#like legitimately loathe it
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one day videogames'll stop being Dark Souls Emulators
one day I'll be able to actually play a game without immediately being eviscerated by the first pack of enemies I come across
one day
#I hate that dark souls became popular#like legitimately loathe it#because now every other game is this superhard Fuck You of a game#that me and my casual ass has no hope of ever beating#because I CANT get better#I've tried#all that happens is I get my ass handed to me#a thousand times over#I just want a good story and fun gameplay for christs sake
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underrated paris guilt moment is when delta goes to see him after he got his lung punctured and delta is staring at the wound too long and paris says “happy?”. he knows he deserved it.
#but delta isnt happy! paris projects a malice onto him that isnt even there because of his own self loathing#sorry i literally post like im my own fandom. the fun thing about writing something longform like this over a long period of time#is that you legitimately do get to experience surprise and detachment and nostalgia for the older parts#as if someone else made them and youre seeing them for the first time
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seeing grownup!isabelle fuhrman on insta just makes reading always remember we're burned for better by @clatoera even better because like. this sweet and friendly grown woman being a petty vindictive asshole and brutally torturing her mom's killer/cornering katniss and having a villain monologue moment/pegging a blood-soaked cato... the imagery is beyond words
#arwbfb tag#thg fanfiction#clato fanfiction#no bc like i legitimately forgot cato&clove were deadass nineteen in the fic by the quarter quell so I kept imagining Tiny Clove#it makes the fact that they fucking despised katniss (random sixteen year old girl) for a lot of the fic even funnier too#imagine being loathed by people who are Legally Adults#and they have to be murderous brats about it too!!
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as a bona fide vaxleth lover i am more confused than ever about how they are portrayed on the animated series i'm not gonna lie 😭
#not that different is bad like it doesn't affect or 'ruin' the actual source material#i just legitimately do not understand some of their choices here#there's stuff i really like ofc but u know. i've written multiple long analyses about conflict in their relationship#and in previous seasons it seemed to me like they were just smoothing out those sharp edges which bummed me out ngl#(for one there was a line at the end of s1 where kiki directly contradicted her campaign self in favor of No Conflict that i was feeling#unsatisfied with. and s2 didn't contend with rq as a sticking point for keyleth really at all)#and like to be honest my distaste for that is biased by like fandom drama of years past and people shitting on them for that exact stuff#so for me it kinda felt like an updated and palatable version that appealed to the group of people that made me feel bad for liking them#which is again like a strong personal bias lol but u know it also is just. a really important story to me that i love#but this season it's like they went no no. they do actually need to fight that was a big thing. hmmmm what about#AH YES. let's reverse their povs about their relationship completely.#have not finished ep3 yet but 10 min in i'm just like HUH?#again this doesn't rly matter and the show remains an enjoyable adaptation it's just truly bizzare to me 😭 how did this choice get made#it speaks#lovm spoilers#sorry I'm not done yet actually because the specific conflict about happiness in the present being or not being worth sorrow later#is the VERY CORE OF BOTH OF THOSE CHARACTERS and to switch which one feels which is way more than weird for the romance it's weird for like#what each of their whole individual deal is. that's why i'm so ??????????????#gah. i truly don't want to complain too badly#(and tbh the eps simply don't have enough runtime for vax to be as completely-falling-apart as he actually was and the role of#depression and trauma and self-loathing in that vs like. a more easily telegraphed supernatural boogeyman#-which if they slowed the pace down more might fit in but the scale of the story is so grand that they can't so like i begrudingly get it.#but still absolutely wild for the solution to be: do away with their actual arguments about divinity or keyleth's insecurity about#outliving all of vox machina. oh btw we are giving the vision she had of that to vax as a gift from rq or whatever#so he can be inscure about it instead. because he's fate touched or smthn. and that's too abstract for us to explore here so let's just#give him ominous visions.)#the more i have typed the saltier i have gotten i'm sorry it's just WILD TO MEEEE
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every day i think about the disco elysium Something Beautiful Is Going to Happen mural and thats not an exaggeration in the slightest
#legitimately i think 'something beautiful is going to happen' daily its like a personal mantra at this point#idk man. your name is harry du bois you are slowly rediscovering who you are and what you are#in the context of a murder in the middle of a dark and muddy world#you learn that you werent a good person and you probably still arent. you learn that you loathed yourself#and you get some paint and you look at a blank wall and thats the message you leave behind. something beautiful is going to happen
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im just really fucking tired of feeling like im always scrambling against the edge of shit, and not knowing whether its because of brain issues or what fucking ever or behavior i can fix if i just commit to fixing it. god. fuck. i really fucking need adderall.
#my consult for a consult basically said that if i went through the schools service i might not get an appointment til march#so im gonna talk it over with my parents next week and see if we can do it offcampus. i really dont know how to do the logistics of it all.#but i legitimately cant keep living like this.#im stressed and constantly miserable and embarrassed and i should probably talk to someone abt thoughts of self-loathing lol.#probably not helped by the fact that im extremely isolated. so you know. if i could fix just one thing about my life thatd be pretty cool.#sorry im tired and angry at myself i know nobodys going to get made for me venting on my own blog (except me) but still#fuck meeeee and i still have so much shit to do im so stressed and in a hell of my own making
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Look, I don't want to be mean and message the person directly, but someone commented on the Bruce-Oliver twitter post that it was OOC for Oliver because 'Oliver Queen would be happy to be a billionaire because he's everything Bruce haters think Bruce is' and, like, tell me you've never read a Green Arrow comic without telling me you've never read a Green Arrow comic.
#green arrow#oliver queen#fair warning: if you track down and harass this person over their incorrect Green Arrow opinions I will fight you#but seriously though#the only way you can interact with Green Arrow and assume he'd be down with billionaires is either only watching Arrow#or having fallen into a coma circa 1970 something and only just waking up#like Oliver Queen has gone through multiple storylines where he loses all of his money#and all of them end with the conclusion that he is a better person when he isn't a billionaire or anything close to it#hell the first if these?#Dennis O'Neil rewrote the inciting incident a few years later to make it so that Oliver *willingly donates* all of his money#because he thought the original plotline was too weak and wishy-washy and wanted to make it clear that the money itself was the problem#look. Is Oliver Queen an asshole a lot of the time? Yes.#Can you make an entirely legitimate argument that Green Arrow weakens a lot of other characters (especially Black Canary) by association?#Yes#Is it entirely legitimate to dislike Oliver Queen? I have several mutuals who loathe him so I'd say yes#but to cast Oliver in a specific light that has practically no basis in the actual canon? That blows.#again I cannot stress enough: don't harass the person who made that comment
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becoming a wicked movie warrior was absolutely not on my 2024 bingo card
#but it was *legitimately* good#and my standards were HIGH#still wish it was a big sweeping epic animated movie musical. like a full on art piece set to the score and songs#but mayb that is for a different life#and again: it is no secret that i hated the casting for glinda#loathed it even#despised.#but she disappeared into the role!!!#the choreography was delightful the costumes were fun the set pieces were DELISH#it’s almost like... this musical was always meant to be a movie#idk it’s so good i can’t believe this is happening
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"weird" really is the perfect descriptor for modern conservatives because I would argue the defining feature of the current american far right is that they exist purely in their own bespoke media ecosystem that is both highly conspiratorial and mostly untethered from the truth. this is a group of people whose belief system has been debunked and disproven so many times by legitimate sources that they've resorted to just telling each other increasingly absurd lies in order to justify those beliefs. the upshot of this being that the minute you remove any of those lies from said bespoke media environment, there's really no appropriate response other than some varient of "bro, what the fuck are you talking about?"
how am I supposed to respond to someone who says that Democrats are running a satanic cult where they ritually sacrifice children to harvest their adrenachome - a theory that is not only insane, but is also a throwaway gag from Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas. what do you expect me to say to someone who says that trans women are dominating in women's sports, and when asked to give examples responds with a list of non-white cis women? How am I supposed to take someone seriously who thinks that wildfires are caused by space lasers controlled by the Rothschilds or that schools are installing litter boxes for children who identify as cats or that most large corporations are "Marxist" because they have mandatory diversity trainings?
like sure I can take them seriously as a political threat but how am I supposed to have any respect for them as *people*. because as people they are just deeply fucking weird. we should be able to dismiss them out of hand because it's not like they'd care about whether or not we're making a reasoned argument
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[ @onepiecehours ]
YOU GUYS ARE SO CORRECT
for real for real. Shanks is living in a happy sunshine world where he and his long-term long-distance childhood sweetheart are finally getting back together.
Buggy is in hell.
it's so fucking funnyyyyyyy
local clown cannot stop sleeping with loser scrub ex, more at ten
(the text behind Buggy in the middle panel reads 'If you're under him you ain't getting over him / we are never ever ever getting back together / yes I know that he's my ex but can't two people reconnect / a scrub is a guy who can't get no love from me)
bonus:
#also OBSESSED with the idea that Buggy has a VERY skewed and warped view of their break up#or it's become that way over the years#like... he has sooooo much hate and loathing built up and he doesnt know how to process that a lot of it's for... himself as well as shanks#so he just dumps it ALL on shanks and makes him out to be way worse than he was#to justify his own actions & part in the break up#and to hide from the reality of how legitimately heartbroken he was when shanks just gave up (as he saw it)#and this is of course all inextricably mixed up with how they both grieved for Rogers in very different ways and#how his execution affected them throughout their ongoing lives but - AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH#I WILL STOP SCREAMING#I JUST LIKE TO POKE THIS SHIP WITH A STICK AND WATCH THEM SQUIRM
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Welp, since absolutely no one asked
Here are the types of bodies I think the 141 have ✨
TF141 x Female Reader
Tags: cum eating, blow jobs, oral (fem receiving), cumming in pants, multiple orgasms
Warning: NSFW imagery beneath cut
Kyle “Gaz” Garrick
As far as sheer beauty goes, Gaz might top them all. I head canon Kyle as being pretty lean, body composed of sculpted, sheer muscle. He's got a slim frame, like a runner or boxer.
Graceful. Strong. Built for endurance and agility.
What's more? It's fucking effortlessssss. Like, legitimately. When he was a middle schooler, he might have been told he was skinny once or twice. But the minute he hit his growth spur and shot up like a bean stalk, no one could say shit.
Why?
Because Gaz looks like a goddamn male model and he doesn't even have to do anything to maintain it.
Perfect skin? Yep. He uses five dollar lotion.
Legs like a ballerina? Uh-huh. The only training he does is for work.
Sculpted, mouth-watering abs? Check. They were built by McDonald's fries, Netflix, and the grace of God himself.
Let's face it. Gaz looks like he walked off the cover of a magazine purely because the lord has favorites. Let's move on.
Now, Gaz might only go the extra mile when it comes to work training...
But those muscles didn't just come from anywhere.
And the first time Gaz gets you underneath him, cock pounding into you for what feels like hours, you finally fucking understand.
Gaz's body—slick, strong, and slim—is built for agility. For endurance.
It's built for trapping you beneath the length of his covetous frame until you're too exhausted to struggle. For holding you down until he's dripping with sweat, until every muscle in his shaking body screams for a break.
Until his long, aching cock is slowly dripping semen onto the flat of your stomach.....for the third time in the past hour.
Gaz might loathe running the track, but he'll have you fucking like bunnies until you manage to buck him off.
The man has stamina that could rival a racehorse, and god help any woman that found herself in his grasp.
"Sit still, baby," he pants loudly, wrenching the globes of your ass in two of his model-esque hands, "M'not fuckin' done yet. One more...I just—need one more."
Johnny “Soap” MacTavish
Now Soap? probably the exact opposite of Gaz.
When body building became popular online, Soap jumped right on the bandwagon. Perhaps he grew up as the youngest brother in a horde of boys...or perhaps he was just tired of being the shortest boy on the football team...
But the minute he was old enough to afford a gym subscription, he was there. From dusk 'til dawn, practically. To Johnny, the gym is more than just a hobby. It's a lifestyle, and one that he enjoys immensely.
Soap is bulky, built of bulging muscle, broad shoulders, and thin hips. Every inch of it, from his plush chest to his cut abs, was painstakingly earned by hours of pumping iron.
He goes lifting six days a week, tracks all of his nutrition down to the last calorie. Everything he puts into his body is tracked and monitored--and that's the way he likes it.
He'd never say it aloud, but if it were up to him, I think he'd be the type to participate in those fitness/body building competitions.
In simple terms though? Without all those fancy words? "Macros?" "BCAAS?" What the hell is that?
In layman's terms...
Johnny has arms like tree trunks and ass for fucking DAYS. With the bulk and cut cycle, he oscillates between beautifully fatty in the thighs....to shredded like a piece of paper.
You can't help but watch him go back and forth, mind reeling with the change.
In the winter, you rest your head against the soft plains of his stomach while you lap at the head of his cock, soft and squishy from holiday cookies and hot cocoa. You like him like this.
Full. Rosy cheeked. Cock leaking strings of slick in the dip of his belly button, semen thin and stringy in your mouth.
In the summer? God help you.
In the summer, Johnny's out more than he's in, running himself ragged between his diet, work, and the gym. When he comes home, he's grumpy and agitated, balls achingly full, and semen thick after months of careful water intake.
His caloric intake might be down...but he prefers a different type of eating, anyway.
Good thing he has all those muscles. All the better to hold you down while he fucks you on his tongue.
"Johnny—" you mewl, shoving at his head when his tongue curls around your clit again, "It's past five already—aren't you ready for dinner?"
His lips pop when he pulls off of your swollen clit, eyes glazed over while he watches the way your pussy leaks.
"M'not hungry, doll," he mutters, "Got more than enough to eat here, anyway..."
Simon “Ghost” Riley
Simon Riley....
Now, he's just a big fucking boy. Like, 6'4, over 250 lbs type of big.
Hear me out. Contrary to popular belief, I think Simon has more trouble keeping weight on than keeping it off. I wholeheartedly believe that when he was a teenager he was a thin guy.
Like, he'd fully grown into his height, but just didn't have the nutrition to support it. Simon doesn't cook, and...for lack of a better description, he's not great at taking care of himself. When he was a teenager, still trapped in his parents house, he probably skipped more meals than he ate. And before he joined the army, I think it's safe to say he was a lanky, underweight kid.
But the minute that man starts eating three meals a day?
GODDAMN DOES HE GROW. Like, I'm pretty sure by the end of basic training his drill sergeants were terrified of the monster they'd created.
Simon's fucking heavyyyyyy. Built equally of fat and muscle. He likes the gym, but his body isn't built for the magazine. It's built for utility. For war. For fucking blood. He doesn't care about appearances. He needs strength than can kill.
Barrel chest. Biceps bigger than your head. Stomach muscled and heaving. A trail of wispy, blonde hair leading down from his belly button into the hefty bulge at the front of his pants....
Simon's a behemoth, and anyone whose fought him on the mat knows better than to stand within his arms' reach.
Now, his weight fluctuates pretty heavily, too. A rough few months in the field could see his weight dropping quickly, in which case his hard earned muscle would show through.
But when he's on leave?
...homeboy sustains himself on granola bars and ramen noodles. He gets soft around the middle and also should probably drink more water but...good luck trying to get him to eat more than convenience store junk. He’ll set the kitchen on fire if he tries to boil some water.
Simon's big.
And he's big everywhere.
The zippers on his jeans are remarkably tight. His fatigues look almost like lingerie on his thick thighs. And if he's wearing grey sweatpants?Simon's a lethal fucking weapon at that point.
Why am I telling you this?
Because the first time you see him naked, you might be tempted to reconsider opening your legs for a man like him...your cervix will be bruised to hell and back--not to mention your ass and thighs, too. His hands aren't kind like Kyle's, nor are they careful like Johnny's.
He'll rough you up, pound into you like any reasonable woman could ever manage to take the full length of him without crying.
He'll bite his identity into your collarbones, burn his fingerprints into the fat of your ass cheeks. And when it's all said and done, he'll bully the fattened head of his ruddy cock between your lips and watch the tears drip from your eyes, swollen mouth quivering when you try to swallow his cum.
And if it's all too much to handle? Good luck getting out from under him. Because once you're there, you're not leaving unless you can push him off, match his strength, or make him cum fast enough to leave before he's hard again.
Though, nobody's ever managed it before...not like they'd ever want to.
"Mm—Simon, you're—“
"Shhhh, love," he grunts, your body shoved flat to the mattress beneath his massive frame, "Don't move. Don't fuckin' move. I'm almost there, just....fuck, sit still and let me fill you up, yeah? Then I'll let you go...I promise this time."
Captain John Price
Now, if there is anyone in the 141 that actually enjoys the food they eat, it's Price.
HEAR ME OUT HEAR ME OUT
okay so, Price, as a Captain, probably makes substantially more than the other three. That, and he's a good bit older too. He's past his prime (or so he thinks), and whether or not he has a perfect six pack when he looks in the mirror is the LAST thing he could ever care about.
Price isn't one for keeping up appearances--at least not as it concerns his body shape.
Is his beard trimmed and oiled? Always. He's damn near neurotic about it.
Is he always freshly showered, groomed, and cologne-d? Without a doubt. It's a point of pride.
Does the watch he's wearing compliment his clothing? he spends a STUPID amount of time thinking about it.
Will he gain another pound if he eats the Oreo cheesecake at the end of the night? Yep. And he'll enjoy every. Single. Second of it.
Price is as close to a foodie as a purebred military man can get. He loves cooking, and he recently remodeled his kitchen. He has GREAT taste in wine and spirits, and has spent a significant amount on amassing a good collection in his house.
If there's one word that describes Price, it's this: DECADENCE.
This man drinks, smokes, and eats as much as he pleases because he's lived long enough to learn the value of hedonism.
Why skip the cigs for the cigar when you could smoke both? Why stop at popping a just a single bottle bottle? Why not order the most expensive steak on the menu? Or the thickest slice of chocolate cake you've ever seen? What, like he'll regret it?
Price doesn't regret anything, and his body reflects that.
Of course, due to his profession, he never truly falls out of athletic shape (he's ready to be called away at a moments notice, after all). But he's LONG SINCE ditched his glory days. Like the others, his body fluctuates between highly cut to soft around the edges.
Price is thick around the ribs and plush in the chest. His weight settles around his hips and arms, making his biceps fluff up if he eats enough. His stomach is soft and sweet. So are his thighs.
The only thing that doesn't change?
The hair. Holy shit this man has a lot of chest hair.
All in all, Price likes a good meal, but he's still in elite fighting shape. Though, unlike the other three, his age stops him from being purely athletic. If anything, he looks more like a construction worker or landscaper. Someone who spent a long time building things with their hands instead of running laps around the track.
Now, what was that about decadence? Drinking, smoking, eating...
Price was indulgent in every sense of the word. Indulgent to himself, to his friends, and to his family.
But in bed?
The way Price fucks makes you understand why people let their teeth rot for another bite of Halloween candy.
Price wouldn't know moderation if it hit him in the face. And when it comes to your pleasure, to your body in and of itself, Price will be damned if you walk away without a smile on your face.
He's a service Dom through and through. Hell, just feeling your cunt clench around his fingers, your voice crying through another orgasm, is nearly enough to make him cum in his pants.
He'd done it before, too.
Was he embarrassed about it?
Not at all.
"John," you gasp, watching his length twitch rapidly beneath his jeans, a wet spot appearing at the top of his bulge, "Did you just..."
"Yeah," he groans between kisses, "So what?"
"It's—It's just that...isn't that a little—"
"Embarrassing?" he chuckles, "Hardly...Not if you'll go as red as I think you will when I let you lick me clean."
To John, watching you lap at his softening cock--and enjoy it too--is more than enough to get his blood pumping.
He'd always give you exactly what you want...even if you didn't have the guts to ask for it aloud.
#slaterbabyasks#archive of our own#fanfic#call of duty modern warfare 2#simon ghost riley#simon ghost riley x reader#fanfiction#simon ghost riley x you#captain price smut#captain john price#captain price#captain price x female reader#captain price x reader#captain price x you#captain price x y/n#gaz x oc#kyle gaz garrick#kyle garrick#modern warfare#mwii#cod#gaz cod#soap call of duty#johnny soap mactavish#soap x reader#call of duty#soap x y/n#soap x you#soap x oc#simon ghost x you
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• Life •
Sukuna grappling becoming a father while you give birth.
CW/TW: GN! reader, Labour/Childbirth, Sukuna typical violence mentions, BRIEF suggestive stuff, Nothing graphic, Religious metaphors & LOTS of life/death talk, (LMK if I should add anything else!)
Characters: Sukuna x Reader
AN: Nobody dies in this fic! It's fluff-ish. (It's Sukuna and reader giving birth, as fluffy as that can be man), prequel to this Descendant fic
Life was such a fickle thing, not that it mattered to Sukuna. He was above life, death sickness and health, beyond it, above the proper empathy to care for it. It wasn't that he didn't understand, because he did, once mortal himself, and existing on this earth surrounded by the humanity that populated on it for years as a curse, he understood. But there was no legitimate reason for it to matter to him unless he could gain from a life, there was no reason to mind it.
And by the loose, greedy and otherwise just gluttonous standards of what it meant to be a creature of 'gain' to Sukuna, you fit it to the T, your life mattered to him. Your life, it was something he wanted, no needed to maintain to be kept satisfied, if you weren't there to be by his side, he'd be left starved.
To lose such a thing, would only ignite a certain wrath inside of him.
The screams of agony that parted from your pretty little lips had his chest twisting into a feeling of irritation. He much preferred your screams of ecstasy, making you scream his name in sweet pretty moans when he bedded you. Not this, screams of something he was also the culprit of in fairness, sobbed screams of pain as your body tore to birth his child.
Sukuna enjoyed such screeches of terror, weak defeated sobs he could rip and tear from the pathetic lot of mortals he terrorized, all of whose lives served no purpose to him. The issue is, yours does serve purpose, a great purpose to Sukuna. You're always there, by his side, and when you're not, it bothers him, he's greedy, hungry for you.
Your pain only infuriates him, he doesn't like it at all, no, he loathes listening to it.
Finally, finally, it stops after what felt like torturously long, it comes to a stop. Like that, the tightness inside his chest unwrapped, Sukuna didn't think he'd ever feel relief, he wouldn't need to, he had never fought an opponent he couldn't defeat, pillaged an army that would come close to his strength there was no concerns or worry for him to have to be relieved from. Yet here he was basking in such relief. Your screams stop, now instead replaced by the bothersome cries of something much more smaller. Squeaky small wails, that of an infant. his infant.
"Lord Sukuna." A muttered voice of one of the midwives comes through the door separating Sukuna from the delivery room. The door opens to the midwives attending finishing up and then all bowing in submission, their heads hanging low as Sukuna stands by the door-frame.
"Done?" He asks, more so a statement, a demand as everything he speaks is.
"Yes-" The meek voice of a midwife responds, she not daring to look up from the floor of the delivery room.
"Then what the hell are you dimwitted fools doing? OUT." There's the slightest growl in his voice at the command, one that though slight works wonders on any who dare stand in his presence, and to which without a moment of hesitation has all the midwives scatter out of the room, rushing out with their heads low. Only one pauses to shut the door behind herself, not wanting to risk the stupidity of leaving the door open.
Now, only the sounds of a baby's cries echo in the room, the small thing wrapped, protected in a small blanket. The moment is deafening as it is loud, there are as many thoughts as there is nothing in his eyes as he stares at the small baby you held. Yes, you made his child, 9 tedious months of him practically carrying you around everywhere and it was out now.
Sukuna was, well Sukuna, he didn't bother thinking much of the specifics, but rather the obvious reality of the situation during those passing months, and didn't see a reason to. He could still sleep with you, could still have you around, could still listen to your voice speak with him in converse. Was it different? Sure, but in no way that bothered him. Cravings? The King of the Curses can provide feasts. Tired? You needn't walk, he has four arms for a reason. The bodily change? Sukuna guts humans like pigs, the size of your stomach was far from grotesque to such a demon like Sukuna.
But now, he is met with the reality, the sight, the sound the smell of the newborn babe, absolutely reeking of familiarity, a literal complete being of two halves, Sukuna and you. It's overwhelming, and not in the way Sukuna likes, not in the hedonistic pleasures he enjoys but rather overwhelming in thoughts. Thoughts as rampant as blank in his mind, fogged like he was considering all of this.
"Sukuna." A clear call of his name comes from your throat despite its audible hoarseness of exhaustion, still as captivating as always, catching his entire attention. No one can command the Sukuna, but he doesn't need to be commanded when you call for him, because it's in his full will and gratification to come to your side, which he of course does. Stepping softly to where you are laid, surrounded by stained sheets, tools and incense presumably used in aid of the birth.
"What?" His throat rumbles, a question with no particular answer aside from the obvious literal whole baby you had birthed in your arms.
"Look at them... Beautiful, aren't they?" And perhaps by the grace of a god he'd doubted existed, there was a moment of serenity now, the fog cleared from the depths of his sick mind as he gazed upon the small bundle in your arms. That was your grace perhaps, no definitely, definitely your grace, you had bore his child.
That damned sinister grin came over his face as he reached down to the infant, the large monstrously large hand of his ever so delicately traced the cheek of the little one, a comical contrast between himself and the child. For the entirety of you and Sukuna's time spent together, he had considered you the only life that truly mattered to him, and now you had created a life from the mere womb, you've given him another life he'd find true importance in.
His child's life, blessed by the sanctified arms that cradled it.
"Divine, rather." He rumbled, a short snicker leaving his twisted tongue, but laced with genuine adoration. Utter devotion to this small life, to both two lives he had found himself so graciously gifted. Of you, of his child.
#jjk x reader#sukuna x reader#dad!sukuna#jjk#ryomen sukuna x reader#ryomen sukuna#sukuna x you#no use of y/n#true form sukuna#dad sukuna#jujutsu kaisen x reader#sukuna jjk
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yes it’s just hair and it’ll grow back but i was just barely liking my hair and now it’s gonna take me another 3 years to get it to a length i don’t hate myself with
#taylor.txt#it was my own choice and it was for the best i know#but i fucking hate how i look with short hair like i legitimately loath myself and how i look#i needed to get rid of the bleach damage and i needed to get rid of everything she’d touched
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I’m a fierce believer and defender of Smooth Brain Astarion (affectionate).
I love that, if left to his own devices, he ends up dead in a ditch. I love that this pasty menace of an elf is a walking disaster. I love that his brain produces one coherent thought per day, only to have it backfire on him later on. I love that his first choice in freedom is to unapologetically be the worst version of himself. Because it makes sense.
That’s what abuse and trauma do to your brain—they fuck with it.
And in Astarion’s defence, the man didn’t have to use his brain for nearly 200 years—it’s probably the very thing that kept him as alive as he can be; to survive 200 years of pure shit.
And what use is his brain when his days and nights are dictated by someone else for as long as he can remember? When he has no say in what clothes he wears. When he doesn’t get to choose what or when to eat. When his body and mind aren’t his own, distorted by torture and hunger and self-loathing, forced to obey his vampiric master. Why use his brain when his survival depends exclusively on his abuser’s whims?
Astarion could’ve come up with the most brilliant plan possible to escape Cazador or save a mark from their doom, but he never stood a chance of succeeding—which doesn’t mean that he didn’t get punished for trying (or even thinking about it) anyway.
Existing under Cazador was a game he couldn’t win, so why bother playing?
And it’s only by chance that Astarion’s autonomy is returned to him literally overnight. It’s only natural that he’s overwhelmed by his newfound freedom. How is he expected to make sound decisions when he can’t even recall a time when he could do and say as he pleased?
Of course Astarion is a walking disaster when he finds himself on that beach after the Nautiloid crash—and he’s fully aware of that! That’s why it’s so crucial for him to get on the player’s/other companion’s good side.
He’s self-aware enough to be so insecure about himself that he would rather trust a stranger’s capabilities than his own.
Being a catastrophe of a person is part of Astarion’s character journey. Not only does he have to reclaim his personhood, he has to learn how to depend on his own brain again and I think that's such a painfully beautiful, important message Baldur’s Gate 3 sends.
Because healing isn’t pretty. Nor is it easy.
You’re not alright the moment you’re free of whatever horrors you had to live through—and that’s ok! There’s time and room for you to adjust.
And the moment Astarion feels more or less safe within his new environment, when he’s fed and treated like a person worthy of respect and consideration, his insights, skills and perception are crucial assets to the group.
Astarion knows his art and literature, and although his little remarks are unhinged at times, he's genuinely witty. Even his objections are, considering the circumstances, absolutely legitimate.
Personally, I love seeing Smooth Brain Astarion become more and more secure in his judgement the more Tav/other companions trust and support him.
Astarion is smart, his brain’s just been stewed for nearly 200 years.
#baldur’s gate 3#bg3#baldur’s gate iii#astarion#astarion ancunin#bg3 astarion#astarion headcanons#smooth brain astarion I will defend you until you can do it yourself#trauma can give you literal brain damage#of course he's a little eccentric#tw: trauma#tw: abuse#smooth brain astarion
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kinda obsessed w west of loathing. cant wait to get shadows over loathing for myself for Christmas
#txt#west of loathing#fun funny game love it#CAN U BELIEVE I GOT IT LIKE 2 YEARS AGO AND NEVER BOTHERED TO FINISH IT? HOW DARE I#its fine though bc i finished it just in time for christmas#doc alice is my fave also and id legitimately die for her
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Why do online leftists seem to think that voting is a matter of moral purity instead of a purely utilitarian action done in concert with other more effective forms of advocacy and direct action?
Inability or unwillingness to break down what voting actually means I guess. Whether they realize it or not, everyone not voting as a matter of solidarity with Gaza is effectively making themselves a single-policy voter, thus signaling that all the myriad of other very important factors are unimportant to them.
Trump wants to genocide trans people, while Biden doesn't? Doesn't matter because they're both terrible for Gaza.
Trump wants poor people to be thrown in prison and made to work under our modern-day chattel slavery prison system, while Biden wants to legalize marijuana and forgive nonviolent crime? Doesn't matter because they're both terrible for Gaza.
Trump wants to reduce taxes on the rich and stop funding public works and infrastructure, while Biden is putting billions of dollars into trying to revitalize rail-based infrastructure and public transit? Doesn't matter because they're both terrible for Gaza.
Like, I get it! I really really do! I want so fucking badly for America to stop being a fucking menace to the rest of the world and to stop fucking propping up Israel as a legitimate state that is constantly committing genocide. I really really do! But I have to recognize that I do not have the power to change that part of this country, much as I might loathe it, by not voting!
The best thing I can do right now is try to do everything I can to prevent things getting worse, and to improve the few things I can. I can't start some glorious revolution. I can't write up a world-changing manifesto that magically convinces the entire country to change the system to something better! I just can't, and that sucks!
It really really sucks to be helpless to change things, particularly when that thing is literal genocide, but putting your head in the sand and letting it get even worse is not the right play.
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