#is this funny to literally anyone else????

[eveningdawn222]

people who act like batman isn't "judge jury and executioner" because he doesn't kill people are like. genuinely so funny to me because. they're very obviously thinking of "executioner" as like. the stereotypical guy with axe who chops people heads off, and not, yknow, the literal definition of the idiom itself, which is about someone who has the ability to judge and then subsequently punish someone unilaterally. which is quite literally what batman does.

he has the ability to decide what is a "crime" to him, he is the one who decides whether people are guilty of those crimes, and he is the one who executes their punishment. the severity of the punishment doesn't matter - he is unaccountable to anyone else, and indeed is allowed to commit as many crimes as needed to reach his arbitrary ideal of "justice."

the ideal of batman is this: a man who is so fundamentally changed by an act of senseless violence that he takes it upon himself to fight back against the rot and corruption in the world. he does this not through political activism, not through ridding himself of his wealth in favor of a greater good, not through community outreach, but through an individualistic fantasy of being a hero.

and you'll say: charlie, but he does do that !!! he donates his money all the time, he funds social programs, hospitals, orphanages, gets people jobs -

and i will say this: so why don't things get better?

because here's the base of it. gotham, at its core, can't get better. no matter what bruce wayne does, there will always be more crime, more villains, more death, more people for batman to beat up in back alleys. because that's what sells.

reoffending rates don't matter in gotham, prison reform doesn't matter in gotham, what actually causes crime doesn't matter in gotham because that doesn't sell books.

and so here it is; dc has unintentionally created a world where batman can't win, but can't be wrong, and where thousands of nameless, faceless, only-created-to-die civilians must be pushed into the meat grinder that is gotham, to fuel bruce wayne's angst and vindicate his constant, tireless, noble fight against the forces of evil.

and then: a new robin, who is poor and who's parents are dead or gone because of this cycle; who is happy go-lucky and hated by editors and fans for being robin, for not being dick grayson, for being poor.

and this robin is written, unintentionally or not, to be angry at the ways in which batman's (the narrative's) idea of justice is detached from its victims. bruce seems perfectly fine to allow countless unnamed women to be at risk from garzonas in his home country, yet robin is the one who is portrayed as irrational and violent.

this robin is not detached from gotham in the way bruce wayne is: this robin is a product of gotham.

(and here's the thing. you can't punch aids. you can't fight a disease with colorful fights and nifty gadgets. and how would robin dying from aids add to batman's story; it would call into question the systemic changes that haven't been made in gotham. how does a child get aids, in batman's city?)

so robin dies, and then bruce (the narrative) spends the next couple of decades blaming it on him. it is jason's fault; he was reckless, he just ran in, he thought it was all a game. if only bruce had seen what was coming, if only he could have known that jason wasn't rich enough or smart enough or liked enough to be robin.

batman gets a little more violent, a little more self destructive. he hurts people more and almost (!!) kills a couple guys. this is bad because it's self destructive and "not who he is." it is not bad because batman should not be able to just beat people up when he's angry.

and then he gets a shiny new robin - who is all the things jason "wasn't": rich and smart and rational and he doesn't put who batman is into question. batman and robin are partners, and jason is a grave and a cautionary tale, and (crucially here) never right.

the joker kills thousands and it doesn't matter because they were written to be killed.

batman beats up thousands and it doesn't matter because they were written to be criminals.

and then jason comes back, and nothing has changed. there is a batman and a (shiny! rich!) robin and the joker kills thousands. (because it sells)

and jason is angry - he has been left unavenged - his death has meant nothing, just as willis' had, just as catherine's had, just as gloria's had, just as -

thousands. ten of thousands. hundreds of thousands. written to be killed.

but one of them gets to come back.

and he is angry - not only at the joker, but at bruce (the narrative) - because why is the joker still alive (when thousands-)

here is the thing - jason todd is right. not because the death penalty is good, not because criminals deserve to die, not because of everything he says -

but because of what he calls into question. why is the joker alive?

because he sells books.

and dc has written a masterful character, through no fault of their own, because jason knows what is wrong, and he knows who is at fault - batman. (the narrative)

so the argument that bruce can't kill because he's not judge jury and executioner; the argument that jason is a cop or that jason is insane or that jason is in the wrong here; they hold no weight.

batman can't kill the joker because the joker sells comic books.

and jason can't kill the joker because the joker sells comic books.

so he will beg and plead and grovel - he will betray everything that is himself, he will forsake his family and his city and kill himself - just so that bruce (the narrative) will let the joker die.

he was condemned to death by an audience, and after he came back he has spent his whole life looking us in the eyes and screaming, asking, pleading; why is the joker still alive?

why are thousands, tens of thousands, hundreds of thousands (the number doesn't matter, see, because they're just a number. not people. not real.) why are we expendable for his story? why did i have to die just for nothing to change?

and the answer is money. and the answer is the batman can never be wrong. and the answer is shitty writing. and the answer is -

nothing jason can ever change.

which is the worst of it all. he is a victim with no power, and no one else in the world can see it. he is raging and crying and screaming at his father and his writers and you - and it doesn't matter. jason doesn't matter. and he knows it.

[audliminal]

Survivability Bias Pt 4

Masterpost Ao3

“Cassiopeia,” Danny murmurs, his eyes never leaving the glimmering void above him. “Though epsilon looks dimmer than it usually is. I wonder if it still has a ring...” Around him, the world is shadowed, the distant lights of cities visible on the horizon but not bright enough to truly disrupt his view of the night sky. It had been a bit nerve-wracking leaving the town, but he’d been making an effort to lay low for the last week, and had seen nothing to indicate anyone was coming to search for him. The idea of visiting the firefighters still makes his skin itch, but a little trip to stargaze had started seeming like a reasonable risk to take, and with the calm expanse of void above him, Danny can feel something deep inside of him settle. The buzz of fear that’s been around since before he even got here evaporates, as he counts the stars and constellations. They’re not all the same, Cygnus seems to be mostly missing, and a few of the individual stars Danny remembers seem to be gone, but for the most part, it’s the same. Certainly more familiar than anything else has been so far. The technology here is all far more advanced than anything Danny’s seen before, which is ironic considering the portal.

It’s funny, really that he can be this far away from home (a literally incalculable distance), and the stars are still generally the same. Even the ones that are new are still stars; still the same burning masses fueled by fusion and gravity, and feeding the universe at large with new material. They're still millions of light-years away, and yet they’ve been there for so long, streaming their light into a void, where it can eventually reach this very spot where Danny’s currently standing. All his problems seem so small in the face of the great expanse of space.

“Amazing!” Danny exclaims, letting himself just laugh with delight. Maybe he’s alone here, but has he ever felt this free before? Nobody to drag him away, or force him into fights, or yell at him about the chores he hasn’t done yet. Hell, if he really wanted to, he just take off, go hang out in space, maybe fly until he finds one of those alien planets that he’d seen mentioned on Wikipedia. Sure, it would probably take a stupid amount of time to get there, but he could , if he wanted.

Behind him, there’s a rush of air, and the sound of a person taking a breath, and Danny tears his gaze away from the stars, flipping himself into a fighting stance as he runs through the list of heroes he’d read about, trying to remember which of them could fly. As he turns, his eyes lock on to another boy, though, that looks to be close to Danny’s own age.

“Woah, dude.” The boy says, holding his hands up and floating a few feet backwards. “I’m not here to fight?”

“Then why are you here?” Danny asks. He is just a kid, so like, maybe , it’s safe, but also the symbol on the kids chest is the same one Superman was wearing, so he could just be a recruit or something.

“I dunno, man, I just heard you talking and got curious? Not exactly many people around that can just hang out in the sky, you know. I can leave if you want.” The other  boy’s expression seems sincere. Mostly he looks startled and a bit uncertain, and deeply unlike the weird, heroic, confident posture that Superman seemed to have in every picture. This guy looks like he’s trying to look confident, sure, but not like he actually is .

“You’re not Superman, but you’re wearing his logo.” Danny says. Dropping his stance, but not letting himself fully relax. Just because it’s not a fight, doesn’t mean he’s safe, after all.

“Yeah, uh, I’m Superboy.”

“Superboy,” Danny echoes. “I read something about sidekicks? Is that-” Danny cuts himself off when the other boy winces.

“No, I’m not his sidekick. More like he’s helping to train me. We’ve got the same powers, so... Yeah.”

“Huh. Training sounds... Nice? What’s that like?” Honestly, training sounds downright miraculous. Danny hasn’t been able to stop thinking about the destruction caused by the train crash, and how everyone in Amity had always complained about the damage caused by ghost fights. He hasn’t forgotten how much he’d gotten himself hurt in those early days either, not that anyone else had ever noticed that bit.

“Yeah, I guess it’s nice. I take it you don’t have a mentor, then?”

“I’m not a hero.”

“No? I thought- I mean, you look a lot like the description of the guy who helped with the train crash over in Concord.” Superboy frowns, glancing off in the direction of Danny’s hometown.

“I mean, yeah that was me but I’m not. I don’t wanna fight anyone.”

“Oh, yeah that’s totally fair.” Superboy immediately responds with a laugh. “Honestly most of what we do isn’t actually fighting people, so y’know. You don’t have to be a fighter to be a hero.”

“Oh.” That kinda makes sense. After all, Danny had done a lot of fighting back home, and nobody had called him a hero there.

“Yeah, it’s like. There’s a lot of stuff about emergency response and civilian rescue and stuff. Hell, from what I understand half of what the Bats do is just, like detective work. That’s a lot of what my training’s for, actually. I’m pretty good at destroying stuff, I guess, but Supes says I need better control, before I can be trusted to handle relief stuff, because I might accidentally hurt people with my strength or something.”

“That’s. Cool, I guess?” Danny risks a glance up at the stars. No attack comes with Danny’s split attention, though after a moment, Superboy slowly floats over to his side.

“What are you looking at?”

“The stars.”

“Just, like, in general?” Superboy asks. He sounds dubious, and Danny can feel him glancing between him and the sky every couple seconds.

“What, have you never gone stargazing before?” 

Superboy doesn’t say anything for a minute, and Danny glances over. The false confidence has completely evaporated from the other boy’s expression, and instead he just looks unsure.

“I’ve never really had the opportunity before.” Superboy finally murmurs, quieter than any of their conversation so far.

“Well, I guess you’re in luck!” Danny says, offering his new companion a smile. “Because I’m something of an expert in it!” And Danny begins to point to the different constellations, and tell Superboy as much as he can about all the stars and planets above them.

“You really are an expert, huh?” Superboy eventually says, in the middle of Danny’s tangent about why Pluto isn’t considered a planet anymore. That had been one of his most interesting discoveries in his Wikipedia explorations. He’d been kind of surprised at first when it hadn’t shown up on the list of planets, but he’d specifically searched for it, he’d learned about it’s reclassification, along with all the reasoning behind it. He’d been a little sad at first, but the realization that it came alongside the implication about a whole number of other bodies orbiting their sun had been exciting in it’s own way.

“Yeah,” Danny responds with a laugh. “I, uh, really like space. I actually wanted to be an astronaut as a kid.”

“But you don’t want to be one now?”

“I mean,” Danny hums. “It’d be nice, but I don’t think it’s really a plausible goal anymore. It- the way I got my powers came with some... complications. And anyway I kind of don’t legally exist anymore, so it’s. I can’t even go to space camp, let alone go to actual space.”

“Is that, uh, why you don’t have a normal heart beat? I didn’t wanna ask and be rude, but like, you sound kinda like a really large bee.”

“Yeah, that’s, um. I mean I’ve never been called a bee before, but yeah.”

“Wild. But like, if it’s meta stuff, then aren’t they legally not allowed to discriminate against you for it? They’re not just gonna be like ‘oh you don’t have a heartbeat guess you can’t go to space.’”

“I mean, there was, like, a meta scholarship on the website, but...”

“You’re worried about revealing your identity.”

“Yeah, pretty much.”

“Well, that’s fixable. I mean, I didn’t have an identity to even reveal until this year, so the Justice League can definitely-”

“I don’t want them to know about me,” Danny interrupts.

“Oh.” Superboy says. “Well, what about just, like one person? Because Robin could definitely make you a whole new identity all by himself, and I know he has no qualms about keeping shit secret from everyone else.”

“Robin.” Danny thinks he remembers that name being referenced in relation to Batman. Something about a boy wonder. “Is he our age?”

“Yeah.” Superboy looks excited. “I could introduce you sometime if you want?”

“I dunno.” Even one Justice League associate knowing about him is concerning, and if Superboy knows about the thing with the train, then probably the adult members do too.

“Well, you don’t have to decide now! I have super hearing so if you call my name I’m almost guaranteed to hear it!”

“You can just hear me anytime?” Danny asks.

“Oh, uh. I mean technically yes? But generally it’s like effort to just tune into one person from a distance. But I listen for anybody calling for me, in case they need help or whatever, so I’m always kind of listening for that.”

“I’’ll keep that in mind, I guess.”

“Right. Uh, do you wanna tell me more about the planets?”

[maxdibert]

Hello, I've been following you for some time and I love your posts and analyzes about Severus, I regularly update your blog hoping for more and I always wanted to send you something, but I never had the opportunity.

But recently I saw a video on TikTok, which I didn't pay much attention to, but I saw the comments and one of them talked about how if Harry was a woman and looked like Lily, Severus would be a pedophile and that that gave people the creeps. And I, personally, find this statement very funny, because as far as I remember, Snape never had inappropriate contact with any Hogwarts student, or with anyone, in fact. But people intentionally forget that the only person who had the opening to do this was Peter Pettigrew. Ron himself said that they slept together and, probably, Peter saw the boys, literal children, changing their clothes, but, obviously, it would be Snape who was the child predator.

Sorry if it wasn't very understandable, English isn't my first language and I'm using Google to help.

Hi! Thank you. I'm glad you like my rants and sometimes nonense lol

About your pint... Well, this is a very old story. If I had a penny for every time I’ve read someone spouting this nonsense, I wouldn’t be rich, but I’d have enough for a nice dinner at a fancy restaurant. It’s so absurd that I don’t even think it’s worth refuting, but just to clarify a few things:

Severus resents Harry for two main reasons, and neither of them has to do with being in love with Lily. It’s not something as childish as “uh, my crush married someone else.” No, there are several layers to it.

The first and most obvious is that, unfortunately, Harry is the spitting image of his father, who, unfortunately, was a jerk who spent his school years torturing people—specifically, and with great enthusiasm: Severus Snape. James spent seven years hunting him down and attacking him for sport, backed by his loyal ally Sirius Black and supported by his lackeys, Remus Lupin and Peter Pettigrew. While the latter two might not have physically assaulted Severus, they were there as enablers and complicit bystanders. Four against one, at the end of the day.

Severus never had the chance to heal from that abuse because, at 21, he was forced to return to the very place that had been hell for him. He had to teach students who were likely old enough to have witnessed some of those humiliations during his time as a student. A victim cannot heal in the place where they were consistently harmed.

Then Harry comes along, looking like an exact replica of James, and every time Severus sees him, it triggers him immensely. When he looks at Harry, he doesn’t see Lily’s son, nor does he see a child—he sees his abuser. And we all know Harry isn’t to blame for any of this, but the thing is, we can’t expect someone who isn’t acting rationally to be rational. Especially when we’re talking about someone who desperately needs therapy and probably medication, neither of which he’s ever had access to.

Then there’s another factor—a deeply emotional one—which is that Harry’s very existence is a painful reminder of Severus’s own role in Lily’s death. The fact that this kid is there, an orphan, is a constant reminder that Severus overheard a prophecy, reported it to Voldemort, and that Voldemort then chose to kill the most important person in Severus’s life because of it. It’s a perpetual mix of anger and guilt.

Looking at Harry forces Severus to relive his past as a victim, his most humiliating moments, as well as the terrible decisions he made because of them and their devastating consequences. This doesn’t excuse his behavior, but it does explain it quite well.

What I’m trying to say is that the reasons behind how he treats Harry are deeply tied to trauma. If Harry were a girl and resembled Lily, Severus would still feel deeply triggered every time he saw her. The only difference would be that instead of seeing James in her, he’d see Lily. I think, rather than anger, it would fill him with depression and guilt to such a degree that, instead of antagonizing her, he’d try to avoid her as much as possible. He wouldn’t want to get within ten miles of her because seeing her face would constantly remind him of the person he failed and indirectly condemned.

At no point do I imagine anything even remotely sexual crossing his mind. Especially when you consider that Severus never once confessed his feelings to Lily or behaved inappropriately toward her. I do think he’d act “softer,” but not because of her appearance specifically—more because Severus is always gentler toward women. I mentioned this in another post, but his more cordial relationships are almost always with female characters, and when he’s cruel, it’s typically far worse with men than with women.

People who lack even the most basic comprehension or analytical skills… Honestly, if they’re going to hate on him, the least they could do is come up with more convincing arguments. Sometimes it’s just exhausting to explain why their theories don’t make any sense.

[bleue-flora]

Ya know… I just realized, what if this book titled Dream that says “dear technoblade” is actually that letter Quackity forces Dream to write in prison. Like hear me out, that torture scene ends after Quackity says “Dear Technoblade.” [clip]. Maybe that’s as far as he got? (lore wise or maybe just recording wise, like how Dream’s diary that just says “Techno admitted have a house” and “Steve is your polar bear” and nothing else) Techno never does receive this supposed letter as @elmhat pointed out [post] and I always did think it was weird that Dream would give him a book with his own name on it�� so maybe Dream didn’t finish that letter after all. Maybe he refused and we didn’t see it because things got too gory like how the first visit torture scene cuts to Quackity covered in blood [clip]. Maybe in prison Dream gives Techno this unfinished letter as a show of - see I didn’t betray you or something. I don’t know, all kinda wild speculation but fun to think about anyways… the missing letter has always bothered me to be honest.

On another note (ha ha literally XD), I should also mention that after getting access to Techno’s inventory and ender chest, I did discovery what is in the other books (again no idea if anyone else has posted about this) and it is equally as profound lol.

In the one titled Secret it says “do not read this book”, the one titled Quackity says “quackity” and the one title Sam says “sam”. I know riveting stuff. ;D

Though to be fair, the lower case names are kinda funny to me. Like from a lore perspective, can you imagine if some guy you spent months in prison with was just like - Here, protect these books. This is all the info I have. Don’t share them with anyone - and it just says “sam” and you try not to offend him but like man’s clearly lost it.

Or maybe, we could reason that Dream’s hands are so fucked up he can’t write much anymore so he couldn’t write a legible version of the letter so thats why Techno never received one and that’s why all these books are mostly empty. Maybe all he manages to write is just “dear technoblade” and “quackity”. And Techno after watching him painstaking write it is like - Hey man, why don’t you just tell me orally and I’ll remember - because it physically pains him to watch him struggle. Perhaps as some have suggested, it’s why the signs on his wall don’t make much sense [post], because his handwriting is really just that bad. Perhaps if he takes his time he can write a little so Quackity and Purpled are spelled right and readable (or maybe Punz wrote it for him :0)…

Oh and on a rivals duo note, (not sure if anyone has talked about this yet either but) I found a couple of those books Dream gave to Techno in prison in a hidden chest in his house. One has the title information and that one just has the coords for their meeting place where the blueprints were buried, but the one labeled Dream just says this

and that’s it… I know, very exciting lol… though to be fair they told us the books were blank because they were going to fill them in later, but technically they lied lol. ;)

[hyperions-light]

alright (more) serious version of the shitpost I made a few days ago

So like IF the Lighthouse turned into a huge confusing polycule, how would it happen

I feel like if you had a very flirtatious Rook they could definitely end up in some kind of situationship with everyone bc everyone is kind of in love with them… like even if you don’t flirt, those outings are all date-coded!! Taking a walk in the Necropolis gardens is literally what Emmrich tells Harding he would do on a date ! Taash is like repeatedly introducing you to their family!! These are dates

And then there’s Taash/Harding and Neve/Lucanis already… and I feel like Neve/Bellara is riiight there, just a little to the left of canon. Think we could get Lucanis/Davrin from drunk partying/suppressed aggression, and then just like… they keep going and don’t talk about it. Whatever! It’s fine! Feelings are for nerds!

I can actually see Davrin/Neve so easily too, like they play off each other so well, they can both be very funny/cynical, and Neve melts like butter when people are nice to her and Davrin is sooo nice. Also Neve loves Assan so he automatically gives her a trillion approval

Starts casual (stays casual?) Davrin/Taash. they’re blowing off steam ;)

Everybody loves Harding, yes? Did you see that coffee scene with her and Luca? Easy.

How are we involving Emmrich hmmmm… well I mean there’s also Emmrich/Strife to consider. He can just have more partners than everyone else, grandpa can get it

I think we get Davrin/Emmrich from single dad bonding, Emmrich/Bellara from nerd bonding and Emmrich/Lucanis from Spite really likes and trusts Emmrich actually

Also the number of times Taash says Neve is pretty… I think they could get there, I really do

And everyone is with Rook too, so now it’s a mess!! And Taash is like

Woah that is a lot of smells what is happening

So Neve is on the case! Track down the suspects! Interview everyone ! Make a clue board !

And then you end up with one of those color coded shipping charts people make sometimes

Emmrich would want to Talk about it. Bellara would be worried. Davrin and Taash would be externally fine and then freak out later. Harding is nervous but willing to work on it. Lucanis… Lucanis needs another coffee. Neve doesn’t think this is going to work out tbh and she’s upset but she doesn’t want to discourage anyone

So team meeting

And then Rook’s just like hey! We’re saving the world, guys! There’s no rules! We’re the improv squad; we should get to be happy! ✨

And everyone goes 😍😍 Rook 💕💕💕❤️

So it’s fine. Like they still have to talk and reassure and stuff but everyone trusts Rook so it’ll be fine

( nobody imagine the end of the game it’s all fine )

[sweetpea-sprite]

does anyone else ever think about how it's kind of implied oliver is really close to figuring out swaine = gascon before the reveal but then they quite literally make him take a nap in a haunted house so he doesn't hear the mid-tombstone trail conversation and therefore never gets all the pieces to click into place. i think about it all the time it's so funny. like if he had heard that conversation there is not a doubt in my mind that he would've been like OH MY GOD. THAT'S SWAINE

[dseval]

What are your thoughts of CrossDust? What dynamic you think they have?

Permission to yap about CrossDust??

Short answer: funny i like both of them they should kiss

...Long yapping ahead (there's yapping about my Murder Sans interpretation, then there's also CrossDust. It's long.)

I'd like to first clarify that my interpretation of Dust may be different compared to many (I think, at least). Since I base his character on the canon information from Ask-Dusttale and fangames— particularly Evan Streblow's Dusttale (if you don't know, it's the one with the psychotic HAHAHAHAHAHAHA and "We're gonna have a MAD time!")

I also slot in some headcanons (and self-projections, can't help it) and some character adjustments because I think canon Murder is extremely difficult to work with, especially in the context of shipping and anything else this fandom does with him in general.

But just the gist of it so you all don't have to read that much (I can go on for ten more paragraphs. I'm obsessed with this guy):

I'll use the names Murder and Dust interchangeably and within different contexts. I like to think Murder is a front that Dust puts on— an apathetic murderer who finds emotions difficult to feel, someone who always lies to get his way, a sociopath. While Dust is quiet, honest, and more contemplative. It's mostly Murder who interacts with others.

Murder and Dust aren't necessarily two different people. Ultimately, Dust directly influences Murder's choices, and Murder may disappear one day once Dust feels content.

His hallucinations aren't only Papyrus, he also hallucinates about others although Papyrus is the most often. And these hallucinations speak different things according to the state he's in. Murder's hallucinations would encourage him to hurt more. While Dust's would induce guilt.

Murder is a very focused person, not afraid to take the lead, and he hates it when nothing happens. Dust on the other hand is content just doing nothing.

Murder finds love absurd. Dust too, but he entertains the thought of it.

Murder and Dust both think words are silly, insincere, and can change meanings, so they are more action-oriented.

He's demisexual. That's a headcanon.

And if anyone has any different interpretation of Murder/Dust Sans, that is absolutely okay and amazing. Dusttale is a very hard AU to actually get into (all the informations are scattered). Plus, there is nothing wrong with fanon. I think it's great, I like fanon. I sometimes like fanon more than canon.

Now CrossDust.

For their general dynamic, I think it's very difficult for them to get together. They just go back and forth between something and nothing. They have like... The slowest of slow burns.

I'd like to implement the entire Underverse thing. Remember how Cross stole Classic's soul? Apparently, Sanses across different alternate timelines can share a memory. So Geno knows Cross stole 'his' soul. Killer also acknowledges this and says to XChara that they stole 'his' soul.

So technically to Murder/Dust— Cross also had stolen 'his' soul (And Murder would've had felt all Cross's pain while at it, too). I think Murder would find it hilarious that Cross brought literally every single innocent AU into his problem. Dust would feel like Cross's plans are ridiculous, but since it's XChara's plan, and XChara is the human, Dust wouldn't even question it.

In a way, they share SOULs once, even if indirectly. Murder/Dust knows probably a lot about Cross. But Cross didn't know who the hell this guy is. Either way, with that in mind. Murder probably didn't have a good first impression of Cross. Dust might empathize with him, since Cross also committed a genocide in order to 'make things better' which is also Dust's reasoning. Cross might learn about Murder's actions later— but cannot judge Murder/Dust for it.

They are very similar. Kindred souls in a way. They went through similar struggles but they turned out to be completely different people. Because Cross in his entire life is under control, while Murder acts on choice. Because Cross knows what he did is horrible and he'll carry that sin to the grave, while Murder justifies his actions.

Cross is too trusting (he doesn't trust easily now), too seeking for approval, he doesn't know what to do if no one orders him. Murder thinks he himself is enough, Murder thinks he is the hero, he doesn't need anyone else.

Cross thinks Murder is a bad person, an absolute jerk. Murder likes to toy with him, probably also uses Cross to his advantage. Murder can either try to hurt Cross, or will try to win his favour. But can Cross judge him? Not really, hell, I don't think Cross even noticed if Murder did manipulate him. Low-key toxic these two.

But then there's the private moments, the intimate moments where Dust shed the front that is Murder. Where Dust is sincere; he doesn't talk, but the way he gazes and acts towards Cross is honest. And although reluctant, maybe Cross desires to bring that side out of him more.

It's both difficult for them to trust. But eventually Dust will learn that Cross cannot lie— Dust will trust words again. Eventually Cross realizes that he's not the only one hurt, and he can find a home in others, he can choose to find a home.

Cross will find it frustrating how Dust shuts himself down. Dust would find it frustrating how hard Cross tries for him. But eventually, Dust would learn to no longer front himself up with Murder. Cross would need a signal from Dust that what he's doing is okay and perfect before they can advance further.

They'll care about one another.

Eventually, they'll trust each other.

In a relationship sense where they're both happy and recovered, though. I think both of them like cuddling. Dust still had a hard time with words, but he knows how much it means for Cross to have words of affirmations, so he would praise Cross a lot. Cross knows Dust is as restless as he is, so he makes sure they both have a full schedule with a lot of things to do.

All in all, they're comfortable with each other. And that's enough, really.

(i almost yapped for ten more paragraphs but I think this is enough for now sksksksk)

Dust Sans by Ask-Dusttale

Cross Sans, Underverse, & XTale by Jakei

Mentioned characters: Killer Sans (by Rahafwabas), Geno (by loverofpiggies/CrayonQueen)

[birtsby]

poe is NOT a morning person but he IS a pop girlie 💁🏼‍♀️

[direpunk]

filming friends

[skrunksthatwunk]

non-comprehensive haruhi autism creature comp

i mean just look at him she's literally

[itbemoonchild]

God I love watching people trying to do math

[hyohaehyuk]

(x)

I swear this hate tweet that become a meme in the fandom is perfect to explain those photos above 😅

[koushuwu]

» 𝐬𝐡𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐤 𝐢’𝐦 𝐜𝐮𝐭𝐞 (𝐬𝐡𝐞 𝐰𝐚𝐧𝐧𝐚 𝐡𝐚𝐯𝐞 𝐬𝐞𝐱) *:･ﾟ✧

» 𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: hinata shoyo x reader | 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐬: 4,2k | hq masterlist

» 𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: hinata shoyo both lives and loves freely, and he ain’t ashamed. neither is he opposed to sharing some of that loving with a fan, when said fan so clearly finds him cute.

» 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭 (𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬): afab!reader, multiple writing styles, alcohol consumption, smut, one night stand, feet (a little bit), slight body worship, nipple play, spit, fingering, consensual sex, no editing we die like neji. lmk if i missed something.

» 𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐬: @tyga-lily (i hope that it's okay to tag you in this, since shoyo is your mans.)

MSBY!shoyo who has always had a very lively personality, having more than once been referred to as a “sunshine boy”. by many a different person, mind you. so of course it’s only natural that he’d be one to very much enjoy the party scene with his fellow black jackals.

MSBY!shoyo who finds himself the life of the party, with his drawing personality, his carefree demeanor, his quick radiant smiles and his fiery passion. with bokuto by his side especially, it was hard to believe anyone could not enjoy themselves. that is, of course, unless they were sakusa, who’d generally rather be home than on a night out, no matter the company. especially at atsumu’s favorite club of all places.

MSBY!shoyo who’s sending the bartender a bright smile, when he sat a drink down in front of him. “from the young lady over there.”

MSBY!shoyo who had had this happen before, but the bubbling joy never seized to erupt every single time, and he couldn’t help turning that bright contagious smile towards you across the club. his smile widening when you look away, bashful, before meeting his gaze with a fire that matched his own passion to a t.

MSBY!shoyo who got pulled back to the present by bokuto’s chiding “oh, she’s cute.” the electrifying moment crackling but never breaking, as shoyo turned to his friend and teammate with a grin as big as bokuto’s spread across his face. bokuto’s grin rivaling that of shoyo’s in contagiousness. again; unless you’re sakusa, who’d still rather be home, watching on in distaste.

MSBY!shoyo who glanced down at the cocktail in front of him, then looking back up at you. only now you were nowhere to be seen. he scanned the crowd for a glimpse of you, but between the many partygoers, he didn’t stand a chance, instead taking a sip of the vibrant cocktail in front of him. it was good. really good. and somehow that made him yearn for you to return to his line of sight.

MSBY!shoyo who found you later on the dancefloor. the bass was thumping and as he moved towards his table, and there you were. right in front of him, dancing with your friend. or he thought it was your friend. stopping in his track, he watched you spin around. and that’s when your eyes met his. for one split second, you seemed surprised to see him, but then you smiled.

MSBY!shoyo who feels entranced by the smile you sent him. by the glimmer in your eye and by the energy that surrounded you like an aura. who couldn’t help but feel a sense of wonder at the draw you exuded toward him. the draw, that pulled him in, like other people had told him over the years he did to them.

MSBY!shoyo whose eyes followed your movements as you danced. who followed the move of your hands as one found his, and pulled him close. “hinata shoyo, right?”

MSBY!shoyo who knew you were a fan, the moment you said his name, but didn’t even care when you looked at him like that. who’d been with a fan on more than one occasion. it was all the same to him. a nights fun was a nights fun, no matter with whom, to him. but even so, he’d be lying if he said there wasn’t something magnetic about you. something a little out of the ordinary, compared to the rest. but no one asked, so he didn’t tell. at least, not yet.

MSBY!shoyo who couldn’t help but smile even bigger as you pulled him closer. as he pulled you closer in turn, and as you moved with him. as he moved with you.

MSBY!shoyo who despite lacking in some aspects as a kid found his rhythm fast. since going pro and since joining the black jackals. and especially since meeting atsumu and bokuto again, had learned that he, as atsumu phrased it, had moves. he knew how to move and he knew how to guide you as he did.

MSBY!shoyo who’d become so accustomed to the move of his own body on the dancefloor that he’d expected himself not to get flustered when your hand trailed over his skin. but he did. his heart may have stuttered and his movements faltered for a single moment in time. but then the next beat of the music boomed from the speakers and he’d already found his footing once more. 

MSBY!shoyo who knew it was coming, but still felt heat clouding his features when your fingers traced the nape of his neck, testing the waters as you slit them further up, burying your fingers in his beautiful red hair. whose eyes stayed locked on yours the entire time as you moved together.

MSBY!shoyo whose eyes fluttered shut when you pushed up to your toes, lips gracing his softly. he felt it in every fiber. every single cell of his being when you kissed him. when he kissed you back. who felt the entire world fall away as he let himself get lost in the moment. in the closeness and in the taste of your lips. who chased after your lips when you pulled back, that contagious smile still lingering. who opened his eyes to watch you just as you opened your mouth to speak. “i got you my favorite,” you told him. “i wanted to see what it’d taste like on your tongue.” he smiled at that and asked “and? was it to your liking?” your laugh sounded above the music, like a calling to him that he’d never known he longed for. “hmm. hard to tell.” you smiled, pulling him back in by the collar. “might need to have another taste, just to be sure.”

MSBY!shoyo who brought you with him home to his hotel that night, knowing that the tabloids would blow it up, given the chance, but he didn’t mind. shoyo lived his life and he wasn’t ashamed. not one bit and he never would be. he lived and he loved. and he did it freely. especially with someone as cute as you. so he took you to his back home to his hotel.

MSBY!shoyo who spent the entire ride back lively and brightly. not once allowing the mood to turn awkward. not once letting a single uncomfortable silence settle. not that he particularly tried to fill the silence. it was just natural to him. second nature and hadn’t it been what gravitated you towards him? who was delighted to find, that you filled up half of the space and the silence yourself, perfectly bouncing off his energy with your own. it was stunning really, and shoyo found himself drawn to you, just as well as you had been him.

MSBY!shoyo who could still taste you pleasantly lingering on the tip of his tongue as you stepped into the elevator by his side, grateful to have found the streets empty outside his hotel. who let his fingers trace the back of your hands, a lopsided smile pulling at his lips as you turned your hand and interlocked your fingers with his.

MSBY!shoyo who led the way out of the elevator. down the hall. briefly stopping before the door to his room before letting the both of you inside. the room that he thankfully had to himself. could you imagine? sharing a room with sakusa would have given the poor guy a heart attack if he’d known what was about to go down in that very room. truthfully, it probably would anyway, even if it wasn’t his room. but alas. the room was hinata’s alone and he was not about to pass that opportunity by.

MSBY!shoyo who was eager in many a setting, but for once didn’t feel any rush. no better way to get with someone, than allowing the both of you to enjoy the experience. allowing you to indulge. to have fun and take your time. that was his philosophy at least, when it came to sex. especially with one night stands. to kick things back and just enjoy. no rush. no hurry. so he led you inside, guiding you to the bed and gently setting you on the edge and dropped to his knees. not that he was about to propose, but those heels looked awfully painful.

MSBY!shoyo who lifted one of your feet from the floor and undid the strap, sliding it off. and then the other, fingers gliding over your skin in relaxed confidence. something he’d learned over the years that now came to him like second nature. 

MSBY!shoyo who couldn’t read your mind, but definitely noticed the way you admired him on the floor in front of you. who couldn’t read the thoughts on him, that went through your head. he was cute. he had energy. he had stamina. he was fun. he was passionate. he was eager. he had this air around him. confidence. that’s what you saw when you looked at him. and it was sexy. painstakingly so. all these things, something that shoyo didn’t know. but he saw the glimmer in your eye, and who was he to let you wait?

MSBY!shoyo who lifted your bare foot higher in the air, and planted a kiss at your ankle, relishing in the little visible shudder coursing through you. cute. he did it again. and again. each kiss edging just a little further up, tasting the skin of your calf.

“hina—“

“shoyo,” he said. “call me shoyo.” he looked up at you from the floor. a playful glimmer in his eye and a joyful smile at his lips.

“shoyo,” you repeated in agreement. tasting his name as if you hadn’t already put the name in your mouth numerous times before. but never like this though. never with him. always, always, always in conversation with friends. family. fans. but this? this was different.

MSBY!shoyo who relished in the sound of his name spilling from you lips. he smiled. chuckled. he looked up at you, anticipation reflected in your eyes as they followed his every move. every single one of his movements as he moved up further, kissing the side of your knee before licking a stripe up your inner thigh. the fact that you were wearing a dress, no tights, was like a gift bestowed on him as he tasted your skin. your hand shoved into his soft fiery locks as your breathing hitched when he blew his warm breath across the saliva on your leg.

MSBY!shoyo who, despite being eager and energetic, took the time stop and make sure you actually wanted this. who asked you more than once if you were sure. if you were okay with anything he did. because you may have wanted him when you left the club with him, but that didn’t mean you still did. shoyo was a free spirit and a respectful one at that. so he asked. and once he’d got you splayed out on his hotel bed, clothes discarded on the floor, he asked you again. but this time, he asked you something different.

“What do you want me to do?” his breath against your skin sent a shiver through your body as goosebumps rose across your flesh. this time not a ‘are you sure?’, ‘do you still want this?’ or a ‘are you feeling okay?’ but simply a request for you to indulge him. to play with him.

“touch me,” you told him, the alcohol in your system stripping you of any embarrassment sober you might’ve felt by speaking your mind like this. but tipsy you? tipsy you wanted his hands on your body and tipsy you weren’t afraid to say so.

“where?” he asked. “if we’re gonna do this, we might as well have a good time, yeah?” it was more of a statement than a question really, because it was simple. of course you might. and that was the thing shoyo really wanted most. to ensure that the both of you were having the best time that you could on this one night together. you were just about to reply when a mischievous glimmer played in his eyes. “here?” he asked, bringing his hands up to cup your tits. you nodded when he pinched one nipple between his fingers. that made his lips split in a big, beautiful, blinding grin. then he dipped and took your other nipple between his lips and suckled.

there was a breathy sound escaping your lips when his teeth graced the sensitive nub, making your back arch off the bed. he did it again, rolling your other nipple between his fingers at the same time.

“shoyo–” you whined, the last note drawing out as his tongue flicked around your nipple. he looked up at you and finally released you, tongue sticking out and a little bit of spit trickling onto your exposed skin. the glimmer in his eyes was captivating. entrancing. the smile on his face was dazzling. drawing. he was looking at you, as if you were quite literally the only woman in the world, and even if he might not be yours to keep, it never felt forced. maybe because to him, at that moment, you were in fact very much the only woman that mattered, and he absolutely made sure that you felt it.

“where?” he asked you again, this time pausing to let you reply. to let you tell him what and where you wanted him to touch. and so you did. you took his hand in yours and guided it down. down. down. down. until his fingers rested against your sex.

“here,” you said and he grinned back at you. drawing indeed.

“oh? this pretty little lady?” he asked, letting his fingers slide between your folds, feeling the slick against them. “happy to oblige,” he said. you sucked in a breath as his digits danced over your clit. he was good. really good. the playful melody of his fingers was lighthearted. fun. good. perfect. something so different to anything you’d ever tried with any one night stand before, and for a moment you couldn’t believe your luck, that he’d taken you home. you. out of all the people he could have pulled from the bar, he’d picked you. a fan of his no less. the next moment you remembered that you had indeed been pretty straightforward with you advantages from the very start. but who could blame you really? the guy was cute as hell. little did you know that shoyo really hadn’t planned on taking anyone home at all. he never did when these sort of things happened. but your straightforward approach had been exactly what captivated him. you’d let him have a glance, but you hadn’t pushed. not until he was right there in front of you again. and at that point, he’d already been looking for you for hours. the trap already snapped closed, even if you’d never truly expected it to play out like that. but it did.

the temperature rose like a crescendo between the two of you. a moan fell from your lips and shoyo smiled. his eyes locked onto your and held your gaze in place. there was something about the way he looked at you right then, that made it feel impossible for you to look away. so you didn’t.

“give me your hand,” he prompted, reaching out. you placed your hand in his, gaze still interlocked with his. fingers slid gingerly over your skin as he let them glide from your hand, up to your wrist, circling it softly. drawing your hand towards him, he opened his mouth, tongue sticking out. his thumb grazed your palm, then pressed lightly. you straightened your fingers at his silent command. you couldn’t help but feel drawn in by him as he put your fingers to his mouth, tongue sliding in between them. around them. pulling them in. he was mesmerizing. even more so than you’d ever imagined, watching him play or participate in interviews. like he was a completely different league.

as much as you probably could have tried to keep your voice back, you didn’t. you mewled. you keened. and he hadn’t even entered you yet. he hadn’t entered you yet. he should– he bit down gently on your knuckles, and you whined as you felt yourself tightening around nothing. he should–

“shoyo–” you whined. again. but you didn’t care. because you were here and he was here and you were together and that’s what mattered. “inside, too. please,” you pleaded. and he smiled, removing your fingers from his mouth.

“okay,” he agreed. he didn’t press inside. instead he shifted in the bed, placing himself on his knees between your legs. and that’s when your eyes grew wide, because with your hand pressed to the mattress, his fingers caressed your skin. from your wrist, down the inside of your forearm, making you shudder. then, down the side of your ribs, over your hip and then to your thigh. he pushed it down. out. and then he did something you hadn’t expected him to. gaze still trained on yours, he let a dribble of spit fall from his lips. the cold, wet sensation sent a pleasurable ripple through your body. from your very core and through every little inch, ebbing out as it reached your fingertips. goosebumps broke out across your skin, amplified only by the way he looked at you. and looked at you. you looked back. captivated. as if you couldn’t truly look away. lacing his fingers between yours on one hand, the other found your pussy again, tracing through the slick of his own spit and your arousal.

“last chance to back out,” he said when one finger pressed against your entrance. it was soft. imødekommende. understanding. but you just shook your head. you wanted him, and he clearly wanted you.

“not gonna happen,” you told him, tone equally soft. a little teasing. he grinned. he did that a lot, you noted. and then he pressed inside.

shoyo was as giver. he enjoyed the playful thrill of pleasuring his partner. of giving, and giving, and giving. making his partner feel good. happy. it was a feeling like no other. and that was exactly the feeling he reveled in, that very moment, as he worked you open. as he stretched your pussy, first making room for one more finger, and then as he slowly thrust them into your heat, again and again.

your own grip tightened in his, moan after whine after mewl after whimper spilling into the scorching air around you, mixing in with his labored breathing, in a wondrous, beautiful symphony. rising and falling in perfect harmony, the filthy squelches of his fingers picking up pace, bullying into you, making for the steady bass of the sweet orchestration.

somehow, shoyo knew exactly how to angle his fingers to hit just that perfect spot inside. to go just deep enough. honestly that should not have been legal. and yet somehow he managed it.

the hold around your hand loosened, but only long enough for shoyo to nestle the palm of his own hand against the back of yours, digits once again slipping between yours, and squeezed it lightly. it tingled. you didn’t know why, but it did. every little bit of skin that he touched was buzzing, as if electric. charged. charged like the feeling in the pit of your stomach; rising expectantly. reaching. stretching towards the peak of crescendo, each tone strumming higher and higher in pitch. shoyo curled his fingers, thumb caressing your hand as he continued to pump into you. you hadn’t expected him to make you cum, honestly. not because you thought he’d be bad in bed, but first times and one night stands often left a lot to be desired for you, because you simply didn’t know each others bodies well enough. so you hadn’t expected him to manage it. at the very least not this fast. but you felt the rise, rapidly approaching the climax you hadn’t been prepared for. but when he brushed deep inside you once more, you welcomed it, as it washed over you in a delicious flow of heat. it wasn’t fireworks going off inside. it wasn’t an earth shattering crash of pleasure snapping in your core. it was warm, comforting pleasure rolling through you like the waves lapping at the shore on a quiet summer night, and it was perfect. shoyo smiled at the sound of his name, softly sliding off your tongue like a contented sigh. he held you until the waves of pleasure ebbed out, thinning to a pleasant hum.

“good?” he asked you when he sensed you were back. that you’d come down from your high.

“good,” you confirmed, voice soft and flashed him a lazy grin of your own.

“good,” he said, lifting your hand to his lips. they were soft. softer than any guy’s lips you’d ever felt, as he kissed the palm of your hand. then he kissed it again. “i’m glad,” he said, breath hot as it spread against your wrist before his lips pressed against it. your skin tingled. the sensation sending new heat surging down your spine. spreading and once more made you long for his touch. for more. for him. shoyo seemed to sense the charged atmosphere. the way you looked at him, because he chuckled as he kissed your wrist once more.

“shoyo,” you said, and he looked at you, still standing tall between your thighs.

“hm?”

“instead of my wrist, maybe you could kiss me instead. or better yet, you could fuck–” your words cut off when he pressed leaned down and pressed his lips to yours. he guided your hand into his hair as he kissed you, just as you’d asked. his warm cock bumping against your abdomen as he adjusted over you. the kiss was short and he pulled back, nipping at your lower lip as he did. you chased his lips, but he just grinned at your efforts.

“that’s just want i wanted to hear,” he told you and then kissed you again. and again. and again and again and again. and even through kisses, it didn’t take long before shoyo had successfully slid the rubber in place, tip now excitedly slipping through the wetness of your cunt. “how do you want it?” he asked you, and there was another shiver rippling through you. you never thought you’d get excited by talking in bed, but the the way shoyo did it was– well it was hot. incredibly so. something about the way he considered you, even for a one time fling. the sheer confidence of his bright and attentive aura. it gave you the confidence as well, to be free and to ask of him exactly what you wanted.

“from behind,” you said. “i like it from behind.”

“alright, princess. turn around,” he told you. it wasn’t a command. a simple instruction that you found yourself eager to follow. and so you did, feeling his gaze on you as you did. he was admiring you. every single inch of skin. every curve, crevice and crease as you turned. you were beautiful in every sense of the word to him, honestly. he let you settle into the position that was the most comfortable for you, and didn’t touch you before then. as you rested against the bed, ass raised in silent invitation, he finally did touch you. one single finger traced the curve of your spine, from between your shoulders and all the way down to your tailbone. featherlight and burning hot at the same time. he drew circles across your skin before finally resting his palm against your hip. with the other, he lined himself up with your entrance, and then stopped.

“shoyo. fuck me, please.” you told him, before he had the time to ask if you were sure. if you were ready. if you were comfortable, or anything else along those lines. you’d have to admit that it was insanely hot that he did so, but right now– right now you wanted nothing more than for him to get inside you, and you were not going to waste any more time than absolutely necessary before you got what you wanted. shoyo clearly got the memo, because his hold tightened on your hip and his cock pressed against your cunt, stretching as it pushed inside. slowly. slowly. ever so slowly. but oh so absolutely delicious and despite your impatience to have him sheathed inside of you, you wouldn’t have it any other way.

MSBY!shoyo who never had any second thoughts about having sex with a fan. he lived and he loved freely, and he wasn’t going to let anyone stop him from doing just that, for as long as he was single. and so he chose to love you, that night. to give you everything you wanted. to give you all of him that you wanted.

MSBY!shoyo who’d done this kind of thing more than once. and who’d had a night partner slip him their number before they left more than once as well. but this time. maybe. just maybe, he’d keep it. this time. maybe. just maybe, a one night stand could be allowed to turn into a two nights stand. or maybe. just maybe–

*:･ﾟ✧ thank you for reading ♡

[jonsnowunemploymentera]

And remember kids, the next time someone tells you, "George R. R. Martin wouldn't make Jon Snow the typical fantasy hero because that's cliche".....

Oh yes he would!

One viewer wants to know what character would you play (on the show)? GRRM: If I could magically clap my hands and become a different person, it would be cool to play Jon Snow who's much more of the classic hero. Everybody wants to be the classic hero! ABC Interview, 2014

GRRM: And the character I’d want to be? Well who wouldn’t want to be Jon Snow — the brooding, Byronic, romantic hero whom all the girls love. Meduza Interview, 2017

In fact he already has ☺️

[thatnununguy]

black and white and black and slime <3

[rui-drawsbox]

comm-comic for @fidorance! accepted the request to see if i should make it another option for comms but i am nOt doing stuff like this again sorry i dont enjoy it enough to do it for other people besides me ajdkjfjsa