#but really to me they are both anything but morally ideal

[narcissisticpdcultureis]

VERY LONG SUBMISSION SORRY I HAVE A LOT TO SAY

SELF DIAGNOSED "I'M SO NICE" NPD CULTURE IS. LITERALLY ALWAYS KNOWING YOU HAD SOMETHING WRONG WITH YOU. BUT SOCIETY HAS SPOONFED YOU THE PROPAGANDISTIC IDEALS OF NARC DEMONISATION SINCE THE DAY YOU WERE FRESH OUT THE WOMB, SO EVEN THOUGH YOU PERSONALLY BELIEVED YOU DIDN'T DEMONISE NPD, YOU NEVER ONCE CONSIDERED HAVING IT BECAUSE YOU ALWAYS TOLD YOURSELF "I DEFINITELY DON'T HAVE NPD, I'M WAY TOO NICE FOR THAT!"

BUT YOU STILL KNEW THERE WAS SOMETHING SERIOUSLY FUCKING WRONG WITH YOU. CLUSTER B PERSONALITY DISORDER SOUNDS ABOUT RIGHT.

"HEY WAIT, I SEEM TO RELATE TO BPD EXPERIENCES!!! THIS IS WHAT'S WRONG WITH ME!"

IT WAS NOT BPD. THE THINGS I FOUND RELATABLE WERE JUST GENERAL CLUSTER B SYMPTOMS OR EXPLAINABLE BY SOMETHING ELSE.

SEVERE IDENTITY ISSUES? JUST NPD.

HAVING A FP AND PLACING YOUR SELF WORTH AND EMOTIONAL STATE IN THEM? ANY PERSONALITY DISORDER CAN HAVE A FP.

SUDDEN MOOD SWINGS? IT'S PROBABLY NPD WHEN I'M MET WITH DIRECT CRITICISM / RUDENESS / AND I FEEL INSANELY OFFENDED OR ATTACKED AND INSTINCTIVELY AND UNCONTROLLABLY GET SUPER DEFENSIVE AND COMBATIVE AND GRASP AT ANYTHING I CAN TO "GET BACK" AT THEM TO COPE WITH FEELING LIKE I JUST GOT FUCKING STABBED IN THE CHEST

FEAR OF ABANDONMENT? CHILDHOOD UPBRINGING + TRAUMA LOL ALSO IT CRUSHES MY EGO BADLY THAT PEOPLE FIND ME SO INSUFFERABLE THAT THEY NEVER WANT TO TALK TO ME AGAIN SO LOWKEY NPD TOO

SUICIDAL THREATS? UMM OK SO THIS IS AN ENTIRE STORYTIME FOR ANOTHER SUBMISSION SO JUST. GO FIND IT FROM MY ANON SIGNOFF TAG IF YOU'RE CURIOUS. TLDR I WAS 10 AND PLAYING ROYALE HIGH 💀

BLACK AND WHITE THINKING? AUTISM. OR POSSIBLY NPD

"WOW, I FEEL LIKE I RELATE A LOT TO HPD SYMPTOMS!!!! I MUST HAVE BOTH BPD AND HPD!"

HPD IS BARELY TALKED ABOUT EVEN IN PD SPACES, THE DSM CRITERIA FOR IT IS VAGUE AND UNSPECIFIC AND WACKY MAKING IT DIFFICULT TO ACCURATELY SELF DIAGNOSE IT (OR EVEN ACCURATELY DIAGNOSE IT IN GENERAL), AND ALL OF MY HPD SYMPTOMS CAN BE EXPLAINED BY SOMETHING ELSE.

UNSTABLE EMOTIONS? LITERALLY JUST CLUSTER B AND AUTISM.

ATTENTION SEEKING + TWEAKING WHEN NO ATTENTION? MOSTLY JUST NPD, BUT COULD ALSO BE SOMEWHAT CATALYSTED BY MY INSANELY EXTROVERTED, OUTGOING AND SOCIALLY DEPENDENT PERSONALITY.

DRAMATIC BEHAVIOUR? I HAVE MANY OUTBURSTS OR EPISODES OF LOSING MY SHIT BECAUSE OF A COMBINATION OF TRAUMA, AUTISM, AND JUST BEING CLUSTER B.

EXAGGERATED AND OVER-THE-TOP PERSONA? THAT IS LITERALLY JUST THE ARTIFICIAL PERSONA I MOLDED MYSELF INTO BECAUSE MY NPD THOUGHT IT'D MAKE EVERYONE LOVE ME BUT MY NPD SWEARS THIS IS THE REAL ME EVEN THOUGH I'M JUST FABRICATING MY PERSONALITY TO BE CLOSER TO THE IDEALISED ME I HAVE IN MY HEAD.

HAVING "STRONG OPINIONS" THAT ARE MALLEABLE AND DEPENDENT ON THOSE AROUND ME? PROBABLY A COMBINATION OF BEING AN FE DOMINANT IN TYPOLOGY (THIS MEANS MY MORALS AND DECISIONS ARE BASED ON HOW SOMETHING AFFECTS OTHERS) AND BEING LOW EMPATHY + COMPASSION (SOMETIMES I CAN'T UNDERSTAND OR CARE FOR HOW SOMETHING WILL AFFECT OTHERS, BUT I TRY AND GUESS / ASSUME WHAT THE RIGHT THING TO DO IS ANYWAYS BECAUSE I'M A GOOD PERSON) *SORRY FOR THE TYPOLOGY MENTION IN A PSYCHOLOGICAL CONTEXT I THINK MANY PEOPLE FUCKING HATE THAT IN PSYCHOLOGY/MENTAL HEALTH SPACES I DON'T TREAT IT LIKE ASTROLOGY OKAY? 😭 I JUST THINK IT'S A GREAT TOOL TO EXPLAIN AND CATEGORISE THE ASPECTS OF YOUR PERSONALITY UNRELATED TO MENTAL ILLNESS OR TRAUMA SINCE EVERY TYPOLOGY SYSTEM IS UNIQUE

THE HPD SELF DIAGNOSIS WAS ON A WHIM BTW I WAS REALLY STUPID ABOUT THAT .. ☹️ I HEARD "PDS ARE VERY COMMONLY COMORBID" AND I TOOK THAT AND JUST DIAGNOSED MYSELF WITH WHATEVER I FOUND SLIGHTLY RELATABLE. I SAW A VID OF SOMEONE WITH HPD TALKING ABOUT THEIR EXPERIENCE + THEY MENTIONED SOMETHING LIKE "WE HAVE A GOD COMPLEX BUT WE HATE OURSELVES AT THE SAME TIME" WHICH HELPED ME COME TO TERMS WITH MY EGO AND GRANDIOSITY (WHILE STILL THINKING IT WAS BPD AND HPD), SO I SELF DIAGNOSED MYSELF WITH NPD TOO . WHILE ONLY DOING THE BARE MINIMUM OF RESEARCH 😟 LIKE OBVIOUSLY I DIDN'T THINK NPD WAS Symptoms: Kills people, eats babies, manipulates everyone, takes over the world, is ONLY CAPABLE of feeling EVIL and can NEVER be kind EVER, CAUSE I WAS CONSCIOUSLY ACCEPTING OF PWNPD EVEN THOUGH I HAD SOME DEMONISATION STILL SUBCONSCIOUSLY INTERNALISED BECAUSE OF WHAT SOCIETY SPOONFEEDS US + ABSOLUTELY NOBODY IS 100% FREE OF AT LEAST A LITTLE BIT OF SUBCONSCIOUS INTERNALISED BIGOTRY BUT I BASICALLY HAD JUST JUMPED THE GUN

AFTER A WHILE I LOWKEY REALISED THAT BPD AND HPD DID NOT SEEM TO FIT ME . AND I UNDIAGNOSED MYSELF WITH NPD TOO CAUSE THE TWO MISDIAGNOSES MADE ME ASSUME I DIDN'T HAVE A PD AT ALL. SO I HAD A SHORT PERIOD OF "DAMN I GUESS I DON'T HAVE ANY DISORDERS THAT EXPLAIN WHY I'M SO FUCKED UP AND INSANE AND MENTALLY UNWELL"

BEFORE I FOUND OUT MY FP HAD NPD. AND I WAS LIKE "WAIT, REALLY? BUT THEY'RE SO NICE TO ME... HONESTLY, IT MAKES SENSE". AND THAT MOTIVATED ME TO ACTUALLY DO RESEARCH ON NPD BECAUSE THIS TOLD ME I DIDN'T UNDERSTAND IT ENOUGH. I WANTED TO UNDERSTAND THEM.

THAT WAS BASICALLY HOW I STARTED TO REALISE I HAD NPD. I TRIED DENYING A LOT OF CORRELATIONS . AND I NEVER SUSPECTED I HAD NPD FOR YEARS BECAUSE THE COGNITIVE DISTORTIONS HAD NORMALISED SO MANY THINGS TO ME + I QUITE UNSUCCESSFULLY TRIED BOTTLING UP THINGS I THOUGHT WERE MEAN (WHICH BASICALLY MADE ME BELIEVE I'M SECRETLY AN AWFUL PERSON AND NOBODY KNOWS IT) . I THOUGHT MY GRANDIOSE FANTASIES WERE NORMAL UNTIL I WAS LIKE 15. I THOUGHT NEVER BEING ABLE TO COMPREHEND YOU'RE IN THE WRONG BUT PRETENDING YOU DO AND APOLOGISING TO "DO THE RIGHT THING" WAS NORMAL. I THOUGHT MY LEVEL OF EMPATHY WAS NORMAL. I THOUGHT MY JEALOUSY AND ENVY WERE NNORMAL. I NEVER WORDED MY THOUGHTS OF CONTEMPT AND SUPERIORITY TO OTHERS IN A WAY THAT WAS LIKE "HEH... YOU'RE SO PATHETIC.... I'M SO MUCH BETTER THAN YOU" IT WAS MORE LIKE "LOL I'M _ AND THEY'RE NOT" SO IT WASN'T OBVIOUS TO ME THAT THIS WASN'T NORMAL . BUT WHEN I DID WORD IT THAT WAY, I DIDN'T THINK I WAS A NARC I JUST THOUGHT I WAS SECRETLY AN ASSHOLE 😭 I SERIOUSLY NEVER THOUGHT MY KINDNESS HAD SELFISH INTENTIONS I THOUGHT IT WAS NORMAL TO ONLY BE NICE FOR PEOPLE TO LIKE YOU ┛◠ ┛ ANYWAYS IT'S 2025 AND I AM NO LONGER BLINDED BY BIAS OR DELUSION COGNITIVE DISTORTIONS AND I KNOW FOR A FACT THAT MY PROBLEM IS NPD!!!!!!!!! AND LITERALLY NOTHING ELSE I THINK . I AM 16 AND GONNA "TRY TO GET DIAGNOSED" SOON (NOT GOING TO EVER SAY "I THINK I HAVE NPD". I'M GONNA SPECIFICALLY MENTION ALL MY NARC TRAITS TO MY THERAPIST AND WORD THEM IN A VERY TEXTBOOK NPD WAY WITHOUT EVER LYING I'M JUST GOING OUT OF MY WAY TO TELL THE TRUTH AND WORDING IT IN A STEREOTYPICAL NPD WAY)

THX 4 READING I LOAV U (^з^)-☆Chu!!

— 🍋‍🟩🍃

[pt: very long submission sorry i have a lot to say

self diagnosed "i'm so nice" npd culture is. literally always knowing you had something wrong with you. but society has spoonfed you the propagandistic ideals of narc demonisation since the day you were fresh out the womb, so even though you personally believed you didn't demonise npd, you never once considered having it because you always told yourself "i definitely don't have npd, i'm way too nice for that!"

but you still knew there was something seriously fucking wrong with you. cluster b personality disorder sounds about right.

"hey wait, i seem to relate to bpd experiences!!! this is what's wrong with me!"

it was not bpd. the things i found relatable were just general cluster b symptoms or explainable by something else.

severe identity issues? just npd.

having a fp and placing your self worth and emotional state in them? any personality disorder can have a fp.

sudden mood swings? it's probably npd when i'm met with direct criticism / rudeness / and i feel insanely offended or attacked and instinctively and uncontrollably get super defensive and combative and grasp at anything i can to "get back" at them to cope with feeling like i just got fucking stabbed in the chest

fear of abandonment? childhood upbringing + trauma lol also it crushes my ego badly that people find me so insufferable that they never want to talk to me again so lowkey npd too

suicidal threats? umm ok so this is an entire storytime for another submission so just. go find it from my anon signoff tag if you're curious. tldr i was 10 and playing royale high 💀

black and white thinking? autism. or possibly npd

"wow, i feel like i relate a lot to hpd symptoms!!!! i must have both bpd and hpd!"

hpd is barely talked about even in pd spaces, the dsm criteria for it is vague and unspecific and wacky making it difficult to accurately self diagnose it (or even accurately diagnose it in general), and all of my hpd symptoms can be explained by something else.

unstable emotions? literally just cluster b and autism.

attention seeking + tweaking when no attention? mostly just npd, but could also be somewhat catalysted by my insanely extroverted, outgoing and socially dependent personality.

dramatic behaviour? i have many outbursts or episodes of losing my shit because of a combination of trauma, autism, and just being cluster b.

exaggerated and over-the-top persona? that is literally just the artificial persona i molded myself into because my npd thought it'd make everyone love me but my npd swears this is the real me even though i'm just fabricating my personality to be closer to the idealised me i have in my head.

having "strong opinions" that are malleable and dependent on those around me? probably a combination of being an fe dominant in typology (this means my morals and decisions are based on how something affects others) and being low empathy + compassion (sometimes i can't understand or care for how something will affect others, but i try and guess / assume what the right thing to do is anyways because i'm a good person) *sorry for the typology mention in a psychological context i think many people fucking hate that in psychology/mental health spaces i don't treat it like astrology okay? 😭 i just think it's a great tool to explain and categorise the aspects of your personality unrelated to mental illness or trauma since every typology system is unique

the hpd self diagnosis was on a whim btw i was really stupid about that .. ☹️ i heard "pds are very commonly comorbid" and i took that and just diagnosed myself with whatever i found slightly relatable. i saw a vid of someone with hpd talking about their experience + they mentioned something like "we have a god complex but we hate ourselves at the same time" which helped me come to terms with my ego and grandiosity (while still thinking it was bpd and hpd), so i self diagnosed myself with npd too . while only doing the bare minimum of research 😟 like obviously i didn't think npd was symptoms: kills people, eats babies, manipulates everyone, takes over the world, is only capable of feeling evil and can never be kind ever, cause i was consciously accepting of pwnpd even though i had some demonisation still subconsciously internalised because of what society spoonfeeds us + absolutely nobody is 100% free of at least a little bit of subconscious internalised bigotry but i basically had just jumped the gun

after a while i lowkey realised that bpd and hpd did not seem to fit me . and i undiagnosed myself with npd too cause the two misdiagnoses made me assume i didn't have a pd at all. so i had a short period of "damn i guess i don't have any disorders that explain why i'm so fucked up and insane and mentally unwell"

before i found out my fp had npd. and i was like "wait, really? but they're so nice to me… honestly, it makes sense". and that motivated me to actually do research on npd because this told me i didn't understand it enough. i wanted to understand them.

that was basically how i started to realise i had npd. i tried denying a lot of correlations . and i never suspected i had npd for years because the cognitive distortions had normalised so many things to me + i quite unsuccessfully tried bottling up things i thought were mean (which basically made me believe i'm secretly an awful person and nobody knows it) . i thought my grandiose fantasies were normal until i was like 15. i thought never being able to comprehend you're in the wrong but pretending you do and apologising to "do the right thing" was normal. i thought my level of empathy was normal. i thought my jealousy and envy were nnormal. i never worded my thoughts of contempt and superiority to others in a way that was like "heh… you're so pathetic…. i'm so much better than you" it was more like "lol i'm _ and they're not" so it wasn't obvious to me that this wasn't normal . but when i did word it that way, i didn't think i was a narc i just thought i was secretly an asshole 😭 i seriously never thought my kindness had selfish intentions i thought it was normal to only be nice for people to like you ┛◠ ┛ anyways it's 2025 and i am no longer blinded by bias or delusion cognitive distortions and i know for a fact that my problem is npd!!!!!!!!! and literally nothing else i think . i am 16 and gonna "try to get diagnosed" soon (not going to ever say "i think i have npd". i'm gonna specifically mention all my narc traits to my therapist and word them in a very textbook npd way without ever lying i'm just going out of my way to tell the truth and wording it in a stereotypical npd way)

thx 4 reading i loav u (^з^)-☆chu!!]

[violet-moonstone]

once more defending my love, book!elphaba thropp

reading reviews of wicked and im seeing people say they hate book elphaba because she's "unlikable"

so many people love the feel good vibes of the musical while not seeing that they sound exactly like people who would have shunned elphaba at shiz for not being pleasant enough and making them feel unsettled instead of putting them at ease

I'm saying this because I find that people are often much more charitable towards fictional characters than real people -- and people IRL who have Elphaba's severe, unwavering personality and unwillingness to conform often face the same social stigma she did, no green skin required. Like yes, Elphaba was an outcast because she had green skin, but I don't think the green skin is the point of the novel. I think her being green is a visual manifestation of being so at odds with what you're "supposed" to be that people demonize you for it. Book Elphaba is queer and hinted to be intersex. I read her as neurodivergent, so this all tracks to me, and considering that other forms of oppression and stigmatization are very important themes in the narrative, I think the green-ness simply emphasizes to the other ways in which she's marginalized.

Trying not to go into the Wicked rant that I tend to do every few months but I feel it coming on

I'm all here for critiques of the novel, because it certainly has flaws, and I understand why people don't enjoy it -- but there is something funny to me about people wanting a narrative about looking beneath the surface to find true value but hating the version of that story that requires the most compassion to appreciate. Like the musical is fun and well-made but it does not require any effort to like musical Elphaba because she's conventionally attractive woman who's feisty and kinda quirky...oh and she's also green. And her being green matters more to the other characters than to us. We don't care that she's green (because we already know it would be wrong to judge her based on that) and the musical gives us no other reasons to judge her, so we don't really have to process any complex emotions.

(Sidenote, I think if book Elphaba were still green but more conventionally attractive, bubbly, and less political, she would not have been as much of an outcast -- at least not in her later adolescence. Her green-ness could have been a novelty or spectacle that she used to her advantage if she made up for it by being more palatable in other ways. Of course, she would never do this, because that's simply not Elphaba. She could never twist herself to be anything other than who she is, even out of social self-preservation.)

Book Elphaba is so much more prickly and unpleasant --and hell, so was I at the height of my social ineptitude and feeling like there was something so so wrong with me (because why for the love of God couldn't I just fit in and act the way the cool kids my age did).

Her unpleasantness and seriousness and insistence on talking about important things that make people uncomfortable are her green-ness imo. Those are the things that affect how we as the reader experience her, and we must experience her strangeness as well.

And while I understand that if the moral of the story is essentially "don't judge a book by its cover" then yes, you can tell a thematically sound story about a girl who is actually pretty cool but just happens to be green and talk about how she's ostracized simply because she looks different. That's a perfectly fine story -- but I think it can go much further -- because it's not only wrong to marginalize people who look different, it's also wrong to marginalize those who are internally different. Difference is persecuted whether its visual or behavioural.

Even if Elphaba weren't green, there are inherent aspects of who she is that prevent her from conforming to the ideal, both in her world and ours. And I think valuing her with all of those things in mind is a lot more rewarding than simply liking her despite the fact that she's green.

Anyway I love Elphaba Thropp and I don't think her being more palatable would have made the story better — it simply would have made it more popular, and I think on that at least, fans of both the book and musical should be able to agree is not an inherently better thing.

...

OK one last point, I saw someone saw they prefer the musical because it has more "girl power" meanwhile the book feels "obviously written by a man" and I just...dear god what a surface level take

Yes Gregory Maguire is a man (oh, the horror!), but he wrote the women in Wicked as people, without hand wringing about if they're likeable or pleasant enough. They are flawed and raw and not just there to make the audience feel warm and fuzzy. He writes about sexuality without making women feel like sexual objects -- I suspect because he also writes about the sexuality of his male characters (the women aren't just in the story to turn us on) and he himself is gay, so there may be less male-gaze going on than with a lot of men who write fantasy. Yes, characters are described in sexual ways, but this happens regardless of gender.

[alphajocklover]

I really want a hot boyfriend. does instajock always make you straight or can I use it on a guy to make him more my type? (and maybe also make me more his type)

So, I think there's been a bit of a misunderstanding, one that I want to clear up. While I do my best to report on different transformation methods, I can’t include every detail about every one of them. My posts are relatively short and don’t always cover everything, because if I did it would take forever. The lack of details, plus some distracting pictures, leads to a lot of people getting details mixed up or getting confused. It’s happened before, and I think it’s what is happening here. I say this because as far as I can remember I have never mentioned anything about InstaJock turning someone straight.

InstaJock can change a person's sexuality, theoretically, through the settings and details section that I've mentioned in previous posts. The thing is, it normally doesn’t. Instajock changes its users personality, their body, and their mind, but for some reason their sexuality will usually stay the same. They’ll become more openly sexual, and also often very flirtatious to fit their new jock persona, but their sexual identity doesn’t change. Even when their sexuality does change it usually turns them gay, not straight.  For some reason the app's already confusing setting page is set up so it's a lot easier to set your sexuality to gay then to straight. My best guess for why the app is set up that way is that the creator, or creators, are gay themselves and have a thing for jocks. I mean, you don’t make a seemingly impossible app that changes people into dumb jocks if you don’t have some sort of kink for it.. So, If you use the app on someone who's already gay you’ve probably got nothing to worry about. Chances are they’ll stay gay, unless they happen to have a huge conversion kink and are really good with computers. Anyways, now that we’ve cleared up that issue let's get into the specifics of your issue. 

Changing someone's personality and identity so that they’ll be your ideal boyfriend is… pretty questionable, if I’m being honest. But so is much of what happens in the world of transformations, so I’ll focus on the ‘how to’ rather than the morals. Your first problem is one I’ve brought up before: You can only give someone the app if you already have the app. Only an already transformed Jock can invite another person to InstaJock. You’d only be able to transform him,but only if you are changed yourself. I know you said you’d be with being changed, but once you become a jock figuring out the app will be much harder, so you might not end up his type, or he might not end up yours. I think your best bet would be to convince a jock to change both of you. InstaJock users can send out multiple invites at once, so it would be easy even for him. Though I wouldn’t be surprised if he makes a dumb mistake. He is a jock afterall.

I do hope this works out for you. Not because I approve of what you’re doing, but because there are a lot of ways this could go wrong. One of you could have your sexuality changed when you get transformed, the jock who changes you both might make you brothers instead of boyfriends, or you and he could just not click. Just because someones your type doesn’t mean they’re the right person for you. Even if you and your target don’t end up together, I think you will have a much easier time getting a boyfriend after you use InstaJock. I hate to be shallow, but dating is usually easier when you have a 6 pack and huge pecs.

[yayll]

Hi!! It’s my first time requesting something so I dont know how that works.. um I was thinking of some mission like some kind of ball that dazai and y/n has to go and y/n has to seduce someone to get information out of them. You know those masquerade balls? Yeah I think that really goood!! And dazai gets sooooooooo jealous and after she got the information dazai kiss her infront of that person to show him that she’s his😭😭😭😭😭😭omg

HIII angel sorry this took me a while, but i hope you like it :') i tweaked your idea a lil and fingers crossed this is what you so graciously asked for. i tried to put my best jealous goofy ass dazai in there along with the absolute MUSH his brain turns into when he has you to himself mixed with a lil........ fucked in the headness. i love requests! this was soooo fun to write i love youuuuuu <3

~ a little something about Dazai and his uncharacteristic jealousy ~

"Osamu, come on... You're my only sweetheart, you know that."

You call out half sweetly and half out of breath as you follow him down the hallway of the lavish event you were currently attending, dressed to the nines and trying to remain undercover. You were coming to realize why people didn't date within the workplace as he walked ahead, grumbling to himself. He's trying to remain unfazed, pretending to still be upset as he shrugs with his back turned to you.

"Hmph. I dunno, I don't feel like I'm your 'sweet' anything..."

This causes you to roll your eyes affectionately and pick up the pace, placing a hand on the back of his shoulder to finally stop him in his tracks. You flash him a sincere smile, and speak softly.

"I'm really sorry you had to see that. I didn't know that asshole was going to kiss me after he let me go. I also didn't think you'd ever get jealous..."

You say that last part with a more playful tone, treading dangerous waters of your unpredictable lover's emotions. As expected, he sighs dramatically, casting you a look of disgust.

"Ugh, of course I'm not... That's honestly sooo lame and pathetic. I can entertain jealousy as much as I can entertain one of Kunikida's little speeches on morals, or whatever."

"You mean his 'ideals'?"

You chide, stifling a laugh. He glares at you, his eyes narrowing as he scans you for a moment.

He can't find a single flaw on that precious face, not a single stray hair or stain on your exquisite outfit. He should change that by the end of the night.

"... You're always so negative, correcting me and whatnot. Isn't it tiring being so irritatingly superior in every way?"

This one gets a laugh out of you, You can tell he's slowly lightening up his mood by the way you both begin walking side by side once again.

"Yeah well, if it weren't for that little kiss earlier, we'd both still be all tied up in the wine cellar of this wonderful party."

He flashes you a pout, and shrugs dismissively.

"And here I thought you of all people would like the idea of being tied up with me. Hmph, wrong partner, I suppose."

Now he was starting to pick back at you, though it was cute. Jealousy looked cute on him, it was something you didn't think he was capable of. It was a pity it had to be during a mission where your main asset was your seduction skills and his was mental instability. You hated every second of it, but you also wanted to make sure you both made it out with the secret intel alive.

You make your way into the grand ballroom, the gala is in full swing, and your eyes dart around to find a proper escape route. Just as you see an exit, a handsome and well dressed young man blocks your view, sticking his hand out.

"Hi. You're gorgeous. Care for a dance?"

You stare down at his hand and then back up at the stranger, your face flushing as you're caught off guard.

"Me? No, no I-"

Dazai immediately interjects, sloppily holding a glass of champagne that somehow manifested in his hand and pretends to be drunk. He loved his theatrics, especially when he was desperate.

He bumps harshly into the young man's shoulder, the alcohol sloshing out of the cup as he slurs, but not before he flashes you a wink to tell you to play along.

"Sooo sorry, pardon me. This indeed beautiful angel is quite busy you see... Taking care of me that is. Ooh, I'm a wreck! I'm nothing but a sad and lonely dog.. In this sad and lonely world-"

The man looks at Dazai skeptically, and huffs into a chuckle. He shoves him away, and turns his attention back to you. Your eyes dart nervously between the two, wondering what Dazai will do next.

"Shut it, clown.. Anyway, I think this further proves you should be in the company of a gentleman like me tonight rather than this wet mop-"

The sound of a champagne flute soaring through the air and connecting to the man's skull is suddenly heard, interrupting him and sending him falling to the ground along with broken glass and liquid everywhere. In one swift motion, Dazai is at your side with a premature victorious smirk, but before you can both be on your way, the man regains his posture and spins him around, punching him square in the face. Dazai's not scrawny or weak, but he isn't the most skilled fighter, relying mostly on his special ability and intelligence to get him out of things.

You gasp, instinctively grabbing Dazai by the collar of his suit and dragging him away to get lost in the crowd of concerned people. You finally make it outside and you both collapse onto the soft grass just outside the venue. It's decorated with all kinds of flowers and fragrant rose bushes, it almost looks like you're at the garden of Versailles. You look over at Dazai, his nose bleeding all over the place, but he looks completely unbothered by it. As you reach over to touch the bridge of his nose, he grabs your wrist and holds it away gently. He waves a finger at you.

"No touchy, I've got it."

He does not, in fact, got it. He looks around until he plucks a rose petal and uses it to wipe his nostrils. You frown, getting all up in his space within an instant.

"What on earth are you doing, Osamu? Let me help, you goofball. Your nose is a mess thanks to that stunt you pulled."

You tear off a bit of fabric from your outfit and dab his skin tenderly, holding his head on your lap now. You can see some blood has trailed down his neck, staining the bandages there along with the collar of his crisp white dress shirt you picked out for him this morning. Dazai perks up, his voice slightly strained but full of lightheartedness.

"How does it feel to work with the agency's most tactical and covert operative? Eh?~"

You bite back a smile, and shake your head. You murmur.

"Feels like he's asking for a death wish a little more than usual."

Your lips soon become a thin line, realizing your statement hurts a little more in the context of the situation than it usually would. He notices your mood shift as his eyes flicker from your concerned eyes down to your lips and back up again. He knows it hurts you when he's like this, reckless and acting out on the impulses of his own plans. He wants to sit up and close the gap between you, kiss you until you drop down those brave walls you're putting up for the sake of the mission. For the sake of your feelings for him. He knows he's careless with it all.

He hums, eyes trained on you as if burning the image of your heavenly self into his mind, where you always deserve to be. In the distance, a bulky sketchy looking man runs out of the venue frantically, looking around wildly and you both get the impression it's the guy from the cellar earlier who kissed you in exchange for your freedom.

Shit! You could have sworn you knocked him out cold. Dazai sits up from your lap and you two scoot more into the bush, trying to hide from him as he makes a call. You mutter under your breath, turning to Dazai as you begin to type something out on your communicator.

"Now's the perfect time to let the others know we're ready for extraction."

He's already looking at you, or gazing admiringly more like. He knows he can fuck up everything, pay any consequence, but the thing he needs to get right for the selfishness of his wretched little heart is you. He scoots a bit closer, hearing the sounds of both your shallow breaths harmonizing. He mutters, softly.

"It would also be the perfect time for you to kiss my face better. You know, for my wellness and all that. Besides, that guy wasn't very nice to us earlier and we need to get rid of any traces of him from those lips. Yuck."

You roll your eyes yet again, despite the fluttering that won't let your stomach rest.

"Who cares about that, we have a case to close first."

He smirks, voice dropping low and provocative.

"I care."

He leans in even further, practically caging you with both arms on either side of you. He can feel your breathing become more erratic, his own filled with a pathetic sense of need he always has when he's with you. Dazai's hand reaches out and grabs your chin, turning it up slightly to face him, making sure you drop this silly act once and for all. His voice comes out gentle, firm.

"I need you to physically push me away, or I swear I'm going to kiss you right now, cutie."

Your eyes widen as you let a shaky breath escape your plush lips, murmuring in return.

"I'll.. punch you in the nose again, you know..."

His hand moves from your chin to the side of your face, cupping your cheek as he takes another breath, his body aching to be as close to yours as possible. His eyes are fixed on you, tearing you apart right then and there, but not before putting you back together so nicely. In that moment, he knows you don't mean that, and he knows he can't resist anymore.

He then whispers with a finality, the anticipation torturing him like you do on a daily basis.

"I don't think I'm going to listen to that..."

You break into a faint smile as you perceive him back.

"You've still got a little blood on your-"

Without another word, Dazai closes the remaining distance between you and him, kissing you with fervor as his soft whines reverberate against your lips. You taste sweetness and then... metallic as your lips mesh together for a heavenly moment. He feels alive, this was what he needed, the soothing balm for his soul and any other wound only you could provide. He's like a vampire, a parasite leeching off of your very essence so he could be himself around you. Cowardly burrowing into the safety of your heart. You squirm just a tad, your fingers carding through his brown hair as you try to keep up. He pulls back after his nose can't push more air through and keeps his lips hovering over yours, feeling the heat from your mouth mingle with his as he sees your lips stained red with his blood. Just as he's going to comment on how disgustingly erotic it is to see you like that, he pushes away the indecent thoughts, using the bandage on his wrist to wipe your mouth instead.

"Okay, I'll be good for now. You can call for extraction.~"

It was a dumb thing to do and could be seen as him being territorial or jealous, but the reality of it was that it was the natural order of things when it came to the way he processed his affections. Someone gets in between the two of you in any way?

An uglier and more dangerous past version of himself would have called for an immediate execution, there was a reason he held the titles that he did. He did his very best to keep that mentality at bay, rebuking it every time he felt a dark urge that he felt needed to be dealt with, mostly for your sake and for the sake of the promise he made to a friend once. Though he can't lie and say that's not who he is anymore, he can always find a better way to get his point across... even if a wishful bullet to the head comes out in the form of a kiss on your precious lips. He'll try for you. He'll wear the fastidious label proudly and be Dazai, a jealous man.

[burnednotburied]

Chapter 6: A Dagger In One Hand

AO3 Link | Masterlist

Pairing: Abby Anderson x fem!reader

Fic Synopsis: Abby goes looking for Owen and ends up on the wrong end of your knife.

Tags/CWs: angst; slowburn; mutual pining; enemies to friends to lovers; talks of purity culture/ideals and “sin”; internalized homophobia and some comp-het feelings (they’re both so gay but so dumb about it); animosity between WLF and Seraphites; blood/gore; descriptions of being hanged; religious/cult-like ideas

Note: I'm really sorry for how long it took for me to write this chapter. Life's been a bitch lately. Keeps kicking me while I'm down, so to speak.

Someone asked about a taglist, so I'm starting one! Please comment if you want to be added :)

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Abby fell asleep surrounded by Scars but woke up alone.

She sat up, blinking away the stubborn remnants of her dreams. Images of her father, alive, and simpler times.

Sunlight shone in from nearby windows, indicating that it was probably already late morning, if not early afternoon, meaning that she’d slept much later than she’d meant to. Much later than she normally would.

But the last couple of days had been anything but normal.

The sound of voices in the hallway brought Abby to her feet and out the door.

Lev and Yara stood just down that hall, arguing, their voices low and insistent.

“Even if you make it, she’s not going to come with you,” Yara said.

“I can convince her.”

“We broke the rules, Lev! That’s all she’ll care about!”

Abby didn’t know who or what they were talking about, and she wasn’t nearly awake enough to begin to decipher it. Behind her, a door opened, across the hall from the room she’d come from.

“Abby?”

Your voice was quiet. Almost surprised. Like you hadn’t expected to see her standing there.

She shivered, as if you’d touched her.

She wished you would touch her.

Jesus. She really needed to get her thoughts in check.

She turned to face you.

You smiled, a stark contrast to the tense words being exchanged just around the corner. “Hi.”

“Hi.” Abby might have just woken up, but she could’ve sworn there was a halo of light surrounding you.

Maybe she was still dreaming.

Her too-recently-conscious eyes could only take in one thing at a time. First, your eyes. She was stuck there for a while. Probably much longer than what was socially acceptable. You had beautiful eyes.

Then, your mouth. Lips still slightly upturned in a warm smile. She wanted to know if you greeted everyone like this. If that smile was a common sight to those around you or if it was just for her. She couldn’t imagine she’d done anything to deserve special treatment from you, but looking at you smiling at her felt like a gift. One that she couldn’t possibly have earned.

It was at that moment that Abby remembered that she was looking at the Seraphite Prophet.

Isaac had warned her about you just over forty-eight hours ago. He’d said that the greatest threat you posed was in your ability to win people over, earning their loyalty even at the cost of their own morals. Their life-long allegiances. Their people. 

She understood now why you had been chosen to be the new Prophet. There was something about you that drew people in – had them letting their guard down – with or without all of the Seraphite brainwashing. 

Hell, Abby met you two days ago and she was already prepared to leave the certainty and security of the Washington Liberation Front to follow you wherever you wanted to go.

There was something magic about you. You must have a similar effect on everybody.

Abby was momentarily relieved, feeling like she’d solved an equation. She wasn’t losing her mind. (At least not any more than anyone else around you was.) This wasn’t her fault. It was yours.

Even as she thought it, it sounded stupid to her. But the only alternative was that these thoughts and feelings were uniquely, inherently her own. And that could only lead to the hope that you might feel the same way about her. 

She finally managed to pull her eyes away from your face and noticed that you were carrying a small, neatly folded pile of clothes. 

“Mel gave these to me,” you said, following her gaze. “She said that they don’t really fit her anymore.” Abby only blinked at you incredulously, not understanding. If she hadn’t just woken up, she would’ve known what you meant. “You know. Because of the–” You trailed off, using your hand to make an arching motion over your own stomach, as if to represent a pregnant belly. “–the baby.”

“Oh. Yeah.” Abby looked away, running a hand absently over her braided hair. “Makes sense. That was… nice of her.”

You nodded, falling quiet as Lev and Yara’s voices grew louder just around the corner, the two of them still arguing.

“I can’t believe she’s on her feet already,” Abby said after a minute.

Your worried look gave way to another small smile. “Yes, well, Yara’s always been tough.” 

There was so much that Abby didn’t know about you. And Yara and Lev. And about your history together. She’d been picking up on bits and pieces of it, especially yesterday with Lev. It had taken some time, but he definitely started opening up to her as they traveled to and from the hospital.

He had even turned things around on Abby and asked what was going on between you and her. And he seemed to find it funny when she got flustered and dodged the question entirely. 

But you had not been such an open book. And Abby wanted to know more. She wanted to know everything. 

She just didn’t know where to start.

“What are they fighting about?” she asked instead. 

“Lev is worried about their mother,” you explained, just loud enough for Abby to hear. “About what’ll happen to her because of them.”

“Should he be worried?” she asked.

“He needs to focus on his own safety right now.” 

“What could happen to her?” If she had to guess based on what she knew about the Seraphites, it couldn’t be good.

You looked away. “Sometimes parents are held responsible for their children’s sins. But their mom is so devout that she’ll probably be fine.”

“Are there options? For helping her?”

You frowned. “Lev wants to go back to the island to get her. But he would never be able to convince her to leave. I’m not even sure that I could, and I’m–”

“The Prophet?” Abby finished.

You moved on without acknowledging that truth. “Yara and I are more worried about what she might do to him.” Before she could think of a response to any of that, you looked back at her, shaking your head like you were shaking those thoughts away. “They’ll work it out. Lev’s not unreasonable.”

“He’s a kid,” she said frankly. “I’m not an expert, but aren’t kids supposed to be hard to reason with, especially when they’re emotional?”

“He’s a Seraphite,” you corrected her. “Seraphites are never really kids.”

Again, Abby felt the urge to ask you to explain, to tell her more about what you meant by that. 

“I could use your help with something–” you said, hesitant, “–if you wouldn’t mind. I would ask Yara, but she’s occupied. And she’s also down one arm.”

“Yeah,” Abby said, sincere and probably far too eager. “Of course. What do you need?”

You smiled gratefully and gestured for her to go back into the room where you had all slept. She followed without question, shutting the door behind her. 

“It’s kind of embarrassing.” The look on your face told her that you wouldn’t be asking if you didn’t have to. “It’s this dress,” you said. “It isn’t meant for me to be able to take it off myself. One or two of my attendants would always have to help.” And then you turned, just enough to draw Abby’s attention to the back of the dress, where there was an admittedly overly complicated looking corset thing going on. It looked cool, but yeah, she could see how it would be difficult, if not impossible, for you to undo it by yourself.

“They might as well have sewn me into it,” you added, doing your best to look at it over your shoulder. Then you turned back to face her. 

She took a beat before she found her voice. “You have attendants? Like maids?”

You shot her an exasperated look. “I had attendants. But they are on the island and I am here, and it’d be really great if someone would help me get out of this thing once and for all.”

“Yeah yeah, I got it,” Abby said, smiling now. “Turn back around.”

You sighed but did as you were told, tossing the pile of clean clothes on the couch for the sole purpose of being able to cross your arms over your chest. Abby chuckled, surprised but amused by your sudden attitude. 

She stepped up behind you, taking a closer look at the fabric contraption that had you trapped in this dress. It suddenly occurred to her that, in order to help you with this problem, she would have to get very close to you… And that she’d have to touch you… And that this would inevitably end with you taking off your clothes. Hell, she was (technically speaking) the one who would be undressing you.

She cleared her throat and tried – not for the first time that day and probably not for the last – to get her thoughts under control. You weren’t coming on to her. You just needed help. You probably would’ve been just as likely to ask Mel to do this. 

Abby shifted on her feet behind you, lifting her hands to start what was sure to be a very long untangling process, but she paused before actually touching the fabric that hugged your back. “Can I…?” she asked. It felt important to have your permission before she touched you. 

“Hmm?” you hummed, glancing over your shoulder before you realized what she meant. “Oh. Yes. Please.”

A thrill shot through her at the sound of you responding to her request to touch you with please.

God, there had to be something wrong with her.

No one – genuinely not one single other person in her whole life – had ever had this effect on her. 

She got to work on the dress, trying to convince her stupid, horny mind that the ribbons and fabrics beneath her fingers were not, in fact, attached to your body. She was unsuccessful.

“Jesus, they really did not want you getting out of this thing,” she huffed. “What? Was trapping you in your clothes their way of keeping you chaste?”

Since when did she say shit like chaste? It did sound like some bullshit the Seraphites would do though.

To her surprise, you laughed. “I think the idea was more likely to keep me dependent on others. Trapped both physically and mentally, you know? … It’s a dress, Abby. You don’t exactly have to take it off to have sex.”

Abby’s fingers stilled, her eyes went wide, and her face warmed. And she was glad you were facing the other way so you didn’t see any of it.

She changed the subject before she did anything stupid, like ask you literally anything else about that subject. “So… have you always worn this dress?”

It was a stupid question, but it’s the first thing she could come up with under these conditions.

“This exact dress, no,” you said. She could tell from your voice that you were smiling, and she couldn’t be sure but she thought you might be teasing her. “But some version of it, yes. Since the day I turned twelve. New ones were made for me as I grew and if they tore or got dirty, but it was always something like this.” You paused for a few seconds before going on. “It’s strange. I haven’t worn pants in eight years. I’m kind of excited.”

Abby couldn’t imagine being excited to wear Mel’s hand-me-down pants. But she also hadn’t been forced to wear the same virtually inescapable dress for nearly a decade. The thought alone made her chest feel tight. 

She had made a small amount of progress with the dress, but not as much as she would have wanted, and she was getting frustrated with the whole thing. She yanked on something that she thought would loosen it, but ended up making it much tighter. You let out a sharp hiss.

“Sorry,” Abby said quickly. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to do tha–”

“Do you want to just cut it off of me?” you asked, spinning around to face her again, clearly even more eager and annoyed than she was. 

“Umm.” Abby thought her brain might be shutting down entirely. “Yeah. I can do that. If you’re sure you’re not gonna want to wear it again.”

“I’m not going to want to wear it again,” you confirmed.

Neither of you had taken a step back when you turned around, which left very little space between you. Something that Abby was painfully aware of.

“Okay,” she said, voice low. “Then I guess I’m cutting you out of the dress.” But she didn’t move from where she stood, just a breath away from you.

You were the first to move, walking over to where you had all dropped your stuff yesterday and returning with your dagger. 

“Here.” Face unreadable, you offered the deadly blade to Abby handle-first. She took it as you spun back around.

She gripped the dagger’s hilt in her hand tightly. The trust that you must’ve had in her, to hand over your weapon and willingly turn your back to her… It made her feel brave.

Or maybe she had bravery and stupidity mixed up.

Abby began carefully cutting through the same ribbons that she’d previously been attempting to untie.

“Are there rules,” she asked, trying to sound nonchalant, “about abstaining from sex? I’ve read about a few Old World religions that were strict about that.” 

You were entirely unfazed by the question. “Seraphites have rules for everything. Some of them always made sense to me. But most of them are ridiculous. Meant only to ensure that our Elders are able to maintain complete control.” 

The top of the dress loosened and began to sag as Abby continued to slice through the offending constraints, until it was only held up by the straps. She had done enough for you to be able to easily get out of it. If you were to let those straps fall from your shoulders, the whole thing would fall to the floor, gathering at your feet. 

She looked away from the smooth expanse of skin in front of her and tried to force that image out of her mind. 

“Should be able to get it off now,” she said, deciding that it would actually be better for her to take several steps away. 

An earnest ‘thank you’ came from your lips as you grabbed the new clothes from the couch. You didn’t ask her to turn around, but she did anyway. And she was decidedly not thinking about what was going on behind her.

“To answer your question from before,” you began as you got dressed. “Yes, there are rules about that, but they’re wildly unimaginative. We are not permitted to be alone with someone of the opposite sex – outside of our family members – until a spouse is chosen for us. At which point, that person becomes a family member. So technically, we’re never allowed to be alone with someone of the opposite sex.”

“That sucks,” she threw out, not knowing what else to say as she stared at a random stain on the wall and forced herself to wonder how it might’ve gotten there.

“Probably. For most people. But I never really had a problem with it.” Your voice was much closer now, just behind her.

“Why not?” Abby’s question of if it was safe to turn around yet was answered with the light touch of your fingers against her wrist, trailing down to meet the dagger still grasped in her palm. She relinquished the knife to you, letting her hand linger against yours as she turned to face you, taking it all in.

You were, indeed, wearing pants. And also a shirt. And they both fit you pretty well.

And you were beautiful. There was always that.

You passed the dagger from your right hand to your left, and the look of determination on your face was nearly the same as it was moments after she first saw you. When Abby was hanging by her throat and you were going to kill her. Only this time the feeling coursing through her body wasn’t fear. It was anticipation. 

Whatever you were planning to do next, she wanted it. 

“Why not?” Abby had asked a minute ago.

“Because I’ve never had any interest in the opposite sex,” you answered as your right hand found its place against her jaw.

Time slowed as you stood there for a moment, holding a dagger in one hand and Abby’s face in the other. 

She thought you might kiss her. She was hoping you’d kiss her.

And then the door flung open and your hand fell to your side.

Yara was crying or yelling or both, and it took Abby way too long to process the words she was saying.

“Lev’s gone! He took a boat! He’s going back to the island!”

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Note: This chapter is a bit shorter than usual, but it felt good to end it here for now. Also, I want you to know that I'm dedicated to finishing this fic, and I know exactly where I want to go with it, so expect more updates soon!

Taglist: @h0meb0dyi @lmaoo-spiderman @quinnsadilla @rew1nds @sapphicontherun

[wolfythewitch]

Hiui it is 8am and I'm on the zcholl bus and my broam has not shut up about them

There's a lot of discourse about the achilles portrayal in the song of achilles which I agree with for the most part because the sanitization I feel erases the suffering of women and slaves the period was built on by minimizing the raping and violent nature of war hero achilles that Homer wrote - - however, I don't think tsoa ought to be read as a stand alone; tsoa is entirely written from patroclus' pov and I think that idealisation of the man is brilliant because of how grossly codependent they were

I think I really liked one redditors take on it, being [in context of 'the silence of girls'; a breseis pov of the iliad, where in achilles participated in the culture which used her as a bed slave of war] The tsoa protector achilles which defended women who mattered to him and was endlessly devoted, and the achilles that was complacent in the ritualistic abuse of the women he enslaved by pillaging their homes are both coexisting, and possibly one and the same

I personally view the Greek cast as sort of vocaloids, they're tools by which we understand the culture of the ancients, the way we envision their interactions is just a means for our practicing the pragmatics of how we come to understand the period

Okay frankly I'm not the best person to discuss this because I've only read like half of tsoa, but there's two disagreements I have I guess, based on what I Have read

One, as much it's not meant to be a standalone or something like that (to me, it is meant to be a standalone), because of its popularity in contemporary media it is being taken as one, and many people will have Achilles and Patroclus' image forever frozen as tsoa' portrayal. God knows how many comments I've gotten on my videos treating tsoa as fact. I can't really blame the author for that, but it is what it is.

Two, the idealization of man through patroclus' eyes would hold more weight if himself was not changed for the narrative either. Patroclus was a soldier, he was a healer, and he also had his fair share of women (who he slept with). Both of them did. Violence was not shied from, and slave women were war prizes. There are these insidious little rewrites throughout the story to further the narrative of Achilles and Patroclus' only loving each other, and in turn erasing what they've done to the other women in the story. (Taking in slave women because they wanted to save them is. A choice.) Deidamia in the myths, they range from at best her and Achilles falling in love to the point of intimacy, and at worst Achilles raping her. In tsoa, Thetis forced Achilles to sleep with her. Deidamia also forced Patroclus to sleep with her. That flip in the narrative is kind of fucked up, seeing as how both in the myths and in tsoa Peleus raped Thetis.

Trying to make a statement that it is written through the idealized eyes of man, well it doesn't really work here. If anything, it feels more like an author writing with the intent of not having her MCs be morally reprehensible. So Patroclus cares when the plot demands it (saving briseis, outrage when she is taken away. Asking Achilles to save the other slave girls) and not when it doesn't affect him (talking about his mother nonchalantly, questioning why thetis hated Peleus when he also acknowledged how Peleus was involved in her rape).

[seat-safety-switch]

"If I got shot by a dog," my partner began, "would you avenge my death?"

We both knew the answer. Dogs are the perfect creature, entirely blameless for any perceived offence. To hold one of nature's ideal beings responsible using our corrupt series of flawed laws would be a moral crime in its own right. If anything, we would be the oppressors.

"No," I barked towards the Caprice's dashboard.

Working in Animal Control had become significantly more difficult after those scientists figured out how to give dogs the power of speech. Suddenly, they were no longer our beloved companions. It turns out, all these years, dogs had just been going along with it because they didn't really understand how the law worked, and didn't seem to want legal personhood. Then they did. Things went downhill from there. You ever tried to deny a gang of vicious Dachshunds the fruits of their labours?

It's not what I signed up for, is all. What I wanted to do was help doggies and kitties get back to their loving homes. Turns out that makes me a bad guy. And that's exactly what I looked like that fateful night that I responded to a break-in at the old atomic laboratory.

"Bad dog! Drop that Strontium-90!" I yelled at a Schnauzer, my shaking hands holding a can of mace.

Suddenly, I was blinded by lights. Studio lights. It was a sting, set up by the local TV news to capture anti-canine brutality. I lost my job, and my attorney made me do a bunch of speeches to the kids at the newly-mixed high schools, explaining why what I did was a hate crime.

All I can say is that it's a good thing cats weren't interested. They knew they were at the top of the social pecking order already. Sorry, force of habit. I know magpies are trying to get the vote.

[queenendless]

CRIMSON

A/n: I legit don't know how to title this piece. Inspired by @xo-romiiarts and their artwork.

Also Guns for Hire by Woodkid fits this piece so listen to it while reading this or any song that gives dark!GoGe vibes.

CW ⚠️ : 4.7k worded piece with DARK MATURE themes/depictions of murder/genocide, teen dropouts/runaways, angst, hurt/comfort, romance/fluff, already established poly!teen!GoGe x fem!teen!curse seer!reader, set in an AU where the guys did go through with it ... you have been warned. ⚠️

Cause #261 and fanarts of Gojo saying yes to Geto have given me the push to finally get this out. I have been working on this since September of LAST YEAR SO I hope yall enjoy this.

And I'm working on a pt 2 to this set a few months to a year later of the aftermath. Cause Lord, Clan Head Gojo x Cult Leader Geto x Reader but they're dark now kinda I wanna explore in my own way. With them kids. Their kids. And scene.

*DO NOT REPOST, TRANSLATE, COPY, EDIT, PLAGARIZE, AND OR STEAL MY FANFIC WORK. Rather if you enjoy my fan work, then reblog, like, comment, n follow pls n thnx u.

"You're late, Suguru."

Indeed he was.

"No … I guess you got here fast. There are several Star Religious Group facilities in the city, after all."

Something felt seriously off the moment the snowy-haired sorcerer raised his head.

"Satoru? Is that you?"

The look in his eyes … practically radiating their potent rebirth … a stark contrast to the fading scuffs of blood running down the left half of his face, down both sides of his mouth, weariness evident.

"What happened?"

This was not his Satoru. This one … had seen hell first hand. In a twisted way, they both have today. Literally at death's door.

"I see you already saw Shoko."

"Yeah, she healed me. I'm fine now."

And yet, a long sleeved uniform arm slipped out from under the sheet, swaying a bit til staying still as a lifeless corpse would be.

"No … me being safe doesn't help anything here."

Not when he failed to keep their promise to Riko-chan. She was ready to walk away from the merger with him. Choosing to live for herself rather than follow her pre-chosen fate. Yet, fate had other plans. A cruel one, at that.

"I screwed up. You're not at fault." Gojo sounded so blunt, so calm … willing to accept all the blame for their greatest failure yet.

"Let's head back."

An eerie ringing began penetrating Geto's hearing as the clapping kept going. He chalked that up as an explanation as to why he thought he misheard Gojo's next words.

"Suguru, should we kill these guys? The way I feel right now, I doubt I'd feel anything about it."

As the form of Gojo carrying Amanai's draped body was being overshadowed by the pure white radiance of the smiling clapping cultists, Geto's morality dilemma prodded his mind, unable to meet Gojo's gaze.

"No. There's no point. It looks like there are only common believers here. The masterminds who know about our world have probably fled already. And unlike with the bounty, they won't be able to talk their way out of this. The organization had problems to begin with. It'll be dissolved soon enough."

Geto, standing in the pure white room of morality, starkly contrasted Gojo as he brushed past him and stood in the crimson room of immorality.

"No point, huh? Does there really need to be any point to it?"

Does there need to be a rhyme or reason for them to act on this? Ideally yes. They may be above the laws in most cases, but even sorcerers can't enact vengeance on regular humans. Unless they were curse users or even like the Sorcerer Killer, they couldn't lay a hand on them.

Realistically?

Right now?

The clapping grew louder, mocking him. Antagonizing him.

Gleefully celebrating her death and their own damaged, traumatizing failure.

Geto's left hand curled into a fist.

His morals were conflicting with his personal feelings; his fist shaking in restrained emotion.

His almond eyes, weariness tainting his eyebags, finally looked up.

Out at the clapping, smiling crowd.

"It's very important that there is. Especially for a jujutsu sorcerer."

Even the cruelest scum of the Earth get away scot free, never facing retribution. Darkness grew underneath him, outstretched to reach their seemingly untouchable light, as his fractured moral code made way for his true inner self to finally show its true colors.

"But not us …"

Gojo stiffened. Slightly looking back over his shoulder, peering inside the open doorway, his radiating Six Eyes turned on at the darkened gaze of Geto's eyes slightly looking back in return.

"Not today."

Rage and distraught guides him.

He would right this wrong.

To the bloody damn end.

Now triggered by those firm, final words, Gojo's heightened state strengthened as he set Amanai's body down gently on the hallway floor, the anger he didn't feel on her behalf in his rematch against the fallen Zen'in man was finally making its appearance, intertwining with an unhinged drive for chaos in his blood as a twisted gleam overtook his lips.

Survival of the weakest. Discouragement of the strong. That's how society should be; one where jujutsu sorcerers protect non-sorcerers. That's what he always strived to uphold despite his inner demons. But now… they as sorcerers still failed in the end.

Riko-chan, Kuroi-san, the weak but good ones, now dead by the orchestration of these unforgivable heinous —

"Monkeys." Having seen that monkey assassin's standing corpse himself on his way inside; decimated and dripping with bloodied spilled guts, made Geto wish he could deal the killing blow himself back in Tengen's domain.

This would have to do, feeling ready to puke when he uttered the same word as that scarred mouthed bastard, wincing as the shadowed hole he summoned released his newest curse.

The same cursed worm draped over his shoulder, opening its mouth to pop out the handle of a cursed tool, one Geto pulled out as swiftly as Gojo began ascending to heights unbound, slicing the cursed energized blade through the air as tears sprung from his unforgiving dark eyes.

"DIE!"

Those monkeys' glee changed to confusion then bursting out in waves of panic as the blade grew in length the more Geto spread his cursed energy into it.

Several heads got sliced sideways, splattering blood over some's prime white apparel, kicking off the shrill hysterics.

In an instant, Gojo blips out of sight only to plow through a row of them scurrying ants in his way like the cursed speedster he had become.

Blown off head chunks.

Fists jutted right through their torsos right and outta their spines.

Setting off carnage filled piñatas left and right.

Trained on every weakling in his sight, Gojo's uniform grew darker as more blood seeped further in with each blow.

Reappearing as he grabbed a randomly chosen neck, snapping it in two with ease, before blocking a panicking one that tried socking him from behind, glowing eyes narrowed in as he clenched their fist before ripping their arm right off with swift ease. Their tortured screech is heard one moment, the sound of bones crunching in Gojo's other hand the next.

Through hatred fueled adrenaline, Geto cleaved in them guts to match the mutilated limbs that rolled across the crimson spreaded floor.

Those attempting to flee were squandered as the force field of Limitless smooshed them, splattering the now cracked dented walls; minced red.

Many more sunken noggins soared in the air, sprinkling red from on high.

Screams and splatters became the symphony of Pandemonium.

Flinging the chain around the neck of one, Geto swung them like a chain and ball, crushing many others against the walls.

Those petrified hideous faces get their brains ruptured out; globby chunks vomiting out by mere cursed thought.

Many rammed right into the glass window ceiling, sending cracks racing in its wake, the pure white sunlight becoming a neon red.

Shards of glass rained down, deflected by Limitless as the pair found themselves back to back, watching with callousness as many were skewered like porcupines.

Limbless lumps of lifeless flesh plastered every inch of the once pristine interior from every wall, crevice, and even the ceiling had scarlet drenching it.

Their haggard breaths and sweaty burning faces aside, their dark craving for retribution still lingered in them both.

It wouldn't be enough.

Not until every last member was eviscerated.

Dismissing the worm, Geto scanned the room, trembling at the grotesque aftermath.

His cerise painted hands hung limply at his sides.

Amiss the madness, their residuals were there.

Fortunately they knew to an extent how to hide them. However long those held out, they couldn't waste a moment. Any longer than that spent here meant capture followed by immediate execution.

Feeling himself moving by a firm grasp tugging on his hand, his light headed state transitioned to a frigged one over what they had just committed. The solid squeeze of Gojo's sizzling hand helped pull him further out of his own unsteady mindset.

"Satoru …" He internally felt revolted at having those monkeys wretched blood covering his skin.

"Suguru."

Through the path of red, his closest friend – his ally in genocide – turned to him with cherry-red streaking his unbuttoned jacket and the collared white undershirt, for his glowing – exhausted – eyes were scarred with the brutal truth. Reaching his stained, steadfast hands out for that stained lost face, Gojo rested his forehead against Geto’s, staring into those stricken eyes of one of his most greatest treasures.

"Come with me. Let's get away.”

Blood trickled down from the ceiling, spilling along their hair, staining their faces, but both couldn't care less as they sealed it with a kiss. Lost in the bloody euphoria, relishing in one another's warmth.

The new taste of searing iron overtook the repelling flavor of cursed spirits, overwhelming the pair as Geto clawed at Gojo's back and the latter's hands massaged the former's supple cheeks, bringing muffled moans outta them both.

It feels right … anywhere … as long as it's with each other. It's just right.

Wherever they end up, whatever it may be, may it be nowhere near here whenever whichever sorcerers would be sent to investigate this now scene of massacre.

Once partners in sorcery.

Now partners in crime.

What a send off for them, the newly dropouts.

The clapping halted.

The ringing faded.

Their hearts felt lighter.

But something still felt off.

Someone was missing.

"Y/n." Geto's eyes opened to stare into Gojo's as they parted lips. "We can't leave her behind … we can't …"

Knowing their cursed seer partner probably foresaw the bloody chain of events that had recently just transpired in the last few hours. But knowing how abrupt they can be, maintaining and willing them into your mind’s eye was still a burdening struggle, ergo you being left behind at school for tiring training.

The heavy fog of bloodlust and tension between them lifted for now Geto's eyes lightened at sensing that familiar presence. He knew Gojo sensed it as well, for his glowing eyes followed his lead, taking Riko back in his arms, the duo raced to the surface outside.

You had ran outta the car that dropped you off down the street. You gulped to stifle back the bile at the gory sight of the fallen Zen’in still standing; the bloody puddle reaching for you now.

Your gaze averted once you spotted them coming out, hurrying over, your stomach churning at how scrapped up and red they appeared, but your empathy outweighed the disgust as Geto caught you in his heavy weighted grasp.

The fear in Geto's eyes mingled with confusion and concern. "Y/n … I … we –!”

Gojo’s eyes slanted as you kept your face hidden. "Did you get a vision?”

Your shaky nod against Geto’s chest paired with your ashamed tone. “I was too late … I,” An anxious pause of silence stretched between you three. “Shoko told me where you were headed after healing you … then came another one … of course you two would get Riko’s body back …”

They waited for the heart shattering blow. The final nail in the coffin. You shunning them away, cutting ties immediately. Rejecting them for their heinous act. Fleeing away in horror to Jujutsu High, reporting their sorry asses and ousting them as traitors. All the above — !

“The system would have let these zealots slip through the cracks. They … their assassin … they all deserve to rot in hell for what they've done … all because of Tengen … Kuroi and Amanai have been avenged.” Your callous tone kinda threw them off a tad bit.

Geto gulped. “You … You're okay with it?”

Your head finally rose up, the glossy layer to those e/c eyes sparkled from the sliver of sunset. "I know I can't make up for letting you all down … and no amount of apologies can redeem my blunder … but I can do this at least. I'll bring her back to the school, back to Kuroi-san. They deserve to be laid to rest together.”

You reluctantly pull away from Geto’s warmth; uncaring about the red stains smearing your clothes now, to take the wrapped up body as Gojo gently passes her into your arms, melancholy heavy on your face but the strength of resolve aiding you in carrying her. “My place is with you two. Always. Now more than ever.”

Geto’s eyes pricked with burning warmth; your willingness to stay despite everything, as he kissed your temple. “We should be apologizing to you.”

“There's still more of those facilities in the city left standing. We're not finished just yet.” Gojo's voice spoke doom for their upcoming targets, a stark contrast to his own kiss to your forehead being so sweet.

“They all need to go. Every single one of them.” Geto clenched his veiny hands, determined to see this through to the end. “We will return for you. If you wouldn't mind packing our things for us by the time we show up …”

You nodded, sadly smiling. "Don't keep me waiting too long.”

Their brisk nods to you paired with smooches to your cheeks were all you were given before you watched them holding hands then warping away.

The driver stayed silent as they drove your contemplative self, keeping her cold self close to your warmth, back to school for the last time.

°•○•°•○•°°•○•°•○•°°•○•°•○•°°•○•°•○•°°•○•

The sun had set.

Crimson painted the sky.

A young girl's life ended by a gunshot to the head.

Two young teens, forced to face the cruel reality of their lives through near death.

The Star Religious Group Headquarters.

House of the Children of the Star.

Their monotheistic religion spent worshiping their absolute God; Tengen.

Crossing the wrong sorcerers, nearly costing them their lives in the process at the hands of their hired assassin; the Zen'in clan failure.

Their facilities left as ruins scattered in ruble, collapsed craters layering the grounds, red painting the toppled stone and marble.

The trauma of near death, failing to keep their promises to protect their friends' lives, and losing to a physically gifted human … their pride as the strongest duo now tarnished.

Retribution.

Selfish desires made to fruition.

With Riko-chan now gone, the assimilation was now void.

Tengen-sama had evolved.

The barrier hiding the school's location was weakened and easily spotted by the Six Eyes.

You solo carried Riko to the morgue, spotting your senpai and fellow kouhai watching you from the distance, ignoring your driver hurriedly running to inform Yaga-sensei of the turn of events, but only making eye contact with Shoko as she was standing out front by the entrance, already expecting you, prepared for the worst.

You two stayed silent, understanding exactly just from seeing the acceptance in your gaze.

Seeing the covered bodies laying side by side on the tables, you prayed over the mother daughter pair, believing the guys would stop by to do the same, hopefully.

As you just finished zipping up one of three duffle bags meant for each of you in your room, you felt the ripples through the Force that is cursed energy.

The fuse was lit. The air pricked with sparks as those two set off a chain reaction.

You could visualize the facilities up in flames.

“You really are idiots.” Shoko leaned against the open doorway, smoke in her disapproving frown. “To think they'd go this far … and you're bailing with them.”

“My whole world ended when I lost my mom. My dad was a broke ass deadbeat. Then I was discovered, brought here and met you all. You became the family I needed … so I thought that was enough. But those two … they're my everything. We ride or die together. You can join us or stay here. That goes for you two as well, ya know.”

You felt Haibara and Nanami hiding behind the wall before joining Shoko in the sliding doorway. By the looks on their faces, the news spread like wildfire.

“If I go with you guys, then the higher ups will force my sister to take my place.” Haibara frowned at the guilty truth.

“Rules and regulations keep us in line, as much as they suck.” Nanami sulked.

“Those old cods view us all as disposable tools. We're not heroes. We have our own ideals, desires, lives even. And if it means I may die down the line because I choose to walk away, then I'd rather die with freedom than serve them as their obedient lapdog.” You spoke devotedly.

“I don't get it.” The blunt tone and her aversion to eye contact made you realize how left out Shoko still felt that her two crazy guy friends were willing to leave them – leave her – behind.

“It'd be nice to have you by our side Ieiri … but I know you still have Utahime to consider.” You grinned at seeing the tiny pink tinted rise to her cheeks.

“You're our classmates! To have you and our senpai be branded as curse users, I don't want to have to fight you guys!” Haibara's angry tears made your heart waver. Your own eyes burned with cursed energy.

The static film reel of seeing your guys getting savagely brutalized, Riko and Kuroi's murders, even further down the line … glimpsing Haibara scarred and pale and so damn still —

“You're still our friends. Always.”

Even with glistening chibi eyes and stubbornly pursed lips, Haibara realized you had made up your mind, reaching Nanami's hand to squeeze and be his anchor.

“It's not a crime to be a kid, but the accumulation of life's little despairs make you become an adult. Remember that.” Nanami understood that much, knowing the guys are capable of setting the world on fire when pushed too far. Like so.

Blinking back tears yourself, you nodded. “If you ever need us or change your mind, you know how to reach us.”

Throwing the duffle bags outta the window before jumping out yourself took them all by surprise. Jutting their heads out, they were relieved yet anxious spotting Geto's manta ray cursed spirit flying away, the bags and you safe across his lap and wrapped up in his arms.

His crestfallen gaze back at them was the last sight of him they received when they also spotted Gojo floating on high, gazing at them with melancholy, the living example of Nanami's parting words to you.

Knowing deep in your intuition they snuck into the morgue to pay their final respects to Riko and Kuroi before retrieving you, you kept quiet about it, trusting them wholly to catch you as well.

On that day, everything changed.

On that night, there was no turning back.

But to both yours and Geto's surprise, the boldness of Gojo as he landed right by you both on the manta ray and grasped Geto's shoulder, his suggestion for a hideaway took your breaths away.

The empty private home – one of quite many – belonging to his family's clan; this one gifted solely to him. Even as fugitives, making such a bold choice to hide there, Gojo sure is a wild child.

Wading in the waters of the giant tub to wash away the blood, flushing the pink tinted liquid down the drain, then filling up the tub once more made way for some scented oil that helped elevate the tranquil vibes.

“You're certain?” Geto scrubbed his shoulder length sudsy hair, brushing his wet locks.

“The clan has too many spots all over Japan. We crash here tonight, take what we can to sell for cash in case the geezers fry our bank accounts, then high tail someplace new. Like say, I don't know, overseas?” Gojo's lax assurance transformed him into a chibi in Geto's point of view; resting his head and arms back against the tub's rim.

Almond eyes darkened, catching the scar stretching from Gojo's lithe neck, across that toned chest, and stopping by his hip poking out of the bubbly water.

Exhaustion smeared with piqued intrigue and guilt in those blue eyes spotting the X shaped scar on Geto's sculpted chest.

Red tints colored their faces as pleased sighs left their lips at the warm water loosening up their stiff muscles, fingers weaving through each other's slick hair, bringing their faces closer, brown meeting blue as they stared longingly at each other.

The unique connection ergo magnetic attraction was evident. From clashing freshmen to still bickering but budding sophomores. And now, as fresh genocidal dropouts, they both looked like they aged a lot.

The contrasts, the similarities, their yin yang dynamic.

That and the fuzzy warmth was getting to them.

“I'm really glad you're alive.” Geto nuzzled his nose against Gojo's.

“RCT for the win.” That albino pecked the corner mouth of his raven.

Their tired giggles relieved the tension.

Brushing their bare dripping shoulders together, lips connected, initiating timid soft touches. Drool connected their heated tongues, their heated breath fanning one another's face, oh so close, wanting more.

Your hums of content grabbed their attention as you waded over to them, watching your round cheeks blowing soapy bubbles into their faces.

Running your hands down their scars made your lips tremble at the agony they went through. Entrapped in their arms, you hummed as their lithe hands caressed your supple smooth skin for they were touched by your gingerly layered kisses along their tender marked flesh.

Toru's yawning broke out, worrying you and Sugu who suggested you all start drying up. Toru was the most exhausted being actively awake using Six Eyes for 3 days straight.

But you all were, mentally and emotionally.

The electric dryer rumbled as your wet uniforms swirled within. The AC hummed in the backdrop.

Duffle bags left open as you three laid in the enormous bed, you three snuggled in close on the center.

Setting up a small simple altar in honor of Riko and Kuroi in the room gave you all some peace of mind, especially when burning some smoky incense to cleanse the place. To pray and hope that their souls were in a better place than the hell they're stuck on called Earth.

“I detest humanity. Swallowing cursed spirits made from the worst parts of their very existence for so long confirms that. Killing those cultists put my mind at ease … as horrible as that must be to you.” Suguru's weary gaze shifted to meet Satoru's now unsettlingly calm ones as they laid atop the bed beside each other, clad in just boxers, with you splayed across Satoru wearing just a large tee you all shared just cause.

“You've been feeling this way for a long time, then.” Suguru flushed as Satoru weaved his hand through those silky obsidian strands, free from the metaphorical shackles of his usual restrained bun. “I'm sorry I didn't realize it.”

Suguru's cheek nuzzled his wrist, breathing in Satoru’s cozy scent. “I never wanted you to. Or anyone for that matter. These are my own feelings to grapple with.”

Satoru's messy cat hair shook, tickling Suguru's face, closing his stinging eyes to let them rest for the moment as their foreheads touched. “Well, now, we'll carry that burden together.”

“We're branded as curse users now … we're on our own from here … and you're fine with that?” Sugu was skeptical for the most part.

“I never held hatred for anybody before … not even over Amanai's death … but I always knew my life would be spent as a living weapon for jujutsu society … a monster. And now that I've crossed the line … there's no coming back from that … but I'd do it all again …if it mended the pain you felt inside. I just … I don't want you suffering in silence anymore. I never want to leave you behind.” That soothing voice of his cracked.

Suguru was breathless seeing red in those reopened agonized eyes.

“Still �� I took advantage of your heightened state and let my emotions cloud my judgment. I'm supposed to be the moral compass … yet I'm no better than those monkeys … and you nearly died because of them … I'm sorry Satoru … I'm so sorry.” Water hit Toru’s skin as the choked up weeping of his best friend smothered his shoulder.

“Hey, hey. I'm here, aren't I?” Keeping an arm wrapped around his partner, Satoru smooched the crown of Suguru's precious noggin, being tickled by those loose bangs in the face, shushing him and kissing that pierced ear of his. “And even you need to cut yourself some slack and lean on others too, ya know. And realize … you can't get rid of me that easily. You're stuck with this monster for a long time, Suguru~”

That possessive, enamored voice compelled Suguru to peak out and witness those lovesick eyes; the polar opposite to the tunnel vision of the reawakened Satoru Gojo that approached him with Riko-chan in his arms, struck right at his core.

The soft warm lamp on the side table paired with the sliver of moonlight between the curtains transformed their eyes into mini galaxies. Their own universe even to dwell in and share together.

“Hmm.” He brushed back Satoru's locks to spot the scar on his forehead and kiss that booboo. “You've never been a monster to me. Just a goofy idiot.”

Elated chuckles hit his giant lobed ears as his resident goofball pecked his blushing nose. “Your goofy idiot, smart ass.”

“Awwww~”

Flinching at that familiar voice, the guys directed their flushed gazes to you; your cheek mushed against Toru's pillow chest, fawning over them with your e/c eyes, round with sparkles and hearts set a glow in ‘em.

“I agree with all the above. Don't mind me. Just get it on with the yaoi goodness.”

“How subtle.” Suguru's eyes crinkled with mirth.

“She's got good taste, though.” Satoru's feline grin followed, rolling you both over to smush you in between them, pecking your forehead. “Period.”

You frowned. “All the apologies in the world can't make up for me letting you two down today.”

“Nonsense.” Suguru disagreed as the back of your head cushioned in between his plush pecs. “Having you here with us makes this shitty day much better.”

“We all screwed up.” Gojo griped before it became a longer deeper yawn.

Your eyes glowed a moment before dying down, alerting them and reminding you. “Time for you to sleep. Cause we got a lot of shit to think over on how to move forward. For all of us.” His exasperated sigh was met by your chaste lips as you leaned up to kiss him; him returning it to suck them up.

“Yes ma'am.” His pouting turned to a dopey grin; growing wider when Suguru kissed him goodnight too. That finally conked him out, breathing softly, when Suguru's hand wrapped around your side, turning you to lay on your back so he could see you properly; eyes clad in guilt of his own.

“Y/n, in no way should you feel responsible for what happened. That assassin would have killed you too if you had gotten involved. If we lost you as well …” His forehead met yours, letting you kiss him slowly, pulling him in to relish your personal taste. “My hope is that they're in a better place now.”

“Me too … My visions are just as much an omen as they are an aid. In this world there are no guarantees for a peaceful living … but I believe in you two … no matter what … and I know in my heart this is worth it, risks and all.”

Your honest smile made him grateful for accepting him, despite all that's happened, his tears hitting your face in response so you kissed his tears away.

“Thank you, Y/n.” His whispers met your lips as you two got caught up in another kiss when you two grunted in surprise as Satoru flipped you both over, smothering you two under his precious heat.

“‘M love you both, mmh so much.” He mewled, sleepy eyes peeking open to drowsily smile down at you two.

“Satoru, we can't breathe.” A red faced Suguru wheezed out.

Satoru languidly laughed, “My bad.”

Thankfully, you three were able to get some shuteye that night.

They're your whole world now.

Deep down inside, they know they're both monsters, for that day brought the truth to light of their dark potential.

But they're your monsters.

Your empathetic, devious, passionate monsters.

And as far as the truth goes, you too are just the same.

Three of a kind, indeed.

[alicentofficial]

re: my last post about jaime and alicent being parallels, i got an anon claiming they couldn't be similar because jaime as a man is privileged in ways alicent isn't since westeros is a patriarchy. this fact is correct! however! characters can have shared experiences, internal conflicts and dare i say, even themes, despite the fact that they are in different situations. let me explain why jaime and (show)alicent are similar characters.

rape/sa mentions below the cut

(1) okay so fundamentally jaime's thing is that he views himself as being sworn to so many conflicting ideals that he will never be able to uphold all of them. he is essentially in debt to so many people that anything he does will make him an oathbreaker. i think alicent views herself in a kind of similar way, only its through loyalty rather than oaths. hence that "i have endeavoured to serve both my house and my country etc" line because alicent basically FEELS like she has sworn conflicting oaths to everyone and everything around her - her father, her children, viserys, rhaenyra, the gods, the ideals of house targaryen, the abstract concept of what it means to be a "good woman" in society, and the list goes on, they don't call her Alicent "Where is Duty Where is Sacrifice" Hightower for nothing! both alicent and jaime see themselves trapped in moral paralysis because they are so concerned with what they are or should be loyal to, and as a result they are both constantly being eaten alive by guilt and self-loathing.

(2) both became deeply entrenched with the royal family at young ages whilst simultaneously living under their extremely ambitious hand of the king fathers. both fathers basically do not care who their children turn out to be and are only concerned with them as far as they can aid in his own ambitions. in jaime's case this was lessened by the fact that it was essentially divided between him and cersei, but tywin aggressively only gives a fuck about jaime as being the heir to casterly rock (hence his underlying insistence that jaime will do this despite the fact that he has sworn an eternal oath preventing it) - jaime does everything else to become tywin's lion-of-lannister golden boy but he will still never truly have tywin's love or affection or approval because tywin is incapable of that. otto basically pimped out his teenage daughter to viserys, and then after she spent 20+ years doing whatever he wanted he STILL doesn't respect about her, firstly because shes a woman, and secondly because he doesn't view her as a person, he views her as a political tool. and both of them are intensely loyal to said fathers and compulsively seek the approval which they know (on some level) is never coming.

(3) both of them have extremely complicated relationships with parenthood - alicent because her children are all products of her sexually abusive marriage, because she essentially grew up alongside them, and because they too are viewed as political tools more so than as people. as a result she's pretty emotionally cut off from them (struggling to connect with helaena, the unhealthy dynamic with aemond etc) meanwhile jaime can't ever openly acknowledge his children or act like a father to them and sees them as an extension of his relationship with cersei. alicent's feelings about aegon (and to a lesser extent aemond) are this weird dynamic where she loves him a lot and wants to protect him but is also aware that he's an abusive monster. in asos there's a jaime chapter after joffrey dies where he has this moment of awareness that joffrey is his firstborn son, and he kind of wonders if he should feel anything, but he can't bring himself to, basically because joffrey is also an abusive monster. he kind of awkwardly tried to bond with tommen at one point and seems vaguely fond of myrcella but can't really get himself to properly contemplate his feelings towards them either. for both of them parenthood is so wrapped up in all these other layers of pain and guilt that they struggle to have healthy, loving relationships with any of their kids.

(4) they both use copes - alicent with religion and jaime with dissociation - to essentially avoid engaging with their inner conflicts. jaime started dissociating to avoid having to deal with any of the injustices he saw around him i.e. listening to aerys raping rhaella and deciding he could absolve himself of his bystander guilt by "going away inside". meanwhile alicent uses religion as an outlet for her rage because when she throws herself fully into religion and convinces herself that she hates things because they're sacrilegious she doesn't have to confront her own trauma and anger. like a big part of why she hates rhaenyra's children is because they're physical manifestations of the freedoms rhaenyra has which alicent doesn't, but she's not emotionally equipped to deal with that, so the only option is to really really REALLY convinces herself that they're abominations cursed by the gods and thus she is justified in how she feels.

(5) okay here's where you have to hear me out. i think, narratively, jaime sees cersei's role towards him in a similar way to how alicent views criston. cersei and jaime's relationship is obviously built on the recurring themes of lannister exceptionalism and pseudo-incest within their house, but i also think jaime holds on to cersei as this symbol of pre-kingslayer him. she is his other half so when he knows that he's failed and become a terrible person, he can just hardcore project all his hopes of what he could have been onto her and see her as this paragon of beauty and love and nobility. and because of this he spends a lot of the series wilfully blind to the fact that their codependent relationship has turned them both into extremely violent and unstable people. to a certain extent alicent also projects a lot of her own childhood idealism onto both criston and rhaenyra - rhaenyra is literally her childhood girlfriend companion and i think because she's so emotionally stunted she's still obsessed with their relationship as like, the simplicity and tenderness of childhood before her marriage. hence why she seems so in denial about the fact that the war is about more than just their their relationship - but more so i think her relationship with criston is similar to that of jaime and cersei. (up until recently lol) i think she also saw criston as this white knight tragic courtly love figure because theyre BOTH still obsessed with the ideals of chivalry and knighthood and can reflect it back onto one another, whilst at the same time continuing to practice their own hypocrisy. she is basically (in a very jaime fashion) sticking her fingers in her ears to the fact that criston is deeply unstable and and punches people to death when he gets angry. both cersei and jaime's relationship and alicent and criston's relationship are essentially echo chambers that make them both worse while allowing them to view themselves and each other as idealised figures of the white knight and the noblewoman.

[rnn11203]

Sometimes i think about nishikis portrait on that wall, do you think kazama saw it and thought kiryu, his son, should be there instead? Did nishiki represent all of those hedonistic ways of so many yakuza? While kiryu was an extension of himself, his ideals, his morals? Was nishiki all the things he hated? Or was he that constant reminder of all the ruin he caused. Did he have any feelings towards nishiki at all? Was he still that sniffling boy who dug his hands into his pockets looking for candy? Did he dote on him the way he did kiryu? Did he mourn yuko? Or did he not even know? Something tells me it was only nishiki at her funeral. Im uncertain if there is any RGGO info on this, but id love to know if there’s any more details on Kazama and Nishikis relationship (also I couldn’t find anything about how old nishiki/kiryu were when they went to the orphanage too, I assume nishiki was a bit older though). I like to think Nishiki did not feel much familial relations towards.. well anyone except kiryu, yuko, and yumi. At best kazama and kashiwagi were mentors unlike kiryu who viewed them as a father and an older brother. I think it’s a bit different for them partly because nishiki had a sister, his “need” for family was already filled by both her and kiryu. I like to think Nishiki thought viewing kazama and kashiwagi as family was a bit silly but would entertain it for kiryus sake, it’s clear to me that Nishiki enjoyed the yakuza lifestyle while kiryu for a lack of better word, didn’t. So it makes sense to me that they were superiors to him and nothing more, he didnt owe them anything and they didnt owe him. Kazama and Nishiki have such an interesting dynamic partly because it is so non existent.. like yeah kazama… there was NOTHING you could’ve done huh? You really didnt see this one coming? It’s interesting how nishiki is kinda portrayed by the fandom to be a loser when by all accounts he was a very successful yakuza, hell, his family succeeded him by 3 games! I wish nishiki challenged kiryus perspective on kazama a bit more, we see kazama being questioned a few times in some of the games but kiryu always seems to brush it off… it makes me wonder.. what are these seeds of doubt being planted for? Kiryu? Or just the audience? As a protagonist it is nice to see kiryu being wrong but idk, at this point in the series i cant help but ask; what is it for? It’d be nice to see some growth from him…

Sorry this was mostly headcanons/random thoughts! Also i had this quick thought n dont want to make another post for it but i think its cool how nishiki is mainly defined by characteristics such as greedy, insecurity , jealousy, vanity, and anger. You can sorta tell which nishiki fans favorite characteristic is too, personally mine is his vanity. That slick hair and crisp suit really does it 4 me…… please god…… let me fumble him just once!!!!!!!!!

[queenvhagar]

Man, I loved Alicole in S1. The courtly love aspect really drew me in and the potential of both characters, individually and separately, made me excited for S2...only for it to fall apart completely. I wasn't expecting it to be The Princess Bride or anything, but damn. It felt like ridicule and even with Criston's speech to Gwayne in the "finale", I can't even muster enjoyment because it's so hollow after what we got in S2. I know it's supposed to be a tragedy but their characters have been written so weirdly that I cringe every time I see a picture or gif of them together.

At university I studied courtly love (l'amour courtois) as it existed in medieval French literature. Because in medieval times marriage, especially among nobility, was a political and economic affair, love was viewed oftentimes separate from marriage. One manifestation of this is courtly love, described as an experience between erotic desire and spiritual attainment, "a love at once illicit and morally elevating, passionate and disciplined, humiliating and exalting, human and transcendent" (from The Meaning of Courtly Love).

Some suggest core tenets to courtly love: that the love is illegitimate, furtive, adulterous in nature; that the male lover holds an inferior position to the woman, who is often elevated in station; that the man completes quests, trials, challenges in his lady's name; that there are rules and subtleties to it, similar to chivalry or courtesy (from Études sur les romans de la Table Ronde). Devotion, piety, and gallantry were valued characteristics.

Many stories portray this love, like Tristan and Isolde and the tales of Lancelot and Guinevere, as well as songs, such as dawn songs, or albas / aubades, poems that spoke of lovers parting in the morning before rivals or spouses discovered them. One such song is Reis Glorios by the "master of troubadours" Giraut de Bornelh:

The potential for exploring courtly love in relation to the pairing of Alicent Hightower and the knight Ser Criston Cole is vast and could have been a fascinating expansion of the relationship between the two as it existed in Fire and Blood. Whether it resulted in a physically consummation of the love or existed as a romantic and spiritual devotion between a noble lady and her knight, there was so much that could have been explored: how does each view the other as the personification of chivalrous ideals of honor, duty, loyalty, piety? How do the rules of courtly love and its secret, private nature influence the interaction between these two? How does their courtly love influence their motivations and the actions they take in their journey? And, if physical, how might each view this in the context of their vows, responsibilities, and their ideals?

The least likely scenario of all of this, when it comes to this pairing, is a situation in which a decades-long mutual admiration somehow evolves / devolves into meaningless physical consummation of the relationship, especially considering not only the illicit nature of such an affair but also the ideals that both characters hold in relation to duty, honor, chivalry, and their own relationship to sex.

Yet once again this is the writers interpreting the story through a solely modern lens. With this tale, they focus on a solely physical experience in the context of Alicent finally "getting off" after being in a loveless marriage all her life, and its purpose is 1) to position her in contrast to the mourning of the main character ie "look how selfish and evil Alicent is, having sex with Rhaenyra's ex while Rhaenyra looks for her dead son" 2) portray her as hypocritical and paint the conflict between the two women as somehow solely the result of jealousy for sexual freedom / hypocrisy at hating sexually free women while wanting it / achieving it oneself (despite this clearly not being the crux of the issues between these two women) 3) set her up to be responsible for the death of her own grandson and lighten / distract the moment of Blood and Cheese with the purpose to mitigate the blame put upon the actual perpetrators by having them have sex during the sequence, pointing the blame at her and Cole for not preventing the act set in motion by the actual perpetrators, removing her role in the actual event as it was written in the source material.

By taking this stance of a solely physical, using each other for sex, modern lens of the relationship between the lady and her knight, it misses out on a more accurate exploration of what love and sex really looked like in a medieval setting. The story truly suffers for it, as do these characters. Instead of an exploration of feelings, motivations, or the development of this relationship across decades, it is reduced to a one dimensional plot device created solely to make the characters look worse in relation to others.

Unfortunately this pairing is not the only part of the show to suffer from this pattern. The result is the world and characters feel incomplete and hollow, divorced from the setting, the logic of the universe, and the humanity of these characters. Nowhere is the "human heart in conflict with itself" that GRRM explores with his characters and stories. And really, courtly love would have been a phenomenal way to build upon the themes GRRM loves to incorporate into his stories.

[bonthefuckjourx]

Lucifer x Sinner!reader (Hazbin Hotel)

   SUMMARY: You wake up in Hell and realize you didn't make the cut into Heaven. You never did anything evil, but never believed in God. You wanted to live life by your own morals. Little did you know a group of hazbins would take you in and show you more kindness than anyone on Earth ever did. Then you met someone you never thought you would, Lucifer, the King of Hell. Then you did something you never thought you would, make a deal with the devil.

Word Count: 3300k+

WARNINGS: smut

A/N: I am so excited to give you guys this chapter! I feel like we are actually moving now. I've been wanting to write this non-stop, so hoping another update will be out tomorrow. In the meantime, happy reading!!

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CHAPTER THREE: I Did Something Bad

“I can’t believe he just kicked us out like that! I mean who the fuck does he think he is?”

Charlie was pacing back and forth in her office back at the hotel. The meeting went less than ideal as Heaven wasn’t forthcoming on her idea. Not only did they rudely kick us out and fling her papers everywhere, but they also increased the Extermination date. It put you on edge how much the angels enjoyed it. You spent the last extermination boarded up in a crate for the entire day. The screams of sinners and the laughter of the angels haunted you in your sleep.

            “I mean it makes sense that the first man alive was this egotistical asshole. “

You mentioned that quite a few men on Earth were like that as well. Of course, you were brushed off as Charlie wasn’t paying attention to anything but her own mumbling. After a few minutes Vaggie came into the office and you decided Charlie didn’t need you anymore for moral support. You closed the door behind you as you made your way up to your room. It had been a long day and all you wanted was to wrap up in your warm comforter. As you walked into your room you noticed a certain friend, Angel Dust, sitting on your bed waiting for you. His head perked up as you walked towards him.

            “Y/n you are not going to believe this. He sang to me, and of course I was upset, but he sang to me. No one has cared even to ever do that for me. Afterwards he was so understanding, and we took a walk together. I mean it’s like we’re practically dating.”

            Angel Dust wrung his hands has he watched you sit next to him on your bed.

            “Did you guys’ kiss at all?”

            “Well, no, but y/n I was so nervous, and for once this is something I want to work out. I can’t afford to mess it up.” He was nervous as he looked to you for support.

            “That’s a good thing. It means you really care. I’m glad you want to take things slow for once, it’ll be good for the both of you.” Your hand gripped his shoulder as you tried to comfort him.

            “Thanks y/n. I guess I just wanted confirmation that I’m doing the right thing. I really like him.”

            “I know you do. It’ll all work out I promise.” You laid back on your bed, closing your eyes briefly. It wasn’t long before he spoke up.

            “So how was your date with the King of Hell?” You opened your eyes, glaring daggers at him. In turn he was smirking at you expecting a response.

            “It wasn’t a date, and you know it. “

            “Well practically, right? You went over to his house, that’s close enough. Did ya do anything? Tell me how big the King’s cock-“

            “Angel Dust! Nothing even happened! We had some snacks and something to drink and we talked.”

            “You. Talked?” He looked at you as if he didn’t believe you. Perhaps he knew you too well by now. You caved in.

            “Well, we did talk, but he also touched my face again and when he looked into my eyes I just couldn’t look away and then next thing I know he’s leaning me over the couch and he’s kissing me and oh my god he just touched me, Angel. Something like that has never happened to me before. It left so different, so alive. It was like his magic was all around, intoxicating me.” You spoke with your hands as well trying to have him understand just how much everything was. You dropped your hands to your sides as you stared at the ceiling, waiting for a response.

            “That’s amazing y/n, but if you ever tell the story to someone else, I advise you to leave out the part where you mention his rival. I’m pretty sure he would be less than happy to hear God’s name coming off your lips rather than his.” A blush overcame your face as you thought of saying his name repeatedly in desperation. It’s horrible just how much he ended up in your thoughts. It’s even worse most of those thoughts are less than clean.

            “Angel, I don’t even know what to do. It’s like he’s a drug to me. Something about it feels so wrong, but so very right. I mean he’s Charlie’s dad, and Charlie also has a mom. Not to mention Lucifer is how many centuries old? I was only 21 when I died. I feel like we could never actually work out. We have so many differences, but there is the trouble between Heaven and Hell. Not to mention we are trying to rehabilitate into Heaven, right? I don’t know if I even want to at this point.” Tears welled up in your eyes at all the impossibilities.

            “Maybe you should take it slow then, like me and Husk. Just be friends.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

After Angel left you sat in your bed for a long while. Tears came and they went and eventually you even wrote a bit in your journal. Being friends made sense even though every part of you wanted more. It would be best to be friends until this whole thing with Heaven blew over. If you could convince yourself that you were just friends with him, then maybe you could convince Charlie this was a one-time thing. Speaking of which, you needed to stand up and actually go see her. Ten minutes later you found yourself in front of her bedroom door. You knocked waiting for her to open. Almost immediately it opened, making you wonder if the Morningstars had some more magic up their sleeves than you knew about.

            “Y/n. Hey come in.”

            “Sorry for not coming to you after we came back. I was emotionally tapped out.” You walked inside as she ushered you over to a sitting area she had. A small couch was on one side as a cushioned hair was on the other.

            “It’s okay I understand. However, you might want to explain what exactly is happening between you and my father.” She sat down on the chair leaving the small couch to you. As you set down you rubbed your sweaty hands on your thighs. Charlie looked at you expectantly.

            “Well as you know I really can’t go outside. It’s one of my fears after my death and I just go into panic mode. A couple of weeks ago when he visited the hotel, he found me near a balcony. I admitted to my fear, and he offered to help me overcome it. He brought me to his study. It has these huge windows that look over the city and in a way it helped. I asked him if he would help me with going outside in the future and he said he would. That’s how we ended up traveling together to the embassy today.”

            “That much I gathered but thank you for confiding in me. I understand it takes courage to bring up fears. You still didn’t explain to me, how do I put it, how my father became disheveled.” You looked away from her, baring an awkward smile, hugging your sides. She waited when you were ready.

            “Yes that… He teleported me to his mansion first. There was time so we talked, and one thing led to another. I don’t plan to continue these actions. I do want to become friends with him, but right now it’s too messy. Not to mention he’s your father and had a wife at some point I gather?...” You looked at her with a grimace hoping to not bring up hard feelings. Charlie didn’t seem to mind.

            “Oh that? They haven’t been together for most of my life. I do think it is a great idea you visit these feelings later. I’m all for following your heart, but for one we’re talking about rehabilitant you to Heaven! Not to mention he is my father and if anything does happen in the future, please encourage him to leave me out of it.”

You both ended up laughing together, satisfied with your talk. Your conversation turned to other things and before you knew it you two were chatting about anything and everything. Just like it used to be. There was a reason she chooses you to help her around the hotel. You shared very similar aspirations as her. The only difference was you were not hell born, although sometimes you wished you were. Sinners could not leave the ring of pride, not to mention hell born often thought less of sinners. They could be powerful yes, but sinners could only reproduce if they had a hell born. Many of them didn’t want to touch sinners. It was an afterlife, but it was apparently meant to be a punishment. Many things in the city weren’t there to make sinner’s lives easier.

Eventually you left to retire to your room as you both were becoming tired. You changed into your pajamas and plaited your hair for bed. Your cell phone rang then and as you glanced at it on your vanity you realized it was from Luci. You nearly fell out of your chair. The rings continued as you thought of what to say. You let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding and answered the call.

“Hi Luci.”

“Hey y/n. I know it’s late, but I just wanted to hear your voice. I’m sure you know; the nights are the longest.” He sounded tired and sadness tinged his words. You picked up your phone and ventured over to your bed. Laying down you set your phone on your chest as you stared at the ceiling listening to his voice.

“Yea I know about that all too well.”

“Can I ask you something?”

“Sure, Luci.”

“Do you ever feel like no matter how hard you try you make everything worse?”

“Sometimes.”

“Do I really make everything worse?”

“You helped make me feel better. Didn’t you?”

“I suppose.”

“Then no, you don’t make everything worse.” He let out a small sigh. There was silence for a long time. The only thing you could hear was his breathing trying to keep it together.

“It just feels like it. For centuries I’ve been stuck down here because I tried to give humanity free will. I tried to give them this gift to create and invent and live their lives in amazing, beautiful ways. But it backfired. They snatched what I gave them and threw it down the gutter.” He was speaking behind broken words at this point. The emotion in his voice threatening to break it.

“Luci that’s not your fault. You were doing something good. It’s not your fault the others didn’t agree.”

“Then there’s also Lilith. I thought we had something good. We had Charlie, a real family y/n, and then she left.” His voice wavered with every word. It was heartbreaking.

“I’m sorry she left, but you have Charlie and look at all the good she is doing. You made her for the better. “

“Yea I guess my daughter is pretty amazing.”

“I don’t know much about you and Lilith splitting, but anyone would be wrong to leave you. You deserve happiness even at your worst.”

“Thank you, y/n.”

“You’re welcome.”

You both sat there listening to each other’s breaths. Waiting for the other to break the silence once again. He spoke up first.

“Can I ask you something else?”

“Anything.”

“Can I give you a nickname? Like you gave me mine, Luci.” Your heart pounded in your chest. Friends can give each other nicknames, right?

“Seems only fair,” you spoke softly with a smile on your face.

“Duckling. Just like my best creation.”

“I love it.” Your heart was full, but ached at what you knew you needed to explain.

“Luci, can I ask you something?”

“Of course, my Duckling.” He sounded suave, confidence now in his voice.

“I need us to be just friends.” He sucked in a breath holding it across the line. There was silence for quite a while.

“I understand.” His voice was low now and cut off. The emotion gone. Had he become accustomed to shutting people out?

“Luci it’s not like that. I like you and I loved the time we spent together it’s just too fast. We barely know each other and there is turmoil between Hell and Heaven. I know it must be more than the extermination and I’m worried it’s going to be worse before it is better. Plus, the whole thing with Charlie, it’s a mess. But you’re my mess, together we’re this horrible pile of sin and lost hope. Just wait for me Luci, that’s all I ask of you.”

“Then I’ll be here waiting. Friends can still use nicknames, right?”

“Yes.”

“And talk over the phone late at night?”

“Sure.”

“Then tell me, what was Earth like?”

With that you and Luci talked for hours about anything and everything. From your music preferences to politics to even how high school was for you. He loved learning anything about humans. Thanks to him you all now could choose and oh how many choices did you have. You’re pretty sure any hobby you could think of you tried at least once. You told him about the instruments you played and art pieces you made. People you dated and people you hated. History was always so very interesting to you, and you relayed it to him in detail. Eventually it landed on the topic of religion and how Christianity seems more like a cult now then anything. He told you it had always been that way.

As the hours of the night ticked on, it became a good amount past midnight. You both were tired, but reeling on the energy you both gave each other. It was so nice to have someone to talk to again and bullshit with. He made you laugh, and he listened so very well. You would also ask him questions and you loved listening to his voice. This late at night it was a bit hoarse and husky as he spoke in a lower tone. He was tired that much was evident in his voice, but he also gave off other emotions. Those of adoration and love and home. Eventually his questions made an interesting turn towards your creative writing.

“So let me get this straight. People would write stories about fictional characters and then people like you would write completely different stories based on those characters?”

“Pretty much.”

“What did you write about?”

“Well of course it was mainly romance. I was such a sucker for fantasy romance. I wish I could get my hands on some here in Hell.”

“Romance. Interesting maybe I could give you some pointers here and there for another story. Totally platonic though.” You laughed out loud at the mischievous devil.

“That’s just like no homo.” You couldn’t stop laughing it was that bad.

“Just like what now.”

“I’ll tell you the story another time.”

“Alright Duckling. Let’s hear more about these stories. Come on I’m so interested!”

“Quite honestly these stories would be romance, and a good romance story needs to feel real. A.K.A most of them had sex. There’s something so carnal and intimate to it.”

“You know one of these days you’ll have to write me a story for me to read. I really want to see the genius at work.”

“Well, what do you want the story to be about?”

“I could just show you.”

“Now, now Luci. We’re friends, remember? You could just tell me.” He chuckled across the line and a blush crossed your face at your boldness. You are just friends! Friends can talk about these things, right? If you stay away from being physical with him it all should work out. You hoped.

“My story would start with a certain fallen angel and a beautiful sinner from his land.”

“That’s a good start. What else?”

“Well, he’d take her out to dinner, buy them an expensive bottle of wine to share, and chat about their daily happenings. As dinner would continue, he would stare into her beautiful eyes as he would knead her thigh under the table. She’d laugh and play it off with a blush crossing her face. At one point he would bring her hand up to his lips, kiss it, and tell her to slip off her panties. Hesitantly she would take them off, handing it to him under the table where he would hide them in his pocket.” His voice was laced with lust and made you tremble deep inside. Your deepest fantasies were coming to life with the sound of his words.

“And maybe on the way home this fallen angel would spread his wings and fly her across the city. She would hold onto him and whisper sweet nothings into his ears. When he would land, she would run her hands along his wings, daring him to keep them open.”

You could hear him struggling to keep it together on the other line. A small whimper left his mouth, and you wondered what he was doing. Wondered if you should do the same.

“He’d bring her inside, throwing her on his bed, taking in her beautiful form. His fingers would snap, burning off her clothing in angelic light. He’d use his tongue and lick over her neck and her breasts. Paying close attention to her nipples rolling them in his mouth. He’d kiss her deeply, running his tongue against her lips and nipping at her. His hands would run along her thighs, leaving little marks as his claws dug at her skin. She would be marked as his.”

Your breaths were matching his as you moved your own fingers to his imaginations. Soft moans rolled from both of your lips as you continued the story.

“She would wrap her arms around his neck, biting at the soft flesh there. She’d let him do whatever he wanted to her, and she left her legs open for his taking. She’d whimper and moan as he moved down towards her warmth gasping as he delved in. His tongue would roll between her folds, flicking up and down. Two of his fingers would explore and find the perfect spot and she would melt underneath his touch.”

“He’d take control then lifting her up from the bed. They’d find the nearest wall, pushing her up against it. He’d kiss her deeply as he lined up his shaft to her entrance. They would find a rhythm as she would wrap her legs around him. He would become undone. He would slow down and ease up, then increase speed and deepen the intimacy. At the end he would kiss her, mumbling intoxicating words as he wrapped his arms around her. She would hold onto him as if he was the air she needed to breathe. They would come together then, breathes slowing down as they listened to each other’s heart beating.”

In the end there was very little for you two to say. You were just friends but committed a dangerous sin. Neither of you cared but didn’t dare admit to it.

“Are we finished?” The man on the phone asked not wanting to face their consequences.

“I am, Luci.” You could swear you heard him let out a sigh of relief.

“Then that’s all that matters.” You rolled your eyes. This man never thought about himself.

“Are you as well?”

“When it comes to you, I don’t think I could ever have a different answer.”

Shortly after you two said your goodbyes, finally sated. An unspoken truth held in the air; you both knew nothing would ever be the same. You were spiraling down a fate you were afraid to face. You made a deal with the devil how could you think you would ever make it out alive.

For he was your Savior.

And you had a lot to repent.

[dangermousie]

Confession time - I find Miles Wei’s character more interesting that Li Xian’s.

It’s honestly The Double again for me - a female centric narrative about a driven woman with a terrible weak ex and a powerful new dude - and I find myself much more interested in the bad dude than the good one.

OK, before people come for my head, this doesn’t mean I find Peony husband a better person than the Envoy or that I ship him with FL (no thank you!), I just find him more interesting as a character for the same reason that I found Shen Yurong more interesting in The Double (tho in The Double, it was exacerbated by the fact that SYR and Princess Wanning actors gave the best performances in the drama - the mains were great but those two were another level. Here I don’t think Husband is giving a better performance than Envoy.)

You never truly know how Husband would act and which way he’d jump. He’s not the noble main character bound by the narrative restrictions (and censorship restrictions) within a certain path. And that is what makes him interesting to me - the complexity but also the uncertainty. I mean both actual MLs of The Double and Peony have a bit of an edge - Duke Su is dramatic and ruthless and starts out using FL and Envoy is dramatic, standoffish from FL and seemingly corrupt. But it’s a cdrama in this era, not a decade plus ago, we all know every minute they are actually good guys - no, Envoy is not actually corrupt and Duke Su is not actually murder happy - the former is saving the bribes for the people of treasury or w/e, Duke Su only kills death penalty people and both are super super duper loyal to the crown and of course would save the FL if she really needed it.

That makes them great husband material but it removes a lot of the tension I find interesting. No, a character does not need to be dark and/or unhinged for me to find them interesting - I loved 17 in LYF and am loving XXC in The Blossoming Love and those two are utter Boy Scouts - but it is hard to do in such a way they grab me.

Meanwhile secondaries are out there running free of confines of the moral messages which gives them an edge.

In the olden days, you could have MLs which were like this (I am thinking of Glamorous Imperial Concubine - the deliciousness of it was that Kevin Yan started ready willing and able to harm FL for his goals, not to mention all the “proper” historicals - think of Three Kingdoms or Advisors’ Alliance - those were not romantic heroes in traditional sense or a more recent example of Goodbye My Princess or Siege in Fog - except their inability to let FL go it was anything goes for those MLs) but for obvious reasons, this doesn’t happen much any more - the closest we’ve come recently is Kunning and Blossom and I adored both - there a lot of tension was that even after we realized MLs would die for FL, you often had no idea how they’d jump for other reasons and it gave us tension.

(Interesting side note is something like Eternal Brotherhood where even until the last episode, in terms of romance, I could not tell how Xiu would react to Ning - he was a very good person but the tension in the narrative came from his immense damage - every scene between them crackled with whether his feelings would win or his issues - it was constantly his issues but in every scene I kept going…but what if? That’s good acting and writing! But then there was the other tension because what Xiu was dedicated to was brotherhood and his platonic ideal of what a just society should be - which put him on a collision course with the wishes of his heart, and his friends and even the ruler - it gave uncertainty also. That’s a hard balancing act.)

Anyway this is a ramble so I will finish this failed attempt at an essay by saying - if cdrama rules allowed mains more edge and uncertainty, I’d probably be (even) more interested but as is, much as I love the mains, I often end up more drawn to secondaries in terms of interest.

[meiusoo-twistedtwst]

NRC Faces the Sorting Hat…

Hear me out this is ranked by a serious Potterhead who has DELVED into the associations of each house so allow me to share my thoughts on which Hogwarts house the NRC guys would possibly be sorted into —>

TREY & Cater seem like master manipulators, especially if all those overthrowing Riddle to reclaim Cater’s title as dorm leader theories are true (haven’t read Cater’s ch. 7 arc I rlly need to😭)

Azul & Vil are literally so ambitious, like Azul tried to erase his own past to theoretically present himself as a whole new, blank-slate person with absolutely no embarrassments or flaws while Vil’s determination drove him to insanity as he cunningly used Neige’s trust to try to POISON him

I think Ruggie & Jamil are very self-explanatory as they’re both ambitious & cunning, scheming guys. I chose Slytherin over Hufflepuff for Ruggie as although he’s extremely hardworking & relatively patient (he cleans up after Leona, not a job for the impatient) but he’s not actually all that loyal I don’t think. He only bonded with & followed after Leona because it would benefit him though… (now as I’m writing this I’m starting to think he might actually be a Hufflepuff-)

Silver & Sebek both showed lots of Hufflepuff traits but ultimately the events of Ch.7 pushed me to place them in Gryffindor instead. Just imagine how difficult it would be to turn your sword against the guy you’ve known & loved your whole life? The guy you had once sworn absolute obedience & loyalty to? They’re prime reinforcers as to why Neville Longbottom was in Gryffindor (it takes bravery to stand up against your own friends)

Ace & Deuce: Same thing as above but to a less extreme extent. Arguably, if the Ace is a traitor theories are true then he’d be a strong runner up for Slytherin with how cunning he is. I was hesitant with Deuce since he might be a Hufflepuff, but his background as a delinquent & his willingness to rebel against authority (cough cough Riddle cough) when he could have just stayed completely loyal like Trey (who may have just been plotting Riddle’s fall from grace then) made me put him in Gryffindor

Floyd was between Slytherin & Gryffindor but I don’t think he’s actually all that cunning? Like he knows he’s intimidating & uses that to his advantage but otherwise he doesn’t actively use detailed plots the same way Jade or Azul do? Plus, he’s just not afraid of anything; very brave

Epel was brave for being rebellious & rejecting peer pressure for the most part- definitely hard to say no when your dorm leader is a literal celebrity & accomplished student. Jack is also very self explanatory with how he’s not afraid to stand apart from the crowd (seen in Ch. 2) & he was never so blindly loyal to Leona to the point where he’d ignore or not notice his flaws

+He wasn’t on the Tier maker but I’d put Grim in Gryffindor with how recklessly brave he is (literally so chaotic & constantly defies authority)

I know what you’re all thinking but hear me out… Crowley is a bad (or at least morally grey) Hufflepuff. He preaches love, graciousness, & kindness- which are all dominantly Hufflepuff ideals, & people always overlook this but you don’t actually have to be a nice person to be in Hufflepuff. Every house is capable of producing dark wizards (there was an evil Hufflepuff in Hogwarts Legacy !) so even all those suspicions that Crowley might be downright evil could still make him a Hufflepuff, just not the stereotypical one. If he 100% idealizes kindness, even if he doesn’t positively reinforce it, then he’s still a Hufflepuff (though he is admittedly really Slytherin too)

Kalim is self-explanatory but I did kinda consider Ravenclaw or Gryffindor. Kalim is brave to keep Jamil around even after he tried to defame him & he’s strong enough to keep a genuine smile on his face despite being betrayed & facing near death situations all his life. Now I know Kalim isn’t book smart but he has really high emotional intelligence, he knows a lot more than he lets on, as shown by some of the inquisitive things he says to others

my house :p

Crewel’s got that academically smart (alchemy must be hard) & creative mix (his passion for fashion), I feel like Sam values insight & knowledge mainly to increase sales but just valuing those things makes him a Ravenclaw, & I just put Trein in Ravenclaw because he likes history & different cultures (although he could be a Hufflepuff with his loyalty, dunno though since that’s really just him being a good husband)

Lilia could be a Hufflepuff, with his love & loyalty to the Draconia royal family, but his vast wisdom & eccentricity made me put him in Ravenclaw instead, though I am kinda hesitant about it. With Leona, I know he’d totally be a Slytherin with how cunning he is & although he’s very ambitious, he’s so lazy it’s counterproductive to his desires. But I put him in Ravenclaw because he’s actually so smart & very knowledgeable, wise even

The Shroud brothers honestly could have been in Hufflepuff with their family loyalty, but Idia’s attitude pushed him into Ravenclaw instead. He also loves delving deep into his passions & interests, using knowledge to his advantage. Same with Ortho since he’s a walking encyclopedia & also takes full advantage of his constant access to data banks & the whole internet. The Shrouds are almost like eternal, nonstop knowledge gatherers, especially with how their family literally devotes themselves to researching overblot

Rook is pretty self-explanatory with his intense curiosity & his pursuit for beauty could also be interpreted as a pursuit for diversifying one’s knowledge of the world so one could embrace all the beauty within different cultures & such. But he is also very Hufflepuff with how nice & insanely loyal he is… (so loyal to all he almost isn’t loyal….)

Jade could be a Slytherin, but I don’t think he’s as ambitious as Azul? He uses cunning much more often but otherwise, his genuine fascination with mushrooms & human life places him in Ravenclaw as at his core, Jade’s really into research & gaining more knowledge of a world on land that he was once a stranger to

I was thinking Slytherin could be a good fit for Malleus but I’m hesitant for some reason ..??

Don’t know much about Vargas’s personality & I wanted to avoid just tossing him in Gryffindor to mindlessly follow the jock=Gryffindor stereotype

I know many would put Riddle in Ravenclaw, & at surface level, I would do the same. But to be in Ravenclaw you actually have to believe knowledge is power…& Riddle doesn’t actually love constantly pursuing knowledge. Even if he thinks academics are important, he would have never been studying so diligently if it wasn’t for his mother’s influence and control over his childhood….

•°. *࿐ •°. *࿐ •°. *࿐

Where would you sort everyone?

🎄Merry Christmas everyone~

[kaibutsushidousha]

The Hundred Line 1st Impression Session #1

Takumi Sumino

Not much we didn't already know about him before. It's funny how between the original Saihara, Yuma from Rain Code, and Takumi here, Kodaka has repeated what we can "the Saihara archetype" of Kodaka protagonists. I guess that will now be his most utilized protag type, surpassing "the Naegi archetype" (the Naegi siblings and Akamatsu) because Akamatsu only gets one chapter as protagonist. Meanwhile, "the Hinata archetype" (Hinata, Otonashi, and the Death Come True guy) is the most underrepresented due to DR0 and DCT being significantly shorter than his games.

Darumi Amemiya

Another one that was already covered at Tokyo Game Show. Not much new going on aside from the reveal that she's voiced by Farouz Ai (based based based based). She has potential to be great depending on how serious Kodaka wants to be about her manic depression.

One intriguing comment in her gameplay showcase is that Kodaka mentioned her attack animations are based on a Gilgamesh from another series, but he cannot disclose which series this Gilgamesh is from despite both The Hundred Line and the unidentified Gilgamesh's series both being Aniplex productions. Watching the animations, her attack remind me of Boss from Fate/Samurai Remnant, but Boss was never stated to be a Gilgamesh, it's probably not him. I guess it mustn't be from anything I know.

Eito Aotsuki

Komaeda II was also already covered at Tokyo Game Show, but today's display downplayed his Komaedaness and focused more on his pathetic desperation to make friends, and established his place in group dynamics as the one companion no one trusts because he's always making the cheesiest and most fake-sounding friendship speeches. He's also voiced by Sakurai (unbased) which further distances himself from the initial Komaeda impression.

Standout dialogue:

Aotsuki: Right, before discussing that, we need to introduce ourselves to each other. So, what are your hobbies? Any food you don't eat? What's your sign? Favorite manga? What club you're at in school? Do you watch a lot of movies? Play video games? What do your parents work with?

Takumi: Hold on, that's too much to answer at once.

Aotsuki: Huh? Oh... Sorry, good point... I don't really know how to interact with people, as you might have noticed. Sharing self-introductions feels pretty unusual...

Kurara Oosuzuki

Her intro dialogue has her explaining the dumb pun of her name, so I'm already intrigued to see what the localization will do about this one.

The super elite billionaire kid who thinks everyone else is trash is a character type Kodaka already did before with Togami, but they already prove themselves very different in their placement in group dynamics, as Togami is the guy who posed as a killing game player while Oosuzuki is completely invested in supporting the team. Neat stuff.

I hope Kodaka/Komatsuzaki commits to the bit and she never takes off her tomato. Ideally, they never even decided what her canon face looks like.

Ima Tsukumo

I wish authors would stop reinventing Yuri Briar. I already dropped Yomi no Tsugai over this.

CV: Ogata Megumi

Kodaka is trying to bribe me with good voice acting and it won't work.

Ima: Hm, this ketchup & mayo rice soup is banging. The oil levels in the broth rule!

Kako: My rice bowl with chocolate, banana, and chili sauce shrimps is great, too. I can't even tell if it's sweet or spicy.

Kodaka is trying to bribe me with ugly food and it will work. More of this, please. You have a real chance of making me like your creep.

Kako Tsukumo

The other twin. Her special subject is Morality, in contrast with her brother's special subject being Misconduct. We already got the explanation for what Misconduct does in gameplay, so her Morality is the only special subject so far that we know nothing about.

We already have an open statement that her story will be about learning that she can disobey her brother, so that's a plotline with a lot of potential already.

She's also a canonical fan of ugly food and detective fiction, so I can trust completely that if she were real and I hadn't made my Danganronpa V3 ugly food post, she would have done it. Thank you, Kodaka, I feel very personally homaged here.

[clairedaring]

Hi! I saw that you've read Euthanasia, and I had a question after watching episode 7 of Spare Me Your Mercy. I'm curious about the framing of Boss' death and what space the novel gives to tease out the complexities of euthanasia and disability? As a disabled watcher, I come to discussions of euthanasia outside terminal illness quite wary. Though I'm certainly coming from a Western context where euthanasia and disability is a very sensitive topic and the conversation might look pretty different in Thailand. The framing in the show felt at the very least rushed in terms of building any nuance into the conversation so far, so I'm curious if and how the novel explores the complexities of this.

Hi Shane 💖

To be honest I think that the series is doing far better in terms of show the complexities than the books in terms of euthanasia (i know, unbelievable but bare with me for a second here friend).

So.... the biggest difference the series has made so far is changing the roles between Somsak and Boss. In the book, Somsak was the main culprit and Boss was his accomplice in the way that Boss/Boze also idolises Kan and his ideals -> Somsak convinced Boss to join him in his quest to euthanise patients.

And if you ask what Doctor Somsak's motivation is? There isn't more to it as much as he believes in the same thing as Kan and Kan coming to the hospital is now a future scapegoat for him.

In the novel, Kan also deliberately euthanised/murdered Dr. Somsak when he was in the hospital after they were both injured in their gun fight (similar to what happened to Boss) (pinging @waitmyturtles who may be interested to know that novel!Kan wasn't just a morally grey ass, he really did fuck up there and genuinely did not deserve to end up with Wasan where they left them in the first novel).

But there wasn't a dramatic conversation between them like how Boss asked Kan to do kill him. No, like novel!Kan straight up murdered Somsak to keep him from telling everyone his secret (granted it was his only murder and he did go to prison for it but yeah still novel!Kan was... something else).

So in this sense I think the series has already done much better with the topic of euthanasia, opening up more sides to the debates whereas the novel only touches upon euthanasia in a very surface level way to move forward with its the murder mystery plot.

It's doing it very clumsily for sure but for instance I like that Boss's background story represented how his mother got caregiver burnout and in a country where public healthcare is not as developed and there aren't much welfare or support schemes for people living in rural areas, it's not uncommon to see this seemingly selfish thinking from people around terminally ill/permanently disabled people. It's selfish and inherently discriminatory but it's a raw representation of the painfully ugly mindset people may harbour but will never say it out loud in public.

I'm in no way defending this series by the way, I'm simply saying that if you're looking for more nuances and complexities on the topic of euthanasia in the novels, they're definitely not going to offer that. I would say that the novels offer more complexities in the development of the relationship between Kan and Wasan because it's constructed in a way that's much more believable for reader audience.

The series... I think EP.7 tried a little too much with incorporating assisted suicide into euthanasia which is only going to make it much more controversial.

I hope these little novel spoilers help and answer some of your questions. I really can't offer anything from the novels in terms of disability because it wasn't even mentioned once ಥ_ಥ