#but it was brutal when i saw it at the time

[jinxyjinxer]

˗ˏˋ MEAN ˎˊ˗ torturing you is their hobby

⟢ characters : Ambessa Medarda, Sevika

⟢ warnings : fem!reader, wlw, mean!dom!characters (seperate), implied fingering, implied squirting, mommy kink, use of vibrator, passing out, strap-on, usage of whore, degrading, choking, strap gets referred to as dick

˗ˏˋ AMBESSA MEDARDA ˎˊ˗

"You didn't really think I'd be done with you after you only came once, now did you?", she snickered when she saw you flinch and try to inch away from her calloused fingers after pounding them into your core once again after having made you cum on her digits for the first time of the night.

"Oh, baby girl, don't fight against it. The more you try to get away, the more I just enjoy all of this even more. Be my good girl and let mommy take care of you", she mused, but her words fell onto deaf ears. One orgasm alone had you overstimulated like a dozen would, so naturally you took her large wrist into your much smaller palm, trying to push her hand away from your sensitive mounds.

Even when she told you to stop squirming so much, you didn't even consider letting her have her way for even a second. Everything was too much, your body and sheets were already a mess soaked with your squirt and sweat, you didn't think you could take another orgasm again.

"That's it. You want me to be mean? Then I'll be mean", she suddenly snapped from your antics, lifting you up effortlessly with her immense strength and placing you across her lap as she sat down on the edge of the bed. With one hand she held both of your wrists behind your back while the other one grabbed for something in a box under the bed — a vibrator.

Needless to say that for the next the gods know how long you've been held in this position, your clit getting stimulated by the vibrating toy, crying and begging for her to have mercy on you until you finally passed out from exhaustion. "At least you're compliant now."

˗ˏˋ SEVIKA ˎˊ˗

"Please, no! I'm so sorry Sevi-!", you tried to apologise to your girlfriend when you found yourself getting dragged into your shared room, getting put onto all fours, hands and legs soon tied together so you couldn't move at all before felling her slam the biggest strap on she could find into your unprepared cunt, making you cry out in a mix of pleasure and pain.

"You should have thought about disrespecting me before begging for my forgiveness", she grunted as she dragged the silicone toy out of your cunt only to thrust it into you again with a brutal, almost inhuman force, her anger with you evident in her voice as well as her movements as she continued penetrating the life out of you.

"Sevika please this, Sevika please that", she mocked you, imitating your voice as she did so. "Just shut the fuck up and take your punishment like the fucking whore you are", she growled, and at the same time the tip of the toy hit your cervix brutally, making you scream her name for everyone in all of Zaun to hear.

One of her large hands loosened its grip to instead take a fist full of your hair between her fingers, pulling harshly on your scalp so you'd arch your back nicely for her to ravage you like an animal. Her other hand now found its way around your neck, at first only stroking your skin and making your breath hitch in anticipation before her fingers closed around your throat, restricting the air flowing into your lungs, your mind soon getting all foggy.

"You've got two options now. Either you pass out or you'll cream around this dick like the fucking whore you are. Only once you've come for me, I am willing to maybe forgive you", she whispered into your ear, the sensation of the strap penetrating your deepest insides and her hand choking you mixed with her voice in your ear making you come on the spot.

[maintitle]

Okay but this is actually an underlying theme that plays through Origins that I think is really clever and gets overlooked! Repeatedly in DA:O, the player is asked to confront the Warden's so-called neutrality. Alistair serves as the voice once Duncan is gone that the Wardens' don't become involved in politics, and you have no reason to question him for quite a while. You also really have no reason to question it when Alistair reveals his parentage, although if you're a Cousland that's likely when the first alarm bells go off. I'd also argue that's the case for Aeducan.

One of the most important additions to Origins to me is the Soldier's Peak DLC. It's cool we finally get a container for all our shit, and it's interesting as a possible cure for the Blight, but that's not at all what I mean.

The story of Soldier's Peak is not only the first time you're forced to confront the Wardens possibly being not all you were told they were, it's also a parallel for the possible consequences of your own decisions. Sophia Dryen wasn't just a noblewoman who joined the Wardens, she was a rival for the throne of Ferelden. We don't know all of the particulars, but what we do know is that Sophia lost the claim for the crown, but refused to relent, and was taken as a prisoner of war until she was offered a place within the Wardens. If this all rings as familiar, it's meant to.

What happened at Soldiers Peak was a political revolution. Sophia Dryden made a move on Arland. We've obviously been told that Arland was a tyrant, and considering we see a lot of the younger Wardens agree with that sentiment, it's probably true. But KNOWING this information is enough to make one raise an eyebrow, and ask if Sophia's decision was entirely noble. Was this her caring for the people of Ferelden? Or was it her making a move out of revenge to reclaim what she rightfully saw as hers, using Arland's cruelty as a weapon to do so? It's hard to say... but what is clear is that the decision to take someone of such royal import into the Wardens was what lead to the tragedy at Soldier's Peak, and also the banning of them from Ferelden.

Riordan is meant to be the vehicle through which you begin to see the Wardens as less heroic and a bit more opportunistic. He's more brutal, he is willing to do more to get things done the right way, he's willing to step over lines you wouldn't expect based off what you've heard of the Wardens, again through Alistair, who has idealized them, who also is in line to be King. And this man, who's rougher than the Wardens you've known, who says that Weisshaupt is too cold and brutal for his taste, and he didn't mean the environement. It's Riordan who suggests Loghain join you, who should've known this has happened once before... but there's a Blight, and the immediacy of the moment is too crucial. An issue the Wardens have always had.

It's not unlikely that Duncan knew who he was recruiting and why. Duncan was likely planning for the future. The evidence is there, and the culmination is likely not far from Duncan's own backup plans. At the end of the day... the Wardens will play whatever cards necessary to stay on good terms with nations and stop the Blight.

This is something Bioware does a lot, put the hero on the path to repeat history. DA:I is most obvious with it regarding Jaws Of Hakkon, Trespasser and the fate of the Inquisition itself, but Veilguard does it as well. I just wanted to chime in and mention that Origins does it as well, and that's sometimes a bit lost in the sauce.

the thing about the cousland origin, to me, that sometimes turns me off it completely and sometimes intrigues me, is that it says something completely different about who duncan is, what he wanted, and what the grey wardens are

[asiantransformations]

From KorKor to GongGong.

JunHao couldn’t believe how far he’d fallen. Once, he had everything—a loving girlfriend, a thriving business, and a body that turned heads everywhere he went. Now, all of that was gone. The debt he owed the Chinese mafia hadn’t just taken his money or his livelihood. They had taken him.

It all started years ago when his business began to crumble. Desperate to stay afloat, he’d taken a loan from the wrong people. Rumors of the Chinese mafia’s brutal, unorthodox debt collection methods had been whispered around town, but JunHao never imagined he’d become one of their victims.

At 35, JunHao had been the epitome of masculinity. Years of waking up at dawn to lift weights in his makeshift gym-esque courtyard had sculpted his body into a oriental masterpiece. His biceps, thick and powerful, could split the sleeves of any shirt. His abs, chiseled and defined, were a testament to his discipline. And his manhood—well, his girlfriend used to blush just thinking about it. JunHao was proud of his natural endowment, which had always made him feel invincible, as if he were destined for greatness.

But that was before. Now, at 70 years old and trapped in a frail, withered body, he was a shadow of his former self.

Determined to confront the man who had taken everything from him, JunHao arrived at Mr. Chen’s opulent mansion. The doors were opened by two towering young men, their muscles bulging against their tailored suits. Their chiseled jaws and cocky smiles hinted at their borrowed origins. JunHao knew these weren’t their real bodies—probably stolen from aspiring athletes or struggling gym rats who couldn’t pay their dues.

The guards dragged JunHao through the mansion’s marble hallways, past walls adorned with priceless artwork. The air was thick with the scent of testosterone and power. Finally, they arrived at the courtyard.

And there he was—JunHao's old body, lounging in a hot tub like a god.

Mr. Chen, now inhabiting JunHao's former body, looked like a vision of strength and virility. His light, sculpted chest glistened with water, the ridges of his abs catching the sunlight. He grabbed his growing cock and let out a sexy, alpha groan. A black necklace with the Chinese Mafia's logo now rested against his broad chest. He oozed confidence, his powerful legs stretched out lazily as if he owned the world.

When he saw JunHao, his lips curled into a smug smile. “JunHao!” he boomed, his voice deep and commanding—JunHao's voice. “Come to admire your handiwork?”

JunHao's heart twisted in his chest. Hearing his voice come from someone else, especially someone who was desecrating everything he’d worked for, was unbearable.

Mr. Chen stood, water cascading down his muscular frame. He flexed his biceps, their size seemingly even more pronounced than when JunHao had owned them. “This body,” Mr. Chen said, running his hands over his chest and abs, “is a masterpiece. A gift from you to me.”

He laughed, grabbing his stiffening crotch with an audacious smirk. “And this? This is a real treasure. Your little secret, huh? What they say about Chinese people, isn't true apparently. Don’t worry, I’m putting it to good use now. Let’s just say it’s… thriving in the right hands.”

JunHao's face burned with shame. He’d always been proud of his virility, his ability to satisfy his girlfriend and leave her breathless. Now, Mr. Chen was flaunting it like a trophy, using it in ways that made JunHao's stomach churn.

Mr. Chen stepped out of the hot tub, water dripping down his thick thighs. “You know, JunHao, I’ve never felt more alive. This body—it’s a machine. The stamina, the strength… And let’s not even get started on the bedroom. Let’s just say the boys can’t get enough.”

He flexed again, this time making a show of clenching his pecs. “I don’t know how you kept this gem hidden for so long. If I’d known what you were packing, I’d have taken it sooner.”

JunHao couldn’t take it anymore. He dropped to his knees, his frail body trembling. “Please,” he begged. “I want my body back. I’ll do anything.”

Mr. Chen chuckled, the sound rich and mocking. “Anything, you say?” He gestured for one of his guards to get him another bottle of beer. Taking a long sip, he let some spill down his chest, then wiped it off with a slow, deliberate motion. “You couldn’t handle this body anymore, old man. Look at you—pathetic.”

He stepped closer, towering over JunHao. “But I’ll tell you what,” he said, his voice low and menacing. “I’m feeling generous. I’ll give you a new body—not this one, of course. This beauty is staying right where it is. But I can get you something… better than the sack of bones you’re in now. A younger body. Maybe even a little attractive.”

JunHao's heart leapt. “You’d do that?”

“Sure,” Mr. Chen said with a grin taking of his sunglasses seductively. “On one condition.”

JunHao's hope faltered. “What condition?”

“You’ll become my personal servant,” Mr. Chen said, leaning in close. “Every day, you’ll oil this body, shave this chest, and make sure it looks its best. You will also be my own personal cum dump. You should know how virile I am now and my precious liquids aren't to be just spilled on the ground. You’ll clean my mansion, pour my drinks, and watch as I live the life you gave up. And maybe—maybe—I’ll consider giving you a slightly better body in return. A body that will please my sexual needs more.”

JunHao's stomach kept being churned. The thought of serving Mr. Chen, of watching him flaunt what was once his, let alone serving and pleasuring a body that was once his, was unbearable. Yet what choice did he have? To live the rest of his days as an old, broken man was equally unthinkable.

“So,” Mr. Chen said, flexing his biceps one more time for emphasis. “What’s it gonna be, JunHao? Serve me, or rot in that pathetic shell of yours?”

JunHao looked up at his former body, now radiating power and confidence, and felt his world closing in.

"Okay."

[yoru-exe]

PHAINON ࣪ ִֶָ ⋆ . promise in vain

back then, you didn't understand why seers should maintain a neutral position, absolutely avoid from directly contributing to battle planning, are forbiddened to form strong connects with their associates and use their gift for personal gain. how you wished you've taken your master's teaching more seriously as you gazed into the near future of the war's outcome. your heart crumbled like amphoreus destined to fall to ruin, helpless to the sight of the man who you've been war counseled to laying lifeless on the ground, the light in his eyes extinguished.

you broke all the rules a seer should abide to at any circumstances. now, it's time to pay the price.

phainon walked across the strategic meeting room, inspecting the last of the details before the battle begun. you stood silently by his side, watching in longingness your silhouettes that seemed to dance on the wall. no harm could come to them, at least before the light goes out.

"now that we have all the support that we requested for, we can ensure the safety of the people should the enemy decided to break in from the west wall. if this happen, then i trust you to-".

"can you not go?".

the question spilled out of your mouth before you could stop it. the silence that followed was deafening.

"i'm afraid i don't understand what you're trying to say".

when you spoke again, your glassy eyes met his, tear threatened to spill, "can you not go to the war?".

the two of you rarely had any physical contact for as long as you've been associated with each other. perhaps it was just the unspoken rules you set; i help you, you help me, nothing else. but the instant he saw your heartbroken face, a sight he's not used to, his body moved instinctly to hold you in his arm, as he caressed your cheeks, wiping the fallen tears away, "you know i have to. but we've planned for this. i'll be fine".

"but what if you don't survive this?"

a hint of doubt crossed his face, but it's gone as fast as it came, replaced with a determined expression that you know he practised a million times to lie to even himself, "i'll make sure i will and come home to you".

if your thoughts and emotion weren't in such a messy state, you would have been more appreciative towards his confession. instead, you burst with the fear that you could no longer surpress, "but i saw you-".

you didn't get to finish your sentence as phainon pressed his lips on yours, sealing away whatever fate of his that he's aware you're not supposed to reveal. it didn't matter.

it didn't matter that he live or not.

what mattered is he made sure you know he meant it when he said he'll come home to you.

he continued to hold you firmly in his embrace after he pulled away. his expression was one of sincerity and calmness, like a hero ready to sacrifise himself knowing that he know it was a sacrifice that worth making.

"just wait for me, okay?"

⊹₊ author's note ₊⊹

nameless faces left me in SHAMBLE i need to cope, therefore this piece was born yea i think phainon is up for one heck of a nasty fate you know how greek myths love giving their heroes brutal death or whatever. if the story ended up on a completely different route than what i thought it would, please dont at me sob

[highlady-of-prythian]

Enchanted by Starlight ── ( prologue )

SUMMARY - In a world rules by the hierarchy of Alpha's and Beta's, Avaryce is on the run - and run she does, right into the Night Court where a certain pack is in need of an Omega.

Warnings: This is my first ever story on Tumblr. Mentions of runaways and abuse, and this story includes A/B/O. Not gonna be good, so brace yourselves.

Pairings: Inner Circle x OC

---

With each step I took away from my old life, the weight of expectation and abuse suffered at the hands of those who were supposed to be my "pack" fell away, leaving only uncertainty and adrenaline in its wake. The stars blinked down on me like old companions, and I couldn't help but let out a small exhale. I was free.

I had been on the run, I suppose you could say, for the past few days. The journey long and perilous. In truth I had no idea where I was going, only that I needed to get as far away as possible from my old pack, or what was supposed to be a pack.

I sigh, slinging down my backpack ducking behind a tree. If anything this would be a good place to rest for the night. The forest had become a part of me now. It enveloped me like a mother would her child. It felt comfortable, right, in a way that was inexplainable.

I found a rock next to the stump of tree I decided to rest behind and took a seat. I grabbed the bag digging through what little bit I had. I started off with a few protein bars and water, only to now end up with half a bottle of water, and maybe a crumb or two of protein bars that would make a mouse scoff in distaste.

Seems I need to head to a town, tommorow. The thought alone made shivers run up my spine. I had been careful thus far not to run into anyone. After all, I was an Omega. One that was now packless, and alone. There's likely two things Alpha's or Beta's would do to me if spotted: take me back to my original pack, or try to mark me as their own. And we'll, neither option is viable in my opinion, especially if they're as brutal as my previous pack was to Omega's.

Since the beginning of well...forever, Alpha's were known to take an Omega and mark them as territory in packs. And since the pack I was in previously was strictly familial, I wasn't yet marked by any bonded packs as theirs. Which means I am now practically free game to any pack that wants me . . .Yay. Not.

I didn't even know which court I was near anymore. I didn't have a map or a sense of direction. I simply booked it in the middle of the night three days ago. The thought alone makes me groan in annoyance. I should have planned this better, but after a particular beating, I realized I couldn't take it anymore, that I sshouldn't.

I was not some animal to be treated so unfairly. I wouldn't sit and be caged and look pretty only to be sold off to a cruel pack to sit and bare faelings, or pups. And I wouldn't. If there was a pack that could look past me being an Omega and see me for me then I would finally think about a life settling down. But until then, I would remain packless, and alone.

My thoughts are interrupted by the growling of my stomach. "Shit." I mumbled, tiredly. I hadn't realized when I shut my eyes, or when the stars fading into nothingness above me.

---

The next morning I set back off on my journey. The winds bristled past me whipping through my strawberry blonde hair. The void in my stomach only grew, and grew. I would need to eat something soon before Ipassed out. I gulped. That's the last thing I need.

I set a faster pace forward, keeping the negative thoughts down. There wasn't time for that. It wasn't until I caught a wiff of a delectable pumpkin pie that I finally paused. The aroma of the dish made my mouth water, and oh? The scent of whipped cream filled my senses.

I was nearing a clearing, and when I finally pulled back the last bit of brush in my way, I saw it. The Night Court. Or, well, Velaris: the City of Starlight. By legs didn't care as they led me down a steep hill towards that magnificent city. Its been years since they opened the border to outsiders. It won't be a suprise to see a new face, luckily.

I saw people walking, and talking with each other, the people seemed, peaceful. Much unlike what I saw growing up. The city felt alive and refreshing. As I walked past many streets and shops, onlookers seemed to pause and look at me. Not surprising: I probably look like a mad woman looking for this pie. But I couldn't care.

Not as the scent grew nearer and nearer, until there it was. A pie, sitting on the edge of a window sill. Steam wafted off of the pastry, and my mouthed opened slightly at the sight. In front of me was a building to a art studio where I could hear the laughter and voices of children inside. No one would notice a tiny bite being gone, right? I got closer to the pie, already tasting the deliciousness when the door to the studio opens.

My eyes widen as I run to the side of the building which just so happens to be an alleyway. Praying that no one had seen me. My scent was blocked off with scentblockers, so they couldn't tell that an Omega was near. "Huh, I swear I could have heard something." A sweet melodic voice mumbles.

"Probably a stray squirrel, Fey, nothing to fear. " A soft, sweet, voice says. "Oh! I almost forgot! The pie!" I ducked further into the alley before the voice drew to close. "Can't have the kids getting to hungry, right?"

"They'll love it, Elain." The voice, "Fey" states.

"You think?" The Elain girl questions.

"I know it!" Fey exclaims. "It's so sweet that you baked it for them, they must be starving." The sympathy in her voice makes me wanna gag at the thought that I was going to eat these kids' pie. "Come on."

When the door shuts, I lean on the building with a sigh. I need to be more careful. With scentblockers I will be fine for a while, but running up to the studio and acting like a deranged female was not a part of the plan.

And now the pie is gone.

A rack of guilt flowed through me. A pie that was meant for children. A gnawed on my fist and sighed. It didn't matter. I didn't get it, anyway. No harm done, right? Wrong. Suddenly, something sharp pointed at my ribs, and I stiffen. Oh, no. I'd been caught. And now I was going back to my old pack. My face paled. I can't go back. "Turn around." A sturdy male voice said. The voice sent shivers down my spine.

He voice was like a symphony of shadows. Dark and controlled. Alluring and hypnotizing. Deep and tempting. I mentally curse. Now isn't the time to get hormonal. I obliged the mystery man, taking my time to face the man with the blade. And when I do - when I see those delectable dark eyes, and the shadows that erupted from every which way from around him, it is only then that I realize how much shit I'm in. Maybe even more so than I was before I left in the first place.

[itsoutrageouss]

pt.1 pt.2 pt.3

Part four of Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley seeing you cry for the first time, due to demand which I am (so) grateful for. Simon’s accidentally a little mean at the wrong time lol- readers on her period.

It’s the second time Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley sees you cry that he looses himself into some kind of caretaker instinct.

The last time it had happened, it was after a brutal mission where he’d found you as a crying heap on the floor. So naturally his heart started pounding painfully in his chest when he creaked the door open to your room and saw you curled in bed, sniffling softly.

Once again the vulnerability you showed seemed to hurl him away like a storm. It was such a precious, private side of you and he wanted to go on his knees for you in thanks for allowing him to see it.

He’s by your side with three stalking striders, crouching down next to the bed. His hand hovers over your waist, then your shoulder, then your face because he doesn’t know if he can, or even where he should touch you right now, your shoulders shaking as your head nuzzles into your tear stained pillow.

“Hey. Stop.” He says, voice almost holding a small tremble, laced with panic because as much as he adored this side of you, he wanted you to smile again. Please?

You didn’t respond, only curled further away like an uninterested cat. He frowns and then grabs your neck, gently turning it until you meet his gaze. He wants to gasp at how pretty you look with glistening, red cheeks and glossy eyes, lashes sticking together as you pout at him.

“What is it lovie?” The nickname slips before he knows how to stop it and he winces internally, tensing. But it seems to coax you to nuzzle your face into his hand instead, and he keeps it completely still, scared that a single movement would scare you away. He feels your cold cheek press into his palm, itching to curl his fingers into the soft skin.

“Nothing” you whine.

He huffs. Jesus Christ.

“Nothing, yeah? That’ why you’re crying like a baby?” He smiles, eyes crinkling behind the mask but yours have closed and he sees your face contort into more sadness, more crying and his eyes go wide, immediately holding you a little tighter.

“No! No, shit, sweet’eart it was a joke” he says quickly, voice urgent. You usually took all his teasing with great stride or an even better comeback, but seeing you cry even more because of him made a strange knot form in his throat that he couldn’t seem to swallow down.

You demonstratively turn your back to him on the bed. It was actually insane to him, seeing you like this. You were always sharp, focused, witty; slapping Johnny and Simon on the arm when they start bantering too much on the way to a mission.

He was sort of addicted to it, he thought, as even your back turning made something warm flutter in his stomach as he reached for your shoulder, entire hand able to envelop it and tug gently.

“M’ sorry? M’ sorry just… talk to me.” Silence ensues.

“Please.” The word falls unnaturally from his lips.

It seems to be the keyword because your head turns painfully slow until you blink up at him, now with a slight scowl.

“It hurts” you whisper, bottom lip jutting out. He immediately pulls your cover down to your thigh to start looking you over for injuries but your cold hands tug his wrist and puts his palms over your lower stomach. He blinks.

“You pregnant?” He blurts.

Your eyes widen and he swears he sees a hint of a smile and triumph floods his system. “No you idiot! I’m on my period. Cramps!” You say with a shake of your head, eyes closing for a beat.

He was a bloody idiot to be fair. A lot of things from today seemed to click for him when you said that, and his shoulders relax, head tilting as his eyes narrow, framed by the black mask. His hands on your stomach fan out, thumbs stroking the skin under your shirt. He feels your muscles tighten at his touch.

“Sensitive?” He muses.

“Shut it” you mumble, looking away and trying not to let the enjoyment of his touch show too much, but your eyes flutter closed and he could practically hear you purring. But he doesn’t say anything, once again afraid he’ll ruin this little bubble that you’ve let him be a part of, for reasons he doesn’t understand.

After long minutes of comfortable silence, his hands running over the expanse of your stomach, caressing and massaging softly, he sees your lips part in soft breaths. Slowly and lingering, his hands retreat so he doesn’t do anything stupid. But you whine, immediately noticing the lack of his touch, even in your half asleep state, grabbing for him. His jaw flexes as he tried not to smile.

“M’ gonna run you a bath, lovie. I’ll be right back.” He promised, suddenly turning into some kind of caretaker role he never thought he wanted to be. Until you came along and now he finds himself wanting to do all kinds of things for you, after seeing how you reacted to his touch. The scrunch of your brows when he tells you he’ll run you a bath gives him a high he can ride for days.

He’s just trying to repay how sweetly you bandaged his hands weeks ago. To repay how you played along to his little story at the last mission about how you and him had met.

Trying to repay these insatiable and foreign feelings you brought forth in him, so you wouldn’t take them away. Ever.

Now maybe he just had to actually tell you about them? No. No way. The thought was forced from his mind immediately.

[fioredeciliego]

Chapter 14

The dim, cold atmosphere of the sublevel stretches endlessly, the concrete walls seeming to close in around them as Minjeong stares down Jimin and Y/N. Her gun, aimed unwaveringly at Jimin, is her one anchor to the twisted reality she's committed herself to. Despite the anger in her glare, her hands betray her, trembling with a deep-rooted doubt. She clenches the grip tighter, forcing herself to stay steady, though the uncertainty stirs within her like a storm threatening to break.

Behind her hardened expression, her mind spins wildly, replaying Seulgi's words over and over. Seulgi, who'd been the only one to see her pain, had promised her everything she thought she wanted. "They don't care about you, Minjeong," Seulgi's voice echoes through her mind like a poison she can't shake. "They never did. But you don't need them—you don't need anyone but yourself. If Jimin is out of the way, you'll have Y/N. She's always cared for you, hasn't she?"

Minjeong's eyes flick briefly to Y/N, just long enough to catch the hurt in her expression, and the sight tugs painfully at her heart. She remembers Y/N's warmth, the way she always seemed to understand her without words, even when everyone else saw only her tough exterior. But it doesn't matter anymore, she tells herself, forcing down the doubt rising inside her. She has to do this. She's made her choice.

That's when Irene, a calm but commanding presence, steps forward, her voice steady yet gentle. "Minjeong, look at me," Irene says, her gaze softening. "I know you're hurting. I know things haven't been easy, and that you feel used... but we're here for you. I'm here for you. Everything we've been through—every sacrifice we've made—it was for all of us. For you, too."

The words, laced with empathy and regret, pierce through Minjeong's defenses. Irene's expression, so open and understanding, reminds her of the camaraderie they once shared. The long nights spent planning together, the laughter they shared, the times Irene had pulled her back from the brink. It had meant something once. But Irene's words also dig into old wounds, wounds she's tried to bury. She bites back the pang of nostalgia, her expression hardening as Seulgi's voice invades her mind again, urging her to stay strong.

With a bitter laugh, Minjeong shakes her head. "You're saying that now, but where was that loyalty when I needed it, huh? Where was it when you treated me like a weapon, like a disposable tool?" Her voice is cold, laced with resentment. "I was never more than what you needed me to be. Just the person who would get things done. And you'd all just leave me behind when it suited you." Every word is an echo of Seulgi's twisted influence, and it lands with brutal precision, making Irene visibly falter.

The look of pain that flickers across Irene's face stuns Yizhuo and Aeri, who exchange glances of realization. They knew Seulgi's manipulation had reached Minjeong, but they hadn't realized just how deep it had sunk.

Then Jimin speaks, her voice a stark contrast to Minjeong's bitterness. There's a gentleness in her tone, a raw honesty that slices through the room's tension like a knife. "Minjeong, listen to yourself. This isn't you. You know it's not." Her eyes search Minjeong's face, desperately seeking the friend she once knew beneath the anger. "We've fought side by side, Minjeong. We've faced things most people would run from. And every time, you were there, no matter what."

Jimin's words carry a weight of memories—every mission, every close call, every moment where they had each other's backs without a second thought. "I remember the Minjeong who never wavered, who would protect all of us. Not the one standing here, aiming a gun at her own team." Her voice softens, her eyes imploring. "Whatever Seulgi told you, whatever lies she's filled your head with—it's not worth this. She's using you, Minjeong. She doesn't care about you. She's just making you believe she does."

Y/N steps forward, her voice trembling, but her words sincere. "Minjeong, I know you're hurting. And I know things have been unfair. But this path won't make it better. Hurting us won't make it better." Her voice wavers, her emotions raw, but she pushes through, hoping her words can reach whatever part of Minjeong still remembers their bond. "We're your family, Minjeong. Even now... we still care about you. Please, don't do this."

For a moment, Minjeong's fierce expression falters, her eyes flickering with vulnerability. Y/N's voice is like an anchor, grounding her, pulling her back to a reality she's tried to escape. Her hand slackens slightly, the barrel of the gun dipping as her resolve wavers. She wants to believe them, wants to believe there's a way back, a way where she isn't trapped in this twisted game Seulgi has drawn her into.

But as she considers their words, the memory of Seulgi's voice cuts through her hesitation. "They're liars, Minjeong," Seulgi had whispered, her tone full of venom and seductive promise. "They never saw you as anything but a tool. If you want freedom, if you want a life where Y/N is yours, you know what has to be done." The words wrap around her mind like chains, rekindling the anger she's tried so hard to suppress. She straightens, the fire of betrayal and hurt filling her eyes once more, and her grip on the gun tightens as she recalls every hurtful moment, every time she'd felt overlooked and undervalued.

In a heartbeat, Minjeong's expression hardens, her eyes cold and unreadable as she raises the gun. Her breathing quickens, her heart hammering in her chest. She meets Jimin's gaze one last time, something unreadable flickering in her eyes before she steels herself, pressing down on every other feeling clawing at her heart.

The shot rings out, sharp and deafening in the enclosed space. The bullet grazes Jimin's arm, embedding itself in the wall just inches behind her. For a moment, the world feels suspended, every breath drawn heavy and laden with tension. Y/N's hand flies to her mouth, a soft gasp escaping her lips as she stares at Minjeong, heartbreak and fear reflected in her eyes. Irene's expression shifts from shock to a grim understanding, the weight of Minjeong's decision settling over her like a dark shadow.

Aeri and Yizhuo stand frozen, their faces a mixture of horror and disbelief. They can see it now—the line that Minjeong has crossed, the line that may never be undone. The consequences of her choice, the rift she's created between them, settle into the silence that follows the shot.

Minjeong looks down at her own hands, as if suddenly aware of what she's done, her shoulders sagging under the weight of it. The conflict is still there, lingering, but it's swallowed by a numbness, a hollow realization that she has gone too far. She glances at Y/N, something akin to regret flickering in her gaze, but the walls she's built are too strong, her pride and pain holding her in place.

The silence is heavy, stretching endlessly, with no words left to bridge the divide that's grown between them. And for the first time, Minjeong seems lost, as if the reality of her actions is only just beginning to sink in, the enormity of what she's done pressing down on her until she feels as if she's drowning in it.

--

The silence following Minjeong's shot is thick, laden with fear and sorrow, as Irene steps forward, her steps slow and calculated. Her expression is composed but shadows of guilt and pain flicker in her eyes. She raises her hands slightly, showing Minjeong she's unarmed, but her gaze never wavers from the trembling weapon in Minjeong's grasp.

"Minjeong," Irene begins, her voice steady yet edged with a rare vulnerability. "You don't have to do this. You're not alone. We've all felt lost, pushed aside... unseen. And if I made you feel like you didn't belong—if I failed you—then I'm sorry." The apology is quiet but holds a gravity that none of them had heard from Irene before.

Her words hang heavily, casting a new, raw tension over the room. Irene, the leader who never falters, now bearing her own failings for all to see. A silent plea glimmers in her eyes, as if begging Minjeong to find her way back, to turn away from the edge she's teetering on.

But Minjeong's expression hardens, her eyes flashing with something wild, unhinged. A twisted smile crawls across her face, both mocking and resentful, and she lets out a short, bitter laugh. "An apology?" she sneers, her voice shrill and unsteady. "You think that's enough to make up for years of being nothing more than your weapon on standby?"

She raises the gun slightly, her aim unsteady yet determined. "You only ever needed me for what I could do. You made me your disposable shield, Irene! All of you did! Every one of you saw me as just a tool, just your little soldier willing to do the dirty work and follow orders. But did any of you ever think about what I wanted? What I needed?" Her voice cracks, then rises again, an unrestrained wave of pain mixed with fury.

Her eyes dart from Jimin to Y/N and then back to Irene, as though she's sizing up every betrayal she's felt, every slight, whether real or imagined. Her grip on the gun tightens, but her hands are visibly shaking now. "You never understood me! You never tried to!" she shouts, her voice growing more manic, the resentment twisting her features as though she's struggling to hold herself together.

She takes a deep breath, her face twisted in a mix of anguish and something more desperate. "Seulgi... she was the only one who ever really saw me," Minjeong spits out, her voice lowering to a near whisper as if the name itself is sacred. "She listened to me, she understood me, and she promised me that if I took control—if I did what had to be done—I could finally have the life I deserve. A life where I don't have to beg for scraps of attention or watch the person I love with someone else."

She glances at Y/N, her expression softening into something almost fragile. The look in her eyes is full of a raw, obsessive intensity, a disturbing kind of love that borders on worship. "Y/N," she whispers, her voice taking on a pleading edge, "I've loved you... I've loved you for so long. But you never saw me, did you? You never looked at me the way you look at her." Her voice becomes choked, each word weighted with bitterness and longing.

"But Seulgi—she told me that all I had to do was remove Jimin from the picture, and you'd finally be mine. She made me see what I deserve. She showed me that I don't have to live in the shadows anymore. I don't have to keep pretending to be happy just watching you love someone else." Her voice is almost a whimper, as if she's both pleading and demanding that her twisted desires be acknowledged.

She laughs again, high-pitched and manic, a sound that fills the room with an unsettling chill. "I was always second place to her, always second best. But Seulgi—she promised me you, Y/N. She promised that if I took control, if I claimed what's mine, then you'd finally see me." Her expression twists into something dark, her eyes wide and almost feverish as she holds Y/N's gaze.

"Do you have any idea how it feels?" she hisses, voice shaking with both fury and despair. "To love someone so deeply, to watch them smile and laugh with someone else, knowing they'll never even think of you the same way? To be used, discarded, like I never mattered to any of you?" Her face contorts, the desperation seeping through her words as she struggles to maintain her composure, her emotions spiraling out of control.

Minjeong's tone shifts, filled with a reverence for Seulgi that borders on worship. "Seulgi was the only one who showed me the truth. She told me that Jimin was the reason I was kept down, that you were all too blinded by her to see what I could be. She offered me freedom, Y/N. She promised that if I got rid of Jimin, if I took control, we could finally have what I wanted, what I deserve."

As she speaks, her grip on the gun tightens, her gaze turning colder. Yizhuo and Aeri exchange horrified looks, each of them realizing just how deep Seulgi's manipulations run. Irene's face pales, the weight of her own past decisions bearing down on her, and Jimin, unflinching, remains focused on Minjeong, her jaw clenched in silent fury.

But Minjeong doesn't seem to notice their reactions. She's caught up in her own desperate need to justify herself, her gaze now feverish, unfocused, and lost in a storm of obsession and betrayal. "Seulgi showed me a world where I'm not a tool, where I'm not second to Jimin, where Y/N can finally love me the way I've loved her. And for the first time, I felt... seen."

A moment of silence stretches painfully across the room as Minjeong's manic declaration settles into the air, her confession a testament to how deeply Seulgi has twisted her thoughts. But even now, she clings to that image of a future Seulgi promised, a vision that has corrupted her heart beyond repair.

--

Minjeong's bitter words echoing off the cold walls. Aeri and Yizhuo look at her with desperation written across their faces, a mix of sorrow, horror, and fierce determination to save her from herself. Aeri's voice breaks as she calls out, "Minjeong... you're still our friend, still part of us. This doesn't have to be how it ends. We can get past this, together."

She takes a tentative step forward, her arm outstretched in a gesture that's both hesitant and hopeful. "Remember all we've been through, Minjeong. The nights we fought side by side, the dreams we shared... don't let Seulgi's lies take that from you."

Yizhuo's hands shake as she clutches her chest, her eyes brimming with tears that spill over, unrestrained. She pleads, her voice barely holding together, "You're still the girl who saved me once, who taught me to fight, to believe in myself... You're still our friend, Minjeong. You're still my friend." There's a depth of sorrow in her words, as if she's willing her friend to remember, to come back from the edge.

But Minjeong's face doesn't waver, her lips pressing into a thin line as her grip on the gun tightens. Her shoulders tremble as she fights the whirlwind of emotions churning inside her, her expression slipping between sorrow and unyielding resolve. "No," she mutters, her voice filled with a quiet but fierce determination. "You don't understand. I can't go back to just being a ghost in the background, to being overlooked."

Her gaze flickers between Aeri, Yizhuo, and Jimin, each face a reminder of the camaraderie they shared, the bond they once had—but the darkness in her eyes doesn't waver. "You all had each other... all I had was Seulgi. She made me feel like I was worth something, like I could be... enough."

A moment of raw vulnerability flashes in her gaze, as though she's pleading for them to see her pain, her fractured sense of self. But then, in a heartbeat, her expression hardens again, and she lifts the gun, her eyes blazing with a final, tragic defiance. "I'd rather die fighting than go back to being nothing," she says, her voice wavering but resolute.

Jimin's hand moves instinctively, the sound of the shot tearing through the tense air. Minjeong's body jolts, her hand instinctively pressing to her side where the bullet struck. She stumbles, eyes widening in shock as she looks down, fingers stained with the crimson that spreads through her clothes.

As she sinks to the cold floor, her breaths come in shallow, stuttering gasps. Her defiant mask crumbles, and for the first time, she looks so heartbreakingly vulnerable, stripped of all her bitterness and fury. Jimin's gun slips from her trembling hand as she drops to her knees beside Minjeong, her face a picture of anguish and remorse. She cradles Minjeong's head in her lap, her tears finally spilling over as she whispers, "I'm so sorry, Minjeong... I never wanted this. None of us did."

Minjeong's gaze softens, and she shifts her attention to Y/N, who kneels beside her, holding her hand tightly, trying to give her warmth, trying to keep her tethered to the world. Minjeong's eyes are heavy with regret, but there's also a painful kind of relief, as though the weight of all her anger is slipping away, leaving only the core of her true self.

"Y/N..." she whispers, her voice weak and trembling, but filled with a deep, heartbreaking longing. "I tried so hard... I just wanted you to see me. To... notice me the way you did her."

She gasps for breath, wincing at the pain, but forces herself to continue, her words tumbling out, desperate and raw. "I know I've done horrible things... but I loved you. I thought if I could just... if I could just make you see..." Her eyes well with unshed tears, and she looks at Y/N with a vulnerability that's both achingly familiar and tragically too late.

Y/N chokes back a sob, clutching Minjeong's hand as tightly as she can, trying to anchor her, to give her any small comfort in these final moments. "I'm so sorry, Minjeong," she whispers, her voice breaking. "I should have seen you, I should have been there for you..."

Minjeong's expression softens, and a faint, bittersweet smile appears on her lips. "Maybe... in another life," she breathes, her voice a mere whisper, "I would've been someone you could love."

Her gaze shifts back to Jimin, who holds her close, her face twisted with the pain of losing someone who was once her friend, her sister in arms. Jimin's tears fall freely, and she clutches Minjeong's hand, her voice raw as she murmurs, "I'm sorry, Minjeong. I... I never knew you felt this way."

A flicker of pain crosses Minjeong's face, but there's a strange sense of peace as well, a release from the anguish and resentment that had consumed her. "I just wanted... to belong," she whispers, her voice fading. "I just wanted... to matter."

Her breathing grows shallow, her grip on Y/N's hand slackening as she looks up at the faces surrounding her. A solitary tear slips down her cheek as she whispers her last words, barely audible. "Thank you... for being with me. Even... like this."

Her eyes close, her body going limp in Jimin's arms, the life fading from her features as she slips away, leaving behind an emptiness that seems to permeate the entire room. Y/N, Aeri, Yizhuo, and Jimin are left kneeling around her, the heavy silence pressing down on them as they come to terms with the loss of their friend, the devastation of what could have been.

The air is thick with grief, the weight of missed chances and unspoken words suffocating them. Jimin clutches Minjeong's hand one last time, her tears falling freely as she whispers, "Goodbye, Minjeong," her voice filled with the sorrow of a friend lost to the shadows of their own heart.

----------------------------------

The silence in the sublevels of the bank is deafening. The team stands in a solemn circle around Minjeong's still form, her face finally free from pain but shadowed with the tragic remnants of her final struggle. Y/N kneels beside her, her hand lingering over Minjeong's, as if she could somehow bring her back with a simple touch. Guilt presses down on her chest, her shoulders shaking with the weight of unsaid words, of a friend lost in the shadows she never realized were there.

Jimin watches Y/N in silent agony, her eyes glazed with sorrow and regret, her own heart shattering under the knowledge that it was her shot that ended Minjeong's life. She takes a deep, trembling breath, knowing there is one last act of respect she can give to the girl who was once her closest ally, her sister in arms. Without a word, she crouches down, gently slipping her arms beneath Minjeong and lifting her with a care that belies the brutality of the fight they had just been part of. She cradles Minjeong's body, determination flickering in her tear-streaked eyes—a silent promise that Minjeong will not be left behind, not even in death.

Irene steps closer, her expression a mixture of sorrow and responsibility. As she gazes down at Minjeong, her mind reels with the knowledge that her leadership—her choices—played a part in the tragic end they now witness. She tries to offer words, but none come. Instead, she places a gentle hand on Minjeong's shoulder, silently acknowledging the life lost under her command, the friend who had slipped through her fingers.

Yizhuo and Aeri exchange a look, both of them struggling to process the pain in their chests. Yizhuo wipes away a tear as Aeri wraps an arm around her shoulders, grounding them both in the promise that they won't forget Minjeong, that they won't let her memory fade into nothing.

Y/N's hand brush against Minjeong's lifeless fingers. Emotions war within her—pain, guilt, and a profound ache for a friendship fractured beyond repair. Aeri places a gentle hand on Y/N's shoulder, urging her to rise. "We can't stay," she says softly, though her voice trembles. "We owe her...we owe each other the chance to get out of this alive. For Minjeong."

The air is thick with sorrow, but time is slipping away. Aeri's voice, barely a whisper, breaks through the silence. "We need to go... reinforcements will be here soon." Her tone is steady, yet the strain of grief weaves through every syllable. She knows they cannot afford to linger, not with Seulgi's eyes everywhere and the sound of approaching footsteps echoing faintly from above.

Yizhuo looks down at Minjeong's lifeless face, her heart aching. She whispers, "We'll get out of here... and we'll do it for her." Though her voice trembles, there's a fierce determination beneath her words, a raw promise fueled by the grief and anger surging through her veins. She meets Irene's gaze, her eyes red-rimmed but unwavering. There's no room for doubt now—only the resolution that they will make it out together, that Minjeong's sacrifice won't become a forgotten casualty of Seulgi's schemes.

Jimin adjusts Minjeong's body in her arms, feeling the weight not only physically but emotionally, a weight that she now carries alone. "We give her a proper burial. She deserves at least that much," she whispers, her voice breaking yet filled with an unshakable reverence. The others nod, each of them sharing in that silent promise—a promise to honor their fallen friend by seeing this mission through, even if the cost is high.

Each step out of the sublevels feels heavier than the last, yet with every painful stride, their resolve only grows stronger. They know this journey will not end with Minjeong. It is a vow made in the shadow of her loss, an oath they make to her memory: they will survive this, and they will not allow Seulgi's cruelty to shatter them again.

--

As they finally emerge from the hidden depths of the bank, slipping into the cover of the darkened streets, a figure lingers in the shadows at a distance, hidden in the cold quiet of the night. Seulgi watches them with an unreadable expression, her face bathed in the soft glow of a streetlamp. Her lips twist into a smile, one as bitter as it is triumphant. Her eyes remain fixed on the team, noting their grief-stricken faces, their silent determination, and the way Jimin carefully cradles Minjeong's body in her arms. It's a sight that should evoke sadness, yet for Seulgi, it's nothing more than a twisted satisfaction.

For Seulgi, Minjeong's death is merely a calculated loss—a piece removed from the board. Her satisfaction isn't in the death itself but in the anguish it has caused, in the fractures it has forced into their unity. To her, every tear, every expression of grief is a reminder of the control she wielded over Minjeong, a puppet who danced to her tune, even in her final moments. Already, she's moving on to her next plan, her mind weaving new threads of deception. Minjeong's death was simply one move in a grander game—a step closer to breaking the fragile bonds of trust that hold the team together.

Her gaze follows them as they disappear into the night, her thoughts racing with cruel intent. She knows they'll regroup, that they'll cling to one another to find strength in their loss. But Seulgi's smile only widens, her gaze distant and calculating.

--

Once they reach safety, the group pauses to catch their breath, each of them haunted by the events of the night. Jimin is quiet, but determination now blazes in her eyes. She feels the weight of everything Minjeong's betrayal has cost them, yet also the strength it has imparted. Beside her, Irene, Aeri, and Yizhuo share her resolve, each of them carrying their own pain but united in one purpose.

Y/N clenches her fists, her gaze hardening as she looks at her friends. They know Seulgi won't stop here, that this is only the beginning of a more ruthless fight. But tonight, they make a silent promise—to each other, to Minjeong's memory, and to the mission they still need to complete.

[causeimcrayzeebee]

have you seen the kamimura lore drop and what are your thoughts?

ohbmy god this could’ve been so embarrassing cause i hadn’t seen it yet and was so confused as to what you meant so I was planning on just yapping about kamimura in general but then I saw it LMAO UM I WAS SO HAPPY CAUSE KAMIMURA CONTENT!!!!! KAMIMURA LORE!!! AND THEN SO FUCKING INCREDIBLY SAD FROM IT LIKE....THAT'S GORE... THAT'S GORE OF MY COMFORT CHARACTER.... um yeah I have work for law to do but I got too into reading the lore drop so lets talk about it! (I will get to my work after trust) spoiler warning for chapters 1-3 and tetro typical trigger warnings!!! take care of yourself!!

I am not going to cover the ableism portion or too much of the diagnosis/hospital parts because I am not personally disabled and would like to let other disabled people talk about it, so i'll leave the rest of the conversation to others in the community!

also i took notes while reading it to organize my thoughts like usual (im so bad at putting words together well). some of these are kinda funny so here are some highlights lmfao

alright, now lets actually be serious.

firstly, I'm so glad that kamimura at least had a good childhood. I think it really shows in the way he interacts with the tetro pink cast that he was a sociable and happy kid! my mom actually teaches preschool so shes taught me a lot about early childhood psychology (shout out to my mother guys!!!!!). one of the biggest takeaways I've had from her is that the first five years of one's life are the most important in development! that's what Montessori programs keep in mind and throughout preschool and early kinder, they take time to establish learning through play; a lot of people have the misconception that letting kids play at school is just letting them mess around, but it's crucial in building their skills! kids learn to socialize with others and to problem solve; that foundation is very important for everything else moving forward in life! I could rant about how preschools need to utilize this more, esp in the American education system, but I digress. my main point goes to something I (and a couple other people I'm not original in this LMAO) have mentioned before about how it makes more sense out of hasegawa and kamimura, that they'd kill off kamimura because he had other people. kamimura, despite having further and further cut himself off from the world right till the end (until the kg at least), still managed to make meaningful connections, like tamba and hayashi, even if they weren't like ideal. the way he approaches tamba is very caring in a way that can seem like it's not, yk? likely it stems from his trust issues, it's scary to put your genuine real feelings out there, so hiding them with some snide remarks is easier. luckily, tamba has a similar approach so hey. shout out tamba n kamimura you will always be special to me.

anyways, its both so amazing and so heartbreaking that his parents were so loving and supportive, but died too soon. I do wonder about the role of attachment in this case; like specifically in babies/toddlers, they get attached to their parents usually because that's the first person they see, the first to take care of them. kamimura was able to get that love and support from his parents, even when it got so much harder and the days in the hospitals got longer. so having it all be taken away when you're NINE? that's obviously gonna destroy you, and that leads to his trust issues and isolation. he was able to thrive still as a young child because he had his parents to support him! so when that's all gone, how else are you supposed to cope?

yeah fuck you family friend, that was brutal. I cant even imagine coming home from school to find your parents absolutely desecrated. the day of his parents death beginning the routine of staying locked in his room.... oh my god like what if I cried (I did). that probably changed the way he thought about his room; his room was an escape from the horrors of the outside world. if he just stayed in the room, he wouldn't have to experience the fucked up world. it became a habit. EUGAHHD I'm in shambles.

after the murder of his parents, it's understandable that it shook kamimura and his aunt to their core. that was a violent murder (by a man who was literally just rejected romantically.... its so fucking upsetting that that is a common crime). his aunt wasn't even ready to have kids so having the responsibility of taking in kamimura must've been a lot. In regards to homesick, despite the very clear distance in their relationship, kamimura really seems to appreciate her being there, even if it was very distanced; she was still an important part of his grieving process and his whole life honestly.

oh boy here we go. isao when I catch you istg..... sorry that's an exaggeration, likely this was from a societal disgust, yk just homophobia from the world, so I cant really blame this kid too much.... but we still have beef. god, this was one of those actually crushing crushes, hm. it's so fucked up; someone who was starting to get kamimura a bit out of the dark space that was his life, giving him something to enjoy and be happy about! and all of that was just thrown away because kamimura was vulnerable and shared his feelings. not having your feelings returned can already be devastating, but this? the spread of rumors, the bullying, the losing his one friend? it's like the world wants to torture him omfg. here the trust issues become worse; those who loved him leave, those who he loved leave. everyone just leaves, so what's the point?

this explains his relationship with hasegawa, and the issue after trial 1. it had to have felt way too familiar; telling someone he was fond of vulnerable information, only for it to be told to a bunch of people he never wanted in his fucking business. however, I think the reason why they made up rather quickly in clean up crew (which btw I watched w my friend earlier today bc I got them into tetro........ god I love that episode) is hasegawa's response. hasegawa, unlike isao, is remorseful, he CARES. hasegawa even shares something personal to him, about his own loss.

I think this also changes the scene of hasegawa coming out a bit. before, he was rejected by isao because he was a homophobic douchebag. but in the student spotlight, hasegawa casually says he's not into girls. while its funny thinking that kamimura was having some gay panic then lmao, I think actually it was probably processing that in a confused comfort, not exactly because his feelings could be reciprocated, but for this; hasegawa was so comfortable with coming out as gay, so comfortable with the concept, unlike isao. if kamimura confessed his feelings to hasegawa, and were (somehow) not reciprocated, he likely still wouldn't have ran away. of course, with kamimura's trust issues, he probably wasn't confident in that assumption, but hasegawa is not the kind of person to drop someone because they confessed to them. he would've kept the person that had become so important to him. and because of that maybe, just maybe, kamimura would've said what he really wanted to say if the interview had happened before woodshop.

once he's on his own and moves out, he no longer has someone reminding him to do things, so with no motivation to simply live, he ends up staying locked in his house like we've seen before. what's the point in anything? when that kind of spiral hits you, and you don't have other people present in your life to keep doing, how would you ever stay motivated?? I know it was a really informal post, so I might be going insane trying to add this to the analysis, but the repetition of 'but life goes on' I think really solidifies the importance of a support system. when things are difficult, the world never just stops, it keeps going despite your struggle. but having people who care about you around you can help make each day easier, they can help 'slow down time' if you will. kamimura has gone through an amount of stress no one should have to face, but people around him could have made it easier on him by being there. that's the tragedy of tetro.

it's especially tragic that at the very end, right before the kg, he was taking his own life.

(plot wise, I need to know what y'all theorists think of this bc I have ideas but i need to finish the staffside logs before I can even actually consider my thoughts lmfao.)

sorry to be captain obvious on a majority of this post lol but gosh wow. I really loved that we got this, it was so much information I am kinda stoked despite basically all of it being depressing as hell. tetro has really become an inspiration for me and writing, I am constantly so impressed by von's writing and it's given me perspective on how to approach writing as a whole. i feel as though this gave me so much perspective on kamimura himself as a character. some of this just confirmed my ideas already, but it strikes me as something so human just learning all of this. when I, or anyone really, first meet people, I only know surface level things, yk cause I don't know them. but then I start talking to them, and I learn about different things that have happened to them, how they feel about certain issues or what they're doing on a day to day basis. you can never know everything of course, but when you discover new parts of someone, it makes them more complex and they don't fit the idea you had of them before because people are complex!! and that's the beauty of writing, capturing humanity! the impact of each character, esp kamimura, has been so beautifully done, I'm just constantly moved as the story progresses.

thank y'all sm for reading my excuse to talk about kamimura, this was A LOT of blabbing I'm so so sorry but I hope you enjoyed haha! :)

[clubsilenzio]

"i wasn't in a good mental state" i say. as if i've ever been in a good mental state in my entire life lmao

[shushmal]

There's an incredibly pretty girl at the front desk in Family Video, and Steve—Eddie's boyfriend of eight months—is leaning over the counter with a sly smile and half-lidded eyes.

Eddie pauses in the doorway, struck dumb for a moment as he takes in the scene, and then gleefully ducks down behind the nearest shelf.

"So tell me," Steve says, all low and intimate. "What kind of movie were you looking for?"

"Um," the girl says. She doesn't sound very enthusiastic—barely indulgent at best. Eddie wishes he could see, but any sight of him will ruin Steve's chances right now. He's got a pretty good mental picture though. "I really like those old black and white movies, the really glamorous ones, you know?"

"Oh, totally," Steve sighs, like he's swooning. "Like Cary Grant, Clarke Gabel?" Eddie can practically hear his smirk. "Katharine Hepburn? Ginger Rogers?"

"Oh, I love Ginger Rogers!"

"Really?" Steve says matching her excitement. "Well, you're just in luck! Robin here knows all about those old black and white movies, don't you Robin?"

Eddie presses a hand to his mouth to hide his snickering. Robin had looked like a hooked fish when he'd walked in, she's gotta be gaping stupidly right now. "Uuuh," he hears her mumbling, and tries not to snort too loud. "Y-Yeah, uh, golden age of Hollywood stuff, absolutely. I could? Show you where they are?"

"Oh my gosh, that would be amazing!" the girl says, her interest in the conversation now warmed by several degrees. Eddie is still a little in awe of how well his boyfriend can sniff out gay girls.

"I got the front here, Robin," Steve cuts in smoothly. "You ladies take your time, make sure you pick out a good one!"

Eddie waits another beat, listening at their footsteps shuffle away, before he pops up from behind the shelf. Steve, lighting up like a Christmas tree, beams at him.

"Am I a genius or what?" he whispers, grinning ear to ear.

"Your lesbian powers know no equal," Eddie says just as quietly, taking the girl's spot at the counter, leaning into Steve's space. Steve happily mirrors him, until they're tucked together, the world narrowing down to the two of them. It's Eddie's favorite place to be. "All hail Steve Harrington, blessid he, lesbian whisper. Come to aid all useless queers in the fight against singledom."

"Thank you, thank you," Steve says with an air of novel benevolence. "I promise to only use my powers for good."

"Dingus. Doofus."

They jump away from each other as if shocked. Robin glowers at them both, but the pretty girl behind her is giggling and standing way too close for friendly, just at Robin's elbow.

"Move it, lovebirds," she hisses as she rounds the desk. "I need to check Claire out."

"I think you already have," Steve says. His smile this time is down right evil.

Robin actually hisses at him, and hip checks him away from the register. Eddie does a bow, sweeping his arm out to give Claire the prime spot in front of the desk, before he turns back to Steve.

"My dear, if you could please," he simpers, all posh and nasally. "Show me to your finest, grossest horror movie, thank you my good sir."

"Ugh," Steve groans already heading off into the shelves, not waiting for Eddie to follow. "You're lucky I love you, Ed. Shit gives me nightmares."

"I know," Eddie sings, chasing him. "I love you too."

[boarcide]

I truly think that one of the biggest tragedies in BEAST in regards to the Akutagawa siblings is that, at the core of it, Ryuunosuke viewed himself as a beast, and showed his love in a way a beast would, while Gin was the only person who ever saw him as human and judged him accordingly. She did not see a beast acting like a beast, the way everybody else did, she saw a human acting like a beast and it’s part of what drove her away.

The ADA saw their rookie detective at his worst, and watched—and continues to watch—him grow from a beast to a human over time. Consumed by hatred and only knowing how to be cruel, and slowly learning how to become human.

Gin saw her brother at his best—the best he could be in their situation—and then watched him grow from a boy to a beast within moments. The scraps of humanity that he had, all disappearing into rage so primal it no longer made him seem human.

[itissadbutitsmy-artblog]

i think its insane that bmo is getting a preschool show. i know hes made to take care of kids but every bmo episode is like

"bmo kills his sibling on his birthday and has to deal with th trauma all on his own forever"

or "bmo is lost in the woods and watching his own biological clock tick away he cant protect the baby he found he cant protect the man he just fell in love with and then his fiance is killed in front of him by the people he promised would protect him"

and "bmo and his reflection just established that they love each other, but they dont love each other more than freedom, now bmo's trapped in the mirror dimension while he and his reflection try to either kill one another or destroy any means of escape"

like i cnat stress enough. every bmo episode is like this. bmo noire, guardians of sunshine, orb, they are all like this. the only lighthearted bmo episodes are president porpoise and always bmo closing, and even president porpoise has bmo forcing dark shit into the game. him and ice king are like yay yay yay little colorful submarine trip:) and then bmo is like SOLDIER WE'RE RUNNING OUT OF AIR AND THE ENEMIES AR E SHOOTING.AT US WE ARE. DYING I WILL GET YOU HOME TO THE KIDS YOU SPEAK OF SO FONDLY

like, i dont think preschool kids cant have a host like bmo i just think its insane. if they strip all the darkness from his character he'd be so weird. hes a sad traumatized little guy. hes cute and sweet and hes good at taking care of kids, but every bmo episode in advtime proper is dark and wild

[cuteniarose]

Me: *creates an OC*

Me: *heavily implies OC will meet a bad fate*

OC: *meets bad fate*

Me:

(Alternatively, I may have started it, but @katkastrofa enabled me and now I’m losing my mind)

[aupermittymeowmeow]

yall cannot tell me you did not think that one scene was Christain Brutal Sniper in Emesis Blue

[gh0st-city]

Thinking about Azula again...

[omtai]

everytime i nap im like ehhhh it’ll be fine im not gonna have any nightmares ill only be sleeping a little while. and then every time without fail i have nightmares. i sure am a tough nut to crack