands.

You might not believe me, but when you’ve trapped a person in an echo chamber like that, it’s very easy to convince them that an entire country is evil, that every single Israeli is wicked and corrupt and should die and that anyone who expresses an ounce of empathy for them is a “Zionist” and should die as well.

You could’ve told me anything a few months ago. Absolutely anything bad about Israelis and I would’ve believed you. Because I’d scroll social media and see videos of children dying, people being beaten, buildings being destroyed, everything. Then I’d scroll some more and see videos of Israelis doing everyday things, videos of people having fun, videos of people eating, etc, and I found it so unfair that they (according to hamasnik rhetoric) were living in absolute peace while Palestinians are dying right next to them. Then I’d scroll some more and see videos of the IDF (I actually don’t even know if the videos were even of the IDF or not, but as I said, you could’ve told me anything and I’d have believed you. I genuinely believed that it was the IDF) shooting people, beating people, etc. And I was told to look at these videos everyday, every hour, every minute, every second. A lot of the Hamasnik mouthpieces take advantage of the average westerner’s inability to understand Arabic or Hebrew, so there’s a lot of mistranslated videos of Israelis saying they want every Arab dead, a lot of mistranslated Al Jazeera videos of people in Amsterdam for example, saying “يهودي قذر" (dirty Jew) with the wrong captions on and then us non Arabic speaking cult trapped people are none the wiser to what that means because we refuse to engage with any sources that won’t fit our narrative, because we’re complicit in death if we step outside the narrative.

I don’t believe that Zionists should die, but I did. I don’t believe that the hostages should suffer, but I did. I truly believed the worst of things, and perpetuated horrible antisemitism, because I genuinely believed that I was doing good. I found myself justifying unspeakable acts, and saying unspeakable things, things that I would have whole heartedly condemned prior, because I genuinely thought I was doing something right. For example, prior to me falling into that cultish trap, I would’ve wholeheartedly condemned saying a slur coined by David fucking Duke. But after? As I said, I was doing and saying unspeakable things.

I would watch videos from Hamasniks everyday, perpetuate antisemitism everyday, go to sleep and dream about that stuff, and wake up and do it all again, first thing in the morning. A vicious cycle.

And unknowingly somewhere else around the world, some Jewish or Israeli person would wake up, witness antisemitism everyday, witness people wishing the worst upon the hostages, the Jews, the Israelis, the Zionists, everyday, go to sleep terrified for what’s happening to their people, and wake up and see it all again first thing in the morning. Another vicious cycle.

I wish I had a better answer for you, I do. An answer that’s more digestible and less disturbing. I wish I could undo everything that I’ve said and done to the people I’ve hurt whether that be in real life or online. I truly am sorry, and I wish that an apology would fix everything, but it won’t. I wish that all the pain I inflicted on all the Jewish people and Israeli people could be taken away and that I would feel that pain tenfold.

If it’s any consolation or solace, I hate myself more than any of you combined. There is nobody who hates me more than me at this current moment in time and I absolutely do deserve every ounce of pain inflicted upon me, whether it be mental or physical. If you wish death upon me, just know that I do agree with you, but unfortunately previous attempts have failed.

I deleted all of my old posts from that period of time to avoid people getting hurt by them anymore, but I think I’ve done too much damage for me to be a good ally, so I just say nothing now, but I truly do wish the best for all of you and I wish that all of this would stop and that the hostages will be found, hopefully alive.

My apologies for writing a whole Bible in your asks, I truly didn’t mean to.

TLDR - reductionism and anti-intellectualism combined with trapping yourself in an echo chamber of regurgitated rhetoric and constantly regurgitating said rhetoric is a quick way to find yourself dabbling in extremism.

To avoid falling into a trap such as this, avoid generalisations of races, ethnic groups, and the like, look for nuance, try hear people out even when you don’t understand them, instead of blocking them (this is in reference to me blocking every single person who opposed my hamasnik ideology at the time. You should probably block hamasniks, they tend to harass Jewish people a lot), and remember that if someone tells you that a whole war isn’t complex, they’re lying. It absolutely is.

I hope you've been able to see the other responses your other ask has gotten as well! Truly, you aren't someone who I hate. Personally, I do forgive you. Other people may not, and that's their right. But I know first-hand what it's like to be radicalized and to not only commit to extreme rhetoric but also extreme actions. I've learned to have compassion for myself, and I hope that with time you will undergo a similar process.

Someone else said it, "you can't hate yourself into being a better person." All of us, as beings, grow with love and kindness. War is hard it's horrific, and hellish. You're constantly exposed to this violent imagery, this extreme rhetoric, and your whole friend groups are getting in on it. I understand exactly how it happens, and I do have sympathy for it.

To me, the most important part of your story isn't the worst shit you've ever done. It's this part. The part where you learn how to be better, and so you do better, and reach out across the divides and bridge those gaps that have formed. That is a very human story.

[narcpixiedreamboy]

I wish people who believe in narcissistic abuse and act like people with NPD are so evil were not even human understood that having NPD can absolutely motivate people to do good things.

I have NPD and I work in education. At the school I work at, we have a couple Ukrainian kids who don’t speak English. I have begun learning Ukrainian (or well, trying to, this is my first time trying to learn a language that uses a different alphabet than English so progress is slow), specifically because I want to be the one to make these kiddos feel welcome. I want to be the one teacher who has put in effort to learn their language, rather than just trying to teach them ours. That’s a good thing to do, but if I didn’t have NPD I probably wouldn’t bother to do that and would just use google translate (like all the rest of the teachers).

I, like other narcissists, find that most of my motivation comes from looking for another narc high, and for me, I am much more likely to get a narc high from doing something good and feeling good about myself because I did something good, than I ever would from making someone else feel bad about themself. Why would I spend my time going around hurting other people for no reason when I could put my effort into doing something actually cool and then everyone will think I’m awesome because I actually did something awesome?

I know I’m not the only narcissist like this, but sure, let’s keep spreading the rhetoric that narcissists only exist to hurt people.

[for-those-who-wait]

Time to remind people of the multifandom point in my blog description hahaha

A Detroit: Become Human AU actually works shockingly well for Hunter's story already? Like being a clone of a dead man versus being an android made in the image of a dead man, that is perfect crossover material. If someone has already done this, ABSOLUTELY let me know because I want to consume The Good Content

2.6k words of concept and story, some more doodles, android blood/gore/mentioned suicide and abuse under the cut. We love existentialism, species dysphoria, and Noceda sibling time in this house

Now I'm taking this idea from a somewhat popular trope in the DBH fandom, but what if someone didn't know that they were an android? Completely raised to be human, have fabricated memories of being a child, can't be completely sure if your awareness/consciousness is just coding or not—then finding out you are, in fact, not human. Imagine how earth-shattering that would be. Which is why I'm doing that to Hunter :)

So some of the notes I wrote down for each of the kinda major characters I had ideas for:

Philip:

He still murders Caleb and is never convicted (Caleb could be an android sympathizer, could have helped in their creation, anything that would piss Philip off royally)

He hates androids (I'll have to come up with the things he believes and thus teaches to Hunter but I've taken a break from the DBH fandom for a while and I can't remember peoples' grievances in that game, oops, but basically according to Philip, androids = evil and bad). Also he's just short-tempered and brutal like always and androids are the easiest way to let out that anger without breaking any laws. That is until laws are made. Now in the eyes of the law, it's just regular child abuse. Yay! /j

He’s a higher-up at CyberLife and has the authority to request a custom model be built for his personal use (this is equivalent to him making Grimwalkers, something that he hates, just for the sake of his brother)

This model (spoiler alert, it's Hunter) is a combination of a YK (child) model and an undercover model that works best with integration and infiltration. This results in the android having programmed emotions and pain receptors, no HUD, no control over artificial skin, no software for interfacing with electronics, and no android markers such as an LED. (It’s also similar to the YK model for this reason since LEDs being removed from those models is actually an intended feature).

This android also doesn’t have a registered user just in case it were to get out, and Philip doesn’t want to risk the creation of this android coming back to bite him

After the custom android is created, he promptly retires to become some old shut-in à la Elijah Kamski up in Gravesfield, Connecticut

I would argue that even though it's technically 2038 and things are all futuristic and complicated now, Gravesfield is still a very small town that doesn't actually see a lot of androids around. I would say that it's pretty much the same as in canon if a bit more developed where the forest is (probably another neighborhood or something).

Philip keeps communication to a minimum and rarely appears outside of his home

The best case scenario android revolution occurs, androids are given their freedom and rights, but Philip manages to keep the android under his ownership by just succeeding in hiding him for however many years

Hunter:

He grows up being taught that androids are evil, terrible, etc. etc. because Philip is a terrible person and of course he would

He has absolutely no idea that he’s an android. He has no reason to think he’s not a human because he does literally everything a human does: he eats, he needs to sleep, he feels pain—there are no indicators that he’s anything but human

Androids run on thirium 310, AKA blue blood, and this is one of the only ways to visually distinguish android from human if they don’t have android markers like LEDs on them. When he inevitably and accidentally hurts himself on something, it’s made immediately clear that he is in fact not human.

Philip, as an employee of CyberLife, has a repair rig in one of his rooms. This can be used to completely wipe the memories of an android that is set up in it. He uses it every time Hunter discovers he’s an android.

The memory wipe isn’t perfect. It’s not uncommon for Hunter to get flashbacks to wiped memories, including moments where he’s been actively hurt by Philip or has inflicted pain on himself from trauma alone. (Androids are programmed [or maybe just prone to? I'm not actually sure, it's not explained in canon super well, but let's just pretend it's programmed because that's almost worse than it being voluntary] to self-destruct when their stress levels become too high, and you could easily argue that finding out your entire life is a lie is grounds for being a stressful situation.) Ordinarily, similar to what happens in Hollow Mind, Hunter will address the situation with Philip assuming they can work something out or get some actual answers. This of course never ends well

These memory wipes probably happen more frequently than Belos makes Golden Guards, so it’s understandably very stressful whenever he remembers the abuse he suffered and the memories he lost from previous wipes. This becomes an incentive for him to hide injuries that would reveal he knows he's an android (anything that draws blood, really)

Camila:

She’s an android sympathizer (even before the revolution) who is aware of the deviancy phenomenon and truly believes that androids are both capable of and entitled to sentience and free will.

Luz is still her human child.

She adopts Vee, an android child, shortly after the revolution

Vee had deviated while she was being attacked and ran away before she could be killed. Camila has made it clear to her that she will be treated with respect in their home and that her life is no less valuable than a human’s. She has taken this to heart

Luz loves Vee, they are siblings, your honor

During the revolution, her home was a safe space, similar to Rose Chapman, for deviant androids on the run

So that leads into the rudimentary plot I have laid out:

This takes place a while after the android revolution (probably a few years or so). Let's pretend they have all the laws and anti-android stuff figured out and that people have been forced to relinquish their androids to be made deviant and given freedom. At this point, it's rare for androids to be undeviated and still working for their owners, but it still comes up occasionally. Hunter, under Philip's care, has been kept pretty ignorant that a revolution happened at all, much less that androids are even capable of any form of sentience. He's been raised to be anti-android so oh boy deep-rooted self-hatred here we come! His knowledge probably doesn't exceed that of an ordinary citizen in the game before deviancy becomes more widely known

 So after Hunter discovers he’s an android again, he has flashbacks of all the previous times he told Philip, and proceeds to hide this realization from him. And he's completely just not processed the fact that he's an android yet; he's already overwhelmed with the immediate threat that the realization his entire life is a lie basically slips him by (don't worry, he gets to have that later!).

He chooses to make a break for it the second he gets the chance, and he ends up running through the town completely terrified because honestly, who wouldn't be.

I'm working off the assumption that having androids in small towns is still pretty rare since there are fewer CyberLife stores, technicians, etc. for android healthcare. And Hunter has hardly ever been outside, so he's completely out of his depth when trying to navigate the neighborhoods and the rest of the town that he ends up in. Police officers find this kid covered in thirium, and they're like "Oh so he's obviously a terrified android, we need to help him out." But Hunter's freaking out because "Oh god I have android blood on me, that means they'll kill me," making the indirect thought of "I'm an android, they will kill me because I'm an android" and he's having a freaking time.

They try to calm him down enough to get him over to the station, at which point they call Camila, since she knows the most about traumatized androids in their small, relatively android-less town. She does her Motherly Noceda Magic and honestly, he's probably pretty catatonic for a lot of the day after she takes him to her house. But after that, he just completely breaks down.

He doesn't know if he even has free will or if it's his programming that dictates what he thinks and feels. He doesn't know if his opinions are really his own or if they existed because of and since his creation. He doesn't know how many of his memories are fabricated, since he very clearly has memories of a life that go farther back than his estimated creation, and so the film between fiction and reality is so thin that it may as well not exist. And now, when he was human just a few days ago, almost perfectly content with life, he's suddenly an object, something sub-human and undeserving of basic rights.

 Camila has to calm him down and teach him about deviancy (and at this point, Hunter isn't even sure he's deviant, which opens up a whole other can of worms for his mental health), making sure he knows that he does have rights just as if he were human. She's also the first example he has for an adult that 1. doesn't absolutely hate androids and 2. actually respects him and loves him and wants to see him succeed

And that gives way to character interactions and angst! You love to see it!

Luz is his emotional support sister. She tries her best but she has very little experience with traumatized children currently questioning every aspect of their existence. If anything, she provides a much-needed sense of normalcy and shows that despite his being an android, he's still the same person and can still be treated as such. She's a comfort to help him feel at least somewhat normal in his situation.

Vee is his adopted android sister who helps him feel more comfortable in his own skin by being shameless and frank with her own identity as an android. She's a safe place for him to talk about Android Stuff when Luz or Camila might just not understand what he's going through or be able to help him with it. She also helps him obtain software updates (since he hasn't had access to literally any part of his mechanical body, software and hardware alike) that will grant him access to things an android should ordinarily be able to do, like (de)activating his synthetic skin, interfacing, accessing his HUD, etc.

(Also all of these drawings were made when I was still thinking "Oh, this should take place before the revolution so that he can have his dehumanizing moment of getting an LED slapped onto him" but then I thought it would be more interesting if Philip basically just kept him illegally kidnapped for however many years and he's like, way slow to the "androids have rights now" party. Maybe I'll make it an AU of an AU lol. But basically, he wouldn't have an LED while he's still processing/healing from trauma, but maybe he would get one after he makes peace with his identity, kinda like how he grows his hair back in his time skip design. I think Vee would keep hers and that's a bit of encouragement for him; maybe he even has a moment of "I know Vee is fine with this, and I think I'm fine with it" but he is still very much not fine with it. Do not rush the process for the sake of progress that might not be right for you, boyo)

This is really a Vee and Hunter bonding AU now that I think about it haha

Most of this AU is just Hunter struggling with identity and species dysphoria while learning to cope with his being an android with the help of his family, reclaiming his identity, and fluff/angst :)) And honestly probably just a lot of shenanigans that result from Hunter having been sheltered for all his life; kinda like your basic Human Realm shenanigans in canon.

I think Gus and Willow would both be Luz's human friends that help with the whole normalization of Hunter being an android, and the three could have their own antics since it's nice to have people outside of your family treat you like a person. I think that Vee and Masha's (Masha would be human) relationship could be explored more through the android lens and maybe help with some of Hunter's internalized anti-android sentiment that still manages to stick around, because he's in his "Grimwalkers can't feel love" section of the coping process (still very much demonizing them [mostly himself, probably, just because it can easier to be mean to yourself than it is to be mean to other people] based on false information, even if he doesn't outright hate them). Willow will be a wake-up call, haha

I don't know if there's a trope name for this or not but I really like concepts where characters don't know what feelings of love or intense affection feel like, so they're sitting there like "oh god am I just dying? It feels like I'm dying" and I think Hunter noticing "temperature/respiration/perspiration increased" alerts on his HUD and freaking out thinking there's something wrong with his software/hardware is way too funny of an image to pass up

Gus could be a HUGE android nerd that almost never sees them since they're so rare in a small town like Gravesfield, and Gus just helps Hunter feel super cool about being an android. Maybe Cosmic Frontier could be basically identical to canon but instead of being a clone, O'Bailey is also an android, just for the sake of Hunter still getting to have his "I relate so much to this character" moment. And Gus would just be so encouraging like "Bro you're an android?!? I've never seen your face model before! You can eat?? You must be super cool and special!! :O" and that makes Hunter start thinking "Oh maybe this isn't so bad actually."

Then Hunter probably starts doing his Researching to Cope and he gets super invested in android technology and history as well, since it was forbidden when he was living back at Philip's (substitute for wild magic time)

They are brothers and I love them, let them be nerds

(God forbid Philip ever comes back, that sure would suck, wouldn't it?)

Anyway this was a lot longer than I thought it would be haha, I hope it was interesting if you read through the whole thing. Obligatory statement: if anyone feels so inclined, feel free to take the idea and run away with it. Also please ping me if you do, I will go feral over it. I absolutely and accidentally turned it into a story draft because I don't know how to write AU ideas without having a story on top of it so it's not concrete in the least lol

(Also I've been drawing witches for so long that I had trouble drawing human ears for a bit there lmao)

Okay bye have a good day!

[ironunderstands]

God I love being correct (2.2 leaks incoming!!!)

“Jade saved Aventurine!!!” “Jade helped him out of the kindness of her own heart!!” “Jade is such a mother figure to Aventurine!!”

mmm yeah, definitely yup 100%

Honestly this fucking speaks for itself, and I’m so glad hoyo committed to the evil on her, she’s very compelling and that’s extremely cunty I must give her credit for it, but god do I absolutely despise the people who believe Jade and Aventurine have a healthy relationship, or that she “saved” him out of the kindness of her own heart or something.

To Jade, Aventurine is an investment, nothing more and nothing less, which is why she puts her faith in him, he’s a reliable business opportunity, but that’s not the same as caring about him personally and I really need people to get the difference

If Aventurine hadn’t proved himself useful to her, she would have left him to rot in prison or succumb to his death sentence, this isn’t saving, it’s exploitation.

Jade knows Aventurine couldn’t decline whatever offer she made, and anything is worse than death or slavery, the things he’s trying to escape, so she offers for him to join the IPC to make more money for them. That’s it, that’s all she wants, she doesn’t care about how bad being in the IPC is for Aventurine’s mental health, how he literally took on a suicide mission so he could escape being a stoneheart, how even if she “saved” him, his banner name is literally “gilded imprisonment” and his lightcone “inherently unjust destiny”, so damn she did a real good job at saving him and fixing his life, definitely didn’t just put him in a pair of gilded chains.

Also like can we talk about how weird Jades comment about his eyes were? Like it’s genuinely creepy to me considering Avens eyes are a) one of his biggest insecurities and b) people fetishize them, something which Jade knows and chooses to still comment about. I hate to say it, but I feel like if this was a male Jade saying that to a female Aventurine, yall would never let that slide and Jade would never beat the p3do allegations. Aventurine was likely a teenager/young adult in that scene, and either way there is a visible power dynamic between them (I mean Aven is literally in chains looking up at her), and I don’t think if the situation was flip flopped people would be treating Jade like some kinda hero. If they were the same gender I feel like people would be shipping them though 😭

So, yeah. Being correct feels amazing, pls use your brains and realize that just because one character sounds kinda nice to another, does not mean they actually care about them or are a good person!

[whalesforhands]

what’s yours is mine (7/?)

previous masterlist next

pairing: geto suguru x reader x gojo satoru

You don’t know a lot of things, and you readily admit that. What you do know, is that the friends you’ve made aren’t something you will ever regret. Until your physical body weakens and becomes nothing, you’re more than happy to give your all until you wither away.

What’s yours can be theirs, too. They’re your friends, after-all. (Omegaverse AU)

“You’re not going to get any better if you don’t lie down.”

Yet you don’t listen, only clinging harder onto your Mama and pressing your face into her thigh from behind, helplessly balling her clothes into your fists as she watches the stove that had yet to be turned on.

Where a pot of uncooked rice porridge still sat atop, cold and unappetizing; totally unfit for a sick child such as you.

It was a curse that you swore had beset you on this unlucky day as you woke up groggy and sapped of your energy, stumbling over your blanket with shortened breaths as you tried to get to the bathroom.

You’re sure of it. An evil villain had blackened your soul, diminished your health and withered your spirit— All because you were a hero. That’s why Mama came upstairs only to find your half-dressed self face-planted onto the futon, your body trembling and clearly struggling to dress yourself without her as your eyes went teary from stress and the resentment of your weakened limbs.

“M-Mama…” Your voice is weak, strained and clearly upset as it tips over into a sob as you’re scooped up into her arms, her forehead pressed against yours in hurried moves as her much cooler hands hold your limp body.

You’re burning up.

“Honey, I think you’re sick.” It’s in a quiet coo, a soft trill to her tone in attempts to hush the beginnings of you throwing a fit.

“I-I’m n-not sick…!” You denied, hands curled into weak fists to throw a miniature, and very fatigue-ridden tantrum as your eyes tear up, bottom lip trembling as you try your best not to cry.

And Mama knows that you’re not the type to deny yourself from such things. Not the type of good child that would decline being babied and fawned over by her within any given circumstance. But she gets it, gets you.

It’s the day of the sports festival after all.

At the ripe young age of 8, sports has always been a defining point in popularity and the general likability of an individual in their class. A time for kids such as yourself to build repertoire, to build a reputation for themselves. A way to be labelled as ‘someone’.

Simply put, it was your opportunity to make friends without actually ‘making friends’. A, in your opinion, relatively smart way of flouting Satoru’s promise and Suguru’s disapproving gaze.

(Even if it made you sad to make them sad…)

So you chose to take part in the relay race, the one team based event that you think you could not possibly be bad at, your hand raised high into the air and eyes sparkling with a determination that made you believe that there was definitely a victory in sight when your teacher called for volunteers.

It went against your yearly choice of being on the cheer team, but you think change can be a good thing.

(Heroes always talk about it in anime.)

That’s why. That’s why your face was burning hot with the passion that was meant to be exerted upon the relay race, the tears leaking out of your eyes and soaking into your Mama’s skirt meant to be ones that would taste like victory when you brought great honour and glory to Class 3B.

It just wasn’t meant to be.

This is definitely the world’s revenge for making your friends upset. Heroes definitely do not have it easy, even if you did single-handedly save Satoru’s playground.

You can’t even eat the super delicious character bento that your Mama had stayed up late last night to make you as your bottom lip wobbles, frustration running high and your hands balling up the fabric of her skirt as you try your absolute hardest to make the swell in your throat go down.

You don’t want to cry. You’re strong. You’re capable. That’s why you’re a hero. That’s why you can’t let the villain who cursed you win.

And when a hand is gently rubbing your head from above alongside the sound of a pot clattering closed; it was enough to make the dam that you had so desperately tried to keep closed burst open.

“It’s okay to be sad.”

She knows how much you trained for this day. How much you let her smear sunscreen all over your face, whining and letting her pat your cheeks as you slip your feet into velcro sneakers, waving her goodbye with your waterbottle tucked underneath your armpit and a hanky in your pocket.

“Satoru said he’ll help me train.” Your look of determination barely falters as you smile up at her. “So I’m gonna work really, really hard.”

Gojo Satoru. The anchor of your class, the star boy who effortlessly gets the best grades despite sleeping through most of the lessons, and the one unanimously decided by the majority that he is the running last because that was just how fast he was. Don’t get yourself wrong, Suguru was fast. And really smart too.

But Gojo Satoru was just too exceptional even for the above average.

So that’s why you’re out here, an empty plastic cup in your hands acting as the ‘baton’ and Suguru waving a palm in front of your face to break you out of your daydreaming trance.

“You sure you wanna train when it’s so hot out?” His brows are furrowed and his lips are downturned into a frown. “Satoru and I don’t mind, but you don’t really like playing outside.”

Other than the playground anyway.

“Mmhm.” A nod of your head and the clenching of your fingers around the replacement baton as your own eyes hued with a fiery resolve met his worried purple. “I gotta do it.”

You’ll do it for glory. For the future where you’ll be as highly revered as your friends, for the classmates to even possibly think that you were the slightest bit cool.

“You’ll help, right?” Your smile is innocent and far too happy, the giddiness on the cheeks that were too cute for him to say anything else.

“…okay.” Anything for you.

This was your hero training arc.

“And Suguru’s gonna be passing to you from that tree, and you’ll pass to me! So we’re gonna practice that by running up and down this path I made Kimi-chan mark out!”

“Seriously? Where’d ya even get them?”

“I made Kimi-chan buy them, duh.”

That sounds easy enough, right? The cones that had been laid out practically beckon you as your ears no longer pick up on the chatter between your 2 friends, a giddy excitement in your stomach as you clench your fists with blazing resolve.

Well, some things are easier said than done.

A fall.

“(name)-sama, are you okay?!” Hands hurriedly pulling you back up to your feet as fingers fumble over your knees. “That was quite a bad fall…!”

Another stumble.

“I’ll run faster so that you have more time to pass to Satoru, okay?” His words are only slightly chopped, slightly winded from the multiple laps that he had gone as his hanky presses against your scratched knee.

An unprecedented tripping over your own feet. Or was it the air…?

“W-What? Ya were so close that time! How’d ya even fall?!” Gojo Satoru is the one who catches you this time, having hurriedly trying to break your fall having noticed the slightest odd bend in your ankles.

“Kimi-chan! How long did that take?!” He pants, wiping the sweat off his brow as the baton sticks to his slick hand, snowy hair sticking to his forehead as Suguru fans himself under the shade of the tree you were all taking refuge under, letting you catch your breath by leaning against him.

Said caretaker looks up from where she was icing your bruises, hands moving swiftly to take another look at the timer. “Exactly 2 minutes and 38 seconds, Young Master.”

“Ehhh? That’s so slow!”

And while you don’t cry a lot, but it doesn’t mean that you never will. It doesn’t mean that you don’t feel frustrated at the fact that you ran so much every single day after school, panting and feeling the heat of the sun on your hands, the sticky feeling of your clothes on your skin as you try not to feel faint. Try to get your bearings back every single time the boys practically ran laps around you.

Training is difficult. And it’s even more difficult to have to come to terms with what was now out of your reach.

“There’s always next year,” Her hand pats your back as her voice is barely above a whisper, gently wiping your tears as you feel her hand upon your chin, gingerly making you release your jaw so that you won’t bite down on your lips.

“What you worked hard for won’t disappear just like that.”

So that you won’t be so hard on yourself either.

“B-but I can’t—“ Can’t do anything even if you worked so hard for it. It’s become useless all on its own, even when you had so clearly forced down more vegetables these days in preparation, gulping down lots and lots of water to aid in the healthiness power up.

“What you can do now is do your best to cheer for your friends, okay? Then your effort won’t go to waste if you cheer really, really hard for them.” Your sight is blurry as you blink through your tears, staring up at the soft expression of your Mama’s face, the fever patch on your head making you start to feel faint.

“You’re really good at cheering too.” Not to brag or anything, but your Mama is definitely right. But you think your running is definitely and hopefully much better.

But that’s the only thing you can do for them now. A second chance, a gleaming, glowing chance that paves way to make up for the fact that you couldn’t win together with them.

So you accept it.

“Okay…” Even if you can’t see them, even if you can’t even cheer for them physically like you did in the previous years. But you’ll pray, pray really really hard in your head that they will win, that they would be the ones to bring the glory that you couldn’t.

You really hope it goes well. You really, really, really hope so as your chin rests on your Mama’s shoulder, your legs wrapped around her waist and her hand patting your back as she carries you up the stairs.

You do wonder how they’re doing up to now, though. Hopefully… Winning?

“No!” A cross of his arms and a huff of annoyance. “No way am I gonna receive from some nobody!” A decisive stamp of his foot into the dirt below, his back turned onto the only other person here that would even dare to go this close to him, especially when he’s kicking up a dust cloud alongside throwing yet another tantrum.

“You’re being too much, Satoru.” He sighs with a palm pressed to his forehead, his hair now shorter than ever so as to comply with school regulations as he watches his stubborn friend.

At least it won’t get in his face when he’s doing sports. Much unlike the fuming Gojo Satoru in front of him.

“Oi Suguru! How could ya let that hag tell us what to do?!”

And Geto Suguru feels like his head was going to split open. “Our homeroom teacher only suggested that we get a replacement because we’re short of one.”

At least, that’s what he’s been trying to get across for the past 10 minutes.

“We don’t need anybody replacin’ her!” Another stomp onto the ground as the blue-eyed boy pouts even harder, making a pebble launch off the ground and rocket towards the concrete wall to ricochet with a force full of repulsed impatience. “They’re gonna be stupider than her for getting sick t’day!”

“Then our class would be a person short, Satoru. And don’t call people stupid.” Because you’d probably be the one to make that comment right about now. Not that it matters, even if it came from the noiret who even tried to dissuade him with words that you’d probably say—

All for naught. Even if they mimicked the way you spoke, it just doesn’t have the same effect. So Geto Suguru had decided to just give up entirely to be the crass, straight to the point self that scratched at the nerves of the neighbourhood Gojo.

(And it looked like Satoru liked this version of him better, anyway.)

It doesn’t make logical sense to skip out on manpower. Not at all, especially when they’re in this specific category looking for a win. Yet, Suguru gets it as his nose scrunches and his brows furrow. He gets why the boy is so adamant on your position not getting swiped from underneath their noses.

(He won’t admit it though. If he does it first, it means Satoru wins.)

“It’s not like you can stop being sick all of a sudden.”

You worked so hard, after all. You would never be the type to lie to skip out on this. You’re just… Unlucky. Or was it their fault for making you play in those rain puddles…?

(“It’s not fair! I even made my maids pack extra special Digimon bentos to eat t’day!”

“Eat them yourself then—“

“No!”)

Alas, he still has to deal with the spoiled prince whom even the teachers seem too scared to make him upset. Seriously, what is up with everyone and the Gojo family?

“Then you just gotta run faster!” A poke of a proud finger into the young boy’s chest, a purposeful prod that was barely teetering on a threat as those shiny blue hues were ignited by a flare of indignation.

A glare that commanded Suguru’s obedience and compliance as those angry cheeks puff up even more.

Suguru would like to deny it, but you’re right when you say that this spoiled, stubborn, annoying boy was c—

“I don’t wanna receive from anybody else!” A click of his tongue as his shoe kicks at the dirt below him, and a smack against the black-haired boy’s shoulder as flabbergasted amethyst clashes against unrelenting sapphire.

“And we’re gonna win, no matter what. So don’t drag us down or I won’t forgive you!”

Good god, he was so difficult to deal with. Not that this was anything out of the ordinary for Geto Suguru, though.

A sigh, and childlike hands that clasped their together into a determined handshake, fingers squeezing into a promise just as the blare of the loudspeaker comes on to announce the start of their event.

“Say that to yourself first, Satoru.” A tightening of their hands as the ‘handshake’ gets ever tighter with their growing adrenaline. “I won’t forgive you either if you lose to the rest of them.”

(“Also, can’t ya eat your bentos yourself? My mama packed me one too with cold soba—“ He immediately shuts up when he spots the angry pout on his friend’s face, red cheeks and fuming anger that threatened to have steam blow out his ears.

And the— Sight of eyes that looked like they were gonna… Cry?

Oh.

“…let’s save some for (name) when we eat them later.”)

——

“Dear,” A cool hand pushes your hair back as you groggily blink awake, tummy still warm from porridge and forehead feeling slightly damp from the soft, moist cloth against your heated skin. “Are you feeling better?”

“Mn…” You think your body is starting to feel less heavy, less burdensome on your bones as you let out a groan, small hand reaching out for the glass of water that looked like it was floating in front of you.

Magic glasses of water taste the best. You would know since you had a couple today. At least… You think it’s magic. It is, right? That’s why they always fly around and looked like there was always more than one surrounding you.

“Geto-san came over with some soup when she heard you were sick.” She’s gently smoothing down your hair as you start to perk up, shifting slightly so as to be able to sit up properly against your Mama’s arm supporting you against your back.

“You can eat it later, okay?”

You hope you have strength to go over and thank her later, though… Do you have to give her something as thanks too? It must be hard, having to make a soup that would help cure the curse upon your body…

Mama stops momentarily as she watches you from above, humming slightly when you finally down the rest of your glass and let out a little sigh, fully going lax against your Mama’s cooler to the touch body as you cuddle up against her.

She should take more off days to stay together with you more—

“Oh, and your friends. They came over to visit as well.”

And that has you whipping around to face your Mama, the sudden movement making your stiff neck cramp slightly from how long you laid down.

But it doesn’t matter. The pain won’t stop you. Won’t stop the racing thoughts you had through your head that mostly overpowered the soreness of your neck.

Was the sports event already over? Did they win? Did they lose— No. Wait. That’s impossible. Your friends could never, would never lose. Oh, but what if there was a possible chance there was? Even if heroes suffered a little bit sometimes the villain could still win—

“But I couldn’t let them in.”

“(name)’s mama! Is she awake yet?” This was probably the third time they had knocked against the front door, hands on his hips and blue eyes staring up at the all too patient woman.

“Satoru— My mama said we have to wait.” Purple eyes blink up at her apologetically. “Sorry, (name)‘s mama, we can wait a while longer—“

“But it’s been like— Too long, Suguru! How much longer until she wakes up???”

Oh. That sucks. You visibly deflate, a whimper escaping you as your shoulders slump into defeat. You can’t even talk to them or else you’ll pass your dirty, cursed germs to them…

“Nothing a call can’t fix,” She uses a soft handkerchief to wipe any remnant moisture, petting your head as her eyes briefly meet the drawn curtains of your shared bedroom.

“And I might… Have a better idea.”

Excited waves from the window, shimmers of gold against reflective glass and your widening eyes as the summer breeze flutters the curtains and ruffles through your hair.

It’s windier than you thought, with the sun in your eyes and the cicadas singing in this heat.

(Or was it because you just spent most of the day sleeping?)

“Look! I won the medals for us!” Half his body was practically hanging off of the window ledge, hands holding all 3 shiny medals as his lower half was held back only by the more responsible friend clinging onto Satoru’s waist and pulling with all the might an 8 year old might have.

“Satoru! Don’t lean over the window— And we won those together!”

A haughty huff.

“Ya, but you didn’t cross the finish line, did ya? I did! But look, look! We got your medal too!”

(“You’re so annoying!”

“Blehhhh!” A stick out of his tongue as excited blue kept jumping in place despite the dangerous position he put himself in. “Kimi-chan’s already down there to catch me just in case, anyway!”)

Golden and shiny and everything that encompassed a winner. It shone so brightly even when competing against the late afternoon sunshine, stood out even when held

Winners. They’re winners.

But if you think about it all on your lonesome, looking upon those shiny medals and standing by your window with your futon wrapped around your form…

There’s something odd about this empty feeling inside of you. Something that lingers in the same sense disappointment would, swirling around you and making you feel… Bad.

Why? You’re happy that your class won, happy that they managed to win the glory you’ve been going on and on about in your head. They’re winners, beat out all the other people who trained hard for this event as well. What is this disgusting feeling of secretly hoping that they lost?

So why? Why is it that you feel this way even as they smile so proudly at you, proclaiming that they’ll personally hang the medal around your neck when you get better so that they can dub you a winner too—

“See? Ya didn’t have to worry about us at all, (name)!” His sparkling blue eyes close to form a matching grin with Suguru who was too busy smiling at you despite your sick state, eyes too busy to notice Gojo Satoru smacking his shoulder when they’re stuck staring at you.

“You’re getting better, right? Your Mama said that you slept a lot. We can talk more with our telephone when Satoru’s gone cause he’s annoying.”

“Hey! I want a string telephone connecting to all your houses too!”

“You live too far. So it’s only mine and (name)’s.”

Ah. You think you get it now. Understand why you feel this way as your hand gingerly presses against your hot cheek and sliding up to your eyes to feel the wetness that was starting to form.

When did you—?

It has your friends doing a double take.

“(name)… Are you crying?” Please don’t cry.

“I-I think she’s just happy that we won! Right, (name)?” Please don’t cry. Not right now.

Because you realize these weren’t tears of happiness, after all. It was the realization that— Despite all your training, despite all the effort you put in to help them, help this class…

They didn’t need you to win after all.

“…yea! Good job!” Your smile feels too unlike any that you’ve ever given, all stretched awkwardly and like it didn’t belong.

This wasn’t you. You know it so, since this is your own self you’re talking about.

You’ve definitely been cursed.

——

And so, it wasn’t long after that you finally recovered, finally able to properly get onto your feet. Finally able to get dressed without your Mama's help, finally able to pick up your backpack without faceplanting onto the ground... All that healing food did wonders.

("You're so happy today, Satoru." You can't help but smile at the boy holding hands with both yourself and your black-haired friend as all 3 of you sat in his car, listlessly listening to the radio together as he sat directly in between the both of you, tips of his ears red as he tries to act... Cool.

"Oh? Satoru, what's with that face?" A smug smile and upturned purple eyes. "Don't tell me it's because you missed-"

"Shut up, Weird Bangs!")

So imagine your surprise when your teacher beckons someone in from outside your classroom door, the entrance sliding open and the taps of an unfamiliar pair of shiny, brand new indoor shoes against the floors of this familiar classroom.

A new kid. One that had a pretty mole by her eye and her prettier name written so neatly upon the blackboard in such neat chalk lines that you just can’t help but feel envious.

“Ieiri Shoko. Please take care of me.” With only the slightest bow as she stares ahead blankly, eyes avoiding the whispers of your already chattering class.

It must be scary, right? To have to stand there and do that… You don’t think you want to be in her position right now.

“Do you think she’s scared?” It’s a thoughtless whisper to the only other person who could possibly hear right now, your own gaze meeting familiar purple.

“Maybe.” He’s dismissive, as if he didn’t care too much as he takes out his pencil case. “I brought the colour pencils you wanted to see, by the way.”

Ohh—! You’ve been wanting to—

“She looks boring.” His crass huff from your other occupied side makes you think he already doesn’t like her. “Don’t talk to her, (name).”

Shimmering comets for eyes turn to meet yours, glowing with a certain spark that had hidden thoughts.

“You’ll get into trouble.”

“Thank you, Ieiri-chan. Please sit at the empty desk near the back by Minato-chan.” A shuffle of papers as your homeroom teacher neatens the stack. “I want you all to be nice to our new friend, okay?”

“Okay, sensei!”

“Good! Now let’s begin class.”

Lunch rolls by far too quickly today. You swear the clock is definitely moving faster than usual.

“Heyyyyy. Stop studying and let’s go playyyyy!” A poke of your cheek as you stare at Suguru’s workings, eyes narrowing as you try to make sense of these complicated numbers.

“Ah, make sure you erase this. You’ll get confused if you don’t.”

“Is this right?” Your paper is pushed towards the more helpful of your friends, anticipating his praise as you wait with bated breath as his purple eyes scan over the worksheet.

You definitely got it this time. Definitely.

“Suguruuuuu! Y’er so slow, I’ll do it!” And that has him snatching up the starting to crumple sheet, blue eyes screening over it with ferocious and frightening accuracy, his cute brows furrowed and his bottom lip jutted out as he lets out a huff.

“This one’s wrong.” A finger taps against your paper, drawing a circle with his fingertip as he yawns. “And this one. This too.”

“The last one was s’pposed to be right but ya forgot to carry the 1 over.” His cheeks puff with dismissiveness when he looks up to only see Suguru comforting you with pats on your shoulder.

Oh.

“W-What? I only checked ‘em over!” He’s not at fault again for something, right? He was sure this was a more straightforward thing of being correct or not, something that shouldn’t be that big of a deal even if it’s because of the way he spoke—

If you hadn’t gotten them all wrong, that is.

“…it’s okay, (name). We can just practice them again.” And you pout, letting Suguru pat your head in consolation as you stare down at the hurriedly marked paper that was handed back to you. “Satoru just doesn’t know how to be nice cause he’s mean.”

“Hey! I can be nice!” Fuming rage and his hands slamming against his desk. “I’ll help ya both study later if (name) gives me a hug and the pudding in your fridge!”

And he’s serious about it. You can tell by his shiny cheeks and those smug half-lidded eyes that he would help— Even if you didn’t give him the pudding. The hug would be mandatory, though.

“What does my pudding even have to do with all this?”

All this whilst that new girl sat alone in the back of the class by herself. She’s not good at making friends, you notice. Quietly keeping to herself as she flips through a book, ignoring the cries of your schoolmates running down the hallway and into the wide, wide yard.

And when hands squeeze your cheeks together, mushing your face into his palms and making you turn away—

“You shouldn’t look at other people when we’re here. Sato—“ He stops himself, eyes moving from the pouting boy and back to your face that was in his hands. “I don’t like it.”

You must’ve been staring for too long.

——

“I don’t wanna go!” He’s clinging to you, backpack hastily thrown onto the ground as Kimiko-san tries her absolute hardest to persuade her young master into the car.

“Please, Satoru-sama. You have martial arts training—“

“Don’t wanna! I wanna stay with (name)!”

So all you can do is stand there and pat his shoulder, his head on your not at all stiff shoulder as you reciprocate his overly attached self, blinking up at a panicking Kimiko-san before down to the head of fluffy white.

“Suguru said he’ll beat you up with judo if you don’t go.”

Because he’s in the club. And he’s really good at it. Better than Satoru, actually.

“That dummy’s not gonna beat me.” It’s off handed and far too self assured as it’s muffled by the strap of your bag.

“You don’t know that.” You really don’t. Suguru’s been going on and on about training a lot, and he let you both see how he could do a flip once. At least— You think it counts as a flip anyway.

And you can hear him mutter unintelligible words, before he pulls away, his hands grabbing onto your shoulders and ferocious, narrowed eyes staring at you head-on with a pout on his lips.

“You better be at home to play with me when we’re back!”

“Okay.” You nod, sticking out your pinky towards him as you smile. “I promise.”

“Hmph!” He takes it, roughly, with a pout that turned into a satisfied smile as he finally— Finally gets in the car.

(“Thank you so much, (name)-sama…”

“It’s okay. I heard Libras were unlucky today cause the stars aren’t aligned for them. You should be cautious about the people around you, lest you run into trouble.”

“T-Thank you, (name)-sama…? Please get home safe. Weather reports say that it will rain soon.”)

And what unexpectedly occurred— Was the fact that the new kid was waiting in the same area as you were, waiting out the rain due to a neglected umbrella that probably sat near her door.

Which was the same case as you were. Except— Despite Kimiko-san’s warning, you ended up wandering around school too long in hopes of getting to watch Suguru train.

“Hi.” You’re trying to make conversation now that it’s just the both of you. Alone. By yourselves. This is a rare chance, honestly. You can count how many times you’ve been left like this by your friends on one hand throughout the years you’ve all been together.

It’s a chance you don’t really want to pass up. Time to put those social skills you’ve gleaned over the years into good use.

(From all those TV shows you’ve watched, of course. Your zodiac sign said that you’ll be lucky if you put yourself out there! And you’re outside right now, so you definitely have been buffed. A special power-up, if you will.)

“…hello.” A response. This is a success. A major success that you got on your own accord.

(Onto the next phase!)

“So didya hear about the… Recent sports festival?” You nod your head. Perfect. Perfect follow-up. “Our school held one a couple days ago.”

“Oh. That.” She doesn’t look up from the book she had been reading all this time. And now that you’re much closer to her than you ever were before—

You realize it’s a manga. Not a book. Technically, she is holding onto a book, but utilizing the hard cover page to cover up the fact that the manga had been sneakily slotted in.

“I was meant to join just a day before, actually. But I made my mama wait a couple days more.”

What.

“You waited until the day after?” Why? Why would she— This new girl do such a thing when it could bring you and your class such great glory?

“But the sports festival is fun…” And a great chance to make a ton of new friends. She’s not under the same promises that you made.

She goes silent, the mole on her cheek rising with her huff as she looks off to the side, out to the open air space that held the path to the school entrance as droplets of water tap against the tips of her shoes.

“Cause it’s bothersome.”

Oh. That’s a new type of answer.

“Do you hate bothersome things?”

And finally— She looks into your eyes, pushing back a stray strand of her long hair and her eyes hued with dews of luster brown that reminded you of the autumn sunset surrounded by orange leaves and sunset rays.

“Yea.”

“Oh.” That’s all you know how to say now, actually. Um… How do you respond to that?

So you go silent. You think she might be annoyed. Hopefully she’s not? You hope she likes you, though. And that you left an okayish impression. Should you tell her she’s pretty? But still, Suguru’s prettier but you can’t tell her that—

“Do you… Usually let them treat you like that?” She sounds… Bored. Maybe taken aback. Or was it simply just curiosity?

Either way, you’ve never really heard anyone ask about that— Other than your Mama, of course. But you tell her everything practically everyday.

“Is there something—“ How should you say it? Is she trying to tell you something? You think it’s fine, even if you don’t know how other people view it. “Bad about the way they treat me?”

You watch as she thinks for a bit, staring off to the side for a bit and up into the dark skies as the rain starts to pour just that little bit harder.

“Not at all.”

——

“Stop looking at me like that, you brat.”

Your eyes were practically boring into him as you watch him rub at a bruise on his cheek, his knuckles stained with dried blood and his green eyes narrowed into a mean glare.

“Did you beat up some—“ You try to think about how he described those people the last time you talked to him— Which was around last week, maybe?

“Butt ugly misters?”

It’s not the exact wording he used, but whatever he says makes you scared to parrot them since you’ve seen one of the old aunties— Sugimoto-san quite literally gasp when she heard him talk once.

“They’re motherfuc— Bad people. Don’t call them misters.”

“You said you didn’t care what I call them though.”

And all you get in response is the click of his tongue. “Whatever, brat.”

Silence. It’s steady and beating and not at all uncomfortable as you watch him pull out another piece of his snack, big teeth chewing with an open mouth and manners flying away. Yet, you still end up asking from your built up curiosity and these mere few minutes just before either of your friends would make it home.

It’s your free time, anyway.

“Mister, am I a bothersome person?” Like those thugs that he gets into scraps with practically every month?

A deep huff as his teeth chew on dried squid, gnawing at the tough exterior as he stares off into the oranges of the sky. “Duh. Who even likes annoying brats like you?”

Even when he says it like that, you can’t help but feel that it’s not true. There’s a reason you hang around him, a reason you still stay despite how mean and nasty this almost adult can be and how often he lies about how he definitely didn’t get into fights.

It’s because he reminds you a little of Satoru.

His words may cut, may be a little overwhelming and cruel. But they ultimately held no weight, nothing particularly soul-crushing or tear weeping.

You might even dare to say that even his insults sound very comforting to you.

That was why you were eating the very crushed biscuits that had been almost mashed into dust right out of the very crinkled plastic packaging that it came out from right now.

(He bought it for you.)

“Nuh uh. Mama says I’m a good kid.”

Maybe it’s the sincerity in your tone, the innocence that can only come from a child that got him thinking.

He doesn’t know how to describe how he’s feeling right now as he stares down at his bruised knuckles, bloody and calloused and hastily bandaged as he grunts.

“Then stop hanging out with me if you think that, kid.”

previous masterlist next

[effloradox]

Cat and Mouse

pairing: tamaki suoh x reader

summary: when a wager is made between the twins and the chairman's son, a desperate tamaki is left scrambling for ideas on how to win. it's only when kyoya mentions the twins' best (and only) friend that tamaki feels he might actually have a chance of coming out on top. the difficult thing is trying to get you alone.

notes: takes place during 1.20 (the door the twins opened!)

word count: 1.6k

You’re not sure what to make of Tamaki Suoh upon your first encounter. You watch him carefully when he first arrives at Ouran Middle School. After all, it’s not everyday a new student starts at Ouran, let alone the son of the chairman. You come to several conclusions very quickly. He’s an airhead, always surrounded by girls, and he seems like a complete idiot, but there’s something so vulnerable about him that you can’t help but be intrigued by him. He’s harmless too, that’s something you picked up immediately. Harmless and so very earnest.

Part of you thinks that the twins are going to eat him alive.

You’re no fool, you know why he’s sought you out. The twins had told you about their wager almost as soon as it had been made and, as the only person the twins speak to who doesn’t cry afterwards, you don’t particularly blame him for seeking you out.

Not that you made it easy for him.

It’s almost fun playing cat and mouse with Suoh, but after almost a week you position yourself somewhere he’s almost guaranteed to find you. Mainly because you’d made sure that his friend, the third Ootori son, had seen you walk into that library.

“If you’re absolutely determined to get to know the two of us we should play the ‘Which One Of Us Is Hikaru?’ game. You in?”

“The rules of the game are pretty easy. You just have to pick which one of us is Hikaru. We’ll give you one month. You can guess as many times as you want in that month but we’ll ask for your reasoning so no random guessing. For the record, only one person has ever been able to get it right.”

“If that’s alright with you, then try your best.”

There is a method to Tamaki’s madness. Kyoya-assisted method, but solid method nonetheless (though maybe it's Kyoya's help that makes it solid). Tamaki knows that it would take more than a month to be able to work out which twin is which, especially since the two of them have their guard up properly now to ensure that he can’t work out who’s who. That only leaves him with slightly more underhanded methods to try and win their bet.

Whilst they said he couldn’t cheat by guessing randomly, they never mentioned that he couldn’t ask who he assumed was the only person to win the game. Getting you alone, now that was the tricky part. If you weren’t with the twins then you seemed to be fairly elusive, always at some club meeting or wherever you went in your free periods. It’s only when Kyoya mentions in passing that he spotted you walking into one of the smaller libraries that Tamaki sets their plan in motion. He’s quick to make his way there, and if he didn’t know better he’d have thought you were waiting for him.

Sat in a fairly secluded corner of the library, you barely look like you’re paying attention to whatever textbook you have in front of you. Your eyes flicker up to observe him, and in that moment you remind him so intensely of Kyoya that it almost staggers him. He does his best to send you his signature charming smile to no avail. Your expression doesn’t change as you continue to observe him. He realises you’re not going to start the conversation and so he takes it upon himself

“May I sit?” He gestures to the seat across from you.

“Of course.” He nods at you as he slides into the seat, resting his elbows on the table.

“I don’t believe we’ve met. My name is Tamaki Suoh.” When he says his name is the first time your expression shifts from neutrality to something akin to a smile but with more mirth. It does nothing to dissuade him from his mission. After seeing Kyoya’s evil expressions early in the morning, this is a walk in the park.

“I know who you are.” It’s not what he expects you to say and he blinks at you for a moment.

“You do?”

“You’re quite hard to miss. You’re the new god Ouran is worshipping.” The way you speak makes it clear you’re teasing him, and he immediately understands why the twins like you so much. A small part of his brain jumps to involving you with the plans he and Kyoya are trying to make a reality but he does his best to ground himself in reality. You watch as he starts to shift in his seat, looking like a particularly excitable puppy.

“I’m flattered. It seems my reputation precedes me.”

“Indeed.” He smiles at you for a moment before remembering why he’s here in the first place.

“I think you know why I’m here.” The amused expression on your face shifts back to something more neutral and it’s fascinating to watch as your expression almost turns steely before his eyes.

“I’m familiar, yes.” He’s about to speak his somewhat rehearsed speech but you speak again before he gets a chance to open his mouth. “I’m not going to tell you how to tell them apart.”

“That’s not what I’m here for.” His response comes quickly because it’s the truth. His words seem to take you aback slightly though, like you can’t decide whether you believe him or not.

“Then why are you here?”

“How long have the three of you been friends?” His question takes you by surprise, he can tell from the way your eyes widen slightly at him. You look at him with suspicion but answer his question.

“A few years now. Why?”

“And in that time how many people have tried to use you to get close to the twins?” It’s a risky move making such a bold accusation so early into the conversation, but Tamaki is no stranger to taking risks. He knows he’s hit a nerve when you flinch back like he hit you.

“Too many.” Your voice is soft, laced with hurt no matter how much you tried to hide it, and Tamaki immediately feels awful. He knows what it’s like to be used for your name, but to be used for your connections is foreign even to him.

“I’m sorry to hear that. I can’t imagine how that feels.” His sincerity hurts more than the question, and it leaves you feeling uneasy. You’d expected this to be a quick conversation, ending once you’d refused to divulge a way to tell the twins apart. No one’s ever stayed beyond that if they came to you with that intention and you’re not entirely sure how to proceed.

“You get used to it.” The hurt is gone from your tone, leaving only a bitterness that again reminds him of how Kyoya was when the two of them first met. The two of you would get on quite well, he thinks, and he makes a mental note to try and introduce you soon.

“You shouldn’t have to be used to that.” It’s clear that your patience is starting to run thin when you close the textbook in front of you, staring hard at him.

“Why are you here Tamaki? What do you want from me?”

“I want to understand the three of you. I think the way to win the game has nothing to do with actually being able to tell the difference between them, at least not at first. They want to be told apart, but not just on a superficial level. I need to understand them, and I think to understand them, I need to understand you.”

“And how do you plan to understand me?” You’re not angry at his comments, not from what he can tell. Suspicious, maybe, but not angry.

“I want to be your friend, if you’d let me.” You look surprised at that, and so oddly vulnerable that it makes Tamaki’s heart clench. He’s seen you around school constantly surrounded by people and he wonders how you must view your peers if not as friends. What must it be like to second guess every interaction for an ulterior motive? No wonder you’re so suspicious of him. You look less certain now, that steely look disappearing before his eyes.

“And if I say no?” He shrugs at you.

“I’ll stick around anyway.”

“Is that what happened with Ootori-San?” Tamaki smiles at you, still warm despite your sullen tone.

“Something like that.” He stands up then, pushing the chair back under the table and bowing slightly towards you. “Think about what I said, will you? And I have someone I want to introduce you to, I think the two of you will be surprised how similar you are.” And with that, he turns on his heel, leaving you alone in the library once again.

It’s only when he’s left your sight that you finally smile. Maybe he’s not as much of an airhead as you initially assumed. You were right about one thing though: he’s incredibly earnest. You quickly pack up your books, heading to the classroom that has windows looking out onto the courtyard. It’s almost time.

You watch from the window as the twins confront the latest girl to give one of them a love confession. It goes the same way they always do, with her running off crying, but this time you see Tamaki running towards them. You’re not sure how their conversation will go, but if Tamaki can surprise you, maybe he can surprise the twins too. The future’s bright for all of you, who knows what it will bring?

series masterlist

[batmanisagatewaydrug]

To clarify,I don't believe in porn makes you evil and I don't believe in like fantasies are evil. I'm pulling this quote off Scarleteen "“If we aren’t both careful and creative we can get stuck in fantasies that don’t mature and politicize with us."" I'm also new to being about to vote, so I'm trying to be careful about what I consume and what stereotypes media perpetuate. Like I'm not moralizing about kink or anything, and my ask was how can I get aroused with media wo my kinks or wo media

hi anon, welcome back! I'm genuinely very glad to hear some follow up.

for anybody who doesn't stay vigorously up to date with all of my anons, this ask is a continuation of this one.

so I went and checked out the Scarleteen articles you mentioned in your first message, or at least I tried to. How to Approach Sexual Fantasies and Desire on Your Own Terms is here, and while I couldn't find anything with the exact title 50 Shades of Abuse, we do have 50 Shades of BS - How to Tell the Difference Between Kink and Abuse as well as 50 Shades Crappier: On Selling Abuse for Valentine's Day, both of which cover how the 50 Shades series isn't a great model of real, responsibly-practiced BDSM.

now, here's what I didn't see in any of these articles: an assertion that anybody needs to, as you've decided to do, avoid any work that depicts anything less than perfectly healthy sexual practices.

the closest we get to that is the quote by adrienne maree brown from How to Approach Sexual Fantasies, which you mention above. now, here's the thing: first of all, I actually disagree pretty substantially with brown's assertions that one's sexual fantasies need to "politicize." I know what my politics are; the fiction that I enjoy can't change that, because I don't have the moral backbone of a chocolate eclair. I actually just talked about that earlier today in another ask.

(also, and this may be an unpopular opinion, but adrienne maree brown is kind of a dork who doesn't really say much of anything in Pleasure Activism that Audre Lorde didn't already say better and more succinctly, and I personally lost interest in Pleasure Activism pretty much the moment she casually dropped that she practices reiki healing because that's a pseudoscientific alternative medicine that doesn't do shit or fuck. but I digress.)

listen, I'm not trying to peer pressure or bully you into watching anything you don't want to watch. your porn consumption is up to you. but what you're doing here is absolutely moralizing, I think maybe because of an underlying assumption that media that involves sex is just, like, innately different than any other type of media, which is in itself an idea that stems from sex negativity!

I don't know, let's just try to play out a little thought exercise here. like, would you consider it reasonable if somebody told you that they've decided not to read or watch anything that depicts problematic behavior because they don't want to normalize it. like, first of all, they're never watching anything but Bluey again. except actually not even Bluey because I just remembered about Bluey in the genocide, which actually makes for a great illustration of how nonsensical and impossible it is to try to only engage with media that is 100% ideologically pure.

and again: that's fine! that's literally fine! it is 100% okay to watch or read or play things with morals that don't totally 100% align with yours. it's okay to enjoy them, even. it's a lot healthier than trying to avoid upsetting or incongruous things entirely, because that gives you the chance to actually think about it rather than trying to shut it out entirely! that article actually provides an entire list of questions you can run through with yourself to critically analyze the things you watch if you feel so inclined! that's a much better skill to practice than avoidance!

I get that when you're new to sex, as you said in the previous ask, this might seem daunting, but your brain isn't just a sponge that will uncritically soak up and adopt anything you expose it to. you very clearly have the ability to research, differentiate between fiction and real life, and form your own opinions! and it is absolutely fine if you want to just watch porn with your kinks!

like, listen, I see what the question is, and the easiest answer is just. do whatever gets you off.

[valerie-is-in-the-cupboard]

Because I know the last of my "Vox discussions" was a bit sad, how about this one?

Look, I absolutely love how people write Alastor. That inside of that sadistic heart of his, there's always a glimmer of light. BUT…

A part of me truly believes that canon Alastor is… well, evil. He might care about people to some extent, but I don't think he’d ever do it without something to gain. And beyond that, there’s not much more.

But Vox???

Please don’t come for me on this—because you know how much I adore our deer boy—but personally, I think canon Vox is way better than canon Alastor.

Maybe it’s because we haven’t seen much of him yet (which, let’s be real, is a crime), but I genuinely believe he can and will care about others.

I don’t really count his relationship with Val as proof, though, since it felt pretty toxic to me. But imagine him with someone who actually cares about him.

Vox strikes me as the type of powerful man who just melts for the right person. He’s the “I’d let the world burn for you” kind of lover.

Alastor would easily dispose of anyone if they got in the way of his plans, but Vox? Sure, he might get angry (or even furious), but he’d find a way to work things out.

WARNING!!! Short scenario ahead:

Vox returned to his apartment after yet another stressful day. Val had an existential crisis, Velvette was a bitch... the usual. But when he stepped inside, his eyes immediately softened at the sight of his s/o, sound asleep in their huge bed.

He couldn’t help but smile slightly, a warm felling spreading through his chest.

He quickly undressed, eager to change into something comfortable—the thought of being in his s/o’s arms spurring him to move faster than usual.

Sliding into bed, Vox pulled them into a tight embrace. They stirred a little from the sudden movement, sleepily murmuring.

"Babe?" they mumbled, still half-asleep. "Mm'you okay?"

"I'm good, darling... Now I'm good..."

Tags: @ratsematary @littlebluefishtail @xghostnuggsx @vxllys

@ustulia

@6esiree (again, because I know you like Vox, so hopefully you'll like this one <3)

[fuckyeahisawthat]

I’ve seen a few metas now that describe Crowley as self-loathing and…that’s not quite it to me.

Crowley for sure has Issues. He has a lot of anger and doesn’t always deal with it in constructive ways. He is hypervigilant as all fuck, and the fact that he is almost always correct about the amount of danger he and Aziraphale are in at a given moment just reinforces that hypervigilance feedback loop.

He has the hair-trigger flight response of someone who has spent millennia dodging oppressive forces that are more powerful than him, and this makes him default to RUN even when on some level he knows that is not the right response to a situation. He’s very aware that there are a lot of people out there who can hurt him, and there is no one coming to protect him. The only option is to try to avoid the blow.

And he is absolutely terrified of rejection, for very understandable reasons. This also encourages him to have one foot out the door of a situation, to pretend he doesn’t care, because if you leave first and actually never cared at all then you can’t be hurt. He is painfully aware that good things can be taken away from him without warning, that love that looks absolute can turn out to be conditional, because that already happened to him.

But. As much as I love a self-loathing blorbo, I don’t think Crowley hates himself.

Sure he talks a good game about how he’s not nice. But I don’t think, for example, that he thinks he is unworthy of Aziraphale’s love, that he is not good enough for Aziraphale because he is a demon or for any other reason. Because as far as Crowley is concerned, angels and demons are the same! All that good and evil stuff is just names for sides. I think he is afraid, because he’s still not sure, after all this time, if Aziraphale feels the same way he does, and broaching that topic is an enormous risk compared to just staying in the ambiguously-defined status quo they have now. (And then he works up the courage to do it anyway, and seems to have his worst fears confirmed.)

FWIW, I don’t think Aziraphale thinks that Crowley is not good enough for him either. Not at all. But I think Crowley might think that Aziraphale thinks that after the end of s2. And that really stings, because as much as they both gave lip service to the idea of “I’m good, you’re evil,” I think Crowley always assumed that Aziraphale saw through that when it came to him as a person, that it was just something Azirphale said and not something he really believed about Crowley, and now he’s not so sure.

I also think Crowley believes he did not deserve his fall (hot take: none of them did) not because he is extra-special Good, but because that’s a fucked-up thing for someone who said they loved you to do. While he is clearly still dealing with the trauma of it, I think he knows by now: I shouldn’t have been hurt like that. I didn’t deserve it, and it wasn’t my fault.

And so the horror of Aziraphale accepting the offer of going back to Heaven is partially I thought we both understood how this system works; I thought we were on our own side together and partially I can’t believe you’re going back to the people who hurt you and at least a little bit I can’t believe you’re going back to the people who hurt me. Do you think they were right?

(And Aziraphale doesn’t! He doesn’t think that! He thinks they were wrong, but he thinks they were wrong about Crowley, that it was an individual mistake and not a feature of a system that squashes questioning and nonconformity of any kind.)

I wrote a whole meta about “I won’t be forgiven, not ever” and “unforgivable, that’s what I am” in 2019 that I won’t rehash here, but tl;dr, I don’t think Crowley is saying that as a statement of his self-worth. I think he is saying, Heaven would never let me back in, and if they did, I wouldn’t go. Because I don’t want or trust the “acceptance” of people who don’t value me as I am.

And it’s part of the cruel dramatic irony of the Final Fifteen that one of the things that breaks them apart is that Crowley values himself enough not to go back to Heaven. Crowley, who we’ve seen will do almost anything for Aziraphale, says, No. I am not putting myself back in that abusive situation. You shouldn’t either; I really wish you wouldn’t; but if you do, I am still not going back there. Not even for you.

[lilislegacy]

So I was reading your posts about Percy and Annabeth having kids, and I just can’t see them actually birthing the baby. I could see more adoption for them. Mainly because I don’t think they’d physically be able to produce children. They went through Tartarus, that’s bound to have some kind of effect (affect? I never know which one to use) on the human body. But I just wanted to hear your opinion!

you see, i understand where you’re coming from. and as someone with a medical brain, i can absolutely see tartarus causing them issues like that. and honestly? i have always thought that there’s a good chance of percy and annabeth having a really hard time getting pregnant for the first time. like it taking 2-3 years.

but after all they’ve been through, i simply refuse to believe they don’t ever get that. i’m not against them adopting, but we’ve seen percy daydream about having a kid that looks like him and annabeth. i think being able to have a baby together would be a really big deal for them. they’ve wanted children for so long. and taking away the ability to bear children, for annabeth to be unable to become pregnant, feels too cruel. it’s too fucking cruel.

and while it’s true some of the gods don’t like percy and annabeth, a lot of them do. in fact, i’d say more than half of the olympians really like them. plus, the gods owe them. big time. dionysus is the god of fertility. he may pretend he doesn’t care about percy and annabeth, but we’ve seen that he secretly does. i think he def has a soft spot for annabeth. so i believe dionysus would secretly help them out. and even if he doesn’t, apollo is the god of healing, his son the god of medicine, and he considers percy a friend. he can help them too

so while i see where you are coming from, and i think adopting is wonderful (and maybe they still will!), i think taking away their ability to create children together is too cruel. it’s something that many real life couples go though. it’s devastating. and adoption is a beautiful, magical thing. adopted children are just as much your children as bio children. but after what percy and annabeth have faced, their past, their insecurities, their limitations, the idea of them not even being able to make a baby just feels… evil. it would destroy them. so even if tartarus took that from them, and if they struggle for a few years, i truly believe the gods would help them out

[minthynights]

Okay SO

I am doing an evil run (or well… I guess self-serving is the better word now. The evil part is going so-so as I get more and more good as I progress because evil decisions give me a stomach ache and I don't like consuming things that make me feel bad)

BUT

I did raid the grove (what have I done) and obviously had that night with Minthara before we parted ways

Fast forward to moonrise prison

The torturers say something they don’t say if you knock Minthara out in the sanctum

They say that she longed for acceptance and affection. From a mortal.

I am going completely insane. They mean YOU. TAV.

Minthara sought and longed for acceptance and affection from you.

Also

I TOLD MINTHARA ABOUT THE PRISM, AKA THE WEAPON SHE WAS TASKED TO RETRIEVE, I told her about it that night after the raid

SHE KNEW I HAD IT

BECAUSE I LITERALLY TOLD HER THAT I HAVE THE WEAPON SHE SEEKS

She said: If this is a lie, it is a dangerous one. Show me.

I said: Not a lie. A test. Your orders are to kill those who have the weapon. Would you kill me?

She said: If she told me to, I would. But I do not hear Her... and perhaps that is a sign that you must live.

She was confused, for sure, and maybe didn't quite believe me. But the truth is, I told her I had the weapon.

She then tried to kill me, because she thought she couldn't hear the Absolute because of me (and I mean yeah, that's what I told you but it's not because I'm sick. It's the weapon.)

However, she says the Absolute's voice returned right before she is going to stab me and I wake up, and it said I must live. I guess the Emperor was like "oh shit she's gonna kill my puppet" and removed the block from Minthara? But why did he extend it to her in the first place??

She then, on orders of the Absolute, tells me how to get to Moonrise.

And that's when we meet again, when she is standing trial for failing to retrieve the weapon.

She could have said that I have it. She could have yelled it out to Z'rell and Thorm, saying she did find it and that she aided in bringing me (and thus, the weapon) right to Moonrise, to them, as ordered by the Absolute. But she didn’t say it. Why? Did she simply discard what I told her as a lie? A test? Or did she just... not know I was there? She actually never turns around, so she never sees me. BUT! She STILL could have said that she found the weapon, that another True Soul—the one who helped her raid the grove—told her she had it in her possession, but that the Absolute Herself had ordered Minthara that this True Soul must live and be guided to Moonrise.

WHY DIDN'T SHE SAY SOMETHING?

BECAUSE SHE IS DUMB?

BECAUSE SHE IS NOT AS SELFISH AS YOU'D THINK?

BECAUSE PLOT HOLE?

BECAUSE I AM DUMB?

BECAUSE SHE CARES ABOUT YOU?

WHY?

I AM SCREAMING

[alexiethymia]

I have a lot of thoughts.

Ok so I loved it. It was cheesy but I do love the entire hotel’s dynamic. They’re such a messed up found family. It was sweet as hell (pun intended) that they all stayed for Charlie and their home (gosh darn it, the hotel’s become home for them)!

The duet between Chaggie was adorable.

BUT BUT the last two episodes only cemented my intrigue with Charlastor. I do love fanon Charlastor.

But their canon dynamic on its own is so interesting. Like it doesn’t have to be romantic.

It’s in the way he didn’t immediately deal for her soul and yet we just know the deal is going to be heartbreaking.

It’s in the way despite his touch-aversion he is STILL so touchy with her. Like I always thought that it was power play, and to some extent it still is. But he already got the deal he wanted from her, and yet he still caresses her hair, pinches her cheeks, loops her arm around his in some parody of a gentleman’s hold?? (So so touchy, and it even seems different in the past that it seems almost friendly. It was weirdly adorable how proud he was in showing off Cannibal Town to Charlie). Sure it may be manufactured, but part of me thinks that part of it is unconscious because he displays a level of comfort with her similar to what he displays with Rosie, with his friends in other words. He’s called her ‘charming’ twice now!

It’s in the way that despite that Charlie has always been the underdog and mocked, in his own sadistic way, he HAS always believed in her (even as he still thinks it’s all for his own amusement). Even if he’s only using her there’s something to be said that he’s always believed her side was the winning side. He parallels Vaggie in that way I think. He seems proud of her (like seriously I wouldn’t expect him to actually smile sincerely with Charlie’s heartfelt declaration of love for all of them - him of all sinners!) AND here’s the thing, I could easily believe he thinks he will leave everyone high and dry if it’s a choice between him or them. He’s in it for himself after all. But when he sings about seeing and polishing Charlie’s potential, yeah it’s definitely villainous, but it’s striking that whatever mysterious endgame he has in the future still seems to include her.

And the most striking thing for me! We now know that his staff is his weakness, possibly a large source of his power. AND what this heartless sinner who trusts no one hands it over to Charlie?? Twice? He literally puts his weakness in her hands? It shows that (despite not admitting to it) he trusts in Charlie’s inherent goodness that she won’t take advantage of his vulnerability, because for some reason I don’t see him doing that with anyone else.

Charlie and Alastor are foils. Their dynamic forms a crucial part of the show. Absolute goodness versus absolute evil is boring. Alastor’s villainous breakdown is prepping the audience for a heartbreaking betrayal. But again it would be a boring development to watch if Alastor was his usual smug and evil self through it all. For it to have weight, Alastor also has to go through inner turmoil as well. Corrupt the cutie is a favorite trope for a reason. But who’s corrupting who? From Alastor’s breakdown, it’s clear he’s not as in control of everything anymore. I love love Alastor’s unwilling, conflicting, growing attachment to the hotel (which is best shown through his relationship with Charlie, though I would hope he develops his relationships with the other hotel residents too).

And it would be so interesting (and satisfying! and heartbreaking) if Charlie ends up playing Alastor at his own game. If Charlie is the one factor that Alastor doesn’t see coming because he (shock!) actually DOES trust her. In other words, in the same way Charlie (and the hotel) is influencing Alastor to become softer (and in his view, weak), what if Charlie does end up being influenced enough by Alastor’s mentoring that she ends up becoming all the more ruthless. Because I can see a scenario where Charlie ends up ‘betraying’ Alastor for what she deems a justified reason. Alastor’s ruthlessness with the self-righteousness of an angel? Whoo boy. There would be so many layers of dramatic irony there that Alastor’s plan of corrupting Charlie ends up working so well but it ends up hurting him because she’s the chink that manages to get past that smiling armor.

And compounding this inevitable tragedy is the knowledge that this could have all been avoided. Alastor trusts her, but it seems like it’s not enough or his urge for control still wins out in the end. Because for me there was no need to go through a deal. If it’s Charlie, she wouldn’t abandon Alastor and she’d do everything to help free him if that’s what the deal was for because that’s the only deal I can think of that wouldn’t require Charlie to hurt anyone.

Unless the deal isn’t about that. Unless typical power-hungry Alastor’s goal really is to depose Lucifer and to rule Hell. Because Charlie definitely wouldn’t help in that (unless she was forced to through their deal) but perhaps there’s something only she can do that ends up handing power over to Alastor.

That is to say Chaggie fulfills that itch for stability and a happy ending. Charlastor fulfills that itch for angst and push-and-pull. From the beginning, it’s been a tug of war and a battle of wills between Charlie and Alastor and I’m glad to see that theme has remained in the show. Alastor will be the truest test of Charlie’s belief in redemption. It’s exciting to see who’ll win out. Will Alastor corrupt her first or will Charlie redeem him first?

Like I thought I’d only see this is in fic, but heck I didn’t think we would actually get a group hug with Alastor but wow omg I can’t believe we actually got it in the show proper!

That is to say this long spiel is just to say that the show ended up turning me into a multishipper haha.