#i needed to inject some me into this serious post

[aveline-amelia]

Jim Moriarty and bi erasure in The Sherlock Fandom

So I saw someone making fun of Moriarty/Eurus by claiming Moriarty is the gayest character in the show and that Jim even asked Mycroft how he wanted him in TFP, all, of course, in obligatory OUTRAGE CAPS LOCK.

Which is why I feel the need to make the distinction between saying "he's gay" in a "he's so into men" vs "he's so not into women" way. That requires acknowledging both asexual and bisexual erasure. No matter how flamboyant Moriarty is and how many sex references to men he makes, none of that is proof of homosexuality until:

Moriarty makes a definitive statement on his sexuality we are supposed to believe. (I'm gay)

Someone else makes a definitive statement on Moriarty's sexuality that we are supposed to take at face value and believe. (He's gay)

The Powers That Be make a definitive statement on Moriarty's sexuality and the way he was written and portrayed (Moriarty is gay and was written and portrayed as such).

Not all statements on sexuality are clear and definitive, such as Irene saying she's gay but admitting to attraction to a man in the exact same statement and having bisexual coding (both parties separately, male and female clients).

Or John saying that he's not gay but then never clarifying he's straight or not attracted to men.

And we all bring our assumptions when observing potential clues or statements regarding someone's sexual identity.

For example, Harry Watson could be bi but we assume she is a lesbian and we are mostly likely meant to assume that and at that she is probably a butch lesbian or somewhat GNC due to a usage of a masculine version of a name (Harriet -> Harry).

This could be wrong. She could be a feminine bisexual woman who prefers to be called Harry and just happened to fall for and marry a woman.

We don't know the sexuality of the innkeepers in THoB but we assume they are gay men. We assume Raul and Kenny Prince are gay men.

Moriarty refers to his role as Jim from IT as "playing gay" yet he gets flirty with Sherlock in the next sentence. This could all be part of an act, but I do believe reading Moriarty as a straight guy who just likes to mess with people is inherently heteronormative.

Some see Moriarty as a queercoded villain, and some see him as a genuine example of LGBT representation. Maybe not necessarily good representation, but that is subjective. But I do wish people would consider all options before they claim such regressive and potentially harmful opinions as fact.

Headcanons are fine! Claiming something is canon when it is not is different. I am still not over the "confirmed heterosexuality" comments regarding Mycroft and the whole bunch of "straight/het Mycroft" jokes.

And that is coming from someone who believes the Lady Smallwood scene was indeed heteronormative, albeit for different reasons than most people, I believe. But that's a topic for another day. No, seriously, I'll get there.

It's one thing to claim you do not believe a character is bisexual if you don't. It's another to deny bisexuality as an option when it is oftentimes the only option that takes all the evidence into account and does not require stretching the truth or ignoring tells.

Also Moriarty could have had Mycroft on that desk right there until he begged for mercy twice and that still wouldn't have been proof of either of them being homosexual men.

[urfavoritewriter]

Death Row’s Last Meal

Commission for an anonymous user here on Tumblr, thank you for commissioning me and letting me post it!

Content: M/M, Oral Vore, Chewing, Teasing, Cruel Pred, Graphic Digestion, G/T, Macro/Micro, Unwilling Prey

Bang bang bang!

The incessant knocking on Kyle's door reverberated through his apartment, each thud intensifying the curiosity and irritation etched across his face. As he approached the peephole, he saw two individuals in suits, their expressions serious, the weight of an unusual task etched on their features. He reluctantly opened the door, skepticism emanating from his eyes.

"Kyle?" the first agent asked, holding up an official-looking device for verification.

"Yeah, that's me. What's this about?" Kyle grumbled, rubbing his eyes, trying to make sense of the situation.

The second agent sighed, a weariness in his voice. "Kyle, this isn't easy for us either." They gave each other a slight look, "Look, we're here because of Dawson's last meal request. He asked specifically for you."

A moment of awkward silence went by, Kyle not fully comprehending. "By law, we need to shrink you and take you to him."

Kyle's eyes widened, and he leaned back, hoping this was some absurd prank. "Hold on, you're telling me I'm on the menu for some death row guy? Are you being for real?"

Both agents exchanged glances, a shared acknowledgment of the surreal nature of their mission. The first agent spoke, "Dead serious, Kyle. Dawson's last meal is, well, you."

Kyle laughed nervously, searching for any sign that this was a prank, but the agents' stony expressions persisted. "This has to be a fucking joke, right? You two bought these outfits to fuck with people?"

The second agent shook his head, showing official badges that certified their government affiliation. "We wish it were a joke, Kyle. This is the law, and... Well, it's happening whether you want it or not."

In a desperate attempt to shut out the surreal intrusion, Kyle slammed the door shut, pouring all his strength into resisting the inevitable. But the agents, with a calculated and practiced force, countered, pushing back against the door, and it swung back open, knocking Kyle off balance. He stumbled and fell to the ground, swearing vehemently.

"Get the fuck off me, assholes!" Kyle shouted as they ambushed him, "I still have my rights!"

The first agent, unfazed by Kyle's protests, retorted, "You have the right to be someone's last meal, buddy. Now quit resisting, or it's gonna get real ugly for you."

In the midst of the struggle, the second agent grabbed a syringe from his pocket. "Hold still, Kyle. This will be a lot easier for everyone if you just cooperate."

"Like hell, I will!" Kyle yelled, desperately trying to break free. He managed to shout for help, hoping someone in the hallway would intervene, but his cries seemed to vanish into the empty corridor.

The first agent rolled his eyes. "Come on, man, we're just doing our job. This will happen one way or another."

The second agent, seizing the moment, injected the shrinking liquid into Kyle's forearm. The effects were almost immediate. Kyle's body began to shrink rapidly, his clothes sagging around him as he tumbled to the ground.

"Fuck... you," Kyle managed to stammer before beginning to shrink rapidly.

As the shrinking process took hold, Kyle felt an odd sensation throughout his body. It started as a tingling in his extremities, a strange vibration that gradually enveloped him. His surroundings shifted; the once-familiar dimensions of his apartment now transformed into a vast and towering landscape.

The agents loomed above him, their figures expanding to colossal proportions. Every detail of their faces, their clothing, became magnified as if he were viewing them through an ever-zooming lens. The ambient sounds around him intensified, a cacophony of footsteps in the hallway now resembling distant thunder.

Kyle's clothes, initially snug, began to loosen and slide off his diminishing form. The fabric sagged like oversized drapes, eventually abandoning his shrinking frame altogether. Soon, he found himself entirely exposed, his nakedness accentuating the vulnerability of his reduced size.

The room, once comfortable and familiar, now assumed an alien quality. The furniture, once easily reachable, became insurmountable obstacles. The texture of the carpet transformed into a vast expanse, the fibers now strands that were difficult to navigate.

The agent, his colossal hand blotting out the surroundings, swiftly closed in on Kyle. The once-mighty punches that Kyle could deliver were now feeble, like the flailing of a helpless insect. With a deft motion, the agent scooped him up, his grasp securing around Kyle's diminished form.

Struggling within the confines of the agent's grip, Kyle found himself powerless against the giant force that now controlled his fate. The agent, nonchalant and almost indifferent to Kyle's tiny struggles, deposited him into a clear, sealed zip-bag.

Through the transparent barrier, Kyle could see the agent's face, looming large and expressionless. The casual yet authoritative tone persisted as the agent remarked, "Be grateful he didn't ask for you to be cooked." The implication of such a statement hung in the air, emphasizing the grim reality of his situation, as he zipped it shut.

Hours later, the legal rigmarole finally concluded, Kyle found himself delivered to the designated death row inmate. The muscular, toned man wore the standard orange inmate clothing, his blue eyes sharp and piercing. His dirty blonde hair and slight facial hair added a rugged edge to his appearance. The chiseled jaw and the smirk that played on his lips gave him a cruel demeanor.

As the zipped bag containing Kyle was handed over, the death row inmate's demeanor remained unapologetically harsh. "’Bout fuckin' time you got here. Was gettin' real hungry," he declared with a casual yet menacing tone. The implication was clear – Kyle was not just a shrunken man; he was a meal, a dehumanized object to be consumed and cruelly teased, his whole life turned upside-down in an instant based on the whims of a criminal, as law had it.

Dawson unzipped the bag, revealing the shrunken Kyle. The inmate's large, calloused hand grabbed him, his grip firm and unyielding. There was no gentleness in his touch, only a cruel sense of control.

He held Kyle up, eyeing him with a mixture of amusement and disdain. "Look at you, all fuckin' tiny. Little shit. You thought you were special, didn't ya?" Dawson's words dripped with cruel teasing, as if reveling in the degradation of his prey. "Well, you're just a meal for me, and let me tell ya, it's gonna fuckin' suck."

Dawson's laughter echoed, a harsh sound that matched the cruel amusement in his eyes. He brought Kyle closer to his face, his breath hot and heavy. "You're gonna feel every bit of pain as I chew on you, and then, buddy, the real fun starts when you slide down my throat. Most painful fuckin' digestion you can imagine."

The casual tone of his threats, peppered with obscenities, heightened the brutality of the situation. There was no mercy in Dawson's words, only a brutal honesty about the agony that awaited Kyle.

Kyle squirmed desperately in Dawson's grasp, his small form doing little against the inmate's powerful hold. "Please, man, you can't do this! I'm a fucking person, not your damn snack!" he pleaded, his voice a mix of fear and desperation.

Dawson only laughed, a harsh sound that echoed in the small space between them. "Oh, you're a person, alright. A person 'bout to become my next meal. A person ‘bout to be dead.” Dawson gave Kyle a clear view of his abs, before speaking again. “See that, little fucker? That’s where you’re goin’. And that’s where you’re fuckin’ dyin’.”

Kyle, in protest, physically struggled against the giant man's brutal grasp. Dawson chuckled at Kyle's feeble squirms. "Aw, ain't you a little fighter?" He squeezed his tiny captive tighter, relishing the feeling of the struggles against his palm. "Guess it don't matter how much you fight, you're endin' up in my gut anyway."

He lifted Kyle closer to his face, opening his mouth wide. "Take a good fuckin' whiff, 'cause you're gonna be smellin' a lot more of it soon." Dawson huffed in Kyle's face, his breath hot and tainted with the scent of the impending doom that awaited him. He smirked at Kyle's discomfort, finding perverse pleasure in the psychological torment.

"Fuck, that stinks!" Kyle said, the smell being more suffocating due to his small lung size. "You can't do this, you're violating my rights as an upstanding citizen."

"The law ain't gonna save your tiny ass, being a law-abiding citizen was what got you here in the first place." Dawson taunted. "You're just another meal for me, a criminal eatin' up a supposed 'civil' citizen. Life's a bitch, ain't it?" The casual cruelty in Dawson's tone only intensified the despair of the situation, his words a relentless reminder of the power he held over Kyle's fate.

Dawson's tongue snaked around Kyle, pulling him into the hot, cavernous expanse of his mouth. The taste was overwhelming, a mixture of saliva and the remnants of Dawson's last meal, probably from yesterday. The smell, a pungent blend of mouth odor and saliva, hung heavily in the air.

As Dawson sucked on Kyle, his tongue pressed against him, the firm grip restricting any chance of escape. The saliva clung to Kyle's naked form, making his struggles more futile with each passing second. Dawson reveled in the feeling of his tiny captive squirming, the vibrations of his movements causing him immense pleasure.

Then came the chewing. Dawson didn't hold back; he bit down with force, causing sharp pain to radiate through Kyle's diminutive body. The pressure was enough to bruise, to inflict injury, but not to end him. Each chew bit down harder, causing evident bruising on his body.

"Fuck!" Kyle's pained expletive escaped through the chaotic mess of Dawson's chewing, his teeth pressing down on him from top and bottom, coated with saliva and unrelenting in their biting.

Dawson grinned, feeling the distress coursing through Kyle. "Ain't it somethin', bein' chewed up alive? You're just a lil' appetizer before the real show in my gut." The malice in his tone amplified the horror, making each chew a brutal punctuation mark in the merciless consumption of Kyle.

Dawson continued his nonchalant demeanor as Kyle slid down his throat, the struggling form creating an evident bulge in the muscular curve of Dawson's neck. The descent was a hot, tight journey into the core of the beast, the casual cruelty persisting even as the tiny man entered the churning depths of Dawson's stomach.

The sensation of Kyle arriving in the stomach was marked by a distinct, guttural sound.

"BuUuRp!"

Escaped from Dawson's lips, a casual belch that coincided with the finality of Kyle's journey. The stomach walls embraced Kyle, the heat and pressure intensifying as he settled into the acidic pool. Dawson, seemingly unfazed, leaned back, savoring the moment as he patted his now-filled belly.

"Agreed to let 'em keep me alive until you're digested. Don't think you're gonna have a quick end, Kyle."

Dawson, smirking with a cruel glint in his eye, decided to make it more personal. He placed a flat hand against his abdominal muscles, his abs bulging out slightly due to the tiny's presence. "Now, little man, let's have some fuckin' fun."

With a sudden flex of his abdominal muscles, Dawson tightened his stomach around Kyle. The pressure was immense, a crushing force that left Kyle gasping for breath. Dawson's abs, chiseled and defined, clenched with power. The cruel twist of a smile adorned Dawson's face as he relished in Kyle's agony.

Kyle, caught in the throes of the stomach squeeze, couldn't help but swear through gritted teeth. "Fuck you, you sadistic asshole!"

Dawson's laughter filled the air as he continued to tighten his stomach around Kyle. "Squeezin' the life outta ya with my abs, and you're weak as fuck, can't do shit about it from in there."

As Dawson flexed and squeezed, Kyle's body contorted with the pressure. It was an excruciating experience, made worse by the casual cruelty of Dawson's actions. Each flex of those powerful abs seemed to mock Kyle's pain, turning the entire ordeal into a sadistic game for Dawson's amusement. The air was filled with Kyle's pained cries and the giant's taunts.

After excruciating minutes, Dawson let his stomach muscles relax and his abs bulged out slightly again. Kyle felt the squeeze subside, but his body was sore from how crushing it was. His body was now soaked entirely with acid, his skin beginning to tingle, and only now is he comprehending how much pain he's going to be in for the rest of his life.

As the hours unfolded, Dawson's stomach initiated its relentless assault on Kyle's diminutive form. The digestive acids wasted no time, greedily working through the soft flesh and bones of the tiny man. Kyle, now thoroughly bathed in the corrosive juices, experienced an agonizing digestion.

Dawson, nonchalant as ever, let out a casual chuckle, his tone laced with a cruel amusement. "Must be real cozy in there, huh? Feeling the burn?" He patted his own belly, relishing the discomfort he knew Kyle must be enduring.

The graphic scene inside Dawson's stomach unfolded with a visceral intensity. The acids burnt the outer layer of his skin, the pain unbearable as it seeped into his flesh and muscles, his body bleeding.

"Bet you're wishing you were back in your cozy apartment right about now, huh? Guess what, my body's your home sweet home now."

The relentless acids worked through muscle and sinew, reducing Kyle to a slushy mixture within the confines of Dawson's stomach. Kyle, despite his gradually-broken body, tried to fight back. Dawson, thoroughly entertained by the spectacle, couldn't help but offer another biting remark. "You're really giving my abs a workout in there, buddy. Never had a meal fight back so much."

Indifferent to the struggles within, waited for the next few hours to unfold, knowing that the graphic digestion had only just begun.

The corrosive acids, now thoroughly acquainted with Kyle's form, continued their brutal assault. The digestive enzymes, having broken down the outer layers, were now penetrating deeper into the soft tissues, liquefying them with a gruesome efficiency.

Kyle's screams, now reduced to muffled cries, echoed within the fleshy chamber. His body, once whole, was succumbing to the merciless digestive process as he couldn't bear to speak anymore, only cry. The acidic fluid turned a disturbing shade of reddish-green as more of Kyle's blood bled out of him and into it.

"You must look a fuckin' mess in there." Dawson said, rubbing his hand over the small bulge of his stomach.

The graphic scenes unfolded in gruesome detail. The acid, now reaching the deeper recesses of Kyle's anatomy, worked through organs and tissues. The distinct scent of the digestion, a putrid amalgamation of bodily fluids, hung in the air within Dawson's gut.

Kyle's life was being snuffed out brutally in Dawson's gut, the final gasps of his existence silenced by the relentless tide of digestive brutality.

Dawson, indifferent to the life he had just extinguished, burped nonchalantly. The taste of Kyle's blood lingered in his mouth. "Fuck," Dawson huffed, "You're weak as shit."

Dawson lifted his orange inmate shirt, showcasing his toned abs. "Got fuckin' destroyed." He gave it a pat.

"Best last fuckin' meal and last fuckin' thing I do with my life." He said, very content with his choice of a last meal.

[balkanradfem]

Okay so I know I just hit you all with the controversial chestnut poll, but I have some new development in life that I want to complain about, and in order for me to complain about it, I need to give you the context.

I don't particularly want to give you the context. You're going to diagnose me with female socialization, and some of you will feel the urge to click the anonymous ask button and tell me off. Today I need you to fight that urge! I am feeling insecure, I am feeling lost, I'm not certain in my choices, I've acted without thinking, and got myself into a situation I can't control. So please don't be mean to me. I deserve to complain on the internet and not be called out, alright?

So this is the story of how I accidentally became a live-in caretaker for an injured, elderly woman. It's temporary! She'll get better, hopefully.

I worked for her occasionally, and she's always been kind to me. She would give me a little jar of jam sometimes, and I love little jars of jam, it's a way to win my heart. A few days ago, she called me in a panic, telling me she fell, and she needs my help. I came over, and found out she broke her arm in two places, and one of her rib is broken. She fell unconscious, after being dizzy all day, and fell on a big metal lantern, breaking it. She was now in so much pain she couldn't get up by herself, dress herself, or do any kind of household tasks. She went to the ER, got her arm wrapped up, and was trying to get a pain injection. I helped her get trough the day, and promised to come early next morning, to help her up from the bed.

Next day I found her in tears in her bed, unable to get up, desperate to go to the bathroom. It became clear she needed 24/7 assistance, and she asked me if I would move in until she got better. I said yes without thinking, because I was at this point, severely concerned, and wanted to do anything to help her out.

So this is all not so bad, right, I'm being normal, it's normal to offer help to an injured elderly woman who is nice, but there's a catch. She doesn't live alone. She lives with her older husband. Who is also disabled and can't help her at all. So in order to help her out.. I had to move into a place where a male lives. That is the worst part of this.

I'm still in the first few days of living like this, and my own life had to fall to the background. I can't go foraging for chestnuts every day, I can't go to my garden as much, I'm still going to work, just from her place. I'm overwhelmed and struggling to get used to the new situation. I'm not used to being around people at all, and now I'm forced to socialize almost all day. Caring for someone comes fairly natural! I'm already so in sync with her, she can just look in the certain direction and I know what she wants me to do. I've figured out where everything is in her kitchen, closet, and basement. She's pleased that I know how to do basic household tasks, and am willing to do it in her way. And she's nice, she's telling me things like 'thank you' and 'what would I do without you', which feels good. But I am very exhausted and sleep deprived, she wakes me up at 1am, and then 5am again, and I'm unable to fall back asleep in a room I lack familiarity with. I miss my room.

She and her husband said they were going to pay me, and in my natural ways, I said something like 'no you don't need to' which I feel like everyone will get mad at me for, but they did insist they would pay me anyway. I as usual lack the sense to care about money – someone's arm is broken, that's way more serious issue to me!

Alright so now to the part of the post I wanted to write, a fun poll where you guess, what has her awful husband done by this point :) go ahead and guess!

You have one day to guess! Which one of these scenarios happened in the first few days of his wife breaking three bones in her body. I'll tell you the correct option tomorrow!

[yuri-is-online]

Jade would be VERY pleased about finally having another club member. I would be happy to listen to him info dump while we look at mushrooms and neat nature stuff.

I let this sit in my ask box for too long but I've had this idea kicking around in my head for a while and then harveston had to go and drop that one line validating my delusions and you've given me an excuse to post it ha

notes: they/them used for Yuu, violence against animals (a bear), swearing at animals (the same bear), Yuu is unnaturally strong (enough to fight a bear), Yuu is implied to have grown up in a forest/woodsy environment, Jade typical blackmail. Other more serious fic can be found on my masterlist here.

Once upon a time, back when you first arrived in this world, you had been unsure how to feel about NRC. Castles existed back home, sure, but ones like this belonged firmly in illustrations or video games; it felt a but nauseating to walk through your wildest dreams brought to life, even if it was exciting sometimes. It was little wonder to you then that the idea of a Mountain Lover's Club was so appealing.

"Did you hike a lot back home?" Trey has that strange smile on his face that suggests you have made him tense somehow.

"Yes. I practically grew up in the woods." The flow of wind through the branches, the smell of fresh rain on the decomposing earth below, all of it wrapped you in a familiar sense of serenity even if the tree line was completely foreign to you. What are men to rocks and mountains after all? You could make yourself right at home here-

"I still don't think you should join." Trey says with all the air of a man who is certainly not telling you something, but the surprising harsh nod of agreement Riddle gives before injecting himself into the conversation convinces you more than whatever Trey had in mind likely could.

"I'm not entirely certain what they do," Riddle has never forbid you from participating in things since you and his dorm-mates brought him back to his senses," but if you want to hike it might be safer if you did it by yourself, assuming you let one of us know when you are going and when you expect to be back. It wouldn't do to have something that brings you so much joy used against you prefect, none of us want that." But he has always expressed concern when he thinks things to be unsafe, and in this case his argument was something you found yourself agreeing with. Hiking is best done at your own pace anyway, why get a club full of self-centered assholes involved in your me time? Though you did wish now they had been a bit more... specific with their concerns. Maybe outlined some of the club's scheduling, but then they would have needed to ask him and in so doing betrayed your interest.

Which would have been much less embarrassing than how Jade actually found out. Because of course he did, was there ever any doubt he would? ~~~~ There is a creek not far up the mountain path behind your dorm you like to rest at when coming back from your adventures. It's a good place to check over the photos on your camera and enjoy the last few rays of sunlight before returning to whatever mess Grim had made in Ramshackle searching for where you had moved all the tuna cans. Sometimes he joined you, and the two of you would have a little picnic up the path a bit further, but that day had not been one of those days. Nor had the day you met this particular nemesis who is staring you down from just across the creek with such a judgmental glance you would think this was a Sunday brunch and not an afternoon meander through the forest.

"The fuck do you want bitch?" You snarl and the bear indignantly sniffs as if to imply she's better than you. "Oh I'm sorry I didn't realize it was my fault your face is so fucking crooked, thought you were just born that way." She huffs again, making a big show of turning her back on you as you rush to get your equipment off and tucked safely out of reach before the skankiest grizzly you've ever met whips around and charges you shrieking something about "how dare you steal her man!!!!" and blah blah blah "I'll show you, you good for nothing hussy!!!!" as if you could actually understand her and this wasn't a three act play you insisted on writing yourself. You weren't even sure this bear was a girl if you stopped to think about it in between punches, not that you really cared. She huffs and makes a valiant attempt to pin you as you snarl and flash your teeth and beat her right back into the creek laughing at what sounds like pathetic winging about "kids these days!!!" and how rude you are for-

A startled noise pauses your match, as you both turn, harsh glares towards a break in the thicket where a very out of place, very surprised looking man stands, hand infuriatingly poised casually at his chin. His infuriating smirk doesn't unfurl until you growl, deep and low reverberating through your opponent just enough that she decides to leave for the day while you are preoccupied.

"Oya, this is a surprise." Jade doesn't move and you stay firm in the creek, body shaking with unspent adrenaline as he decides to move just a bit closer. "If you were that desperate for a sparring partner, I'm sure Floyd would have obliged, animal abuse is not exactly legal you know?"

"What the fuck are you doing here." You spit before you exit the creek, a flash of something darting through Jade's eyes as his gaze darts between you and your pack on the ground.

"Me? I should be asking that of you. The Mountain Lover's Club had to go through quite an ordeal to get permission to leave the school grounds unsupervised..." His teeth begin to show as you crash down from your high, you hadn't actually thought of whether or not you would need to talk to someone other than a friend about where you were going... surely Riddle would have mentioned something if you did? Or did he not think to ask since he wasn't the adventurous sort? "I can't imagine how the Headmage would react to know his ward had been sneaking out to terrorize the local wildlife."

"Hey Brenda started it!" You snap and Jade looks briefly towards the treeline where a very indignant bear is pursing her lips and inspecting her claws, the very picture of innocence if he does say so himself. "She stole my sandwich while I was taking pictures of the sunset!"

"Maybe you should have had someone there to hold it for you." He laughs, finally moving from his spot towards you and your pack, eyes gleaming with familiarity as he looks over your things. "Perhaps, someone who would be willing to... forget about what he just saw if they accompanied him next time?" It's a threat using what gives you joy against you certainly, and you huff indignantly at it but don't deny his request. Jade is an eel of his word, and his joy at doubling the Mountain Lover's Club membership cannot be contained as he ushers you the rest of the way down the mountain, eager to plan your first expedition together.

Not that he intends to ever delete the pictures he took. Your angry face is just too cute.

[bored-trans-orchidsexual]

A Starstruck Odyssey, and Masculinity

I have thoughts and am just gonna unload them on Tumblr. That's what we do here, right? I recently have been re-listening to Starstruck and have had some thoughts on it's depictions of masculinity. This isn't a serious post per se, just some thoughts and observations. Starstruck has a wide spectrum of masculine characters on display, though a lot of it is hostile/toxic. Most men or male-coded characters are either outright villains, or more neutral parties with some toxic and selfish tendencies. Don't get me wrong it's a wild violent galaxy and that's the point, the entire party participates in scamming, kidnapping, exploitations, and unnecessary murder and we love to see it, it's not like it explicitly makes all men out to be inherently more monstrous and evil than others. But I do think the depictions of masculinity can be interesting to observe. Amercadia is a pretty cut and dry critism of the patriarchy and American nationalist culture, which is fantastic worldbuilding to include. Many of the masculine-coded androids are actually pretty nice, friendly and helpful or serious about their jobs, aside from a bitchy one in the beginning who injects our main 'droid with an anxiety spike about being one of a kind. Pretty much all of the Slugs we meet occupy masculine bodies, and they seem to have an abstract gender that picks up pronouns from the body they occupy, though the monarch is objectively a king and uses masculine pronouns even before getting a body, and he's pretty selfish and stupid.

But the main pair I'm thinking of, is Barry and Gunnie. Looking at the two of them, there's a lot you can assume. Big Barry Syx is this massive, bulky dude in power armor and shades with a mullet, while Gunnie is a 4' 11" techie cyborg with a big ol' smile. Listen to them in action and many of your assumptions are reinforced; Barry is a total dude-bro associated with nuts, steroids, working out, and acting much like gym bros in our modern life, while Gunnie is a hyperactive technician just doing his best, despite being mired in sympathetic tragedy. Barry's trauma is fairly fantastical or common to stories, having his family gunned down by one of his own, while Gunnie is mostly weighted down by medical debt after he got in an accident after trusting the wrong person. Based on these apperent details one would assume Barry is this toxicly masculine jackass who's insecure about his flaws, while Gunnie is the smartest man on board and is trying to keep everyone in line, doing the right thing, ect. And of course, you'd be dead wrong. Gunnie, while a sympathetic and likable character, is *mired* in toxic masculine traits. While it was an accident that put him in his situation, it was brash foolishness and ignoring obvious red flags that got him in that position in the first place, not to mention a rebellion against his family driving him to it. Furthermore, as Lou himself admits in Adventuring party, Gunnie's *pride* is the reason his problems are so vast; He comes from a lot of money, his initial debt might have never happened or mostly gone away to begin with if he went back to his dads for help. His toxicity doesn't make him an unlikable character but he does have these traits. He's brash, prideful, and ignores common sense a lot. He is also very nice and friendly with others, listens to people, ect. He doesn't have *every* toxic trait in the book, but has them which I tend to not even notice because he's just a funny little guy. Barry, meanwhile, is just about the most wholesome and giving person in the entire 'verse. Syx *And* Nyne, when not under a slug's control, are these total sweetheart bros. Sure, they shit talk each other with friendly ribbing, and yes they are very good at violence, but this violence is always motivated by helping those in need or fighting for those who can't fight for themselves, the Barry Battalion way. Barrys hate it when people are rude, or hurt the innocent. Barrys fight for their friends, provide endless support and praise, and will throw their very bodies into danger to protect or help, as seen on Rec 97 and in the big finale of the battle of the brands. And while the thing the love most is other Barrys, that does not mean that what they respect is also being heavily macho dudes. Barry one (or was is spelled differently? Barry Won? who knows) was the professor who created the other Barrys, a nerdy and fragile professor type, that the Barrys loved and treated as a fellow Barry *literally* the moment they were created. Even Syd is a Barry now, and that's accepted both by Barry Syx who's known her a long time and bonded with her, as well as Barry Nyne who literally, to his perception, *Just* met her, despite her appearance as like a waitress with an arm canon. Being a Barry, in other words, isn't about being just like them, having the name Barry, or anything like that. It's a vibe, it's a way to be, and the 'verse is better off with these super wholesome boys who, despite embodying many stereotypes of the gym bro, posses *none* of the commonly toxic traits also associated with that. They aren't insecure around smarter people or those with different skillsets, they hold no gendered assumptions, and they never wanna use their might to opress others for their own satisfaction.

Just, some thoughts.

[rarityroo]

ok this is me just like losing it and i need some type of comfort but.. mizu x reader who got banned from tiktok for NONREASON 😭

Content comfort

(Modern!Mizu x Gn! Reader)

I’m so sorry but when I first read this giggled a bit. Hopefully you like this, I made it into more of a funny cute fic because I didn’t quite understand the tone of what you wanted that’s probably my fault though. I clearly love writing for Mizu so please do request for her more she’s my actual GF, she’ll always have two pics instead of one whenever I write for her, anyway, Enjoy!🫶🏻

You stared at your phone in disbelief, you looked at the notification, again, and again. It seemed to not fully compute in your head.

As you sat on the couch staring at your phone completely lost, Mizu walked from the kitchen to where you were, the living room, Mizu looked at you with a concerned expression.

“Uh, my love?” Her voice breaks you out of your shock-induced trance. “…yeah?” You slowly said, not fully able to respond coherently. “Are you alright?” Mizu asks cautiously. You look up from your phone and turn your attention to her, “I-I don’t know?” You say disbelief very evident in your voice.

You had no way to explain this, not just the situation to Mizu but why you got banned in the first place. This definitely caught you off guard, Mizu moves closer to you, sitting next to you on the couch. “Tell me.” Mizu softly demands, she’s not one to dance around serious matters especially when they came to you. You look back down at your phone still shocked.

She puts her hand under your chin, making you look up at her when your eyes meet her beautiful blue ones, you take a deep breath, and you finally explain what happened. "So, remember that silly video I posted yesterday with our cat, Vinnie? Well, apparently TikTok didn't appreciate Vinnies moves as much as we did," you confess, trying to lighten the mood with a small chuckle. "They banned me for no reason!” You exclaimed exasperated.

Mizu's eyes widen in surprise, her expression softening into a mischievous grin. "You know…TikTok's loss is our gain," she quips, trying to humor you. "Now we have more time for our own little dance parties with Vinnie without worrying about those silly algorithms." She chuckles softly, nudging you playfully. "Who needs TikTok anyway when we've got our own private entertainment right here?" She gestures to Vinnie rolling on the floor in a crazed manner.

You can't help but smile at her attempt to inject humor into the situation, grateful for her humorous approach. "Yeah, you're right," you say, with a small laugh. "Maybe this is a sign that we should start our own rival app, 'MizuTok' or something." Mizu says in a serious tone, you stop and look at her, you stare a each other for a long moment, then burst out laughing at the idea, imagining the ridiculous videos that would fill that virtual space.

With a small grin on your face and Mizu’s supportive humor, you couldn’t help but feel a bit better.

[coraniaid]

Headcanon that I've been playing around with for a few days: what if the reason the Tento di Cruciamentum -- the test Buffy is forced to undergo in Season 3's Helpless -- is so hard to square with a lot of the show's established lore is that, in a very real sense, it doesn't exist? What if it isn't the rite of passage that every Slayer goes through that Giles tells Buffy it is?

Let me explain: I think there are two main issues with the Cruciamentum as presented to us. One issue is that it doesn't really make sense as worldbuilding (but then, what part of Buffy's world-building would survive any serious scrutiny?). The other -- more serious -- issue is that, depending on when Giles is meant to have found out about it, it retroactively does very odd things to his character.

As an attempt at worldbuilding, then: the Cruciamentum doesn't make sense on the grounds the Council's leader Quentin Travers gives to justify it. Quite simply: what on earth are they testing for and why? The whole point of the Slayer is that she has superhuman strength and reflexes! Testing how well she'd do without those atribbutes is pointless: if she didn't have those things she wouldn't be the Slayer!

If the Slayer is meant to find out about the test and her own Watcher's role in subjecting her to it after the fact then it damages her relationship with the Council for no obvious benefit. If she isn't ever meant to find out, then … okay, if she survives you now know she (might) be able to survive a similar situation if it happens in the future, only it won't because you won't do it again. (And maybe she won't survive a second time anyway; but she'll certainly spend a lot of time needlessly worrying about the possibility.) If she doesn't survive, you now need to find and train a new Slayer from scratch. And if this was the point all along, there are much easier ways for the Council (who explicitly have "wetworks" teams and the resources to hire professional assassins) to get rid of a troublesome Slayer. I mean, why don't they just shoot her? Or if they're poisoning her anyway (which they're doing to rob her of her powers), why not inject her with something fatal?

And, although I realize this isn't true outside of the canon of the TV show, it's noteworthy that the Cruciamentum is almost never brought up again after Helpless. Indeed, it's very hard to square the existence of the Cruciamentum with any of the show post-Helpless. Whether with Faith (who's supposed need to go through her own Cruciamentum is consistently ignored) or with the Season 7 Potentials (if "every Slayer", as Giles tells us, undergoes the Cruciamentum on her eighteenth birthday, it must logically be the case that no Slayer is ever called after her eighteenth birthday. So how old is Kennedy?) or with Buffy being allowed free access to the Watcher's Diaries (surely she'd notice, at some point, that a lot of Slayers happened to all die on the same birthday? wouldn't she think that was strange?).

For Giles the key question seems to me to be when exactly he knew about the Cruciamentum. If he always knew, even before he ever met Buffy, I kind of think that retroactively poisons her relationship with him in much the same way that the Normal Again retcon poisons Buffy's relationship with her mother. Keeping something like that secret for months or even years is quite straightforwardly monstrous. His various speeches to her in Prophecy Girl or Lie To Me or Innocence about being on her side and offering her nothing but respect read very very differently if you assume that all this time he knew what he'd be putting her through if and when she made it to eighteen. His efforts helping her study for the SATs -- and admonishing her seriously that this is a "rite of pssage" -- takes on a pretty sinister second reading. And so on, and so forth. It just doesn't really work. I can't convince myself the Giles of the first two seasons of the show -- or even the Giles of Dead Man's Party -- knew anything about this.

No, I think the only way of saving Giles as a character, and the only way of making sense of how quickly Buffy forgives him, is to assume that the Cruciamentum is something that Travers surprised Giles with. Something he didn't know about until, at most, a couple of weeks before the test itself. Something that he was told he had to go along with if he didn't want to be replaced, something that every Slayer before Buffy had been through, something that she'd survive as long as he'd trained her well and she was a better than average Slayer (which, being Giles, of course he'd assume she was). I think this explains why he's still so angry about it, and yet why he doesn't simply refuse outright: he's deliberately not been given enough time to think things through.

(Even so, the decision he does make is pretty terrible; I don't think there's any arguing about that. I still wouldn't blame Buffy if she never forgave him; and I don't think he'd have any grounds to complain either.)

Furthermore though, the way the Council deal with Giles after Helpless -- officially firing him, but not doing anything to stop him from continuing to act as Buffy's de facto Watcher, sending a very junior and unpolished replacement who lets himself be bossed around by his predecessor -- doesn't really make sense either. Travers makes a show of firing him in front of Buffy and suggests he have "no further contact" with her, and Travers threatens that he'll be "dealt with" if he interferes with the new Watcher or countermands his authority "in any way". Only, uh. Giles does all that, and suffers exactly no repercussions.

In Season 5's Checkpoint Giles will claim that the Council are "the best in the world" when it comes to bureaucracy and pulling political strings, and in that same episode Travers threatens to have him deported. So if the Council wanted to make sure he wouldn't have further contact with Buffy, why not just … do that? If they don't want Giles to be in Sunnydale -- or anywhere even close to California -- we're told they have the means to arrange that. And yet they very obviously don't.

Putting these strands together -- it's very hard to make sense of the Cruciamentum as a mandatory test for all Slayers; it seems plausible that Giles only found out about it from Travers at very short notice; the Council had the ability to make Giles "firing" more permanent and never took it -- I think it's credible to suggest that … well, that the Cruciamentum doesn't exist.

Whatever evidence Travers used to convince Giles of it was somehow fabricated or faked. Maybe there was some sort of test like it, centuries ago, and Travers could just pretend it was still being practiced. Maybe there never was. Maybe it's like one of those supposed medieval torture methods that the Victorians used to love to make up. Maybe Travers just decided that, with the properly trained Kendra gone and a new Watcher heading to Sunnydale anyway (we know that Giles has told the Council about Faith, remember), it wouldn't hurt to try something that would either rid him of a particularly irritating Slayer and leave (what he assumed would be) a more malleable replacement who didn't need to be found, or, failing that, would at least damage Buffy's relationship with her Watcher. Maybe he's happy for Giles to carry on providing free instruction and training to the active Slayers; he just wants to make sure neither of them trust him too much. Maybe the events of the episode played out almost exactly the way Travers wanted. Maybe the Cruciamentum never existed until he made it up.

Or, okay, yes, maybe the Cruciamentum is just a much bigger deal in fanon than it ever was meant to be in canon and, like most of Buffy's often silly world-building, you're just not meant to think about it too hard. Both good options.

[slavghoul]

Hi Slav, this maybe isn't ghost related, but perhaps more personal. Often times when I read through your posts, I find that we share similar thoughts or preferences. For example, I find it very very odd when the papas are referred to as Terzo or Secondo etc in serious conversation because that isn't how it was when I joined, and it's just not how I enjoy the band. But, I don't want to be someone who perpetuates the new vs old debates. I actually really value and respect your take on things because you're able to inject your opinion in a way that doesn't alienate anyone or make anyone feel stupid. I however feel as though I cannot let go of the frustration I feel when I engage with the fandom. I dont participate much at all because I dont jive with the current culture, but when I do indulge I just feel discontent and disgruntled. It's like I can feel myself becoming the jaded old man. I'm not super hung up on it, it's not really something I think about often. I usually just use the walk away method the moment I start to feel irritated. I got other things to do besides get mad at things I cannot change. But it still sucks

Preamble out of the way, how do you stay so calm and chill and remember to be considerate when you feel your enjoyment of things doesnt align with the vocal majority? How did you acheive your current mindset beyond just learning to let go or not engage with things that might lead to feelings like this? I'm using ghost as the base for this question, but I'm really asking for some general wisdom. I apologize if that's a little loaded.

Jokes aside, this is a lovely and thoughtful question, thank you, but I’m not sure if I have any advice, other than „create your own bubble and live in it because the outside world is a terrible place.” I have my own Ghost-bubble that I very rarely step out of. When I do, I sometimes regret it. You must remember that what thoughts I decide to share here are not all of the thoughts I have. I go through those same moments of disillusionment as you do, it’s just not something I necessarily want to burden others with, so you don’t see me talking about it. I always tried to make this place, to the extent I could make it so, positive and welcoming to everyone, so I keep my personal frustrations on the down low. Doesn’t mean it doesn’t happen, though. Yes, learning to let go and not engaging with matters that leave you feeling like this is possibly the only solution with any viable effects. I try to keep in mind that my enjoyment of the band is my personal experience. What others think and how they behave or interpret things doesn’t define the true essence of what I hold dear. Ask yourself: what was it that made you fall in love with the band? What brings you real joy? Then focus on that. This won’t apply to everyone, but a lot of what brings me joy in relation with the band are things I do on my own, e.g. writing with no intention to share the texts with anyone, collecting, archiving, keeping stats on things that probably only I care about, etc. That’s my happy Ghost bubble, mostly a lone but peaceful place. I think it’s absolutely crucial to craft your own fandom experience, one that suits and satisfies your needs while also keeping you sane. This is meant to be a positive experience after all. But sometimes you gotta make effort to make it so. 

[presidenthades]

Heyo! Really love your House Full Of Daughters AU, this AU gives me life, ngl. Last year when you were still posting ‘The Golds’ my little butt was always happy to see my notification button go off whenever you published a new chapter. There is more I would like to say, but I would probably be going off on a tangent, so have a piece of fanart instead! Hope you like it :), I decided to draw Lucera since she’s my favorite (and I already kind of have a bias for Lucerys already). Can’t wait for your other stuff, and your future chapters for ‘Compromise and being Compromised’ (always gets a laugh out of me at least at one point from each chapter). All in all I really did enjoy making this piece of fanart based off your fics, I may even try to draw the rest of the Velaryon girls at a later point in time! Take care of yourself, and good luck with the rest of your writing!

On a side note: WTH Aemond, go get your girl! Someone’s gonna have to teach this boy how to rizz, cause lord knows he needs it (Poor Aegon, he really did try, but what can you do with someone who lacks that much charisma. Oh well, maybe Daemon may give him some pointers (mostly likely not gonna happen, but that boy seriously need some help or backup) who knows weirder things have happened 🤷‍♂️).

Oh my god I love this. 😭😍😭😍😭😍 It’s so beautiful, and I love all the little details you put in! I think that’s a little brooch of Arrax’s head at her bodice? And are those oranges for her perfume/Laenor???

Ahhhhhhh! I am swooning.

^me at my screen

HOTD/ASOIAF is usually serious media, but I love dramedy so I like to inject some laughs here and there. Aemond takes himself very seriously so it can be hard with him, compared to Aegon who’s a natural jester, but I’m glad that I managed to imbue some levity into Compromise!

Luce takes herself way less seriously, so it’s easier for her to laugh at stuff. 💁🏻‍♀️

Ahaha before I started writing Daemon’s Handbook, one of the premises I considered was Daemon helping the Targbros romance the Velargirls. Then I remembered he hates the Greens so he would never. But it’s fun to imagine. 🤗

[bookishfeylin]

Feel free to ignore if you're tired of hearing about this, but: your tags about SJM injecting real world morals into her stories and then ignoring them. Suddenly I am entirely clicking with where you are and from what point you're making your commentary. SJM is the one who chose to use modern concepts and buzz words for abuse and PTSD, and she is the one who chose to judge some characters by modern moral concepts but not others. That's what makes it so hard to do the usual analysis of characters, so I just don't. But you, if I understand you, are making your analyses to point out the flaws and holes in HER judgments. To show that SHE made it unbalanced and isn't playing by her own rules.

Yes, this is it exactly. I despise hypocrisy, and Sarah's books are unfortunately the pinnacle of such. The same standards that are used to judge Tamlin and Nesta would also render Feysand and co abusive, but the text (read: Sarah's favoritism) refuses to acknowledge that, doing a disservice to her own themes in the first place.

I also want to apologize in advance for the rant this is going to turn into, because man do I have FEELINGS about this.

Part of the reason the ACOTAR fandom is so toxic is because Mrs. Maas applied real world standards to a fantasy series, creating a conundrum where some characters are allowed to exist in and operate within a fantasy-based morality (like Rhysand, the Inner Circle, and Feyre) whilst others are held up to a stricter, real-world morality and are vehemently critiqued in text for failing to meet the moral standards of our world (Tamlin, Nesta, even Lucien), leaving fans of the latter group of characters to call out the hypocrisy in text for their characters being evaluated by standards that the former aren’t held to whilst fans of the former set of characters happily indulge in such hypocritical writing even while promoting this series as an excellent example of handling of real-world themes like abuse (and yes I did copy and paste this entire paragraph from another post of mine lol).

Some weeks back I saw someone on THAT SIDE of the fandom explain that they hated Tamlin because he abused Feyre (valid!) and pull out a picture of Sarah including the National Domestic Violence Hotline at the end of ACOFAS as evidence that liking him was morally wrong or whatever (I'd reblog the post, but OP is, again, on THAT SIDE of the fandom and sadly has me blocked now :( ).

But that same hotline is the one I've used in my analysis of why RHYSAND is abusive here, here, and here. The same source Sarah includes in these books to make a point about Tamlin being abusive also renders Rhysand abusive. But here's what gets me: The person and others like her who were reblogging that pic of the domestic violence hotline were also whining about people judging Rhysand by real world standards. Yes, I'm serious. For a topic like abuse, one deeply personal to me and many others, Sarah (and her fandom) can't pick and choose what characters to apply real world standards to. Not for something like this.

But we don't even have to use real world standards to call out the hypocrisy in how her characters were written--we can use ACOTAR's own morality as well. Case in point: Nesta's treatment in ACOSF. Locking Nesta up is treated as the right thing to do in ACOSF, but ACOMAF goes OUT OF ITS WAY to show that locking someone up is wrong and is a violation of your personal bodily autonomy, NO MATTER THE REASON. This action is often defended in one of two ways: by stans saying that Nesta was embarrassing Feysand when they needed to be keeping up appearances for the court, or, more commonly, because Nesta was an alcoholic. But neither reply holds water. If Nesta embarrassing Feysand in ACOSF was bad because they needed to keep up appearances as the court rebuilt and prepared for war with the mortal queens and Koschei, then... that justifies Tamlin getting upset with Feyre over the tithe several books earlier. That was his logic for being upset that Feyre gave the water wraith her jewelry, and also his logic for (according to fandom) "stuffing her in dresses"--keeping up appearances for the people and preventing Hybern from finding any weakness to exploit (again, this is according to fandom. In the books, the dresses were chosen by Ianthe but we both know no one pays attention and Tamlin is blamed for everything anyway). So either Tamlin was justified in ACOMAF, or Feysand are wrong. Nesta's alcoholism isn't a good excuse either, because if she were truly an alcoholic, Feysand would've put a healer in the House with her to help her through withdrawal and prevent her from having a seizure and dying, which I'll discuss in more detail in my upcoming post about Nesta. Either way, Feysand's treatment of Nesta was inexcusable by ACOTAR's own rules that say locking people up is bad, and in trying to excuse this some stans accidentally justify Tamlin's behavior in ACOMAF as he had the same excuses.

This also applies to the Inner Circle voting on whether or not to keep Nesta's powers a secret from her--didn't ACOMAF also say that that was bad and controlling on Tamlin's part? Why is Tamlin keeping Feyre's magic a secret abusive and controlling, but the Inner Circle deciding to do the same (even if it failed anyway) is fine?

The hypocrisy that began in ACOMAF in which Tamlin was declared abusive but Rhysand wasn't despite Rhysand... also being abusive spiraled out of control in ACOSF and is ultimately what fractured this fandom, and because of said hypocrisy nothing after ACOTAR 1 is enjoyable for me.

So yes. Beyond ACOTAR 1, I'm forced to evaluate the characters with the real-world morals Sarah decided to randomly include, and in doing so can't help but be faced by this series' own hypocrisy, and I'm hoping my analysis will allow others to see that the hypocrisy ultimately causes it to fold in on itself and destroys its own point.

[trash-king18]

m pt. 16

sorry guys i’m j a mess at this point i haven’t been posting

cw: shameful miggy, m masturbation, miggy with the oral fixation?? marking

————

he was in no condition to get himself home, but you couldn’t leave him there like this. when he was able to stand, you took him to the lab to take his vitals. they were better than normal, the aftershock of the injections was seemingly unavoidable, but there were no convulsions this time which was good.

he still wouldn’t meet your eye but every time you looked away to check a screen or grab something he stared at the cut on your face.

after you finished drawing his blood you went to take the needle out and the pad of his finger gently traced beside it

you flinch slightly

“i hurt you” he sounds like he’d just come out of a daze

“no you didn’t it’s fine”

“i did that”

“it was an accident miguel it doesn’t hurt, it’s okay”

“no it’s not, i hurt you”

“you weren’t trying to, it’s just a little cut”

“no. i got angry and i couldn’t control myself and i“

“miguel” you pull his hand from your face “stop. you have plenty of apologies to make but that’s not one of them”

“i know and i-“

“hey. we can talk about it later. you’re vitals look good right now we just need to get you to bed”

“i’ll sleep here it’s fine”

“no. no you won’t. cmon i’m taking you home”

he looks at you puzzled

but you grab his arm and lead him to the elevator. he follows you in and when you get down you just start walking to the car.

“..get in”

you’re silent on the way to his apartment. he’s clearly uncomfortable, you doubt he’s even been in a car for years.

you park on the street and let yourself into the building since it doesn’t lock and lead him all the way to his door and he just kind of follows like a sad puppy.

he opens the door and steps in. he turns to you as you stand in the doorway. you stay there for a moment but you eventually step in which seems to relieve him.

he eases himself onto a stool at the island, his whole body clearly a little tense from the injection

“i’m sorry”

“what for?”

“everything.”

“no i’m gonna need to hear some specifics”

you tease him slightly, testing the waters

“this isn’t a joke”

“oh i’m being very serious. i believe you owe me a total of.. 5? apologies”

“five?”

“yeahhh and they each have to be separate”

he lets out a breath but he’s not argumentative about it

“i’m sorry for following you and-“

“-mm mm seperate”

“really”

you look at him dead serious

“i’m sorry for..being.. a jerk. i’m sorry for being irresponsible…”

“..anddd..”

he rolls his eyes but it’s more humorous than annoyed

“i’m sorry for invading your privacy”

“..aaaanndd?”

“ay are you really gonna make me say it��

“without a doubt”

he sighs “.. and im.. sorry… for acting like a jealous boyfriend” he mumbles the last part

“im sorry i couldn’t hear you”

“…im sorry.. for acting like a jealous boyfriend. are you happy now”

“maybe a little” you smirk

“mi cariño eres una demonio” he smiles slightly but there’s pain in his face

my sweet you are a demon

“not sure you’re in a position to make fun of me right now”

“you’re right.”

“…but i’m glad you are”

you walk up to him and place a hand on his cheek

he brings his hand to yours and leans into your touch.

“y/n..”

“no it’s over, we’ve apologized. and i know i don’t have to worry about it again because if i do you can find a new biomedical engineer”

“funny”

“i’m being serious”

“i believe it”

he searches your eyes before slowly reaching out to put his hand on your hip. his touch is light and he keeps his eyes on yours and then gently moves to your back and pulls you between his legs.

he speaks quietly

“it’s late.. you.. you should go”

you don’t move “i should”

he nods reluctantly

“but..”

he raises his brow

“it’s really dark and my eyes are tired.. i’m not sure i should drive”

“are you sure”

“don’t make me change my mind”

he doesn’t answer he just pulls you into his arms and picks you up. he walks you into his room and lays you down on the bed.

“uh.. clothes?” but he’s already digging a shirt from his drawer and handing it to you.

you both change

you sit down on the edge of the bed and he crawls in next to you. you sit back against the headboard but you look down and realize he’s gently tugging at the fabric of your shirt.

“what?”

“you’re just.. so far”

“i’m a foot away”

“but.. you could be right here” he looks down at the space right next to him

“…it’s late i think maybe we should just.. sleep yeah?”

“…ok”

he switches the lamp off and lays back down. he falls asleep quickly, his body’s tired from the injection effects. you watch him for a while, he even looked broody asleep. but not long after you fell asleep too.

when you woke up it was later than normal given it was saturday and the sun was streaming in between the drawn curtains. after squirming around for a minute trying to turn onto your other side you see him sitting on the edge of the bed with his back turned to you.

your eyes are barely open and your voice is sleepy “buen día”

he doesn’t answer so you force yourself up and crawl over behind him

he’s looking down at his lap seemingly lost in thought

you stifle a giggle

“oh-“

“shit, hi.. morning” he moves his hand to cover his hard on and moves so his back is blocking you again.

“i uhm sorry it just-“

“oh don’t be embarrassed spider boy it’s not your fault”

he grumbles “what did i say about calling me that”

“oh cmon” you move closer and rest your chin on his shoulder “no one’s here to hear it”

“yeah but i have to, it’s insulting”

“you’ve said 10 times worse to any and everyone who even slightly pisses you off”

“this is different”

“how”

“because it’s you”

he shifts uncomfortably still trying to hide it

“i’ve seen a boner before miguel, stop acting like a hormonal teenage boy who just started puberty”

“you are just full of insults this morning”

he turns his head to the side so he can look at you and you smile at him teasingly. he suddenly kisses you.

“how do you feel this morning”

“me? im more worried about you” you glance down at his lap

“don’t worry about that”

“but” you kneel behind him with your legs on either side and wrap your arms around him from behind “i am.. it’s not healthy after all”

his bare skin is warm and you relax into him

“oh? you gonna help me out”

“nope.” you reply sweetly

“no?”

“mm i was thinking i’d just.. watch”

his bare skin is warm and you relax into him. he gets the message and manages to tug the waist band of his sweatpants down just enough and takes it in his hand stroking it a few times until it gets fully hard. he glances at you again but you’ve occupied yourself pressing gentle kisses to his neck shoulders and upper back. he leans back into it slightly as his hand moves up and down.

your hands glide over the muscles of his chest and abs, letting your nails lightly drag against his skin.

he starts to moan and his other hand comes around to grip your leg at his side and pull you even closer to him

you focus your lips on the skin on the base of his neck as you watch him start to thrust into his hand.

“god tus manos”

your hands

you tug his ear gently with your teeth and whisper into his skin

“seguir hablando por mi”

keep talking for me

“ay fuck niña bonita tu seras la muerte para mi”

pretty girl you’ll be the death of me

his hand speeds up and his head falls back onto your shoulder. his breath comes out as a series of pants and moans.

“unh.. fuck cariño.. i-“

“lo sé, i know”

i know

“di mi nombre”

say my name

you kiss his neck and say his name softly

“miguel”

he starts to jerk slightly

breathlessly “otra vez”

again

you whisper his name into his ear again and he cums into his hand

he keeps his head back on you and shuts his eyes as he catches his breath. you press gentle kisses to his jawline.

he stays like that for a moment and grabs tissues from the night stand to clean up and you run your fingers lazily through his hair as he does still peppering kisses to the base of his neck. he puts them aside and stills for a moment before turning around and tackling you onto the bed laying you on top of him

“hey! what are you doing”

he covers your face with kisses and then buries his face in your neck

you hear yourself giggle and you feel like you’re on an alien planet. which honestly would’ve probably felt more normal than this given your job.

you were in miguel o’haras bed being assaulted by soft kisses after spending the night together. as weird as your.. situation with each other was you still would have never fathomed that he of all people would ever be like this.

he takes both your hands and guides them to his head and you start to comb through his hair and massage his scalp which earns you a low sigh of gratitude

“i wonder what all our super hero friends would think if they knew you were really just a big softie”

he stops abruptly and looks up at you

“they won’t think anything because no one will ever hear a word about any of this”

“mmmhm i can hear the jokes jess would make right now, now that would be funny”

“y/n im serious”

“so am i, she’s hilarious”

“y/n.”

“oh my god you know i’m kidding” he nods satisfied and goes back to attending to your neck

“i’d never admit to sleeping with you do you know what that would do to my reputation”

he scoffs and grabs your hips flipping so that he’s pinning you down and says

“you didn’t seem too worried about that reputation a few minutes ago”presses a bruising kiss to your lips

“mmph stop it”

he dips down to suck on the skin under your ear

“do not give me a hickey”

“why not” he grins against your skin before sucking your skin back into his mouth

“we just said no one could know about this”

“put your hair down”

“i’m being serious”

he let’s go satisfied with the mark he’s left before moving down slightly to make another

“they don’t have to know who it’s from”

“~miguel~”

“just that they can’t have you”

“does this have anything to do with marcus”

he tugs the collar of his shirt down so he can reach your collar bone and starts on another “nope.”

“you’re lying”

he mumbles against you “sure cariño whatever you say”

the entirety of his body weight rests on the lower half of you keeping you caged underneath him and you just relax into him and comb his hair out of his eyes with your fingers.

a couple marks later and your shirts on the floor and he’s drawing lazy circles around your nipple with his tongue.

you start moaning lightly at the sensation and your head falls to the side and you catch a glimpse of the clock

10:06

“shit!”

he looks up at you quizzically seeming slightly upset by the interruption

“i’m late” you say squirming your way out from under him

“late for what it’s saturday”

“i know! i promised my sister id be there in like 20 minutes to take the boys for the day while she works a case”

you scramble to gather your clothes from yesterday, you don’t have time to run home for fresh ones.

“fuck ok i’m gonna shower really quick and then i have to go”

you don’t even let him answer before tugging his shirt on to dash down the hall to the bathroom.

about 5 minutes later you emerge with wet hair combed back fully dressed. he’s standing in the kitchen with your bag on the counter.

“you’re coming back right?”

“uh tonight? i’m not sure if she works late enough i’ll probably just crash there”

“…right” you knew that’s not what he was asking but you couldn’t consider that right now. besides crystals cases could take days with no time to come home.

he hands you your bag

“thanks i’ve gotta go. take it easy today no missions, and don’t try to sneak one lyla already knows you shouldn’t be going. ill.. see you.. around”

“that’s it?”

“what.. did you want a kiss goodbye” you tease

“no-“ his eyes flash with guilt

“oh my god you totally did”

“no i just thought..”

“save it o’hara. your covers blown, you’re an absolute sucker”

“i am not a-“

you kiss his cheek gently. it felt weird. it wasn’t lustful or teasing, it was just.. a kiss.

he opens the portal for you and you turn to leave but before you walk in he grabs your arm and pulls you back

“i changed my mind”

he plants a kiss on the bruises blossoming on your neck

“keep your hair up”

————

taglist:

@urmotherswhor3 @kirke-is-my-name @rexxesgirl @simp4miguell @urmomisafinewoman @dammittjanet @cheezit-luv3rr @miggyyyyohara

[ko-garashi]

Hello! I love your writing! I was wondering if you do or would do requests at some point

I will start the first post of the new year with congratulations. Happy New Year everyone! 🎉 The past year has been difficult, but I hope you are all doing well. Let's start with the request that was sent to me. (I apologize for answering another question. I saw that you asked about post-mutation, but for some reason I don't see this question😔)

👔🧪 I’ve already written about headcanons with William Birkin’s post-mutation, but I’ll probably make an ultimate post on this topic:

1) William can calmly survive a serious injury or even the loss of a limb. Yes, the body will not be able to mutate, because it will be busy regenerating the lost limb. And of course it will take time.

2) For the same reason, William is not afraid of any bullets or cuts. This all heals quite quickly. But in the case of bullets stuck in the body, this will only lead to irritation from unpleasant sensations in the body.

3) By the way, about unpleasant sensations. The G-virus gives him a headache. And this happens almost every day. This happens because there is too much of the virus in his body.

4) Also, due to the high concentration of the virus in the body, William suffers from a side effect in the form of irritability, which develops into outbursts of aggression. And given William’s difficult character, it sometimes becomes simply unbearable.

5) William is afraid to mutate, although he retains his ability to do so. He is damn afraid of losing control and not being able to get back, so he tries to control his anger and other negative emotions. Because this is what triggers his mutation.

6) There is a scar on his hand and half of his face. The fact is that his severely deformed arm and half of his face underwent rather rough regeneration after surgical interventions (for example, his arm was completely amputated). The skin did not form correctly during regrowth. So there is no way to fix this. For the same reason, he sees poorly with his second eye.

7) His scars often itch.

8) Since it is impossible to kill William using simple methods, the most effective way is to separate his head from his body. In this case, the body will lose the commands that the brain usually sends to regenerate. And if there are no commands, then the body will not restore the head. But only William and Albert himself know about this.

9) Due to the fact that the G-virus senses the blood relative of its host, William can sense Sherry's presence, which stirs up his fatherly feelings (because the serum that contains the virus suppresses the need to transmit the virus to another host)

10) William's metabolism has increased. This makes him almost always hungry.

11) A special serum helps him contain the virus, which he needs to inject in a certain dose. If William had received help earlier and been given an antidote, he would not have suffered from all this.

12) Thanks to the virus, William has acquired improved endurance, tenacity of limbs (this helps him to deftly climb onto some structure), and also increased his strength. Not significantly, of course, since he is still not equal to Albert in strength, but he can clearly stand up for himself

13) William finds it difficult to return to a reversible state in the second or even third phase. 4 is already a point of no return.

14) During the mutation, William experiences hellish pain in his body, as if he is being turned inside out.

15) William’s scars in their texture are more reminiscent of burns, although in fact they are not burns.

16) His sense of smell and hearing have also improved slightly. Perhaps in compensation for the almost lost eye.

If I remember anything else, I'll update the list!

(and I remind you that if you want to make another request, I am open to it)

[ranchracoon]

"Devour" Ch. 2: Fresh Blood

Master Post

Chapter 1

The next morning starts earlier than usual, you yawn loudly in the comfort of your room and give your head a shake to wake yourself up. You put on your second clean uniform the same way you always do, and ritualistically you brush your hands over the smooth texture of the vest. You tighten the tie around your neck and shift it down microscopically to allow a little extra breathing room. Instead of going to Lady Dimitrescu’s chambers first, you go down the hall where the staff sleep and knock on the chamber doors, hearing the all too familiar sound of the creaking beds. The hallway slowly fills with tired-eyed maids all rubbing their eyes, some fixing their hair and the rest looking up to you expectantly. 

"Morning everyone, with this being your first official day I have one last announcement for you all: under no circumstances should you ever open any windows in the presence of the ladies. The only windows allowed to be open are in the kitchen and your own chambers. Doing so will result in severe punishment or death.”

You see the women look at each other, curious about whether or not you are serious but noone says anything so you proceed to tell them to get started on the tasks you assigned yesterday. A few of the maids ask you for a reminder on where they need to go and what they need to do. Something inside you tumbles around, most likely nervousness but you tell yourself it's only hunger since you haven’t eaten yet. Yes, that’s it. You resume your usual routine, going to wake up the ladies, starting with Lady Dimitrescu first of course. 

Your shoes clack against the marble floor, the rhythmic sound is soothing in the deathly quiet hall and you space out your steps in an attempt to sound like Lady Dimitrescu. It doesn’t work. Waking the first two daughters goes by normally, they groan and give some sort of confirmation that they are awake and getting out of bed. Lady Daniela is the last one but when you knock on her door there’s no answer or response. Before you knock again, you hear a howling yell from the Hall of Joy. You scramble through the door into the hall to find Lady Daniela standing by the statue of four women, and a maid standing by the fireplace with pieces of wood scattered on the floor. 

“Ugh you stupid maid! What are you doing here?” Lady Daniela yells. 

“I um-I-” The maid stutters. 

“I um-I-” Lady Daniela mocks. “You’ve ruined my morning. Now I’ll have to show you what happens to maids who screw up.” She says as she raises her sickle over her head. 

“Wait!” You scream and run toward the two of them, injecting yourself between them. 

“Move out of the way Y/N!” Lady Daniela growls. 

“I’m sorry Lady Daniela but I can’t. You’re hungry and not thinking clearly, I’ll take the blame for whatever she did. It’s her first day afterall.”

Lady Daniela pants heavily before lowering her sickle and hissing under her breath, “you’re lucky you’re cute. Next time I’m cutting her in half.”

After Lady Daniela disappears into her swarm you release a deeply pent up breath and turn around to the maid. Her eyes are puffy and red with tears, her body is trembling violently, and she hiccups from suppressing her crying. You sigh again and kneel down to pick up the wood. Once you have the wood in your hands, you stand back up and put it in the wood storage container next to the heater. 

“What happened?” You ask the maid softly. 

“I was coming in here to start the fire when I accidentally ran into her and dropped the wood. I’m so sorry. She-she wasn’t really going to kill me was she?” The maid asks through more hiccups. 

“She absolutely was. The others will too. You got lucky today but next time I won’t be able to save you. Now get out of here and meet me in the kitchen.” You order her.

The maid can’t run out fast enough, you catch the door before it slams shut from her forcefully opening it and let it close gently. Lady Daniela is by far the most unpredictable daughter out of the three, and you can only hope she won’t tell her mother of this. After you brush the wood chips from your pants and coat, you make your way to the kitchen. The maid from before is whispering to another near the window, her eyes wet with fresh tears as her shoulders tremble hard enough you can see them shiver. With a snap of your fingers they hush their gossip and stand to get the rolling tray ready; the kitchen staff has instructions on how to make breakfast but it appears many of them have fainted from the sight of the severed limbs in the back. 

You grumble under your breath and usher the rest of the staff to get the tea so you can add the droplets of blood while it’s still hot. Normally the ladies can survive on animal meat but because of supply issues and the winter weather, they’ve had to sustain themselves on the next best meat. You demonstrate how to prepare the human flesh to hide the quality and reassure the staff that cooking is not something they will have to do often. Except when cooking meals for themselves; otherwise the ladies feast on blood and raw meat. The two maids roll the cart toward you as you place the covered, silver tray off to the right so that the tea pot and cups can sit on the left. They follow you to the main hall where the Lady and her daughters wait, you pause your movement and stand off to the side near Lady Dimitrescu while the others roll the cart to the table in front of the fireplace. The daughters mumble impatiently to each other, Daniela locks eyes with you and gives you a wink, you guess your reaction is satisfactory for she looks away smiling. Words of torment and promises of torture pass between Lady Bela and Lady Cassandra as they watch the maids scramble to serve without spilling the tea, knowing it would be a fatal mistake. 

“Mother. I can’t take this anymore. I need fresh blood.” Lady Bela whines. 

The lady raises her eyes over her glass, their golden aurora pouring over her daughter as she leans back into the chair far too small for her, and taking a drawn-out sip of her drink. The Lady turns her head in your direction, her large brim hat shifting and shadowing her face from the light of the flames. You look up at her to see her entire face shrouded in the shadow, yet her eyes still cut through like two beams of lights. 

“Y/N.”

You lick your lips nervously, “yes my lady.”

“I have business to attend to today and wish to not be disturbed under any circumstances. You are in charge. I have high expectations for you to keep everything in order, and that my girls do not kill nor feed from anyone.” Her face returns to the light of the fire, lifting the cup to her lips to drain the last few droplets.

You nod your head, “of course my lady, I won’t disappoint.”

You sigh heavily and steal a glance at Lady Daniela who only smirks at you and flashes you a toothy grin. Lady Daniela almost killed a maid because she and her sisters are on the verge of psychosis from lack of blood. If you don’t do something soon, these maids won’t make it until dinner.

“Permission to speak freely my lady?” You ask firmly.

“Granted.” 

Your heart begins to race, “if your daughters need to satisfy themselves enough to not kill anyone. I offer that they can use my own blood. With your permission.”

The daughters flock to you immediately, their hungry eyes focusing on the visible veins pumping blood underneath your skin, and wanting to sink their teeth in. A shiver runs up your spine when their cold breath encloses you, the smells of cooked flesh and dried blood hazing your senses. Their giggles and low droning drown out all other noise in your ears while they circle you, examining which part of you to bite first. 

“We won’t kill her mother.” Lady Cassandra hums.

“Warm blood.” Lady Bela moans. 

“You better not be teasing me.” Lady Daniela growls.

“Daughters.” Lady Dimitrescu orders, causing the girls to pause and take a step back “what brought this on?”

Your eyes remain focused on the lady of the house, “the maids are not yet comfortable in their positions, and haven’t been here for more than a day. I anticipate their work may be sloppy and mistakes will happen. I don’t wish for them to be punished so early on for these with your daughters in…delicate moods.” 

Lady Dimitrescu ponders your words, her lips puckering as the girls refuse to look away from you, “very well.” She finally says but as the girls start to move again she snaps at them,“do not drink from her now.”

The daughters groan at once before flying away, removing themselves from the main hall. Lady Dimitrescu stands from her seat, she leans over to snuff out her cigarette then leaves the main hall too. You assist the other servants with clearing the dishes from the table, all of them stealing glances at you, and wondering if this will be the last time they see you. Back in the kitchen, the windows are open to let in the cold breeze as one girl stood near it, her skin as pale as the melting snow. 

“Sorina says Lady Daniela was going to kill her. Are they seriously going to kill us? Are all the rumors about this family true?” asks one maid softly, her hands trembling while holding a plate.

You take a deep breath and shift your shoulders,“I don’t know what you’ve heard but know that the ladies will only harm you if you deserve to be harmed. Simply do your chores, don’t screw up, don’t let the ladies catch you slacking, and you’ll be just fine. At the end of this week you all will be required to donate blood and after that the ladies will be far less….hostile.”

“I don’t like needles.” One maid says in the back. 

“Oh, that’s unfortunate. Well it’s either a puncture with a needle or your wrist getting sliced open. Take your pick.” You respond. 

You turn away and grab a quick bite to eat, normally you would eat more but you hate that now you have to eat in front of people again. You munch on the last few bites of your food while walking through the main hall then take the left door into a small hallway leading you to the vineyard. Opening the double doors of the entrance hall that connect to the carriage gate, you notice many of the workers standing by idly. One of them turns to you, their body relaxes but their face holds worry.

“What are you all doing?” You ask, your voice sharp with annoyance. 

“There’s someone in the vineyard.” 

Quickly strutting past them into the vineyard you notice the familiar carriage, and horse standing where they always do. The horse begins huffing at your approach, its breath crystallizing in the morning dew while stamping its hoof against the frozen ground. The double doors of the carriage open, and two legs pop out on the edge and rest where they land. The large, blond man coughs into his hand then takes notice of you and laughs loudly to greet you. The Duke has been nothing but cordial to you but for some reason you refuse to trust him. Maybe it’s the sound of his voice, or how he always knows what’s going on.

“Ah! Y/N. Pleasure to see you still alive. Moving up the ladder aren’t we?” He asks in that curiously annoying voice.

“Hello Duke, what brings you here?” You ask with a cold tone and narrowed eyes.

“Oh you know. I go where the call of trading takes me.” He chuckles.

“Mhm. Well the Lady has new workers for the season. Please treat them respectfully and let them do their work in peace. I don’t need you distracting them.”

“Oh you hurt me so. I would never dream of disrespecting anyone under the House Dimitrescu.” The Duke chuckles again. 

Your face remains neutral, your eyes relax of their suspicion but you know he’s going to distract the workers regardless. ‘He can’t help himself.’ As he always says. You return to the huddle of women, their bodies relaxing at the sight of you and awaiting your verdict. 

“He goes by The Duke. Do not be distracted by him, no matter how much he tries to get you to engage. The ground is still too cold for proper work to be done in the vineyard, so please gather your materials and work on the courtyard and surrounding exterior today.”

The girls nod before slowly pouring out the walkway they had previously been hiding in, each eyeing the mysterious man one by one who basks in the attention. You leave and walk through the endless halls, eventually making your way back to the maiden’s quarters to gather the cleaning supplies. Only when you get there, you find that your usual cleaning supplies are gone, which means the rest of the staff has moved on from the kitchen and onto their other chores. You’re grateful that they have moved onto their duties so diligently, but also a little irritated that your routine has been disrupted. You huff as you remove your outer jacket and hang it up on the hook next to the closet door then roll your sleeves up to the elbow.

With a mop, broom, and two buckets in your arms, you make your way to the first main hallway when a sudden influx of buzzing greets you. Insects crowd around you and blackness swallows you until you’re pushed forcefully into a nearby wall; the painting near you shaking from the impact. The sudden change involuntarily makes you drop your equipment, and compels a little grunt from you. The black pack takes the form of Lady Bela. Standing only inches taller than you she bends her head to meet your neck with her right hand planting one of your arms against the wall, and her other hand firmly on your chest. Your free hand grabs at hers, wrapping your hand around her wrist only makes her dig her fingertips into your chest harder. Lady Bela inhales and exhales deeply, taking in every morsel of you as her eyes scan your neck with hunger. 

“I need blood. Warm, wet, bright red blood.” She growls softly, her mouth so dangerously close to your neck you can feel her breath.  

A smirk crawls over her face, the veins under your skin visibly pulsating, “nervous are we?” She giggles, “I’ll be gentle” she whispers as her teeth sink into the base of your neck. 

You yelp in surprise and pain. A deep, guttural growl rumbles in her throat, drinking the blood that pumps onto her tongue. She drinks until your head begins to throb and she lifts her head away, licking the blood from her lips. Both of your eyes met each other, hers are no longer full of blood lust, instead they seem content, glowing even. She releases her pressure off your chest and your arm as she moves away from you, the features on her face soften. 

“You taste pretty good, little one.” She compliments.

“Uh, thank you.” You reply as your hand covers the still bleeding neck wound.

 A scream from the other side of the door leading back to the main hall captures Lady Bela’s attention. Both of you look as Lady Bela pushes the door open to see a maid running down the stairs, with Lady Cassandra and Lady Daniela following. Both of them snickering as they chase the maid, sickles in hand but no blood on the blades, purely scare tactics. 

“Good. The more scared you are, the thicker the blood.” Lady Cassandra laughs.

“Poor thing. Nowhere to run?” Lady Daniela sings. 

Lady Bela returns her gaze to you, she takes a black handkerchief from her dress pocket and slaps your hand away then ties the handkerchief around your neck. She winks at you and glides away to join her sisters in the chase of tormenting the new maids. 

You sigh heavily to recompose yourself, a lingering pain still on your chest and arm from where she had held you. All the girls at one time or another have harassed you in an attempt to make you flee or scared, but none of them have been that close to you before. You can’t help but reminisce on the details of her face in your mind; the permanent red hue on the lower half of her face, the intricate details of her forehead symbol, her perfect crimson lips, and how her eyes glowed after feeding. You reach up and brush your fingers along the handkerchief briefly, the fabric feels the same as the daughter’s cloaks and gives you an odd sense of security. 

The screaming has now subsided, meaning the ladies have chased the maid far enough away that you can no longer hear, or they broke their promise to their mother. You’ll have to handle it either way. Readjusting yourself, you pick up your equipment and continue to the first room which happens to belong to Lady Bela. The walls are red and hold intricate gold designs similar to the rest of the castle, art is hanging on the walls; some of them are her own while others are pieces you can only imagine cost more than you’ll ever see in your life. It was surprisingly tidy and clean, but there is always something to do. You pull the large, thick curtains back to let in the light then take a bucket to be filled with hot water from Lady Bela’s personal bath. Using a rag from the other bucket, you scrub the windows clean, check that the locks are secure then fix the bedding and work on the floors. When the main bedroom is clean, the bathroom comes next which is also tidy, making your job in there quick. Lady Bela is always meticulous with her things, her entire room is alphabetically organized from her collection of bones to her bath products. Both rooms are done, you place the cleaning equipment on the outside of the room and return it to its former state by pulling the curtains close, shadowing the room in darkness. 

More screams bounce through the halls with the giggles of the sisters following after. A faint smile twitches on your lips, the sound combating the silence that has cursed the halls in the previous weeks is almost nice. Your pace quickens knowing they will grow bored and hungry, and you’re unsure if they will be able to withstand the temptation of a fresh kill. Lady Cassandra’s room is the complete opposite of Lady Bela’s. The walls no longer hold a solid color but guessing from the tinted, brown they might have been yellow at one point. They’re decorated with various objects of torture, the floors are sticky, and her boredom shows clearly in the destruction thrown about. Her bathroom isn’t any better as it’s stained from the various sessions of torture she has conducted in there. 

You groan softly at the amount of time you’re going to spend on her bedroom alone. It takes you an hour alone just to scrub her floors clean, and because you’re an overachiever, you clean her torture devices and hang them back up. Who knows how long has passed, the clock inside her room is destroyed and you can’t hear any other chimes. However, the cleaning is finally done, and sweat rolls from your forehead to your eyes and you have to wipe it away with the back of your raw hand. Your shoulders and back ache, and you groan again with realization that you have one more room to go. Hopefully Lady Daniela’s room isn’t as bad. One perk to being the last maid was you got to skimp on some duties, this being one of them. That is now backfiring on you in the worst way.

Arching back with your hands on your waist, your back creates a crescendo of pops and you moan breathlessly with relief. You are so caught up in the relief that you miss the humming mass sneaking up on you.

“Mm now that’s a sound I’d like to hear more often.” Lady Cassandra teases. 

You startle and flip around to face her, she gives you a toothy grin and licks her teeth with her tongue.

“I can’t hold back any longer. Don’t move now.” 

Her movement is swift, grabbing ahold of your wrist before sinking her teeth into the tissue. You curse in pain and instinctively try to push her away only to be blocked by her gloved hand, her eyes close as she savors her meal. Her grip on your wrist tightens and you know she wants to keep drinking but she unlatches anyways with a muffled moan. She runs her tongue over the bite wound and you shiver from the sensation, goosebumps blanket your skin and cause the bite wound to throb. Lady Cassandra examines the wound until she hums approvingly when it stops bleeding.

“Hmm. I guess I should hold back a little bit. Don’t want our favorite servant to go bad. Do we?”

“Uh..no ma’am.” You respond softly, attempting to calm your voice.

As quickly as she appeared, she left without another sound, the only indication she was here at all being the proof on your arm. Did she say favorite? You shake your head and remove the handkerchief Lady Bela gave you to wrap around your arm to cover it until you can properly treat it. One more sister, one more chamber, and then you can tend to the wounds but now you’re greatly regretting not eating a proper breakfast. 

The library is the furthest to reach, having to cross the courtyard and go through the Opera Hall with even more stairs. Your hot breath forms and disappears in front of you with each pant, the cold is soothing against your burning body but makes the exposed neck bite sting. The warmth of the Opera Hall engulfs you and shocks your body from the instant change of temperature. 

Lady Daniela’s room is inside the library, her door is off to the side and hidden behind bookshelves making it easy to miss. On your first day it took you forever to find and only did find it because you knocked a stack of books over. It doesn’t take long after you enter and settle your tools down before you are ambushed with insects crawling over your body and flying off into a mass in front of you. Lady Daniela’s eyes examine you over, a pout forming on her black lips as she lifts her nose to inhale you. 

“My sisters always make me go last. That’s not fair.”

She takes both of your hands, pulling you forward out of her room to the middle of the library, revealing her fiery auburn hair in the dim glow of the light casting down from above. One of her hands releases yours, and places it over your cheek with her thumb rubbing over the cheek bone. The touch is inviting, soft, and bordering on loving. You don’t understand the overwhelming urge to sink into her touch, but it takes everything in you not to do that.

“Let’s have some fun. You owe me afterall.” She kisses your other cheek before disappearing. 

The rising blush becomes evident with the removal of her hand, leaving you to stand in the middle of the library by yourself. You look around, behind you, next to you, seeing shadows just out of the corner of your eyes as laughter at your confusion erupts in the space. Going along with her game you begin pacing around each bookshelf, your head on a swivel in any attempt to catch a glimpse of her. The anticipation makes your face feel hot, feeling the previous bite marks beat in sync with your heart beat.

“Are you blushing? Just for me?”

Arms snake around your waist as a frigid yet welcoming body presses against your back, with Lady Daniela’s head resting on your shoulder. Her hands trail over your vest grabbing the top of it, and squeezing you into her as her breath seeps through the thin fabric of your collared shirt and over your collar bone. Another shiver makes your body tremble, as you feel your tie and the top few buttons of your shirt come undone. 

“I’ll enjoy every last drop.” She whispers into your ear.

Her head moves from your shoulder, being replaced by a hand that sweeps around your shoulder blade to the back of your shirt, yanking it back forcefully and exposing your skin. The jolting movement compels your head to lean against your opposite shoulder and fall back into her, giving Lady Daniela more access to your neck and shoulder.

“What a good little one.”

Lady Daniela plunges her teeth into your shoulder, you lurch forward only to be pulled back by her other hand gripping your hair. You clench your jaw to hold in your scream of pain and shut your eyes so tight you can see stars. She moans as your blood fills her yearning mouth, her tongue lapping up every droplet that leaks out. Heat encompasses your entire body, making your skin flush, if your body becomes any hotter, steam will be forming around you. The room starts to spin, your vision is getting blurry, and your upper body feels heavier than normal.

“L-Lady..” You grunt softly. 

Her hand unclamps your hair and covers your mouth, her teeth sinking deeper into your skin to produce more blood. Your hands paw at her own, tugging with the remnants of strength in you while your vision continues to go in and out of focus. With a last moan she lets go of your neck and places a kiss, leaving a perfect black print of her lips. You drop to your hands and knees, closing your eyes to stop the spinning and tensing everything in your body to keep your composure. When the feeling fades away, you open your eyes to see a black dress in front of you, it shifts as a cold hand grips under your arm to help you up.

“Skip my room, I don’t want my organized mess to be disturbed.” She says. 

“But-” You start to object.

“Skip it.” She orders.

“Yes ma’am.” You answer.

The clock chimes to indicate it is time to start dinner prep, you sigh defeatedly because that means it took you all day to clean three, no two, rooms. You decide to take Lady Daniela’s advice and leave her room for another time. After a few moments, and a few tumbles trying to walk, you collect your cleaning supplies and make your way back to the supply closet. When passing other maidens, their looks turn to that of confusion and curiosity, even a sprinkle of disgust with your disheveled appearance. Once the cleaning utensils are returned to their proper place, you grab your black jacket and fix your appearance to the best of your ability. You button up your shirt, tighten your tie, and brush your fingers through the short locks on your head in an attempt to fix it. 

Afterwards you go into the kitchen and walk the staff through dinner prep; similar to breakfast only with wine served instead of tea. They only need help with preparing their own dinner, you find a recipe book but the ingredients in the kitchen are sparse. You’ll have to ask The Duke for supplies considering Lady Dimitrescu doesn’t let any maids wander to the village. Lady Dimitrescu’s voice calls for you in the middle of chopping, you remove the apron and hand it off to another maid to take over. 

Lady Dimitrescu stands in the Hall of Four, she is facing the closing door that leads to the Tower of Worship and only turns to face you when it is locked shut. Your eyebrow raises in curiosity, with a slight tilt of your head speculating on what she was doing considering you’ve never seen her go out there before. She walks up the steps, and you correct your stand as she takes a seat in her chair, lighting a cigarette in her holder and taking a breath first.

“How did today go?” She asks.

Giggling interrupts your response as a large black cloud floats down the stairwell to the Lady, separating into three distinct masses that soon become the daughters. The fire highlights their bodies, showing that their faces hold more color and their bodies are less gaunt than before. All three of them are smiling widely, obviously much happier than they have been in the past few weeks.

“Today was amazing, mother.” Lady Daniela beams. 

"Pleasant indeed." Lady Cassandra agrees.

Lady Dimitrescu angles her gaze over her shoulder back toward you, “I see my daughters have fed.”

“From me.” You answer quickly.

“We didn’t kill anyone, mother. Just like we promised.” Lady Cassandra says looking up at her mother.

Lady Dimitrescu takes another inhale of her cigarette, blowing it out into the open space above her head, “I’m proud of you girls.”

The three daughters sit down smiling even wider in time for the maids to bring out dinner for the family. This time the daughters pay little to no mind to being served, however their glances catch your own staring, Lady Daniela and Lady Cassandra in your direct line of sight while Lady Bela has her head turned to face you. A wink comes from Lady Daniela, a toothy smile accompanied by a lip lick from Lady Cassandra, and a hungry smirk from Lady Bela. You gulp with your cheeks flushing pink, then decide to avoid their stares by looking at the floor directly in front of you.

“Now Y/N, continue on with your report.” Lady Dimitrescu orders.

“Everything went as well as it could today, my lady. I haven’t heard of any of the maids being harmed or injured today nor any mistakes being made. I will do a final check-in, and a full inspection of their work before I retire for the evening.”

“Very good Y/N. Not only did you do your chores but you allowed my daughters to feed from you. I am impressed. That is no easy feat. Do not bother with inspecting their work tonight, I can hear in your voice that you are exhausted. I will grant you this week to solely focus on training the new staff, and prepping for their donations.” 

“Thank you ma’am.” You bow low in order to hide your smile before dropping it. 

“Anything else I need to know?” She asks.

“Uh yes actually. The kitchen needs more groceries, I was hoping to put in a request with The Duke for anything he might have in stock.”

“So be it. I will leave a bag of Lei in my chambers that you may use.”

“Thank you.” You say with a hint of surprise.

After dinner and after the ladies leave for their respective chambers, you return to the kitchen with the rest of the staff and your eyes scan over the sideways glances from the other maidens. The only sound inside the kitchen is your steps against the stone as you approach the first aid cabinet with a rag and a bottle of green liquid inside. You grab both and lean against the counter for support as you feel every pair of eyes burning into your back.

“Was anyone hurt today?” You whisper quietly.

“Not physically.” One of the maids answers.

You reciprocate the answer with a nod, letting the silence stew.

"Are you going to join us for dinner?" Another maid asks cautiously.

"No. Enjoy your meal ladies. I’ll see you all in the morning." 

Without another word you leave for your own chambers, this time keeping your eyes on the ground. It’s too late to wash this uniform tonight, and your other is still dirty, you sigh to yourself at the conclusion that you’ll either need to wash a uniform or wear a dirty one tomorrow. Everything hurts and your energy is below zero so, dirty uniform it is. When in the comfort of your own room, you lean against the door and unleash all the pent up tears you have been holding back, letting them run down your cheeks. You muffle your sobs with your uninjured arm, hyperventilating until you feel satisfied enough to wipe your tears and take a deep, shaky breath. You slowly loosen your tie, taking care to not move your body too fast, and letting it fall to the floor, not bothering with hanging it up properly. Next the buttons of your vest and shirt, carefully slipping each one through their loops until both were completely open. With a shake of your shoulders, the vest slips down to your hands, and onto the floor as well.

You begin to remove the button up, biting your bottom lip and flinching from the sharp pain. The last piece of clothing you remove is the handkerchief around your arm, wincing as the scab peels away with the fabric. You sigh and look at yourself in the full body mirror adjacent to the closet, turning around to view the three bite marks.

Continue Reading

[ask-the-druggieverse]

Pinned Post / Introduction

👋Hello!! Welcome to my MAU (Multiverse AU), like my other MAU this is an Undertale Multiverse AU where instead of everyone killing each other or having issues they instead all get fucking high off their asses either occasionally or forever *cough* Error & Ink *cough*

(Click/Tap on dividers for post credits!)

(Click/Tap read more for more info) | (Click/Tap here for update log) | (TW/CW's)

Background of blog

My name's Inkyu (or Ink), I created this blog after seeing a certain Error-esc ask blog on tumblr and it being a "what if" situation and I thought "what if Error was forever high?" (there's a stupid ass shit backstory I made for it too) and then it snowballed from there, I do have an ending and certain events planned out for the ask blog but majority of the story and what happens in between the events all depend on your asks!

Please be patient with your asks! I go from oldest to newest and sometimes do multiple posts to avoid hiatus's, There will be character ask hiatus's in case I need to work on something for them or they're out of commission, but overall I'll try not to go on a story blog hiatus, so hopefully I won't have to.

Rules For Asks / Character Conditions!

There's no blacklist for asks, although there is one person I don't want interacting with me (you know who you are.) so I won't list one, but if there are askers being dick heads or.... w e i r d I will turn anon off.

You can also ask pretty much anything really even asking relationship status, I also don't care if you spam ask but just know that if you do that I'll only answer a few and move onto other asks and then come back

TBA? (we'll see...)

❌No Pro/Com/Darkship Asks. (Immediate block/If constant on anon I'm switching anon off) (Also DNI please if you're any of these, thank you ^_^;)

❌I'm not doing OC asks, however if you want to you may occasionally ask for how Ink views your OC (Ink has this silly ability to like view everyone as different stuff (I forgot how he see's Dream.... whoops))

- You can also ask to have your OC in a BG if you want!! IDM!!! (although no guarantee)

Character Conditions!

Sober

🌟Dream

🌟Swap (Recovering)

🌟Bill (Enabler)

🌟Lust (Recovering) (Takes anti-depressions)

Unsober/High/Drunk

🌙 Nightmare (Opioids / Pain Killers)

🌙Horror (Pot and maybe some more)

🌙Error (Forever weed brownie)

🌙Ink (Forever weed paint)

It's complicated...

🪐Dance (Lust helps him with his drinking problem, however sometimes he relapses)

Also Outer isn't really a main character here but for shiggles Outer does galaxy gas, if you wanna ask about him go ahead but just know that he isn't a major character and I don't have a lot planned for him :P

Doesn't abuse drugs/Sober

☀️Geno (Pain Killers)

☀️Fresh (Edibles or... idk just whatever (no injections, he refuses to do injections))

☀️Reaper (Honestly it's just whatever)

☀️Dust (Pot, it keeps him calm when he starts seeing shit)

Character Credits!

Ink (Comyet) | Geno, Error & Fresh (Lover Of Piggies/Crayon Queen) | Reaper (Renrink) | Lust (AU Community) | Dance (Teandstars / Sterrenschijnsel) | Nightmare & Dream (Joku) | Horror (Sour-Apple-Studios) | Dust/Murder (Ask-Dusttale) | Killer (rahafwabas) | Bill (AU Community) | Swap (AU Community)

Main Blog / My stuff

@inkyu (Main Blog)

I'm queer (Bi, AroAce, Poly(?), and one more thing that I'd rather not share out) and I don't really use any pronouns however if for whatever reason you cannot do that/English isn't your strong suit and you have to use pronouns I.E He/Him or She/Her or They/Them then I'll understand, You can pick whatever. But I'd prefer not being referred to thank you <3

I also use tone indictors like this (jokeing) (serious) (silly) because /j /s and etc etc are hard for me to understand/remember (I am not going to continuously look something up then forget it later(I have shit memory when it comes to something I don't care about)) (except for /j i understand that well because of those /j spongebob memes I find funny), So I would appreciate it if you use it like I do (or not, just be warned your answer might not correspond with your OG tone)

(you can also use TT's like this too /jokeing, /serious instead of the ()'s if you like using the /'s ^w^)

I also don't care if you tag any post as a ship as long as it's not a proship-esc or anything revolving around it. If you do it's an instant block, I have a horrible history with proshippers and I would rather ya'll not interact if you are one (that includes profics). (Not Threatening / Serious) ((and also cuz I find proshipping gross which also adds to horrible history))

[danganronpasurvivoraskblog]

And with Dangancember starting I have to say two things, firstly happy birthday Mod. I kinda feel for the people who are born in December since due to Christmas, I feel a lot of their birthday gifts are held off until Christmas. Source: Family members of mine who are also born in December.

And now we get to 2-3, widely considered one of the worst canon cases in the franchise. This has been debated, analysised and deconstructed by many for almost a decade now, with many wild takes. You cover the main points why people hate this chapter; the Despair Disease being kinda BS, the lack of character agency, Hiyoko being overlooked and the Mikan plot hole. However I do want to inject my own insight and some stuff that others have talked about.

Firstly the whole "Hiyoko was meant to be a survivor and Fuyuhiko was a Chapter 3 death but it got changed at the last minute because Kodaka felt it would make Peko's sacrifice hollow" is actually a complete lie. This was never said by the developers and it was a false rumour that started on a South Korean forum with no source behind it. Its probably the biggest misconceptionn the Danganronpa fanbase has as a large chunk of it, including me at one point, used to believe it.

I do think Ibuki needed to die in Chapter 3 because of the whole "Shoo Out The Clowns" the trope where as things get more serious, the more comedic and light-hearted characters would either get more solumn moments or just be killed off entirely to make way for the future plot points. And since Ibuki was the main source of happiness on Jabberwock Island, she needed to be killed off. But I do think Hiyoko should have survived past Chapter 3 because her development was more of a slow burner when compared to Fuyuhiko who does a complete 180 on his personality. It would be interesting to see how she reacts to Mikan being the culprit, the Funhouse and learning she has a growth spurt.

So if we can't shake off the whole double killers, then who takes Hiyoko's place? A lot of people suggest Sonia under the logic she doesn't do anything in the plot, and her death would turbocharge Kazuichi's and Gundham's character development. Heck you wouldn't even need to change the plot all that much, just have Sonia go to get the mirror from the Music Venue to help Hiyoko tie her Kimono on. But this never sat right with me as it sounds a lot like fridging. So my logic has been to have Kazuichi killed off as like Sonia he also really doesn't do anything post Chapter 3, the best I can think of is him coming up the plan to catch Nagito in Chapter 5 but someone else could have also done that easily, such as Fuyuhiko or Hiyoko for example. But my main reason is that the DR2 survivors all have in common the theme of loss. Fuyuhiko lost Peko his childhood friend and someone he was developing feelings for, Sonia lost Gundham a person who she felt understood her as a indivivual, Akane lost Nekomaru her coach and the one who taught her to be the best she can be, and while everyone was devestated by Chiaki's loss, Hajime was the most effected by it as she was always by him no matter what. And what about Kazuichi? He...needs to learn to stop being a coward...doesn't really have the same ring to it. But if Hiyoko was there then she would have lost Mahiru, the one person who tried to understand her and teach her that not everyone on the island is out to get her.

Regarding the Despair Disease while I haven't really gotten into Instagram Fanganronpas, I have heard that Ronpa and Friends, the Mickey Mouse Fanganronpa brings back the Despair Disease for its Chapter 3, but its done in a better way since rather then be a random virus, its discovered it was caused by auditory hypnotic mind control caused by the morning announcement. And rather then radically change people's personalities, like real life hypnosis, it removes any filters the victims have so they are behaving what they truly are deep down, and nothing they do is against their moral code. Honestly if the canonical Despair Disease was like that, then it would be very interesting as aside from the fact having it being a auditory hypnosis makes this way more believable to the player, and also how Monokuma can turn it off so easily, but it means that nothing the characters do is something they wouldn't do as its who they truly are deep down.

I also see it as foreshadowing for the purpose of the Killing Game since this is when the motives become far less fair and more about just making sure bodies drop as AI Junko's motive is to have everyone killed off so she can possess their bodies. As such this shift from temptations to things to guarantee deaths, is more hinting towards that. And the plot hole could easily be patched up if Chiaki was still sleepy and Hajime had to really search for other people to wake up so they could go to the music venure or heck make it so it takes longer to get from the motels to the music venures. Both of those fixes would stop people from questioning how tf Mikan was able to do this. Or maybe have a scene in Chapter 3 where its revealed Mikan's clumsy behaviour is just a act she puts on to make people notice her and in reality she is a lot more nimble then others think.

Any of those changes could have resolved the plot hole. And also don't have it so Mikan just outright spells out critical information which just makes her look even more sus. Yes I'm talking about the Monomi bag there, that was a really dumb move on Mikan's part. As I do believe Mikan going crazy was a reason why LINUJ was thinking of making Kanata into a psycho originally, to hark back to Mikan before he had a change of heart and made her wholesome. And I am forever grateful for that.

Another issue with the Monokuma Theater play? It was completely forgetable as before you brought it up, I completely forgot this was a thing in the chapter which shows how little of a impact it has overall to the case in general. Even if it was a red herring, at least make it so Mikan was trying to throw people off with it and not be something completely pointless.

There's a reason we talk about Chapter 3 syndrome in Danganronpa games because like Ace Attorney, its normally where the plot is at its weakest. And even the "best" Chapter 3, which its really obvious what that is since we have covered all the others, has its own issues.

And lastly Mikan's execution sucks balls. Like...what on earth was going on there? It had no reference to her talent, it had no reference to her personality, it was just the most wtf thing I have seen. At least if you are gonna do a execution, make it so it actually fits the character in question. I'm actually surprised you didn't touch on the execution in all fairness, but let's face it, among the many things wrong with 2-3, Bye Bye Ouchies is the least of your worries.

Its not a case where you scream at the game on why it exists like the Dishonourable Mentions, but its still a very, very weak chapter, which did require some more fine tuning and cooking in the oven before it came out. Its all well and good setting up for future plot points but you need to have it make sense in the actual narrative at the time.

The good news is that we start at the bottom so things only get better from here.

//Okay, so here's my breakdown of all of this.

//First off: Thank you for the bitthday wishes. And yeah, it is a bummer, but as I've gotten older, it doesn't really bother me anymore. 22 years of living on this earth and I fail to really get excited or in a celebratory mood about my birthday. It's fine though.

//Second, in regard to the misinformation about Fuyuhiko and Hiyoko, thanks for clearing that up for me. Honestly, I'm learning a lot more about the Danganronpa series lately that I didn't know before now. Guess this is just part of it, but thanks for the clarification.

//However, for my third point, what I'm about to say might sound a little bit indelicate. About the Shoo Out The Clowns trope being the reason why Ibuki had to be killed.

//I'm sorry, but that's complete bullshit.

//And it's proven as such to me by your very own analysis here on how Hiyoko should have been a survivor.

//Danganronpa 2's surviving group consists of Hajime, Akane, Fuyuhiko, Sonia, and Kazuichi. And THREE of those five characters primarily fit into the cast as COMIC RELIEF characters. All different forms of it, but the point stands.

//And okay, even not counting Sonia, Akane, and Kazuichi, look at the surviving group of Danganronpa 1. Two of the characters that survived that game were Hiro, and Toko, who is also Genocide Jack. You know, the two most stupid and bonkers characters in that game?

//Killing off Ibuki with the excuse that she would ruin the tense atmosphere of the final few trials is complete and utter nonsense because other comic characters made it to the end of the game in all three mainline Danganronpa games, and did their usual BS in those trials, and yet it didn't affect my overall mood of the trial, or the mystery, or the emotions that were felt.

//Also, in regards to how Hiyoko's development was more of a slow burn, while Fuyuhiko's was a very sudden 180; while I do agree with that, I think it does ultimately make sense that Fuyuhiko had his sudden turnaround.

//With them both being bratty half-pints that come from influential families, Hiyoko and Fuyuhiko do actually have a lot in common beyond being the characters who (almost, in Hiyoko's case) develop post-Chapter 2. The difference however is that Hiyoko is ride-or-die on her bullshit, and has been raised in an environment where she thinks its okay to treat herself like she's better than everyone, wheras Fuyuhiko has clearly never vibed with that idea, is far more honorable than he initially comes across, and only acts tough because he's afraid to let his family down, or come across as weak to Peko.

//And sure. These ideas that you have could maybe have made the trial and the game more interesting. Allowing Hiyoko to survive while someone like Sonia or Kazuichi, who had less impact on the story in the end, to take her place as the victim might have been better. Also, the idea that Kazuichi could be replaced by Hiyoko as a survivor because she, like the others, was carrying someone's will. ALSO, the idea that Hajime's attempt to get help could have been dragged out to fix the plothole.

//But you're missing the point. These are what COULD have happened, not what ACTUALLY happened. THIS is what actually happened, and it sucks. We can talk about what could have happened all the live long day, but the fact is this is what we've got, and this is what we'll always have.

//As a couple of side notes as part of this paragraph, I haven't actually seen Ronpa and Friends, but I have several accounts from people who have seen it, and all of them think it's one of the best Fanganronpa's ever. I fully believe that, because Penguinronpa was a similarly silly concept, yet ended up being phenomenal, so maybe I'll check it out one day myself.

//And also I know we can complain about this later when we get to the Another and Another 2 cases, but goddamnit, WHY, of all characters for LINUJ to base his writing on, does it have to be the CHAPTER 3 culprits!? All three of them suck ass one way or another, and even though Mikan is the best of them in my opinion, they're all so cartoonishly villainous and ridiculously evil that it really takes you out of it.

//But yeah, you don't know how happy I am that Kanata turned out not to be evil like Mikan was.

//And lastly, I'm sorry if I didn't clarify this before, but I'm actually not going to take the executions into account. The executions themselves belong on a seperate list that I've already done. As far as I'm concerned, this list is specifically looking at the cases and the trials, which covers the death, the investigation, and the trial. The executions are just the conclusion at the end of all this stuff, and they do not affect my opinion on the mystery itself, for better or for worse, so I will not be talking about them. Although, I do agree that Mikan's execution is very poor.

//Although this is not universal. I WILL be talking about the executions, but ONLY if they serve a significant importance on the narrative, which usually, they don't. If I can give you an example, Kaito's execution would count as part of the trial for me, because it's very important to the narrative and the sequence of events in Chapter 5 and 6 of V3.

//But yeah, the sad thing is I do want to like this trial, because it has some good stuff that I feel goes overlooked, and Mikan is LEAGUES better a killer than Kiyo is.

//But the notion that this trial is just poorly structured and has so many bad logistics is unfortunately super fair.

-Mod

[technicbread]

Update to my second first post on here, I still hate mosquitoes and so far I seem to be on a solo extermination mission to purge them of life, I fully understand that they are needed for most ecosystems but then let the world die (not serious of course).

On an actual note, why don't we bioengineer a mosquito that doesn't have the thingy that gives us bumps, like I understand that they inject said thing to keep the blood from clotting, but there must be some other way, and also that annoying buzz sound they make, it's so annoying and I'd very much love it of they were quiet.

Quite honestly, I'd willingly give up blood if it did nothing to affect me, like I can deal with losing at max a cup of blood to fill the stomach or whatever of a few mosquitos, I wouldn't mind in the slightest, the sting would probably be annoying but you can barely feel it, and if you don't think about it you won't even notice it