#i am genuinely terrified this situation will kill me

[abyssal-cryptid]

I have barely eaten for two weeks and its very much catching up to me. This year has been awful. Ive nearly offed myself multiple times. Im starving and every day I find it harder and harder to eat. My ED is loving this. Im too disabled to go to the store rn and they denied my application for disability transport so Im stuck at home for the forseeable future

[soap-is-an-artist]

Hooray... it's 7 in the morning and I stayed up all night listening to the imperium... I feel so happy and satisfied with my life choices...

I am feeling very much not cowabunga, dude

[SEVERE rambling in tags]

[acotarxreader]

Lessons in Herbology

Azriel X Reader

Synopsis: You and Azriel are frequently at odds with one another but when Azriel accidently destroys your life's work, the illyrian will do anything to make it up to you.

Warnings: Angst, Smut, scratching? biting

A/N: Alrighty we got some frenemies smut situation going on hehe let me know what you think friends!

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

“AZRIEL!” You screamed from the top of the stairs of the Town House, your voice carried through the whole house and practically into the neighbour's. You had never been so angry with him in your life, with real thoughts that you were going to kill him. You quickly stepped down the stairs, your gait heavily weighted with rage.

“Gods YN, I was in the kitchen not Summer Court” Azriel laughed, meeting you at the bottom of the stairs. His eyes landed on the shredded manuscript you held in your hand, his eyes moved from the ribbons of paper to your enraged eyes. Azriel bolted towards the lounge where your friends sat alarmed at the volume of your voice and pace of Azriels sprint. You darted after him only to have a weight thrown into your stomach, hoisting you off your feet and over a broad shoulder. 

“CASS! PUT ME DOWN” Cassian held you as you tried to wriggle from the fireman-style hold, some of the shreds of paper flying around the room.

“Calm down YN we can fix whatever it is - Gods stop hitting me!” he fought against the urge to drop you, Azriel taking sanctuary stood behind the sofa. You allow your body to go limp, forcing a deep breath from your lungs until they empty. 

“What on Prythian is going on in here? I heard the shouting from the end of the garden?” Rhysand entered the lounge to his friends, concern and humour painted his face.

“He shredded my FINAL DRAFT of the medicinal encyclopedia I was writing to finally finish my fucking healer apprenticeship” the group inhaled sharply at the severity. You had been working on that for months, it needed to be submitted in a week, eyes all then landing on Azriel.

“I didn’t mean to! I was looking for something in your room and my shadows got a bit frantic at the urgency and-” “-What the hell were you doing in my room?!” you still hung over Cassian's shoulder, simmering in anger.

“-I was looking for Truth Teller AFTER YOU USED IT TO CUT UP HERB SAMPLES” Azriels own voice raising, remembering the disrespect you had shown him the week previously.

“-I’M GOING TO KILL YOU SHADOWSINGER” You began thrashing again, Cassian's fingers burying into your hips. 

“Would you two hurry up and have sex already?” The room's eyes landed on a very bored Amren as she rose and made her exit. You breathed deeply out once again.

“Okay, okay, I am calm, I am zen, put me down”

“Ehh I don’t think-”

“I SAID I’M FUCKING ZEN-” you coughed after shouting, clearing your throat before speaking again “-Ahem, I mean, Cassian, if you would please return me to the ground, I am Zen” Cassian glanced at Azriel who looked genuinely terrified.

“Okay, no killing Az though, he owes me a drink-”

“Wow thanks, Cass, my life is only worth a glass of whiskey” Azriel rolled his eyes to his brother as Cassian lowered you to the ground. You ran your hands down the front of your trousers, breathing out until the blood rush from being upside down released itself. 

The inner circle watched as you moved towards the kitchen, Azriel remaining behind the sofa as a buffer. You returned a jug of water and the broom, no one taking their eyes off you. 

“Cass, please help me with this for a moment” You stood on the edge of the opposite sofa to Azriel, placing the mouth of the jug flush to the roof, the broom then pushed at the base supporting the jug. You gestured with your head for Cassian to take hold of the broom, allowing you to release the jug, its weight now supported by Cassian holding the broom.

“Now, don’t move or you’ll soak the place Cass-”

“-wait what?” Cassian's confusion was cut off by your sudden movement darting towards Azriel.

“COME HERE AZRIEL!” you flew over the sofa that was protecting Azriel, slamming into his chest and sending him flying to the ground, Cassian was completely caught off guard and unsure of what to do, looking between the jug and his two friends near killing one another. Mor, Rhysand and Feyre keeled over with laughter. 

—---------------------------

You lay flat on your bed, staring up at the ceiling, the magnitude of the workload ahead of you washing over you. You left a soaked Cassian to mop up the water after Rhysand finally caught his breath from laughing to separate you from Azriel. You allowed the tears to fall down your cheeks, unable to hold them in any longer. 

You pinched the bridge of your nose, sighing while trying to pull the tears back in, a knock gently tapping off your oak door. You silently hoped it was Cassian or Feyre, wishing to openly cry into their arms at your future dissolving in front of your eyes. You opened the door, Azriel blowing in the door passed you before you could close it on him. You were shocked as you closed the door gently so as not to wake the rest of the house, Azriel pacing your room.

“Azriel, please go, I just can’t with you right now” “YN, I am so so s- were you crying?” you span away from him, drifting over towards your bed, climbing into the centre of the shredded paper nest you had made. 

“Look, I’m really sorry about the manuscript, normally I wouldn’t care if I drove you this insane but I really didn’t set out to ruin your manuscript as some sort of vendetta-” “You’re rambling Az” “Sorry sorry, long story short I’m here to help you rewrite the whole thing-” your laugh at his words cutting him off before he continued, sitting at the edge of your bed to continue his plea.

“I know I don’t know anything about healing other than what not to do but I can write a lot faster than you and I know you hate me right now but I’m still your friend in a weird us kinda way right?” you didn’t have a reply to that. You and Azriel frequently fought but you were still friends beneath it all. 

You didn't expect your body to move towards his, exhaustion and stress perhaps blurring your thought process. You wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him into a hug, his arms wrapping around your waist returning the sentiment. You fought against your body again, losing the fight as tears began to fall from your waterline once again.

“I am a terrible friend” he whispered into your hair, feeling the scope of the burden his haste had brought you. 

“Yeah, you kinda are” You laughed through your tears, your joking tone returned the lightness to Azriels chest. Silence fell around the room, you both just taking a moment to hold one another in ease, a new sense of comfort growing between you both. 

You separated, moving deeper into the bed, handing him blank sheets and a pen as you wiped your tears with your sleeve. Azriel slid into the bed alongside you and after a quick debrief, you both began the work of diving into herbology. 

You both wrote and researched until three in the morning rolled around, and your eyes grew heavy, sleep fighting your need to keep writing. 

“Okay YN, that’s enough” Azriel barely whispered as your eyes finally lost the fight. Your weight fell softly into Azriels side as he gently pulled the pen and paper from your hand. His shadows swept up the stray sheets into a pile on the floor before they pulled a throw blanket from the base of the bed over the both of you. Azriel too tired to fight their mother-hen energy. 

—----------------------------

The sunlight crossed your eyes as you rested into Azriels chest causing you to squint into the unforgiving rays. You rolled into Azriels side tighter, further tangling your legs together with a groan of comfort. You then shot upwards in the bed. 

“Gods YN what's wrong?” he stretched the words out while straightening his arms out above his head, his eyes adjusting to the light. 

“I just woke up next to you is what's wrong! Leave before someone sees you, they'll never let it go” “YN don’t be annoying, nothing happened-” he rolled back towards you, reaching his arm across your abdomen and pulling you back into the mattress “-you were blocking the sun from my eyes a minute ago” You hit him gently into the chest laughing at his dumb smirk and yet you obeyed. 

“OH MY GODS I NEED TO FINISH WRITING” You shot back up remembering the mammoth workload ahead of you, Azriel being sent flying towards the floor with your sudden upward movement. 

“Okay okay fucking hell, I'll go get you a coffee” he half laughed, pushing himself from the ground and quietly out into the hall.

Azriel strode down the stairs, feeling weirdly warm towards the thoughts of this morning. 

“Hey Az, do you-” “Nothing! I did nothing” Cassian raised an eyebrow to the spymaster's rushed and unusually uncontrolled response. 

“Okay, I’m going to choose to pretend that wasn’t incredibly suspicious” he laughed from the lounge where he sipped his coffee.

“Wait, I thought you went to the House of Wind last night”

“Yeah I was but then YN and I fell asleep after-” “After what Az? Wait, did you just come out of her room?” he couldn’t hide the giddy smug tone coating his words. 

“No no no” Azriel tried to brush him off, moving into the kitchen with Cassian hot on his heels. 

“Azriel, did you and YN-” “-Cassian! Do not finish that sentence!” Azriel scrunched his eyes together before reaching for a coffee mug from the press. 

“Az, you don’t drink coffee” Cassian smirk now turning to a blinding grin.

“It's for YN and before you start, I was helping her with her manuscript and then we fell asleep, literally nothing else happened” Azriel boiled the water, still refusing to turn to face the Illyrian warrior.

“Did you want something to happen Az? Was it a lesson in Chemistry instead of a lesson in Herbology?” The question caught him entirely off guard, dropping the pouch of coffee granules into the sink with a swear.

“Ohhhhh Azie like YNN-ie”

“Shh she could hear you” he whipped around to his brother with panic at his teasing tone. 

“Oh shit you didn’t deny it” Cassin punched Azriel’s arm playfully but harder than intended, some element of his protective nature rearing its head. 

“Look, I don’t know, you know I don’t know, I just find her mesmerising but also a mind-altering amount of frustrating” 

“Ohh Az you got it so bad for her” he pushed Azriel coltishly again. Azriel returned to finishing the coffee, the noticeable silence from his brother raising a question in his mind. Azriel turned back to find Cassian's eyes fixed heavily onto the ground, now unable to meet his eye.

“Cass…what do you know?” 

“N-nothing” Azriel only raised an eyebrow in response, he would always be able to spot a lie, especially with Cassian. Azriel caught Cassian's shoulders and forced him to look into his eyes

“Cassian, you need to tell me right now if I even have the slightest of chances with YN'' The clear and definitive tone of Azriels voice was not lost on Cassian.

“Yeah Az, I kind of do know something” Cassian then proceeded to tell Aziel the story of you. How you liked him since you met four hundred years ago, how you believed you would never be like Mor in his eyes, how you knew you’d never be like Elain in his eyes, your fighting going into overdrive, especially at the time of Elains introduction to your world. How you tried to process and bury your feelings, choosing to stay his frenemy rather than ever risk losing him to unrequited feelings. At the end of it, Azriel felt awash with every and all emotion.

“So wait what about now, does she still feel those feelings?” “Do you want to be with her?” 

“We’re not talking about me right now Cass, we’re talking about her! Well?!” “Yeah Az, she still does - Gods she's going to kill me where I stand” Azriel barely heard what was said after the confirmation of what he had secretly wanted for so long. He took a step back from Cass, shock colouring his face before he found his feet rushing him up the stairs and away from Cassian's calls to be careful.

You sat writing away, almost halfway complete with the rewrite as Azriel nearly lashed the door off the hinges and slammed it closed almost as hard. Azriel almost took two steps at a time as he closed the distance between you, he snatched the paper from your hands, throwing it any which way. 

“Az what the fuck-” Your confused laugh was cut off as Azriel lunged forward, pushing you into the bed, and hovering above you. You looked into his hazel eyes, which seemed almost lit with fear before he leaned down and connected his lips to yours. You felt the stress he had caused you yesterday be instantly replaced with a pure lightness. He pulled back to look into your eyes again, his face the picture of apologies and petrification, not believing his actions.

“I am so sor-” You cut off his apology by pulling him back to meet you, him smiling into your lips as they met hurriedly. 

“This-is-so-crazy” he breathes between kisses.

“It-could-get-crazier” You almost giggled into the breathy kisses, Azriels shadows responding to you by wrapping around your curves. You sat up from beneath him, only separating from him to pull your shirt from over your head, Azriel repeating the action with his own linen. You ran your hands down his chiselled bare chest and he began to nip at yours. 

“Are you sure you want to do this YN?” you smiled at his kind eyes, placing a tender kiss in reassurance. As you separated his eyes had turned lustful, your hand reaching and grazing his bulge, gaining a slight groan from him. He promptly stood and removed his trousers as you kicked off your own, sliding further into the bed and beckoning him to follow you. You let out a whimper at the feeling of his teeth marbling your neck, marking you as his.

“I’m gonna give you such crap about that beautiful noise later YN” he grinned, abusing the spot that gained the noise causing more to leave you. He claimed the spot until dapples decorated your skin, the feeling of him hard against you was driving you crazy quickly. You bucked your hips up to meet him harder in sweet friction. 

“Okay I can’t wait any longer, I need you, I really fucking need you” he panted, pulling his underwear down, unleashing his full glory, your mouth almost drying at the sight. 

Azriel slowly inched into you, allowing you to adjust to the massive length of him, your nails digging into his shoulders in glorious pain. Azriel raised a hand above your head to support himself, your eyes squeezed shut in pleasure as he began to move. Your nails racked up his back at the growing speed, your growing moans spurring him on. Azriels wings splayed out to balance himself, your hand found itself trancing gently the spines sending gratifying shivers down Azriels back. 

Your head fell back as you both began to sink into synchronised movement, tightening around him the band began to tighten and tighten and tighten until finally, it snapped. You almost roared his name at the release of pure endorphins, the sound sending Azriel sailing over his own edge. Your legs still wrapped around him as he began to shake through his own orgasm before he slowly pulled out and collapsed breathlessly beside you. 

Azriel sat up, hauling the duvet up and over you both as you leaned your back flush with his chest, breathing, fighting to return to regular rhythm. 

“Four hundred years huh?” Azriel puffed the words out with a smile. You took a moment to process the words. 

“I am going to kill Cassian” You squeezed your eyes closed in almost embarrassment, Azriel leaning forward and kissing your cheek softly.

“Am I forgiven for the manuscript incident?” you hummed in answer to his question, eyes relaxing closed as you both tangled together. You looked to the ground to see Azriel’s shadows mending shreds of paper together.

“Az…did you know that your shadows could do that?” you sat up looking at the now-mended manuscript on the floor.

“Eh…yes I did, I just wanted to spend time with you, don’t kill me” he looked panicked to your disbelief. You just allowed a loud laugh to escape your chest at the absurdity of it all. 

“I think you’ll be making it up to me for the rest of your life” “I can’t wait” 

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

[darlingdaisyfarm]

What do u think dad!Ford would be like? 🥹

☆彡 Ford Pines as a dad :)

★ his past haunts him. Ford is hyper-aware of his own mistakes and he’s terrified of repeating them. if he gets snappy or distant, he always circles back to apologise to his kid. “i didn’t mean to upset you. im still learning how to be better at this.”

★ academic expectations aren’t a thing for him. Ford understands the pressure of being “the smart one” better than anyone, so he refuses to let his kid feel the same weight. they could be an artist, a gardener, or a professional bubble blower, he’ll support them 100%

★ awkward, deeply earnest. he’s the dad who gives his kid a PowerPoint presentation on how much he loves them or offers comfort by saying things like: “i believe your emotional pain is valid and deserves acknowledgment.” but he’ll also stay up all night building a model of the andromeda galaxy for their science fair because he wants them to feel supported

★ he loves teaching them. not in a pushy way, but because it brings him joy to share what he knows

★ he's willing to explain the same thing 20 times if they don’t understand it or sit through the same annoying kids’ movie on repeat because it makes them happy

★ paranoid protector. if you think Stan is overprotective, Ford is worse. he teaches his kid how to build a Faraday cage just in case someone tries to control their brainwaves

★ PROUD NERD DAD. he’s that parent. the one who builds overly complicated science projects for the school fair or accidentally intimidates the teacher by asking if the curriculum includes quantum mechanics

★ Ford has seen things. he’s fought interdimensional monsters and battled with Bill Cipher, so yeah, he’s terrified of his kid getting hurt.

“you can’t go to that sleepover. what if it’s a trap set by extradimensional entities?!”

“dad, it’s just Timmy’s house.”

“just Timmy’s house, you say? that’s exactly what Bill would want me to think!”

★ he gives his kid tracking devices disguised as bracelets and builds a mini forcefield generator for their room. It’s a lot, but it all boils down to one thing: he’s terrified of losing them, like he almost lost Stan

★ notes on the fridge with text “out of milk. also, don’t touch the glowing rock in the lab, it might be sentient.”

★ Ford doesn’t always know how to express affection, but he’s so proud of his kid. hes the guy clapping too loud at the school play, or awkwardly trying to high-six after a good report card

★ i have a feeling he'll insist on preparing the kid for every possible situation, from wilderness survival to escaping an alternate dimension. he turns a simple camping trip into an intense survivalist training session.

“so you see this? this is how you create a makeshift compass using only a magnet and some swamp water. now, repeat it back to me.”

“Dad, can we just roast marshmallows?”

★ Ford knows he’s made some very questionable choices in life. and he’s determined to steer his kid away from making the same mistakes. but he also knows that life isn’t meant to be lived in fear. so he tries to let his kid explore and make their own mistakes, even if it kills him to watch

★ he does these impressions of weird creatures he’s studied to make the kid laugh or making up ridiculous bedtime stories about interdimensional adventures

★ being genuinely interested in whatever the kid loves. they mention liking stars? he’s pulling out telescopes and teaching them how to navigate by constellations. they doodle in a notebook? he’s buying them every art supply and researching the history of visual storytelling

★ if the kid needs help with a project, he’ll spend hours (or days) going overboard. you’ll find him at 2 AM in his study, hunched over a model volcano, muttering about optimizing the lava flow

★ casually mentions his interdimensional adventures at dinner and the kid eats it up because, let’s face it, having a dad who’s basically Indiana Jones with extra trauma is awesome

★ he’s terrified of being a bad father, of not being enough, and that fear can make him distant at times. he overthinks every decision, convinced he’s going to mess it all up. what if he's too much like his father? what if he pushes his kid too hard? but the thing is, he cares, so much. and his kid knows it, even if Ford’s love is sometimes wrapped up in layers of self-doubt and fear

★ if anyone messes with his kid oh, they’re done. Ford may be a nerd, but he’s also a six-fingered genius who’s survived the multiverse. he’ll calmly dismantle anyone who threatens his family

★ Ford's bedtime stories start off like normal fairy tales, but somehow they end as “and so, the starfish rebuilt its missing limb, but it always remembered the one it lost. and it knew that even though it was whole again, some things leave scars you never see.” you’re sobbing. the kid’s sobbing. Ford’s eyes are suspiciously glassy as he kisses them on the forehead and mutters something about needing to adjust the humidity in the room.

★ bonus point if he’s reading his kid a bedtime story, he gets way too into it, doing all the voices and even sketching out illustrations

★ Ford may not be that emotional as his brother, except when it comes to his kid. their first stick-figure drawing? framed in his study. their macaroni art project? encased in glass because he’s convinced it’s a modern masterpiece

★ i think Ford is usually the patient parent. but one day, after hours of hearing “why can’t I do this? why am I not good enough?” from his kid, he loses it.

“you think you’re not good enough? do you know what I see when I look at you? i see someone braver than I ever was, smarter than I’ll ever be and kinder than this world deserves. you are my child, my greatest achievement and if I hear you doubt yourself again, so help me, I’ll—” and then he has to stop because both of them are crying and hugging

★ he insists on teaching the kid “important life skills,” but half the time it’s just him geeking out while the kid watches in awe/confusion “okay now, if you ever find yourself trapped in an alternate dimension, here’s how you build a rudimentary portal using only a toaster and three rubber bands.”

“. . . can you teach me how to ride a bike instead?”

“right. yes. of course. bikes.”

★ and he never stops learning. about his kid, about himself, about what it means to be a father. it’s not always easy, but Ford is nothing if not resilient

★ Ford’s idea of a trip is hiking through the woods with a map and an emergency beacon, dragging his kid along while pointing out flora and fauna. “see this plant? highly toxic. don’t touch it.”

★ his passion for research often pulls him away, but he doesn’t want to miss a thing. over time, he learns to put boundaries in place, to walk away from the lab when it’s time for dinner or to prioritize their soccer game over his latest discovery

[captainuranium543]

Ft headcanons nobody wanted part 2

-natsu will occasionally get genuinely jealous over his friends owning appliances for heating. Why should they need those things when they have him, if they just call him over her do a way better job then any of those stupid gadgets. He finds out gray owns a hair dryer and immediately becomes a jealous ex girlfriend. He confronts Lucy in her apartment one night acting so serious he she doesn't even get mad that he broke in, then just goes "care to explain this?" And puts a lighter on the table.

- Wendy is very very quiet. Creepily so. Not elaborating but I think you can imagine the kinds of situations this leads to.

- Mira's eyes glow in the dark and it creeps everyone the fuck out

- erza has the worst hoarding problem. Her dorm room is entirely piled floor to ceiling with boxes of meticulously organized random items she refuses to throw out for some reason

young Mira: "alright this is ridiculous why do you even have this"

Young erza: "say what you want but when you need 746 packets of Mcnolias sweet and sour sauce and find your supply baron I'll be laughing"

- levy is one of the few members of the guild who actively sought it out to join. Before fairy tail she was an orphan and a student studying magic. She left to join fairy tail to learn more about magic in general from real world experience.

- laki will sometimes build creepily realistic wooden statues of her guild mates and leave them around in inconspicuous places so when you find them they scare the shit out of you. Sometimes she hides them too well and it takes years to discover them.

- Lucy has actually written several unpublished novels and the only other person who's ever seen them is levy. Lucy thinks their crap but levy carefully annotates every single one.

- laxus used to occasionally be forced to go on jobs with erza and Mira when they were young both to help and to make sure they didn't kill each other and he hated it.

- I think I might have said this before but I firmly believe levy, Lucy, freed and jellal later on all form a book club because they love reading, the problem is they all have vastly different tastes in book so they can never decide what to read each week and usually just end up playing Scrabble and talking shit about their various teammates

"please guys trust me this one's good"

"I am NOT reading Colleen Hoover Lucy and that's final"

- this one's based on city hero but I personally believe erza and Erik find a shocking common ground over motorcycles. Erza likes vehicles in general and Erik took up bike racing as a hobby, since discovering this is the longest they've been able to be in the same room together without someone throwing a punch.

- Wendy visits lamia scale regularly still to hang out with chelia. she usually brings romeo and they all go out to do whatever dumb kid stuff they want. (Tbh I just like her having friends her own age)

-lucy sometimes randomly lets her rich girl's heritage show in random conversation and it's always jarring. You'll be having a normal chill convo with her and then she'll look you dead in the eyes and ask you what colour your personal carriage was growing up.

- Natsu is genuinely a really good cook he just has a terrible taste so nobody wants to eat his food. For reference he only ever cooks his food because he enjoys doing it to him it tastes fine either way.

- if you had asked the fairy tail guild who the scariest guild member was in early season 1 the answers would have been erza, guildarts, laxus etc all the usual suspects. Once season 2 starts however the answer is unanimous. It's juvia. Juvia is fucking terrifying when she gets mad. You don't realize how scary water can be until it's filling your lungs and as your vision blurs until all you can see is her merciless stare.

- Mira and freed can drink blood for demon reasons. gray can too after getting devil slayer but he thinks its gross. Surprisingly so can gajeel because of the high iron content.

- gray the type of guy who's bed has only the smallest thinnest blanket on his bed and usually it's on the ground cuz he gets too hot

- meanwhile erza is the type of girl to have so many pillows, blankets and plushies on her bed you wonder how she fucking sleeps in it. Mf has a NEST.

- Lucy isn't even surprised anymore when she finds people in her house, she doesn't know how they keep getting in and honestly she doesn't care anymore she's to tired to deal with it.

- freed plays a lot of really fucking weird instruments. Idk it just seems like something he would do.

- bixlow can speak most languages and it's always really surprising when he randomly says smth like "oh yea I can speak ancient nirvid no prob" like that's totally normal

- if laxus and freed ever did get together (in my heart it's cannon) evergreen and bixlow would be their biggest haters. Yea they love them and they're happy for them but also EW. GROSS. GET A ROOM.

[sanjisboyfie]

yandere zoro headcanons

male reader of course <3 also this is actually a very soft yandere zoro, nothing super duper hardcore...i think

yandere ! zoro . . . just expects you to know that he likes you. it's so annoying. he does the bare minimum and genuinely thinks that's enough for you to know. he's held the door open for you one time and equated that to a love confession. because he's not gonna ever blatantly confess to you, so he does these other minuscule things to get your attention and make it "known" that he likes you.

yandere ! zoro . . . will be at your beck and call. he will do whatever you ask of him. he'll act like its annoying, but he is more than happy to do whatever you ask him. it's undeniably a really sweet gesture that he does, but sometimes he gets really pushy and aggressive with it. the reason why is because he wants you to completely rely on him, even for your own basic needs. he wants to be doing everything for you for the power-trip and control it gives him.

"give it to me," zoro gruffly said, taking the bags from your arms. you were more than capable in carrying the groceries, but zoro took them off your hands. he knew you could handle them, but he felt the need to aid you.

"i am more than capabl-"

"shut up, i'm doing you a favor," zoro rejected your want to carry the bags, shaking his head.

"fine, thanks, zoro." a flash of your gentle smile was enough to send him into a flustered, crimson red blushing state.

yandere ! zoro . . . kind of going hand in hand with ^ that one, zoro would easily kill for you. the amount of dead bodies you'd be responsible for would be uncountable. every single man or woman thats hit on you has - unknowing to you - have been murdered by zoro. he doesn't take people trying to take you away from him lightly. to him its serious enough he needs to take their life. and he has and he will continue to.

yandere ! zoro . . . is very pushy on affections. it may sound out of character, but zoro never thought he'd get lucky enough to find someone like you. so now he's found you, he's gonna be selfish about, as far as he can go.

zoro had a nasty habit of physically taking you away from conversations. it would be out of nowhere - when you're just playing games with chopper and then you're suddenly being thrown over zoro's shoulder. you could try fighting against him all you want, but he easily overpowers you.

and when you're finally dropped onto the crow's nests floor, you berate him, "what's your issue?! chopper and i were talking you know!"

"i know," zoro says, not bothered one bit by your shouting.

"so?" you say expectingly, not enjoying how nonchalant he was being about the whole situation.

"if you're my boyfriend, don't i have the right to spend time with you?"

"i can still have friends though,"

zoro yawned, taking you into his lap and trapping you in hie arms, "come on, let's just sleep. we don't have to keep talking about stupid shit like this,"

"you can't just-"

a hand on the back of your head made you crash into his chest and effectively shut you up, his chest silencing you as you were smothered (suffocated) in it.

yandere ! zoro . . . has two sides of his personality - one he uses with you, and only with you, and then the side he shows everyone else. he never speaks as softly as he does with you as he does with other people. he's hyper aware that he looks intimidating to others, but he goes out of his way to be softer with you. it's sweet, honestly, but it's terrifying to see it happen in real time.

zoro had an arm drapped around your shoulder, simply following in whatever direction you took him to. whenever he saw something that he'd think you'd like, he pointed it out to you with a hidden smile.

"wait, look, do you like it?" zoro gently asked, picking up the ring and examining it in the natural light, "i can get it for you, if you want?"

"but it's pretty expensive-"

"don't worry about it, i can afford it," zoro shrugged, enjoying the way your eyes brightened. if only he could keep that for himself completely, hide you away from the rest of the world.

the two of them walked up to the vendor. zoro's soft smile was wiped away in an instant, looking gruff and annoyed at the man, "this one."

"what a lovely ring, you two are-"

"could you just hurry up? our crew might leave without us," zoro lied, already so annoyed with the innocent man who was just doing his job. you slapped him on the chest, shooting him a look.

seeing the disappointed expression on your face, he faltered in his glare a little bit. and an embarassed blush came onto his face, looking to the side and forcing himself to not glare at the vendor.

the man looked grateful for your intervention, quickly taking the exchange of beri and handing you the ring. a quick thank you left your lips before you walked out of there, zoro in tow.

"you're such an asshole," you murmured in annoyance, shrugging off his arm from your shoulder.

"babe, c'mon, don't-" but he shut up immediately when he saw the look you shot him, a warning look. it worked and he kept quiet the rest of the walk to sunny.

he practically grovelled for forgiveness the rest of the night, only gaining it back when he gently put the ring around your finger and peppered kisses on your face.

yandere ! zoro . . . is really only nice and doting to you - he doesn't give a shit about anyone else but you and makes it known. it earns him a scolding but he needs you to know that everyone that isn't you doesn't even cross his mind. you're the only person he thinks about and will continue to think about - everyone else isn't even worthy of being as important as you are in his head. you are the only thing he cares about, he devotes his entire strength in making it known he is at your disposal.

[naamahdarling]

Two days ago and I was comfortable enough that this was the right choice that I was able to make the call to have Smooch put to sleep. I am sure now. I wish I weren't. It hurts to see him like this. The vet is out or I would move it forward. We could do the emergency vet but I literally do not think I could do it without our vet and my favorite nurse. That feels selfish but when she answered the phone yesterday the comfort was... astonishing.

I'm trying to prepare. I've been waiting for this for a long time, which is why it's bearable at all. I have entertainment, I have an art project to memorialize him ready to go for whenever I feel like it. I have plans to make a couple of keepsakes. But there's going to be a hole in my life so much bigger than his frail little body. It's the end of part of me. He has been there in my future for so long, thinking about not having him there is like vertigo, or a reverse haunting of some kind. It's a Wrongness, part of the world about to be unmade. He is genuinely part of my identity. I'm all these things that I consider core parts of me -- queer, funny, creative, curious, a little clever, loving, an artist, a survivor, my friends' friend, my blood sister's sister, my chosen sister's sibling, my father's daughter, my boyfriend's partner...and I'm Dried Pickle Man's person.

Here at home IRL and online, and everywhere I go, to almost anyone I speak to at all, I have been his human for 13 years and 27 days.

And that isn't enough apparently, because Sid, too, is slipping away. I...I don't know that we can save him, either. His digestive issues are keeping him from eating, we can't stop the flare, a feeding tube won't fix it, meds aren't helping him. He's losing weight very fast. Vet is at a loss. I usually have a pretty good idea of what to do next or what needs to happen. I have nothing for him. The specialist might know. How the hell do we keep affording it?

And Raleigh. Oh god. Raleigh. If we can't afford the surgery or if it fails. What do we do?

What if we lose all three?

What if my boyfriend loses BOTH his boys? Raleigh alone is going to devastate him. Not just sad, like ordinary grief, I mean I have never ever in my life seen an animal love a human this much.

He's already struggling with his depression and ADHD. He will suffer and there is nothing I can do to stop this all from happening. I can't dig into a hidden well of trying harder, I can't outsmart it. I can't comfort him by saying that it is hard but possible to influence this. I hate seeing him in pain.

And I'm scared for me. I am afraid it will just ruin him and I will lose him too, until and unless he can recover. And I already spend so much time alone. Even my art is...gone. Too painful. Writing isn't really possible, either. My body barely feels like mine these days. I have so fucking little to hang on to. My cats are one of the last things I have of myself. One of the only good things I have in my day to day life.

It's all an absolutely terrifying cascade. Unlike a lot of situations where I'm scared of the future, this isn't me afraid of unlikely scenarios that are several crises away. This is very real. And I'm usually not scared for my boyfriend like this.

It won't kill us. You can come back from something like this, probably, I know people survive much worse and I'm bombarded with reminders of that a dozen times a day. But it can take such a long time to come back, and...sometimes you just...Come Back Wrong.

I'm not often genuinely completely helpless. I am helpless now.

[nnnn99999]

It's literally 2:45 am right now and here I am writing this because who needs sleep when you have thk. I feel like I need to write this right now because of how overwhelmed I am by this one scene.

You see, from the moment Fadel grabs Style and starts speaking in the abandoned warehouse(?) in the woods, there is only honesty between Fadel and Style. No mask, no lies, no deception, nothing. Just pure honesty. This is the first time Fadel dropped his mask completely and showed Style his true emotions. Style, recognizing that, also immediately drops his own mask and listens. Style, who shamelessly yaps all the time regardless of the situation, listens. Style, who has never hesitated to fire back at Fadel, just shuts up and listens.

This is the most serious I have seen Style be in this show. He is so incredibly focused on Fadel and what Fadel wants to express. Because this is what he has been waiting for. An opening to form a genuine connection with Fadel. This is so important to him, maybe more than he himself realizes. Because somewhere along the line, Style went beyond just having fun messing with Fadel. At this point, Style genuinely cares about Fadel and wants to understand him.

Coming to Fadel, I don't think he brought Style to this remote place to pour his heart out to Style. Nor do I think he had any intention of killing Style. I think be brought Style here to give him a scare, to show him how dangerous he really is. However, seeing Style following him without fear, calling out his name again and again, Fadel realized how much he likes having Style around. And that terrifies him. He is so scared of his own desires that it makes him really angry at the one who evokes this desire. Fadel enjoys having Style around, and the realization of this fact brings out Fadel's deepest fear, the fear of falling in love.

As Fadel talks about how much he doesn't like getting used to having Style around, Style, I think for the first time, sees how much Fadel is struggling within. Fadel is so frustrated at himself for feeling everything he is feeling, and he is so incredibly scared of getting attached to Style. It's so hard for him to accept that he doesn't want to be lonely anymore, because Style with his ridiculous antics brings so much color to his life. Fadel, for the first time, lets Style see how much he wants him, and how much he hates himself for wanting him.

Then comes the moment that killed me. It's when Fadel says "I don't like that I miss you". He is so vulnerable in this moment, his desire and fear clearly visible in his eyes as he stares directly at Style, and admits that he has already grown attached to Style. (Oh, the way Joong delivered this hit me like a gut punch, truly.)

Style, as he feels the honesty and sincerity coming from Fadel, expresses himself in the most sincere way he himself is capable of. Instead of saying anything, he shows Fadel that he, too, cares. The first kiss, initiated by Style, is his attempt at conveying to Fadel his own feeling. It is somewhat tentative, but full of sincerity. And then Style says, "it's okay to love". And it is at this moment that an emotional connection is finally formed between the two.

Fadel, not once, said anything about being afraid to love. But that's what he was tryimg to express all along, trying to tell Style why he has been trying so hard to push him away. And Style understood. He recognized Fadel's fear and gave him the reassurance he so desperately needed. That Fadel doesn't need to be alone. That Fadel is allowed to form bonds with others. That Fadel is allowed to love and be loved.

This communication is so honest because neither is trying to tell the other that they love the other. Because neither of them are in love yet. However, they do care about each other and that is very well communicated between the two.

This leads to the both of them giving in to their desire for each other. If you compare it to their first time, the difference is so clear. This time is so much more intense, because this time both of them are so much more into it as they relish in their newfound connection. They maintain constant eyecontact the entire time, which was pretty much nonexistent during their first time. They were not restraining themselves like they did before. This is why this time felt so much more intimate than their first time, even though they were wearing way less clothes during their first time. It's so emotionally charged this time. Even the lighting this time is dimmer, but warmer. Making this moment feel even more intimate.

There is also such a huge difference in their interactions right after their first time and second time. After the first time, Fadel was irritable, Style was annoying, neither seemed content and there was so much distance between them, physically and emotionally. After the second time however, they seem very relaxed and content. They are resting pretty close to each other, with their elbows touching/almost touching. There is a sense of ease and comfort between them. Fadel is in a good enough mood to smile, Style is in a good enough mood to tone down his attitude. This is the most pleasant conversation they have had so far, and while this moment isn't as honest as the one inside the building, it's still pretty chill and sincere.

I like that the intensity between FadelStyle is increasing gradually as their feelings for each grow more and more. I will definitely not survive their actual confession. After all, I already died at "i don't like that i miss you".

[boreal-sea]

I will say solely bc you say anyone who picks bear is radfem-poisoned- there is another, albeit probably less common reason to pick the bear. I'd pick the bear, and not bc I hate or am afraid of men, but bc im autistic as fuck with a special interest in biology and genuinely understand animals better than people lmao. A chill man and a (albeit unlikely) chill bear would be fine either way, but if either was aggressive? I'd know more about how to escape the bear than I would having to escape any human trying to hurt me, bears have protocols to escapethat tend to work on any bear of that type, with exceptions, people don't lmao

To reference the original argument: to assume there is any level of comparable risk between bears and human men is fucking bonkers. It is illogical to compare the threat level of a human man and a bear. The bear is much more dangerous, hands-down. The same goes with any other human being. A bear is much more of a threat to you.

The ONLY reason to believe men and bears pose the same level of risk is to believe all the poison you've been taught about how evil and dangerous men are. There are two sources of this propaganda: 1: the patriarchy itself, because the idea of a hyper-aggressive man benefits the patriarchy's vision of men as the superior sex, and 2: radical feminists, who want all women so terrified of men that the only escape is separatism.

---

Ok, so now, let's operate off the new assumption that the gender of the human doesn't matter:

Honestly "I would rather be in mortal danger and have to run through all the protocols I know on how to survive a bear attack and potentially die rather than see another person" seems really, really... really illogical.

It doesn't matter how much you love animals or how much you know, if the bear tries to kill you it would be way better at it than a human. The bad part about nature is that it does not in fact follow protocol. I know a lot about how to escape bears too. It's advice, but bears do not have to follow that advice. You have a much higher chance of survival running away from a person.

And the fact is, 99.9% of people you meet (including men) are perfectly normal human beings who do not wish you harm. Hell, some of them are probably autistic with a special interest in bears. The human is probably just chilling with you. You don't even have to talk to them. You could just walk away.

Everyone keeps going "well what IF the person tried to attack me?" ignoring that such a situation is in fact very unlikely.

[caligvlasaqvarivm]

I know you've touched on it in your Gamzee Essay/general alternative timeline post but may I hear some more about your ideas regarding GamTav (or only Tavros)? You get these two in a way the broader fandom doesn't (which is fine, I'll still reblog even the most vanilla ooc art of them) so I'd really love hearing more of your thoughts:3

Ok, I think this is going to be someeewhat controversial, but I think they're destined for pale together, despite Gamzee's initial flushed flirting. I did in fact reread ALL of Tavros's logs for this.

I think the first thing we need to establish is that Tavros actually feels really shitty about himself. It's obvious that his problem is "self-esteem," since he's constantly prattling on about it, but there's a bit he says as Tavrossprite that's pretty enlightening as to where his actions stem from:

TAVROSPRITE: i SYMPATHIZE ENTIRELY WITH YOUR SOCIAL IMPASSE, cAUSING NOT GOOD REFLECTIONS ABOUT YOURSELF, tHAT MAYBE ALSO DOUBLE AS LIBERATING STUFF ABOUT YOU THAT YOU RANDOMLY DECIDE IS FINE SUDDENLY, TAVROSPRITE: oLD ACQUAINTANCES, aND GUYS YOU ONCE CALLED FRIENDS, TAVROSPRITE: tHOSE ARE VERY HARD, TAVROSPRITE: bECAUSE OVER TIME THEY GET EXPOSED TOO MUCH, tO ALL MY FLAWS AND INSECURITIES, TAVROSPRITE: aND THEY START LIKING ME LESS BECAUSE OF THAT, TAVROSPRITE: aT LEAST, tHAT'S HOW THE TRUTH FEELS, iN MY BRAIN, TAVROSPRITE: sO i START THINKING, mAYBE THEY CAN'T BE THAT IMPORTANT TO ME, aFTER ALL, iF i'M GOING TO WANT TO FEEL NOT SAD ABOUT MYSELF ALL THE TIME,

He has a mixture of self-loathing and social anxiety, the latter of which exacerbates the former, as his mind tells him that his friends secretly hate him. However, his real problem is what he then does with those feelings - he avoids them and the situations that cause them. This causes two major knock-on effects: the first is that he actively ends up distancing himself from people who ARE nice to him and DO care about him, only adventuring with Vriska because he's a pushover and she's very pushy (he adventures completely alone up until that point, and winds up sleeping almost all the time afterwards); the second being that, because he refuses to actually sit with and address his negative feelings about himself (or anything else), he's never able to fix them, or remove himself from shitty situations.

Something consistent with Tavros is that every time he tries to make a decision before his death and Vriska-prototyping, it's by trying to rely on something external - whether that's his imaginary friend, his robot legs, or the story of Pupa Pan... or relying on advice from Kanaya, or seeking approval and forgiveness from Vriska, or earning flushed interest from Jade. He believes himself to be deeply flawed and untrustworthy, so he allows other people to make his decisions, and when relationships do get intimate enough that someone might get him vulnerable, he peaces out. Even his ill-fated attempt to kill Vriska is heavily encouraged by Vriska herself:

AT: aND THAT BEING THE CASE, AT: eVEN THOUGH i'M TERRIFIED OF YOU, AT: aND nOT AS STRONG, AT: oR REAL CONFIDENT, AT: oNLY MOSTLY FAKE CONFIDENT, AG: Yeeeeeeees? AG: Go on. AT: i THINK, AT: i AM GOING TO HAVE TO STOP YOU, AG: Yeah! That's the spirit. AG: Pretty weakslime threat there, 8ut it's a start. AG: Tell you what. AG: If you can find me in this la8, you can have at me. AG: I'll even give you a free shot! No funny 8usiness or anything. AT: oK, AT: tHEN, AT: hERE i COME, AG: I'll 8e w8ing. <3

As we see with Jade, whom he's attempting to flirt with flushed, he's actively trying to impress her using "self-esteems" explicitly gained from "fake" things he's acknowledging as fake - that is, refusing to be genuine and vulnerable with her, because he doesn't believe anyone would like him the way he actually is.

AT: bUT WHAT ABOUT, AT: mY ATTRACTIVE BRAVADO, AT: aND IGNORING MY INSTINCTUAL COWARDICE HARD ENOUGH TO SAY THAT i LIKE YOU, AT: iSN'T THAT, AT: sUPPOSED TO BE VERY ATTRACTIVE, aND ENCOURAGE THE MAJOR HAVING OF FLUSHED FEELINGS IN OTHERS, AT: i GUESS WHAT i MEAN IS, wHAT ABOUT ALL MY CONFIDENCE, AT: wHAT DO YOU THINK ABOUT THAT,

His "dating" Vriska in the dream bubbles is also dubious and one-sided at best, as John calls him out for faking it and Tavros isn't willing to bring up wanting the Ring of Life because he was planning to propose to Vriska. Thus, once more, he's attempting to use something disingenuous (in this case, a human proposal) to win another person's affection, which he believes would be a symbol of actualizing his "self-esteem".

We also literally see him do the "deciding someone wasn't actually important to you after all, so it hurts less when you cut them off before they can hurt you emotionally by noticing your flaws" thing with Nepeta - he actually quite likes Nepeta, and would certainly have enjoyed having her play the game with him, but he assures her that it's not a big deal basically immediately, and insists he'll just find someone else:

AC: :33 < tavros im sorry i cant be on your team :(( AC: :33 < im not allowed AT: oH, AT: tHAT'S OKAY, AT: tHEN i GUESS HE SAID NO, tHEN, ... AC: :33 < hmm purrhaps AC: :33 < but i still f33l bad AT: i'LL FIND ANOTHER PLAYER, iT'S NOT A BIG DEAL, AT: gOOD LUCK, bEING, AT: oN THE BLUE TEAM, AC: :33 < ok thanks :((

But, perhaps most strikingly, is the way he leaves his good friend Gamzee on read after Gamzee suggests... gasp... intimacy.

TC: WhEn wE Up aNd sTaRt tO KiCk aT ThIs rEd TeAm NoIsE, TC: YoU ShOuLd mAkE YoUr wAy tO GeT YoUr hAnG On aT My hIvE. AT: oH, yES, tOTALLY, TC: We cOuLd sPlIt a tIn oF ThE PiMpEsT SnEeZe i gOt oN HaNd, BaKeD Up aLl sPeCiAl fOr yOu. TC: AnD ThEn mAyBe mAkE OuT A LiTtLe. AT: uH, TC: ;o) AT: , AT: ,,

It freaks him out, and he's never seen hanging with Gamzee again. And this is a huge shame, because not only is Tavros one of the only people who is nice to Gamzee and appreciates his religious beliefs, but Gamzee is one of the only people who hears out Tavros's genuine insecurities and desires without making fun of him:

AT: tHE ONLY THING MORE FLY THAN THE RHYMES, AT: i'M SAYING TO EXPRESS ALL MY MALICES, AT: iS THE ABILITY HE HAD i WISH WAS MINE, AT: iNSTEAD OF i GUESS, THIS EXCESSIVE PARALYSIS, TC: (lOoK OuT FoR ThE HoOk bRo!!!) TC: GeT OfFa tHoSe wHeElS, gEt oFfA ThOsE WhEeLs. TC: If mIrAcLeS ArEn't fAkE He'lL GeT OfFa tHoSe wHeElS! AT: bUT HIGH, iN THIS CASE, hAS DOUBLE THE MEANING, AT: iT MEANS HE CAN FLY, pLUS DOES HIGH SELF ESTEEMING, AT: tHAT'S TWO THINGS HE HAS, tHAT i'D RATHER WERE MINE, AT: hIS TWO FLAPPY WINGS, aND hIS BIG HEALTHY SPINE, AT: oOPS, AT: tHAT'S THREE THINGS,,, TC: GeT OfFa tHoSe wHeElS, gEt oFfA ThOsE WhEeLs. TC: If mIrAcLeS ArEn't fAkE He'lL GeT OfFa tHoSe wHeElS!

(Compare:)

PAT: i'M SORT OF, lYING ON vRISKA'S FLOOR RIGHT NOW, PAT: lIKE, iN HER BLOCK, PAT: lYING DOWN, PAT: uHH, yOU KNOW, bECAUSE i CAN'T WALK, CCG: OH NO SHIT REALLY??? CCG: YOU CAN'T BE SERIOUS, WHEN DID THIS HAPPEN.

He isn't able to do a REAL self-confidence at least until he gives Vriska the bird and flies away, for the first time asserting that he thinks she's an asshole and doesn't actually want or need her validation or approval. After that, he's able to convince a ghost army to follow him using friendship and asking and niceness. Breath powers! Also Page powers! Also actual self-esteems! Although I don't personally hold anything after Game Over as anything more than soft canon, I think we can still see a fairly straightforward character arc reach a natural conclusion there.

But as to why I specifically think him and Gamzee are destined for pale, despite what appears to be flushed leanings from Gamzee's end, and despite the fact that I usually believe what the comic tells me, is because what brief few interactions we see between them are very much pale in nature, and it would be kind of narratively bizarre if Gamzee were set up to have a failed moirallegiance - the quadrant described as "soul mates" - without managing to find his real soul mate after. And who's it going to be? Equius? Or the guy that Gamzee literally says he feels "at chill with" talking to?

Gamzee kissing Tavros's corpse is often used as evidence for his desire for flushed, but I disagree - however Gamzee feels about Tavros romantically, kissing a dead player is how you revive them, so it reads to me - especially given how sad Gamzee is about Tavros dying - more like a desperate act to bring him back. Lest we forget, Terezi also gives it a try, and Karkat kisses Kanaya for the same reason - the reality that their extra lives are gone hasn't sunk in yet for these 13 year old kids, so they must try revival even if they know it won't work.

Moreover, Gamzee indirectly describes Tavros as his "best friend," after having called Karkat that through most of the game, and having an implied pale crush on Karkat during that time.

TC: YOU MOTHER FUCKING KNOW, BROTHER. TC: its the fuckin puppet. TC: THE ONE THAT'S ALL GOT TO BE MY BEST FUCKING FRIEND I GOT NOW. TC: now that my other buddy managed to be having his head chopped off. :oC

Moreover moreover, what Karkat cites as being the cause of their moirallegiance's failure is Gamzee's religious beliefs:

KARKAT: HE STARTED GETTING SO UNBELIEVABLY SELF SATISFIED AND PIOUS, LIKE WAY MORE THAN HE EVER WAS BEFORE. KARKAT: LIKE HE'S JUST SO COMPLETELY CONVINCED HE'S FOUND HIS CALLING, THAT THIS SESSION IS THE GATEWAY TO THE PROMISED LAND WHERE HE'LL FULFILL HIS DESTINY. KARKAT: HE'S SO CAUGHT UP IN HIS IDIOTIC SCHEMES HE COULDN'T GIVE A FUCK ABOUT ME ANYMORE.

Which are explicitly what Tavros invites Gamzee to speak on, and appreciates:

AT: yEAHHH, yOU CAN TALK ABOUT THE CLOWN THINGS, wHICH, AT: i DON'T REALLY UNDERSTAND EVER, bUT THAT'S OKAY, AT: bECAUSE IT'S KIND OF FUNNY, AT: wHEREAS, i'LL ADDRESS SOME TOPICS PERTAINING TO MY INTERESTS, AT: aND i GUESS, pERSONAL MOTIFS, TC: YeAh! FuCk YeAh, ThAt Be HoW sHiT's AlL uSuAlLy Up AnD fUcKiN lOcKeD bRo. ... AT: dO YOU HAVE TIME FOR, mY MIRACLES, rELIGIOUS FRIEND, }:) TC: Do yOu gEt yOuR NoTiCe oN Of tHe mIrAcLeS AT: sO MANY, uH, gRATUITOUS EXPLETIVE, mIRACLES, tHE MAGIC MOTHER, aLSO eXPLETIVE, mIRACLES, TC: FuCk yEs, HeReS WhErE ThE SlAm tUrNs tO NoThIn bUt hOnKs... TC: HoNk hOnK HoNk hOnK HoNk hOnK HoNk TC: HoNk hOnK HoNk hOnK HoNk hOnK HoNk AT: HONK, TC: FuUuUuUuUuUuUuUuUuCk! AT: iT'S LESS APPROPRIATE FOR ME TO DO THE HONKS, tHAN YOU, bUT THAT WAS STILL GREAT, TC: YeAh, BrO. yEaH!!! AT: tHE SLAMS WERE TRULY PRIME, aND, AT: yOUR RELIGIOUS VIEWS, tHOUGH i DON'T SHARE THEM, aRE, AT: rEASONABLY INSPIRATIONAL, AT: i THINK i'M IN THE PROCESS OF RELEASING AT LEAST ONE TEAR,

But also in Tavros's single conversation with Gamzee, we see Tavros stand up to a highblood:

TC: :o) HoNkHoNkHoNkHoNkHoNk AT: }:o), hEH, TC: hAhAh FuUuUuCk, YoU sToLe My FuCkIn NoSe BrO! TC: WhAt GoT yOu EvEn Up ThE gUmPtIoN tO aLl FuCkIn Do ThE sHiT lIkE tHaT? AT: eRR, i DON'T KNOW, iT'S JUST, AT: kIND OF THE OBVIOUS THING TO DO, AT: sTICK THE CIRCLE IN FRONT OF THE DOTS, aND, bEHIND THE BENDY ONE, AT: pLUS, oH YEAH, mY HORNS, TC: hAhAhAhA. AT: mAYBE WE CAN SLAM ABOUT IT, ... TC: fUuUuCk, So FuCkIn FrEsH. TC: YoU nEeD tO bE sLaPpEd FuCkIn SiLlY wItH a MoUtH lIkE tHaT! hAhA. AT: aND, iF YOU GOT A PROBLEM WITH IT, AT: tHEN i SUGGEST YOU GO AND RAP IT DUDE,

He feels safe with Gamzee, enough to take a bit of an attitude with him, enough to open up about his insecurities about his disability and how much he wishes he was like Pupa Pan, and Gamzee explicitly states he feels calm when he talks to Tavros, which is the stated function of a moirallegiance.

TC: Me tOo, BrO, yOu mOtHeR FuCkIn kNoW ThErE Be sOmE Of mY EyE's RoYaL JeLlY To gO WiTh yOuR EmOtIoNaL pEaNuT BuTtEr. AT: wHOA, aHA, hA, TC: ThIs iS BeAuTiFuL, dUdE, i fEeL So aT ChIlL WiTh yOu. AT: yEAH, fRIENDLINESS WITH YOU IS, pRETTY MUCH ALWAYS NICE, aND FUN TO HAVE,

And the thing is, trolls are constantly getting into moirallegiances when they want to be flushed (Eridan, Kanaya), having palecrushes when they want to be friends (Gamzee), and winding up flushed with their moirail (pale solfef is forshadowed in the same breath as pale erikar, and they don't seem to confirm a matespritship until after Sollux's actual flushed crush, Aradia, explodes). Especially for Gamzee, who was neglected by his lusus and struggles with social interaction to the point where he feels like he has to hide his real self (casteist beliefs, constant talk of religion and murder, which, by the way, come out when he talks to Tavros), it'd be easy for him to mistake the "instinctive attraction" of moirallegiance for the passions of matespritship.

These thoughts are all pretty disorganized - I'm really sorry, it's super late/early for me and I'm exhausted for other reasons - but I hope that that . was what you wanted? hahah

[ralibo14]

The Promised Neverland season 1 rewatch: Addictions

I'm going to do this before analysing the second half of season one. Because this is important.

Ray's role as the Traitor a.k.a Mother & Son or Caretaker & Cattle:

First let's go back to Krone's death a little bit.

⬆️⬆️ This is the scene your honour! ⬆️⬆️

This is the scene which can still fuck me up emotionally. This and Norman's adoption.

Isabella telling Ray that;

“I got rid of her”

And Ray immediately knowing what that means. His wide eyed stare as he realise that by writing that note, he got Krone killed and their plans revealed 🥺.

Ray is silently panicking and that's why he runs into the Sister's room instead of signalling to Gilda and Don. Then Isabella locks the door, which was actually a genius move on her part. Getting Ray trapped in a windowless room was... chef's kiss.

But I can't help but think about the internal struggle both Ray and Isabella gone through during this 'betrayal' (Somehow I always end up here, aren't I? Yapping about their complicated relationship. Sorry can't help it😅😭).

In my opinion, the Ray's spying was a way they both could cope with their situation in the House. Mother and Son or Caretaker and Cattle ⬅️ This is their struggle or their curse. Are they allowed to get a genuine and caring relationship? Of course not. Do they settle with anything close to that? Heck yes! Like here for example...

The delivery of Ray's last present, the camera holds such a meaningful place in my mind. The whole scene having this night time, bittersweet and sonder tone to it.

Orange and purplish blue being complementary to each other but also representing both Ray and Isabella. Isabella is in front of a dark background while the light of the lamp brightening up the wall behind Ray. It shows what roles they started playing. Villain and survivor/saviour. (because Ray did everything just so he can save Emma and Norman. Talk about a self sacrificing idiot, am I right?)

I also appreciate how they both forgot about wearing their emotional masks for a second when they were in Mom's office. Ray genuinely smiles at the first time and for one expresses his personal interests and Isabella looks away guilty. Knowing that she has to betray this fragile little thrust Ray has in her in order to encourage him and Emma to actually escape. (Because let's be honest... If Ray thought that his mother cared about him even a tiny bit he wouldn't want to leave her behind).

And Ray actually looks at her! He is deep down so desperately hopeful, but all he sees is Isabella turning away/distancing herself so of course he stops smiling and puts back his mask of indifference.

Emma's and Norman's Plan set into motion:

Haha anime! Ha ha Shirai and Demizu! Well played, very well played! Cause only a rewatcher can notice what is really going on in this scene.

This is right after Mom broke Emma's leg and as they go back to the House you can see the other kids reaction. Phil wide eyed stare and his worried expression shows how much he admires and looks up to his big sis, Emma. He is concerned of what happened to her. The olders on the other hand...

...They are frigtened, absolutely frightened, terrified even. Why? Because Emma and Norman already set their plan into motion. Because Nat, Anna, Lanni and Thoma already got brought to eaves drop to the conversation with Krone. They already know who Mom really is and what Emma's 'accident' actually represents.

Shout out for them! They are also amazing actors as they quickly recovered from the shock and put on an act so Isabella wouldn't know that they are also involved in the escape.

_____________________________________________

Okay that's all for now. I hope you are all doing fine and that I don't bore you with these lengthy posts. Byee, see you later 🥰

[azelmaandeponine]

I enjoy exploring different kinds of relationships in media and analyzing it, it makes me think and reflect. When I first saw the whole Bill and Ford thing it interested me.

There were definitely interesting takes on it in the fandom at the beginning, but now it’s expanded so much and become so popular I feel like the point has been lost.

Firstly, the widespread romanization of it sets me off. Maybe it was just me (?) but I thought it was understood that even though it was a “ship” and the “point” of it was that it’s toxic… I dunno. I have observed the abuse is either overlooked or romanticized, and both bother me. Because if you really stop to think about it for more than a minute you realize how absolutely awful and horrifying it must have been to endure that situation.

And I am of the perspective that wanting to explore these relationships is not a bad thing. It is complex, it can be interesting. You can learn a lot about the characters and how they think, process the world, view themselves, their relationships with other characters– and sometimes even yourself. But unfortunately a lot of that nuance can get easily lost and thought I don’t doubt there are some very interesting things out there that take the time to do that, in the more widespread fandom it gets oversimplified and lost.

Don’t even get me started on those who think they should reconcile/get back together. Maybe they don’t know how it’s like to be in an abusive relationship, but getting back in contact with a person who was abusive in your life is an awful idea. Even if the person HAS actually genuinely changed (which… yeah I don’t know about you but I cannot see Bill changing in any significant way that would even make this an option) for the sake of the others sanity and ability to move forward in life.

I really like Ford, as someone who is autistic I see myself in him. I know a lot of people don’t like Ford (for some reasons more valid than others). But regardless- on the subject of his past relationship with Bill, the amount of victim blaming is baffling. It’s giving “they were mutually abusive” kind of thing. Like yes, we can point out, even criticize how it probably isn’t a good idea to recite ancient enchantments outloud, or whatever you wanna point out. But I actually don’t care what he did to get himself in that situation. He was vulnerable, tricked, taken advantage of and mistreated (to put it lightly). This guy is in your MIND, in your head- literally! Not only did he psychologically torment him, mess with his literal thoughts and memories, hurt his body. I cannot imagine how badly that can mess you up. Now imagine after all that, after literally killing the guy, he’s like… Sixer come back. Even if he had changed for the better (which he has NOT like i said before) why would you want to associate yourself with someone who hurt you (and others!) so badly. And even if some codependent part of you did want it back, I’d argue that’s even more of a reason to stay away because that can only lead to things getting worse.

I’m not going anywhere else with this anymore, just a rant. Thanks for reading lol

You're welcome.

And I agree. I DO think the abusive nature of their relationship deserves exploration, and it IS canon Ford was abused by Bill. Explore that. Explore Ford's trauma. Explore how he heals from that.

It's when people act like it's a cute romantic ship, or boil it down to "toxic/mutually toxic"...like no. It is straight up horrifically abusive, with Bill as the abuser and Ford as the victim. Reading Journal 3 was unsettling in regards to Bill and Ford's relationship because of the abuse.

Reading TBOB was terrifying because of the abuse and torture. I was legitimately afraid for Ford during...certain parts...of TBOB. And TBOB is, you know, a book.

I can't imagine what it would be like to actually live through an experience like that.

And yet people continue to victim blame Ford, and it makes me want to pull my hair out. The way people victim blame Ford because he summoned Bill despite the vague cave wall warnings is just basically them going "you were warned he was bad news, so it's your fault for dating him in the first place". I think we all agree that's a horrible thing to say to a domestic violence victim. And given that Ford's relationship with Bill has been paralleled in canon to an abusive relationship, the same can be applied here. It's a terrible thing to say about Ford, who was literally abused by Bill. Abuse is never the victim's fault.

And yeah, getting back with your abuser is NEVER a good idea.

And while people CAN change, Bill shows no desire to. That was...pretty obvious in TBOB. He refuses to change, so I really don't see him as redeemable.

Honestly the fandom's victim blaming of Ford is giving me flashbacks to the BMC fandom and NOT in a good way.

[tokoyamisstuff]

Incursio Infernalis

[latin] - "hellish invasion", a phrase used during an exorcism to describe a demonic possession

18+ / 5,3k. words / Alexander Anderson x f! Reader / not proofread

-> Prequel <- (not necessary to understand the story)

Synopsis: An Incubus takes over your mentor and unveils his impure secret.

Warnings: Dubious consent, unprotected sex, loss of virginity, angst, blood, biting, knive play, bit of dirty talk/slut shaming, breeding kink, threats, abuse, self-harm, probably more...

⚠️Dead Dove - Do Not Eat⚠️

"When will Father Anderson return?"

"Very soon." You smile down to the children that had gathered on the cozy carpet front of the chimney, closing the book you had read to them until now. "He is still on a mission, but he promised to be back tonight. And he also told me that he'll bring you lots of gifts!"

"Can we stay up until he's here?" one of the older children asks excited, and all the others join in, babbling about preparing a 'welcome-back-party' for their beloved caregiver.

An adoring sight, never failing to warm your heart.

"I don't mean to spoil the fun" you interrupt their cheering, clasping your hands together in a placating manner. "But I fear it'll be far too late for you to bear. How about we let him sleep in and make a nice breakfast together? I bet he'd be delighted."

"Okay..." they half-whine, not seeming very enthusiastic and yet their manners deny them any objection. After all, Anderson teaches them strict but loving nonetheless.

One of the many things you admire about the Paladin.

After the evening routine and tucking them all into bed, you hear your foster-children whisper and giggle behind the closed bedroom door. You didn't mean to eavesdrop, but their little voices echo through the hallway nonetheless.

"Father Anderson and Miss Y/L/N are almost like a real mom and dad!" One of them declares happily, and all of the other kids aggree. You smile to yourself long after you had reached your own humble chamber, a familiar warmth encoating you as you repeat their words in your mind, reminiscing about the past.

Yes. Despite everything that had happened, you finally have a home. People you love and might even dare calling family. It's all you ever dreamt of and so much more.

Truth be told: When you first met Iscariot's most valuable asset, you were completely and utterly terrified. Back then you could've never imagined what a kind and gentle soul lied beneath this bloodthirsty lunatic.

Anderson had found you to be the last survivor of a vampire's attack - most likely due to your virginhood - and instantly fell into a murderous rampage. The man killed anything and anyone in sight, slaughtering himself through eldritch horrors and Ghouls alike while laughing manically, as if he was having the time of his life.

The situation itself was already traumatic and bizarre beyond belief, but when you saw the Priest's limbs getting torn off just to grow back in the blink of an eye, you were sure he was just as much of a monster as the ones taking you captive.

You thought this was nothing more than a fight among predators, and you'd continue to be the doomed prey nonetheless.

The sight of him was forever carved into your brain: He was covered in blood and viscera, strained breaths visible as feeble mist in the cold warehouse when he finally turned his attention to you. Realizing you were still paralyzed in fear, he kneeled down to your height, making himself appear harmless - an impossible task for a man of his calibre.

As soon as he reached out for you a distraught scream escaped your pursed lips, and you shuffled away until your back had contact with the metal wall behind.

"My my" he spoke, voice gravely and laced with genuine concern. "I am a man of god, my dear. You have nothing to worry about."

"Lies" your survival instinct was practically hammering against your skull, but what could you ever do against the literal behemoth right in front of you? It was hopeless, so you decided to just give in to your fate.

Still you hissed when he dared touching you, squeezing your eyes shut to prepare for the inevitable - but instead of pain, a strange warmth encoated your trembling form. It was his coat that he draped over you, gloved hands only briefly running up and down the sides of your shoulders before giving them a reassuring pat.

"Poor gal. Are you hurt?" You mutely shake your head, too exhausted to speak. The smile he then presented to you was more frightening than soothing, a snarl with his unusual sharp canines that made you wonder if he was not entirely human after all. "Then please let me accompany you home. It's the least I can do."

Home... There was no such thing, not even before all of this. You had led an empty life, devoid of any meaningful connections.

Maybe it was the shock that made you think about such trivial things, or maybe his calming aura made you comfortable enough to open up for the first time in your life.

But now that the imminent threat to your life was gone, realization hit you like a tidal wave: You don't want to go back.

"I-" you stop yourself, feeling a suffocating lump form in your throat. "I don't have a home. I have no one."

There was no way of reading his expression until then, the reflection of his glasses hiding away his eyes. But the corner of his mouth pointed downwards, and there were deep wrinkles appearing on his forehead with every word that dropped from your lips, as if he was contemplating something.

"I'm...I'm sorry, that was a stupid thing to say. Thank you for saving me, really. Forget what I just sai-"

Before you could even finish your rambling, the man had picked you up out of a whim, holding you firmly but careful in his arms. Not really something you ecpected a priest to do, but compared to your earlier torment it felt not as much like a fever dream.

Only now you were able to see the deep blue of his eyes, an oddly calming sensation in the gentleness of his gaze. This time his smile is less forced, and you decide you like it after all.

"Well, I'm always glad to help a lost soul in need. In any way I can, and I assure you I'm good at more than just slaying beasts." He snorts at his own joke before jubilantly explaining "I own the orphanage Ferdinant Lukes, a safe place for children that have lost their families due to the occult. It's very secluded and doesn't have much to offer, but we can surely make room for another helping hand. If that's what you want, I mean."

The offer catched you off guard, especially since you haven't even started processing what happened beforehand. And yet you quietly aggree, tears of relief wettening his shirt as he carried you away to a blissful life.

That was four years ago, and not once you regretted your choice.

He assured you that he never brought you here out of pity, but because you reminded him of himself. Once he was also lost and without purpose, and he admired your strenght to accept help and not give up.

You sigh dreamily as you fall backwards onto your mattress, picking up the only belonging you have on the nightstand. Its a photo of you, Anderson and 'your' children during a field trip to a christian museum. Letting your fingers run across the glass frame, you can't help but notice that Anderson has saved you in more ways than just one.

But your gratitude was a dangerous soil, and over time it had blossomed into more than just innocent admiration.

As a priest he had taken a vow of chastity, and there is no way a devout catholic like himself would ever give in to such temptations, let alone be receptive to them at all.

Approaching him in this way would definetly endanger the life you had built at his side. And isn't the way things are almost the same as a relationship, if not even better?

Doesn't seem like he'll be back any time soon. Maybe you should go to bed. Usually you'd wait for his return, make some coffee and listen to his stories - but given your current sentiments, it was for the better to postpone this until a good night's sleep returns your common sense.

Just when you had snug under the blanket, a faint noise from the other room makes you jolt up again. "That damn cat..." you think, staring through the door into the pitch black room - but then you see something that makes your stomach turn.

The window stood wide open, and you were 100% sure you had never opened it today. It was the midst of winter, after all. Come to think of it, you remember letting the cat outside in the garden hours ago.

"So you're really still awake."

You shriek at the unexpected grim voice, only now noticing the tall silhouette hiding in a dark corner of the room. When did this person enter, how, and especially why?

Since you got no means to defend yourself with, you decide the best step of action is to turn on your bedside lamp and make out the intruder.

"Anderson...?" You tilt your head to the side, visibly confused. In an instant, all of your tension disappears into thin air. "What are you doing in here? How improper, even for your standards."

His lack of reaction made you uneasy, but he did have a lot of weird mannerisms. You got used to them over time.

You cross your arms in front of your chest, narrowing your eyes at the man. Usually, he found your pitiful attempts at scolding him rather cute than anything, but that wouldn't stop you. "Would you mind waiting outside so I can get dressed in dignity?"

Instead of answering, he cackled. Not his usual, weird but heartfelt laugh, no - he burst out in an insane fit that was almost intimidating if you didn't know him any better. "No, that won't be necessary."

Something was off, you could feel it.

And where is that trademark accent of his?

While you trusted Father Anderson with your life, it could be kind of creepy when he didn't snap out of his rush of the hunt. You especially didn't want the children to see him this way.

"Hey, Anderson" you coo, approaching him like one would a rabid animal. "I'll make you some tea to calm you down. How'd you like that?"

"So delightfully naive" he eventually spoke, firm steps menacingly stepping into the dim light. "I'm going to enjoy this."

You gasped when your eyes met his, but instead of the usual icy blue staring back at you were crimson red irises.

A demonic possession.

Immediately your mind started racing. What happened? How is that even possible?

...and why is he here of all places?

Dread creeps up your consciousness as your imagination conjures countless atrocities, all committed by the man you believed to be indomitable.

"You know" as if the fiend could read your thoughts, he started explaining. "He has an exceptionally strong will...but I knew it'd be worth wringing out his mind to find you."

"M-Me?" you wanted to distract him, reaching for the rosary around your neck - Anderson once gifted it to you for protection. Maybe if you ram it somewhere... "But why-"

"Shh..." In an instant he leaped towards you, one palm harshly cupping your mouth as the other tore the wooden ornament apart. On it's stead he wrapped his long fingers around your throat, the lack of oxygen making you dizzy. "I like the feisty ones, but you shouldn't try anything funny. We won't want to wake the children, don't we?"

No. NonononoNO! Not the children. Please. Anything but them.

"Don't worry, sweetheart..." The familiarity of his voice hurt. It was smooth and sweet as honey, just as you knew it. But his actions were the exact opposite. "If you behave, they'll get to live. I don't have enough time for both, you know? And you're my priority."

The man wearing Anderson's face had you pinned against the wall, a knee prying open your legs and nestling high up between your thighs. You feel his tongue slide across your chin up to your cheeks, savouring the taste of your tears. A strangled sob fills the room, but you needed to stay strong. For the kids. For Anderson.

"Father, please..." you hiccup, and he increases the pressure to your neck just enough to be uncomfortable. "Oh, you want to play Priest and Harlot huh? I like that."

You kick your feet in the air, but to no avail - and your struggle only excites him further. "Anderson! You need to fight it! I know you're still in there!"

"Oh, he sure is" the demon taunts in amusement, "Watching, hearing, feeling" he emphasizes the last word with a squeeze of your sides, "Everything I do to you will be as if he did it himself. So let's give him a show, shall we?"

You shiver.

"Too bad you can't hear him scream." He grins manically as he taps against his forehead. "The undefeated executioner begging me to spare you. Delightful."

"Why-" You wanted to ask why he chose you, but were dreading the answer. "Why are you doing this?"

The demon shrugged. "I may be unable to defeat him, but I can hurt him in other ways. Through you."

He lifts you up as if you weight nothing at all, harshly tossing you onto the mattress. You squeal and writhe as he climbs on top of you, his weight suffocating. He balls a fist in your hear, janking your head up and forcing you to look at him. "See, I'm an Incubus. You know what that is?"

Of course you do. Given time you learned a lot about the different otherworldly species. It's a male-presenting demon that mates with innocent women and eventually kills them afterwards.

The thought should terrify you, but the only thing present in your mind is that they are nocturnal, and it's already close to dawn. So if you drag this out, he definetly wont be able to harm anyone else.

You need to endure whatever he does to you. You owe this to Anderson.

"Maybe I should kill you while I'm at it?" One of the ceremonial bayonets is suddenly pressed against your throat, enough to draw blood without breaking the skin too severely. The scent makes him groan, and soon the sting of the blade was replaced by the ache of his teeth sinking in your neck. "Mhh...no" he licks the liquid from his lips, "It'll be way more rewarding to know he'll have to look into your eyes every single day after what I make him do to you."

The demon sure takes an agonizingly long time, using the bayonett to cut off the buttons of your nightgown but growing impatient and tearing it apart with his bare hands.

You bite hard on your bottom lip when you hear your underwear get torn with a snap, but he pries your hands away each time you try to shield yourself from his piercing glare.

"You know" he speaks between gritted teeth, using them to pry off his gloves. His hands are cold and calloused, touch sending a shiver down your spine. "It's only so easy for me because he wants it."

Goosebumps rose on your skin as his fingers traced their way from your collarbone over your breasts and down to settle between your thighs. You furrow your brows in confusion, heart fluttering against your will but reminding yourself to not fall for his cheap tricks.

"Don't believe me, eh?" he chuckles darkly, continuing his monologue. "If only you knew how often your so-called holy father has touched himself while thinking of you- oh yes you did!" He seems to speak to the man trapped inside of his own mind and you can't help but feel bad for Anderson despite your own situation.

"So what?" you snap back at the fiend, "Shut up and do what you must. But I believe in the Paladin. He will definetly send you back straight to hell, sooner or later!" Your gaze then softens as you adress your dear friend. "Anderson, it's alright...whatever he says or does, don't blame yourself. I won't."

That made your assaulter's eyes widen in realization. "Oh...you're in love with him, aren't ya?"

Silence.

"Such a little whore" he deduces at your lack of an answer, "Trying to seduce a priest...and for him to be corrupted that easily? Pathetic."

You opened and closed your mouth a few times, but couldn't grasp the words that crossed your mind. Not that it'd be any help to your situation either way.

"Don't you want to confess? That'd be fun." You frantically shake your head, the little defiance you could allow himself, but he still had the upper hand nonetheless. "Do it or I'll kill you with his bare hands."

"...forgive me, father."

"Forgive me father aaaand?" he mocks playfully as he settles between your legs. You swallow harshly, tears dwelling in your eyes. "Forgive me father, for I have sinned."

"Good girl" he breathed in your ear, and hearing those words in Anderson's voice involuntarily sends a wave of arousal straight to your core. "Now to your punishment."

"P-Please-" all of your earlier fight left you when you saw him unzip his pants. His cock was proportional to his inhuman size, which both astonished and worried you. "Its too big, it won't fit."

"Well, sadly the bible forbids any foreplay, so no prep for you. Don't wanna go out of character, yes?" You lash out at him, try to push against his chest, but he is way too strong.

Just pretend it's him, just pretend it's him...

You arch your back to adjust to his lenght, his eyes rolling into the back of his head at the sensation of pushing into you.

And then he stills - when he sees you bleed.

"Don't tell me you're-"

"Yes" you answer truthfully, something deep inside of you hoping that it might help Anderson to regain control again. "I am- was untouched..."

However instead of snaping Anderson our of it, the demon's eyes haze even deeper with lust. "Today's my lucky day, it seems! Don't worry, unlike your friend here I'm experienced. You should thank me."

His mouth twists to a terrifying grin when he adds "Ruining you will certainly break him, I'm sure."

There was no mercy in his pace, the way he was using you for his pleasure. It burned, sending every nerve on fire in a mixture of arousal and fear.

No matter how hard you fight it, no matter how wrong and twisted it may be, the man in front of you was still Anderson - so it didn't take long until your pleas and cries slowly but steadily turned into lewd moans.

"Yeah" he utters countless profanities in between animalistic sounds, "I knew you'd enjoy this, you little bitch. You were so wet for him before I even started."

Why does the abomination that tormented you have to wear the face of your beloved savior?

You bury your face into your hands, hiding away in shame at your body's natural reaction. But he fiercely grabs your wrists and pins them over your head. "Look. At. Me."

He put one hand under your navel, feeling himself bulge you from the inside. "The Paladin fantasized about putting a child into this womb" he stated gloatingly, enjoying the way your face drops in panic. "Should we make his wish come true?"

"N-No, don't-" And yet your legs already draped over his shoulders, making him enter you even deeper.

You claw at his back as he roughly pounds into you, and yet find yourself caressing the same spot you just attacked. He looked, sounded, smelled just like Anderson, and even though you could never be able to even scratch him, you didn't have the heart to fight.

Anderson shouldn't have to remember you suffering at his hands.

So instead your fingers rake through his hair, cracking a saddened smile as you reassure him, murmuring sweet affirmations his way. Soon you come undone, his name dropping from your lips like a sacred prayer. He finishes close after you, spilling as much as possible inside of your quivering folds.

You were so caught in the afterwaves of your orgasm that you didn't even notice the sun was raising on the horizon, the first rays threatening to brighten this darkest night.

"That sure was a treat" the demon spoke self-satisfied, "May we meet again."

He kisses you. Even that first time he stole from you, tainting the memory with his vile deeds. It is harsh and demanding, tongue entering your mouth just as violently as he had done before.

And then the tension in his body loosens, falling slack on top of you. His lips barely ghost yours now, careful and tender before he pulls away.

"A-Alexander?" It's the first time you're adressing him with his first name and if it wasn't for such a sorrowful occasion, he'd be able to enioy the way it sounded in your voice.

The red in his eyes had ebbed away, and now you're sure he's blinking back tears as he looks down at the aftermath, your trembling form beneath him. Face stained with tears, bites and bruises scattered across your body.

Wanting to give you space he almost stumbles from the bed, finally giving you the opportunity to cover yourself with the blanket. For a while, both of you just stared at each other in strained silence, but you could almost physically feel him spiral into despair.

"Father, are you-"

"I'll have the nuns come and tend to your wounds" he declares almost matter-of-factly, practically fleeing the scene.

That was the last you'd hear or see from him in a while.

They tell you that for a whole week, he would ram nails into his hands like stigmata to punish himself. He would mostly lock himself away in his room, and wouldn't talk except for citing concerning bible verses.

So far so in character. Anderson has always been melodramatic. But what really worries you is the fact that he apparently lets his duty slack. His priesthood means everything to him, you might even say he is fanatic.

[James 1:14+15]

"But every man is tempted, when he is drawn away of his own lust, and enticed.

Then desire when it has conceived gives birth to sin, and sin when it is fully grown brings forth death."

A knock on your door breaks your pondering, and you call whoever it is inside. Even after this traumatizing experience you had refused to lock your door, your belief in Iscariot and Anderson unwavering.

Some visitors would be a welcomned distraction, since the nuns refused to let you go to work again already. You weren't really injured besides for minor cuts and bruises, yet they insisted you allow your spirit to heal just the same.

Quickly the room is swarmed by a hoarde of children, all surrounding the bed you had currently made yourself cozy to read in. You crack a warm smile and try to answer all of them, even though they were talking simultaneously out of excitement. They brought you selfmade sweets and drawings, telling you how worried they were and how much you were missed.

Despite the noise you make out another sound mingling from behind, and you quickly realized who those footsteps belonged to. The kids waved for him to come and he sheepishly entered, as always having to crouch to fit through the doorframe.

They had to practically drag him inside, several children tugging on the sleeve of his coat and pushing onto his back to make him come closer than the wall opposite to you he had chose to stay at.

"It's good to see you, father" you encourage him with some affectionate words, which he gladly reciprocated. "The same goes for you."

"We got some great news!" the orphans cheer in unison, "Father Anderson told us he had torn apart the demon that hurt you! And not only that, he gave it a long, excruciating demise!"

"Oh, is that so?" You quirked a brow at this choice of words coming from gradeschoolers. He likes to scare the younglings so they won't fall astray from their path, but you really need to have a word with him about age-appropriate storytelling. "That's...wonderful."

"We've implemented new precautions" Anderson reluctantly added after clearing his throat, still remaining a safe distance to not make you uncomfortable. "So something like...that won't happen again."

The Paladin's smile was solely to appease to the children, but it did not nearly reach his eyes. There was a profound sadness in them that made your chest narrow, and the dark circles under his eyes were evidence of worsened insomnia.

"I appreciate your hard work" you say, "And it was very considerate to not come alone."

"Not like I had a choice" he sighed, "The flock begged me to accompany them for days." That made you snicker. An enigma like him, unable to refuse his protégés any wish.

"Alexander Anderson!" a strict voice cut right through the commotion, making all of you flinch. "What did you even think coming here?"

The Reverend Mother was probably the only person that did not fear the Paladin - quite the opposite even. The man in front of her was still seen as the unruly child she once raised in this very orphanage.

"Please, Holy Mother, let it be" you assure her, "It's alright. I needed some interaction. It was refreshing, really!"

She shot him a look full of contempt, but surprisingly yielded. "Come, children. It's close to bedtime and Y/N needs to rest."

"Stay" you ask firmly, as Anderson was just about to rush out with the others. "Let's talk. Please?'

For a while, he was rooted on spot, jaw clenching so hard one could hear his teeth about to crack. But then he turned around, every step towards you feeling like it takes an eternity. And while he seems composed on the outside, you could always detect the storm lying underneath.

Now that the children were gone, he allowed himself to let the mask slip - and you've never seen him so upset before, let alone regretful. Typically he doesn't care about collateral damage since his holy cause always justifies the means.

You smile up at him but he refuses to meet your eyes. "C'mon, take a seat."

Anderson's hands were neatly folded in his lap as he slouched down on the small stool by your bedside, the leather of his gloves creaking as he fondled with his thumbs. He was a perfect picture of misery like that, making himself as small as humanly possible and facing the floor.

For the first time, the priest had nothing to say. No witty advice, no bible quote, nothing.

How was he even supposed to tell you that it was never about carnal desire? It was so incredibly much more profound that only thinking about it made him painfully aware of the thorn his affection for you had struck into his heart.

"Do-" his bottom lip quivers with every syllable, "Do they know if you're with child?"

The question caught you off guard - the possibility of being pregnant was one of the things you had desperately tried to suppress those past few days. "Not yet" you state, against your best efforts unable to keep your voice from shaking. We'll find out in about two weeks."

That answer is enough for the dam to break down.

"I'm sorry, Y/N" he whines as he falls to his knees, face buried in his hands. "I'm so, so sorry."

"Don't be." You sit up onto the edge of the bed, unsure what to do or say. There's nothing that could turn back time either way. So you decide to cup his face in your hands, thumb running across the scar on his cheek before tugging his head onto your lap.

In every other moment he'd roll his eyes at you and rant about how you interpret the bible terribly wrong, but right now he soaked in your words like a plant in the desert.

"Cum peccato tibi odium esto, sed dilige peccantem."

(Lat. 'Hate the sin, but love the sinner'.)

"I have no right to ask for your forgiveness" he tries to repel the temptation of just cradling you in his arms, but you quickly deflect as well. "It's not up to you if I'll grant it to you. Father-"

"Don't call me by this title" he interrupts, "Lust is a cardinal sin, and I...defiled you. I am not worthy of carrying it anymore." It pained you to see him suffer for a sin he didn't commit, blaming himself because of an infatuation he never meant to act upon. "Punishing yourself won't change anything. I don't want you to forsake everything because of someone like me..."

"I will, and it is already decided." You blink in confusion, trying to make sense of his words. "I asked Maxwell to officially relieve me of my position. I'll stay the church's loyal servant and continue my work against the forces of darkness...but only like this I'm able to marry you."

That was certainly the last thing you expected him to say, the bewilderment knocking all air out of your lungs. You looked at him like a deer in the headlights, but he made a placating gesture. "Not like that, woman. It's solely to preserve your honor. We don't need to consummate, and you won't have to see me ever again."

As insane as he is, there is method to his madness. Anderson is very aware of his shortcomings, seeing himself as nothing but a beast that caged itself through religion. He always knew that in the end he was no better than the sinners he forced to repent.

But now that he got a taste of what comes closest to heaven, he is horrified by those haunting memories - because he finds himself enjoying parts of them, appeasing to some of his depraved fantasies.

It is not safe for you to be around him anymore. He needs to send you away, somewhere he can never find you.

"But..." you sniveled and he finally looks at you, "But I want to stay here! With the children, with you!" In your exasperation you tackle hug him, clawing at the hem of his shirt. "This is my home, you are my home! I don't want to go!"

His arms only hover over your shaking body, retracting each time he reaches out for an embrace. You on the other hand cling onto him for dear life, afraid that he'll disappear forever if you let go.

"I love you" you whisper ashamed, "I love you, Alexander. Please don't leave me."

Anderson barks out a bitter laugh at the irony of fate, of him mocking the lord by refusing to believe that even the darkest moment could be a blessing in disguise.

Eventually, his arms wrap around you.

It was not the first time that this body has touched you, but the first time he did. And it was so different, so meek and careful, as if you were something delicate, made out of glass.

"It is not easy to put into words what I never allowed myself to feel" he confesses, closing his eyes and inhaling your scent. You nod slowly against his chest, humming understandingly.

"Everything the demon said, it was true. I catched myself watching you from the windowsill, admiring you from afar. I wrote you letters, poems, each time I was on a mission. Threw them into the fire. It helped grounding myself. But those emotions always came back stronger."

"I love you" you're willing to repeat as often as he needs to hear, "I love you, Alexander Anderson." Maybe he knew all along.

The former priest can't help but remind himself of the Book of Job - tested by god through disaster, yet rewarded for his preservance in the end. Now it's his turn to press you even closer against him, placing a soft kiss on your temple as he slowly accepted this twist of fate he still felt most undeserving for.

"God surely works in mysterious ways."

[drdemonprince]

CW: suicide, commitment, psychosis

My sibling is someone who unequivocally says being committed saved their life and was not inherently traumatic outside of the extremely traumatic mental health crisis that led to it. (However, our local psych ER/psych inpatient is probably one of the better ones and does not use any kind of restraints or force medication. They seem to have an okay track record explaining what the pills are and asking if the person can try them, which I get can still be coercive in some cases, but worked well with my sibling. Also, I was visiting them as much as I could every day, which they found really helpful, and I could keep my eye out for any issues.)

My sibling (~30) had a severe psychotic episode that doesn't quite fit any current DSM diagnosis. They went 0 to 100 from no suicidal ideation to actively attempting suicide in front of me due to delusions about being hunted by supernatural entities who would torture them. They finally could not sleep for days, and therefore I could not go to sleep because they'd try to kill themself. They were not dangerous to me intentionally, but one or both of us could have been hurt by me trying to take a weapon from them. They could not think at all outside of panic and delusions and had no short term memory, so they describe themself as having been incapable of understanding their condition. They weren't able to engage with any social interventions, because how would you have the time or bandwidth if you were living in terror of demons about to torture you and couldn't remember conversations from an hour ago?

They went to the hospital voluntarily after being stopped from attempting, but then they were committed because of aforementioned memory issues when they shortly informed the doctors they had to leave and kill themself. In a moment of lucidity, they were glad to be there, but they just couldn't stay lucid from moment to moment. Trying to get outpatient help in the weeks all this was escalating had been fruitless, with a lot of dismissive assholes, but these particular inpatient docs actually cared and asked how they were doing and figured out a dose of antipsychotics that made it all just... stop like a switch had been flipped.

Once they weren't operating under the terrifying delusions, they 100% did not want to die and were so relieved I stopped them and got help from others when it was becoming too dangerous to us both for me to intervene alone. I get that this kind of crisis is really different from living with chronic suicidal ideation or depression, which is something I personally deal with on a low level, but it was a genuine, terrifying situation where someone's expressed wishes were the opposite of what they wanted when they could understand their situation more fully.

I am allowed to share this, but if this is somehow not on anon, please delete it. Stigma about psychosis is REAL.

Yo this is super helpful, thank you for sharing. One of the trickier aspects of upholding disabled people's autonomy and taking a harm reductionist approach to suicide and self-harm is the fact that people in a state of psychosis may temporarily want something they would otherwise never want.

Though with some experience working through it with a caring and informed support network, it is possible to stand in for the person's stated desires and help them get through the period of lacking lucidity -- and of course psychosis can become a lot less destabilizing with time. i know someone who relies on a close friend to help ground them when they're having delusions and hallucinations -- a quick phone call is now enough to convince them they don't need to kill themselves, but that's after years of getting used to having psychotic states.

glad you and your sibling found solutions and made it through this okay.

[doberbutts]

genuine question coming from a place of good faith: is it wrong of me to be scared for transmascs right now? the harassment of transfems by both radfems and now even tumblr staff is fucking horrendous, but im terrified that due to so much recent discourse, people are going to blame transmascs for it and hate us even more than they already do.

i genuinely do care about transfems and it’s utterly ghoulish what’s going on right now, and it needs to stop, but I can’t help but get this awful sinking feeling over how it could affect transmascs by proxy — but I’m not sure if that’s wrong of me? is it wrong to worry about, should I be focusing entirely on transfems right now? is it transmisogynistic of me to be concerned about both of these things instead of just the one? I don’t know if what I’m feeling is wrong and it’s stressing me out so badly :(

I don't think it's ever wrong to be concerned about multiple real problems at once.

I have stayed pretty quiet on this situation, mostly just adding stuff to my queue if I agree with it but not weighing in personally. Mainly the reason is that I genuinely don't know anything about the trans woman in question who all of this fuss is for. But, I have seen other trans blogs get nuked for seemingly flimsy reasons, and I have seen self-professed terfs and radfems crowing victory with the latest victims of their mass-reporting.

And I think this is a bit of a PR nightmare, but I also think this site does have a serious harassment problem the staff does not take nearly seriously enough while it also seems to punish in equal amounts blogs that get harassed AND blogs that were literally just minding their own business, with really the main similarities being that they are blogs owned by people belonging to seriously marginalized and at-risk demographics talking about controversial topics like racism and LGBT politics.

It is really quite frustrating that there are now accusations that trans mascs talking about their own oppression are behind this, when not only is there no proof behind the claim but also even without a lot of direct knowledge I am seeing a certain demographic cheering that their mass reports worked and I gotta say, that demographic largely isn't trans mascs.

I also think there is a lot of hypocrisy floating around, because some of these blogs I'm seeing mad about this latest streak of bans are also people who themselves have advocated for harassing others and mass-reporting others who simply fail the vibe check while just existing as themselves, off this website. And while those users don't have the power of the literal CEO, they're failing to see how they've contributed to the problem of this website's user culture of "send the most vile thing you can think of en mass until they break and leave and good riddance".

I say this as someone who also has been harassed by a band of people wanting to chase me off of this website. It is why I don't interact much with dogblr anymore. I have had several people who joined in that dog pile later approach me and apologize, but the damage is still done and I am not interested in engaging with a "community" so willing to tear someone apart on flimsy accusations that weren't even true. I almost killed myself that night, I had a mental break and turned off my blog completely for several days just to make it stop, and returned to see people similarly crowing with delight that they'd successfully run me off. It's happened to me, and the perpetrators were almost entirely white cisgender women, and I have been very reliably told by multiple other people that both my blackness and my transgender status were significant motivators in their poor behavior.

This also happening in the wake of yet another transgender teen killed by their peers has left me simply mentally and physically exhausted. I began involving myself more in the transgender community on here because I wanted this to stop. I wanted to help uplift my siblings and get them out of the pit before the whole thing caved in. It's feeling very hopeless right now for trans kids around the world and in the mean time it's also apparently my fault a trans woman I don't even know got banned I guess..

In any case. Hold your head up. We'll get through this, somehow. We always have. We always will.

[wikitpowers]

Sending you my wildest TWP headcanon just because I can! (Heh.)

Picture this. Kit with gold wings. Gets revealed in the wildest way ever. In a fight, when there are too many demons or faeries or other magical foes to defeat and he and Ty are running while simultaneously trying to come up with a plan of action, Ty is calculating a way to survive that situation with most (all?) of their limbs intact, butKit isn't really listening to what Ty is saying, and then suddenly, he just sorta veers off-course, in the direction of a cliff, and Ty says as much, but Kit just pushes him out of the way, into safety, shouting, "Trust me, I know what I am doing!" and when Ty tries to shout at him to stop, Kit just says, "I'm sorry," and then fucking jumps off the cliff, and then, yep, you guessed it, after a moment, he flies back up, angel's wings sprouting out of his back, except they're gold instead of white, and Ty realises he wasn't sorry for trying to kill himself (because that was how it looked at the moment), but for keeping that part of who he was a secret.

Anyway, since I have appropriately embarrassed myself by sharing this, what is your wildest TWP headcanon? If it's more than one, make a list!

yes this reply is very much overdue i am so so sorry it took me so long to respond!!! BUT JESUS CHRIST ALMIGHTY WHAT THE HELL IS THIS THEORY???! I AM TOTALLY NOT OKAY! that would be so freaking angsty and just [screams at the top of my lungs]

kit revealing that he's the first heir in this way would be fucking crazy and i just know that the moment kit jumps off, ty's heart would be pounding in his chest and he’d genuinely away to jump into the unknown after kit but then kit would fly up, like a bloody god and ty’d stare at him, mouth open with shock and confusion but really he's just grateful that the love of his life is okay, that he's safe and alive <3

personally, my wildest hc for twp would probably be hmmmm.... idk if it's wild but i think it would be fucking hilarious if we got a crackhead!lucifer like i want him to be terrifying and for him to be the spookiest villain but also for him to whip out dad jokes here and there and just be an absolute menace bc he’s the d e v i l :') it's not a super wild theory just something i think would be funny to read hehhehe