#but i think being aware of that is the first step in becoming a loser in an endearing way and not just being an embarrassment to humanity

[cuntwrap--supreme]

Met a really cute chick the other day and she's been texting me all day and seems genuinely interested in what I'm saying and I think she's fun to talk to and I might puke. If I don't see her again in the meantime, I might invite her to go to pride with me on the 22nd or whenever it even is. Still puking, tho

[imsosleepyofyourbull]

I’m miserable at the knowledge that Gotoge contrasted everything about Zenitsu and Tengen on the surface — the loser crybaby demon slayer with seven ex girlfriends vs. the flashy Hashira with three loving wives — before connecting them with their breathing and their music and their hearing, only to do basically nothing with it. Are you kidding me? Could you imagine a world where Zenitsu and Tengen actually get to talk?

Because Tengen loves his wives and his friends, but they physically cannot understand what it’s like for him to step into a quiet room and still be able to hear every secret around him. To be seen as a sneak or a spy even more than he already is for his shinobi heritage, for a biological factor he can’t control no matter how hard he tries. Or to find music in the sound of the crowd’s blood, heartbeats, and very souls while being unable to share it with anyone unless he transcribes it.

Zenitsu embodies it.

He is absolutely terrified of it, hearing danger that nobody else can sense until minutes after he’s already become aware and forced to contend with the knowledge that he will also be the first to know when someone has died. How many times did he hear a heart stop beating when he was out on the streets as a child? How many times did he hear his allies’ bones and organs break or rupture in their bodies on a mission? How many times has he heard his own? It’s futile to count, but both he and Tengen know what it’s like to be that person.

And I can’t help but think that Tengen would be excited about their connection in a way that Zenitsu can’t be — he’s older, more experienced, and more confident in himself. There’s no doubt that he stopped thinking of his hearing as just a curse a long time ago, and he probably found a way to have fun with it in his music. But that also means that he’s been searching for someone who would know what he was talking about for even longer than Zenitsu. He’d jump at the opportunity the second it arose, because Zenitsu might want to run and Zenitsu might not be willing to hear what connects them… but Tengen can. And he’s not about to let that go over some petty whining.

So he decides to make the boy his student (maybe even his Tsugoku) and begins training him on everything he’s learned about his own hearing over the years. It’s like every step they take forward in building a proper teacher-student relationship is immediately offset by another five steps back. Zenitsu rejects the connection entirely because, at his core, he can’t imagine himself being comparing to Tengen — to the physical embodiment of everything he wants to be and doesn’t think that he can’t. So he shoves more broken chords into their shared symphony than actually fit and his anxiety becomes a constant shadow on the harmony of their song.

It grows distorted from both his intentional and unintentional self-destruction just as much as it does from Tengen’s own frustration. It gets worse and worse and worse, until there’s nowhere for it go anymore; until Tengen unintentionally insults Jigoro for being irresponsible and letting Zenitsu go to Final Selection with only one technique.

It will be the first and one of the only times that he gets to see become Zenitsu genuinely furious.

Because Zenitsu’s relationship with Tengen here is in the same vein as his relationship to Kaigaku in canon — he hates and respects and fears the sound hashira in equal measure. And it’s that last thing that really matters, because Zenitsu’s rage blinds him to the feeling of fear where it becomes all that Tengen can hear in his sound. The image of himself as a child reflected in a little blond boy who didn’t want to train with him (with his father) but did it anyway. Tengen’s wives have to separate them soon enough, and everyone decides that trying again isn’t a good idea.

So they take a break. A long one. Long enough that Zenitsu assumes that his apprenticeship is finally over and he can go back to whoever he was before this mess. He’s wrong, of course, because Tengen knocks on his door the very next day and they go all the way back to the Uzui Estate to try something new. They go to Tengen’s music room, filled to the brim with instruments more expensive than Zenitsu has ever seen, let alone gotten to touch, and they spend the night playing whatever they feel like. Because they’d always known each other by their sounds better than they had their words, and trying to force the latter was their first mistake. They knew better, now.

Music night becomes their ritual. After training, they air out their frustrations with song after song in a conversation only they’ll ever understand. Not a thing spoken. And, eventually, they won’t have to speak at all. Zenitsu once explained that when he tried hard enough, he could hear people’s thoughts instead of just their feelings.

What would it be like for him to not have to try at all with Tengen?

(What would it be like for him to have a mentor in the only other person who would understand?)

[triviallytrue]

(Asked about Hikaru Nakamura)

@wo-chien-fan so a big part of Hikaru's whole deal is that he's a bad sport - people in chess will joke about the "Nakamura school of sportsmanship" or say something along the lines of "everyone has a Hikaru story."

I think a relatively common story is along the lines of this one by IM John Bartholomew: Hikaru is a sore winner and privately berates this guy for his play while publicly praising it. This demonstrates a number of interconnected traits:

Hikaru is both a sore winner and a sore loser

Hikaru is both very arrogant and has a fragile ego

Hikaru tends to express these traits in private while being far more polite in public, suggesting both that he's aware that his conduct reflects badly on him and that he has some amount of control over it

And this has been true for his entire career - he started playing chess at 7 and beat his first international master at 10(!!). He's spent his whole life in the US chess world and most of the people in it dislike him (or are at least wary of him).

In a different player, these traits might've gotten him ostracized or otherwise sanctioned, but Hikaru is... well, he's insanely fucking good at chess. In classical chess, he peaked at rank 2 rating in the world, and in rapid and blitz he's held the #1 spot. He is, to put it mildly, a generational talent, and if not for the existence of one specific player, he might've become the defining player of his generation.

But as luck would have it, Hikaru has spent his career in the shadow of the greatest chess player of all time, Magnus Carlsen, and historically Hikaru has an even worse record against him than you might expect based on their respective strength. So Hikaru "quit" professional chess, stopped trying to become world champion, and started getting rich(er) and famous(er) by becoming a streamer.

The funny thing is, I actually think becoming a twitch streamer has forced him to become a more resilient, mature, and better person. The thing about the chess world is that it was never going to "hold Hikaru Nakamura accountable" - it can't hold random GMs accountable when they sexually assault people, least of all one of the best players in the world when he's an asshole.

But twitch doesn't give a shit how good you are at chess, not in the same way professional chess players do. When he got up to his old tricks, copyright striking two channels run by players he disliked, the backlash was swift and brutal. All this dirty laundry got aired and he got his first taste of public disapproval. He backpedalled, took back the strikes (and fixed a thing with his twitch mods that people were mad about) and was forgiven, but he hasn't stepped out of line since then.

And Hikaru agrees that his streaming career has helped him, even if I don't think he would cite the same reasons as me - his chess improved during his time as a streamer, and when he went back to competing in classical tournaments for a bit, his rating increased. He's back to rank 3 in the world in classical and blitz chess. He seems more confident, more stable, and (dare I say) happier. So, good for him, even if I still think he's kind of a prick.

[sorcerous-caress]

Re: making homemade porn w your loser elf bestie FNSKFKSODKE GOD YOUR BRAIN IS SO HUGE AND WRINKLED!!! I deeply enjoy how one of this biggest degenerate losers in the forum falls off the face of the planet for a few weeks, comes back with a human partner, and suddenly the whole forum is like “our human 👁️👁️”

Now I am thinking more about bullying him for the camera. Sipping the thought of sitting astride him while slowly grinding on his cock and watching how red his face gets like it’s fine wine. Delighting in how his eyes get hazy and he babbles so desperately in whatever language his poor porn rotted brain can conjure up in the moment. He’s so cute when he’s losing his mind over the way your insides feel wrapped around his dick while the camera peers between your legs and watches him barely slide in and out of you. A witness to how just a bit of tight human hole makes such an elegant, graceful creature fall apart at the seams and lapse into an animalistic state. Yeah sure the two of you may take inspiration from the large amount of suggestions you get, but honestly this is your favorite way to have him <3

As an aside I NEED more of your thoughts on the people on the forum getting on his nerves and making him, dare I say, possessive? 👀 It’s one thing for him to willingly show you off, it’s another to have others so brashly ask to borrow you. I wonder if we would ever accidentally get a peek at some of the online messages that refer to him as our boyfriend 👀

(I also have some cute fluffy ideas for this pornbrained loser but this ask is already so long, I sowrry 🙈)

—🩵 Anon

"O u r Human 👁 👁" XKSJKSJXJAKAJX i love your humour

Honestly, if he also stayed a lone loser on the forum and never met you, then he'd have the same reaction to someone else bringing a human there.

He is aware it was mere fate and chance that you chose him, pure luck. That's why he doesn't feel bad about being a bit selfish and never fully showing you the forum or suggestions.

Like yes, these people are his community and were there for him when normal elf porn websites removed their human category after some some public backlash. These forums were the only reason he could even experience sexual pleasure anymore.

But now he has you. A whole real human to himself. One so willing and enthusiastic about sleeping with him, he would be crazy to pay attention to anyone else.

On the fluffy side, you were also his first ever real friend, before he knew you were human. He really has spent his days with brainrot as he fell deeper and deeper into the porn addiction, his views on actual humans morphing and mixing with fantasy. The thing that helped bring him pleasure was also becoming an addiction that made it akin to impossible to make any friends.

But he met you online, also by fate, and the two of you clicked. Played video games together or chatted by texts for hours deep into the night. He has replied to the weird memes you've sent him at 3am almost immediately since he never has the need to sleep.

You became another source of happiness for him, a true blessing he thanked Corellon for everyday.

He was so excited to meet you, preparing an entire day of fun things you can do together. But you just had to be the most attractive human he has ever seen, huh?

And yet you didn't reject him or think he was weird when he couldn't keep his obsession from showing, your insides felt so amazing as you held him close and whispered praises into his ear with every thrust.

Indulging him with your body and making him almost pass out from happiness, his heart was immediately yours to do whatever you wished to with. Even if you squeezed it and stepped on it, he'd thank you and find it the hottest thing ever.

The forums became a thing of the past, his human magazines that he spent so much of his salary on collecting and getting every new edition the day it dropped, are now forgotten and collecting dust.

He's very clingy and is a sad mess whenever you leave his apartment to go back to your home, you haven't invited him over yet so he has to helplessly wait until the next time you come over.

Coaxing you to stay whilst eating you out, using every trick in the book he can think of to convince you on why it's better to just spend the night at his place. If you want to stuff then he is ready to drive you there and back here just to get them, you don't have to lift a finger and be his lovely passenger princess.

Although, now his salary goes into funding this homemade porn new habit of his. Buying only the best of the toys for you, the highest quality vibratiors and lingerie that's tailored to your body.

He gets off using them whenever you're not around, watching a past video of you fucking yourself with these toys as he does the same. Just the idea of them having been used by a human gets him on the edge, but the fact you were that human specifically is what gets him to cum whilst crying your name.

You're very eager to film with him. He notices the way your lips curl from humiliating him on camera, softly bullying him as you tease and edge his cock. Making him fuck you with the slowest pace possible and turning him from a respectful noble high elf, into a desperate needy pathetic whore who needs his cock inside you to function.

Elves known for their grace and wisdom. The fact he has lived way more than a century and yet you reduced him to an animalistic state as he fucks you with all of his power.

High elves call sex lovemaking instead, consider it to be a joining of soul that's full of love passion and gentleness like no other. Yet he is leaving his marks along your body, squeezing your thighs so hard until his handprints stay there, kissing and sucking on your neck and throat so he can spend the whole night admiring his work while you sleep.

Sometimes during your sleep, you do hear a wet sound besides you, heavy breathing and a muffled moans as he strokes his cock, rubbing at the head to quietly get off. He doesn't dare touch you while you sleep, merely laying besides you in agony at never being able to get off on his own no matter how many times he fucks his own fist.

Your smell is everywhere too, that human scen that your kind is blissfully unaware of. He can smell it on his clothes that he lets you borrow, pillow cases and sheets.

Even his home office isn't free from it, as much as he tries to keep that space neat and tidy in case of a video call work meeting, he just couldn't refuse your request to tie him to his office chair and suck him off while he tries not to cum.

He gets the same heated feeling between his legs whenever he sits in that chair since then, clearing his throat and hiding his tenting hard cock under his desk from the camera on his work laptop. Keeping the facade of being a calm, collected noble elf.

More on the fluffy moments, he found out he likes having his ears petted gently because of your curiosity that one time. Usually elf ears are off limit since the pointer they are, the more a show of pride they represent.

Elves are discouraged to touch their ears or anyone's because of that, since they were children. Parents would tell their kids that their ears would flop or stay in weire shapes if they let others touch them.

But you just did it one day, without regard. Asking if you can try something and just reaching out towards his face. At first he panicked when he realised it was his ears, but then it felt...good.

Your touches were gentle, comforting. He found himself relaxing and leaning into you, not even caring if this is considered inappropriate. Human hands are really soft and round in comparison to elves, almost like these hands were made for the sole purpose of petting things.

Another time, you two found each other by mere chance at a supermarket while shopping. He usually avoids all humans and never looks them in the eyes, but he couldn't look away from you since the second he recognised you.

The two of you spent the afternoon shopping for groceries together, getting to know each other's food preference and actually having a good time. It reminded him that he never lost the friend he made in you, that sex never made you view him differently.

He took note of a particular snack or drink in your cart. The next time you went to visit him, he had it in his fridge for you. He isn't very good at cooking, but sometimes he shares elven dishes with you.

They're heavy on the vegetables and spices, and each dish prefers complexity rather than simplicity. He knows the tastes might be too intense for humans so he prepared a watered down version of it for you.

You make the mistake of kissing him after it, and just the taste of the original dish on his lips sends your tastebuds into alarm. One flavour after another invading your sense, it's like everything all at once was pushed to the limit. He confesses that magic is involved in making that dish to intensify the spices, but he rubs your back as you chug water afterwards to try and wash it out.

One time, you accidentally mixed your glasses and took a sip of elvish alcohol, a single small sip. You were hungover for three days after and had to take time off work. He stayed by your side in bed and nursed you back to health. Thankfully, the cantrip he was born with does alleviate pain and refresh the mind.

He admits he finds it adorable, how humans are oversensitive to so many "normal things". Like a fresh breath of life trying things for the first time.

As for the possessive side, he'd probably get really defensive about you on these forums. Claiming since he is your "boyfriend" then he has every right to be protective of you and never allow anyone else the chance to contact or meet you.

He doesn't think less of you for sleeping with him or being friends with benfits. It is one of the many things he really admires about humans and find unimaginably hot. Even if you never start a relationship with him, he will die happily knowing he was your boytoy for all of your lifetime.

What he hates is the potential that he might lose you to someone else. That other human enthusiasts like him no doubt also find these things hot about you and would want a piece for themselves.

And it's making him more possessive of you, feeling more entitled to the videos you two film. Half of them he doesn't actually share on the forums and just saves for himself. He took editing courses on the side to learn how to fully make your identity untraceable so that none of them gets the chance to find you let alone your online accounts.

[fishhjuice]

Uotora was there? 👀

"sth sth wish you also looked at me that way" Uotora WAS there! I think of them all as this childhood friend group.

Well. Sort of. It was more in the lines of "We are both Beika's friend so I guess we are hanging out.", even though Uotora disliked Ichiya heavily. Let me tell you all about it.

The rest is under the cut!

The reason for Uotora disliking Ichiya was not anything he did (at first, before everything at least). Tora made up a lot of reasons to dislike Ichiya at first (very loud and too friendly), but it was mostly two things.

I think of Tora as having been a debilitatingly anxious and "shy" child, barely speaking to anyone and all, and Beika with all her earnestness and cheer was somehow the first one to be able to reach out to and befriend Uotora. Minitora deeply appreciated and loved Beika for all she did, but wiht how reserved he was, kept mostly quiet about it and showed his love quietly FOR YEARS, to the point Beika wasn't really aware of how much she was appreciated and didn't think of Uotora as close as Uotora thought her as. She really misjudged how much Tora would be willing to do for her, and thought Uotora just liked having someone to hang out with, that's it.

With all this, having "one true friend" made Uotora anxious about possibly losing that friend, which made the idea of sharing Beika extremely difficult for Tora. Not only that, as i talked about it, Ichiya and Beika were extremely close, to the point there was almost no one for Beika other than Ichiya, which made Uotora made extremely jelaous. However, being as anxious and quiet and afraid of confrontation and unable to stomach the idea of losing Beika he was, he said nothing and neither Beika or Ichiya were aware how much Uotora couldn't take Ichiya.

The other reason was again jelaousy, but this time about how easily Ichiya talked with people and made them like him. His social butterfly status and rockstar charm was something Uotora really admired and envied, as someone who couldn't say two words without feeling like exploding. It made him feel bad about himself, which he displaced onto Ichiya.

As years passed, I think Uotora grew self aware of basically what I've been telling you and tried to act friendlier to Ichiya, or at least not actively act like he dislikes Ichiya, to not much of a success, but again, Ichiya wasn't aware at all and thought Uotora as shy and "nice :)". It had the side effect of Uotora getting to hang out more with Beika, which is what truly mattered to Uotora in the end, anyway.

Then Ichiya and Beika come up with the idea of starting a band. I think much like Beika picking bass for Ichiya, Uotora picked the drums because Beika insisted and convinced him as the rhythm section, they could fall back on each other.

Although Uotora picked up the drumsticks not due to his own volution, in the end he end up adoring being a drummer. Hitting the drums alleviated his anxiety and hitting them as loud as he can without holding back made him grow in confidence, which made Uotora appreciate Beika even more.

Things were going well, until they weren't. Beika and Ichiya fight, Ichiya takes off and becomes famous, crushes Beika's self esteem in process (we talked about this) and leaves only Uotora to pick up the pieces.

Beika being at the verge of quitting music since she's apperantly she's worthless at it or whatever, and Uotora takes this as his responsiblity to prove that wrong, and really steps in, and by stepping in i mean stepping out of his comfort zone. He starts to show his love more outwardly and comforts Beika, and brings the guitarist they were meant to have, Kikura so they can still be band.

I think both being socially awkward losers Kiku and Uotora's friendship was built on "I don't know if you consider me your friend but i really like you". until they kind of accepted they were friends. Nevertheless, the fact he was able to make another friend led him to be more socially open and come out of his shell. (I need to talk a whole lot about Kiku some other time)

To go back to his relationship with Beika a little, although it took a while they grew just as close as they meant to be and know how much both appreciate each other now.

Currently, he is still anxious, but much more well adjusted. I don’t think he has blossomed into a social butterfly or anything, but he has friends (i still like Underpass Bass Drum 4th member headcanon even if it doesn’t make much sense ❤️). But basically now he has an actual reason to dislike Ichiya, which he does vehemently with how much Ichiya devastated Beika.

So ye .

[pico-farad]

Vrains season 2 thoughts - part 2!

Go, Blood Shepherd, Ghost Girl, and the Ignis

All Vrains season analysis posts

⇀ Go

I'm devastated LMAO. In shambles. They massacred my boy (shh don't tell me the Go in my head isn't canon).

It's okay Go, Secret Identities AU will save you...

So, I don't think it was a bad idea for Go to "defect" to SOL. Go was already playing third fiddle very hard in the first season, and there was no way he could compare to Soulburner in terms of popularity as a main character, so turning him into an antagonist could be refreshing.

But it says something about Yusaku and Go's lack of relationship that when Go joins the bounty hunters Yusaku isn't even interested, much less betrayed. He doesn't ask, "Hey Go, why are you doing this?" he just glances at him and goes "Hmm, SOL Technologies sent bounty hunters."

You can tell too, during their duel later, that Yusaku just isn't close enough to Go to even attempt to break him out of the brain hacking. The best he can do is, "Didn't we fight against Hanoi together?" Uh I dunno Yusaku, did you? Isn't the reason why Go is in this downward spiral because you solo'd Hanoi by yourself?

The Soulburner vs. Go duel could have been a good place to explore that reasoning. Go's annoyance here is justified. It's completely understandable to feel like you're being talked down to, when fanboy Soulburner -- god bless him -- tells you that you're a hero who saved Vrains, even though you know that you couldn't do anything, you were useless. There's almost a narrative self-awareness there, that your duel was only used to make Playmaker look better. Playmaker is the real hero of Vrains, and you were just a stepping stone. Of course Soulburner's gushing would rub you the wrong way.

This relationship could have been sooo good if they built on it. Soulburner believes in Go, even when Go himself doesn't believe he's a hero. He understands that it isn't strength that makes you a hero, it isn't winning duels. It's having the courage to stand up to evil. That's why he admires Go and the others. Because that's what gave him the courage to stand up to his own demons. Imagine a rematch where Soulburner returns the favor, where he's the one to save Go from the darkness and convince him to be the hero that he believed in.

But no, instead, they kind of make him as unsympathetic as possible. Maybe that was the point, considering how they end up gutting his character, but this duel really, really makes him look bad. A grown adult playing victim olympics with children and losing. "You were traumatized as a kid? Oh yeah, well I grew up in an orphanage!" nooooo go you can't say that to an anime boy.

Go: For everyone to appreciate me, I must win! Playmaker is in my way. Lost Incident victim, he says? I know he suffered, but I also bet my life on dueling! I'm the one who'll be number one! I'm not Playmaker's stepping stone! Soulburner: ...I don't think you're Playmaker's stepping stone. But right now, you're just SOL Technologies' pet dog. Actually, a pitiful loser dog who complains to strangers. Go: How dare you say that-- Soulburner: The Go Onizuka in my heart is a great duelist! Number one? Everyone appreciate you? The Go Onizuka I know would never say pathetic things like that! Go: Be quiet! What do you know? Soulburner: I do know! Because Go Onizuka is a hero who gave me courage when I couldn't move forward. No matter how cornered he was, Go Onizuka was an independent duelist who believed in his own strength to the end. Where is that person who gave me courage? Go: *turns away* ...I end my turn. Soulburner: Go Onizuka... I want to duel the real you.

Do you see my vision?

But none of these ideas really come back, and it's all downhill from there for Go, with the AI implant and Earth and all. He just becomes another evil, unhinged, "pathetic" villain to be put down by Yusaku, who doesn't give a shit about him. We were so robbed of the Soulburner vs. Go rematch.

⇀ Ghost Girl and Blood Shepherd

I don't have much to say about Blood Shepherd, I'm sure I would have found him cool when I was 13. No, I really only need to talk about Ghost Girl vs. Blood Shepherd.

This duel needed to be a two-episoder. They've built up this mysterious shared past, raised the stakes by putting their accounts on the line, and then the duel is over in three turns. The majority of Vrains is two-episode duels, but Ema gets the short stick by having both of her duels be singles?

(Aoi also has 2 single episode duels, out of 3 total. Let's do some math, this season Aoi and Ema combined have 6 episodes of duels. That's the same amount that Go, Revolver, and Lightning each have alone. Blood Shepherd has 8. Soulburner gets 11 episodes of duels. And Bohman gets 12. All six of Bohman's duels are two-parters, four of them are against Yusaku, and none of them are that memorable. Couldn't he have donated one episode to Ema?)

It's revealed that Ghost Girl and Blood Shepherd are half siblings, but it's not particularly clear whether they've even spoken outside of Vrains. If they had the extra episode, they could have given them a flashback together, arguments about their respective upbringings, anything to flesh out their relationship and make the ending of this duel make sense.

Ghost Girl loses. Fine, we can't have nice things. She isn't going to get anything important for the rest of the season, so let her go out honorably. But no, Blood Shepherd doesn't even give her the dignity of following through on the stakes of the match.

It's not like I want the female character to get deleted, but without showing any kind of shared history or interpersonal relationship, this "brotherly mercy" reads as patronizing bullcrap. They're both adults who have committed to an unforgiving line of work, but Blood Shepherd does a 180 because his absent father -- who we were just told about 8 minutes ago -- actually did sort of care about him.

Never mind that his father and Ema didn't try to help him, this one sentence is apparently enough to make Blood Shepherd not only take back the stakes he proposed, but also risk and lose his life to Lightning, because, "It's a brother's responsibility to protect his sister." No, you're both adults, you don't have a history together, you don't have "a responsibility to protect her" just because you share the same father. And when that's all that they show, it feels uncomfortably essentialist, out of character, and cheaply written.

Part of this is cultural difference, but it's just a trope that I personally hate for various reasons.

⇀ The Other Ignis

I don't really have thoughts on Earth or Aqua, other than that they sure did girlcode the Water Ignis and then damsel her. Windy and Lightning are fine as mid-series antagonists, though I think they lack impact with just two of them. If either Earth or Aqua was also on the side of the bad guy Ignis, having a nice round antagonist trio would be more imposing and balanced (3 Ignis being pro-human and 3 against)

They even acknowledge themselves how underwhelming their group is, by trying to recruit Blood Shepherd, and by the fact that they had to really clumsily split up the hero team in the final fight so that they aren't clearly outmatched. This contrivance is lame. Compare that to, say, Ark Cradle in 5Ds where each character has a specific opponent, a high note to end on, and all the other characters are counting on them to prevail.

This is the same problem Vrains had in season 1, where they insist on Yusaku being the Last Man Standing, and less important characters have to be picked off so that Yusaku's big boss fight has higher stakes. We'll see if that actually pays off in season 3.

-----

Gonna cut it off here, I need to watch the rest to properly cover Bohman, Revolver, Yusaku, and Ai. I know I really went in on the writers in this section, but I am actually looking forward to these next 30 episodes. I don't think I'm gonna come away loving Vrains, but I'm very curious about this ending, and why I see so much fanart of hot anime boy AI. I think it's gonna be a good time!

...Sorry, did I forget someone again?

Sigh...

Next time on Yu-Gi-Oh Vrains Analysis: How the Fuck Did Aoi's Writing Get Worse

[karizard-ao3]

PROM AU SLAPS

How do you even come up with all this? 😭 Seriously it's so good! *Slamming my first on the table!*

Can I suggest that: all boys try their luck asking her to prom, but she rejects them. She wants to be prom queen and, despite being realistic enough to know Shinji's not the perfect candidate for king, she at least wants him to ask her? Tries to charm him (That pool scene comes to mind). Shinji seems very ambivalent because he wants to go but is afraid of connecting with people that way, you know? (The cinema scene comes to mind). Shinji thinks she's not really interested in him, she thinks he's not interested in her, teenage misunderstandings.

Oh! Should we have a touching moment old Misato teaching Shinji how to dance, or could this be some much needed opening with Asuka?

Oh, so maybe she can be complaining about how there's no one good enough to go with, and she's going to need to craft the perfect prom date, and that's when Hikari is like, "Hee hee hee what about Shinji? He's such a loser, I bet you can't." That doesn't actually seem like Hikari, so I think we'd want to soften that up, but it would be along those lines.

So perhaps are we thinking that instead of out and out inviting Shinji to prom, Asuka simply tells him she's going to get him looking good enough to get a date for prom, then realizes she wants him to take her, and goes about trying to win him over? He wants to ask her but is too shy? WHAT IF THEY ALMOST GO WITH OTHER PEOPLE?

Perhaps! Misato teaches them both to dance like you suggested! And then! She steps out for a minute and that is when Shinji asks Asuka to prom? Like, she's kind of let her guard down for a moment and that's when Shinji suddenly feels brave enough to swoop in!!!!

BEGIN SCENE!

"For someone who loves music, you have no rhythm!" Asuka snapped, grinding her teeth together as Shinji stepped on her foot yet again.

"Sorry!" he winced.

Sorry, sorry, sorry. He was always sorry, but he never changed. Asuka couldn't take it anymore. "Stop apologizing and stop stepping on my feet!" she ordered.

"Okay, sorry," said Shinji.

Asuka stared stonily over his shoulder. "You're so hopeless," she said. "I don't know why I agreed to make you over so you could get a prom date."

Shinji stopped dancing. "I didn't ask and you didn't really give me a choice!" he said. "You walked up, called me a charity case, and said you were going to cure me of my loseritis by getting me a date to prom."

Asuka's nostrils flared. "Well, you could have said no!"

Shinji shook his head, beginning to spin her around to the music again. Asuka bristled. Why was he so passive? Why wouldn't he look at her? She had taken extra care with her makeup this afternoon, hoping to get some kind of reaction out of him when he came over for the dance lesson Misato had offered to give them, but all he had said was, "You look nice, Asuka!" in that mild, pleasant way he had. He didn't care. Not like she did.

He was looking down at their feet, frowning to himself and counting the beats under his breath. Misato had stepped out to take a phone call, and they were all alone. Just the two of them. A boy and girl, standing mere inches apart. He had one hand on her waist and the other folded around hers, dwarfing it. He had surprisingly big hands, callused on the left fingertips from his cello strings. She had become painfully aware of him in the past weeks, an ache made all the more excruciating by how oblivious he was to her.

Ask me to prom, she pleaded silently, closing her eyes as if sightlessness would amplify her wish. Please don't go with someone else.

When she opened her eyes, Shinji was watching her.

"Are you okay, Asuka?" he asked. "Does your head hurt?"

"Why would my head hurt?" she scoffed.

"I don't know," said Shinji, his gaze skittering away from her. "You looked... I don't know."

The brief conversation died and Asuka wanted to die, too. Why couldn't she be more like Hikari? Would he like her better if she were sweet and uncomplicated?

"Hey, Asuka?" said Shinji.

"Yeah?"

"So... Who am I supposed to go to prom with?" he asked, looking at her like a puppy with his head ducked down. "You're doing all this stuff to my hair and my clothes, but I don't really know what I'm supposed to do about it."

This was probably her best chance. She could tell him to ask her and he would do it. He always did what he was told.

"Just ask who you want, idiot," she sighed. But want me.

Shinji was quiet for a moment. "Can I go with you?" he asked.

Asuka snorted. "Doesn't that seem like taking the easy way out? Asking me instead of a girl you're interested in?"

Shinji reddened, his hand tightening around hers. "This isn't easy," he said. "And I am asking a girl I'm interested in."

Asuka froze.

"If you don't want to go with me, just say so," said Shinji, glaring down at the ground, adding in a softer voice, "I shouldn't have asked." He let go of her, stepping back. "Sorry."

Asuka grabbed his wrist. "Stop apologizing," she ordered.

Shinji shrugged. "Sor-"

"I'll go with you," said Asuka, breathlessly, before he could change his mind. "I'll be your date."

END SCENE

And then of course their poor communication, opposite personalities, and self-doubt will continue to wreak havoc on their prom journey, but for now things are good.

It was really different writing their characters when I'm so used to doing Eremika and other AOT characters, so this was a fun little exercise. Didn't proofread. Spent way too much time on it. I think it turned out okay, though.

[pochapal]

I know you don't know the characters a lot yet but. please assign classpects to umineko characters? any you'd like!

not quite fully sure of everyone's relation to how they shape their subjective realities (aka the most important part of classpecting for me) but i'll try!

(longpost because of course it is lmao - 3500 words long you have been warned)

first one i feel semi-confident on doing is saying maria could be a mage of light. this is going by the definition of mage as "one who receives a boon of knowledge they don't quite grasp the full implications of but still use it to their benefit anyway" and the definition of light as "fortune, the mystical, and narratively Significant symbols and imagery". i think a good example of this is the way that maria becomes a harbinger of "beatrice", utilising her unique "knowledge" of the golden witch to self-serve her belief that this mystical figure exists and is on the move. this also fulfils that other quirk with light players sometimes shadowing the void aspect (ie light players falling into false beliefs, into obscurity, into literal and metaphorical darkness) but the twist of course is that maria, while not understanding, is hitting way closer to a truth with her insistence on "beatrice gave me the letter". (also sad to report maria is not in fact a witch by classpect standards).

a little shakier on this one but i think battler can be read as an heir. he's very much a passive force who is a vehicle to a lot of the narrative happening To Him and these various factors shape and influence his thinking and approach (a good example here would be kyrie's chessboard logic deeply influencing his own way of thinking). also he's kind of a goof which is perhaps the most important feature of the heir class. as for aspect maybe something like time? in that battler's passively shoved into this situation while being very temporally displaced (his remarks that 6 years feel paradoxically like so much time and yet no time at all) and aware of this disadvantage this puts him at but still pushing through it anyway. that said heirs have a habit of being imprinted on by their influences (think john's vriskafication in homestuck act 5) so i think battler's kind of been channelling some mind aspect stuff after being influenced by kyrie.

george i think is a page. pages have their whole Deal being that they are quite often ineffective Losers who never take the steps to actually reach their potential of being a good and tolerable person, an individual who refuses the call all of the time no matter what. if there's one thing about george it's that he is consistently denying himself the chance to become the person he wants to be instead falling back into a self-destructive fantasy self that only succeeds at being offputting. his class i think might be space in that the few glimpses of The Real George indicate someone who is both knowledgeable with a desire for human relationships - he is very much struggling against the space aspect's whole "destiny of the lonely" thing. and just like another certain space player he's throwing himself into a failmarriage just to feel appreciated. sad!

to round off the cousins i'll go with jessica next. i think a good aspect fit for her could be breath. breath's whole thing is agency, freedom, and the ability to make choices that defy conformity. jessica is very much about asserting a nonconformist self and a desire for personal liberation (also she expresses herself through her mode of speech aka with her voice aka with her Breath. i see the pattern) particularly and especially when it grants her the chance to escape a stagnant tradition. a class i think might work for her is maid - a lot of her self is in service to this desire for nonconformity even as she risks subservience to the opposite thing she truly desires (as the direct successor to the ushiromiya line there's a whole bunch of tension right there).

for the siblings i have a much less certain grasp on who they are and what they do as people but i'll keep trying. one i think i am mostly comfortable with is reading natsuhi as a maid of blood. like i outlined previously maid is all about dedicating yourself to the desires of your aspect, and natsuhi is very dedicated to serving her desire to be truly worthy of being an ushiromiya and upholding the ushiromiya household's values (family, bonds, obligation, all of which are hardcore blood traits). this classpecting also creates an interesting explanation for the strained dynamic between herself and jessica - both of them are equally strong in their desires and commitment to their goals, but their goals are in such polar opposite directions that there will always be this tension.

i'll say kyrie's aspect is mind. she's all about modes of logic and thought patterns and her whole Thing is questioning whether it's better to be a Detective or a Romantic when approaching mysteries. she's a very passive presence who mostly keeps to herself but she has remarkable insight in understanding how to get people to act how she wants them to in order to ascertain key facts and information for herself. unfortunately she died before we could get a sense of what she would do once she obtained this information so i can't drill much further than saying her class is either rogue or thief. rogue arguments would be her bestowing battler with the ability to chessboard think. thief arguments would be that a lot of what she says and does is a subtle manipulation of others to secure information. ultimately it depends on how selfish kyrie as an individual is and i don't think i can say for sure on that score. leaning towards rogue though because she is very much a behind the scenes kind of actor.

next sibling i feel confident in assigning a classpect to is rosa, who i think could be a mage of space. i decided while writing this that it makes sense for there to be a kind of classpect overlap between parents and kids so rosa is a mage just like maria except a Worst version. where maria is surrounded by Omens and absorbs them to her personal benefit rosa is tormented by the worst excesses of space (control issues, isolation, abandonment) - she's a deeply isolated individual who, through the conditions thrown upon her psyche at all times, has little to show for herself and no means of exerting her will. maria's father isn't in the picture. she has no sway over her siblings. her business is in ruin. she can't even maintain a relationship with her daughter. wettest most pathetic failure of a classpect wielder in existence.

for krauss this one's a little tenuous but given what we've seen of him and how he operates i feel like thief of void is a good fit for him. thief in that he Literally Embezzles Kinzo's Fortune, and also thief in that he is the successor to the ushiromiya line and thus (excluding kinzo) the most important problematic figure in the room at any time. void in that he's very vested in secrets and conspiracies - he is able to sus out the plot his other siblings are trying to use against him while also very succinctly keeping the secret of the gold ingot to himself, only divesting when and to whom he sees fit. so thief of void as in "one who steals secrecy/obscurity for their own gain" works quite appropriately i think.

eva's the last one i have a vague inkling towards. i think you could make the case that you could read her as a prince of breath. prince in that she is very destructive and hostile, and wields that destruction both unto others and unto herself. breath in that a lot of her choices have to do with agency and will and the ability to decide for yourself. eva, in her desire to continue to be freely part of the ushiromiya register, forces hideyoshi to abandon his family name and take hers. eva also tears down natsuhi for thinking she has the right to exert any kind of will as a member of the ushiromiya household, or the right to make any decision as regards kinzo's will. so here we have "one who destroys free will/agency and destroys through free will/agency" making a decent fit.

final two siblings are super shaky and done more as a Pattern Fitting exercise (the siblings would in theory form a complementary sburb group with no classpect overlaps, and at least one parent must share a class/aspect with their child) but i think i can argue that it works. first up is rudolf who i'm calling as an heir of heart. heir in that he very passively has things go his way without much trying (he got a second wife and battler reconciled with him without seemingly much effort) and that he has the potential to be highly powerful in various situations (eva on multiple occasions remarks how kinzo-like rudolf is) - also battler is an heir, so the parent/child classpect link works here too. heart as an aspect because a lot of what happens to rudolf involves others acting based upon his heart - kyrie who puzzles over detectives and romantics knows rudolf's heart well enough to predict with several degrees of accuracy what he wants and why he acts the way he acts. the identity he wields is often used against him by people who know his true self in order to get him to bend to their will - seen often with eva who cuts through the bullshit front he puts up around battler/the family to humiliate him. so again, kind of like rosa, rudolf fails very hard at making his classpect work for him.

hideyoshi i'm assigning page of light. he's page to match with george but i think there's something to it. pages are weak-willed individuals who often fail to act on their own and who are trampled over by people better at playing the game than him. hideyoshi is nice but he's essentially useless in all ushiromiya conflicts - he acts as eva's yes man with no agenda or will of his own. light in that one facet of light is truth/honesty and here that burns hideyoshi a lot. hideyoshi, who is very bad at asserting his will, is also comically prone to almost accidentally blurting out the truth time and time again (he almost spills the beans on his and eva's scheme right there in the airport, and again after the first twilight eva has to do a hell of a lot of deft maneuvering to keep him from making them look sus as hell) - he cannot wield the truth/light for his own gain because he never reached his potential and is thus always forced to play second fiddle to someone else.

next set of people to consider are the servants. because a bunch of them are hard to read i am again treating them like a collected set of sburb players with no classpect overlap in order to make this a touch easier for me.

that said let's start with one who i think is easy to pin down and whose classpect is kind of funny to me: shannon. she's a witch of heart i think. witch in that she is always shat on by the universe, held back, and forced to suffer needlessly in the sake of a greater scheme. also witch in that she has the crucial witch aspects of Desperate To Be Loved And Belong and also Simmering All The Time With Barely Controlled Murderous Fury and more important than all that the trait of Deserves So Much Better. heart in that of all the umineko characters with Identity Problems shannon's is the most identity problems of them all. at this point you could basically argue sayo is a splinter self that she wields with the innate expertise of a homestuck witch - witches are very good at using/manipulating their aspects, perhaps even moreso than any other class, and the way that shannon uses both shannon and sayo in order to regulate her Ultimate Self is super witch of heart-like. this also means that in a sburb au there is every chance she could have a jade harley-esque grimdark break in which sayo finally snaps and takes out all her vengeance and frustration on the people who've wronged her instead of just dying right at the start (i would like to see it.jpg).

kanon, or the version of kanon i have interpreted into existence, is a knight of blood. knight of blood in that he is a Grumpy Short Dude and therefore peak karkat-like. also in the sense that knights are fiercely selfless and devoted to acts of protection when at their best. knights are also known for putting on fronts/personas in order to guard their true selves/feelings and in order to further their own aims (dave as coolkid, karkat as unapproachable grump, kanon as furniture/"beatrice"). blood as in bonds/connections/family - everything kanon does he does in the service of shannon, his family. one reading of knight of blood is "one who manipulates/exploits family/bonds for their own protective goals" and i think that that succinctly describes the idea of kanon using "beatrice"/kinzo's headship ring to tear at the seams of the ushiromiya family in order to save shannon. btw none of this works if my read of kanon is wrong but this is my 2000+ word long classpect post and i get to pick the interpretations.

other servants are much less solid because they've not done as much in the story yet but i'll start with gohda who i have the least to say about. i think he works as a thief of breath in that he steals the agency of other servants (ie his petty ordering around of shannon, his total snubbing of kanon) in order to make himself look better as the centre of attention. also pretty sure someone described his cooking as "breathtaking" at some point and what is a thief of breath if not "one who takes breath".

next is genji who i'm putting down as the maid of doom. maid in that he is total in his subservience to his aspect's ideal, doom in that he is honour-bound by arbitrary rules and restrictions which spell out misfortune for a lot of people. genji is contractually obligated to serve the head of the ushiromiya household unconditionally. first this is kinzo and all the atrocities genji likely oversaw over the years, then comes "beatrice" simply because "beatrice" happens to now be in possession of the ring (genji accomplice theory is real for the sake of this post i am deciding). maids also can at times use their abilities to engage in the creation of their aspect, and you could say that genji creates "doom" by upholding and enforcing the vile rule of law on rokkenjima even when nobody seems to care about it (he reinforces kanon's notion of furniture to him despite there being no material point to such a horrible form of identity degradation). who knows what genji really thinks about this because he is so bound to service i don't think he is capable of acting outside of that directive.

kumasawa works as a seer of rage. seer in that she passively demonstrates her in-depth knowledge of things (her tendency to narrate from the shadows people's turmoil). rage in that she is very bound up with gossip, discord, and the absurd. the tales she spouts could very easily tear people apart if the right person heard them. what she says often forecasts a disruptive chaotic future for those she is discussion. she is also frustrating on a metatextual level by holding a lot of answers but then always going "but alas i can do nothing but watch from a distance". also you can make the argument that if a lot of what kumasawa says is Complete Bullshit she also carries on with the rage-player trend of clouding people's judgements with falsehoods and misinformation that fits their biases (gamzee making terezi think everything was vriska's fault because terezi was already biased against vriska, kumasawa making the reader think there's a certain depth and complexity to the cast because we're already biased to seek these out these kinds of character depths). or maybe kumasawa's just a silly little clown. who can say!

last servant of the set is nanjo. he's another super shaky one but i think maybe based on what we've seen of him heir of life works. heir in that he is very passively guided by what everyone else says and does and is almost entirely reactive as a presence in the story. life in that he is a medical professional, but also life in that he is one of the ones who has a modicum of control over the narrative of How Long Kinzo Has To Live. the few things he does have authority over he has pretty absolute authority over. not even kinzo outright challenges/denies nanjo's assertion that his death is long-overdue, so in this one domain nanjo is at the peak and is something he could in theory manipulate massively to his benefit were he not spineless and out of his depth.

final two are the two masters of rokkenjima. thinking like that you would assume master classes but i have to say that kinzo is actually a bard of life and not a lord. he's a bard because his unique brand of destruction/self-immolation is done through passive abstraction - he spins the "demon's roulette" and lets fate/fortune dictate whose lives get destroyed, rather than actively going around and killing people. he gets into people's heads and forces the most life-ruining versions of themselves to the forefront - all of the ushiromiya siblings have a tiny kinzo in their brains that reminds of them of their trauma and reinforces their desire to be horrible people. he's also a bard in that despite it all, there's an element of a farce to his operation - silly old man who drinks absinthe lusts after a witch and refuses to die is funny right up until you remember the Atrocities. life aspect in that he's very obsessed with life/death/resurrection - everything is about ruining lives, about killing people, about bringing beatrice back from the dead. life also in the more obscure reading of "life = riches" - the fate of the gold/fortune rests in the hands of his schemes as much as anyone's direct mortality. so to use the threefold "one who self-destroys/passively enables the destruction of/inspires [aspect]" reading of bard, you get kinzo's whole deal as "one who self-destroys his wealth in order to passively enable the destruction of his family's lives in order to inspire the resurrection of beatrice".

finally we come to the bonus round: beatrice the golden witch. who is not a witch as per classpect rules unfortunately (she has not suffered enough and she is not serving enough of an active narrative presence to earn that title). however, unlike rokkenjima's other ruler beatrice does in fact get to claim a master class for herself. to me i think a solid read of beatrice is a muse of light. muse in that she is an extremely passive off-hand presence in the story - so off-hands in fact that her existence is wholly disputed - but her influence is so crucial as to compose every square inch of the narrative. beatrice is the witch myth. beatrice is the persona used to set the first domino of murder. beatrice is the metaphor for ill-gotten gold. beatrice exists as metaphor. a muse "exists". the light aspect is also one of the more narratologically aligned aspects dealing with truth relevance essentiality and fortune. beatrice being multiple foundational narratives affixes herself tightly to the pillars of umineko's canon, while her own manifestation/resurrection is being brought about through an epitaph and the demon's roulette - the truth behind a linguistic obscurity, and a random chance happening. canon light players also have a severe vicious streak to them and as a murderwitch waiting to start killing people the moment she is able to, beatrice also fits that criteria. basically she's the Big Bitch who is in a position to deftly pull a number of puppetstrings via her narrative abstractions and nested metaphors. to go even further she actually also fits with the one textual weakness of a super-powered muse - their powers fall apart when the validity of their constructive narrative is denied/destroyed. calliope in the epilogues risks losing everything when dirk declares her story bullshit. beatrice likely depends on others believing in her in order to perpetuate her own "existence" - if the narrative of the golden witch is not believed, there is no golden witch. the muse of light is all-powerful, yet all-fragile.

to sum up:

maria - mage of light battler - heir of time george - page of space jessica - maid of breath natsuhi - maid of blood kyrie - rogue of mind rosa - mage of space krauss - thief of void eva - prince of breath rudolf - heir of heart hideyoshi - page of light shannon - witch of heart kanon - knight of blood gohda - thief of breath genji - maid of doom kumasawa - seer of rage nanjo - heir of life kinzo - bard of life beatrice - muse of light

there you go. a semi-comprehensive classpecting of all 18 people (plus beatrice) on rokkenjima. have fun looking at these and laughing at how Off The Mark i am. i will also look back on this and laugh at myself once i gain a proper understanding of the cast.

[animechristi]

Tower of God: Symptoms of Loneliness

I place this at the service of Christ by the hands of His mother.

“It is not good that the man should be alone” - Genesis 2:18

First, disclaimers:

1.)    As of 2022, Tower of God is an unfinished webcomic written by S.I.U., so I cannot comment on the series as a finished whole.

2.)    That said, I really like ToG. I think the MC is a great example of someone growing in virtue and the author does a great job at creating a diverse cast of characters. If the art style turns you away, I suggest you hold out since it gets way better over time. Alternatively, you can watch the anime which is a good adaptation with a great OST by Kevin Penkin.

3.)    I want to talk about loneliness, but that is a wide category, so this will have to be limited to a specific type as I’ll clarify later on.

Second, here’s the plot:

            The premise of ToG is simple. There’s a tower. Climb it. Get to the top, and your dreams will come true. Simple, right? Yes and no. The issue is this: you climb each level - known as a “floor” of the tower - by passing a test, a test where there is always a winner and loser. Thus, it very quickly becomes every man for himself.

Our story begins with Bam a young boy who lives in an underground cave. One day a girl named Rachel stumbles across this cave, and the two becomes friends. But Rachel wants to climb The Tower and tells Bam to forget about her. Our infatuated boy is not to be put down and so quickly chases her up the tower.

Third, what I want to talk about:

          My focus this article is a conversation between Bam and Endorsi a girl who is living only for herself. Endorsi has no problem stepping over people to get what she wants. She grew up in a family that encouraged the strong and neglected the weak. Bam on the other hand, had no one with him in the cave and so treasures anyone he meets.

            At one point, the climbers need to get 10 signatures of “friends” they’ve made. Endorsi has set herself up as an independent climber and so she has no one to reach out to for such a task. At the same time, she finds herself out of money and so Bam buys her lunch each day in order to get her signature. Later she asks Bam why he wasted the money just to get her signature. His answer? “I hate being lonely, so I don’t want others to be lonely either.”

            Endorsi, however, doesn’t immediately say “thank you”. Instead, she tries to defend her isolation. “I like being alone,” she says, “It feels worse to be with someone. They bother you… and make you nervous, so it’s better to be alone.” But Bam turns this argument upside-down. “But doesn’t that also mean… you’re lonely?”

            His point is this: for some of us, the dislike of people is not a cause but a symptom of loneliness. And Bam proves this by his next question: “Is that how you feel with me?” To which Endorsi replies: “No.” The point is that, by realizing there are people she enjoys being with, Endorsi now understands loneliness isn’t being with people we dislike but being away from people we do like. If you’ve ever sought refuge in a friend at an event where you don’t know anyone else, I think you’ll know what I mean.

Okay, so what’s the point Mr. “Christian Commentator”

            Recall the verse at the top of this page. “It is not good that the man should be alone.” As Christians, we believe that from the beginning of our existence we are called to live in a community. This is why family is not just a social but a natural structure. Despite whatever you may read from Hobbes, Locke, or Rousseau, we never find man simply alone in a state of nature.

            We are not meant to be alone – no matter how much we convince ourselves that it’s good for us. Even the early monastic movement was aware of this with solitary hermits being the exception not the norm. You don’t take on the solitary life to be independent but to realize just how dependent you are on God. It makes us grow in humility by knowing we don’t have everything under control.

So now here’s the point.

        To move away is also to move towards. In recognizing that it is not good to be alone, we know what it is we should be looking for: building community with others. Big surprise, a recurring theme in Tower of God is whether it’s better to dominate others or work together with others to obtain your goal.

            As I mentioned at the beginning, loneliness is a broad category, so I’d like to look at a specific type of loneliness, one that makes us dislike people. Just like Endorsi – when there’s no one around us that we’re comfortable with – we can easily turn to ourselves to accomplish everything. Afterall, wouldn’t asking for help be a sign of weakness? And here pay attention to the lies of the devil: wouldn’t they think I’m stupid? Do they only help me to feel good about themselves?  Wouldn’t I be in their debt or be putting myself under them?

            All of these are ways the devil gets us to close ourselves off to others and put us in a state that is not good for us to be in. To borrow words from Classroom of the Elite, we mistake isolation for independence. We forget that God has said “Behold how good and pleasing it is when brothers dwell together” (Ps 133:1).

So what are we to do?

Talk is nice, but this is pointless if I don’t offer practical advice. I’d like to preface this by saying these aren’t magical cures, but simply things that I’ve reaped much benefit from.

Frequently invoke the name of Jesus. E.g. “Jesus Christ have mercy on me” or whatever form you find helpful and can be prayed repeatedly while you’re working. This reminds us that we can’t do anything without Him.

If you don’t have a devotion to a particular saint or your guardian angel, get one. Doesn’t matter who; start making friends with those we look forward to spending eternal life with. Just like with Jesus, talk to them about anything that’s happening.

(And this is the one I struggle with most) Put in effort to know more about people, it will help you love them. Spend time learning about their likes, dislikes, and family, and most importantly don’t be afraid to share your own life with them. (Endorsi wouldn’t have realized her scenario if she hadn’t talked with Bam about it)

As I said, this is not a cure-all. But it is a place to start. When we find ourselves hating the company of others, let’s stop and ask ourselves why. If it’s because we think we don’t need anyone, then that’s the first sign we’ve gone too far.

 

I could go on but will stop for now. Perhaps this topic can be revisited from a different perspective.

St Justin Martyr, pray for us.

[wrenoxford]

Wren’s Tattoo Meanings

Q and a diamond in red that symbolize a Queen of Diamonds- Wren got this after they produced their first album to celebrate themselves. She felt that she was becoming the queen of the world with all the access to riches (diamonds) that she could ever wish for.

“I’m a loser baby”- This a reference to Beck’s 1994 song “Loser” which they absolutely adore.

“NIGHTMARE”- This is a reference to one of her songs where she said “Someone like me/ can be a real nightmare, completely aware/ But I’d rather be a real nightmare, than die unaware, yeah/ Someone like me can be a real nightmare, completely aware/ But I’m glad to be a real nightmare, so save me your prayers.”

“999″- Wren got this tattoo to remind herself to be fully conscious every minute as she feels that nine for her means completeness, and for her that would look like being so mentally well that a moment is just… a moment.

“Life’s a Mess”- This tattoo is before the “999″ tattoo, and it was intended to be alone, but Wren decided that she wanted to add an answer to life being a mess. If it’s a mess, she should be conscious and aware at each of those moments.

“17″ with Dark Blue Lining and Teal Center- In a period of uncertainty if she was doing the right thing getting on Youtube, Wren pulled Tarot cards to give her a sense of guidance, and The Star card seemed to fly right at her as she was shuffling. It was then that she knew she was on the right track. The Star card is the 17th card in the tarot deck.

XXX- Wren has always railed against people expecting everyone  to be perfect, and once they heard their step-father say that Wren should have a sign on theme at all time that warned people that they  were explicit. She thought this was funny and tattooed herself with the  explicit symbol.

Line Drawing of Roses- they just  thought it was a pretty design, and they wanted to have something  elegant.

Self portrait of themselves with  the word ‘EVERYTHING’- This is a reminder to themselves that  they have to be everything. That there isn’t going to be anyone to save  or drive them.

Sheet music in black ink- this obviously symbolizes the work that she does every day. It’s a celebration of that which makes her happiest in life.

Ombre red and grey image of Mars- Mars was the god of war in Roman mythology, and for Wren it meant to keep fighting every day for what she wants.

“Heaven in Hiding”- this is a reference to a song on her first album titled that.

A Frowning Ghost- The ghost doesn’t mean anything. Just a neat tattoo

Line Drawing of Match with Red Tip-  Wren randomly selected a couple of their fans to get matching  matchstick tattoos with them, they’re each going to add a flame once  they’ve accomplished something major.

Horseshoe-  In tattoo culture, you’re not supposed to tattoo a horseshoe upside down because it means all the luck is spilling out, so it’s actually bad  luck. they got an upside-down horseshoe to signify that they don’t  need luck.

Pair of Jeans with Playboy Icon on Butt-  Wren thinks playboy magazines are neat, and they have always wanted to be on one.

“Sins” and “Forgiveness” on either side of Balance-  It’s a reminder to Wren that forgiving herself will always help  balance out the damage of her sins. She still has trouble believing  this, but is there to help remind her.

“No Face” from Spirited Away-  This movie was one of Wren’s favorite movies to watch with their father.

“These violent delights have violent ends”- This quote is a reference to something that Friar Laurence says to Romeo  in Romeo and Juliet. It meant that the violent (extreme) desires of  Romeo and Juliet was always going to end in ruin, and Wren has  always felt that was how her romantic life had gone.

Butterfly-  Butterflies became an integral image in her second album.

Brat-  This is a reference to how her father would lovingly call her a brat when she was young.

“The Crazy Kind”-  This was a lyric that they had in their song, “Him and I”.

“f”-  F is for focus. It’s the tattoo Wren touches when she is anxious.

“Serendipity”-  Serendipity is a word that means ‘a happy accident’” to Wren. This was how her birth father explained her existence, because he and her mother didn’t realize they wanted a forever kid until they met her. It was an accident, but he seemed to have thought of her as a happy one. This was how she wanted to remember him. Happy.

“BABY”-  Look sometimes a person needs to have a little fun.

Four Leaf Clover-  You gotta be pretty lucky to see this tattoo ;)

“HOPELESS”-  This is a reference to her second album.

“Four elements” inspired by Little Prince-  The cactus symbolizes loneliness and the desert the main characters were  in, the fox represents the fox in the story what helped the Little  Prince see the value of his rose, the volcano symbolizes the volcanoes  on the home planet of the Little Prince, and the rose symbolizes the  vain, fragile rose that the Little Prince cared so much about.

Dagger on Calf-  The dagger is to remind themselves that they can be dangerous, but that  they can also be incredibly delicate- and both can be true.

“13″ Dagger on Thigh-  Much like Judas Iscariot arriving as the 13th person at the feast with Jesus, Wren has always felt a bit like a bad omen amongst the ‘families’ she’s been part of. She feels like the dagger that always brings things down.

Mouths Kissing- Wren just thought this was pretty.

“POOR THING” bandaid-  She kept hurting her knees as a child, so she eventually got this as a sort of joke to herself.

“SEEDS”-  Wren liked to think of it as her planting seeds with every step.

“NCF”-  Wren got this tattoo with a fan. It was her fan’s initials. Her fan has “RPC” and an anchor on their foot.  

[thecreationofevelyn]

7/2/2023

Who I want to become vs who I currently am.

The past two days have felt like an absolute battle in my mind, I'm so angry at myself and have been constantly condemning myself for "failing". I've been practicing being kinder to myself but I'm beginning to struggle when I see myself having made choices and still actively making choices that go against my own benefit and ultimately land me in waters where I feel anxious, worried, overwhelmed and have my motivation knocked out of me because I slip into the "well, what's the point now?!" mindset, I just get mad at myself for being "pathetic". It is all extremely human of me.

Sometimes I forget that is what I am, a human being...just trying and learning. I give this compassion to everyone else but I struggle to offer it to myself; I expect myself to have everything figured out and to be able to do everything all at once, constantly, and have done it perfectly. If I lose my motivation, if I make a poor choice, if I can't find the energy to make myself do something, I then start punishing myself mentally, asking myself why I'm like this, why can't I just be more disciplined and loyal to who I envision for myself, how do I expect myself to do anything if I carry on like this? When will I realize I need to put the effort in if I want these results? etc etc, etc.

I have missed an assignment for university, realistically I can contact student support and ask for an exceptional circumstances form and be granted the opportunity to hand this assignment in at a later date, they are aware that I struggle with bouts of poor mental health already. But I feel like the fact that I couldn't keep up, that I couldn't get the piece done on time, that I'm actually nowhere near done with it, means I'm a complete loser.

I've also put more weight on than I'm happy with, I naturally have a fast metabolism so really I should be thankful I've only put on what I have because it's also taken years for me to put it on, but I can't stop punishing myself for choosing to eat a poor diet and not exercise properly, for taking advantage of having a fast metabolism in the first place; I'm even angrier at myself for the money I have wasted on fast food that doesn't even taste nice, all for the convenience because at the end of so many days, after working, being a mom, a carer, a uni student, learning to drive, taking an English course and being the only adult in my house, I didn't have the energy or motivation to cook all the time.

And I am angry at my sleeping habits, it's currently gone 2am and I'm sitting in bed writing this, knowing damn well I'm going to be exhausted in the morning. I'm sick of opening my eyes and the first wave of feeling I have is dread. Did I miss my alarm? Has the bus arrived yet? Have I missed the start of the day? Have I failed before my eyes even opened?!

Honestly, I cannot take this feeling anymore, I'm so sick and tired of being this person.

But I am trying, and it's little steps but I'm still kicking myself for the steps I missed.

Some positives; I joined a dance class to socialize and exercise plus I joined a drama group, but I won't be meeting with them until next week as they are currently running a production. I planned a diet and have begun it, I've made a playlist of exercise routines and have planned out time in the day to go for walks. I bought herbal tea that helps you sleep and began using a weighted eye mask too, I'm setting THREE loud alarms to go off all at the same time! Tomorrow I will contact student support to put what I need in place too.

I feel like I'm climbing a mountain in flip-flops all the time, and the moment I slip, I'm furious at myself for not being apparently capable enough. Sometimes I think I'm being too harsh on myself and other times I don't think I'm harsh enough to myself. I think I let myself get away with everything.

I need to realize that I cannot entirely change my habits and lifestyle overnight, but I also have to realize that I cannot stop trying to do better because I slipped up on a part; I'm rarely ever in a grey zone even when I'm aware of there being one, I always think in black and white, which doesn't work for real life! Writing like this helps me get my thoughts down though and helps me rationalize where my brain is being extremist which it is inclined to do more often than not.

Goodnight xo

[ms3ox]

milky

Pairing: Akechi Goro/Reader

Rating: Mature, AU: Blood-Indicative Morality

Words: 4,763

Notes on on AO3, PLEASE READ: https://archiveofourown.org/works/40965519

TW: blood

“Ow! Ugh…” The battered first-year cradled his nose.

A group of three, likely upperclassmen, surrounded the poor boy, sneering at the milky-white liquid that deluged from his nostrils.

“What?” The tallest simpered. “You not gonna fight back, loser?”

He dug his hands into his pockets, churlishly towering over the quivering kid and relishing in the small pool of pellucid liquid that contrasted the dark black of his polished soles.

You pitied the boy.

The yellowed bruises that littered his stringy arms led you to believe that this was not the first time. Nor would it be the last.

Because your academy does not have the time to spare for such paltry matters as bullying.

They probably thought that no one saw how they picked the boy up by the scruff of his baggy polo at the end of the school day and dragged him by fistfuls of mangy hair into the small alleyway between two campus buildings. Or the way they reached into his tattered, blazer pockets and gypped his wallet for all it was worth.

But you did.

You liked to tell yourself that you were an average person; that the effulgent color that seeped from your knees when you tripped and fell the other day was a sign of your good-naturedness. It wasn’t hard, exactly— to be good. All you really had to do was avoid being “bad”. What you didn’t like was the fact that despite watching the kid get the light beat out of his amiable eyes for the past five minutes, you hadn’t stepped in to do a thing.

You wanted to.

But you supposed that your wallet was not nearly heavy enough to satiate their prodigality.

That, by all intents and purposes, was not good.

“Hey,” said a voice that made you jump. “Oh! I didn’t mean to scare you– my apologies.”

You shook your head, flashing a smile toward your confidant. “Don’t worry about it.”

In the corner of your eye, his head began to tilt. When he realized what you were looking at, his jaw wound tight.

“I’m going to go help him. Wait here.”

“Ah- Hey!” You reached a hand out to grab the frays of his peacoat, but the bullies had noticed him before you got the chance.

By the time you caught up to him, you caught the tail end of his abrupt introduction.

“What does the righteous ‘Detective Prince’ want with us?” The boy to the right of the tallest mocked, cracking his knuckles as if he were readying for a fight. “You gonna report us or something? Ha! You may care about ‘justice’ or whatever, but the administration sure as hell doesn’t.”

The detective remained calm, paying you no mind as you practically hovered over his shoulder.

“I am aware of our current administrative situation, and I assure you, where I will be reporting you is ‘sure as hell’ not them.”

The group faltered, the poor boy from before seemingly becoming an afterthought in the realization of what your friend had meant.

“Something like this would typically fall under ‘assault and battery’, which would mean, since all three of you are third-years, that you would no longer be tried as children.” A small, prescient smile decorated the detective's face. “I’m sure you know what I’m getting at.”

The tallest seethed between his teeth. “What do you know?! You think you’re so much better than everyone because you got a job with the police! I won’t take shit from pigs like you!”

The tallest lurched forward, fist brandished.

“Hrrk!”

Akechi stumbled back.

His briefcase took a tumble too, falling to the ground and cracking open at your feet. You rapidly crouched and collected the items– a pen, a pencil case, a wallet, and… a long, black, cylinder-shaped object?

You staved off your confusion, shoving all of his things back into the case and wobbling to your feet with it.

“Ah-!” You rushed to his side, peeking under the thick veil of his hair to see how bad the bruising on his cheek was. “Are you okay?”

The bullies made something of a snide comment that ultimately went in one ear and out the other. Akechi didn’t respond, but the steadying of himself on his feet was damning enough. It seemed the first-year had good enough sense to run away.

“Well–” he sighed, cradling his cheek, “I suppose I’ll have to add ‘assault of a law enforcement officer’ onto your growing list of crimes.”

The group snickered at his response, seemingly taking it as a joke before he whipped his phone out and began typing.

“Wait– you’re not–”

“I am.”

The tallest nearly choked on his own spit.

Once he finished typing on a screen you couldn’t read, Akechi tilted his head to the side, all twisted smiles and false innocuousness.

“Expect a visit from local law enforcement tonight,” he said, a pleasant edge to his tone that made a shiver run up your spine. “Your personal information is logged in my school registry and I’ve taken photo and video evidence of what has transpired here today. Not to mention that I could easily procure a warrant to check the security tapes.”

Akechi pocketed his device.

“If you have any sense left to spare, I’d be honest with the good officers.” He turned, waltzing away with a cockiness that he could barely hide. “Who knows? Maybe you’ll be let off with an ankle monitor if you play nice.”

The bullies chose then to be smart and made no moves to even approach your friend following his venomous, foreboding, yet still somehow-amicable judgment.

Before they could do anything further, you raced to catch up with your friend. Tapping his hand, you gave him his briefcase.

“Well, that was…” Your mind ran through at least ten columns of adjectives. “Ominous.”

Akechi let out a soft laugh, utterly unbefitting the mood.

“Don’t worry, I didn’t actually report them.”

You made a small noise of confusion.

“Think of it as a mind game, of sorts,” he continued, “I pretended to report them so that they’d become paranoid of the idea of incarceration. A good trick, no? Besides, the Shibuya Police Department is far too busy with other matters than to deal with a couple of delinquents.”

“Trick” is putting it lightly.

“Though maybe I could gather a few officers and pay them off to do some rounds…”

“Yeah…” You let out a nervous laugh at the sadistic tendencies of your friend. “What of the boy though?”

“The boy?”

“The boy that was getting beaten. He was innocent, and once those boys realize that they’re not going to be arrested, they’ll probably gang up on him even harder.”

Akechi’s eyes, for the first time since you’d begun walking home, had met your own.

“How do you know he’s innocent?”

Here we go.

Exasperation choked your sigh. “Must you question everything, Akechi?”

He tucked a strand of hair behind his ear. “Such is my nature.”

You hummed incredulously, shaking your head.

“His blood was white, Akechi. Not gray, white. Whiter than probably yours– and that’s saying a lot.”

The detective’s chest bounced harder than it should have at your quip.

“And how do you know my blood is white, hm?”

Your retort lodged in your throat. It appeared as if he were joking, but you couldn’t help but linger on the weird look in his eyes. Shaking your head, your gaze focused on the sidewalk ahead.

“I mean, isn’t that the assumption?” Wow, you sounded super unsure of yourself. “You’re always talking about civil service and upholding justice… I think it's kind of a given.”

Even on the off-chance that Akechi wasn’t just trying to relish in the look of you second-guessing yourself, there were only a handful of crimes that could completely mire a person’s blood. You highly doubted that someone like your righteous detective friend had the capability of murder.

“I’m not so sure,” he teased, “investigative work does have a tendency to land me in some unfavorable positions from time to time.”

After seeing the heavy look of concern etched onto your features, he promptly assured you that he was only joking and that everyone in his precinct gets blood tests annually for that exact reason. To which you responded with softened shoulders and a content smile.

His brows furrowed, and he tilted his head questioningly. You felt the beginnings of a philosophical rant lick at your ears.

“But what is ‘justice’ anyway? How does one define such an abstract topic? I’ve seen some contend with the law because ‘justice is blind’, but is it really so black and white? My own justice is purely oriented from said legal perspective, but there are other definitions for ‘justice’, no?”

He was so cute when he verbally lost himself in his own head.

“All right, all right, Aristotle,” you giggled, giving a playful smack to his shoulder, “let’s patch that bruise up first and then deliberate the subjectivity of justice.”

“Well, this is certainly going to be difficult to cover up…”

Akechi hummed solemnly, pulling gingerly at the skin of his cheek and analyzing the vaguely knuckle-shaped mark.

You wrapped a bag of ice in a thin towelette. His face wasn’t too marred, but it was a tad swollen.

“I could always take you to get some concealer,” you answered, handing him the makeshift ice pack, “or you could try some of mine.”

He muttered a small “thanks” before daintily pressing the bundle on his face, then drawing his arm back and hissing at the touch. You leaned in closer to his side, inspecting the injury.

“Does it hurt?” With a small “oh!” you raced to your medicine cabinet. “Here, I’ll get you some painkillers.”

You snatched the small pill bottle and turned around. Then you saw his face.

“A-... Akechi?”

His nose was bleeding.

“Hmm?”

His nose was bleeding a thick, ichored black.

With confusion laden in his furrowed brow, he turned to the mirror and was horrified with what he saw. He gasped through his teeth, and scrambled for something to cover up with, the inky fluid already beginning to stain his palm.

You couldn’t even bring yourself to care that the ice had spilled all over the floor– not with the way your mind reeled. Should you run? Call someone?

—No, Akechi is your friend! He would never…

You gnawed your bottom lip. Maybe it was just the lighting?

You were promptly corrected by the blackened stains that sprinkled his white undershirt.

Your brain was teeming with words, flickering between different questions every nanosecond– but even then, the only thing you managed to stutter out was: “...How?”

His eyes raked over your form. You were unmoving– bullets of sweat burgeoned all across your body, you could feel your heartbeat in your ears, and your eyes began to sting from how long you’d forced them open. Akechi swiped his tongue over his lips, the gears in his head turning before realizing that he was, in fact, still bleeding and required a tissue.

His mired hand dropped uselessly at his side as the cloth muffled his words.

“I know I said I was joking earlier…” he mumbled, “b- but–”

“No!” Your screech caught you by surprise. “No, no… this doesn’t… make sense…”

The white tissue had begun to poison with the amount of blood it soaked up.

Black pants, black gloves… how could you not have seen it sooner? And…

“That was a silencer in your briefcase… wasn’t it?”

His bloodied hand shot up, doing a poor job of looking defensive. “Let me exp–”

“When you were hit, you dropped your briefcase,” you continued, posture straightening, “Some of your things fell out of it.”

Between tissues, Akechi’s eyes widened.

“That long, black thing was a silencer, I presume.” You really didn’t like where this revelation was headed toward. “Why on Earth do you have that in your briefcase, Akechi?”

Akechi’s adam’s apple bobbed, eyes finding more interest in the floor than you.

“So… the weird calls you’ve been getting… and the tendency you have to disappear at odd hours… and– and the bandages–”

You felt tears brimming on your waterline. “Oh my god!”

Akechi took a rapid step towards you, seizing your bicep in his muddied grip.

“You can’t tell anybody. Do you understand?”

His voice grew hoarse, growling after every syllable. The fear from before coursed through your nerves. You shrunk beneath him, knees weak and hands trembling. This was not your friend. Who had you been entertaining all this time?

…God, you don’t want to be alone again.

“Let– Let go of me!”

Monster.

His grip softened.

“Monster?” His voice trembled just above a whisper. Somewhere along the altercation, Akechi’s newest tissue had fallen to the ground, exposing the smudges of dried ichor beneath. He withdrew, head bowed and fringe hanging just below his eyelashes.

“Promise me,” he muttered, “Promise me you won’t tell a soul. I… I can’t…”

He wiped the dried blood away with his sleeve, adding to the already morbid miscellany of stains on his shirt.

The world seemed to hate you. Making friends was difficult enough. You found solace with Akechi for that precise reason. But of course. Of course, fate would do this to you. Of course, fate would reverse the order— flipping the Star only to reveal the Tower licking at its heels. Hope, followed by complete turmoil.

Of course, fate would have it that the only person in the world you could securely call a friend would be a murderer.

“We should… wash that…”

He looked at you oddly– disbelievingly. “What?”

You gestured at his shirt. “Your clothes– they’re-uh-.”

Stepping forward, your fingers laced in his tie, pulling it loose from his shirt. You weren’t sure if the noise that came from his mouth was a breath or a gasp, but he clearly wasn’t going to kill you… so long as you didn’t tell anyone, right? You could… do that. You could. He’s still your friend. He wouldn’t have poured so much of his apparently valuable time into hanging out with you if it didn’t mean he cared, right?

It’s not like anyone would believe you even if you did go to the authorities. The Detective Prince? Murdering people? Ha! What a farce. They’d laugh you out of the building before you could say another word.

Your hands stabilized themselves on his shoulders, then glided down to his chest. Your stare nearly burned a hole through the juncture of the bottom of his neck and his clavicle.

“I’ll try to find a shirt that fits you. Keep… icing your cheek.”

You left him in your bathroom, trusting– hoping that you wouldn’t end up on the other end of that silencer tonight. The search for clothes was mindless. You touched the fabrics, ran your fingers over the textures, but it felt like touching air. Your nerves had worked themselves into a slump.

In a blur, you ended up finding an old hoodie your father gave you, which had always been three sizes too big.

Akechi’s shirt was fully unbuttoned by the time you returned, and it seemed that you still had the nerve to fluster. He turned with a languid impetus, keeping his movements short and stiff as he let you place the shirt onto his hands. He was treating you like a skittish animal.

You felt his gaze on the tops of your eyelids, but you refused to make the connection, instead finding purchase in the small divot between his pectorals.

“I’m going to order some food,” you droned, dropping the weight of the fabric fully into his grip, “do you have any preferences?”

How silly– treating a criminal with such respect.

But he’s your friend! He’s not just some stranger!

He’s killed people. Why do you think his blood is so dark?

But he’s always been kind…

He lied to you.

Your face scrunched up at your internal polarization. How do you even go about this? You’ve already concluded that reporting him is a fruitless endeavor, so how do you navigate this mess? Maybe the best option was to completely cut him out of your life… but then you’d really have no one to turn to. You don’t even remember hearing of a serial killer on the news but–

Wait… who has he been killing then?

The tension sunk your features.

“Whatever you want is fine with me.”

If you weren’t so tired, maybe you’d have seen the saddened smile that tugged at the corners of his mouth.

Exiting once again, you tapped listlessly at your phone, placing an order at a local ramen shop. You remembered eating at a ramen shop with Akechi once and being offered a drink by some sleazy patron whom Akechi quickly shut down with one of his witty remarks that he always seemed to have tucked into his back pocket.

You only realized you were smiling when your face sagged back into a frown.

The T.V. might be a nice distraction, you thought and found fleeting mental peace by listening to the pantomime characters and their juvenile drama.

A pleasantly wrong voice interrupted your trance. “I hope you don’t mind me using your laundry machine.”

“No,” you answered meekly, “go ahead.”

In the corner of your eye, Akechi lingered before slinking away with his bundle of tarnished clothing. The subtle hum of the machine nearly drowned out his tentative footsteps, making him almost undetectable until he appeared beside you and joined you on the sofa.

“For what it's worth,” he began, sounding a little too unsure of himself, “I did derive genuine enjoyment from our conversations in the courtyard.”

Your sight fell out of focus, and you couldn’t bring yourself to force it back to clarity.

“And the study sessions at the diner… and…” His voice trailed off at your silence.

“Why did you lie to me?”

Your head turned to face him, taking in his malaise.

“I didn’t want to lose you.”

“That could mean many things.”

“It does.”

Whatever expression you gave made him visibly disconcerted, but he understood your silent plea for elaboration.

“At the most basic level, it means that I feared your reaction if I told you. Or that you’d get wrapped up in it somehow and I’d lose you that way.” He leaned on his forearms. “Truth be told, I’ve never gotten this close with anyone before… Can you really blame me for wanting to preserve what little I have?”

You huffed. “That’s rather oxymoronic.”

His eyes narrowed at the carpet. “It’s as I said before– I grew up lacking in a lot of areas. Money, safety, friendship… I thought that after my mother died I was fated to be alone. And… well, I figured if that was the case, then I’d at least make myself someone I, alone, would be proud of.”

You gnawed at the inside of your cheek. “So you’re proud of being a murderer?”

He made a small noise, apprehension pulling his limbs taut. He wiped his palms against his pants.

“It may sound a little morbid, but the murders themselves aren’t what I take pride in– but rather, what lies at the end of them.”

“So you have a goal then?”

He huffed, turning his gaze to meet yours. “Do you remember what I told you about my father? How he abandoned my mother?”

You nodded.

“All of it is to get revenge on him– to make him atone for raking my mother’s name through the mud so deep that she drowned in it.”

You could see the veins pumping fresh blood through the skin of his hand from how hard his fist had clenched. You didn’t have all the pieces to this puzzle, that you were sure of, but the memory of Akechi’s eyes stricken with a pain so deep, lips upturned in disgust, and knuckles so pronounced you could see his skin through his gloves back when he initially told you about his mother all those months ago gave credence to the idea of not getting in his way.

You didn’t agree with his methods, but abandonment seemed to follow you wherever you went. The feeling of your heart strings reaching out for a person who wasn’t there was something you were well acquainted with.

“If you’d like to stop being friends because you know the truth about me, I won’t be angry,” he finished, despondently sinking in on himself.

“I won’t”

His head snapped toward you.

“I can’t say I agree with what you’re doing… but I won’t stop being your friend.”

He outwardly appeared shocked, mouth hanging open and eyes wide, but his irises held the stars in them. They disappeared just as quickly as they appeared, much to your chagrin, when they spotted the bloodstain on your sleeve.

“Ah- I’m sorry for grabbing you like that earlier. I… panicked.” He rose to his feet, giving you a hand. “Cold water should do the trick. I’ll do my best to wash it off.”

You took his hand, wobbling to your feet and standing still for long enough that Akechi quirked a brow at you.

In a decision that never really crossed your mind to begin with, you wrapped your arms around his waist, nuzzling your head into his sternum. He still looked like your friend– felt like him too. And he smelled like he always did; like that–sometimes permeating– waft of absinthe and sandalwood with a note of marine. Comforting, soothing, usual.

You weren’t sure what you expected. Maybe you thought that something about him would change with this new information. Something about him that would make you want to hiss and reflex away like you’d put your hand into a boiling pot. But it didn’t. Akechi had not changed a bit between the time you didn’t know and the time you did. Maybe that was terrifying, or maybe that was assuaging.

The security you felt after his arms wrapped around you confirmed the latter.

Everything could go back to the way it was– no, nothing had changed at all to begin with. You wouldn’t be alone anymore. You could overlook a few things if that’s what it took. It wasn’t hard to be good. Just avoid being bad.

Upon pushing yourself away, you tried to search for the malice in his eyes, but the harder you looked the more empty-handed you came up. That familiar lidded, russet stare held your gaze softly, lightly twitching from place to place as he studied your own face.

A hand came up to cradle your jaw, ink still faintly nestled between the cracks of his palm. You’d only realized you were leaning completely on him when his grip around your back tightened to accommodate. Akechi’s thumb swiped across your bottom lip, fingertip settling in the middle of your lips and coaxing them open. His gaze had stilled.

You puckered your lips, giving the pad of his thumb a feather-light kiss and entangling your fingers with the hand that rested on your cheek in a silent affirmation of it’s okay. His eyes were so pretty up close.

Akechi sucked in a breath, physically wavering between wanting to push away or get closer. You pressed his stained hand harder onto your skin. His impulsivity would decide.

And it did.

You couldn’t see his eyes anymore, but his lips collided with yours– an equivalent exchange.

Your other hand traveled up the length of his shirt, settling on his nape and curling into his baby hairs. You closed your eyes for a better taste. Bubbling from his throat was a weak sound that made your nerves tingle. Your face grew warm under his palm, savoring the cloudy feeling of breathlessness between kisses. In fact, he hardly let you breathe at all. When you separated for a modicum of air, he grunted, angry that you were apart, and forced your lips together once more.

You groaned, tilting your head to the side and deepening the kiss. If you weren’t allowed to breathe, neither was he. You audibly smacked your lips together until the room began spinning and silently agreed that okay, maybe breathing is necessary to survive.

Akechi leaned his forehead on yours, heavy breathing filling the silence. Once your heart stopped beating the oxygen from your chest, he dove forward once more, ensnaring you in a searing, passionate–

Ding! Ding!

Ah.

Ding! Ding!

“The food. Right.” You reluctantly pulled away, praying that the delivery man wouldn’t notice the healthy rouge that tinted your face. Or the black bloodstain on your very white uniform shirt.

Shit.

You hid partially behind the door, accepting the bag with a dry smile. You flashed Akechi an even more awkward smile upon turning around. He seemed to reciprocate, so maybe it wasn’t as bad as you thought.

“I got you beef ramen. That’s what you got last time, right?”

He padded over to the kitchen. “I’m surprised you remember.”

“Of course I did,” you replied, taking out the bowls and grabbing utensils.

You opened your bowl and took it to the sofa, lounging between the cushions and grabbing the remote. Akechi, meanwhile, appeared as if he weren’t sure where to put himself. You beckoned him over.

“C’mere. Let’s watch a movie.”

He wordlessly joined you, carefully placing his own bowl on the coffee table and hunching over to eat it. You mindlessly clicked through a sea of suggestions before picking a random romantic comedy that appeared decent enough to entertain. Neither of you said a word while you ate. The movie was a nice distraction from your thoughts.

Yes, you were going to shove this information down into the deepest parts of you so the darkness there could chew on it and spit it out, never to be brought back to the surface again unless it was impossible to avoid. Akechi very plainly stated that he didn’t want you involved, so “involved” you will not be. Simple.

Healthy? No. Neither was the ramen.

You slurped up the last of the broth and set your empty bowl on the table. The arm you extended reminded you of the fact that you were still wearing your soiled shirt, and cleaning a bloodstain from your couch cushions was not something you felt like doing. You thumbed at the buttons of your uniform, undoing them casually and untucking the bottom from your skirt. You also casually forgot that you were not the only person in your apartment. Looking over, Akechi’s gaze was dutifully averted, but the tips of his ears shone bright red, making you giggle. He cleared his throat awkwardly, unsure of where to direct his gaze as you handed him the shirt.

“You said you’d wash it. I hope you haven’t forgotten.”

A devious grin tugged at the corners of your mouth as you watched his eyes flicker nervously between your chest and your face. You wanted to tease him more– play it up a little. You leaned on your arms, biceps pushing the mounds of your chest closer together. The action made his blush crawl from his ears down to his neck.

Akechi gulped, nodding along as if he didn’t look like a chaste deer-in-the-headlights.

You leaned in with a sultry chuckle, giving his lips a short peck before skipping off to your room. The confused noise he made replayed in your mind as you pulled a sweatshirt over your head.

After you were comfortable, you returned to your living room, spotting Akechi hunched over the sink and scrubbing at the stain. You walked over, leaning into his side. The stain seemed to be mostly gone; the only evidence that it had existed in the first place was the small, grayed outline.

“Thank you, Goro,” you purred, taking the shirt and wringing it out, savoring his shocked expression in your peripherals.

You carried the damp shirt over to your dryer and haphazardly threw it in. You could see Ak– Goro’s reflection in the metal.

He spun you around, caging you against the machine. He dove down onto you, shoving his lips against yours with a hungry grunt. You kissed him back with a passionate fervor, fingers hooking around his belt loops and urging his body onto you. He groaned your given name into your mouth.

“Can I stay over?”

He gave you little time to respond before capturing your lips once more. Your fingers played with his belt, steadily undoing it until it came undone with a clank.

“Of course, Goro,” you whispered, breathing his air, “Just don’t forget your tie.”

His fly was quick to unzip.

[slasherhaven]

What would happen if one of the sinclair brothers made a move on one of the sibling s/o?? If that makes any sense, I'm so sorry if I doesn't, but what would happen then, of like bo made a move on Vincent's s/o??

Let’s be real, Bo is the only one of them that would hit on his brother’s s/o 😂

The Sinclair Brothers reacting to another brother making a move on their S/O:

Bo Sinclair

You started dating Bo after settling down in Ambrose and none of the brothers were very surprised. Bo had always been the more attractive, more charismatic brother and he was always flirting with you. Vincent and Lester just knew it was a matter of time before the two of you got together, and eventually you did.

But that didn’t mean that another brother wasn’t interested in you, Lester had feelings for you pretty much since he first met you.

Ever since you started staying in Ambrose, Lester had been friendly and tried to make you comfortable but pretty much gave up all hope in you seeing something in him when Bo started flirting with you. You would pick his brother, he knew it, so he never told you about his feelings.

Lester gets what you see in his brother and what you wouldn’t see in him, but he just knew that he could treat you better. If you were with him, you would never have to worry about the type of mood he was in, he would never snap at you, never ignore you. 

He just wished that you could see that you deserved better than what Bo offered you, and he hoped that you would see that he would treat you right.

Bo knows. Bo is well aware of Lester’s feelings for you, even before you were dating. But when Bo wants something, he gets it, and he wanted you.

He also knows what Lester thinks of your relationship, he sees the look on his brother’s face when he snaps at you or acts cold towards you. But Lester doesn’t see the better moments, because Bo does genuinely care for you even if he doesn’t always let himself show it.

It frustrates Bo that Lester questions your relationship, that he thinks you would be better with him, even if Lester never actually said any of that to him. He just knew from the way his younger brother looked at you and it pissed him off.

Now, Lester wouldn’t actually make a move on you if you were dating one of his brothers but he might express some concerns if you’re his friend and you’re dating Bo. Just asking if you’re alright, if you’re happy. 

He wouldn’t actually want to put you in the situation of having your boyfriend’s brother making a move on you. But he couldn’t say that if you made a move on him, he would turn you down, because he probably wouldn’t.

Since Bo knows about his brother’s feelings and his concerns piss him off, he’s going to retaliate. He’ll rub your relationship in Lester’s face, being extra close to you when his brother his around.

Not really being more affectionate, but he always has an arm around you or a hand on you, smacking/grabbing your ass, having you sit on his lap, anything to bother his brother.

Bo doesn’t really fear losing you to Lester but he’s going to make damn sure that never happens. And he’s going to make damn sure that Lester remembers that you’re his.

Vincent Sinclair

You had just taken to Vincent more than the other brothers as you got used to life in Ambrose, Lester wasn’t always around and Bo is much more difficult to deal with. You just enjoyed your time with Vincent and ended up falling for him.

Now the two of you were in a loving relationship, and you truly loved each other more than anything.

Of course, it was never quite that simple. Bo had been a flirt since the beginning but you never even humoured him, you were more interested in his twin.

After you and Vincent started dating, Bo would continue with the flirting but you weren’t all that surprised by that.

While Bo might have a soft spot for you, with you being family and all, he doesn’t have the same feelings for you that Vincent has.

And Bo knows that.��

In the end Bo is just a sore loser about you choosing Vincent over him when he had been so forward about his intentions.

Bo still flirted with you pretty often, sometimes it’s just a passing comment and other times it’s like he’s actually attempting to seduce you.

Vincent doesn’t like it at all, it always makes him uncomfortable and insecure. Even he had been sure that you would choose Bo over him before you actually got together.

You had gotten used to the flirting but hated how it made Vincent feel, shouldn’t Bo be more considerate about his twin’s feelings?

Vincent doesn’t really say anything to Bo (or even to you) but he does go quiet, clearly upset by his brother’s behaviour, and you notice.

But that usually results in you following him to his workroom, where you will reassure him that you’re only interested in him and Bo is just being a jerk about the whole thing.

Vincent knows that you’re not interested in Bo and that Bo doesn’t actually have any feelings for you so nothing would ever come from the flirting, but he can’t help letting his insecurities bother him.

However, if Bo actually touched you and made you uncomfortable, Vincent would absolutely step in. That’s going too far, you had rejected him and even if you weren’t dating him, Bo shouldn’t get so close or touchy when you’re clearly uncomfortable.

Bo is actually a little proud of his brother for standing up for both you and himself.

Lester Sinclair 

After deciding to let you live, Bo thought it would be best that you stay with Lester. The two of you just grew close living together, he was friendly and welcoming considering the circumstances, until you eventually started dating.

You would take frequent trips into Ambrose and out of the twins, you were definitely closer to Vincent. Bo wasn’t very kind to you but Vincent was, and the longer you knew him the better friends you became.

Over that time, Vincent had actually developed a crush on you.

Lester and you didn’t really notice it because he wasn’t too obvious about it, you were just his friend and that’s how you both saw it. But Bo notices, because he gets to see the way his head perks up when he finds out that you’re coming to visit, and teases his twin about it quite a lot. 

There was only one time that Lester got a little jealous at seeing you and Vincent together.

Vincent would never make a move on one of his brother’s s/o but he enjoys spending time with you as a friend, he will take what he can get.

This time you and Vincent must have just been getting a long a little too well and Bo made a comment to Lester about the two of you just to wind him up.

Lester would sulk at most, he wouldn’t get mad at either of you or cause any argument.

When you question him on his change in behaviour, he will be honest, saying that he got a little jealous of you and Vincent spending so much time together.

But it’s pretty easy to reassure him, he doesn’t think you’re going to cheat on him or anything. He trusts both you and Vincent in that.

Even if he found out that Vincent actually had a crush on you, he probably wouldn’t worry too much but he would become more aware of the looks that his brother gives you.

[theweasleysredhair]

An Exhibition of Muggle Duelling [G.W.]

Character: George Weasley

Word Count: 2042

Requested?: Yes/No

Summary: Angry George is hot. He’s even hotter when he’s fighting. Based on that scene - you know the one - in Order of the Phoenix.

Tags: @gracemayhateyou @criminalyetminimal @angelinathebook @iprobablyshipit91 @potterverseimagine @slytherineheir @kpopgirlbtssvt @rexorangecouny @mytreec @hemmoporro @thisismysketchbook @acciotwinz @shadowsinger11 @aaannabbanana @lestersglitterglue @anyasthoughts @lxncelot @harrypotter289 @starlightweasley @slytherinsunrise @valwritesx @hufflrpuffforfred @cappsikle @kiwi-sloan @potter-redheads @pigwidgexn @twinkyjohnson @sarcasticallywitty15 @tyyyweasley @afriendlyneighborhoodhufflepuff @wonderful-writer @marauders-loving-queen @vogueweasley @marvelettesassemble @thisismynerdyself @gcdric @loony-loopy-lupinn @gloryekaterina @tinylumpiaa @locke-writes @wand3ringr0s3 @ickle-ronniekins @sehunasbitch @cryingforcrystalpepsi @kashishwrites @girl-next-door-writes @susceptible-but-siriusexual @crissdanvers @whiz-bangs78 @oh-for-merlins-sake @heavenlymidnight @aylinw3asley @vivianweasley @andineversawyoucoming @nkjktk | message or send an ask to be removed! unfortunately, my taglist is closed until further notice due to hitting the max. amount allowed on one post!

Disclaimer: Gif isn't mine, credit to whoever made it

A/n: shoutout to kaylah ( @pit-and-the-pen ) for finding the pages that the fight scene takes place and sending them to me - literal angel, thank you sm my love!! ❤️ also the ending isn’t great, i had a breakdown trying to figure out what to write, but hope you guys like it anyway 😂

~*~

PLEASE DO NOT REPOST MY WORK! REBLOGS ARE ABSOLUTELY FINE! <3

+ + + + +

Gryffindor had won.

It was supposed to be a happy occasion, despite the song Malfoy had gotten many of the Slytherin students to sing, but as you ran down the steps from the stand and onto the pitch, followed closely by Hermione, you realised something was wrong, Malfoy’s laughter being the most prominent sound.

You approached the Gryffindor team, wanting to make sure Harry was okay after the fall he took at the end of the game, though seeing Katie and Alicia hugging him assured you he would be fine.

“But we couldn’t find rhymes for fat and ugly - we wanted to sing about his mother, see. We couldn’t fit in useless loser either - for his father, you know-“ you heard Malfoy jeer.

“You’d know all about being a useless loser, wouldn’t you Malfoy?” You spoke out, arriving by George’s side as his arm automatically moved to slide around your waist, his head turning in Malfoy’s direction, jaw clenching as he realised what he was talking about.

“Leave it,” Angelina looked towards you and the twins, particularly Fred who had taken a step in Malfoy’s direction, “Leave it, Fred, let him yell, he’s just sore he lost, the jumped-up little-“

Malfoy smirked in yours and Harry’s direction, a nasty look on his face as he sneered, “But you like the Weasleys, don’t you Potter? And you, L/n.”

He spat out your surname with a grimace. You felt George trying to move and gripped his wrist, running your thumb softly over his skin. He swallowed, hands curling into fists as he glared at the blonde boy.

“Spend holidays there and everything, don’t you?” Malfoy continued, laughing with his usual sidekicks, enjoying the way he was winding you all up, “Can’t see how you stand the stink, but I suppose when you’ve been dragged up by muggles even the Weasley’s hovel smells okay-“

George suddenly lunged forward out of your reach, his name leaving your lips just as Harry caught his arm, pulling him back and holding onto him, trying to prevent him from pouncing on the blonde.

Angelina and Alicia were holding Fred back, helped by Katie who had a grip on his shirt and one of his shoulders, though he was still struggling to get away from them, pulling them forward as they dragged him back.

Malfoy laughed again, the sound piercing your ears and making you scowl, “Or perhaps you can remember what your mother’s house stank like, Potter, and Weasley’s pigsty reminds you of it. And don’t get me started on you, L/n. The fact you’d even allow a Weasley to touch you-“

“You git-“ you yelled, moving to grab your wand. But before you could even throw a hex at him, Hermione grabbed your waist, keeping you back as you realised Harry had let go of George, and they were both now on top of the blonde boy, having shoved him down into the mud, throwing punch after punch. You stopped struggling as much as you watched the scene unfold before you.

“Harry! Harry!! George!! No!”

The Gryffindor chasers yelled out their names, but couldn’t do much more as they were still holding Fred back, who was still trying to get to Malfoy.

You held your wand loosely but couldn’t bring yourself to use it, watching as your boyfriend’s fist collided with Malfoy’s nose, his muscles straining and abs prominent as his Quidditch shirt rode up, showing off his toned back as he threw more punches, easily blocking Malfoy’s weak attempts at fighting back. He was swearing at the Slytherin boy, angry growls escaping his lips and you felt your mouth drop a little.

Swallowing, you couldn’t pull your eyes away from the scene, George’s ginger locks sticking to his forehead with sweat, both from the previous game and from fighting, a snarl on his face as he continued his attack.

You’d never seen him like this, so aggressive, so in control of his actual movements yet not his emotions as he allowed his anger to fuel him, his eyebrows furrowed, clenched fists accentuating the veins in his lower arms as he landed punch after punch, before suddenly Madam Hooch was yelling out, and he was hit by a spell, one that paused his actions - or rather, slowed them down.

Harry jumped to his feet, as the Quidditch coach yelled out, “What do you think you’re doing?”

Malfoy lay on the floor, curled in a ball however you could see his nose was bloody. Fred was still struggling to escape the grasp of the chasers. And George, his lip was swollen and he was breathing heavily, but otherwise he seemed okay, for which you were thankful.

He pulled his shirt back into place angrily, a string of curses being muttered under his breath. His hands were still pulled into fists, his biceps clenching under the jersey, his jaw tensing, before he and Harry headed up to the castle without another word, practically marching away angrily towards McGonagall’s office, under Madam Hooch’s orders.

Fred pulled himself away from the chasers, though he was careful not to hurt them, and they hesitantly released their grips, ready to pull him back again if he attempted to finish what his twin and Harry had started. He scowled as he turned towards the changing rooms, grabbing his broom and heading off.

Hermione let go of your waist and you stomped after Fred, who was grumbling under his breath, and though he nodded at you in reassurance he was okay, you knew the twins and anger didn’t usually end too well.

***

No one seemed to want to celebrate Gryffindor’s win after the match. In fact, you were sat in the common room completely alone, waiting for your boyfriend (and Harry) to come back from being reprimanded by McGonagall. Fred had sullenly stomped to his room a while ago without a word, simply kicking the wall beside the stairs in anger as he passed by it.

Even Angelina - who you’d expected to have been happy by her first win as a new Captain - had retired to her own dorm room with a frown, along with Alicia and Katie.

The common room felt odd, being so quiet, but you appreciated the calm. That was, until the portrait door slammed open and two familiar - angry - faces stormed in.

You didn’t have chance to acknowledge Harry before George had pulled you up off the couch and, despite his split lip, he brought you into a rough kiss, one that made your toes curl and caused your greeting to become muffled, his hands gripping your hips as he pressed himself against you.

His tongue ran across your bottom lip, before pushing into your mouth, desperately kissing you as though it were the last thing he’d ever do. Your arms wrapped around his neck, pulling him closer.

You weren’t aware he’d started moving you until your back hit the stone wall beside the fireplace, his hand moving to grab your bum, travelling to the back of your thigh to lift it round his waist, his hips pressing against yours.

“Did you hear what he was fucking saying?” He mumbled against your lips, parting briefly to take a breath before kissing you again, “‘Bout my parents, and Harry’s Mum. And you- Merlin he’s lucky he didn’t say much more about you, he’d have had more than a broken nose, I’ll tell you that much.”

Your breathing was heavy, fanning across his lips as you replied, “Trust me, if he’d said much more, I’d have been right there with you breaking more than just his nose.”

He hummed, his mouth hovering over yours as his eyes grazed over your face, your leg still resting around his waist, your hands now gripping his shoulders.

“Are you okay?” You asked. Perhaps a redundant question, considering the events of the day, however as George briefly screwed his eyes shut before opening them again, you knew he understand what you meant - there was something else bothering him, and he knew you could tell.

“‘M fine, love,” he gave you a quick nod, before sighing at your pointed eyebrow raise, “Aside from being banned from Quidditch.”

You blinked, not expecting that answer, lips parting in surprise as his hand moved from your hip to your thigh, tracing random shapes on the skin showing, “Wait McGonagall banned you? She wouldn’t do that! She adores your team! They don’t stand a chance of winning without you!”

“Not her, the toad. Gave me, Freddie and Harry a lifelong ban. Can she even do that?” He swore aloud, his head dropping to your shoulder and you ran a hand through his ginger hair.

“Oh Georgie,” you breathed out, your heart almost breaking at the idea of him losing out on something he loved so much, “I’m sorry to say but you know as well as I do... she can pretty much do whatever she wants, sadly. She’s got the Ministry behind her. I’m so sorry.”

Your gaze moved to the back of your hand, where you knew there was light scarring from a previous detention with her, knowing that if she could get away with something like this, then she’d do it.

“‘S not your fault, is it? Should’ve controlled myself and not fought Malfoy. No matter how much the git bloody deserved it,” George curled his hands into fists as memories of the fight danced through his mind, a snarl setting across his features as he buried his face into your shoulder.

“He definitely deserved it. Least you got in a few good punches, eh? And if it wasn’t you, it would’ve been Fred. If it makes you feel any better though...” you trailed off, causing George to look up at you in anticipation of your next words, “I kinda maybe definitely thought that it was hot, the way you fought Malfoy. Just a little bit.”

He looked you up and down with a smirk, seemingly calming down at the revelation of this new information, “Me fighting is hot is it?”

“Oh Godric yes. You’re sexy when you’re angry anyway, but seeing you punching Malfoy?” You bit your lip and he let out a low groan, “Baby, that was attractive.”

George grinned cheekily, though a tad too wide causing his lip to split again, making him swear and dab at it with the collar of his shirt, reaching his other hand out to squeeze your thigh, “Well now I know that I might cause fights more often.”

You rolled your eyes playfully, watching as his tongue darted out across the cut, before leaning up to press your lips against his again. He kissed back immediately, almost as if he was waiting for you to do it, then began trailing kisses down your jaw, your eyes fluttering closed, before he pulled away suddenly, making you open them again, ready to protest.

“What is it about me fighting?” He asked, the corner of his mouth curling up, as if he was trying not to smile too smugly.

“Now you’re just begging for compliments,” you shook your head.

“Humour me. Humour me and I’ll go back to kissing you,” he countered.

You rolled your eyes, absent-mindedly moving to stroke his biceps through the Quidditch jersey he was still wearing, “Couldn’t tell you if I wanted to. Guess it’s your muscles...”

You pressed your lips together as your gaze caught his, “And how strong you are.”

“Strong?”

You hummed, fingertips dancing up his arms and towards his shoulders, “Oh yeah. You could hold my wrists above my head and I could struggle with everything I have and you’d keep me in place with ease.”

“That a hint?” His voice had dropped a few octaves as he brushed his lips against yours gently, grabbing both your wrists in one hand and pinning them against the wall above your head as you shot him a cheeky grin, gazing up at him.

“A challenge.”

His free hand was already moving under the material of your skirt, as he casually glanced over his shoulder towards the staircase to the dorm rooms, before pressing himself against you further, his lips hovering over yours once more,

“Oh yeah? Then challenge accepted, love.”

[holylulusworld]

Left Alone

Title: Left Alone

Square Filled for @spnabobingo​​​ (Round 6): Motor Oil/Cut Grass/Gunpowder

Ship: Alpha!Dean Winchester x Omega!Reader

Rating: Teen

Summary: You’re done waiting for your mate to find you.

Warnings: angst, sad reader, language, a/b/o, a/b/o dynamics, scenting, cuddling & snuggling, fluff, true mates

Word Count: 955

Divider by @firefly-graphics​​​​​​

You can smell him before he enters the room. His scent always was calming to you, but now – you can’t only growl low in your throat.

“Hey, sweetheart,” Dean pokes his head into your room, worriedly looking at you snuggle into your covers. “Sammy said you are back from your family trip. Uh-how was it?”

“Awesome,” you spat, not wanting Dean to know it was the worst thing ever happening to you. “Everyone was so nice to me.”

“Really?” he slowly walks into your room, always aware you are angry, no not angry, you are downright pissed at someone or something. “’cause you look angry.”

You sigh, hating his scent fills your senses once again. Dean has a gentle, yet spicy scent. Motor oil and gunpowder mixed with fresh-cut grass, that’s just Dean.

If you would be honest and admit you are hurt right now, the hunter would do anything in his powers to soothe you. But that’s something you can’t let him do anymore.

“Well, my cousin, the last unmated Omega in my family just had her first pup and found her true mate,” you sniffle. “Now I’m the loser in my family, the outsider who can’t find a mate, is all.”

“Sweetheart, don’t give up,” Dean tries to calm you, sensing you are close to shutting him out. “How about we watch a movie and eat something? I got a homemade burger and some pie.”

“No, and it’s none of your business if I give up. I’m going to become one of those loners, dying without a mark on their neck,” you roll to the other side of the bed to hide your face in the cushions.

“You’re a pretty and smart girl, warm and caring. You will find a nice alpha, Y/N,” he mumbles, stepping closer to your bed. “Believe me.”

“Says the expert in mating and sharing a bond,” you scoff. “Dean Winchester, eternal unmated Alpha, and heartbreaker. Just stop feeding me this shit, Dean. I’m just done hoping, and praying. There is no hope for me.”

“Y/N,” watching you crawl under your covers Dean sighs deeply. “You can’t just say something like that. There must be an alpha you want out there. Maybe it takes a little longer, but you will find him, sweetheart.”

“I found him two years ago and he rejected me,” you growl. “What did he say ‘we are friends and shouldn’t give in to our instinct’.” you imitate Dean’s voice.

“Sweetheart, it was for the best,” Dean whines when your scent turns sour. “Y/N, you need to calm. I know seeing someone else get mated and having pups is hard but-“

“What do you know, asshole!” you growl, throwing the lamp from your nightstand at Dean. “Did your true mate reject you too? Did your true mate refuse to let him scent you? I guess not.”

You curl in a ball, supersede anything but the burning pain in your chest out. 

Dean can’t fathom you took his rejection to your heart. He always believed you would find a better alpha, someone offering you more than a collection of plaids and bad taste in food.

“So—uh,” sitting on your bed Dean watches you scramble away, not wanting to scent the alpha. “What did your cousin get? A boy, a girl, or a golden duck?” you snicker, hating Dean made you laugh. “I mean, after what Sammy told me, your family treated the baby like it’s a saint or something.”

“A girl and she's got my cousin’s face – that’s a tough fate,” Dean snickers, but he frowns when you wipe a few tears off your cheek. “Must be nice having it all. A mate loving you, a baby, and your family being proud of you. I got nothing but a classic car, a scared body, and my guns.”

“You got that nice blade too, sweetheart. You know the one you used to decapitate the vamp last month,” he says.

“That was a machete Dean, not a sword.”

“See, you are smart too,” he tries, scooting closer to lie next to you. “Did you ever want pups? I mean, do you want to have some?”

“I need an alpha to give me pups, but there is no one standing in line to breed me, okay. Just drop it,” you sniff. “I don’t think a pup would like me.”

“Nah, they would be all over you, Y/N. I know you would make a great mom, especially if you are having my pups,” Dean purrs, rolling to his side to face you. “I mean, we should start with scenting.”

“I’m not in the mood for one of your jokes, Winchester. Just give me a few days,” you mutter. “Go and find someone else to waste your time on.”

“Spending my time with you could never be a waste, Y/N,” Dean reaches out for you to cup the back of your neck. He purrs before he dives in and buries his face in your neck, inhaling your scent deeply. “You smell so good, like warm cherry pie and dirty sex.”

“Dirty sex,” you laugh, press your hands weakly against Dean’s chest. “You smell like motor oil, gunpowder, and fresh-cut grass. Didn’t know if you know…”

“Sounds like a perfect mix, sweetheart. How about you bury that cute nose of yours in my neck and just inhale my scent. I got nothing better to do,” for now you give in, bury your face in Dean’s neck to inhales his scent.

You don’t know it’s the last time you will do it without a claiming mark on your neck.

And you don’t know only one year later you will carry his child under your heart and will never feel left alone again… 

Tags in reblog.

[songmingisthighs]

[19.06] mafia!hongjoong × reader

⇀ you were interested in hongjoong, a notorious leader of a very successful mafia organization. sadly he didn't see you that way. if only he knew the true you before making a rash judgement

⇁ tw : mafia life, angst, mentions of black market activities, death, violence, dark stuff. read at your own risk.

⇁ disclaimer : the author does not support any and all criminal/illegal acts. the narrative written in this story is purely fiction out of the author’s imagination. the things written here does not portray real mafia life nor is the author aware of how the mafia life is like. the author is a hermit loser.

The door to Hongjoong's office opened and in walked his right hand, with a teasing smirk on his face. Hongjoong looked up from the paperwork on his desk and looked up to the man with a raised eyebrow, "what are you smirking at?" he questioned.

Seonghwa nodded his head towards the door, "there's someone here for you," he said whilst holding onto his laughter. Hongjoong shifted his gaze from his friend to the door and then back to him again, "who?" "your girlfriend," Seonghwa teased.

Before Hongjoong could throw anything at him, though, Seonghwa had run off, laughing heartily.

Not long after, you came into his office with a wide smile. As per usual, you were dressed to impress, head to toe with a black and white vintage channel mini skirt and blazer, adorned with a channel necklace and earrings. As you walked in, Wooyoung, one of Hongjoong's trusted men, looked at your passing figure with mouth hanging low and a starstruck look on his face. But you didn't care, you only had eyes for Hongjoong.

It has been roughly five months since you started dropping into Hongjoong's office. Your dad, an equally highly successful head of the mafia from where you're from, wanted you to get married to expand his business and make more allies. He gave you several options but you were immediately intrigued by Hongjoong, one of the mafia heads he made a partnership with by providing him with weapons. The comprehensive file your dad gave you did Hongjoong no justice so you decided to get to know him for real.

Unluckily, Hongjoong is very secretive and protective of himself and his family (re: his brothers; his most trusted men in the mafia). He had been betrayed so many times before and his thirst for revenge both became his strength and downfall. While he managed to build a highly acclaimed mafia organization at such a young age, he closed off everyone who he deemed not worthy of his attention even after only seeing them for less than five minutes.

Sadly, that included you. You weren't the only one who got a comprehensive file on the other, he too had one of you. A straight-A student from Wharton with hobbies consisting of horseback riding and charity? He wondered whether you were preparing to take over your dad's mafia or to steal the Crown of England and be its ruler.

Hongjoong tried his best to hold in a groan of annoyance but even so, some still escaped him and you heard it. Though you were used to it so you just ignored him.

"Hi, Joong," you grinned widely at him, walking in and putting a medium-sized box of cake on his desk after closing his door. "Don't call me Joong," he grumbled.

In all honesty, your bubblegum personality sickened him. He knows for a fact that no one is that happy-go-lucky and excited and has rainbows shooting out of their asses 24/7. So there has to be something you were hiding from him.

You only chuckled at his response, "You're a sourpuss, you know that? You're gonna have wrinkles before you hit thirty if you keep frowning all the time like that," you said as you focused yourself on opening the cake box.

Inside it was the cake you made for him. All the times you visited him, you never made him something from scratch. You were trained to be the head of a mafia organization one day, not in the kitchen. So that cake was the very first thing you made and you were beyond proud of yourself.

"Look," Hongjoong exhaled sharply, starting to get annoyed even before you did anything, "You came at a bad time, I need to get a hundred thousand things done before tonight, in case you didn't realize, my organization is-" "in the brink of war with Stray Kids, I know, I've read the reports," you simply said, hands moving to cut the cake in front of you to hand to him.

"I have connections with the leader's soft spot, the foreigner one, I can make a deal that would help your case if you would jus-"

"NO!!!!" he yelled out, slamming his hands onto his desk, startling you so much that you accidentally dropped your knife and stepped back a little.

Maybe it was the stress of having to deal with things alone, or maybe it's just him finally snapping from overthinking about you, but one thing's for sure is that he had had enough. He needed to put you in your place.

"You may be your daddy's little princess back home, all dressed in white and pink and lace, showered with Channels, Tiffanys and your hoity-toity prestigious Wharton degree. But here, you're nothing, got me? You understood nothing about having to work your ass off to get the recognition and rewards you deserve, you had your daddy behind you this whole time and that's very convenient for you. But don't come here and act like you know shit, okay? Our worlds are different, you came from a cotton candy palace, I came from the ditch, your opinion means less than shit to me," he spat out so quickly, he didn't realize that your expression changed to something that he had never seen before.

Your eyes were blank and glazed, lips slightly quivering and chest heaving.

Hongjoong thought that he had really put you in your place and he was about to celebrate the fact that he might finally drove you away when you opened your mouth.

"Cotton candy palace? Not understanding having to work my ass off?" you choked out.

At first, Hongjoong thought you were gonna cry. But a sadistic, maniacal laugh resonated in the room from where you were doubled over, holding onto your stomach.

It was Hongjoong's turn to be stunned into silence.

"Oh my god, I thought you were smarter than that," you muttered as you calmed down, wiping tears from the corner of your eyes, "you think that this is who I am?" you asked with a raised eyebrow at him.

Hongjoong was confused about whether or not he should speak. It was the first time anyone had ever stunned Hongjoong and Hongjoong didn't know what to do.

"I was born from a girl who was en route to be sold in a human trafficking ring, I came out premature and was about to be sold to a satanic cult as their sacrifice but my 'dad' 'rescued' me. I was stored in a facility with thirty other children, we were trained to be assassins since before we could walk, brainwashed with ideals that ruined our brains. One by one, each year some of us were taken out if we show a lack of improvement or no promise," as you talked, you took off your earrings and necklace and put them on Hongjoong's desk.

While you ran a hand through your messy hair, you stared into him deeply, "I was seven when I first killed someone, my last competition. She was two years older than me and she was sold by her parents for coke money, or as the warden told us. We were reminded every day of how worthless we are so we wouldn't rebel and escape. But even in despair, I wanted something more. That's where daddy came in. He was impressed with me and he took me in as his daughter, telling people one of his whores were pregnant with me to assure my legitimacy. I was schooled in my own private red room. I had to fight for my right as a human being, I made deals with my dad to be able to go out with bodyguard escorts for only an hour every month,"

Hongjoong's eyes followed your hands that gripped onto the edge of your skirt, "did your little binder wrote that I went on my first official mission when I was just twelve? My dad cut the ballet lesson that I trade in for 120 hours of combat training short to gear me up, put me in a room of adult men and sent me off to plant an active bomb in 5 minutes in an air vent of the headquarters of his rival, crazy, right?" you chuckled humorlessly whilst ripping your skirt off to reveal your black shorts inside, a knife and a gun holstered on your thighs were revealed, making Hongjoond's eyes widened.

He never would have imagined someone like you to carry weapons under your very girly outfit. Or to even have such a traumatizing backstory.

"My whole appearance is compensation for my very dark upbringing, I wanted to hide it all. My dad told me I was stupid, that I belonged in the dark, dark world. But when I went to Wharton, I tried to change myself. I thought that I might be able to be the person I wanna be by marrying someone my dad approved so I don't have to take over wholly, I could just be the voice by the side, lending my skills and help the organization indirectly,"

You looked down at your heels clad feet for a second, letting your toes point and moving them from left to right to see what it looks like.

At this point, Hongjoong felt bad for having blown up at you. You had only wanted to spend time with him and even if he didn't want to see you, he could've said it nicely. Hongjoong never felt like this before, it was very weird for him.

He was about to walk over to you when you suddenly took your heels off in a flash and threw them both at Hongjoong so hard that it embedded deep into the wall on either side of his face.

Your usual smile was replaced with a frown, the eyes that usually twinkled showed nothing but darkness. He barely recognized you and he was on edge about it.

"You made your standing with me perfectly clear, Kim Hongjoong, while my dad is one to stop things before they become an issue, I like to see how things unravel," you smirked at him.

"What do you mean by that?" he asked, not being able to process anything.

"It means that your partnership with my dad is off, good luck finding a new weapons supplier," you spat out before turning around to leave the room, leaving traces of yourself behind at his office.

Hongjoong wanted to call after you, try to make things better somehow. But his head still couldn't even wrap around the shocking information you had just revealed.

Not long after you left, Yeosang came in but stopped at the door, scanning the room that was littered with remnants of you. "What the fuck happened here? Did a hooker tried to kill you!?" he asked, still confused at the situation.

When Yeosang looked up, he saw Hongjoong in a way he had never seen him before.

Nervous.

"I-I- I think I just forged a war between us and the largest mafia weapons manufacturer on the eastern hemisphere," he uttered out.