#hope without action is worthless

[waystead-prophet]

It will not get better

The just slaughter will not raise us together

The words of “at some point it’s gonna break” who is going to crack that dam? What retrebution is cost by throwing the first stone?

[myheartxmyman]

[neodymiumcuilz]

SAVE A CHILD IN 🍉🍉 BEFORE ITS TOO LATE.

"Hello my friend, I hope you and your family are doing well. Please my friend, my child needs your help. He is on a ventilator now and needs urgent surgery so that my child can live and get out of this health crisis. Please my friend, here at the hospital they are asking me to pay $2650 for the surgery and if I don't pay. To do the surgery they will take my child off the ventilator and my child will die. Please my friend, my family and my child need you to help me and spread our story and most importantly donate even a little. I swear this is very serious and very urgent."

This is @qaz-1998 who has reached out to me asking for help in saving the life of his child. I hope this post reaches people who are able to help.

My friends, the people of Gaza are just like you and I, human and deserving of rights. The children deserve to live and have a happy childhood, where they are warm, safe, comfortable and not in constant fear or have to face death. However this is not a reality for the children in Gaza, who suffer daily. They do not get the healthcare, medicine, food, water shelter and security they need. They have no source of income and the cost of living is extremely high.

This child deserves to live, and paying for necessary health care is almost impossible without donations. If you are able to donate, I urge you to please do so.

Donations are greatly appreciated and go a long way, don't underestimate the value of your donation, don't think for a second that your donation is worthless. Every single dollar/euro counts, what seems like a small amount to you is huge for them. It goes towards saving a child's life. Any action taken is a leap towards their goal, and goes towards improving the quality of life in gaza. Please choose kindness and do what you can;

Please visit @qaz-1998 , share his account, posts, campaign. Spread the word to get his voice heard. Get his story put there so more people will be inclined to donate towards his child. Any action taken makes a difference. Don't give up on them. Do your part. Thank you for having humanity.

[thedaythatwas]

on nagito komaeda and love

I just think it’s sort of funny that for a character whose (arguably) most well-recognized CG is this: 

komaeda’s narrative so heavily centers love. and I don’t just say this because I’ve had komahina brainrot for years (though this is true!!). even if you don’t care about komahina, it’s tough to deny komaeda is a walking tragedy in large part because of the role that love plays in his life. his characterization is driven by the way his luck has denied him love, and how he seeks it out regardless. in that sense, I think that without understanding komahina as at least one-sided, you miss out on one of the juiciest, most miserable pieces of komaeda’s character development.

tldr; a love-centered reading of komaeda makes sense, recognizing komahina as “a thing” in DR2 (whether you ship it or not) is pretty important to understanding how komaeda operates, and I’ll try to prove it right here under this page break!!

Part 1: Komaeda’s Love Life (or, his life without love)

I think it’s safe to assume that if you clicked here, you know about komaeda’s absurdly miserable, tumultuous childhood, but I’ll do a quick recap just in case! meteor kills his parents on a plane, he inherits a ton of money. he’s kidnapped by a serial killer, he finds a winning lottery ticket in the garbage bag he’s thrown out in. he’s diagnosed with terminal cancer and dementia, he gets into hope’s peak.

in his free time events, komaeda *explicitly* frames his luck cycle as something that takes away the people he loves. it only “takes action” against him after his relatives have died (for the sake of this essay, let’s assume that komaeda loved his parents, or would have at least been hurt by their passing). by way of other close connections… well, his wording here implies that by the time of his diagnosis, he didn’t really have anybody in his life. 

either komaeda didn’t allow himself to get close to anyone after the meteor incident, or he did, and they were taken away by his luck. at some point during his childhood, komaeda learned he should view himself as a death sentence.

so, how does this loss of love shape the komaeda we know? I’ll talk about this in terms of four of his defining (and connected!) traits in DR2 canon – the ones that really make his actions make sense: his self-loathing, his hope-seeking, his learned helplessness, and his certainty that his existence poses a threat to those around him. komaeda’s experience with loss makes him view himself as a source of death, which in turn fuels these tenets of his character. ultimately, his loss and the complexes that arise from it give him good incentive to push people away.

his self-loathing

komaeda hates himself. he views himself as worthless outside of his potential to serve as a “stepping stone” for the hope of the ultimates. he claims that this is driven by his beliefs around talent, which are in turn linked to the way his worldview rests on viewing hope as “absolute good.” the talentless (himself included) are only good for advancing the hope of the talented. still, his self-loathing is a bit more personal than that. take what he says and dig just below the surface, and it’s a clean cut trauma response all the way down. which leads us directly to…

his hope-seeking

komaeda is willing to do literally anything to serve hope. on the island, this (in short) means dying. this is where I prod at komaeda’s reasoning a bit more: komaeda’s willingness to act the way he does in canon also stems from his belief that his dying would be a net good for the world. his existence kills the people around him. his illness will kill him anyway. he has less than no value, and hope is invaluable. to go out for the sake of hope would give his wretched life purpose; it’s his dream come true.

and it’s no mystery why komaeda cares so much about hope: again, it’s a coping mechanism! komaeda’s belief that all bad luck is a necessary precursor for good luck and that hope will always triumph over despair is (as he himself says!) the only reason he’s managed to stay alive. I’ll say it again because I really can’t emphasize it enough – komaeda thinks that just by existing, he kills the people he loves. ouch!

learned helplessness / his existence as a threat

komaeda has, essentially, learned to submit to his luck cycle. all bad luck is good luck in the end – isn’t that amazing?! almost paradoxically, he’s hyper-vigilant about the negative impact his luck has on those around him. this is a tricky one. I make sense of it this way: komaeda’s perception of how much his luck impacts the people close to him isn’t inflated, like, at all. the supernatural way the world bends around komaeda to screw him over really does pose a danger to himself and others, and he takes measures to minimize that danger. his stated acceptance of his luck cycle is… well, again, he’s coping. 

if komaeda really thought that all bad luck is ultimately good luck, he wouldn’t try to protect his classmates from his bad luck. but, as we see in island mode, he does!

but really, who could blame komaeda for lying to himself? I’ll restate the facts. komaeda thinks that luck is absolute power. he says that he’s powerless against it. his luck has taken his family, and it’s left him with nothing but money that he doesn’t want. he’s certain he’s a curse, and there’s no end to that in sight: so long as komaeda exists, he’ll keep on losing – murdering – everything he loves. 

in the face of all of that despair, what can you do but abandon your self-esteem and pray for something good to come out of all of it? how else could somebody possibly survive carrying that burden, truly believing that load will never be lightened?

tldr; komaeda thinks his existence is a threat, and a big chunk of his personality is a frankensteined way of surviving the pain that comes with that. still, we should question how much of his worldview komaeda has really internalized without inner conflict. 

Part 2: Enter Hajime Hinata

we get some answers on that front when we see that despite the clear and obvious danger it poses, nagito komaeda still finds himself falling hard for hajime hinata. that’s really, really loud.

I’ll preface this part by saying that you don’t need to actively ship komahina to understand what I’m trying to get at here. this said, I’ll be recapping an argument you’ve almost definitely seen before: komahina is definitely “a thing” – at the very least as a one-sided thing. to this, I’ll add the (perhaps bold?) claim that without recognizing that much as true, you’re missing out on a big part of what makes komaeda so interesting.

komaeda’s FTEs make it abundantly clear that komaeda has feelings for hinata. apart from his famed failed love confession, the fact that komaeda is willing to allow hinata to get close enough to learn about his views on hope and luck is telling. 

(the smoking gun here hinges on trusting that komaeda was telling the truth during the time you spent with him; in so many words, that he only lied about lying. so, for the sake of argument, let’s assume this is true! there’s good proof for it, anyway.)

if you read his final FTE as komaeda flashing his soul to hinata and making a decision at the very last second to retreat, turning to old coping mechanisms to protect hinata from his luck, it’s sort of a komahina bombshell. that capitulation spells out for us that komaeda understands sharing his life experiences with hinata to be one of the most intimate things he could possibly do.

he recognizes the exact moment he lets hinata get too close – when his life story is finally told – and he does what he’s learned he needs to do to get them both out of that situation safely: he tries to make hinata hate him, and tells himself (and hinata!) that he did it for the sake of hope.

(and yet, komaeda let hinata approach him every FTE, knowing damn well that they were both playing with fire… very interesting.)

now, let’s say you don’t consider the FTEs to be integral to canon. I mean, you can really easily miss out on all of komaeda’s content if you choose not to hang out with him in chapter 1! so, for the skeptic, in the unskippable main story, komaeda tells hinata this:

komaeda cares about hinata despite everything. and I really, truly mean despite everything. at this point in the story, the fact that he still cares about hinata calls into question basically every single one of his core beliefs. he’s read his final dead room prize – not only does hinata not have a talent, we can presume that komaeda also knows hinata became ultimate despair along with the rest of them. 

hinata has continually sought out komaeda’s company, even though komaeda knows himself to be worthless at best, lethal at worst. komaeda was willing to let him get closer, even though he knows how dangerous that is for hinata. he can’t help but let hinata try to know him. 

isn’t he awful? to want what he knows he can’t have, even though that wanting has never done anything but cause pain? he’s really the lowest of the low, to love someone who destroyed the world, who makes him question the views that will allow him to do the only good thing he’s ever been able to do for it: to die for hope. 

and yet, it’s a nod to how incredibly capable of love komaeda is that he’s still willing to reach out for it, no matter how many times it’s burned him in the past, and how much it hurts him in the present to want it. he understands more than anyone that his feelings can only result in disaster. reading komaeda as someone who can’t help but go on loving anyway makes his story hurt so much worse. 

but, you miss a whole lot of that without an eye for komahina. seeing hinata as the eye of komaeda’s emotional hurricane (and keeping tabs on their connection accordingly) allows us to glimpse past the cracks in komaeda’s front. we see that komaeda’s worldview is less stable than he presents it as – hinata is where komaeda’s coping mechanisms, for better or worse, run up against a wall. that tends to be uncomfortable for a guy who’s just barely coping in the first place. then again, growth is supposed to be uncomfortable, isn’t it?

Part 3: The Future He Chooses

so, all of this considered, I think one of the most interesting ways you can flesh komaeda out post-canon is by asking how he’d find himself willing to accept love. whether that love is from hinata or the ultimates, whether it’s platonic or romantic, love is the thing that komaeda wants AND fears in equal measure more than anything. it’s the source of his self-loathing and his obsession with hope. it’s the reason he’s lived the way that he has for so long – lonely, and afraid of being anything but.

getting into a relationship wouldn’t solve komaeda’s problems for him, and that’s a good thing. it would force him to confront old ones, and probably create dozens of new issues for him, too. writing him through that makes for great character study!

hinata (or anyone else, for that matter) can’t love komaeda into loving himself, but he can give him a shoulder to cry on while he works through 22 years of fear and sorts through the wreckage of a worldview that’s long since stopped serving him. I don’t think his progress would be linear. but, I think that he could do it. komaeda learning to accept care is what his healing looks like. 

(well. and physically recovering from cancer and dementia. but that’s neither here nor there!)

a post-canon komaeda learning to love narrative is also in line with the themes of DR2. hinata leads the survivors out of the neo world program because he makes the decision to choose his own future, creating a new version of “hope” for himself and his classmates. likewise, komaeda can make the decision to save himself. that is, if he trusts himself enough to actually touch and hold the thing that he’s never been able to stop reaching out for, anyway.

after all, hinata is lucky too. (and if it turns out he isn’t… y'all like angst fics, right?)

(shoutout to @cynopter for looking this over and confirming that I'm not spouting nonsense <33 thank you for reading my thesis of the week <33)

[colourstreakgryffin]

Can you do Tanjiro x fem!reader where he accidentally hurts her? Like, he’s asleep and having a nightmare and reader is trying to wake him up and when he wakes up he punches her cause it was a nightmare about demons.

I hope this makes sense😭

Ommmmggg. Tanjiro will be so upset about that! I’m totally doing this, loves! Thank you!

Kamado Tanjiro- Truly Accidental

No… no… no. It was a accident. Tanjiro swears it! He wasn’t trying to put his hands on you! He was just having a truly vivid dream and he felt his body acting on it’s own. It made him swing at literally nothing, despite the fact his visions were merely fantasy

He truly woke up a familiar pained gasp and loud thud. His plum reds widened in shock and horror at the image before him, it tore his heart out and stomped all over it ten times fold. You, on your flat back and holding your cheek

No. He didn’t punch you, did he? Tanjiro is so panicked and concerned, his head screaming at him with such hateful comments, as he tries his best to crawl over to you to try fix the situation, his heart shattering at the way you flinch

He didn’t mean it… he was so sorry

“D-Dokusha… I’m so sorry… I-I… I didn’t mean to do that, I just—” Tanjiro whispered out in a plunge of disbelief and terror at his own subconscious actions. He woke up from such a horrific, hyperrealistic nightmare consisting of him throwing it down with a wave of rabid demons bare-fisted. He couldn’t believe he could take those monsters down without his katana but his fighting spirit and survival instincts kicked in to try defend himself

You, on the other hand, was sleeping peacefully and cuddled up to your lovely fiancé, Tanjiro when you felt his calloused hands grip your kimono a bit tighter, unintentionally stirring you awake as you scanned over his frowning expression and tighter clamped-shut eyes. He was asleep but imagining a not-so-pleasant situation in his unconscious headspace

In intense worry for your fiancé’s health, you begun to shake Tanjiro’s still frame with no response from him for almost a whole minute after whispering out his name repetitively and repetitive requests for him to wake himself up for far too long for your anxiety to handle. You needed to wake him up and comfort him over that obvious nightmare he was experiencing when the second his eyes shot open, his mighty fist swung at your face and flung you over the futon to the nearby wooden-pane floor. Both of you were really fear-struck and shocked at his actions

“Wait. Please, I-I swear I would never hurt you… I-I’m sorry, I love you. Come back…” Tanjiro whispers weakly at your horrified eyes glaring at him, tears welling up in his own glassy eyes as his brain tried its best to process exactly what happened. He couldn’t believe a single ounce of this situation and the fact it actually happened by his own fist. Why did he punch you when you weren’t a demon? How was that dream so realistic that it made him lash out at his beautiful spouse!

You sniffed softly at him, slowly raising up to sit and maintaining eye contact. Tanjiro was using everything he had to keep himself from crying as his guilt and shame piled up to an uncontrollable rate. How could he make it up to you when he was the one who caused you fear and pain? He would never forgive himself for this incident and he was very tempted to sleep in the kitchen or slice his own fingernails as punishment

He should be able to control himself. Hurting somebody important to him like Nezuko or Giyuu is a awful one thing, but hurting the one person he has developed such a powerful romantic love for such as you, it makes him feel like a worthless pile of shit. Rather it was a accident or not, he was ready to take the blame and accept you yelling at him… but you never did

You gently stroked his face to try comfort him, tears rolling over the soft skin of your hand as he went to protest at your kindness. He doesn’t deserve empathy after hurting you, you’re the victim. Why are you acting like he deserves forgiveness? You keep up a soft smile, further highlighting that nasty reddish mark on your cheek where his full-power fist landed and the mark he made caused his heart to stop beating for a second or two. Tanjiro kept his gaze on you, trying to process everything all at once even though, he just couldn’t keep himself composed anymore

“Dokusha… I don’t get it… I-I hurt you… I just punched you when you tried to wake me up… w-why are you—”

“Because I love you too, Kamado Tanjiro”

[shadowshrike]

Interfering with Halsin's Portal

It's pretty well known that there are a few situations you can get in where Halsin is well and truly angry rather than disappointed or worried, but I don't think a lot of folks know one of those situations is if you mess with his portal to the Shadowfell. It's a heartwrenching bit of acting. It's also fundamental to the plot of my in-progress fic Girdled Roots, so I figured I might share it with the other Halsin-lovers out there who have never seen it.

EDIT: Please be aware this is datamined dialog and may not be visible in game. It appears to be intended to trigger if the player attempts to enter the portal, which I don't believe is possible in the final game, or at least I couldn't find a way in the most recent version. Sharing this is simply to enjoy the incredible acting and get some plot bunnies moving, not to make any commentary about the game's canon.

Halsin's Initial Reaction

Halsin: No! Stop! Halsin: It's gone... that was our one chance. You've doomed this place to darkness! Halsin: I warned you - told you this was my burden to carry. Why didn't you listen?

The pure rage and despair is visceral. Prior to this, Halsin mentions this portal has been a century in the making, but he's so calm and measured (even upon success) that it is easy to dismiss just how much agony has plagued him as he hoped to make things right. This chance is everything to him. It has guided his every action for a century. It is a hundred years of work, prayer, and guilt to rectify the horrific fate of both land and people that came to nothing because a stranger he trusted refused to listen to him.

The portal breaking is the only time we hear Halsin speak the truth of its importance to him without a hint of emotional regulation. He is wild with pain. This man who is always thoughtful and slow to anger in the face of horror with the wisdom of age and suffering to guide him has become too overwhelmed to show any kindness.

Player response

The player is given several different ways to respond, and Halsin's reaction varies a surprising amount depending on how understandable their reason is. In most cases, he states that he needs to be alone afterward.

Option 1: I'm sorry - I acted on instinct. Halsin: Words won't repair what's been done to this land. Nothing will... I need to be alone.

You can hear the ache in Halsin's voice, but he's somewhat understanding of this response. He projects more sadness than unchecked rage. The player has admitted to making a mistake, and Halsin isn't the type of person who hold onto vengeance when an apology has been made, but he's not naive or people-pleasing enough to say "it's okay" or offer comfort either. The safest thing for everyone is for him to step away to grieve when there is nothing more to be done.

Option 2: I did all the work here - I couldn't just let you take the glory. Halsin: Glory?! There's no glory here. Now there's nothing here - only shadows and the total absence of hope. Halsin:  There is nothing more to be said... I need to be alone.

Pure fury radiates from Halsin's response if the player focuses on the idea of being some grand hero rather than actually caring for the outcome. What the player did was an unforgiveable act, dooming everything that Halsin holds dear, and you have the audacity to complain about not getting glory from it. Again, he steps away, but this feels more like he's doing it because he believes you're worthless to reason with rather than because he needs a moment.

Option 3: I saved your grove - I figured it'd be best if I handled this as well. Halsin: We were this close to healing these lands. Now your arrogance has torn open the wounds once more. Halsin:  There is nothing more to be said... I need to be alone.

Halsin is still frustrated with this response and unmistakably angry, but it's significantly toned down from the idea of wanting to go through the portal for glory. More like he thinks you're a self-important idiot than a truly terrible person.

Specialized player responses

There are also three special responses you can give if you have a particular class or diety.

Druid: I thought my powers were equal to yours. Halsin: It wasn't just power this needed - it was wisdom, understanding. I suffered along with this place for years trying to understand the curse... and it seems I will continue to do so. Halsin:  There is nothing more to be said... I need to be alone.

Interestingly, he responds much more intensely to a druid than some of the other player choices. It might be in part because he feels like a druid should know better. He lectures the player like an Archdruid would initiates in his Grove, alternating between angry and explanatory, trying to get the player to understand why they were wrong and the sheer magnitude of their error. He ultimately ends in a much more resigned place here rather than personally resentful. Like a father-figure being forced through further life trials because of a child's foolish indiscretion. Frustrating, but inevitable.

Selunite: I trusted in Selûne to guide me through the shadows. Halsin: My friend - I wish you had trusted in me.

This is probably Halsin's most simple response with the least vitriol. He fully understands this answer, even if he's disappointed by it. The fact he calls the player 'friend' suggests a certain tired acceptance of this being a natural behavior for a Selunite trying to do good. We don't see this calm in other responses where Halsin was surprised by the player's choice.

Sharran: The Shadowfell is no place for non-believers - I couldn't allow you to soil it. Halsin: I should never have trusted an ally of the Dark Lady.

If you've ever taken Halsin along with Shadowheart in Act 2, then you know he is absolutely scathing toward her and her faith. He likely isn't as angry if a Sharran breaks the portal because it is utterly predictable. It merely confirms a truth he already knew and talked himself out of. That Sharrans cannot be fully trusted in matters of their goddess, even if one was good enough to rescue his people from the goblins.

[anxresi]

She's already been punished enough...

...By being part of one the worst shows of all time, dufus.

A few points here, in the order of the OP presented their dubious 'case' (though I suspect this isn't actually how they feel and this is a somewhat disingenuous attempt was to provoke a reaction from a lot of others when they sent this to Reddit, in which case... JOB DONE).

1. Bullying, as bad as it can be, is not a jailable offence. especially the relative mild incidences we've seen in the show (up till S4 that is, which we'll get to later) Next.

2. As every right-minded person knows, this is 'New Chloe' e.g Chloe specifically created by Mr Astruc for the S3 finale onwards which bears no relation to 'Old Chloe'. 'Old Chloe' actually had personality, layers, humanity, humour, was a great super-anti-hero, the stirrings of redemption in her.... 'New Chloe' is just an out-and-out psychopath with no depth to her whatsoever apart from to be as ineptly evil as possible and increasingly embarrass herself with every tortuous appearance so Thomas can get his sick jollies, so this doesn't count. Sorry.

3. See: 2. Also, Zoe shouldn't exist... so, there's that. If you want to know why, please see my other posts... as I am saving up all my ire for something far more important as you'll find out below...

4. Now this is the one that REALLY boils my piss. How can I put this politely... Fuck off, you fucking cunt. Chloe's fucking father ENABLED her fucking behavior for fucking years by fucking throwing his money at the fucking problem instead of paying for the fucking psychological help she clearly fucking well needed and fucking IGNORED everything when her fucking mother regularly left Chloe alone, told her she was fucking worthless, didn't bother celebrating her fucking birthdays, forgot her fucking name time and time again...

I could go on. And you're telling me Andre is the FUCKING victim instead of Chloe, this FUCKING corrupt mayor. this FUCKING waste of space, this FUCKING pathetic excuse of a man who as her FUCKING FATHER could've put his FUCKING foot down at any FUCKING time and simply said "No?" What kind of a fucking 'mature' adult is he, anyway?! I suppose the OP also thinks fucking Gabriel deserved his fucking statue as well, in fact they should've hung fucking garlands of flowers from it whilst someone played fucking panpipes and everybody else fucking danced around. Fuck you.

Also worth noting here that Chloe fucking ADORED her father until the exceedingly unwelcome S4 'reboot' where she suddenly saw him as a fucking walking piggy bank (I won't even mention how they purposefully ruined her relations with Adrien, Sabrina, even her own butler... Chloe can't have any happiness in her life. It simply ISN'T ALLOWED).

Then they have the cheek to let his daughter be 'disowned' by him in the S5 finale and banished to London as if he fucking did nothing wrong in facilitating her attitude whilst failing to defend her against her despicable mother's abuse. (Yes, I said ABUSE I know the creator doesn't view it as such, but he's a fucking moron so what can you do?) Bullshit. Complete and utter undiluted diarrhea dripping from a bull's anal sac... that's what this is. I hope I painted an accurate picture for all of you. Sorry if you were eating.

So, it was supposably a happy ending that Andre got to fucking adopt another man's child without any reprecussions for his past actions, as he embarked on his new career as a fucking film director. What? You think that wasn't ENOUGH punishment for Chloe, OP? You think she should go to fucking jail as well, for DARING to be a child victim of incessant abuse, both in-canon and in-writing? I never thought I'd meet a person who's more radicalised in their blind hatred of Chloe than fucking Mr Astruc, but here we are. I tell you, some people on this exploding planet of ours scare me. Legit.

5. See 2 again. This huge disparity in writing between the two Chloes is getting stupid now, and anyone who can't see the contrast between now and then... I really can't help you. Either take off your Chloe-hating goggles to smell the coffee, or go read someone that agrees with you 100% and won't pop your tiny safe-space bubble with indisputable facts. Goodbye.

6. I think Chloe is more 14... but it doesn't really matter. Still a child, still should be treated as one. Which makes Astruc's obsessive loathing of her even more disturbing... and even more so this dude's.

That's it. This was probably an entirely unnecessary pot-pourri of hot topics I've regurgitated before, but as soon as I saw this article (particularly Pic 4) I just had to jump on my soapbox once more to regale the world about the kind of arrant nonsense I see about Chloe sometimes online, particularly regarding the subject of parental abuse and whether her treatment by the show's narrative was justified (SPOILER: It wasn't, and if you disagree I need you to fuck off RIGHT NOW).

Because if people like me don't defend her and the terrible writing she's been subjected to for the last few seasons (at least she's in good company there though), who will?

Not the person who made her, that's for sure. She may be a fictional character but... I get the feel her situation is similar to a lot of other neglected and mistreated kids out there who lash out at others for obvious reasons. And by handling her arc (if you can even call it that) in this inexcusable way... I don't just think the show has just done her a disservice. I think they've outright destroyed her and the hopes of many others watching.

What a great message to send to every youngster who could relate. I hope the makers are proud of themselves. Fucking idiots.

[jhoneybees]

Hello! I’d like to say that I absolutely love your scenarios, and I was wondering if you could do a scenario of a CG-Elvis, and of a Little-reader in 1976 where he’s feeling self-conscious about his weight, and the reader lost her favourite stuffed Animal and turns to Elvis for help but decides that he was the perfect Teddy Bear, and acts all silly and such? I apologise if I didn’t convey that correctly! Regardless, I hope you have a nice day/night!

Hey!!! I really do apologise for the long wait, this request is so cute and ugh it was honestly the perfect thing to write after a morning of going through writer's block🫶 Thank you for requesting!

We're back with the age regression fics babyyyyyy "It's been a long time, baby...been a long time." Hehe get it?

Teddy bear.

Characters: Late 70s!Elvis X little!reader

Warnings/triggers: Age regression, little!space, lost toy, insecurities, sadness, anger, health problems

Tags: @atleastpleasetelephone @i-r-i-n-a-a @theelvisprincess @thelonelyheart @hooked-on-elvis @polksaladava

_____________________________________________

All this weight. All this extra fat that has been gained. Arms big and bulky, thighs being a pain in the ass on how they rub uncomfortably together and his waist is increasing in size just like the list of health conditions he has. Elvis feels like such a loser.

He can’t keep up with the whole ‘skinny’ image nowadays like he did back in his younger days, it’s just too hard, too tiring and he feels damn awful about how you, his beautiful girl, has to be with such a…big lump of mess.

“I can’t even walk downstairs without being out of breath, goddamnit!” He mutters.

Elvis is just so mad. He’s so upset with himself. It might not be his fault that he has all these problems about his weight and health conditions but he should’ve realized a few years back that maybe he would end up like this in the future and might’ve taken action to avoid it but it’s too late and now he has to struggle.

At least he has you.

“Daddyyy!”

A voice calls out and as Elvis pushes his sunglasses back up the bridge of his nose, he sighs and balances his hand on his thigh to look towards the bedroom door. Breathing out a small smile seeing you stomping loudly with a big pout on your little face. “Have you seen Mr. Roar?”

You ask with a tired huff. Elvis frowns and shakes his head in response, his smile widening at the mention of your little lion toy. “Nawh, I haven’t. Did ya lose him?”

You nod. Quickly padding over to be closer to your daddy, your small hands go to grab his big one. “Can you help me find him?”

Whining when Elvis hesitates. “I’m pretty tired, baby I-”

“Pleaseee?”

He looks at you and when your pout deepens, Elvis eventually caves in and sighs “A’right. I’ll help.” making you giggle and cheer but as he’s getting up from the edge of the shared bed grunting and cringing at the sound of his bones cracking, Elvis notices you freeze. “Baby?” Tilting his head as you stare up at him. His eyes dart around the room in confusion before you suddenly gasp, making him jump. “W-What?”

“Teddy bear!” You exclaim, squealing as you wrap your arms around Elvis’ waist.

“Teddy bear- what?” His eyes widen, asking in utter confusion, holding his arms up when you hug him looking around the bedroom not really knowing what to do, you lift your head with a big grin.

“Daddy’s my teddy!”

His eyes soften as your words sink into his thoughts. “I’m baby’s teddy bear?”

The sound of your happy giggles fills his ears.

“He’s my strong, cuddly Teddy bear!” You scream, squeezing him with all your might and nuzzling your face into his chest, you jump up and down excitedly.

A slight smile grows on Elvis’ face. “I am, huh?”

A kind of smile that shows how deeply he loves you. His little one that always seems to cheer him up when he’s at his worst, times where he feels worthless and lost, a lump of potatoes you always appear, to burn all those feelings with your bright, warm, bubbly personality. Loving him with all the love your little heart can muster that he never asked for, a love that is unconditional.

“Daddy!” You call with an annoyed frown and puckered lips, trying your best to reach his face to give him a kiss but you’re too short.

Elvis chuckles.

Maybe except one thing.

“C’mere.”

[destinationtrekk]

I want a long explanation of Albert's mental state after re5, you know....ummm, I mean, how much does his behavior and actions change? How will he feel about himself? Will he suffer from depression or such disorders? How will be his relationship with the reader?

I hope I didn't bother you ❤️❤️

awh, asks are never a bother!! wi will say I think @nshtn is much better at describing wesker's psyche than me, but my version of post re5!wesker (i call him uroboros!wesker) is different than theirs.

also holy shit this is 1200 words, i don't know what happened

i think immediately after re5, there's no change. physiclly, he's incredibly weak and in near-constant pain as uroboros heals him. you dote on him religiously, desperate to keep him alive as well, and this is what begins his mental shift. it does take a few months, but he slowly comes to realize how much he needs you past his surface level sexual desire and trust in you as a "lackey" basically

not that he never felt affection for you, but he certainly labelled it as something superficial - what one would feel for a pet, perhaps. now that he has nothing to do except sit around and feel sorry for himself and struggle with his feelings toward his own virus in his body, he feelings for you morph quite a bit.

but first, his self-perception. after spending his life comparing himself and those around him to Spencer, he had a serious ego problem and god-complex. he literally calls himself a god in re5, and gods don't lose the game - except he did. i think wesker sees the world as pretty black and white. you're either an asset or an enemy, worthy or a waste, and the only time in his life when this mindset fractured was in stars.

he saw many, many people as an officer who made genuine mistakes that put them in awful situations - criminals who were in the wrong place at the wrong time, and victims who just wanted a way out. he finally had a glimpse of humanity's reality, that regular people had to fight to survive like he did, except they get to be happy when they survive something. he never had that. it was survive or fail, and you don't get to be happy about it when your only other option is to die. i think marcus' death absolutely had to do something to his psyche as well, definitely as a motivator to 'stay on the path paved for you, and be obedient, or bad things will happen."

so in stars he feels conflicted emotions about the reality of his childhood, but they're temporary and quickly get repressed again as his life goes on. they resurface post-re5 because he sees how you interact with others, and he really has nothing else to do except to think about it.

this obsession with analyzing his own upbringing couples rather poorly with his feelings for you, now fully fledged as romantic and devoted. of course, he refuses to say anything. he now believes that he's worthless, a failure, and his life's work has been utterly destroyed. wesker is the kind of person who needs a goal and clear objectives, and without them he feels like he'll drown in his own thoughts. which is exactly what he's doing!

you notice his odd behavior immediately, from the way he refuses compliments that used to make him cocky, and how he rarely (if ever) asks you for anything. you were basically his assistant before, and now he apologizes for even having a harsh tone with you. he can't fathom how you care so deeply for a failure like him, and why you aren't using helping to save his life against him. because that's what people do, right? they take and give and everything has to be a favor that helps you climb to the top.

well, you never actually cared about him being on the top, so you take it upon yourself to confess first. surely he's always known how you felt about him, smirking at your blushing reactions and lusty stares, but he reacts bad when you finally tell him. he thinks this is how you're making him repay for saving his life, by humiliating and debasing him for his romantic attachment to you.

this is a shock to you, because you thought he was moping out of self-pity, not a midlife, self-exploratory bout of depression. it hurts both of your feelings - he thinks you've played him by being kind for something in return, and you're heartbroken that the man you love doesn't trust you anymore.

it takes a while for him to come around. you double down on your affection and explanations, trying to dismantle his fragile mindset piece by piece. he's resistant, somehow convincing himself that he's trapped in some sick mind game that you're manipulating, because he's too thick to just give in. he doesn't know how to accept love or, frankly, get the fuck over himself. yes, he failed. yes, his life's work is kind of ruined. but he has a new lease on life, if he would just accept it.

what finally pulls him out of this spiral is a kiss. you've been pleading with him for days, trying to get him to just talk to you and work this out, because you can't keep living in this emotional hell. he's snippy and rude and exhausted, because he feels the same. he can't bear to be around you anymore, so he tells you to leave him the hell alone. you're in his new office, having switched safe houses a few times until you could finally settle, and this most recent, permanent move is why you've been so upset.

why does he think you're sticking around? he still has access to nearly all of his resources, if he really wanted you gone he could leave without telling you. he's well healed now, except for a few things he'll likely deal with forever, but he's keeping you around. he knows he can't let go of you, but he's still so resistant to everything you're offering.

he's standing hunched over his desk, hands white-knuckling the dark mahogany, broad shoulders and back facing you so he can hide him expression from you. his voice is strained, like he's barely holding himself together while you're openly crying. this is unbearable, but you comply with his wishes.

your last move is to walk closer, your hand lightly settling on his elbow while you press your forehead to his bicep, seeking any tiny sliver of comfort you can find in him. you leave a gentle kiss on his arm, as well as a wet patch of your tears, before you walk away, silent except the heartbreaking sound of your sniffling.

this shatters him. he spends the rest of the day destroying himself, but he vows it's the last time he'll wallow in misery. it takes time, but he slowly begins to open up to you, admitting to his poor mental health and struggles with finding purpose. how he can't fathom your love for him, but he can't fight his own attachment to you either. he cries when you kiss his lips for the first time, but he fails to hide his smile when you pull away.

later in life, years after the devastation that was Kijuju, he's a different man. he's still a little flighty and calculating, but he's fast to comfort and reassure you, expressing himself freely and communicating instead of lashing out or pushing you away. you both still work on...well, everything. your lives have been tragic and painful, especially his own, but he's never felt so secure as he does with you. he truly loves you, and he'll do anything he can to keep himself from ever hurting you again.

[creature-wizard]

So I was going through your tag on radicalization and uh... "women who actually believe men are inherently evil have been radicalized." What if I am a woman and this happened bc of trauma, what do I do to deradicalize?

Also: "if you’re in a social media environment where the daily ubiquitous message is that you have no hope of any kind of future and you can’t possibly achieve anything without a violent overthrow of society, you’re being radicalized, and not in the good way" What... If I may have fallen for this but believe it's true?

(answer anonymously please)

I hope by "answer anonymously" you just mean to respond to your anonymous message, because that's literally the only thing I can do. (And Tumblr doesn't let people un-anon an anonymous message, if that's what you're worried about.)

So, if you're in any kind of toxic space, the main thing is to take whatever steps you can to remove yourself from it. I've written on how to do this over here: "I'm in a bad place and need to get out, what can I do?"

If you're trying to rewrite/overwrite toxic beliefs, you can:

Recognize that you're experiencing a trauma response, and that your brain is trying to keep you safe. Also recognize that trauma responses can lead to hasty generalizations. For example, if someone was afraid that all cats would bite them because they had a bad experience with one cat, we would recognize that this fear is understandable, but also irrational. It's no moral failing if you can't completely get rid of your fear responses. But also, you can't let those fear responses dictate your politics.

Try to think of or look for anything the challenges the belief you're trying to get rid of. Hang out with people, follow accounts, and engage with media that challenges the worldview you're trying to move past.

I think it helps to consider the typical political aims of demonizing an entire group of people. Usually, the purpose is finding an easy scapegoat for society's problems instead of admitting that things are complicated.

Also, consider how being taught that incremental change or small efforts are fundamentally worthless, and only some grand (but functionally impossible) action is worth your effort effectively freezes you in place, which only serves those who are in power.

So yeah, essentially, to deradicalize yourself, you need to remove yourself from spaces and media that encourage unhealthy and unreasonable beliefs, reeducating yourself with something healthy and reasonable, and think critically about the beliefs you're trying to deconstruct.

[neodymiumcuilz]

HELP A FAMILY FROM 🍉🍉 - URGENT CALK TO ACTION

Hello everyone, I am reaching you a about a campaign in desperate need of your donation, I really hope Palestinian lives still matter to you, and I hope you will not ignore this. The suffering in Gaza has not come to a stop, they are still displaced, and deprived of human rights. These are human beings who deserve to live dignified lives, who deserve a guaranteed future, and a home, source of income. They risk health issues and malnutrition daily, due to severe lack of food and health care. Imagine being cold, sick, injured, hungry and longing for a home that no longer is there... that is the reality for many. Some have even resorted to eating GRASS. GRASS. How much more will it take for you to care???

"My name is Motaz, and my wife is Huda. We got married only three months before the war. We dreamed, like any family, of building our own nice little family. We worked 24/7 to make our house with bright colours, decorations and suddenly we lost everything since our first displacement. We saw the flame of fire above our heads. We spent tens of kilometers walking until we found a wall that sheltered us from the cold of winter at that time, and now we are writing the story of our fourth displacement, and we have lost everything. We have lost our happiness, our warm home, and our place. .The hot summer sand and dirty insects have become our companion,and diseases spread everywhere without any hope of mercy. You must know that the cost of living has exceeded, while there is absence of a secure income. Unfortunately, we have completely changed, We are now without any viable water. We dream of crossing the wall of life to live like others a happy life waiting our first baby like any family in this world. We dream of seeing our newborn in front of us growing in a very healthy environment not in the life of war. "

ONLY $255 RAISED!! THAT IS NOT ENOUGH FOR SUSTAINABLE LIVING IN GAZA!!

I hope their lives still matter to you, I hope you will help them with what you can. Your donation means everything, your donation will help provide humanitarian aid and change their lives for the better. Your donation can save lives. Your donation is much more valuable than you think, your donation is never worthless. Your donating genuinely means the world and is greatly appreciated. What you many spend on a coffee or something can really help a family in need.

@gazacitizen is their account, I hope you will stand by them and interact with their account to support them.

[facts-i-just-made-up]

Let's hear all about the history of chess, please!

Chess is an analog live-action computer game or, "game," invented in the year 1212 B.Y.A. by Shatranj Al-Chessinventir. Designed to teach local rulers about warfare and defending their kingdoms, the game simulated a royal court and its pawns with game pieces. The original pieces were as follows:

King: The ruler of the court, if captured, means the end of the game. Mostly a figurehead, he can only move one tile at a time.

Queen: The most capable piece, she does the most work, but capturing her is unimportant because apparently a woman who can do anything is worth far less than a man who can barely move.

Bishop: Like a real bishop, this piece can only move diagonally, and whenever it takes another piece, it must pray for absolution or it will go to Chess Hell or, "Chell," and burn in Chess Fire or, "Chire," for all Chess Eternity or, "Next Round."

Knight: A knight must move in an L shape as per the rules of Tetris, from which the earliest chess games were inspired. The knight is represented by a horse in honor of Mazura of Parapa Palace.

Royal Piss-Bucket Emptier: Now known as the "Rook" due to Victorian prudery, the Royal Piss-Bucket Emptier runs as far as needed in any cardinal direction because the historical job entailed speed and resolute direction.

Pawn: Also known as a "Serf" or "Retail Clerk," the Pawn is expected to die young and be replaced quickly without the royals so much as noticing, so worthless and ordinary is this piece that just wanted to survive and be with their family. Should a pawn make it to the opposite side however, it can become a Queen or any other piece, a lesson designed to teach players that if they betray their family and join the ranks of the enemy, they will be rewarded with fame, fortune, and optional gender fluidity.

Though only about 24 possible games are playable with chess, two less than tic-tac-toe, many books have been written on Chess Theory by lonely people hoping to impress someone with how smart they think they are. This has sadly never worked.

Chess grew popular in America in the 60s and 70s due to the celebrity of chess master Bobby Fischer, but declined soon after when Fischer claimed that Jews were to blame for everything bad, Jews were evil, and he hoped that all the Jews would die. Being Jewish himself, he then died. He was then dug up again (f8=P?) and reburied by order of the Bishop (Bxf8#).

Chess has only recently made a comeback owing to new and interesting chess variants such as 4 Player Bughouse Chess, Three-Man Chess, 5D Chess with Multiverse Time Travel, and Checkers (with chess pieces because I forgot where I put the checkers).

The most interesting thing ever to happen in Chess occurred in 2021 when the Double Bongcloud Position was introduced to top competitions. And that sentence isn't even unreality.

[gallifreyianrosearkytiorsusan]

The Light of Truth

Author's note: More of the Primaris Boys in Husbandry. Thank you to @sleepyfan-blog for letting me borrow Pallius, Cedric & Olivar. Thank you to @c-u-c-koo-4-40k for letting me borrow Khopesh. Thank you to @kit-williams for letting me borrow Ghosk.

Warning: Character death. Characters fighting. Bloodshed. Uh. Let me know if I need to add anything.

Summary: Cedric gets a message. A brother is nearly rescued, another is nearly lost. Petras reveals his true colors to more than just Primaris Marines.

Tagged: @barn-anon, @bleedingichorhearts, @c-u-c-koo-4-40k, @egrets-not-regrets, @kit-williams

Tagged: @sleepyfan-blog, @ms--lobotomy , @thevoidscreams, @i-am-a-dragon34, @gra93fruit-blog

Tagged: @felinisnoctis

Cedric's wrist mounted vox gets a communication ping.

[I am uncertain how much time I have left before I return to the embrace of the Omnissiah.] Castiel sends in his message through agonizing, and coughs blood from his lungs raggedly. There are some spots of blood, mucus and the mechanical fluids used to keep him alive that spatter on his vox. Ugh, despite how much the Mechanicum has enhanced him, he’s still so wretchedly fleshed.

After a few wet ragged coughs Castiel painfully continues, his voice more staticy [but I don't want to die without letting someone know the truth. Embedded in this message is a holo recording of a meeting between Chaplain Mephestil Petras of the Black Templars and a Chaos Marine… as well as his reactions to my queries on the subject. He murdered me. I hope this gets to you. The God Emperor Protects and provides for us all.]

Castiel had also sent the holo recording of Petras going too far in his punishment. When Petras finds and attacks him on Ancient Terra he's able to record some of it, as well as his agonizing cries as he tries to escape, but dies to Petras again. Castiel had managed to have his eyes- which were cybernetic to record Petras’s words and actions- and the recording cuts off after he finishes dying.

He had the message on a delayed sending, hoping that Petras wouldn't notice the vox message. Tied to send when twelve minutes after he flatlined, and he sent coordinates of where he lay dead, or so he hoped. Castiel had wanted to send it to one of his fellow Black Templars primaris Marines.

His last thoughts are Prayers to the Omnissiah that his message will get through to one of them. That Castiel’s death won’t be a waste, that at least someone will have this proof. 

Castiel knew in his hearts that it likely wouldn’t do anything much. Petras has killed Primaris Marines before with only a slap on the wrist. But at least it is something and the First borns will be interested in consorting with Chaos. Even though his life is worthless to them.

~

Cedric reads the written message, his mouth going dry, as a slow-burning fury ignites his hearts once again. He mutes the video, before playing it, as he is currently sitting down in the clinic’s staff cafeteria, and he has little doubt that the sounds of pain and misery will immediately attract the attention of everyone who could hear it.

Two. That’s two, in less than twenty-four hours. While Mattias wasn’t dead, he had been placed in a medically induced coma, to reduce the amount of movement that the young Astartes was capable of doing, as the injury to his spinal column could be operated on and treated, but was very delicate and any movements could potentially permanently render his legs unusable without spinal prosthetics or other augments that would be incredibly difficult to acquire on Ancient and Holy Terra. 

He knows that Anrir and the other Night Lords are incredibly dangerous. Its just for some reason they have decided to drag him protectively under their bat wings, rather than tear him to shreds with their talons. For now at least.

Claude and Khopesh are away from where Ghosk and the others are setting the stage for the ‘fight’ between ‘raven guard’ Anrir (or whatever name he’ll be using) and the Claw will ‘attack’ him.

Claude and Khopesh watch through binoculars as the staged fight happens- and Captain Kasz Kalleran takes the bait and falls for the trap, hook, line and sinker. His Captain did enjoy it when he could be painted as the hero of the stories he tells, regardless of the truth of the matter.

The Claw gets ‘chased off’ by the flock of Ravens who surround the wounded ‘bird’ and help patch him up. Claude closes his eyes and takes in a deep breath. Anrir is far older than he is, and knows what he’s doing. Had chosen to do this- had planned for contingencies and decided on this course of action.

Claude is distracted by a vox text message he gets from Cedric and reads it with a concerned frown on his face.  [You wanted to talk? I’m on lunch break right now. Get Ramiel. This is urgent.]

He sent a message to Claude via vox. [You wanted to talk? I’m on lunch break right now. Get Ramiel. This is urgent.]

[On my way.] Claude responds. [Where do you want to meet?]

Claude frowns, concern churning in his gut as he sends a message to Ramiel about Cedric’s request. Ramiel responds immediately to his message and sends one to Cedric as well.

“I have to go- Cedric needs my help with something,” Claude informs Khopesh.

“Have fun with that,” Khopesh says, “I’ll check on the others, see how they are doing after the ‘fight’ with the Raven Guards.”

Claude nods, “sounds good.”

[The park nearest to The Clinic. We should be able to talk freely there.] Cedric texted both Ramiel and Claude. 

While he waited for them to respond, he walked over to where Olivar was currently sitting, scowling into the bowl of food in front of him. “You know it’s not going to leap out at you and try to murder you. What’s on your mind?”

“You told me that He is on Ancient Terra, too, right? Why the fuck were we sent here, back into his reach? Unless He is from before He started…” Olivar swallowed hard, a low, wordless growl leaving him. “Should we be keeping what The Bastard has done to us a secret? Your mentor did not tolerate his grox-shite, at least when it came to you, no matter what The Shithead said you did, or didn’t do. Surely there’s got to be at least one Firstborn marine you can talk to about all of this shit.”

“... There are a couple I’ve told some of what’s happened to. In M42. They kind of bullied me into telling them, but given what they’re like, I really should have realized that they were going to do so, sooner or later. Do you remember what I told you about Bruders Roland and Arnault?” Cedric asked, rocking back on his heels a little. 

“... Yeah… One’s a battle brother,” Olivar says, “The other’s an Emperor’s Champion… something about Bonding? Bonded?”

“... Trust me, the Bonding and Bonded conversation is for when you are better healed and we aren’t doing emergency scrambling. But I think… If you, Ramiel  and Pallius agree… I think I might ask both of them to help me lodge a formal complaint against Petras, to get some kind of official record as to the grox-shite and cruelty he is capable of being known publicly.”

“That sounds vaguely ominous Ced,” Olivar says, his scowl shifting a little. He scoffs a little, “didn’t we try that before and were told ‘stop being whiny little bitch and take the ‘character building’ lumps and suck it up?’ Why would that change since we’re here?”

“Bonds are wonderful things, I promise! From what I’ve seen, they are good. Also, that was by other firstborn brothers in M42. I told them that Petras killed a dozen primaris marines in M42 and that both of them immediately swore to kill him. I entirely believe that they meant that, too.”

“I mean… you are lovable Ced,” Olivar says slightly teasingly, “And Apothecaries are hard to come by. Of course they want to protect you.”

Cedric huffed a little and shook his head “I don’t think it’s just because I’m an Apothecary. They were furious at the thought of younger brothers being killed for existing. Not that I’m advocating for Chaplain Petras to die, just to… To be brought before a tribunal and made to answer for his crimes.” 

By the god-emperor, does the wounded fury and sorrow howling in his hearts want Petras dead. Not just dead, but killed slowly, painfully. To have the fucker be made to beg and plead for mercy, for an ounce of compassion and be shown exactly as much as he gave Cedric’s Brothers. 

None. 

But that path led towards falling to Khorne, or perhaps Slaanesh, depending on the way he went about it. So formal sanctioning it was. For his own safety, and the safety of others.

“I wonder how Justice and punishment are delivered on Ancient Terra? I think that’s something we should find out, before we do anything or say anything.” Olivar scratches his cheek, “hm… let me think on it. Unless the Bastard does something… Bad here.”

“He’s killed a Primaris Tech marine. I just received Castiel’s dying vox-messages and video-footage of his murder.” Cedric answered, shaking his head a little. “Mattias - another Primaris Marine, is currently under anesthesia and in surgery because of the complications from Petras beating the fuck out of him yesterday.”

“Fucking bastard, you have convinced me, I’ll talk to who ever it is about his discipline and punishment methods.” Olivar hisses, “I remember Cassie- quiet, dutiful and always helped with weapons and armor maintenance. He was so happy to be chosen as a Tech Marine. He loved to talk about a certain kind of cog wheel.”

Cedric nodded, saying “I’m going to check in with Pallius first, then Ramiel. To see how they both feel about going forwards with what we know of petras’ crimes. I will be taking point on this. As the Apothecary of the group… And the one who survived longest in M42 before being sent to Ancient Terra, this is my duty and my burden.” With that he nodded, standing up and heading over to where Pallius was sitting and eating lunch.

~

“Pallius, I’ve run this by Olivar, and I have his vote. I won’t reveal it to you as I don’t want to influence your decision either way. But I… I am asking if you want me to come forward to certain firstborn marines - Brothers Roland and Arnault of the Black Templars, and Captain Ash’val for certain about what Chaplain Petras has done to us. He’s killed at least one Primaris Marine on Ancient Terra. He’s badly wounded Mattias, who is currently in surgery.” Cedric explained, his voice low and quick he gave the other a brief summary of what Castiel had sent to him.

“... If our words and scars can help keep others safe,” Pallius says quietly, “then… then I shall speak of the shameful things.”

“It’s not your shame, what he had done to you, Pallius. It is his. Please, you must remember this.” Cedric urged his brother, his hearts caught in the back of his throat. 

Pallius ducks his head a little at the others words as his eyes become wet and he rubs the grit from his eyes. “I… I’ll try to.”

“Thank you, Pallius. You have Dorn’s own courage.” Cedric murmured, gently pressing his forehead to Pallius’, as an affectionate gesture.

“Keep safe Ced,” Pallius says, closing his eyes and leaning into  Cedric a little, returning the gesture as much as he can. “... You have Dorn’s own courage as well Brother.”

Cedric nodded, walking out of the cafeteria as he read up on what had been sent to his wrist-mounted vox, mind whirling. 

[I got the message from Claude. I’ll be at the park in seven minutes. Do I need to get Catius or Oleandros? Or have them run a Distraction?] Ramiel sends Cedric a text vox message, adding another statement. [Eta five minutes, told Chaplain Bo’shan I was taking my lunch break. He seemed happy about that.]

[I will be there in five minutes.] Claude says a thought occurs to him and he asks [Do you want me to get Jophi?]

[... I  don’t want to involve all of the others just as of yet. Any more of this, and I request that we please speak in person. Neither of you are in trouble.] Cedric vox-texted back, making sure to send the last sentence, so as to not worry them too much. He hoped.

[Wilco.] Ramiel replies. He is worried- just what is going on? He wonders what Cedric has found out or wants to discuss. 

He had to go by Reclusiarch Feldarim’s office to get to where he was going- the other watched him go with a casual glance. But as he didn’t seem too upset, the other let him pass without harassing him. Which gives him a sense of relief, as Chaplain Bo’shan had lightly pressed him for details, and he’d said that he was meeting up with Cedric and Claude for lunch.

He’s able to excuse himself and grabs something to eat. And then ensures to grab enough for Claude and Cedric. Both of them are terrible at remembering to eat. He also grabs some of the homemade ice cream as a sweet treat, just in case the conversation needs such a thing.

Claude replies [Understood- I also have some… interesting information on Justice and Punishment that The Night Lords talked about for Ancient Terra and the Alliance.]

[Good, I have questions about that, which will help in deciding in which way things will go. Whether we go the official route, or take care of trash on our own.] Cedric texted back.

~

He must have one hell of a scowl on his face, because the baseline humans who he passes by all scramble to get the hell out of his way. While normally this would make him feel guilty, especially as the baselines who live on the base are either bonded to one of the marines who lives on base… Or they have nowhere else to live and they work jobs on base in order to pay in kind for housing and food. 

Zariel had heard the whispers and more loud complaints and worried about Fierce Angry Scowling Astarte in black and white scrubs. So he had sent a message to Ash’val, Feldarim, and after a moment’s hesitation, to Hura. Just in case.

“Cedric,” Zariel calls out carefully, “... You know I am here for you, if you need or want to talk about something that’s bothering you. If you want to talk.”

“... I acknowledge this. However, I need to speak with a couple of others. We will decide a few things and then figure out who to reach out to. You are, I will say, on the short list for the… Issue that needs handling.” Cedric responded, falling back on formal wording in order to hopefully get the teal Ultramarine to back off a little. He didn’t have the time to try and shake off a Teal tail. 

“Very well,” Zariel says with a nod, watching the younger Astarte move. “I am honored to have such trust.”

He decides that it would be best not to press him too much. After all- he didn’t want to rile the other and send him into hiding again. The fact that young Claude had managed to teach a Black Templar how to be stealthy and good at it had been… more than a little distressing… As impressed as he’d been after his hearts had stopped feeling like they were going to burst from stress.

Cedric nods brusquely before marching the rest of the way out of the base, still scowling and not in the least bit attempting to hide his expression in the least. 

Zariel also rolls a thought or two in his head. Whatever it was that Cedric had told Roland and Arnault had made the two older Black Templars exceedingly angry.  So he was going to wait before sending a message to the older ones about this… Newest thing.

~

Cedric spotted Ramiel and Claude in one of their favorite spots in the nearby park. The brief stretch of his legs, and outside did help him calm down slightly, though his nerves - and his fury - were still jangling just beneath the surface of his skin. He waved over at the two of them, attempting to smile “Hey… Claude, Ramiel.”

Claude had helped Ramiel set up the basket of food, a blend of baseline human and Astarte food and drinks. They had set it up on one of the wooden benches that was rated for Astartes to sit on safely with the table neatly set out, with a picnic cover neatly tucked around to keep things a bit cleaner.

“Hey Cedric,” Ramiel says, “I thought since it was about lunch time, and you had a Conversation to speak with us, a picnic would help the Look of things. Regardless of what is spoken about.”

“Nice to see you Ced,” Claude says with a grin.

Claude heads to the area specified by Cedric and helps Ramiel set up the picnic that the other had decided to grab. It was a good cover- and they’d get to eat something while they talk about the Urgent matter.

At least on the outset it would look like the three of them were enjoying lunch and a picnic, which would have curious eyes not think anything Suspicious is going on. Not that he thinks that Cedric is doing anything particularly troubling. But it helps throw off any potential watchers, just in case.

 Claude wonders if the Claw is encouraging his paranoia and suspicious tendencies before shaking his head a little and greeting Cedric. He sees the thunderous scowl on the other’s face and suspects that whatever he’s going to say is not going to be great.

He’s proven right as he listens, upset at what Cedric has learned. He goes over the details of what he remembers of the conversation with Khopesh about Justice and Punishments. Ramiel and Cedric agree to speak with Khopesh in public and he sends another message and Khopesh arrives swiftly.

“... A picnic does sound good.” Cedric relented, plopping down next to his Brother, leaning into his familiar warmth. He looked at the spread of food and drinks, deliberately focusing on what he could smell and see before him, in a desperate attempt to calm down, at least a little. 

Ramiel hums one of the prayer hymns that he knows helps Cedric calm down, Claude slowly reaching out and holding one of the Apothecary Apprentic’s hands and lightly squeezing it. Claude joins in on the song, humming the chorus and harmonizing with them, the words whispered in High Gothic.

He hummed along to the hymn, allowing the calming focus to come over him. Anger had it’s place on the battlefield, but too much of it was dangerous. Not only to oneself, but to everyone around the one lost to fury. He squeezed Claude’s hand back gently, managing a rueful smile “I have bad news, worse news, questions, and a proposal, contingent upon the answer to those questions. What do you want to hear first?”

“What’s the worst news?” Claude and Ramiel ask at the same time, bracing themselves.

Claude looks around them glancing at his brothers as he takes some of the bread and spreads jame and nut butter on bread- as well as sprinkling some Astarte nutri-paste and cutting it into thirds for the three of them to eat. 

Claude cast his senses, Warp-related and not to ensure that they weren’t being listened to. Glad that no one was, either through technology or warpy senses he lets go of his crackling humming power and focuses on Cedric’s words. He takes a bite of food to keep the spots of darkness out of his vision.

“Tech-Marine Castiel of the Black Templars was killed earlier today, at the hands of Chaplain Captain Petras. When Tech Marine Castiel became aware that he was going to die, as there was no one to intercede on his behalf, he sent me all of the information he had on the chaplain in question, sending it on a delay to hopefully not arouse suspicion from his murderer.” Cedric revealed, doing his best to keep his voice a low, emotionless monotone. He failed spectacularly, as his voice cracked. He paused, taking a sip from one of the glasses of lemonade before continuing “Brother Mattias of the Black Templars is currently in surgery due to the complications from the beating he received, allegedly from Chaplain Petras, according to the Hydra who brought him into the clinic late last night.”  

“God Emperor curse him,” Ramiel swears softly, before flinching as he realizes the words that had come out of his mouth. “He’s… Perhaps not escalating, but he’s continuing to do what he did back in M42.”

“... He knows he died for Challenging the High Marshal,” Claude says with a frown, his eyes flashing teal as he thinks “... For killing and purging Primaris… and he’s…doing it here when Astartes number far fewer. He’s … not likely to change his ways.”

“Ramiel, I have asked Pallius and Olivar, but I will with-hold their votes until you tell me what you want to do. Should we come forward to certain firstborn marines, and tell them about what Petras has done, both in M42, and on Ancient Terra, or would you rather we handle this ourselves?” Cedric asked, his voice shaking a little, but stubborn ferocity beat in his chest. He would deal with this fucker, one way or the other.

Ramiel reaches over- carefully telegraphing his movements as he gives his brother a side hug. Claude is on Cedric’s other side and does the same thing. The three of them gently hugged each other for a moment. Ramiel gathers his thoughts, which is hard because they keep scattering in a thousand-thousand different directions as he thinks over the other’s words. 

“I think,” Ramiel says, his voice cracking a little, he coughs and then takes a sip of the lemonade laced with hydration rations, “I think, we should go to the First borns, see what they do… if it’s … unsatisfactory …. We can… handle him after the fact.”

Cedric side-hugs Ramiel back, trembling a little with the force of the emotions running rampant within him. He focuses on Claude “You mentioned that the Night Lords spoke of how Astartes dealt Justice in this time period? Please explain to the best of your abilities. Your answers will help me decide whether or not I will come forward with the information to whoever I’m supposed to in an official capacity… Or if I just ask Arnault and Roland if he would please help me murder a bastard. They are both already aware of Petras’ crimes in M42 and swore to kill him.” Their vehement and immediate declarations of Murder had been… Cedric swallowed a little. They had been more gratifying than the young Apothecary had wanted to admit.

“So Khopesh and the Claw of Night Lords knows about why certain… First Born Brothers in M42 don’t like us… And they find that reasoning stupid, foolish and wasteful. Claude nods, “That- actually is one method of Justice that the rest of the chapter’s can’t mess with. Justice for crimes done, unless it’s inter-chapter stuff, or there is a request to intercede on the behalf of the victims, is done in-chapter. Unless their crimes are bad enough that an Example needs to be made.”

Claude gathers his thoughts and pulls out the data slate and reads the notes he’d taken, the conversation that he had with Khopesh. He hands the data slate over so they can read about Hunting- and how the worst of the Astarte criminals, like serial killers, are handed over to the Night Lords, which is one of the worst punishments that can happen to a person. How the Hunt is declared- what happens during it, and after.

“There is a precedent,” Claude says, licking his lips a little, “where if an Astarte is killing other Astarte- that their Chapter, at first are the ones to handle them, but if for whatever reason they can’t or won’t… They tend to be handed over to the Night Lords. I… uh… asked some Questions- and Khopesh seemed… excited about the idea of a Hunt. I think… no, I know he reported the conversation we had about Justice and Punishment to the Claw Leader- Anrir, who’s an Apothecary- who’s older than Hura.”

“... Petras wasn’t the only one killing Primaris Marines in M42. Nor was he the only Firstborn Black Templar to be doing so.” Cedric murmured, his voice low and quiet. “As much as I want… As much as I want to raise bolter and blade against the fucker myself, alongside whoever else wants to kill him. I don’t… I don’t think that simply killing Petras will ensure long-term protection of our fellow Primaris Marines. I will ask Arnault and Roland their opinions on this… But…”

“There are other punishments,” Claude says, “They talked about.. Flaying… among other things. Some. Very graphic descriptions that I won’t go into detail about right now, as well as having the people who were hurt by the person, to either participate in the person’s punishment actively, or have a hand in deciding how they are punished. There is, unfortunately, a need to gather evidence and proof of crimes more than verbal witness evidence.”

“Would the recorded audio-visual recordings of a now-murdered marine be enough evidence?” Cedric asked bluntly. 

“... Will you allow me to ask Khopesh that?” Claude says, “I think so- but I’d need his opinion, he’s been here longer, and knows more about Justice and the legal framework that the Astartes have developed here.”

Cedric nodded “Go for it. You’re the one with contact with him.”

Claude sends Khopesh a vox text [Please don't run to Anrir or the others about this quite yet. But hypothetically, if Ced- er someone had Audio/visual proof about Cas- er I mean, someone else, HYPOTHETICALLY being murdered by Pet- er a third someone else, that is currently,  hypothetically on Ancient Terra right now, and has a history of murdering primaris marines, what would happen? And this person that hypothetically nearly murdered Mat- I mean someone else as well.]

Khopesh hears a pinging noise and looks down at his vox, he can’t stop the grin that grows on his face and thinks to himself, ‘Bingo!’

“You seem pleased, something good?” Ghosk notes, lightly pressing the younger member of the Claw for more information if the other wanted to share.

“... Not yet- but soon. Hopefully.” Khopesh says. He’s not going to tell Anrir or the other members of the Claw yet. Per Claude’s request, for now. But finally. He’s glad that Claude is finally trusting them, or at least him more. 

“Alright,” Ghosk replies with a nod. “Keep in mind we can only back you up if we know what’s going on.”

“Yes Ghosk,” Khopesh says with a nod. He does send a message back to Claude. [A Primaris Killer- or an Astarte killer, like the one you texted me about would be setting himself up for execution. Especially if he has a heinous list of crimes and it’s clear that he’s not stopping.]

Claude responds swiftly to the message [Thank you for the information.]

Khopesh sends another message to Claude that [you all can argue for the Primaris killer being an ongoing and unremorseful threat. So they can Hopefully get the maximum punishment of execution by Night Lords. Or depending on the Chapter preferred executioners.]

[Thank you for that- so far as we know, he’s only gone after Black Templars.] Claude responds. [Knowing him… he might escalate to other Primaris if he comes across them. He’s got a nasty temper.]

[But even without that. The chapter the murderer is a part of would be Heavily pressured to either remove their own bad actor, or turn him over so he can be removed.]  Khopesh sends the message to Claude, and he is getting excited.

Khopesh is excited that Claude trusts them more, And that he'll soon be able to talk to Anrir and the others about getting a proper Hunt going. Ghosk waved at the younger Night Lord as he watched the younger one leave, wondering what was going on.

But patience...Patience! Like Anrir always says. He feels like he's vibrating- and is glad that he moved out of where the rest of the Claw are- because they would see the expression on his face and demand to see his communicator to know what’s going on.

A thought suddenly strikes Khopesh and the excitement dims a little and he sends another message- a very Anrir thought as he remembers watching the older Night Lord work and talk to others and sends another message, [I won't tell Anrir without your permission....But I also don't want you and your brothers to be in active danger. I have enough on my rotted conscience, so if things get bad. Please don't make me live with staying quiet. For however terrifying he might be. Anrir wants to help you, Claude. We all do. But we can't Do that unless you Tell us what we need to know. Information Is Warfare isn't it?]

Khopesh hopes he isn’t pushing Claude too much, but this is need to know information, and the fact that the youngest member of his Claw was talking about things in more specific detail was Important. Especially with that fucking bastard of a Raven Captain- that they are helping him handle as well.

[Could you send me a copy of the evidence that you and your brother-cousins have?] Khopesh sends, [The evidence that can be submitted to the Alliance, it will help clinch the Hunt to being declared.]

Khopesh has an excited blood thirsty expression on his face- and he is moving around pacing back and forth. He’s so tempted to try and find out where Claude is to rush over and talk, and see if he can get more answers out of him and the other Primaris Marines.

His excitement cools down and he shakes his head as he rereads one of the messages, [wait- no, if the message gets intercepted, they’d need a backup of it to show the Alliance.]

[Cedric and Ramiel say they want to talk with you in person.] Claude sends, [we are at the park nearby the Loyalist base on Cherry lane and main street. Could you come by and speak with us? Things… might be escalating.]

[I’ll be there as soon as I can] Khopesh responds and tries not to run to where Claude and the others are. He’s. really excited. The Primaris Marines are trusting them with this! And they- hopefully will help get the Primaris Marines to have Justice prevail and have a Hunt. It has been so long since they have been able to Hunt.

Khopesh tries to calm down and sees the way that Claude, Cedric, and Ramiel are sitting around a table, there is a quaint looking picnic- clever, make a serious meeting look like something more innocent, clever, clever boys. After the explanation they give, the video is shown and he watches it in full.

"You have footage of one of your battle brothers murders? Fantastic!” Khopesh says.

Cedric stills for a moment. The sheer visceral excitement radiating off of the Night Lord is off-putting to say the least. He briefly glances at Claude. What the fuck? He thinks particularly loudly at his witch-adjacent Brother-cousin. “... I find the joy you show in the death of another marine to be… Unsettling.”

Ramiel’s jaw clenches and blue eyes spark with rage and his hands clenched into fists and Claude jumps in before either of his cousins could smack the crap out of Khopesh, “ the translation "I'm excited we'll soon get to avenge your fallen and deliver Justice!" Not I’m happy your brother is dead.”

Claude very much understands what the former sounds like, and it had been shocking to hear such things, but he had learned how to understand Night Lords and the way they speak. He especially knows Khopesh better, having interacted with him a lot more than his brother-cousins, to keep them from getting too mad at the First Born Night Lord.

Khopesh calms down a little, realizing how callous that sounded, especially since this person is a threat- likely to them personally, as well as to others and apologies, “Sorry- that came out wrong. It really sucks that your brother is dead. I’m excited to be able to help you with this mess. That video- it’s Key Evidence in getting your tormentor put down, or whatever punishment you think is best.”

Cedric pauses for a moment before sending a copy of Castiel's dying video to the Night Lord. “Here is what he sent me. He timed it so hopefully his murderer wouldn't realize he was being recorded. Given the fact that Petras beat another Primaris marine to the point Mattias is currently in surgery now… The Chaplain must be nearby.”

Khopesh is a mixture of emotions, and his trembling a little as he tucks his hands behind his back as his hands clenched into fists. He’s a mixture of Excitement and Rage. How dare that bastard, Petras, go after the Primaris. 

Claude asks him, “What do you think of it?”

"I'm thinking I'd start with flaying Just the fingers! Then I'd yank the phalanges out one by one, on the right hand.” Khopesh starts, “For the left I'd Act like I was going to do the same, then snap the arm and force him to Bite Off his own fingers so the hands would Match-"

Part of Cedric was mildly Disgusted by Khopesh starting to explain what he would do to The bastard. The rest of him wanted to let the deranged Night Lord continue.

"About this Video as Evidence! Khopesh! How is the quality of the evidence!?" Ramiel interrupts.

"Oh right! Sorry...like I said it's fantastic as evidence. It clearly shows the perpetrator, goes decently in depth about his crimes, includes the bastards own fucking vileness on display and though it may sound tactless. Your deceased brother's testimony is something the Alliance will not be able to ignore. It may seem... disingenuous, but the pain and outrage you feel should be Used. It will show the tribunal that these crimes Must be Answered for, Your brother's lives not spent in Vain!" Khopesh says his eyes blazing with emotion and passion. "You never should have had to seek out this justice. Your elder brothers should have taken you beneath their wings, Like Anrir did for us!"

Cedric shifted a little, feeling the need to defend the firstborn Templar brothers who actually gave a damn about him and his Brothers. “A couple of our older Brothers have taken us in. Arnault and Roland have done their best to care for and protect us. As soon as they became peripherally aware of a threat to us that we hadn't told them about they would try and press for explanations. When… I told them earlier this week about Petras when Mattias was first brought in for treatment. They intended to kill the Chaplain, and said as much.” 

Khopesh paces around the table, prowling as he continues his rant, this explains why Claude and the others could be so stars- damned jumpy. Why Claude was so slow to trust- slow to allow himself Anrir and the other’s protections. 

Afraid of what being put under the protection of an older brother means accepting they have some power over you- and seeing and hearing that his cousins were murdered by shit head- and Claude and others getting beaten… yeah no. He’d be reluctant to give up any freedoms, even if it would help in some ways.

"But that's not the path this...Petras bastard chose. He Chose and by the looks of it continues to Choose to harm his own Battle Brothers, and worst! Those He should be responsible for." Khopesh says. "He is the worst type of Predatory, Vile, Rotten Bastard! And he Deserves to answer for his crimes. Your brothers, your fallen, deserve to have him Answer for his crimes."

"Let Us help you present this evidence Claude. Let the Claw help you and your brothers..." Khopesh doesn't use Your Claw as he feels it might push too hard and cause Claude to retreat. 

Instead Khopesh uses The Claw, still implying that Claude is a part of it, but leaving it up to interpretation. Avoiding Our Claw or My Claw as those could distinctly put Claude outside it, which is not true, and he doesn’t want to have Claude feel alienated, fuck the poor kid has had that done to him back in M42, him and his brothers.

Cedric, Ramiel, and Claude get an urgent text vox message from Jophiel it reads  [I’ve got a wounded Black Templar Primaris Marine. Near the stone outcropping two hours in the forest west of Gannet point. I’m stalling Petras- the fucker is Insane. Please help. Or send help. He’s threatening to kill me and Sariel. He knows about the Alliance rules, he just doesn’t fucking care.]

Cedric stood up, and swore under his breath, looking at Khopesh. “While you’re not the firstborn Brother who I’d choose to ask for help, you’re already here and I don’t know how long we have before the situation gets worse. We just received a call for help from Jophiel, a Primaris marine. He’s trying to keep another Primaris Marine alive and is facing Petras without help. We need Petras restrained now. If you mean your words, come and help us.” With that, Cedric took off at his top speed towards where Jophiel had pinged his location, texting back [I am coming! Delay him as long as you can!]

[I will do my best.] Jophiel responds.

He then messaged Arnault and Roland at the same time [Petras is attacking someone at this location. If you are able and willing, please help me keep him from murdering more Primaris marines.]

He gets an immediate response from both Arnault and Roland. Roland answered first. [On my way.]

Arnault answered [Will be there soon. Stay safe and be smart.]

His hearts drop to his stomach when he sees Jophiel on the ground, wings broken, and Petras standing over him. A Crusade of Black Templars and a dead Primaris Black Templar.

"You bastard!" Claude hears Cedric hiss as he chases after his charging Black Templar Brother cousins.

The closer they get to Petras and his Crusade, Cedric suddenly drops to Jophie's side- realizing the other is alive. "Why did you drug him? Break his wings?"

"He went mad," Petras says, "And he killed the Primaris Black Templar."

"LIAR!" Claude hears Cedric bellow. "Jophie is many things a brother killer, he is not."

"His blade is bloodied, and killed the Black Templar," Petras counteracts, telling the truth.

Khopesh has approached Jophiel and is messing with the younger Space Marine's helmet and lets out a dark chuckle and says, "You fool- Jophiel was recording the conversation he had with you."

"... what?" Petras says, sounding caught off guard.

Khopesh gives him a cruel smile and flips the helmet and projects the truth of the matter- Jophiel confronting Petras- who reveals his true cruelty.

How Jophiel tried to escape Petras at first- and only fought him after he'd broken his wings and made it so that escape wasn't likely. How Petras was the one to kill the Primaris Marine- using Jophiel's own weapon.

The looks of shock and horror and disappointment and disgust on the faces of Petras's Crusade have them circling around Petras- rather than trying to defend him.

Petras scowls, realizing that the jig is up and he taunts, "So- you know I have killed two of your disgusting Abominations."

"We are not abominations," Ramiel says tremulously, shaking, terrified, but wanting to stand against the bastard that murdered him in M42. "You are- you m-murdered me and a dozen of our brothers in M42- and have killed at least two of us here!"

Cedric moves closer to Ramiel, standing so that he is half in front of his terrified Brother, his eyes narrowing dangerously as he glowers at Petras. 

"Ah, so you have only found two of my victims," Petras taunts. "The souls of my other victims will never know peace because the location of their bodies will die with me."

"Who says that we will kill you here and now?" Khopesh says slyly, "After all- death is what you will get, but oh- how you should suffer before you die!"

[k-popanimeotomeandyanderes]

Yandere!Nagito x ftm!reader

Content: closeted reader (only Nagito knows), brief mentions of dysphoria, and also really self-indulgent

1.2k words

You had come to a realization about your gender a few years ago, but you kept it hidden from everyone around you. It's not that you thought they wouldn't be supportive. Some of your friends were trans too, but you just didn't know how to come out yet. As far as you knew, no one knew you were a man, so it was surprising when you started getting love notes that referred to you as things like “handsome” or “pretty boy.” You didn't mind, of course, far from it, but they couldn't have been meant for you… could they? How would anyone know to call you those things? You couldn't help but stress about it. Maybe you'd accidentally outed yourself, or someone was making fun of you.

You started out ignoring it, but the love letters got more frequent and more concerning. What started out as some nice compliments and a bit of gay desperation had turned into the mystery author degrading himself and obsessing over you. You started getting gifts too, your favorite flowers or items you'd been eying. The situation had reached a point where you had to do something, so you wrote a note back.

Since you had no idea who this man was or how to reach him, you decided to just leave the letter in your house, since he was probably breaking in anyway. The sealed letter to your maybe stalker sat on your dresser for just long enough to make you question all your decisions. You were probably just being paranoid. No one would ever break in to take a letter. Sometimes paranoia pays off, though, because the next time you checked, the letter was gone and replaced with a return letter from your stalker.

You were understandably terrified to read this new letter. Not only were the “normal” love letters concerning enough, but you'd actually confronted this guy about his actions and practically demanded to know who he was and why he knew you were trans. Despite your fear, you opened the letter and began to read.

“My dear (preferred name),

I'm unbelievably flattered to receive your attention. All of my love for you was given without the expectation of reciprocation, but now that I know you feel the same, I'm happier than I could ever imagine. Trash like me may not deserve your shining hope, but I can't stop myself from being selfish and choosing you regardless. As for who I am, I am Nagito Komaeda, the ultimate lucky student. Although my talent and general existence are both completely worthless, I do have one skill, which is observing you. You call me your “stalker,” which I can't deny. You're the perfect man, a beacon of hope for all of us peasants. I can't help but be attracted to everything you do. I adore every part of you. I doubt you are surprised that I learned such details about you, like your gender, from my observations. Fear not, darling. I accept you no matter what and you have always been a man in my eyes, even if that is not what you see in the mirror or if your negative thoughts tell you otherwise.

I understand that this situation may be overwhelming and that I have no right to ask anything of you. I am selfish. I can't keep away from you. I need to have you. I want you to be my boyfriend and to love me just as deeply as I love you. I know someone like me doesn't deserve your love or your kindness, but I need you. I need you so badly. I need your everything. If you even consider a relationship at all, please let me know. I would do anything for you, my beloved.

With love,

Nagito”

How were you supposed to feel about any of this? This man had stalked you and any positive feelings you had for him were probably just because he was the only one in your life who saw you as a man. Despite that, the idea of someone wanting you so much was enticing. He probably had some issues, but… you could totally fix him. Or not. Maybe not fixing him would be better anyway. You'd never had a boyfriend who truly saw you for who you were before, so why not give this a shot? You pushed aside all the red flags and started to draft a return letter.

A week and two letters later, you finally get the chance to meet your new boyfriend, Nagito Komaeda. You decided to meet in a public setting. It felt too weird for your first date to just be in your house. Dwelling on the whole stalking and breaking in thing wasn't very pleasant. You weren't sure what to look for. You'd never seen this man before in your life. You desperately hoped he wasn't a creepy old man or extremely hideous. Were those shallow things to be thinking of while meeting your new stalker boyfriend for the first time? Maybe. The next moment you look up, hoping to find a distraction, you see a man standing disturbingly close to you. He hadn't said anything, but he was definitely staring.

“You're quite close,” You whisper under your breath, almost hoping he won't hear.

“I'm so sorry, darling. I didn't mean to startle you. I'm just too used to avoiding your attention. Sorry. Trash like me shouldn't be—” You cut him off.

“It's fine, don't worry about it. So… I'm guessing you're Nagito.” You don't have much to talk about with him. He spends most of the rest of your date rambling about how perfect you are or how awful he is. He is pretty nice, at least. His white hair and sickly pale skin make him sort of attractive in a pathetic wet cat way as well. He's almost your type. There's a natural lull in your conversation. Nagito hesitates for a moment.

“(Preferred name)... are you uncomfortable?” He asks softly.

“No, not really. It's just new to me to be with a man as a man, I guess among… other things about our relationship.”

“But, you are interested in men, aren't you?” You shift a bit in your seat before answering. “Yeah. It's just my gender.”

“You've never been with someone who knew you're trans then? No gay dates before?” He seemed genuinely curious as he asked.

“Nope. Not a single gay date. Well, definitely none that knew it was gay, I guess? Maybe some secretly gay stuff?” You were basically rambling like Nagito had been before.

“I see. No wonder you're so nervous. Don't be. It's okay to be gay.” Did he really think that was the main issue? It was one small issue. Sure, being trans wasn't something you'd been this open about before, but dating your stalker was way worse than being a little homosexual.

“We can go at your pace,” Nagito adds. It's sweet that he cares about that even though he's totally violated plenty of boundaries already.

“Thanks for that, and thanks for being my first gay boyfriend.” You can't help smiling. Your date–your boyfriend—might be awkward and a criminal who broke into your house repeatedly, but he wasn't so bad. He was trying.

[kpopscruggles]

had to write something, its like 1200 words ngl.

was also foaming at the mouth writing this.

To say that getting ready for this date was stressful as is, but knowing I was going to the fanciest restaurant in the city because he refused to just fuck me really made this more weighted on my shoulders. He was a nice guy, on call his voice was smooth, even the simple kiss he gave through the speaker before he would hang up. Facetime he always had a sweet smile as he sat on his bed or couch, drinking the simple glass of Jack because he refused to let the money steal him from his favorite whiskey. The simple chain he wore around his neck, the silver clashing with the warm tone of his semi tan skin. He was a full course meal is what he was. 

Walking into the restaurant a soothing wave hit me in the aura of the dimly lit room. “You made it, sorry I couldn’t come and grab you...” I turned immediately after hearing the voice. A small smile still on his face as his hand reached to hold mine before giving it a small kiss. Treating my hand as if it was so delicate it would just shatter. “Hope the drive here wasn’t dreadful for you”. 

“Easily not.” I assured myself before smiling “I mean c'mon Jay, I told you with everything you're doing I wouldn’t mind at least driving myself here. He smiled before telling the host his last name, meanwhile I was busy staring at him, the dress shirt slightly showing his collarbone, the dress pants that were hugging him a little around his hips and crotch. He was packing, I knew it. I just knew he could fuck me so good...make me a drooling mess. Make me a slut, his slut.  

The dinner went well, the wine easily hitting me though as I now couldn’t even hold a conversation without giving him the nastiest compliments. I knew the wine had taken him too, his responses spilled it all. “You're a teasing little thing, aren't you?” I didn't respond, I just gave him the soothing smile I had had. “I asked you a question, I don't take action for an answer” he chuckled softly before pouring him another glass. His Adams apple bobbed slightly as he took a sip of the dark red liquid.  

My heel slowly running up his ankle “I don’t think so, usually I’m not at least...just doing it now because I want you...” I added with begging eyes as I watched the smirk grow on his face. My cunt growing wetter, by begging hole tightening around nothing just thinking about him ruining me. I knew when I first seen Jay, I knew I needed him to fuck me like he hated me. The toy in my bedside gave me no pleasure when he clouded my mind. He was just my only thought. 

The drive here that’s all I could think about, no matter how wet I was I just wanted to feel that warm tingling sensation from my cunt as he would make it fit. How I imagined the sweat on his skin pounding into me relentlessly. How his moans would make me shiver, I knew he was a groaner, I could feel it. How he’d praise me while fucking me like a worthless bitch, that was all in my mind. I would get on my knees and cry tonight if I wasn’t gonna feel his cum inside me. 

Snapping back into reality I felt him reach for my ankle “I’m gonna treat you like such a slut tonight, that’s what you want isn’t it?” I felt him move my leg to my foot landing against his bulge. Taking a deep breath, I nodded while nibbling on my bottom lip "You gonna stay my slut forever? If I feel you with me cum your mine...” he whispered. I nodded obediently. Whatever Jay wanted I was going to do it and that was the final. 

----- 

The drive back, the elevator ride, everything took forever till we finally found his front door. I heard the click as it unlocked, his lips attached to mine immediately. Back hitting the arm of a sofa causing me to yelp for just a moment. I watched the male kneel in front of me. His eyes staring down at me causing a shiver to run up my spine.  

His lips down running against my ankle as he takes the heels from my feet. Moans leaving him as he kissed my skin as he was soon reaching my knee. My body grow hot as if I had never been touched before. His fingers reaching up and hooking onto my panties before pulling them down my legs. Running up to my thigh he groaned “You smell amazing, but I'll get a taste of you in the morning, right now take that dress off and turn over. 

Rushing just like that, I did everything he asked before bending myself over the arm of the sofa. I yelled a little feeling him push me a bit forward, my hips risen from the sofa arm. My ass right in his view. “Such a sexy girl~” my teeth sunk into my bottom lip immodestly as I felt the sting once he slapped my ass. My eyes rolling back as I was waiting patiently for his cock. 

A sinful moan leaving me once I felt it, the feeling my cunt had been waiting for. The feeling of his cock stretching my cunt as he slowly seeped into me. “Fuck!” I hissed once feeling him pull out just to slam back into me. I heard a breath leave him as he started slowly rocking his hips. His tip hitting right at my cervix that was already begging to take his cum. 

My body becoming a mess, the sounds of my gummy walls as he pushed in and out of me, the reflection from the window decent enough for me to see the ring of my creamy substance around his cock. “So, fucking wet Angel~” he groaned before picking up his pace. Now so close to ruining me as I felt my lower half growing numb besides him ruining my insides.  

My body jolted with each thrust he made. Loud cries that echoed the whole apartment once he reached just enough to grip my hair. Sucking in breathes, chest starting to heave, his hands now making marks once they left my hair and scratched down my back. “Fuck I'm gonna cum! And you're gonna take it aren't you? You're gonna be my little cum dump?” He chuckled. Meanwhile I just nodded, I couldn't say anything. 

Feeling myself come undone I couldn't hold it any longer. My eyes droopy, saliva dripping from the side of my mouth as I took the last few thrusts before feeling his warm cum fill me. A smile on my face with each spurt of cum that left his cock. “Fuck fuck fuck~” he groaned, gripping my ass to steady himself from the trembling release. He came isnide me, I was his.  

[poetry-protest-pornography]

That's because you are. You are a terrible grandmother, and not a great person to begin with.

You've spent Ai and Oom's whole life comparing them, and making Ai feel inferior and unloved, while she worked to help pay the bills and make sure you could go to the doctor when you were sick.

And now, after the proof of her work and care is laid out for you, and Ai is literally begging you to acknowledge her, you still make it her fault that she's "drowning in what [you've] created"; taking zero responsibility for your actions.

Your "lifetime devotion"? To what, exactly? To making sure Ai felt unloved and worthless?

Ugh, I hate her, and I hope Ai moves in with her beautiful, rich girlfriend, and gets a book deal, and never sets foot in that house again.

Ai gave up on college so that Oom and her grandmother could have a better life, and then went and put herself through college and graduated without any support or encouragement from her family, and she still chose a job that lets her be at home to help her grandma when she's needed.

Ugh. I hope Grandma kicks the bucket after grovelling for forgiveness for the next six episodes.