#i hate them i hate whoever wrote this stupid show

[rirabeko]

Some of Baji's mischaracterization that gives me the ICK

It's 2024 and there are people out there who still can't understand Baji's character and mischaracterize him heavily, mostly because of the Bajifuyu ship.

DISCLAIMER: You can ship whoever you want. I'm just tired of seeing my favourite character constantly being mischaracterized because of toxic shippers. Also I'm not a shipper myself, I do not romanticize any of the relationships I mention below.

The biggest issue with Baji's character is the fact that Bajifuyu shippers (and sometimes just the fandom in general) constantly ignore Kazutora's role in Baji's life, meanwhile Kazutora made a huge impact on Baji's character. You can clearly see it not just in the anime or in the manga, but in the spin-off too.

Baji and Kazutora were that duo, they were a literal separated team within Toman. They met naturally, become friends instantly and spent most of their time together (many times without Toman). It's accepted by the fandom, that Kazutora's first real friend was Baji, but also Baji's first close friend was Kazutora.

Obviously Mikey and Baji were close as kids, but after Baji moved to a different place they weren't that close. I bet this is the reason why Baji didn't know about Shinichiro's bike shop, since when they met regularly Baji was a little kid and Shinichiro was a teenager without a bike shop. It also shows that Mikey and Baji aren't that close, they are more like childhood buddies than close friends.

I can talk about this for hours but now I only wrote it as a small disclaimer, before I get into my points, so let's go.

I am sick of it when:

they call Baji stupid (he literally outsmarted Kisaki, being smart not equals only book smart)

people headcanon him as a mean, aggressive, abusive bf (he is canonly no.1 best lover and he literally died because he has a heart of gold, let this bs go pls)

they can't understand the reason behind his suicide and make it a ship war (ICK)

people can't accept the fact Baji loves his friends differently, and not everyone is his bestie (it doesn't mean he does not love them, or prefers someone over the other but love can be different towards different people and it's absolutely normal!)

they make his character all about Bajifuyu (he is an individual, stop bringing up Chifuyu EVERYTIME when it comes to Baji. His character is much more than a guy in a dominant-submissive fanmade yaoi ship people like dragging him into!)

they make Chifuyu the good, perfect friend while constantly dragging Baji down and made him the bad guy in their relationship (I could write a whole essay just about this being a bullshit)

when they romanticize Bajifuyu (Baji canonly sees Chifuyu as a younger brother figure said by Baji's mom, but there are people out there who still believes unironically that they are in love... WHY?)

they ignore that Baji is very caring and affectionate not just towards Chifuyu, he is like this because these are his own personality traits. He behaves like this with everyone who's close to him. (Mikey, Kazutora, Ryuusei and just Toman in general)

people say Chifuyu was the only one who understood Baji's feelings and aims (the literal reason Baji died was because no one really understood his goals and behaviour, not even Chifuyu)

they romanticize Chifuyu's obsessiveness towards Baji (if Chifuyu was a girl, he would be cancelled for this behaviour immediately, but the double standard won again)

people make his death an opportunity to romanticize Bajifuyu (biggest ICK)

they say Baji is only distant with Chifuyu beacuse he is a tsundere (there are so many situations when Chifuyu truly annoys Baji, e.g. he said it many times that Chifuyu's infatuation really disturbs him and asked Chifuyu to stop)

Bajifuyu shippers ignore and hate Kazutora just because he disturbs their ship

they say Baji was a bad influence to Kazutora (Kazutora hung out with gangs even before he met Baji, he was already a part of the underworld. the reason Kazutora turned out that way was his abusive father and his horrible childhood in general. Baji literally saved him, and he could finally be himself around Baji without any judgement or harassment)

they ignore or even DENY Bajitora's bond because of Bajifuyu

they accept Bajifuyu, Kazufuyu or even the Bajitrio but HATE Bajitora (the biggest bullshit ever)

they can't recognise the fanservice of Bajifuyu and calls them canon because of the clear fanservice acts

people think Bajitora is one sided (more Baji sided) meanwhile Tora loves Baji more than his own life and shows it many times how much he loves Baji and how much Baji means to him

they accept that Chifuyu never changed his hairstyle after Baji made it for him (and obviously they romanticize it) but they are hating because Kazutora looked exactly like Baji in bad toman timeline

people ignore Bajitora and always forgets that they are very close to each other in every timeline. the new panels Wakui drew were also about Kazutora putting Chifuyu to his place after Chifuyu completly ignored Tora and disturbed his time with his best friend. (we all know Kazutora is very possessive with Baji for obvious reasons and does not tolerate being disrespected by someone)

The list could go on and on but these are the main problems I still see in this fandom when it comes to Baji's character.

I'm tired of seeing this amazingly well-written character turns into a boring, abusive, mean guy by the fandom who is only an abuser in a toxic fanmade yaoi ship.

SIDE NOTE:

To all the people who dislike him/call him mean and aggressive because he beat Chifuyu up:

This anime is based on a manga which takes place in the early 2000's gangster world in Japan. He is the captain of the 1st division, he is the leader, and his role is not just to be the strongest in the division but also to manage his team, bc this is also what a leader does. If someone is disrespectful, breaks the rules and shows a bad example to the others he has to punish them. In this world this is how things go. This won't make him a bad person, or an aggressive jerk. Baji can be very calm and collected when it comes to leading his division. He is a very good leader, who takes care of his teammates, so no surprise he is really loved by his division. 

Also when he beat Chifuyu up before joining Valhalla: he hated himself for doing that. But he had to, he had no other choice. And Chifuyu had every right to stand up against Baji and tell him he's not doing it. But since Chifuyu never questions Baji's decisions as the captain of the first division he agreed with this one too, and also because he wanted to help him. Chifuyu knew exactly what he was doing when he let Baji doing this to him, and he went along with it. Stop bringing this up everytime and use it against Baji.

[screamsilas]

@ii-neg-confessions is really stupid

IMPORTANT UPDATE!; @II-NEG-CONFESSIONS IS BANNED (on tumblr)!! ALL CAN REJOICE!!!!!

@ii-neg-confessions is kind of what it sounds like, a blog about inanimate insanity to spread hate and negativity and I feel like people shouldn't be so open to absorbing hate all the time

I wrote a better worded version on my phone but the drafts thing apparently doesn't work so take this kind of lazy one instead cause I don't really wanna spend any more of my time on this earth trashing an admin on a confessions blog who most should know is just a negative nancy hater who needs to get off they damn phone

time to "see through the bullshit" and "simply call out this bullshit" instead of "mindlessly consuming slop and following the herd"! /quoting their blog

also if you are gonna say "ohh don't give them them attention that's what they want" hold that thought cause this post isn't FOR them, its to educate ABOUT them and show people they're stupid. Its your choice if you wanna block them. Also, this is my space to criticize whatever I want, block whoever I want, etc. so I'm gonna post this rant here and let people act under their discretion.

anyways more under the cut

update on 12/09/24; rephrased/added context to some stuff in the Adam Katz segment.

update on 12/09/24; added a funny thing at the very end of the post.

update on 12/10/24; removed Adam Katz segment for correcting and editing.

[removed temporarily]

This is one of those things that when I read it I audibly said " are you fucking serious" cause truthfully I don't think they are being serious here.

To make fun of people that are POSITIVE? you actually must be absolutely MISERABLE to make a whole word to try and describe people who are positive in a negative light. I don't have much else to say here other than they must be genuinely sad with their life to do this.

small bomb break just to preface something

I'm not gonna go into their blog and criticize every word they have ever said, because I simply don't want to, but feel free to add onto this in the comments or re-blogs, cause I think its important to acknowledge this person and see them for who they are... and act accordingly of course.

anywayyy...

death threats (I'm gonna talk about that)

I've seen a lot of the OSC unanimously say that Mil has sent death threats to the II crew which I believe is true considering their overwhelmingly negative behavior and opinions towards most people who like ii/the crew themselves. I wanna of course start by saying that (as obvious as it should be) DEATH THREATS ARE NEVER OKAY! In some places in the world, even online they can be ILLEGAL!!! Its never okay to tell someone that you are gonna kill them, or that they should kill themselves, no matter how bad you think their YouTube show is, or how true you think your preconceived notions about peoples life or political stances are, death threats of any sort? NEVER OKAY! The fact that they went out of their way and spent that time (and most of their time) blatantly hating on this thing that was never about or for them is really disgusting.

Some more stuff I wanna say (in bullet point form!)

I never will say that I don't think its okay to have negative opinions or state said opinions, but from what I can see from this entire blog, its more than that. Its more than sharing criticism, its spreading hate about something a lot of people hold dear to them for no other reason then the fact that you hold hate in your heart

I'm pretty aware that Mil has some issues, whether that be relationship, familial... its none of my business. If she's reading this, just know there are people who can help, help is always available to you.

for a blog that's all for "seeing the truth" you really love to delete everything you don't agree with (even if its negative)

using art and not taking it down even after asked to is really rude, everyone should know that.. well except for Mil, who still has the post up

people calling everything that is appealing to the audience "fanservice" is so stupid is that the only word you know? do you only know how to use buzzer words to catch your audience instead of giving genuine points?

I was gonna say some more but I got distracted, and also I'm already sick of their shit so

okay bye bye!

p.s. ; a hefty handful of screenshots I didn't wanna write a whole paragraph saying they're shit to

this one is just sad to read like who hurt you

blatantly threatening a hack against AE's channel (also illegal)

shit like this makes me believe that this account is ragebait

more "posies" talk (makes me giggle)

looking pretty defensive to me (definitely a dream stan)

self indulgent insert but uh maybe its cause cobs is in the show hmm idk maybe though

death threats arent okay even if mil sent them to others (it will only repeat the cycle)

this is just funny to me, the ii crew has gone back and deleted scenes that aren't good, they have said they were young at the time and they are growing and changing people and apologized for what they did, what else do you want? do you want them to beg for forgiveness at your shoes?? you're fucking weird.

""digital footprint" isn't real" says a lot

what do you mean?? they're hating WITH YOU!!!! just because they can see good in the show doesn't mean they're corny! full post here

maybe because the songs are... musical inspired... maybe you just hate fun... (they literally say they do what am I talking about)

hating for no reason again (and ignoring everything anon said except for the thing that caught their eye; hatred)

okay I'm done, Mil is exhausting, @ii-neg-confessions is exhausting, I'm forever a "posie" I guess

if you read this far also... hi! thank you for reading all of this and educating yourself! remember that despite their hatred, there's still lots of love and care in this world and you deserve the most of it! please get some water and a snack, and have a wonderful day!! <3

okay that's my rant bye

p.s.

stop following me, mil

[leeknowsnot]

kinktober — the god of love (minho)

genre: smut (minors dni), fluff

content: minho x reader, god of love minho au, reader is a hopeless romantic because i am too, greek god themes, he is eros the god of love, modernized greek gods, body worship, vanilla, just pure love, mature themes, mention of p-rn

oh my god, this is my first smut on this page. i hope i did okay though, it's been a long while since i wrote smut. anyway, i'll try starting on the others soon! read at your own risk

kinktober masterlist

Piles of paperwork laid before him. His eyes scrutinized every paper, dreading the sight of the amount of work he'd have to do. What was he doing here anyway? Right. He was called in for some extra work because the amount of stuff that the employees under him had to do was overwhelming.

Piles and piles of paperwork. "Over what?" his colleague would ask him and he would roll his eyes.

"Some dumbass woman who can't stop falling in love and getting heartbroken over every goddamn man," he would complain.

For Minho, being the God of Love wasn't all arrows and rainbows. Oh look, a girl crushing on a guy. Let's shoot an arrow to his chest so he could fall in love with her too! No. He wasn't highschool cupid. It wasn't as easy as that, unlike what most people would actually think. If he was going to be honest, there wasn't much field work to begin with. The only field work he'd do is to sit on his chair, observing people as they fall in love with each other, only to deal with multiple paperwork as soon as couples start falling out and breaking up with each other. He hated how people treated love as if it was something so dispensable. Like a one-time thing. Well, mostly because it gave him so much work to deal with.

And you, on the other hand, was one of those types that he hated the most: a hopeless romantic. He never really believed in hoping for love despite being the God of Love himself. Stop falling in love multiple times in a year. He always wanted to drill that into your brain each time he'd come down from HQ to observe you and your stupid attempts at pursuing whoever you were onto at the moment. He would lie if he said he never cringed everytime you'd blush at the smallest things. He was annoyed at how you always fell so hard over the bare minimum.

He types away angrily at his keyboard, cursing under his breath. "12th time this fucking year. I swear, if that shithead falls in love with the wrong guy again, I'm gonna shoot myself."

His fingers stop typing, eyes staring into the screen as his eyebrows rest on a permanent scowl on his face. He stared at your image through the documents, analyzing every feature on your face. He wouldn't deny the fact that you were attractive in a way, which made him wonder for a moment why you'd always fail at your attempts on finding love.

Minho sighs, his fingers pinching the bridge of his nose before he stands up from his seat. "Better pay her a short visit. I need some amusement after all that headache she's been giving me," he mutters to himself.

...

Minho sat there, eyebrows raised. You weren't the type to wear revealing dresses and yet here you were, a scissor away from being practically naked. Okay, maybe he was exaggerating since you only opted to expose your shoulders but you never really showed much skin before. Each time Minho would drop by secretly to observe you during your dates to see if they'd finally succeed, you were either wearing cute floral dresses, or anything that was wholesome. But then again, he had to remind himself where he had to go just to check on you.

A nightclub.

In all honesty, some shoulderless blouse was just the tip of the iceberg compared to how the others dressed. Some were practically naked but Minho didn't pay much attention to them. His eyes were focused on eyeing you at the other side of the room, through grinding bodies.

Though, his gaze on your faltered as soon as a woman sat beside him, brushing her arm on his that was rested on top of the counter. "Hey there, pretty boy," the woman winked at him.

Minho wanted to puke then and there and his expression said it all. He eyed the woman from head to toe, immediately disgusted at her mere presence. He brought his eyes back to you but as soon as he did so, he saw you swaying by the dancefloor with some guy.

Now, Minho wasn't the type to be fazed by such a sight, but the way the man roamed his hands around your torso and attempted to grind his hips towards yours slightly annoyed Minho. Especially with how your face would contort and twitch in discomfort. You were trying your best to hide it and make light of the situation but Minho knew better than to not notice.

He stood up from his seat, tossing all reasoning aside and decided to pull you out of whatever shit you had gotten yourself into just so you could get yourself a lover. "To hell with that," he thought. You were looking for love at the wrong place. The worst place, in fact.

As soon as he arrived at your spot, he grabbed your wrist, earning a surprised yelp from you. He didn't look at you but at the man who was already 5 seconds away from zipping off his pants. Minho was glaring. "Keep your hands and your dick to yourself, yeah?" he tells off the man, earning himself a drunk response but all noise had been shut out and the fucks he could give was thrown out the window the moment he turned to you. "What were you trying to get yourself into, you idiot?"

Minho forgot that he was the only one who knew you like the back of his hand at this point. He was basically a stranger to you. But as he looked into your eyes, you lost yourself in them. His voice came out as muffled due to the trance you were in from the alcohol you just had earlier. And Minho noticed this so he snapped into your face but to no avail.

He dragged you out of the club and you could swear the door that was supposed to lead outside the streets led to somewhere else when Minho opened it but you decided that it was your mind and the alcohol playing its tricks on you. Minho brought you to his office through the club's door—an ability that always proved to be handy. He made you sit on his couch, giving you a glass of water.

"Drink that. It'll help with the hangover," he says. He never had hangover before since human liquor never really had much of an effect for him and the other Gods but he saw how bad humans had it each time they'd have hangovers. "How many glasses did you have anyway," he mumbles under his breath, not particularly expecting you to hear or respond.

His hand bring itself up to your face as he holds a towel, wiping off your sweat. "You suck at taking care of yourself. You always put those idiots first before yourself, that's why you're always getting rejected," he mumbles again, an annoyed expression now on his face. However, his expression turns into confusion as soon as he sees you squint your eyes at him.

"You... look familiar," you say, a hiccup following your sentence as you try your best to dig your memories through your drunken stupor.

Minho shakes his head. "Don't be ridiculous. No one looks like me," he says but you suck air between your teeth.

"No, I swear I've seen you somewhere," you dazingly tapped on your temple before your eyes widen in realization and you point at him. "Oh, I remember now! I see you a lot of times whenever I..." you trail off your sentence. You gasp. "You're always around whenever I meet guys for dates! Are you perhaps, my stalker?"

This earned you a light slap on the forehead from Minho.

"You didn't have to hit my head!" you pouted at him.

"Stop pouting, you look ugly," he says as he removes your shoes. "I wasn't stalking you."

You squint your eyes again at him. Both at his answer and as to why he was removing your shoes. "Then what were you doing? And what are you doing?"

Minho glances up at you with a look of disbelief. "Removing your shoes, if that's not obvious enough," he turns back to removing your other shoe. "I thought you were dumb only with love. You're dumb with telling actions too."

You frown, "Why are you even removing my shoes?! Put them back on??"

"For the record, you are not Cinderella. And you'd rather I let you get blisters? Why did you even wear heels? You never wore heels," he whispers the last part. You blink.

"You are my stalker," you gasp, earning another glare from Minho.

As he finished removing your shoes, he plops himself back down beside you. "I was observing you," he says, answering your question.

"Yeah, you were stalking me," you butt in.

"Stalking is different from observing. Get your facts right," he argues back.

'This man,' you thought to yourself as you look at him in disbelief. Though despite his sarcastic remarks, you could feel as if you knew him for a long time already. Or maybe because you'd see him a lot everywhere. You always thought it was coincidence.

"Why were you observing me?" you ask him.

Minho sighs, rubbing his face with a hand as he looks at you, probably being annoyed at how much you were asking him. "Entertainment. Your idiocy amuses me," he sarcastically replies.

You were speechless.

First, this man ruins your date. Your chances of getting laid tonight. You didn't mind if it was drunk sex, as long as it was sex, that was how hopeless you were. Second, he denies being your stalker. Third, he was mocking your poor taste in men and bad luck in love. And lastly, he was telling you that you were basically a no go because you were an idiot.

"I can't believe this," you scoff under your breath. "You ruined my chances for... this."

Minho raises an eyebrow at you. "Chances at what."

You roll your eyes at him. "Getting laid."

Minho stares at you for a while before sighing. You were such a piece of work. On second thought, he'd rather deal with paperwork than your attitude. He shakes his head in hopelessness, eyes still at you.

"You were going to settle with drunk sex?" he asked with a tone of as-a-matter-of-fact. When you nodded, he chuckled in disbelief.

"Well, what do you want me to do then?" you snapped your head at him. "I always fail at romance. I try to establish wholesome relationships but they... They just fail. And this..." you pause. "It may not be the best option, but it's my only chance of actually getting a guy."

Minho was amused at how emotional you were getting. He could see the tears forming in your eyes as you explain. Sure, Minho was getting frustrated over this ordeal, but you were too and he just realized that. If he was getting annoyed over paperwork, then it meant people were hurting too. You were hurting too.

For some reason, Minho disliked that idea. For the longest time, he'd see the brightest smiles on your face each time you fell in love or experienced something akin to love. He thought it was only for work that he'd come down to observe you each time you go on dates. But in truth, he liked seeing you smile. He didn't know how or when it started. He just... liked to see your face brighten up.

Maybe he wasn't annoyed at you because you always fell in love and get broken and give him more paperwork. Maybe he was annoyed at the fact that people kept on hurting you. He was annoyed at the fact that guys always took advantage of your love. He was annoyed at the fact that you always gave it your all to guys who didn't deserve any of your love. He was annoyed at himself for seeing it otherwise.

Minho chuckles, more at himself than at you. "That's such a sad excuse to find love, it's pathetic."

You turned your head towards him, about to retort but you shut yourself up as soon as he brought his face close to yours. Your eyes widened. "What—"

"You're pathetic," he mumbles. "I can't believe you're going to settle with just that." Then, he closes the gap between you two. His lips touched yours momentarily, brushing like a feather before diving deep. For a second, it was as if your world stopped. You may have had failed attempts at love but that doesn't mean you never had kisses. Though, most of them were empty. In fact, you've had too many kisses to the point that you had to think to yourself if you'll only get kisses for the rest of your life.

But this. This was... You couldn't put the right words. No, that was the perfect word for it. Right. It felt so... right.

The kiss felt too short as soon as he pulled away, eyes staring into yours. You could swear you could see the whole universe in them. You barely talked to this man for more than an hour and yet you feel like you've known him forever.

Minho's eyes trail from your eyes to your lips. He has always seen you. How you look. How you dressed. How you spoke. But he has never seen you this close. And now that he has, it was as if he was looking at Zeus' finest piece of art. Your beauty held more charm than Aphrodite herself. Hell, you'd start more wars than Helen of Troy ever did with that pretty little face of yours.

He parts his lips, his warm breath adding fuel to the warmth that had now spread on your blushing face. "In all of my decades, observing your kind and mine," he pauses. "I have never met anyone as beautiful as you."

"I wonder which God sculpted you," he mutters under his breath, eyes bearing themselves into yours. "Those eyes. They're like Narcissus. I could get lost just by staring at them."

He placed another kiss on your lips, this time much softer than the last.

"Those men are fools," he says. "They could never see true beauty. Beauty that has so willingly presented itself before them."

It was as if he had fallen right then and there. The irony of being the God of Love was that he barely fell in love himself. But when he does, he falls deep. Turns into such poet. Just as how he was letting himself become vulnerable before you.

He takes your hand in his, lacing your fingers together, intertwining them like perfect pieces of a puzzle. You were entranced. You didn't know how or why. But the way his hand would graze on your skin felt like electricity. The good kind where the hair on your back would stand each time you'd feel warm air breeze through while you are cold. Like goosebumps.

You wondered if there was something in that water that he had given you earlier. Aphrodisiac? No. There was nothing in there. And yet you felt so entranced. So pulled in. So dazed. You had never felt this feeling before from your past lovers. Then again, were those even love? Or just infatuation? Was it the true definition of love, or was this the true definition of love? Maybe it was just the effect of having the God of Love himself being so close to you. But you were none the wiser of his identity as a God. And yet he pulled you in like gravity.

His lips placed a chaste kiss on your lips once more, gradually travelling towards your cheek, your jawline, and your neck. They were slow yet passionate. His hands ran up your arms, holding your shoulder as he carefully lays you on the couch so you'd feel comfortable.

Minho looks at you once more. "Will you let me show you what love is?" he asks with a quiet tone. You stare at him for a short while, with him still placing soft kisses on your neck as he waits for your response. Eventually, you nod.

He hums quietly in satisfaction. "Just follow my lead," he says.

You don't know what happened after that. You only remember his occasional glances. His chaste kisses on your skin. His hands caressing everywhere they could land on, memorizing your every curve. You only remember laying there, naked.

His gaze on you never faltered. His eyes memorized every feature, taking in every imperfection that you had. As a God, he was but used to seeing only the perfect complexions. But with your body, the imperfections were what made you more beautiful in his eyes.

Minho leans down towards you, brushing the back of his fingers on your cheek softly. He held you as if you were porcelain. No rough movements. No raspy caresses. "Stop looking for love," he muses. "Because love himself is presenting itself to you." He takes your hand, placing a kiss on your knuckles. "Love itself is yours to take."

You part your lips with a soft gasp. No one, not even one man has ever told you such words. No one, not even one man has ever seen you this naked. No one, not even one man has ever held you as much as this man did. And he was worshipping you with both his words, his kisses, and his touches.

His hand pulled you closer for another kiss before caressing down your body, eventually resting itself on your thigh. His thumb brushes on your skin before travelling towards your inner thigh. His finger lingers too close to your core. Not touching, but you could feel it. Minho smiles at your reaction, chuckling as he finally runs a digit through your folds.

You lightly gasp, biting your lower lip to immediately stop yourself from letting out a sound. He looks up at you, amused by your sensitivity. You couldn't blame him. After all, you were a virgin. Both by touch and by intercourse. He could immediately tell as he continued running his finger through your heat, dragging through every slick as a string of your love juice connects your nub and the tip of his finger with every slow stroke. He traces small circles around your clit, earning a shivery hum from you as you cover your mouth with the back of your hand.

You hated how slow he was teasing you. Minho, however, was loving every second of it. How red your cheeks were right now. How half-lidded your eyes were. How wet you already were with just a few kisses and a few strokes.

He leans towards your chest, taking out his tongue to gently brush on one of your nipples, making you twitch. "You're quite easy to please," he mutters as he flicks his tongue and sucks lightly on your nipple. "But then again... You are a virgin."

This made your eyes widen. You tilted your head to the side, covering your face with embarrassment. You hear Minho chuckle before he takes your wrists, removing your hands from your face. "Shhh, it's okay." he whispers in your ear. He places a quiet kiss on your ear lobe. He faces you again. "At least you didn't get to experience how horrible and selfish those men are when it comes to making love."

His smile falters. "No. They don't call it making love, do they?" his eyes trail down to your stomach, bringing himself down so he could place kisses and kitten licks on your skin. "I believe most of them like calling it casual sex."

"Bastards," he curses under his breath before lowering himself again, this time being face-to-face with your heat. You embarrassingly closed your legs, momentarily making him react as your thighs envelope his head. He looks up at you with an amused smirk. "Guess you're into that, huh?" he mumbles with a husky tone before finally leaning in.

You could swear you momentarily saw stars as soon as his warm, wet tongue ran through your folds. His breath would always exhale each time he would swirl his tongue around your clit, slurping occasionally from his makeshift chalice.

You were sweeter than ambrosia and nectar, and he couldn't have enough. You were a walking cardinal sin, ready to prey on a God, to tempt him to indulge in such temptation. And that God was him. Except that you weren't tempting him, but it was him who willingly walked into your trap without any provocation.

The God of Love, enchanted by a human being. By you.

As his sucks and licks increased their pace, so did your stiffled moans. "Don't keep your moans to yourself," he says. "I'd love some good music." He stuck his tongue inside of you, exploring every crevice of your walls as much as he could while his teeth would occasionally scrape lightly through your clit. When you finally moan out loud unintentionally, he smiles. "That's it. Let me hear your pretty voice."

Every second that he spent worshipping you with his tongue brought you closer to something. You were already way past from what you used to consider as climax from your self-ministrations but this was something else. Something higher. Something more pleasurable.

You subconsciously grabbed his head, pulling his head closer. Minho's eyes widen a bit, surprised at your action but complies anyway. He smirks, tongue lapping you up faster as his mouth starts making the most sinful sounds as he sucks you in his mouth. He holds both your legs, determined to make you see a taste of heaven just as much as how he was tasting his own version of heaven through you.

As he gives you a long, dragging suck with the swirling of his tongue on your clit, it finally brings you to the edge. Your eyes shut tight, mouth hung open, and back arched as you cry out in pleasure. Your legs shake as they attempt to wiggle out from his grasps but his hold was strong, keeping you in place as he continues to suck on you, giving you overstimulation as you ride your first high.

He eventually lets you recover as you pant, now hovering above you as he licks away the remaining juices off his lips as if it was syrup. His eyes observe you, loving how helpless you looked as you tried to catch your breath from just a single climax, and just with a simple oral too. Minho brushes off a stray hair off your face, tucking it behind your ear as he places a kiss on your forehead.

"Well?" he asks. "It's good, isn't it?" You were too out of it to even answer. No one could blame you, the first orgasm—whether it was oral or not—was always the most mind-blowing. Too mind-blowing it turned you speechless in a matter of minutes. "That guy you were dancing with wouldn't even give a single fuck whether you'd cum or not," he says. "He'd only want to put his sad excuse of a dick inside that pretty little mouth and call it a day."

Minho places a soft kiss on your lips. "Human men won't care for you as much as Love himself would," he pauses. "Because they do not know love. They only know Lust."

He gently opens your legs, zipping down his own pants in the process. "Let me make love to you," Minho says, caressing your thighs as he raises them. He places kisses on your legs. When you finally recover from your trance, you glance at him. He was now as naked as you were but you could swear you were laying your eyes upon a God. And you really were.

He was perfect regardless wherever you would lay your eyes upon. Especially his arms. God, his arms were like nothing you have ever seen and yet they held you with such care. He could flail you around like a ragdoll, just like what most men would do in those porn videos you'd watch each time you felt a little lonely. But no, he held you as if you were a priceless vase. He'd trace your body as if it was some rare artwork to revel on at a museum. He'd draw you in his head like you were one of his French girls. Except that he didn't have any of those. You were the only girl that made a significance within his eyes.

You finally gave in, tossing all reason aside. If this was going to be your final chance at love, you prayed. Then you might as well let it happen.

Your tongues danced within a kiss, intertwining with each other both emotionally and physically. He clung unto you and you clung unto him, bodies pressing into each other as your sweat would momentarily stick each time Minho would close the proximity between you two. His thrusts started as slow yet passionate strokes, your velvety walls hugging around him as you moan in between gaps of your sloppy kisses. His hand caresses your waist, resting by your hips as he grips them only to pull you back towards him so you'd meet his thrusts.

He wasn't ruthless. He wasn't in a rush. He wasn't destroying you. And just like he said, he wasn't just giving you sex. He was making love with you. His slow thrust eventually increase its pace, the tip of his cock now kissing your cervix at each thrust. The sinful sound of skins slapping fill the walls of his office, mixed in by both your moans. He would always place wet, open-mouthed kisses on your neck and latch his lips on your nipple, never having enough of you as he drives deeper and deeper into you.

If he could, he would bury himself into you. Get lost in pleasure with you. Stay inside you. If it meant showing you what love really was, he would do it. Every stroke sent waves of pleasure through your body and his as your moans encouraged him to go even deeper. He couldn't get enough of the way you looked at him. How your lips would mouth incoherent words as he continues to savor the feeling of being inside you.

Soon enough, the room was filled with nothing but heavy breathing and ragged gasps. You wrap your arms around Minho's neck, pulling him closer as you yourself get closer to your own climax once more. He could feel you slowly tightening around him, a smirk finding its way on his lips.

"Cumming again?" he whispers, quiet groans lacing his question in between as he starts to thrust into you at a faster pace. You nod absentmindedly, eyes shut tight as you arch your back once more. He raises your legs, gaining more access to thrust deeper. "Deeper," he mumbles. "A little more."

With each thrust, his cock reached deeper depths that you didn't know were reachable. It sent you on edge. With his one final thrust, he finally hits that button needed for you to snap, making you moan out loud. The way you suddenly clenched around him as he was buried deep inside you made him reach his own climax as well, painting your walls with his own release. "Cumming cumming cumming!" you mutter, hands gripping on his arms as his groans muffle themselves in your neck.

You both laid there, gasping for air in each other's arms, savoring each other's warmth before Minho finally raises his head from your neck and looks at you. His face held the most loving and softest expression. He was smiling at your dazed state.

He places a kiss on your forehead. On your nose. And on your lips before looking into your half-lidded eyes. "I'll be back soon," he says. He said something else after that but you were too exhausted to even remember as your eyes finally closed, sending you into a state of rest.

...

You awoke with a jolt as you shot up from your bed, eyes open wide as you pant. You glanced around, immediately recognizing your surroundings as your bedroom. You frown to yourself, glancing down beneath the blanket.

What the hell happened? you asked yourself. You weren't exactly sure. You remembered being in a bar to meet up with that tinder date you have been crushing on since last week but after that, you passed out—probably from alcohol and now here you were, confused.

You wondered how you got home in the first place.

And that dream, you sighed to yourself, feeling your core wet from whatever dream you had. You shook your head, a palm running through your face as you groan in frustration.

"I can't believe I was so desperate to the point I'd dream of making love with someone," you roll your eyes at yourself as you throw yourself back on the bed again. This time, hugging your pillow and your curiosity piqued at your dream. "Whoever that guy was in my dream was really attractive though," you mutter to yourself.

Unbeknownst to you, Minho observed you through the window of your room from far a way, chuckling. He observes your pretty features first before finally turning around.

He'll remain in your dreams for now. After all, that was how Greek Gods would visit their human love affairs—through dreams. Though this time, he'd visit your dreams frequently.

Maybe because he wants less paperwork from you. Maybe because he wants you to pine for him more than the men you'd meet.

Eitherway, he can't wait until he visits you the next time you close your eyes again.

likes and reblogs are very much appreciated!!

[thequietkid-moonie]

Troublemaker!reader tries to be a good influence for them

[ PLATONIC HEADCANONS ] [ Kotoko, Monaca, Masuru, Jataro & Nagisa ]

[ Danganronpa Ultra Despair Girls ]

Its been so loooong since last time i wrote for my babies that i didn't even remembered how to do it properly! But but but I did try my best in this one and actually have fun while thinking about it

I hope you enjoy it as much as I did my dear reader <3

For all of you is more likely to be an accident or simply a coincidence, crossing paths when you were about to do something, even so it would take a while for them to warm you because of how much they dislike grown ups!

For being an ultimate the sistem of the school is way too permissive so that would lead you to have enough free time to just end up messing around the other parts of the school, including the section of the little ultimates, then again they may be a little wary at first specially if you have come simply to cause problems but the friendship would grow with some patience

Monaca is one of the first ones to warm up, she easily become the leader of the group of friends and she can easily see how of a troublemaker you are, not really caring about the school, and thats the main reason why she grows to like you so quick! Your rebelious and carefree attitude is what make her grow to like you in a second and why she decided to follow your example, she was already wishing to cause troubles and maybe even take advantage of those who she hates but now you are finally helping her take that last step so of course she would start following you around

The second to grow to not only like you a lot but also to admire you is Masuru! He is already energetic and loves playing around but getting to know someone who just wants to have fun even if that means causing troubles to others is something incredibly cool in his childish mind, so of course he would start following you around and ask to let him play with you!

Kotoko would take even longer to warm up but is thanks to Monaca that she does, she just doesn't like grown ups (and if you male it would be even more dificult) but it is until she notice how with you is just pure fun and without anything to do with her directly she would simply give a try and will end up asking for more games! She would even end up having a rivality with Masuru, both trying to show of they are the best and the one who can follow your rythm with ease

It would be too dificult Nagisa to be comfortable with you, he is too mature for his age and is too dedicated at his studies to waste his time in such childish and stupid things, but at the end is the rest who end up making him just relax and play around (probably being teased a lot by Masuru and Kotoko simply get on his nerves and thats why he end up giving up)

While for Jataro is surprisingly easy to warm up, it may take time because he just see himself as a horrendous monster and a burden but soon will find the same joy on simply going around and having fun while causing troubles, at the start he would feel like is not a good thing to do but with some reasurance and when he grows comfortable around you he will simply start doing what he wants and may even become as caotic as you can be

It could be quite the surprised when one day you look back and then notice a bunch of kids suddenly following your steps, calling you admirable and funny and wanting to follow your example, it could be then the moment you realice this new responsability because despite being considere ultimates they are still kids, and kids follow the example of whoever they admire so maybe following a total troublemaker who gets away for what they do thanks to being an ultimate isn't exactly the best example for their childish minds

Wanting to give them a good example could be understandable but quite dificult to do when you are used to do what you want to do as you please, and since they are already used to seeing you being caotic it could be a little hypocrite to tell them to behaive, so it would be quite dificult to now try to give a good example

It may end up being a learning experience for all, by you trying to change at least enough to don't raise a bunch of brats and them to have someone who cares for them. There is probably moments where you have to stop yourself for a moment to think twice before doing something, even asking them if they know how to solve a problem in a pacific way

However, when you suddenly try to stop yourself from doing something reckless and try to teach them to not be so caotic it isn't going to be well received for them, suddenly they would be accusing you to act like those boring adults they hate so much and will try to push you to go back to be the troublemaker they know and like so much

At the end it would be easier to show them important things you know without stop being you, otherwise it would just feel unatural, besides, teaching them things as the troublemaker you are would not only make them happy but also will make them actually want to grow as a person, and since they are still kids honestly they still have their whole life awaiting for them to grow and learn, so for now some fun wouldn't hurt, right?

It may not go the best way posible and end up being all a caotic fun but at least all grow a little, including you

[midnightechoes]

When either Suletta or Miorine get fridged, I hope you realize how stupid you were for swallowing up obvious queerbaiting.

So. This was sent to me right around the time the season 1 finale of G_Witch aired, sometime in early January. And I held onto it this entire time because shit, if anything it made me put my faith even further into this show.

I assume this isn't a mutual or a follower. Whoever it is they were too cowardly to put their name to it. Whoever wrote it, I feel bad for. Because they're no reason to come into a stranger's space and write something like this, unless you get joy from making others miserable, or you are miserable and want others to join you in that misery, or seeing someone enjoying things makes you angry.

Whichever one it is, that points to a person with very little real joy in their life, and I hope they can find something that makes them genuinely happy that isn't destructive.

I doubt any of us are perfect when it comes to the kind of energy we put out into the world and onto the internet. I know I'm not. I've worked on trying to be better about it, but even now I know that I slip up from time to time.

But one thing I truly believe, even if I sometimes struggle to remember it, is that your life is much better when you're focusing on the things that bring you joy.

At times, it feels like the internet is designed to reward hate and negativity, and maybe it is. But that's miserable. We all spend so much time being miserable on here, when we could have so much fun if we put that effort into the things that make us happy.

So, I am going to try to continue putting my love and energy into things that I love, and ignore the things that I don't and just let the people that do like those things be happy. I'm going to fail sometimes, but I'm going to keep trying. And I hope you all will too.

And to the person that wrote this Ask, I hope you find something that gives you as much joy and happiness as G_Witch and these funky little space-wives have given me.

[buckyarchives]

Domestic Life Of a Living With a Runaway Assassin. [Intro.]

Pairings: Bucky Barnes x soulmate!reader

Summary: you hate many things in life. you hate soulmates. you hate the avengers. you hate guns. you hate loud snorers and complicated relationships.

Bucky Barnes is associated with all of those things, yet you can't find yourself hating him

W.c: 2.1K

Series playlist linked here

Author note: this was actually one of my first long form fics I wrote in many years, its carrys a nostalgic feeling and means a lot to me. i wrote it like last October and thought abt kinda rewriting some stuff and posting it here! I thought some of you guys woudk enjoy this story. this is only a short darbble that teases the story, next chapter shows how they met and everything after that. It takes place right after CA:TWS and it’s a soulmate AU!

Masterlist

Soulmates.

The legend goes that when the universe was created and whatever higher power you believed in created humans to have two sets of legs, two sets of arms, and two heads. Now because the world is cruel and no one can have nice things, whoever is in charge up there split us up into two beings but forever being connected by our souls. Spending the rest of our life waiting and searching for our other halves. Never being our true whole selves without them. How poetically tragic.

It turned into a weird way to make money nowadays, you felt like no one really cared about the reality of soulmates now. It was made into shitty romance movies, or stupid scientific searches for your one and only soulmate that was definitely an internet scam. People literally faking soul marks towards celebrities for their one chance with them that their delusional minds make up. 

All just a desperate attempt to feel whole and loved but your one and true person. Always and forever destined to be.

What a touching story. Too bad you think it's all bullshit

No genuinely, you were supposed to believe your life's purpose was to find this one person in the entire universe that matched you, and without them, you what? you were going to be miserable for the rest of your life? The universe is a scam. You had given up on the whole mad search for your other half years ago, you didn't understand why you couldn't go out and find your own partner without having to match up those stupid words on your shoulder. 

“I'm sorry, you probably don't feel very safe with me.”

Those stupid words. You hated the idea of soulmates but you couldn't stop yourself from the hours of wondering just what the hell that was supposed to mean. You had no interest in seeking out your soulmate but you could wonder what type of person they may be. Were they really a dangerous person? Would you genuinely not feel safe with the said person when you first meet? Would you even meet them?

Questions had swirled through your head since the day you got it. Those questions had died down a little, you were getting older and most of your peers had already met their soulmates. You noticed soulmates were not just romantic, they came in friendships, some didn't work out, some came between children and parents, and some came through your fire escape at night, covered in blood and knocking down your favorite plants.

With a loud crash, your feet carried you through your new york apartment to your living room. You saw the outline of him crouched down on the floor. “I'm so sorry, I know that was your favorite plant.”

Okay, spoiler. You had found your soulmate. You weren't excited about it as the rest of the world expected, but it happened. You weren't some hypocrite that would suddenly abandoned all beliefs and fell head over heels for your soulmate once you met like one of those stupid romance movies you mention earlier, you were not some cliche. Especially not with a poor excuse of a runaway-brainwashed-assassin soulmate, at least you would try convincing yourself that.

“My god Bucky, how many times do I have to tell you to just go through the door.” you pinch the bridge of your nose as the tired old man scrambles to clean up the dirt and scattered pot beneath him. “I mean, you practically live here now.”

“I'm not using the door, someone could see me.”

You think Like that's better than having someone see you climb through the fire escape, asshole. You scoff and shake your head and begin dragging yourself to the kitchen. You had a slight quirk at the end of your lips, an amused smile, you hoped Bucky didn’t see in the dark. Maybe he did, you didn’t really have enough time to ask him the deets on the effects of the serum. 

You swing open the cabinet door and grab a trash bag and first aid kit. God only knows how bent out of shape bucky is tonight. Making your way back into your living room, Buckys still muttering under his breath about your stupid plant and “god dammit it's fucking freezing out there.”

throwing the trash back at him, he looks up at you. His eyes are beautiful. His hair is sopping wet and you were hoping to any god above that he wasn't bleeding out on your floor. You were not losing your security deposit for your reckless runaway assassin soulmate. God, that's a mouthful, you need to give him a new nickname.

 “So, what's the damage?”

“s’ nothing, I'm just cold. It started raining hard.” he looks like a wet shaking dog. Your heart aches.

You look him up and down. Noticing the water dripping from all his clothing. “I see that.”

You sigh and take a few steps toward him. Bucky eyes follow your moments precisely. He has a bit of a staring problem. You snag the hair tie off your wrist and swiftly tie his brunette wet mop of a head into a little man bun. Cute. you shake your head.

“Stay, I'll be right back.”

Bucky watches you in awe as your body ascends back into the darkness of the room and around a corner. He's uncomfortable and his socks are wet. The leather vest is wet and he feels like he's trapped in his own skin, and Bucky feels too heavy. 

Slowly, he begins to unstrap all weapons on his body and toss them to the side so you don't have to see them. You didn't like guns. He had a designated place where he hides them because god-forbid Bucky messes up your apartment aesthetic with his dozen of unsettling and quite scary weapons. Your words, not his.

Unzipping the leather top and peeling the fabric off himself was less than a nice feeling, it made him cringe and sent a quick shiver down his spine. Bucky tossed it to the side, he’ll deal with that tomorrow. His hands feel the thin black shirt that's left, it's wet too. Fucking hell. He doesn’t remember the New York weather being this bad in September, he also barely remembers anything so his memory isn’t too reliable. Bucky slowly peels the fabric over his head, he hopes he doesn't mess up the bun you did, he never did it right.

Bucky hears your feet pad against your floor. He pushes back a smile. You're holding a towel and some clothes. He watches you as you crouch down next to him on the floor, he notices that your eyes are squinted and your bed head is apparent. A twinge of guilt hits him now knowing he had woken you up. Bucky whispers, “I woke you up.”

You sigh, again. “I was having a bad dream anyways.”

“About?”

You inhale, scoffing to yourself. “I was being chased by Jimmy Fallon with a jar of pickles – because you know, I hate pickles – and he was yelling at me about the importance of eating vegetables, but he sounded just like my mom.”

Bucky didn’t remember who Jimmy Fallon was, “you must think you’re so amusing, don’t you?”

“Maybe.”

Bucky curls his toes and is unfortunately reminded of his very wet socks. He leans forward to untie his hefty boots. Your eyes trail along his naked back, his muscles flex and suddenly you are just a little more awake. You watch his left arm in all its glory, taking note of the ragged and scarred tissues where metal meets skin. Scratch marks are littered around the edges, and you feel sad for him, imagining how those got there. The moonlight highlights his metal arm, making it shine and look quite beautiful. You could never tell Bucky that.

“It's been a week.” you finally breathe out. Bucky freezes in place as his fingers wrap around his laces. He feels guilty again. “And you didn't leave a note this time either. I thought...”

Trailing off, you stop yourself before you say something you were going to regret. Your mind wanders, you felt so incredibly stupid right now. Truth is, you didn't agree with the whole soulmate ordeal but it seemed like ever since your unconventional first meeting with Bucky, he has stuck to you like glue. He just kept coming back and then leaving again. 

It took you many of his overnight stays and weirdly domestic mornings making scrambled eggs together and then turning into a worry machine after he leaves. You realized had grown to care for him deeply. Bucky always came back, but you were scared for the day we might not. 

Bucky is– literally, a lost puppy. He had been on the run and actively avoiding the few stray agents that knew he was still alive when he met you. 

Bucky remembered back when he was a kid, dreaming about the day he would meet his soulmate. He and Steve would stay up all night talking about their soul marks, or just words (as they used to call it), and what they thought their soulmates would be like. Bucky was obsessed and simply put, a hopeless romantic. 

Then Steve met his soulmate, Peggy. And then he technically died and Hydra happened, Bucky thought his soulmate would have been dead because he was out of his time now. After being brainwashed and having been broken and put back together by Hydra, Bucky could still never shake the feeling of you still being out there, it was like some instinctive feeling in his bones, he had hope and it was one of the only things keeping him going. 

And he was right.

Bucky had many doubts when he first met you, given his situation. But you were not scared. And that was enough for him at the time.

But now he just feels guilty for giving you the burden of being his soulmate. He was trying, really.

“I'm sorry, doll.” his voice didn't sound like his own, he shrugged the rest of his boot off and followed with his socks. Finally. “I should have left a note. I'm safe, you're safe, and I'm here now.” 

Bucky heard you sniffled and you turned your head with an embarrassment look and glossy eyes. Like you were ashamed for caring.

“sweetheart...” he scooted closer, hoping you wouldn't mind his damp skin on yours. Bucky reached for you, wrapping his flesh hand around yours and giving you a small squeeze. Your head turned to him, a small smile hidden on your face by the darkness of the room. He saw it. Bucky might even think you're an angel. “I won't leave without saying something next time, I'm sorry.”

“Do I even want to know what you were doing out there?”

He hated lying to you but his life was complicated. “Just trying to fix some things I did.”

You nod. “Good.”

The silence between the two of you isn't uncomfortable, the past few months have been silent– at least with bucky. He is your soulmate. He is also the winter soldier, and the winter soldier is always moving and hiding. Bucky Barnes is always moving, always. He had been that way even way back in the Howling Commandos. 

You were his safe haven. Your relationship was on and off but your bond was strong, it was wordless and tentative and strung together by patching wounds at midnight and soft, domestic glances over coffee. Your house– just you were his place where he could just stop, pretend as if nothing mattered and sit on the couch and watch reality television that you loved. Bucky found it questionable but you said “it will help you get with the times.” Bucky just watched it because he knew it made you happy. 

Bucky Barnes had been moving all week, fast. He had almost died, twice. He was never going to let you know that though. Bucky was due for some Hell's Kitchen or dance moms. He was also not going to tell you that. 

The moonlight was fading and you could hear the faint sound of birds chirping outside, barely silenced by the bustling city life of people leaving for work. You are still sitting next to Bucky, and you nudge him with your elbow. His attention is now drawn to you. You bite your bottom lip, a horrible habit you had, bucky hated it. Bucky brings his thumb up to your face and pulls your lip away from your teeth. He wants to kiss you.

“Go take a shower, you stink.” That works too. He smiles and you laugh. Yeah, Bucky thinks he can stop for just a little longer this time.

-

Feedback and comments make the work go round, comment to be added to the tag list!

Tag list : @ivywasmaroon @ozwriterchick @slytherinambitious @wintermischief

[bloodyinkandquill]

Rocket x Reader

wrote these after getting off of phighting, was very fun phighting is so good shsigsjshsk, anyways enjoy!

- When you first met Rocket you thought he was hyper and kind of annoying, fast forward to you two dating, you did not see that one coming but hey, boyfriend acquired so who cares

- While yes he is sorta hyperactive and a bit loud sometimes you love that about him, it’s part of who he is and you love everything about him, and he loves everything about you right back, even if not through words he shows his love for you a lot, especially through touch, he’s very clingy, he likes hugging you, holding you, holding your hand, draping himself across your legs or having you drape yourself over him, he just wants to be in contact with you at all times

- He probably uses those really cheesy embarrassing pet names just to make you embarrassed and annoyed with him, stuff like shnookums or cutiepie, but actually he calls you sweet things in private when he doesn’t wanna be an ass, if you do it back he turns it into a game, who can call the other a more weird/embarrassing name, whoever can’t think of something or whoever gets too embarrassed and asks the other to stop first wins, he’s very competitive but he has admitted defeat a couple times before

- You definitely help Rocket with trimming his horns, cleaning his rocket, basic maintenance on his arm and leg, etc, while he can do those things by himself it’s difficult, especially his horns and since Zuka ‘thinks it’s stupid’ he usually asks you or Sword to trim them, then it’s difficult to repair his arm when he only has the one to use

- Speaking of his arm it has occurred more than once where you slept over at his or he slept at your and the next morning you have to spend 5 minutes finding his fucking leg because he put it somewhere the night before and can’t remember where so he can’t fucking walk, he gets all grumbly and huffy even when you remind him it’s his fault he doesn’t know where his leg is, if your at his place and you just cannot find it he puts on an old one that’s not bionic and is more like a peg leg and hobbles around to help you find it

- For dates he probably enjoys movie nights, semi fancy dinners, gaming into the early morning, a lot of quality time stuff, but don’t get him wrong his love language is physical touch during all of it he’s touching you somewhere, arm, leg, head, whatever, something of his is on you or something of yours is on him

- Chronic clothes thief, hoodie? Rocket is gaslighting you into thinking it’s always been his, but not actually it’s a silly goofy thing not a toxic thing, some accessory you wear commonly? You take it off for a second and he’s got it on, don’t even get started on if he spends the night at your place, you wake up after him and nothing he’s wearing is his, it is all from your closet

- DO NOT LET THIS MAN IN THE KITCHEN. Early on in the relationship he offered to make you breakfast, Zuka had to grab a fire extinguisher. You learned a valuable lesson to never let him cook, he forgot the water in ramen, SIX TIMES. If you can’t cook either you guys eat a lot of take out or rely on Zuka, luckily he can cook, though some of it is solider ration meals because of his past, so honestly if you also can’t cook you might just wanna pick up food for everyone’s sakes

- He feels ashamed about his past and hates talking to you about it, it was a awful part of his life and he has the scars to prove it, you don’t push which he is grateful for as he doesn’t want you to think less of him for the violence and anger that was teenage him

hope you enjoyed! i had fun writing it and j think it’s good, i feel like i’m missing something though, idk its midnight maybe im just over thinking lol, if i do remember i forgot something i’ll add it

[flieslikeamoron]

For the ask meme, I wish you would write a Steddie teen comedy AU. Plotwise it could run the gamut from Some Kind of Wonderful to Bring It On, and they don't have to be teens (but they could be).

I haven’t forgotten these! I started an Adventures in Babysitting one for this prompt too, so I’m going to try to post that one if I can get a bit farther with it. But this one is The Breakfast Club. Maybe too obvious, but it’s a classic for a reason. Around 2K. There’s a handjob and a slur.

-*-

If anyone asked Eddie, he would say he was relieved to be locked in this supply closet for the last hour of Saturday detention. Why would he want to waste any more of his time with a brain, a loner, a band geek, and the fucking King of Hawkins High? Fuck them, he’d say. At least in here he’s got some peace and quiet. He’d be lying, but that’s what he’d say.

He’s sitting on the floor, scribbling a few notes for his next D&D session in a beat up spiral bound and trying not to wonder what they’re doing without him, when the lock turns on the outside of the door. Eddie looks up, putting on the threatening scowl as easy as he would a hat. Fucking Principal Hig-

It’s not Principal Higgins.

Steve Harrington steps inside the closet and closes it with a soft click behind him. He leans back against the door, his arms crossed over his chest. Eddie hides his confusion behind a sneer as he climbs to his feet and tucks the folded notebook in his back pocket.

“You lost, your highness?”

Harrington snorts, a rough chuckle in the back of his throat. “You’re so full of shit, Munson.”

The laugh is startled out of him. “Noticed that, did you?” Eddie cocks his head. “That a general statement or did I do something specific to offend you?” 

It’s a ridiculous question. He’s been doing everything he could to offend the guy all day long. He can’t really explain why. Harrington’s not even as bad as he thought. Just doesn’t realize how lucky he is. To be born rich. And hot. And straight. Everything Eddie isn’t. Everything Eddie hates. Except it’s not hate that makes Eddie’s heart speed up every time Harrington runs his hand through his perfect hair or smiles with his perfect mouth. Twisting Eddie up inside just by standing there with his perfect preppy clothes hugging his perfect body. Everything Eddie could never have. So maybe Eddie’s been taking it out on him a little. 

Harrington doesn’t bother answering, he just takes a couple deliberate steps closer. His eyes dark and set on Eddie. If he thinks Eddie’s going to back down, he hasn’t been paying attention. Harrington doesn’t give either, only stopping when they’re chest to chest. Eddie can smell his expensive aftershave. His infuriatingly perfect mouth just a inch away. Eddie tilts his chin up, eyebrows raised, heart pounding. He puts on a smirk. “You gonna take a swing, big boy? Or are you-” 

Harrington closes that inch and kisses Eddie’s open mouth. 

What?

And now Eddie is giving ground, giving way under the shocking heat of Harrington’s mouth against his, until Harrington has him pressed up against a filing cabinet. A handle poking into his shoulderblade and Steve fucking Harrington’s hands fisted in his hair. His head spinning as he grabs onto the stupid polo that’s been driving him crazy all day, and tries to give as good as he’s getting. 

Everything disappears but the heat of Harrington’s body and the wet of his mouth and the ache of Eddie getting hard. But then Harrington pulls back. Not far, but enough to meet Eddie’s eyes. Enough to breathe. As soon as there’s space to breathe, there’s space to think. And the rest of the world comes rushing in. The fear comes rushing in. 

This is a joke. It has to be. It’s a fucking- It’s a trick. And Eddie fell for it. Showed Harrington he was right. Everyone who said it was right. Whoever wrote it in the boy’s bathroom across from the cafeteria was right. Eddie Munson is a fag. The thing is people say shit all the time. They say Eddie Munson worships satan. They say Eddie Munson is a wastoid. A criminal. They say Eddie Munson is a freak. Everybody’s looking for a weakness. A way to make the other guy bleed. They can talk all the shit they want, but they don’t know. They only know as much as you give them, and Eddie doesn’t give anybody anything. Except he just did. Now Harrington knows, and he’s going to- Well, he isn’t doing anything, actually. Except looking at Eddie like he’s waiting for him to catch up.

“Why did you do that?” It comes out softer than Eddie meant for it to.

“Because I wanted to. Because I knew you wouldn’t.” Harrington smiles a little, and adds with a weird amount of fondness in his voice. “Chickenshit.” 

Yeah. The guy really has his number. Eddie tilts his head to acknowledge the hit. “Fair enough,” he says. “But circling back to you wanted to.” It turns into a question sort of at the end.

He’s expecting Harrington to take it back or something, but his voice doesn’t crack. He doesn’t stutter. “That’s what I said.” He’s got that look on his face though. Like he had when he was high on Eddie’s weed and talking about his dad. Talking about disappointing him. Talking about the fact that he doesn’t know sometimes if there’s anything he could do to be good enough for him. He’s got that look like he’s saying things he hasn’t said out loud before. 

It’s not like Eddie has anything to lose at this point. The damage is done, and if Harrington’s not playing some catch a homo game then- “Could you… Want to again?” He clarifies, “Like now?”

He doesn’t sound steady. He stutters. He’s not making sense. But Harrington doesn’t even tease him for it. Just curls a broad hand against the curve of his neck and leans in to kiss him again.

Steve Harrington kisses like he’s had a lot of practice, which is not surprising. He’s a generous kisser, which kind of is. He gives Eddie his open mouth when he wants it. Gives Eddie his tongue, his teeth. Gives Eddie his thigh to rub off on. Tilts his head back agreeably when Eddie caves to the long standing urge to lick his throat. To bite. He gives Eddie a gorgeous groan, his eyes closing. Perfect dark eyelashes on his perfect flushed skin. And then he’s giving Eddie a hand on the hard bulge of his dick. He’s popping the button on Eddie’s jeans so he can slip his hand inside, past his waistband, inside his underwear. Holy-

“Exactly how high are you?” The weed Eddie shared was pretty shitty, but it was obvious from the first drag that Harrington isn’t much of a stoner. Might even have been his first time, though he refused to admit it.

“I’m not high.” Harrington’s forehead brushes against his, so close Eddie can feel his breath on his cheek. “I’m a little high,” he admits. His hand is still inside Eddie’s pants. “So what?”

“So how much of this is-”

“I’ve done it before.” Harrington gets Eddie’s pants open, gets Eddie’s dick out. Eddie grunts at the skin to skin contact, eyes closing with that first real slide up the shaft. “Just let me.” 

He’s fucking done it before? When? With who? Eddie feels like he’s been blindsided with a dodgeball to the back of the head. Something Harrington actually did to him in gym a couple years ago. Questions piling up inside him, images trying to flash into his head. He wants to ask, but it’s hard to think with Harrington’s hand on his dick. 

Jesus. He’s just standing there sweating and panting like he’s never had his dick touched before. He can’t let this fucking prep show him up. He’s touched more dicks than Steve Harrington has, he’s sure of it. He reaches to get Harrington’s jeans open, feeling kind of out of body as he watches his hand circle the vivid hot length of his dick. That’s Steve Harrington’s dick. In his hand. A good weight against his palm, the soft skin catching a little. He pulls off to spit in his hand. He knows what the fuck he’s doing. He’s going to give Harrington the best handjob he’s ever had in his life.

For a little while there's nothing but the building ache in his balls, the sweet, slick tug on his dick. Harrington’s mouth against his. The insistent kisses that are stealing Eddie’s breath while he works Eddie over, winding him up so tight he can barely concentrate on keeping his own hand moving. One hand digging into Harrington’s sleeve for dear life and the other stripping his dick like he’s gonna get graded on it later. Eddie hoards every little sound he draws from Harrington’s throat, every sigh, every choked off groan. He’s trying not to go off too fast, but those sounds, and Harrington’s body pinning him to the filing cabinet, and the relentless stroke of his hand…

He clamps down on Harrington’s arm as he comes, teeth gritting, feeling the patch on Harrington’s jacket sleeve tearing loose a bit under Eddie’s grip. He wants it suddenly. Wants to hear the thread popping, wants to tear and take and have. Harrington’s head lifts, lips coming away from the curve of Eddie’s chin. His hand loosening on Eddie’s spent dick. He watches Eddie with heavy lidded eyes as he tears the patch all the way off, leaving a circle of ragged thread. He meets Eddie’s eyes, raises his eyebrows.

“Souvenir?” Eddie says. 

“Put it on your vest.” He’s a little breathless, but doesn’t seem to be pissed Eddie just vandalized his pristine letterman.

“I fucking will,” Eddie says, eyebrows raised like it was a dare. Maybe it was. Harrington’s hips are moving, nudging his dick into Eddie’s fist, his hand tight in Eddie’s hair as he gets close. Eddie watches him tip over the edge, his neck straining, his mouth open. Eddie almost wishes he hadn’t seen it. That he didn’t know exactly what Steve Harrington looks like when he comes. It’s going to haunt him for the rest of his life. He ducks in to take one more kiss while Harrington is still come dumb, before he comes to his senses. Harrington kisses him back for longer than Eddie would have expected. But then, he’s been finding out all day that Harrington is not quite what he expected.

“Fuck,” Harrington says, pulling back slowly. “I have to get back before Higgins comes to let us out of the library.” He makes it sound like an apology. Like he would stay if he could. He’s probably good at that though. As good as he is at kissing. Just as much practice with smoothing over awkward morning afters. 

After a long moment he steps back, turns toward the door. “See you Monday, Munson.” 

They look each other over, making sure they’re somewhat presentable. Nobody’s dick out. Jizz mostly contained. Harrington does have a couple red marks on his throat, and his mouth is swollen in a way that makes that tear, take, have feeling surge up again. Eddie wonders if there are any marks on him, if his hair is a mess. Harrington straightens Eddie’s jacket. He tweaks one of the buttons on Eddie’s vest and steps back. Looks at Eddie for a long moment. Maybe to see if there’s anything incriminating he missed. But Eddie thinks maybe- Maybe he’s just looking. Like Eddie’s looking at him. Memorizing. 

“Hey,” Eddie says. Harrington hesitates with his hand on the doorknob. And Eddie doesn’t want to say it. It’s fucking pathetic, he shouldn’t- But he wants to know. He needs to know. “Will you still know my name on Monday?” Harrington looks back at him. “It’s Eddie, by the way.”

Harrington hesitates instead of just lying, which Eddie has to give him credit for. Actually seems to think about it, chewing on his lip. Maybe picturing Eddie coming up to him in the cafeteria when he’s got all the jocks, the popular kids, hanging on his every word. Looking for weaknesses. He meets Eddie’s eyes, and flashes a little smile. Not a perfect smile, a bit uncertain, but honest. Devastating. “Yeah,” he says simply. “Will you know mine?” 

Eddie does him the courtesy of really thinking about it too. About all the shit he and his friends talk about the preps and the jocks. He’s made full on speeches at the top of his lungs. He’s torn Steve into pieces more than once for the amusement of his friends. Steve’s looking at him, a little cynical. Like he thinks he knows the answer. Eddie doesn’t want to be what he expects. Eddie doesn’t want to pretend this never happened.

“Simon?” Eddie says, pointing at him like this is the first time they’ve met. “No, I’ve got it, I remember, it’s uh-” 

Steve rolls his eyes, shaking his head.

“Steve,” Eddie says, before he can get too fed up. The smile he gets is worth it.

Steve opens the door just a crack to make sure the hallway is clear. Says, “See you Monday, Eddie,” with a wink. Then slips outside and closes the door behind him. 

As soon as Eddie’s alone again, it’s hard to believe he didn’t make the whole thing up. It would be a lot easier to buy that he’s totally lost it, just having full on hallucinations. But he’s still holding Steve’s patch in his hand. There’s still a little jizz on his shoe. It happened. And on Monday- Well, who knows. Monday’s practically a lifetime away. It’s easy to pretend when the halls are empty and nobody’s around but a brain, a loner, a band geek, a criminal and the King of Hawkins High. Eddie would be stupid to think anything that happened today will survive Monday coming. But he’ll put that fucking patch on his vest. He’ll wear it like a dare. And maybe Steve will surprise him again.

[electricmagazine]

Public Shock as Megumi Fushiguro Refuses to do Promotional Video

The Jujutsu Kaisen star says he “doesn’t understand” why he was “suddenly grouped differently” for the interviews

The entertainment world was shaken on Monday when the Jujutsu Kaisen official twitter account announced that they were cancelling their planned promotional interviews due to “lack of participation” on the actors’ parts. While fans were outraged and demanded to know what happened, Megumi Fushiguro took a leap, stepped out, and took the blame.

“Stop sending hate mail to the cast,” he tweeted. “I chose not to be part of the interviews, and my friends stood with me. There were some problems, but we’re working through them.”

The star went on to explain via replies that he felt the groupings for the interviews were problematic, and that there was a simple solution that he’d like the promotions team to employ.

In an interview with Electric Magazine, he said, “I don’t understand why I was suddenly grouped differently. For every other interview I did, specifically those for season one, I was grouped with characters and actors I was connected with – Yuji, Nobara, Satoru, whoever. Season two has brought in a few minor characters, including my character’s biological dad… I just don’t think my character should be grouped with his biological dad over his friends.

“Promotions thought it was a good idea to group our characters together because in the show, we’re related. But it doesn’t work like that. My character hates his dad, why are they putting us in an interview together?”

Fushiguro also specified that he meant no hate towards Toji, the man who plays his character’s father in the show, but he thought it made little sense for their characters to be in the same interview.

Other cast members also stepped in with messages of support for Fushiguro, including co-star Yuji Itadori and adoptive father Satoru Gojo.

“Biological relations mean nothing when someone has been abandoned. This may seem overdramatic to some, but these interview groupings are an insult to adoptive, found, and loving family,” the famous actor wrote.

“No-one should have to bring up their personal life in public to have their voice heard. Everyone who has a brain would know these groupings are completely wrong. Stay strong Megumi, you’re doing the right thing,” Shoko Ieri replied to the emotive post.

“good for you megumi. stand up to those ignorant idiots,” Nobara Kugisaki tweeted, complete with a picture of her and Fushiguro together.

“Megumi’s character already has a dad. Biological does not mean family. Things will never be right until the producers understand this,” wrote Itadori.

“I will not being doing the interview until Megumi can do his,” was Kento Nanami’s bold stance.

Amongst a split and conflicted fanbase, the official twitter simply tweeted, “We did not realise our actors would feel strongly about their interview groups and we had no intention to offend. The groups will be fixed ASAP and hopefully the interviews will go ahead.”

Many viewers felt this was an unfeeling response to Fushiguro’s genuine problem, with one even replying, “This just proves that the industry doesn’t care. It’s not about whether the interviews can go ahead, it’s about why it was deemed appropriate to group Megumi with a minor, unrelated character in the first place.”

Outcry against the producers and promotions teams seemed endless, with #jjkpromo and #staystrongmegumi trending for weeks across all platforms. Most felt that it had been a stupid decision from the start, since Megumi was a main character and should therefore be with the other main characters regardless of who he was related to. Others felt that extra sensitivity was needed due to Fushiguro’s own background, which was clearly the root of his ‘interview strike’.

“Yeah, I’m adopted,” he told Electric Magazine. “And yeah, that’s probably why I care so much. But the point stands. This character is unrelated to mine; this character is a minor, abusive father who my character despises. It’s not okay to normalise healing those relationships or still associating these people together.

“If I was someone who was abandoned by an abusive father – and I’m not, but many people are – how would I feel to know that the media still considers us family? How would I feel knowing that society prioritises that biological relationship over the connections I’d built with my friends?

“I guess this could be seen as overdramatic. It’s just an interview. I know. But it represents so much more; it’s a signal flare from the media and I’m not willing to let it go past me.”

Eventually, even Toji stepped forward, tweeting, “I’ve been quiet because I don’t know what to say, but I see I need to say something. Megumi is right to protest this grouping. I thought it was odd that we were put together as we don’t even share any scenes, but I see know it could have become weaponised. #istandwithmegumi.”

Electric will keep updating as events unfold.

[1moreff-creator]

How the LGI MV proves MonoTVid is both canon and a doomed ship

In this totally serious analysis post, I will show you, with 100% irrefutable evidence, that MonoTVid (the common ship name for MonoTV x David) is destined to be both canon and a doomed ship. This is in honor of them recently winning that one poll in The Website Formerly Known As Twitter, a poll which I do not entirely understand but one which I will respect regardless.

I will not accept any criticism on this post. I am objectively correct. If you find mistakes in this post, then what you’ve found is a mistake in your brain.

Obviously a TV, Obviously a Ship

Observe.

Now, do you understand?

If you don’t, let me spell it out for you. We have what is “obviously a TV” with terrorist iconography, which obviously represents MonoTV, nearby several elements which clearly represent David. The hair clips, the megaphone, the dummy. You’ll see “dummies” is plural, because David is a dummy. This is the first clue to the tsundenderish nature of David, as he is literally calling himself a “baka”, perhaps even of the sussy variety. If he calls himself “baka”, could he use the same word to describe someone else?

But the true indication of this ship is the lemon on top of the TV. See, the lemon in the story “Lemon” by the man who wrote the story “Lemon”, whoever he was, is a lemon which represents, despite being a lemon, a person’s will to live. If you want further context on this lemon, read the background text near the lemon when the lyric “make a lemon bomb” shows up on screen, near the lemon. You think I’m gonna post an image of the lemon text near the lemon? No. You should know the lemon text near the lemon by heart.

Anyways, this lemon is obviously on top of the TV to represent that MonoTV is David’s reason to live. There are no other possible interpretations.

But you may also see those dandelions, labeled “weeds”. Weed is what I’m taking to make this post. Not cannabis, I am sniffing dandelions. This is besides the point.

Now, you’ll realize that since dandelions represent happiness, and even hope, the point the video tries to make with them is that David sees these things as annoying weeds. This shows MonoTV and David both hate hope. They are clearly lovers.

But what you didn’t notice, and I know you didn’t notice for I am in your walls, is footnote 18: “A/N: soz not very good at drawing flowers lol!!!”. See, David is the author of these notes, which is obvious from things like footnote 11, the “I am an only child” one. What this footnote means is that David gave these flowers to MonoTV, but he’s embarrassed about it, because he doesn’t think any gift can match the divine splendor of MonoTV. David is just that sweet. That much of a cinnamon roll who can do no wrong. A skrunkly. A blorbo. What other words can I use to brainwash Tumblr users.

Now, look at these.

Look at the balloon and the Monokuma plushie. Does my inconsistent coloring of “the” bother you? I am very evil. You’ll see the balloon is labeled “stupid kid’s toy”, while the plushie is “a popular toy”.

Now, you might think this is another indication that David sees anything related to hope, like balloons, as inherently childish and stupid. Meanwhile, he sees anything related to despair, like Monokuma, as more grounded.

You are wrong.

You seem, MonoTV has stated Monokuma is its dad. So this being in the video means that MonoTV is David’s daddy and his toy. I’ll explain when you’re older. Just kidding, I won’t. Fuck that.

Not convinced?

Why? I am always right, so you shouldn’t doubt me.

But okay, I guess:

I Will Bring Up Color Theory For The Thousandth Post In A Row

I am not linking the accirax post for the fiftieth time. Look it up yourself.

Look:

Yellow for David, cyan for MonoTV. Many have tried to come up with an answer for what “original” means, but it’s actually really simple.

See, David has an I. You wanna know who else has an I? Dark blue, which may be J. And J is the mastermind. Here’s the source for that, it’s somewhere in that video, you just have to find it.

So, J, who is the mastermind and thus essentially MonoTV, has the same letter as David. This clearly shows David and MonoTV are lovers.

Here’s another case of a cyan I.

Boom. Theorizing’s easy.

Then, look.

David has game in yellow, then MonoTV has game in cyan. They’re lovers. Do you find another explanation? No, no you don’t. You will not think critically about this post. You are not immune to MonoTVid propaganda.

But, alas, the ship is not to last.

David is a Cat

At the beginning of the video:

David calls himself a cat, then MonoTV shows up to remind us it’s a dog. You might think it doesn’t mean much, but there actually is meaning behind David being a cat. See, it’s related to the archaic Japanese pronoun “wagahai”, referenced-

Nah, you don’t care about that. David’s a cat, source just trust me bro.

That’s what the black and white cat sitting next to David actually represents: David, tied by color scheme to MonoTV. I’m writing this on my phone and don’t feel like waiting to get to a computer to get past the 10 image limit, so we’re out of visuals.

Why is this important? Well, if you take into account the Romeo and Juliet quote that footnote 8 is attached to (here’s a screenshot), it’s clear the MV is trying to convey a story of two people in love separated by fate. This is clearly about David and MonoTV, which is further represented by David being represented by a cat when MonoTV is obviously a dog. Truly sad. Can I get an amen?

Are you not convinced yet? Crazy. Well, one last thing then.

It’s All Democratic

“To be or not to be? Who knows? Let’s decide! Democratic-ly”

You see how the rules for class trials are on the same image as democratic-ly? Well, this is a clear reference to the poll on The Website Formerly Known As Twitter. Since MonoTVid was chosen as the winner of said poll, it was chosen “democratically”, and will thus become a canon doomed ship. You might wonder if this means the dev has the ability to see the future. But we are not to speculate on the dev’s identity, so while we can’t theorize they are clairvoyant, we also can’t speculate they aren’t. Checkmate.

In fact, The Website Formerly Known As Twitter is now sometimes referred to as “X”, an obvious reference to the X on this screen. Because surely no one would be so absolutely idiotic as to just name the website “X” for no reason.

But hold on, isn’t this X actually Roman numeral 10 for Min?

Well, obviously. We never saw Min’s corpse in her execution, which means she survived and is the second mastermind alongside J. Min is still alive. Min is still alive. Min is still alive. Min is still-

Am I a Whit Young kinnie, but specifically for Min? No, obviously. Because Min isn’t like Whit’s mom, because Min is still alive.

The point is, Min is related back to MonoTV through her mastermind-y nature, and MonoTV to MonoTVid, I’m too lazy to actually continue writing this post.

—————————————————————————

Did you actually read this all the way to end? Are you okay? Do you need a hug? Because this is insane. I don’t know why I made this. Take care!

[rowanthestrange]

i just read the entirety of your Rogue is the Bad Guy essay, and i’ll admit, you’ve convinced me, but not that he’s the Master, but that he’s trying to cosplay the Master cosplaying whoever. Also, it was really long so, like, i’m asking with full concern: are you okay? it just seemed like it took a ridiculous amount of time /lh

What I think is the case, probably 51% the Master. Just squeaks it.

What I want is Chuldur/Pantheon member ‘The’ Rogue cosplaying the Master cosplaying Jack. I’d prefer it by a very large margin. A huge one. But as to whether I think it will happen, I give that 49%. But that’s still good odds.

(I’ve got a lot of Pantheon!Rogue feels, ideas, and desires and have had nowhere else to put them yet, and this is a valid place to share them, rip. And to anyone else who followed the first Essay, let me convince you of my secondary Sub-Thesis in it.)

I’m giving that seemingly crazy high 49% despite the risky complexity of double-layering, because A) that was the Ruby resolution: she cosplayed the bird cosplaying as her - we’ve done it already and everyone got it.

And B)…Is actually complicated literal-meta but hear me out. Since they’re the only other writers this season I think there’s a very high chance they’re forerunners for next showrunners. I know at least one has high level management experience, and if they were given that as a test to do highly complex work to cut their teeth, this would be an incredibly good test that they passed imo. The Master is in themselves hard to write but necessary to fully comprehend because even when not present they are a lynchpin of the show. Here you’d have to write him well. But also effectively set up two twists (that he’s the Master, and then that he’s not he’s just pretending he is). You have to establish a Pantheon member - make an important part of an overarching narrative. And link together with other writers current and past. As well as create a good story with all functioning meta, on multiple levels.

The second you let Rogue be The Bad Guy the complexity of literally everything skyrockets anyway. (And one of the reason I’m a little annoyed that people want to believe he’s so flat - it does the writers a deep disservice to just think they wrote Space Darcy and there’s no shared metaplot there). But while Russell likes a certain amount of simplicity — Occam’s Razor 51% Master — RTD2 has been having fun with more complicated stuff, more prior-knowledge and using that, more thinking needed if you’re going to get the answers early. I think if he was going to give future showrunners something hard to do this would be it. For me Chuldur/Pantheon!Rogue is the pinnacle of that while still being perfectly possible to pull off to casuals without too much brainache. ‘The American accent guys, come on.’

I certainly think they have seeded all they need to, obviously can’t grade without seeing the full execution. And they certainly succeeded in writing ‘the Master’ well. Rewatching that ending? That actually got to me. And I’m a wall. I hated him which is what makes an actually good Master/Master-Proxy - you can neither go too far with that or the character becomes too unenjoyable (Simm!Master), but also too little with the hatred being turned almost entirely into pity (fandom), or even just they’re pretty purely enjoyable (Missy - but she’s an odd duck anyway), also robs them of something essential. This is pitched very well. Test passed on that score.

If my preference and height of percentage seems confusing, to me it makes no difference when talking about them whether he’s the Master or The Rogue perfectly playing the Master. Because if he’s perfectly playing him, as his Pantheon power should presumably allow him to do, it tells us about the Master anyway, so I don’t actually feel any need to differentiate most of the time. Certainly in The Essay it seemed stupid to bog it down with that and risk confusing the people still on ‘but he’s a good guy’ where it wasn’t necessary, because all arguments stay basically the same for a perfect copy. I trusted the reader to apply the level of abstraction themselves for the most part, only coming in with that where I thought something could be particularly relevant/missed in regard to that specifically. Muddying the issue with too repetitiously focusing on ‘remember it called also be a perfect Master cosplay’ and that seemingly complicated (even if I think valid) double-layering didn’t feel like the right call for something where just Rogue Is Playing The Bad Guy was already a hard sell to who I wanted to reach. Ymmv.

The only things that give me pause are that 1: The implication that he’s cloaked seems very high - the earring interference, psychic scents can mask real ones, seeming lack of recognition by allies (until the end I think - they shut up while he’s doing the scene rather than threaten or beg for their lives) etc. The Pantheon seem to have a lot of reality twisting powers. You wouldn’t need to, surely? You’d need to have a reason other than ‘same devices too close’ for that interference which starts the whole thing at minimum and I think ‘he made it happen for the Doctor to come over’ is too cheaty. And 2: The Bag. Why would you need to pack a bag and ensure you have it on you at the end if you can just snap your fingers?

But could be that it actually just contains his dice and he’s a stickler for doing things manually - think of daddy here, rules and ways to do things and following structure while also being creative within those constrictions. Which also very much applies to Dungeon Masters (won’t lie, the ‘Master’ part of that is what eeks it to 51% for just being him). This could come up, it’s feasible.

A Chuldur needing the teleport is also fair of course. And would want the psychic jewellery for the reverse of Ruby - being a Chuldur who needs to smell human to keep the gang on their toes and unsuspecting it’s him.

And there are lots of little things that complement the Pantheon element. We have the dancing scene where the lights dim. We have the fact he’s working with alternate dimension creatures and knows a lot about them. Certainly shows no fear at being sent to an alternate dimension once he’s got what he wanted. We have the American accent. We have him probably having watched Doctor Who like Bridgerton because he’s very familiar with Jack’s introductory episodes with all the references. We have the Vitamin String Quartet’s cover of ‘I’m The Bad Guy’ - Dungeon Masters love making playlists for their scenes, so why wouldn’t he (and also Theme of Music)? Maybe he doesn’t overtly use his powers during The Session because that sort of ugly manipulation of the world is cheap and bad DMing. Daddy liked the Spice Girls, why wouldn’t he like Kylie? He’s a game player like daddy but there’s no winning D&D, especially as DM, which makes an easy natural conflict between them. And we need at least one Pantheon member, cus while I think this is actually just a set-up season for them, there needs to be at least four, really five to truly feel ‘Pantheon’, three would be bare minimum and not enough for when the shit actually starts to go down next season, need at least four by then. I’m assuming we see one: The Writer, or The Audience, or Death or (The Twist At) The End/Grand Finale or whatever else you interpret the oldest one/one who waits to be, in the finale itself.

And this means we get a new (and if Pantheon rather than Chuldur) long-term character. Cosplaying the Master means The Rogue isn’t a copy of them, can just be playing The Bad Guy cus it’s fun right now, but they themselves don’t have to be Master-like, they can be anything. Something new. Anyone who knows me knows I wanted more rogue Time Lords and these guys are like that but with magic powers - what’s not to love? If The Rogue is a Joker, A Wildcard, and they just become a character that fills a void, that’s fascinating. Or they want to create exciting stories whatever that means and become whatever NPCs necessary to drive them on, that’s so interesting. Or they’re guided by being whatever they find cool much like the birds, with all the capricious ‘eh, bored now I’m wrapping this story up’ of a greek god (cus, well.) with all the associated dangers and disregard of these not being characters but people they’re playing with, and also expects there to be no hard feelings after The Session is over and next time it’s a new one. Can they perfectly roleplay a character but still break character if needed, or are they locked in to it until The Session’s done? Do they believe themself to have a ‘real’ personality or is that all fuzzy? Or all of the above. You could go anywhere from standard villain to a full Chaotic Neutral with that. And all the implications you could have of their power being to perfectly roleplay a person. And I use ‘they’ here because surely this is the most genderfluid a character you could get. The Rogue could literally be the red-nailed woman who picked up the gold tooth, think about that. How perfect would that be. Maybe that’s what’s in the bag. Live Tooth Reaction To The Kiss Not Clickbait. A character that could literally be anyone at any time, we would never know peace again. If Susan Twist appearing everywhere is something Pantheony, The Rogue is the inverse of this. Siblings maybe.

And see my Christmas Special pitch. Which is both a joke, but also an example of what fun you could have with The Rogue if you wanted. It doesn’t have to be pure heartbreak and misery Master 2.0. Especially if they are as seems here, a god not just trying to entertain themselves, but also entertain others. D&D requires a group, it’s co-operative, we see Rogue appear to adapt rather than (in any way immediately evident to us at least) externally force the story a certain way like a good DM. He never shoots the birds or threatens to or gets them in actual danger despite the in-character reasons to, and they looked like they all had fun - besides squished beak #5. But also sees NPCs as little more than set dressing as we ourselves would in a D&D game. What a dynamic that could be in a Pantheon god. It’s unique. Which is so valuable. A Chuldur slightly less interesting in that score but still.

If it is the Master I’ll be fine and accept it, but I want this, because it does double duty. It might as well have been a Master episode as it has most of the benefits of one (for me anyway), but also gives us all this new possibility and complexity on top of it. Those options are currently open and I want it.

It’s not popular, but I’m really pro trusting the writers. All of them. They’re smart. And I know these two just seem like randoms, but I doubt they are, they could be our new mothers, and I really think that while the Pantheon Rogue option is complex, it’s viable and has so much scope. If I hate people trying to see Rogue as flat Space Darcy because it shows zero belief in the writers, then I gotta do the opposite and entertain the option that they have intelligently created a deep and complex story, and have taken that to the end of the road. Even if complicated is by nature less likely than simple.

also lol I started The Essay at around 11pm sunday, wrote til gone 4am. Then woke up at 9:30am and wrote solidly plus edits until about 4am, and in-between edited the subtitles into that video. Am I ok? Physically, yes. Mentally, probably not. It is literally 10k and that’s why I made the joke. But I’ve done infinitely worse writing fanfics so...

EDIT:

‘Chuldur/Pantheon member The Rogue cosplaying the Master’ has just flipped into the dominant reading! Alert! Alert! Cus he’d never do this about him literally being the Master. If he’s acknowledging we’re having the feelings we’re intended to have, there’s another twist in it.

I officially move The Rogue Cosplaying The Master to 55% from 49% likelihood, and Rogue Is Just The Master down to 45% from 51%. You may wish to adjust your stock investment accordingly.

[pixiecactus]

sorry nonnie for the second time, and thank you for your patience!

but i think that i need to make this a separate post completely, but i'll start putting up the first part of your ask here, if you don't mind (i really hope you don't!)

to get people on board of what i will be talking about here, let me show you the quote once again and give you the link to the fanfic.

the supposed grrm quote is this:

“Okay so GRRM, arrived in Toronto yesterday for a book signing and unfortunately because of an exam, I was unable to attend (BOO!) so I asked my friend to ask him about Gendry and Arya’s “relationship” and if they would ever reunite again. His response was that Arya and Gendry have separate futures but whether they’ll ever meet up again, you’ll just have to keep reading.”

the fanfic is called the lost wolf and in chapter 21, you can find the first time that this quote was posted.

About G/A and the separate futures phase. Whoever published it was a very dedicated shipper who got devastated by his response. I don't think anyone would lie about that because this fan was genuinely very upset over this.

what i can say about this (for the second time because i lost what i had written as a response completely before) is that i recognize the username of the writer, and yeah, the fic was published in 2012, so we can say it was a different time... but i made the mistake of reading the fic in which the quote was posted, and this is not me trying to discredit the writer as a gendrya shipper, but oh my god, how i wish i hadn't read that fic at all; i have so many problems with it and the characterization.

i'm going to put the link to the google doc i made here, in case someone wants to share the suffering i went through. no one is obligated to read it, but i think that is going to help to support a little bit of what i'm going to write next about the author. but then again, let's put a little reminder here that everything i'm going to say is my own assumption and that this person seems to no longer have a presence on the internet or in the asoiaf fandom to defend themselves.

now here's my opinion, so if you have read my ranting session, i think that would make sense for you what i'm about to write next: i'm like 95% sure that the author was pretty young when this was posted. why? you may ask because the characters act in ways that are nonsensical to an adult with a fully developed frontal lobe. here's where my own experiences come into play to defend this opinion of mine, but i did write a fic like this when i was a kid; i was around 12 or 13 at that time, i'd like to say that it wasn't this awful in comparison, because there wasn't a rape storyline in it, but the main couple surely had moments where they were hating each other and threatening to break up because of a stupid and idiotic misunderstanding like "you didn't look my way when i was talking to you... so you don't love anymore" and the classic "i love you but i kissed x person or x person kissed me and now i think that i may love them and not you, my honest mistake" thankfully i didn't have an internet connection available at the time and my home's computer was back in my house (duh!) and i spent most of my childhood at my aunt's house, so i wrote those fics the good old fashion way with a pen and a notebook, and now those notebooks are lost to time and the act of moving out.

another point that is more credible than my own word is that in the author's note this person talks about going to school most of the time; that's the chosen word, i believe if they were in university they'd just say so. also this person said that they have a job, and i know that child labor laws are different around the world, but it seems that this person was based in canada, since the "quote" mentions grrm in toronto, so the info i could find about it told me this:

the lack of any other people's accounts that could collaborate on this info as truth, it's what does it for me. i think that if it was a truthful statement, we would have a lot more info about it. since the author's friend wasn't the only one who was at this book signing, there would be a lot more people around them both and within hearing range... but everything you see about this quote is a short copy and paste.

after all this time, why don't we have any kind of official source? it's been 12 years; that's more than enough time for it to appear somewhere; a reputable source would be the most ideal of all, though.

it's just people lie for attention all the time on the internet, and it's more common for kids to do it too... so i tend to lean that this is the case here.

i can admit that this "quote" absolutely wrecked me during my teen years, but now as an adult, i see it more as asoiaf's very own "my uncle works at nintendo" type of rumor.

i know that i'm not making a strong case because i don't have the intellect for it, so i think that this post is more food for thought than anything else.

now i promise you anon that the next thing i'll post is your ask with my answer, and i'll give the little spoiler that i actually agree with you

[bonefall]

Oooh, can you talk about the meta reason you rewrote the blizzard holly relationship and blackstar's backstory?

HOKAY

But I'm gonna preface this one; I hate Blackfoot's Reckoning. I think it's one of the most "solid" written books in the series and I still fucking hate it. I talk about authoritarianism on this blog a lot, and I think BFR was the one time that the series actually tried to textually address what they'd put on the page.

So TW for fascism, including discussion of an incredibly unfortunate quote from the book that is either an accidental or purposeful invocation of the Nuremberg Defense.

Blackfoot's Reckoning is a book that's supposed to delve into Blackfoot's backstory, what made him the cat he was during TPB. Throughout the book they're questioning, "what made him act the way he did?" And trying to drive home that Blackfoot needs to learn from his mistakes so that he doesn't repeat them

But, at the same time, they cling to their slimy Good and Evil dichotomy. So the book decides that Blackstar wasn't an Evil cat, no, he was just a Good Mislead Boy Who Loved His Clan. He's constantly lied to, mislead, people are murdered and he's duped into believing whoever gets framed, suppressing critical thought about his actions. They're trying to both write a "reckoning," but also make his motivations more sympathetic.

So in between questions of, "Is Blackstar really a Bad Boy?" and happy rewards for Blackstar when he goes through a memory, they've decided to shove in replays of Blackstar's most gruesome moments but this time he frowns :( and feels Guilty when he does them. In the eyes of the writers, if you feel sad doing hate crimes, that means there's a goodness inside of you actually.

And just like Clear Sky, all Blackstar "needed" was divine intervention. You can simply retcon in a "reckoning," even if it was never in the main series for the 10+ years the character was alive and active.

But it's not enough that Blackstar himself was getting a stupid retcondemption. No, see, they have to remind you that he was following evil people. The dichotomy inherently crunches away the nuance-- Good and Evil are inherent qualities. Tigerstar and Brokenstar are Evil People. Blackstar asks, "If I was following Evil People, what does that make me?"

The narrative concludes, "A Good Person, but mislead."

And because they can't have nuance with their Good and Evil dichotomy (or couldn't at the time), they failed to address the authoritarianism spectacularly. Think I'm reaching?

They literally wrote the Nuremberg Defense into their book. I'm not doing hyperbole, Blackstar word-for-word thinks the Nuremberg Defense, "I Was Just Following Orders," but then they bury it in a barrage of scenes showing he's Actually A Nice Guy who is Sad to do Bad Things. Either they attempted and failed to do something more meaningful with this book, OR they are so fucking stupid they accidentally included the famous Nazi officer legal defense for a character who DOES A HATE CRIME for a racist dictator.

What was IN TPB was a Blackstar who supported a massacre and expulsion against another group, was complicit in the use of child soldiers, and rehearsed a public execution for a mixed-race character. Like it or not, this is a really heavy subject... and what they decided to do was downplay every one of his actions, because he was good deep down.

And I just find that disgusting. This was ABSOLUTELY the wrong conclusion. They can't show Blackstar ACTUALLY being bigoted. They can't delve into REAL hate, or the idea that maybe he LIKED the power he had over people. Those are Evil People Things. He has to "know," deep down, that what he's doing is wrong.

He cannot have a real change, in spite of the title of the shitty book being Blackfoot's "RECKONING," because he is not bad to begin with.

So, Hollyflower and Blizzardwing.

To recap for everyone who didn't read BFR; Hollyflower is raising her three kits alone because Blizzardwing cheated on Featherstorm with her. Black only learns that he is an accident because he stayed up late one night and overheard an argument. By day, he gets bullied by Clawpaw specifically that he might be mixed-Clan and has to seethe over the truth he knows.

it's dumb. I'm sorry. This is dumb and boring, which is even worse

The war criminal was bullied as a child and that's why he did bad things :( He was good all along he was just sad :( shut up shut up shut up

The "bad environment" he was raised into was... having a single mom and being suspected of maybe being half-clan, but then learning that he isn't half-clan, and being indignant that he can't just share the information he knows about because it would make things complicated or something idk

None of this particularly contributes to his mindset as an adult because he does not HAVE a unique mindset as an adult.

He was just nebulously Sad and followed whatever strongman leader came along, constantly being tricked and bamboozled by outright lies.

"Omg WindClan killed Raggedstar >:0 ??? Oughhhhh that butters my biscuits... was it wrong that Brokenstar sent my baby nephew to battle? No, nevermind that thought that makes me uncomfortable :("

He never has any particular bigotries that were exploited, he was just tricked and mislead the entire time, while also being sad, because God Forbid Blackstar ever have been an 'evil cat'

He gets THANKED by his dead parents for keeping the secret??????????????????? girl ok.....

as usual the bully itself never really gets addressed

It was cheap and easy to just make Blackfoot's backstory the same shitty 'bullying' they write for most villains. This bullying is how he ends up bonding with Brokenkit, a villainous 5-year-old who says, "other cats don't matter" because he's eeeeeevil.

They're supposed to have a commonality connection, Blackstar who is Good Deep Down and Brokenstar who is Evil Deep Down, and that is supposed to serve as the reason why Blackstar willingly blinds himself to the incredibly obviously evil things that his superiors do.

His flaw isn't that he had bad intentions, it's that he didn't think.

FUCK that. FUCK this book. FUCK the Erins for trying to say that there are fundamentally good and bad people. That with the death of Tigerstar, of Brokenstar, of whoever, the society gets to return to 'peace' because now there's no Evil Tyrant to lead everyone astray.

The Erin's depictions of hard childhoods are sauceless. Dry, unbuttered, burnt bread. You want to see a BAD home environment? I'll SHOW you a bad home environment, not just a single teenager being rude. You wanna see the sorts of conditions that prime young people to joining radical causes for a sense of belonging? I'll GIVE you those conditions. Let's TALK about what bounces around in the head of people who aid and abet tyrants.

It's not this dumb ass sadboy shit I'll tell you that much

[awfully-dreadfully]

Here’s the thing with Mary. And this is purely a personal thing, but I still stand by it. I disagree with other people who don’t like her and couldn’t relate so I wrote my own feelings down just to scream into the voice. I could’ve probably have done a better job if I rewatched her scenes but I’d rather not subject myself to that.

I’m not looking to debate, I’m not looking for engagement, I just… really hate her. Lol

I totally support her decision to choose safety and stability over Arthur. I’ve seen other haters and was disappointed by their reasoning. This is rational, and I completely am willing to defend her on this one. She’s not cut out for a certain life and she recognizes that! Not everyone’s an Abigail, a Sadie, or even a Mary-Beth, Tilly, or Karen. And certainly not a Grimshaw. And if she can’t adapt then why would anyone want to force her? I don’t! Sure maybe some gang women could’ve taken her under their wing, maybe they could’ve even gotten along with her and she could’ve saw her father for what he is and start blowing him off. But she still has a little brother to care for, and Jamie is a sweet soft person. They’re soft people but Mary, for all the vitriol I harbor for her, is not one to back down or get pushed around… with one deal breaking exception but we’ll get through there.

Asking for Arthur’s help despite all of the baggage between them… again, no harm no foul. Her little brother who both she and Arthur care about is in a bad situation. It’s the kind of situation where being a big scary outlaw comes in handy, and maybe she thought he needed sense from a man he looked up to. They certainly couldn’t ask daddy to be that to Jamie. And while it is audacious it’s still a fair favor at that point. Again, I think it’s endearing how she’s taken charge for Jamie. At this point in the game I feel disinterested in her but overall ambivalent.

The mission with her father and the resulting date is where I take a nosedive with Mary. I’m sorry but from start to finish she’s unfair, unreasonable, and outright does not care about Arthur or his feelings in this situation. Arthur already writes himself off continually in such a way that is barely challenged until he realizes he’s dying. So. First of all Mary is asking for Arthur’s help with a man who did nothing but undermine the relationship and talk shit about Arthur and devalued any merits he might’ve had and continued to do so during the mission — and got upset whenever Arthur talked shit back — and not nearly as much defend Arthur — and sorry but gameplay wise she is up Arthur’s ass and intrusive and nagging — like right up until that family heirloom is being pawned off she’s undoing the very thing Arthur got called to do. Just!!! Stop coddling your father while shitting on and wrist smacking the man who came to help you reel in this obnoxious disorderly pissant! And again, I know Arthur is an outlaw, but stop riding him when he’s trying to help and if DADDY is allowed to shittalk Arthur then Arthur should be allowed to throw anything he wants in his face.

I’m sorry but by the time it was over and done with I just don’t care about her anymore and any allusion to her for the rest of the story just pisses me off more as I wish for someone who actually shows consideration towards Arthur to talk to him more.

I wasn’t mad at her giving the thing back, I’m mad she didn’t do it sooner.

I’m mad they had that stupid “will they get back together” moment when they simply don’t have chemistry.

And with the date, maybe there’s just a certain expectation for women in the setting but watching the show with her especially after everything was a chore. But then…

Abigail acts kinda the same way at the picture show before John proposes? Like maybe if the mission hadn’t just happened I wouldn’t be bothered by it.

Anyway, I kind of don’t want any sort of decade with whoever reads this. I just needed to get my feelings out while I’m raw. I just finished watching my boyfriend play high honor yesterday and I’m still going Thru It.

[cleoselene]

All The Concerts!

my mom wrote down every concert she's ever been to and it's a LOT, like in the triple digits

and it got me thinking if I could name every concert I've ever been to? I am fearful I might forget some tho my MS memory sucks but here goes:

New Kids on the Block

Boyz II Men/MC Hammer

Tori Amos (x7)

Switchblade Symphony

KMFDM with Nivek Ogre

VNV Nation (x2)

Air Supply (x2)

Terri Clark (lol I hated country when my family dragged me to this one, I was in my peak Snob Goth era)

Garth Brooks (happened much later when I had learned to embrace country)

Peter Cetera

Sarah McLachlan

The Editors

Radiohead (i hated this hahah, it was so fucking boring like their music. My friend bought the tickets and I had hoped seeing them live would make it click. It did not. I was bored and cold because it was raining in Seattle)

Coldplay (was so much better than Radiohead, seethe snobby indie rock fans)

Regina Spektor

The Decemberists (literally the worst concert I've ever seen. Again I did not buy the tickets but my friend who liked going to indie rock shows always bought two tickets in hopes of getting a date and I was her backup if she didn't. To be clear even though this and Radiohead sucked, I did have a great time with my friend both times)

Cake

George Clinton & Parliament Funkadelic

Puscifer

Barry Manilow

ummm now I'm drawing a blank but I KNOW I've been to more shows and the stupid brain damage is making me forget. I've always been to see a fuck ton of tribute bands at this supper club, and tbh they were almost all really good. The Pink Floyd one especially. Also lol in middle school once this club I was in had a band come perform and they were like... a hair metal Christian band that took mainstream rock songs like "Living on a Prayer" by Bon Jovi and changed the lyrics to like... "LIVING 'CAUSE I PRAAYYYY" and it was fucking hilarious. It's driving me crazy tho because I know there are more actual real concerts I am forgetting -_-

so i guess if you count all the artists I saw multiple times, it comes to... *maths* 28 concerts? Which tbh does not feel like nearly enough.

on the bucket list:

Vienna Teng

Brandi Carlile

Portishead (lol this will never happen but a girl can dream)

Beyoncé

Taylor Swift

TOOL

A Perfect Circle

The Amazing Devil (which is somehow even less likely than Portishead)

SO I'LL MAKE THIS A MEME. Tell me which concerts you've been to, and tell me which concerts you feel like you MUST see before you die. @deathinthesun @an-ivy-covered-summer @swiftzeldas @sylvieons and whoever else wants to do it~

I did get Taylor tickets last year HOWEVER they were... beyond atrocious, the seats. Like, upper upper deck, BEHIND the stage with like no visibility, not even of the screens, because again: BEHIND. I had like three people trying to get tickets that day and 2/3 of us failed but my friend succeeded and she was like "do you want me to buy these? they're upper deck" and I was like yeah yeah that's okay! We can look at the screens! And then I saw the "OBSTRUCTED VISIBILITY" thing and looked at the layout and I was like...kind of devastated, honestly? It's really hard for me to do an outing like that physically, it was outdoors in April (which translates to HOT in Florida) and I just didn't see myself able to endure 5 or 6 hours at minimum in the heat without like, passing out and dying. Not to mention I'm still really scared of being in a large space with that many people because my disease-modifying drug destroys most of my immune system. I ended up selling them, and... buying my vinyl collection lol. Taylor got a lot of that money again because I bought a lot of her records. I'm kind of bummed that maybe I missed my chance forever, but again, I don't think I could have physically swung it. Plus, of the three nights she did Tampa, the show I was supposed to go to had meh surprise songs while the other 2 nights had AMAZING ones, so I know I would have been salty about that too. ONE DAY THO.

[originallyvivid]

— Gaia

Gaia, mother of all,

I shall sing, the strong foundation, the oldest one. She feeds everything in the world. Whoever walks upon her scared ground or moves through the sea or flies in the air, it is she who nourishes them from her treasure-store. Queen of Earth, through you beautiful children, beautiful harvests, come. It is you who give life to mortals and who take life away. Blessed is the one you honour with a willing heart. He who has this has everything.

(The Homeric Hymns: Hymn to Gaia, Mother of All, 30.1-10)

A Ruan Mei fanfic I wrote on less than 6 hours of sleep. Can you tell? I can't. Maybe it's a you problem. /j

Warnings:

English is not my first language

There's a bit of a graphic scene, two if mentions of bones breaking bother you

This was posted on mobile and I'm not used to posting on Tumblr, sorry if the formatting is wonky

Tags:

No romance

Aeon Ruan Mei (Sort of an OC, but is it really?)

Schizophrenia implications

Features Nous but They die :(

I don't think this is scary but someone may do so

Ruan Mei is kinda insane

This was also posted on AO3

Sickening. Its indifference was absolutely sickening.

Did it not care at all? Had her efforts been in vain? Was she doing something wrong? Was all she had sacrificed, the years she spent doing the impossible for her research just pointless?

Many members of the Genius Society thought she was just a bit crazy. Maybe she was, or maybe she wasn't, there was no way for her to know.

Ignorance.

She hated it. She despised not knowing—and Nous Themselves had acknowledged it. So why was it? Why? Why?

No answer.

She was going insane. Her anger was not directed towards any Aeon, but towards the Universe Itself. It was mocking her, she was sure of it. She could just picture whatever—or whoever—was pulling the strings of this shitty puppet show laughing at her face, saying:

"Pathetic specimen. As a human, thy fate is to perish. Why would the mere idea of Godhood ever cross thy mind? How ridiculous."

Ridiculous? Ridiculous?

Sometimes, she could hear It. It made her skin crawl, and she felt like banging her head against her desk until her skull cracked open and her brains spilled out. But maybe then someone would find her, mushed brain mixed with blood dripping from the edges of the cold furniture, and they'd display her cold cadaver in a hall of fame—because they were a bunch of sick fucks. Her inscription would say something like 'Ruan Mei, Genius Society Member #81. Lived and died a human.'

Human.

She would have to watch from behind the glass as other members continued her research. Maybe one of them would make it, and she'd have to watch as someone else ascended to Aeonhood instead of her.

When she thought about it, she really did feel pathetic.

The Universe talked to her through her dreams whenever she spent more than forty-eight hours awake. It would speak to her condescendingly, treating her as if she was unaware of something as obvious as the result of two plus two.

She considered the posibilities. Maybe The Elation had taken her as a stupid little test subject for one of Their "experiments", or maybe a Memokeeper was playing with her brain. Maybe it was a side effect from the Simulated Universe. Maybe. Maybe.

"Murder them."

She woke up, her breathing abnormally fast. Murder them? Murder... Them?

It was a sign. A sign from the Universe.

She just wasn't sure about how to do it, but she had an idea in mind.

168 hours.

A full week she spent awake, guided by Its voice on her ultimate creation, something that was sure to grant her a spot along the divine.

Her eyes were sore, her limbs about to give up on her, and yet she kept working. It was as if she had been possessed. No matter how much her fellow members tried reaching out, no matter how many threats Herta sent her way, she would not establish contact with any of them, and she would not reveal exactly what she was working on.

An embryo, which then became two. Fully lab-grown beings, made without neither an ovum nor a spermatozoon. She was not really sure as to why It was helping her, but she was too far gone to question Its intentions.

"Pandora."

She quickly understood—it was a name. The first embryo, supposed to grow into a female human, was named 'Pandora.'

The second—meant to be a male, as per Its command, was named 'Phaenon'.

On Sunday of that week, Ruan Mei left her laboratory for the first time in days. She found herself standing still, staring up at the sky.

Her gaze was not fixated on anything, the cold air blowing stronger with each passing minute.

Nevertheless, she could feel her body burning.

Something was happening to her.

Something was happening to her

S̴o̸m̸e̶t̸h̵i̴n̷g̸ ̷w̵a̴s̴ ̵h̴a̵p̴p̷e̷n̷i̵n̴g̴

s̶͖̩͉̓ ̷̦̉͌͝o̴̢̞͈͒m̴̦̗̙̅̓e̸̢̺̣̎̐ ̸̮̦́t̶̖͚̆̐h̵̟̫̊̉ ̵͇̅̎ì̶̥̩̓n̷̪̞͆ ̸̖̲̆g̶͙̠͍̾ ̷̛͈̖̲̐w̵̢̥͂͝͝ȁ̵̙̼̄ ̵̫̬̼́s̷͉̫̏ ̶̝̞̻̾̿ḣ̶̥͍̹a̸͓̐́p̸̛̤̙ ̸̬͕͑e̴͔͛͆n̸͎̗̉̈́ ̶̧́̋̇i̸̹͊ ̵͚̔n̷͖̤̐̉̚͜ ̶̗͌g̴̦̗̀

s̷̛̛̱͓̩͙̙̳̘͍̭̼̝̠̝͚̳̙͚̪͍̙̀̾̈́̆̍̇̉̅͂̿͂̕͘͜͠͝ͅơ̵̜̠͔͙̱̜͗̉̑͌̐̾̂͗̂̂̀̇̐͗̍̽̎̇̓̆̓̀̈͒͐̆̑̀̚͝ ̴̡̨̢͇̝̯̠͚̫͇͙̞͕͖̲̯͉̘̥͓̖͑̉̍̀͋͌̒͘͘ͅͅm̸̨̟͈͈̖̹̠̰͑̓̓̔͆̉̈́͗͆̄͜m̷̤̭͔͇̞̉͐͊̉̏̐̽̏͛͂̊͋͑͘̕͠ͅ��̢͕̻̱͍̙̼̮̥̜̺̣̪̩̱̦̙̘̦͜m̷̛̫͎̭̤̯͈̺̜̭͇̱̦͖͙̭̝̲͓͙͕͕͈͍̖͔̼͙̀̈̄͐͋͆̍͂́͂̈́̐̌͗̌̽̄́͂͒́͠ ̸̧̢̫̠̟̙͇͉̘̬̫̠̞̪̱̻͙̦̖͎̰̭̞̱̪̗͆̈́̈͊̏͛̓̂̄̈̐͘͠͝ͅͅę̸̨̡̧̲̫͇̣̞̝̖̤̗̙͕̜͉̲̮̭͙̦̬̭͔̠̫͍͙͓̱̩̋̀͂̔̓͒̔̒̈́̐̄͛̉̏̃͆͋͌͒̔͛͗̉́̓͑͘̚͠͝͝͝ͅt̵̢̨͉̭̭͔̪̠̭̬̝̙̖̤̣̣̜͖͍̰̓̋̍̾̔́̿̌͊̃͛̽̈́̊͘͜͝ͅẖ̶̡̨̛̛͉̹̘̫̝̬͕̬̭̩͖͙̮̟̥̱̦̉̄͛̍͑́̓̈́̅̓̌̑͐̄̑̏̃̔̄̈́̈́͌̀̈̅̀͛̀͒̚͘͜͝͝ ̴̯͖̹̲͕͋̇̀̇͊̉́̊̈̃͊́̀̀̅̌̃̀̋͑̈́̅̌͆͑̕̚ͅī̷̧̱̱̮̤̼̣̼͂́͌n̴̨̹̘̳͍̞͈͙͉̮̞͍̺̼̪̱͚̳̤̾͐̽̃́̔́̆͛̈̀́̒͂͑̆͊͌̒͐̓̚̕͠ͅg̷̡̧̧̢̠̮̣͎͔̣̬̪̙̭͇͇̻͇̜͈͖̦̘̬͙̱̠̔̆̅̈́͗̀̃̌̑͂͘͝ͅͅ ̴̢̛̛͔͖͙̩̬̻̬͉͎̩̜̳͖͍̞̖̣̦̻̜̮̬̳̠̰͇̥̯̰͕̰̙̄̇̃͌̽̈͂̅̑͑̆͋͒̎͛́̐̍̐̇̉͑̔͛̿͛͋̃̌̚̚͜͝͠w̴̨̨̢̨̪͔̝̼̘̖̩͍̮͎͉̦̙̤̠̤̼̜̤̟̪͖̥̱͖̩͖̞̿̈́̇̏͑̈́̓̃͆̎͂̍̋̽̎̏͋̈́̎̔̽̾̇̚̚̚͝ͅ ̶̨̮͙̺͈̼͇̤̮̻̞̬͇͓̘̬͍͕̹̲̙̖̀̀̈̑̀̐̌͆̍̄̽͆̈͋̓̒́̾̉́̈͐͒́̄̎̇͘͠ȧ̴͇̗̹̭̰̥̣͔͕̪̝̙̾̂̈̍̎͂̀̋̒̀̍̇͑͆͊͑̃͘̚͘͘s̵̡̢̢̹̞̹̭͎̠͇̼̩͍̼̲͕̜̈́̔̈́̑̑͛̾̒́̾̉̀̊͜ͅ ̷̡̨̨̘̳͚͎̙̘͖̭̭̹̯͍̣̯̮͔̩̳̙͚̘̟̙͚͖͔̪̣̥̋̿̒̀̊̆̀̑͊̀̓̆̒̈̏̔̏̀̀̈̂͊̃̈́̔̚ͅḧ̴̡̰̟͖͙͎̻̙͖͈̝̘͔͈̩̜̜̼͇̫͕͖̫̘̳̦̣̗́̏̎̏̒̈̃̔̄̏̀̔͋͆̊̔̊̿̈̈́̂̐̾̄̿̚̕ḥ̴̮̝͉͚̖̻̖̗̣͈͓̖͚̲̼̝̫̼̠̾́̌̿̋̋̈́̔̀̄̊̊̉̅̕͝͝ ̸̨̢̧̢̢̡͇̳̩̤̮̬̖̠̞̟͈͓̘͔̘̫͔̟̘̟̳̮̟̙̈́̿̾̂̍̿̍̅̀̌͗̅͛̉̽́̍́̎̇͌͑̂̈́͋͌͘͘͜͜͠á̸̡̢̢̨̟͇̹̱̣̹͕̙̬̜͍̥̦̤̻̪̮̺̞̯̗͖͒̓̓̊̿̓͆͛͐̈́͌̈́́̓̐́̉̉́̔͑͗͂͛͛̚̚̚͜͝ͅͅp̵̡̲̩̰͙̖̫͙̗̫̤͓̹͔̀̆͗ ̴̢̲̙̻̹͚̟̯͖͓̬̱̱̪̗̿̈́̀̒̑̈́͆̿̄̏̀̋͗͌̉̽͛ͅͅp̸̢̧̗̪̈́̆̀̍̃̕ę̵̡̜̗̮̼͚̺͙͕̝̟͕̖̗͈͇̉́̅̉̿̉̆͗̉̈́́̌̓̈͐̈́̚͜͠n̵̖͎̹̳̪͕̣͔̼̱̣̗͓͙̺̉̓͒̈́̈̕ì̴͕̠̼͈̥͂͊̌̊̑̌̔͑͑̂͊͊͂͐͑͌̌̔̓̇͌̌͑͊͛̀̕͘͝ ̸̻̫͙̥͖̩̼̹͕̜̳̜̪͍̃͑̾͒̅̆̏̑͗̀́̅͐͛̃̋͒̉͂̔͋̒̔̓́̋̂̈́̕̚̚̚͝͠ͅͅͅņ̵̛̪̺̳̜̪͕̝̰̤̙̐͛̑͐̏̑̎̄̚͜͝ǵ̸̨̢̥͙̹̖̣̗̹̣̯͓̰̻̱̟̼̟̖̠͚͈̬̜̘̪͗̈ͅͅ

 

.... . .-.. .--.

- .... .. ...

.. ...

-. --- -

.-- .... .- -

..

.-- .- -. - . -..

 

She was scared.

She could hear her limbs breaking, even if she felt no pain at all.

Her eyes were blinded by light, her ears blocking any other sound coming from her surroundings. She could feel herself becoming someone—something else. A transformation not only of physical dimensions, but of her soul.

When Their vision came back, They found Themselves somewhere in the infinite cosmos. Looking into a water-filled planet, They winced upon seeing Their reflection.

Who had once been a young woman, follower of The Erudition, had now become an amalgamation of eyes, robes, manuscripts and blood, tainting the otherwise white fabric hanging from its "body"—if it could even be called that.

Upon ascending, They remembered the Universe's instructions.

"Murder them." "Murder Them."

With a single thought, Nous was summoned, the sight of Them almost making the other shiver after being used to only ever seeing Them in a simulation.

"01000011 01101000 01101001 01101100 01100100 00101100 00100000 01110111 01101000 01111001 00100000 01101000 01100001 01110011 01110100 00100000 01110100 01101000 01101111 01110101 00100000 01100100 01100101 01100011 01101001 01100100 01100101 01100100 00100000 01110100 01101111 00100000 01100010 01100101 01110100 01110010 01100001 01111001 00100000 01101101 01100101 00111111"

"I am not your child. You will fall before me, for I am the one who deserves to take your place in the cosmos."

"01010111 01101000 01101111 00100000 01100001 01110010 01110100 00100000 01110100 01101000 01101111 01110101 00111111 00100000 01001001 00100000 01100100 01101111 00100000 01101110 01101111 01110100 00100000 01110010 01100101 01100011 01101111 01100111 01101110 01101001 01111010 01100101 00100000 01110100 01101000 01100101 01100101 00101110"

"Who am I? Who? Who... am I?" The young Aeon spiraled into a nonsensical rage at the proposal of this simple, rethoric question. "I am Gaia. I am They who will reign over your devotees after your death."

The newly forged path consumed The Erudition in the blink of an eye. Its followers were left to either bow down to their new sovereign of wander the galaxy alone, like a dog whose owner had been murdered.

Gaia The Creation.

One by one, Their memories started to fade away. Soon enough, all that's left will be a God, one who always wishes to be more.

The Abundance will be next.

The Abundance will be next.

T̴̛̛̰̝̥̩̝͍̣̠̳̣͔̼̺̯̘̞̭̹͓͚͓̩̫͇̗̞͉̯̆̍̓̓̆̐͊̽̊̾́̔̿̈͐͛́̄̏͆̐͂̀͘̚͜͜͝͠ͅḩ̷̨̡̨̢̻̹͔͎͍̖̩͇̞̼̠̝̞̦͎̲̩͇̩̱͖̥͉̳̙͔̝̊̓̇͑̓̔̅͘͜͠͝ề̶̯͎͚̯̼̞̞̠̳̓͆͌̅̊͑͂͌̋̈̋́͒̈͗̾̚͘͝ ̴̡̧̗̬̣̗̺͎̫̖̞̪̞̱̺̟͈̼̰̫͖̳̪̰̣̫̜̰̖̀̋͜A̷̧̹̦͍̯̯̗̫̰̩̥̩͔̖͉͍̬̔̈́̋̽́̈́̒͒̒͌̆̈́̋̊̅͒͐̅̓̌̓̂͋͒̂̆̌̀͘̕͘͜͠͝͝b̷̡̰̩̺̬̠͓͔̠̤̟͔́͋̇̒̋͜͜͜ų̶̬̯̦͖͓̪̰̼̽͊̐n̵̢̨̝̜̯̺̫͔̭̖̿̄͊́̾̉̇̀͌͊̍̾̆̿͒̍͆̈́̌́͋̀̚͜͝ḑ̶̨̦͚̠̣̜̩͉̉̋̎̋͆̚͜ą̴̡̠͉̟̞̯̙̲̫̠̹͓̠͎̟̯͈͚̹̫̘̺̼̦͉͐̎̾̈̔͂̀̓͆̓̽̾͐̈̾͑̈́͛͜͝ͅͅṇ̶̲͑̄͋̀͑͆̌̌̇̒͒̉̽̒͒̃͒̄͋͗͑̐̓̎̋̀̓͂͛̕̚̕c̵̨̛͇̜̘͓̝̖̬̲̪̻̭̭͎̪̣̹͚͉̱͎̥̬̮̟̺͍̀̇̄̅͂͑̄̄̽͛͑͊̃͘͝ę̸̢̧̡͔̘͕̝͖̼̣̟̪̺͎̪̙̫̠͖̺͖̝͙̫͙͖̐̆͛̊̓̆̒͘͜ͅ ̴̛̛̟̺̟̜̗̘̝̱͖͖͙͈͈̹̻̣͂͋̌̋͐̽͒̌͂̆̐̎͂͐̅̌͐̅̈́̊͗̈́̊͛̄́̒̚̕͘͘͜͠w̵͚͓͓̗͈̮͐̂i̶̧̡̡̤̙̹͙͕͖̤͙̼͙̱͕̲̪̬̮͚̠̱̖̠͓͌͒́̋̿̀̐̄̎̉̽̀́̊͋̈̈́̓̂͐͛̾͐͛̐̇̿̏̿̑͘̚͜͝l̸̛̤̬̰̮͈̬͇̋̐̀͑̉̐͒ḷ̷̨̡̨̡̠͚̞̼̯̪̱̮͈͚͈̺̬͖̜̟̪̑́́͆̓̈̈́̕͜ͅ ̷̢̨̡͈͔͍͈͓̤̩͚̗̳̟͙̰̺͇͎̦̹̰̫̼̫͙͉͐̈́̽͂̽̅͌̂͌̿̇̅̒̌͑̈́̂̉̈̈͊̏̕̚͝͠b̵͍̫̅̈́̒͑̓͂͑̈́́͋͠e̸̛͔̞͕͕͑̀̒̔̊̅̃́̅͗͋͘͠͝͝ ̸̨̰̘͈̳̲͓̟͚̭̬̺̻̟̬̪͑̐̎̑͐̈́̂̄̇͂̐͆̔̅̃̒̽̌̾̈́̇͌͒͘n̸̢̡͍͚͕̦̝̺͈͉̗̮̬̲̰̲̦̤̍̐̒̔̒͘ȇ̴̡̡̛̺̬̞͚̬͈̪̲̺̱̲͚̱̗̫̮̦͎̖̭̺̃̈́̆͐͑͐̏̅̀̂͑͋͑͛͛̑̆͘͜͝ͅͅx̴͖̞͛̇̒̅̉͜ẗ̷̡̛̬̹͍́̃͋̍̽͌̔́͒͒̍̿͠

R̶̢̙͓͕͍͎̭͍̬̹̪̝̠̼̝͔̤̠͉͔̣̮̥̺͙̲͖͈̜̦̅͋͒ͅͅú̵̧̧̢̨̧̢̬͕̝͎̹͈̲̟̯̗̹͕̹̝̤̞͈̜̠͚̳̜̻͇͎̟̭͉̞̦̝̯̠̭̭̪͈̙̳̳̝̿̊͆͐́̂́̀̌̊̀͆̚̕͝ͅą̶̹̗̙͇̦̱̗̣̟̮͕͊͆̈́̽́̈́́͆̀̇̄̀̋̓͂̏̊̈́̈́͒̉̊̾̽̈͛̈́̎͊́͊͑͠͝n̶̛̜̩̯͈̣̱̫͓̭̣͔̻̭̭͖̳̹̖͕̈́̔̐͂̈́̿͑̌̏̊̔͑̆̋̂ ̸̢̧̢̨̛͚͖̟͔̥̙̗̦̪̘̣̼͈͎̫̪̜͈̤̭̯̰̪͓͎͍̻̘̫̣̟̦̟̩̥̗̪̀̓͂̔̀͆͒̿͌̐̓̋̉̈́̆̈́͊͌̅̿̓̉̆̅͘͜͜͜͜͝͠͠͝M̷̡̡̡̛̫̀͌͒̌̐̉̈́ͅȅ̶̡̗͎̤̣͎̘̺̲̋̈͂͛͆͂̒͗̑̍̈̿̅̕̚͘͝ḯ̸̞̟̘̺͕̻̼̈́̓̈̾͂̄̿́͊͐̔̒̔̋̀́̓̕͜͠͝ͅ ̸̡̧̡͎̬̪̤͎̮̙̳̗̖̮͙͖̪̗͙̲͔͓̅͂̌̈́͆̈́́͗̂̈́͗̓̀̅̾̍͘͝ͅī̷̡̧͎̭̰̖̦̭̦͚͖͕̘̺̼̫̖̬̥̣̇͛̈̀͆̿͐̓̋̀̿̌͊̒̒̏̋͑̿͘͘͝͝ŝ̶͓̭̣͕̹̲̩̫̣̥̥͕̯̞̓̆̒̄̐̈́̄́̿̓̓͝ͅ ̸̧̢̡̢̧̛͉̗̻͇͚̻̩̜͚͕͈̯̟̠̤͕̘̩̳̩͍̪̘͙̼̖̠̜͓͙̜̮̖̠̱̖̅̑͋͋̊͆̎̈̈́̈́̎̌͋̇͘̕͜͜ͅͅͅg̴̭͉̻̗̦̉ǫ̶̨̢̭̳̗͍̠̘̬̝̖̙̗͖̥̝̫̭̱̲̤̼̰̥̳̟̳̺͔̫̱̥̌̽̑̋́̌͑͂̈́̅̈́̎͛̓͊̈́̊̍̉̓̈̿́̃͊͌̿̐̉̊̽͛͂͛̚̚͘̚͜͠͠͝͝ņ̵͐̀͗̾̀̆̋̑͗̐̋̑̒̈́̅̅̾͆͌̄͂̀̀̓̂̂̓̓̄́͊͊̎́̕̚͘͝͝͝͝͝͠ȩ̴̢̼̖͉̰̙̪̺̰̝̱̟͔̫̹̺̫̪̫̲͎͕͇̥̭̠̭̻̜̞̝̯̦̿̅̎͋͛͋̊͑́̆̎̆̊̄̐̅͋̋̈́͑̓̈̀̔̊̏͋̇͐̆̇͒̈́͛͋͛̅̋́̓͑̔̚͜͜͜͠͠͠͝.