#but yeah I can see why the action would be seen as monstrous but it’s the same case with Curly where she could not have expected all of that

[dykedvonte]

I find the line "I have to believe our worst moments don't make us monsters." Fascinating because it comes from Anya, and I feel she really proves it the best.

For obvious reasons most people are in the "Anya did nothing wrong" camp and for good reason but there is a single action that I don't think she did well and it was her suicide. Specifically her method.

Realizing that Anya took Curly's painkillers was horrifying to me. As a Nurse I have no doubt that she'd know how terrible dying from overdose is. She had access to a gun which is well known for having a far more instant and far less painful death. And despite everything falling apart around her, knowing how bad Jimmy was, she still left Curly alive.

I don't think I thought about it much like that at first but the longer this game has sat with me the more horrified I am by the action. Curly is man who has been horribly disabled and is completely unable to help himself and he is very much a human being who does not deserve to be anywhere close to that amount of pain. Those painkillers were one that the few things that could give him any amount of relief and Anya took them.

She could have shot herself and left the painkillers for whoever was left to help Curly. She could've shot Curly and then taken the painkillers. She could've shot them both and quickly put an end to their misery, yet she didn't. Anya had a great amount of her agency stripped away from her, to the point that she didn't deem life to be worth it anymore and ended it, right next to a man who couldn't make that choice for himself even if he wanted to.

It is easily her most horrific choice and yet, she's still an angel.

(Please don't take this as Anya slander, I genuinely love her so much. I just find this to be an incredibly interesting thing)

I do subscribe to the idea that Anya realized that Jimmy was hitting Curly when giving him his medicine but didn’t intervene. I also don’t think her taking the pills from Curly as monstrous mainly because (while she knew he suffered worse with out them) she likely also knew they were basically bandaids on a bullet wound.

I have this sort of belief that that statement can only really apply to Jimmy in the inverse. Like some statements in the games aren’t meant to apply to all characters and not in every context of every action they do. It’s the idea that no one should be responsible for Jimmy’s actions but himself but they are forced to by him or the environment. Everyone is experiencing their worst moments but no one is a monster outside of Jimmy due to his inability to take responsibility and how he escalates the severity of the situation through his bad choices. Even then it’s not one moment that makes Jimmy a monster it’s the culmination of every moment that prove his inability to be anything but in this scenario.

With Anya you must remember she did have the code to the gun. Yeah, she could’ve broken it open but who’s to say how easy or how long it would’ve taken. Not to mention, there’s this misconception that she wanted the gun to kill Jimmy which isn’t true. She wanted the gun to defend herself in the case he got aggressive which is an important note of Anya being the only proactive person on the ship vs reactive. Locking the door, knowing there was no way in was likely a duel mercy for them both. A person in his state would die relatively soon without constant care and she has ample time to pass. It’s a hard decision to make for herself and someone else but it was the easiest even if it caused more damage than it was ever meant to cause.

It’s a sort of parallel to how Curly made choices he thought would help Anya and everyone but ultimately doomed them all further. Jimmy got what he wanted in both scenarios of crashing the ship and wanting Anya gone. What happened on the Tulpar will go down as a tragedy if they are ever found, a mystery if not but certainly not in a way that Jimmy wanted. Anya and the pregnancy are effectively gone but he’s still facing the repercussions for it.

There’s this idea that it’s controversial to say that Anya was anything but perfect and while I don’t think she did anything wrong, she certainly didn’t make the best choice in telling Jimmy but that again was because of the situation and environment she was in. We don’t know why she didn’t wait on Curly after their conversation in the cockpit, we know that was the plan and we know Jimmy finding out through her alone was the catalyst to the crash within like the next hour, yet you can’t really blame her. We don’t know why Jimmy came to medical nor what anyone else was doing. It can be considered her one mistake but then again we can’t blame a reasonable action on someone’s unreasonable response.

I think that’s a big aspect a lot of people look over in the characters actions. Most of them are normal, reasonable, human. But the systematic responses to them and Jimmy’s are unreasonably harsh and punishing.

This has gone off in a tangent from what you originally posed but I genuinely think of what might do happened if that confrontation happened with Curly there and away from the cock pit. I assume it’d happen in medical or even utility, hell, an area away from anything sensitive but what if? If the ability to do something awful wasn’t at Jimmy’s finger tips, if there was more than one voice in Curly’s head during that moment, what would’ve changed?

When I look at Anya I see her as having the best responses to anything happening during the events of the game but the environment, systems against her and even the other crew mates to an extent made it so it would inevitably backfire on them and mostly her hard.

[chicasgeneralgoods]

yeah im ngl? like i totally get a lot of people can understand that curly is just as responsible as jimmy for what happened to the crew while at the same time being invested in him as a character... but it's kind of really weird how curly gets more of a pass by a lot of mouthwashing fans? like a lot of people will refuse to draw jimmy as a way to denounce him and deem him unworthy of any "fan" work, but then given how the two are so like parasitically unified, shouldn't that extend to curly too? is the fact that he is a "well-meaning" person whose inaction (as well as certian actions) directly lead to the violence against anya and the crew who didnt directly do the violence himself somehow absolve him from the kind of vindication that makes jimmy unworthy of fan-like portrayal and engagement? does that keep him from crossing that line? is that rooted in a desire to separate curly from the man horrible man he enabled? does this align him more with the victims as the rest of the crew are rather than the perpetrator? is curly both a victim and a perpetrator? is he neither?

this is all not so much to declare one conclusion one way or another but rather to muse on the different fan-engagements and portrayals between jimmy and curly.

as horror media, mouthwashing is expected to have a metaphorical "monster" who causes disgust and fear to the audience. I can only think of three characters that could fit this role: jimmy, polle, and curly himself. jimmy is the most blatantly monstrous in that his actions are reprehensible and this is what has earned him his sort of exiled position from fan-representation/engagement, and polle chases the player (as jimmy) in the way a horror game character might in certain gameplay sections, but could curly not count as well? upon closer examination, most people realize that curly is complicit in the violence that happened at the ship which can incite the same kind of repulsion as a "monster" is meant to do. the game also uses his permanently open eye in promotional material to kind of symbolize the horror of the game itself. polle is only really a monster when you see his role from the perspective of jimmy (especially when you read him as a voice for anya) or when hes read as a metaphor for capitalism and the company that enabled this before any personal level even applies (which i think is a role he can exist in simultaneously). curly's post-crash body is similarly used as a source of horror from his ever-present gaze and also from kind of drawing on the history of disabilities to be seen as "monstrous" and repulsive ("monstrosity" of course is a very loaded concept that often hosts a lot of racist, ableist, transphobic, and overall just the variety of repulsions against "the other" that is encountered in media orientations within it). if you asked me what the true "horror" of mouthwashing was, i'd probably say it's the horror of witnessing, enabling, and abiding of abusers (also considering that the ending of the game is curly witnessing everything but being unable to act or communicate anything of what he saw and if hes found presumably taking the blame for it)... which i think would place curly as the "true" monster of this game within such an interpretation.

so then, why doesn't he cross the line?

[bradycore]

disclaimer that i dont remember every single detail of the episode, but i still dont fully get why sam killing emma is seen in the fandom as like. a harmful action against dean? and as sam actively choosing to kill someone he saw as dean's daughter? when i first saw that scene it didnt even cross my mind that the narrative might be anything other than "winchester kills morally ambiguous monster to save other winchester", aka the plot of every episode ever. and yeah emma's last few words to dean in front of sam sounded really scared and harmless and genuine, but there are several things that to me negate the genuinity of it enough to justify sam's decision:

1. right before emma pleaded with dean, she looked at sam with monstrous eyes and an emotionless face. her face then became human & scared when she looked back to dean to convince him to save her. this initially read to me as intentional on her part; why would she make sam see her as a monster and then make dean see her as a scared kid if her intent was not to manipulate dean into thinking of her as more human/vulnerable than she was? now i can see how it could also have been out of her control, but between the two possibilities in a climactic moment, it makes sense that sam would assume the first over the second.

2. sam walked in to dean holding emma at gunpoint, which clarified her as a threat. after she pleaded with dean, sam looked to dean for a cue. dean kept his gun mostly raised and his expression blank. as the one with a potential emotional connection to emma, the only emotion he showed to sam was that he still considered emma a threat.

3. earlier that year, dean killed a monster that sam had an emotional connection to because he didn't trust her word. it is not dean's habit to make exceptions for emotional connections or trustworthiness; if sam was the one facing his own amazonian daughter, dean would not hesitate to put her down. does this make it okay? hell no! sam could easily have trusted that emma might be scared and harmless until they could make sure either way. dean could easily have trusted amy (and sam!) that she would never kill again. they could easily have made dozens of exceptions about inhuman creatures over the course of this stupid show. but they didn't, because let me reiterate, killing monsters with unclear morality is like their favorite hobby. any details about emma beyond "is a monster of unknown threat standing in front of my brother", including whether or not dean himself trusts her, are irrelevant by dean's own standards. sam is playing by dean's standards.

so what makes sam's choice an unjustifiable action against dean?? genuine question. if anyone knows the answer please tell me i am so curious. i have seen many people who think this but no explanations as to why.

[short-honey-badger]

Life Imitates Art Part 2

Part 2 is finally out! Buggy meets his lil Shadow! Enjoy!

Warnings! Some violence.

Masterlist

@writingmysanity @browneyedhufflepuff @kenkenmaaa @foggyturtleknightangel

Buggy the Clown paced back and forth within his ship. They had already overstayed their welcome on the little island, but the rumors that his copycat had him stalled. He wanted to meet the person who dared to dress like him of all people. He had sent out the Funan Brothers to go look for someone dressed like him, and while obviously confused, the tightrope walking trio left without a word. 

Buggy couldn't decide if he was outraged or impressed by your audacity to copy his flashy look. Why in the world would someone want to copy him? It confused him, and it annoyed him even more because apparently, it's been years of this going on, and he is just now finding out about it. Well, you must have gotten sloppy with whatever your angle was because now he knows about your sneaky ways. 

A commotion at the entrance of the tent has Buggy running for his chair and propping up in it as if he hadn't just been pacing a hole in the floor. He fixes his hat and lounges in his chair, slinging one leg over the arm and propping his chin on his fist. The Captain needs to paint a frightening picture for his guest. 

"Found em, Captain!" The tallest of the brothers shouted and shoved a figure into the tent that has been set up on the Big Top. Another brother shoves them again and they yelp as they stumble to their knees in front of him, "Sneaking around the news station dress up just like you." 

"Yeah! Probably out there making fun of our Captain!" One of them hissed at the kneeling figure. 

"Good job, boys. Pick out some booze from our latest haul," Buggy called to them, and the three brothers cheered about how amazing their Captain is before running off. 

Now alone with his shadow, Buggy examines them. From here, all he could see was the stripes bandana and the tan overcoat that covered them. He could tell that they were smaller than him, and he wondered if this was just come kid parading around to make fun of him. The thought made him clench his teeth, embarrassment and anger ringing through him. 

"Look at me," Buggy demands, voice low and threatening. 

You raise your head, fear and nerves rattling your down to your bones as you stare up at the man who changed your life. He is glaring down at you, but even from here, you can see the surprise light up his face. The Captain hadn't expected to be faced with a woman, especially one as lovely as you. Despite his rage, Buggy is man enough to admit when he likes something, and you all dressed up as him tickles his fancy. 

"You're a woman?" Buggy demands and you blush under your face paint, nodding quickly to his question. 

"Yes, Captain," you say. You don't want to make him angry. You've seen how cruel and monstrous Buggy can be when provoked. 

Buggy scoffs, what right did you have to call him by his title when you've been parading around as him for who knows how long? He slings his leg down, boots thudding loudly on the deck of his ship, and then he stands, walking forward so that he looms over You. 

You flinch when he grabs your bandana and uses it to jerk your head back so that you are forced to stare up at him. You flush at having the man you admire so close to you, heat pulling heavy in your lower stomach despite the position he has you in. Buggy is silent, eyes flickering over your face as he examines you. 

"Not a bad job for a copycat," Buggy murmurs, and you could die happy in that moment at hearing the mild impressed tone. His hand tightens, fingers pulling your hair hard enough that you whine, and Buggy leans in more, red nose almost close enough to bump into, "But I want to know why." 

You open your mouth to explain your actions, but Buggy just keeps talking, and you shut your mouth with a click. 

"You're making fun of me, aren't you? Going around, having a jolly good time spreading rumors," Buggy snarles hotly, voice pitching up into a yell, "Telling anyone who will listen how much of a coward Buggy the Clown is!" 

He's getting worked up, the smile on his face  terrifying and manic as he stares down at you. He lets go of your bandana to stalk a circle around you, and you wait with baited breath as he comes to a stop behind you. Something cold and sharp is suddenly pressed against your neck, and you are careful not to move as Buggy fists your braid. 

"I bet the Navy put you up to this, didn't they? Told you all about me and my crew to try and get close, huh?" He snarled, and you whined again when the blade against your throat pressed down. Buggy watches in fascination as a bead of blood wells up and trickles down your pale throat. He has a sudden want to know just how you taste. 

The Captain's mind works overtime, thinking about everything that the Navy could have told you about. His heart thuds in his chest, fear corsing through him at the thought of someone finding out his biggest secret. No one needed to know that he had been part of Roger's crew. Fuck, did you know? The Navy didn't even know. 

There was always someone out to get him, and it made him even angrier when he thought of the blasted Navy paying off someone to spread misinformation about him. No wonder he and his crew have been so lucky lately. They had been watched this entire time! 

Your eyes widen. Is that what he thought? Shit. You shouldn't have been so surprised. Your captain, even if he hadn't accepted you yet, was a paranoid bastard. You needed to set the facts straight now!

"No!" You exclaim and heedless of the knife, turn your head to desperately stare up at the blue haired man. You wince when it cuts you, but it isn't bad and can easily be ignored, "Thats not it at all, Captain."

"Ohhh? Is that so?" Buggy mocks you and rolls his eyes dramatically, "Or are you lying just to save your skin?" 

You bristle at the insult and try hard not to let it show on your face, "The only lying I have ever done has always been for you, Captain Buggy. Why do you think you've had such an easy voyage around East Blue the past couple of years? The convenient treasure maps and the obvious directions you've found? That was all me, trying - and failing - to get your attention!" 

You don't realize how loud you are until you hear your voice echo inside the circus tent and you heave a mighty breath once you've finished your tangent. You look at the blue haired man to find his face the very picture of shock. You look away, suddenly embarrassed by your passionate shouting. 

Buggy stares down at his copycat, at his shadow in a new light. Thinking back on it now, Buggy should have been much more suspicious of all of his good luck in the past few years, especially considering the kind of luck that usually followed him. 

He swallows harshly and steps away from you, untangling his hand from your hair and tucking away his knives away swiftly, "...Really?" Buggy asks slowly, and you give him a miffed look from where you still kneel in the middle of the floor. 

"Yes, Really," you tell him and you try to not show your surprise when the blue haired man circles back around and plops right on the floor, cross cross apple sauce in front of you. 

"Why?" The Captain demands, and you huff at the suspicious tone he uses with you. Though, you shouldn't be shocked to hear it. Your Captain is a paranoid bastard. 

"You saved my island. Left us poor wretches alone and plundered Top Town," you explain to him and blush at his intense stare, "After you left, those rich bastards tried to take it all back, so, I started dressing like you. No one bothered me like this, and I was able to make sure that stupid door Richie knocked down stayed down." 

Your eyes never once leave the pirate. You needed him to understand how much he had changed your life and how he had shaped it. 

"I saved up some money and learned how to sail. That's when I started to follow you, as best I could anyways, helping when I could to try and get the Navy off your back. Now we're here," you finish with a lame shrug. 

Buggy is silent for a while, mulling over your story. Your voice is sincere, and drips with truth, and Buggy can't help but want to believe you. He vaugly remembers the island you spoke about, but the Captain has been to so many since that he can't remember the details. He hums in thought. What to do? What to do?

"Well then, since you've been so honest and so... helpful," he begins and a mischievous grin spreads across his face, "I think you deserve a reward," he leans up on his knees, gloved hand tucking his knuckles under your chin and bring your face up, "I've got a couple things in mind." 

[kyliafanfiction]

I sometimes feel like characters who do truly monstrous things while also having been victims of some pretty insane shit themselves are sort of an exercise in empathy. Or at least, should be seen as such.

Like, in real life, if a person who has been horribly broken by their experiences and failed by society than proceeds to rape someone - it's hard to feel the justifiable sympathy/empathy for that person (without excusing their rape, never do that) because well, you can look at this actual human person they hurt, or worse, and it feels gross and disrespectful to the rape victim.

And this is understandable. (And applies to more than just rapists/rape victims of course, that's just the most visceral one and thus picked for that reason)

But a fictional rape victim is... fictional. You can't 'disrespect' their trauma, and while obviously rape/whatever else is real, and people may related to the rape victim and thus see your comments about the rapist also being a victim as somehow being about their experience...

Well, it's not.

Because the rapist here, didn't actually hurt a real person. Fictional characters are objects. They're objects that often grab us by the throat and refuse to leave our fucking heads, yes, but they're objects. They are tools used by writers to tell a story, and readers to tell a story.

And one of the things fictional characters are good for is allowing us to consider experiences we never had, and imagine ourselves in other circumstances and lives. (Also just fun and fascinating and interesting to watch their stories).

It's very easy to feel for the rape victim in fiction, and rightly so. That's Level 1 Empathy there. Granted, some people IRL fail that, but that's not really what we're talking about here.

Advanced Empathy, hard Empathy is feeling for the rapist. Not for the rape, of course, even if they feel guilt about it, but if someone really was failed on multiple levels and was broken and damaged and went through the sort of psychological wringer that would leave most of us here on tumblr catatonic - they do deserve the same Empathy any human (any person) who went through all that.

Even after they also do the bad thing, critically they still deserve Empathy. And that is fucking hard. I very often have a hard time feeling bad for truly awful people who also deserve empathy and sympathy, real and even fictional (despite all this, yeah, I'm not perfect on this) for what they (separately) went through.

It also becomes even harder when what they went through is utterly bound up with what they did. How what they went through and experiences is in part responsible for what they did - because they still made a choice. The circumstances may have left them not in their right mind, may have left them feeling without choice, may have driven them to things they normally might not think of or do, but they still chose to do that bad thing. And that's not okay. They still hurt someone.

And yet - one cannot remove the action from the circumstances. So you can still feel empathy, and elucidate all the factors and circumstances as to what led up to their choices and why, and it doesn't change that they did the horrible thing. The rape, or the murders, or whatever.

But circling back - with a fictional character... they didn't hurt a real person. There's no one who is real that suffered. The things the character did IRL are bad because they hurt real people.

So you're not being disrespectful to the victim by feeling that empathy, or sympathy. By exploring the things that they were a victim for. Even by wanting to focus on those things - fictional characters should be compelling in all their aspects, if they're written well.

And yet, of course, if you do that empathy and do talk about what the bad person went through and all that context, people come at you. They call you evil, just as bad as the (again, fictional) character, or they say that you're treading dangerously close to the arguments people use to defend the real people who do these things in real life. Or you're disrespecting all the victims of these crimes IRL. Especially of course, if the person coming at you has a reason this comes close to home.

But again - fictional.

In an ideal world, we'd all feel sympathy and empathy when it's called for, regardless of what the person did. Even the worst most monstrous people deserve human treatment in prison. And if you don't have empathy, that's hard. Even if you do have empathy, that's hard.

So if you look at a fictional character (who doesn't hurt a real person by virtue of being fictional) that does horrible, vile things, but went through so much, and you still can't empathize or sympathize with them... I mean, it doesn't make you a bad person, not even close, this is still fiction, and there's people I should empathize with in fiction that I don't, but...

It's still a failure of your ability to be empathetic. And we're all humans. We're all failing at that, among other things, all the time. But... it's good to be aware of that. at least?

At the very least, bear that in mind when other people are talking about that context, and that victimization. And please, for the love of god, don't fucking pretend that the victimization didn't happen, that this person who did do terrible things (in fiction) suddenly didn't also (in fiction) experience awful shit, as if doing a bad thing erases all the bad things done to you.

Again - it doesn't necessarily make you a bad person, but like... the horrible state of prisons in our society is a real, actual problem. The way we as a society dehumanize people who do bad things is a real actual problem for a lot of reasons (not least because it creates an incentive for authority that wants to dehumanize a person or a group to expand the definition of 'did bad things' to make their dehumanization now acceptable, among other things).

So yeah. Fictional character who suffers but than also makes others suffer - that's a useful exercise in Empathy. And doing that doesn't make you or anyone else a bad person, or actually defending the sorts of crimes, IRL or Fictional, that this character did. Contextualizing is not whitewashing, empathy is not erasing, and humanizing is not disrespecting the victim(s).

So yeah, they fictional character did bad things. But there's more to them than that. And you can say but and talk about what comes after but without disrespecting the fictional victim. Because the fictional victim... is just as fictional. Just as not real.

Is it possible for this to end up being taken too far? Yes. But that's a reason to be mindful of yourself when it comes to real people, not to never do it. And when it comes to fictional people - again, fictional. Nobody was actually, really hurt.

(I really do want to make clear, before people read the tags, that this applies to all crimes these sorts of characters do, rape was just picked as the one to use as the example.)

[star-shapedfruit]

Let's talk about Chapter 107- Part Deux (Ex Machina)

Man. Man.

Follow up post from this. Might as well keep this as a series because I guess verbal diarrhoea is a coping mechanism for me. Thoughts and predictions again. Spoilers below

So it appears that yes, Hiyori is 100% dead now since we saw her memories through Yato (broke my fucking heart btw) and we're going down the shinki route.

Yato didn't want to name her. He had no choice. He had just watched the love of his life be murdered right in front of him and was about to see her be transformed into his Father's monstrous puppet. Naming her there and then before Father got the chance to was the only way to save her. This is the most brutal fucking chapter in the entire series I swear to GOD. (Though I think most of us can agree that from the small glimpse of Hakki we have so far, she looks gorgeous. That sakura design.. 🥺)

But seriously I'm hoping and praying that Hiyori is somehow going to retain her memories and either bypass the GGS or be pretty much immune to it. Like I said before, she's a special case. Because she already had ties to the Far Shore and to multiple gods, she might get a sort of get out of jail free card here. Plus it would just interrupt the flow of the finale to a really weird extent if she lost all of her memories. It'd be too jarring and weird imo. Perhaps she initially has all of them but then over time her Near Shore memories will eventually fade away.

(Reiterating what I said in the previous post. I have no idea how this is going to affect other shinkis with her being around in regards to the GGS. Or even if her existence will be allowed by Amaterasu. It's not like Ammy can wipe everyone's memories of Hiyori to safeguard them. But hey)

Also the fact that his shinkis are literally Snow White? Lol.

Lets say she retains her memories. Will she still be called Hiyori or will she have to go by Shirone even if hearing her name won't break her? Maybe it'll be a closely guarded secret by her and Yato. Having her name on a part of her body that can't be seen (like over her heart for instance because thematics) means it's hidden from view from anyone else, therefore nobody can use that name against her (KAZUMA. 👀) An extra layer of protection for her. It'll be her and Yato's (and probably Yukine's too) secret.

Speaking of Yukine, I'm guessing he's going to be out of action for this final final fight. With Hiyori slicing the Koto No Ha in half like an absolute boss ass bitch, it's likely that The Nation will collapse and everyone will return to their regular forms. Yukine will probably be in a bad shape and unfit to fight let alone even transform into Sekki. Meaning it's going to be Yato and Hiyori Vs Father working together as one. The Deux Ex Machina has appeared and she is pissed.

(Literally though, first thing she does as a weapon is take a slice at Father and the brush. I didn't even realise she'd cut his fingers til the second read through. Looks like she might have even got his neck too? Dare I say...? Slay?)

So yeah. I'm hoping that because of her original ties to Yato and the Far Shore, her memories may not be lost. The two of them will team up to take down Father as possibly the most powerful shinki we've seen so far. Nobody has been able to make a dent in the Koto No Ha until now. Which is possibly why this is why the story is going this way. Yato has tried and failed to take down Father multiple times. He couldn't use Yukine for his final confrontation for obvious reasons so he went on a search to find a suitable and powerful enough shinki to take his place, and that ended up being Kazuma. Obviously didn't work out as intended though.

Funny how maybe the person he's needed to take down Father all along is Hiyori. Father might have ended up winning in the end but by killing her, he's essentially doomed himself.

[beetleskeleton]

I HAVE ANOTHER AU BESTIES HOLY SHIT

And this time it’s mainly about the Dead Challenger/Wanderer concept! 

 I had finished watching a playthrough of Bendy and the Dark Revival and during it I was thinking about how some of the characters coincidentally looked like the concepts that I have for Wanderers. Then I thought, what if the Wanderer’s forms were like their death cards, but they were also grotesque and monstrous versions of themselves as well? In other words, a giant silhouette monster ghost thing that’s just wandering about the place. 

I have a concept design for this;

Take for example my Challenger OC Sparrow, they have an airborne sigil on their right eye as well as wings. These features take accountability in their ‘Monster’ Wanderer form, as they will become evident in their afterlife. 

(the art was a bit rushed but you get the point.)

That being said, this can work with any Wanderer, if they’re a Challenger and they die then it’s going to happen no matter what. However, if a living Challenger gets upset or aggravated enough, to the point where they see red and lose control of their actions and rationality, they can turn into their monstrous form that lies deep inside them. This isn’t a common occurrence of course, but it certainly happens enough that the Scrybes and even some of their underlings have seen it happen before and have taken precautions when it does happen. 

 I’m thinking of some Chaoscule scenarios with this, like maybe the Scrybes come across their partner's spirit and they recognize them. And instead of being hostile, they love on them and snuggle with them just as if they were alive because they still love them to bits. Big ol’ monster partner. 

I also think that while the Scrybes partner is protecting them from something, they can transform because I’d say that your partners being in danger is distressing enough. There will probably be a few more scenarios other than just those two obviously, but I’m just brain dead on those kinds of scenarios right now. Though I’m always open to suggestions if anyone has any. 

I would also like to mention that when all of this is said and done, the Challenger hardly remembers what their time as a monster was like. Their mind is practically blank the whole time and they aren’t thinking about what they’re doing or saying at all. Like I said before, when this happens they lose control of their actions and don’t regain it until they calm down. 

This is the entire opposite if the Challenger is dead and is now a Wanderer. The Wanderer is painfully aware of what they are doing and what they say. While they have some control of their actions, they don’t have full control of their actions, which is very important to note. 

Oh, and I forgot to mention that some Wanderers are hostile towards each other and other people as well. For one reason or another, there are Wanderers that if you even look at them funny, your ankles are going to be chewed like twigs. They’re very aggressive, and that’s why they're called Lurkers. When attacking, they lurk in shadows, which works well as most of their body is pitch black save for their eyes and wound(s).     

 Yeah, so if you thought that Wanderers that are actually decent and aren’t hostile towards anyone get to rest in peace after they die, you’re wrong, very wrong. 

I am not kind to these Challengers my god- 

  To recap; 

-Wanderer spirit turns into a Monster, called a ‘Wandering Monster’. 

-Living Challengers only turn into a Wandering Monster when deeply upset by something

-Living Wandering Monsters don’t remember what happens while dead Wandering Monsters do.

-Hostile Wandering Monsters are called Lurkers.  

[tkazarin]

I’m so excited of @pond-child-edd​ ‘s AU!!! It’s a great thing and I’m thankful for seeing this! I’ve noticed that authors are fine (and even glad to see it) with some silly thoughts and headcanons so... I WANNA BRING THIS UP! Warning: English isn’t my native, so sorry about mistakes. I have some theories and speculations. U see I love Tom. That’s important and I’m going to speak about him.  In this AU there are a way darker versions of classic era characters. And I love it a lot! They feel unique and more human. Control Freak TM Matt, anxious-stressed Edd and Tordish Tord. And Tom?... We haven’t seen much of him and his actions yet (but i’m sure we will). And the most obvious is his appearance. He is pretty far from normal looking hooman. WHAT IF he is a monster? Demon or something like this. Yeah, in the original show there is an evidence that Tom became a shapeshifter because of Tord. But I’d like to think that Tord was studying him. Also it’s AU lol. 

In comic it was mentioned that Tom had weapons, a lot, at his apartment. For what reason? For protecting from his monstrous form. Tom has his line instead of eyes and monster-like mouth with huge fangs. It feels like he can’t fully turn into human. He can’t control his appearance. 

Also I’ve noticed that he is very attached to Edd’s house. Why? I guess it’s because he feels unsafe/uncomfortable at his own place. There can be two reasons: 1. Parents. They see a monster in him. So here is the weaponry. Mb bcs of their abuse Tom doesn’t speak.  2. Solitude. Nobody wants to interact with a freak. With a dangerous freak. Mb he realizes the danger he can bring. So he isolates himself in order to protect others. However he can’t do it constantly. He wants friends, he wants appreciation. And a real home. He really loves this place. He tries to make it comfortable. Tom protects his home (he considered Tord as a threat and he was not that wrong i guess). Also he doesn’t hate anyone a lot. He is in good terms with Edd and Matt, probably, and is displeased with Tord (there were no real signs of aggression from his side). He told Matt about his and Tord’s conversation mb because he wanted this situation to over. He could tell about it to Edd but he has chosen the most “soft” option. And yeah, he still doesn’t speak so angry twitter argument is delayed. He brought Ringo to make this place feel more like a home. He started to show up around the house because he feels there good. Also I see that Matt is kinda afraid of Tom same as Tord. Or it’s just me but at the Ringo introduction he constantly looked at Tom with fear??? And he sent Tord to Tom as a punishment? Matt would never leave the opportunity. to troll Tord so with Tom there would be something not good or it was just Matt’s point of view. So here are some funnies. Imagine one day you notice that your friend starts having more and more human traits. As a result of self confidence and living around people. And finally he looks like a real man with just two black holes but at least they look and act like eyes. I mean pretty neat upgrade I hope Tord will be pleased. AND yEAH HE SUDDENLY SPEAKS WITH DEEP VOICE. At the moments of stress Tom will return to his classic look and moreover he will open more eyes and the mouth will become bigger... The monster form is coming. Thank you for the reading! It’s 5 AM here, i need some sleep P.s.: I’m terrible at drawing and it’s my second art of Eddsworld (it’s clear with my inability of drawing hoodies) but I want to illustrate my thoughts. 

[robininthelabyrinth]

Prompt- WWX didn’t die, instead was held captive by JGGY for the 16 years

ao3

“ – his sword has sealed itself. What better evidence that the Yiling Patriarch is dead and gone?”

I’m not, though, Wei Wuxian thought fuzzily. I’m not gone.

Except when he tried to open his eyes, he couldn’t quite manage it. Why couldn’t he open his eyes? Where was he, anyway?

(Dead and gone –)

He remembered the backlash, suddenly, and shuddered. His qi revolting from inside of him, ghostly hands reaching for him, tearing at him – the complete loss of control – pain –  

Am I dead?

Yes, actually, that seemed pretty likely. That backlash…no one could have survived it, not even him.

(Arrogant as always, Wei Wuxian. Haven’t you seen what become of that?)

Okay, I’m dead, he told himself, and it rang true. But that doesn’t answer the question of where am I?

(Questions like “what am I” could be saved for later.)

He could hear, anyway. He wasn’t sure how, but he could. Maybe he could even see?

He tried to see.

He could see.

Blurrily, and not quite right, but he could.

There were people standing around him. The Jin sect, judging by their clothing, and some others – they were arguing over something. Spoils of war…

Hey! He complained. That’s not a spoil of war! That’s my stuff!

Actually, on second thought, maybe they were right. Sure, it was his stuff – was someone trying to lay claim to his shopping list? – but there had been a war, and he’d lost, and that meant his stuff was spoils.

“The greatest contribution, next to the Jiang sect, is ours. Suibian belongs to the Jin sect,” someone said, interrupting Wei Wuxian’s train of thought, and put their hand on him.

Wait.

What?

I’m Suibian?

No, something that wasn’t quite a voice suddenly said. I’m Suibian. You’re Wei Wuxian. Keep it straight.

Wei Wuxian would have gaped, if he’d still had a mouth. Suibian? You – talk?

There was a feeling of amusement. Possibly a bit of mockery. No, definitely mockery, possibly a lot of it.

Is Wei Wuxian’s sword…kind of a dick?

Suibian sniggered.

What am I doing here? Wei Wuxian asked.

I pulled in your souls and spirits when you died, his sword said. They were already setting up soul-summoning rituals for you, and it wouldn’t have gone well for you if they caught you.

No, it wouldn’t have.

You saved me?

I’m your sword, aren’t I? What else am I here for, especially since you no longer wield me?

Wei Wuxian felt a stab of guilt. He’d never once thought about explaining himself to his sword, though in his defense he didn’t know his sword might have feelings on the subject. About that –

Yes, yes, I know, Suibian said. Chenqing explained the whole thing.

…my flute? You talk to my flute?

Please, Suibian said. We’re spiritual weapons. Of course we talk.

Isn’t that only supposed to happen for the weapons of sages? Wei Wuxian argued. Not, you know, run-of-the-mill ones. Er, no offense. Not that you’re not awesome, but I, personally, am very far from a sage.

At least you admit it, Suibian teased. And no, I think that’s just when everyone can start hearing us. We talk amongst ourselves long before that…sometimes I’m jealous of the Nie sect’s sabers. They can talk to their masters a lot earlier than we can.

They can? Even, what, shit he didn’t know any Nie, uh, Nie Huaisang?

…Nie Huaisang doesn’t count and you know it. His saber’s pretty funny, though. Lazier than a sloth.

That sounded about right.

Baxia’s terrifying, though.

That…also sounded right.

Okay, Wei Wuxian said, tearing his mind away from the fascinating question of why the Nie sabers in specific might be able to communicate with their wielders sooner than most and also what that might mean. There were more important things to discuss. Uh, thanks for saving my life. Death? Thanks for saving my souls, anyway.

Don’t embarrass me with gratitude.

Wei Wuxian would have grinned if he’d had a mouth. Yeah, sure, whatever.

They both sniggered at that.

Anyway, what now? I thought I heard…we’re sealed?

How else am I supposed to hide the fact that your souls and spirits are in here? Suibian asked. If someone wields us, they’d know. Wielders always know.

Wei Wuxian didn’t have anything to say about that. He had always known that Suibian was – Suibian. He could have picked up his sword in the dark and known it was his own, rather than another’s.

He just hadn’t known that Suibian had also known.

He’d even known that Suibian had a personality, that he’d – she’d – it –

Hey, do you have a gender? Wei Wuxian asked, distracted. Are you a boy sword or a girl sword –

I am a sword, Suibian said. Please leave your weird human reproduction techniques out of it.

It’s not about reproduction! It’s…hm. Maybe it is about reproduction? I don’t know, I’ve never really questioned it. Something to think about later on. More importantly – what now?

What do you mean?

What do we do now?

I’m not sure I understand.

Wei Wuxian would have rolled his eyes if he’d had them. What is our next step? You rescued me, and now we’re being bartered around as spoils of war. What’s the plan? What do we do now?

Suibian really didn’t seem to understand.

Well, you rescued me! What were you intending happen after that?

Nothing, Suibian said. I rescued you. That was the complete action. There was nothing after that.

You didn’t make a plan?

I’m a sword. We get wielded by others; we don’t – or at least, rarely – take initiative on our own. I’m not a Nie saber or something; I’m not going to hop up one day and go out hunting for evil on my own.

…is that a thing Nie sabers do? Wei Wuxian asked. On second thought, don’t answer that, I don’t have time to process it at the moment. Listen, now that you’ve rescued me, we still have to do something, right? We can’t just sit around on a shelf somewhere in the Jin sect as a trophy!

Suibian’s silence was almost a little pitying.

We can’t do that, Wei Wuxian repeated. Right?  

They were, in fact, placed on a Jin shelf, at least in the beginning.

It was a prominent place, meant to show him off – show it off, really, since no one knew Wei Wuxian was in there.

Wei Wuxian hated it.

He hated the way Jin Guangshan smirked at the sword, very obviously thinking about how he’d ground Wei Wuxian under his heel. He hated the fact that the man was using his research to develop demonic cultivation into something truly monstrous and vile, the reports that were delivered to Jin Guangshan within Wei Wuxian’s hearing enough to make his stomach turn if he still had one.

Reports of entire sects murdered, men women children all, brutally slaughtered as experiments in tests – each one delivered with a calm smile and no regret.

Wei Wuxian hated that.

He hated, too, the fact that his demonic cultivation, that new invention of his, was treated as nothing but a stepping stone, a tool used to help the Jin sect gain power and ascendance over the other sects – that was what this had always been about, he realized belatedly, too late to do any good.

He’d always known that Jiang Cheng had only cast him out of the Jiang sect because of pressure from the rest of the cultivation world, but somehow he hadn’t realized that that pressure was manufactured, that it was intentional, that he’d always been meant to either yield or die because the Jin sect wanted his power and his Tiger Seal and his secrets. Even if he’d still had a golden core, even if he’d set aside demonic cultivation the way they asked, it still would have ended up the same way in the end.

He’d given the Jiang sect power and influence – and the Jin sect didn’t like that.

But what Wei Wuxian hated most of all, above even the sickening reports of the Jin sect’s crimes, was –

“You look well, Sect Leader Jiang,” Jin Guangshan said, blatantly lying.

Jiang Cheng’s eyes were rimmed with red, whether with tears or an incipient qi deviation, and he stared vacantly at Jin Guangshan as if he didn’t quite understand his meaning. He’d lost weight, his cheekbones sharper than they’d been since the worst days of the war when they hadn’t had enough food, and he didn’t seem entirely – sane.

What happened to him? Wei Wuxian demanded. He might be the one who was living a half-life, but Jiang Cheng looked it.

He’s all alone, Suibian said. Like a sword that hasn’t been drawn in years, not even to be sharpened –

I said I was sorry about no wielding you, okay! But no, seriously, what have the Jin sect been doing to him?

Why are you asking me? I’ve been here, same as you.

“Stop the small talk,” Jiang Cheng finally said, interrupting Jin Guangshan’s odious discourse about the general state of the cultivation world, the satisfactory improvement in trade, and even the weather. “We both know why I’m here.”

Jin Guangshan stopped talking, and smiled his viper’s smile that Wei Wuxian wanted to scrub off his face. Preferably with the flat of Suibian’s blade. “It’s a very impudent request, you know,” he said, leaning back. “One could even say that it’s offensive that you even suggested it.”

Jiang Cheng stared at him. His knuckles were white from how hard his fists were clenched. “That’s not a no,” he said. His normally sharp voice was dulled. “That’s not a no.”

“It’s not,” Jin Guangshan agreed. “But if you want something from me, you have to give something in return.”

Haven’t you taken enough from him? Wei Wuxian shouted. You forced him to get rid of me, you forced my hand at the Qiongqi Path and led to everything that happened next, you – you – you greedy pig!

Now, now, Suibian said. What have pigs ever done to you?

Jiang Cheng swallowed and closed his eyes. He looked tired – exhausted – broken into pieces. The Jin sect ought to be helping him rebuild, helping him survive, not extorting him for whatever it was they wanted now.

“I understand,” Jiang Cheng said, through thin and bloodless lips.

Don’t do it! Whatever it is they want from you, refuse, it’s not worth it, Wei Wuxian tried to tell him, though he knew Jiang Cheng couldn’t hear him, couldn’t understand. You don’t know what they’re doing in secret, in the dark – if you knew, you’d be disgusted. Horrified. I know you would be. You’d stop them. If you agree to whatever it is that they want, you’ll think that you were complicit in it when you find out about it, no matter if you weren’t. Don’t agree!

But of course Jiang Cheng couldn’t hear him.

“I’m glad you do,” Jin Guangshan said, slippery and slimy even as he pretended to sound paternal, and Wei Wuxian might learn to hate him even more than he hated Wen Chao. He put his hand on Jiang Cheng’s shoulder, squeezed it, and Jiang Cheng let him – yes, Wei Wuxian could easily learn to hate Jin Guangshan, Jin Guangshan and Jin Guangyao and all the rest of them, just as much as the Wen sect. Maybe even more. “I look forward to working together with the Jiang sect in the future.”

What Jin Guangshan wanted – in exchange for granting whatever request it was that Jiang Cheng had that mattered so much to him – wasn’t going to be anything as easy as cooperation, and Wei Wuxian knew it; he knew it and he burned with the knowledge of it.

With the knowledge that he’d left Jiang Cheng to face this alone.

That he’d allowed himself to leave his brother behind because of the Jin sect’s manipulations – that if he’d only trusted Jiang Cheng enough to share with him his weakness, to stand with him rather than apart from him, they could have stood up to the Jin sect, to the world, they could have done something, and instead he’d selfishly thought he could do everything on his own, that he didn’t need anyone, that they would be better off without him than with him –

“Yes,” Jiang Cheng murmured. He looked even more broken now than he’d been before. “As you say.”

Jin Guangshan’s hand, still on Jiang Cheng’s shoulder, tightened. It was visible, which meant that Jin Guangshan’s grip was probably bruising, breaking. “Don’t forget to respect your elders, Sect Leader Jiang. You mustn’t forget your etiquette.”

Wei Wuxian had always respected Jiang Cheng, even when they were children, even when his arrogance refused to admit that there was anyone who could be anywhere near as good as himself, and that respect had only grown over the years. Brave, independent Jiang Cheng, who’d fought so hard to build the Jiang sect back up into something of its own, refusing to yield to fate and allow his inheritance to scatter into the wind –

Watching him kneel to pay homage to a monster, to call him ‘Chief Cultivator’ and agree numbly to support his future proposals – practically giving away his Jiang sect’s independence –

Wei Wuxian wanted to cry.

(Maybe this was what it had all been about. Not his demonic cultivation, not the Tiger Seal, not the power they could give to the Jin sect – this. This display of domination, of oppression; the Jin sect putting the Jiang underfoot.)

Whatever you’re getting for this had better be worth it, Jiang Cheng!

When it was done, Jiang Cheng looked up. “I’ll go now,” he said, throat hoarse as if from keeping himself from screaming – or crying. “I’ll take him – there won’t be any trouble, will there?”

“None whatsoever,” Jin Guangshan said, and smiled. “After all, A-Ling is very young. It’s no hardship to let him be raised a few years by his maternal family, to learn the traditions of the Jiang sect…since after all his poor mother isn’t around to teach him.”

Jiang Cheng barely flinched as he stood to go – he was beyond that – but Wei Wuxian howled in rage and despair.

We have to be able to do something, he begged Suibian. Something – anything! I can’t…this is my fault. If it wasn’t for me, he wouldn’t have to do this – please!

He had to admit that Jiang Cheng wasn’t wrong, to do what he did. Complicity, future guilt, present humiliation...it was all worth it. For all the future pain it would cause Jiang Cheng, it was worth it – to him, to Wei Wuxian – anything would be worth saving Jiang Yanli’s son.

Nothing has changed, Suibian said, solemn for once. I’m still just a sword. I can seal myself, but I can’t act on my own, not without a wielder.

Then what do I do?

Cultivate, Suibian said. A lot. I’ve been thinking about it: sword spirits are a thing, so are ghosts – it’ll take a while, but if we work at it, you’ll eventually be able to float outside of me. A while after that, you might even be able to manifest to humans. We’re both pretty bright; it shouldn’t take more than a few years.

Years!

Were you expecting this to be easy?

Wei Wuxian thought about Jiang Cheng, gritting his teeth and disregarding his pride to save his nephew; thought about Jin Guangyao smiling peaceably as he reported on the latest atrocities their pet demonic cultivators had caused in the same tone he used to discuss the weather; thought about that poor child, Mo Xuanyu, who’d been dragged into the Jin sect’s pit of vipers –

No, he said. I guess not.

Let’s begin.

[spooky-z]

SOULMATE AU:: First Swap

Look who's back... That's right! Soulmate AU.

I intend to make a shortfic with five chapters, after finishing posting Bombshell (which already has the first of three chapters posted HERE)

Here they are 7 and their behavior may seem strange, but... Damian. So, yeah.

Soulmate AU:: 1 and 2.

1.4K

Maribat by @ozmav

Marinette was... irritated, so to speak, with Mlle. Bustier.

The woman had once again invalidated her feelings for Chloe. Chloe, who was being particularly mean to her, because she was jealous that Marinette had a soulmate, but she didn't.

Chloe had - as always - thrown a tantrum because Marinette had achieved a better grade than she in the test and didn’t shut up for a second until that moment.

Marinette's head was throbbing with the start of a monstrous headache.

“But Mlle. Bustier!” The blonde whined. "I'm sure Dupain-Cheng cheated!" The high-pitched voice resonated through the windowpanes and hurt the students' eardrums.

"Chloe, please." Mlle. Bustier asked, frowning, probably as irritated as the rest of the students.

Chloe snorted indignantly. "Then I will tell my-"

That was when Marinette felt the comforting presence at her side. Catching the movement with a quick look before she turned around completely so she could look at him better.

The skin kissed by the sun, black hair and short. He dressed like the shinobis she saw in the action movies that papa let her watch when mama wasn't around. Sitting in the chair that was previously available, there was an air of danger around him.

But what caught her attention most were his eyes. His eyes that matched hers perfectly, and he was beautiful.

"Thank you." He replied, his cheeks turning a shy pink.

Marinette squeaked, her hands rising automatically to cover her mouth, drawing the attention of Nino and Kim sitting across from her.

"Are you okay, MDC?" Kim asked.

She shook her head frantically. "If you say..." Nino replied suspiciously.

Marinette took her hands from her mouth to smile at them and so the two turned their attention to the interrupted conversation.

She looked at him again, feeling overwhelmed by the flood of information that hit her.

The world around them changing rapidly.

"Wow." Marinette sighs.

She looked at the breathtaking landscape.

The place they were in looked like a big Asian-style mansion on top of a mountain. She could see the clouds from the floor she was on and how the sun reflected against the rocks around the building.

It was breathtaking.

"I agree with you." He says, his eyes glued to her.

A commotion attracts Marinette's attention.

Underneath where they were, she could see other people - Ghuls - in the same type of black clothes as he was, training with katanas and their face covered.

The League of Assassins. Heir. Batman. Damian.

"Oh." She turns to look at him again. An unknown feeling burning in her chest and a lump stuck in her throat.

Her eyes start to burn, a sob escaping without her permission. "I-" Tears clouded her vision, wanting to-

He- Damian, spread his arms, an intelligible expression on his face and a guilty glint in his eyes.

She didn't hesitate for a second before jumping into his arms.

Finally. Finally, she was able to touch, see, smell him, melt against the heat of his body, unite with him.

"I'm so happy." She sniffs against his neck. “I've been so worried about you! Always hurting yourself and- the pains I felt coming from you...!”

Damian tightens his arms around her.

"I'm fine, ya rouhi (my soul)." He responds smoothly.

Marinette violently denies it. "No, you're not!"

“I am- now I am. You don't have to worry anymore.” Damian whispers against her shoulder.

She smiles at the choice of words, her heart warming more and more. It was like the sky, like she was floating with clouds. She never wanted it to end.

“Mlle. Bustier, Maritrash is being scary!” Chloe's voice frightens Marinette and she moves away from Damian back to the classroom, where everyone is looking at her strangely.

Chloe wags her finger at her, tapping her foot on the floor.

"She's talking strange and smiling like a lunatic!"

Beside Marinette, Damian snorts angrily. "She's just annoying."

"I know. Most of the time I just ignore her, you know? Like a persistent fly.” The girl responds, an acid touch in the words.

Chloe gasps, knowing that Marinette was talking about her.

“Mlle. Bustier!” She whimpers.

The teacher sighs tiredly with Chloe's tantrums and the way Marinette was dealing with it. She, better than anyone, knew that it was not right to disrupt others because she was frustrated.

"Marinette, apologize to Chloe." Bustier asks. "You were rude with your words."

The girl looks at the teacher in disbelief and Chloe smiles convinced.

"But I didn't do anything!" She complains. "Chloe who's being stupid again!"

Everyone in the classroom chokes on Marinette's words. Chloe starts to cry and Bustier gets up from her seat scandalized.

"Marinette Dupain-Cheng!" She slaps her hand on the table. "Apologize right now or I will be forced to call your parents at school!" Threatened.

Most of Marinette's classmates were unable to notice the change in the girl's appearance or how her posture had hardened. Not even the change in the girl's eye color was noticed.

Only Kim, Nino - who were sitting closest to her -, Sabrina who knew Marinette and Mlle. Bustier, who, despite everything, was very observant.

'Marinette' leaned back against the back of the seat, her lips pressed in a thin line, her eyes - both green, but with different hues - cold as ice and her hair had darkened to a glossy black.

"I hope that this attitude will be taken not only towards me, but with the annoying girl as well." She says.

"Annoying girl?" Chloe mutters incredulously.

"Why would I do that?" Mlle. Bustier replies. "The only person I see being rude is you."

Marinette throws her head back and laughs sarcastically before looking back at the teacher. The face as hard as stone.

"That was a good joke, mademoiselle." She stands up, arms crossed behind her. "That-" She stops as if she's hearing something. “Chloe, right. She has been distracting everyone since you started class. Making meaningless complaints or just whining and so far, I haven't seen you scold her for it.”

Mlle. Bustier swallows.

"B-But-"

“No ‘buts’!” Marinette cuts the woman. "It gets special treatment just for being the daughter of politician, is it?"

Chloe tosses her hair over her shoulders, arms crossed. “My father is the new mayor of Paris. Mayor! He rules everything, so do I!”

Marinette makes an 'hm' sound without opening her mouth, looking critically from Chloe to Bustier - who had a greenish tinge to her face -.

"It will be something to tell the parents of Dupont students, then." There is a dangerous edge to the girl's tone. "Imagine the scandal that will be when the word comes out that the mayor of Paris and his daughter, has power over the way the school is run"

Marinette smiled and went down the stairs towards Chloe.

Mlle. Bustier sighs at the sweet girl's behavior. Understanding coming to her.

"You are not Marinette." She says.

The girl smiles, an evil look in her eyes.

"Bingo!" She claps excitedly. “I thought you were more stupid. I was sincerely concerned about the school education that habibit is receiving.”

The students made protest sounds with the girl's harsh words, but the look she sent them made everyone freeze in their seats quickly shutting up.

"Who are you-" Chloe fumbles, shocked by the color of Marinette's eyes.

"I think you'd better be quiet, Bourgeois." Non-Marinette says. "Otherwise, you will discover one of the many ways I know how to cut a person's tongue." She makes mimics a scissor with her fingers, without taking her eyes off Chloe.

The blonde's eyes widen in fright.

“Or who knows, one day you may wake up bald... There are many options on the table. I can even let you choose.” Non-Marinette taps her finger against her chin thoughtfully.

Chloe walks away. Hands quickly going to the head, trying to protect the hair away from Marinette.

"I-I don't feel well." Mumbles, picking up the yellow bag from the table. "I think I'm going to go home... Daddy will call dismissing me... Bye!" She doesn't wait for Mlle Bustier's response before running out of the classroom.

Non-Mari smiled beatifically, enjoying the whole scene of the girl's escape and staying until Chloe was out of sight. Then the expression darkened when her attention turned to Bustier.

"You and I are going to have a very serious conversation now."

And Mlle. Bustier swallows, feeling threatened by the girl's words.

[tag list closed]

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[bokutoslittlebird]

In Your Eyes

Bokuto Kōtarō x Chubby!Reader

Author’s Note : There are some dark things in here and if you feel suicidal please do not keep it bottled in. It’s not healthy and needs to be addressed. The really bad stuff isn’t until the middle (right before the smut, basically), so be warned! That’s where the suicidal stuff is and like I said, if you do any of this or feel suicidal please seek professional help because it’s not worth keeping unhealthy feelings inside ; If you are wondering why Bokuto’s obsessed with licking and biting in this, I have been rereading a doujin where Bokuto does that and, well, it’s hot ; I swear this would not have taken me so long if I didn’t keep crying while writing it omg I would be dead if I had a shot every time I had to stop writing so I could wipe my tears and snot. This is why I don’t like to read or write angst but wow was that therapeutic.

Warnings: angst, fat shaming, use of the word “pig”, body dysmorphia (inability to look in a mirror), vomit, suicidal tendencies/intention (via overdose) + implied past actions alcohol, soft!dom Bokuto, choking, creampie(s), mating press+doggy style, licking and biting, facesitting

The cheers of the crowd erupted as the whistle blew. Once again, the MSBY Black Jackals had won. This match was against the Red Falcons, another team in the V.1 division. It was a close call, but Hinata managed to break the deuce with his monstrous quick attack and seal the set with their victory.

The team was jumping and bouncing, giving out high fives as they did. Of course, they had to shake hands with the Adlers, bowing to the audience and thanking them for their support. When Bokuto did his classic ‘Bokuto Beam’ move towards the audience, you could hear the girls squealing and giggling. It isn’t like they didn’t do the same when Atsumu or Hinata waved to them, but it hit you different. After all, they were beautiful in your eyes, slim and flawless.

Oh, yes. You’re the MSBY Black Jackal’s manager, being a classmate of Hinata in his second and third year (as in you tutored him and helped manage the volleyball club with Yachi). Hinata was your first friend, which kind of sounds pathetic. It was, if you were being honest with yourself. Being heavier than the average girl at your school subjected you to bullying and pranks that ended with you crying until you threw up. Hinata never made you feel like that, though. He always made sure you were comfortable and every member of the club at Karasuno treated you like an angel. You ended up applying to be the MSBY manager when Hinata asked, saying they needed a manager and wondered if you could apply. Well, it was either that or finding a job at the circus, as your family would sneer at you. Truly, Hinata was the first to accept you.

Once you got the job, it was like being back at Karasuno, honestly. Everyone was friendly and treated you no differently than they would treat others. However, you wished one of them would treat you differently.

Bokuto.

He was the ace of the team, a goofy fella that could make anyone smile. Including you. Aside from Hinata, he made you feel accepted and made you forget about any woes and horrid thoughts you were facing. He didn’t know about them like Hinata did, but you were sure he’d treat you different if he knew.

Once everything was packed up, you and the coach headed out, the team not too far behind you.

“Shōyō-kun, that was one of yer best sets yet!” Atsumu cheerily piped up, walking behind Hinata. Hinata was right beside you, as he always was.

“I’m glad you think so! I don’t know if we can surprise the Adlers next time, though. Kageyama still knows my tricks,” he huffed as he finished his statement, putting his hair down so he could mock Kageyama. You giggled at his antics.

“Alright, change up and meet at the bus in 10 minutes, let’s go!” Coach commanded. Each member voiced their acquiescence. You decided to use this opportunity to go to the bathroom. After all, their match lasted almost an hour, if not more.

In the restrooms, you were almost done when you heard a bunch of girls giggling as they entered. Instead of leaving, you stayed in place, waiting for them to go.

You wish you hadn’t.

“Gosh, those boys are so attractive!” One of them said. Two voices agreed.

“Have you seen Atsumu and Kageyama? They’re both so hot!”

“I was too focused on that number 12,” oh no, “Bokuto, I think? He’s a good looking man, bet he has the stamina of a god, too,”

“Yeah, it’s a shame their brand is ruined by that mascot of theirs.” What?

“Mascot? Oh! You mean the pig? Yeah, she does put a damper on everything, doesn’t she? Imagine being that attractive and having that thing follow you around!” The girl cackled, her friends following suit. You felt your stomach drop, tears springing in the corner of your eyes as you listened to them.

It was easy to forget you were different when you with the team since they made you feel normal, but that didn’t mean others wouldn’t notice you.

The girls eventually left, the door slamming shut behind them. Whether they came in there to do makeup or just talk shit about you knowing you were in there didn’t matter. Not when you were crumpled up on the floor as sobs wracked your frame. Life sucks.

It’s not like you didn’t try! That’s the other thing! You try to lose weight and nothing happens, exercising doesn’t do much and diets are practically useless. You used to go to the gym, but stopped when you kept getting stares. You also used to run with Hinata in the mornings, but since he was so much faster than you, you stopped. What’s the point if you’re panting and breathless after a minute while he’s still going strong after 30 minutes? It felt like nothing would ever help.

A buzzing interrupted your crying fest, you sniffling as you wipe away the tears and look at the screen. It’s from the groupchat, Hinata asking if you’re okay and they were all at the bus. You typed back a quick ‘K’ and got up. The best you could hope for was nobody would point out the red eyes and the sniffling.

Hinata knew of your troubles, being there for you when you broke down in school more often than not. When you confided that he was the first person you felt comfortable with, it broke him. Seeing you had bottled up your emotions because nobody bothered to listen or care, it made him want to include you in his life. He would invite you over for dinner and his sister would excitedly talk to you, never making you feel uncomfortable. When he heard that you were in Osaka, he immediately called you up about being the MSBY manager.

He also knew of your crush on Bokuto. It was obvious to him, with how you looked at the ace with longing. Hinata even encouraged you to confess, but that was quickly dismissed when you told Hinata how you felt like Bokuto deserved better than someone like you. Bokuto was muscular, attractive, and charming — in your eyes, he deserved to be with someone his equal. That did not mean you. Hinata knew of your troubles, but he also knew of Bokuto’s. Bokuto has a crush on you, too, finding himself more accepted with you around. Contrary to the ace’s personality, he was insecure in a lot of things. He wasn’t very smart, which was often pointed out by others. He knew when someone was upset, though, so he always knew he needed to make you feel better.

Once you arrived at the bus, Hinata greeted you as everyone else had boarded. “What’s wrong?”

“The same old thing, you know,” you sniffle, your voice cracking as you remember the hateful words. Hinata’s face soured as you said those words. Back in high school, he would sit down and cry with you. Now, he was tired of you still being picked on as an adult.

“Immature, that’s what they are. Come on, we’re gonna stop by that restaurant you love.” Oh great, food. You may have been starving when the match ended, but after the incident, you just wanted to go home and cry. You numbly nodded and followed Hinata onto the bus. The coach didn’t bother pointing out anything, but he sent you a sad look when he noticed the red eyes on you. You sadly smiled and continued to your seat, behind the coach as the bus started to move. Curling into your jacket, you tried to think of something else.

The restaurant was a disaster. Everyone had been excited and gotten off the bus when a bunch of fangirls came up to them. You had just smiled and shook your head, feeling better already. At least, you had been until the girls noticed you and gave you looks of disgust. It was short lived, their attention turning back to the boys, so you briskly walked off, into the restaurant, away from the crowd. It took almost 5 minutes for the girls to leave, but you refused to eat anything other than a salad and drink water. Even then, you excused yourself to the restroom to take a break, crying and attempting to force yourself to throw up. Once home, you locked the front door and let your emotions spill out. Crying and screaming was common, so that’s what you did. Then came the process — getting rid of any reflective surface. Turning off the lights, turning on the tv, covering the mirrors with sheets, closing the blinds, shutting out any possibility of looking at yourself. Even with nobody around, those words and looks stuck and struck deep, you eventually curling into yourself on your bed as you cried yourself to sleep.

The next day came, your alarm ringing and the sound bouncing off the walls. You turned it off, completely turning off your phone. Instead of dealing with alarms and people, you’d suffer alone behind the comfort of your home.

The team was worried, you were never late. Bokuto was more pouty than normal, your cheerful greeting missing from his morning and his bear hug. Atsumu also missed your cheerful greeting, asking Hinata if he knew of anything. When Hinata said he did not, he texted and called you, receiving no answer.

Okay, then he’d go to you.

Hinata had stayed at your apartment before, spending the night or just to hang out. Sometimes he brings you food and snacks when you need it, or he just checks on you. He has a spare key in case of anything and he’s glad he does when the door’s locked with no answer. He calls you once more time, knocking until he hears something. It’s faint, but it sounds like movement. So, you’re awake. But not answering the door. Sighing, he unlocks the door.

The apartment is not surprising to him, the windows covered and reflective surfaces covered. He was afraid of this, but he continues on. When he reaches your room, he hears more sniffling and crying. “[Y/N]?”

“Leave me be, Shōyō,”

“[Y/N], please. The team misses you,”

“Fuck off. I’m a charity case to them, I know it. Why else would they keep me around? I should just wallow away,” your voice sounds tired, the thought of the boys sticking with you out of pity a common thought you’ve had.

A thought that isn’t true, but breaks Hinata’s heart. “You know that’s not true. Everyone loves you! Even Bokuto,”

“Shōyō, shut up. Empty words do nothing. Maybe it’d be better if I just... stayed here. Maybe I should just end the misery,”

“Do not. Talk like that. Please.” Hinata’s voice cracks with each word. He knew you were bad, but you could pretend like everything was fine. He should’ve known the harsh treatment yesterday would affect you like this. He should’ve spent the night with you when you ordered a salad and a water. He should’ve told the coach or Meian when you went to the bathroom for 10 minutes that you were trying to throw up. Your lie of there being a line was obvious, a common excuse after a long time away. Hinata felt his chest tighten as he realized you didn’t answer him. “I’m getting Bokuto.”

“Shōyō! Don’t you dare!” Your screams do nothing as he basically runs out your apartment, you flinging the door open to see him gone. You start crying more, afraid that Bokuto will see just how pathetic you are. If he ever looked at you with disgust, the way everyone else does, you don’t know if you could continue on with your life.

Maybe it’d be better that way.

Bokuto doesn’t really know what’s going on, one moment he’s stretching and the next he’s running to the train station with Hinata’s words repeating over and over again.

‘[Y/N] needs you’

Bokuto’s first thought immediately went into the gutters, a blush coating his cheeks until Hinata continued.

‘I think she’s in trouble’

With those two sentences, Bokuto ran off, forgetting his bag and just taking his phone with him. He only needed his phone, really. Strange stares from the public didn’t bother him, he knows he’s still wearing his practice clothes and his knee pads, the material looking like leggings. He made it to the train station before it left, getting on and calling Hinata back.

“Bokuto?”

“I’m on the train, is everything okay?” He was panting, the train station being a bit away from the practice gym. He didn’t even bother sitting, just standing beside the doors.

“I don’t know. She’s.. She’s in a bad place. She won’t listen to me, but she’ll listen to you,” Hinata’s words are slightly muffled, sniffling accompanying his sentence. The words make Bokuto’s chest tighten.

“I don’t know what I can do, you’re her best friend. What could I do?”

“She’s in love with you. Has been for a while, actually. I know you can help her where I can’t. Just — I’ll give you her apartment key when you get to the station. Once I do, please go to her. Please,”

“I—“ Bokuto’s eyes are wide, his face definitely pink now. He’s still worried about you, but the idea of you actually liking him — no, loving him the same way he loves you, it makes him giddy. It gives him the push he needs to make it to you.

As soon as the doors open, there’s Hinata, holding a key ring for him to take. Bokuto doesn’t hesitate, a quick nod in Hinata’s direction before he rushes off to your apartment complex. All of the boys have been to your apartment before, but Bokuto and Hinata are the only ones who know the way to the place. Bokuto has gotten a bit drunk before and ended up crashing at your place, as well as just staying there when practices run late since his place is the farthest away from their practice gym.

Arriving at the apartment, he slides the key in and turns the knob, momentarily confused at the sheets covering your glass coffee table and the TV, but he continues in. He knocks on your bedroom door. “[Y/N]? Are you in here?” When he gets no response, he freaks out. Turning the knob, he notices you’re not in there, but there are more sheets covering things, as well as the blinds being shut. Even more confused, he turns back to the hallway and notices the bathroom door is closed. Fear strikes him as he thinks he knows why you’re not answering — he hopes he’s wrong.

When he opens the door, he realizes he was partially right. With a bottle of wine pressed to your lips, an empty pill bottle in one hand, your eyes wide as Bokuto’s golden eyes met yours. A brief moment of anger flashed across his face before you were forced over the toilet, his thick fingers going down your throat.

“Shtap!” Your muffled voice comes out, gagging around his fingers as he attempts to activate your gag reflex. He doesn’t stop, your squirming easily quelled against his strong grip on your arms pinning them back. You feel the bile rise and then you’re expelling the contents of your stomach into the toilet, coughing and sputtering as the painkillers you just took are now emptied into the porcelain bowl. Bokuto doesn’t let go of you as you cry, trying to get out of his hold.

He doesn’t know what he should bring up first, the fact Hinata called him over or the fact he caught you in the middle of a suicide attempt. You’re screaming and telling him to get off of you, but he instead holds you closer, your sobs fading as tears spill out of his own eyes, staining the hoodie you’re in. “Why would you do that?” He whispers.

You don’t know how to respond to that, instead choosing the phrase, “why not?” His face scrunches up and you don’t know if he’s in pain or angry as he shakes you.

“Why would you do that?! Don’t you know how many people would be distraught over you? Hinata would be inconsolable! Who would TsumTsum and I joke with? Did you even think about that? Did you think about me?” His voice is loud and it makes you cry harder, the weight of his words hitting deep. Bokuto’s been there for you through a lot and you’ve been facing all your problems on your own. “You can’t just do that! That’s selfish!”

“Why would it matter, Bo? What’s the point? I can’t face myself let alone face my feelings! Why not just stop hurting?” You’re both crying, him holding onto you tightly as you dry heave a bit, a stinging in the back of your throat and an arrow in your heart.

“Why can’t you face your feelings? You have Hinata and me!” Before you can tell him something else, he presses his lips to your forehead. You freeze. “I don’t know what I’d do if you left me. I don’t think I could live without you,” He dryly chuckles, tears still streaking down his face. You hiccup and look down, afraid to face him.

“You don’t mean that. You’re trying to make me feel better, I know. Just be honest with your feelings. I’m already low enough, no reason to keep up appearances,” more tears come out as you try to not break into another fit. Bokuto would never look at you the same you looked at him, especially not after seeing you like this. You couldn’t blame him, you look like a mess in your old sweatpants and the old hoodie that felt too tight even if it was one of the largest sizes you could find. Your hair is no better, hasn’t been brushed and you’ve been in bed for a while.

“Hinata said you loved me—“

“Stop,”

“So I came because he said he was worried—“

“You don’t need to say it,”

“If I had been a second later—“

“Stop it, please,”

“I wouldn’t have been able to tell you my feelings—“

“Please, don’t,” you cover your face, tears blurring your vision anyways. Bokuto removes your hands, looking into your eyes. His own are full of warmth and love, not disgust or regret. It makes you cry more, a horrible wail as you dive into his chest. He laughs as his arms wrap around you, comforting in these dark moments.

“I love you, you know? I have for a while,”

“Why? What do you see in me? What could I possibly have to attract you? I’m not—“

“Don’t say it. Don’t say ‘I’m not like other girls’, because everyone’s different. You make me want to be a better man, you make me excited for each new day. Nobody can compare to you,”

“I can’t.. I’m sorry, I can’t trust you. I’ve— I’ve been made fun of for too long, I want to trust you, I want to love you, I want to be with you, but I don’t know if my heart can take another one,”

“Another— what?”

“It’s a long story, I don’t want to bore you,”

“Baby, I’m not going anywhere,” he nuzzles your cheek, more tears spilling out as your chest tightens with love.

You decided to explain to him what happened in the past and how you trusted Hinata. Bokuto brought you to your room and made you some tea, brought a bottle of water, and also made you a snack. The thought of eating made you feel sick, but a pouty buff man had you slowly nibbling on the piece of toast. You hadn’t eaten since dinner the previous day, so you wanted to inhale it, but you didn’t think you could stomach it.

After explaining everything to Bokuto, you tried to laugh it off, saying it wasn’t a big deal, but he refused to accept that. A quick call to Hinata to let him know you were okay and that Bokuto would be taking a day off was the next step, letting Bokuto stay with you for the rest of the day. He didn’t want to leave you alone, the fear of almost losing you still making his heart race in a bad way. Even as you just scrolled through InstaGram on your phone, he worried if he left you’d go back to the dark headspace. He couldn’t stop it, but he figured he could prevent it.

The first thing to change your mood is get you in the shower.

When he bounced back into your room, you looked at him from your position. You looked exhausted, the toast only half eaten but the glass was empty. Bokuto shook his head and clicked his tongue. “You need to refresh yourself. Time to take a shower!”

“What are you, my dad? If you want me to do it then make me,” You muttered, snuggling back under the covers. Bokuto closed his eyes and sighed, trying to not say anything sexual.

“I will throw you over my shoulder and into the bathroom. Don’t underestimate me, [Y/N],” the bed dips as he sits on the edge. “I’ll strip you down and wash you if I have to,”

“Why are you so forceful? Damn,” you made it sound like a bad thing, but you were smiling. “Fine, I’ll shower. You don’t gotta wash me, I’m not a baby,”

“But you’re my baby?” He sounded so confused, you freezing half out of the bed. Clearing your throat, you continued.

“Uh, sure. Are you planning on leaving soon? Or..”

“Nope! I’m staying over. I’ll change the sheets while you shower, too!”

“Oh, okay,” you say, numbly getting up to get clothes. With the lack of clean clothes, you have a few shirts and some pajama pants, but your stomach twists as you realize why they’re clean. They don’t fit as nicely as the other clothes, so you face two options: reuse the hoodie you’re wearing or face the humiliation of putting on a tight shirt. Thinking of the restriction, you decide the hoodie would be best. A large pair of pajama pants and a pair of panties is all you take, but Bokuto notices the lack of clothes.

“Are you just changing your pants? You’re showering, right?�� Hes rifling through his bag, planning on changing out his practice clothes while you’re in the shower. He doesn’t want to get your clean sheets dirty, after all.

“Um, I’m out of shirts, so.. I’ll just reuse the hoodie,” you shrug, not seeing a problem. His eyes light up as he holds a finger up, digging through his bag once more. Apparently, Hinata dropped it off while you were taking a nap, all that crying had exhausted you. Bokuto smiles brightly as he pulls out his own hoodie, the black hoodie with the golden MSBY brand and the Black Jackal claws. “I don’t think—“

“I’ve been dreaming of you in my hoodie for some time, so this is a perfect opportunity! I’d prefer you to wear this,”

“Uh, I’m pretty big, Bokuto. I don’t think it’ll fit, if I’m being honest,” you look down at the ground, the disgust from earlier rising in your chest. Bokuto just tilts his head to the side.

“I think it’ll fit. It’s pretty big on me, so it’ll fit. If it doesn’t, let me know. I’ll get you something else,” he just shrugs, holding out the hoodie. His name is on the back and in a way, it feels like he’s marking his territory. You take it, thanking him as you head towards the bathroom. If it didn’t fit, you didn’t know what you’d do.

When you finished washing up, you put on the clothes. As big as Bokuto was, you still didn’t expect the hoodie to fit. When it slid on easily, you were highly surprised, but also it took you a moment to collect yourself. Seeing you in his hoodie was something out of your wildest dreams, him even telling you he’s fantasized about it making your body hotter than it should be. You had to calm yourself down before exiting the bathroom, entering the bedroom to see him lying on the bed in sweatpants. That’s it.

“Where the hell are your clothes?!” You cover your face, spreading your fingers a bit to see him stand up excitedly.

“You look so good in my hoodie!” He hugged you tightly, lifting you up a bit.

“Don’t pick me up, put on a shirt!” The only thing separating your skin from his was the hoodie which, well, wasn’t very thick. The zipper itself was as high as it could go but still felt too low.

“Why? Don’t I look good? Are you uncomfortable?”

“Yes, you look good and I’m uncomfortable. This is just a weird situation,” you try to explain... as if you had a shred of dignity left. The laptop propped open with the opening of your favorite movie caught your attention. “Are you gonna watch a movie?”

“We’re gonna watch it! To make you feel better, of course!” He seemed so proud of himself, standing with his fists on his hips as he smiled. You shook your head, rolling your eyes.

“Okay, then. Do you want snacks?”

“Snacks?!”

After getting snacks for the movie, to which he fed you some while you fed him, you ended up falling asleep as you watched the movie. It was nice and warm under the covers and Bokuto’s body heat right next to you helped to lull you to sleep. He didn’t seem to notice you falling asleep until your head hit his shoulder, eyes closed as you peacefully slept. After pressing a kiss to your forehead, he closed to laptop and got comfortable under the sheets. The worry of him losing you was still there, but he kept his arms around you tightly in case it was a dream. Like you, he hoped it wasn’t.

Waking up wasn’t that bad, an urge to quench your dry throat a common thing to wake up to. What wasn’t common, however, was the thing poking your butt. Now fully awake, you tried to shoot up in bed to see what was going on but Bokuto’s arms held you down. It was then you realized what was poking you. Attempting to get his arms off of you was a hard feat, trying to squeeze out of the grip when he moaned. You froze and looked at his face, still asleep. Attempting to move again, he let out another one. It didn’t take a genius to figure it out.

He was having a wet dream. In your bed. Beside you.

Your immediate thought was who? Your next thought was me? You dismissed that idea, rolling your eyes as if that could happen. Well, until your name came past his lips. You were surprised to hear it, even if he showed and attempted to prove his feelings for you. Him dreaming of you subconsciously? It gave you confidence.

Enough confidence to wake him up and let him continue his dream in reality? No.

But, you didn’t think you’d have another dark episode anytime soon. He didn’t seem to relent his grip on your body, so you dealt with it, staring at the wall in the dark as he continued his noises. Well, at least until he bucked his hips. You gasped as he did, him waking up to your noise. “You ‘kay? Somethin’ wrong?”

Wide eyes looked at him, before glancing down and flickering back up. He follows your eyes and his face goes red. It’s hard to tell in the dark, but the moonlight coming in from the uncovered window illuminates enough. “I am so sorry, I’ll le—“

“Why?” You can’t stop yourself from asking, immediately smacking your forehead. He’s a bit confused from your actions, but you continue. “Um, I’d, uh- I’d like to know what you dreaming about.” Confidence? Yeah, right. You’re practically shaking from the fear of his answer. Of course, it was your name but you could’ve heard wrong, right? Yeah, you—

“My boner speaks for itself, doesn’t it?” Does he have shame? You just look at him so exasperated as he just stares at you, not too sure what you were expecting. “Or do you not know?”

“I— Okay. Was it me?”

“Who... who else would it be?”

“Oh, okay. Why?” You’re both so confused, you not understanding the appeal while he’s not understanding why it’s so weird. Or confusing.

“Why not? I’m in the bed with my girlfriend, longtime crush, who I find extremely attractive? Is this too much? Is it wrong for me to, um, wanna do that? Or dream about it?” No shame!

“I’m still having problems seeing things from your perspective, but okay. Still cannot see the appealing side of me, so it’s just... it’s weird for me to actually realize you like that. You actually,” you gulp, “like me,”

“I’ll say it as many times as I need to, [Y/N]. You’re perfect in my eyes. I want you to see that in your eyes, too,”

“I cannot, if ever, do that. Sorry,” you just shrug, going back to lay down. It isn’t long until he’s straddling you. “What are you doing?”

“I want to make you see things how I do. You gave me this,” he gestured to the bulge in his sweatpants. Looking at it too long scares you, the size scaring you more. “I want you,”

“Oh my god, I’m being dead serious now: you are not gonna like what you see. I’m not attractive, Bo,”

“Let me be the judge of that, hm?” It’s the only thing he says, but you hesitantly nod. He smiles and as much as you want to enjoy it, you’re still shaking. You have no idea what’s coming next, you don’t know what he’s gonna do once he sees what’s underneath and it scares you. So badly. His hands go underneath your—his hoodie, running over your skin. “If you’re scared, I can stop. I don’t want to push you into anything,”

“It’s not that, I just can’t see what you see. But I want to. I want to see myself in your eyes, if you can do that,”

“All you gotta do is give me a signal if you want me to stop. I’ll try my best but you’re gonna have to relax, baby,” he has no idea what his words are doing to you. You just nod as he smiles, leaning down to kiss your forehead. He isn’t rough and excited, but rather gentle and soothing. Hands running under the hoodie eventually go up to the zipper, slowly pulling it down. It’s a small thing, but you notice his eyes flickering to your face for any sign of distress. Evening your breathing, you let him completely pull the zipper down as your skin is completely bare to him. You hide your face in shame, ready to apologize and have a million excuses lined up, but he doesn’t let that happen when he starts licking your chest.

“Oh!” Your hands thread through his hair, softer than you expected as it barely brushes against your skin. His eyes are still on you, your fingers moving his strands away so he could clearly see you and you, him. The way his predatory gaze latches onto your face has heat pooling between your legs, rubbing them together to create some kind of friction. Keeping his tongue connected to your skin, his eyes on yours, he moves onto one of your breasts. Popping your nipple into his mouth, he swirls the perked nipple in his mouth as his hand tweaks your other nipple. You’re panting, your head is thrown back as he continues. Soon enough, just rolling your nipples in between his fingers is not enough.

Gathering spit in his mouth, he lets it dribble onto your skin. It’s warm and slick, when he smears it across your other breast as goes back to tweaking your nipples. You look down at what he’s doing only to find him grinning devilishly at you. He then goes down to your stomach, biting into the flesh there. “Bokuto!”

“What? I just wanna taste you,” he shrugs, before licking the area he bit. He has a lot of spit, too, sucking into your flesh and leaving behind a bite mark and his saliva. It’s.. kind of gross, but hot. When he comes back up to your face, he pushes his lips against yours so forcefully that you’re reeling back, mouth opening as he slips his tongue in. It’s a deep, passionate kiss as he runs his hands over your body, squeezing anything he can as he slips his fingers into your pants. “May I?”

“Of course.” Once he has the okay, he moves back down, occasionally leaving love bites as he does. Pulling down your pants, he finds himself face to face with your damp panties. You don’t have time to get embarrassed, however, when he sticks his nose into your crotch and licks the fabric. “What is up with you and licking?” You giggle, finding humor in it. He just pops back up, shrugging. You giggle again, throwing your head back in the pillows. He goes to pull down your panties, sliding them down your legs until they’re completely off. Except for his hoodie, you’re completely naked.

Now if only you could have his cum in you, then would his wet dream be complete. However, there was one more thing he’s always wanted to try, but he’s worried you’ll be against it. “Babe?”

“Is something wrong?”

“No! No! Nothing’s wrong!” He hates how your mind immediately goes negative. Your shoulders relax and your wide eyes slowly lessen as you realize nothing wrong, yet. “Um, can you sit on my face?”

“Bokuto, I don’t-“

“C’mon, please? I’ve always wanted to try it! Especially between them delicious thick thighs of yours,” he then licked his lips with a resounding moan. Although embarrassed, you roll your eyes.

“If I’m too heavy, let me know. I’ll— I’ll get off,” you prop yourself up on your hands, feeling his spit ooze down your body. “You have a lot of spit. Reminds me of how much you sweat,”

“I produce a lot of liquids, y’know?” If it wasn’t for his wiggling eyebrows as he widely grins, you would not know he meant it to be sexual.

“Lay down!”

“Yes, ma’am,” he excitedly gets on his back, his bulge much more prominent than before now that it’s just there. You can see it. You’re still hesitant, but eventually move to straddle his face. He helps you, easily maneuvering your dripping cunt over his mouth. With his strong hands, he forces you down on top of him to the point where your legs can’t keep you up. You attempt to get up, afraid you’re crushing him but he keeps you firmly planted on his face.

A growl erupts from his throat when he gets tired of your squirming, you halting your movements as you try to calm down. His thumbs run over the skin of your thighs to try and soothe you. And it works. You’re feeling lightheaded as he sucks and licks your cunt and probably makes it messier than it is. He brushes his teeth over your clit, sending shivers down your spine as you moan from the feeling. With a grin, you can tell, he gets to work on tongue fucking you as well as sucking on your clit. It isn’t long until your fingernails are digging into his abdomen as you let out a high moan as you come undone on his face. He moans himself, using his thick tongue to gather up every ounce you produced. He also makes a loud slurping noise as he cleans it up.

You move off of him, panting as you look at him. He looks absolutely blissed out, like he saw Nirvana and Heaven all at once. You smile at him, his own smile wide and proud. He immediately gets up, pushing hips lips against yours once more as he licks the corners of your mouth. He is quickly moving to pull down his sweatpants and boxers, but hesitates. “You sure you want this?”

“You aren’t allowed to stop now,” you giggle as he glows, pulling down his pants. Your eyes go wide as you realize how big he actually is. The bulge in his pants was nothing. It is scary, you wondering if it’ll fit.

“Everything okay? Do you— Do you not want it?” He sounds so sad, you immediately coo at him, forgetting the third leg he has.

“No, no, no baby! It’s just— you’re very big. I did not expect that. Just be gentle, yeah?”

“Of course!” Another kiss to your lips, this one more of a peck than a passionate open mouthed kiss. “Can you get on your hands and knees?” You listen to him, rolling over on your stomach before getting in position. This way, you don’t have to worry about seeing him and can focus on what he’s doing, so it’s better in a way. Really, Bokuto just wants to end the night with you on your back and he plans on having you shaking from multiple orgasms before it’s over. He guides his cock to your entrance, a shaky breath leave him as his tip brushes against your folds. You shiver yourself, feeling yourself about to cry, but you wait.

Once he pushes into you, the tears come out for a different reason. “I’m sorry, it’ll feel better in a moment,” he licks your cheek, nuzzling you. You nod as you try to relax, him continuing to push into you. It isn’t until he nudged against your cervix does he stop. Even then, he is still not completely in you. He focuses on evening his breathing, inhaling your shampooed hair. It’s hard to not blow his load so quickly, you squeezing him so tightly. You’re nice and snug, though, your walls eventually relaxing as he stays inside.

“You can— you can move, Bo,”

“Fuck yeah,” he grunts, pulling out only to roughly thrust into you. You lurch forward from the thrust, immediately dropping your mouth open to moan as he sets a steady pace. It’s not fast or slow, but he’s definitely rough with his thrusts. It’s the grunts that really do you in, the way his hands grab at your ass and hips, sounds of pleasure coming from his as sinks his cock into your cunt that has you tightening around him. With a mewl, you have another orgasm and he curses, a low “shit” coming out as he struggles to pull out. He leans down to put his mouth next to your ear, biting the shell as he continues. He doesn’t even break a sweat as he does, stilling himself deep inside you as he lets out a low groan, your eyes scrunch together as you whimper. His cum fills you up to the brim, his hips swiveling to make sure he’s all done.

Well, for that round.

You’re panting heavily as he leaves you, leaning back as he watches your legs shake. His cum oozes out of you, your cunt clenching as it makes more pour out. It’s a beautiful reality, but he wants more. You’re soon flipped onto your back as he is over you again, his hands on the back of your knees, pushing them up. It’s not uncomfortable, but it’s not a very comfortable position, either. Confusion is etched in your face as he does, but his lidded eyes as he licks his lips tell you he’s not done. You’re exhausted, but he’s not.

He wastes no time in sinking himself back into you, his eyes focused on your face as you moan. His grin is almost evil, the way his lips stretch as he bottoms out inside you before roughly thrusting into you. It didn’t take long for another orgasm to start to buildup in you, your head thrown back as your back arches, your head turned to the side as he leans down to lick and bite your collarbone, sinking his teeth into the soft flesh. His hands find yours, intertwining his fingers with yours as he brings them up to your head. You focus on the way his arms flex, the muscles bulging with each thrusts as he puts every ounce of effort into the action. It really shows to how much he loves you and your body.

Even with all the marks on your body, even with all the places he’s touched and licked, that gnawing thought of you worrying nags him. The thought that you’ll still not know just how much he loves you. The thought that you’ll think it was a one time thing. He needs to know you know. He needs to know you’re seeing things in his perspective now. One hand leaves yours, it finding itself around your throat.

“Say my name,” he grunts, alternating his gaze between your face and his cock disappearing inside you. It’s something he’ll never get over. Maybe next time, he can record you two.

“B-Bo—“

“No, my given name. I want you to scream it,” his grip on your neck gets tighter, your walls tightening at the same time. He groans as he throws his head back, his thrusts slowing down as he drags his cock against your walls. “I want your neighbors to know who’s fucking you,”

“You, Kōtarō!” You loudly moan, humming in pleasure as he picks up the pace.

“Who’s making you feel this good? Who does your little cunt belong to?”

“God, you! It belongs to Kōtarō!” You scream, your eyes rolling back as his hands go back to under your knees, pushing them up to your chest. It’s hard to breathe, but you’re clamping down on his cock as a sheen of white forms around it, your slick dripping down your ass and down his balls. The last urge he needed to fuck you like an animal was that, you screaming his name. Your ands wrap around his neck, the material of his jacket rubbing against his thick neck as your nails take down his back. Hissing, he fucks you faster and harder, determination set to get you to one more orgasm. It doesn’t take long, your mouth hanging open as you come undone for one last time, him burying himself as far as he can as he spills another load into you. It’s heavy and fulfilling, but it’s wonderful. A wonderful feeling of being loved.

As you both come down from your highs, he gives you another sloppy kiss. Instead of pulling out, he released your legs and lays on his side, taking you with him.

“Shouldn’t we clean up?”

“That can wait. I don’t wanna leave quite yet,” he pants out, another sloppy kiss. Like he can’t get enough.

Really though, he can’t. He loves you too much

[schwaybatmoved]

Hi ok i also cannot stop thinking about The Batman and this is your permission to just dump all of ur thoughts about it cuz I wanna know :0c (also what's ur favorite song on the soundtrack ??)

HI JAY! thank you for asking i've not been normal since i watched it

spoilers for the batman (obviously)

oh my GOD. this movie was so spectacular. i think it was really incredible and better than the dark knight trilogy (i've heard like, weird dudebros say it's not as good so i want to say it) and i do think it's a movie that understands batman more than movies have ever before.

first of all, the movie didn't drag. three whole hours in the movie theater and i was on the edge of my seat the entire time! i didn't find myself bored or wanting to pull out my phone or anything the entire time. it keeps your interest and it doesn't let go, and amazingly it's able to do this without like, an action scene or a forced quip every other second (i'm vagueposting about the mcu right now). i think the main criticism i've seen in other reviews is that it was far too dark, or not funny enough, but i sincerely think it was fine. it was dark, yeah, but i did enjoy it and it added to the noir atmosphere. also idk why theyre saying it wasnt funny because i laughed at a few parts. the comedy was organic and not forced. it was fun!

bruce/batman himself was also such a good character. i liked that they strayed away from the ‘cocky billionaire’ bit and more into the ‘weird recluse guy’ bit. he is so obsessed with his city and the crime in his city and the fact that he pours himself into his work like this is very very compelling to me. instead of putting effort into keeping up appearances as bruce wayne, he really has himself convinced that he will not make a difference unless he lives out this fantasy of being gotham’s hero. nobody asked him to do this (and according to the prequel novel which i read for some reason, he really just made it up on the spot) and yet he realized that going out there and fighting will make a difference. WHICH BRINGS ME TO...

riddler! oh riddler. this boy. so something that this movie does expertly is explore the relationship between bruce wayne and gotham. rarely does a piece of media confront the idea that it is batman that created these monstrous villans, and yet this one does it so nicely. as batman rose, a confusing symbol of justice and vengeance, fucking weirdos also rise out of the woodworks and think they can do the same thing. one of my favorite aspects of the movie was riddler’s insistence that he and batman are one and the same, and that they were working together the entire time. it’s a reality that bruce can’t accept, the fact that riddler really just wanted to bring justice to the world that was cruel to him and becoming a masked symbol would be able to achieve this. 

the riddler is genuinely terrifying in my opinion. he’s scary in the same way that the joker from joker was scary. he was realistic; he’s some normal guy who wants to make a change and he will do anything for it, garnering a strong social media presence and effectively stirring up trouble. and when he’s unmasked... he’s a normal guy. he’s a forensic accountant. he lives a normal life by day, and is just a total freak by night. i thought that was really cool. in the past, these villains have been outwardly and openly weirdos, but riddler was literally some guy i’d see in a normal cafe or something (ordering a pumpkin pie).

i’ve seen people complain about his lack of flamboyance and sparkle. however, i believe that this new riddler works perfectly for the new age. he’s creepy, he’s realistic, and he’s a so interesting to watch. i love him.

changing the subject now, catwoman was excellent as well. the plot twist of her connection with falcone was insane. i loved watching her and bruce’s interactions the whole movie. i will say that i already adored catwoman and batman and their relationship, but seeing them in this fresher perspective was also just so, so good. zoe kravitz’s performance was jsut so so good, and i loved this new take on her character. she was new, and yet she still encompassed the same things that make catwoman catwoman :)

everyone’s performance was so amazing, and i havent even touched on jim gordon or the penguin. i can elaborate on them too, but i think this is getting a little long. thank you thank you thank you for asking!

(p. s., i love a lot of tracks on the soundtrack! crossing the feline is really great :3)

[lesdemonium]

romtober day 6: adopted by love interest’s family

Rating: T Ship: Geraskier Word Count: 1675 Summary: Jaskier wasn't quite expecting to have such a warm welcome at his first visit to Kaer Morhen, but he certainly isn't complaining. Especially not when he accidentally overhears conversations he wasn't meant to hear.

read on ao3

“I do not kiss and tell,” Jaskier insisted haughtily, though he winked at Eskel and Lambert as he did so.

Lambert snorted into his drink--something far stronger than Jaskier would find at any old tavern in the Continent. Jaskier had taken one sip, gagged, and made some crack about it curling his chesthair that had Eskel and Lambert howling as they offered him something more suitable. More suitable, apparently, meant probably the strongest wine Jaskier had ever taken. It was meant to be sipped, absolutely, but at least Jaskier could stomach this one. He had never considered himself to have a weak constitution, but Witchers just so loved proving him wrong.

“That’s a lie and we all know it, bard,” Lambert accused, a finger pointed at Jaskier as he narrowed his eyes. Jaskier smiled pleasantly back. “If you had actually managed to kiss that princess, you would be bragging about it until your dying breath. I bet she rejected you.”

Jaskier feigned affront. “Rejected? Me? I’m offended you would even suggest such a thing. But I will forgive you, simply because you do not know of what you speak; you have not seen me in action.”

Now was Eskel’s turn to snort. “We haven’t seen you in action,” he repeated, an eyebrow raised pointedly and a teasing lilt to his voice.

“Have you seen him in action, Geralt?” Lambert asked, with all the faux innocence a shithead like him could muster. “Is it truly a sight to behold? Knicker dropping, would you say?”

Jaskier’s face flushed and he resolutely did not turn his attention toward Geralt, lest Geralt read a bit too much on his face. Geralt, however, didn’t seem to notice the teasing, which was less surprising and more disappointing than Jaskier would have thought. Instead, he hummed and tapped the table as if he was actually considering his answer. Bastard.

“It’s a sight, I’ll say that much,” he answered, ever the diplomat.

“Inspirational, truly. I think your roles should be switched. Geralt should sing of Jaskier’s triumphs,” Eskel said, rolling his eyes.

Jaskier waved a hand. “Save us all that misfortune, Eskel. Geralt would have to say a nice thing or two about me on occasion. I don’t think his poor, delicate heart could take it.” Jaskier grinned at Geralt and nudged him with his shoulder, only to receive an eyeroll and a push back--Geralt likely thought it was just a nudge, but it sent Jaskier tumbling over on the long bench. “See? Brute.”

When Jaskier had first come to Kaer Morhen, he had expected a far cooler reception than the one he received. He had been traveling with Geralt for years, and though he knew Geralt was fond of Jaskier, in his own ways, Jaskier could never quite call him warm. It was a safe assumption that a winter in Kaer Morhen would be much the same, but from three new witchers. 

Vesemir did have a bit more of his progeny’s cool and collected demeanor, but he had clapped Jaskier on the back in a way Jaskier could almost call fatherly on multiple different occasions. When he had met Lambert and Eskel, Lambert had loudly started singing Toss A Coin at them and Eskel had pulled Jaskier in for the most thorough hug of his life. 

Since that welcome reception, they had been outrageously chatty compared to their brother in arms, and nearly every night was spent talking well into the evening. Jaskier had no monster stories to regale them with, but the others did not make him feel as if he was the odd man out. Instead, they looked forward to his stories of skirt chasing and court drama just as much as he looked forward to their tales of heroics against monstrous monsters.

Monstrous monsters. Maybe he’d had a bit too much of the wine.

“It seems my meager human constitution pales in comparison to what your sturdier frames can put away. I fear I must retire before I say something to embarrass myself,” Jaskier said, pushing himself back from the table and standing.

“That’s the longest way to say ‘I’m pissed, gonna go sleep it off,’ I’ve ever heard,” Lambert snorted. “Do you ever say things straight?”

“No,” Geralt answered. “He once ranted through an entire meal, but the only thing he managed to say was that I was a troll.”

“And you are, darling. And a miserable hag to boot.” Jaskier waved a hand dismissively. “A true wordsmith such as I knows how to weave even the most simple of statements into works of art. Try not to miss me and my eloquence too much, and pray that you do not drink yourselves into an early grave. Is it still an early grave if you’re well over a hundred?”

The witcher’s laughed and bid him goodnight, and Jaskier made his way out of the hall.

The problem with the witcher’s keep was that it was not the most intuitive place to navigate. Jaskier prided himself on his sense of direction, having been in many a castle before, and all castles started to look alike with their long, windy hallways and doors upon doors, many of which led to nowhere. The keep was much the same, and the combination of its inherent confusion, the darkness, and Jaskier’s slight inebriation had Jaskier lost. Quite quickly.

It took him about ten minutes and four different doors he was certain had contained stairs earlier that day to finally admit defeat and shuffle back to the dining hall. He didn’t mean to overhear, he really didn’t. Jaskier wasn’t even trying to be sneaky--why bother, when you’re in a keep full of men pumped with so many mutagens they could tell the color of a rabbit from the way it shuffled its feet? Only, apparently the ale had dampened their attention enough that Jaskier’s quiet steps had gone unheard, and he was able to approach the door to the dining hall without so much as a stutter in their conversation.

“--like him, Geralt,” Eskel said.

“Aye. If you manage to fuck things up in the next year and don’t bring him back, I’m not sure if we can let you pass through the gate,” Lamber agreed, though his voice was unusually pleasant. Like he was teasing Geralt.

“So glad to know my own brothers have turned on me so quickly,” Geralt scoffed.

“Well, we’d probably let you in, but only because if your froze your balls off we’d be hearing about it for the next century or so. Seriously, though. He’s nice to have around. You have certainly been less moody this winter,” Eskel said.

“Yeah, you were a right prick last year. And the year before that.” Lambert paused, as if he was considering something. “You have been a right prick this year, too, now that I think of it. Maybe the bard just distracts from your overall unpleasantness.”

There was a quick scuffle and a grunt from Lambert, followed by a long laugh from all of them, though Lambert’s took a moment to move from begrudging to warm. Sometimes, Jaskier wondered if they truly were brothers since infancy; they certainly acted like it. Though, he supposed experiences like they’d had bound people together far more securely than mere blood.

“I’ll ask him, but there’s no guarantees. He makes his own decisions. Goes where he wants. I have no claim to him,” Geralt said, and Jaskier was sure he was not drunk enough to be imagining the sadness etched in his voice.

“Well that’s bull--” Lambert started, only to be drowned out by Eskel.

“Geralt, are you kidding?” Eskel asked, incredulous. “That bard would go wherever you went, if only you’d ask. Even over a fucking cliff.”

“Seriously. He makes eyes at you so frequently, I don’t think he’s even aware he’s doing it at this point.”

Lambert laughed, as if it was a joke, but Jaskier’s face grew hot with embarrassment. Ah. So they had noticed. Jaskier was half afraid they would, and now he had mounting concern over the fact that they were telling Geralt. Jaskier was quite certain this winter was about to get a hell of a lot longer, lonelier, and colder. Either Geralt would realize Jaskier’s affections were just as his brothers said and be disgusted, or he would just let them stay there, as if nothing had happened. Jaskier wasn’t sure which option was worse.

“I’m going to bed,” Geralt said, his voice gruff, and Jaskier heard the scraping of his chair against the wood. 

Jaskier stumbled back a few steps, silently cursed himself, then tried to tiptoe away without attracting too much attention. This was not something he wanted to explain. Except, he still didn’t know how to get back to his own room. Fuck.

“If you’re smart, you’ll go to your bard’s bed!” Lambert called as the door opened. Fuck.

Jaskier scrambled behind a nearby door, trying to hide as quietly as he possibly could. It was a fool’s errand, he knew. After all, even drunk, Geralt would be able to notice him, surely. But he had gotten lucky once tonight when it was him against witchery senses; Jaskier could only hope he’d be lucky again. Otherwise he would have a fair bit of explaining to do.

Geralt walked by the door, and Jaskier only narrowly avoiding expelling a breath of relief. Until he heard Geralt stop, then push the door closed.

“Next time, you should make sure you close the door after you hide behind it,” Geralt said, a smile in his voice, then continued on his merry way, as if he hadn’t left Jaskier frozen to the spot in shame.

It took a long time for Jaskier to build up the courage to leave whatever room he had been hiding in. By the time he did so, Geralt was gone. Apparently, that was that. Apparently, Geralt was content to allow Jaskier to at least sort of live this down.

Maybe this winter wouldn’t turn out to be horrible after all.

[papabirdurskeks]

I ask this both for Baron Dark, Ariandel and SkekSo !

Give me a character and I will answer: @ben-the-hyena

Oh boy a triple feature! :D Here we go, folks!

Under a read more cause its going to get long but each listed character will be split apart evenly!

First up is Baron Dark!

Why I like them: He is just bombastic in personality! He lives loud in his actions and words, participating in most of the action himself while also showing he is a threat and menacing altogether! I also like that he is one of the few villains that shows he cares for his crew as a “family” (at least for most part of the series before being overtaken with obsession to have power more on his own). Given the dynamic we are given from the show, its obvious he cares and treats them all on a level of respect as well, something so rare to see nowadays! And I also enjoyed that his reasons to take over and do the shit he did in the series, “Because I can!” is just as refreshing and fun to see in a villain too!  And again, his design is a top tier design I love overall! Its menacing, powerful, and outright amazing! Definitely adds to the character and how well he works in effect to keeping my attention! Like just look at that design! And his VA did a wonderful job of adding to that charm that is just delightful to see in his personality! Overall, he is totally a villain I would love to see more of in the future!

Why I don’t: I say my dislikes often fall on the usual tropes of a kid’s show of the 90s. He talks too much when he could be doing things himself and falls victim to the typical “I am too powerful” but doesn’t think of the obvious steps ahead that will be his downfall. But honestly, its so small I don’t find it jarring or that bad to be in the way! It was the 90s and aimed at kids at the time, so we can’t expect TOO much out of that xD

Favorite episode (scene if movie): Oh man, that’s a tough one cause every scene/episode Baron is in he totally slays it! Its either a tie from the first episode to the very last one cause the stakes of start and finish are so well done, I love it all! 

Favorite season/movie: Obviously, the TV series is the best version of him! The comics sucked and turned him too OOC from what was initially given! Like how does one go from point A to be Z so freaking fast? xD

Favorite line: “Because I can.” Yeah, not gonna lie this was indeed my favorite line of his xD

Favorite outfit: Honestly, the outfit he gains near the end of the series is by far my favorite! Its like a mix of the Bejeweled Catacomb Saints and Mictlantechutli put in one and its befitting of the Baron given his gain in power! 

OTP: Baron and Cyborn are my OTP and are married, fight me. 

Brotp: Definitely Brotps with the rest of his henchmen though I see them more being like his adoptive children! 

Head Canon: Baron is of indigenous background! I also like to headcanon that the white tuft/strands in his hair are truly his and have been there since birth!  (I have so many more HCs for him but I will keep it short cause it can go all day x’) )

Unpopular opinion: Don’t think I have one, at the moment at least. 

A wish: To have gotten more information/lore on him and the entire cast, honestly! I would have loved to see more of his character explored and what more he could have had to offer as a series main villain! Hell, the whole damn series had so much to offer! And just the relationships he has with the others and what more he could have done post season and before! So much potential there to be explored! I honestly would not be objecting to a reboot/revival or continuation of the series! 

An oh-god-please-dont-ever-happen: Though with that said, if a reboot does come around, don’t turn it into the mess of current cartoons we have. Not that they are all bad but most of them have been very disappointing in keeping my attention and liking. Keep the same type of messages it had before! It worked beautifully as it did then and still does work now! I’d love to see the same formulas used while also updating it to be more gritty and mature like they did for Castlevania! Just... Don’t turn it into a cringe worthy mess that will ruin Baron and all the characters in the series! Don’t do what the comics did! 

5 words to best describe them: Charmingly evil, badass, fun, conniving bastard, and menacing. 

My nickname for them: Mega dork (affectionately speaking)

Next is Ariandel!

Why I like them: Oh boy, there is a lot to say in terms of why I like him but I will try to keep it short and simple for time purposes!  His design is top tier for me! Like a rotting skull like face? Check! A monstrous body much like a bird’s? Check! And to add he is a giant Corvian, which are one of my favorite enemies in Dark Souls III!  His personality also differs from the usual loud, bombastic, and proud characters I tend to gravitate for. Instead, he’s withdrawn and rather sad to look at and hear. You know he’s going through a lot but don’t know exactly what it is. In game, one can sort of get hints as to what has gone on behind the scenes but at the same time, its still vague and hard to really pinpoint what really did happen. So he has that air of mystery to him that I honestly adore in many characters as it leaves room to explore deeper into their lore! But I also find his personality relatable as well as sympathetic.  But that’s just me, I can gush about him all day but I will cut it short here x’)

Why I don’t: To be honest I don't have any reason not to like Ariandel other then the small fact that he followed Friede and let the Painted World rot in such a terrible state. But that is so minor of an issue to me to really make a difference, lol. I adore this giant bird man!

Favorite episode (scene if movie): I have to say the scene where he ultimately snaps and breaks out of binds after seeing Friede's lifeless body before him is my favorite scene of his. The amount of pain and anguish heard in his scream and the way he moves prior and after; I can very much relate to that feeling. Sometimes, actions truly convey the emotions better in the most powerful means necessary. And this scene alone truly nailed it.

Favorite season/movie: He's only ever seen in the Dark Souls III DLC, so obvious answer points to the DLC!

Favorite line: "When the Ashes are two, a flame alighteth. Thou'rt Ash, and fire befits thee, of course..."

Favorite outfit: Uhh, he doesn't really wear any clothes save for his cape? So I guess the cape does him well as he is, though I always draw him without it xD

OTP: To be honest, I don't ship him with any canon characters within Dark Souls. Friede does not deserve him..

Brotp: Ariandel being best friends with the Ashen One is my ultimate Brotp! Just think of how much of a valuable ally he could have been!

Head Canon: I know his origins are debatable, as either theory I have for him can be plausible but I often lean more towards the idea of him being half Giant and half Corvian! IDK why but I just like it a lot more x’)

Unpopular opinion: While Ariandel is partly responsible for what happened to the Painted World, I still feel he was manipulated overall and probably at one point did have a change of heart before being forced into complete isolation. He plays more the role of the willing/unwilling accomplice then the actual perpetrator of the crime.  

A wish: He could have had a happier ending without having to die for Friede. I know, its Dark Souls. Such a thing is expected to happen in the Soulsborne series but its a wish, right? 

An oh-god-please-dont-ever-happen: That anything beyond the infatuation he had for Friede took place. Just.. No. He loved her but never could ever have her in that sense and never did. Just no, she is horrible to him. 

5 words to best describe them: Sad, lonely, birdman, withdrawn, and tragic

My nickname for them: Papa bird

And lastly for skekSo!

Why I like them: I think its as obvious as the case for Baron Dark. I like evil, smug bastards that shine through their wickedness and don't usually hold back. In the case of skekSo, I actually didn't care for him at first but then after my second viewing of the show, I started to like him more and enjoy his villainy! He's selfish, arrogant, vain, and conniving and I love it! Added that his design is really appealing to the eye and how he carries himself out, I gotta say he's one of the few villain characters from a show that makes the turn around for me to like them instead of hate them more. Also, his voice. Can NOT go wrong with that voice cause DAMN, its good and shows just how powerful a villain can be with a voice like his. And those eyes. Oh man, those eyes!

Why I don’t: Despite his villainy being the main point that caught my attention, its also a part of his downfall too. His constant greed and arrogance pushed him too far into doing what he did and ultimately cost him everything in the end; including loyal allies that end up dying for him in the long run. I hate how easily and quickly he changes his mind when actual logic is put into perspective of his plans and how quick he is to dismiss someone else when they don't please him anymore or things don't go his way for the smallest things. And yes, that is part of his character, I know that. That is what makes him as scummy as he is and why I love how trashy he is. But I also can't ignore just how easily he pushed skekVar away and believed skekSil despite knowing just what a lying bastard he is. IDK, it just feels too obvious but at the same time, it is what it is and I am not upset about it in the least x)

Favorite episode (scene if movie): Honestly, I enjoyed all the scenes with him in the show but mostly in particular with his interactions with skekVar, especially towards the end of the series. It showed a peak part of his vulnerability in his character that honestly I doubt he ever shows to anyone else. He spends most of his time pushing others around and making them fear him but with skekVar there is a sort of mutual respect going that really speaks out in a different way. Maybe I am just reading too much into it, but I always did enjoy how they interacted with one another!

Favorite season/movie: Well, skekSo didn't get much screen time in the movie other then him dying and turning to dust so.... Definitely enjoyed him more in the show then the film xD

Favorite line: "NOOOOO!" (Yes, this scene is still very infamous to me for personal reasons but the way he carried out his "no's" cracked me up each time xD)

Favorite outfit: Honestly, the main outfit he wore throughout the show. It's just so regal and goth, I love it! And as a goth and fashion enthusiast myself, I am all up for the style he has! The battle armor he wore near the end made it a tad more laughable to be honest.

OTP: I started shipping him with skekVar but ended up with an OT3 of skekVar and skekZok. So now all three of them live in a happy relationship with each other in my noodle~

Brotp: I see him being on neutral terms with skekMal! 

Head Canon: I feel that even in the show it wasn’t seen or given, but he did feel a lot of remorse and regret after the loss of skekVar. He seemed very close with him and spoke with skekVar with more trust then he did the others. Perhaps in secret he did mourn the General’s loss. 

Unpopular opinion: Does this count as an unpopular opinion? I know most people see him with just a few strands of hair but I tend to see him with a head full of long flowing white locks he keeps hidden beneath his clothes. It adds to the extra layer of vanity for a proud Emperor such as he! He looses it over time the darkening consumes him and withers down his health. 

A wish: To see what he was like as an urSkek prior to being split up into a Skeksis and urRu. Yeah, I know people don't care or like the urSkeks all that much but honestly, I would LOVE to see more urSkek lore and see what it was that made SoSu so special among his peers. It was said, after all, he had a voice that could move the stars but was conflicted and consumed with darkness. Honestly, I want to know why and who he was prior to all of this mess! SkekSo even says in the show he still has nightmares of the life before so I wonder, what they were and how it was! So much potential here, man!

An oh-god-please-dont-ever-happen: I don’t think I have any of these to be honest? At least with skekSo. Not that I can think of on top of my head now. 

5 words to best describe them: Proud, absolute piece of shit, pretty, conniving, and menacing. 

My nickname for them: Stupid idiot

[princeescaluswords]

*walks up to a podium in a college lecture hall* "Kate Argent and Peter Hale were parallels of each other, which fandom refuses to acknowledge because to do so would mean admitting Peter actually was in the wrong and that his actions aren't worthy of defense. Chris obviously disapproved of Kate's actions, thus she wasn't some Left Hand therefore neither was Peter. Peter was literally a monstrous, murderous, red eyed beast wolf who killed his own niece and hurt and manipulated Derek so it was never about family, it was about Peter himself being hurt and his family as possessions or extensions of himself."

I sit in the audience of that hall taking notes, but at the top of the page, I write -- they know this already.  

I understand your frustration; I empathize with it whole heartedly.  Fandom is unanimous in its hatred of Kate Argent, who seduced a sixteen-year-old boy and then used that relationship to kill his family.

Kate is greeted with all the revulsion that she deserves.  Even though we don’t actually see the original violation on the screen, when Kate gets all creepily flirty and touchy with Derek in Formality (1x11) and Code Breaker (1x12), the fandom doesn’t rewrite that as something that Kate had to do in order to protect her family or to protect herself.  It’s criminal and immoral.  When Kate kisses the de-aged Derek in 117 (4x02), I don’t know of a single member of the fandom who said “wow, that’s hot.”  

There’s not a single person who tries to mount a defense that Kate was only protecting her family or doing what she had to in order to survive.  Universally, she is seen as using those as excuses.

The fandom is very good at condemning her sexually predatory behavior.  They’re even skilled at twisting things that aren’t sexual or predatory at all, such as Scott’s at-claw-point neck grab of Derek, into things that could be seen as hurting a sexual assault survivor.  

Unless, of course, the sexually predatory criminal is a hot white serial killer.

I’m going to piss off a whole bunch of people by saying what Peter Hale did to Lydia Martin is just as bad  (if not worse) as Kate seducing Derek.  Let’s compare them.

Both Kate and Peter shared an ulterior motive -- both of their sexual assaults were motivated by things that had nothing to do with the act itself

Both Kate and Peter possessed greater physical power

Both Kate and Peter created the illusion of consent

Both Kate and Peter employed corruption of romantic feelings

Both Kate and Peter targeted already traumatized individuals, though in Peter’s case, he targeted the trauma he caused

There is however, a fundamental difference in their sexual assaults (beyond the fact that the fandom pretends that what Peter did isn’t almost identical to what Kate did):   Peter got the pleasure of having his victim forced to interact with him in a way that justified his actions and denied her reaction:  

“I’m the spark that lit your fire, sweetheart.”

Pardon me while I throw up in my mouth a little bit.  But imagine the outrage in the fandom if Derek had been forced by events to go to Kate for help repeatedly.  To negotiate with her for help in understanding what was happening to him -- what she did to him.  To force him to stand there and hold Scott and Stiles back as she explained in a smirky voice why what she did all turned out good for everybody in the end.

They would have burned Viacom to the ground.

Imagine if in the final season, they would have written Scott having to recruit Kate to defeat her father, or they would have given Kate and Derek a nice comic dialogue in the McCall kitchen.

Yeah, fandom’s a trip, isn’t it?   This attitude will continue to prevail and influence institutions like studios to give men like Joss Whedon and Harvey Weinstein passes on their creepy, predatory behavior toward women.  After all, they don’t excuse his actions, they just love his art. We have all talked about Hollywood’s toleration of slimy white men.  Does anyone truly believe that the powerful don’t include the way the public accepts predatory behavior from white male characters -- as long as they are entertaining -- when they think about what to do about the predatory behavior of white artists?  Deniers can scream “fiction =/= reality” until they grow hoarse, but the fact is that there is a cultural predisposition to tolerate sexually predatory white men as long as they are sexy and funny.

Stay tuned for Joss Whedon’s redemption arc.

[evilzoldyck]

High School Sweethearts

It was hard to speak when you’re bent over the desk while your boyfriend forcefully held your head down, flipped your skirt over and tugged your underwear to the side to bring his hard dick right into your raw cunt. Nevertheless, he seemed unbothered by the lack of preparation as he started to thrust vehemently with a bitter passion, inattentive to your feelings and inconsiderate to your needs.

The sensation of Phinks’ vigorous intrusion left a burning and stinging ache on your end, this was by far the most painful sex you’ve had with him, if you even can call it that. The dim classroom you were in too offered no comfort whatsoever, the hard wooden desk beneath you and the pressure of him from above was beginning to give your chest an uncomfortable squeeze.

You think of shoving him off and escaping, but you knew that you were no match for his almost monstrous strength, had it not been for his appearance you would mistake him for another being for possessing such Herculean-like power. You also knew that he locked the door, and further beyond that stood his friends keeping a steady watch for his buddy that just wanted to have a little talk with his girl.

All because he heard rumours spreading around school that you were going to breakup with him.

“So fucking stupid,” Phinks venomously spat out. His brows furrowed furiously with his eyes pierced to your helpless form, his violent thrusts never faltered even through your stammering pleas. The sheer unbridled fury he exuded left you crippling in fear on whether you’re going to come out of this classroom in one piece. You’ve seen what he was like around others, you just didn’t anticipate that you’d be receiving the infamous temper from him so soon.

His rage that was once rigorously contained around you were now left unchained, you just pray that somebody would come through the door and rescue you before he does anything worse. 

Coarse hands slid through your strands and bunched your hair together near the roots to sharply pull them. You were honestly glad you didn’t have to face him through this ordeal, you couldn’t stand seeing his face shooting acrimonious glares into your own, but mostly it’s because you didn’t want him to see you crying. You couldn’t let him see how much he hurt you, how much power he had over you for he might take pleasure in your humiliated, broken state. 

Letting the tears run down your face silently, you gripped onto the edge of the desk so tightly that your knuckles turned white from the grip, biting down on your lip to prevent any sobs from slipping out. You felt Phinks’ gruff pants from behind you, his hands never relenting from squeezing down on your hips and pulling on your hair harshly. It was clear he was far from forgiving you or even listening to what you had to say; all he could focus on was exerting his emotions physically onto you. 

You should’ve seen this coming. The school’s infamous social pariah showing up randomly into your class and threatening others to leave just so he could ask you out in private. Of course you questioned it, just exactly what had you done to garner his attention? It wasn’t as if you were in or even knew his tight knit circle personally. You knew that he was a bad influence, the kind of company he keeps and the reputation he carries would just be detrimental to your respectable social image. 

But at that time, you couldn’t care less. His awkward and brusque confession was so endearing that it was enough to convince yourself to give him a chance. Who knew underneath that coarse exterior was something that was sweet and almost kind albeit a little unsure, however you figured he was trying. Wondering why it took him to come forward and reveal himself for you to see through his facade after all this time before.

However you knew that at this age you were not going to come close to actually know what real love is or even begin to understand it. Also, you weren’t expecting that Phinks would be the one you’d see at the end of the aisle waiting for you, but you at least wanted the high school romance experience. To have your very first boyfriend during the height of your exuberant and capricious youthful days. Something to look back at history and reminisce to.

The first week with him was great, the unwavering stares and the nebulous whispers were just what you were expecting when you accepted his confessions, though you weren’t quite used to the blinding spotlight as you stood at the centre topic of high school gossip. If Phinks ever felt the same way, he didn’t mention anything to address it. Rather he would see you after class and take you onto the rooftop where he effectively broke the lock on the door with an effortless tug just to have some time with alone with you.

To be within a close proximity with someone like Phinks emotionally and physically was a bit daunting. In the first few days you couldn’t bring yourself to look at him straight in the eyes or ask the questions you’ve been dying to know like: since when? How? Why? Nevertheless you  knew it was best not to ask since you figured Phinks himself wasn’t very good at articulating his emotions anyway. You figured the small pauses of comfortable silence and shy touches would be enough for now. 

You still remember that day where he stole you from gym class to bring you to a secluded corner in the back of the building. Your very first kiss was shared there and you couldn’t deny that the heart at least flickered. It was like a scene from an oversaturated romance clip ever, but the soft feeling of his lips against yours with his rough hands gently cupping your cheeks was something directors couldn’t sincerely translate to the audience.

When he pressured you to skip class one morning, you thought it would just be a one time thing. But the next thing you knew, you’d find yourself in aimlessly wondering the streets with Phinks by your side every day. Of course, the grades that you worked so hard to keep up before suffered because of your arbitrary absence, leading you to stay up late each night to catch up because you find it so hard to say no to him. 

The more time you spent with him, the more you began to notice that you hardly had the chance to see your friends. They also noticed it too and though they were mildly concerned as to why you would say yes to a guy you barely knew or talked to, they were happy for your new profound relationship. 

You couldn’t help but feel awkward every time you pass your small circle of friends by the hallway with Phinks close by your side. Your heart tightened as you all shoot a polite smile at each other, the familiarity that you all shared once before was diminishing slowly. 

Phinks was always invasive of your personal life, the moments of time you didn’t share with him, he’d intrude and let himself in anyway. You recounted at how he would scroll through your phone with a pensive glare, looking as if he’s expecting to catch something. You didn’t like it, but you also didn’t know that this wasn’t supposed to be a normal high school relationship.

You stared anxiously as Phinks’ eyes scrutinised your phone screen, scrolling through your apps, photos, messages and contacts. While there was nothing for you to hide, you couldn’t help but feel uncomfortable letting him go through your phone. Sitting patiently across him, you fidgeted with your nails hoping that he wouldn’t find something to get angry at. 

“Who’s this?” He glared at you, showing you a name on your contacts that you had forgotten. It was your science project partner from last year, you forgot you still had his number in your contacts. When you replied just as what you had thought, he returned his eyes back to the phone and pressed delete. Even though you didn’t need it, you wanted to refute, tell him he couldn’t just erase someone’s number from you like that.

And it was as if he read your mind, you suddenly perked up when he bluntly said, “the project’s over right?” While continuing his peruse on your social connections.

“Yeah,” you dryly replied, looking down at your shoes as if they’re the most fascinating thing in the world. You hated it when he got just a little bit mad, you’ve seen the extent of his anger and even if you were his, there was no telling what he’d do if you push him far enough off the edge. So you often found yourself doing mental gymnastics to justify his actions.

“Then you don’t need it anymore,” he stated, almost coming off as condescending. You weakly agreed with him. 

The time he suggested the both of you study at your house that day you told him how you were falling behind on maths, you didn’t think much of it. In fact, you were excited. Throughout the relationship he’d always set the schedule for the both of you and when he finally considered to set up a time that you needed, you were touched. Though that feeling quickly fleeted when he suddenly pinned you down on your bed. 

“P-Phinks,” you breathed out in between his kisses. Your body was superimposed by his while his hands that held your sides desperately roamed freely. The books that you brought were uselessly thrown to the carpeted floor and it was clear to you now that studying wasn’t his intention from the start. 

You held on to his shoulder and pushed him so that there was some distance between you two. “I thought we were just going to study,” you asked earnestly, looking for some sympathy in his eyes. 

He smirked smugly and leaned in to kiss you once again, “yeah?” He chuckled in amusement. “That’s cute.” You should’ve known he couldn’t give what he didn’t have. He practically ripped your uniform blouse to get to your skin, not minding the buttons that scattered everywhere. His mind was set in stone for pleasure while yours was a conundrum. 

Do you want to give it to him right now? Are you ready to lose your virginity? Does this mean he was The One? Do you want to save it for someone else? Who? Is high school the time to explore these things? Were you moving too fast?

You couldn’t remember what happened during the intercourse, but you remembered him finally leaving when your parents came home. 

The next day your friends lead you to a quiet corner of the school to finally talk, they strategically caught you on a rare time where Phinks was preoccupied with reigning chaos over some unfortunate student with his friends. Knowing that you preferred to stay out of it, Phinks reluctantly left you alone for the day. 

They confronted you about him, how he’s got you on such a tight leash and how they missed you, wondering when you’ll be back with them just like the old times. When it was time for you to answer, you couldn’t properly structure a sentence. Instead, the next thing you knew there was tears in your eyes. You murmured out that he took advantage of you, you couldn’t help but sob out uncontrollably and fell down to the abrasive gravel. 

Hearing yourself admit it out loud helped you processed the thoughts and feelings of the altercation of what happened yesterday. Your friends were immediately by your side, holding you tightly as you cried out in distress. They shot each other a bewildered look at the implication of your statement. You held on to the supportive grip of their hands, letting yourself sob into their shoulders as they hugged you tightly and soothed your back while occasionally brushing your hair back from your wet face, not telling you to stop or say anything else.

The familiar warmth you’ve been craving for all this time, they gave it to you without question. You poured out your heart that period, wept until your tears went dry and sobbed until your lungs gave out. They never left your side. You figured once you told them you’d feel humiliated and embarrassed but they never even made an accusation of the sort, in fact they prevented you from thinking such things about yourself.

When they suggested the police get involved, you quickly opposed, you didn’t want to make such a noise about it. Perhaps you still regarded some feelings for him, even though you shouldn’t and he could never deserve it, but regardless you didn’t want anyone else to know. Though it was clear that they weren’t satisfied, they settled on you breaking up with him for now. 

You didn’t know who stumbled and saw you that day with your friends, but someone did. News travelled around the campus like a grapevine and soon everyone is whispering of you breaking up with the infamous Phinks Magcub soon. 

When the gossip finally reached him, he threw the maths report that he waited on for some kid to finally finish it in anger, leaving the papers to fall onto the muddy ground behind him as he marched straight to the building. He was going to surprise you with the report you’ve been so worried about and to hear of your betrayal enraged him to the point that he couldn’t hear or see anyone but you.

Meanwhile you stood in an empty classroom, worried when your friends didn’t come to your class on the last bell of the day in which they promised to meet, the whispers were getting louder and you weren’t sure how you could face him alone. You looked out the window and sighed, it was going to rain again. If that wasn’t an a bad omen the moment you turned to the door where Phinks suddenly emerged from was. 

You were so naive to think you can escape him without a scratch.

Phinks could hear the sobs you tried to stifle as you pleaded out when you finally couldn’t handle it anymore. “S-Stop- Phinks please...” you whispered out, squeezing out the tears stinging your eyes. Your throat felt like it was coiled with wires of barbs tightening every time you held yourself back from emitting a sound.

He let out a series of violent thrusts before he finally came, pulling your hair down harshly as you cried in pain. Once he let go of your hair and tucked himself back in, he turned you around to look at your grief stricken face. “Are you sorry?” He asked, completely apathetic to your side. You weakly nodded, casting your eyes from his. 

“Good girl,” he brusquely wiped your cheek with his thumb before pulling you close to him, forcing you to lay your head in his shoulder. You feel his lips tickle your ear when he muttered softly, “let’s not fight anymore.” 

It wasn’t like you had a say in it anyway.