#i never used to believe it but it does get better

[all-the-bats-in-the-world]

Since someone tagged it with Logan, here it's. And I'm sorry.

Kindness Tastes Like Blood

Part 1. Where The Lost Things Meet

The darkness is getting hold of him. It's not something new, it started to reach him when he was little, when dad decided he was a play thing. That disgusting mother fucker. He's very dead now, but Wade still sees it in the back of his mind, fighting back, cutting him into pieces and giving it to some starving street dog. The dogs have always been good to him. They never liked dad, the animals know what is kind.

‘You’ll lose’ the darkness says to him, sounding like a voice he should have forgotten. And he is starting to believe it. His world is in danger, everything he cares about will die soon. He thought he could fix it. It seemed very simple, if Logan was dead, he just had to find another one to put in the place. Who would think the Wolverine was the anchor being of Wade's whole world? This is a weak script idea, sure, but also makes sense for Wade, he couldn't imagine anyone else to be this important to him. He remembers it, reading the comics he found in the trash under his bed, hiding it from dad, it was this story of this animalistic man that people tried to control and kill, a man that kept coming back and destroying everything on his way, it was this story that made him company, that made him believe someday he would be free. So, yes, he doesn't need to say he loves the Wolverine, does he? He loves him a great deal.

But the thing is, it's not reciprocated. He knows. He jumps through realities trying to find help, but he doesn't even get the chance to say that he needs him, that he's breaking, that he's desperate, they just punch him, kill him, and this is starting to pile up. ‘Nobody loves you’ the darkness decree. He knows it's not totally true, he knows people love him, Althea, Peter, Vanessa, she said it. He believes her. However, he believes love feels different, that love is not just someone who holds your hand in the bad days or puts up with you. He knows he should be glad, why is he not glad? Was what she offered not enough?

Yes. It wasn't. He knows it should be. Another punch. He's bleeding again. They used to be perfect for each other, but this was before he became a walking wound. Not, he was always like this, except now he can't just pretend anymore, he can't just joke it away. He tried, he really fucking tried. She said to him to show that he cared for something bigger than him. But everything is bigger than him, he's small. Insignificant. You see, this wasn't how love was supposed to be. Well, Wade believes love is understanding. He may be wrong.

‘Nobody will ever understand you, you are unlovable.’ He's covered in blood now, still feeling the sensation of six claws in his chest, piercing through his cursed heart. And he loses it, he throws the TemPad away in his despair, regretting it the same second, he runs and jumps to take it before it touches the floor, but ends up kicking it with his foot, then he stumbles, falling on his own face. Fuck. He cries, like the pathetic being he is.

That's when the electronic — whatever tecnologic shit it is — starts to oscillate on the floor, and bips bips bips. Did he break it? For fuckers sake! He takes it back. Doesn't look like there was any damage, he taps it, but he can't understand the coordinates on the screen. Is it another planet? Doesn't fuck look like Earth.

Suddenly a portal opens up and Wade stares at it. Something is wrong. This portal, it's not golden, it's dark, like a black hole. He feels like when he was a kid. There's a taste in his mouth, and a smell in his nose. He's dragged back to the past. He shivers, suddenly he's in the cold night, one of his feet chained. It hurts so much, but it’s better if he was outside. That was something he never told anyone. He loved the night, he loved when he got this punishment, he pretended to hate it, so that bastard would use it against him. It was a way he found to escape the molestation. It didn't work all the time, but when it worked he felt glad. Glad is a rare and strange feeling. He shivers in gladness and steps into it.

At first all he can see is profound darkness. He's not even sure his eyes are open at all. Has he gone blind? Then there's breathing, he thinks for a moment it's his own respiration, but it's not, he's not making this deep and painful noise. It's a very dark and heavy breathing that gets close with every step. Then he sees it, a subtle light, its red. Seems weird? He sees the eyes before he sees the being. It’s hard to tell its colors in the distance and in the low light. But they are bright and piercing. And unmoving, like it's not really looking at him. He moves close, and something registers, cutting through him. It's green, he realizes, like a pale forest, like a calm lake, its pupils grow, swallowing him in, in an inescapable stare. He's breathing so hard it creates little clouds in the dense air.

Wade would recognize those eyes anywhere. It's so shocking, he stops, his feet refusing to move before the vision. It's a Wolverine. Well, it seems like the TemPad was not broken, but he guesses he was not supposed to find this one, probably no one was supposed to find him. What paralyzes Wade is not just the eyes, but his appearance. The man is contained, pulled down on his knees, defeated, malnourished, the bones standing out under his skin, hes basically just bones and hair, frankly it's absurd he's still alive, well, regeneration is a fucked up thing sometimes. There is a mask on his face, metallic, it looks very much like a muzzle, and there are bright red lines, hundreds of them, connected to the collar on his neck. He's using the yellow accurate comic costume, but it's all dirty and worn out.

It's clear they left him here to die. But what a terrible way to leave this world, painfully slowly, getting weak and disappearing a little bit every day.

“What the hell happened to you?” He doesn't know this Logan, the others he knew, like just their appearances were a tell. And he still kind of feels bad for not helping the uncanny x-men Logan, but that felt like none of his business. This one though, he speaks to something deep in him. He needs to know what happened to him. There is no reaction to his question, he doubts the man will be able to talk soon, he is too debilitated to even breathe properly.

He opens the TemPad, does a little reprogrammation, why not, it's a canon divergent fic, so he can do whatever. Soon the TemPad works very much like a Pokédex, he even turns it in his direction and gets: Wade Willson, also known as Deadpool in Earth XXX, 48 years old, sagittarius, species human…

Does the TVA control Wikipedia too? Or does the author just think it was funny? Whatever. He turns the advice to Logan. His eyes are still burning on him, it's almost unbearable. The scan starts to work, then it stops showing a glowing ��restricted access”, so Wade has to do some hacker job, it's nothing, soon the information pops on the screen.

Art by Essi Välimäki

[windvexer]

I actually do think that doing magic takes a lot of work and is kinda hard and there aren't very many good shortcuts, and many modern shortcuts actually just amount to leaving out steps, which means you either have to be powerful enough to brute-force it or it fizzles.

Look, I know some people are just much better at magic and witchcraft; anything they do works with little effort, and the lengths some of us have to go to accomplish magic seems bizarre to them. Those people are cool and I wish I was like them but I'm not.

But I also think some of the truth of how to work effective sorcery gets paved over by these "witchcraft has no rules, do anything you want" support posts.

Because A) that is not true, I believe that witchcraft has lots and lots of rules (it's just that nobody else can tell you what they are), and B) I think do anything you want is taken to mean anything you do should work, which is also not true.

I feel like I always see advice given that you don't need to do things (like use physical tools, or cast circles, or whatever). But I never see anyone explaining the techniques and paths of power that are supposed to replace them.

Let's just imagine for a moment that clear quartz really is a universal substitute. Discordians would say that it totally is. So does that mean all you have to do to sub out clear quartz is to just put it on the altar and do the ritual as if it's something else?

Or do you have to do something more?

Do you have to consecrate the stone as being something other than what it is? Do you have to ritually birth it into a new life and baptize it like a baby? Do you have to spend weeks or months honing your technique of focus and beliefs so that you can mentally shift from consensus reality to a personal reality where there is literally no difference between clear quartz and sodalite?

Do you have to raise energies of sodalite and imprint them into the quartz crystal, perhaps working over it for an extended period of time? Do you have to use energy work to tie the clear quartz into Ideal Sodalite so that it becomes like an avatar?

No, you don't have to use physical tools if you don't want to. But that shouldn't be taken to imply that tools are useless or can be replaced in a way that matters by just visualizing that you have them.

A witch spends six months propitiating a tree, ingratiating themselves with the land, offerings and acts of fealty to the tree, a week-long branch harvesting ritual, blood offerings at midnight on a holy day, then another year curing the wood and crafting a wand. Big effort, right?

And you don't need to do that. But if you want that power, what are you going to do instead?

Same with circle-casting. Same with magic on the full moon. No, you don't have to wait until the full moon. You don't have to wait until the moon is in Libra. But there's a really good reason people do those things. So if you want those effects, what actions can replace those effects?

You literally could not do the spell while the full moon is in Libra. That's fine. But then what will bridge the gap? Will you have to raise more energy somewhere else? Include a new aspect? Modify the spell for the moon you can work with?

"You don't have to follow the moon phase for magic" doesn't mean the moon phase is irrelevant and some witches just like to inconvenience themselves for no reason. But it does mean that you can probably adapt your working to overcome the moon being in the inopportune phase.

Every time I talk about how much time, energy, and effort magic can be I feel like someone always replies, "well, it's just not that hard for me! I do what I want with what I have when I need it and it always just works, with very little effort."

Which I think is very great for them, but I also don't think that most people can get results with such low effort.

So anyway my entire point is that I think sometimes the reason people struggle with getting witchcraft to work is because they are operating off of out-of-context soundbites that make it sound like you can just completely cut out some of these foundational concepts of witchcraft.

Maybe you don't have to accomplish those steps in traditional ways. Maybe you don't need all of those steps for every spell you're doing.

But if you've just cut out swaths of steps only because you heard someone say you don't need them (not because of your own experiments working with magic and determining what works best for you), then is there enough left to constitute a functional system of magic?

[boysbeware2]

all the old tptm girl journal entries w the new (if anyone wants to see them again and compare them)

please proceed with caution as many of these could be upsetting to read

disposable girl (jordyn)

(old)

i cant fucking stand this. i try so goddamn hard to make friends, to be attractive to people, to be even somewhat appealing to them etc etc. it never works. i thought it would get better the older i get. thats what i was told. guess what! i was fucking lied to!!! im alwasy left out of EVERYTHING i never get invited to shit and my own friends ignore me all the time. everyone looks at me weird. i cant go in public anymore im so fucking terrified of everyone. nobody fuckinf wants me, man. im so close to doing something stupid i feel so gross and ugly and dumb i should actually just die id be doing everyone a favor LOL

(new)

man, i havent been on here in forever. the internet is kind of dumb. what is there to say? my friend group celebrated our outpatient graduation anniversary the other day, that was pretty nice. we’re all trying to figure out housing stuff, nora’s been helping with that. freyja + mayra + kairi found a place already (how are they so responsible??) and the rest of us are trying to find places near them so we can visit more often. i never expected to have such a big group of friends. if you told me 2 years ago that i’d be living like this, i wouldn’t believe you. it’s still surreal to me. i’m not sure what i did to deserve them. same goes for my girlfriends. i don’t wanna say who just yet, we’re still figuring things out, but i’m just so thankful for them. i feel so lucky to have a second chance at life. i really didn’t believe people when they said it would get better, and then it did. how funny…..

irreverent girl (kairi)

(old)

I do not want God to see me anymore. I do not want anymore eyes on me. This is near unbearable. I have no one to turn to. My mother is in the church. Many of my friends are in the church. They would tell me to find hope through Christ. They would tell me to pray to Him. They would tell me that He will save me. He must not remember He made me, and if He does, He simply does not care. I know this is unbecoming of me, and I don't mean to be dramatic. I am simply depressed, nervous, and I cannot tell what's real and what isn't anymore. I know I'm supposed to hear God speaking to me, but I do not, and I am tired of straining my ears. I just want to see a doctor. I want some kind of tangible solution. I do not want to pray anymore. Praying hurts. I only do it when I am afraid, but I am afraid much of the time. I don't want to be unheard anymore. I do not want to hold out hope for someone who does not act like they're there. I am hurting. I am hurting. I am hurting. Belief is hurting me. The idea of God is hurting me. I need an out. I am hurting.

(new)

When I have a job and money and I can move away from my shitty Mormon parents

splitter girl (tahira)

(old)

theres something so broken in me thats beyond saving. so i dont know why i keep trying to be saved. i meant to kill myself when i was 18. i didnt. all ive wanted to do lately is kill someone or something. i havent. im too much of a pussy to plan anything concrete, no matter how much i hate everyone around me. no matter how much i get off to videos of people dying or how much i love cutting myself i cant actually take action against other people. i am fucking purposeless. i was born from evil and i will always be evil and i cant even live up to that. i hate myself i hate myself i HATE myself and the universe hates me too. i dont know what to fucking do at this point. i talked to one of my friends about wantingto die and they said smthn about hospitalizing myself. maybe. i dunno. i dont know what else there is for me/. my eyes are fucking burning from lookign at my computer for so long adn not getting any goddamn sleep. i am not a good person. i dont think i can be helped but i just dont wanna fucking keep goign to school and being around people and pretending like everything is norma;l. i cant keep doing it. what the fuck is wrong with me whagt happened. why cant i be loved or feel love for other people when did something change in me that switched the aggression and affection parts of my brain. im hyperventilating ill be back. maybe

(new)

getting myself onigiri from this one good boba place 2nite bc im 8 months clean…… its the little things~ ^^

fainéant girl (freyja)

(old)

i know i dont hate being disabled... i just hate being disabled in a society that makes existing difficult... but sometimes i really just dont want to be disabled anymore. i dont want my family to lecture me about how i could be helping out more, or how i should get a job. i dont want teachers to keep asking me whats wrong or the fuckin uni counselor to try to get me hospitalized. i dont want to be in so much pain anymore, to feel so exhausted that i cant even do so much as prepare food for myself, let alone do anything meaningful or fulfilling. its not fair. i shouldnt have to stay inside and sit in the dark all day,. i should be able to have friends. to talk to people and to go out with them and to feel like i am alive. its lonely and traumatic to suffer through this and on top of that no one around me understands, and they never fully will. i am tired of trying to justify my existence to everyone, to explain the pain that i am in and why i shouldnt have to experience it. i know the problem isnt me. i know i live in a world that isnt built for me. but if the world cant change then sometimes i truly feel that i should just stop living in it. my lifespan is already shorter than everyone else's anyways. what difference does it make

(new)

my qpps didnt seem to appreciate me playing Alien Kids Alien Rap for them. Do they even love me

caliber girl (nora)

(old)

唉～It is 3 AM and I should go to sleep but I can’t. I have a work zoom meeting early in the morning and I gotta hit the gym also because I haven’t done leg day in like… weeks. Oh well, it doesn’t even matter. My value is depleting but I don’t think I care anymore. The turnaround date for my code is also in a couple of days and I haven’t made any progress. I keep getting the same error and I’m too tired to figure out what’s wrong. I might get fired at this rate LOL(笑). If that happens, I think I’ll just consider ending it all. Not that anybody will miss me. God I sound so weak and pathetic right now. When did it get like this. How did it get like this. I’m sure I’ll be fine. I’ve been through worse before and this is nothing. Ugh, why is it so hard to breathe? My chest hurts and I feel like something is wrong but I don’t know how to make it go away. Should I call someone about this? No. No one is awake or around to help. I’ll be fine. I’ll just sleep it off. Shake it off… shake it off…

(new)

My Tamagotchi beeped during a meeting fml

chocolate box girl (morgan)

(old)

i thought i was doing better but i cant stop thinking about them. their touch, their interests, their smile, everything. the worst part is that i miss them, after all of what they've done to me. i was 13. i dont even feel justified calling it rape since our relationship was so muddy... they never yelled at me or was angry at me, they just got so sad when i tried to speak my mind, and got all my friends to hate me when we finally broke up. i never said no so i feel like im insulting actual survivors by feeling violated. i wasnt even trying to get into a relationship with them, it just happened... i feel like everyone around me wants me in the same way they did, even though im an adult now and i dont even try to make myself appealing. i wish i could trust people not to take advantage of me, and i feel disgusting and selfish for feeling like everyone has ulterior motives of getting me to fall in love with them, or worse. that's so self centered of me. i dont know how long i can keep doing this

(new)

girl help i cant stop looking at anime figures on japan yahoo auctions !!!!!

taxidermy girl (mayra)

(old)

I don't remember ever not having a sex drive, is that normal ? I was born and then it was all downhill from there, something happened to me sexually i think, I don't know what happened, because I don't remember much, but something happened and I was beaten for it and yelled at and my mother hated me, and now I am an adult and I try to have sex, and I'm not there mentally, even if my body is participating, I feel like I am in the past again, being beaten and yelled at . I want to keep trying, I want to have fun, to feel safe in someone else's arms, to reach the heights of pleasure, but my mind scares me so much, I haven't been able to eat anything today because I feel so horrified by my body . If I was good I would have been born as a nonsexual being, no parts, no desires, no instincts, a blank slate, too empty to be enjoyed . Do you know what it feels like, to have your mother tell you people want to sexually abuse you when you are a child, and then to be made fun of by your peers for being so ugly, to have your middle school and high school classmates joke about how much they don't want to have sex with you ? I am illicit and undesirable at the same time, I am everyone's last option, I am nothing and still too much, rotting deer meat on the side of the road . I wish I had been born as something beautiful and pure, I wish I could start over, that whatever that initial sin was had never been committed .. I want to start over

(new)

Went to a kink event the other night and everyone was so nice … The low lights were fucking with my vision so one of the hosts helped me navigate the place . I ❤️ you random disabled ally with a pup mask on

chemical girl (joy)

(old)

LMAOOOOO im too angry and miserable to be around. i think i just need to give up at this point because theres clearly like. something broken inside me that cant be fixed. that has 2 be it because i try to talk and i just sound cold, i try to make a joke and it comes out overly edgy and unfunny, i try to be like everyone else but its too much. i cant even be a collection of the positive traits i see in others, i try to replicate it and it comes out warped and wrong. im either fucking enraged or in abject misery or way too happy and nobody can keep up with me. the thing is i dont even blame them. i wouldnt want to be around me either. do u know what thats like? being someone you wouldnt want to know? i keep hoping that one day ill wake up and suddenly be normal, the mood swings will be gone and everyone will like me and i wont do stupid shit that pisses them off. but i know that day isnt coming. theres no hope for me and i want to say sorry to everyone who has ever had the misfortune of knowing me but i know it wouldnt do anything. theres nothing i could ever do to make myself right

(new)

i need to convince my gf to take me to Round One again soon

refraction girl (nataana)

(old)

i don't want to do this anymore. i'm going somewhere better

(new)

talked with my psych and i’ll be starting TMS soon, it’s some thing where they put magnets to ur brain and it’s supposed to treat depression.. trying to temper my expectations bc i’ve tried so many treatments that just do nothing for me, but i’d be lying if i said my hopes weren’t riding on this. i want to confidently say i’m glad to be alive. i feel like i’m getting closer to that

nurse parallel/machine girl (xiomara)

(old)

I am so excited... Tomorrow my experimental outpatient treatment plan begins!!! I'm beyond delighted. I have complicated feelings about my DID being in remission, but it's nice to feel stable enough to be in charge of something this big, and to not have terrible gaps in my memory anymore. I still don't remember everything that happened to me, but maybe I don't need to. At this stage of my life, I feel content. I can confidently say everything was worth it. I want to help others feel that way, too. I think I can.

(new)

I’m meeting up with a new friend tomorrow… I feel nervous, but it’s a good nervousness, I think!

[mixingandmelting]

Winter Series Day 6: Teenage Crush

Summary: how he's in love with you featuring the original Robin trio

A/N: was i emotional when i wrote this? yes, no thanks to remembering jason was the sweetest and cheerful robin at the height of 4' 6" in-canon

Robin!Dick:

Daredevil, gremlin child, and the nightmare of all of Gotham’s villains was what Robin!Dick was known for. But at the end of the day, he’s just a boy that’s completely gone for you. He can’t and doesn’t let you catch a break as he constantly pokes you from starting the silliest arguments to putting on a show of his routines he used to do back in his family’s circus. Not once does he approach you like a normal person. One day he’d be creeping silently behind you, suddenly asking what you’re doing right into your ear while peering over your shoulder. The next, he would simply stand in front of you and wait for you to notice. He pouts when it seems like it’s taking you too long, though he does appreciate getting the time to engrave your form and the other expressions you make when he’s not annoying you. All of this, he does constantly, almost every other day in fact, because in his mind and heart, you are the best thing to ever enter and be in his life. It amplifies his haughtiness, silliness, goofiness, and sass as he does everything in hopes that he could strike a chance with you. So when he comes back from a long mission and you express any indiction of concern and how you missed him, his smile stretches from ear to ear, his heart fluttering from how you care for him. Of course he would probe to hear more, his desire of wanting to hear your thoughts on him but he still manages to stop himself from overdoing it. During the times when you pull an uno-reverse card on him unexpectedly, he gets extremely flustered and flushed from his “impress to woo the other person over” backfiring big time and instead, he’s falling for you all over again.

Robin!Jason:

Despite his height, he’s considered the cheerful and bright one as he steals the hearts of the Titans after a single mission, and makes Batman of all people laugh. Have you in the room and  he lights the whole place from how much he glows. Before heading to you, he sniffs his uniform to make sure it doesn’t smell like cigarettes. If it has the faintest scent of it, he goes back to the cave to change into a new one, doing so even more after learning how second-hand smoking can cause cancer. At some point he gets fed up with sniffing and changing so many times, he starts going through all the tricks to quit smoking even faster. Time to time, he brings something small, making excuses including the classic “saved an old lady crossing the road” on his way as a rose gets placed into your hands. He’s notably chattier and laughing more around you, enjoying whatever the two of you talk about even if it’s mundane and boring. He can’t help it when your passion, laughter, excitement, and smiles are infectious. His love for you is so pure that he’d be satisfied with simply being by your side, his one wish being that he can bring you as much happiness as you do for him. Time to time when you get a burger combo meal, seemingly to believe that’s his favorite based on the one time he mentioned about his memory with it whether it’s to welcome him back from a long while or randomly he gets fuzzy, warm, and the heart palpitations while he shares the meal with you. You make him feel that his life is complete, that he won the whole world which motivates him to become a better person, a “good guy” as they all say, so he can stay with you even if he ends up not being your end game.

Robin!Tim:

He’s known as the smart one as well as the one that sacrificed his chance of normal for the sake of saving Batman and currently, Gotham. You were never part of his plan as he already envisioned how his life as Batman's sidekick would look like but here he is, completely smitten for you as he figures out ahead how to approach you when he catches you hanging out. Image training, standing in front of the mirror and going through his lines and poses until Alfred caught him doing it once. Now he does it after locking his door, double, triple checking he was going to get his little gig right so he can look cool when he appears in front of you. Take the “yapper and listener” meme. That’s his relationship with you where he’s serenaded by your voice and won’t ever get sick of listening to it. If you were to express anything you need or want, he gets it and leaves it where he was standing or sitting with a small note attached. He’s also guilty of abusing his alternative identities and disguises so he could extend his time with you even outside of being Robin. Not that you would ever know as he has no intentions any time soon to out himself. There’s no other reason for him being this extra other than that you are the one that gives him the comfort and relief he needs. You are his solace that makes his self doubt disappear and everything he has done worth it. So when you do any skin ship including the scandalous hand holding, he’s equivalent to the red on his suit and mute from how conscious he gets from feeling you extremely close to him. Also gets him to forget to breathe but that’s not the issue here.

[lyricwritesprose]

So I've known Winter since she was a weird little goth egg who borrowed my jewelry, but she's never asked for my expertise as a large animal veterinarian before. Winter doesn't have large animals. Winter has three cats, brothers, named Sauce, High Fructose Corn Syrup, and Bobby. (Bobby is the ginger one.)

So I wasn't sure what was up when she told me to bring my "hoof stuff" and not to tell anyone, but you know, she's my friend. An hour's drive and a little secrecy is nothing.

She met me at the door and escorted me upstairs and into her bedroom, and there was a demon lying on the bed. Red. Horns. Tail. Winter's grandma's quilt over him. Very confused expression.

"He says he hasn't had hoof care for a long time," Winter explained. "Apparently conditions in Pandemonium kind of suck."

Well, that, at least, was straightforward. "Yeah, I'll take a look at them. You owe me an explanation or five."

"Not really much to explain," Winter said apologetically. "I needed help with biochem."

"There are about ten thousand ways that statement does not lead to this situation."

"Oh, come on, like you've never tried to summon a demon to do your homework."

"No, as a matter of fact, I haven't, because that's academic cheating and as a vet, it could be a life or death matter for me to actually know stuff. Also demons aren't—" You can't exactly say demons aren't real with one watching you. "Necessarily any better at biochem than I am. So you tried some spell and—oh. Ouch. Yeah, that's a gnarly looking hoof, you're going to need some treatment on that. Looks like maybe you haven't been walking around much?" That was to the demon. "Because the edges should wear down if you have proper room to move."

"I don't." His voice was softer than I expected. "What are you going to do to me?"

"Hoof trim," I said, "first of all. Have you had anything to eat? Do you need anything to eat?"

"I ordered door dash from the Indian place half an hour ago," Winter said. "Should be any minute. It's the only decent vegetarian place around here and I really don't want to deal with the whole question of which critters are acceptable to eat across cultural differences, so—yeah. See, the problem is, Asgrvanisaghl has been through a lot since some asshole 'higher demon' put his name in a grimoire, which means that we've got to find a way to block summonings as necessary or at least keep him from getting controlled when they happen."

"I don't do magic," I said, laying out my bag of tools, "I do comfortable hooves. Although, you know, you could call in Shawn. He's got that mythology special interest going on."

"I texted him. He can come by tomorrow but he's doing a thing."

I nodded. "You are probably," I told the demon, "going to have to repeat the name you want me to use for you several times before I get it. I'm not great with pronunciation. Right, so hoof trimming tools probably look different where you're from, but the principles should be the same. This is—"

"Why are you doing this?"

I shrugged. "I mean. We're humans."

"But—no. Humans want great wealth, or they want their rivals removed, or they want the love of the most beautiful woman in the land, or they want—other things—"

"Humans are bastards sometimes and they should not have treated you like that."

He didn't seem to know what to do with that statement.

"But the main thing about humans is that we clump up in groups. You wanna guess what group me and Winter were in, in high school?"

He shook his head wordlessly.

"The group of kids that didn't fit in. Queer, autistic, whatever. And believe me I'm going to call in all of us until we can make sure you're safe."

"But. I'm not one of you."

I shrugged again. "You are now."

The demon collapsed onto your bed. A vacant stare in his eye as he uttered “this is the 10,000th time I’ve been summoned. can we make it easy? Please?”

[mossangelll]

yandere!viktor x reader

machine herald controlling you you to the point of infantilisation⁉️

this is probably on the fringe for a lot of people but the idea of a yandere going to such extremes because they “know what’s best for you” and experiencing such a dehumanising loss of agency scratches an itch for me

tw: forced age regression, uncomfortable dynamics, forced drugging, toxic behaviour

“Do you want the crayons or the storybook, hm?” he holds them up to you in either hand, “Speak up for me. I know my darling can do it.” If you didn’t know any better about him and the horrific things he’s capable of, you would honestly believe the gentle cadence paired with his own unique twang was calming and paternal.

What a sick fuck.

He had that smarmy grin plastered to his face as he watched you in silence, waiting for a response that obviously would never come. After all, he made you a makeshift pacifier that was strapped inside your mouth using soft fabric that also wrapped around your hands. He took your voice and mobility all in one fell swoop and you were helpless against him.

“Aw, poor little thing. You must be tired, eh?” His cold metal hand comes to press against your forehead, thumb easing away the tension etched there.

He hoists you up with ease from where you were sat at your miniature table and carries you over to a large mattress in the corner of your room, what he’s lovingly dubbed your “crib” due to the child-friendly gates surrounding it, and places you amongst the sea of soft plushies and pillows.

He sits down next to you on the edge of the bed and smooths the stray hairs that have come out out your immaculate hair do, one he did for you, of course. He wants to be a reassuring presence for you but as you lay before him, you feel bile rise in your throat.

The frustration continues to well up and your eyes burn with unshed tears until you can’t hold them back anymore and you sob. But even your cries come out muffled and you’re not able to truly express the anguish that rages inside of you, a freedom that is your birthright.

Why, out of everyone, did you end up with this psycho that treats you like a child?

Viktor lets out a soft gasp and immediately crouches down by your side. “Shh darling, everything will be ok. Seeing you like this makes me very upset, you know.” He coos but the wide smile he doesn’t even bother to hide tells a different story.

He leaves you for just a moment, fearful of what kind of accidents you could get into in his absence, he once said. You rolled your eyes at the time, still fighting for your independence with venomous words and sharp rebuttals, and was promptly punished for your disobedience. It wasn’t the first time and definitely won’t the last, but now you’re more accepting of your position with Viktor’s - better to make your life easier by giving into his unusual desires than be punished again and again and again until you finally learn your lesson.

He comes back with a steaming mug of hot chocolate, cooled just enough that it wouldn’t burn your mouth.

He pulls a vial full of a pale yellow liquid out of his pocket and drops two splashes of it into your drunk before giving it a good stir. He does this in plain view of you, knowing that there’s nothing you can do to stop him. Though your untrusting gaze cuts right through him, he continues on not caring about what you think is “moral”. He scoffs at such black and white thinking; you don’t have the knowledge and power he does, so how could you ever care for yourself the way he can?

“Drink up, darling. You’ll feel right as rain in no time.” He doesn’t give you the option of declining as he’s quick to pull out your pacifier and press the mug against your lips, cradling your head forwards so you don’t choke.

The hot chocolate is rich and velvety, smooth and indulgent with a slight edge you’re not quite able to place. Something of his invention, no doubt. Viktor often forbade you from eating too many sweets so this was clearly his way of placating you, baiting you into being on your best behaviour.

It’s unnerving, the way his curious amber eyes stare into yours with no intention of looking away, as if you were a perplexing equation he needed to find the solution to. You were simply something he needed to fix, a small stepping stone that meant nothing in his greater plan to solve humanity’s suffering.

Your head feels cloudy as you slowly fall into a smaller version of yourself, one that’s scared of the dark and cries whenever Viktor leaves.

You hate that he’s reduced you to a shadow of your former self, forcing you to act like a child while you frantically grip onto the disintegrating remnants of your past life. You hate the way your eyes start to flicker as drowsiness engulfs each of your senses - you especially hate feeling like you’re rolling over and simply allowing him do as he pleases, but as much as you wish to protest and scream you’re rendered still by whatever concoction he spiked your drink with.

Either way, he would probably get some depraved enjoyment out of you having a tantrum, since it only goes to prove that you need him to look after you and you’d rather not supply him with more fodder for the fire.

Viktor begins to hum a childhood song from the undercity but when the melody reaches your ears, it’s dampened like your head is submerged deep underwater.

He reaches for your hand which you limply grab onto with what little strength you have left, “There, there, little one. Close your eyes and sleep. You’re safe here.”

And sleep you do.

[sleepyparalysisdmon]

SVT doing your makeup

Requested? Yes!

Request: ‘i love all your svt reactions!! could i request a fun one where svt gets asked to put makeup on their partner? who do you think would take it seriously and do extremely well? who wouldnt even know what half of the items are? i think the members would also find it fun to do hahahah’

Cannot help but do badly - Seungcheol, Jun, Woozi, Vernon

He really does his best when you ask, but he would prefer not to wear much for himself, so he’s not particularly skilled. You can tell that he’s not happy with anything that he does because he’s grimacing, particularly when he gets to the eye makeup, where the finer details matter. But he’d never turn down the opportunity to do something with you, even if he’s totally deflated when he’s done. He’ll sigh deeply and apologize while handing you the mirror. It’s… not great. But it’s cute that he tried. He can’t wait to help you clean it off, though, ready with the makeup remover and face wash. 

Purposefully makes you look like a clown - Jeonghan, DK, Chan

You feel like things are going well until he spends way too much time on the blush. Then you get a glimpse of the colors that he uses on your eyes, and you kind of wonder why you even have them because they don’t compliment you in the least. He’ll slyly grin when he announces that he’s done, presenting you with a mirror. Will absolutely snap a picture before you can stop him, giving you a big smooch on your lips that are painted in a color that does not work for you. When you glare and tell him you regret asking for this, he’ll relent, helping you clean it all off. I’m so sorry; he’ll never delete that picture. He has backups of it. 

Really tries and does decently - Hoshi, Wonwoo, Seungkwan

The epitome of focus. Picture them being inches from your face for the little details, tongue poking out in concentration. Then, he’ll pull back to look at his work and go back to perfect it. He gets the concept of all of the products and figures out how to use them relatively quickly. Does a little bit at a time to not overdo it. He agreed to this because he likes being close to you and spending time with you. But if you look pleasantly surprised by how great he did, he’ll scoff and say that he can’t believe you doubted him. 

Better at it than you could ever be - Joshua, Mingyu, Minghao

Are you kidding? You don’t do your own makeup half the time, anyway. If you grumble about doing it when you guys are getting ready to go out, he’ll sit you on the counter and do it for you from start to finish. If your eye makeup isn’t blending just right or your eyeliner is uneven, he simply takes the brush or the pen from you to help you with it. He does it with such a quick and careful precision that puts your own skills to shame. And throughout the day, if he notices something is smudged, he’ll delicately fix it for you. (As someone who loves the look of makeup but hates putting it on, this would be a dream.)

[yapperblog]

Like it's the last night

Tags: angst, brief mention of a break up, lapdance, oral (m! and fem!receiving), fingering, PinV (unprotected).

Explicit RPF below, don't interact if you are not comfortable with that; +18

Joost turns to see you, his whole body physically relaxing at the sight. In a blink of an eye he is standing next to you, ready to wrap his hands around you, feel the smell of your perfume. Before he gets to move closer, you turn around suddenly.

"We need to break up." your voice is stern.

"What?" he says with a chuckle, thinking he misheard you.

"I am breaking up with you, Joost. We can't keep going like this anymore." your face is without any emotion, he watches you say the harsh words so easily, like it's the most natural thing. But it doesn't make any sense to him.

"Why? What happened?" his heart sinks. Are you pulling a mean joke on him? "I don't understand." he tries to reach out to touch you, but you take a step back, his hand falling limp by his side.

"This is the problem. You never understand. How can you not see that you are pulling me down?" your words feel like a barb wire around his throat. "I deserve so much better." you say and tears start falling down his face, meanwhile you remain so stoic, that he starts to believe you are right.

He tries to speak, but nothing comes out, he watches you go, his legs not moving. He just stays in place, your figure disappearing in the distance.

"Wait!" Joost screams.

He sits up in his bed, face wet with tears. His hand immediately moving to your side of the bed searching for you, but it's empty. The panic sinks in, his brain still hazy.

He puts his face in his hands, finally coming back to his senses, realising it was all a dream. A nightmare even. He checks the time on his phone - 7:10. You left for work already, you are still his girlfriend, you didn't break up with him, he repeats to himself. But the words you said keep ringing in his head. You do deserve better.

He tries to go back to sleep, but it is of no use, self-doubting thoughts are too loud. He wants to hear your voice, needs reassurance, he thinks of calling you, but doesn't want to disturb you at work so early in the morning, so he settles for a quick text.

"Want to grab dinner after work together?"

he types and hits send, staring at the screen, waiting for you to see it and reply. After a few silent minutes, he puts down the phone. You must be busy. There is no point trying to go back to sleep, he decides the shower will help to get rid of the weird thoughts and forget the dream.

While drying off his wet hair with a towel, he checks his phone again to see two notifications:

"Sure! Would love to!"

"Someone is up early. Everything ok?"

Seeing your text brings a smile to his face. He swears you can read his thoughts, you always know when something is on his mind.

"Just a bad dream. I will come pick you up at 4."

All day he couldn't properly focus on any errands he had to run, all tasks left behind half-finished. He switches from one thing to another, in hopes of busying his brain enough, but the thoughts are too loud in his head. Is he doing enough in the relationship? Are you truly happy with him? Is he happy? Does he maintain work and life balance? Work definitely takes up more of his time.

His mind flashes back to seeing your face when he wakes up earlier than you, in those silent moments his heart is full with so much love for you, so many times you caught him laying by your side, brushing your hair softly with his fingers, a smile spreading on his face when you slowly wake up, or on the weekends when you both can lay in, spending sweet time in each others embrace, sinking into the mattress when his hips slot so perfectly between yours, rocking gently, hitting all the spots, that make you moan into his mouth. He thinks about how your fingers feel in his hair, when you've missed each other so much, you can't wait to tear each others clothes off, kissing hungrily, his fingers bound to leave marks how hard he is holding your hips, whispering into your ear, how good you feel around him, how much he loves you, pushing so deep into you, getting drunk on your sweet moans and whimpers.

He starts to feel hot at all the images in his head, he needs to change his trace of thought, before he gets fully hard, as he doesn't have the time to deal with it alone right now. Every corner of the apartment is filled with memories, his eyes catch on a broken off piece of a mug, you accidentally dropped on the floor during your last argument. It seems so stupid now, the spilled tears from the both of you so unnecessary. You talked it out after and found a compromise, hugging each other tight, promising and reassuring everything will be okay. He picks up the piece and throws it out.

He starts to feel claustrophobic surrounded by four walls and decides to go for a walk, fresh air always helps, it is getting close to 4pm anyways.

He walks around the park for a while, drawing while sitting on the bench, then gets an Uber to get to your work. He still arrives an hour early, waits for you to finish up, meanwhile busying himself on the phone.

The weather has dropped down very suddenly that week, the cold air biting your cheeks as you walk out of your office building. Joost is all bundled up in a hoodie, puffy jacket, beanie pulled down low on his forehead and headphones sticking out. He is barely recognisable, but you wouldn't mistake him for anyone else.

"Hii." you call out from a distance. You can't help but smile at him waiting for you, you've been looking forward to seeing him all day.

Your voice immediately draws his attention. A wide smile spreading across his face, as he looks in your direction. If he had a tail, it would be wiggling wildly.

He puts away the headphones and quickly closes the distance between you, wrapping his hands around you, trying not too throw himself at you, but it's so difficult after the day he had, he needs to feel you.

"Hi" he says finally letting go of you just enough to see your face.

"Hi." you say again. He is always excited to see you, like a little puppy jumping at your feet when you come home, but this is different. You almost get worried something happened and he can see it on your face.

"I missed you." he says looking into your eyes and leans in for a kiss, he knows it has to be quick, you are in public. But he can't help it, you answer the kiss just as desperate - you've missed him too, for an average day it felt too long that you haven't seen him. His lips feel as intoxicating as they always do, he squeezes you even tighter to him, wishes you were back home already without the layers of clothes separating you. You put your hands under his jacket seeking his warmth. He can feel your cold hands even through the hoodie underneath.

"Let's get something to eat, ja?" he asks, taking your hands in his, trying to warm them with his breath.

"Let's go. I know a good place nearby." you lead the way.

While eating you tell him about the new drama at work, he listens and tells his own remarks and thoughts about your coworkers and what he would have done. Gossiping with him is always so fun, he is the great rare combo of having a friend, who can give gossip and shopping advice, but also a boyfriend, who cares about you dearly and tends to your needs in bed. When you ask him about his day, you notice the lack of enthusiasm, he still tells you all about it, but there is no usual spark.

"What was your bad dream about?" you ask him suddenly. You can tell you hit the spot, this must be what has been bothering him.

He looks at you, knowing he can't get away with trying to brush it off. There is no reason to really, you are always there for each other. He shouldn't hide it.

"I know it's stupid and just a dream. But we broke up in my dream, and I have been feeling off all day. I'm sorry."

"It's not stupid, Joost." you reach for his hand to try to accentuate your words. "And don't be sorry, I would have felt the same way. Sometimes dreams feel so realistic, I also wake up disturbed." he gives you a weak smile. "I love you." you move closer to hold his cheek. "Is this also about a fight we had?"

"Probably." he replies. He hasn't been in a lot of relationships. He cares about you deeply, has never felt this way about anybody before, sometimes he catches himself thinking he wishes he could be glued to you to spend every breathing moment together and it scares him. If you ever loose feelings for him, he wouldn't know what to do with himself.

"I love you." you say again, seeing he is in his head again. "That's why we bicker, because we care about this" you motion in between you two. "About us. We want this to work and it will."

You can finally see his shoulders relax. He leans in to kiss you, which you gladly accept. "Love you."

In the taxi back home you are stuck in traffic. Before the driver regulated the temperature, the windows started to fog up a little at the sides. In the corner of your eye, you notice him doodling with his finger on the window. You lean closer to him, putting your head on his shoulder, he kisses at your hairline, putting his head on top of yours and continuing to draw. He writes I love you, and intertwines your fingers together on his lap.

Since that conversation with Joost, you've had an idea brewing in your head. It was obvious he needed to relax, a couples massage could work, but there was also something else that wouldn't leave your mind. It is silly and cliche really, but the thought of focusing all attention on him, making him feel good, reminding him you are his and you'd do anything for him, makes not only your heart flutter. Even if it means giving him a lapdance. He never expressed an interest in it directly, but you did notice you manage to pull the loudest most delicious moans from him when you are on top, so this could work.

Joost is in the other room working on his music, through the closed door you could hear him humming a melody and sending voice memos to Tantu from time to time. This gives you time to get ready: you put on a new set of lingerie, which doesn't leave much to imagination, already in anticipation of his face seeing it for the first time, and a short silk robe tied around your waist.

Now it's the waiting game. You decide not to call Joost over, you leave him to finish up and come into the living room on his own terms, so he doesn't have any lingering thoughts of unfinished work and can fully enjoy your surprise.

As you sit on the couch, mentally preparing the dance you will do, quietly laughing at your own imagination, you hear the door open and Joost's slow steps. You quickly throw your phone further down the couch, sitting up straighter trying to look sexy, giddy waiting for him.

Joost walks in, his eyes immediately meeting yours, a wide smirk spreading on his face.

He whistles noticing what you are wearing. "That's a nice outfit." he says coming to see you closer. You try to keep a straight face and not laugh.

He is about to flop down on the couch next to you and wrap his arms around you, but you stop him.

"I've got a surprise for you." you stand up and smile up at him tracing your finger down his chest. He is wearing a t-shirt and sweatpants. He reaches for your waist to pull you closer, but you take his hand instead to lead him towards the chair. You gently push him to sit, which he obediently does and laughs confused.

"Ok, so you sit and relax, ok?" you reach for your phone to turn on the music you picked. As you turn around towards him, you catch him looking at your every move. You want to spoil him rotten, your heart is filled with so much love and it's all for him. He feels the same way, he wants you to have everything and more. He buys you everything you mention even in the passing, which you chastise him for, but he can't help it. He remembers the perfume you liked, knows exactly what pastry to bring you to cheer you up. There is never a moment when there isn't a fresh bouquet of flowers in your house, which he brings for you. He doesn't need a reason for it, you are the reason. He showers you in "I love you"s, he is your biggest hypeman, even your smallest achievements are applauded by his loudest cheers.

You take a step towards him, smiling sweetly at him, making sure to sway your hips to the music.

"Is it my birthday today? Did I loose track of time?" he asks laughing, but you see the way his eyes eat your act up.

"I just want you to have a good time." you walk towards him, he spreads his legs apart to make room for you. As you come to stand in between his legs, he sits up to be closer to you, but you push him back with one finger on his chest. "You work so hard" your voice is low. You start walking around him, tracing your finger from his chest to his shoulder, around his back. He turns his head following you. You start massaging his shoulders, feeling the tension.

"We can pretend it's your birthday, would you like that?" you lean in closer to whisper it in his ear, still working your hands into the tense muscle.

"No, this is good." he replies and you can already tell your plan is working. You kiss him on the cheek and continue walking, placing your hand on the back of his neck. You walk around the chair, his eyes never leaving you for one second. You are now a few steps away from him dancing in tune with the slow music, you move your hands down your body, lifting the hem of the silk robe up just enough to give him a sneak peek at what's underneath.

He sucks in a breath, seeing just a lacy string on your hip, but it already has him worked up at what's to come. "Fuck" he whispers.

You walk slowly towards him, you can't contain a smile when you notice his blown out pupils and the way his chest moves up and down. He has never been a patient man, and you love to test him.

"You look so hot." he says looking up at you, when you come to stand in between his legs again. You sit on top of his legs, facing him. "Yeah, you like it?" you put your arms around his neck, moving closer to him, your legs on each side of his. He puts his arms on your hips, feeling the warmth through the silky material, finally getting to touch you, he lets out a sigh.

Before he can reply, you start placing slow kisses on his cheek, his forehead, his nose. "I missed you" you say in between kisses.

"I missed you too." he says, his voice breathy.

"Tell me about your day." you say when you nudge his jaw with your nose, he rolls his head to the back of chair, giving you more access to his neck. You start placing kisses and little bites, his hands grip your hips harder, moving to your thighs.

"I- um" he finds it hard to focus, when your mouth feels so good and warm on his skin, but this is exactly your plan. "We finished the beat," he continues, while you place a kiss on his pulse point, moving closer to his ear. "for the new song."

"So proud of you. Can't wait to hear it." you say into his ear. A satisfied moan escapes his lips and he squeezes your thighs, feeling the soft plush skin. Little words of praise always work on him. "What else?" you ask as you move to leave open mouth kisses along his throat.

"I am working on the lyrics for-" you giggle against his skin when he can't finish a sentence properly.

"You are evil." he sits up straighter to look into your eyes, wrapping his hand around your lower back to push you closer to him. Teasing him is your favorite game and he lets you do it, knowing the reward is sweeter. You start to circle your hips trying to feel more of him, a smirk spreads on your face when you feel the outline of his already half hard dick through the sweatpants, your clit rubbing on his tip making both of you suck in a breath, but before you can get too far ahead of yourself, you unwrap his hands around you and take a step back.

"Heyy." his voice whiny when you leave him. Your legs are a little wobbly as you stand up, teasing him got you worked up too quickly. But how couldn't it, when he looks so good, all pliant for you, waiting for your every move.

You turn back around to face him, continuing moving to the song, slowly walking your way up to him again. He seems to have gotten back to his senses in the short break you gave him, you can tell by the smile that adorns his face, one dimple you love so much showing, he looks more confident now that he knows what's coming. His legs are still spread, his hard on so obvious against his sweatpants. Hands on the arm rests of the chair, but you know he wants nothing more but to touch you, and you are happy but to give him that.

"You look so great, schat." he watches you sway your hips to the song, your eyes closes, enjoying yourself, letting him ogle, as you move closer and closer to him, letting the anticipation build. "Could have told me earlier you were planning this, I would have wrapped it up with Tantu quicker."

"I didn't want to interrupt your creative process. Who knows what you are up to with your producer." you say giggling. "You already have matching t-shirts, who knows what's next." you come to stand between his legs.

"Oh we get up to all sorts of things. Aligning our beats together, cranking up the tempo, on repeat all night." You roll your eyes and laugh. "Can't create an album without a little bit of love making, don't be jealous." he says looking up at you, smiling proud of his joke.

"You two are my favorite weirdos." you put your hands in his hair and push it back, running your fingers through the strands. He moans in delight, always begging you to scratch his head laying his head on your stomach after a long day.

"Give me your hand." you tell him, which he happily does. You put the tie of the robe in his hand and he gently pulls on it looking into your eyes, untying your silk robe, watching it reveal your body fully to him.

"You are perfect."

You slowly turn, swaying your hips along to the song as you pull off the robe completely, letting it drop to the floor. You place your hands on either side of the armrest, as you lower your ass over his crotch, your back to his chest, hovering and moving side to side, teasing before you finally press down, letting your ass roll over his crotch and thighs.

"Oh fuck, baby. Just like that" he is holding your hips, letting you move on your own, he just wants to feel you.

You circle your hips, feeling him swell underneath you. You can’t resist the grin, happy at how quickly you can make him hard.

He presses himself closer to you. "Can I touch you more?" whispering into your ear.

"Please." he is not the only one getting aroused. This is supposed to be about him, but you know he enjoys your pleasure as much as you do.

He slowly moves his hands from your hips, up your torso to your chest, cupping your tits through the lacy bra, feeling your nipples harden under his warm palms. You moan at his touch and can feel him smile against your cheek, he is also breathing fast and hard while you continue to move your hips on his crotch. Your arch your back and moan, once he starts pinching and pulling on your nipples, you feel yourself getting wetter each passing second.

"So good for me." he whispers into your ear. You are enjoying yourself, but want to take the control back so instead of grinding this time, you bounce in time with the beat, arching your back to feel his entire length. He leans back on the chair, covering his mouth with one hand. You lean into him, reaching your hand behind his neck, you want to feel all of him, needing him like air.

"Don't." you move his hand, which was covering his mouth. "Let me hear you." his put down his hand and opens his eyes, meeting yours. He leans for a kiss, moaning into your mouth and you eat it all up. Knowing you can make him fall apart so easily, makes you even more aroused and determined.

After a particular move of your hips, you notice him whine louder than usual. So you repeat it again and again, getting off on his sounds alone, your own breathing hitching feeling his dick twitch beneath you. His chest hot like coal beneath you, he can't seem to decide where to put his hands, wants to feel all of you at the same time, he moves from your holding your hips to squeezing your chest, enjoying the feel of it under his hands.

"Baby." he tips his head back. "I'm gonna cum if you continue this." he says matter of factly. He is so lost in you, in this closeness, he is fine cuming in his pants at this point. The stimulation and the sight of you enough to tip him over the point.

"Open your mouth for me." you hear him say and follow his instruction blindly. He puts his finger in your mouth, you swirl your tongue around it. He then starts tracing it down your chest, your stomach and in between your legs.

"Is this okay?" he asks before pulling your panties to the side, still trying to make sure to care for your needs first. You realise what he is doing, you want this to be about him, so you quickly gather yourself up, slipping out of his hands, turning to face him. "You are the best." you give him a kiss on the lips. "I love you." another kiss. "So much" a kiss on his neck.

"I love you too." he manages to say. "Let me take care of you." a kiss on chest, as you move to sit on the floor in between his legs.

You sit up higher to place a kiss on his stomach over the t-shirt. Then move it up to place a kiss directly on his skin, revealing his tattoo to you, placing more kisses there looking up at him. His eyes are filled with so much love and lust for you, he can't believe how lucky he is to have you in his life. You move lower and lower.

"Can I take these off?" you ask holding the waistband of his sweatpants.

"Yes." he says nodding. He lifts his hips helping you take it off, letting it fall around his ankles. You place a kiss on the tip of his still clothed dick, feeling the wet spot there.

"Oh fuck." he sighs and you wish you could record all of his sounds and moans to keep it on repeat.

"Can I take these off too, gorgeous?" he nods and you take off his underwear, getting to see his pretty dick. The tip leaking and red. Your mouth is salivating at the sight, you take the base in your hand and stroke it halfway, watching the dollop of precum leak out of his tip.

"I am not gonna last at all." he doesn't want to close his eyes, wants to commit every second of this to his memory, but he is also so close already, he is afraid he will cum as soon as your lips wrap around him and he doesn't want this to end so fast.

You tuck your hair behind your ears and start placing kisses along his shaft, knowing he is close, you decide not to tease him any longer and take him in your mouth, focusing on the tip at first. He lets out a loud moan, borderline a whine, as his hands grip arm rests of the chair. You continue working your way down his length, moving your hands at the base what you can't reach yet. He puts one of his hands in your hair, not pushing, just needing to feel you, to ground himself at least somehow. You come up for air, letting the spit mix with his pre-cum, it's messy, but it's just way he likes it.

You relax your throat and take more of him, your nose pressing on his lower stomach. The pressure feels so good around his tip, he can't help but buck his hips, making you gag, he apologises immediately, but feels you moan around him. You continue bobbing your head, keeping your lips around him, licking on the underside, tasting him. After a few pumps you deepthroat him again, you try to keep him there for as long as you can, feeling him tighten his hold on your hair and moan loudly. The muscles of his stomach twitching. He is so loud, you hope the neighbours won't complain, but you can't care about it now, it is all worth it. You move your hand down to touch his balls.

"I'm close" he manages to say as a warning in case you don't want him to finish in your mouth, but you just hum in agreement around him creating vibrations around him, and continuing to massage his balls. You look up at him, your eyes watering, you look so good with his dick in your mouth, almost naked and he can't control it any longer. You feel him throb and he releases in your mouth with a loud groan. You swallow, letting him ride out his climax before you pull away. You wipe your chin from all the spit and his release you weren’t able to swallow. His chest is raising up and down as he tries to come back to earth. You put your head on his thigh, trying to regulate your own breathing. You are still so wet, you can feel your clit throbbing.

"Come here." he says and you pull yourself up using his thighs for support and straddle him again.

"That was so hot." he kisses you, tasting himself on your tongue. He rests his forehead against yours, breathing the same air, enjoying being so close. You feel him wrap his hands around your thighs and he pushes off the chair standing up suddenly with you in his arms. You squeal in surprise, holding onto his neck.

"What are you doing?"

"Returning the favor. Did you think I would leave you unsatisfied?" he says and lets you both fall on the couch, managing the fall with his hands.

"Oh my god." you breathe out. "That's a lot of energy after just getting your dick sucked."

"That's what you do to me." you feel his weight on top of you so comforting. He brushes your messed up hair away from your face and kisses you deeply, you moan into his mouth, somehow you missed his lips even though it hasn't been that long. You always long for him, always need more, even being as close as right now isn't enough. You wrap your hands around his shoulders, letting him press into you more. When you have to separate for air, he sits up on his knees to take off his shirt, he feels so hot.

"You look great, did I tell you that already?"

"A few times, yeah." you giggle looking at him, as he lets his eyes eat you whole, appreciate the lingerie you put on for him.

"I mean it every time."

You spread your legs, making room for him, as he leans back down to you. He starts placing kisses along your jaw, while his hands wrap your legs around his hips. "Now you tell me about your day." he continues kissing your face, his moustache tickling you.

"I got assigned into a new project at work." you try to keep your tone controlled, but it's difficult with his ministrations. "I'm pretty excited about it-" he starts kissing along your cheek closer to your ear.

"That's good. I'm happy for you." he says into your ear. You try to squirm away, when his breath tickles you, giggling, but he is holding you close to him. "Tell me more." he urges you to continue.

"I bought that new-" you gasp when he moves to leave kisses on your neck. You realise he is mimicking what you were doing to him. "What happened? Continue." he says into your neck, leaving a trace of bites and soothing with his tongue. "I bought the new lotion I was telling you about. Ah" you moan when he kisses your sweet spot and moves his hands along your sides, feeling more of you. "Oh yeah? The one that smells of caramel you told me about?"

"Yes. That one." you manage to reply.

He moves lower, kissing along your shoulders and collarbone, taking off the straps of your bra, letting it fall down your arms. "You know I love caramel."

"Mhm" you hum approvingly.

He puts his head on your chest, kissing along the exposed skin, but he wants more, looking up at you. "Can I take it off?" you nod and he slips his hands behind your back to unclasp the bra. He kisses the newly exposed skin, circling his tongue around your nipple, making you let a loud moan. It makes him smirk with your nipple still in his mouth, he sucks harder on it, getting lost in the feeling of it and your moans, while his hand teases your other nipple.

You are writhing moaning mess underneath him. He loves having you like this, so desperate for more, desperate for him and him only.

"You are so pretty." he says, while switching to the other nipple, putting it in his mouth. You move your hands to run through his hard, scratching at his scalp, making him moan too.

"Please, Joost. More" your brain is already switching off feeling so pent up. He couldn't ever deny you, you treated him so well, he came so hard, the image of you on your knees for him still engraved in his brain.

He moves lower, kissing along your stomach, feeling the soft skin, looking up you for consent when he wants to take off your underwear. You say yes and he takes it off, throwing it somewhere on the floor.

He wastes no time licking at your folds insistently, his tongue so deep in you. "You are so wet. Dancing for me got you worked up too?" he doesn't let you reply when he licks so generously into you.

"Right there, Joost, yes." your moans encouraging him. He sucks on your clit and licks at you listening for your sounds, what makes you moan louder and repeating exactly those actions. He separates for a second, letting his finger run through your folds, collecting your slick and moving it to your hole, slipping in. Your back arches, he moves his hand to hold your hips, while the other finds your nipple, tugging on it as he dives back to suck on your clit. He feels it twitch under his lips in no time. You almost scream, orgasm washing over your body, moaning loud, as you hold his head in place to ride out the orgasm. He continues licking at you, watching your face and pumping his fingers, only lowering the speed when you push at him of overstimulation.

He moves up, his face lying on your chest again, looking up at you, but you feel his fingers still in you, clamping down on his digits. He lets you calm down, but when you open your eyes, smiling at him, he starts pumping his fingers in and out of you again.

"Fuck, Joost." you moan throwing your head back into the pillow.

"Give me one more, baby." he moves closer to you, petting your head with the other hand, making you look at him. Your mouth is opened in a continued moan, your breathing laboured. His own face matches yours, he is enjoying your pleasure as much. He is fucking you with his fingers like he would with his dick, feeling you squeeze around his fingers making him moan as much.

"Should I dance for you too? Would you like that?" he asks, his fingers moving at a faster pace, curling up.

"Do I put on the silk robe?" he says in between kisses along your jaw. "Turn on some slow sexy music?" he feels you clamp down on his fingers at those words.

"Oh you would like that." he smirks, as you let out another moan of his name.

"Fuck, that would be so hot, Joost. I am not even kidding"

You feel him get hard again humping against your leg. "I need you inside, please." you say pushing at his hand between your legs, "I want you to feel good too."

He takes out his fingers, licking them clean, moaning and putting them in your mouth too, your tongue swirling between the digits. His dick twitches at the sight, he sits up, pumping his dick a few times. You wrap your legs around him, encouraging him to hurry up.

"Please, Joost." you whine. "I need you."

He leans in, moving his length through your folds, and finally when his head catches on your hole, he slips in. You are so open and wet for him, sucking him right in, it feels so good, he almost cums on the spot, he has to close his eyes and focus. After a moment of collecting himself, he bottoms out, feeling you stretch around him, he leans closer to you to place a kiss on your lips. He starts picking up the pace, both of you still sensitive from your previous orgasms, you know this won't last long.

The sounds in the room are downright sinful, the wet sounds bouncing off the walls. Both of you clinging onto each other.

"I am so lucky to have you. I love you. Thank you so much" he starts running his mouth against your ear, he is holding himself on his elbows on each side of you, one of his arms sneaks between you to touch your clit, your face twisting in pleasure. Your arms are wrapped around his shoulders, wanting to feel him closer.

"I love you too. I'd do anything for you." he says through gritted teeth, you can tell he is close, know you are. After a particular sharp thrust, your back arches, with a loud moan you gush around him. With the added wetness he can move with almost no friction and it triggers his own orgasm. You watch his face contorted in pleasure, before he hides it in your neck groaning and whining. He comes so deep inside of you, continuing to rut inside you, your mixed releases spilling out.

You are not ready to separate from each other yet, you scratch his back lightly, helping him calm down. He kisses your shoulder. He pulls out of you carefully, seeing his cum spill out of you, mesmerised every time. He sits up and puts his underwear back on. You watch him stand up, while you still feel like jelly. He goes to bring a warm washcloth to clean you up, washing so carefully between your legs.

After both of you are decent, he finds the robe you wearing on the floor. He starts putting it on, the sleeves too short on his arms, barely fitting him, it covers halfway up his ass. You start laughing uncontrollably at how he looks.

"Dude, you look so funny." you sit up and reach for your phone to take a photo of him, still laughing.

"Funny? I was supposed to look sexy" he strikes a pose putting his hand on his hip, pouting his lips. Another one holding a peace sign with his fingers. For another photo he pretends to be shocked, covering up his chest, but the robe barely closes around him. You are doubled over laughing at him.

He reaches for his sweatpants on the floor, taking out a pack of cigarettes from the pocket, going up to the window to smoke, still wearing your robe.

He opens the window and takes a long drag, as your laughter can still be heard. He is so happy in this moment, truly the luckiest man on earth.

[penkura]

Special Gift

Summary: Zoro watches your kids while you're out for the day, making sure they don't sneak any peeks at their Christmas gifts under the tree.

Note: So this uses the kids from my OP Men as Dads series, but before the twins are born. Hope you guys enjoy! I'M SORRY IT'S SO LATE, I GOT SO BUSY TODAY.

“I just need you to watch them for a bit while I’m at the doctor, I’ll bring some dinner!”

Your request made Zoro sigh at the time, though he was joking around when he said ‘I guess’ with a roll of his eyes that made you laugh before kissing him. You’ve been together long enough that you know he’s kidding around, he doesn’t mind watching your kids, they’re always good for him and the day usually ends with all three of them taking a nap together. It’s also something you love coming home to, it gives you some quiet to work on a few things if you need to, especially now being pregnant and having to get your house ready for the newest member of your family.

Still though, watching your kids for a few hours is no problem for Zoro. If they need anything they go to him, they’ll convince him to play a game with them or read a children’s book to them, anything to spend any time with their dad. At six and four, Keitaro and Kuina are both bright and active, eagerly awaiting Christmas and the moment they get to open their gifts. You rarely have worry about them acting up bad enough to suggest calling Santa and telling him not to come by, the two are that well behaved for you.

No one believed that was possible with Zoro as their father, but you knew better when you first saw him with your son after he was born. More so when Kuina was born, she had him wrapped around her finger instantly and nothing she does could ever make Zoro upset with her. Keitaro is the same, he doesn’t ever want to get in trouble, he heard you yell once when someone cut you off in traffic and it was enough for him to not want to hear it again. Not like you’d ever yell at him or his sister, you spoil and dote on them too much anyway.

While you’re gone Zoro does what he can to take somethings off your plate, getting you’re kids involved with the laundry or sweeping floors, while he tries to knock out the dishes for you (Sanji never believes you when you tell him this is a common thing in your house). Eventually, he hears the sound of something being shaken from your living room, before little voices start talking and he has to keep himself from laughing too loud.

“Umm…I think it’s a puzzle?”

“A puzzle!”

“It’s yours, Kuina!”

She nearly squeals at the mention of it being her gift, Zoro walks in just in time to see her grab one and start shaking it, trying to figure out what it is by sound alone too. He’s sure they won’t start trying to open anything early, you trust them enough to leave the gifts out a few days before Christmas, but he’s going to watch then just to be safe. If anything they’ll just shake a gift that isn’t theirs and hopefully not break anything. They probably won’t even find the gifts you made to announce your pregnancy or just think it’s a random toy.

He still can’t believe there’s going to be a third one this time next year, even after you planned it all.

“Hey now,” they both almost jump hearing Zoro speak up, him smirking a bit since they were starting to get a little too close to looking in gift bags, “Don’t be peeking, you won’t have any surprises.”

“Daddy!”

Keitaro pouts a little but moves back to sitting on the floor while Kuina gets up and runs to Zoro, having him lift her up to his shoulders. Once she’s there and giggling, Zoro crouches down by Keitaro and ruffle this hair, making him whine.

“Looking for something?”

“No…”

“Mommy said there’s a special gift for us!”

“Kuina!”

She’s confused why Keitaro didn’t want her to say anything, but it just makes Zoro laugh a bit. You’re not giving them any more information than that, they’ll have to wait, but he can’t blame them for being curious. It’s only a couple more days until they learn what it is, he’s sure they’ll keep trying to sneak in and take a peek at their gifts until they figure it out themselves.

“Come on, leave the gifts alone for now, okay?” Zoro pats Keitaro’s head again before standing up and nodding to the kitchen, “Mom will be back soon, let’s get something to eat.”

They both complain a little, since they’re so curious about whatever this special gift is, but they still agree and go to the kitchen with Zoro.

A couple more days before things change, Zoro will enjoy these moments of having just two kids, before it turns to three and things get even more hectic than they already are. He’s looking forward to it though, he’s rather have a busy life than a boring one anyway.

[wickedsmille]

batman, robin, sentient super suits, oh my! part 3

Ta~ da~! Part 3 and done. (Here's Part 1 and Part 2, if ya want.) It didn't go exactly as I wanted but when I went back to rewrite part of it I couldn't make myself do it so. Welp, it is what it is. But, here we go -

---------

A little while later, Tim yelps from his side of the bed. Jason’s head whips around to see what the commotion is, bumping shoulders with Tim who has also hastily sat up.

Craning his neck, Jason looks down over the side of the bed to where Tim is staring, dumbfounded. All he sees is Tim’s bag, open with the Red Robin costume on top. Sort of strange since leaving their gear out in the open isn’t exactly Bat-protocol. No telling when a nosy or distracted maid might barge in. Otherwise, nothing is amiss. Color Jason confused.

“What the fuck,” Tim breathes as he scoots further back till he’s half in Jason’s lap which, awesome, but weird.

“What?” Jason snaps. 

Over the side of the bed, the sleeve of the Red Robin suit snakes up and slaps down hard on Tim’s wrist near the edge of the bed. He makes a high noise of surprise then he’s fully in Jason’s lap. Still awesome, very much so, but bigger fish to fry and everything. Such as the irrefutable proof that Red Robin has gained the nebulous honor of having a mind of its own. And it’s apparently not very happy with Tim if the way it snaps out to hit him again is any indication. This time, Tim pulls his hand back before he can get slapped.

“How-” Tim chokes out, whipping his head around to stare at Jason.

Their faces are so damned close Jason can feel the too fast puffs of Tim’s breath against his cheek. It’s doing him absolutely no favors in staying focused on the issue at hand. 

Tim’s eyes narrow. “Did you do something to it?”

“Me? That thing was totally normal until you got a hold of it. What did you do to it?”

“I didn’t do anything!”

“Un-fucking-likely!”

A pitter patter of sound draws both of them away from the edge of their budding argument. Back at the side of the bed, the Red Robin suit is padding its sleeves against the blanket to draw their attention. Guess it didn’t like where their conversation was headed. 

“Oh yeah, that thing is totally alive,” Jason says. 

“No” Tim drawls sarcastically. He frowns at the suit. A flash of understanding brightens his face as his mouth drops open. “Oh my god. I can’t believe I didn’t see it before.”

“Mind cluing in us pea brained peons?”

Without looking, Tim hits Jason in the chest with the back of his hand. “All the malfunctions!”

Tim doesn’t need to say anything else for Jason to pick up what he’s laying down. The events of the past few weeks make a lot more sense now. Including their current predicament which has led to a lap full of dressed down, sleep warm Tim. Touche, Red Robin, well done. He has to hand it to the suit. Red Hood is all overt action with very little subtly but Red Robin had completely flown under his radar. Even yelling at it earlier was based more on a vague hunch.

“I’m glad I hollered at it earlier then.”

Tim’s eyes snap back to him, incredulous and amused. “You were talking to an inanimate object?”

“First of all, it isn’t inanimate any more. Second, don’t act like you’ve never talked at something before.”

Tellingly, Tim stays silent. 

“Look at it this way, you’ve been chosen,” Jason says with a shrug. “Better than, I guess, since you brought the fuckin’ thing to life.”

Tim does this odd thing where he goes boneless. As in he falls limp against Jason’s chest with his head resting on Jason’s shoulder. For a second, he’s worried something is wrong. Tim wouldn’t be Tim if he weren’t wound tighter than a spring. He’s the most neurotic sonuvabitch Jason knows. To have him so soft and pliant? It’s kind of throwing him for a loop.

Looking down at Tim’s face, Jason’s worries bleed away. The content, gentle happiness he finds there, only a thin thread of bitter sadness belying it, tells Jason all he needs to know. Once more, because he’s just that good, Jason has stuck his foot in his mouth. Except in a good way this time. 

Thinking back, Tim told him what it was like when he was first Robin. It sure as hell hadn’t felt good when Robin didn’t want anything to do with him. He can’t imagine what it was like for Tim to have to actively fight against the suit. To push and push and push till he was finally, reluctantly accepted. Only to be dropped and have nothing waiting for him, ready for him. The lonely ache of wondering if he’s good enough and that’s why a suit doesn’t come for him. Needing to push past all that, piled on top of the long hours and endless horrors the nightlife brings, and keep on keepin’ on. 

But Jason has pointed out the obvious which he doesn’t doubt Tim completely overlooked. In agreement, Red Robin raises its sleeve and points at Jason.

“Oh,” Tim breathes. “I didn’t even know that was possible.”

“Me neither. Way to make history.”

Tim rolls his eyes. “But I don’t get it. Why do all of this?”

Once more, Red Robin pointedly gestures towards Jason. He glares at the damn thing because if anyone needs to shut up, it’s Red Robin. Given the genuine curiosity and bafflement in Tim’s voice, Jason’s pretty sure he’s not being purposefully obtuse. Granted, Tim can lie with the best of them, the little scamp. Jason has been meaning to get a few lessons. His gut is telling him this isn’t one of those times. Tim really doesn’t get it and Jason would like it to stay that way until he can either nut up and confess or brutally murder the impulse to fuck him raw at the first opportunity.

“No idea,” Jason replies lightly.

On his side of the bed, Jason’s bag wiggles violently. He groans and clenches his jaw, unwilling to let Red Hood enter the chat. This is a recipe for disaster. Adding in his suit won’t help him in keeping his inconvenient crush under wraps. For all he knows, Red Robin and Red Hood have been colluding together to make this shit happen. 

“What,” Tim starts before trailing off. 

The stare he pins Jason down with is so intense and invasive Jason feels like he needs to shove Tim off and disappear for a few months. It’s something akin to being flayed alive. His eyes skitter across Jason’s face, breaking him down bit by bit without needing to say a word or lift a finger. Really, Jason should get Tim away from him before he peels away the last layers keeping Jason from being truly perceived. 

Lightning quick and catching Jason unaware, Tim lunges across him to drape himself over Jason’s side of the bed. With deft fingers, he yanks open Jason’s bag. There the Red Hood is in all its glory, helmet on top of a bundle of heavy padding and armor. The lights on the eyes flash and Tim blinks down at it. 

“Hey, now!” Jason chides, dipping down so he can shut the bag before the shit show starts.

He doesn’t get that far before he’s getting full-on backhanded by the sleeve of his own suit. Wow, the suits are being aggressive. He’s not even sure what to do so he tenses up and stares at the wall. There’s enough semtex in the bag to blow it all to hell, right? He could totally ask Alfred to call up Lucius for a new suit. If Tim can finagle a consciousness into a regular suit, Jason should be able to as well. Maybe the next one won’t be such an asshole. Though he doubts it. On all counts.

He doesn’t remember if actually brought any plastique. Lucius isn’t exactly itching to do Jason any favors and Alfred would be more likely to politely mock him for doing something as stupid as blowing up his own suit. There’s no way for them to know how Red Robin is Red Robin now. And he’s, admittedly, a major asshole so it only makes sense whatever suit gets stuck with him has a personality to match. 

Tim bops the helmet and scowls at it. “Rude.” Red Hood doesn’t hit Tim. Instead, it pats him on the cheek gently. “Much better,” Tim says, satisfied.

Jason gapes at the interaction. “That is so unfair. What the fuck!”

“I told you things went well when I covered for you.”

“Apparently. Maybe a little too well.”

“I wouldn’t say that. It seemed like the Red Hood lik-”

Flipping over so his ass is seated in the well of Jason’s legs, back arched over his thigh, Tim looks at Jason. Jason doesn’t like the way Tim is looking at him. It’s less wondering and more knowing. So he does what he does best and tries to push Tim off him. They’ve been too close to too long and the need to run is an overwhelming compulsion at this point. Like a goddamn lamprey, Tim winds his arms around Jason’s waist and holds fast. The guy doesn’t go anywhere despite Jason’s best efforts since he isn’t in a position to get the leverage he needs to pry Tim off.

“You like me,” Tim says simply.

Jason chokes as the bottom of his stomach falls out. “No, I don’t,” Jason denies.

His helmet makes a high pitched whine of protest like the voice modulator got hit with a current and fried the circuitry. Goddamn, he thinks he even hears a click from one of his guns. Red Hood is a straight up thug. Which Jason loves but, holy hell, right now he definitely doesn’t. Being bullied by what amounts to a souped up, military grade Call of Duty cosplay hits him right in his pride. Forget Bruce and the clusterfuck of that whole thing, this is his new villain origin story. 

Red Robin isn’t so charmed by his denial either. The suit flops onto the bed, farther up this time, so it can nail him right in the shin. Jason makes a pained noise more from being startled than it actually hurting. If the blanket weren’t draped over his legs, then, yeah, that would’ve stung. Great, now, he’s being bullied by the equivalent of a theater major seamstress’ fever dream too. When will the injustices end?

Throwing his hands up, literally because he’s so far past settling for metaphorically doing it, Jason looks to the ceiling and prays for patience. And to not get socked in the jaw by Tim for what he’s about to say. Still, to the pock-marked ceiling, Jason says, “Fine, yes, I like you! Jesus, fuck, everybody lay offa me! This is the worst kind of peer pressure. At least I could cunt punt a peer but no. I get some goddamn JoAnn Fabric cast offs harassing me.”

“And me,” Tim pipes up.

“And you! Which, can’t we focus on the miracle of your suit showing signs of intelligent, manipulative and kind-of-dickish life? Let’s go back to you getting misty eyed over a newly minted supernatural costume.”

“We’ll come back to that,” Tim agrees, “but first we should probably deal with this. Just, Jason...”

Well, shit, he doesn’t like Tim’s tone. It’s not the voice of a man about to lay his heart bare in preparation for an emotionally charged conversation destined to end in a heated kiss and a roll in the sack before the camera cuts to black. Nor is it shy and demure or happy and accepting. Jason doesn’t want to put a name to it but, if he had to, he’d say Tim sounds distinctly awkward and uncomfortable. Hesitant and pained. This does not bode well for his chances. He can already smell the acrid, sharp scent of his chances going up in flames. 

“There’s a lot between us,” Tim says somewhere around the bottom of Jason’s ribcage. “That we’ve never talked about.” Now Tim pulls away fully until he’s back on his side of the bed.

Jason knows a let down when he hears one. He opens his mouth to tell Tim to can it, spare them both the continued embarrassment. On some level, Jason always knew anything between them would be doomed. Forget burning the bridge between himself and Tim, Jason incinerated it. With prejudice. The fact they’ve come so far already is a miracle. It’s the little, emaciated street kid in him that makes him greedy, to take and take and take until he can’t anymore. Well, this is the can’t anymore, he guesses. But now he’ll lose it all. 

The words are there on the tip of his tongue when his helmet makes another whirring, whining noise of protest on one side of the bed and there’s the pat, pat, pat of fabric against fabric on the other. His head whips between the Red Hood, disgruntled and displeased, and Red Robin attacking Tim’s leg much as it had Jason. Tim quickly scoots back towards Jason and pulls his legs in. In response, Red Robin flops onto the bed again and nails Tim right across the face. 

Jason has never claimed to be a good person so he laughs. “Okay, I’m starting to feel fuckin’ hunted here. I get why they’re coming at me but-”

He breaks off since there’s no point in finishing the sentence. Tim is a genius. Point blank, period. It’s a verifiable fact Jason hates and likes in equal measure. If his big brain can’t piece together a puzzle, Jason doesn’t stand a chance but by no means is he a slouch. For this, understanding why Red Robin and Red Hood are coming at Tim just as hard as they are at him, Jason doesn’t need a three digit IQ. 

“You little shit, you like me too,” Jason accuses, honestly mad Tim was about to dismiss him out of hand. 

Tim doesn’t say anything which is answer enough for Jason. Not for Red Robin who whips out at Tim again, making him curl up tighter and away from the offending garment. Or offended garment, in this case. 

“I’m bad at this,” Tim hisses to his suit. “God, why are you so-”

“Oddly violent?”

“Persistent,” Tim insists, glaring at Jason. 

Jason fixes him with a look.

“And a manipulative asshole,” Jason supplies but he isn’t talking about Tim’s suit anymore.

“I’m bad at this,” Tim says again, this time directly to Jason.

“Tim.”

“Jason.”

Red Robin and Red Hood voice their displeasure as much as they can.

Rolling his eyes, Jason talks at the ceiling again because it’s easier. “Why wouldn’t you just say that? Okay, you’re bad at it, fine. I literally paved the way for you to just say ‘Golly gee, me too’.”

“I’m awkward, okay?” Tim blurts, irritated and not bothering to pull on his usual carefully crafted mask of indifference. “I’m not exactly the greatest when it comes to interpersonal relationships. You can just ask Steph.” After a brief pause, Tim backpedals, “Actually, don’t. Never do that.”

“Well now I have to.”

“You really, really don’t.”

“Maybe if you’d stop being such a coward-”

“Shut up.”

“Make me,” Jason says maturely.

Jason should’ve known the kiss was coming as soon as the words were out of his mouth. Not once has Jason seen Tim back down from a challenge once it has been set down in front of him. Including the time Jason gave him a spectacular beat down in Titans Tower and demanded to know if Tim thought he was good enough for Robin. Half unconscious and bloodied, Tim had said yes. 

This isn’t so different, Jason thinks, because he kisses back, brutal and vicious and commanding, while Tim takes it all then dishes it back. More than once, Jason’s teeth clack against Tim’s but neither of them pull away. Somewhere between now and Jason’s head emptying of rational thought, his hand has found its way to the back of Tim’s neck, keeping him in place. He doesn’t have to worry about Tim pulling away, not really, with the way Tim holds onto Jason’s waist.

The world drops away till there’s nothing but the soft, barely there moans Tim breathes into him. He swallows them greedily, vows to get more of them till he’s had his fill. His other hand, the one not latched onto Tim, finds Tim’s thigh and kneads at the muscle there. One of Tim’s hands slides down and skirts along the edge of his shirt till it teasingly slips under the fabric. The rough, calloused pads of Tim’s fingers ghost over his stomach, making the muscles twitch. 

It all comes back into focus, hitting him like a freight train, when the hand on Tim’s leg can’t wander any farther up than it already has even though he knows he’s nowhere near his ultimate end goal. Cracking open his eyes, Jason looks down to see Red Robin forming a blockade to preserve Tim’s chastity. Red Robin doesn’t get to mastermind them into a bed together then dictate what they do when Tim’s making those encouraging, willing little noises.

Leaning back to catch his breath, Jason reluctantly lets go of Tim’s leg and scruffs the Red Robin suit then tosses it over the side of the bed with a growl. 

“That was uncalled for,” Tim tells him.

“You want me to stop?” Jason asks.

“No. Very much no.”

“Then it was called for,” Jason asserts. 

“Fair enough,” Tim laughs. He huffs as his eyes dart from one side of the bed to the other. “It’d be weird to do anything with the suits here though.”

“They literally fondle us on a nightly basis. I think their definition of propriety is a little different from ours,” Jason points out. 

Looking thoughtful, Tim says, “Huh, I knew the Red Hood suit was chafing weird when I wore it.”

Leaning over, Jason slaps his helmet and shoves his bag under the bed. “Goddamn dirty dog, keep your kevlar weave off.” 

The Red Hood doesn’t make a peep or put up any protest. Jason doubts it’s because the suit wore itself out being more active than usual. Stupid thing probably doesn’t have a good counter argument, having been caught out and ruthlessly thrown under the bus by Tim. 

“In its defense, it really made things easy and protected me well. It was, sweet, too, I guess?” Tim offers.

“Well, good,” Jason replies lamely. “Can’t say the same about Red Robin,” he adds with a glare at Tim’s side of the bed where Red Robin is hopefully puddled on the ground and content to stay there.

Meddlers, the both of them. Grade A meddlers of the highest order. 

“Yeah,” Tim says contemplatively. 

To poke the bruise one more time, Jason tells him, “Yanno, the suit’s probably something special because you’re something special.”

The sappy ass words make Jason feel like the world’s biggest tool but it’s worth it for the instant flush. His cheeks and ears and neck all go a delicious pink that Jason wants to bite at. Take the light dusting and make it vibrant. Create a portrait of deep reds and purples wherever he can. Jason thinks he’ll get the chance to do that sooner than expected when Tim tackles him. After a brief scuffle, Jason rolls them so Tim’s under him with his wrists pinned and legs draped on either side of Jason’s hips. Tim could get out of the hold. Jason isn’t trying to really keep him down. 

But Tim doesn’t. 

He allows it which is enough for Jason to settle his weight over Tim and forget about the busy body suits probably basking in smug satisfaction for getting them to this point.

[cheshiresense]

Your latest time-travel verse made me rewatch Kyoraku vs Starrk battle over Fake Katakura.

I have to say, over the years, I have forgotten how sad that battle is. The way Starrk mourns even Barragan's death and loses his (already small to begin with) desire to fight after it... The only reason the guy followed Aizen was because Aizen gave him... friends😭 A pack. The only reason he fought was to protect that pack. Doesn't matter if that pack consisted of some shady individuals. It was his. The first and only one he got in all his 1000+ years of existence. He had no desire to strike down his enemies - didn't kill Ukitake, proposed Love and Rose to retreat with their lives... In a way, he and Ichigo are very much alike in that sense.

Starrk was too honorable and naive and paid for that.

And Shunsui killed Lilynette😭 It is so heartrending when Starrk calls out to her with no answer...

Shunsui's philosophy, on the contrary, allows him "to be evil" in order to win. Yes, he does not like war, just like Starrk, but IMHO, "as soon as the war starts both sides are at fault" does not mean Shunsui is saying that both sides are wrong in the war and to not fight till you completely disable / kill your opponent. I think, to paraphrase, it means: "As soon as the war start, to win, both sides *will* have to be evil / There are no good people in a war because winning a war requires one to do evil things, so someone who were maybe a good person will have to become evil to win". This philosophy, basically, is "to unbound his hands" (as we say in our language, meaning when something is used to make a person free to act), a workaround that allows him to be ruthless to his opponents, despite his pacifistic nature.

Anyway, emotional rant over. I guess I just wanted to share my pain🥲 I just hope Shunsui killing a part of Starrk's soul and the only family he had will somehow be addressed between them in the future in your fic's universe. I think it's just too huge to leave out. And the only way I can see Starrk never saying anything at all to his Shunsui in TYBW timeline - is because he is THAT much of a sucker for pain and/or THAT much desperate for a genuine connection with somebody.

Starrk is just a really tragic character with a really tragic arc, canonically he was never meant to be saved or have a chance at something better.

I don't know if I'd call him particularly honourable, if only because that doesn't seem like the sort of thing he'd really think about and adhere to as a Hollow who'd spent his whole life in a place like Hueco Mundo, not in the same way a Shinigami would. I think it was more that he just didn't want to kill anyone when he'd already killed so many without ever having a choice in the matter, and now that he did, he didn't want to keep doing that if he didn't absolutely have to. He was definitely a bit naive about it because it was war, and he was up against one of the most powerful and ruthless Shinigami in existence. The moment he decided to hold back, he was destined to lose.

For Shunsui, I agree, he believes that to win a war, people have to get their hands dirty, and you can't do that and still remain "good". I also think he thinks that it's disrespectful to not do everything in his power to win, because even if that means throwing away his honour, to do anything less means risking the lives of those he's fighting that war for.

Which ties into why I personally think Starrk doesn't really blame Shunsui for Lilynette's death. I think Starrk is smart enough and similar enough to Shunsui to understand him. And why blame Shunsui when he can blame himself? He's the one who held back from the start, he didn't fight as hard as he could, he even had the chance to kill Shunsui if he'd just gone down to finish the job after shooting him instead of just backing off after disabling him, or he could've even shot him somewhere more leathal like the back of the head instead of the shoulder/chest, because at their level, which Shinigami or Hollow wouldn't survive a simple injury like that? He would've also been able to sense full well that Shunsui's reiatsu signature hadn't disappeared. So that choice is on him, and he paid for it with Lilynette's life.

I also think Starrk didn't have much conviction or resolve, I mean I don't think most of the Espada really believed in Aizen's cause, they just followed him for more power or because Aizen tricked them or forced them, and prob with a side of hypnosis to pave the way. So Starrk didn't even have anything concrete to believe in and fight for aside from a debt he felt he had to repay, and that was quickly wearing away when he saw how Aizen didn't give a shit about them.

So overall, he went into battle against Shunsui without any desire to fight or kill because he thought he didn't really have anything he wanted enough to fight for, right up until he lost Lilynette and realized that yeah he did have something precious to lose after all. In contrast, Shunsui was fighting for Soul Society and to protect his fellow Shinigami, and at the time, he definitely understood that far better than Starrk did.

If Starrk had survived, I think he would've understood that too, plus he just doesn't have the kind of temper that lashes out and casts blame on others due to excess emotion; rather, he has the sort of analytical mind to comprehend the cause and effect of things pretty instantly. That would all play a big part in why he wouldn't blame Shunsui for doing what he had to do to take Starrk out. He and Lilynette were one, Shunsui would've had to kill both of them sooner or later, otherwise he might as well lie down and give up, Starrk wasn't exactly an opponent he could take it easy with.

In the time travel verse here, Idk if I'd make it a particularly huge thing, because for Starrk it's been like 10+ years, I imagine he's laid that ghost to rest a long time ago even if the loss still hurts sometimes, plus it's not TBTP!Shunsui who killed her, and i think he would've hashed out the issue with TYBW!Shunsui already at the beginning. Of course, TBTP!Shunsui is bound to find out about it eventually, which could be interesting to poke at.

But in Take What's Broken (Make It Whole), it'll definitely come up sooner or later. Even if Starrk doesn't bring it up first, Shunsui will, and even if there's no blame, I imagine they would at least have to talk about it going forward.

[luciferanalyzestar]

Viv definitely not planned out things because she has habit of arbitrarily change plots and characters because of one thing that she gets interested in (Vaggie being an angel? That was just a popular fan theory about her which Viv made canon, Vaggie was originally intended to be a sinner who was a prostitute that died in 2014, Did you know that Cherri Bomb is australian just because Viv listened to australian music? Or how Nifty is made to be japanese just because her pilot va can speak japanese fluently? Or how stolas x blitzo came to be just because she saw a piece of fanart where young stolas and blitzo meet each other)

Vaggie being a prostitute would be better if Viv did not create her. Naming a sex worker after genitals is misogynistic. End of story!

Her backstory is similar to the hundreds of cases of serial killers targeting sex workers because they knew the sex work is stigmatized and no one will notice that they went missing. There have been times where a woman survived her attempted murder, but no one believed her due to her status of being a sex worker.

Vaggie's name not being changed is also childish on Viv's part. She is the only Sapphic character in Hazbin and that is her name?? Just learned that Vaggie is not a WLW/Lesbian, she labeled as 'Queer' on her fandom wiki page, I don't know how to feel about this info.

Viv will never beat the misogynist allegations.

Back to the show, Vaggie being an angel makes Charlie and Vaggie's relationship to similar to Lucifer and Lilith's. I think Charlie/Vaggie's relationship would have been stronger if Vaggie stayed a Sinner.

Imagine in episode five when Lucifer said that Sinners are all awful people and Charlie claps back and uses Vaggie as an example of how some Sinners are kind people that got screwed over or done certain 'sinful' things to protect themselves?

If Viv wanted Vaggie being an angel to have more weight to it, remove all the Alastor bullshit, have a moment where Lucifer would have taken Vaggie aside while Charlie distracted. He confronts her saying that he knows she is an angel and asks Vaggie how she rounded up in Hell. Vaggie does not explain her full backstory, but she was once an exorcist, and that Charlie does not know.

"Post-pilot dialogue recording, Vivziepop decided that she wanted Cherri to be Australian, after becoming inspired by Australian folk music. Though the dialogue could not be re-recorded, Vivziepop has expressed interest in making Cherri Australian for future episodes and projects featuring the character."

Oh, my goodness. It does not help that Cherri's voice is annoying and forced. Americans cannot do an Australian accent without it sounding unrealistic. Anyway, if Viv founds something to be "cool", she just adds it to a character. When Cherri gets her own song, will the instrumentals be inspired by Australian folk music?

"Vivziepop said that, although she had yet to lock down all of the characters' races and ethnicities, she had been writing Niffty with a mind to her being Japanese. This was originally due to Niffty's pilot voice actress being able to speak Japanese fluently."

No wonder they changed Niffy's skin tone from the plot to the show. Saying that a character is now Japanese while their skin tone is yellow is unfortunate.

Do you know how surprised fans are when finding Niffty is Japanese? I find it 'funny' that Cherri has an accent, but Niffty does not one? Her VA is from Japanese descent. I would have been neat if Niffty said certain words in Japanese when speaking like how Vaggie does but with Spanish.

I remember seeing a post about the child Stolas/Blitz fanart, but I cannot find it for the life of me. They actually showed what the fanart looked like. I FOUND IT!! This was shared by an alleged ex-Spindlehorse employee. They said that another crew member drew it, not a random fan.

Blitz and Stolas being "childhood friends to lovers" is corny! I have no issue with the trope, but Blitz was sold to Paimon to play with Stolas for the day. That is dark which would have been fine if the show portrays it has dark and how twisted the Ars Goetia are and not "AWWWWWW! <3 THE ARE SO CUTE AND DESERVE TO BE TOGETHER!!!!!!!!" Them knowing each other as child is never bought up again in season two either so what was the point?

Viv not her own stories planned out is obvious. There nothing wrong with changing a plot detail or characterization. Do not do it last minute where episodes are in production and lines are being recorded.

[futuremrscameron]

academic rival pogue!reader

content warnings: micro aggressions, child endangerment (obx plot), past drug use, rivals to lovers, light misogyny

academic rivals with pope. she’s one of the few people that can really piss him off.

on an academic scholarship at kildare academy and gets harassed for it

“you know it’s really just charity they’re doing letting you come here. they need at least one pogue to make them look diverse.”

bethany leans against her locker across the hallway glancing over every so often barely trying to be subtle about who

“wow that’s a big word for you. you learn that on sesame street?”

“bitch.”

“see you later bethany.”

she and pope push each other to be better and keep each other on their toes. she helps him out with clues from the pogues’ treasure hunts before she knows what’s going on

“i mean what else could it mean.”

“did you never take english lit? the curtains are blue for a reason pope.”

“oh that’s so helpful thank you for your input.”

“did you try looking in a

the only girl in a house full of boys (her father and twin brother)

pope’s complete opposite in every way but academically, she parties, smokes, drinks, and on occasion does coke

“yo rafe!”

“matilda.”

“fuck off.”

“ooh that’s no way to talk to someone that wants something from me.”

hates that pope uses his intelligence to help the pogues with their schemes, she sees it as a waste and thinks he should invest all his brain power into his academics

she definitely fell first. didn’t know how to handle her feelings so she was nicer to him and he was a little scared. why was his rival suddenly being nice to him?

he realized he liked her after she hugged him when he returned to outer banks in s3

“for a genius you sure act like an idiot. do you know how many assignments you missed? don’t scare me like that again asshole.”

“you were worried?”

“no shit heyward.”

“do you like me?”

“wasn’t it obvious?”

gathers homework for pope when he’s absent and drops it off

“i brought your homework.”

“isn’t kildare county high an hour away from kook academy?”

“just take it heyward.”

pope doesn’t realize she likes him until she tells him how much she missed him during his time on poguelandia

study dates at each other’s house that usually turns into making out

the heywards love her, think she’s a good influence on pope unlike his hooligan friends (little do they know)

academic rival!pogue helps pope study for his GED and apply to colleges in and out of state

she’s worried that pope won’t want her when she tells him she’s not a virgin

does not get along with jj but knows how important they both are to him so she would never make him choose

graduates top of her class at kildare county academy

loves cleo. she thinks jj is scum and the other pogues are idiots but cleo? she’s an angel. she’s a thief? who cares. she’s killed people? good for her. she truly believes cleo can do no wrong and might have a tiny crush on her

worries about long distance dating when she goes to brown but is reassured by pope constantly keeping in touch whether it be through phone calls, texts, or actual handwritten letters

very possessive but pope finds it hot

could’ve solved half of the pogues’ problems if they came to her

[windvexer]

Do you know if there's a chance that someone just... Can't do magic? I feel like none of my spells work despite trying different methods and advice, I've never been chosen by a deity like most practicioners seem to be, I feel like there's something I'm missing fundamentally that means I just can't make magic. How can I check, so I stop giving myself hope and then having it crushed?

Perhaps a bad faith take, but I doubt most practitioners have been chosen by deities. I am of the opinion that many people believe they are supposed to be chosen and then use very lax systems of omen reading to justify that such-and-such god is claiming them.

Over the years, many people have asked me for help getting their spells to work, or solving such-and-such magical blockage.

And unfortunately, just about every time, the end result is that the person really has not done as much work as they think they have done, and they are still more or less on square one (or square zero) of practice.

Here are the sorts of questions I would ask you if we were chatting about this:

Focus

What specific school of magic are you trying to learn? "Witchcraft" and "magic" are not schools. Are you trying to learn Traditional Witchcraft? Lodge Magic? Chaos Magick? Appalachian Folk Magic? Dianic Wicca?

Out of the school of magic you are trying to learn, how many books have you read about it?

Out of those books, how many of them focused on actual technique and theory? As in, explaining the magical theories as to why this system works the way it does.

Do you have a clear understanding of why this magical system works the way it does? Can you describe it to me?

Within the magical system you have chosen to study, is there a clearly laid groundwork for what practitioners are supposed to have to do before they are valid/initiated/adept within this system? If so, have you achieved all of those requirements?

How many months of ongoing study and practice do you think is reasonable until you are ready to move to a new school of focus?

Learning Plan

Witchcraft is a complex and variable skill that, like writing a novel, requires a working knowledge of many diverse skillsets.

What is the specific goal you are working towards at this time? "Getting a spell to work" is not specific enough. "Casting a prosperity spell that is able to generate small amounts of cash, gifts, or benefits within a 2 week period" is the type of thing I mean.

What is your lesson plan to achieve that goal? An example might be, 1) read a book on prosperity magic, 2) study and research 5 accessible plants related to prosperity, 3) learn an energy raising technique, 4) learn how to charge correspondences, 5) learn how to add correspondences to candle spell, 6) learn magical timing techniques.

Even if you do not have a lesson plan, can you name the top 3 things you have been actively practicing to try and become a better practitioner? Examples might be energy raising, visualizing techniques, talking to spirits.

Once you formulate a lesson plan, ask yourself how many hours you think is reasonable to spend on each step. If you don't think you've ever successfully raised energy before, do you think it's fair that you might require 10 hours of practice learning your first energy raising technique before you can do it?

Could you explain to me the steps you believe are required to perform magic? Include how many hours you've spent practicing techniques applicable to each step.

Practice

Think of magic as being like learning to close a restaurant by yourself. You must be experienced in all of the stations, and have in-depth knowledge about the standards required. Do you also have such experience and understanding when it comes to your own craft?

Outside of reading and study, since the start of your practice, how many hours of concerted effort have you put in trying to perform magical techniques? This includes energy work, casting spells, sensing energies, divination, talking to spirits.

Write a list of each specific magical technique you have tried to learn. Not just "energy work" but, "Earth-roots grounding visualization to raise or balance energy into the planet." "Gathering energy into the lungs and exhaling to release excess energy." "Trying to contact the spirits of tarot cards." Be very specific. Next, write down how many hours you think you have spent practicing each technique. Which techniques have you spent more than 10 hours practicing, even if that practice is across years?

Write down every spell you ever remember trying to cast. How many are there?

Of all the spells you've tried to cast, are they from a wide variety of intents (such as prosperity, protection, luck, binding, conjuring), or are they mostly one type (e.g., prosperity)? Write down how many different kinds of spells you've tried to cast, based on intent. Have you practiced at least 5-10 spells in each category?

Technique

You've asked me, so given the way I do things:

How long does it take you to cast simple spells? Do you think it might be reasonable to expect that casting even a simple spell could take 30 minutes or more?

When you work spells, how long does it take you to raise energy? This can also include hours/days spent finding objects/ingredients of natural power. Would you say that you spend at least 10-15 minutes raising magical power for every spell that you cast?

When you work spells, how do you imprint/program energy? How do you stamp it with your intent so you know it's going to do what you want it to do?

When you work spells, how do you deliver them to their target? What techniques and methods do you employ to make sure they can get to where they need to go?

Before you cast spells, how much divination or investigation do you perform to make sure the spell will be effective for your purposes? Even a perfect screwdriver will fail where a hammer is required.

Do you use traditional techniques like aligning your spells to planetary timing, gathering taglocks, casting circles, or calling quarters?

Hygiene

How often do you perform self-cleansing? Otherworldly grime can obfuscate magical power.

Have you ever cast, or had others cast for you, unblocking or unbinding spells to help open the roads of your power?

How often do you engage in managing your personal energy? For example, centering/reclaiming exercises to pull escaped energy back into yourself, or energy gathering exercises to build up personal power.

Resources

Of the people you are asking for magical help, are they all a part of the same group who carry similar worldviews and would tend to suggest the same advice?

Of the people you are asking for magical help, how many of them are able to affirm that they are mentors, teachers, spirit doctors, or consultants qualified to help people with the problem you have?

Do you have a group you can work with to practice skills, such as energy charging and energy reading?

When you cast spells, do you have someone you can send photos of the spellwork to, so they can try to perform readings or diagnosis on what's actually going on?

Reality

Have you chosen a start date for your practice (such as, "I've been a practitioner for 2 years,") but in reality you have only tried to practice magic for a very limited time (say, 1 or 2 months out of that period)? If so, is it possible that you are comparing yourself to the success of a practitioner of 2 years, instead of a practitioner of 2 months?

Does the kind of magic you believe in dictate that rigor and technique are required to achieve results? Or are you more working in the "visualize and believe" arena?

Are you comparing your successes to people who are telling the truth about their practice? Is it possible people you are comparing yourself to are not using rigorous self-assessment when they calculate their own wins?

Are you comparing your successes to people who may have been practicing for decades or more on intensive paths, or who have spent thousands of hours honing their practice within a single area?

Are you being realistic about what actual success looks like? For example, casting a protection spell, something not protected against happens, and then deciding that because something bad in general happened, the entire protection failed.

Anyway Anon, to actually answer your question: no, I don't believe some people just "can't do magic." In very rare circumstances, some people may have serious blockages or entanglements going on that must be resolved before they can do magic. Others may require less intensive spellwork like unblocking to clear the way (like idk, maybe granny prayed over you in the crib that you'd never get involved with all this evil occult stuff).

It's my experience that almost everyone who thinks they can't do magic, if they were being very honest with themselves, would have a hard time coming up with actual lists of things they have done to try to be better at magic; they have perhaps practiced for a handful of hours across several months; they are not learning core skills (like energy work, divination, or trancework); and they are not working off of tried-and-true systems, but are rather setting up camp at the intersection of every possible shortcut (clear quartz, rosemary, and roses are universal substitutes; you don't have to use any physical tools or ingredients; visualization is the same as energy raising; intent is all you need; traditional methods of targeting such as obtaining taglocks are irrelevant; casting a circle is irrelevant; magical headspace is irrelevant; building and consecrating of holy areas such as altars is irrelevant; astrological timing and places of power are irrelevant; going to great lengths to obtain or preserve power is irrelevant).

The other 3% of people pissed on a fairy tree when they were kids and need to spend a couple of months working with a mediator to rectify their relationship with the spirit world.

Do feel free to DM me, if you like.

[horse-girl-anthy]

the leading male characters of RGU have variations on the same complex: "I failed at being a prince." however, they have their own specific versions of it, which manifest in widely different behaviors. I'll run through them, basing my account of the characters on how they were at the start of the show:

Saionji is deeply troubled by Utena's despair, but then witnesses her miraculous transformation. since Touga seems to be more mature than himself, he assumes Touga must be responsible for it. Saionji begins to feel himself a child, lacking in insight; not only was he unable to save the girl in the coffin, but he couldn't even understand her plight. having caught glimpse of a world he can't enter himself, he develops an inferiority complex, which he attempts to compensate for with old-fashioned masculinity, violence, and domination of others.

Miki gets sick, and his weakness forces Kozue to go to the concert hall alone. while she learns from this experience that she requires Miki in order to shine, he comes to the conclusion that he has committed a grave sin and destroyed the sunlight garden with his own hands. this irrational belief follows him into early adolescence, and he has somehow managed to turn it around and allot blame to Kozue as well. perhaps this is because siblings do not have strong ego boundaries, or maybe it's that Miki sees Kozue's failure to be a princess as an affront to his desire to be a prince. this becomes a vicious cycle, since negative attention is good enough for Kozue, who flaunts her naughty behavior to keep Miki fixated on her.

Touga is a two-faced character who outwardly projects the version of himself that he'd like to be. in actuality, though he may not be aware of it, he is a person who wishes the world was a better, fairer place and longs to alleviate suffering. however, he learned his own weakness young; to avoid the terror of powerlessness, he is willing to do just about anything. as Saionji believes Touga saved Utena, Touga believes Akio saved Utena, and so he models himself on him. on one level, he maintains a cynical worldview in which he is justified on acting however he pleases because he has gained power, but on another (deeply buried) level, he hopes he will become a prince and set things right. unfortunately for him, his behavior is contradictory with that goal and will only serve to enforce the status quo. he copes with this using cynicism, pretending to himself that he doesn't believe in nobility anyway.

Akio is like a monstrous combination of the previous three, with one crucial difference: Akio no longer actually wishes to be a prince. he may mourn his failure, but that's a form of narcissism; he doesn't even have the commitment to despair. rather, his "sadness" is a grand show in which he is the leading character. does he have a lingering spark of care for Anthy? perhaps, but he only calls it forth for the purposes of manipulation. long ago, his weakness caused Anthy immense suffering, suffering which has never ceased since. as eternity stretched on, Akio began to think to himself, "isn't this actually her fault? she's the reason I'm no longer a prince; she stole my beloved self from me. and what's more, she isn't a princess, which means she deserves this. in fact, doesn't she actually want this? yes, it's true: both of us love the way things are, and so she will always help me to keep them this way. why, I'm so magnanimous that I'll forgive her for starting this, even though it's so hard for me to bear living in my fallen state." thus, to Akio, being a failure of a prince is a sublime torture, and the scab he's grown over his original wound has calcified, not healing but rotting what's underneath.

the question now is where does Utena fit into this schema? I don't think she's in line with the characters listed above, since she's not living her life based on a failure, but instead on determination to suceed. in that way, I think she's most similar to Ruka, at least in outlook. Ruka tries to be a prince through manipulation and coercion, which is of course doomed to failure, but he is staking his life on his desire to be a prince. Utena, after overcoming her own hurdles, does the same.

[whatdidtheydotomygirljinx]

the problem is that it's so hard to really analyze anything about arcane, and draw any conclusions about the story, because of the way it was written and conceived in the first place.

to the people who're like "yeah season 2 was bad, but season 1 was a MASTERPIECE in story writing and PERFECT in every way", that's just not true. the cracks were already there in season 1. there's multiple things, especially overarching ones, that just don't add up, and several ways that the story progresses that seem like odd choices. the thing was that, to me, the rest of it was all so good... the small details, the contained scenes were so well done, so detailed, so touching, that i really believed that maybe those cracks were just hiccups after all, and it's not a big deal, and maybe they'll even make a lot more sense and all get tied up with a nice little bow in season 2 (ha)

to me, at this point, it seems obvious that the way season 1 came into being was that these three idiots (who should never be allowed to write anything ever again) wrote a script, that was so terrible that riot had to bring in help to fix it for them (cause they were that incapable) and then someone got handed their slop and told "save this as much as you can, but keep the main points the same", and save it THEY DID! but the overarching plot is still the original one. which is why there's this dissonance all across it.

season 1 often seems like it's trying to tell two different stories at once. the example that comes easiest to me is jinx's transformation from powder to jinx post time skip. to the people i know irl who watched it, me included, the difference between these two is jarring, to the point that it just doesn't seem realistic that powder would change that much. this is what most people's reaction to her transformation was. like, sure, she changed... but jinx is almost a completely different person. and we can sit here and analyze all we want, and say yeah, but look, in ep2 min37, powder laughs when an enforcer is hurt, so that shows that she is indeed attracted to violence even at this age, but like... first of all, im at this point fully convinced that these details were put in specifically for that, to attenuate the valley that is between powder's character and jinx's, and I also honestly feel embarrassed that i even have to do all of this at all.

other notable examples are whatever is going on between jinx and silco in their relationship. like, yeah, he was actually a good father to her... but actually, there's something weird going on between them... but actually, no... he was better than vander, but actually he was worse than vander and was actually the cause of everything bad in jinx's life..... and on, and on, because the literal story itself never actually makes up its mind on what it wants the relationship between these two characters to be. same as it never makes up its mind on whether powder was a cute, innocent kid who was just manipulated by silco, or if powder was born like that and was just looking for an opportunity to release her inner jinx. same way as it never makes up its mind on whether vi is a devoted sister, who would do anything to get powder back, as she herself says, or if she actually thinks this new enforcer chick she just met is kinda cooler, as her actual actions would indicate. does silco adopt jinx because he sees himself in her, or does he intend to use her as a weapon and then later on grows to actually care about her? there comes a point where "this is a complex story" just becomes an excuse for "we were actually working with three different ideas at once and we never really decided on which one we were gonna do and we kinda just prayed it would all work out somehow"

the one thing that arcane season 2 has on season 1 is that it doesn't suffer from any of these weird identity issues. it's bad and simplistic but it's bad and simplistic in its entirety and it doesn't ever seem interested in being anything else. the story has no continuity or congruence issues, except of course for the ghost of season 1 that haunts it, and especially haunts the writers, who so far have displayed nothing but dismay for the story that actually made this show so acclaimed, and have done all they could to bury it as much as possible in season 2.

now, personally, im a big death of the author truther. even more so in cases like these, where we're dealing with teams of people. power struggles happen in studios, and in writing rooms, and at every level of production. and these three people that have taken credit don't seem like the most emotionally (or intellectually) mature individuals.

so, to solve all these issues, just know that when im discussing or analyzing arcane, im going off the interpretation of the events that serves the story the most, and that leads to the most meaningful narrative and the one that is most worth telling. all of this weird lee and overton slop that snuck in im gonna be completely ignoring.