#maybe it's time for a reread

[ruanbaijie]

my final tunhai physical volume arrived 💕 somehow the mainland cn publications of huaishang's novels always have the most beautiful covers i love them so much i mean look at the poyun and tunhai covers altogether it's book cover porn 🥹 the freebies have the unholy quartet!!! and they featured one of my favourite quotes from tunhai!!! 😭😭😭😭😭

你要带我回家吗？ are you here to bring me home? 不，我不用带你，你在的地方就是我的家。 no, I don't have to bring you home. wherever you are is my home.

[arc-haism]

alternate version.

i was looking through my wips and found the si!kagami piece i did back in the summer for vermillioncrown's knb fic "ball is life, but you still need to pay rent" & wanted to polish it up a bit!

[obsob]

bedtime story with my love !!

[barawrah]

beloved

[c-kiddo]

thinking abt this .. the panic :( the way he just holds onto himself :( just tells himself theres work to do : (

also look at the little beetle carapace belle left for him :(((((

[ruporas]

invisible scars (referenced previous talk here)

[ID: A colourless, digital Trigun comic of Vash and Wolfwood talking about Wolfwood's scars. They're both laying in bed and topless. Vash lays on top of Wolfwood, playing with the rosary around his neck. Then, Vash kisses a spot on Wolfwood's chest. Wolfwood asks, "What are you doing?" Vash smiles sadly, "You got shot here. In the last town we visited. You didn't even bother moving."

Vash props himself up over Wolfwood, who frowns slightly. Wolfwood is quiet for a moment before he says, "You remember that, huh?" Vash grabs Wolfwood's left wrist and brings it to his face. "And here." He kisses another spot there. "When you helped free the hostages from that robber..." Wolfwood dismissively says, looking away, "Was a lucky shot." Vash huffs, “Don’t brag. Jeez.”

Half of Wolfwood's expression is shown, eyes returning to Vash who is now sitting up, continuing to say, "And..." Vash goes on and kiss Wolfwood's right palm. "You got cut here, even though that girl was aiming at me." A moment from the past flashes, of Wolfwood grabbing a knife aimed at Vash, his hand bleeding.

At present, Vash moves down and puts another kiss on Wolfwood's right shoulder. "And here, from watching my back." Another memory flashes of Wolfwood and Vash back to back. Vash looks back as Wolfwood grins while holding Punisher, bleeding from multiple gunshots in his shoulder.

"And," Vash combs up Wolfwood's hair to reveal his forehead, "Here." A final memory shows Wolfwood with a regeneration vial in his mouth while getting shot on his temple. The next panel is framed in blood with Vash at the center, eyes wide and stunned in horror. The next panel is a closed up shot of Wolfwood's eye, locked on Vash's face.

Back to present, Vash’s head is bowed down as Wolfwood raises a hand to his nape and says, “Spikey.”

Wolfwood looks serious and frowns as he says, "We talked about this. Those were my decisions. They're not there anymore. Forget about them." Vash looks very sad before he smiles ruefully and says, "I still see them. All the time." He leans down so they touch foreheads. Wolfwood’s sorrowful expression can be seen as Vash says, "You protect so much. I could never forget what you've done to me. And many others..."

In the last image, they're drawn more cartoonishly. Wolfwood sweats and asks, "You don't actually remember every wound, right?" Vash points at a spot on his chest. "Kuroneko left a scratch here 7 times." Wolfwood, startled, says, "Why the hell are you keeping count—" End ID]

Credits for ID here and here

[teapetal44]

TW: ABUSE, CHILD ABUSE

“He wants to air this dirty laundry to the world does he…? Dabi, you fiend…you’ve been waiting for this moment…when they couldn’t prevent mass destruction…and faith in heroes is wavering.” - chapter 292

I truly, wholeheartedly, believe that MHA as a story upholds the myth of the perfect victim. I do not want to discuss if Horikoshi did that on purpose, or subconsciously because of inner bias – I find no meaning in doing so. For me the execution of an idea, in the grand scheme of the narrative, holds more value than the intention of the author. I’ve also had my fair share of people infantilizing Asian authors in the anime community for their poor writing decisions for one lifetime. It’s patronizing to both the author and the people reading it. Whether or not Horikoshi intended for his themes of abuse to paint the picture they did does not matter, because that’s how it reads as.

MHA puts victims of abuse in narrow boxes and softly dictates what’s an acceptable reaction to said abuse. Victims are continuously walking a tightrope between being deserving of compassion and sympathy and being unredeemable monsters who are too far gone and are only good for martyrdom after being put down.  

Eri fits the clean cut depiction of abuse victims that media usually gears towards. She is untouched by the cruelty around her - she preserves her innocence and kindness. She isn't assertive, but rather meek and passive. She doesn't fight back with force. And when offered help, she is receptive to it. That is not to say that Eri's depiction doesn't have a place in fiction, or that her portrayal can't be representative of the experiences of some - as we all deal with trauma and the inhumanity people throw at us differently. We see the same thing in the portrayal of Fuyumi, who shares many of the qualities discussed above. The same thing applies to her - i personally love the idea of all the siblings having different reaction to their childhood trauma and abuse. It shows that victims are not some type of monolith.

But the narrative treats the "forgiving" or "receptive to help/support" victims of abuse with more grace and with much more kindness. if you are willing to forgive, or the very least be quietly tolerant, the story grants you a happy ending. Forgiveness isn't a bad thing, it is an individual choice - but an abuse victim shouldn't have to do it for them to have a happy ending.

In a vacuum Eri and Fuyumi's character arcs and depictions of abuse are good but it becomes a problem when that's the only experience and type of victim we ever hold in high value or recognize as valid and deserving of compassion. Which the story reinforces.

Touya and Tenko's backstories aren't pretty nor comfortable or easy to sit through. Their responses to abuse aren't either. Reactive abuse is very much real.

[sysig]

Two skeletons in a trench lab coat (Patreon)

Bonus:

He’s very careful! Everything was fine before you interrupted!

[mamawasatesttube]

this might be mean but. it really ticks me off when people respond to authors and artists wishing for actual community and engagement with their works by saying "oh but you see im just so anxious i cannot offer you any kind words." with the optional "but do please keep making things for me anyway!" because like...

a) do you understand how anxiety-inducing it can be to pour a little piece of your soul into a work of art and share it publicly? i feel like you don't see the people creating these things as people like you and that is an issue. we are people who just really love a thing and want to talk about it with other people who also love that thing.

but moreover, and this is the part that might be mean, b) damn why doesn't your anxiety prevent you from making excuses to us then? i wish it did! like if you're SO anxious about a fic author blocking you for saying something nice, why are you not anxious about getting blocked for telling that author "okay but i don't want to comment on your works though"??? because i can tell you which of these two things is way more likely to piss me off and it isn't the comment.

like. idk man. if you really don't want to comment on and engage with people's creative works, no one can force you to. but also consider maybe not commenting on and engaging with those people's posts just to explain that you don't want to comment on/engage with their works. if you are so committed to staying quiet and being a passive consumer then commit to the bit and stop asking creative people who put way more of themselves out there than you are to pat you on the back and reassure you that you'll still keep getting free content even if you can't do so much as drop a "this was really good!" in the comments.

[to-illustrate-the-stars]

happy birthday to the cat lover ever of all time... my worstie matoba seiji 🐈‍⬛🐈

[0vergrowngraveyard]

It was another quiet and still night in Green Hill.

Sonic was sitting on his bed in Tails’ lab, leaned up against the wall of his room. He didn’t use his bed very often, he always preferred the couch since it was easy to just plop down on and pass out, but he’d been using it a lot recently.

He wasn’t sure why he suddenly wanted to use the usually forgotten room. It's not like what piece of furniture he decided to lay on really mattered, he rarely slept either way.

Ever since he returned from the Shatterspace, everything just felt…different.

It wasn’t a good or bad thing, it was just different.

He was different.

And it’s not like he was very discreet about it, his friends definitely noticed. They just never said anything about it.

Well…that wasn’t entirely true. There was one person who occasionally hinted at his concern, but was never direct about it.

He knew the hedgehog too well to do that.

He looked down at the back of one of his gloved hands. For a split second, his white gloves turn grayish with white lines forming a grid, a familiar piece of technology at the center of his hand.

He blinked and it was gone.

Sonic sighed, putting his hand being his head, his other resting on his stomach, as he closed his eyes.

“Sonic?”

His ears perked up at the sound of his name. A small, fond smile forced its way onto the hedgehog’s muzzle as he opened his eyes halfway, his emerald green eyes meeting the baby blues that belonged to his little brother.

“Shouldn’t you be in bed, kiddo?”

Tails’ expression went from unreadable to annoyed in record time, an all too familiar glare forming a knot in Sonic’s stomach. A small pout formed on the kit’s lips as he averted his gaze downwards.

“And before you go and call me a hypocrite,” He moved the hand that was situated on his stomach, bringing it to about shoulder height and pointing down. “I am in bed.”

“You know that’s not what you mean by that.“ Tails groaned, rubbing his gloveless paw down his face. “And I was but I…I just…nevermind.”

Eyes slightly wider, Sonic took another look over his brothers’ appearance. He wasn’t wearing any shoes, gloves, or even socks, all four brown paws visible, and his fur was slightly ruffled. He always wore at least socks and gloves in his workshop and if the fuss he made anytime Sonic messed with him was anything to go by, he hated his fur being unnecessarily messy.

The kid was right, he had been in bed.

He noticed Tails starting to turn to leave and he sat up a little straighter as he swallowed past the lump forming in his throat.

He really didn’t want him to go.

“D’you have a nightmare?” Sonic asked him, desperately hoping that his voice sounded normal enough but alas, the kid could read him like an open book. The look he gave him definitely suggested that his voice wavered a bit.

Tails fidgeted with the tip of one of his namesakes and glanced back at the floor. “N-no, I just…it’s stupid, I’m sorry.”

Sonic begged to differ, Tails never came looking for him when he was upset anymore — even during thunderstorms, he’d argue that he was too old to look for comfort in his big brother and that he should be able to handle it himself — so the fact that the kit was standing in his doorway looking upset meant something was wrong.

And Sonic had a pretty good idea as to what it was.

“I can guarantee you it’s not, bud. What’s botherin’ ya?”

Tails was quiet for a few seconds, most likely debating if he should voice his worries. His grip on his tail tightened as he took a sharp breath, mentally preparing for the daunting task that telling your big brother about what’s bothering you apparently is.

“It’s just…” He started, refusing to meet his eyes, “ever since we got back from the cave with the whole prism thing, you’ve been…weird.”

Sonic’s mouth pressed into a line, it seemed he had guessed correctly.

“You’re constantly trying to be around us, but you’re also distant. A-and…it sorta feels like you’re walking on eggshells around me specifically.”

The kit’s ears pressed against the back of his head. “So uh…I guess I just wanted to ask if I did anything to upset you recently?”

Sonic just stared at him. The answer was no, easy. It was pretty much always no. Tails could never upset him. But the words were caught in his throat.

Because that was it, wasn’t it? Tails could never upset him, but someone who looked exactly like him did (well, he wouldn’t say that Nine upset him, either. It was more like he scared him, but even that felt a little harsh.)

He knew it was wrong, projecting one two-tailed fox onto another. He thought he’d learned his lesson, but considering his baby brother was standing at his doorway at the ass crack of dawn, hurt by the way he’d been subconsciously treating him like he had been the one who tried to steal his prism energy, it was pretty obvious that he hadn’t.

But he couldn’t help it that everytime he looked into the kit’s eyes, all he saw was that angry and hurt version of him.

He must’ve been staring for too long because a small “I’m sorry…” snapped him back to reality.

Tails had shrunken in on himself, looking smaller than he usually did. He looked so…young. He looked so guilty even though he hadn’t even done anything. He turned to leave, namesake still in his hands.

Sonic sighed, spreading one arm open. “C’mere bud.”

Tails’ eyes went wide in disbelief…and embarrassment.

“W-what? No-! no. It’s fine, really. I can go, there’s no need for this. Really! I’ll—“

“My arm’s gettin’ tired kiddo.” The hedgehog said, gesturing his head towards the open spot next to him. “Ya got like, 10 seconds.”

Tails hesitantly took a step forward, looking up at his brother to see what he’d do and once nothing happened, he took another step and looked up again.

Then he walked as fast as he could to his brother’s bed, climbing up and curling into his side. Sonic let out a chuckle as he pulled his little brother close to him, Tails responding by snuggling closer.

They sat in silence for a while. Sonic gently rubbed the kit’s back as he blankly stared ahead. The sound of palm leaves gently rustling in the wind was the only thing that filled the air.

“I really am sor—“ Tails started to say, but he was cut off by Sonic ruffling his fur.

“Shush, you.” The hedgehog said. “You didn’t do anything wrong, I promise.”

He looked down to see the kit looking at him, a confused expression on his face. “But-“

“Nope. I’ve just been a little stupid is all. Nothing that’s your fault.” Sonic expected the quiet that would follow, so he let his guard down, until he heard a small snicker coming from the fox kit.

“That’s a recent development?”

Unfortunately, he forgot how cruel his beloved baby brother could be.

Sonic’s gaze shot towards the kit, his expression turned to one of obviously fake shock as his brother giggled quietly into his side. He squeezed the kit as hard as he could without actually causing damage, Tails wheezing out a laugh in response.

“And here I was having a moment, speaking from the heart and all that, and this is what I get?” He said in a joking tone in between Tails’ giggles.

“You set yourself up for that one, don’t blame me!” The kit said, earning being trapped in a headlock and dragged halfway onto the hedgehog’s lap and noogied mercilessly. “Sonic!”

“Nuh uh, you don’t get any mercy after that!”

They both continued to laugh for a few minutes. Sonic dragged his little brother fully onto his lap, the kit squeaking as the hedgehog wrapped both arms around him in a tight hug. “Sorry for makin’ ya feel like something was wrong, bud.” he said.

Tails snuggled up against his big brother’s chest, feeling nothing but the security, love and warmth he’d grown up with flowing throughout his body as he melted into the hedgehog’s touch, a soft purr making itself known. “You don’t need to apologize.”

Sonic’s arms stayed looped around the kit as he leaned back and closed his eyes, the rumbling from the fox’s chest soothing the knot that had formed in his own, just like it always did.

The comfortable silence returned. Sonic was glad that the conversation turned light hearted. He didn’t think he was ready to even begin to explain whatever the hell happened in the Shatterverse, especially to Tails. Not when he knew the kit would blame himself no matter how many times he was told not to.

As the hedgehog felt his brother slowly drifting into slumber, his soft breathes slowly evening out, he suddenly felt a burning need to say something to him. Something he never usually said out loud because he never needed to. It always went without saying, that’s just how close their bond was.

But after everything that happened…

“Hey, bud?” He whispered, the kit stirring as he gently tapped him.

“I love you, Miles. I don’t want you to ever forget that, ok?”

Wide blue eyes snapped up at him, blinking owlishly. He was definitely confused by the use of his real name, but instead of voicing that confusion, he just smiled and nuzzled into his brother’s chest.

“Love you too, Sonic.”

Somewhere in the Shatterverse, there was another twin-tailed fox kit who sat alone in The Grim. Another Miles who had no big brother to cuddle with when he had nightmares or when he was just worried that he had somehow hurt his feelings.

Deep down, Sonic hoped his words would somehow reach him just as they reached the twin-tailed fox kit asleep on his chest.

He leaned forward, placing a light kiss on the top of his little brother’s head before he slowly followed the kit into slumber.

[anomura]

so. i've been thinking probably way much about bucky's attachment/abandonment issues bc they're soooo loud to me like he clings to people so hard!!! he wants to be chosen!!! him asking gale "did you miss me?" after spending objectively not that much time apart half joking but half sincere bc he's used to people getting tired of him and leaving so he has to make sure.

And it makes gale saying no to london even more of a Big Deal. and paulina leaving him the morning after even when he asked her to stay!!! and lil kissing him but getting with dye!! and once again feeling rejected in the stalag when gale won't leave with him, won't even entertain the thought of it !! andddd not having anyone writing him letters, possibly not even his family for reasons we don't get to know but probably are a big part of why he has attachment issues

i've already said this but i'll say it again even though he's confident/cocky at times he doesn't... like himself . or has a lot of regard for his own life which we literally see in the show. he was Capital S Suicidal – bc of the stalag obviously but come on he drinks like crazy and gambles and smokes even before things get Really Bad. and the plane wing sceneeeee you don't goad your friend !! not even a random person but a Friend into hitting you if you're a well adjusted individual. And he was ready to give up fr when gale went down. he did not want to bail out with brady!!! AND him risking his eye to get gale a bike (which while yeah crazy yaoi moment . to me also ties into him needing to be wanted/needed so people won't leave him) so yeah clearly not huge on self preservation which at least in my perception is something that stems from self hatred

all of these rejections (even if justified at times) are probably a series of blows to his perception of himself/sense of self and just reaffirm to him in his head that he's not good enough and he is right to expect to be left by the people he loves. and he tries to stop that by clinging as hard as he can and not being expendable/replaceable. but if they do leave he can rationalize it because if everyone leaves him clearly it's his fault, he's the one lacking – which feeds his recklessness and self destructive coping mechanisms even more

[maeofthedead]

God, the bit in TSC where Jean is furious at the accusation that he didn't fight back because he did. Until one day he just couldn't get back up.

He was just a kid. He still is

[cringefail-clown]

okay lets do this: 5k likes on this post and ill read hivebent from start to finish without dipping halfway through. ill also liveblog it. no listening to lets read homestuck allowed, gotta do this the old fashioned way - by reading all the walls of text myself

[myokk]

It's a clear, beautiful summer's day, the type of day that starts out bright and full of birdsong, that ends looking up at the stars and the moon while crickets chirp and fireflies show soft bursts of light. When the air is warm and full of life and the smell of hot grass and lavender and honey permeates everything.

The whole summer had been like that, really. Running outside with abandon, chasing each other through the tall grass deliriously happy and lying down in the fields surrounding their village, watching the clouds float by while they eat cucumber sandwiches. It's the summer before their first year at Hogwarts; the Sallow twins know that their life's about to change and are determined to enjoy their last summer of childhood.

Maybe they're too old for this sort of thing - they are eleven, after all, but both of them know that this summer is a turning point for them and they want to cherish every moment for as long as possible. Their parents have been encouraging them, often sending them out for the whole day, piling journals and ink and quills and picnic baskets full of food in their hands, encouraging them to research and be curious about the world around them as they had always done.

This day, however, their parents are almost eager to push the twins out of the house. Their mum's smile doesn't quite reach her eyes. Sebastian feels nervous about this, but doesn't realize why until much later, when the memory is analyzed and remembered during his dreams. (definitely not while awake). When they leave the house in the morning, she makes sure to kiss each of them on the cheeks which she normally never does and Sebastian pushes her away in disgust, much to his future horror. In the moment, all he can think is that he might still be holding on to the last moments of his childhood, but he's too old to be kissed by his mum.

(but now, Sebastian doesn't know if his memory is faulty and he is adding moments that never actually existed in the first place. the mind is a tricky place)

He never allows himself to think about these halcyon days, the perfect-until-it-wasn't summer before they went to Hogwarts; this day in particular is forbidden to remember. His unconscious mind rebels against his iron will.

They spend the morning looking for the fairies that Anne had dreamed about the night before. She's convinced that it's a prophetic dream and they march around in circles in the little copse of trees - a forest to the two children, who haven't really ventured out of their village - as Anne tries to remember where she had seen the fairies in her dream.

Sebastian is happy to follow her even if (maybe especially if) he thinks it's a futile adventure - what else are summer days for?

They're in that strange junction between childhood and adolescence; desperate to just grow up already and become the people they were always meant to be, and yet just wanting to spend their days being kids, without a care in the world.

"Come on, Sebastian," Anne calls to him, a tiny stream gurgling between them. In one hand, she's holding the map that she drew as soon as she woke up; in the other, boots stuffed with her stockings.

Sebastian huffs as he trudges behind her, arms full with their bags, his shoes, and the picnic basket. Anne had offered to help him carry things, but he refused on principle. Their dad is always doing small things like this for the women in his life, and Sebastian wants to be just like him.

Anyways, Anne has her own role as the leader today, and it won't do to have her bogged down.

And he's eleven, more than old enough to carry everything.

He steps through the tiny creek, mud and slush squishing through his toes, and he smiles. There isn't anything he loves more than being outside, except maybe being outside with a good book.

"Keep your eyes peeled for a tree with a knobby trunk, with lots of knots that look like faces," Anne tells him, glancing over her shoulder, then turns her face back to her map and scrunches up her face. "In my dream, the fairies lived nearby."

They spend the rest of the morning continuing their fruitless search, laughing as they walk in circles, then set up their picnic in the field next to their house.

"What do you think Hogwarts will be like?" Anne asks, a dreamy look on her face.

Sebastian doesn't look at her when he answers. He lies back and stares at the clouds. They've already had this conversation hundreds of times since their Hogwarts letters arrived, both of them have their parts memorized. "Amazing. I can't wait to actually be able to use our magic instead of just reading about it."

Anne rolls to her side and props herself up on her elbow, getting a better look at her brother's face. With a smirk, she says, "I think I'll like Transfiguration the best. I can't wait to be able to turn you into a -"

A huge noise interrupts her before she can continue. Sebastian sees the confusion in her face before he truly registers that something has happened. It's like everything's moving in slow motion and all he remembers clearly whenever he dreams of this day are his feelings of confusion and disbelief and the smell of fire.

There's a huge explosion and the air is full of smoke and he and Anne are scrambling up, the picnic blanket tangled up around their bare feet and -

Hand in hand they run in the direction of the huge black smoke that is billowing up. It coats the air - they can't see anything and the smell of burning fills their noses and the smoke fills their lungs and they're coughing coughing coughing -

Sebastian doesn't want his sister anywhere near the blackened husk of their former house but he is also terribly afraid to be alone. They stand in the middle of what used to be their house, blackened half-walls, charred wood that used to be their table, the old couch they read on every night, it's all smoldering, all gone, the thick black smoke making his eyes water and choking and smothering everything in its wake. His mind can't comprehend what he's seeing. Everything is so familiar and yet so wrong.

He doesn't know how long he and Anne stand there, clutching each others' hands like they are a tether to reality. Which, he supposes, they are. They might be there thirty seconds, ten minutes, one hour, an eternity...

Then, neighbors are running to the twins, coughing, covering their faces in the crooks of their elbows as they conjure blankets with their wands and wrap Sebastian and Anne up and drag them out of what is - was - their home.

This part is always hazy. Sebastian can't remember if he cries. Or if he even says anything. He just stands there with Anne, the smoke thick and oppressive as it pours out of their house. Everything is crumbling apart.

(A hand gently caresses his scalp, fingers light and reassuring as they dance through his hair)

Their neighbors try their hardest to salvage what they can. The daguerrotype that their mother had cherished more than anything, taken a few years before, miraculously survives. Sebastian stares at it, the tiny figures moving and laughing and smiling as though everything is perfect. He wants to throw it and break it or maybe rip it up to shreds but he can't bring himself to do anything but stare.

Their father's wand is also shoved into Sebastian's hand, unscathed. It was found just outside of his father's curled fingers, lying pristine on the ground as if mocking the destruction that it caused.

At some point, their Uncle Solomon, who they've only really seen once a year growing up, shows up with a loud crack and tears through the rubble, tears carving wet tracks through the soot on his face. His voice goes rough with desperation and when he walks up to the two orphans, he is almost unrecognizable.

As if in slow motion - maybe an after-effect of the curse that has destroyed their lives is that the air has turned into molasses - Sebastian watches his uncle stagger over to them. He looks much older than Sebastian remembers.

Later, when Sebastian looks at his reflection in the mirror of his new home, the boy staring back at him also looks much older than he remembers.

Before It Felt Like A Sin, Chapter 14