#im trapped in this torture forever

[pinkseas]

no bc like. is it just me or are the banshee and the original wishful aurosa outfit CRAZY complementary ???

the colors VERY obviously ofc, you have the banshee's red hair vs nikki's green, all the reds and silvers and grays and blacks vs the gold and white (even down to nikki's gold eyes vs the banshee's gray), but even beyond that just.

the roses get me so bad. both of their outfits HEAVILY incorporate them: both circlets, countless details on both dresses, both chokers, both tights and shoes.

on one hand, there are the banshee's red roses for elegance and passion (and very possibly sacrifice and martyrdom), versus nikki's golden ones for perseverance and eternity.

but beyond that, the banshee's roses bear GREAT resemblance to the desperate vines born of the dark. the ones that infected the wishing woods, born of the same power which caused the coma incidents. directly opposed by nikki's wishful aurosa, an outfit that specifically allowed her to wake the coma victims, to purify that darkness from their souls.

just. something about the banshee's extremely strong associations with death and corruption, and how she's been creating/capturing people as puppets but its clearly stated that she herself is a puppet of the dark as well. all of that death and entrapment, the warped and twisted eternity that comes with undeath in the first place.

versus nikki, who tracks the banshee down, who dances with her fearlessly, who's capable of matching her if not beating her outright in the styling competition even though the banshee is actively attempting to possess/corrupt her in the process.

we see it!! we see the banshee actively pulling nikki around like a puppet on strings, and we see nikki, halfway through, begin to Resist That Pull. to dance of her OWN accord, instead of under the banshee's influence. nikki's own ability to resist that corruption vs the wishful aurosa's ability to, at least to some degree, actively purify it.

the banshee as the sovereign of elegant and the wishful aurosa specifically as an elegant outfit. how well they compliment one another. death vs life, freedom vs control, purity vs corruption. eternal sleep vs finding eternity in waking.

[swagging-back-to]

i also feel worse about rectis's death than i do about viktors.

yeah rectis served noxus and was ambessas right hand, sure he tortured various zaunites.

but his death scene was truly brutal and you can see the emotional toll it takes on ambessa. she reacts stronger to rectis dying than she does about mel's suspected death and/or kidnapping.

[darcyolsson]

ok thinking about the infernal devices again. i think the reason why tid is almost a cult classic or at least very much adored by ppl who read it once 10 years ago is definitely because of the way it twists common ya tropes. it takes those tropes and adds extra elements to them or changes them in a way to make them more three-dimensional, which makes it interesting to read for anyone who grew up reading ya and is overly familiar with the genre and its clichés. obviously the conflict-free love triangle is the best example of this but there's also the way jessamine fits the pretty mean girl/dumb blonde trope when she is introduced, but only becomes a genuine villain when she sheds both of these roles (and eventually becomes something of an anti-hero when she falls back into them); how will fits the tortured bad boy trope but one of the main antagonists (nate) does too from jessamine's pov (and, additionally, how jessamine effectively acts as tessa's foil for their respective romances); how will/jem are introduced and function as polar opposites/counterparts but throughout the series have more and more moments where they're revealed to be very much alike to the point where will explicitly refers to them as being the same person (in the most literal sense, something that's stated at the very start of the series too but takes on a different meaning as it goes on); the way the first book seems to set up for sophie/jem but ultimately does not deliver on it; etc. etc. it's genuinely very clever but ONLY to girls who have read like 60 ya novels in the past 5 years bc it requires a knowledge of how these tropes often function in ya lit and how tid subverts them. if it did this for literally any other genre it would be a classic

[hakkkuu]

thinking about... perv best friend anton, who has always liked you but is so afraid to tell you how he felt, afraid you’ll push him away, so during your weekly movie nights, he drugged your drink...

waking up hazy after a few minutes just to see anton trying to fuck himself into you through your panties.... nibbing your nipples through your dress too.... you begged him to stop but he just wont....

cw: perv, drugs, noncon, dry humping, forced orgasm

You stir, your consciousness slowly returning as the haze of sleep lifts. The room spins momentarily, and you realize with a jolt that you're not in your own bed. The events of the night come rushing back to you. Anton's invitation for a movie night, the drink he offered, and then...darkness.

As your eyes adjust to the dimly lit room, you see Anton above you, his eyes wild and filled with a mixture of lust and fear. He's grinding his hips against you, his erection straining against your clothed body, trapped between your soft thighs. The sound of fabric rubbing against skin fills the air, creating an erotic yet disturbing melody.

"Please, Anton... stop..." Your voice is hoarse, betraying your weakness. You try to push him away, but his hands grip your wrists, holding them down above your head. His breath is hot on your face, and you can smell the tang of desire on him.

"Shh...it's too late for that," he whispers, his voice thick with anticipation. "You should've thought about this before you agreed to my little concoction."

A whimper escapes your lips as you struggle against his hold, but Anton's grip is firm, his strength surprising. You feel his hardness pressing insistently against your core, separated only by the thin layer of your panties and his boxers. The wetness of his precum has already stained your thighs, a testament to his arousal.

"You've always been so innocent," he murmurs, his lips trailing along your jawline, sending shivers down your spine despite your fear. "I couldn't resist anymore. Its your fault"

As he speaks, his hips move in a slow, torturous rhythm, rubbing against your sensitive bundle, making you gasp and arch against your will. The sensation is overwhelming, a mix of pleasure and violation. You feel your body betraying you, responding to his touch, and you hate yourself for it. You forever will.

"No... please..." Your pleas are muffled as he covers your mouth with his, kissing you forcefully. His tongue invades your mouth, mimicking the invasion of your body, and you taste the saltiness of his desire. He groans into your mouth, the sound vibrating through you, causing a strange, unwanted arousal.

Anton pulls away, his eyes gleaming with satisfaction at your reaction. "Feel that? That's what you do to me, you slut. I've dreamed of this moment, dreamed of ruining you."

His words are like a knife, twisting in your heart. You want to deny it, but the evidence is right there, pressed against your core. He's been hiding his true self, and now you're at his mercy.

"Let me show you how it feels to be truly wanted," he breathes, his lips ghosting over your ear, sending a shiver down your spine. His hips pick up a relentless pace, grinding against your clit through the damp fabric. The pleasure is intense, building with each thrust, and you find yourself moaning, caught between resistance and surrender.

"Oh, you like that, don't you?" he taunts, his voice laced with satisfaction. "I know your body, know what makes you tick. I've watched, I've waited, and now I'll take. Im tired of fucking my hand to you in secret"

With a rough tug, he tears your dress, baring your breasts. His fingers pinch your nipples, rolling and tugging, sending sparks of pleasure-pain through your body. You arch off the bed, a cry escaping your lips, as he continues to grind against your most sensitive spot.

"Anton, please... I..." Your words trail off as an intense wave of pleasure crashes over you, overwhelming your senses. Your body convulses, betraying your resistance, as he brings you to the edge and pushes you over.

"That's it... let go," he urges, his voice a low growl. "Surrender to me, to this pleasure. It's what you want, what we both want."

Your mind is a blur as he continues to stimulate your body, each touch and grind pushing you further into a maelstrom of sensations. You're aware of the wrongness of the situation, but the pleasure is too intense, clouding your judgment.

As you teeter on the edge of another climax, Anton's movements become more frantic. His breath comes in ragged gasps, and his hips slam against yours with increasing force. The sound of skin slapping against skin fills the room, a primal rhythm accompanying your shared ecstasy.

"Yes... yes..." he pants, his eyes rolling back as he finds his own release. His body trembles above you, his hot breath on your neck, as he rides out his orgasm, prolonging the sensation by grinding against you.

In the aftermath, you lie beneath him, your bodies entangled, both of you breathing heavily. The air is thick with the scent of sex and unspoken emotions. Anton's weight presses you into the bed, and you realize with a start that this is not the end but merely the beginning of a dark chapter in your friendship.

[magicalmanhattanproject]

okay so im thinking back to like. bad and baghera's little conversation about ron and morals and how that relates to forever and i think i'm getting closer to putting my finger on the fundamental disconnect between bad and forever.

like specifically, the question i'm thinking about was "would you kill an islander to get your egg back?"

baghera's answer was "i would do it, but i would be crossing a line"

i think that's what makes her different from bad and forever. bad and forever both have lines that they simply Will Not Cross

the difference is that forever's lines are moral and idealogical. he won't torture innocent people, even if they're Federation workers and he's willing to harm even his dear friend Bad to protect an innocent party. he hates the idea of being someone willing to blow up the island even more than he hates being drugged against his will and he hated that a whole fucking lot.

he cannot understand or tolerate how bad would be willing to do something as evil as imprison an innocent worker because that's one of his lines.

bad's lines are people and that's about it. he protects his family. dapper, pomme, the other eggs, forever, foolish, the french. harming his family is unthinkable to him. he holds himself back from torturing Federation workers because that might draw attention to himself that would put the eggs in the crossfire. he doesn't put mines down because an egg could die in a mine trap.

he cannot understand or tolerate how forever would be willing to lie about dapper to protect a Federation worker because that's one of his lines

in short, to forever, There Are Things You Do Not Do To People and to bad, There Are People To Whom You Do Not Do Things

this isn't something that just talking it out can fix i don't think

[nightcolorz]

Insert ramble here about Marius and Amadeo? Amadeo who can never truly “grow up” because he’s Marius’ favourite. Stifling love, the love of a lamb raised and led to slaughter. He’s so beloved but that doesn’t change the fact he ends up on the alter.

Predator & Prey by Griffin Puatu and Jonah Scott seems to fit here. “Raised for death and locked away / awaits the wretch without a name / saved by grace, the fathers hand / wear they face and guide my plan”

IM GONNA DIE THIS IS SO ACCURATE 😰😰😰

this hits so hard when u remember that little helpless child Armand’s first thought when meeting Marius was that he mistook him for a God 😰 and not in the metaphorical way he was literally like “Jesus Christ is here to rescue me”���. It makes me think of how for Armand Marius was literally every pivotal person in his life, his father his mentor his god his lover his master his teacher, and for Armand’s entire life Marius affects how he perceives his own identity and his relationships and everywhere he acts and all that he does. Meanwhile for Marius, armand was three years in a millennia. Marius loves him, but that doesn’t change that he’s nothing to him. He’s like an especially pleasant raindrop on a mountain.

There’s a metaphor that Daniel uses in the devils minion chapter that I always think about, it’s like “I’m the mortal who climbed a mountain and stumbled upon the Gods and now I’m trapped in the middle of their wars and I’ve seen to much”, and I feel like this can be twisted to fit Amadeo, in the sense that, “I was frightened and calling out for a God to save me and a selfish God answered my prayers and he’s chosen me to be his plaything forever.” But Armand is nothing if not Devoted unfortunately. And God answered his prayers, and if God wants to make him his tortured lamb then he’ll put on his prettiest face when he’s drained of blood till he’s a husk.

[tiredfox64]

Im here to offer a mavado x reader...

(I saw the one you made and here I'm feral-ing)

So another reader becoming small (now this one, you can choose how it happened, doesnt have to be potion, bro prolly made a wish to a shooting star /JOKE)

Mavado here just "shit, welp, time to smother you with my love now hehe"

Off topic: Currently drawing your oc, I'm finna get you /threat

Pequeña

Yip notes: Your timing was impeccable. I was close to panicking about something till I saw your request. Immediately my brain told me I'm not allowed to panic because I have to figure out how to do this.

Pairing: Mavado x Afab reader

Warnings‼️: mfs who are 5'2

When Mavado made a deal with Shang Tsung to get a hold of Kano he knew what he was getting himself into. He knew how deceptive the sorcerer could be. Yet he still made a deal with him so he could obtain Kano. He had to work his ass off to get that damn Black Dragon. He had to go through Sonya and Jax so he could get Kenshi. All that work to finally get Kano and torture him. However, he had to strike once the fun was done before Shang Tsung did. He sent Hsu Hao to deal with the sorcerers but got no reply. Of course, he couldn’t finish the job. Mavado had to do everything himself. Well, not fully alone. He brought you, his loyal girlfriend, to finish the job with him. He suspected Shang Tsung would have Quan Chi with him and could not risk dealing with a 2 v 1 situation.

His prediction was right. Both of the sorcerers were expecting Mavado but not you. You and your boyfriend put up a good fight. Mavado was skilled with the hookswords he stole from Kabal. You barely had to do any work.

This was a losing battle for Shang Tsung and Quan Chi. In an attempt to escape, Quan Chi decided to target you. He wasn’t focused on whichever spell he cast it just had to distract Mavado. You heard Quan Chi chant and as you went to face him you felt something hit your stomach, causing you to fly back. Mavado immediately turned around to check on you, only to see a cloud of toxic green smoke consuming you. It gave Quan Chi enough time to grab Shang Tsung and make their escape. Though Mavado lost his targets he had other matters to be concerned about. He ran over to you and tried to wave the smoke away. He couldn’t find you, not a limb or strand of hair to hint at your body still being there. But once the smoke cleared he was surprised.

You were alive but you’re…small. As small as a rat.

He knew things were going too well. Something bad was bound to happen.

He crouched down to get a better look at you. You stared up at him with big, sad eyes. He couldn’t tell if you were tearing up because of the situation or if the smoke burned your eyes.

“Am I in trouble?” You asked in a small voice.

“We are in trouble. This is not on you surprisingly.”

I don’t know what he meant by that.

Your mind hasn’t adapted to the situation so you were horrified and confused. He tried to grab you but you were so confused about what he was about to do that you decided to dodge him. Mavado doesn’t need you doing this but you have little control over the situation. He had to snatch you with both hands, trapping your arm to the side of your body and your legs dangling. You heard your boyfriend sigh before saying,

“Always so difficult.”

══💤══╡°˖✧🦊✧˖°╞══💤══

“Yes, I can see that she is small.” Daegon pointed out the obvious.

“Can’t you do anything to fix this mess?” Mavado asked.

“I am a demigod, not a miracle worker. I cannot be bothered to fix this while my brother is out there. He is a bigger issue than your little girlfriend,” pun intended, “If I know anything about sorcerers when they are in a panic, Quan Chi’s spell won’t last forever. This is not permanent.”

Mavado let out a sigh of relief but also annoyance. For once he was not happy with the Edenian but what could he do. If Daegon’s words were true that means this will all be over at some point. When that moment comes is the true concern. He doesn’t have an issue with you being small. It’s kind of funny and cute. He’s more concerned about you getting hurt by something or someone. You’re his girlfriend, he cares about you. You’re the only other thing he prioritizes other than his clan.

Since Daegon isn’t telling Mavado to do anything or go after Taven, he’ll keep his eyes on you most of the time. What else could he do?

He still had you in his hands and he decided to mess with you. You ain’t gonna do anything. You’re not gonna jump off his hands. He took this opportunity to squish your cheeks which you never let him do. He used his middle finger and thumb to squish both of your cheeks. You whined and told him to stop but did he? Nah. He just laughed at your futile attempts to push him away. Your tiny hands were unable to save you.

“You’re so pathetic. But I love you anyway.” He said before kissing you on the top of your head. That one kiss alone messed up your hair.

Now what could Mavado do with you? He’s never dealt with a tiny human before. Nobody has. He took a moment to think of how to keep you safe but not bore you. He was so lost in his thoughts that he didn’t realize he positioned you in front of his chest area. Your mind is a battlefield that you sometimes lose to. This means your impulsive thoughts come into play and you listen to them.

In short, you grabbed onto his chest hair and yanked on it. You’ve never heard him whimper in pain before. He almost crushed you in his hands because of your little stunt. He grabbed you by the back of your shirt and brought you up to his face. He did not look happy. His eyebrows were furrowed in annoyance. Huh, how have you never noticed the scars on his right eyebrow? It looks good on him.

“What have I told you about touching my chest?” Mavado asked in the calmest voice he could provide.

“…don’t yank on your chest hair.”

“And that rule still applies while you’re small.” With his other hand he used his fingers to give you the lightest flick to your forehead that he could do.

This sure will be a journey for him and you.

══💤══╡°˖✧🦊✧˖°╞══💤══

Don’t let your judgment be clouded by Mavado’s good looks. He may be your boyfriend but he is still cruel. He’s cruel in a loving way.

Now there is a reward system at play. An eye for an eye, a trade for a trade.

You want some food because you haven’t eaten since the morning? Don’t worry, Mavado will feed you, after you do something for him. You have to give him a kiss for each piece of food. The worst part is he is stingy. Here’s a bit of bread, now give him a kiss. Here’s a singular black bean, give him another kiss. Again and again, that was how your dinner went until you were full. He just likes having some control of you and feeling your little kisses on his face.

How bout a nap? A nap after a good meal is needed. Or at least Mavado needs a nap after the bs he dealt with.

You had no choice. You tried to run off the table but his arms surrounded you and trapped you close to him. He placed his head down on the table and dragged your body so that you were trapped between his cheek and arm. You struggled with all your might but you’re just wasting your energy. He told you to stop already and that your movements were awkward against his arm. You let out a sigh before accepting that there was no use. Might as well take a nap with him. You snuggled against his face, feeling his stubble scratch you. The warmth of his body calmed you till you fell asleep.

That was a good thirty minutes of sleep before Daegon slammed his fist against the table. Both you and Mavado were alerted and you were almost flung into the air when Mavado jumped up. He was about to throw down an electromagnetic mine before Daegon yelled at him.

“Throw that mine down and you will not live another day!” He grumbled something inaudible before continuing, “I need you to go. Taven is too close to us and I need him eliminated now.”

Mavado wanted to ask what he should do with you but Daegon was already on the move. He can’t leave you alone. Anything could happen to you. But bringing you along would be just as dangerous. Hmmm

…

You saw him look at his trench coat, specifically the inside. Well, would you look at that! There’s a pocket on the inside. How convenient. Without much discussion, he picked you up and placed you in the pocket. You’re as snug as a bug in there.

“I can’t promise you won’t get hurt but I need you to be strong for me. Do you think you could do that?” He asked.

You gave him a thumbs up. He kissed the top of your head before concealing you. He took off running, doing his duties for his clan. Just don’t pull on his chest hair again while you’re hiding.

“Ah! Stop pulling!”

What did I just say?!

Yap notes: Every time I do something for you I get a bloody nose. I don't know why and I don't know how. But I think if I don't finish something for you I'll keep bleeding. Only now does everything about me feel better. So your threats are real I think even though they are for my oc. Adiós!

[dramaturgydrakes]

of things i have little power over

odysseus has been on ogygia for a long, long time. hermes pays a visit.

words : 1,111

content warnings : very vaguely implied sa, odysseus being sad

notes : im not going to torture myself w mega fancy talk this is epic fanfiction.. also im very nervous about posting this and am aware that its kinda overly self-indulgent and not like. character-accurate. but wtv great grandpa hermes

the soft pat of feet connecting with sand behind him is different than usual.

“i thought i told you i needed some space,” he says anyway. they’re the only two people on the island, after all.

“i’ll stop by in another five years, then.”

he tenses. has he started to hallucinate again? but, no—

hermes crosses his legs on the white beach, seating himself next to odysseus and casting his head in the same direction—out towards the endless sea.

odysseus’s mind has cast many illusions upon him in the past years. a god’s presence, however—it is undeniable. ultimate. every part of him resonates with certainty.

hermes is here.

he doesn’t know where the god is really looking. little wings cover the upper half of his face; an obstacle meaningless to a divine entity whose true form is boundless energy. the immortal says it’s for the aesthetic, whatever that means.

“i haven’t seen you in forever,” is all odysseus can bring himself to say.

hermes makes a sound without certain definition. “and i see you every day,” he responds. somewhere in his voice, odysseus hears a mournful pain that he could never imagine a deity suffering.

he doesn’t know how to process that. he traces a finger through the sand. “why are you here?” his brow pinches with an upwards glance. “a message?”

one of the wings beneath hermes’ ears flicks, and he hums. “someday,” he says. it’s hopeful, almost. “i’ll see to it. but for now,” and he turns his head so it’s certain his eyes are on odysseus, wings guarding them or not, the smile he’d been wearing now less strained, “can’t i just visit my favorite great-grandson?”

the sound odysseus lets out is something bitter and utterly wrecked. he hasn’t the mind to call it a laugh.

“time really is fickle to the gods if you’re only here now,” he sighs, placing his chin on crossed arms that he’s left draped over his knees. hermes’ smile drops an inch or so.

“i’m sorry,” the god, the immortal, the deity, the all-powerful, who need not have regrets, tells him. “it wasn’t lack of care that kept me away, i…” he shakes his head, expression grim. “it’s unfair to burden you with my excuses.”

odysseus doesn’t want them. hermes doesn’t give them.

“i wish i could take the suffering from you.” odysseus flinches, and the words are quickly rectified. “i mean that… i wish my words meant more to my father. that you weren’t trapped here, if any place at all. that he wasn’t so cruel and inconsiderate to—”

he cuts in like scissors snipping apart a string, hermes’ voice falling away in time with his rising. “to leave me with her.” just the thought has him blinking away stray tears, stomach rolling. “i know. you’re not cruel, hermes. you have more kindness than most gods i’ve had the time to meet.”

hermes is silent.

odysseus once thought that a god was either filled with rage, or their emotions simply remained imperceivable.

it’s just their way, he had told himself, under the cold eye of athena, who never took less than perfection in his every thought and every step.

it’s just their way, he had told himself, when zeus stared him down and expected him to either end the short life of an infant or allow for his life to crumble away.

it’s just their way, he had told himself, as great, mountainous boulders crushed eleven of his ships, while poseidon watched and waited for the perfect moment to end his life.

it’s just their way, he had told himself, when he was again faced by zeus, and had his hand forced in choosing who was to live and who was to die.

but hermes’ guilt—his sorrow, his grief for one of his family’s pain… it feels as though odysseus could take it into his hands and hold it; turn it over and examine every facet, every scratch, every bump and nook, like a jewel not wholly refined.

it’s overwhelming in ways he can’t comprehend, perhaps just for his mortality. and, yet, at the same time, there’s what he could believe to be relief swelling inside him, knowing that there is someone who cares.

the edge of a wing from hermes’ lower back brushes over odysseus’s shoulder, the offer of an embrace hovering in the quiet air.

he relaxes as much as he can, and lets himself be pulled in. it’s the strangest thing, being pressed to the side of an immortal whom he had believed held no real care for him, half-wrapped in fluffy white feathers.

it stretches on, the silence. he isn’t sure if time really passes, or if it’s just the feeling of eternity—but the sun is beginning to set, so he supposes that it must.

“of the things i have little power over,” hermes says as the water is painted red, soft and near inaudible, “i think this is the one that hurts me the most.”

he shifts, and odysseus moves with him.

“but i do have plenty of power over this.”

for the first time in years, odysseus is hugged and held in arms that do not make him ill.

he did not think the gods to be affectionate. not even hermes. and, yet… maybe his pain is enough to take what he didn’t think he could be given, without question, just this once.

he finds tears running down his face when they part, and hermes smiles in a nervous, apologetic sort of way, gently patting his head. “i may try,” he says, “but i’m not that good at this. gods… gods were never really built to be parents. or great-grandparents.” odysseus sees milky golden eyes peek out from under small wings, but they’re quickly hidden away again as the god sighs heavily. “there are no words to describe how sorry i am. perhaps because gods are not built for apologies either.”

while hermes’ laugh is dry, odysseus feels a smile tug his lips. it’s surreal, how this whole evening has so deeply subverted his perception of his divine ancestor.

a god cares about him. a god cares about him without expecting perfection in return. a god cares.

a hand grasps his shoulder. “if you call to me,” hermes tells him, “i’ll come. for any reason that you need me. i will suffer every ounce of my father’s wrath if it means you are not left alone here.”

the wings lift away, and though his eyes are nothing but pure golden-white, odysseus still searches them.

and he still finds sincerity.

so, he tries his best to smile, weak and wobbly as it is.

“thank you, hermes.”

[howlsofbloodhounds]

You know, I think Killer getting reunited with his brother after his escape with Color would be really interesting, whether it goes well or horribly wrong.

If it goes well, it would be really interesting to see how Something New Paps deals with Killer not really being his brother (though I am of the idea that he'd love Killer for Killer as well. I just also think it would mean him grieving his brother yet again. This time knowing he'll never have his brother back). It would also be cool to see how he'd get along with the Epic Sanses. I also really would love to see explored what his tentative new dynamic with Killer might be, and how that may change Killer's dynamic with the others too (would he be less codependent with Color with Paps in the picture? Or would he just become dependent on both?).

If it goes horribly, well, it would be interesting to see exactly how horribly. Would Killer panic enough to kill him again? How would he react to that after so long? Would Killer even believe that that's his brother? Would he just deny everything and turn away and then be haunted by the possibilities forever?

I just hhhhhhhh. I've been thinking about them so much. I've never see content about them explored, ever, and the possibilities are giving me brainrot

Yes! This is the stuff I want to see with killer from this fandom. Not more of the same! Let me watch these doomed siblings suffer or heal. The angst having to grief the person you never knew you lost while they’re right in front of you, looking at you, looking through you—only it’s something else with your loved one’s face. Uncanny valley im telling you.

I personally think Papyrus will have a difficult time actually accepting that his brother is gone. Hed subconsciously see signs in Killer—same smile, same twist of the corner of the mouth even if the nature of the smile is different from when Sans told an awful pun, because now Killer is smiling like that when he tells horrible stories he seems to think aren’t horrific at all.

I think how this reunion unfolds definitely depends on the exact situation. If Killer is still trapped under Nightmare or not, or if Color has rescued him.

And if Papyrus has any memory of what Killer did to him and everyone else—because Killer did spend years upon years murdering and horrifically torturing Papyrus and all the others as if they were nothing more than toys.

Killer could look at him, and all Papyrus could see is that empty, dead eyed look as he screams and cries while Killer breaks his bones. As if Killer didn’t recognize who Papyrus was, and if he didn’t care who he was.

And Papyrus, how his reactions during those times could’ve affected Killer. He was in unimaginable pain, terror, and confusion. Hatred and anger and spite are understandable reactions. What are some things he might’ve said to Killer during these moments that stuck with Killer? Begging and pleading, cursing and screaming? Attempting to get Sans to “remember who he is”?

As the world Reset around Killer, did others eventually start changing too? Even if only in small easily missed ways, even if they forgot by the next Reset. Chara and Killer were always in search of something new, after all.

Could Killer trust himself at all around Papyrus? Or would he immediately start thinking about how he has killed him before, how Papyrus could be here for revenge or even worse—for Sans.

Would some part of Killer despise Papyrus for being weak enough to forgive him, just like he always did for the human? Would Killer feel the need to kill Papyrus again—believing it’s what it has to do to prevent something even worse (Stage 4), or perhaps out of panic as you mentioned, or even that anger at Papyrus or just the unimaginable confusion and stress and pain that Papyrus’ presence brings (Stage 3).

Would Papyrus’ presence disjoint Killer’s “placement” in time.

Would seeing him make Killer think he’s back in the Underground with Chara, and thus Papyrus is another enemy he has to deal with. Would he be unable to accept that the Papyrus in front of him is his Papyrus, or would he think it’s just one Papyrus out of a gazillion more, and therefore not worth wasting energy on?

I can definitely see Stage 1 being reluctant to actually be around Papyrus. Not because he hates him or is disgusted by his “weakness” and not even because he thinks he has to kill Papyrus—although he’s very aware that some parts of him very likely do think those things—not only because he can’t trust his own mind, his own desires, but also because he just..feels horrible around Papyrus.

He idealized this image of Papyrus and the life he thinks they used to have, but he has changed. He has done a lot of things. He couldn’t even accept a hug from Papyrus for very long without pushing him away in tears. I think he’d definitely benefit from having his brother back in his life, although I doubt it’d be a very frequent thing.

I can see many instances where guilt, fear, and shame just leads to him trying to “hide” from his emotions in Stage 2, which leads to the usual avoidance behaviors. Which may also lead to him subconsciously blaming Papyrus for being able to have any effect on him at all—given how Stage 2 views it when situations and people are able to make him “feel” anything. As if they are attempting to control him.

So many interesting possibilities—especially given how much Papyrus may know. How much knowledge is he working off?

{ @stellocchia }

[moonshynecybin]

what are your favorite aus you’ve ever come up with?

GOOD question i've churned out quite a few and i dont think i've ever lumped em together... uh full disclosure a lot of my fav aus were collabs or asks sent by my lovely mutuals :) they rule and are probably my faves so i'll lead with those

FCO: forced coming out au... she's maina @kingofthering and i's baby. marc and vale caught fucking in an alleyway a few months after the sepang fallout and vale comes forward to fake date marc in order to keep him from losing his ride... very much about the violence of fame and vale sort of using his influence with the media to PROTECT marc rather than harm him. a fun time with lots of fraught fake dating your ex situations. visuals here

same age au: elle @lestelledreams dropped this in my lap because shes a genius ! and two fics on ao3 were written about it which is CRAZY. basic premise is how it sounds: marc marquez is born in 1979 and they spend their early years doing a very codependent little rivalry/first love dance that gets cracked the fuck open right around the time of marc's arm injury. sweet and very y2k and very about them being stupid overly-competitve teens with REALLY different vibes and sort of. only being able to identify with each other i love it a lot

kayaking/whitewater au: niche sport forever i think about her all the time. kind of my own way to excise some personal feelings as a girl who quit doing a death sport as a teen and then kind of continued working in the same industry as said deathsport and who's brother's lack of little danger voice in his head wrt to the sport reads very marc to me. also im tortured because i simply think they would be very good at it. marc let me get you in a half-slice hard boat pspspsps... and tbh they just fit the vibe. need vale to meet an old man kayaker its the fookin same

reporter au: yayyyyy i love mess. this one is more about saw trapping these fools im like hmm what would hurt marc a LOT. oh never being able to ride only being able to interact with the sport from the other side of the proverbial glass. what would hurt vale a LOT. oh being in love with a REPORTER. lots of half chances and repressed anger and being kind of damaged so you blow your relationships the fuck up. also a sepang-esque scenario that dials in on marc's vindictive streak through it all which i enjoy. my wife is a bitch.

teen mom au: marc with a liddle baby. vale being kind of psycho. what more could you want

bridgerton au: their weird older sibling slay and repressed freak ass horny selves. thank you.

proximity au and emotional bond transference: theres a post missing from this tag and i cant find it :( anywayssss if they arent gonna feel empathy towards each other im going to MAKE them as a sort of benevolent god

amnesia au: i think about this one literally all the time. time travel too its like. the fantasy of erasing their past. for BOTH of them. reset button. but the thing is you CANT... and maybe you dont even WANT to.... also a marc saw trap bc SO much has changed for him…

fantasy au: i think marc would look hot in a doublet and the academy guys as a sort of. fail knights of the roundtable is good 2 me. fun exploration of marc and injury in many ways just add some swords and class dynamics

anastasia au: one of the OGs. don bluth animation.....

threesome au: :3333 lets get nasty.. actually theres two :3

[37q]

i do so much dismissal of my perceived faults by acting like its an inevitable product of my background but its not even particularly unique or tragic.

idk if im on the "resilience as a psychiatric metric" bandwagon but i do think two people with utterly no extrinsic emotional conditioning can internalize one event in euphoric or torturous ways. and i dont think its like easily attributed to "biology" unless my audience is willing to concede that anything is everything its "not" too.

actually maybe im just making 'emotional conditioning' out to be something more discrete than it rly is, so im underestimating its permeation from biographical preface onwards.

anyways im always like "oh someone who [doesnt have my background] could do the thing i want to do. its something permanent inside of me thats holding me back. those people doing what they want arent bogged down by [my background]" and i think thats just so simply and easily disprovable. but i most likely engage in that because changing myself feels harder than being miserable forever. which is also easily disprovable.

ahh i just discourage myself and instead of confronting the urge for discouragement i take the easy disempowered way out. i get so caught up in the apparent impossibility of my limitations that i overwhelm myself with possibilities for expansion and give up. no responsibility whatsoever i can just kick back and rot 🤤

finally, another rebuttal to myself (thanks for witnessing my externalized internal dialogue), the premise of "perceived faults" is already a faulty (hehe) one. and calling them faults gets them all caught up in cyclic traps of shame. i wonder tho if the conceptualization leads to the self sabotage or if its a post hoc rationalization of behavior

[epicvampiretime]

its so funny bc when i was a kid i was like ‘im a boy uwu!! i use he/him pronouns and i like kokichi (specifically) from danganronpa! i am 12 uears old :)’ but now its like

‘my body is alien to me. i am disgusted by these parts, but i am forced to live as this. i dont recognize the person i see in the mirror, and i dont believe that i ever did. words cannot even begin to describe the misery i feel. i am trapped. cursed to forever live as someone i am not. death would be a mercy, yes, and i long for it. and yet, i am afraid to die. knowing i would be remembered as someone i am not. the concept of ‘girlhood’ sounds monsterous and grotesque. this constant, unending state of torture. i am seen as less than human by others. inherently rejected for who i truly am. i am the villiage monster. also i still like kokichi from danganronpa.’

[bearfrosts]

the way i show my love for hollyleaf and leafpool is coming up with an elaborate alternate universe following TLH where both of them get psychologically tortured by every possible worst case scenario ever.

the main thing i changed for leafpool is that she just keeps living. i want her to be the oldest cat in thunderclan. she deserves a break but she doesn't get one because her body just keeps going until everyone she loves is long gone and maybe even their children, too.

as for hollyleaf, well...she survives the battle and becomes leader of TC after bramble fucks off with jessy (squirrel doesn't deserve him trying to get her back again). im going to mentally torture her and drive her to manic paranoia to an even more severe degree than bluestar. im gonna bring sol and ashfur back to haunt her. i'm going to make her SUFFER. and then she's going to die in the tunnels and her ghost will be trapped there forever.

[awkwardtickleetoo]

You can thank my tickle dreams for this one. (I just so happened to be really ler for George last night)

I feel like George can't handle teases about him being trapped. I'll use Sapnap as an example because he's closest to me. So in the dream George is pretty much just annoying him like a little brother would which earns him a clawed hand to the side of his ribs. He squirms a bit away so his hand jumps to the other set of ribs which catches him off guard. When he tries to get up Sapnap pulls him back down and is now sporadically getting every spot he can reach, not pinning him in any way, just pulling him back when he tries to roll away or get up. Just repeating "Oohhh, you can't get away~! You get get awaaayy~! You're trapped~! You're stuck here~! You can't get out~!" Things like that and George can't even for rebuttals, all he can do is just let out little yells in protest

funnily enough these are actually some of my favorite teases for george as well omg

bc it’s just true right???? like he would fucking. HATE that shit it would get him soooo bad, poor baby :((( he just gets so blushy and shy and nervous bc he knows it’s true so he can’t deny it or he’ll be proven wrong, which means literal torture most times, but even if he wanted to deny it he can’t bring himself to bc he’s so giddy he can barely form words other than whiny little “no!! :(“s and “shut up!!”s and so on

and like. you know george would love being thrown around like a little ragdoll, squirming in sapnap’s arms and trying to push at his hands or shoulders or head or anything like that, it would make him soooo much more giggly and squirmy and nervous and excited that it would make it even harder for him to escape. and sap knows that, so he plays it up even more than he already would, moving his hands around and grabbing george in such stupid ways, maneuvering him into whatever position he wants (especially ones that make it harder for george to get out, bc he knows he loves it), and teasing him non stop as he does so

especially when he over exaggerates it, george loves that too but it gets him so so embarrassed and bashful, which only eggs sap on, of course, how could it not when george is so damn cute when he’s embarrassed????

it’s like clockwork each time too: george annoys him, sap grabs at his ribs or sides or thighs or wherever he happens to feel like that time, george immediately backpedals and does the “no don’t!! i didn’t mean it i’ll stop i’ll stop!!” that does absolutely nothing, and then sap is pulling him into his lap and latching onto his hips <3 and george knowsssss its coming too so he’s immediately squirming and yelling before he falls into helpless laughter and fights to pry sapnap’s hands away

but then sap says “aww, where are you going? you think you’re gonna get away?? that’s so cute, poor baby thinks he can get away :(“ and now he has to struggle picking between hiding his face and shoving sapnap away, which. is not helping his escape attempt. bc how is he supposed to not cover his face when sapnap keeps teasing him exactly how he knows will get him!!! all “you’re stuck with me forever!!!” and “you’re never getting away!!” and “aw, georgie, i bet it tickles so much more when you’re trapped like this, doesn’t it, cutie?” and he’s just. a goner. all he can do is shake his head and laugh and squeak out “im sorry!!!” every so often in the hopes that sapnap will take pity on him (even tho his incredibly happy giggles ruin the apologetic words)

and sapnap knows the difference between george “squirming to get away” and george actually squirming to get away, so he knows when to stop– even if he pushes a little bit further just to hear george’s desperate pleads before he decides he’s had enough.

as george calms down, sapnap stays clung onto him, wrapping his arms and legs around him like a koala and letting george fall into another round of giggles as he playfully shoves at him again and complains that he’s “gross” or “stupid” or the occasional “let me go sapnap i hate you im not kidding” that earns him a hearty laugh from sapnap as he squeezes him tighter. they usually chill like that for a while after, sometimes with some additional gentle tickles if george is still in the mood for them (or if he happens to want sapnap to have a taste of his own medicine, which does happen, but only lasts for a little while as sapnap is much, much stronger than george no matter what the situation is).

usually they’ll watch a show after, sometimes on the couch but sometimes going into one of their rooms, and sometimes even ending the playful night with one or both of them falling asleep, but they both love every part of it no matter how it ends up going <3

[pettytheftisntthatbad]

hey. i’m an agent who worked closely alongside Peter Strahm- i heard about your fathers case. the only details im aware of (and are allowed to tell you) is that he was a victim of a Saw trap for a short period of time, and did not survive the trap. we found bullet wounds inflicted on not only him, but several other people at the scene. he didn’t go down without a fight. he was a strong man, sweetheart. you’re lucky to be his son.

- Special Agent Evoke

No, you’re shitting me right? He’s been gone forever. It wasn’t a short time. If he died- if he died he died after being fucking tortured. Look into it again. What aren’t you allowed to tell me. He’s my dad! This isn’t fair, I have a fucking right to know

[chrollogy]

sweet moans muffled by your fingers and glossy golden eyes staring up at you on the brink of tears - by god what a pretty fox you’d scored. tail swishing back and forth, and his ears pinned back helplessly, he was almost a masterpiece you could stare at all day. no, scratch that, you definitely could stare at this sight all day.

atsumu crosses his ankles behind you, trapping you between those muscular thighs he was so proud of, when he wasn’t stuffed full, that is. your spare hand wrapped around the base of his sensitive cock, not missing a drop of precum that beads at the tip as it bounces against his abdomen with every thrust, every miniscule movement of you adjusting yourself so you can reach deeper.

he’s usually such a clean fox, preening his fur and meticulous about his diet but when he’s sucking in your fingers, his tongue dancing around the digits messily, there’s drool smeared on his swollen lips and chin. he just can’t help it, he wants to make you proud and he knows you’ll help him clean up afterwards.

you could almost stay here forever, your strap buried in him while you take in the abstract piece in front of you. bite marks litter his pale skin, red and purple hickeys covering every other space in a frantic claim of ownership - and also a subtle nod to atsumu’s freakish love for being bitten.

sadly though, he does have volleyball games to win and you do have cheerleading to do from the bleachers so i guess today you feel nice enough to let him cum, to paint the canvas of his chest in pretty white ropes of sticky seed.

short payback for the public execution you gave me !! 🌷

IT HASN’T EVEN BEEN TWENTY FOUR HOURS SINCE THE LAST ONE ‼️‼️

they are torturing me so bad im having eseggs in the server and i’m getting this on tumblr what is life. i am getting targeted left n right