#like that’s one of the most disgusting and disturbing things of this whole thing

[kingofmyborrowedheart]

I’m absolutely disgusted by how eager Justin Baldoni was to use the stories of domestic violence victims to prop himself up as a feminist ally, all the while he was committing sexual harassment against his cast members on set.

[hollowed-theory-hall]

Of all the disturbing things that happened to Harry, I think the graveyard scene really takes it. It's horrific on so many different levels, and everytime I read it, something new sticks out to me. The last time, it was the death eaters laughing at Harry. A bunch of grown men laughing at one of the darkest wizards torturing and mocking a fourteen year old. Like it's actually insane, whether they were trying to appease Voldemort or were really entertained by the whole thing.

I know! I feel the same way about that scene. It's really no wonder Harry was as traumatized as he was in OotP (honestly, he's incredibly resilient, all things considered). The graveyard was awful. And their laughing is some of the worst of it:

The Death Eaters were laughing again. Voldemort’s lipless mouth was smiling. Harry did not bow. He was not going to let Voldemort play with him before killing him . . . he was not going to give him that satisfaction. . . . “I said, bow,” Voldemort said, raising his wand — and Harry felt his spine curve as though a huge, invisible hand were bending him ruthlessly forward, and the Death Eaters laughed harder than ever.

(GoF, Ch34)

Especially when you read Harry's thoughts about the Cruciatus and how he wants to die so it will end and they laugh:

“Crucio!” It was pain beyond anything Harry had ever experienced; his very bones were on fire; his head was surely splitting along his scar; his eyes were rolling madly in his head; he wanted it to end . . . to black out . . . to die . . . And then it was gone. He was hanging limply in the ropes binding him to the headstone of Voldemort’s father, looking up into those bright red eyes through a kind of mist. The night was ringing with the sound of the Death Eaters’ laughter.

(GoF, Ch33)

But the part that stuck out to me the most last time I read it was this moment:

he had been hit again by the Cruciatus Curse. The pain was so intense, so all-consuming, that he no longer knew where he was. . . . White-hot knives were piercing every inch of his skin, his head was surely going to burst with pain, he was screaming more loudly than he’d ever screamed in his life — And then it stopped. Harry rolled over and scrambled to his feet; he was shaking as uncontrollably as Wormtail had done when his hand had been cut off; he staggered sideways into the wall of watching Death Eaters, and they pushed him away, back toward Voldemort.

(GoF, Ch34)

Not only are the DE laughing at him, but they pushed a pained, shaking, and stumbling 14-year-old kid back into the circle to be tortured again!

Harry was stumbling over himself, barely getting onto his feet, and they pushed him down again and laughed. A bunch of grown-ass men. It's disgusting and horrifying. Like, them pushing Harry back towards Voldemort when he's barely walking and shaking all over disgusts me. That is so vile.

I think a good chunk of them seem to be 100% going along with Voldemort of their own free will and not just for his favor (though, I think that is part of it). After all, they did stuff like that on their own volition earlier in the book:

The floating people were suddenly illuminated as they passed over a burning tent and Harry recognized one of them: Mr. Roberts, the campsite manager. The other three looked as though they might be his wife and children. One of the marchers below flipped Mrs. Roberts upside down with his wand; her nightdress fell down to reveal voluminous drawers and she struggled to cover herself up as the crowd below her screeched and hooted with glee. “That’s sick,” Ron muttered, watching the smallest Muggle child, who had begun to spin like a top, sixty feet above the ground, his head flopping limply from side to side. “That is really sick. . . .”

(GoF, Ch9)

I really hope these DE didn't get to escape Azkaban for a second time after the second war (the ones that survived it, that is).

GoF has always been my favorite in the series and its darkest moments are part of why. Sure, there are horrific moments in the later books, but the shock of the graveyard scene is unparalleled for me in this series in the kind of horror it hits. Nothing later hits quite the same when it comes to the helplessness of it. To how Harry is certain he is going to die, that this is it. Unlike when he walks to his death in DH, in GoF, he wants to live so badly but he doesn't think he will — it's not a noble sacrifice, it's a child grasping at a chance to survive. And unlike at the end of OotP, he is completely and utterly alone. In the DoM, the Order and Dumbledore were right behind him and before they arrived he had friends with him, but in the graveyard, there was no one — just Harry against 30 Death Eaters and Voldemort. No one was coming for him, no one was coming to save him, Cedric just died, he was alone, and the only dueling spell he knew was Expelliarmus. It's horrifying and heartbreaking and it hits.

[blightbright]

Celene's abuse of Briala in the Masked Empire (and Mythal/Solas parallels)

I'm finally reading The Masked Empire and wow it's really sad! Let's talk about Briala and Solas!

Trick Weekes is making direct, intentional comparisons between Celene -> Mythal, Briala -> Solas, and Celene/Briala -> Mythal/Solas, comparisons that are actually Felassan's last fucking words as Solas kills him. (That's a whole other post btw.)

Solas in DA:I says re: Orlais, "The powerful have always been the same. Only the costumes change." AND THIS BOOK IS A REAL FUCKING BUMMER.

Briala isn't magically influenced, magically restricted, or enslaved, but as a servant, the book explicitly discusses how her role by default requires walking on eggshells around everyday verbal and physical violence and sexual assault from people who answer to Celene, which Celene does not defend her or other people from, because Celene enacts it too in her own way. And even when Briala tries to be obedient and careful, this violence happens anyway. Briala also stays in her role despite her own suffering because she doesn't have easy options, she sees her comparative privilege, AND she's trying to strategize to help oppressed people.

Celene thinks she's progressive because she's not just a free-for-all moustache-twirling warmonger like Gaspard (cough Elgar'nan cough) and because she advocates for inclusion of some elves into inherently oppressive structures that harm them in those spaces. Thanks to her, a rare number of elves can work really really extra special hard and prove they have approximately as much merit as humans while being shit on constantly, wow! Meanwhile, no systemic critiques. No questioning of her or anyone's right to rule over people at all.

In some ways Celene is progressive by comparison (just like Mythal doesn't want the entire world torn apart by Blight, unlike Elgar'nan lmao), but it's insidious neoliberal racism versus overtly hostile racism (both are white supremacist). She's been through trauma herself, she thinks she's doing right by her people, and she believes that she loves Briala. That makes Celene an interesting, well-written villain and it's truly disgusting to see her mindset, i.e., she "allows" Briala to sleep a little longer in her bed one morning without waking her up right away. She's so self-congratulatory about how much she must love her that she lets her servant get a few more minutes to doze (after sexually abusing her...) before more acts of servitude. She does not see Briala as a full, autonomous being. The only truly loving gesture I've read so far is a young Celene telling young Briala to run away and escape after Briala's parents are murdered (wanting a loved one to be free is actually love) except that she's the one who set Briala's parents up to get murdered in the first place, and (like Mythal in Solas' memory) Celene refuses to give up her power.

In Celene's entitled and completely fucked view of the world, she says she envies Briala and, even early on, the book reveals that Briala is not so naive or lovestruck after all. Briala is deeply disturbed by Celene's comment, then keeps acting. Briala knows. Even before the most extreme betrayals are revealed to Briala, some part of Briala knows that she's in Celene's bed because of oppression. She loves Celene, she's attracted to Celene, but part of her knows that she leans into her love and attraction because it's the only thing that makes what is ultimately a political survival strategy/resistance strategy (for herself and her people) tolerable and survivable at all. She's not entirely faking but she's also not whole or safe, and that combo is a truly awful mindfuck to experience. Celene "loves" Briala but does not love her at all, because as bell hooks said, love and abuse cannot coexist.

It's a fucked up situation. It is not consensual, no matter how much Briala may long to be near Celene and how much she may sometimes enjoy sex with her. In a position of power as the literal monarch of an entire empire, sexual contact with your elven servant who is always at threat of violence if they do not obey or even if they do but just because powerful people feel like it, is sexual assault. Period. No matter how "nice" you are sometimes. No matter how much you "let" them sleep in some days because they're pretty.

And, of course, Celene commits overt genocide/massacres an Alienage and actively chooses to stamp down an elven rebellion for her own power. By the time DA:I rolls around, Briala is a rebellion leader who loves her abuser/oppressor, grieves her abuser/oppressor, and is willing to let that oppressor die if it's the way people may one day be free, and I also think everything I just said is true for Solas, to whatever degree it is even magically possible for him to do anything about it directly. Since, of course, he is even more restricted spiritually than Briala is.

Mythal is different than Celene. In some ways, it's less racialized (Mythal and Solas have loosely the same origins), and it's less stable over time, since there is a possible interpretation where they historically knew each other as actual friends, equals, and maybe even pre-body spirit lovers if you wanna headcanon that, whatever that word means for spirits (whereas Celene has always had power over Briala, even as children). Some of it is nearly identical, however. There are multiple Evanuris-related codexes and flashbacks that have direct parallels. We're seeing the gist of what Mythal as "the best of the Evanuris" was like when we see Weekes write Celene. Think about what also-abused Morrigan approves or disapproves of (parroting her mother's beliefs) at the start of DA:O to add another layer of Mythal's mindset, which aligns directly with DA references to Mythal serving "justice" to "the worthy" and strong. Fuck that. True justice protects the most vulnerable. In some ways, Mythal/Solas is even worse than Celene/Briala, too: magical spirit corruption is an extreme and literal version of the real but less tangible impacts of trauma, plus actual bodily modification at best and creation/vaguely parental vibes at worst, slavery rather than servitude, the possibility of magically-compelled direct orders if Mythal ever decided to use them (per how the Well of Sorrows works in canon), and deity-level power, the only power level higher than empress.

Briala reminds Felassan of Solas, and he's right, of course.

TL;DR? This book is fucking sad. Neither Solas nor Briala are naive about their abusers. Mythal and Celene are absolutely both abusers to Solas and Briala respectively. Idk if Mythal and Solas had sexualized contact any time after she bound him to her service, but if they did, that's sexual abuse. Kill Celene in DA:I unless you wanna do an evil playthrough. Free Solas in DATV. Briala and Solas both need hugs and safe love, not abuse couched in messages of love. They've both done some fucked up things, and that doesn't change anything I stated above.

[cinnbar-bun]

Monster (JoFoes x Reader)

Characters: Dio Brando (PB), Kars, DIO (SDC), Yoshikage Kira, Diavolo, Enrico Pucci, and Funny Valentine (sorry I have not finished JJL yet so no [spoiler])

Prompt: "He's a wolf in disguise / But I can't stop staring in those evil eyes."

Summary: Their "love" for you comes in many different, untraditional ways. Some more dangerous than the others.

Rating: Mixture of SFW + NSFW, but please mind the warnings.

Notes: Reader is GN! and no specific body parts are mentioned for them. Spoilers I guess for their plans? Reader is a human in all of them, Reader replaces Shinobu + Hayato's roles, not much NSFW for Pucci's part in all honesty, FV is a widower (no Scarlet involved).

Warnings: Toxic relationships, MAJOR power imbalances for all of them (maybe minus Kira's). Heavy religion mentions for Pucci (although Reader is not specified to be Christian). This isn't soft or lovey-dovey (but I can do one later), so pleaseeeeee do not read if those kinds of topics make you uncomfortable.

Word Count: ~4.5k (kill me I lost my mind writing this)

Read on my AO3 here!

Taglist (if you'd like to be added, fill out the form in my pinned): @adeadcreator @bruabbina @gingernut1314 @over--heaven

Dio Brando (Phantom Blood) 

He most likely was pursuing you long before the mask ever took hold of him. He didn’t do it out of pure love- more likely it was for entertainment and as a chance to hold another thing over Jonathan. 

Dio despises how Jonathan attempts to be friendly with you and often will do what it takes to turn you against the poor guy. 

He doesn’t even know why he is so adamant Jonathan stays away from you, even more so than with anyone else. He feels a possessiveness towards you that cannot be contained or described in words. 

He masks most of his disturbing thoughts and possessiveness for you underneath a facade of charming elegance. He’ll play the part of a picture perfect boyfriend for as long as he needs to. 

But even he has to admit he has trouble holding back all these disgusting feelings for you. You frustrate him in a way few ever have and ever will. 

Despite his haughty attitude over Jonathan and his eagerness to get ahead, Dio is actually grossed out by himself tremendously with you. He recognizes after getting wasted once again that he is just like his bastard of a father, Dario, and it settles in a gross pit in the bottom of his stomach. 

It’s wretched, honestly. While he continuously acts bigger and better than ever to get you to fall further for him, he refuses intimacy or overtly physical gestures. Sharing Dario’s blood with this body makes him sickened at attempting to do anything like that with you. 

Compared to his earlier brazen behavior, when he begins to get possessive and attached to you, he almost retreats and refuses to allow himself the chance at intimacy with you. 

However… once he puts on the mask and rejects his humanity, Dio becomes a whole new wicked beast. 

While he still has sentimental feelings for you, his aggressiveness grows almost tenfold. 

Likes to have you sit on his lap while he strokes your head and monologues about his ideals or shows you horrifying imagery. 

Blood. Lots of blood. 

You’re the only one he attempts to keep alive and refuses to let the others feed off of. If you are to ever be used as sustenance, it is by him and him alone. He gets actively violent against his subordinates if they even think of touching you.

In this stage, he’s more open to intimacy. A bit more, but not at his full peak (we’ll get to that later). 

However, the arousal he has is mostly fueled by his bloodlust and hunger. Feedings of you tend to occur after one of his many minions causes some chaos or he gets word of more destruction and feels a possessive streak. 

He is pretty sensual, taking his time to showcase how much stronger he is, how much better he is now that he has become an undead horror of the night. But that sensuality is still layered with a hint of hunger and obsessiveness towards you that he cannot contain. 

He’s less controlled about his feelings now towards you. His eccentricities make him more likely to just take you randomly at anytime without a care of what is going on around him. And he will verbally tell you them aloud now, enabled by his own inhumanity. 

“I can smell your fear, darling. Your heart is pounding fast… tell me, do you desire something more than this innocent petting, dear?” 

Loves to bite you and leave marks on you. He likes to have his fangs scratch against your skin before he sucks on that spot. His favorite places include your neck but also in more hidden places like your inner thighs. 

Your blood is the most delicious thing he’s ever tasted. He’s addicted to the taste and savors it more than a fine wine. He has to remind himself to take it easy because as much as he loves your taste, you’re still mortal and he has to keep you alive. 

Kars 

As a Pillar Man, he does not think highly of humans like you. You are a mere mortal, and where you belong is below him. Hardly even worth a glance at all. 

But for some reason, despite your status, he found himself protecting you from an encounter with someone trying to rob you late at night. He doesn’t even know why he jumped in to do so, but the look of reverence and awe in your eyes at his display of strength made him… intrigued. 

He doesn’t hold back. He tells you everything, because, really, what are you going to do about it? You couldn’t escape even if you tried. 

And now, you live your life as his human… pet? Partner? Servant? Thing…? 

He’s very unclear about it. Some days he ignores you, and other days he mulls over his thoughts to you while he strokes your head. 

Kars rarely ever gets aroused. He’s not a primitive beast and he’s very focused on his goals. 

But, intellectually, he is curious about how you behave around him. He kind of likes the attention you give him and he recognizes how you’re affected by him physically. 

One thing he’s super proud of? His voice. He knows how his voice can turn you on and drive you mad. He likes to get close to your and have his breath tickle your skin before he whispers words of praise for you doing so well for him. 

“Oh, little one, you’re shivering. Are you afraid? Or are you excited?” 

His favorite thing is to get you incredibly aroused while barely touching you. 

Enjoys you riding his thigh- you look like a wanton little beast who can barely contain themself from him. 

Kars likes you vocal, so that means you better be moaning, groaning, gasping, sobbing, and thanking him loudly. He doesn’t care who hears. If you try to hold your voice back he gets rougher to have you be louder. 

Most of your intimate encounters will be him getting you off in order to humiliate yourself/hear you praise him. But in the few times he does find himself craving your body, be prepared. 

He is huge. That doesn’t need to be stated but he’s big. Muscular. Strong. Tall. And he’s got full control of nearly every fiber of his body. As the perfect being, he knows he’s well-endowed and uses it to his advantage. 

Some days he’s merciful and likes to take his time and prepare you. He’ll coo to you as if you are a mindless little animal (you probably will be after how well he stimulates you) and praise you for taking him so well.

“How precious. Control your breaths, pet. You can’t be this exhausted when we’ve barely begun yet. Now… relax yourself.” 

Other days, he’s merciless and will use you without abandon. His cruelty and dominating nature comes out full force. 

“Hmph, is this how you treat your new god? Beg better, or I’ll stop. You should be grateful I even deign to touch your mortal body.” 

Although he insists he is not affected by your presence or that you are but a toy for him to entertain himself with, if someone were to threaten to harm or take you back (ie. Joseph/Caesar), he will step in and put an end to that foolish thought. 

“It is unwise of you to think that you will take what is mine away from me.” 

DIO (Stardust Crusaders)

A Dio fully in touch with his desires with little remorse or care. This new body of his makes him more confident and lecherous. 

The many ‘victims’ that take up his bedchambers are usually fodder he disposes of quickly. And the ones that are ‘lucky’ enough to escape are very few. 

You happen to be fortunately (or unfortunately) be his favorite. And being Dio’s favorite means many things. 

You get special privileges almost no one else receives. Only you are allowed to caress and touch him so brazenly and easily, and only you can get somewhat mouthy with him. 

He spoils you with fancier foods and drinks to fill you to your heart’s content. While others can argue over scraps, he gives you the opportunity to sit on his lap and feed him. And if he’s feeling nice, he’ll feed you too. 

You also are practically immune to anything, so long as you keep remaining his favorite. If a minion tries something with you? Dead. Someone from the ‘harem’ insults you? Dead. Hell, a bird made too loud of a noise? Dead. He finds it hilarious to inflict damage due to his whims and somewhat twisted obsession with you. 

“Hoh? Does it please you, knowing your lord is willing to go to such lengths to keep you safe? Now, what will you do to showcase how pleased you are?” 

Most people catch on very quickly to stay away from you, lest they face an untimely death. 

But it does mean he expects you to serve his every whim quickly. He’s so demanding with you, annoyingly so, actually, and he does it to mess with you. You’re his favorite but he will still be a joker with you. 

He feeds on you often, but is in enough control to reign himself from taking all your blood. Sometimes he “jokes” that he just wants to drain you dry, but it’s up in the air. 

Dio is pretty selfish in bed. Often he lays back and expects you to ride him, like a good pet should do for their lord. Go on, earn your keep. 

He enjoys clawing at your skin and caressing the scratches he leaves on you later on. 

Is not ashamed of making a public spectacle of you if he feels like it. Get used to him continuing to pound into you while Hol Horse attempts to give him a report update. 

He takes his frustration and anger out on you physically. When he gets news that the Crusaders have foiled another batch of minions, he might go get his violent (and bloody) fill with a few random mortals, then return to you and sternly tell you to get on your knees. The stone cold expression on his face makes the room drop a few degrees and he will not talk much in these sessions. 

Dio likes putting you in difficult situations for the thrill of it. Your reactions are always interesting, solidifying his interest in you. 

He does admit that he’d probably never put you first above his plans (which he seldom talks about except when you two are relaxing after an intense night) and sardonically chuckles that he may enjoy you now, but it can all change if you stop being ‘fun’ for him. 

But when Hol Horse attempts to grab you to threaten Dio, Dio’s face hardens in a way no one has ever seen before, and Hol Horse immediately aborts the plan. You’ve never seen Dio look that terrifying before. 

He doesn’t speak of that event again, instead telling you to return to the room and stay there. 

Expect him to keep him closer and have a tighter grip around you. 

Yoshikage Kira 

Hiding in plain sight has never been so easy for Kira after having his face switched with the poor sucker at Cinderella salon. 

He could lie a bit longer, play pretend as a dutiful husband as this random man whose appearance he has taken. 

He returns home to see you, the partner of the man he just took over, and he knows he’s in for trouble. He’s going to have to not only fend off suspicion from everyone else in town, but especially within his own home. He no longer has a safe space and it frustrates him. 

He has never been in a formal romantic relationship, but he attempts to act ‘normal’, keeping some distance but still ‘polite’. 

You don’t seem to suspect much- or maybe you’re just so happy to see some changes in your former husband- and always like to chat with Kira. At first he finds it dull and grating, despising how you talk about nothing useful. 

But he can’t be too bland, so he’ll respond back. Usually one word responses and the like just to satiate you enough to get him off his back. 

However, you’ll occasionally discuss a topic he is more interested in and then he’ll give you more of his personal opinion on the subject. Kira didn’t expect to find some comfort with having another person to share these discussions with. 

And while he hated the fact his normal schedule before acting as your husband changed, he slowly starts to grow fond of his new routine with you. Waking up and receiving a goodbye kiss before he goes off to work has become his new morning energizer. Coming home to see the table set with you waiting for him makes the nights a bit more pleasant. 

He’ll never really recognize if he enjoys this for real or if he’s doing this to keep up the act of a ‘good husband’. He’ll just let the days continue to go on like this while he loses the others off his back. 

Although, one thing that really took him off guard was your heavy affection and sexual desires for him. You have nice hands, he’ll give you that, but he was so taken aback by your behavior. Apparently, throughout the whole night when you dressed up extra nice for him and made him his favorite meal and were complimenting him and swooning over him- that supposedly meant you wanted to take him to the room for some bed breaking action. 

He honestly was so shocked that this was what your behavior meant and he had take a moment to recollect himself. Kira declined that first night because he truly has never had sex with another person, less so someone he was pretending to be married to. He was not mentally prepared for that to be thrown at him.

After calming himself down in a few days, he does attempt to be more physically intimate with you. 

Yeah he’s mostly focused on your hands at first. He still doesn’t recognize if he actually loves you yet, but he won’t decline you giving him a handjob or stroking your hands over his toned body. And he’s always ready to be licking your hands. 

After a few more times of these rather awkward and selfish sessions, he does pay it back and begins to explore your body more. He finds himself fascinated with how your chest rises and falls with every shaky breath and moan you let out. He likes the way your eyes roll into the back of your head. 

His compulsive tendencies do appear in the bedroom, and he does let them out, but they honestly come off as roleplay. It’s kinda hot to hear your normally calm husband just huff and lecture you while he bends your body around roughly to ‘set you straight’.  

“Enough of that. Seriously, can you not even put yourself together correctly? If you can’t dress properly, then don’t bother wearing anything at all.” 

He’s way too deep into this marriage life with you, getting extra frustrated if anyone dares to disturb whatever you two have going on. 

Diavolo 

He falls in lust first. He hasn’t learned his lesson from the last time. Diavolo is a heavy believer in the concept of ‘Fate’, but he believes he is the ‘King’ who can overcome it. 

Surely… ‘fate’ wanted you to be his subordinate. 

You do a wonderful job, you never ask any questions that are unnecessary, and you never stray too far from what he’s asked. You always manage to get the job done in your own, unique way. 

You’re his most trusted subordinate (underneath Doppio), and Diavolo can’t help but feel that selfish urge to contain you as a part of him forever. You’re attractive, so cunning, and so loyal to him- something that makes him believe you were meant to be ‘his’. 

He’s run from his past for so long, but that makes him cocky. If you were to somehow lose his interest, he surely would overcome this ‘challenge’ and defy your fate, too. You’ll never know what hit you. Not to mention, he completely believes he’ll be able to keep you in check and under his thumb. He’s learned that much from his time.

So he lets himself be known to you, after all, good servants deserve some ‘rewards’ from their king, do they not? 

He is a cruel man in bed, doing almost everything in his power to exert his control over you and dominate you. 

Bondage, toys, threats, punishments, and even using King Crimson are not too out of line for this sadist. 

He enjoys overstimulating you, loving the way you babble nonsense and tell him it’s ‘too much’. 

The louder and messier it is, the better. Anything to show you who is the one in control and in charge, and where your proper place as his most devoted servant is. 

He insists on a BDSM lifestyle outside of the bedroom too. Diavolo is not short on funds, so he’ll gift you an expensive accessory (probably with built in tracking on it) as a ‘reminder’ of who you belong to. 

But knowing Diavolo, it’s a veiled threat. Fail to comply with his demands, fail to be entertaining to him, or worst of all, fail to keep his trust- you’ll be dealt with swiftly. Choose wisely when he ‘graciously’ lets you roam free. 

He’s pretty giving otherwise. His constant jumping from villa to villa or hotel makes him take you with him and allow you some luxuries in those areas. You will always have a private suite away from the rabble and be able to relax. 

Diavolo finds it sweet that you’ll trace the paisley tattoos/markings on his arm (sorry I like tattoos so uh-). He’ll let you do it for a bit, all while smirking down at you in amusement. 

“Enjoying yourself, tesoro mio?” 

Gets incredibly angry at the thought of someone touching you or finding you. Not purely out of love- but as a desire to keep you to him. If someone figured out your relationship with him, he’d have to swiftly deal with them and possibly you to keep himself hidden. 

He does trust Doppio to escort you and take care of you, allowing him to be perhaps the only other person to see you physically and take you around wherever Diavolo needs you to be taken. 

Surprisingly, Diavolo likes to listen to the opera and will play some records for you both to listen to while you both unwind or he is working on mundane things for Passione. 

Enrico Pucci 

A master manipulator who believes everything he’s doing is for your own good. He meets in the prison- you’re down on your luck, but you’re earnest and seeking redemption. How could he not want to give you the peace you’ve been searching for? 

As the chaplain of Green Dolphin, he does get more access to you than others get, as well as allowing you the chance to take a break from your prison activities to talk or assist him. 

He believes the chance meeting with you, you who was so pitiful in the chapel and begging for anything to comfort you in your hard time, was another mechanization of “gravity”. 

It was simply fate to meet you, and it was fated that he had to be the one to save you. Perhaps this was a second chance at something he needed to do to be redeemed. Perhaps this was him seeing a kindred spirit within you.

Pucci takes it upon himself to offer you counsel or give you a moment of reprise. Once you two get closer, he begins to encourage more discussion and debate from you. 

“Humans are powerless to oppose fate. Wouldn’t you agree on that?” 

But Pucci is obviously not the completely helpful priest he acts as, as his more sinister and rough behaviors come out the more he is ‘pulled’ to you. 

Pucci does continue to use Whitesnake as a mouthpiece, often to voice more ‘warnings’ to you so you do not get scared of Pucci directly. Obviously Whitesnake is just a separate being from Pucci, and you have nothing to worry about, because you obviously were not planning on doing anything to jeopardize Pucci’s goals or ideals, right? 

He uses his authority and standing in Green Dolphin to get his way. Whether it is ridding of annoying prisoners or guards who bother you, or having you isolated as ‘punishment’ for perhaps doing something he didn’t like, Pucci will pull as many strings as he must. 

Only he has your best interests in mind, and only he is the one who can give you salvation and the hope you long for. He is your ‘fate’ so long as you comply. 

He has to admit, he is curious to get your Memory DISC to see all your memories. But he recognizes that would possibly be a step too far (he has some boundaries, he thinks) and attempts to get you to admit your memories on your own. 

Incredibly attentive and will recall anything you’ve told him with 100% accuracy. It can be comforting and nice when you want to vent or talk to him. Do not think you can lie your way around him, though. Whether you’ve intentionally lied to him or not, he will promptly correct you and tell you to be truthful. 

Pucci believes the Heaven Plan will save you and make you more willing to accept your fate. He confesses to you that what he’s doing will make you happier, will make you more free, and will make your tears dry up. 

Although he says that, sometimes, when he looks at you, he does get those same feelings from before he met Dio. Those dreams of running away, running far away and committing blasphemous acts with you, much like those of the novels he’s read. He brushes them aside and counts prime numbers to rid himself of those ideas. He’s so close to his goal. 

“Enough, Pucci. Enough. You’ve committed to this. You’re doing this for the good of humanity. Even if it’s hard, they’ll understand. They’ll come to learn to love their new life and accept their fate with a smile.” 

Funny Valentine 

Funny prioritizes public appearance and his goals over his private life. Despite Scarlet being gone from the picture, he isn’t all that distraught. But being a ‘widower’ does give him some sympathy from the public that he uses to leverage good PR. 

And you are such a helpful assistant to him. You always have everything under control, every plan together, and whatever he may need quickly finished and given to him without him having to utter a word. 

That competence is quite attractive to him, more so than your physical features (which he does enjoy and did catch his eye before). 

He thinks to himself as a joke that he’d just adore having multiple copies of you running around the White House (and in the room) thanks to D4C, but he knows how dangerous it would be to play with your life like that. You’re so useful to him now, so he’ll care for you. 

Funny pulls lots of all-nighters, especially during the Steel Ball Run, and that means, likewise, you are too, as his devout assistant. This does mean he’s more tired, but also more personable than his stern public face. 

Sometimes he rambles about anecdotes from his time in the army or working as a senator. Sometimes he’ll tell a bad joke that makes you laugh from the fact that the strong president would say such a strange thing out of nowhere. But sometimes, he’ll admit how lonely it is, being the most powerful man in America. Especially without anyone beside him. 

He takes advantage of the sob story he has to get you to be more vulnerable with him. And when you comfort him and offer him some help, he is quite happy internally that you did exactly what he hoped you’d do, but outwardly acts humble. 

“How kind of you, dear. You needn’t worry about my nonsense, though. You aren’t on my payroll to be my personal therapist. I already stress you enough, as is.” 

But you insist and who is he to deny you? 

It doesn’t take long after that for your relationship to go beyond professional boundaries. A touch here, a longing gaze there- and Funny has to admit he enjoys the thrill of having a secret affair going on with his assistant right under the nose of the rest of the workers there. 

And, scandalously, Funny is a freak. A really freaky guy. 

Don’t get fooled by his professional nature and good posture that he displays for the newspapers. Funny is perhaps the most experimental and freaky man on the list, willing to try almost anything at least once (and it does give a good excuse to take you to his chambers). 

He indulges in plenty of kinks; bondage, domination (whether you or him), roleplay, exhibitionism- it doesn’t matter. 

But he will try to reign himself in because he is the president, even if he’d love nothing more than to have you on his desk and weeping for him. His biggest kink is roleplay, and in private, he will want to be addressed differently. This must go on at all times behind closed doors. Failure to adhere to his rules or attempting to embarrass him publicly will result in punishment. 

“You little brat! Have I not been clear on what you were to do? Or were you hoping I would take matters into my own hands? Hm, since you seem to enjoy acting so improper, perhaps I shall reteach you manners. Lay down, now. I hope you’re prepared for what’s coming.” 

Funny can look calm during any arguments he has with you, thus making him a tough man to debate. He is authoritative and believes he knows what’s best. While some backtalk is fine for the most part, after a while he puts his foot down and tells you to stop. 

But then you two see each other after you’ve calmed down, and he holds you while apologizing. He’ll insist he loves you very, very much, but he’s just under so much stress and while you may have your heart in the right place, there are some things that just can’t go as you like. 

Possessive when it comes to you, keeping you monitored by guards and by his side almost 24/7. You weren’t planning on betraying the country you love so much, were you, dear?

[elllisaaa]

no nut november - hwang hyunjin (1st to lose)

-> pairing : hyunjin x fem!reader

-> words count : 2,6k

-> genre : smut, etablished relation

-> warnings : slight pussydrunk!hyunjin, sending nudes, teasing, dirty talk, praising, unprotected sex, marking, oral (f. receiving), fingering, creampie, use of 'good girl', nipple play, begging + the way i'm depicting hyunjin does not represent him, it's only a work of fiction.

-> 18+ content bellow, minors dni

-> reblogs and feedbacks are appreciated ! sorry for any mistakes, english is not my first language

-> masterlist | skz masterlist | no nut november

When all the members agreed to this stupid bet, Hyunjin was determined not to lose, or at least, not to lose before Jisung. Everyone knew both of them would be the first to be out, it was obvious, but he had his pride. He just wanted to not be the first to lose. Because he had a bit of consciousness left ; his sex drive was too high to not do anything for a whole month, but one week, maybe he could handle it. 

He didn’t text you right away, thinking about all the things he had to do and that he would see you tonight ; he’ll tell you at this moment. But when he got home, you were not here, just a note saying you were spending the night at your best friend's because she wasn’t feeling well. Hyunjin didn’t think much of it, going on about his day casually texting with you. He didn’t recall the bet once because they had all agreed not to talk about it in order not to disturb them while they were working. 

It’s only when, three days after the agreement was made, you sent him a picture of you, wearing only your underwear, that he realized he totally forgot to tell you. He came very late last night and just wanted to sleep. And you left very early in the morning, which didn’t give him a chance to address a word to you. 

Hyunjin gulped loudly, closing his eyes and trying to think about all the most disgusting things he knew, just to stop the memories of you and your sweet voice moaning his name coming back into his mind. But it was too late. He had a bonner, and all he wanted was to came back home and fuck you. 

He resumed practicing his choreo, but all he was thinking about was you. Your face when he gave you what you wanted, your moans when he got down on you, your mouth wrapped around his cock, your tight little cunt that he was just wishing to be buried into right now. And all of that didn’t help him to calm down, nor the fact that you were actually still wearing only your underwear when he stepped into your apartment. He knew you were more comfortable like that when you were alone but you always put something back on before he got home - or you would end up fucking like bunnies everytime. But he came back earlier and the sight in front of his eyes was very, very tempting. 

“- Baby… Why are you doing this to me ?”

You turned around with a grin on your face, letting the meal you were cooking warm up behind you, still not aware of how difficult you were making it for him to keep his calm. 

“- Doing what ? Thought you liked it…”

You stopped the gas under your pot before stepping closer to him, noticing how tense his jaw was. 

“- Are you alright Jinnie ?

- Yeah, yeah, don’t worry. You’re just… I can’t resist.”

You couldn’t help but chuckle at his compliment. You always liked men being vocal about how much you were driving them crazy, and Hyunjin just reinforced that by telling you everything that crossed his mind at every moment. 

“- Why would you have to resist though ? I’m here to please you.”

You smiled once again, finally reaching him and pecking his lips, making him gasp and going stiff. 

“- I… Me and the boys made a bet.”

You frowned and tilted your head to the side, wondering which dumb shit it was this time, and if it was coming from your boyfriend or Jisung. 

“- And what is it ?

- No nut november.”

The laugh that escaped your lips was so loud that Hyunjin was torn between finding your smile beautiful and feeling vexed that you thought he was so bad at controlling himself. The pout on his face told you exactly that when you were finally able to look at him again. You put your hands on his cheeks, still smiling from ear to ear. 

“- And you agreed ?

- Yeah, why ?

- Baby… We both know that you won’t last a week in this. You’re so hard right now, and I haven’t done anything yet.”

Hyunjikn groaned, closing his eyes to stop himself from looking at your thighs, and your lips, and your whole body. Still, you were absolutely right. He knew he wouldn’t last long, but he thought he was stronger than that. While he was thinking, you started to run your fingers through his hair, kissing his cheeks but never his lips. 

“- So ? Am I still ��so in for it” or not ?”

He thought about it for a moment. Yes, he would never hear the end of it if he lost on the third day, and Jisung’s ego will get even bigger. But what was the point ? He didn’t want not to touch you for a month when you were literally his stress reliever. 

Without saying a word nor answering to you, he put his hands on your hips and his lips on yours, making you smile into your passionate kiss. He gave up so much more easily than you thought, but you weren’t going to complain. Hyunjin broke the kiss just to let his eyes wander all over your half-naked body. 

“- Like what you see ?”

He licked his lips, his hands sliding from your hips to your ass with a grin on his face. And even if you should be used to it, the fact that he was effortlessly so hot still made a shiver run down your spine.

“- So much… Makes me want to fuck you right now.”

Your own hands slipped under the hem of his shirt, your fingers running across his warm skin. And it was driving him crazy. It’s been three days since he had felt your touch for the last time, and he didn’t want to contain himself any more. It’s already been too long for him. 

Hyunjin pushed your hips into his, letting you feel his hard cock under his clothes, and kissed you once again. You could feel his heated skin through his still clothed body. And that was driving you insane. You could make fun of Hyunjin all you wanted, but you knew you were not any better. You couldn’t have resisted him more than he did. Your sex drive was as high as his, but you were grateful he gave in first - wouldn’t have been good for your image. 

Soon enough, you felt Hyunjin’s tongue licking your lips, and you opened your mouth with a little whimper, kissing him hungrily while your hands were gripping his shirt, forcing him to break the kiss to take it off. You stepped back and settled on top of the kitchen’s counter, and then pulled Hyunjin between your legs, your face inches away from his. 

“- Then fuck me Jinnie… I want you so bad…”

And that did it for him. Hyunjin let his head fall into your neck, sucking on it, licking it, biting it, and making you moan and tug his hair in your fingers. His own hand already found the clip of your bra and took it off. His lips traced a trail from your neck to your nipples that he quickly took in his mouth, getting you to whine his name and grip tightly at his roots. 

“- I missed feeling your skin…”

You smiled at how innocent this comment was even though Hyunjin was playing with your breast, and that his lips were making their way to your soaked panties. Your boyfriend was always eager to eat you out. Of course he loved it when you sucked him off, but he could spend hours between your legs without getting tired of your taste, or the noise you were making every time he did. And well, you couldn’t protest when he was this good with his mouth. 

Hyunjin kept eye contact with you while he slowly took off your panties. He threw them away somewhere in the room, kissing your inner thighs and making his way to your cunt. You sighed, relaxing completely under his touch, spreading your legs wide and tugging at his hair. When he finally put his mouth on your clit, you moaned and closed your eyes shut, the familiar rush of pleasure coursing through your veins. 

“- God… I wouldn’t have survived one month without your mouth on me…”

Hyunjin chuckled against you, sending vibrations that made you shiver. He stuck his tongue out, practically making out with your clit as you were clenching around nothing, whining and grinding against his face.

“- You really love tasting me baby, don’t you… ?”

You let out a shaky breath when your boyfriend pressed a finger against your entrance, teasing you a bit before pushing it between your folds and making you moan loudly. He didn’t stop licking you all this time, a mix of his saliva and your juices dripping down from your cunt to the counter beneath you. 

“- Yeah… Pussy drunk are you ? Of course you are… Look at you baby, face buried into me like you didn’t eat me out just three days ago…”

As much as you liked teasing him, it was getting difficult to even think of a single thing, and your words were quickly replaced by never ending and louder moans each time his now two fingers pressed against your sweet spot. You just stopped talking for a while, the heat in your body starting to get unbearable. 

“- Jinnie… P-Please… A little more… Just n-need… More…”

Hyunjin almost whined at you begging for him, for his tongue and fingers to give you what you were waiting for. Your hands were gripping his hair tight, and he could have come untouched just from the feeling and the view of your blissed out face. But he wanted to be in you so bad, he just pressed his tongue harder on your clit, overstimulating you a bit while you were coming just for him. 

He let you come back from your orgasm while he was wiping off your juices that dripped on his chin. Hyunjin smiled at you when you opened your eyes, looking so fucked out he just wanted to burry himself deep in you. 

“- Wouldn’t survive a month without eating you out…”

You heard his mumbled words and it made you laugh : you two were definitely not made for this type of challenge, but it didn’t even cross your mind as you kissed Hyunjin and your hands were sliding his pants down his thighs, his boxer following quickly. 

“- Want you in me…”

You were asking for it so sweetly, how could he say no to you ? (and yes, he had convinced himself that he caved in only because you were looking really gorgeous, not because he couldn’t hold back anymore.) Hyunjin guided his cock to your cunt, letting only the tip slide into you. 

“- How much do you want it love ? Tell me… ”

He liked to tease you just before entering you, just before he couldn’t tease anymore because he was always too far gone in your warm, tight, wet cunt. He was crazy over you, over this feeling. But at the same time, he couldn’t resist the urge to hear you beg for him, for his cock one more time. 

“- P-Please… 

- Please what ?

- Want your dick in me… Want you to be rough…

- That’s my good girl…"

You almost cried at the feeling of him entering you fully, making you feel on the verge of tears from the overwhelming feeling of his warm body against yours. Hyunjin’s lips were only inches from yours and you leaned in to kiss him hungrily while he was putting his hands on your waist and started to move back and forth. Both your moans were muffled by your messy kisses, feeling saliva drip from your mouth to your chin, but you couldn’t bring yourself to care when his dick in you felt like heaven. 

“- Shit… You’re so tight love… 

- Just for you… For your big cock…

- Yeah ? Big enough for your little wet cunt ?

- Fuck ! Yes… Don’t stop… C-Close…”

As your second orgasm was approaching, you started to lose your words, only capable of letting out some words here and there, and rutting your hips against Hyunjin. You nuzzled your face into his neck, muffling your moans against the sensitive skin, making your boyfriend shiver, loving to be so close to him, even though his pace was all but romantic. 

“- Gonna cum love ?

- Y-Yeah… Keep going p-please…”

Hyunjin sped up the rhythm of his hips, feeling you getting tighter with each thrusts, then getting sloppier and messier, telling you he was also almost there too. You also knew he liked to be praised when he was about to come. So you did just that.

“- You’re making me feel so good baby, so full… Love it when you lose control like this, just for me… You’re going to make me come with your big dick…”

Your boyfriend moaned against your lips, his forehead pressed against yours and his fingers digging into the skin of your hips so deep you hesitated between whining in pleasure or in pain. 

“- Ah- So good for me Hyunjin… Want you to fill me up… Come on, give it to me…”

“- Baby… Fuck !”

And that did it for Hyunjin. It only took him a couple more thrusts before he reached his high, cumming hard inside of you. And the feeling of his hot seed spilling in your cunt pushed you over the edge too, crying out in pleasure, joining the fucked out songs your boyfriend was letting out as he continued moving until it all started to feel too much. 

Both of you needed a moment to come back to reality, looking each other in the eyes and smiling softly before sharing a sweet kiss. You sighed, leaning totally against Hyunjin’s firm body while he stocked your back softly. You didn’t know what was to gain if he won the bet, but judging by your actual state, you didn’t care much, rather not at all. 

“- Go to the shower baby, I’ll warm up our meal and we could watch the drama we started last time. How’s that sound ?

- Perfect. I love you so much…”

You giggled before kissing him and muttering an “I love you too” against his lips. You pushed him away from you, just so you could get down off of the counter and put back your underwear, preventing his cum from spilling out of you and dripping down your thighs. Hyunjin stared at you, frowning and you understood something was bothering him.

“- What ?

- Sure you don’t need help to clean up ?

- Yes, I’m sure. I can do that myself, and I know you need your shower after work.”

Hyunjin took you in by your waist to kiss you before gathering his spare clothes on the floor and getting to the bathroom. Once there, he took his phone out of his pants, sending a message in the group chat.

Hyunjin shutted his phone off for the night, wanting to enjoy this moment with his sweet girlfriend that he could have whenever he wanted while the other would have to contain themselves. And for him, that was the real victory.

-> i don't allow any copies, reposts or translations of my work.

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[frostfangalphabitch]

The rest of the base has gone to sleep, but you don't sleep anymore. You don't join them in the mess hall anymore, either. You barely eat organic food at all these days, and when you do, it's mainly for pleasure. You can take the organics out of the pilot, but you can't take the love of sweets and pizza out of the organics, you guess. Despite that, you're so far removed from your humanity that it's gotten difficult to relate to most of them. It's not like anyone else is sharing your meals of titanium and copper.

The other pilots look at you with fear and disgust, knowing their inevitable fates if they're ever pitted against you. The mechanics see you as an oddity, a fascination, and heap praise and adoration upon you, but it's hollow in your eyes. It feels more like they're ogling a rare car rather than talking to a pilot. The corps see you as nothing more than a weapon to be pointed at their enemies, or whoever has less money than them that week.

The only person who still respects you as an autonomous individual is your handler. You adore her just as she loves you. Certainly, you're still a weapon - that's what the relationship started as after all - but you think she might be the only human in the base, including the mechanics, who could truly love a weapon of any kind. She's been so good to you through all of this, taking each stage of your radical transformation in stride as naturally as a lover watching her partner go through a more mundane transition. She's only gotten more attracted to you as you've grown into your new form and become more comfortable and confident with yourself. You'd burn the whole world down just to make her happy.

There's one other who respects you for who you are, though: your girl. Your beloved Wolfrun Mk.X, heart of Coral, veins of electricity, and arms of 5 ton power-guzzling metal-shredding AC-devouring WB-0010 Double Trouble carnage. Before all this started, you always thought of her like a weapon, just as the others see you now. Then she started changing you. The Coral in your augments connected with the Coral in her systems, and something changed in both of you. At first, it was just a whisper. Something brushing over your psyche, speaking just on the edge of hearing, incomprehensible but unmistakable.

Then your body started following suit. Your teeth, jaw, and digestive tract were the first things to change, presumably to allow you to consume and digest - you're not even sure if that's the correct term - the materials your girl needed to keep changing you. After your first meal, the tastiest 20 pounds of scrap you've ever eaten, your skin started changing too. The docs couldn't give you injections anymore. Their needles bent or broke when they tried to push them into your skin. You figured out why a few weeks later when what was left of your epidermis sloughed off and revealed armored plating underneath. They had to take an angle grinder to your arm in order to access your veins. You didn't feel any pain when they did. At the time, you thought that should have disturbed you a lot more than it did.

By that point, you'd been noticing Wolfrun's thoughts coming in a little clearer. In transit to your jobs, it was feelings of curiosity, probing, and wonder. In combat, it was a spark in your vision when you needed to dodge, a wordless warning about approaching enemies. In the base... still nothing but a whisper. That's when you started feeling lonely: when you couldn't feel her presence anymore.

As you became more and more monstrous, more and more like her, you began to visit her night after night. Maybe it was because you sensed an intelligence within her 65 ton body, or maybe it was simply because being near her drowned out the silence. You had no way of verifying this, but you felt like she relaxed as well when you were around. She was shut down in the hangar, of course, and there was no way any part of her could still be engaged, or so you thought. But as time went on, the whispers got louder, the words - feelings and thoughts, really - more comprehensible. And all the while, your body changed.

The 5'6" chubby trans gal who went into debt and subsequently under the knife to get a hand-me-down set of 4th gen augments all those years ago is long gone now. The thing you've become, whose claws clanged against the metal of the hangar's floor, had long since cast off that form. Where once was skin had become plated metal. Despite having no screws or rivets to speak of, it stayed firmly in place no matter how much the techs tried to pry it off. The augments which before had stuck partially out of the left side of your skull had seamlessly integrated themselves into the sleek plating that had cropped up on your head, looking far more natural than they ever had before. Your hair had fallen away, and the metal around your skull became angled and sleek, looking more bulwark than biological and with aerodynamic fins sprouting from it.

A sleek black plate had formed where your eyes once were. The day you woke up with that, you thought you had gone blind. You panicked, begging for help, afraid they wouldn't ever let you pilot her again. You had been moved into your new warehouse home at that point, and it took time for the maintenance techs to find you. Before they did, though, you felt someone - your girl, you realized - beckoning to you. She could help you. When the techs finally got there, you begged them to put you in her cockpit. It took them a while to figure out who you meant by "her", but your handler, who had come running the moment she heard the news, was on top of it. She barked at them to get you to Wolfrun, and with great difficulty, the three of them helped you get your then-8 foot form into her. You spent the next week inside her cockpit, refusing to get out except to eat and drink. She was there with you, and she let you see through her eyes. The world as she saw it was far more vivid than human eyes could ever see, infrared, ultraviolet, gamma, magnetic, smells, sounds, vibrations, on top of the visual spectrum you were used to. And when the delicate sensor plate where your eyes once were finally engaged at the end of that week, that's how you saw the world, too.

When you finally left her cockpit, you realized you could still hear her. From then on, she was with you always. That made you happy. It made her happy, too. You started letting her choose her own parts, and she was happy to. She still insisted you choose some too, though, since according to her, it was your body just as much as it was hers. True enough, whatever force was altering your body changed you to match her. When you tried out digitigrade legs, you stumbled getting out of bed the next morning after yours had reconfigured themselves to match. When you got her bulky, high capacity arms, your arms - fully synthetic by then - had bulked up considerably.

Even cosmetic changes started to affect you. You painted menacing, sharp teeth onto her head over the sensor plate with mechanical precision, and you found your own mouth elongating and becoming more of a muzzle as a result. You'd have thought being so malleable would have unsettled you, but you found you were more excited about the possibilities instead. It felt more like becoming who you were meant to be. Besides, it made wolfing down your metal meals easier. You figure intention, either yours or hers, or both, affected how you changed, but no one else had any satisfactory explanation for any of this. You'd stopped caring long ago in any case.

What you and Wolfrun ended up settling on for her, after earning a mountain of COAM for you and your handler with your unbeatable, utterly synchronized performance, was a mid-lightweight build focused on tearing apart the battlefield as quickly as possible with heavy machinery. What you became in response was anything but lightweight, at least compared to the humans around you. The finned bulwark and the black sensor on your head never really changed, but the rest of you seemed plenty mutable. Your arms grew long and powerful, your shoulders tipped with decorative spires. Your waist grew slender, tapering inorganically in nested panels to allow for plenty of articulation. Your torso got wider, too, though for whatever reason, the outline of breasts remained constant on your new chassis. You kept the digitigrade legs. Over time, hydraulic supports seemed to have formed on yours. The snout stayed, too. You were too proud of that paint job to ever take it off even with the changes to your own body. BECAUSE of the changes. You might be more machine than woman at this point, by you're still you, pride and all.

The techs estimate that only about 5% of your body is still organic. Probably most of your brain and maybe some other systems, plus a few symmetrical patches of skin. They suspect that you had either some kind of sympathetic Coral connection to your AC that rearranged your augments and allowed the changes to start, or that somehow repair nanites adapted to your form and began "fixing" you. In any case, they think the bulk of your changes are done with at this point. You're a little disappointed by that. Wolfrun likes the new you, though. She's happy for your connection and to be able to get even closer to you. Your handler appreciates your new form just as much. She doesn't even bat an eyelid when you tell her that you've been talking to Wolfrun. If anything, she seems a little sad that she can't talk to her directly. As for your relationship with your handler, you might be nearly twice her height, standing at a hulking 10 feet tall, but that doesn't stop her from loving you, or from jamming her fingers lovingly between your legs after missions.

But she's sleeping now. It's late, but you're still lonely. There's only one entity up at this time of night you'd care to talk to, so you climb the catwalks to meet her, claws clanging against the metal of the hangar. You smile your toothy, metal smile as she greets you, opening her cockpit so you can crawl inside and be one with her for a few more hours before your next mission.

[honeycreammilkshake]

"you are me."

i have a lot of thoughts on this whole scene, both shipping and non-shipping ones. the relationship between yuuji and sukuna is honestly the most fascinating and complex one that i have seen in anime, and one of the reasons for that is just how much these two actually understand each other, which i don't think a lot of people realize. yuuji and sukuna see right through each other, more than anyone else does, and i think that's why their bond is far more personal than it seems to be.

yuuji and sukuna are enemies. they hate each other for their opposing ideals and characteristics. yuuji is caring, empathetic, protective, kind, and willing to put his life on the line for both friends and strangers. sukuna is narcissistic, self-absorbed, indifferent to suffering, murderous, unfeeling, and unconcerned with any life other than his own. they seem to be polar opposites in every way, so why would yuuji say something as contradicting as "you are me" to sukuna?

i think it's widely overlooked just how complex yuuji's character is. he's overall a "sweet" person, but he isn't very stable (he has been described by quite a few characters as being a bit "crazy"), he has a high tolerance for disturbing or gory things (he took learning about curses and fighting them very easily), he doesn't question the danger he's been put into (he actually runs headfirst into it), and he can be really violent and vengeful as well.

this is all explored very well in his confrontation with mahito, where he also says "i am to you" to the curse.

why are these scenes so different? mahito and sukuna both killed people yuuji knew and cared about as well as strangers that yuuji would die to protect. shouldn't yuuji be approaching sukuna with the same hate, disgust, and vengeance that he shows to mahito? shouldn't he be lashing out and making sukuna pay for all that he did?

why is he showing his "crazy side" to mahito but not to sukuna?

to give some context to this scene with mahito, the curse wanted yuuji to accept their similarities. and, in the end, yuuji did.

yuuji is acknowledging that he serves as nothing more than a weapon to keep killing the curses of the world, perhaps with no other deeper purpose than that. just like curses only exist to bring misery and prey on humans, yuuji's sole existence at this point is just to act on the orders of sorcerers: to keep eradicating curses and eventually help kill sukuna by dying with him. he doesn't need more meaning or roles than that.

but sukuna doesn't see yuuji as just another cog. he doesn't respect yuuji, true, and he loathes to give the brat any kind of credit. but he knows yuuji is the only one who really, truly cares about sukuna's devastating impact. the death of innocent strangers doesn't affect others quite as much as it does yuuji (even nanami in the vs mahito arc noted how much yuuji cared about the suffering of others).

and many of the other sorcerers are also not as horrified or repulsed by sukuna's actions as yuuji is. in fact, sorcerers and curses alike look up to sukuna. gojo actually seems to respect the king of curse's lifestyle. it feels like yuuji is really the only one to truly despise sukuna for his actions and ideals.

and sukuna knows this. sukuna knows how much the suffering of others gets to yuuji. which is why he gives yuuji such special treatment: he saves a unique brand of torment just for yuuji that he doesn't really give to anyone else.

sukuna intentionally returned control to yuuji's body just for yuuji to witness the massive damage and death that sukuna's domain expansion caused. it killed thousands of people, innocent strangers included.

it led to yuuji breaking down, even wishing for his own death. but yuuji is strong and, deep down, sukuna knows this. yuuji doesn't give up and instead uses his rage to fuel his fight with mahito, where he snaps and shows us his vengeful side. he doesn't need any other reason than mahito being a curse to want to kill him, over and over. that is yuuji's purpose. which seems like an uninteresting and boring one to someone like sukuna.

but for all that sukuna keeps calling yuuji uninteresting and boring, he shows a lot of investment in yuuji's growth and in their fights.

he's even invested enough to show disappointment when yuuji lost to choso. (if he thought yuuji was so weak, why did he seem so bothered by yuuji's loss here?)

and then sukuna looked surprised and curious when choso got hit with some kind of false memory empathetic attack that included yuuji in it. he's having a lot of strong reactions to someone he claims isn't interesting enough for him.

sukuna also loves to aggravate yuuji, somehow knowing how to provoke a strong reaction from him.

there's a lot of interesting things about this scene, one of them being that yuuji refers to sukuna as a "curse" which is technically untrue. sukuna is a sorcerer who used a set of cursed objects to send his soul into the future, but he isn't a curse himself.

but to yuuji, sukuna is nothing more than a curse because he doesn't show any sort of positive traits. sukuna's mindset reflects that of a curse since he only exists to please himself and loves to cultivate the kind of negative emotions curses are born of (fear, hate, jealousy, selfishness, etc).

there's also a clever reference to sukuna being a cannibal through yuuji saying "let's see if you can chew up me and my suffering." yet what we've seen throughout this story is yuuji essentially cannibalizing sukuna by eating his cursed fingers, which he calls the taste really gross. so i wonder... what would yuuji taste like to sukuna?

every human has a unique taste but all of them are fleeting to sukuna. there's no actual meaning or savoring to it. it's just a way for him to pass the time until death.

both yuuji and sukuna are cannibalizing as a form of destruction. but while yuuji is eating the cursed fingers so that he can hold all of sukuna inside of him for them to be exorcised together, sukuna was eating humans simply because he wanted to. he ate whatever he wanted because he was at the top. he is an apex predator with no real rivals or threats. it was for a completely self-absorbed and depraved indulgence while yuuji is giving up his life on this plan to save others.

yuuji and his suffering is the complete antithesis to how sukuna's eating only serves himself. which is very interesting to see when yuuji challenges sukuna to "chew him up." yuuji is proving to be more predator than prey and is far more of a challenge than sukuna wants to admit.

but maybe something about yuuji's resilience does please sukuna? maybe he actually finds worth in yuuji never giving up?

though he still underestimates and discredits yuuji's strength, he actually looks impressed with yuuji and seems even a bit eager to take him on again.

for someone who claims to find yuuji not worth his time, sukuna is showing yuuji far too much special treatment that he doesn't give to anyone else. he even calls yuuji a specific name (kozou) that he doesn't use with anyone else. others are just various offensive terms, but only yuuji seems to have a name just for himself.

sukuna is a really contradicting and complex character, and his relationship with yuuji really shows that.

i've seen a lot of anti-sukuna sentiment after his death, and i understand why a lot of fans hate him and celebrated when he died. however, i think a lot of fans have this somewhat inaccurate view of him being nothing more than a static villain with zero complexities and no chance of any kind of character development.

some of sukuna's most underrated and interesting traits are that he is actually pretty smart (he has an overall plan and is making all the right moves to get there), he's cultured (a poetry snob who hired a chef just to cook him humans instead of eating them raw, and perhaps he even knows more about flowers than he lets on), he shows respect to those he deems worthy and even seeks to learn from them, and he might not actually be the most "evil" person in jjk (which I consider to be kenjaku, but that warrants another post).

overall, sukuna is and has always been more than what he first seems, but a lot of fans don't want to see this or they overlook it.

after sukuna reveals he was an unwanted curse of a child, there was pushback against fans who interpreted this line as sukuna having a tragic backstory that explained his current self.

i understand why these fans don't want sukuna to be a sympathetic villain and i've read posts on how gege writes his villains to be intentionally unsympathetic.

from here (https://x.com/soukatsu_/status/1520796590612566022)

sukuna is the perfect example of a villain that is unsympathetic. he is horrifyingly strong, lives as he pleases, murders people for fun, is a literal cannibal, acts and appears monstrous, and makes our protagonist yuuji suffer over and over again. he represents exactly all the ideals and traits yuuji despises and the two of them are fighting each other because of this.

however, one thing i want to point out is just because sukuna is completely unsympathetic now doesn't mean he couldn't have had an actually tragic past that made him into this.

i believe that sukuna was seen as a curse from his birth on. much like how jogo wanted curses to be the true humans (sukuna calls this jogo essentially wanting to become human) sukuna became purely curse-like to escape being human. whether or not you empathize with him is irrelevant, because after he became the king of curses, sukuna has committed countless irredeemable horrors that even i, as a sukuna fan, don't ever want him to be forgiven or easily justified for doing.

having a tragic past doesn't justify his crimes, it only provides a catalyst for them. it explains why he, who was born human, became more of a curse than some curses are. you don't need to have sympathy for him after that. just like he has no sympathy for those he considers weak and inferior, he has no more reason to be a tragic character.

a lot of people acted like sukuna potentially having a tragic past that turned him into the monster he is now makes him "uncool" or "uncharacteristic" of himself but, to me, it makes his character all the more detailed without changing the fact that he is still purely "evil" and irredeemable.

but does this all make him incapable of character development?

i personally believe that yuuji has been affecting sukuna throughout the whole series, especially in these last few chapters.

i recently came across a post on reddit on why sukuna could never be more than a static villain character. one of the arguments was that gege never intended for sukuna to have any kind of redemption arc.

(https://www.reddit.com/r/Jujutsufolk/comments/16vphxl/sukuna_is_different_from_other_strongest/?rdt=36326)

(now, i couldn't find the original source where this interview came from, and it's not worded very well so i'm thinking it's been quickly translated. and there's always missed meanings and alterations to the original message when translations have been made, especially with japanese. i'm also not sure if the "him" being referred to is mahito or sukuna, but i'm assuming it can apply to both of them.)

this post was made about a year ago, so i assume this interview with gege is also a bit dated now. i think gege is intentionally vague in their interviews because they don't want to reveal too much, but my own interpretation of this post is that gege never intended for sukuna to get any sort of redemption because he is incapable of being redeemed through any kind of love.

and i agree with that. i don't want sukuna to get redemption. what he has done is unforgivable and i don't want him to get off easy for it. but him showing character development is not the same as him getting redemption. and him being affected by love isn't the same as him fully accepting it either.

in these last few chapters, yuuji has offered mercy to sukuna multiple times, despite how even he himself considered it to be a lost cause.

as i wrote earlier, yuuji is the only character who really understands how terrible and curse-like sukuna is. he hates sukuna on this fact alone. yuuji told mahito that his purpose is to kill curses, and sukuna - in the end - is nothing more than just another curse.

so why did yuuji suddenly change all that up and show empathy and genuine concern for sukuna in these last few chapters? why was he trying so hard to convince sukuna that they can co-exist?

one of my sukuita-cult friends (flight-of-death) pointed out that during his fight with yuuji, sukuna explicitly recalled his conversation with kashimo about not needing another person to fulfill him.

while sukuna saying he didn't anyone else to fulfill him was relevant during his discussion with kashimo, it's very interesting that he was remembering his own exact words about it while facing down yuuji, who was making sukuna doubt some of his previous statements.

my friend has convinced me that sukuna and yuuji have found a "reluctant fulfillment" in each other. and i think this is proving to be very much possible.

yuuji was alone most of his life. without wasuke there for him, he could have turned into a ruthless monster like sukuna. yuuji has so much physical and emotional strength, but it was the catalyst of wasuke's death that motivated yuuji to use that strength for good. he might have chosen to be selfish and only concerned with his own wants and needs like sukuna did, but wasuke provided the role yuuji needed to be the selfless person he is now.

i think that yuuji, in all his loneliness, found a kind of closeness to sukuna, even if it was unwanted. and sukuna has definitely been affected by yuuji, too.

as sukuna is dying, megumi finally regains control. he notices how sukuna seems to be scared of death.

sukuna genuinely does look concerned about dying. his mouths are in the shape of a grin but are turned upside down and look more like actual dread. for someone who claimed that eating people was only a way to pass the time until death, sukuna now looks unwilling to die.

i think that this shows that sukuna gained some sort of respect for life, even if it was only in his will to keep living. he does seem to want to keep existing, and it's interesting that it's what yuuji offered him.

yuuji was created by kenjaku to be sukuna's vessel. the sorcerers wanted to use yuuji as a vessel to hunt down all the cursed fingers so that yuuji and sukuna would die together. no matter how you see it, sukuna and yuuji were bound to end up either living or dying together. that is their fate. but now that he has more power in making his own choices, yuuji seems to genuinely want to share the kinder fate with sukuna: to live together. and if you think about it, them coexisting makes a lot of sense.

sukuna has been described as a natural disaster, so how can yuuji have any kind of empathy for something as devastating and unfeeling as an earthquake or a tsunami? in truth, the human race has been coexisting with natural disasters since the beginning - especially japan, which has weathered many terrible calamities. yuuji is a lot like the embodiment of the resilience and strength needed to survive such disasters, so i think he's more than capable of handling a life with sukuna, especially if sukuna is far more subdued.

and sukuna being allowed to live isn't redemption at all. though it would be a form of character development for him, it would still be one of the most selfish things he could do, as it would mean condemning yuuji to an indefinite amount of time with sukuna.

but yuuji seems to want that. he is willingly offering up the rest of his life to sukuna, for them to live together.

personally, i don't consider this to be a form of redemption in any way. he is proving sukuna's mindset wrong, not forgiving him. just accepting his nature and still offering a way to coexist.

i think that by offering this to sukuna, yuuji would essentially become that person that sukuna claims he doesn't need to feel fulfillment. but it's clear to me sukuna wasn't satisfied with his life in the past, since he couldn't offer an explanation to kashimo about why he chose to cross the ages as cursed objects. he is obviously lying or beginning to doubt his own words.

and i think that's why he chose death.

accepting yuuji's mercy, finding that fulfillment sukuna denies needing, would be very un-curselike of him and he can't have that. he would rather be seen as an inhuman monster than something capable of accepting love.

so in the end, sukuna is doing exactly what gege said he would: rejecting love and rejecting anything that makes him less of a curse.

but yuuji isn't easily pushed away. he kept coming back for wasuke and i think that if he really does care that much about sukuna, that if he's wiling to live with him even if no one else accepts it, he won't let sukuna go without more of a fight either.

they can still find fulfilment in each other. they are capable of coexisting. and if sukuna decides to make that change, it doesn't necessarily mean he's completely broken character. and if they don't get to survive together in this lifetime, there's still a good chance for change if they're reincarnated.

[call-sign-shark]

Heaven in Your Eyes || Tommy Shelby x You

Summary: A haunting scent, a ghost from the past, and a confession too raw to take back. Masks always end up dropping in Arrow House. || to listen on repeat during your reading.

Words: 5.4k

TW: self-harm and extreme angst, grief, mental illness, manipulation, Hev is not your typical nice reader she's really twisted and it was the case from the beginning! I wasn't joking when I said that this story was going to take a brutal, very dark turn so please, proceed carefully. Also, if you wanna hate, be a warrior and switch off anon.

Notes:

✞ Heaven in Your Eyes is mostly an Arthur Shelby story but considering what happens to him in this part of S4, this chapter will revolve around the MC, and then Tommy.

✞ This is chapter 18 of the Arthur Shelby x You series Heaven in Your Eyes. Each chapter can be read as a stand-alone.

PREVIOUS || Masterlist || NEXT PART

The smooth metal of the razor blade caught the light perfectly when you turned it slowly between your thumb and index finger, tilting it just enough to watch the fascinating glint dance across the edge with a far off look etched on your angel face. It was fascinating. You meant the way this delicate thing, small enough to disappear in your palm, was so sharp that all you'd have to do to get hurt was to lightly close your hand around it.

You were sitting on the edge of the cold porcelain bathtub, your left ankle resting on your right knee. Your silk nightgown had been pushed up over your thighs, their pale skin looking like freshly fallen snow under the feeble light. In your hand, the razor blade trembled slightly as you brought it to your thigh and lightly dragged the edge along your flesh. Not enough to break, but surely enough to feel the whisper of its pressure grazing you. 

The familiar thrill of anticipation, the one that simmered just before the pain and the relief, was as vivid as you remembered.

A sarcastic snort echoed in the bathroom when you gave a second thought at that old habit you thought you had buried long ago. What do they say, here in England? Ah. Old habits die hard. 

Instinctively, your crystal eyes fell upon the coarse scars that were carved deep inside both of your thighs. The sight of the white, messy, and swollen lines made your stomach churn slightly. It wasn’t really about the way they looked but it was rather the meaning of them that disturbed you whenever you deigned to look. Each slash was a testimony of when you'd lost control and, truly, they were far too many to count. Layer upon layer of healing tissue, you had marked the times you broke. The times you didn't know how else to breathe. And before you could realize it, it gradually stopped being shocking and, somehow, became a routine. Until butchering yourself felt like the most natural thing to do in case of overload.

It started after the slaughter of your whole family. Stopped when he found you. Started again when you left him.

It wasn’t fair, you conceded. You had sworn to Arthur you'd never go back to this. Not after telling him about the nights spent shaking on the floor. Not after Lucy found you curled up in your own blood and rage several times. But had he wished to make sure you’d respect your oath and feel good enough not to dive back into it, he would have been here. In the meantime, you were the one alone in this bleak bathroom, consumed by a dizzying void that was starting to grow insufferable. Alone while the whole fucking world spun too fast around you,  with a blade back in your hand.

Fuck the lot of them. You thought, exhausted.

Tommy for poisoning your blood. Arthur for being so selfish and stupid. Polly for always tricking you into protecting this cursed family. Ada for always watching you with hidden disgust since the day you had killed a man to save Charlie. Michael just for being born and John for not being able to stay fucking alive.

The blade kissed your skin like an old lover in one clean and controlled cut. Instantly, the pain, or rather the slightly uncomfortable itch, bloomed when your flesh broke apart. For a split second, you felt it — the awful, guilty relief. The kind that said "you’re still here, Hev. You still feel something".

Your bambi lashes fluttered with pleasure as liquid ruby gushed from the cut. 

Alright, just a second one. Or a third. Maybe a fourth. Fifth, but you swore it was the last one.

You stopped only when the canva of your flesh was entirely painted in red, finally dropping the razor onto the tiles with a sharp clatter. The sound of it, chiming in the whole bathroom, brought you back to your senses.

“Merde.” You cussed, when you saw how bad you had hurt yourself,  heart banging in your chest so brutally you thought you’d soon throw it up. Your chest rose and fell rapidly at the sight of blood already blooming in warm, slick lines across your thigh. Too bright, too fast. You pressed your palm against it on instinct, hissing through your teeth. Fortunately, neither the searing pain nor the dizziness got the better of your reflexes. Pushing away the looming madness to the back of your head, you grabbed the white towel nearby and wrapped it around your bleeding thigh.

Something was wrong.

Well, something has been wrong for a while and you could trace it back to John’s death, if one wanted to be precise. Since that cursed day you found him lying in a crimson puddle of his own blood, riddled with bullets, your happiness had shattered like glass around you. Or, rather, the illusion of it. You had to face it: your wedding to Arthur Shelby only worked when things were fine, then turned into shit at the first hard blow. John died and, all of sudden, Arthur’s worst flaws exploded and they proved to be more overwhelming than what you had expected.

Amos… He always had a knack for knowing what to do when it all came crashing down. He’d wrapped his arms around you and soothe your deepest fears as you nuzzled your nose in the crook of his neck, lulled by his sweet perfume, his warmth and velvet voice. Then he’d just take care of the problem with his teeth and claws.

You shook your head, chasing him away from your mind by forcing yourself to focus on your wounds. Amos wasn’t here either anyway. 

Once the bleeding had dwindled, you stood groggily and dragged your slim being out of the bathroom, careful not to look in the mirror as you passed by it out of fear of what would stared back. Maybe a ghost of you, or ink-black eyes, who knows. No matter what it could be, you were pretty sure you wouldn’t like it.

The need to flee from this ridiculous mansion had intensified lately. Arrow House’s walls had started to feel too suffocating for you to bear anymore. Sure, staying inside would drastically reduce your chance of getting shot by a bunch of fedora-wearing Italians, but the probability that you ended up dead and cold after bleeding yourself dry increased day by day. That was why you paid no heed to Tommy’s rules and you descended the stairs in silence. 

Once you reached the backdoor, you pulled on a long black coat, laced up your boots, and slipped out into the vast garden, vanishing into the night, the thick fog swallowing you whole.

Your legs automatically carried you to the mighty stables at the end of Arrow House’s garden. As much as you hated the mansion, the exteriors of it never failed to amaze you with its beauty and gargantuan size. Well, it wasn’t as impressive as the Alpine landscapes you were used to but it still offered many places in which one could rob a fleeting moment of peace amidst some Shelby chaos.

After wandering for a while, you had decided to keep a magnificent white mare, that was grazing near the stables, company. She probably belonged to Tommy, taking into account that Charlies’ one was inside its stall. You ran your little hand along the mare’s mane and she shifted under your palm, asking for more rubs. Her reaction stirred a tired smirk that tugged on your lips. To be fair, she looked as ghostly as you with her shining white coat. 

Still stained with dry blood, your fingers moved in slow, tender strokes along the strong line of the beast’s neck to probe her reaction further. She seemed to trust you, which wasn’t particularly surprising. You always had a gift with animals for lack of being good with humans. Sometimes you wondered if you really were your mother’s daughter — she was known to be patient, empathic and always smiling. Far away from the so-called Russian coldness.The more you thought about it, the more you came to the conclusion that she must have swallowed down all the darkness and somehow passed it on to you, drop by drop, like poison in a silver spoon.

A little sigh escaped your juicy lips, slightly chapped by the cold. The creaking wood of the stable mixed with the warm scent of hay managed to soothe your restless mind a little. A well-deserved moment of quietness you knew wouldn’t last long but that was more than welcome nonetheless. If only you could have slept there, curled up in a ball against the mare’s flank instead of rolling and tossing in your large bed in Arrow House you’d have done it in a heartbeat.

You closed your eyes for a moment, letting the comforting melody of the wind and the leaves’ rustle play as you scratched the mare behind her ear. Her warmth beneath your palm and the sensation of her short-haired coat against your fingers kept you anchored as the winter air settled around your bones and numbed your pain.

 "So, are you happy?"

Your eyes flashed wide open, as though you had been torn from a far-too-realistic dream. The air in the stable suddenly felt thinner, harder to breathe. 

It couldn’t… 

The hand that was resting on the horse tensed as each of your nerves burst back to life with a deadly combination of recognition, dread and longing.

"You're not real." You managed to reply, though your haunting voice was barely above a whisper.

"You didn't answer," the voice said softly, "Are you happy, Hev?"

You felt the unmistakable presence closing in behind you, as if he were rising from both the fog and the darkest corners of your mind. One of the mare’s ears twitched, as if she had heard him too.

“You’re not fucking here.” You tried to be firm but you were already faltering. In fact, your heart pounded in your ribcage as a familiar scent covered the musky hay. It was faint at first, but the more you tried to ignore it, the more persistent it became. A mix of myrrh and tonka, sweet and faintly smoky, that clung to the air around you. 

“You’re not—” The strength you needed to finish your sentence faded away, leaving the remaining words to die in your dry throat. As for that damn perfume, invasive and vivid,  it wrapped around your spine as though you had never managed to scrub it from your skin despite these last three years and another man in your bed.

“You can keep pretending I’m gone for good if that makes you feel better, but we both know the truth.” His sultry voice vibrated through your body, shaking you to the marrow.

"You’re dead to me.” You spat, each word trembling with the effort it took to say them.

"And yet," He murmured and seemed to grow closer "I never left you."

Your stomach lurched like you’d just swallowed a whole broken glass, whose shards were slashing you from the inside. Heat flushed your face, but your limbs went cold, your knees locking to keep from buckling. Surely, it couldn’t be happening right?

So why was your pulse thundering in your ears, panic rising fast, raw and feral? Why couldn’t you find the courage to turn around and make sure he was a fragment of your imagination? Maybe because, deep down, you knew. You knew that some sick parts of you wanted to believe that he was really there.

“You never forgot me.” He added. 

A flock of birds burst out of the closest tree, swarming then flying away. 

“I tried to!” You suddenly cracked. It was too much: silent tears of diamond rolled down your cold kissed cheek, “I tried my fucking best!” As the confession slipped from your sinful lips, a maelstrom of long buried emotions crashed against you like a rogue wave. You started to tremble, the ball of sadness growing in your throat. You pressed your forehead against the mare’s warm neck, eyes screwed shut as if to hold back a flood. The creature moved gently beneath you and let out a low, sorrowful neigh for your grief had seemed to bleed into her.

"You did try." He replied. His tone was patient, but laced with the quiet, unbearable pain of a wound that refused to heal, ”you buried me alive and tried to build something new on top of our ruins… And now look at you, standing on your empire of lies. Are you sick of pretending?”

Every fiber of you coiled at the accusation, the bitter taste of guilt twisting your stomach.

“I thought…” You gritted your teeth, swallowing back your sorrow with great difficulty even though your tears continued to flow endlessly, “I thought a clean start would do the trick. I thought putting as many miles as I could between us would be enough. Hell, I even married someone else but you’re still fucking here. Always. Like an infection too deep to severe.”

A faint breeze blew in your long white mane, its moonlight strands fluttering in the wind. 

He was right. You had tried to outrun it and here was the sad, pathetic, result.

He spoke again after a brief silence. 

"Tell me, did you marry out of love?”  He asked, with words as sharp as a well-honed blade slid between your ribs, seeking to split you open and see the ugly truth that hid inside.  The voice was calm but it didn’t keep you from feeling the corrosive burn of it, “Or was it because you couldn’t stand being alone with the version of yourself your evil, twisted, disgusting monster of a former fiancé left behind?”  He didn’t need to say me for both of you to know who he meant.

More tears rolled down your seraphic face, their salty drops dying in your neck and dampening the mare’s coat. She gently poked you with her head, letting out a noisy sigh from her nostrils. 

“I was young. I was scared. And… what you did that night—” your voice cracked, the confession feeling like razor blades in your throat. You wished to keep blaming him for everything because it made things easier, but the thought of him on the church’s floor, screaming in agony as he brought his hands to his maimed and bloody face flashed in your mind. Sure, he had tried to hurt you but the guilt was here nonetheless, acrid and nauseating.

“I know,” he said, quieter than before but with the sharp edge of something that sounded dangerously close to regret. “I relive it every time I close my eyes.” 

Silence stretched for what seemed to be an eternity.

“Do you really think so low of me?”

Your shut your eyes tighter, “It was the only way I could survive losing you.  I had to tear you apart in my head, piece by piece, ‘cause I knew I’d never get over you.“ Your breath hitched, your tight chest heaving as something inside you snapped. You gritted your teeth this time, finally giving up on your fight against your need to burst into real tears. What was the point, anyway?  

“But I ruin everything, don’t I?” you spat, reopening your eyes wild and wet, a surprising boiling fury igniting through the cracks. Different from your usual cold anger. Your fingers curled into a fist against the mare's side and, as you did, your wedding ring pressed into your flesh and seemed to cut deeper than the razor blade you had held one hour ago.  “Whether I mean to or not. Everyone I touch fucking dies or ends up shattered. That’s what I do, eh. I destroy. I rot things. And now look at me—” you couldn’t help but laugh, the sound of it indescribably filled with sarcasm, “still clinging to a ghost I never let go of.”

You wiped your cheeks with the back of your hand, trying to breathe through the tightness in your chest as three years worth of secrets finally came into light.

“You’re flickering, Light of my Life, like a flame in the wind, too tired to fight the night of Small Heath.” He murmured, but the resentment in his voice was gone now and replaced by tenderness. And somehow, his presence - this impossible fragment of him conjured by memory or madness, or both - didn’t scare you anymore. It felt like a blanket wrapped around you.

"Please Amos, stop haunting me..." Your voice cracked, thin and fragile, like a thread pulled too tight.

“Stop haunting me too, then.” 

“Don’t start,” You warned, shaking your head weakly in a denial that lacked conviction.

The mare stirred beneath you again as she sensed the storm behind your ribs.

 “Arthur is a good man, I don’t want to hurt him,” you murmured.

“He might be,” He said. “But you didn’t choose him. You ran to him.”

You closed your eyes again, pressing your forehead against the mare’s side a little more as if she could shield you from the tempest in your heart.

“Say it,” he whispered with the howling wind. “Say you never looked back. Say you don’t dream of me when it’s too quiet to lie to yourself.”

Your lips parted to deny, but no sound came. All that fell from your mouth was a shaky breath. You tried to resist, to shove it down where all the other truths rotted. But you couldn’t. Not anymore. 

“…I do,” you whispered, and the words felt like they tore straight through your chest.

“So come back to me, please.”

The sudden sensation of a tangible, warm hand touching your back tore you from the depths of your mind.

Jolting, you spun around in one quick movement, ready to unsheathe the knife you always hid in your garter. Against all expectation, it wasn’t Amos that stood behind you but Tommy, half-shadowed by the fog that curled into his feet. The expression that was etched on his perfect freckled face was unreadable, eternally cool, save for the worries that burnt bright in his piercing turquoise eyes.

“Are you alright?” He inquired with his hoarse voice, the thick brummie accent rolling on his tongue.

You blinked at him, looking confused as though you had just woken up from a feverish dream. His hypnotic gaze dropped to your thigh the moment a gust of wind blew your long dark coat out of the way.

“You’re bleeding.” He sounded concerned.

You looked down and noticed thin trails of crimson running down the inside of your thigh, soaking into the white fabric of your nightgown. The mare lowered her huge head to sniff it, visibly as worried as the Peaky Blinder Devil.

“It’s nothing.”  You retorted quickly as you tugged your coat around you, the memories of the two of you almost fucking in the living room crawling back to your skull.

It didn’t seem to convince him. Of course, you should have known that it wouldn’t be enough to push Tommy Shelby away. At least, he had the unexpected courtesy of not bringing up the fact you had been crying - quite hard to hide with your puffy red eyes and wet cheeks.

“It’s not nothing,” He stepped closer, slowly and carefully, as if you were a wounded animal too proud to limp. You took one step back as he did.

“Tell me what’s going on. You were talking to someone.” He growled, briefly surveying his surroundings to make sure no one was hiding beneath the stables but, sincerely, he doubted it.

“Oh.” You sniffed and, for the first time in years when facing Tommy, your gaze fled from him and locked onto the far away distance, just above his shoulder, “It was just me talking to ghosts,” Your lips stretched in a humorless smile that definitely didn’t echo in your empty eyes, “Quite fitting for the diabolical witch I am, right, Thomas? You’ve come right in time for the sacrifice.” 

Tommy didn’t reply with any dry remarks to insult you, nor did he take advantage of the situation to hurt you more as he used to do. In fact, he only watched you in silence, his eyes narrowing at the sight of you trying to brush off the topic. The tension in his square jaw betrayed his genuine concern, and though he didn’t offer comfort, he might be the fittest person to understand how you felt. How couldn’t he when he lived in the same kind of haunted house, plagued by the memory of Grace that seemed to inhabit the very walls of the mansion? The blue-eyed demon let out a long sigh through his nostrils before shifting his focus from you.

He approached again, stopping only once he stood next to your little frame. Then, he began to stroke the mare for the beast had grown anxious due to your inner turmoil. Horses were quite empathic after all. He had barely touch the animal when calm settled in her again.

“What was his name?” Tommy finally asked, out of the blue.

“I’m sorry?”

“Your fiancé. What was his name?” He continued without looking at you, remembering what you had said just before your hands wrapped around his neck.

I know the man you are because my former fiancé was cut from the same cloth. An egocentric criminal with bulging ambition, a far too high sense of self esteem and a greed beyond words. A man who dragged his loved ones down with him without even realizing it.

“No.” You replied, point blank. 

“No?”

“Don’t even fucking try.”  You gritted your teeth.Admittedly, you knew that Thomas Shelby had already done research about you so, naturally, he probably tried to find out more about the man who used to share your life. It seemed like it had been in vain — not surprising when considering how well Amos handled the information that circulated about him.

His shoulders slouched down slightly as he side-eyed you, observing the tight line your mouth was forming. There was no way you’d talk about him to anyone. Especially Tommy. Not when the memory of him still clawed at your chest like a second heartbeat and that just pronouncing his name felt like a stabbing wound. So you did what you did the best: swallowing it down and letting it decay where no one could reach it. 

Tommy focused on the mare again, finding a bit of peace in the beast’s aesthetic and its similarities to yours. All white and ghostly. 

“Do you know how to ride?”

You shrugged, “Yes, but it’s been a while.”

Tommy simply replied with a little hum before retreating into silence again. Here you both stood, petting the beautiful mare while the fog embraced you, like the Limbo’s mist calling two of its lost souls home. It was only after a while that he spoke again.

“You know… She haunts me the same.” He finally confessed, “Grace.” 

Your aquamarine eyes flicked to him, utterly surprised to hear the name leaving his mouth. One sole look at him was enough to notice how his jaw had tightened again. For a moment Tommy Shelby didn’t look like himself, but worn and far away as though not standing in the stable, but at the edge of a tunnel back in France.

“She didn’t frostburn like you do,” he continued, his gaze far off, “She was quieter. A calm strength that could move mountains. She had this way of looking at you… Like she already knew your worst, and loved you anyway. No flames. No storms. No shovels. Just peace.”

Somewhere behind him stood Arrow House bathed in darkness, the whole mansion a phantom of the bright, warm and full of life home it used to be when Grace walked around with baby Charlie in her arms.

Tommy blinked, trying to retrieve his composure, before reaching for a cigarette. As usual, he rolled the filter on his lower lips nervously and lit it with his zippo. You had always found this little quirk of him kind of charming. The silver cigarette case was presented to you, open and inviting.

You thanked him with a little nod and took one, letting the Peaky demon lighting the tip for you. 

It was only after a few drags that your lips parted, “There are people you meet and you know. Not because they’re good for you. Not because they make sense. But because something in your soul remembers.” A bitter smile ghosted over your fleshy lips.

His eyes flicked to you briefly.

“That’s what Arthur is for you?” He asked, but the way the corner of his lips curled showed that he already knew the answer.

“Arthur’s a good man.” You repeated.

Tommy arched one of his brows.

“That wasn’t an answer.”

“No, it wasn’t.” You admitted, with your far-too-pale eyes fixed on the horizon as if Amos were standing there in the mist, just out of reach.

“Why did you marry him then?” His voice held no resentment for once, just plain curiosity.

“Why do you fuck with all the girls you meet?” 

The question took him aback, you saw it in the way he had coughed right after his magnificent blue eyes widened a bit. To be fair, watching him almost choke on his cigarette smoke could have been comical in different circumstances.

“The answer to our questions is certainly the same, Thomas. Just to stop bleeding.”

Tommy sighed, watching the cigarette consuming itself between his calloused fingers as he took the bullet. He brought it to his mouth and said nothing, unable to do so. All he did was stand there, the smoke of the cigarette that was hanging from his perfect lips framing his face as though he had just walked out of hell. Then he nodded, accepting the bitter truth: your pain was the reflection of his.

The mare gently nudged your shoulder, and, instinctively, you reached up and stroked her face.

“Don’t get me wrong, I love your brother sincerely but..” You couldn’t finish the sentence for something monstrous crept slowly through your veins. Not a sudden jolt nor another storm of emotions like the one you had gone through before Tommy interrupted, but rather the quiet, creeping certainty that there was something definitely wrong inside of you. A rotten, twisted, beyond redemption thing. You still remembered the night you met Arthur vividly. You had been singing in the silence of a candlelit church, letting your haunting voice rise like a prayer from the ruins of your soul. The enchanting lilt sounded as though it belonged to someone good. Someone holy. When Arthur Shelby stumbled in, bleeding, drunk and broken, you hadn’t asked any question nor shown fear, as would have the rest of Small Heath done when facing the Peaky Blinders’ mad dog. You, on the contrary, had simply gone to him and wipe the blood from his face with a torn piece of your own dress rinsed in holy water. Then you had cradled him like he was fragile creature, not a ticking time bomb.

He had looked at you, dazed and teary.

Yer an Angel. I swear you are eh.

Oh God, how wrong he was.

You weren’t an angel and you had never been. You were the abomination that had sung to mask the stench of blood that clung to your skin. The abomination that had murdered more than she could remember, stitched people together only to tear them apart when they got too close to what you kept buried beneath the surface ‘cause you couldn't afford them to know how fucking shallow, manipulative and twisted you could be.

Arthur had been so blinded by the light that he hadn’t noticed the shadows. A few crocodile tears and flutters of long lashes had done the trick to convince him further of your holiness. Of course, you had meant no harm to him. Your affection was sincere, it wasn’t just the same as you thought it would be. 

He thought of you as a savior, but the truth was you couldn’t tell if you were truly able to save someone, or if you just dragged people down with you.

As for Tommy… He had seen through it from the very beginning. One of the first things Thomas Shelby had told you before strangling you the day of your first encounter was that he wouldn’t tolerate a witch and a murderer around his family, nor would he let you take advantage of Arthur and ruin him. At that time, you had bitten back. You had been sharp,and defiant as you retorted that it wasn’t your intention - and you weren’t lying. But now, with all the blood under your nails and the rot inside of you coming to light as well as your marriage turning to shit, your realized the ugly truth: little King Shelby was right from the start.

“Tommy?” You called, surprisingly softly.

“Hm?” He looked at you, curious. The way you sporadically called him by his nickname never failed to stir something in him.

“I know now.”  You murmured as a bitter, creepy but utterly tragic smile stretched the corner of your desirable lips “I see why we’ve always hated each other so much. What binds us. What pulled us together like two magnets.”

He straightened, throwing his cigarette away in the fog. It shot through the air in soft orange light. His strong jaw was still tense, all the muscles ticking beneath his skin and suddenly, his hand reached for your face without any hesitation. His fingers, rough and cold, grabbed your chin between his thumb and index finger before tilting your face toward his. The scent of whiskey, cigarettes and expensive perfume rose all around you.

You leaned into his touch softly, tenderly, and looked at him — really looked at him. In his turquoise eyes you saw everything: the cold logic. The ruins. The grief that never healed. The habit of using sex to get whatever you wanted or dull the pain. The empire of lies and torn bodies. The blood. The self-loathing. The arrogance. Everything…

“So you finally admit that you fucking feel it,” He said without the shadow of a smile, but with a scorching intensity burning through his ice-cold eyes, the flames of hell dancing in his dark pupils and licking the edge of it.

You nodded slowly and as you did your mask cracked… Then shattered. It fell to the forest ground and splintered into a thousand jagged pieces. 

His hand didn’t move. His eyes didn’t blink. But the electricity between you crackled again, like the charge of thunder before it breaks.

“Enlighten me then, ey…” he rasped, almost like a dare, with his hoarse voice making the world quake around you.

You inhaled sharply, the wind whipping your long white hair across your seraphic face. It tangled across your cheeks, veiled your eyes in long streaks of ivory, bringing out the ethereal sharpness and perfect, inhuman symmetry of your features. Your beauty was too flawless to offer comfort. Too pristine to be trusted. Tommy stared at you, unblinking, because he knew — he had always known that face didn’t belong to something holy. No, it belonged to nightmares.

When you spoke again, the forest fell silent around you.

“That’s the thing about monsters,” you said, your siren voice mingling into the howling wind like a spell, “they always recognize their own.”

And for a second, just one, you both stood there like mirrors. No more lies, no more pride nor walls of ice built high around your hearts.  Just two fractured reflections in the same cracked glass, splintered differently, but born of the same mess.

It wasn’t Amos you had hated in him.

It was you.

Taglist: @adaydreamaway08 @theshelbyclan @esposadomd @woofgocows @anathemasworld @anastasia0082 @kate654 @kxnnxy @babayaga67 @meowtastic @shelbyssins @sarai-ibn-la-ahad @bluevenus19 @kishie8 @zablife @alexandra-001 @alexizodd @helen06dreamer @kmc1989 @peakyswritings @peakyltd @chaosinkest1996@vanhelsingsbigtoe @cherubswhispers @lokigirlszendaya @justrainandcoffee @mischievouslittlecreature @jjovin3221 @randomcreator-09@weepingdreammarvel @meadowshelby @evita-shelby

[shadowqueenjude]

The most disturbing things portrayed in ACOTAR

Victim-blaming: Lucien tries to help Feyre and gets physically abused by Tamlin as a result. Feyre then proceeds to call him a dog despite Lucien doing everything he could in a difficult situation. And we're supposed to...support Feyre on this? And Rhysand throws around words like "can never forgive" man stfu you prick.

Sexual Assault: The most disturbing thing is not that Rhysand sexually assaulted Feyre. It's that he's never held accountable for this and never even apologizes at ANY point in the series. There are so many examples but this is the one that is the most disturbing.

Double Standards: We have Tamlin locking Feyre up for her own good being vilified, yet Rhysand is championed for locking Lucien and Nesta up in houses for their own good. Huh? WTF.

War Crimes: What Feyre did to the Spring Court, manipulating the sentries with the whole Ianthe thing and basically getting them killed, then weakening the Spring Court rulership which resulted in all those villagers in the Spring Court getting killed, then laying the Summer Court bare to Hybern as well, are nothing short of war crimes. And...instead of feeling regret, we have the main characters saying "Hybern's actions are their own." Like bitch what? Hybern wouldn't have been able to do shit if it wasn't for you! Have some damn accountability! And the fact that Tamlin and Tarquin are vilified for this never ceases to irk me.

Grooming: Rhysand groomed Feyre. He made excuses for everything he did with trauma, then sent Feyre out to do tasks for him like she's some kind of weapon he can use. WITHOUT giving her proper information, there is no choice. And everything he does is constantly explained away, until eventually Feyre becomes his trophy wife. Rhysand basically assigns Cassian to do the same for Nesta. I'm holding out hope that Elain will be saved from the Night Court.

The pregnancy debacle: the whole thing with the baby having wings and Rhysand withholding information from Feyre is just...disturbing. Idc if you're not telling her FoR hEr OwN gOoD, it is HER life at stake and she deserves to know. They didn't even try to shapeshift her to try and save her life? Like why is everybody seemingly more concerned about the baby than the mother? Disgusting. And why is Nesta vilified for being the only one to tell Feyre? She said it to hurt her, blah blah blah. She also wanted to show Feyre that their situations are similar. That they're BOTH being shit on by the Night Court. And when she's close to a breaking point...Nesta is forced to hike a mountain? That is physical abuse. Also, Rhysand being extremely territorial putting a shield over her and barely letting Feyre go anywhere is beyond weird.

Suicide baiting: What Rhysand did to Tamlin in ACOFAS is nothing short of suicide baiting. And...only Lucien seems to really be that concerned about it? Like...are you telling me I'm supposed to be supporting Rhysand after he basically told a depressed male to kill himself?

Segregation: Separating the Hewn City from Velaris IS segregation, no matter what excuse you try to come up with. You can't claim they're all shitty people, since your bestie Mor comes from the CoN. So, there are good people stuck in the CoN unable to get out of their torment because Rhysand decided that only certain individuals are allowed in Velaris.

Performance Feminism: Establishing laws to help women and not doing shit to enforce them is performance feminism. If he's as powerful as he says, he can 100% stop wing-cutting and r*pe. But, he's a goddamn virtue signaler so he doesn't fucking care. The thing is, SJM could've handled these topics in a much better way and it would've been fine. But she completely fucked shit up here and it's crazy that some people don't see it. Part of me is still waiting for the final book where she says, psych rhysand was the villain the whole time. If so, I'll take everything back.

[lilys0evil0twin]

How would Yandere! Poseidon & Yandere! Thor react to their darling meeting their old crush? Would they be jealous that their darling had a crush on someone else before? Also hope you stay healthy and hydrated! Have a nice day/night~ ☆♡

Oh jeez okay, okay, those two will surely not forgive me for putting them in this position but hey~ I'll blame it on y'all, their darlings~����

Thor

Who is this? Inferior, worthless, weak and utterly disappointing-...

What? You know them? Why are you two talking?

You... Why are you smiling so much?

What is this mockery, what are you trying to do here? Are you trying to get him mad? You surely wouldn't want to do such a thing to your lover would you

What was that you are saying? Oh introductions, Thor's not interested

Not one bit...

Wait

Your... Your what now?

That's... He doesn't like that word, why would you use that word

Crush? As in... Love interest? Attraction? No surely you misspoke

You can't mean that, you're not allowed to have interest in such a way in anyone

Then, now or never

No that simply does not make sense, you're just being kind, you've always been kind

Of course, there's nothing else to it

Thor wasn't particularly jealous, as stated before, there's no way you'd mean your words that way, no, no

He did let you talk, letting you keep that nice, loving composure of yours and simply moved on when you were done

Though he can't say he wasn't disgusted during the whole encounter, but thanks to his tall collar, covering most of his face, it passed as nothing more than a protective glare

Poseidon

You met their eyes, not only have your beautiful eyes landed on this worm but you dare to meet their gaze

This is unacceptable, you shouldn't talk with someone other than Poseidon himself

This... This isn't right, it's excruciating, why won't you even acknowledge his presence when he's right there with you

No this can't be happening

Poseidon the god of sea himself feeling like this over such stupidity

He refuses to feel this way, ever again, so naturally he dragged you away

The fact he was so disturbed, he hadn't even looked at the other person/god involved said it all

He did not even catch their voice, let alone their appearance, no he was too focused on you

How could you do this to him? How dare you make him feel this disgusting feeling? It's so degrading

In the end, he didn't have time to even acknowledge the other to be someone you're or were found of

And it's better to keep it this way

For all of us

[weirdero]

I’ve seen a lot of people online saying that Piper is either going to be Quinn 2.0 from Season 1 or Olivia 2.0, and honestly, I get it. I understand where those assumptions are coming from and it wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world especially if she ended up as another Quinn. She seems like a nice girl stuck in a fucked up family. But my god that would just be so boringgggg. We’re only on Season 3 it’s way too early for the show to start recycling character archetypes. I also think with the added dynamic of her brothers she’ll be her own evil freaky bitch yk. Anyways the siblings got me fucked up.

Her brothers are themselves. Saxon is the most outrageous out of three I don't think he's ever been proper humbled in his life and has a very very very disgusting black and white outlook on the world.

He's like those men who believe life revolves around sex and sex is just a game. The type of man that excuses his abhorrent terrible behavior on his “natural human instinct”.

Lochlan is definitely chiller, but still a freak. He seems to crave attention from both of his siblings in a very odd way. He enjoys Saxon’s “life advice” and gossip. I think he’s very aware of his brother’s unhinged nature and recognizes that it’s ridiculous but I genuinely don’t believe he sees it as anything more than that. He’s the kind of guy that just brushes Saxon’s behavior off because “he’s just a silly guy,” YK?

And with Piper, I think he definitely knows she’s the more normal one compared to Saxon. Even though we haven’t seen them interact much yet I think they’re able to have more honest conversations with each other. He tells her that he attempted to pray and even though he didn’t really feel any sort of divine intervention or anything he still chooses to share this with Piper.

He also gives off gossipy vibes. When Saxon tells him he thinks piper has never had sex before he decided to tell piper about it but not in a concerning “our brother is a freak” way but in a playful way, kinda like it’s just some casual chitchat, rather than something deeply weird. Like I mentioned earlier he also excuses his brother behavior by down playing it and explaining the original context of the statement as a “compliment”????

And after piper is clearly disturbed and uncomfortable with this conversation he decides to double down and ask her if she had had sex before.

This gossipy nature comes out during their lunch scene with that whole Kate and Victoria interaction. I already talked about how I interpreted both Kate’s and Victorias feelings in this scene and why the both specifically acted that way in this post but the way Lochlan acts is also very telling of who he is he's the only person at that table to question his mothers odd behavior telling her straight up was was kinda rude. But just like with Saxon I don't he actually cares or takes an issue with how his mom handled that interaction he's not actively trying to call her out but more curious than anything. Get kinda messy with it. YK? Anyways like I said he doesn’t actually care about how she acted based off how he reacts to her prostitution joke laughing along with Saxon and his father. Actually scratch that he looks at Saxon first to check if HES LAUGHING. also he was 100% ready to watch his brother jack off. Weirdo!

Then there’s piper. Like fucking pipe. She does seem to be the most sane out of all of them in the instances that I brought up she’s like literally the only person with an appropriate response. but I still can't properly pin point her. I want to believe she's sane and normal I really do and hell she might be and I might just be too fucking suspicious but there is just something about her. When lochlan tells her about saxsons comment about her sex life her first reaction to me seems defensive. Not even a "why would he say that" type of reaction which she settles for later but a "he doesn't know what I do".

And again, I might be reading into things, but it just feels so specific. I’ve been watching this season with my friends one of them specifically loves Piper’s character and another thinks she’s just a performative white girl Olivia 2.0 But neither of them think she’s a freak.

In defense of my friend who thinks she’s just another privileged white girl she did point out another moment during the family’s lunch conversation

She tells her dad that she didn’t choose this hotel and that it’s not her vibe and its like “Disneyland for rich bohemians from Malibu and their Lululemon leggings”

Then later she’s seen in yoga in what honestly I wouldn’t be surprised if they were Lululemon leggings.

Anyway, it’s almost 8pm where I am now and I need this new episode to drop now.

[evilejfan]

I posted this on FB and thought I would drop it here.

The Adult Themes in Trials

Someone earlier today made a post about the adult nature and or p*rnogr*phic themes of Outlast Trials. What's interesting about this post is that it dove tails with an issue happening currently on Tumblr where people are making an effort to excuse the behavior of the prime assets in favor of finding them physically and/or emotionally attractive. That's a whole can of worms in itself but, the reason I find it interesting that this is happening on Tumblr at the same time what's been posted here is because people are pointing out the uncomfortable and quite frankly, disgusting s*xual nature of Franco's character, as far as the whole baby fetishism and questionable moral standards thing goes.

Here's the trouble though, and why I am bringing up both themes simultaneously. This is the CORE of Outlast.

Straight out of the gate the Outlast series is designed to make you feel uncomfortable. To be honest if you've ever played the other two, in a lot of ways, Outlast Trials is extremely tame by comparison. At least the Pusher's wearing pants. Honestly though, are you reading the documents? Have you played the other games? Do you know who Papa Knoth is? Eddie Gluskin, anyone?

I read someone else's response that said they felt that they believe the makers of the games are pushing their own s*xual fetishes into the game itself. But I think that it might be the complete opposite. The game developers should be afforded the luxury of putting what they're interested in or what they like in the game. But maybe they're putting into the game what makes them uncomfortable. Perhaps they filled the lore of the game with concepts and themes that they find extremely disturbing. And the number one top thing on that list for most people is gonna be some kind of psycho s*xual themes.

I'm not trying to deliberately dismiss your thoughts and opinions about the game.You're quite welcome to them, but on the other hand you don't have to play it. There's other games out there less offensive that might be for you, but Outlast is definitely for us weirdos and perverts that like this sort of thing. In fact, I thought in the past while playing it, that I don't think it's disgusting enough. But I guess that just says a lot about my own personality.

TLDR: Franco's disgusting. I'm a perv. It took you this long to get uncomfortable with the adult themes? Welcome to the Sleep Room buddy.

[empiressys]

Bad Sanses watching horror movies:

Cross is disgusted by just about every bloody scene in the movies. He isn't //scared// necessarily, just, really queasy by the end of it. He has to look away multiple times to give his eyes a break cause some of the scenes are so nasty.

Dust is the one that gets up and leaves the room to take a break from it altogether. He's not a fan of the movies in the slightest. They tend to get his hallucinations going in a really freaky and disturbing way, but he doesn't mind the quality time it gives the gang so he simply gets up and starts stress eating in the kitchen.

Horror's unbothered by most things. Anything with emphasis on breathing, chewing, "fleshy" noises, he's over it. (Misophonia Horror my beloved) Dude is also getting up and joining Dust in the kitchen and popping open a window or two because he is SWEATING like a mf.

Killer is probably one of the people enjoying it the most. Is he a fan of everything? Hell no. But he gets a kick out of chattering during the movie and spitting out some comments to ease some nerves (his own or someone else's?? nobody really knows) and by the end of it he's probably the most content one with the movie.

Nightmare isn't one for movies. He doesn't particularly enjoy sitting on his ass and watching some people act like fools on a screen. He tends to stick to his wing of the castle while there are movie nights- but during horror movies he's been caught lurking to get closer to any sources of particularly strong negative emotions. (These tend to be Cross for his heavy disgust and Dust for his whole mess of guilt, anger, disgust, fear, etc etc)

[angel-in-your-basement]

Hi, i Hope to not disturb you, but I'm discovering new things about me with your blog, the problem is that I always feel guilty, and disgusted by myself even if i find It okay or attractive when other Person share It.

Any advice on how to deal with this senseless emotion? 🤡

Thanks to you in advance even if you don't answer, love your writing and your blog, big hug if you are comfortable with them <3

Hi!

Sorry I wasn’t able to get to this sooner! This is gonna be a long one, so I’m gonna put it under the cut. Let’s talk about one of my favourite topics: kinks & shame/guilt/disgust 🥰

So in my experience, over time your brain will get used to the ideas, and the disgust level will go down naturally - especially if you talk about it with other people who are into it, because that helps to normalize it.

But that’s not an 100% fix, so let’s talk about some things you can do to actively manage the icky feelings.

First of all, guilt + shame + disgust are all feelings that are intended to protect us from doing bad things & being bad people. When you start doing or wanting to do something that you’ve been told is “bad”, it’s normal to feel bad! It makes a lot of sense, actually - it’s our brains trying to keep us on track with our values & maintain our relationships.

But, of course, what we’ve been told is bad is generally not objectively bad, it’s heavily influenced by opinion, unprocessed emotion, politics and a whole bunch of other shit. So what we want to do is identify what we’ve internalized, and whether that actually fits for us.

The single best thing you can do is to get curious & (gently & non-judgementally) question those thoughts.

So here’s some questions to get you going & explanations to go with them:

Why is this kink “bad”? Where is that idea coming from? Do you 100% agree with this? Why or why not?

Often, it’s something very black & white like “hurting people = bad”, but when we actually unpack it, there’s a LOT of nuance to it. Like, what counts as hurting? Emotional? Physical? Is someone being hurt always a bad thing, or is it sometimes necessary in order for us to learn/hold boundaries/etc.? What if someone wants to be hurt? Is there any situations hurting someone might be okay in?

What do you feel like it says about you that you’re into it?

Generally, this comes down to something like “if I am into this, I am a bad person”. So I would question again: what’s a bad person? How do you know if someone is one? What is the exact criteria and cut off point for being “bad”?

One particular point to mention here is that it is my very strong belief (guided by research + my job + personal experience) that thoughts, feelings, urges etc. are not “you”, and they are not bad. Where we get into “bad” territory is in how you deal with them. I am a big supporter of identifying the core needs behind your thoughts & urges, and meeting them in healthy ways, like kink! Which leads us to…

What are you getting out of this kink?

For instance, a lot of my kinks, both sub and dom, come from my need to be wanted, and exploring the extremes of that (what if someone wanted me so bad they would do anything to have me? What if someone wanted me so bad they would do anything I tell them?). Other common themes are control, exploration of insecurities, exploration of shame/taboo, and so on.

Do you want to be okay with this kink? If yes, what boundaries do you need in place to help you feel better about exploring it? If no, why not?

This one is important because you don’t HAVE to be okay with a kink. You don’t have to engage with it, even if your horny brain thinks it’s a good idea. If you don’t want to engage with it, set out a plan outside of horny time for how you will hold that boundary. If you do want to engage with it, what parts are most uncomfortable? Do you need to engage with them in order to engage with this kink? Again, if you DO want to be okay with stuff, ease yourself into it. Go slow.

And most importantly: connection

Nothing helps more with shame than to talk about what you’re ashamed of with someone who you know will be kind, non-judgmental and can relate to you. That’s what kinky friends are for!

One final note:

If you are worried that you are a bad person, it’s extremely unlikely that you are. Bad people don’t sit around worrying that they are bad.

[frollosversion]

Why is Hellfire (AND JUDGE CLAUDE FROLLO'S PERSONALITY) creepy in itself?

Take it from a Theater Major! Let's dive in his song breakdown!

In a musical, there are 3 types of songs. There are "establishing/new songs", an "I am song", and an "I want" song.

Establishing/new songs are made to— self explanatory— establish the existence of the set and the characters without getting much depth as it focuses on the build up of the world the characters are living in or what the center of that place is supposed to be.

Let's not stray too far. Let's use The Bells of Notre Dame. Clopin, as the narrator, elaborates that an object, or a phenomena is linked to the character but doesn't really say what the character's in depth wants, needs etc are included (Which is the Bells and the Cathedral herself). 'The bells of Notre Dame' is played at the first part of the film/musical to establish a backstory or a character's focal point and a glimpse of moral standpoint (Claude's backstory and the Existence of Quasimodo) and to establish the setting (Which is Paris 1482 + 1462 flashback). That's the establishing/new song. It is also used as breathers like Flight into Egypt.

Next is an "I want Song". "I want" songs are automatically given to the main characters so the audience can get a peek of the beliefs of these characters and resonate with them in a sense. This kind of song elaborates the purpose and goals they try to achieve.

Quasimodo's "Out There" is a very good example of an "I want" song. He sings about his dream/goal to go down the bell tower without any consequences— "Just to live one day out there" as he would quote (love you quasi). That's where he's at and that's what he wants. To feel like he belongs. (ALSO, GOD HELP THE OUTCASTS IS AN I WANT SONG)

Next is an "I am" song. Now, an "I am" song isn't directly given to villains/anti-heroes either. These can be used as a type of song to other characters. But in most cases, villains own these songs. Good example of an "I am" song is:

“Gaston” from Beauty and the Beast,

“Poor Unfortunate Souls” from The Little Mermaid,

“Mother Knows Best” from Rapunzel,

or “Be Prepared” from The Lion King.

All of these songs explain who they are not just on one fragment. But the entirety of it.

Villains use this to establish the dynamic and the power they are trying to uphold and "shove in" the viewer's faces to who they are.

Now, the problem (the situation, rather) in Hellfire, is Frollo gets an I WANT song instead of an I AM song. Again, An I WANT song is used for the protagonists— to allow us to see the goodness in their hearts and what they want best.

He tried to just do an I AM song, given that the first verse is literally

“Beata Maria, you know I am a righteous man of my virtue I am justly proud.

Beata Maria, you know I'm so much purer than the common vulgar weak licentious crowd.”

He tries to convey that Hellfire is an I AM song but eventually slips into the lines like he wanted her bad. Like... BAD bad.

And now since Frollo got an I WANT song, we saw what he wanted, which is lusting on Esmeralda + his moral dilemma. AND WE DON'T REALLY WANT TO SEE THAT, DO WE?? (I do. hehe). We saw things that we didn't really want to see. In this instance, his "little trouble at the fireplace."

And it's disgusting and disturbing to see how twisted a person is when left repressed and pushed. Not to mention that he's being sacrilegious himself because he blames that it's the Most High's plan that he made the devil "so much stronger than the man.". It's creepy. I know. sighs.

He's given a divine intervention (film), when he said "Let her taste the fires of hell or else let her be mine and mine alone!" Which he straight up rejects even if he asked for the sign himself AND PROCEEDS TO SING AND FINISH THE WHOLE DAMN THING.

So yeah, he's creepy, hellfire is twisted as it is. You get the gist. Thanks for listening to me yap. Take notes in case you wanted to write a musical. Yun lang! Mwah. HAHAHAHAHA

[qtubbo]

There has been some talk (mainly on twitter but some here) about calling Em, Tubbo’s daughter. It comes off as so cold, and anti what qsmp family have been teaching, if you don’t agree with that dynamic being there that’s perfectly fine (you are allowed opinions funfact). The reason though is always upsetting, stating that Empanada has enough parents, that she’s perfectly happy without him, that any outsiders to her established family would be an intruder trying to take her away. Qsmp’s family’s are a village, what’s so disturbing about someone non official becoming an eggs parent that didn’t “join” the family.

Using Bad and Pomme as an example, Pomme has 4 other parents (in this case I guess it would be bad taking pomme from the french) that take good care of her. When Bad considers Pomme his daughter, it’s out of love, just because he wasn’t assigned doesn’t mean he can’t have parental love for her. Pomme would be fine without Bad being her dad, but Bad being her dad doesn’t Affect her negatively at all. Pomme still choses to wake up for her other parents, bad doesn’t have priority, and it’s ridiculous to assume that he took her from them. Pomme and Bad are not related by a family tree, they just love each other like father and daughter and so they became that.

It’s a bigger statement of the fandom as a whole and how we really push for familial ties forged by blood even in an adoption setting. For example no one had issue with the idea of Roier being Richas’s dad instead of his uncle because he had forged a literal connection to Cellbit. In the same vein people often depict Cellbit as Bobby’s dad in another life even though he never really got to take care of him. These were never considered taking Richas or Bobby from their parents because there was a marriage, Roier joined Cellbit’s family. The most I ever see going against this dynamic is people arguing Cellbit isn’t Jaiden’s family, which inherently pushes the point once again.

We are given examples of non traditional family relationships where everything is done by adoption and there is barely any blood relationships. Though as a fandom we still try to push things into a traditional box. Fit and Tubbo are not related, nor is Fit to any of Sunny’s parents, yet he still calls her his child. They love each other like father and daughter, so why should it be any different why should Fit be blocked from that because he’s not married to any of Sunny’s parents.

Why is seeing a familial relationship more similar to father and daughter between Empanada and Tubbo an issue. If you believe they love each other like that, shouldn’t that be enough. Why must we consider love like that to be certified, that anyone else getting involved is an invader that is just getting in the way of the old parents.

Every single egg was adopted none have parents that would be considered traditional, but yet we still push for the perfect traditional nuclear family were there is no village, there is no family outside the one given, and believing in anything else is disgusting.