#especially when everyone else is experiencing the effects

[guckies]

I don’t really care about combat logging over random things but combat logging over the event effects…

[holdmytesseract]

dad-to-be!Daryl absolutely pampering reader. She's just started experiencing Braxton Hicks contractions and she's scared about the real deal happening soon, so Daryl takes it upon himself to help her relieve some stress. Bathing her, making her food—or, well, trying to—painting her nails with some nail polish he got from Maggie or someone, etc. just sweet Daryl all around.

Love you if you write this, love you if you don't! Don't feel pressured at all, love 💜

In This Together

Daryl Dixon x fem!Reader

Summary: Starting to experience Braxton Hicks, your archer is more than adamant to be by your side.

Warnings: usual TWD stuff? fluff, pregnancy stuff, mentions of a injury and a fight, bit angst, protective!Daryl

Set in the beginning of Season 9!

Word Count: 3,3k

a/n: Here we are. Dad-to-be!Daryl! 🥰

Thank you SO much for sending me this, @dixons-sunshine ! I LOVED writing it! 🧡 I hope you don't mind that I, uh, drifted 'off-topic' a bit. The writing department in my brain just has its own mind... 🫣

EoH Masterlist °☆• Daryl Masterlist °☆• Masterlist

"So... This is nothing I have to be afraid of?" You asked hesitatingly; voice still thick with concern. Siddiq gave you a bright smile, which was a clear attempt to nip your worries in the bud. "No, Y/N, absolutely not. It's perfectly normal and important to experience Braxton Hicks. And besides it's an indication that my estimations are correct. You're about twenty-eight weeks along now, I'd say - in time frame for that to happen." You nodded; finding Siddiq's reassuring words truly helpful. "O-Okay... But there's nothing I can do about it, right?" "No, sorry. You just have to go through them." You gave the doctor another nod, "Alright..." and moved to sit up on the makeshift examination table; Siddiq immediately offering you a hand to help you up - which you gladly took. "Thanks." The man smiled at you once more and stood to his feet as well; placing a hand on your shoulder.

"Just remember, it's important for your body. It's practice." "Yeah," you answered; rubbing the back of your neck. "Won't change that Daryl's gonna be worried sick... Dunno if he knows what Braxton Hicks are." Siddiq chuckled; knowing exactly what you meant. He got to know the archer way better the past months, and knew what he was 'capable' of...

"Explain it to him like I did to you. He'll understand." "Mhm, yeah, gotta try." You offered the man opposite you a last smile, patting your thigh to gain the attention of your furry, four-legged friend and headed for the door; "Thanks, Siddiq!" Dog following close behind. "Sure thing, Y/N." The doctor watched you leave, before he returned to his work.

You made your way slowly back to the basement apartment you and the archer shared. It took you about two times longer now to head from the infirmary back home; due to the pregnancy and its side effects. Your feet were swollen and hurting, just like your back now and then. It could be quite frustrating from time to time, especially when your husband wasn't around to give you endless foot rubs and massages - just like at the moment. Daryl was stationed and working at the bridge since almost two weeks now... You missed him - a lot. The daily conversations over the walkie-talkie weren't just enough anymore.

Knowing he'd be away for at least a month, he left Dog with you; trusting the faithful canine to keep you safe. He did and seemed to understand exactly what his dad asked him to do. Dog was like glued to your side; never leaving. You thought it was adorable and utterly precious.

Closing the door of the basement behind yourself and Dog, you grabbed the walkie-talkie and plopped down on the sofa with a sigh. Since the sun had started to sink, you hoped that Daryl could spare some time for you now to talk. Sure, he always did, but you hated to keep him from important things. After all, he was an important figure in this whole construction Rick and everyone else had built over the years. Daryl wasn't 'just' a right-hand-man anymore... He was a leader - and you weren't just talking about the Sanctuary.

"Daryl?" You pressed the button of the radio and called out his name, before letting go of said button again; waiting for an answer. After a few moments of silence, you tried again. "Dar? You here?"

It took the archer another few moments to answer. "Yeah, 'm here," his slightly static voice suddenly sounded from the small device in your hands; giving you a little scare. "Sorry, sunshine. Been wantin' ta get away from that bridge first 'n into my tent." He paused for a short moment.

"Everything a'right with ya two?"

You smiled; already loving to hear his voice. Dog's ears perked up as well, before he quickly joined you on the sofa and snuggled against your left leg; head resting on your thigh. Your free hand immediately went to give the canine some well-deserved head scratches.

"Hey, baby. Yeah, we're good; just missing you..." An adorable grunt could be heard from the other end. "Don get me started on how much 'm missin' my girls."

Your heart clenched at his words; bottom lip wobbling dangerously. What you would give to curl up in his arms now...

Somewhat between a sob and a laugh was escaping your lips. "Baby, you gotta stop that, or you're gonna make me cry, what in return in going to make our munchkin even more sad." "Even more sad? Whaddaya mean?" Daryl asked; his attention falling on his unborn child in concern. You smiled sadly and started to absentmindedly caress your baby bump; letting go of Dog, who was dozing peacefully.

"She's very unsettled and... antsy. I can feel it. She kicks more than usually a-and well... I think it's because she misses her daddy. She's used to hear your voice, you know, and now it's not there. Over the radio isn't the real thing..."

All you could hear for quite a few moments from 'the other end of the line' was silence. You frowned and just opened your mouth to say something, when you heard his voice again. "'M comin' home," Daryl stated. Your eyes widened. That wasn't your intention... You knew that he had to stay. Rick needed him there, but his words were also so tempting... And the fact that he was willing to drop everything just to drive back to Alexandria in order to calm his unborn daughter caused your ovaries to explode.

But you knew better, unfortunately.

"No, Daryl. You gotta stay. Rick needs you." He scoffed. "But our munchkin needs me more..." Well, damn. That was actually the truth. Valid point. "I know, baby, but I got it, okay? It's only two more weeks..." "Yeah, 's two weeks too much," he grumbled in return. "I know, but look... After that is done you won't have to leave us again until the birth. Rick promised, remember?" Daryl sighed; remembering his brother's words.

You were sure you had convinced him with that; already celebrating your victory over his stubbornness internally, when your body decided to throw a wrench in the works... Hitting you with a Braxton Hicks contraction.

Of course, you didn't see it coming - how could you? And therefore left a loud hiss your lips, followed by a small, yet painful cry, before you were even able to stop it.

You knew right away that you were screwed now. That wasn't how you planned to tell him... Fuck.

"Y/N?!" His panicked voice instantly urged to your ears. And Daryl wasn't the only one worrying... Dog had woken from his sleep by your cry; ears perked. He was wincing and repeatedly nudging you with his wet snout.

"Y/N!" "I-I'm here, Daryl," you radioed back as soon as the mild contraction subsided. Taking a deep breath, your free hand returned to the canine curled up against your side; petting his fur. "I'm okay, Dog, I'm okay..." You reassured Daryl's animal companion.

"Wha' wrong?! Are ya in pain?! Please talk ta me, woman!" You swallowed; redirecting your attention back to your worried husband. "I'm good, don't worry. It's just... I, uh, started having Braxton Hicks..." "Braxton wha'?" "Braxton Hicks... Those are, um, mild contractions. It's something that occurs between the twentieth and thirty-fifth week of pregnancy. My body is, uh, practising for the birth," you explained; biting your lip, before quickly adding: "Siddiq says it's a good thing a-and perfectly normal."

There was silence on the other end for a long moment, before the click-clacking sound of the little device in your hand announced Daryl's voice again. "'M comin' home," he stated once more; now drop-dead serious. "Packin' my stuff right now."

Damnit...

"Baby..." "Nah. Ya ain't talkin' me outta this, Y/N. Yer in pain, havin' fuckin' contractions! 'M comin' home." You sighed; knowing that starting yet another 'discussion' would be most likely fruitless. You couldn't stop him. Not again. "Imma talk ta Rick first thing in the mornin' 'n leave as soon as I can." "I won't win another argument, will I?" "Nah, ya ain't."

You sighed again, but ultimately gave in. "Alright... I'll see you tomorrow then... Be safe and drive carefully, yes?" "Of course, sunshine. Don worry 'bout me. You stay safe, ya hear me?" "Promise." "Good. I love ya. Both 'a ya." "We love you, too."

With yet another sigh, you put the walkie-talkie aside; placing it on the small coffee table in front of you. You didn't want Daryl to cut this 'mission' short just because of a few cramps, but on the other hand, you couldn't deny that you looked forward now to see him again. Two weeks felt like ages.

You smiled; cupping your baby bump once more. "You heard that, munchkin? Daddy's coming home tomorrow."

Daryl had a hard time sleeping that night - naturally. He was way too worried, and therefore just decided to spend the rest of the night on watch; waiting for the sun to rise.

Once the other people in the camp had started their day as well and the place was literally bustling with members of all the various communities, the archer sought out his brother...

"Rick." Said man was currently talking to Cindy and Beatrice from Oceanside as Daryl approached. The former policeman's eyes travelled shortly to Daryl, before he ended his conversation with the two women and shifted his attention. Cindy and Beatrice passed Daryl by; giving the archer a nod, which he answered with a curt jut of his head.

"Mornin'," Rick greeted his brother; hands on his hips. "You good?" The leader was indirectly referring to the last remains of a fight his friend had with Justin - a Savior, few days prior. Daryl had clearly won that argument, but a very prominent cut above his upper lip was the price he had to pay.

The archer put Rick off; "'M fine." quickly dismissing the topic. "But we gotta talk." Rick nodded and gestured at the huge tent only a few yards away, in which everything else got usually discussed as well. Wordlessly, Daryl followed him; stepping through the flaps of the dark green tent.

"I gotta go back home." He didn't beat around the bush. Why should he? "Y/N's experiencin' those... fake contractions, 'n the baby's very restless; givin' 'er a hard time as well. She needs me," Daryl explained; biting the inside of his bottom lip. "I know ya need me 'ere too, 'n 'm sorry, but-" "Y/N and the baby are your priority, I know," Rick interrupted the archer and gave him a smile. "As it should be, Daryl. They're your family. Go home. We got this." He nodded; head lowered. "Thanks, man." Rick smiled once more and gave his brother a pat on the shoulder. "Be safe, yeah?" "Ya too."

Not even ten minutes later was Daryl kneeling beside his bike to strap his crossbow on the vehicle; ready to leave. The camp was bustling with people, and yet found him a specific pair of eyes...

"You're leaving?" Carol asked as she came to stand beside him; arms crossed over her chest. "Without saying goodbye? Shame on you." Daryl looked up, almost apologetically. "Yeah, 'm leavin'. Y/N needs me," he explained; getting to his feet. "But I was gonna say goodbye. I ain't jus' leavin' ya." A frown carved itself immediately in the woman's forehead. "Is everything alright? Y/N and the baby are fine, right?" The archer nodded. "Yeah, jus' some fake contractions 's all, but I wanna help 'er through this. 'Sides the lil' munchkin 's missin' me," he explained; shrugging his shoulders and moving to mount his bike.

Carol gave him a cheeky, yet happy smile. "I think you're the happiest I have ever seen you, you know that? It's good, pookie." "Pf," Daryl scoffed and grunted; couldn't stop his cheeks from reddening. "Stop." His best friend smiled even brighter. "No, 'cause it is a good thing. You deserve this. To be happy. You do." The smile he gave Carol then was nothing but sincere. He wasn't a man of much words, but the woman knew, of course.

Daryl started the engine and exchanged a last look with his best friend, before he drove off.

Since you knew that Daryl was returning sometime this morning, you decided to take on Michonne's watch. It took you all the convincing skills you had, but in the end gave your friend in. Some fresh air was always a good thing, right? And all you wanted was to see your husband approaching safely the gates.

You didn't know exactly how much time had passed, but you were pretty sure it had been a few hours, until you heard that familiar sound of an approaching motorcycle. Standing up from the comfortable camping chair Michonne had gotten up on the wooden tower only for you, you watched with a smile how Daryl drove up to the gates - which got immediately opened for him. The archer had seen you, of course. A short eye contact was enough to display the feelings exploding within the both of you. Especially happiness and love.

Well, it had been two long weeks...

Your husband drove past the gates; immediately turning off the engine and dismounting his beloved vehicle, while you moved to slowly climb down the wooden ladder - step after step. You were carrying precious cargo, after all. About halfway down, you suddenly felt two big palms settling firmly on your hips. "Careful, sunshine," the archer's deep, smokey voice urged to your ears. You smiled; his touch and voice sending a pleasant shiver down your spine. Planting both feet firmly on the ground again, you immediately turned to hug the man as tight as your baby bump allowed.

"Daryl...," you breathed; inhaling his scent and fighting the tears - kudos to your hormones. "Hey, sweetheart." He held you just as firm, before he pulled back to gaze concerningly in your eyes. "Wha' were ya doin' up there?" He nodded at the watch tower. "Waiting for you, of course." Daryl grunted in clear dislike. "Ya shouldn't be up there. 'S dangerous. 'Specially alone."

You appreciated and treasured his protectiveness, but in that very moment was the watch tower the last thing you thought about.

Rolling your eyes with a smile, you cupped your husband's cheek. "Shut up and kiss me." Daryl still wasn't entirely comfortable of displaying affection in public, even after all those years - what you didn't mind, of course, but in that very moment, he didn't give a fuck. The longing and the ache in his heart after having to be away from you for so long was taking over.

He grunted in fake annoyance, before he dipped his head to meet your lips halfway in a deep, longing kiss. "I missed you so much, Dar," you whispered against his lips and bestowed another sweet, short kiss upon them. "Missed ya, too, sunshine." You smiled; his cheeks still cupped by your hands, as your eyes roamed his handsome face. But your happy expression got quickly replaced by a frown as you noticed the small injury above his lips.

"Where did you get that cut, baby?" Daryl shook his head; hands squeezing your hips in a reassuring manner. "'S nothing, sweetheart. Jus' got in a fight a few days ago 's all." Your eyes darkened. "One of the Saviors?" He nodded. "Justin. He was bein' an asshole. Couldn't let tha' slip." You sighed; nodding. "Does it hurt?" Concern flamed up within you once again. "Nah. Not anymore."

You wanted to answer him, but another cramp shot through your lower abdomen; causing you to grimace. Daryl's grip tightened again on an instant. "Contraction?" "Y-Yeah..." You confirmed; luckily feeling the period cramp like pain subsiding again. "C'mon, sunshine. Let's getcha back home. 'M here fer ya two now. Ain't gonna leave again."

You weren't the only one being happy about Daryl's return. Dog was happy too; almost taking the bulky man off his feet with the force he threw himself on him; paws connecting with Daryl's broad chest. You only watched with a smile; hands supporting your baby bump.

Speaking of... The tiny girl living in your womb was ecstatic to hear her father's voice again. You could feel it. Once you had cuddled up with Daryl on the sofa, to catch up on the lost time of physical contact and conversations, you felt her move; recognising Daryl's voice and seemingly that the hands around her home weren't yours as well... Daryl was about to tell you about working at the bridge, when a tiny foot connected with the palm of his hand. "Was tha'...?" You giggled; nodding. "A foot, yep. She got super active within the last hour. She knows her daddy is back. Told you she missed you." A breathless laugh left your husband's mouth; his thumbs starting to caress the clothed skin of your stomach. "Hey in there, lil' munchkin. I missed ya too, ya know."

He received another strong kick in return.

"She's got bigger 'n stronger. I can tell." "Yeah? You think so?" You asked; turning your head to gaze at the archer over your shoulder. "Yeah. Can feel it. 'S different." You just smiled at him; loving how observing he was and cuddled further into his arms; enjoying every second of your reunion.

"Daryl?" You asked after a few minutes of pleasant silence. "Yeah?" You swallowed; picking at your nails. "Those Braxton Hicks I had the past days... They kinda, uh, gave me the creeps a little bit. I-I mean... I know now that the birth isn't very far away and that the real contractions will be way worse. That's... scaring." The archer nodded; biting the inside of his lower lip. "'M sorry 'bout that, sunshine.... Wish I could take tha' fear away, but... 'm afraid too. 'M scared of losin' ya or her, or hence even both 'a ya. But we gotta make this somehow, right? We're in this together. You 'n me. I ain't ever leavin' yer side."

To hear that Daryl had his fears as well was weirdly reassuring for you; knowing that you were truly not alone in this - in every aspect.

You laid your hands on top of Daryl's, which were still resting on your baby bump. "W-We gotta make it, yeah. You and me. Together." You felt Daryl nuzzling your neck; his goatee scratching your skin and his chapped lips aiming for a kiss. "Like we always do."

The following days and weeks were spent by the archer to help you through the Braxton Hicks contractions whenever you got hit by one, and through the pregnancy in general, of course. He was even more attentive and protective than in the beginning and was doing everything in his power to take away the stress and make you feel as comfortable as possible - which included pampering you. Endless foot rubs and back massages, running countless baths for you, getting you your latest craving - even in the middle of the night, and of course cooking food for you. The cooking wasn't always successful, but you loved the man for all the effort he put in. Daryl took you on walks around Alexandria regularly as well; making sure you'd get some fresh air. Certainly not outside the walls, but he'd accompany you everywhere you wished inside the walls.

Daryl even agreed on painting your nails, which ended in a mild disaster, but it definitely didn't fail to put a big smile on your face.

And when the tiny miracle inside you finally decided to see the light of the day and Daryl's hand was tightly locked with yours as you went through labour, you knew that everything would be alright, because you got Daryl and Daryl got you.

Tags: @angelwings-crossbowstrings @belitoxx @lou12346789 @fictive-sl0th @marvelcasey05 @loz-3 @mischief-dream @whore4romance @stitchintimefan @bigbaldheadname @making-the-most-0f-it @erebus-et-eigengrau @km-ffluv @0-aubrie0 @sweetz1919 @mikaela-granger @secretsicanthideanymore @dilfdixon @txtttttttttttttt @stiveroon @cakesandtom @mayday2007

[drdemonprince]

I don't think I have it in me to be an abolitionist because I read that horrible story about the trans teen murdered in South Carolina and my knee jerk reaction is, those people should rot in jail, ideally forever, or worse. No matter how I look at it I can't make myself okay with the idea that you should be allowed to steal someone's life in such a horrible way and then just go back to enjoying your life. Some stuff is just too over the top evil.

You can have whatever emotions you want about that person's murderous actions, but the reality is that the carceral justice system is one of the largest sources of physical, emotional, and sexual torment for transgender people on this planet.

Transgender people are ten times more likely to be assaulted by a fellow inmate and five times more likely to be assaulted by a corrections officer, according to a National Center for Transgender Equality Report.

Within the prison system, transgender people are frequently denied gender-affirming medical care, and housed in populations that do not match their identity, which increases their odds of being beaten and sexually assaulted.

The alternative to being incorrectly housed with the wrong gendered population is that transgender people are also frequently held in solitary confinement instead, often for far longer periods on average than their non-transgender peers, contributing to them experiencing suicide ideation, self harm, acute physiological distress, a shrunk hippocampus, muscculoskeletal pain, chronic condition flare-ups, heart disease, reduced muscle tone, and numerous other proven effects of solitary confinement.

The prison system is also one of the largest sites of completely unmitigated COVID spread, among other illnesses, with over 640,000 cases being directly linked to prison exposure, according to the COVID prison project.

We know that number is rampantly under-estimated because prisoners, especially trans ones, are frequently denied medical care. And even basic, essential physical care. Just last year a 27-year-old Black man named Lason Butler was found dead in his cell, having perished of dehydration. He had been kept in a cell without running water for two weeks, where he rapidly lost 40 pounds before perishing. His body was covered in rat bites.

This kind of treatment is unacceptable for anyone, no matter who they are and what they have done, and I shouldn't have to explicitly connect the dots for you, but I will. One in six transgender people has been to prison, according to Lambda Legal. One in every TWO Black transgender people has been to prison. One in five Black men go to prison in America.

THIS is the fate you are consigning all these people to when you say that prisons must exist because there are really really bad people out in the world. We should all know by not that this is not how the carceral justice system works. Hate crime laws are under-utilized, according to Pro Publica, and result in few convictions. The people who commit transphobic acts of violence tend to be given softer sentences than the prisoners who resemble their victims.

We must always remember that the violent tools of the prison system will be used not against the people that we personally consider to be the most "deserving" of punishment, but rather against whomever the state considers to be its enemy or to be a disposable person.

You are not in control of the prison system and you cannot ensure it will be benevolent. You are not the police, the judge, the jury, or the corrections officers. By and large, the people who are in these roles are racist, transphobic, ableist, and victim-blaming, and they will use the power and violence of the system to terrorize people in poverty, Black people, trans people, "mad" people, intellectually disabled people, women, and everyone else that you might wish to protect from harm with a system of "punishment." Nevermind that incaraceration doesn't prevent future harm anyway.

You can't argue for incarceration as the tool of your revenge fantasies, you have to argue for it as the tool that it actually is. The purpose of a system is what it does. And the prison system's purpose has never been to protect or avenge vulnerable trans people. It has always been to beat them, sexually assault them, forcibly detransition them, render them unemployable, disconnect them from all community, neglect them, and unperson them.

[httpswritings]

hips, your lips, they're mine

alexia putellas x reader; 1378 words; smut

Still bare from the night before, a mischievous glint sparked in your eyes as you stretched languidly. The sheets cascaded down, revealing your form to Alexia, who froze mid-shirt-dress.

"Amor..." she began, a hesitant plea laced with a hint of possessiveness.

"What?" you teased, feigning innocence. "You're running late, but a girl can enjoy herself, right?"

Your fingers trailed up your body in a deliberate caress, sending shivers down your spine. You lingered at your breasts, gently pinching your nipples, eliciting a soft moan that escaped your lips. You locked eyes with Alexia; your gaze playful yet provocative.

"Amor, I truly have to go," she insisted, her voice strained.

"Then go," you countered, a smirk dancing on your lips. "I'm not stopping you."

"But you are," she countered, a hint of defiance in her jawline. "You know exactly what you're doing."

"Just some harmless self-love in bed," you shrugged, feigning nonchalance. "Where else would I do it? Maybe next door?"

A flicker of annoyance crossed Alexia's face at the mention of Marc. He had made a pass at you when you first moved in, oblivious to your relationship. Youknew this was a sore spot.

"He shouldn't have to hear this," she mumbled, the possessiveness undeniable.

"Maybe the whole building has heard me moaning your name," you purred, leaning closer. "Wouldn't that show everyone how good you make me feel?"

Alexia perched on the edge of the bed, torn between her need to leave and the possessiveness your words ignited.

"Do they?" she whispered, a sliver of vulnerability in her eyes. "The thought of them hearing something so intimate..."

"Isn't that the point, amor?" you murmured, brushing against her leg. "To show everyone you're mine? Especially Marc, perhaps he should understand the effect you have on me."

The reminder of Marc sparked a playful fire in Alexia's eyes. Her gaze traveled down your body, lingering on your taut nipples. A slow smile spread across her face, and she licked her lips suggestively.

"Alright, you win," she conceded, a playful glint replacing the possessiveness. She climbed onto your lap, sending a jolt of desire through you.

"Can I make some noise, or should I be considerate of the neighbors?" you teased, your voice husky.

"Make all the noise you want, mi amor," she replied, a possessive edge creeping into her voice. "Let that idiot know his place."

“Ale, maybe he's not even home.”

Lost in the pleasure of Alexia's touch, a moan escaped your lips. Her kisses were unlike anything you'd ever experienced—a blend of tenderness and passion that sent shivers down your spine. You reached up, brushing a stray hair from her face, and met her gaze. The jealousy had vanished, replaced by a deep affection that made your heart skip a beat.

You leaned in, capturing her lips in a kiss that spoke volumes about your love for her.

Though a part of you enjoyed the possessiveness earlier, you knew what Alexia truly needed was reassurance and intimacy.

You could feel she was insecure; that's why she had been insisting on letting everyone know she was the one who had you.

You showered her face with kisses, trailing down her neck and shoulders, leaving a trail of wet kisses and gentle nips. You knew these sent shivers down her spine—a secret language between the two of you. A soft giggle escaped her lips, and the sound was pure music to your ears.

"You're beautiful," you murmured, tracing a finger down her cheek. A playful blush rose on her face as she playfully rolled her eyes.

"Let me be in charge of today, okay?" you whispered, a newfound confidence in your voice.

A smile bloomed on her face. "Absolutely."

Your roles reversed, and as you explored her body, you reveled in the beautiful sounds she made. It wasn't just about you letting everyone know she was yours, but about showcasing the depth of your connection and the way you made each other feel.

“I want everyone to know how good I make you feel, sí?. Let's show them that no one else is allowed in this room.”

Alexia's eyes met yours, a silent confirmation that she understood. A mischievous grin spread across her face. This wasn't going to be a quiet affair.

You placed your core on top of Alexia's.

The rhythm of your bodies became a silent conversation, a language only the two of you understood. You watched, mesmerized, as Alexia arched her back, a delicious moan escaping her lips.

You adored watching Alexia below your body.

It made you feel powerful.

You began to move your hips slowly as your breasts moved in sync with them.

“I love watching you on top, amor. I think it's one of my favorite positions.”

Alexia's hands were enjoying their time touching your breasts, but she moved them to your hips, gripping them hard. 

You knew how quickly Alexia orgasmed when you were in that posture, and right now your main priority was her pleasure.

It could be the way your core rubbed against hers, but also the way you would bounce on top of her, your breasts moving uncontrollably and your hands holding onto her shoulders, making her body shake rapidly.

Sex in that position was wild.

The mattress would shake violently, and your bodies would slam each other's without any mercy.

Alexia's moans were incredibly loud.

Suddenly a loud thump echoed from the wall. Marc, your neighbor, was clearly not a fan of the enthusiastic soundtrack to your lovemaking.

Alexia's eyes fluttered open, a hint of frustration replacing the passion. She glanced at you, a silent question hanging in the air.

"I'll deal with him later," you whispered, cupping her face. "Right now, you're all that matters."

You would be very embarrassed when Marc arrived at your door to complain, but right now, your focus was on your girlfriend.

You couldn't stop. Not when you saw her so lost in pleasure, so happy, so needy for a release.

“Bebita, I'm gonna—” Alexia warned you.

You knew what she meant, and it only motivated you more to keep going until you made her squirt.

Alexia was completely lost in pleasure.

She scratched your skin, spanked your butt, held onto your neck. She did everything she could to have you as close as possible, because she would need all your attention to recover from what was about to happen.

Alexia's moans kept coming out of her mouth, and when she screamed your name, you knew she was reaching the peak of her pleasure.

You moved your hips impossibly closer to hers, making circular movements, and then it happened.

Liquid splashed out of her core as she screamed your name non-stop.

Her body was shaking violently, and you showered her with compliments and I love you's.

She gave you a thumbs up to let you know everything was fine, but you still were very cautious with her body.

You kissed her everywhere.

As she caught her breath, Alexia blushed.

"The neighbors," she mumbled, a sheepish smile playing on her lips. “They are going to complain.Well, one of them just did.”

You chuckled, finding her flustered state endearing. "It was worth it. Look at you, radiant."

"I love you," she whispered, her voice thick with emotion.

Alexia's soft side was one of the most beautiful things you had ever witnessed. 

“I love you too, Alexia.”

As you both looked into each other's eyes, a loud buzzing from the doorbell shattered the peaceful silence.

“Joder, amor. What do we do now?”

Alexia began to freak out, it was adorable how soft she would always be after sex, when under normal circumstances, she would be the first one to argue with Marc.

“Fuck him, Ale.”

“Ew, no.”

“Amor!” you whined as you kissed her.

You were about to go for a second round, but the doorbell kept ringing.

Alexia's soft side was disappearing as her possessive side came into the picture.

You noticed how her gaze changed, and you decided to quit.

“Let me talk to him and maybe we can go out for a walk, like you were going to do?” you suggested.

“Fine. But I want to take a shower first. Be quick. I'll wait for you there.” 

[pocketsizedquasar-3]

i mean, we knew this. but the fact that i’ve seen dozens and dozens of post focusing on queer ppl and telling queer ppl to take care of themselves and queer ppl that it’ll be ok and queer ppl to not kill themselves (which, not saying not to make those posts or that those posts are bad), and not a single, single post* checking in on or showing compassion to Black people, undocumented people and other immigrants, brown people, Muslims, Jews, or other religious minorities — basically, any and all POC in general** — is truly, truly emblematic of what we have known all along: white people fundamentally do not see oppression if it is not happening to them.

*the one or two exceptions were posts i saw before the elections, reminding Black&brown folks to stay safe (bc regardless of outcome, racist hate crimes spike around elections!), and the OPs of those were, predictably, themselves Black or brown.

**QTPOC of course exist. we exist especially at the most dangerous intersections of this violence & horrid effects to our health, mental and physical. but it is frequently clear when ppl make posts like this and consider none of the harm which we are subject to, only that which also affects them.

it does not occur to you to show compassion to us. it does not occur to you to show solidarity with us. it does not occur to you that we are in danger, and have been in far more danger than you, regardless of which color they slap on the white house. it does not occur to you that when you talk about violence against queer people, the vast majority of that violence will fall upon queer and trans POC, especially Black queer people. it does not occur to you that QTPOC exist at all, except when we can be used as a hypothetical argument.

white queer people are white before they are queer. white trans people are white before they are trans. white women are white before they are women. they are disappointed in the status quo only when it stops supporting them. they are aghast and appalled when they are treated like those people. they are shocked and disappointed when suddenly their whiteness no longer insulates them from being treated the way the rest of us are treated. baldwin of course said it first and best:

I think white gay people feel cheated because they were born, in principle, into a society in which they were supposed to be safe. The anomaly of their sexuality puts them in danger, unexpectedly. Their reaction seems to me in direct proportion to the sense of feeling cheated of the advantages which accrue to white people in a white society. There's an element, it has always seemed to me, of bewilderment and complaint.

white queer people, white people in the imperial core, are experiencing a fraction of the dread and violence that everyone else has been subjected to for years. you are afraid, rightfully so. but in your fear and your rage and whatever else, you do not look to those of us who have been fighting this violence for years. you do not offer us compassion and care the way you do with white ppl. you, of course, fall back on your whiteness.

again, none of this is new. we know this. we’ve known this. but it is frustrating nonetheless.

it does not occur to you that we are in danger. that we are dying. that we are being killed. it does not occur to you to to offer us the same hotlines and resources and reassurances and kindness and compassion.

keeping rbs on for now but if people start being weird i’m turning them off. don’t put words in my mouth. don’t say i said something i didn’t. i meant what i said and nothing else.

[air--so--sweet]

So, Aidan Gallagher was the last cast member to wrap on season 4, and he wrapped several days after everyone else which I've been presuming means we're getting some apocalypse flashbacks but I've just had another idea.

We see Lila and Five travelling to what looks like the original apocalypse, what if they see young Five in the apocalypse? I think it could be really interesting as I don't think any of the other characters fully appreciate what he went through (well, Luther appreciates what it feels like to live in total solitude). Especially when he came back looking exactly like he did when he ran away, but with an adult consciousness instead of a teenage one. It makes it very easy to forget he got stranded and had to learn how to survive in an apocalyptic wasteland as a literal child. While grieving everyone and everything he has ever known.

And I think for Lila to be the character to witness that, as someone who has quite an antagonistic, but also incredibly loving relationship with Five (I was going to say though neither would admit it, but actually I feel both of them had dropped almost all pretense of hating each other at the end of season 3. I don't know if either would verbally express love for each other but in the same way I don't know if either would verbally express love for anyone) would be incredibly affecting. Especially as, unlike his siblings, she never knew teenage Five, she has always known him as an adult who looks like a teenager. I feel like for Lila to witness firsthand the brutality Five experienced alone in the apocalypse, and to realise he was really just a child, especially now that she has a child herself...well I think it would be truly upsetting for her but also giver he a deeper understanding of Five and just how important his family is to him (and family is what Lila desires and values most in the world too).

But also, it will make her realise how similar Five's experience was to her own. Because both were caused to suffer at a young age by the Handler, Lila by having her parents murdered, Five by being left in the apocalypse for 45 years when she could have plucked him out at any point, and then exploited for her own gains with little to no care given to how it sould affect them. Five says The Handler made it so he couldn't belong anywhere, that she made him a killer; she more or less did the same thing to Lila.

Most theories I write are just 'Oh this would be cool if it happened' or 'Look at this ridiculous idea I had', but, now I've imagined it, I'll be really disappointed if we don't see Lila and Five witness younger Five in the apocalypse. Damn...

Also, while writing this it occurred to me that, if the scene where Lila is crying is in the subway, which is looks like it is, maybe she isn't crying because something happened her daughter or Diego (as most of us presumed), maybe it's related to her seeing something The Handler did in another timeline. Or maybe it's just the emotional impact of seeing The Handler in the flesh again, knowing Lila loved her and saw her as her mother, and The Handler was happy to murder Lila in cold blood when she realised she couldn't manipulate her anymore. That's bound to fuck you up. (To be be clear, because I think how I phrased this suggests we'll definitely see The Handler again, I have no idea if we will or won't but with the hopping of timelines it's a possibility.)

Or maybe Lila sees what The Handler took from her, what life would have been like if she grew up with her parents. Or again, the effect of just getting to see her parents alive and in the flesh. A train always stops in the same places, it can't just change course or route like any other vehicle. Maybe the subway allows you to move between timelines/time travel but only as an observer. You can't change or effect any events and therefore can't interact with anyone as a result. Imagine the pain of seeing your parents you thought you'd never see alive again and not bring able to interact with them in any way. Or maybe she has to witness their murder again knowing she can't do anything to stop it. It would be a really interesting parallel from their relationship in season 2 to have Five comforting Lila over the death of her parents.

[starry-bi-sky]

thinking about Dan in CFAU and just how different he needs to be (in my opinion) in order for Danny's whole thing to work. Canon Danny with Dan's influence, would never even consider thinking of killing anyone even after losing people close to him because he'd be scared of becoming like him. CFAU Danny however has been festering in this hurt and anger for years and wants the Joker dead and is plotting it. I don't think he'd do that with Dan's influence.

I explained how Rath came to be in this post here. Things happened in TUE as normal -- Danny's family dies, he lives with Vlad, Vlad rips out his ghost half. The difference here is that not only was Danny in a grieving state (something exclusive to banshees that the post goes into) but he also doesn't end up fusing with Vlad.

What happens instead is that Danny's ghost half, consumed already with grief and now enraged by being murdered and lied to by Vlad, destroys him completely and disappears into the ghost zone. He traps himself unintentionally in a negative feedback loop of grief, and as a human spirit banshee, cannot mentally handle the constant agony and sorrow he's experiencing. What happens is that he ends up driving himself insane with misery.

So the difference here, ultimately, between Dan and Rath, is that at the end of the day; Dan is fully aware of his actions. He knows what he's doing is wrong, and delights in it. He acknowledges his lack of humanity and feels no remorse in doing what he does.

Rath? He's... not. Not really. Dan is a hulking mass of muscle; tall, towering, terrifying. He loves what he does and does what he loves. Rath, however, appears as a scrawny young boy in raggedy clothes far too big for him, hunched in on himself while dirty, unkempt hair curtains his face and hides whatever he doesn't have ducked down in his curled-in form.

Rath is locked in a constant, unending state of sorrow and misery. He, for lack of better words, is unable to perceive the world around him properly and lashes out terribly and violently at anyone or anything that catches his attention. The only thing that he knows is that his family is gone, his other half is gone, that everyone he loves is gone, gone, gone.

He is a zombie apocalypse wrapped up in the form of a malnourished child, wandering the world in search of people who are not there, and becomes furious if you're not them. He is constantly crying, but he's been crying for so long that he's all but lost his voice. Meaning anyone trying to keep an ear out for him has to listen for soft, pained gasps and quiet whimpering, and wonder if the sound they're hearing are hurt survivors, or the very thing they're running from.

As a result, Rath's influence on Danny isn't that he's scared of doing something bad and becoming like him. He's scared of losing control of himself and dooming himself and others to eternal misery. As a result, he's adamant that things that he's done were not done out of pure emotion, but were active choices he made.

Up to and including killing the Joker. There's enough grief and rage behind his views on him that anyone could argue, especially knowing that Danny's a ghost, that he was not in the right mind when he did it. He was blinded by his emotions and was not in the right mental capacity, he had no control over himself. It'd work as a convincing argument.

If it weren't for Danny himself arguing against it. Killing the Joker was a choice he made, fully and willingly. It was autonomous, premeditated murder and he won't accept anything else -- it was not a fit of passion, it was not act of insanity, it was a decision. He won't accept it being anything else but revenge either, and if anyone tries to claim that it was a necessary evil he will yell at them. He didn't do this for the betterment of the public, that was just a fortunate side effect. He did it for himself and Jason. If you wanted it to be a necessary evil, then you should've killed him yourself. It was a selfish evil and he knows it.

In the end, Dan’s existence would prevent Joker’s death. Rath’s existence only solidifies it.

Rath's complete difference from Dan is one of my favorite parts about this au even if he never makes a direct appearance.

[floorbe]

"Desired" [Astarion x Human!Fem!Tav!Reader]

**COMMISSION PIECE** for @jesseapples , thank you sm sm for the comm!! <3

Warnings: p in v s/x, light blood play, biting, first time, hints of Astarion's past / turmoil but not much, hurt/comfort, reader is a virg/n Summary: You'd agreed to meet Astarion after everyone else had retired for the night, but you're starting to have doubts about whether you should.

or; you're a v irgin and worried about not being good enough. Pairings: Astarion / human, fem, tav reader A/N: tbh i wrote for human tav but there aren't many indicators of them when i re-read it?? so go wild! Fandom: Baldur's Gate 3, act one Tiefling party Word count: ~2.4k

~

To say you’re nervous is an understatement. 

The Tiefling’s celebration is still well underway, babbles and laughter ringing across the camp in a much welcome departure from the usual tense silence (other than the occasional grinding of Lae’zel sharpening her blades. Again). You spy Rolan casting lights into the air, preening under the praise of the group gathered around him.

You watch Cal and Lia lean in to say something to him, and judging by the affronted gasp he gives, you assume they were poking fun at him once more. You stifle a laugh into your goblet, amused at their already familiar antics. 

Though not even they could force your mind away from your current worry. Your eyes drag across the camp, attempting an air of nonchalance.The moment your eyes meet a familiar ruby red gaze you know you’ve failed at your little ploy. Astarion’s mouth is hidden behind his goblet, though you could tell by the quirk of his eyebrow that he was sending you a cocky smirk. 

You swallow hard around the bitter wine, swearing that the heat traveling down your throat was swirling up into your cheeks instead. You avert your gaze, your heart giving a small kick of… something. Anxiety? Excitement? You couldn’t tell the difference as a spark flicked in your belly, and the wine’s disorienting effect certainly wasn’t helping.

“And once everyone else is asleep… we get to know each other.”

His words echo in your mind for the umpteenth time tonight. The ridges of the goblet dig into your palm as you grip it, chewing on the inside of your lip. You had accepted, more than accepted, honestly– but thinking about it now.... 

You’d never laid with anyone before, and now you were going to lay with Astarion? You knew admittedly little of his past, and he yours, but he seemed… experienced. Much more experienced than you, if his confidence was anything to go by. Would he even enjoy it with you? Would you fumble? Disappoint him? This was beginning to sound more and more like a bad idea. 

It seems your turmoil wasn’t as well hidden as you’d anticipated, for when you glance in his direction again, he’s still staring at you. His eyebrows have moved into a furrow, his goblet lowered as his head tilts. You lock eyes with him once again, though this time neither of you make a move to look away.

You feel studied under his intense gaze, inspected, as if he was trying to unravel you from where he stood. You attempt a small smile, but if the way his frown deepens is any indicator, it must come out more as a grimace. In a moment he’s striding towards you, face twisted into something of what you think is concern. 

Before he can reach you, a hand grips your wrist and whirls you around. It’s one of the tieflings, Lia, giving you a wide grin as she drags you back to her group. “Saw you sulking over there,” she teases, nudging you as you enter the jovial conversation, “It’s a celebration! I’m not about to let you skulk in the corner!” 

When you cast a glance back to find Astarion, he’s already gone.

In. Hold. Out. In. Hold. Out. 

Your hands are still shaking as you make your way into the forest where you agreed to meet Astarion, the darkness surrounding you offering little comfort. Especially since you knew he could see perfectly fine in it– another bubble of anxiety pops up at the realization that he would see much more of you than you of him. 

“There you are,” his voice startles you as he saunters out from the bundle of trees, a quirked smile on his lips as he stalks closer, “I’ve been waiting. Waiting since the moment I met you.”

He’s in front of you now, piercing gaze freezing you in place as he advances, eyes raking down your form. You repress the urge to curl in on yourself.

“Waiting to…” his smile falters when he focuses on your face again. His eyebrows furrow deeply, searching your face. “...Darling,” he starts after a moment, resting a hand on his hip as he frowns, “I must say, out of all the lovers I’ve taken, you seem rather… unenthused by the opportunity.” 

You flounder for a response, heat swarming into your cheeks again. Your mind is blanking– everything you considered saying while pondering earlier is gone in a blink as he watches you. You can feel your throat tightening, hands gripping the fabric of your sleepwear as you try to find something, anything to say. 

Out of the corner of your eye you swear Astarion’s expression twitches into something softer, almost concerned in your behavior. He seems just as at a loss for words as you.

After a moment he takes a step back, tone considerably quieter, though his face has returned back to the neutral smile he wears, “Performance anxiety, darling? Fear not, we can save our night of passion for another–” he moves to grab his shirt. 

“N-no, no,” you finally sputter out, hands raising in a panic, “I… I’ve never done this before, is all.” 

There’s a pause as you watch Astarion process your words. You can practically hear the gears in his head turning as he looks at you almost incredulously. He lets out a sudden guffaw, head thrown back in amusement, “Oh, nice try, darling. A vision like yourself, untouched? Surely you don’t take me for a fool…” 

His words trail off into silence as he takes in how you seem to shrink even further into yourself. You hear him intake a needless breath before speaking, “...Gods, you aren’t joking, are you?” 

“...No,” you mumble, crossing your arms over your body protectively, “I’m serious.” 

“Oh, don’t tell me you’re one of those ‘I’m waiting until marriage’ people,” he scoffs lightly, though you notice his posture relax a bit at the information.

“No, it just… hasn’t been on my mind, I guess,” you shrug lamely. 

“Sex hasn’t been on your mind?” he asks incredulously, hands on his hips, “Well, you’re certainly not the first that’s said that to me, but I will say that you’ve surprised me, darling.” 

“Why? Do I seem like someone who… partakes often?” 

“...By the Hells. You do realize that every single one of our companions has been trying to seduce you, don’t you?” 

“...Huh?”

“Dear gods,” he groans, running a hand down his face, “We’ll get to that later. Now– shall we head back to camp? If we won’t be laying together, I would like to sleep on a bedroll.”

“Uh, I mean,” you laugh nervously, “Um… If… I mean…” Gods, how do you even say it?

“...Oh,” he sounds after a moment, eyes round with realization, “You– want me to be…?” 

“If you want,” you answer lamely, repressing a groan at how utterly awkward you sound. He’s silent for a moment, prompting you to look back up at him despite the flush on your cheeks. 

He’s wearing a contemplative expression, one you don’t see very often. You can almost hear the swirling thoughts running rampant in his mind, though he stays silent. You think he wants to say something, some thought that’s popped into his mind, but instead he dons his sultry smirk once again. 

“Darling…” he purrs, padding closer to you, “I’d be delighted.” His fingertips are cold against your arm as he traces up your skin, eliciting a trail of goosebumps in their wake. “I’ll be gentle, don’t worry,” he teases, the pads of his fingers stopping momentarily on your neck, tracing over the familiar pinpricks he’s gifted you almost every night.

“I’ll make sure it’s unforgettable,” his smirk breaks into a grin, fangs revealing themselves as he finally cups your cheeks. You fail to repress a shiver at the cold touch, eyes fluttering shut as his breath ghosts over your lips, “You’ll be begging for more when I’ve finished with you…” 

His lips are meeting yours within a moment, the cool feeling mixing wonderfully with your heated skin. His lips move against yours languidly, one hand slipping down your form to rest on your hip, testing. Your hands find purchase on his collar, one sliding up to tangle gently in his hair as you mold your lips against his, embarrassment forgotten. 

You feel his fang clip against your lower lip, drawing a quiet gasp from you at the prick. His tongue licks into your mouth through your parted lips, exploring and tangling with yours. You can’t help the whine that you release into his mouth as his hand slowly lowers from your hip to your lower back, tugging you flush to his form.

You barely notice that his hand that was once cupping your face has joined the other– though you let out a choked gasp as it quickly finds your ass, giving it a playful squeeze. Your head is spinning, overwhelmed with the new sensations in the best way possible, a haze covering your thoughts as he lowers you both onto the ground. 

His lips trail down to your jawline as your back hits the soft grass beneath you, and you instinctively offer your neck to him. You can feel the grin that spreads across his face at the action, and he wastes no time in sinking his fangs into their familiar spot. 

A moan slips from your lips at the brief pain, followed quickly by a soothing swipe of his tongue before he’s suckling at the points. You can feel his body pressed against yours– how his hands trail all over your form as he skillfully disrobes you, exploring each new inch of your skin with a delicate touch. 

It’s dizzying feeling his cold palms grope at your breasts, thumb rolling your nipple over as he sucks on your neck. It leaves you lightheaded, hips bucking instinctively at the feeling. “Needy girl,” he coos against your neck, “We’ll need to stretch you first, darling. Patience.” 

Despite his seemingly collected words, his free hand travels all too eagerly down to your cunt as he resumes sucking at your neck, a moan vibrating against your skin as his fingers slip over your slit. His finger gathers your slick easily before moving up to swirl over your clit, finally releasing your neck as you let out a wanton noise. He pulls back to gaze down at you, cheeks flushed and eyes hooded, all for him.

“Gods, you’re beautiful,” he whispers, running a finger teasingly through your folds, “So wet for me, aren’t you?” Any response you would’ve mustered is banished from your mind as he slips a finger into your heat, curling perfectly to hit the spot that makes you see stars. 

“Oh, there you go, darling,” he murmurs huskily. 

“‘Stari,” you whine, back arching as he hits that spot again, eliciting a delicious squeeze around his finger, “Please…” You barely notice your hands slipping down to tug at his bottoms, chewing on your lower lip to muffle the whimpers leaving your lips at every skilled curl of his finger. 

“So impatient,” he tuts, though he retracts one hand to join yours in slipping off his trousers. You let out a moan at the sight of his cock, precum already dribbling out of his tip– you can’t help how you tighten around his finger again, hips bucking eagerly at the thought of him finally filling you. 

He lets out a deep groan at the feeling, his cock twitching eagerly. “You’re a vision,” he breathes, slipping his finger out of your cunt. You barely have time to whine at the sudden emptiness when you feel his tip prodding at your hole, teasingly bucking to slide along your slit. 

“Ready for me, darling?” he asks, and though he has his trademark smirk you can hear an edge of care in his tone accompanied by a soft squeeze of your hip to reassure you. 

“Yes,” you breathe, looping your arms around his neck readily, “Just… slowly, please?”

“But of course,” he purrs, steadying his cock to prod his tip into your cunt, “Tell me if it hurts, darling. I told you I’d be gentle and I intend to keep my word.”

It stung at first, feeling his length slowly, painstakingly gradually, sink into your wet heat– it was a delicious sting, one you’re sure you’ll be thinking about in the nights to come. Your eyes flutter shut, hands clasping behind his nape as he shushes you soothingly, hands spread across your thighs to keep you spread for him. 

“That’s it, look at you,” he breathes, eyes locked on where his cock inches further and further into you, “Oh, darling, taking me so well, so good…” 

You moan brokenly as you feel his thighs press against the backs of yours, his balls resting against the cleft of your ass as you both adjust to the feeling. You watch his head bow with a silent moan, heavy breaths filling the air before he finds your eyes again. 

He moves slowly, gently, true to his word as he carefully watches your expression. Your mouth falls open in a gasped moan as his cock drags along your walls, stretching you deliciously. You can already feel the knot in your abdomen tightening, only worsened when his thumb swirls around your clit.

“Sh-shit, Astarion–” you pant, back arching. Your thighs tremble with pleasure, weakening as your pleasure climbs and climbs and climbs…

“Close already?” he purrs, doubling his efforts on your clit, “So sweet for me. Come, darling, give in, let me feel you…”

The knot snaps, pleasure washing over you as he works you through your high, cock sinking into you with a groan as his fingers stutter over your clit. He looks beautiful like this, you think amidst the pleasurable haze, eyes shut and mouth fallen open. It’s something you could get used to.

You whine brokenly, thighs trembling as wave after wave of pleasure courses through you, nearing too much but never quite crossing the line. It feels like minutes before you’re coming down from it, almost light headed as your body relaxes against the forest floor. 

“Fuck, Astarion, that…” you pant heavily, still very aware of how his cock is still hard inside you– twitching, throbbing… 

“I hope you’re not spent yet, darling,” he groans breathlessly as you tighten around him, red eyes locking with yours with a downright lewd grin, “After all, I did promise to make this unforgettable.”

[wakkass]

It's impossible to put into words how much I love designing characters, especially for AU.

Yes, I recently had an avatar AU, and I really wanted to draw Katara from there (and also Zuko). I usually draw a static pose in order to display all the details of the clothes. This is such a kind of character sheet that helps me to better imagine the scenes in my head.

If you're interested in reading about the AU itself, then there will be some information about it.

I apologize in advance for mistakes in the text, English is not my native language. But, I hope, this will not interfere with understanding.

In general, my AU concerns the ending of the series, because at some point it seemed unrealistic to me. There is too much positivity with the obvious problems of the post-military space, as well as little logic in some moments (for example, I don't understand what Zuko was doing in Ba Sing Se. Did he abandon his newfound throne to the mercy of fate with the risk of a palace coup? Did he not feel the effects of a lightning strike? The longer I think about it, the surreal it seems to me).

At some point I thought, "this is all like Aang's dream, in which everything is intentionally good. As if this is the ending he wants, but it's unattainable." And then it dawned on me. But it really looks like his fantasy about the future after defeating the root of evil. This explains why Zuko recovered so easily, why everyone is just relaxing and having fun without a drop of post-trauma. Because Aang wants everything to be so naive and simple after defeating the Fire Lord. Because he's dreaming about it.

I know this is a very hackneyed narrative technique. It's pretty easy to say "this is someone's dream" to deny any events. But I found it curious, especially against the background of the episode "Nightmares and Daydreams", where Aang's dreams already simplified the reality around him. For me, it's like a lead-up to the finale, where he actually sleeps.

You ask, "but why is he sleeping?". I also asked this question, and the answer to it killed me. Because during the battle with Ozai, when the stone hit Aang in the wound, he fell into a coma. His body was paralyzed because his brain perceived it as a repeated lightning strike, again fatal. The avatar's state was the only one that did not allow Aang to die, but only to fall into a coma. And instead of an epic battle, we have a little helpless boy spending a huge amount of energy just to maintain his life.

The second Aang collapsed, he disappeared, leaving Ozai alone with the remnants of his temporary power. And no one else saw the avatar…

I'll leave the intrigue for you about this, but for now I'll tell you about the concepts from the art.

Naturally, everyone searched for Aang, and, naturally, they did not find him. Katara and Zuko were the only ones who did not participate in the search, for several reasons:

Zuko was rehabilitated for a very long time after being struck by lightning, and Katara nursed him (I'm sure there are a lot of fics about this topic. The only difference is that there is no romance here. The focus of my AU is not on it, but on the problems of the consequences of the war). He survived, but he had major problems with his heart, digestive system and spine. Who noticed the cane in his hands? Yes, Zuko couldn't walk without it. From now on and forever. He was physically unable to leave the palace, and Katara maintained at least some of his condition.

Even after Zuko's rehabilitation, it was necessary to keep the power in his hands. Imagine what a shock the Fire Nation experienced when not just the former Fire Lord was overthrown, but the country's policy changed dramatically. Now Zuko needed to keep power in his hands and establish a new regime as soon as possible, before his opponents raised armies and people against him. This boy, who recently sat quietly at a military meeting, needed to show unprecedented strength and power to everyone: both officials sought to turn the situation in their favor, and the people who wanted stability and prosperity. But how to do this if Zuko couldn't even breathe normally, and getting out of bed required tremendous effort? It was impossible… Anyone else would have given up, but not Zuko. He has never given up without a fight and has never turned his back on danger, even if he risks dying.

It hurts me a lot for him, too. Fate has never stopped pushing Zuko against obstacles, but this time he couldn't rely on himself. He almost couldn't bend, his body almost didn't obey. He was an easy target and there was nothing he could do about it. This helplessness irritated him, saddened him, oppressed him. The only thing that wasn't broken yet was his spirit, and Zuko was barely able to maintain it in such conditions. If it wasn't for Katara, I don't know if he would have coped in the end. She was now his only support, his only ally in these cold oppressive walls, the only rational grain in his doubts.

You ask, "Where is Iroh? Where is Mai?"

Iroh, along with the White Lotus, took on a mission to liberate the Earth Kingdom from the Fire Army and establish relations with the kingdom. In fact, Iroh now shared power with Zuko: uncle was engaged in foreign policy so that his nephew could focus on domestic policy.

With Mai, everything was much simpler: after getting out of prison, she was completely disappointed in the guy who always left her. She sent him a letter, where she finally ended their relationship, and left with her family somewhere far away. Perhaps she and Zuko will cross paths again and will be able to establish a relationship. But not now.

Katara remained to help Zuko not only with treatment, but also with his policy. As a resident of an almost disappearing tribe, as well as an able leader, she helped him with projects and plans to improve the quality of life of the population and actively participates in them. She performed those missions that Zuko can only entrust to her. After all, she was a friend he could rely on and to whom he could open his feelings.

In her design, I wanted to reflect the combination of two cultures: Fire and Water. I was based on the designs of the "12 Kingdoms" (if you haven't watched this gorgeous anime or haven't read ranobe, I strongly recommend doing it. This universe is no less interesting than the avatar's world, I'm sure you'll like it), because the palace intrigues and the plot with winning the respect of the court reminds me very much of the story from there.

One day Zuko's legs finally gave up, he could not get up. All the stress he was going through was breaking his body so much that at some point the Katara's treatment stopped working.

It was a very difficult moment for both of them. Zuko has just started to promote his ideas and defend his rights to the throne, and Katara sincerely did not know what to do. If the truth about the true state of the Fire Lord had come out, all the ill-wishers would not leave this opportunity and attack, this couldn't be allowed. They urgently needed to create the appearance that everything is in order, but how?

Zuko came up with a very brazen idea. He asked Katara to use bloodbending on him to simulate walking. It was a very difficult request for her, because this skill represented the worst face of the war, it was created to torture people. And the last thing she wanted was to torment Zuko. She hesitated for a long time, he saw it, but he couldn't wait. He couldn't stop, it wasn't a luxury he could afford. Therefore, he went out, trying not to get up and move much.

Naturally, at some point his weakness was noticed at the most inopportune moment. Naturally, at this moment Katara couldn't let Zuko fall. Imperceptibly under her sleeves, she moved her friend's body like a puppet, causing him as much unbearable pain as most would not stand. But Zuko was not like that. He stood it.

It looked like this to me somehow:

They were both very depressed that day. He was suffering physically because of Katara's bending, and she could not believe that she had caused the suffering of a person dear to her. It broke and scared her, she opened the way to the Hama's madness, and was very afraid to fall into it.

Zuko assured her that it was impossible. Hama didn't have people to guide her, while Katara has friends. Maybe Zuko didn't consider himself the best moral mentor, but he promised to be there in the most difficult moments for Katara, and now he won't leave her.

This encouraged her and opened her eyes to her own cowardice. She was afraid of the darkness of Hama, and instead of curbing it, Katara hid it in herself, ignored it. And that's what it led to: the person who needed her help suffered. But she didn't want to run away anymore. She wasn't going to give up without a fight and turn her back on those who needed her.

At the beginning, Katara trained on herself, experiencing the same pain as the victims of bloodbending. Careless movement of blood through the vessels could cause internal bleeding at any time, it was very dangerous. The Hama's voice in her head pressed on her conscience, saying that innocent people felt all this pain, and only Katara was to blame for this.

Later, she learned to control the flow of water on puppets, like Hama. The point was to pass water through the threads without bursting them. Absolute control was required here, and Zuko taught her the techniques of firebending for self-control. This was necessary for Katara, because the Hama's voice in her head did not subside and did not allow her to correctly distribute her forces. It seemed like Katara was about to stumble, but Zuko wouldn't let her do it.

Gradually, Katara mastered this skill and tried to draw blood on Zuko's legs. The effect was unexpected. Her great willpower and desire to help him resulted in healing. Zuko began to feel his legs, and Katara discovered the reverse side of this bending. No, she didn't heal him completely, it's too early for him to get rid of the cane. But maybe one day she will become so strong that she can do it.

Katara realized that there was no evil magic, there was only evil intent. This was her first step towards learning to look inner demons in the face, and not to hide them in herself when it was possible to hurt others.

But what about the other design?

Katara's father sent her a letter asking her to return. Her family needed her help, because she was the last waterbender, a carrier of culture and skills, as well as a healer of a new level, the daughter of a tribal leader.

At home, everything was not the same as before, moreover, everything taked shape as a Northern Tribe. I really like the idea of the comic "North and South" about the problem of assimilation. Only here has Katara accepted all aspects of its culture, even the most unpleasant ones, and she would not give up so easily when this newfound knowledge was in danger of disappearing.

Actually, I wanted to draw her outfit of this arch. I wanted to redesign the costume for myself, because I like to do it. I kept the front strands of Katara, we don't talk much about them.

I would really like to describe the path of the rest of the team and what they do, of Aang and what happens to him. But I'm already tired of typing, and you probably read.

After all, the post is more about designs, and not about the AU itself, so the goal to reveal some of my ideas has been achieved in principle. Maybe sometime later.

Hope you enjoyed reading this :3

[cenvast]

Kabru/Toshiro: A DunMeshi Ship Analysis

Kabshiro has been gaining more traction recently, so I'd like to dive into their canon dynamic and how a relationship between them could progress and benefit them both in the long run!

In my opinion, the main draws of this ship are:

Communication: Kabru's ability and willingness to identify and engage with Toshiro's true feelings and motives, Toshiro's consequential willingness to express himself to Kabru, and vice versa

Trust: The almost immediate trust they place in each other, despite their reservations

Canon Friendship: How naturally yet rapidly their canonical friendship develops, especially considering their characters (read as: their intimacy issues)

Growth: The potential for a) Toshiro to grow as a person by trying to be more expressive and caring towards someone who cares for him and b) Kabru to experience reciprocal effort and care from someone else when he's used to caring for everyone else

Bonus: I love to see queer men of color in love <3

1. Communication

Kabru is the character with the fastest and most accurate read on Toshiro's feelings and motives. This means little on its own, considering Kabru's skill is assessing people and giving them what they want as a means to his own ends. Initially, Kabru engages with Toshiro essentially to reach Laios. He hears Toshiro's retainers discuss Toshiro's love for "that girl from the North" and recognizes that if he offers to help Toshiro rescue Falin, he can get to Laios. As he does with most people, Kabru identifies Toshiro's goals and uses this knowledge to propel himself towards his own goals.

During Laios and Toshiro's conflict over ancient magic, Kabru again steps in. He de-escalates a situation where Toshiro quite literally has his tachi against Laios' neck by acknowledging Toshiro's concerns regarding ancient magic and reminding him of his actual priority: Falin. While his dialogue sounds harsh, Kabru still validates Toshiro's worries. His acknowledgement and engagement with Toshiro's actual feelings isn't something that Toshiro often experiences. In part, this is because Toshiro doesn't express himself, but we'll get into this more later.

From Kabru's perspective, reading and responding to Toshiro effectively is reflective of his usual habits and strengths. But their respective reactions to Kabru's de-escalation exchange remain notable. Toshiro tells Kabru to not finish his statement — the first glimmer we receive into Toshiro openly expressing himself to Kabru at a greater level than he does with other characters. Kabru immediately switches to looking relieved and sympathetic. He apologizes to and comforts Toshiro, establishing a foundation of genuine care and consideration between them.

2. Trust

After they leave the Dungeon following the first Faligon fight, Toshiro asks Kabru to go with him to the governor's house. Despite their only recent acquaintance, Toshiro expresses a need he has to Kabru, even if it's not a very personal one, and he trusts Kabru enough to rely on him in a high-stakes situation. (As a sidenote, Kabru telling Toshiro to "Please get some rest" is a sweet moment, considering both of their fraught relationships with self-care.)

Kabru trusts Toshiro in return. We as the readers don't learn about Kabru's backstory and how it drives his actions because he tells his own party or Laios. We learn about his past because he tells Toshiro.

Kabru addresses Toshiro by name before he recounts the death of his family and his haunting questions surrounding it. When he turns back to face Toshiro, he looks visibly determined and quietly enraged at the injustices he's experienced in his life for the first time during the narrative. Kabru does share his story to convince Toshiro of his position, but his straightforward, vulnerable delivery of his story and the emotions he has surrounding it speaks volumes towards the trust he has in Toshiro. He believes Toshiro will see him and stand by him.

Also, prior to Kabru sharing his backstory, Toshiro questions his motives multiple times. While Toshiro also questions Laios' actions, Toshiro feels comfortable enough to communicate with Kabru even when they might disagree and he isn't under duress.

Within the first few days of knowing each other, Kabru has witnessed Toshiro at some of his lowest points: passing out due to hunger and sleep deprivation and fighting Laios. Because Kabru has already seen him at his lowest and hasn't treated him worse because of it, Toshiro seems more comfortable engaging with Kabru than with many other characters. Toshiro's attempt to throw the companion bell away is a funny moment, but it also demonstrates how he's fine with acting impulsively in front of Kabru; he doesn't hold back as much as usual. He's likely also realized that Kabru can see past his reserved front.

After they speak to the Canaries, Kabru asks Toshiro to help him seal the Dungeon. Although Toshiro had originally planned to go back to Wa, he agrees to help Kabru. Compared to their initial meeting where Kabru was only using Toshiro to get to Laios, Kabru seems to genuinely want Toshiro and Namari on his side, telling them, "I'm counting on you." Both his request for Toshiro's help and his easy agreement demonstrate a surprising level of trust for how long they've known each other.

3. Canon Friendship

Neither Kabru nor Toshiro regularly open up to the people in their lives. We get the heart-to-heart between Toshiro and Laios after their fight, but other than that, Kabru and Toshiro are not very emotionally open even with people they've known since childhood like Rin and Hien. Kabru maintains his charismatic facade around Rin, and Toshiro has distanced himself from Hien in their adulthood. Because both of them struggle with being vulnerable, their friendship becomes close interestingly fast.

Beyond feeling comfortable around each other for the previously stated reasons, I'd suggest that the ease they feel around each other partially arises from their shared identity as Asian men and immigrants to the Island (Note: I read Kabru as South Asian). As a queer Asian man myself, there's sometimes an immediate sense of ease between people whose identities and experiences overlap.

Before they ever meet, Kabru explains Toshiro's background to his party. He opens with Toshiro's outsider status, drawing the reader's attention to the parallel between Toshiro being an outsider in his household and Kabru being an outsider as a tallman who was raised by elves. In this scene, Toshiro is also the only member of the Touden party whose motives Kabru ponders aloud. With Laios and Falin, Kabru simply declares them "not good people." Considering Kabru is intrigued by people he doesn't immediately understand, it's not difficult to assume that though Kabru approached Toshiro because of Laios, he was also interested in Toshiro as an individual.

After they join forces, Kabru and Toshiro frequently appear together in the story. The evolution of their dynamic can be seen through the mangacaps below. Initially, despite their trust in each other, they're still a little suspicious of each other. As time progresses, they develop a language of silent glances and casual touch. We often see them standing beside each other and exchanging looks after Laios speaks. Considering how Toshiro doesn't often voice his negative opinions and Kabru makes an effort to curtail his negative reactions around Laios, the fact that they've both taken to expressing silent concern for Laios to each other shows that they've reached a significant level of intimacy in just a week or two.

Since they're both men of color and Kabru is one of the only characters who doesn't call Toshiro "Shuro," they've likely discussed Laios' microaggressions towards Toshiro and bonded over how they find his sillier behavior of eating monsters disturbing. They also both care for him as a friend, so Laios remains another point of connection for them.

At the banquet, they sit beside each other, and when Falin revives, Kabru comforts Toshiro via a hand on his shoulder. The canonical affection between them is easy to track and consistent by the story's close.

4. Growth

As stated by @malaierba in their platonic kabshiro post, Kabru and Toshiro share narrative parallels like being raised by surrogate mothers, over-analyzing social situations, attempting to act in others' best interests at the cost of their own, and being terrible at basic self-care (I'm also realizing we both touched on the de-escalation and Kabru backstory scenes, lol). Both characters are actually extremely similar in the way they conceptualize themselves.

Kabru and Toshiro both avoid offending others by suppressing their discomfort. This behavior is deeply rooted in their backstories and their identities as people of color and immigrants. When you're the outsider, you don't have the luxury of acting as you please. Society expects you to keep your head down and not "cause a fuss."

They both fear selfishness. Kabru is the archetypal sacrificial hero; his goal is equality between the races and minimizing mass death no matter the personal cost to himself. On a much smaller scale, Toshiro tries not to burden others. They both forgo intimate relationships and falsify parts of themselves to accommodate others. Their willingness to minimize themselves for others' sake leads to them to not even canonically care for themselves and becomes a form of passive self-harm.

Toshiro doesn't eat or sleep during his rescue of Falin in what seems like a self-inflicted punishment for failing to protect her and save her. He seems to believe that he's only useful for what he can do and in particular, do for others. He seems to struggle to define himself outside of how he's overshadowed and overlooked by his charismatic father. Toshiro's arc is about learning to identify his own needs and wants, pursue those things, and express himself.

Because of how charismatic Kabru is, Kabru appears to have a secure sense of self, but I'd argue that he falls into the same trap as Toshiro. When Laios becomes the Dungeon Lord and seems to be ending the world, Kabru blames himself, saying, "What purpose does my surviving Utaya's tragedy have?" and "Please just kill me right now." Kabru hasn't ever established what he wants for himself outside of what he can do for others, just like Toshiro. While Kabru is far more active than Toshiro and his goals are more heroic, his arc is similarly about identifying his own needs and wants and expressing them as demonstrated by his confession that he wants to be Laios' friend.

Like Toshiro, Kabru is disconnected from his desires because he doesn't see himself as worth prioritizing over the greater good. He fails to regularly eat and clean his living space.

Kabru and Toshiro's friendship challenges both their negative habits of self-perception. Unlike with Laios, Toshiro wasn't quite as pivotal to Kabru's goal, so their relationship develops without as much pressure. Because of the extreme circumstances of their first meeting and their compatibility, they express their true feelings towards each other nearly from the onset, and by the banquet, they seem to hang around each other just for the joy of the other's company. When their friendship extends into a romantic/sexual relationship, they get to knock down yet another barrier to pursuing what and who they want simply because they want to.

In addition, because Kabru is the first person to care about Toshiro in a way that doesn't infringe on his boundaries, Toshiro would hopefully be motivated to become an active participant in their relationship. His efforts to be more emotionally open in order to support and care for Kabru would help him overcome his fatal flaws of passivity, especially in interpersonal communication, and walling himself off from others. But most importantly, Kabru would receive the same amount of care he invests in learning about and accommodating other people from someone else.

Toshiro is also an observant person. He's good at mapping out social situations to avoid conflict, and he is empathetic. With a little encouragement, he could easily turn skills he's used to pouring into his defense mechanisms towards actually reading his loved ones and engaging with their emotions and needs. If Toshiro was consistently clocking Kabru's actual reactions to things and trying to address his desires, Kabru would realize that he doesn't have to play a part all the time. He would learn to be more authentic and vulnerable in his relationships.

Notably, Rin does support Kabru, but he doesn't really accept her love or act vulnerable around her for a multitude of reasons. This is probably a good time to note that Kabru and Toshiro are both sexist. I want to believe that a healthy relationship between them would encourage them to mature without demanding emotional labor from the women in their lives, and by proxy, improve their relationships with Rin, Hien, and the other female characters. Personally, I really enjoy the idea of Kabru, Toshiro, Rin, and Namari getting close and bonding over being Asian.

5. Bonus

Because their identities as Asian men and immigrants impact their characters, their relationship has a unique type of intimacy. On a societal level, there isn't a lot of media about two characters of color in love. It's even rarer to see two queer characters of color in love in Western media (or Asian media like DunMeshi with an ethnically diverse cast) as oftentimes, the West falsely equates queerness to whiteness. I consider Kabshiro to be my personal contribution to making queer Asian characters kiss and decentering that white man /hj. I'd love to see more Kabshiro content!

Overall, I just think it's beautiful that these two characters who've resigned themselves to loneliness in completely opposite ways can overcome their intimacy issues to trust and care about each other. I like that being together is easy for them in many ways, but unlearning their habits of constantly putting on a front and rejecting vulnerability or not putting effort into relationships out of preemptive fear of failure still takes work. I like that their relationship is an intentional one where love takes effort, but the effort is part of the love.

₍ᐢ. .ᐢ₎ ₊˚⊹♡

If you read this entire meta, thank you so much, and please feel free to reblog and/or send me an ask with your Kabshiro thoughts! As a shameless plug, you might enjoy my canon-compliant Kabshiro fanfiction that spans from the banquet to a few months post-canon. There's both an explicit version and a version with fade-to-black sex scenes. You can expect:

Kabru and Toshiro's silly friends-with-benefits era

A resolution for Toshiro's feelings for Falin, lol

Toshiro's difficult relationship with food

Kabru trying to 5D-chess everything, and Toshiro overthinking and catastrophizing <3

Kabru, Toshiro, and Laios being friends! They are silly and well-meaning and do their best to support each other

Kabru and Toshiro unpacking Laios' racism

Extremely homosexual moments of tenderness

Kabru, Rin, and Toshiro trio and Namari and Toshiro duo friendship tidbits

Kabru and Marcille becoming friends and bonding over gossip

Angst with a happy ending and more!

[dyns33]

Rafiq alruwh

I'm not sure yet if this will be a Bane x reader oneshot or not.

I like it like that, but I could find ideas for part 2. My only problem being that I still need to finish others Tom Hardy's characters story, while wanting to write Feyd Rautha stories.

As much as Y/N listened to these stories over and over again, she couldn't imagine the feeling everyone would describe.

The moment your skin touched your soulmate's skin, and suddenly everything became clear, better. A feeling of joy and the burning need to stay by this person's side forever.

It was a rare phenomenon that scientists could not explain. It was completely impossible to know when this would happen, or if it would happen, because fate seemed cruel. Most people either didn't have soulmates or didn't have the chance to meet them in their lifetime. The world was too big and time too short.

There were still skeptics, who claimed that it was all nonsense, lies, invented by people blinded by love or who wanted to give themselves a certain gender. Only those who ended up meeting the person changed their mind, the others remaining too jealous to accept the truth, considering that it was only a romantic utopia.

Y/N wanted to believe in it. She dreamed of meeting her soulmate and experiencing this special moment.

Her parents were not meant to be together. It was visible.

In her entourage, she had an uncle who had had this experience, a few neighbors, a friend, and all had said the same thing.

What they had in common was that they were all good people. Maybe that was one of the reasons.

“You might have had to choose another type of profession then.”

"Mom…"

“I’m just saying that cop is not the most popular job in the world.”

"And I would say that choosing to be a non-corrupt police officer in Gotham is almost like being a saint."

"You'll end up getting killed, long before you meet your soulmate. I'll never understand why you wanted to be a cop, especially in this town."

There came a day when her mother's fears almost became a reality. The day when terrorists took the entire city hostage with a bomb, preventing everyone from entering and leaving.

It was probably not what she had thought when she talked about dying, but for several months, hidden with her colleagues, Y/N thought about her soulmate, trying to imagine this meeting that would probably never happen.

Staying mainly with Blake and Gordon, she tried to hide her pain, but it did not escape Miranda Tate, who took her hand with a gentle smile and asked what was tormenting her.

“We’re going to die here.” Y/N whispered. "I mean, I'm not afraid of that, that's the risk of the job. But… I didn't think it would be like this now. I wish I had met my soulmate before."

"Your rafiq alruwh. I didn't think many people cared about it here."

"My what ?"

"That's how my father called soulmates. I grew up with a lot of stories about it, because he and my mother were related. I prayed a lot to be that for one of my friends, but no. Our destinies are linked, but not like that.”

"Sorry."

"Even if I would have liked him to be mine, I wish him happiness and that he meets his other half one day. A being worthy of him, of his love and his protection. He deserves to be happy. You too, you seem kind. Maybe you shouldn't have been here."

Her words were strange, but Y/N didn’t tell the others. It wouldn't have changed anything anyway. Even though she had discovered that Miranda Tate had the detonator, that she was the real leader of the terrorists, the streets remained controlled by the militias.

As always, they were saved by the Batman. She had never really known what to think of the vigilante, protected by Gordon and hated by everyone else. He clearly wanted to help Gotham, but his methods remained illegal, and not necessarily effective in the long term.

His death was a tragedy, but not necessarily the end of a symbol. Hope was still there, even stronger, and the Gotham police were determined to ensure everyone's safety.

Y/N felt this determination too.

Still, she froze as she inspected the sewers with Blake and Ramirez. They too had a moment of hesitation, as their lamps illuminated a body. A huge body, sitting against the wall, face hidden by this frightening mask.

There had been a search for Bane and his men after the explosion. Witnesses said the Batman fought him, and won, but they found nothing.

Obviously, the terrorist had managed to drag himself here to die.

"What do we do ?" Ramirez asked shyly. “Should we put a bullet in his head ?”

"What ? Why do you want to do this ?"

"To make sure he's dead. I've seen a lot of movies, man, I know the mistakes to avoid."

She didn't approve of the speech, but Y/N agreed, it was necessary to check it out.

Feeling almost stupid, she moved forward slowly, her hand reaching towards Bane to see if he felt a pulse.

She didn't expect the large hand that quickly grabbed her neck before she could touch him.

Fear paralyzed her body, and yet there was something else. An indescribable, incredible feeling, which resembled happiness but more intense, which was absurd in this situation.

Y/N felt so lost that she didn't realize the hand was relaxing, just resting against her skin instead of squeezing and snapping her neck like it easily could have done.

"Habibi…" was the word spoken with difficulty by Bane, who stared at her with an indecipherable expression.

“Let her go right now, you bastard !”

Maybe he was as confused as her, or maybe he was too weak, but the terrorist didn't avoid Ramirez's punch, while Blake grabbed Y/N to pull her as far away as possible.

She stood still, not understanding what was happening, as Ramirez called for reinforcements, proud of having been able to knock out the giant, even though he knew as well as anyone that he would have had no chance. if his mask hadn't been damaged and he wasn't half dead. It was not possible.

Bane couldn't be her soulmate, Y/N refused to believe it. A man like him had no soul, not after everything he had done, and above all why would he be destined for her ? She didn't feel like she had committed a crime that deserved such punishment.

She was probably never going to see him again anyway.

If he survived to Blackgate, he would be locked there forever. Even if she had permission, she had no intention of visiting him.

But the feeling remained there, strong, impossible to ignore, demanding more. An incomprehensible need to be close to the one who had touched her, so that he would touch her again.

Y/N resisted. She gave her report to Commissioner Gordon, forgetting a few small details, and indicating that she did not wish to follow this case, leaving Bane's case to better agents than her.

This seemed to surprise him, as he considered her one of his best people, but he accepted.

However, it was impossible not to think of her soulmate, since the whole town was only talking about him and his arrest. The television was on loop every day, and her colleagues thought they were doing the right thing by keeping her informed of progress.

"They say his face is horrible. I think there are photos in the file."

"I'd love to see that ! I can't imagine that fucker at all without his weird mask. Do you think he has a normal voice without that thing ?"

“I can go get it so we check.”

Ramirez's gaze met hers as he stood, and without her needing to speak, he knew it was best for him to sit back down and change the subject.

Y/N didn’t see the photos. She absolutely didn't want to.

After several weeks, she asked to take a vacation, claiming to still be traumatized by what had happened to her, in addition to the near destruction of Gotham. She needed some time to rest.

Turning off all the screens and her phone, she tried meditation to clear her mind, so she could get some sleep and forget that her soulmate was a crazy, half-dead terrorist who would soon be judged.

This miserable attempt being a failure, she turned her phone back on shortly after midnight, only to be bombarded with calls and messages, coming from several colleagues, Blake, and Gordon.

"What is happening ?" she asked, calling the Commissioner back.

"Damn, I almost sent men to check on you, you weren't responding ! Where are you ? Are you okay ?"

“I’m at home, why ?”

"Don't panic. Blake will come get you."

“Gordon, what’s going on ?”

"He hasn't said anything since his arrest, keeping very quiet, and then yesterday Bane spoke. He asked to see you, giving your name. The other agents are categorical, it's impossible that he knows ot, no one told him. The agent simply replied that you were not on the investigation, and even on vacation… Damn, he…"

“Gordon, what ?”

"He escaped, Y/N. We don't know how. No one knows where he is, or what he's going to do. But since he talked about you, I don't want to take any risks. Don't move, John will come right away."

She could have told him that she knew very well why Bane had spoken about her, and that it was undoubtedly necessary for her to leave without delay, but fear held her back.

Even if it wasn't her fault, what would the commissioner think when he learned of her connection to the fugitive ? He was a good man, but all men had their limits, and she would be the first to be wary of someone designated as Bane's soulmate.

After hanging up, she jumped out of bed to grab her gun and shoes, ready to wait for Blake to arrive in her living room.

Y/N froze in the middle of the hallway, seeing the huge figure standing between her and the front door.

His face was covered by a scarf, his posture a little less proud than in the videos she had seen of him during his city hostage situation, he appeared to be in pain, but it was obvious that if she tried to pass, he would retain her without the slightest difficulty.

“Habibi.” he whispered, and indeed his voice was different without his mask, more human. "What a joy to see you again. More beautiful than I remember or on pictures. Will you come with us without resistance ? I don't want to hurt you."

"Hands in the air." she replied, pointing her gun at him, ignoring the urge to hug him. “Don’t move, my colleagues are coming.”

"I admire your sense of duty and honor, Habibi. But I will not return to prison, ever again. And I will not leave you either. I thought of you every day. Is your neck healed ? I need to repair my wrongs to you.”

“I said, put your hands in the air.”

“So you leave us no choice, Habibi.” he sighed, looking behind her.

We. He said we, and someone gave him her name. Y/N reacted too late, one man grabbing her gun, and the other not holding her shoulder, injecting something into her neck with a syringe.

In an instant, she found herself on the ground, her vision blurring, but her body not panicking, as it was invaded by an incredible sensation. Bane had reached out to hug her, his eyes smiling as he ran a hand over her cheek.

"It's okay. I'm taking you home, rafiq alruwh."

All her life, Y/N had waited for this moment, this feeling, this sentence. She told herself that the stories we said to children were really stupid, as her eyes closed.

[victimeyez]

The Dollhouse

Chapter 28 of Professional//Victim

Tommy is paralyzed for his client, and begins his role as a doll.

CW: Captive whumpee, intimate whumper, drugged whump, dehumanization, "willing" whumpee, medical whump, medical torture, doll whumpee, doll fetishization, desecration of remains, and strong horror elements.

~

Dae-Ho opened the door with a warm smile and eyes filled with excitement. Tommy recognized him from the brief video chat they’d had over Caius’s phone. 

“Tommy, Caius, Sam! You came! Please, please come inside!” He ushered them in like family long since seen. Stepping into the foyer, Tommy took a quick moment to take in the place. The lobby more resembled the waiting room of a spa, designed to be warm and calming. A wax heater perfumed the air with some scent, clean and slightly sweet. A fountain feature built into the far wall made for an exquisite accent, incorporating rustic slabs of warm-toned river stones with a little waterfall trickling through merrily. It was carefully fashioned to appear naturalistic, leaning away from a cool cement design that could bring to mind cemetery features. 

Neatly aligned chairs and couches were offered for anyone waiting, furbished with a soft tan hide and cushy padding tight enough to still offer support. An enormous persian rug carpeted most of the room, light and clean with dark blue accents to help balance the warmer tones. There was an office attached, and a small counter crafted to still appear open and welcoming. A soundscape of soothing nature sounds permeated quietly, accompanied by string instrumentals light enough to calm but not depress, 

I could never afford to die here, Tommy thought. There was a distinct feeling he always got when they visited the ritzy places many of his clientele inhabited. Truly, it was almost the same that he felt in his life before. As an impoverished punk in ill-fitting thrift store clothing, whenever he visited anywhere that displayed a modicum of wealth, he got a distinct feeling of being alien and misplaced. I don’t belong here. He knew it, and everyone else did, too. He did his best to act otherwise, but he simply couldn’t hold his space the way people experienced with luxury could. Especially now, deprived as he was within his meager living space. Even the rest of Caius’s house felt too fancy for his worth. 

If Dae-Ho judged him, he did not show it. His eyes twinkled excitedly behind his horn-rimmed glasses, kind and inviting. He was exquisitely dressed in a fitted black suit, with subtle paisley dyed slightly darker in a shadow-like effect. In lieu of a tie, he wore a well tied cravat of magenta with a matching pink and white pocket square. He wore shiny saddle shoes with shiny magenta laces. If he had donned a top hat and a cane, it would not have looked out of place. 

“Tea or coffee for you gentleman?” Dae-Ho swept a hand towards a stand beside the desk, laden with various coffee and tea accoutrements. 

“Coffee sounds good,” Sam suggested. 

“I wouldn’t turn down an earl grey, if you have it. Would you like anything yourself, Dae-Ho? Tommy would be happy to serve you,” Caius asked, his customer service voice in full force. Dae-Ho smiled and waved his hand easily. 

“Nonsense! You are all my guests, I am excited to have new additions to the tea party. I make everything for it myself, though dinner tonight will be catered so we can maximize our time together. If you’d accompany me to the mortuary, I have a sanitized space available where you can prepare Tommy.” Dae-Ho took Tommy’s hand in his and squeezed lightly, giving Tommy a giddy look as if they were sharing a private joke. He led them back down a couple hallways, followed closely by Caius and Sam. 

There was an electronic keypad Dae-Ho unlocked to enter the lab, and he held the door for Caius and Sam without letting go of Tommy’s hand. His grip was oddly gentle, his hands a little damp, the only indication he might be nervous. The flooring inside was a black and white tile dotted with intermittent drains, with a wall of morgue drawers along the back. There was a main slab in the middle of the room, but it resembled an adjustable hospital bed more than a classic metal autopsy table. No railings, allowing for easy access, but it was padded and covered in a shiny laminate for cleanliness. Other rolling racks and trays were stored neatly to one side. Sam whistled, looking around appreciatively, as if being shown some kind of pornography for custom labs. There was an acrid smell to the room here though, a far cry from the melted wax scents in the foyer.

“I have something special for you, Tommy. I had it tailored to you, per those measurements Caius sent,” Dae-Hold told him, dropping his hand to go collect his gift from one of the cabinets. Tommy wasn’t aware of any measurements Caius had sent him, but he knew Sam occasionally took his body measurements when he lost weight. Dae-Ho came back with a long and thin gift box, wrapped and tied thoughtfully with a silky red ribbon. The bow it culminated in looked complicated, and he hesitated to touch it when Dae-Ho set it on the slab before him. 

He had been trying to read Dae-Ho since they met eyes at the door. There were plenty of things he could surmise about him from the state of the manor, the decoration, and his personal sense of style. It was interesting how he was treating them like friends, dropping the formal pretense of a business transaction in spite of his careful state of dress. Tommy had anticipated being regarded as a doll from the very start, not that Dae-Ho would acknowledge him and act so fondly. He had asked Tommy to say hello to him over the phone, but Tommy had dismissed it as a kind of wind-up doll desire. Pull the string to hear what your dolly has to say!

What he couldn’t tell yet was Dae-Ho’s intentions. His joy and hospitality felt very genuine, regardless of the circumstances. 

You know this, you just can’t quite put your finger on it. What does a doll have to offer?

“Tommy?” Dae-Ho prompted, when the gift wasn’t readily accepted.

A doll offers…

The coin dropped. He remembered then, something he had already forgotten that he knew.

A doll offers companionship. He wants a companion. One without needs, one that never disagrees or dislikes the things he likes. Companionship without the emotional risk of genuine human connection. 

A people pleaser. Specifically, a Dae-Ho pleaser. I can do this. I can be this doll. 

Tommy shifted gears abruptly to accommodate, straightening his posture and smiling brightly. Dao-Ho flinched in surprise, but Tommy was tuning in. 

“Wow, this is beautiful Dae-Ho! You are so thoughtful. I’m afraid to open it, it already looks so nice, I don’t even know where to start,” he gushed, touching the sides of the box reverently. He tipped his head down slightly to look up at him through his eyelashes, giving a shy but flirtatious smile. Dae-Ho’s eyes immediately widened, giving him a broad grin back, even taking a step closer as if Tommy had magnetized him. 

“The pleasure is all mine, I wanted you to have it. Would you like help opening it?”

“Yes please,” Tommy said, giving him a little embarrassed smile. Dae-Ho’s eyes gleamed manically, and he tugged on one end of the ribbon, drawing it slowly to watch it unfurl. 

When he lifted the lid, Tommy got a look inside. It took a second to make sense of what he was looking at, but after his experience with all the strappy nightmares Caius put him in, this one was easy to figure out. Unfolded, it was a thickly braided wire armature with leather straps attached to buckle it on. It was shaped a little like a stick figure with no head. He could make the leap without an explanation - this would buckle like a body harness onto him, with a wire skeleton that they could use to pose him. He tested a wire braid with his hands, and it was pretty strong, but still bendable by hand with some force. 

Tommy felt nauseous looking at it. He’d known he would be paralyzed, but this felt grotesque. The threat of impending helplessness made the little color he had drain from his face. 

“You’ll be the best dolly,” Dae-Ho reassured him. Tommy kept his forced smile, but he held it with a grim resolve.

“Thank you Dae-Ho, this is very special.” 

He numbly followed orders to strip, and stand there naked, his arms and legs held away from his body as the armature was attached. The wire at the top had a smaller ring that attached the metal spine through his collar. He supposed it was easier to get it on before he was paralyzed, but once it was on, he was out of time to remain autonomous. Stiffened now with the armature in place, Dae-Ho generously helped him onto the table. As he laid down, he felt as if he was resting his head in the cradle of a guillotine. When Sam lined up a tray of shots and leaned over him, Tommy imagined the rope in his gloved hands, ready to cut it and get the session started in earnest. 

“What I’m going to be administering today is a series of pain blocks at the base of each limb. These are localized anesthetics that will prevent any sensation at all throughout each appendage, until it starts to fade after about seven hours. He also will be unable to move the limbs at all. I had one of these done when I got surgery on my arm – I had to hold my arm in my other hand when I walked for the rest of the day, otherwise it would start swinging like dead meat from my shoulder.” 

Dae-Ho laughed like Sam was telling a joke. 

“The only parts he’ll be able to feel, or have any muscle control, will be from here-” Sam drew imaginary lines with his finger over where Tommy’s thigh connected to his groin over to the base of his hip, severing his legs completely.

“-to here.” He drew lines from the base of each of Tommy’s shoulders down through his armpits.

“Ah…” Dae-Ho flanked Tommy’s other side and reached out to touch him, stroking an appreciative hand down his chest to his stomach. 

“So smooth,” he complimented. 

A gentle hand like that could have been something Tommy enjoyed, but under the circumstances, it revolted him. Dae-Ho’s hand stopped just above his groin and he held Tommy’s hip instead.

“Will he still be able to feel pleasure?” 

Tommy’s stomach churned. Sam looked slightly put off, as if disgusted by the idea. Like he hadn’t unloaded down Tommy’s throat the night before. 

“Yes, he should still be able to feel…everything. Like that.”

“Good,” Dae-Ho breathed. He reached up to touch Tommy’s lips, tracing them with a finger. As part of his “dollification”, Caius had used a lip stain on him that made them look pinker and plumper. He’d even glued on false lashes, delicately curled to give him a more doll-like appearance. The final touch had been the colored contacts, wide emerald irises on top of his natural greens.

“I have a few rules for you, so I need you to listen closely, okay?” Dae-Ho reached up to tap his own ear, as if instructing a toddler. The top of the wire armature was uncomfortable against the back of his skull under where Tommy was laying. He nodded. 

“One - dolls are always happy.” Dae-Ho smiled and pointed to the corners of his mouth. Tommy answered by mirroring his smile in a mirthless mask. 

“Good! Two, dolls do not speak. If Dae-Ho wants you to speak, Dae-Ho will tell you.” Dae-Ho pointed to himself, as if it was not clear, even when slipping into third-person. Tommy nodded. It would be a nice break from trying to guess what the right things to say were, at least.

“Three, dolls do not cry. Dolls are happy to be with Dae-Ho, dolls do not speak and complain, and dolls do not cry. Okay?” 

Hadn’t he just been thinking about that? It was eerie. He definitely hadn’t said anything about it to Dae-Ho, and wracking his brain, he couldn’t recall Caius saying anything about it. They hadn’t discussed it in the short video call. 

Sometimes he did this with Caius, when he would say something and Caius would look at him like he’d just read his mind. I was just thinking that! Are you having one of your little psychic moments, Tommy? He would ask playfully. 

Psychic - as if. If he was, he would have run before Caius could take him. Maybe he wouldn’t have agreed to finally go to church with Mom, for just one Sunday. If he hadn't gone, he never would have met Caius’s mother. He never would have met Caius. And sure, cancelling would have disappointed Ma, but that wouldn’t have been any change of pace. 

“I’ll go start the tea. When I come back - we follow the rules, okay?” Tommy gave Dae-Ho a mechanical nod, and he breezed out. 

Tommy counted ceiling tiles while Sam cleaned a spot by his hip with an alcohol wipe. He hated needles. He didn’t usually go weak at the knees about them anymore, not after all the hundreds of injections they’d put him through over the years. Vaccines, antibiotics, scar treatments, anesthetics, muscle relaxants, steroids, cocktails Sam cooked up and didn’t even tell him what he was being injected with. Not to mention, more stitches than he could count. 

He remembered, suddenly, something he hadn’t thought about in a long time. His piercer, back home, a lifetime ago. She worked out of a tattoo parlor with no name, just the generic TATTOOS sign on the side of an old road in a bad part of town. His bad part of town. But she was gentle, as gentle as one could be with a needle, and he knew because he’d gotten other piercings elsewhere. 

Anika was tall, making him feel especially small when she stood before him as he sat on the edge of the tattoo table. She was so pretty, with all her piercings, her voice deep and sweet. He’d liked her short hair, but her new braids looked good too, loose strands framing her face with the rest swept into a high messy bun. He liked the way she laid her baby hairs, in tiny little curls around her hairline.

“Alright, don’t forget to breathe. Quick pinch. Breathe in…” Tommy took a slow breath in, and the needle slid through the shell of his ear. She quickly slid the piercing into place, leaving it in as she retracted the piercing needle. “-aaaaand breathe out. Good boy, you always take it like a champ.” His heart fluttered a little in his chest, the way she said it. 

Words like that were different nowadays. Maybe that’s why Caius chose him. Saw his hopeless need to please somehow, and decided to make Tommy please him. 

Sam pushed the needle into his shoulder. Breathe in, Anika said, an echo from years ago. He breathed in, slow. The numbness started to streak down his arm immediately, and Sam pulled the needle out. Breathe out…good boy, Tommy, she complimented. It didn’t matter that she never called him Tommy, when he knew her. It didn’t matter that she never even remembered his name. 

She talked him through each injection, comforting even as Sam worked with clinical austerity. Tommy focused on his hands, making them into fists, relax, fists, relax. Curling his toes, uncurl, curl, uncurl. Until they felt weaker, and weaker, and numb, until he couldn’t feel them at all. Like they’d been amputated, no signal at all that they were even there.

The best he could do was wiggle a little by tensing his stomach. His limbs, the bulk of his bodyweight, were suddenly dead weights, fleshy anchors he couldn’t unbind. This wasn’t just being tied up - he was completely imprisoned in his body. 

Tears welled in his eyes before he could stop it. It felt like the contacts might actually help a little as he blinked them back, trying to compose himself. Sam returned to his side, holding a steel water bottle. 

“Open,” he coaxed, twisting the lid off. Tommy did, but Sam pinched his nose anyway, pouring the water into his mouth. At least, he’d expected water, but there was a kind of chemical taste to it, something sweet. He swallowed it to keep from choking, but when Sam pulled the bottle back, a pink trickle dribbled down the side. 

Bastard, Tommy swore internally. He should have guessed Sam was drugging him when he waited until Tommy was unable to move to have him drink. Caius pulled a tissue from his bag and dabbed around Tommy’s lips.

Completely unable to move, no matter what happened, for the next seven or so hours. Fed aphrodisiacs, while he couldn’t fight back, while he couldn’t attempt to cover himself. The helpless feeling suddenly became overwhelming, and a few tears overflowed, even as he struggled to hold them back. 

“Oh dear. It’s alright, little one, be brave for me,” Caius cooed. He ran a hand softly over Tommy’s belly, soothing him with a gentle touch. In spite of everything, it helped. He wiped the tears away with the tissue.

“Is it scary?”

Tommy’s throat was too thick to speak. He managed a nod. Caius gave him a look of sympathy, more than Tommy would have expected after his demands. Sam’s face reflected his similar bewilderment.

“This won’t be so bad. He just wants to play with you, he doesn’t have any plans to hurt you. You can eat and drink, he really does have a tea party planned. We will be with you in case you need anything. Did you have fun at the aquarium?”

“Yes,” Tommy croaked, and then cleared his throat. “Yes, I did, thank you, it was beautiful. I had a lot of fun.” Less hoarse this time, and the leaking from his eyes was quickly subsiding.

Caius did a little more shuffling in his bag, and his touch returned to Tommy’s face with a powder brush, covering up the pink on his nose and the red around his eyes. “I had fun with you, too,” Caius admitted, and something about it brought a funny smile back to Tommy’s face. 

Deep breaths. You can do this. You don’t even have to talk. Play dolls with him. Just…babysitting.

Definitely not babysitting, another part of him reminded cruelly. He wanted to know if you can feel pleasure, they drugged you with the aphrodisiac. You’re going to spend the day as the perfect unwilling fuck doll and there’s nothing you can do about it. Tommy tried to shove those thoughts to the side in order to keep his newfound composure. 

Sam pinched and poked his arms to test the numbness. It might as well have been done to someone else, for the amount of sensation Tommy got from it. When Dae-Ho came back, his gaze on Tommy was hungry.

“Let’s get you dressed up again, shall we?”

The armature harness had replaced the fashion harness part of the outfit that he had chosen, but Dae-Ho pulled his stack of clothes from the counter where Tommy had folded them.

Trying to bend the armature to make his limbs follow was unsuccesful. After some fussing, Dae-Ho realized he could bend it much easier by manipulating Tommy’s limbs themselves, letting his weight help apply force to bend them the way he wanted. The wire was strong enough then to hold him in place. Dae-Ho posed him a few times for fun, and then used it to bend his limbs in positions that made dressing him easier. 

“I should use these for all my bodies!” Dae-Ho exclaimed, a little breathy from the effort. Tommy had been dressed by Caius and a few others before, when he was unable - or unwilling - to dress himself. Not in the things some of the clients wanted, especially at the beginning. Tommy knew better than to fight back much anymore, though he had just made his little stand in the car earlier.  

When he was dressed again, in his blousy white dress shirt and black latex pants and matching bowtie, Dae-Ho laced him into a pair of saddle shoes with spats. He was settled into a wheelchair, lowered in with practiced ease by Dae-Ho. He was deceptively strong underneath his fine suit. Tommy was wheeled to the stairs then, Caius and Sam trailing behind, and stopped at a stair lift waiting at the bottom. He’d only ever seen them in commercials before, of elderly people smiling as they buckled themselves into the seat to be pulled up the stairs on a motorized track. He could see it installed up the wall, rounded off at the corners to go up the stairs, turn onto the landing, and continue up the next flight that changed direction. 

Dae-Ho turned to Sam. 

“Doctor, will you please help me move it onto the lift?” Sam had a pinch in his forehead, but after a hesitant look to Caius, he agreed. Not being able to feel or move his limbs was uncomfortable to Tommy - any part of him that wasn’t supported hung limply down, and he couldn’t help at all. As he was settled into the chair and buckled in, his arms bent awkwardly in front of him. Sam moved his hands into his lap, and one immediately fell off, dangling strangely. The best he could do was attempt to sit up and back to move his arms back in, but they were nothing more than warm dead anchors hanging from his shoulder. He also couldn’t adjust his hips to sit up, so he hung uselessly in his harness. 

With the press of a button, the chair let out a grinding sound and started to advance up the wall. At the corner, he heard his ankle bash the wall, but he couldn’t feel it at all. The helpless feeling was significantly worse than when he was bound and he could strain against his bindings - this was more intimate, more violating, the way it robbed him of the little autonomy he had left. 

The machine went slower than walking speed, so the others met him again at the top after passing him. Dae-Ho already had another wheelchair ready, and he flopped haphazardly in with a push. The acrid smell had grown sharper, turning sour and musty, though the upstairs appeared clean and brightly lit. Caius wrinkled his nose slightly, struggling to be polite, but Sam gave a look of open disgust. 

Tommy was wheeled into a lavish dining room, made up as the pinnacle of a lavish art-deco design. It felt like it belonged in a scene from The Great Gatsby. The center of the room was dominated by a round table - and the rest of the company had already found their places. Dolls were seated around the table, some propped up in chairs, others in wheelchairs like Tommy. They were of varying sizes, some child-size while others appeared as tall as Caius. There were a variety of designs among them - some very simple, others far more realistic. One had clearly been a scarecrow, a few were just mannequins, and a couple of halloween prop dummies with plastic heads and hands. One seat held a long body pillow with a pillowcase featuring an anime girl posed in a vulnerable way, blushing. 

There was a gigantic Barbie and Ken, their placid smiles unsettling at such a size. Next to them sat what looked like a crash test dummy that had been badly painted, the mouth too low on the face, the eyes too far apart. A large green power ranger plushie had a spot, as well as a plastic Optimus Prime that stood up stiffly in his chair. One seemed to be an evil clown animatronic, another one a human-sized plushie blue tiger.

 Tommy preferred that to the ones that were obviously sex dolls, made with an attempt at realism that was undermined by their soulless faces and cartoonish proportions. Most of the dolls were dressed in roaring 20’s outfits, but the sex dolls wore skimpy club wear that highlighted their enormous plastic breasts and tiny waists. Other more detailed mannequins had closer to human proportions, all slightly different shapes and sizes, but their plastic faces were identical - one face for all the “women”, and another for the “men”. Their eyes were sunken, but more lifelike in color and size, the glossy glass orbs taking on a wet look. Wigs, flapper dresses, patterned suits, and fake eyelashes abound. 

Dae-Ho’s seat was obvious, as an empty throne of garish gold. He had a sex doll immediately to the left, and wheeled Tommy into an empty spot to the right. Caius and Sam took to a couch on the side, away from the table. 

“You all get to know each other a bit, and I’ll be back with everything for the tea party,” Dae-Ho addressed his inanimate guests, and left the room.

The smell was strong, though if Dae-Ho noticed, he didn’t mind. As soon as he left, Sam started searching the room. 

“We’re not casing the joint, you know,” Caius mused, as Sam made his way around the edge of the room. 

“It smells like - something, I can’t put my finger on it, but it reeks in here,” Sam explained, opening the drawers of a wardrobe. He sniffed over one, made a face, and started to rummage through. 

“We are directly above his embalming room, you’re probably smelling something from that,” Caius pointed out, but they all knew the smell had been fainter in the lab below. Sam ignored him, moving on to another drawer.

“Hey,” Caius said sharply, and both Tommy and Sam jumped. Well, as much as Tommy could jump. 

“We are guests here. Stop touching his things, put everything back exactly the way it was, and sit. Down.” Caius hissed, and it sent Sam quickly packing everything back in. It felt a little like a mother reigning in her boys, though Tommy sat dutifully in his place at the table - not that he could do anything else. 

“Just let me look at the dolls,” Sam mustered, passing the couch to inspect them. Caius sighed.

“If he comes back and sees you, he very well might invite you to the table. And if he does - you will sit down at that table and shut your mouth, so help me god.”

Sam sniffed around the circle, but he mostly just seemed curious about the dolls. He poked the animatronic in the eyes, and posed the Optimus Prime with his little hands on the table. When he got to a sex doll, he squeezed her breasts, giving a mischievous smile to Caius. 

“Jealous?” He waggled his eyebrows up and down goofily. Caius rolled his eyes, a smile tugging at the corner of his thin lips. 

“Hardly. If you want some big silicon tits, I know a doctor who might be able to help.” 

Sam twiddled with the swollen boobs. “They even have nipples.”

“Of course, how else would she breast feed?” Caius said dryly, but he was enjoying his boyfriend’s antics a bit. 

Sam reached the mannequin beside Tommy, and pulled it back to sit upright so he could take a closer look. 

“These ones have like - I think these are real human replacement eyes, like if you lose an eye? Do they use those on bodies?”

“No, much worse, they put these little hooked pieces inside to keep the eyelids closed,” Caius supplied helpfully. Sam and Tommy made the same face at the same time in response to the information. 

“I knew a doll fucker, this guy Pete. Had a whole ‘harem’ of the things, even had a wedding ceremony with at least one of them. I almost went, just to see, but there wasn’t an open bar and the ceremony was supposed to be like two hours long. But he was collecting these mannequins that they used in a couple high end places in France or something, they were super articulated and rare. These might be those types, or something like it.” Sam squeezed one of the arms. 

“What do you bet all of these have a fleshlight installed? I bet even Optimus over there is rocking something.” Sam pulled the wig hair back to get a better look, and made a face. 

“Oh, shit, this thing stinks. I hope we don’t have a-” Sam stopped suddenly, freezing in place.

“Don’t,” Tommy whispered.

Sam pressed something behind the ear, palpating it with his fingers before switching to picking at it with his fingernails. 

“Sam don’t-”

Sam tugged shortly, and then slower, drawing out an enormous metal pin that had been hidden inside the head. The awful smell grew much more intense, and a foul brown liquid dripped down the side of the doll’s face from where the pin had been pulled. 

Why Sam couldn’t leave it be, Tommy would never know. But when Sam pushed the wig away from the hole to see, the doll’s head shifted and opened like a clam, the face swinging open and away, clicking lightly when it hit the hinge behind the other ear. Plastic blond ringlets fell in the way as Sam let go, but they couldn’t cover enough of what was inside. 

The face underneath was leathery and shiny, with glass-like cracking in areas. All the shellac in the world couldn’t keep a body from rotting. The false eyes were glued over blackened sockets, obtrusive and bulging. Her lips were painted on poorly, closer resembling a beak, and the thin shell of preservative was the only thing shaping the nose, which seemed to have liquified underneath. 

The smell was putrid and overwhelming, and both Tommy and Sam turned away to retch. Sam crossed the room away from it, leaving Tommy dry heaving beside the body. 

With a horrified realization, Tommy looked up and counted the other dolls with the sunken, human eyes. Six total, hunched over in wheelchairs around the table. Sam was swearing, but Caius stepped up beside Tommy to look, holding a hand over his lower face. 

Doing a once over of the "doll", Caius sighed.

"Damn."

~

Taglist:

@suspicious-whumping-egg  @just-a-whumping-racoon-with-wifi @whumpyourdamnpears @generic-whumperz @lonesome--hunter

@whumplr-reader @theelvishcowgirl @sunshiline-writes @dont-be-gentle-please @galesgallery

@2in1whump @sparrowsage @apokolyps @whumpinggrounds

@morning-star-whump @leviiio @alexmundaythrufriday @defire @jumpywhumpywriter

@light-me-on-pyre @slightlydisturbedbeans @dislexiher @knivestothroats @paperprinxe

@watermelons-dont-grow-on-trees

Thank you all so much for reading!!!

[awh-bowie]

⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪21 things i’ve learned since becoming an adult

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ three years is not a terribly long time, but, i feel like regular metrics of time simply cannot be applied to girlhood and the transition to womanhood. my childhood felt like a single moment and being a teenager felt more like a century. but i digress, what have i learned in the three years since i became a legal adult?

୨୧ fostering meaningful friendships is far more important than any romantic relationship ୨୧

♡ the thing about romantic and physical relationships, especially when you’re young, is that they are not a reliable constant. all i can say about this is that close, trusted friends will benefit you better than any “situationship”.

୨୧ think of yourself like a plant, just a little bit more complex ୨୧

♡ what i mean by this is simple: if you feel awful for seemingly no reason, get some water, eat some fruit and go outside. more often than not, the mysterious specter making you sad is just yourself forgetting fundamental self-care!

୨୧ the best product for glowing skin is free! ୨୧

♡ drinking enough water is one of the easiest and most effective ways to maintain healthy skin. hydration helps flush out toxins, keeps your skin cells plump, and improves elasticity. scientifically speaking, staying hydrated supports your body’s natural detoxification processes!

୨୧ cry, cry, cry! ୨୧

♡ crying is a wonderful and natural way to release negative emotions, not something that is weak or embarrassing. we go into this life screaming and wailing, why stop now?

୨୧ invest in blue light glasses ୨୧

♡ blue light is the enemy of your eyes, especially looking at it in the dark. getting yellow-tinted glasses is a game changer, especially if you prefer low light! i never turn on my big light.

୨୧ you have boundaries, period. ୨୧

♡ there’s no such thing as not having boundaries. you can go through life without experiencing things you’d rather not experience again, these experiences create boundaries. if you genuinely can’t think of any boundaries, i suggest doing some journaling! here are some prompts i made for myself that really helped me.

୨୧ balance is good, but extremes aren’t evil ୨୧

♡ it’s okay to indulge, to be hedonistic! as long as you’re honoring yourself and the people in your life, go crazy every once and a while. that’s what life is about, diving into the things you love.

୨୧ use lighter concealer under your eyes ୨୧

♡ a lighter shade of concealer under your eyes helps brighten your face and hide dark circles!

୨୧ diet affects your skin and hair ୨୧

♡ proper nutrition plays a critical role in skin and hair health. consuming foods rich in vitamins and antioxidants, like fruits, vegetables, and lean proteins, can help prevent acne, improve hair growth, and promote a radiant complexion. see my post here to learn more ;3

୨୧ no one is looking at you, seriously, it’s biological ୨୧

♡ let me get a little sciency here. humans tend to overestimate how much people actually notice us, and this is something called the spotlight effect. it happens because our brains are wired to be super focused on ourselves, making us think everyone else is just as tuned in to us as we are. spoiler alert: they’re not. studies have shown that people pay way less attention to you than you think. realizing this is so freeing because once you know that your little slip-ups or bad hair days go unnoticed, you can start living with a lot less self-consciousness. embrace the freedom—no one is watching as closely as you imagine.

୨୧ independence isn’t loneliness ୨୧

♡ being independent doesn't mean you can’t ask for help or rely on others. sometimes the strongest thing you can do is reach out for support when you need it. true independence comes from knowing when to lean on others and when to stand on your own!

୨୧ dedicate time in your day to unplug ୨୧

♡ taking regular breaks from technology allows your brain to rest and recharge. studies indicate that unplugging can improve focus, reduce stress, and enhance well-being. scheduling time each day for a digital detox is beneficial for your mental health and productivity.

୨୧ you don’t have to justify the things you love ୨୧

♡ “i know it’s dumb but i really love [media] because it has my favorite actor in it!” STOP!! if you find yourself preemptively insulting your interest or explaining why you like it, stop and think. ask yourself what about the situation made you feel like you needed to do that.

୨୧ it’s okay to outgrow things ୨୧

♡ i wish i could stay a kid forever, but being an adult is kinda sick. drifting away from people, hobbies, media, etc… is a natural, unavoidable part of growing.

୨୧ it’s okay to not outgrow things ୨୧

♡ that being said, there’s nothing wrong with hanging onto the things that make you happy! if something you have from when you were a kid still brings joy to your life, it would be silly to give outgrowing it another thought. the fact that it still brings you joy means it cannot be outgrown.

୨୧ vitamin C for bright and even skin ୨୧

♡ vitamin C is a powerhouse for your skin!! it helps brighten your complexion, fade dark spots, and even out your skin tone by reducing melanin production. dermatologists recommend incorporating a vitamin C serum into your skincare routine to fight off free radicals and promote collagen production.

୨୧ being “busy” doesn’t equal being productive ୨୧

♡ it’s easy to confuse busyness with productivity. but being constantly busy doesn't mean you're getting more done. true productivity is about working smarter, not harder, and taking time to rest when needed.

୨୧ taking breaks IS productive ୨୧

♡ like i said, taking time to rest is key. studies show that regular breaks throughout the day, especially short ones, can improve concentration, reduce mental fatigue, and enhance performance!

୨୧ cold water rinse for shiny hair ୨୧

♡ a cold water rinse at the end of your shower can help seal your hair cuticles, resulting in shinier, smoother hair. cold water also helps reduce frizz and preserve hair’s natural oils.

୨୧ celebrate every victory ୨୧

♡ no win is too small! celebrating your successes, big or small, reinforces positive habits and boosts motivation. you deserve it, every day you exist is a victory in the eyes of others. according to psychologists, taking the time to acknowledge achievements can increase your sense of accomplishment and satisfaction.

୨୧ they say “trust your gut” for a reason! ୨୧

♡ your gut feeling, also known as intuition, is your brain’s way of quickly processing information based on past experiences and instincts. neuroscientists have found that gut instincts often come from subconscious pattern recognition, and trusting them can lead to better decision-making in situations where logic might not offer clear answers.

-Beau

[chronicallycouchbound]

Guide to interacting with people with psychosis spectrum disorders and psychotic symptoms

If someone who has psychotic symptoms is talking to you about their hallucinations or delusions, do not suggest:

That they are inherently violent or dangerous Why: Statistically, people with psychosis are more likely to be victims of violence, not perpetrators. They are more likely to be killed by police than people without mental illnesses.

That their hallucinations are actually reality and everyone else can’t experience it Why: this can cause further dissonance between reality for the person, especially if they’re actively experiencing symptoms. It can lead to derealization and depersonalization, and exasperate or trigger hallucinations and/or delusions.

That they are a prophet, god, all powerful, etc. Why: along with the above reason of causing further separation from reality, many people with psychotic spectrum disorders experience delusions, one common type of delusion is called delusions of grandeur, which is a specific delusion around perceiving oneself or one’s accomplishments as greatness or of higher status than others. This specific delusion can be dangerous because it can lead to the person believing that they are immune to consequences, including physical harm to oneself. By affirming beliefs of the person being god-like, it can trigger or exasperate this delusion. This is especially common with people who have Bipolar type 1 with psychotic features and they are in manic states.

That they should just meditate Why: Meditation often isn’t safe for people with psychosis! Studies show that unguided meditation is especially risky, because without focusing on reality, people with psychotic symptoms are more likely to have hallucinations, or have depersonalization/derealization.

That you can see/hear it too, when you can’t/lying to agree with their hallucinations Why: This will absolutely exasperate symptoms, also it’s lying and is wrong and a genuinely horrible thing to do. This one should be obvious.

That they should just use cannabis or other psychoactive drugs Why: THC and other psychoactive compounds, can trigger psychotic episodes in people who have or are predisposed to psychosis, and trigger anxiety and hallucinations, which can exasperate symptoms. That being said, individual experiences may differ greatly, and they may be able to use psychoactive substances with no issues, but to suggest it as a cure-all or without a proper understanding of its possible negative side effects can be dangerous. Also, many antipsychotics and other psychiatric medications interact with many psychoactive drugs, so it’s important to know if it’s physically safe for them to use both at once.

Things you can say/do instead!

When actively experiencing symptoms/episodes:

Maintain a calm and steady tone of voice, don’t yell.

Explain what you’re doing before you do it, and try to avoid sudden movements which can scare or jump someone

If they have an action plan, follow it. I also urge you to remember that they’re scared right now. They likely don’t want to hurt anyone, but they’re terrified. Find ways to be safe, preferably that don’t involve police (there are lots of statistics around why this is unhelpful and can be dangerous)

“I understand that you feel scared right now, let’s find ways to be safe through this.” Be supportive! Psychotic symptoms are similar to symptoms of any other mental illnesses, when someone is depressed or anxious, we often reach out with kindness, remember that people with psychosis also need that compassion and consideration.

“We are at [location], I am [name] we are [relationship to person], we are safe” Talking about reality can be really helpful, most people with symptoms need some guidance around basic understandings of reality, affirming what is real can help them distinguish what is and isn’t. An important note, reality checks can sometimes be more harmful than helpful. Usually, a person who needs a reality check will just ask the questions: “Who are you?”, “Where are we?”, Etc.

Sometimes, doing reasonable things to help them feel safer is necessary to help them calm down enough that they stop having severe symptoms. For example, someone who is afraid that people are watching them might want to cover windows and lock doors, help them create a safe space for them mentally by doing that. Some requests might be a bit odd, but harmless, like putting salt in the doorways so demons can’t get in, you can do that, or find alternatives to help them feel safe. It’s important to try to create this safe space while also affirming reality.

Try not to focus on the specific hallucination, but rather on their feelings, for example instead of talking about the demons or details about the demons, talk about their feelings about the demons, and how you can make them feel safer. It can help them feel secure to have someone in reality helping them stay safe while they cope with these scary symptoms.

Ask permission before touching, consent is particularly important for people with psychosis, we are often stripped of our right to consent while in episodes.

Offer snacks, stuffed animals, or other comfort items

When talking about their experiences, diagnosis, or when not in episodes:

Ask how you can be supportive, both in and outside of episodes, some people need help with remembering medications, or someone to call when they’re scared and having symptoms. Sometimes it just helps to be able to explain what they’re going through and have someone just listen. They know their needs best.

Help them come up with a crisis/safety plan for when they have episodes, it can literally save their life, or at least make it more manageable and sometimes less scary.

Check on them if they seem off, have life changes, or are isolating.

Learn their warning signs and help them stay safe before they have episodes, and hopefully prevent them from happening or being more unmanageable.

Offer to do reality checks if that's something that helps them

Offer to do medication reminders ( if you're able to)

I was diagnosed with Bipolar 1 with Psychosis when I was 18. I have many psychotic symptoms including hallucinations, delusions, derealization, and depersonalization. This was written from my own experiences, research, and recommendations from providers. I highly recommend seeking out more information and experiences about psychosis to gain a more comprehensive understanding of it. No guide is one-size-fits-all, and this is definitely incomplete in many ways, but hopefully, this provides some insight or education for you.

[soapoet]

W.I.T.C.H. pick-a-card reading

Hay Lin; next big change

like & rb if it resonates ♡

01.

Shufflemancy: 7 rings by Ariana Grande

ready for takeoff? well, buckle up, buttercup! you may have experienced delays in relation to your passion projects, studies, work, or side hussles, but things will be picking up speed soon. the more thought, intent, effort, planning, or work that you have put into things even during a stalemate, the greater the speeds you'll be reaching once things finally get going. you might experience this is as an easy breezy walk in the park or a roller-coaster ride, all depending on how much faith you've poured into this. you may hear back from that job or school with positive news, or have a successful launch to a passion project. there could be a raise or a promotion of sorts in store, and you seem to find yourself at the right place at the right time a lot. you feel luckier than ever before and things just work out in your favour. this is a huge relief considering you've had to work twice as hard as everyone else or deal with more setbacks and variables.

you'll be experiencing a very different timeline overall, especially with all the nuisances and heaches that just always found their way to you to take away your focus and drain your energy. your schedule may get a little crazy and hours start to feel like the most valuable currency. this effect is likely to be long-lasting and keep you busy for quite a while. do remember to afford yourself some celebratory rest, too, you've certaintly earned it. but all in all it seems like you'll be enjoying the change of pace and the various doors that finally open up for you, and you've been so ready to explore new opportunities and uncharted territories for so long that it's no surprise you'll want to do and see it all and be on the go.

02.

Shufflemancy: Lavender haze by Taylor Swift

whether or not you have travels planned, be it near or far, there is a distinct element of newness, adventure and exploration coming in for you. something may have had you feeling stuck in the daily grind and routines and had you bored out of your mind. you're about to gain some freedom and independence, almost as if shackles come undone and you get to run wild and free. you'll be meeting new and interesting people, some of whom quickly turn from strangers to lifelong companions and partners in crime. soul family members are headed in your direction and you'll look back to this time later in life and joke about all the funny little synchronicities and how within a couple weeks you could've sworn you've known each other your whole lives.

besides platonic connections, you may find yourself in the spotlight attracting many admirers, especially if you've felt like the sea has been emptied of all the fish. some of these are just fun and flirty encounters that serve mainly to put a pep in your step and make you hold your head up high. there may be drama in store, but nothing too messy. in fact, you may actually enjoy the telanovela of it all. one or two of these will stand out to you, and you might find yourself weighing pros and cons between two people you would seriously consider for something more. so long as you let things happen to you rather than trying to force anything or play private detective, you'll be sure to make the right decision as events and information unfold themselves to you naturally. you may even be surprised by how things turn out when you don't let bias or expectations tip the scales one way or the other and simply observe how the tables turn all on their own.

03.

Shufflemancy: Sleep alone by Two Door Cinema Club

you may sigh in relief as you finally make it out of a stressful situation. whilst everyone else seem to be making plans, you're clearing out your calendar. you may want or truly need to recharge, reconnect with yourself and get some peace and quiet. the world is looking a little brighter and it's easier to breathe again. when was the last time you had the chance to just sit and pay attention to your own thoughts and feelings?you may feel like you've been sleepwalking, living life for a while fast asleep and going about your days on autopilot. now you're awake again, and it's not to go wild and crazy but to reflect on yourself and how you feel. you may be doing quite a bit of soul searching at this time and asking yourself a lot of important questions. and not just asking, but really pondering and seeking answers. who are you? what do you want? what do you need? this journey of self discovery will make you feel so at peace and you'll find yourself unfazed by things that previously would have cost you your peace of mind and good night's rest. turbulent emotions calm down and the pendulum swing slows. you find the grey between black and white, rise above to see the big picture, and make a home in the in-between.

some people may try to rile you up, and others can be disappointed by, or even judgemental of, your newfound calmness. when you no longer show up to fight wars that aren't yours and decide to do what feels right to you, some will take that as betrayal, even when your values still align with theirs. real ones will see that you're achieving more good through love instead of hate and commend you for your new approach and how much it let's you grow. you may be taking a step back to connect with hobbies you've had to drop previously. through working on your natural talents and honing your skills you may find yourself collaborating on a project regarding something important to you. and it doesn't feel forced or like a burden when it's on your own accord for once. allow yourself to enjoy your own company and honour your feelings and interests. even if your change in course ruffles some feathers at first, you will gain a lot of respect and admiration for choosing your own path and staying true to yourself.

[possiblylando]

Chainsaw Man 165 'Early' Analysis

Media is what I would call the main theme of part 2. To be more specific Part 2 is about how people engage with media. Especially in these last few chapters and arcs as a whole, the throughline is clear. Nobody cares.

Corpses are just rotting in the street they've been there for at least a few hours and a week+ at most. Nobody except Denji seems to care about the present everyone is exclusively concerned with the next big event. It's a critique of how the modern internet tends to interact with media. If something exciting isn't happening then it might as well not exist. People only start to acknowledge something when there's some crazy moment or event to bring up. It's the 24 hour new cycle. There's very little lingering.

The panels like these stuck out to me because of how personal and slow they feel. Like actually taking time to stop and acknowledge the moment. Denji being the voice of reason in this chapter- and part 2 as a whole (while in human form) shows a lot of how he's grown and how his past still effects him. Denji isn't normal. He's seen hell (figuratively and literally) so he understands whats going on. He may not be able to put it into words but he understands the problem in what's happening on an emotional level. Everyone in Chainsaw Man has lost something. But Denji has experienced it all. He started in the gutter, started climbing out, got what he wanted, then got kicked right back down. Everyone else had something to begin with and then lost it. They're all at their lowest currently. Denji has been lower than all of them still.

Alot of this chapter is also about Denji as a character. Not him as a person but a character in a piece of fiction. Asa and Katana verbally dragging him between extremes they think he should be. Never once in the chapter does anyone stop and ask Denji what he thinks or wants. Even if they mean well they don't even consider Denji as a person. Just as a thing to push in a direction to make him do what they want. It's been apart of this entire part. Yoshida trying to stop him from becoming chainsaw man, public safety dissecting him, asa trying to make him normal, yoru trying to kill him, katana man trying to get him laid. None of them actually care about Denji's thoughts. Some of them act like they do and I'm sure some of them have good intentions. But that doesn't change their actions. It all just reeks of

The worst part is that Asa has good intentions. But she isn't thinking of Denji. She's thinking of herself. Everything Asa is trying to get for Denji is actually something she's been trying to get for herself.

She may be talking to Denji; but the fact she looks away, its like shes just talking to herself.