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jeonscatalyst · 2 days

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LET’S TALK ABOUT “ARE YOU SURE?!”

I started doing a very long review of the entire season of AYS but I changed my mind along the way because I have seen so many other people give reviews of the show which I generally agree with so me doing another one just to repeat the same thoughts felt a little unnecessary so I decided to look into some aspects of Jikook’s special bond which AYS practically reaffirmed or which some us might be finding out for the first time. This post is going to be incredibly long so brace yourselves.

These are mostly my observations and some of these observations are not new to me at all. These observations would be supported by mentions of moments from the show or twitter links to see some described moments.

*Jimin listens to Jungkook

I love how Jimin and Jungkook listen and pay attention to each other but it was especially beautiful to see this aspect of their dynamic play out in AYS. I noticed that no matter how unimportant what Jungkook was saying seemed, Jimin always listened to him, validated him and participated in the conversation . The two moments I recall the most (there are more) were from the Jeju episodes. In episode 5 while at the meat restaurant, I loved how Jimin just sat there listening as Jungkook explained to him how to tenderize meat. You could tell that for some reason that topic was important to Jungkook or he loved talking about it and Jimin knew this so he encouraged the conversation by asking follow up questions and Jungkook happily explained things to him. Now I don’t particularly think Jimin was very interested to know how to tenderize meat or all of that but it was beautiful how he created a space where Jungkook felt comfortable enough to just talk about the most simple things knowing that someone was actually listening and paying attention to him.

Then we also have the moment when they all got back from the last restaurant they visited in Jeju. We see Jungkook happily telling Jimin that he saw two bikers on their way home and this was so sweet on its own because things like this show you how innocent and child like Jungkook is because things like that still amuse or excite him but what was even more touching to me was Jimin’s response. Jimin didn’t just stay quiet or just say “ok”or “really” and leave it at that but he actually engaged in the coversation too and told Jungkook that he saw him waving at them. This was really precious to me because it’s beautiful how Jk knows that he can talk to Jimin about any and everything and he would always get a response that doesn’t make him feel like what he is saying isn’t important.

These are things that people easily ignore or undermine but seeing moments like this explains why Jungkook said he found the greatest comfort in Jimin and why Jimin is who he went to when he needed company.

*Jungkook is more verbally expressive around Jimin.

I don’t know if many people have noticed this but when watching BTS content, it is easy to notice that Jungkook is usually quieter among all the members. He doesn’t talk much and rarely ever initiates topics for discussion but just goes along with them. We usually see more of the physically expressive side of Jk when he is around other people but AYS showed me a side of Jk I must I admit I didn’t know too well.

With Jimin, Jungkook is more vocally expressive. We saw him literally take lead of conversations, vocally express how much he loved the show and how much fun he was having, we saw him initiate conversations quite a bit and I must say this felt new ans different from the Jk we know in other content who usually can’t even speak over his hyungs. We usually saw him try to say something and eventually give up, he didn’t vocally express his thoughts much unless he was specifically asked but with Jimin, he is so different. Maybe the more accurate way to put this is that Jungkook is the biggest yapper around Jimin even though he goes quieter with others.

I also love the fact that we don’t only see him vocally express his happiness. I love that we see him express his frustrations at Jimin too. When he is mad at Jimin he doesn’t hide it, when he is not impressed he doesn’t hide it, when he is sad or hurt by something Jimin says or does he doesn’t hide it. This shows a very deep level of understanding and trust because Jungkook knows he doesn’t have to pretend around Jimin. He is sure and secure in whatever bond they have that he is ok with showing Jimin every side of his. His happiness, excitement, pain, sadness, frustrations, anger. This is what an ideal relationship is like to me. This is what a real deep connection feels like to me and seeing Jikook like this melted my heart. I was so happy to able to see this side of Jungkook because it’s not a side we had seen alot.

I love how Jungkook feel comfortable talking about the most mundane things in settings where he feels the most comfortable or with people he feels the most comfortable with. After watching AYS, I got to finally understand why Jungkook loved doing very long lives so much. I think we can all agree that there is a certain level of comfort Jungkook feels when he is Live. He talks about any and everything to us seated on the other sides of our screens watching him. He tells us about the size of Bams poop, tells us about meals he loves to cook, tells us about the most unserious stories about wanting to meet and befriend ghosts, he feels comfortable falling asleep with us watching. When I think about it, I feel like he does that alot because he knows he can just talk and we would just listen without judging or openly judging the things he likes to talk about. Maybe with some friends or actual people in his life, he can’t just sit with them and talk about whatever he wants to talk about because some people might not find the “weird” things he likes to talk about fun or interesting, i mean how many people want to just sit there and hear about meat tenderizing? How many people want to sit and hear or talk about the size of a dog’s poop? How many people would just be quiet and listen to you talk about sand fleas? I think when Jungkook is around people he or settings that he knows he can just be completely himself and talk about whatever he want, he just goes off completely. That is how I see him and Jimin.

*Jikook truly enjoy spending time together

I’m sure many of us already know this but AYS once again showed that Jimin and Jungkook actually love spending time together. I’m not talking about time where they can just meet, do one of two fun activities and then go their separate ways, I am talking about them truly enjoying each other’s company no matter what they are doing. We saw them sticking together, choosing to do almost everything together and going to bed together even when there was another member in the mix. After their showers on those nights in Jeju, they could have just gone and done their different things like we saw tae do but they enjoyed sticking together and doing things together. It makes sense why over the years, we have heard from members and staff that Jikook were together alot. Makes sense why they called themselves all nighter buddies and we saw that dynamic at play in Jeju.

*Jikook have an insane amount of Inside Jokes

This is one nobody can argue. Jimin and Jungkook have an insane amount of inside Jokes and they watch alot of the same things. So many times people around them don’t understand the things they say. Hell even us watching had to wait for people to dig and explain to us what some of the things they said meant.

We saw this at play again throughout the AYS episodes. I love how Jimin and Jungkook instantly get each other and how they immediately pick up what the other is saying while others around them are still trying to figure things out. This is one of the ways you can tell that two people spend alot of time together and know each other deep.

*Jikook don’t need alot to feel happy and to have fun with each other

Jimin and Jungkook are two people who can create fun and happiness for themselves in any situation. They don’t need to be doing any fun physical activities to really enjoy or have fun being around each other. Just a simple drive, a walk, a meal, or just sitting down talking is fun for them. Just a train ride listening to music from the same airphones is interesting and fun to them. They don’t get bored around each other doing the most mundane things. They honestly enjoy the smallest things and as Jungkook said “These simple things were fun” (referring to walking around the streets of Tokyo with Jimin in 2017)

They create their happiness and fun anywhere they are doing anything …..

It’s just the little things….

Little 5 year olds playing after lights out😂

*Jungkook loves making Jimin laugh

This is something we all already knew but seeing it again in AYS was so cute. Jungkook really loves making Jimin laugh and I guess that the fact that Jimin is usually ready to have all his teeth out laughing and any little thing Jungkook does, gives him more motivation. Jungkook doesn’t mind looking like a clown if it means that it will make Jimin laugh. He teases him even sometimes just to get a chuckle out of him.

* Jimin finds Jungkook very endearing

Do I even need to explain this? Sometimes it feels like to Jimin, Jungkook is the cutest, most endearing, funniest person in the world. I don’t think we see Jimin laugh around any other people as much as he laughs around Jungkook. The man is a giggling mess anytime he is around Jungkook and I can’t even blame him because Jungkook sure likes making him laugh. He sometimes gets lost in Jungkook too you know….

*Jikook just get each other

Another thing I noticed again in AYS is how much Jikook just get each other. They don’t need words ti understand how the other feels. Doesn’t matter if they are being silly or serious, they just get what the other person is trying to express.

An example of this would be while they were at the ham and pink sausage restaurant in Jeju, after their little “incident” Jungkook immitated a meme which someone did when he needed an apology and Jimin understood what Jungkook needed immediately just by seeing him immitating that meme, and he apologized.

(First clip from this compilation)

Another moment that showed how much they just get each other was in episode 8 when Jungkook noticed that Jimin felt sad about the trip ending. Jimin didn’t say anything but Jungkook noticed it and starting doing stuff to cheer him on starting from playfully touching his head (even though he knew Jimin didn’t like when his head got touched) and reminding everyone that Jimin doesn’t like it bit he is doing it, to teasing him with the camera in his face infront of the restaurant to opening the windows of the car on their drive to the airport because he knew Jimin had said he goes to cold places when he is is a slump.

Touching his head

Playfully zooming into his face with the camera

Opening the windows to let the cold air in to lift their moods:

We also saw him being soft and reassuring to Jimin after he sensed that Jimin felt bad about the trip ending. What he says here, how he looks at Jimin and how he rubs Jimin’s nape/back trying to comfort him, was so beautiful.

* Jungkook likes zooming into Jimin’s face

Do I even need to explain this part? We’ve seen him do this for years and it was kinda funny to see it again on AYS

*Jimin is Jungkook’s Jungkook!

I don’t even know how to explain this other than saying than showing you this….

Jimin constantly singing Jungkook’s “3D” as “peuriri” and constantly going “standing next to you” every two seconds is so Jungkook of him. Jungkook gets a taste of his own medicine and doesn’t know how to handle it.

*They clearly keep up with each other/ they know each other so well

Contrary to haters beliefs that Jikook don’t keep up with each other outside of content, it is clear that they do. We saw it when Jimin dropped “Face” and we saw it again on AYS with Jimin and singing Jungkook’s song before it was released, Jimin knowing about Jungkook’s schedules, Jungkook knowing about Jimin’s second album release and even seeing the video of Jimin dancing with kids. Infact during the Jeju and Sapporo episodes, it was so obvious to see that those two knew alot about each other’s activities, schedules and plans. You didn’t see them getting surprised after getting information about each other.

To add to this, it was very clear that Jungkook knows what Jimin likes and vice versa. He knew Jimin would like his food spicy, he knew Jimin would enjoy the beef stew he cooked in Jeju. Jimin knew Jungkook would enjoy climbing and racing so he picker that place. Jimin knew Jungkook liked driving abroad, Jimin knew Jungkook had to go to the US to film with Usher etc. No arguments here.

* Jungkook loves to cook for Jimin

We already knew this but this was once again confirmed in AYS.

* The people around Jikook know how much Jikook are around each other.

Over the years, we have heard from members and people around Jikook say just how much time Jikook spend together and we once again got something like that from AYS.

Tae saw Jk do the soju bottle trick and immediately assumed that Jimin taught him. This is something that many people would miss but If Jikook didn’t have a habit of being together alot and drinking together, Tae who actually knows two of them personally wouldn’t have immediately assumed Jimin taught Jk that trick after seeing him do it and the funniest thing is, Jimin said Jk didn’t even learn it from him so why didn’t Tae think of anyone else or even assume that Jk learnt from tiktok or youtube? Why did his mind immediately go to Jimin? Jimin is not the only member or only person connected to Jungkook who drinks Soju. It was interesting getting yet again another confirmation of just how much the members and people around Jikook know about them being together alot.

*Taekook and Jikook are NOT the same.

I’m sure everyone already knows this but watching the Jeju episodes with Vminkook just once again showed how much of a difference there is between Jk bond with Tae and Jimin.

While some jikookers didn’t like the fact that Tae joined Jikook in Jeju, I loved it because I love seeing vminkook together as they are adorable and also because when they are together, you really get to see the difference in their dynamics. It was very noticeable how Tae and Jk bring out the chaos, playfulness and childishness from each other and they have so much fun doing activities together but you could see clearly that those two just don’t gravitate to each other in the same way Jikook do. By gravitating to each other I don’t mean sitting side by sideto have meals and none of that nonsense taekookers consider people gravitating towards each other. What I mean is, even if Jikook are not seated together, it was easy to see how their eyes searched for each other while they talked. While they all discussed, it was easy to see that Jk’s eyes mostly searched for Jimin’s and vice versa, it was easy to see how they mostly talked to and interacted with each other more during meals even though Tae was there. It was easy to see how they usually stayed with each other after their baths and only went to bed together while Tae always went to bed earlier. It was easy to see how when ever they had meals, Jikook would always look to each other to ask “is it good” regardless of whether they were alone or with Tae. They spoke to each other more, interacted more and even when Jk tasted something that seemed familiar to what he had had before, he looked to Jimin to ask if it was what they had at another restaurant at some point.

They understand each other in ways others don’t. They quickly get each other’s jokes while Tae sometimes looked a little lost. They have the same humor infact, you just cannot miss to see the difference when you pay attention. It was as clear as day and night.

It was also clear that unlike Jikook, taekook don’t really feel the need to be around each other much when they aren’t actively doing anything. We all saw how early tae usually went to bed not caring alot to hang around Jk, we saw how much time he spent on his phone even while they all were together, we all saw how even when Jk got out of the pool just after Tae did in episode 5, he didn’t go to shower at the same time Tae did. We Tae leave to shower and go to bed while Jk stayed behind teasing and playing with Jimin before they showered and later went to bed together around 4am. It was the same thing that happened the night before. Jk was clearly thoughtful of Tae and wanted him to feel included but we could see that he didn’t really feel the need being around him much because if he did he probably would have showered and gone to stay upstairs with Tae but he didn’t. He stayed downstairs with Jimin and they only left for bed together while tae was already asleep. This isn’t new as we know Jikook have always loved spending time alone together at nights and in their quiet moments but it was interesting to see unfold in AYS.

Remember all the times members (especially Tae) mentioned Jikook being together alot at nights? Some people said he lied all those times because he was hiding his relationship but we could all see that happen in AYS. It happened on both nights they were there.

While Jikook have this strong gravitational pull and enjoy being around each other’s vicinity at all times and not just when there are fun activities or other things to be done, we could see that this wasn’t the same with taekook. Tae felt like napping, he went upstairs to nap, Jimin felt like napping, he napped in the living room next to Jungkook who was cooking. Over the years, we have tons of moments where Jk could be seen going to sit or sleep by an already sleeping Jimin. They crave each other’s presence even when they aren’t doing anything but this isn’t the same for taekook and AYS confirmed that once again.

*Jikook are so domestic

Watching AYS, it was so easy to see just how domestic Jikook are. We got an opportunity to have a look into what their lives and days look like when they are not busy being idols and it was the most comforting beautiful thing ever. Them waking up and going to cuddle each other, cooking together eating together, going shopping together with Jungkook disappearing and getting on Jimin’s nerves😂, have little discussion’s together, drinking together, watching and reacting to a show of themselves together, making plans to eat, sleep, shower, play etc together, it was just so perfect. Perfectly and positively boring everyday life yet they looked like they had so much fun doing all of that TOGETHER!

*They have the most random conversations and do the weirdest things

Just jimin casually talking about wanting to sculpt his ass and Jungkook listening attentively😂

Whatever this conversation was……

I don’t know what goes on in their minds

Whatever this was

*Jungkook loves Jimin’s attention /loves to tease him to get it

*Jungkook is inlove with FOOD!

He looks at food like true love😂

*Jikook could be sus sometimes or most of the time tbh

Whatever this was…..

I mean….

This taken out of context…..

Hmmmmmm……

*Jikook like to bicker

They bicker sometimes like an old married couple

*Jimin and Jungkook loved their trips with each other!

Do I even need to explain this? I feel like the entire episode 8 explains this pretty well.

Ok, so these are some of my observations about Jikook from AYS. I might be editing this post in the future to add some more observations as I rewatch the entire show to see if I can catch other things I missed. Consider this my review of the show.

#jikook #jungkook #jimin #are you sure #ays #jikook blog #please ignore the typos #too lazy to go over the post to correct mistakes

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skyahri · 15 hours

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And Suddenly |JJK Men X Reader| HC

Characters: Sukuna Ryomen, Gojo Satoru, and Geto Suguru

Summary: They proposition you for a baby.

Warnings: Cult Leader!Geto, Heian Era!Sukuna, Canon Gojo. A little smutty, but nothing specific.

- - - - -

Ryomen Sukuna

Sukuna swears he doesn't play favorites.

He always gives the same response when prompted by Uraume- that he hated everyone equally and that if anything, they were the only person he could tolerate. That specific line of questioning always riled him up, oftentimes making him irrationally angry and defensive.

Despite what he says, everyone on the estate knows he's full of shit. No one else is dumb enough to call him on it out of fear of being brutally murdered, but it's clear he does have a favorite. That fact is only further cemented when he approaches you in the middle of the garden and publicly demands that you give him a child.

"... what?"

"Are you deaf? I need an heir and you're going to give me one. Let's go."

Just like that, you're being slung over his shoulder and carried off. You only manage a peak at Uraume before the door closes, but even they seem surprised by the sudden declaration.

When you finally reach his chambers, he sets you down on his bed and drops his robes to the floor. When you don't move to do the same, he shoots you an impatient look, but you only offer him a confused one back.

"My Lord, I apologize if this is out of line, but what brought this on?"

"I want an heir."

"Yes, but why now? And why me?"

"Are you denying me, woman?"

"No, of course not, My Lord, I'm just- this is all very sudden."

After the initial spark of anger that flashes through him, he does genuinely think about it for a moment. Requesting a baby was quite the ask, and it would be in his best interest to keep you happy. Perhaps he could at the very least answer your questions...

"You are fertile."

"Is that really the only requirement you look for when considering the potential mother of your children?"

"Of course not."

He hates that little look you give him. It's pointed in a way that makes his nerves flair. It's not direct enough for him to ever call you on, but it screams defiance nonetheless.

"I don't have to explain myself to you. You should feel honored to have been chosen. Be grateful, brat."

Your face doesn't change. You only cross your arms and wait for his little tantrum to pass in hopes that he'll be a more willing participant in the conversation.

"What do you want from me?"

"Honesty, My Lord. That's all."

He bares his teeth at you. It's an empty threat- that much you learned long ago. You're well aware of his soft spot for you, and while you typically don't use that against him, you really did just want answers.

In the three years you'd served him, he had never once mentioned wanting children. He'd go as far as to kill any concubine who fell pregnant or even brought the topic up. Something was most definitely amiss, and you weren't one to cave into his ridiculous demands so easily.

After a momentary standoff, he sighs and stands a bit straighter in front of you.

"You are well aware why I have chosen you."

"Am I?"

Oh, if looks could kill you'd be six feet under already. He seems almost... embarrassed? It's not something you've ever seen on him, the red tint to his cheeks and ears are undeniably different from when he's angry. His lower right hand twitches ever so slightly and you can nearly hear his teeth grinding together.

"It is possible, that I may not entirely hate you."

"Careful, My Lord, that almost sounds like a confession."

"If that is what it takes for you to agree, then so be it."

You won't get anything more out of him, at least, not today. You'd been fully expecting him to choose an easy way out, something about biology or hierarchy or whatever, but this? No, this was a thousand times better than anything you could've imagined.

"Now, as to why, My Lord?"

"Is it really so surprising to want a child with you?"

You... don't know how to answer that. His response both does and does not answer your question. You were initially looking for something more, concrete? Something like him needing a successor or maybe needing to prove himself in some way.

Whether he intended to or not, he had given you a very intimate response that you were not in the last bit prepared for.

You were very aware that he treated you differently, not just from the other concubines, but from everyone in general. You had certain privileges that others did not, like joining him for dinners and baths or sleeping in his chambers. He indulges you with little acts of affection, things like kissing and brief touches. You spoke out of turn without consequence and could get away with doing things without his explicit permission.

But all of that was a whole Hell of a lot different than wanting a family. The man would sooner die than admit to liking you, but here he was admitting to wanting children with you. Not wanting an heir, not allowing you the privilege, no- wanting children with you.

"I accept."

"You say that as if you had a choice."

"We're alone, My Lord, there's no need for the tough guy facade."

"It's not a facade. Don't forget I can kill you, woman."

"Mhm, if you say so, My Lord."

Satoru Gojo

"You know,"

He slowly slides his hands up your sides, slipping them underneath the hem of your shirt.

"With the kids being so busy nowadays, I can't help but feel like our nest is a little empty."

He moves his head from its resting position on your head to trail kisses down your face. He pauses at your lips for a moment before continuing down your neck.

"Lucky for us, I know just the thing to fix such a problem."

You're only half paying mind to the attention he's giving you, the majority of your thoughts running over his recent behavior, trying to piece together anything that could've prepared you for the current situation.

He was a little upset when Tsumiki had gone full swing into high school last year. She had lots of friends, joined a few extracurriculars, and took her classes seriously. It didn't leave her much free time for family. You understood, and so did Satoru (albeit reluctantly), but that didn't make it any less bittersweet.

With the new school year starting, Megumi had begun drifting as well, and it didn't help that he was living on campus now. Of course, Satoru was one of his mentors, but that only meant their time together was spent working.

Both kids had always been independent, most likely a side effect of their shitty unconventional upbringing, but it seemed time was only making that fact more apparent.

You'd noticed he'd been a little deflated lately, but you'd chalked it up to extra stress from the council. You never thought it would be over something like this- not that you doubted how much he loved his pseudo-family or anything, he's just never shown any particular interest in expanding at all.

Even now, aside from a few stray comments about missing the kids and prioritizing family dinners, nothing he did really popped out.

"Satoru-"

He pulled away and took your hands in his, bending down a bit to make the height difference less obvious.

"Just hear me out,"

He swallowed hard and squeezed your hands a bit tighter.

"I know it's not something we've really talked about, but I can't stop thinking about it. I love raising kids with you and I don't want it to end."

"Babies and toddlers are a lot different than kids, Satoru."

"I know."

"It's a lot of work. We'd be starting over just as they've become self sufficient."

"I know."

"There's also significant risk associated with having Satoru Gojo's biological baby."

"All the reason to work harder."

Usually, when he wants something, he gives you this sappy, wide eyed, puppy dog stare and tries to bargain wit you. This, however, is starkly different. His gaze is intense, like he's peering straight into your soul, but it's also desperate, like he wants you to say yes but for once in his life, he's not going to pressure you.

Not that he'd have to, honestly.

He's right. You have enjoyed raising kids with him. He's dorky and definitely on the irresponsible side, but he cares for Tsumiki and Megs more than anything else in the world. He'd take them to the park, engage in whatever board games they wanted to play, and always did his best to make it to school events. He's a good dad, and you aren't eager to see the end of the peak quite yet.

The house is also very quiet as of late. There's no bickering, no loud music, and no one pestering you to make snacks. There's no more homework to help out with and no more rides to give. It's rather lonely.

So you put on your best poker face, just to spook him a bit, and focus your gaze on his pretty blue eyes. He looks hopeful. He knows you well enough by now to know you're going to say yes, but that little bit of fear overshadows any certainty he has.

"I think, maybe, possibly, that our family doesn't quite feel complete just yet, and might have room for one more."

That's all the confirmation he needs before he's scooping you up, pressing sloppy kisses against any surface of your skin he can reach, and taking you straight into your shared bedroom.

Suguru Geto

He had truly never thought about the prospect of having kids before. He was seventeen when he took in the twins and life had been pretty hectic since then, not leaving much room for additional personal affairs.

But he couldn't get the girls' words out of his head.

They'd come home from school last week and told him about one of their classmates who had just received a baby brother. He wasn't sure if they knew the scope of what they were asking when they started begging for a little sibling, but it did get him thinking. So he told them he'd consider the idea and sent them off to do their homework.

He wasn't... completely against the idea. He's at a point where he has the means to provide for one more. He loves Nanako and Mimiko more than anything and he's sure he can love another kid all the same, but that wasn't the issue.

It was having another kid that was difficult. He'd essentially kidnapped the twins, and while the deed was justified, he wasn't eager to do it again. Anything formal was off the table, being a mass murderer slash cult leader, and all.

That's when you entered his field of vision. Like an answer to his prayers, you walked past him with a bright smile on your face and a quick 'Good morning Geto-sama' before running off to wherever the girls currently were.

The answer seemed a bit too obvious. You'd joined not too long after he'd taken over, offering support in any way you could. At the time, he was having a hard time adjusting to everything. Raising children was a lot harder than he'd anticipated, mostly due to the trauma they'd endured. You took some of the load off of him. You watched them while he was in meetings, cooked them meals, and made sure they got to and from school when he couldn't.

You're around his age, smart and pretty, and essentially already a mother to his kids. You loved them as much as he did, so surely, you'd be more than happy to help him out with this, right?

"You... want me to give you a baby?"

He wasn't sure what to make of that response. It was ambiguous, and your blank expression didn't lean any one way the other.

"Yes. Nanako and Mimiko would like a sibling, and I've decided to indulge them. Would you be so kind as to help me?"

"I'm not pregnant, Geto-sama."

"I'd hope not."

Your confusion only grew. There was no precursor to this conversation. Just yesterday you were discussing the week's itinerary and what all was expected of you. He hadn't looked at you any differently, hadn't dropped any hints, or asked any strange questions. This was truly out of the blue.

You must've taken too long to continue the conversation because there's suddenly a hand grabbing yours. It's warm and rough, and despite the newness of it, it's grounding.

"Please don't feel pressured to say yes. I'd like an honest answer. This will only work if both parties are consenting."

You hesitate for a moment. It's not like you haven't thought about it before. Not this specifically, but being more of a permanent fixture in Geto household. It's usually a fleeting feeling, a fantasy of sorts. You'd never allowed yourself to mull over it, assuming that it was a lost cause.

"Why me?"

A perfectly reasonable question.

"You're already a mother to my children, what's one more, hm?"

"And this baby..."

"Would be ours, if you're willing if course."

Suguru is actually pleased by your hesitation. A fair number of his followers would jump at the invitation without much thought. He finds it rather pathetic that some would follow him so blindly, so your reluctance only further cements his confidence in his decision.

"And what would all of this mean for me?"

"I suppose you'd be a wife of sorts. 'Nanny' seems a little degrading for someone bearing my child."

He laughs and it immediately cuts through any tension in the air.

While the offer is certainly jarring, denying it had yet to cross your mind. Geto is a harsh leader, sure, but he's incredibly kind to those close to him, and that extends to you. He's a great dad and loves his children, and you're sure any baby of yours would meet the same fate.

"Yeah, okay."

"Good. Why don't you meet me in my quarters after you put the girls to bed."

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m3l0nfl0at · 1 day

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the greatest - s. gojo

gojo satoru x gn!reader ; gege give me that mf pen, ANGST ANGST, spoilers for the manga, mention of death, no y/n used, and reader is a little bit rude to shoko at first, 2.6k words

summary ; i wanted to write a more fulfilling ending for gojo because i feel he deserved it and gege i will never forgive you

melon’s recommended melody ; my love mine all mine - mitski

Waking up, hearing the chirps of life outside your window telling you it was a new day. Brushing the spot in bed next to you, only for it to feel empty and cold. Feeling the spot next to you became a habit that was hard to break. Getting up to brush your teeth, seeing the other toothbrush occupying the slot beside yours. Washing your face and feeling the chilly water hit your face. Heading to your living room, ironically it didn’t feel like it was lived in much. Opening the fridge not expecting much because you haven’t been to the groceries in, who knows how long? Sighing, not feeling hungry but knowing it wasn’t smart to leave yourself unsatiated. You go to the pantry seeing all kinds of sweets left untouched, you reach out to touch them but not grabbing one.

Feeling yourself tear up, you never had a sweet tooth and now thinking of something sweet made you sick to your stomach. How can you want something sweet when everything around you feels bitter? You felt nothing, saw no potential, you can’t even recall the last time you left the house. No drop of color, the world that was once made up of red and blue became black and white. You close the pantry wanting nothing more than retreat back to your bed for the rest of the day. Grabbing a glass from the cupboard, pouring yourself some water. Drinking it, feeling the burn from the coldness hitting your dry scratchy throat.

Placing it down in the sink filled with glassware, not worrying too much about the piling dishes. Heading to the door, cracking it open just a bit to feel the sun heat up your freezing house. Stepping out to sit down on the porch stairs, hugging your knees. Looking around at your yard, glaring at reminders of what used to be. Your vegetable garden withered, planting those to joke around with Satoru. Reprimanding him, saying just because he was the strongest doesn’t mean he could eat nothing but sweets. You look at your flowers, specifically forget me nots, lining the house now lifeless and devoid of any color.

You march to the flowers angrily picking them up and stomping on the remaining garden. How dare they die, didn’t they know you were going through enough already? It’s not your fault that you couldn’t stop them from growing, it’s not your fault you had to wake up everyday to make sure they lived. It was selfish, it’s not like you wake up and someone makes sure that you’re alive. In fact no one reached out to you anymore, not Shoko, not Iljichi, and certainly not Utahime. You didn’t expect them to but for them to not even acknowledge Satoru’s body or death? To not even let you have a funeral for him.

You wonder if anyone even cared for him beyond his title, you knew Geto did. No one else cared for Gojo the way you and Suguru did. You don’t blame them for not checking up on you, Shoko hated confrontation, Iljichi was always scared of Gojo, and Utahime hated Gojo with her whole being. Part of you wanted to think he was finally at peace with his best friend. Knowing they were together brought you some sort of peace in this meaningless world. Another part of you wanted to scream, were you not enough for him to stay here. Were you not enough for him to win the fight and come back home to you.

Going back inside looking back at the mess you created in your front yard. The mess representing the muck that was going on in your head, ever since that day. That stupid day he went to battle the “King of Curses”, only for him to lose. Satoru was not the humblest person, you always told him that would be his downfall. Of course you thought Gojo was the strongest but your Satoru was still a vulnerable human. Slamming the door, attempting to run to your room. Only to trip on shoes at the front door, looking behind you to see Satoru’s loafers. The ones he would wear to teach, he loved teaching so much.

He wanted to be everything he hadn’t received as a student. Knowing that his teachers never really considered him to be a kid more like a mere prize. A prize saying I taught the strongest sorcerer and nothing more. His students and him were close but at the end of the day he was just their teacher, nothing more. Yuji and Yuta tried reaching out to you, coming to your house to knock only to be met with nothing. Yuji and Yuta admired Gojo, they knew what it meant to be the strongest. How being the strongest came with all kinds of burdens to bear or how being the strongest meant having people admire and hate you.

You feel your breathing getting heavy, you were never the strongest. You were known to always break down, being the crybaby of your family but you couldn’t help it. Yet, you haven’t cried since Satoru’s death was officially announced. You suddenly had no ounce of tears left in you, opting to just shut everyone out instead. Crying was stupid anyway, why would you cry? Crying wouldn’t bring him back, crying and screaming at the top of your lungs wouldn’t stop him.

Part of you wondered if he knew he was going to die, if he knew that he was going to lose against Mahoraga. Or better yet lose to Megumi, you knew Satoru didn’t have it in him to kill one of his students. If he couldn’t separate the two souls then that only left one option. However, the past can’t be dwelled on too much because it can never change, you slam your fists on the ground in agony. Feeling your ankle hurting but also feeling everything you had in you hurting too. Wanting nothing more than someone to pick you up off the ground, that someone being Satoru. Damn you Satoru, even in death he had an eerie way of sneaking back into your life.

It’s not like you wanted to forget about him, he was your entire life. You stayed awake some nights reminiscing on the future you both had planned, looking forward to getting married.

“You think when were married you’ll still have that dingy blindfold on?”, you laugh, messing with his hair. Satoru places a hand on his chest, gasping dramatically. “One, it’s not dingy. Second, obviously not. I’d probably choose something more stylish like sunglasses or maybe a tinted monocle.”, you groan in disgust. “You will absolutely not wear a monocle at our wedding. You’ll look like the monopoly man.”

You lay on the ground, soaking in the feeling of the pain from your ankle. Hearing a knock at your door, choosing to stay quiet not wanting anyone to see you in this state. “I know you’re in there you know, your garden wasn’t this ugly when I stopped by yesterday.”, you wince trying to pick yourself up. Funny how she chooses right now to finally show up, “Leave Shoko. I don’t need anything.”. She sighs knowing grief probably made you bitter, “Then why are you wincing? Open the door so I can fix whatever mess you got yourself in.”

“It’s open, let yourself in Leir.”, you lay against a wall preparing to let someone see you at your worst. “What happened?”, her clothes and breath smells like cigarettes, you wondered what got her back into the habit. “What didn’t happen, is what you should be asking.”, you roll your eyes. Shoko looks at your ankle, checking if it’s anything serious, chalking it up to only being a sprain. “I came because I have something to give you.”, you look over to her shaking your head. You didn’t think you could handle anything more than what you have on your mind right now. She hesitates, not wanting to upset you but also wanting to get everything off her mind. “I cleaned up his body. If you want to do a proper burial for him. Or if you just want to see him one last time, give you some closure you need.”, she hears your breath falter.

Knowing she’s pushing her limits, “Why would I host a burial when no one cared for him like I did.”, you angrily glare at her. You feel your breath quicken, it starts picking up as your thoughts become more rampant. She stays silent, feeling that if you have to spew your anger at anyone, she’ll let it be her. You look at your now swollen ankle, your messy house that no longer felt like a home, and messy kitchen. Wondering when this all happened, why did you let it get this bad?

Shoko hands you a letter, “I know you’re frustrated and even bitter with what Gojo’s decision was but he never stopped thinking about you even in his last moments. I know I've been an absentee friend but I cleaned him up because that was the only thing I could do. Send him to the afterlife being the Gojo you and I both knew.”, you feel all the pressure and pain that festered in you slowly crack. Knowing that even though you were painting everyone as the villain, the only true villain was fate and time.

Your lip quivers, apologizing to everyone in your head knowing they’re all suffering in their own way. You lift up the note, opening it up to see a messily drawn Satoru in the corner. Everything that’s been withheld these past couple of months finally breaks, looking to the top seeing the words “my love” printed. Taking a deep breath before proceeding. “Don’t be so hard on yourself. There’s nothing you could’ve done to stop me from trying to defeat that cocky old bastard.”, you roll your eyes knowing how he hated Sukuna but still decided to fight him. “I sent my best students and Shoko to come check on you, can’t have you losing yourself over me, right?”, you choke on your own tears.

You stop reading halfway, scared to continue. Scared that if you continue, you’ll lose the last thing that has Satoru’s last traces on it. Shoko sits by you letting you rest your head on her shoulder. “He wanted you to read it. He gave one to Megumi and Nobara too, keep going for him.” Nodding, pacing your breaths scared you’ll start hyperventilating, “I know it’ll be lonely without my overbearing personality but I’m not gone. I’ll be watching over you or looking up at you, whichever you prefer.”, you laugh through the tears as you feel your bittersweet smile slowly appears on your face. “I know I left before I could fulfill my promise about our future but the ring I wanted to use is in my drawer hidden under my blindfolds. I knew you wouldn’t look there since they’re so dingy, right?”, your tears fall as you get up slowly.

Shoko gets up, reaching out to help you, as you start limping towards your room. Opening the dresser, scavenging for a box, looking in the corner to see a velvet box. Sobbing violently as you open it, seeing G.S. engraved into the inside of the band. Slipping it on before reading the rest of the note. “Living will feel harder with me gone because I know I would feel empty if I had to live without you. I want you to live, live and never forget me. You’ll surpass me in time and age but I'll be waiting for you no matter what, It’s not your time yet. When we meet again I will just be Satoru, not the strongest but only your Satoru. Make me proud, my love, till we meet again. P.S. Nows a good time to tell you, I finished all your chips, whoopsies!”. “I knew it.”, you laugh while crying. Shoko watches you feel the writing on the paper as if it was him.

Gently caressing the last thing he touched, the last words he engraved just for you to feel at ease. You lay against the bed, feeling everything within you give out, he’s actually gone. Shoko pats your back, letting you know she’s here. Even though she knows you only want Gojo right now, no one else even existed within this moment. People thought Satoru was selfish only caring about himself, when in reality he spent even his last moments scraping up letters to put others at ease with his decision, that was your Satoru.

“Will you show me him, one last time, please.” You look over at Shoko pleading. She nods, “I have to take you there to heal your ankle anyways”. You get up to get in her car to make it back to Jujutsu High. Fiddling with your ring the whole way there. Asking to see him on impulse, not even thinking about your appearance. Not really caring anyways, who do you have to impress? Shoko helps you out of the car, being cautious of your ankle.

She first treats your ankle, you slowly catch your breath. Anticipating seeing Satoru for the last time. Shoko guides you, “I cleaned him to the best of my ability. The stitches are kind of gruesome but it was a last minute call to action.”, you trace his face. Seeing the scar from his forehead, disgusted that the last resort was using Satoru as a weapon. You see your tears fall onto him, wiping them away. Shoko excuses herself, letting you have your last moments with him. “Satoru, you’re not in pain anymore, right?”, naively waiting for his answer. “You look so handsome my love, even in your last moments.”, crouching down to grab his hand. “I’ll never forget you as long as I live, Satoru Gojo.”, you kiss his cheek, feeling his cold skin on your lips.

“I’m so mad at you. I wish you could come back to life for just five minutes so I could reprimand you one final time.”, silence hanging in the air as you take in his appearance. Combing your fingers through his hair, “Damn it Satoru, why couldn’t you be selfish just this one time.” Even though he was in front of you lifeless like your flowers, a part of him still felt so alive. His love for you never died, not even beyond death, that was all you needed to live on. You let go of his hand, walking towards the door. Leaving the room, looking back at him one last time, “I love you Satoru, that’ll never change.”.

Even though living without Satoru was difficult, you felt him all around you. Going outside to water your beautiful garden varying with blue and white flowers. Going shopping and getting something sweet to commemorate his unbeatable sweet tooth. Teaching at Jujutsu High, to continue his legacy. Visiting his gravestone to tell him about your day, buying a meal for you and him. The pain never went away but you found comfort in it. His belongings were still placed in your home, never having the heart to put them away. You leave a spot open in your bed for him, touching his pillows softly before sleeping. Putting his shoes away neatly and even polishing them. Getting his mug to place it right next to yours in the morning, feeling comforted by the traces of himself he left behind. He was gone but he’s still existed within you, within his students, and within his legacy. He was loved and he would never be forgotten.

divider credit to @/vase-of-lilies, @/bunnysrph, and @/thecutestgrotto

˚ ༘ ೀ⋆｡˚ melon's marginalia : honestly i needed to write this because i have to write fluff and i felt very devastated in leaks today. gege i will never forgive you for taking such a beloved character and dragging his name

#gojo x reader #gojo angst #gojo satoru x reader #gojo #gojo satoru #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk x reader #anime x reader #gojo x you #gojo jjk #jujutsu kaisen #jjk #jjk angst

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queenoftheimps · 2 days

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Artistic Expression as a Form of Love: aka Some Meta About Interview with the Vampire

hey guess who spent all of today putting off a really boring work task

So I'm just suddenly just having a lot of feelings about how love is tied to creation in Interview with the Vampire.

Specifically, each character's artistic impulses and what they say about their relationships, and how they use their creative output as a sort of love language.

From the very first episode, we see hints of this. Miss Lilly asks about Lestat's music box, which plays a song he wrote for Nicholas once upon a time, evidence of his love for someone who's been dead for over a century.

He later writes his own song for Louis, 'Come to Me', and Claudia makes the connection explicit while deliberately poking at him -- he wrote a song for each of his true loves, but does one signal love more strongly than the other?

She's being facetious to prod at him, but the show seems to genuinely make the point that we can track each characters' relationships through the art we see them create.

After all, we see it with Claudia herself later -- even before there's any discussion of becoming companions, we can feel Madeleine's compatibility with Claudia in the way she makes dresses for her.

Madeleine dresses Claudia as the grown woman she wants to be seen as, as she really is, even before she fully understands the circumstances of Claudia's age. It's telling that in Madeleine's dying vision, the one that convinces Louis of her love for Claudia, that Claudia is wearing a dress that Madeleine made for her.

By contrast, we see how Claudia is incompatible with the coven in the role that they have quite literally written for her. If Madeleine shows her love by treating Claudia as an adult, the coven shows their lack of caring by creating artwork where Claudia is forced into playing a part that diminishes her.

In turn, we can see Claudia's enthusiasm for the coven tied into her willingness to perform -- she starts off trying to smile her way through the situation, before quickly growing tired of the performance (and, relatedly, the coven itself).

But then again, how does the coven show its real loyalties? Well, with a painting.

We don't know who painted Lestat (Armand, possibly?), but having artwork of him in a place of prominence is pretty telling. But then again, the theater's creation is itself a reflection of art as a signifier of love & bonding -- Lestat suggests a theater to a lonely Armand as a way to regain a family/coven structure, after the last one fell apart.

Which makes particular sense for Armand, the character who most explicitly equates artistic expression with love and understanding. We see him underline it in his own telling of his backstory -- "No one has painted me in over 400 years." He associates painting with being seen and cared for by his maker --

-- and yet we, the audience, can plainly see what a warped, toxic relationship it was from the painting itself : a whitewashed version of Armand's face that doesn't truly look like him.

Hell, we even see Armand's betrayal of Louis in the form of creative expression -- to quote Daniel, "He directed the play!"

His treason isn't just that he sold Louis & Claudia out, it's that he participated in a creation that would condemn them. Artistic expression shows us love and loyalty in this world, yes, but it can also be used as a tool of abuse or betrayal.

Which brings us to Louis, he who has the eye for art but maybe not the skill for it, who never said 'I love you' to Lestat and wouldn't call Armand his companion, who ultimately gives up on creation in favor of becoming a collector.

It's especially interesting that his abandonment of photography is also explicitly tied to the end of his visions of Dreamstat. Even the one photo he takes that garners praise is one he tries taking of Armand & Dreamstat at the same time -- as if the closest he can get to expressing love through creation is something that blurs the lines between both men he has complicated feelings for. (Note that the scene where he develops the photo is directly after the "Show me the only way you know how to love" sequence of Louis bashing some guy's head into a wall.)

Hell, if we want to take it even further, we can even see some of this pretense in the inclusion of the Fred Stein photos (assuming Armand actually did sneak them in). On one level, we can see it as Armand trying to build up Louis' happiness, but on the other, it's him trying to build up the image of their romance.

After all, if artistic creation is a sign of love -- especially to Armand! -- what does it mean if Louis is openly disparaging his own abilities to make anything at all?

Taking it further, what does it say that he and Armand have a collection of photos of various boys over the years and expensive artwork hanging on every wall, but Louis doesn't seem to have taken any pictures of Armand in almost eighty years?

And hey, speaking of fascinating boys: what does it mean when Louis hasn't made anything creative of Armand since the 1940s, but he has no problem writing a book for ten hours with some guy he picked up at the bar?

Hell, writing a book where Louis spends ten hours talking about his life and hasn't even gotten up to the part with Armand yet? The supposed love of his life doesn't even garner a mention, to the point where Daniel didn't even know he existed when he arrives fifty years later.

And what does it mean when that book you never wrote is a giant hanging thread in your life, enough to create a connection strong enough that you remember that guy fifty years later and go back to that writing it? Even over the objections of the love of your life?

Especially when find out that Daniel's entire writing career is sparked in part by inspirational words given to him by Louis -- a sign of their bond withstanding the test of time, enough to make them friends after a fifty year absence.

That said, if we're working with the idea of artistic expression as proof of connection -- especially when it comes to Armand -- then it also makes perfect sense why Armand would insert himself into the interview once he's been revealed.

Then it's no longer about Louis & Daniel, or Louis & Lestat, it's about Louis & Armand and artistic proof of their connection! They're both now creating a story, a book that will include their entire romance! It's the first time that Armand has had the possibility of being an artistic subject in decades, so no wonder he's quick to latch onto it.

Even then, though: I think it's interesting that when Armand is talking to Daniel alone, the first story he thinks to tell him about is his relationship with Lestat. Make of that what you will.

(Also, I've said this before, but I am very curious what Armand's feelings towards Daniel will be after having an entire book written in which he plays a starring role.)

I think that this is all very rich with subtext and possible further progression, especially since we are about to enter a season where a new book is being written by Daniel and there's going to be an entire tour's worth of music being performed, all of it ripe with potential for further relationship nuance.

And while I don't want to wander too far into book spoiler territory, I think this might even neatly factor into a potential Season 4 -- especially since book fans will know that a specific musical performance is the catalyst for a lot of what happens in The Queen of the Damned.

#interview with the vampire #iwtv #loustat #claudeleine #lesmand #armandaniel #devil's minion #lestat de lioncourt #louis de pointe du lac #claudia de lioncourt #claudia de pointe du lac #madeleine eparvier #daniel molloy #i wrote this when i was supposed to be filling in a spreadsheet

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pureastrologywisdom · 1 day

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𝔜𝔬𝔲𝔯 𝔫𝔞𝔱𝔞𝔩 𝔠𝔥𝔞𝔯𝔱 𝔞𝔫𝔡 𝔶𝔬𝔲𝔯 𝔭𝔢𝔯𝔰𝔬𝔫𝔞𝔩 𝔰𝔱𝔶𝔩𝔢

When trying to develop your style your natal chart can be a perfect aid in exploring what things will work for you. With fashion an important factor is matching your style with your essence. You want to wear what feels like you.

Alongside this being able to project or showcase different sides of yourself and aspects of your personality you want to play up. Embodying different signs in your chart is a really fun thing to do. See how you feel when you emulate the energy of each sign. Its fascinating to see how you interact with the world and how it interacts with you.

There are a few different areas you want to look at here - depending on certain factors which I will discuss later:

Your rising sign

Your Venus sign

Your Moon sign

Your Mars sign

Your MC

Your 5th house

Your dominant planet

Your Rising sign is how you come across to people, working with this helps give a natural element to your fashion sense/ look, it’s things you look effortless in. Leaning in to your rising sign can really help boost your confidence and make you feel more authentic.

Your Venus sign is what attracts people to you. Wearing things that embody your `Venus sign will make you feel more magnetic and attractive. It is what you want to wear when you want to feel beautiful. And it will draw people into you. Perfect for a date night.

Your Moon sign is an interesting one to incorporate into your fashion sense. Personally when I wear things that reflect my moon sign I feel very comfortable in my own skin. I also feel very feminine. Something about it really brings harmony to my wardrobe. That is the best way I can explain it for now.

Your Mars sign is for when you want to feel sexy. Wearing things that emulate your mars sign will give you an aura of confidence, making you feel more bold. People will find it hard not to notice you. This is good for a night out, a more spicy date night, and comes in handy when picking out lingerie especially. Wear things from your mars sign when you want to feel powerful.

Alongside this, if you want to be noticed, try wasting something that correlates to your Midheaven if you want all eyes on you. Its a good way to stand out. This is good for a job interview also.

Your Fifth house is something I don’t see a lot of people mention when it comes to this topic. But I feel it is very Important, your fifth house rules over creativity after all. And after all, fashion is all about being creative.

Looking at your dominant planet can also help you see what energy you naturally give off, that was you can dress to enhance that energy.

I like to be able to know the typical styles, colours, fabrics, patterns, silhouettes and things associated to each of my signs so `i can play about with it and find a balance in my wardrobe. Being able to mix and match different things to emphasise different elements of myself.

Alongside this I am releasing individual reports based on the ‘essence’ of each sign. That way you can find it easier to see a mood-board and examples of the expression of each of your signs that you wish to enhance and understand more in your chart.

It includes fashion tips, beauty recommendation and things to give you a a specific vibe for each sign.

If you are interested dm me on here before you email me, as `i wont see it otherwise.

The price of an Individual one is 15 pounds, there is a bundle deal of 40 pounds for three

I have made these from scratch for you guys and this mixes two of my passions together with this project so I really hope you enjoy.

If you are looking for any other reading message me on here also, and I will get back to you. I have five spaces available from now until the end of October, so i can give each of my clients a good amount of time

Thank you for reading

Pureastrowisdom xx

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parkersgnome · 3 days

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⭐️Mima Rants⭐️

I remember coming across slideshow on tik tok this about a year ago, and even *I* (as someone who used to be grossed out by proshipping) thought was ridiculous…

This is the title of the slideshow.

Just a heads up guys, just like our favorite ships, None of these stories are real.

And if they were based on actual events, wouldn’t it make more sense to make a video about that instead of making up shit that never happened?

But, Let’s go through each of these as if they were real stories, shall we?

First one

“Caleb uses the internet to deal with his trauma”, Alright, I’m gonna stop you right there.

Isn’t “Staying off the internet is beneficial for your mental health” something we learned in, idk, fucking grade school? Cyber safety PSAs in middle school? Something that dozens of people have screeched from the top of their lungs since social media was invented?

Who the heck told him that being on the internet was going to help with his trauma and improve his mental health???

His feelings are valid, I get that. He has every right to be disturbed by Sage’s writings and fantasies. However, it seems that Sage isn't encouraging these actions in real life and keeps them strictly within fiction. As long as it’s in text or art, Sage has every right to express his fantasies.

Anyways, Caleb should seek a better therapist who can teach him better coping mechanisms like going out for walks, yoga, baking, or some other fourth thing instead of browsing social media where there’s a good chance he can run into something that makes him uncomfortable.

Next one…

“Jackie is 10-”

Yeah no no no no no no.. no… NO.

10-years-old. That’s, like, what? 4th grade? Shouldn’t Jackie be watching cartoons, playing with toys, or better yet, playing outside? Why did her parents give her internet access? Why aren’t they monitoring what their elementary schooled daughter is watching online?

If Charlie was going out of her way to promote this to minors then I would say she’s in the wrong, but this story never implies whether her content was specifically targeted to and/or letting minors come on to her account.

I've never seen proshippers create accounts specifically targeting children. If Charlie makes it clear her content isn't for kids, then it's not her fault if some random little girl she doesn’t know ends up consuming it.

If Jackie thought this was normal and ended up being groomed/assaulted by her brother, then it is her parent’s fault for neglecting her online safety and allowing her to access adult-targeted content at an age when media literacy is at an all time low.

The last one

“dEGenErates LiKE hiM 🤓” 💀💀

Once again, unless you can present to me a REAL LIFE incest/pedophilia case where proshipping was involved, this is not a valid argument that fiction affects reality.

Alas, we're treating these stories as if they were real. If Trey feels compelled to SA his sister after seeing writings or drawings of problematic ships, this suggests he’s likely an untreated mentally ill individual, especially since he can't differentiate fiction from reality.

What? If Trey played GTA V and started shooting and robbing a bank because he wanted to be like Trevor Phillips, should we consider banning violent video games?

As proshippers, we do not endorse real-life criminals and genuinely terrible people. The essence of proshipping is that all negative or degenerate actions should be confined to fiction. Understand?

End of discussion.

Anyway, as ridiculous as that slideshow was, please refrain from harassing or bothering the artist who made it. They have the same freedom of speech we do, and stooping to harassment and bullying wouldn't make us any better than antis who promote such behavior.

#pro ship #pro shipping #pro ship safe #proship interact #proship #proshipper #proshipper safe #proshippers are valid #proshippers please interact #rant #antis are stupid #antis are idiots #antis are weird #mima’s stuff #Mima.txt #Mili.txt

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thr0wnawayy · 3 days

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Rei-Demption: A problem and my solution (ft. Rei's trauma and Hori's bullshit)

Might as well give my shot at it.

My take on Rei's personality has always been based in suppression.

Rei's whole life has been a balancing act of doing enough to protect her family, while still staying within the lines to not get disposed of.

She's everything Enji isn't. An iron will, a golden heart and a strong sense of empathy.

So with that in mind, hopefully it she'd light on it thought process with this post

A theory I have is that Rei was aware of the hospital's corruption

These panels always felt off too me, it always made me wonder: "does she know?"

The wording is very specific.

"I told him I liked it, around the first time we met. But only once"

It always struck me as odd, We're talking about the man who looked at his eldest death and kept going, man who destroyed multiple lives for a redundant pipedream.

It's not even why would he remember such a small detail, but rather how?

Unless... the doctors are feeding him information.

Think about it, who pays for all this. Surely it's not Fuyumi, on account of this being a massive money sink.

You really expect her to pay for all that on a teachers salary?

It can't be Natsuo because Enji has likely cut him off from everything to his name.

And that's assuming Enji even bothered to save up a college fund for any of them. Plus Natsuo is a full time student of medicine.

If the doctors are watching her every move, looking for any sign of deviation from the narrative then it makes sense for her to disguise her words.

Of course there's still more

Having PTSD isn't something you can keep someone institutionalized for. Especially when Rei's is very proportionate, given what she's gone through. (No, Japan's stigma of mental health wouldn't justify this)

I mean what are Rei's triggers?: Enji and that's about it.

"But we still... haven't met face to face, I'm still too afraid"

That's a standard reaction to have to your abuser (especially when he raped you multiple times)

('Just stop' gets a whole lot darker when you consider it's context)

Not to mention she's no longer fearful of anything resembling Enji, just Enji himself. So there is no real reason to keep her there unless they are afraid she might speak out.

This whole thing makes me think she's trying to tell Natsuo and Fuyumi what's really going on, in a way.

Subtly and under the calm, complacent mask she's expected to wear, in case anyone else is listening. Anyone who could report back to him.

It might also be she doesn't trust them. Fuyumi or Natsuo could blab or say something within earshot that could set Rei back months.

And she can't have that, not with how close she is to finally breaking free. She loves her children, all of them but the trust just isn't there, how can it be when when they don't have all the pieces.

So here's my theory: The hospital staff are in Enji's pockets. Either taking bribes (as recent as Dabi's Dance) or they were given a large sum of hush money when Rei was first hospitalized, with the goal of keeping her there as long as possible and possibly molding her to either keep her mouth shut or (sickeningly) gaslight her into returning to Enji.

(Note how she was only released when they could no longer keep a lid on things, the moment Dabi frops the bomb. She's out, no struggle)

This paints a picture of grotesque corruption, sloth and apathy (the very same cocktail that created Shigaraki) even by Hori's narrative standards. Shedding light on just how deep MHA's despotic nature goes.

The anime makes this even more apparent. Rei's fake smiles make the whole thing that much more viable. She seems so dead, it's like she smothered her soul or something.

I've seen both the sub and dub of this scene. The sub is the correct translation, the same as the Manga panel above.

The Dub however, while severly off mark, adds it's own flavour of dread. Rei sound so hollow, it was jarring the first time I heard it.

It sounded like she was reading a script (in-universe). Like she'd rehearsed this in her mind a million times, staring at the same 3 white walls + the window and waiting for an opening to finally speak.

That was supposed to be Shoto, until the dorms ruined that. Suddenly Rei's lifeline is gone, reduced to letters that don't even tell half the story.

10 years, 10 fucking years reduced to lines on a page.

Can you imagine the despair, dear reader?

The frustration. The sheer vitriol coursing thorough her veins, far hotter than Touya could ever manage.

Having to do the same thing she's been doing even before she was locked away. As the the skeleton in the closet of a criminal with a license.

Wearing masks for so long you can hardly breath and in the brief moments you can take them off. You can hardly recognize yourself, how you once were.

It must be the truest form of hell.

The Rei-demption Arc

Rei's redemption arc takes the attention of our theoretical arc without overtaking it.

The arc would mostly focus on the more domestic aspects of our trio being: Midoriya, Shoto and Uraraka.

A few minor changes would occur. The dorms never happen, allowing the characters to exist outside of UA.

There is solid confirmation that Fujiya is corrupt and is keeping Rei institutionalized on illegal grounds (ie: not meeting the criteria set up to ensure her silence)

The dinner scene would still happen only it would bd framed for what it really was. A pathetic attempt at creating a moment that never existed.

There's no family with Enji.

Just a family held hostage and a tyrant. I have my own grievances with Fuyumi, but I'll leave that for the future.

The only difference besides Natsuo being properly portrayed as a victim acting well within his right, the reasons for our trio going would be for Shoto's emotional wellbeing, because he asked them to.

Uraraka could have a moment where she realizes that money is as much as good as it is bad. An actually decent shift into her change of goals.

Here Enji motivates her to "watch the watchmen". Her need for money is still a crucial part of her reasons for becoming a hero, but she also has a more front and center goal.

I'd imagine she has a moment parallel to Midoriya's during the Sports Festival.

Where (alone in front of the Dojo after the failed dinner) she rightfully calls out Enji for being a self pitying piece of shit and that "sorry" doesn't cut it.

"You've hurt them in ways you can't imagine." Would probably be the last thing she says before walking away.

She may not know the whole story but she knows it hurt them and that's enough.

Rei's ascent

Rei's biggest hurdle is accepting that she was also an abuse victim. She's furious but she's only furious on her children's behalf and what they lost.

Her unintentionally harmful actions weigh on her, be it her neglect or the night she scalded Shoto, these events have impacted her deeply.

She learns to reconcile with her past, improve her relationship with Shoto and even meets Shoto's friends at one point.

Eventually she finds closure but that's later on.

She also acts as an advisor at times, having given Shoto the idea of using Ice projectiles (as seen in the Licensing Exam)

The second half comes from the Hospitals corruption, as Rei learns that she is long overdue for release (by about 8 years) among other horrific practices. This would play out as the arc's B plot, building up to what I call "The Summit"

The Summit

Eventually Rei fights Hood.

After gathering the evidence, she escapes the hospital. Planning to go to Natsuo for protection. As she's walking across a crosswalk however, she hears what sounds like an explosion.

Eventually she hears screaming and is forced to use her quirk as a bus is suddenly sent hurdling in her general direction.

As of her body moved on its own, she envelops it in her ice. Stopping the bus and saving those behind her in the process.

Only to see Hood land on top. They lock eyes and Rei can't help but see Touya in Hoods ambition.

In response to Rei holding her ground, Hood dashes. Rei counters this by manipulating her ice to send him crashing into an empty building, impaling him on the glaciers end.

Hood is impressed by Rei's proficiency and chooses to fight her.

Rei having no experience, fights for her life. Where as Rei avoids Civilians, Hood has no care for them which forces Rei to play the role of hero.

Rei uses every weapon in her arsenal in order to stave off Hood, who only gets more relentless as the battle stretches on. The upside is Hood's regeneration struggles in the cold, which Rei is constantly producing.

Each side gets blows in, with Rei taking them surprisingly well but still being worse for wear. Hood notes this saying "as if y-you've done t-t-this before" (close, Hood very close)

Eventually Hood gets the upper hand, towering over Rei in a manner that triggers her PTSD and leaves her stunned.

One of the civilians (Horoshi Tameda) emboldened by Rei's efforts, picks up a loose chunk of pavement and chucks it at Hood's back. It hits, causing Hood to look back.

Civilians begin making loud noise, others begin picking up anything they can find and throw it at Hood. Further catching him off guard long enough for Rei to snap out of her episode and strike back.

From here the fight kicks into high gear, with Rescue heroes & paramedics arriving on the scene and a camera crew recording the fight from above. Overall I imagine the scene to be very uplifting, with the Orchestra swelling as Rei prepares a final attack.

The move rivals that of Shoto's, arguably even surpassing it. Hoof is incased in a prison of Ice, covering an entire city block worth of destroyed buildings. And the fight finishes with Rei collapsing to her knees.

From here on out things change. Rei's newfound fame leads to the hospital being forced to do their job. Because of this Rei gets out early (around the time the Internship arc would started had I not scrapped it)

As for what this could lead to I'll let you decide. I'd love to read some suggestions.

Bonuses:

Theories:

The reason they kicked Fuyumi from her job is because she covered an abuser's ass for years. While Fuyumi is a victim, it doesn't excuse her complacency in regards to Enji's treatment of Shoto before and after his "self pity" arc.

Natsuo didnt go to someone because he wouldn't likely be believed, being seen as bitter and untrustworthy (his time away from home wouldn't help with pinning evidence).

Extra:

Hood survived the fight, Rei opted to capture him as opposed to kill him. That doesn't mean he didn't get frost bite. Police found out it is very difficult to question a Nomu.

Out of all her trauma. Rei accepting she was never given a choice will be the hardest to accept.

Rei's family is not inbred, rather her parents ran away so her father wouldn't be forced into a marriage with his cousin. Only to ironically do the very same to their daughter.

Hiroshi still becomes a meme, his 'Can't you see speech' leads to him becoming a motivational speaker.

The reason Hood appeared is because Dabi lost track of him. He nearly had a heart attack when he discovered his mom was holding the Nomu off.

#bnha critical #mha ewe #mha rewrite #anti enji todoroki #anti endeavor #anti bakugo katsuki #anti kohei horikoshi #bnha rewrite #mha critical #justice for rei himura #the nomu deserved better #destro didn't kill himself

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milk5 · 3 days

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Barbuta and Mooncat are really stand-out entries on UFO 50; both are fun games in their own right, but I feel that they shine more as digital gallery pieces.

Barbuta, for instance, superficially appears to be a joke game. The controls are sluggish, the visuals are unstimulating, the audio is nearly nonexistent, and the difficulty feels downright hostile at first. It's offensive to modern game design sensibilities at almost every stop.

It's easy to see these qualities, "get the joke", and move on. However, if you instead decide to stick it out and give Barbuta an honest try, something unexpected will happen; you get immersed in the puzzles and exploration. You stop thinking about the "bad" qualities as you become more occupied with earnestly trying to solve the game.

This happens because Barbuta is, under the hood, not actually a bad game. The Mossmouth team is highly adept in game design, knowing which qualities differentiate an unorthodox game from a truly bad game. Unlike the early platforming-adventure games that it takes inspiration from, Barbuta's controls are far more solid than the player's initial assessment. They're slow and quite short, sure, but jumps are actually stunningly consistent; there was never a jump that was both intended to be possible and too difficult to (reasonably) achieve on the first try. The puzzles were difficult enough to evoke plenty of thought, while completely rational and able to be solved intuitively. The only trap that earnestly felt unreasonable to catch on the first go-around is on the first screen. If you're capable of seeing past its intentionally rough edges, you're in for hours of fun.

It does a fine job of allowing the player to relive the childhood experience of sticking to a game, perhaps in complete disregard of its jankiness, and still finding joy. I even resorted to making a map out of graph paper.

Mooncat is similarly evocative, possibly more directly and specifically than Barbuta is. It doesn't attempt to be conservative in its aesthetics, nor is its movement slow and unsatisfying. Instead, you're met with an extremely strange control scheme, visuals of your character in an embryonic state, and four harsh notes.

In a wonderfully thematic way, you spend the first several levels stumbling around and clumsily misinputting the controls. Just as a newborn creature lacking mastery of basic mechanical skills, the player must discard their gaming intuition and learn how to move in a strange, unfamiliar setting. For a moment or two, you're humbled and brought to the same level of competency as somebody who hasn't touched a video game in a decade.

As you get a hang of the controls, Mooncat's atmosphere begins to take your attention. It's dark and wistful, but still quite soothing in soundtrack and visuals. At times, its moodiness transitions to being overtly eerie, clashing with the Kirby-esque enemy design. Regardless, it makes you curious and sensitive to the environment.

I do not think that these aesthetic choices are intended to appeal to the extremely basic juxtaposition of "cute thing that's actually creepy and dark." Instead, I believe that it's an allusion to the unintentionally complex feelings that many games of earlier eras evoked, particularly to children. The harsh, creepy bits remind me of the seemingly mundane elements of games that would trigger fear responses in my brother and I when we were kids. Games that were not meant to be scary in any capacity would occasionally spook us so badly that we would never progress past the point of whatever it was that scared us. It's my theory that Mooncat's particularly eerie parts are meant to represent these moments.

While some details are surely intended to be unnerving, Mooncat evokes the feeling of a game that's ostensibly innocent, but still strange feeling to those who have not yet been desensitized to the normal motions of game design. Thankfully, it also does a great job at reversing this desensitization with the odd control scheme.

Both of these games do a fantastic job of evoking emotions that are quite complex and usually long gone by adulthood. I really do applaud Yu and the rest of the team for being able to both identify and recreate such feelings when it would have been so ridiculously easy for UFO 50 to instead shoot for very basic "remember THIS GAME?" style nostalgia-baiting. Great job Derek!!

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suckmyfatdee · 24 hours

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Clear Bias towards Team Black(A lot of possible spoilers)

If you are against what I wrote and don't like it, then scroll or block me, idc, don't waste your time commenting and ridiculing me because trust me, for these opinions I've heard the same thing over and over again and you're not gonna change my mind by writing an angry comment. The comment will just be deleted and you blocked because not everyone wants to argue with someone in their comments. And for those who saw something similar on reddit, that's because I posted the same thing on reddit.

I've seen people online talk about how the screenwriters are not actually biased towards Team Black because they've made Team Green less vicious than in the books and made them sympathetic...and they're wrong in my humble opinion. This rant is gonna be long probably and my english is not the best so...

Starting off with Ryan Condal constantly talking about how the books are propaganda against Rhaenyra...why specifically Rhaenyra? He says it's because Rhaenyra is a woman. How that isn't enough to make it clear that he favours Team Black(the oh so feminist team) is beyond me. The books have always been about having morally grey characters which makes sense given that the story is set in medieval times and it's literally a world where dragons exist. So naturally they don't have the same morals as we have in real life at this point in time, so to us they will always be morally grey, as intended.

Also let's talk about the fact that even if they made Team Green more sympathetic they've also destroyed them in the process.

INTRODUCTION OF TEAM GREEN:

● For older Rhaenyra and Alicent where they've already been divided into Team Green and Team Black, Rhaenyra is introduced giving birth, obviously very much in pain and exhausted. And before they introduce adult Alicent, they talk about her asking for Rhaenyra's babe and then they show Rhaenyra walking around the Red Keep, with blood trailing after her and in obvious pain having just given birth...that's how they introduced Alicent. Literally her asking a woman, who has just given birth, to bring her babe(even tho she didn't ask for Rhaenyra but whatever).

● "Older" Criston Cole is introduced in the background barely, if at all, reacting when Rhaenyra walks around the Red Keep with blood trailing after her...

● Then young Aegon(in his teen years) is introduced bullying his younger brother, which by the way never happened in the books, if anything it was the Strong boys and Viserys. And then right after that, sexually humiliated and shown jerking out the window.

● And as for older Aegon they first show his victim Dyana, who we know what he did to(even tho this also never happened in the books), violently crying and extremely traumatized. And right after that, Aegon waking up(also once again sexually humiliated) and not caring for what he did referring to it as just some "harmless" fun. That's something the audience can't get over, that's how he was introduced, and a rapist is hard to be fond of(naturally) especially with how little, if at all, he cared. But it wasn't even about the victim in this scene, we don't get any elaboration on how Dyana dealt with it or even how the other maids reacted only Alicent's dossapointment in Aegon and her disowning him. ONLY THEN they choose to make him sympathetic, letting him cry and talk about how he will never be good anough for his parents and Alicent rolling her eyes RIGHT after he is introduced as a rapist. Making a character of one faction a rapist is the easiest way to make the other faction look better and be more likeable, no matter how sympathetic they make said character(Aegon) thereafter.

● Older Helaena is introduced walking in on her brother husband crying and her asking about the very woman her brother-husband just raped. That's all we know of her in the first scene.

● Older Aemond is introduced fairly badass, I didn't have a problem with that.

MAKING TEAM GREEN INSULT RHAENYRA JUST TO DISTRACT FROM CERTAIN THINGS....:

● While Alicent and Criston are talking about Rhaenyra committing High Treason and her father not giving a flying shit, they make Criston call her a spoiled cunt.

● They made Vaemond call Rhaenyra a whore just before they made Daemon kill him so it was kind of a "Ha! He had it coming moment", which I don't remember Vaemon doing in the books but sure go on(Also, in the books it was Rhaenyra that ordered Daemon to kill Vaemond before she had Syrax eat him and then yk what else...)

● Season two it kicked off amazingly and Aegon was definitely the most entertaining character for many. I don't think I need to elaborate on what I think about the B & C scene, given Geroge has taken the words right out of my mouth. But let's talk about the small council meeting right after Aegon found out what happened to Jaehaerys. Not even in Aegon's grief do they exclude Rhaenyra, and I'm not talking about the fact that they blamed Rhaenyra but rather that they made Aegon insult Rhaenyra. And while I loved the scene and understood why a grieving father would insult his rival who is most likely responsible for the death of his son, of course a lot of people focused on him insulting Rhaenyra instead of him having just lost his son to murder.

● Criston's character they've also reduced to nothing but a heartbroken pathetic man who is bitter of a rejection even tho he played such a big part in the books(IMO). But almost every scene of Crirston they make him insult Rhaenyra as if he can't think of anyone but her.

SEXUAL HUMILIATION OF TEAM GREEN:

At this point it's pretty clear they'll sexually humiliate Team Green at any given moment.

● Ser Criston Cole is shown breaking his oath and being coerced(yes coerced, because if we watched the scene it is pretty clear as a day that that is what happened)into sex by Rhaenyra, that was something left unclear in the books but anyways. For Rhaenyra it was seen as her bravely being a girlboss and exploring her sexuality whereas Ser Criston is humiliated by the audience for it.

● As I said Aegon(in his teen years) is sexually humiliated and shown jerking out the window, with his rear on display and his own mother catching him in the act.

● Then after introducing Aegon as a violent rapist, they make Alicent pull the blanket of Aegon once again sexually humiliating him by showing his rear on full display to his mother once again...

● Then they have Helaena making a joke at dinner and we know how people perceived this as...I have no idea if the screenwriters intend to make it seem as Aegon is sexually abusing Helaena but it was seen as such by many.

● Did I forget to mention when they made Aemond and Criston look for Aegon and then they made up a scenario where Aegon forced 13 year old Aemond to have sex with the brothel Madame Silvy, which DID not happen in the books.(and yes I edited this in because I forgot to mention this). So not only is Aegon a rapist but also is the one that orchestrated the rape of his own brother.

● Then they make Larys Strong have a fetish to the very thing related to his cripple...feet. And they make him sexually abuse and coerce Alicent, the Queen, into showing her feet and show him starting to jerk off. Wow!

● In season 2 to make Alicent seem hypocritical they make her and Criston have a sexual relationship(npt even once specualted in the books) and to add insult to injury they make Helaena who freshly watched her son get murdered walk in on them having sex just to make it seem all the more horrible even tho in thw books Alicent was bound and gagged and also watched Jaehaerys get murdered.

● Then they sexually humiliate Aemond by making him lay in the lap of his RAPIST and seek comfort in her.

● A few episodes later they make Aegon, the very reason for Aemond's rape, sexually humilate his brother publicly. Great.

● Oh and of course Aegon for some reason having his cock burned when in the books he was excited to have an heir with that Cassandra Baratheon.

TEAM GREEN DOES NOT BELIEVE IN THEIR OWN CLAIM:

● In the show, they make Aegon's claim weak, if they even make it a claim. Even tho both Rhaenyra and Aegon have a claim. Rhaenyra by Viserys' word and Aegon by birth right and by Andal law.

● Young Alicent however calls Rhaenyra's claim a birthright, which it is not(and yes Book Aegon called it Rhaenyra's birthright once, I know) so she didn't believe in Aegon's claim at all since the start.

● And just to add that they made Rhaenyra see that animal to make it seem as the gods "chose" her.

● The reason Alicent usurped the throne in the show is not because she believes it's her son's birthright at all but rather because she understood Viserys to have said that Aegon was to sit the throne.

● In season two, Aemond, while talking to Ser Criston, also says they usurped Rhaenyra, so to Aemond it wasn't their birthright?

● Aegon and show!Aegon are similar in the books when it comes to the claim, so not much to elaborate on.

Lastly, TEAM GREEN HATES EACH OTHER:

Do I need to elaborate?

There is much more I could say but I don't want to make the post too long. Tried to keep it short and simple but failed(Oops.) Also I got a bit lazy towards the end as you can probably tell.

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allthesmutl0vers · 1 day

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I’ll hope on the train! Draco x Reader!

Yes!! I love some Draco smut. You didn't specifically request smut or any kind of situation, but I will do my best!🫡

A/N: PSA to everyone sending me requests, please tell me if you want Angst, Smut, or Fluff (Or a mix). Otherwise, I'm just going to assume Smut because it's like 98% of what I write. 🫠🫶

MDNI, NSFW, 18+.

Requests: OPEN

Masterlist

Pairing: Draco Malfoy x F!Reader

Summary: Draco has been your arch-enemy since the first year. He was always running his mouth, calling you 'mud blood' or calling your friends 'blood traitors.' But damn, if he didn't soak your fucking panties at the same time. It was your own personal Hell, and frankly, you were burning. How could he be anything besides cruel? How could you possibly want him and hate him at the same time? It should be a felony how much he can turn you on and piss you off in the same breath.

TW: Angst, Hate Sex, Taunting, Teasing, Smut (P! in V! -you're on birth control), Hair pulling, Choking, Name calling, Cursing, Ends with fluff.

Song Inspo: Click here. (Take me back To Eden: Sleep Token)

"Come on, just bloody admit it," Ginny groans across the train car. "You know he's into you, so what's the holdup?" She asks for the millionth time.

I roll my eyes, annoyed by her constant nagging of the subject, and sigh. "I told you, he's vile. I wouldn't touch him if he was one of the last men on the planet," I try not to snap back at her, but do anyway.

"But he's in our house, and he's hot. Who cares if he's a player?" She asks as she tosses more Bertie Bott's Beans into her mouth. I sigh and look out of the window. How can I possibly explain to her that I'm not interested in Cormac because all I can think of is one particularly vile Slytherin?

"I need some air," I brush off her question as I stand up from my seat. I exit the train car and head to the bathroom to splash some water on my face. The cool water does very little to douse the flames under my skin. "Get your shit together," I mutter to myself in the mirror, gripping the edge of the sink so hard my knuckles turn white.

I sigh and stand up to straighten my tie when the bathroom door opens. Bloody hell, Ginny. I turn to snap at her, but instead, I'm greeted by the one person I swore to myself to avoid at all possible costs. "Great," I huff and roll my eyes.

"Now, is that any way to greet your superior?" Draco quips as his eyes narrow down at me.

I can't help but laugh. "Superior? Don't flatter yourself, Malfoy. Now, move," I tell him firmly, clenching my jaw so I don't clench my thighs. Honestly, how could someone this hot be so damn infuriating?

Instead of stepping back, he steps forward, coming into the bathroom and closing the door behind him. "No. Don't think I will," he seethes, looking down at me.

I reach for my wand, only to realize I left it in the cabin. Great. Draco tsks and shakes his head with a smirk. "Forget something?" He quips.

I straighten my back. "No. I don't need a wand to kick your ass. Slytherin trash," I spit back at him with venom lacing my voice.

"Mm," Draco hums in response, taking another step closer. "Give it your best shot, mud blood," he says with a brow raised in curiosity.

I clench my fists, bringing one up and back and throwing it right at his face. Draco catches my fist with no effort at all, enclosing it in his ringed hand. "Nasty are we?" He taunts. "Too bad I was feeling generous today," he quips with a smirk and closes the space between us, his chest flush with mine. My heart pounds so hard I can hear it in my ears, and I pray he can't feel it through our clothes.

"What's wrong, love? Dementor got your tongue?" He teases as my mouth hangs open mike a fish. I mentally kick myself in the ass for it.

"Piss off, Malfoy," I spit back at him. I look at my hand, still encapsulated in his, as he smirks. His tongue dips out to lick his bottom lip, and I hate my traitorous pussy for getting wet as he does it.

Draco chuckles and smiles for just a moment before he presses me against the wall of the bathroom, grabbing my other wrist and pinning both above my head. "I do hate it when we fight. Why don't we call a truce?" He says, looking down at me, his free hand trailing my jaw and gripping my chin, forcing me to look up at him. "Hmm?"

"Thought you didn't fuck mud bloods?" I taunt, instantly wanting to take it back, when I realize I didn't say no. Which doesn't go unnoticed.

Draco's grip on my wrists tightens. "I think I can make an exception just once. I didn't hear you say no," he teases. My thighs clench together, and I fight the whimper that wants to break free from my throat.

"And if I do say no?" I swallow hard.

Draco's jaw ticks, and his eyes narrow down at me. "Then I'd say you're lying," he says, leaning into my ear. "Not just to me, I don't care about that. But lying to yourself, and that's just pathetic," he whispers in my ear, his warm breath a stark contrast from the coolness of his fingertips as they glide down my body to the end of my skirt. "You're a lot of things, love. But I never pegged you as pathetic."

My breath hitches in my chest as his fingers dance around the hem of my skirt, only fueling the fire inside of me. "So. you have two choices," he says firmly as he looks into my eyes. "You can walk out that door," he leans closer, our noses brushing. "Or, you can let me give you the best fucking sex of your life. And maybe we stop hating each other so much."

He releases me, taking a step back as my hands fall to my sides. "You have to the count of three. Otherwise, you surrender the choice to me. One," he starts to count.

God, what am I doing?

"Two," he says in a slightly deeper voice. I should run, I should run, and never look back. I should leave him hanging just as he's left me before.

"Last chance, love," Draco says darkly, starting to undo his tie. It's now or never. I swallow hard, and in the last instant, I decide to let him keep me. For now.

"Three," Draco counts, placing his tie on the counter and pulling out his wand. He does a hurried enchantment, soundproofing the bathroom and locking the door magically before he sets his wand down, too. "You're all mine, now."

I open my mouth to speak but am quickly silenced by Draco's mouth, landing on mine in a fevered kiss. His hands grip my waist, pulling me closer, and I can't stop my hands from draping around his neck, pulling him closer and deepening the kiss.

Draco groans into my mouth as I part my lips, allowing his tongue to enter for the first time. Sparks erupt under my skin as he licks the roof of my mouth. My hands run through his hair, pulling the silky stands and breaking our kiss as we gasp. "Merlin, I need you," Draco groans as he grips my thighs, lifting me off of the floor and sitting me down on the bathroom counter.

"I need you too," I moan softly. "God, I hate you so much," I pant as his lips land on my neck, kissing and nipping the sensitive skin behind my ear.

"Hate, love, I really don't see the difference. Nor do I care," Draco pants as he pulls back and reaches under my skirt, pulling my panties down and off. "All I care about is fucking you so hard you can't say anything besides my name," he huffs as he undoes his pants, pulling them down and pumping his cock in his hand.

"Then fucking do it," I taunt him, my wetness practically dripping down my thighs.

A low growl escapes Draco's throat as he pulls me off of the counter and spins me, pushing me so I'm bent over the bathroom counter. "As you wish, love," he teases as he thrusts into me, giving me no time to adjust to his large size.

I gasp as he thrusts into me, white-knuckling the edge of the sink. "Fuck, give me some time to adjust; why don't you?" I spit over my shoulder.

Draco wraps my hair in his hand and yanks my head back to look at me in the mirror. "You fucking love it," he spits back. His free hand lands on my hip with a bruising grip. He pulls back and thrusts into me again with a moan. "Fucking tight. Guess you're not as much of a slut as I thought," he taunts.

Draco slams into me with a bruising force, making my eyes roll back as he pulls my hair tighter. "Draco," I moan, unable to stop myself.

"That's it, love. Scream my name," he moans as his thrusts quicken. "Let me hear how much you love it."

I thrust back onto him, forcing myself to take him deeper. Draco lifts one of my thighs, putting it on the edge of the counter and hitting that sweet, spongy part inside of me. "Fuck, yes!" I moan loudly. "God, Draco, yes!"

"Mm, never heard my name next to 'God,'" he chuckles darkly as his grip on my hip tightens.

I groan and moan at his audacity. "Shut up and fuck me, you fucking snake," I spew with venom.

Draco's hand leaves my hip, reaching around me, and his fingers start to circle my clit in fast circles. "Then cum for a fucking snake," he fires back.

I feel myself clench around him as my orgasm starts to crest. "Fuck, yes! Draco!" I cry out as my eyes close.

Draco's hand leaves my hair to grip my throat. "Open your fucking eyes," he demands. I obey and meet his eyes in the mirror, mascara falling down my cheeks. "Look at how pretty you look. Watch me fucking ruin you."

I keep my eyes locked with his as he repeatedly impales me with his stupid, delicious, devil fucking cock. And my God, is he right. I look beautiful, like an angel after they fell from grace. Draco leans forward, nipping my shoulder as he pulls down the collar of my shirt. He pulls me back by my throat, sucking a hickey onto my neck, right where it's the most visible. "Fucking mine," he growls. "Mine to fuck, mine to ruin, mine."

His words throw me off the edge. The possessiveness, the sucking, the stolen kisses, the brutal way he's fucking me all send me spiraling down to where? I have no idea. All I know is it isn't heaven. "Draco!" I cum with an Earth-shattering cry. Draco thrusts into me once, twice, three more times before he spills himself inside of me, filling me impossibly full as he cums with my name on his lips and his head tilted back.

After we both finally come down from our highs, we clean ourselves up and re-dress. "You're on birth control, right?" Draco asks me, breaking the silence.

"Yeah," I nod. "Don't worry, you won't have any mud-blood kids coming," I bite as I move toward the bathroom door.

Draco stops me, grabbing my arm and turning me to look up at him. "I'm tired of fighting," he admits, taking me aback with his sincerity. "I don't want to fight with you anymore. I just want..." his voice falters.

I bite my lower lip. "You really mean that?" I ask cautiously. Sure, he just plowed me, but how can I know it's not just afterglow?

Draco nods and pulls me closer. "My parents be damned," he sighs. "I just want you. It's always been you."

I nod looking down, unable to believe what I'm hearing from his mouth. Did Hell freeze over when I wasn't paying attention?

Draco tips my head back up to his face with a gentle finger under my chin. "I mean it. Whatever I need to do to prove it to you, I will."

"I suppose an apology to my friends would be a good first step."

Draco nods without hesitation. "Lead the way, love," he says, grabbing his wand and undoing the magic on the door. I exit first, and he actually follows me, taking my hand in his. When we get back to the car I share with Harry, Ginny, Hermione, and Ron, he follows me inside. "Hey, guys," I say nervously as their eyes widen in shock. "Look who came to apologize," I say with a smile as Draco steps into the car with me.

"Bloody fucking hell," Ron grumbles.

"You owe me a galleon," Harry chuckles and nudges Ron.

#draco x reader #draco malfoy smut #draco malfoy #harry potter smut #draco malfoy fanart

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nihongonotabi · 4 hours

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ways to say "only", "just" in Japanese

When I started learning Japanese, I quickly discovered that “only” translates to だけ (dake). Soon after, I learned about しか (shika) and then ばかり (bakari). This led me to wonder how many ways there are to express the idea of "only" or "just" in the Japanese language. I began exploring the fascinating world of adverbs that convey limitation or exclusivity, each with its own specific nuance.

Here are some of the terms I’ve discovered (which I may continue to expand upon):

だけ (dake): Strongly emphasizes exclusivity, meaning that nothing else is included or considered. Example: 水だけください。 (Please give me only water.)

しか (shika) (used with a negative verb): Often conveys a sense of disappointment or limitation, implying that there’s nothing but the mentioned item, often with a sense of restriction. Example: 私は日本語しか話せません。 (I can only speak Japanese.)

ばかり (bakari): Suggests the dominance or prevalence of something, often with a sense of excess or monotony and a negative nuance. It does not imply strict exclusivity. Example: お菓子ばかり食べている。 (I’m only eating snacks.)

ばかし (bakashi): A casual variant of ばかり, used mostly in spoken language. It conveys a similar meaning but carries a more informal tone. Example: 遊んでばっかしいる。 (He’s only playing.)

のみ (nomi): Used in formal or written contexts, conveying exclusivity. It can sound elegant and refined. Example: 本日のみ有効です。 (Valid only today.)

ばかりか (bakari ka): This expression expands the meaning by introducing additional information, indicating more than just "only." Example: 彼は優しいばかりか、面白いです。 (He is not only kind but also funny.)

だけしか (dake shika) (used with a negative verb): This term combines だけ and しか, emphasizing strong exclusivity when used with negative constructions. Example: これだけしかない。 (There is only this.)

こそ (koso): Indicates that the highlighted item is particularly special or the best choice, often implying that nothing else can compare. Example: 今日こそ勉強する。 (Today, of all days, I will study.)

たった (tatta): Implies that an amount is minimal and often inadequate, highlighting a sense of limitation. Example: たった一人で旅行した。 (I traveled with just one person.)

わずか (wazuka): Emphasizes a minimal quantity or degree, often with a sense of surprise. Example: わずか10分で終わった。 (It only took 10 minutes.)

ほんの (honno): Indicates a small or trivial amount, often used to downplay something. Example: ほんの少しだけ食べた。 (I ate just a little bit.)

に限る (ni kagiru): This expression is used to convey that something is the best or only suitable choice for a situation. Example: 夏はアイスクリームに限る。 (Ice cream is the best for summer.)

だけでなく (dake de naku): Similar to ばかりか , this phrase is used to express that there’s more than just one thing happening. Example: 彼女は賢いだけでなく、優しいです。 (She is not only smart but also kind.)

単に (tan ni): Indicates simplicity; often used to clarify or explain something in a straightforward manner. Example: 単に冗談だよ。 (It’s just a joke.)

あくまで (akumade): Suggests that something is true only to a certain extent or in a specific context. Example: あくまで私の意見です。 (This is just my opinion.)

たかが (takaga): Often carries a dismissive connotation, suggesting that something is not very important. Example: たかが試験一回でどうなるものか。 (It’s just one exam; it won’t change much.)

I love discovering all these subtle differences and nuances, even if it can be frustrating at times. If you know of any more, please share!

#日本語 #japanese langblr #japanese language #langblr #learning japanese

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diamondcitydarlin · 1 day

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Alright real talk now without sassiness bc the whole anti thing against beetlebabes has me thinking about self-indulgent fantasy as a literary/storytelling device and it's something I've been thinking about with different medias lately, so this is topical ig for my current hyperfixation. Specifically I've been thinking about fantasy disavowal and the role that plays in self-indulgent/self-insert type fantasy stories, whether canon or extrapolated within fanfic. I first really learned about this concept in name from this video from contrapoints, so I have to give her credit for discussing this and explaining to me how it works in a way that blew my mind apart at the time, and I think it's the sort of thing that puts a lot of what goes on in self-indulgent fantasy stories into a different perspective, particularly when we're trying to evaluate said stories under an IRL moral microscope (and is why that approach pretty much never works or applies within this kind of story)

(Semi-long post under the cut where I mention Harry Potter as an example of a literary device- as I say within the writeup, I do not condone or support JKR or her beliefs and this is not an endorsement of her but rather a well-known example I think most people will recognize. Be aware if it's triggering for you. I also mention Twilight lol, incase that's an issue. It takes me a minute to get to Beetlejuice/Beetlebabes but I promise this is all relevant to my point, your honors)

Recently I saw a discussion within a Twilight fan group I'm in (yes I'm a Twilight fan and a rattie iykyk) about how toxic certain characters behavior would be IRL, particularly in the way several of them have a habit of making choices for Bella against her will, gifting her with things she's said she didn't want and insisting she use/wear them, etc etc. As a former Twilight hater (cuz I used to be that too many years ago!!!) I knew where they were coming from in being critical of these characters and calling them toxic, because in any other setting that would absolutely be true. Within fantasy disavowal, however, these 'toxic' behaviors are actually a way for the reader/writer (who is living vicariously through the main character) to have the main character get what they think she should have and want her to have without compromising her character or the integrity of the fantasy. Bella Swan, for example, is meant to be modest, selfless, 'not like other girls' and usually uncomfortable with bringing too much attention to herself (which makes her relatable to those who would live vicariously through her story), but of course many of those reading WANT her to have a big wedding and traditional dress anyway so that's where, for example, Alice's insistence she have those things comes into play. Yes, IRL that would be controlling, obsessive, weird, and a complete disregard of someone's wishes and boundaries but in a self-insert fantasy that tactic serves an important role to the purpose and point of the setting. WELL if you INSIST, Alice, I guess I'll just take your very generous and expensive gifts and deal with it, sigh, oh WELL!!! /s In that sense it's less demeaning and more empowering, if you're viewing it from the pov of someone wanting to immerse themselves in the fantasy.

Another example of where this is kinda used in self-insert fantasy is Harry Potter (and many others like it, and this isn't to condone JKR's terfism, this is just the example I think most people will recognize), wherein the children reading are meant to want to live vicariously through Harry and his friends and their adventures. For those children reading (and I know bc I was one once lol) the idea of being in a dangerous environment that the adults don't really shield them from entirely is very cool, it gives them a sense of independence and self-sufficiency and a sense of 'trust' from the fictional adults in their abilities to take care of themselves. From an adult's perspective now, particularly one with a child of first-year age, it's seemingly horrific how neglectful and reckless the adults in that series are with the wellbeing of the children they're responsible for (like, idk, sending a bunch of 11 year olds into the known death forest for their first detention sentence, at night, while knowing some beast is eating unicorns in said forest). But of course, within the story this constant, casual endangerment of children is never really brought up as an issue or as a reflection of some kind of immortality in the adults responsible for them as it would IRL, because it serves the purpose of self-indulgent fantasy for the children reading. It's not MEANT to be seen as a moral failing or child endangerment AT ALL so much as just the adults characters getting the fuck out of the way so the kids can have fun- unless it's like Umbridge doing it, who is established as an villain and immoral even in that setting from the jump. (And again this isn't a defend JKR post, just an explanation/example of what I'm talking about) IDK if this qualifies as fantasy disavowal perse, but it's a similar phenomenon of how behaviors -particularly those of supporting characters- can seem immoral/toxic under a real world lens but within the story serves a purpose to the reader living through the fantasy.

The way this relates to Beetlebabes for me is mostly fanon focused, but I think there are elements of disavowal in the canon as well. A lot of us who ship beetlebabes feel a kinship to Lydia in some way or another, especially those of us who watched the first film and cartoon as we ourselves were coming of age (and also probably weirdo goth kids too at the same time, I definitely was lol) and while it obviously isn't a fantasy for everyone, for a lot of us the idea of a 600-year old demon choosing and becoming obsessed with our weirdo asses BECAUSE of our weirdness is really cool actually lmao. To others, Beej pursuing Lydia so ardently against her outspoken disavowal can only be seen as intentionally toxic because they're not part of the fantasy, nor do they want to be, so seeing the merits (and empowerment) of his pursuit within this setting is beyond them. And of course, there's something to be said for the inherent nature of gothic romance as a setting, as well as the fact that movieverse Beetlejuice isn't really meant to be the pinnacle of moral direction in real life, it's meant to be a creepy, kooky dark comedy that pushes the boundaries of societal norms (not unlike what we do in the shadows). As others have said, this also isn't unlike the film Labyrinth much at all, though I RARELY see anyone coming after the Jareth/Sarah ship despite Sarah being a child in the film and Jareth being, yknow, also an ancient spirit of some kind. Perhaps because most people better understand how Labyrinth functions as a self-insert fantasy, that Jareth's obsession with Sarah is meant to be an empowering thing within that context for the young people like Sarah watching it, not an endorsement of IRL predatory behavior (ofc, Jareth being mostly a creation of Sarah's might aid with the sense of her power over the situation).

Honestly, I think it's also true for a lot of people against Beetlebabes that they identify with Lydia too, but in a way that doesn't include wanting a 600-year old demon to be obsessed with them (you do you boo, more of him to go around ig lmaooo), but instead of seeing and accepting the merits of Beej's obsession in this other kind of fantasy, they instead choose to apply real-world morals onto not only the story but the people who enjoy this story as well as their personal discomfort demands. For as much as they want to accuse others of 'not having media literacy' for shipping it, they sure jump right over the point of this literary/storytelling device. And to that end, I can't wholly blame them, because it was only within the last few years that I really realized and accepted how this works too- but I'm doing my best to explain it now, for whomever is interested.

I guess what I'm ultimately trying to say is that self-insert/self-indulgent type fantasy stories are, by design, not meant to be viewed through a real-world moral lens. The entire point of them is to transport a reader/viewer into a world where real-life doesn't apply, where someone like them is loved and obsessed over for the things that they are often disparaged for IRL and within a context where they (and the main character) still hold the reigns of control, as Lydia does over Beetlejuice time and time again (despite being a powerful 600 year old demon Beej sure lets his wife kick him around a lot, doesn't he???). It's not meant to be an endorsement or romanticization or even a depiction of IRL immorality either, as that would ruin the effect of the fantasy.

So yeah, I feel like trying to evaluate most of these stories in a real-world moral context is a fundamental misunderstanding of how this kind of storytelling works- that's not to say one can't evaluate them that way if they want, and sometimes (like other things used within the HP series) it's due, but I think it definitely becomes an issue when this 'moral evaluation' turns into one of the people who enjoy the fantasy too. The fictional flights of fancy that people like to immerse themselves into are just that; fantasy. And what's more, different people like living vicariously through different kinds of fantasies, different people are going to find different things empowering in said stories and just because one thing feels empowering for one person but demeaning to another should not mean the former person is immoral and gross in real life or would even want these things to happen in real way.

I keep trying to wrap this post up and failing, but that's basically it. I'm posting this because I know others will probably have way more intellectual insight and feedback to add about this kind of storytelling and I just think it's really fascinating to talk about. What do yall think?

#beetlebabes #beetlelyds #ive just been rotating this concept around for awhile and lo and behold it's relevant to my other hyperfixation #hoping to hear more opinions about this bc i think it's really interesting tbh

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goquokka00 · 1 day

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Stray Kids on Weed

The Bangchan Strain In which the love of their life smokes the mary jane, and they give it a shot for the first time...

A Few Notes: This is purely just supposed to be funny and a joke. I've also never been high and while I am friends with those who have either tried weed or do weed on the regular, I only know so much. So please just bear with me and have a good laugh, okay? Okay. Love you guys ❤️❤️❤️

I have a very firm belief that Mr. Bangchan over here in the corner's first time ever even dealing with weed is through a joint. He gives me the vibe that if he ever did smoke, it would be from joints, and he'd be good at rolling in general.

He sees you smoking it from time to time, and this time, he wanted to give it a shot. Of course, with any first time smoking, he ends up going into a coughing fit. I mean, you're breathing in smoke, why wouldn't you cough the first time? Hello?

But once the initial high kicks in, I see Bangchan as someone who'd be very giggly. Like, anything and everything is funny to this mother fucker. The picture that has been hanging for forever on your wall that was honestly really beautiful is immediately the funniest thing Bangchan has ever laid his eyes on because, and I quote, "The bear be kronked."

It isn't just the picture. It's watching dance practices, his own music, texts he's had with you in the past, need I say more? And if he found something funny when he was sober, then you bet your ass Bangchan's pissing his pants laughing. One time you had him rewatch the video of Jisung twerking that the younger member had sent out to just the members specifically, and Bangchan was on the floor, struggling to breathe from how hard he was laughing.

I also have this feeling that Bangchan would end up being way more emotional. Since he doesn't really show emotion when he's sober, I feel like more of his emotions would come out when high because you're relaxed, and riding the vibe train to who knows where. But I'm not talking just being more susceptible to his emotions.

I'm talking the stereotypical "Teenage girl is on her period and literally can't control her emotions." Bro will literally hear one sad thing and start bawling, only to giggle a few minutes later because he thought he sounded funny and saw you laughing at him crying.

And don't even get me started on the stripping issue.

I have this gut feeling that Bangchan would find clothes...uncomfortable...when high. They're clinging to his skin, tickling his arms, his jeans just feel weird, or his sweats are too hot. And so he'd just take them off, right then and there. And I mean everything.

If you're not there to watch him, or if he gets into the mary-ja-mooch when you're not there, you're gonna end up walking into the living room to see Bangchan ass-naked and laughing at his schlong because of how it's moving.

By the time his high is finally dissipating, you're usually able to get him back onto the couch curled up with a blanket and some water. And once he's sober, you both agree that this strictly stays between you two and that the kids will NEVER find out about his.

Do I think that Chan would go back to smoking? Maybe, probably not? I feel like he'd only do it on occasion, maybe if he's had a really stressful day and needs a break, but I feel like since he always ends up like...y'know...he tends to keep it on the down low.

Hey! Firstly, thank you so much for reading this post, and I really hope you enjoyed! If you did, please like, reblog, or comment so I can see how I'm doing with writing and getting feedback! I hope you have a lovely day! Sleep well, stay in good health, and eat something if you haven't! ❤️❤️❤️

Taglist: @miss-daisy04 @kayleefriedchicken @wolfs-archive @stayyyyyyyyyyyy21 @wolfs-howling @rose-w-00-d

#stray kids #skz #stray kids imagine #skz imagines #skz stay #bangchan #skz scenarios #bang chan #christopher bang #stray kids chris #bangchan skz #bangchan stray kids #skz chan #stray kids bang chan #bang chan stray kids #christopher bahng #chan

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the-monkeies-girl · 2 days

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👀 not to sound weird or anything but I could've sworn you had posted earlier today, selfies in specific (noticed a notification about it). Now as I do my daily checks on my favorite accounts to see how they've been or what they're doing, I see nothing on about what the notification told me about yours.

Either way, I hope you've been well and been having happy moments and experiences. Stay absolutely amazing and I hope it only gets better for you, hopefully you hit that sweet spot in pregnancy soon where it's mainly the weight of the belly and weird cravings that are bothersome. Take it easy and light! (If you want to of course!)

Random question if you want to answer, "What has been your weirdest craving you've had?" If you have had any,

Love you and stay safe!

I deleted the post because I looked ugly 🥲 lmao. Let’s have a small life update below:

Here are two pics where I don’t look like I’m dying and my hair is actually on point ( thank pregnancy for giving me luminous volume lolol. )

Thank you so much for your kind words! I miss you guys all so much, it really makes me feel sad to know I’m not back and ready to write again. 😭 I have been playing a lot of piano though ( can post vids if you guys are interested at all ), and I really missed it as it is one of my deepest passions. It’s been a step at a time, a week at a time, but I’m hopeful to get something small written and posted soon for all of you!

I feel like I have no bump yet. 😂 I’m waiting but I’ve also heard women don’t pop with their first until later so I’ve been taking progression pics weekly lol. I can’t tell what’s bloat and what’s not anymore as the first month I was just bloated beyond belief no matter what I ate.

Luckily, I am able to incorporate more carbs and sugars back into my diet as I’ve been managing my diabetes like a pro! ( not to brag ). I’ve been baking a lot of breads for my husband and I and they are delicious. 😊 think I’m gonna go to cookies next week and then cakes.

I’ve had two cravings, if that’s what you want to call them ( other than really wanting to eat a candle last week because it smelled SO GOOD ). Aversions have been bigger on my list, taste wise and oddly texture wise.

One craving has been these crispy fried green beans that Birdeye makes. I just air fry them and go to town. Have been surviving off them tbh.

Second is chips ahoy but ONLY the crunchy ones. I will cry if given chewy. Unfortunately, I still can’t gorge myself on sweets so i have to limit myself to one cookie a DAY. And it’s not made me happy. 😭😂

I also want avocado with some chocolate sauce on it but my husband keeps talking me out of trying. 🥲

Wilbur and Zoe are fantastic as usual, Wilbur is still very clingy and I suspect Zoe knows something is going on with me but that could just be my imagination, haha.

#em speaks #personal

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zaebeecee · 3 days

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To Sever a Loveless Bond

••RadioDust Soulmate AU••

Part 21/?

First chapter | Previous chapter | Next chapter

Read on AO3

•••

I know it’s been over a month but to make up for it this chapter is nearly 10k words and a whole lot of stuff happens. Like… a whole lot of stuff. Thank you again for sticking with me, y’all, you mean the world to me.

I headcanon Alastor as having had hEDS in life. Also, in our house we call Vox’s assistant Blink in fanfic because we need to call him something

CW for violence, non-consensual/forced nudity, various forms of torture, slut shaming, Vox being a creepy fuck, blood ritual stuff, electricity super fucking Alastor up in the short term

•••

Alastor and pain were not, nor had they ever been, strangers to one another.

It was true, of course, that he quite enjoyed causing harm of both the physical and the emotional variety to those around him… and the psychological, when opportunity knocked. However, he knew pain much too intimately for such knowledge to come from base violence and chaos; it was a gift that life had begun to give him at a young age, his body plagued with a strange malady that neither his maman nor the few doctors they could afford were able to identify. It caused him pain most every moment of every day, and that, in turn, transformed the pain into something… else, something almost familiar and comfortable.

There even came a time that Alastor had convinced himself that pain was no longer a hindrance for him. Of course, there were different kinds of pain, but when one could never escape from it, embracing it became second nature.

The pain that jarred Alastor out of the nothingness of unconsciousness and into the wakeful dark was nothing like the pain of his life, nor like any other pain he had felt in the time since. An odd sort of tingling sensation lay across every inch of his skin, pervasive and just irritating enough to be impossible to ignore; it persisted until he tried to make any movement at all, at which point the fuzzy, staticky sensation spiked quite immediately into the pain of a thousand hot needles piercing through skin and muscle and deep into bone. His breath came in a sharp and ragged gasp as his eyes flew open, focusing on a neon-edged black abyss that stretched endlessly above him before he was forced to screw them shut again.

“You’re getting soft, Alastor.”

That voice, always an unpleasant intruder in his everyday life when simply heard through a television speaker, was more biting than the hurt that wracked his body as it seemed to slice into his eardrums with its brusque, smug self-satisfaction. Alastor gritted his teeth, lip curling as he forced one eye open again, attempting to look around through the red lens of his monocle only to find that it had been taken off of him.

“Not very hospitable surroundings, old pal,” Alastor hissed with all the venomous sarcasm he could muster in the moment. “Losing your touch at playing host?”

“Perhaps not hospitable, but certainly appropriate.” Vox wasn’t in his line of sight, and Alastor took a moment to try and figure out where the fuck, exactly, he was. He was lying flat on his back on a hard, unyielding surface, metal fastened about his wrists, his legs, and the middle of his abdomen. His clothing had been removed, and he could feel that something thin and sharp had been pushed into his flesh along most of his major muscle groups down his arms, legs, and abdomen, but he couldn’t tell what it was. And his strength… it felt like every ounce of his control over his body and his power had been siphoned from him. “Are you feeling proud of yourself?” Vox asked.

“Usually,” Alastor said, keeping his voice flippant as his grin tightened. “About what, specifically?”

Alastor heard Vox’s footsteps before he saw him. The other overlord stepped up to the slab he was lashed down to—bolted to, really—and stared down at him with that… look that he got when he was (as Alastor had always put it back in the day) ‘thinking like a capitalist’. It was something that was trying for cold and appraising, but was full of too much… greed? Hunger? Alastor didn’t know what to call it, but whatever it was, there was too much for his gaze to truly be called dispassionate.

Vox was maintaining his calm, a fairly impressive feat these days. “You actually allowed yourself to be baited. By Valentino,” the television overlord said with what sounded like every ounce of derision he possessed. “And you always fancied yourself above such base behavior.”

Alastor giggled as a pain stabbed his chest from the inside, like a knife shoving up through his sternum. “Says the one who’s simply let Valentino use him as a meal ticket for the past forty years.”

“I wouldn’t be laughing if I were you,” Vox snarled, a crack in that carefully-constructed image he so dutifully maintained. One of his hands hit the table beside Alastor’s head and he leaned forward to loom over the Radio Demon as Alastor turned his face away, still snickering. “You aren’t exactly in an advantageous position here, Alastor. Do you really want to push me right now?”

“Of course not,” Alastor said with a false contrition, his eyes cutting over to Vox while his face remained turned away. “These newfangled flatscreens topple so easily. I would be absolutely mortified if I broke your face again.”

Fury passed across Vox’s screen for a moment… but only a moment. It calmed, quite suddenly, as he raised his other hand and extended his index finger. Alastor had only a moment to wonder what the actual fuck was happening before Vox touched one of the somethings buried in his arm.

“FUCK!!” Alastor screamed, the word torn from his lips unbidden, as a horrific jolt of unadulterated and pure agony shot through his arm, down into his fingers and up into his shoulder and neck. His hand spasmed, joints cracking and claws gouging the metal table, as his head snapped to nearly lean his ear against his shoulder. The next moment, the overwhelming sensation of active torture vanished, leaving behind a throbbing hurt and the occasional uncontrolled twitch of his fingers and shoulder.

Alastor gasped for breath against the feeling of a heavy weight on his chest, his smile widening as he focused on Vox’s face, studying him as though he were a mildly interesting test audience for a new pilot. “What…�� Alastor’s voice gave out, and his head twitched, before he managed to focus again. “…the fuck… did you do…?”

Vox raised an eyebrow. “You’re providing me with intensely useful metrics,” he said. “I had an idea for a new game show, but I hadn’t had the chance to actually perform any meaningful tests to determine what, precisely, would be an appropriate range. After all, it has to be painful enough to be entertaining, but not so painful that the contestants will either pass out or explode too quickly.”

Alastor curled his lip. “I am not your test subject.”

“You… are, actually.” Vox smiled at him, a smile that was nasty and cold and nothing like what he let most other people see. “Listen. Alastor. You are the one who elected to enter into my domain. You nearly tore the damn building down. If I let you go, you’d just proceed to destroy everything you could get your hands on.”

“Obviously,” Alastor hissed.

Vox ignored the interjection. “So, clearly, I can’t release you; it’s not in the company’s best interest. And, if I have you here anyway, I may as well make use of you.”

The word brought the taste of bile into Alastor’s mouth, and he jerked against his bindings, but his body felt… weak. It was as though it didn’t want to obey the commands of his brain. “I am going to free myself from this little contraption of yours, and the moment I do, I am going to fucking kill you.”

“I’m sure you’ll try,” Vox allowed. “But we both know that if you could kill me, you would have already done it.” He turned away, going back to whatever he had been doing out of Alastor’s line of sight. “To answer your question, I’ve inserted silver-plated wires into your muscles. Silver is the most conductive metal, so it will be the most efficient in transferring electricity directly into your flesh. I’m going to gauge your responses to different levels of electrical shock in different places. And you can try to break out all you like, but your nervous system and your brain aren’t communicating right now, and probably won’t be until long after I’m done here.”

Alastor found himself laughing, the sound high and weak as he struggled to breathe, as though the electric shock had flattened his lungs. “And you say I’m sick.”

“You are,” Vox said. “But I really do have to ask. How, exactly, was it that Val got you to come here?”

Alastor snorted. “Why so curious?”

“Because Val is an idiot. But you were so very upset when you arrived.” Vox returned to the table and leaned his hip against it, folding his arms as he looked down at Alastor once more. “I’m sure it will interest you to know that Angel Dust is with him again.”

Alastor wasn’t sure what, precisely, his face did when Vox said that. Whatever it was, though, it was clear that Vox wasn’t expecting it. The television overlord’s eyes widened for a moment before narrowing, his teeth gritting visibly and his left eye spasming briefly. Alastor kept his own voice as steady as he could. “You can’t keep me here forever, Vox,” he said, his voice low. “When I am done with you, and when I am done with Valentino, there will not be enough of you left to even whimper in the radio chorus.”

“I can’t believe you’re doing all of…” Vox’s screen glitched, and he shook it a little, clearing the image. “You’re endangering yourself, debasing yourself, degrading yourself, and for what? A common whore?”

Alastor’s smile sharpened. “The fact that you think he’s common shows how incomparably myopic you are, Vox.”

Years ago, Alastor had realized that he had never truly understood Vox’s mind or how it worked. It was impossible to tell what he was thinking at any given moment, and his motivations (particularly where Alastor himself was concerned) had always been downright unfathomable. That was why, Alastor supposed, he couldn’t predict Vox’s movements when he suddenly held up another silver-plated wire in his clenched fist and slammed it down into Alastor’s arm, piercing straight through the little spider in the crook of his elbow.

Alastor’s scream morphed into laughter that sounded unhinged even to himself, punctuating continued shrieks of agony as electricity shuddered into his soulmate mark. Eventually, it didn’t even sound like it was coming from his own mouth, his consciousness disconnecting and reconnecting as though trying to find a particularly weak station signal on an old radio.

You can’t keep me here forever, Vox.

He knew that more he repeated it, the easier it would become to believe.

•••

Angel stumbled across the bare tile floor and slammed into the wall across from the doorway, unable to catch himself to cushion the blow to his shoulder and the side of his head. His teeth ground together as his socked feet slowly slid across the cold ceramic, his body slipping down the wall in what felt like slow motion until he landed on his hip in an inelegant, uncomfortable slump.

He could still see the agony on Alastor’s face as he collapsed, hear the soft buzz of electricity as he twitched involuntarily, like the moment now seared into his memory had happened moments ago when, at this point, it had to have been more than four hours. When Valentino had dragged him from the studio and into the nearest room with a surface flat enough to pretend to be a bed, he had proceeded to treat Angel like a rag doll, beating him and touching him, taking out what seemed to be every frustration he had built up since the 70s on Angel’s defenseless flesh. He had once thought he could never feel more worthless and disgusting, but Valentino had proven him wrong. Angel hadn’t even been aware of leaving the room, only vaguely registering that he was being dragged down the hallway before Valentino opened a nondescript door and threw him inside.

“I have given you everything you have.”

He tried not to let his pain show on his face. He really did. Even so, Angel could feel the corners of his eyes pinching with pain as he slowly opened them and looked up at Valentino, the overlord standing in the doorway, blocking it with his arms and the cape-like wings that twitched, threatening to open. Valentino would have almost looked dispassionate, were it not for the blood on his claws and spattering the front of his shirt.

Angel’s blood.

The same blood now smeared on the wall behind him, marking the path of his descent like the trail of a large and dying snail.

Angel didn’t answer, and Valentino took his silence as response enough, baring his teeth and digging gouges in the doorframe. “You were nothing before I found you,” he hissed. “Nothing. And without me, you would always be nothing. After everything I have given you, this is how you repay me?”

Angel had never felt so tired in his entire life. Something deep in his mind told him that this, right here, was it. This was going to be the rest of his life. Valentino was stupid, sure, but he wasn’t a complete idiot, and he must have grown his extra hands to make it easier to hold a grudge because the porn overlord had never and would never forgive what he determined to be a true betrayal. In Valentino’s eyes, Angel had betrayed him; no amount of apologizing or flattery or cocksucking would ever be enough to lift him out of the hole he had dug himself into. It wouldn’t be enough for Valentino to turn him out, of course—no, Valentino would much rather make Angel Dust’s life an active Hell for the rest of eternity—but it would be hanging over him for the rest of time, unless he threw himself on an exorcist’s spear during the next extermination.

Angel’s voice was flat in his own ears when he spoke. “Fuck you, Val.”

Valentino’s eye twitched behind his sunglasses. “You will eat those words, Angel Dust,” he said. Angel thought he might leave then, but instead, he said, “He will never love you.”

I know that.

Still, hearing it out loud, and from Valentino of all people, cut through Angel’s haze of numbness with a hot blade that seemed to slice into his core. He flinched, but he didn’t say anything, and because Valentino’s vision sucked, he didn’t notice.

He also didn’t stop.

“You’re more brainless than I thought, amorcito,” Valentino said with a remarkable level of control. “To believe that someone like you could be enough to sway the Radio Demon? You’re gutter trash, a filthy crack whore who would sell out his own family for a dime bag. He won’t look twice at the best this shithole has to offer. What makes you think something like you could change that?”

It would have been easier to take if Valentino had been yelling, but he wasn’t. No, it was that soft, mocking tone he took when he knew he’d found one of the flaws that made a crack in Angel’s psyche big enough for him to dig his claws into and pour his words in like poisonous smoke. Angel wanted to tell him to go fuck himself again, but he was so… tired.

Angel lowered his head. Valentino said something about not trusting him on his own while he checked on the status of the building, and then he left, closing the door behind him. Angel heard the click of the lock, the slow retreat of footsteps… and then nothing.

Slowly, Angel raised his head again, glancing around at where he had been left now that Valentino wasn’t around to observe his mild curiosity and trepidation. It looked like one of the many, many storage rooms VoxTek had scattered around the building; very few of them had a dedicated purpose, instead serving as a place to put furniture or equipment when rooms on the floor were being cleaned or the tech was being updated or any number of other reasons you might want bulky items neatly stacked somewhere out of the way.

This particular storage room appeared to be currently in disuse, the only other thing inside (besides Angel himself) being a bare, stark white lightbulb set high in the ceiling with no visible switches to turn it off. Outside of that, he saw nothing but bare off-white walls and bare white tile, both only marred by Angel’s blood where he had smeared it along the wall and let it drip onto the floor. It was almost blinding, and Angel screwed his eyes shut, letting his head fall back with a soft thud of impact that shouldn’t have hurt but sent pain shuddering all along his spine.

Now that he was alone, Angel felt nothing but pain. Cold seeped into his skin through his socks, the only clothing he had been allowed—and only because Valentino hadn’t bothered to rip them off—and he shivered, wrapping his arms around his bent legs and burying his face in his knees. The mark on his leg pulsed softly, like a heartbeat, and he realized he was crying.

This is so fucking pathetic, he thought, even though he was well aware that berating himself wouldn’t do shit for him or anyone else. All he wanted to do was get out of this room, find Alastor, and get both of them out of there. He’d happily break Vox’s screen if that was what it took.

No matter how badly he wanted to do something, to do anything at all besides sit uselessly in a closet trying to stop crying, he knew it was useless because even if he did manage to find Alastor and free him and even actually stand up to Vox, Valentino could use that fucking chain to stop him. It would be trivial. It wouldn’t help. It might even make Alastor’s situation worse.

Then again, you’re making a lot of assumptions. Alastor might not even still be here. How could Vox keep him? Why would he stay?

Why did he come here in the first place?

Angel sniffled, raising his head just enough to rub his eyes and listening to any sounds he could pick up coming from anywhere else in the building. Even though the power had come back on, it sounded like most of the systems weren’t currently running; more than likely, a ton of fuses had blown, and it would probably take a while to fix them. Since he couldn’t hear the omnipresent and overbearing electric hum that usually followed him whenever he was in this damn place, he was able to pick up the distant and muffled sound of voices somewhere below him, even more distant equipment banging and crashing as employees dealt with the aftermath of Alastor’s rampage, and a hollow sort of nothingness that came with the knowledge that he was alone and no one would be coming for him until Valentino decided to let him out.

Angel’s breath hitched in a sob and he cursed himself, pressing the heels of two hands into his eyes. “Stop it,” he muttered to himself, but it did nothing to stem the burgeoning tide of tears burning as they leaked out through tightly-clamped eyelids and soaked his palms. A third hand balled into a fist and struck the wall behind him, a sensation that did nothing but increase his frustration and make him wish he had something considerably more fleshy to rip apart. “Stupid,” he hissed, not even certain who he was saying it to anymore. He needed to think of something, but his mind was so—

A cold hand wrapped around Angel’s wrist and he screamed, jerking away and striking out at the sudden intruder. His hand hit nothing but air until his knuckles collided with the wall in a sharp snap that made him gasp with pain, yanking it back and cradling it to his chest. Nothing else touched him.

“What the fuck?” Angel whispered, rubbing tears from his eyes to clear his vision. There was nothing else in the room, just him, that blinding lightbulb, his blood, and his shadow.

No. Not his shadow.

Angel’s eyes widened as his vision adjusted and he could actually tell what he was looking at. Alastor’s shadow was on the wall beside him, back a couple of feet as though giving him room. There was something almost apologetic in the way the dark, angular, contorted figure held its hands and the way its mouth twisted into the sort of deep and worried frown Alastor’s own face seemed incapable of wearing. As Angel lowered his arm, raised on instinct to guard his face, the shadow seemed to relax minutely and return to a shape more familiar but no less off-putting.

“…Alastor…” Angel felt as though his heart was breaking at the same moment as the very sight of that shadow caused it to swell, two of his hands moving to the floor between his knees so he could lean forward and reach out a third hand. Angel rubbed his eyes with his fourth hand, sniffling wetly and clearing his throat. “Hey, Big Guy, come back, it’s okay,” he said, the words coming out as a rough murmur.

The shadow tilted its head, in a sense, before drifting across the wall back towards Angel. It reached out towards him, then stopped, twitching sharply like it was in pain.

“…!” Angel slid back over to the wall, placing his hands against the surface; as his fingers touched the blackness that formed the shadow, he felt that depthless cold again, the same that he felt every time Alastor had swept him into his own personal darkness. “What’s wrong?” he asked, pushing past the hurt of his ruined throat. “Are you— is he—…” He wasn’t sure how to ask what he meant.

The shadow’s twitching stilled, its form shifting in minute ways like it was actually catching its breath. Its face tilted down towards Angel’s hands before it moved its own arms, and as it did, Angel watched its shadowy fingers cascade across the backs of his own hands, like it was entwining their hands. The cold made him shiver, but he didn’t move away; even if his fingers had gone numb, he would have stayed right where he was.

“I’m so sorry,” Angel murmured. He reached up a third hand, but didn’t touch the wall. Instead, he watched his own shadow move closer until it touched Alastor’s. Instantly, as though it could feel his shadow hand like a real touch, it tilted into the touch and began practically nuzzling his shadow palm with the top of its head. Even though Angel wasn’t touching the wall, he could have sworn he felt the ruffle of hair, the hard ridge of an antler, and even the soft fur of an ear against his palm and fingers. “I don’t know what to do,” he confessed, watching as the shadow kept pressing its head against the silhouette of his hand. “Val locked me in here and won’t let me out until he comes back.” The shadow’s mouth twisted into a snarl, as if the very mention of Valentino had triggered some sort of rage within it. “And even if I…” Angel shook his head, moving his fingers to make his shadow scritch the manifestation’s ear. “…he won’t let me out of his sight. I know he won’t.”

At those words, Alastor’s shadow straightened, and as it removed its hands from Angel’s, it felt like he had suddenly dipped his fingers into hot water, so sudden was the return of warmth to his skin. The shadow hesitated at Angel’s surprised gasp, but it swept along the walls until it reached the door, and within moments, it had vanished through the crack at the base.

“Wait…!” Angel called, but the shadow was out of sight before he even thought of getting the word out. Slowly deflating, Angel had less than a breath to wonder what he was going to do now when he heard a tiny click from the door. Angel gasped, backing away, but it didn’t open. It didn’t sound like anyone was out there at all, least of all Valentino and his unbridled rage.

When he heard nothing else, Angel slowly got to his feet, placing his hand on the handle and pressing down. With another little click, the door creaked open, and Angel carefully peered out into the dim hallway. There was no one else, not even the terrifying and comforting shape of Alastor’s shadow lurking in the dark. The rooms sounded completely empty, everyone who normally would have been on the floor doubtless busy with the destruction happening far below him.

Angel glanced back at the closet, then made his decision and closed it behind him, twisting the lock with his thumb. He then ran down the hall, heading for the stairwell that would take him to a back hall he could use to reach his dressing room. Valentino wouldn’t check there first, second, or even third, and he had clothes in there that he could change into while he was thinking. He didn’t have a lot of time and he needed to make the most of the little he did have.

Alastor was somewhere in the building, after all, and Angel wasn’t going to leave him, soul contract be damned.

•••

It had been a long time since the vibe (that was the right word, right?) of the hotel had felt this… off. The Hazbin Hotel had its problems, just like any business, and the residents sometimes had their problems, but the atmosphere wasn’t usually this heavy. In fact, this was as bad as it had gotten since the evening after the last extermination.

Charlie had been yelled at for pacing, which meant she was now standing behind the front desk, watching everyone else. Niffty was still hanging out with Husk, who was doing his best to keep her occupied while they waited for any kind of news, silently validating Charlie’s own opinion that he really was a sweetheart under all of his grumpiness. Cherri was sitting with the guy apparently named Arackniss, who was also apparently Angel Dust’s brother, and Charlie would have eaten a whole pinecone for the chance to ask him just… so many questions if it wasn’t for the fact that this was definitely not the time. Moxxie, Millie, and Loona were only a short distance from them; occasionally, it looked like the five of them were interacting a little, but for the most part were just waiting for news (and, in I.M.P.’s case, for their boss to come back).

Charlie knew how they felt. She was certain everything was fine and there was no question that contract things could take a long time, but she couldn’t stand not knowing where Vaggie was. She pulled out her phone, but her girlfriend still hadn’t sent her anything since the text saying Prince Stolas was looking the contract over, and that had been forever ago.

The wait was driving her insane, and Charlie was trying to come up with something that she could do to pass the time (that wouldn’t end with Husk yelling at her to sit down) when the front door opened with an abrupt jerk.

Immediately, Charlie was alert, and she saw that awareness spread through the rest of the room as everyone diverted their attention to Vaggie and Blitzø as they came in, the imp shutting the door behind him. He pointed at Charlie as they approached, Charlie herself hopping over the desk and hurrying over to meet them halfway. “Your girlfriend flies like a fucking maniac,” Blitzø said, his voice winded.

Vaggie looked entirely unapologetic, and didn’t even look at him as she pulled the folded contract from her pocket. Charlie clasped her hands together in front of her chest as everyone else began gathering, some at more of a distance than others. “So? How did it go?”

“He found a loophole,” Vaggie said, offering the contract out for Charlie to take, which she did almost on reflex. “We just have to figure out how to get it to work.”

“How to—?” Charlie blinked. “What do you mean?”

“I’m not going to pretend I perfectly understood everything he said,” Vaggie said, glancing at Blitzø; he shrugged at her, and she turned back to Charlie. “But in a nutshell, the contract is still active because Valentino keeps increasing the value of his soul. Because of the wording in the contract, since he’s lived here for six months, you now have the power to do that. If you change the value to less than he’s made for VoxTek, the contract will end. But I don’t know how you’re supposed to do that.”

“He didn’t say?” Charlie asked.

Blitzø shook his head. “If he’d known, he would have told us. Soul contracts aren’t his bag, he’s not that kind of Goetia. Moxxie,” he added a little sharply.

Immediately, the other imp straightened. “Sir?”

“You’re good with contracts,” Blitzø said. “Go over it with the princess, see if you can’t help her figure out how it works.”

“Wha— um, yeah, sure.” Moxxie cast Blitzø an almost suspicious look, but broke away from Millie, crossing to Charlie. “If that’s okay with you?”

“Oh, yeah, please,” Charlie said. “We don’t deal with a lot of contracts here, and when we do— well. Alastor usually handles that,” she said a little sheepishly. It felt like every time something new cropped up this past month, she was faced with yet another thing she didn’t know how to do. Shaking off the feeling, she said, “Come on, let’s go back here.”

She led Moxxie through a hallway back behind the front desk to the management office, a place that she herself rarely used; though it was officially her office, Alastor and Vaggie got a lot more use out of it than she did, tending to paperwork or restocking orders and other more tedious work while she handled the face-to-face, public relations sort of duties. Charlie hesitated, then sat at the chair behind the desk, inviting Moxxie to pull a chair over and— “Oh!” Charlie blinked. “I didn’t hear you follow us.”

“That’s my M.O.” Arackniss leaned against the closed door, one set of arms folded across his chest. He had the same expression on that he’d had ever since Charlie first saw him, one that she had a Heaven of a time trying to read. “I thought you could use someone who’s got experience with Sinner contracts. Crimson don’t usually work with those, right?”

Charlie didn’t know what he meant, but apparently Moxxie did, because he stood up straighter. “How do you know him?” he asked, his voice immediately guarded and almost hostile.

Arackniss raised an unimpressed eyebrow, holding up one hand. “Cool your jets, kid,” he said. “I ain’t had the dubious honor of his acquaintance, but he has… entered my sphere of awareness, you might say. He don’t interest me, in any case.”

Moxxie was incredibly tense as he stood, watching Arackniss like he was thinking of… well, from what Charlie had learned after getting in on the ground level (as it were) in Hell society, it looked like Moxxie was thinking about shooting him. Instead, he said, “I didn’t really deal with Sinners there, no. And the contracts we do make with Sinners these days are a lot different and don’t have anything to do with souls.”

Arackniss walked over and placed two of his hands on the desk, looking at Charlie as she sat down in the office chair. “Right. So, let’s look at that contract and see exactly what it says.”

“Ah— right,” Charlie said, opening it up and smoothing over it with her hand to keep it flat against the desktop. The paper had that smooth, almost glass-like quality that paper tended to get when it was really aged; according to the date, it was more than fifty years old, by Sinner reckoning. She scanned over the words, looking for relevant passages, before her eyes lit on something likely. “Ah, here we go, maybe,” she said. “It says… The Contractee—” she glanced at the beginning of the text “—which is Angel Dust, hereby agrees to relinquish ownership of their quintessence to the Aheydrun, which I’m guessing is Valentino, for the purposes of manifest energy transference, defeasance of volition and percopacity and the supersedence thereof, and engagement in the vocation of indecorous dramatization in accordance with paragraph four until such time as the Contractee has repaid their determined value, the appreciation of which is subject to the Aheydrun’s discretion.” She hesitated, then looked up. “What’s an Aheydrun?”

Arackniss shrugged at her. Moxxie frowned. “It’s a Goetian word. It sounds archaic. I don’t know it, but I’m guessing that’s what Vaggie and Blitzø were referring to.”

Charlie nodded. “…so… Angel signed his soul over to Valentino and gave him the promise to perform in any film asked of him, all of the power his soul acquired during the span of the contract, and signed over his free will? …why?”

“Because he either didn’t read it or didn’t understand it,” Arackniss said. “Doubt most any Sinners would understand that shit, it’s intentionally worded to be confusing.”

Charlie nodded and looked down again. “The Aheydrun can determine the value… and Vaggie said that I can do that now, because he’s lived here for six months?”

Moxxie shrugged. “If that’s what Prince Stolas said, it’s probably right.”

“Okay,” Charlie said. “How, though?”

“That’s the question. May I?” Arackniss asked, holding his hand out. Charlie nodded and passed it to him, and he took it, looking it over quickly. “Sinner contracts ain’t as ritualistic as Hellborn contracts. You know, we took the concept and… capitalized it, you might say. Assumin’ Valentino followed those rules, it’ll be something kinda ritualistic, but more like a password of sorts.” He waved one hand, thinking, and Charlie was suddenly reminded of the way Angel flailed his arms when he was trying to process his thoughts. “…say if, when Valentino first set the price, he took a piece of paper and drew some kinda symbol on it, then spoke the new value and burned the paper. From then on, he’d hafta draw the same symbol on the same kinda paper and burn it in the same kinda fire every time he reevaluates Tony’s soul.”

Moxxie nodded. “…I guess that would explain why he doesn’t do it very often.” He took the contract from Arackniss and started looking not at the text, but rather at the front, back, and sides of the paper itself. “I only observed Valentino twice, but that’s all I need to know that he’s the kind to simplify things wherever possible.”

Charlie looked between them. “…blood?” she suggested.

Arackniss thought for a moment. “…it would be the most cliche, so… it’d make sense if he thought’a that first.”

“Sinners really are obsessed with the idea of blood sacrifice,” Moxxie sighed. “But it’s the easiest way to transfer energy, so that makes sense.” He tilted the contract again. “The back of the paper is discolored, like something spilled on it. But he clearly takes good care of it. If the paper itself is enchanted, maybe he just cut himself open and bled on the contract itself.”

“What if we’re wrong?” Charlie asked with a frown.

“Then the contract will have blood on it. That’s about it.”

“…right. That makes sense.” She opened the drawer and pulled out the letter opener Alastor had insisted that they have for their office (which was funny because he always just opened envelopes with his claw anyway), a thin and curved knife with a simple dark wood handle and an ebony blade. Moxxie put the contract down, and Charlie placed the blade against her palm, lightly closing her fingers around it. She took a breath, and— “Wait, how much am I supposed to say his soul is worth?”

Moxxie and Arackniss exchanged looks. “…how much has Angel Dust made in his career at VoxTek?” Moxxie asked. “Less than that.”

Charlie understood—she really did!—but she felt her eyes misting up anyway. “But that seems so mean,” she complained. “I don’t think Angel could be bought with any amount of money, he’s priceless!”

Arackniss made a sound like he was surprised. “Sweet as that is, Princess, it—”

“Charlie,” she interjected.

“Okay, sweet as that is, Charlie, him being considered priceless the problem we’re dealin’ with,” he said. “It don’t matter what you say. It ain’t what you really think and it’s just breakin’ the contract. And if you lowball it, he’s gonna think it’s real fuckin’ funny.”

“Yeah?” Charlie asked, then, “…yeah, that’s… that’s true. Okay.” She knew how sex jokes worked. Nodding once, she almost cut her hand open, before Arackniss held his hand out again. “Ow! What?” Charlie asked, quickly moving her hand away as the knick on the side of her palm, which the knife split when she jumped, oozed a drop of blood that only fell on her pants because she moved back.

“It has to be as close to what he did as possible,” Arackniss said. “That means we need his… blood, or his DNA, or something, in addition to yours. If this is how he did it, he imbued it into the contract every time.”

Charlie’s nose wrinkled. “Ew.”

Moxxie threw his hands up. “How are we supposed to get that? We don’t have time!”

Fighting past the thoughts that the phrase Valentino’s DNA conjured in her head, Charlie sat up. “Oh! Oh, wait, no, I know!” She scrambled up and ran to the door, opening it and calling out. “Niffty! Niffty, I need you!”

Both of the men behind her made confused mutters, but Charlie ignored them as Niffty came scampering down the hallway and slammed into Charlie’s legs. The little maid wrapped her arms around one of the princess’s calfs, staring up at her with an excited smile. “I love to be needed,” she said throatily.

Charlie chose to ignore that. “Do you want to help save Angel?”

Somehow, Niffty’s eye grew wider. “YES.”

“Then I need a little bit of your collection,” Charlie said. “Specifically, I need just a bit of the specimen you gathered at Consent.”

Niffty blinked once, twice, and then gasped before she started giggling. “Be right back!” she trilled, running off.

Charlie returned to her seat, Moxxie and Arackniss still staring at the door. “Her collection,” Moxxie echoed flatly. “Do I want to know what she collects?”

“Bugs.”

“…uh-huh.”

Niffty was nothing if not efficient, running back into the office and hopping onto the desk to offer Charlie a little tuft of white and black fur. “Is this good?”

“It’s perfect. It’s okay if I destroy it, right?”

“Sure,” Niffty said. “It’s only a little bit of my sample, and besides, if nothing else…” Her face turned downright terrifying. “I can always get more.”

“Thank you, Niffty,” Charlie said, thinking again how glad she was that she had so much time to adjust to the force of personality that was Niffty.

“Uh-huh!” Still looking genuinely thrilled to have been helpful, Niffty hopped down, running out of the room again.

Arackniss watched her go. “…bugs,” he said, not looking away from the door. “So then, what’s that fur?”

“She stole part of Valentino’s ruff,” Charlie said. “It’s apparently part of his body.”

“…she did that at Consent?” Arackniss asked, something that sounded almost like respect entering his voice. “…she really is some woman, ain’t she?”

“She’s great,” Charlie said, squinting at the back of Arackniss’s head. She didn’t have time to unpack that. Instead, she checked between them for any more interruptions, then sliced her palm open, gathering the blood in her hand and dropping the fur into it. She thought for a second, and then said, “I, Charlotte Morningstar, current Aheydrun of the Contractee named herein, have reassessed the value of the Contractee’s soul and have determined its worth to be sixty-nine cents.” She tilted her hand, the blood trickling onto the contract before the fur tuft landed with a small, wet splat. There was a strange, undefinable sound, and then the blood began to vanish into the words of the contract themselves, even dragging the blood-soaked fur along with it. When she looked up, she noticed the other two staring at her. “…what?”

Moxxie blinked once, slowly. “…sixty…” He trailed off, shaking his head.

“I do understand sex jokes, y’know, I’m not exactly single, and I wasn’t wasting his opportunity to get that printed on a shirt,” Charlie said. “So… how do we know whether or not it worked?”

“It looks like it did something, at least.” Arackniss took off his hat, then ran his hand back through the fur that made up his hair. “Guess we’ll have to wait an’ see.”

“Right.” Charlie closed her hand around the cut in her palm, staring at the contract again. She was getting so tired of waiting. “Can you two do me a favor?”

The response was hesitant. “I… guess…?” Moxxie frowned. “Will this get me beaten up?”

“No!” Charlie said, hopping up. “Noooo no no no, it’ll be fine. Just tell people I had to step out for a minute but I’ll be right back.”

“Okay,” Arackniss said. “You didn’t tell us where you’re goin’, and we ain’t gonna stop nobody who tries to follow you.”

“That’s totally fair. Thank you,” Charlie said. “And… thank you, both of you. Seriously.” They both looked surprised, but she just grinned, offering them a wave before hurrying out of the office and down another hall to the service door.

I’m so tired of waiting. I’m not going to do that anymore. If you care about something, you fight for it, right? Right.

So that’s what I’ll do.

•••

It wasn’t ideal, but it was better than nothing. Angel didn’t keep a lot of normal clothing in his dressing room, but shorts and a tank top were better than nothing, and he pulled them on (skipping shoes, as they would be too loud) as he thought.

Vox had Alastor. Alastor was clearly in some kind of pain, judging by his shadow’s strange behavior and its disappearance. That meant Vox was probably doing something, and he wouldn’t be doing something just anywhere; he had an image to maintain, after all, and the only way he would publicly torture the Radio Demon would be if he was doing it for a television show.

I know Vox better than that. He wants this to be private. Personal. Intimate, even.

Angel snuck back out of his dressing room and took off, heading for the wall and quickly scaling it to disappear into the vents. He didn’t get to do this much, since he usually had eyes on him at all times, but one of the ways he’d become friends with Rocky over the years was finding opportunities to drop on the big lug out of nowhere. Angel had the building memorized, and he quickly traversed the vent system, heading up to the floor where the Vees kept their own private suites. He was familiar with Valentino’s, but he had never been in Vox’s, and when he pivoted direction he got his very first glimpse of the place.

“Okay, just— just stay here,” a voice said below Angel. God dammit. Vox’s assistant. Angel seriously couldn’t stand the guy and his sycophantic bullshit, and he barely even remembered his name even after knowing him for thirty years. Blink? Was it Blink?

Angel peeked in to see who he was talking to, and froze, though he shouldn’t have been surprised. Blink was holding his hands out placatingly and talking about how dangerous things were, while across from him sat… Vark. Enormous, sharp-toothed, wide-eyed Vark, Vox’s pet land hammerhead shark that had once gone everywhere at his heel until the creature grew too large to easily traverse the corridors. Now, Angel rarely thought about Vark—out of sight, out of mind, and all that—but of course he would be in Vox’s suite if he wasn’t swimming around in the giant fish tanks that seemed to stretch the height of several floors.

Vark made a noise somewhere between a dog’s yap and the sound a shark might make if sharks made noise, and Blink backed up sharply. “No,” Blink said firmly. “Sit. Mr. Vox wants you to stay here. He’ll be back. Okay?”

Vark tilted his head, and Angel smirked. It was the same look Fat Nuggets gave when he didn’t understand something, which was all the time.

Blink, like he was just satisfied that Vark was seated now, quickly hurried out of the room and locked the door behind him. Immediately, Vark stood up, then wandered to the door in a mild confusion before wandering back and then starting to meander around the room with no real destination in mind.

Angel took his eyes off the shark to, instead, look around the room as best he could from his vantage point. Vox’s room was exactly what Angel expected, all the same sorts of sleek style and dark colors accented with electric blue and red. It was clean and sterile in a way that put Angel on edge, and he knew beyond a doubt that this was not somewhere he wanted to be.

He was about to move away when something else caught his eye: a glimpse of red, so different from Vox’s that he couldn’t help stopping and taking a second look.

Alastor’s coat.

Not just his coat, either, but that was the first thing he noticed: Alastor’s coat, laid out on the corner of Vox’s bed near the foot, with such care that it looked like it had been smoothed over with hands. Next to it, his shirt and pants were folded with his standing collar, bow tie, and monocle, his shoes set on the floor nearby.

It was… almost reverent, and that made it fucking creepy.

Angel hadn’t found Alastor, but he had found his clothes, and he would think about how skeevy that was when he had even two spare minutes. There was no vent near the bed, which meant he was going to have to play this as carefully as possible, because otherwise he was losing an arm.

Carefully, Angel began unfastening the vent cover, but even with as quiet as he was being he attracted Vark’s attention. The shark swiveled and stared up at him with wide eyes, and Angel froze, staring back. There was no barking frenzy or any other noise; Vark just stared, his tail wagging back and forth slowly, looking for all the world like he was confused about how this visitor had come visiting but wasn’t too fussed about it.

“…you are, without a doubt, the best Vee,” Angel whispered. Vark wagged a little faster when he was spoken at.

Since there was no frenzy and it wasn’t like he could just hide again and make Vark forget he was there, Angel finished and pulled the vent cover into the vent itself before leaning out. Still, Vark watched him with concentrated interest, and Angel slowly lowered himself onto a round metal table and crouching before his socks could slip.

Angel looked around quickly, his eyes falling on a bag of treats. Picking them up, he showed them to Vark. “These yours, sweetie?” Vark perked up immediately. “Then I’ll tell you what,” he continued, keeping his voice as friendly and gentle as he could. He pointed at Alastor’s clothes. “I need those. You lemme get ‘em, and this whole bag’s yours. Deal?”

Vark blinked, following the line of his hand, then walked over to Alastor’s clothes. He sniffed the coat and then sneezed immediately, and Angel had to suppress a laugh; he knew he had gotten used to the Radio Demon’s intentional ‘stay away from me’ odor, but he couldn’t imagine how it would smell to something so hypersensitive.

Vark cast Angel a look that was almost plaintive. Angel snorted. “Yeah. Yeah, I need all that.” He would have sworn Vark sighed before he leaned forward and, to Angel’s shock, grabbed the sleeve of Alastor’s coat between his teeth. Angel almost told him to stop, but Vark wasn’t paying attention; he tugged it off the bed, then dragged it to the table, dropping the sleeve on the surface in front of Angel and wagging.

Angel stared at him. “…you’re a lot smarter than you look,” he said, pulling out a squishy meat treat that smelled like fish and tossing it gently. Vark immediately wiggled with excitement and snapped it out of the air, revealing his massive teeth and an incredibly terrifying snap of his jaw. Angel’s laugh was more nervous this time. “Oh my god you got a lot of… mouth… dontcha?” He cleared his throat. “Wanna get me the rest?”

It took longer than Angel would have liked, but it kept Vark happy and calm, so he stayed crouched while Vark brought him each part of Alastor’s attire in exchange for a treat until Angel had all of it gathered up and held against his torso in his third set of arms.

“Thanks, Vark. You’re a good boy,” Angel said. Vark leaned towards him, and Angel hesitated before carefully reaching out and rubbing him on the front of his head between his eyes. Vark purred, then wandered off, like he was happy to have done a good job and had officially lost interest now that he had been praised. Angel couldn’t be mad about it, and he climbed back into the vent, putting the cover back in place before anyone came in.

At least something went right.

It was harder getting around with his arms full, but Angel took his time to make sure he didn’t drop anything, carefully searching floors where he knew Vox did most of his work. His lack of direction and his desperation were just driving him into frustration when Angel didn’t see anything or hear anything, but he felt something… like the air itself was being disturbed by some kind of interference.

That, he thought. He didn’t know how he knew, but he did. He was sure of it.

Angel followed that strange feeling as it grew heavier, leading him to a strange room that seemed really big but only had an illuminated table and computer console right in the center. Angel assumed there was other equipment in the dark, but he couldn’t see a damn thing. It didn’t matter, anyway, because the interference had turned into the low sound of radio static that followed Alastor everywhere but was normally so quiet it couldn’t be heard over the other ambient noises. If it wasn’t for the fact that VoxTek was so silent right now, Angel never would have heard it.

Alastor was lying on his back in the center of that table, fastened down with metal shackles and either asleep or unconscious. Angel let himself out of the vent and, after ensuring there was no one around, hurried to the side of the table and assessed the situation. Alastor was bleeding from a series of thin metal rods that had been slipped into his body through incision that had been made in his muscles, the ends of those rods rigged up to wires that ran along the floor and into the console.

“Alastor…” Angel breathed, but the Radio Demon didn’t stir. He hadn’t really expected him to. He didn’t want to leave, but there didn’t seem to be a way to force the shackles open, since they were actually a part of the table.

Angel started moving to the console, but stopped, one wire in particular catching his eye. The skin around it was bloodier than the others, and it looked like it hadn’t been slid into an incision, but had instead been stabbed straight down into… into Alastor’s soul mark.

I’m gonna fuckin’ kill you, Vox.

Grinding his teeth, Angel went to the console and racked his brain with everything he knew about passwords around the company, and namely, the ones he knew Vox had used in the past. It took a few tries, but Angel finally got the proper combination of symbols Vox favored, a couple of sets of numbers that seemed to have some meaning, and the name Clifford that popped up in Vox’s security shit a lot (whatever that meant). With a beep, he got the controls loaded, and carefully combed the menus until he found the option to release the shackles with a metallic snap and the hiss of hydraulics.

Abandoning the console, Angel ran over to the table, carefully dropping the clothes next to Alastor’s legs and leaning over the other demon. “Alastor,” he whispered urgently, reaching out and gently stroking the deer’s hair. “Alastor. C’mon, Smiles, wake up.”

Alastor’s face twitched with pain, his smile strained even while unconscious, and it took him a moment to start opening his eyes. He jerked when he saw Angel over him, probably only registering a shape, and Angel moved back a few inches and waited. Alastor looked mildly unseeing for a few moments before his eyes slowly focused. “…am I asleep?”

“Why, y’feel like you’re dreaming?”

“…no,” Alastor said. He meant something else. Angel didn’t have time to ask.

“We gotta go, Smiles,” Angel whispered. “I gotta get these wires outta you. It’s gonna hurt and you need to not make noise. Okay?”

“Oh, goodie,” Alastor said weakly, immediately slipping into flippant business mode when he saw that Angel seemed to be focused and hurrying. He laid his head back and closed his eyes. “Quiet… as a church mouse, sha… I promise.”

“You ain’t never been in a church,” Angel accused, leaning down to slowly begin working the wires out of his arm.

Alastor hissed. “Well, they seemed very… quiet from… the other side of… town, in my… defense.”

“Pretty sure all mice squeak.”

“I… do not squeak.”

Angel threw down a second wire. “I got evidence that says otherwise.”

Alastor glared down at him. “You have no such thing.

Angel smiled at him, then went back to what he was doing. “I won’t tell. It’s my special knowledge, nobody else gets that.”

As another wire slipped out, Alastor drew a breath, then started speaking in a voice that was almost hesitant. “…Angel—”

“Don’t,” Angel cut him off, speaking as gently as he could but not looking at his face. “Don’t. Not right now. I know, we gotta— we’ll talk. I promise. But not now. Okay?”

Without looking at him, Angel couldn’t know what Alastor might be thinking. But, eventually, he just said, “…of course. You’re right.”

To Alastor’s credit, he did little more than hiss or grunt at the stabs of pain, and soon Angel had every wire removed except the one that had been stabbed into him. Angel moved up and laid one hand on Alastor’s chest, a second on his bicep, and a third on his wrist. “This is gonna hurt,” he warned.

Alastor turned his head enough to look him in the eye. “…I know.”

That sounded loaded.

Angel wrapped his fourth had around the wire and waited for Alastor’s nod before he pulled straight up, pushing down with his other hands to both hold Alastor still and leverage himself up. Alastor’s face contorted in pain, and Angel moved his hand from the Radio Demon’s chest to his mouth, clamping down over his lips to muffle his cry. As another hand wrapped around the bleeding soul mark, Angel leaned down, pressing their foreheads together. “Shh, Smiles, it’s okay. It’s gonna be okay.”

Alastor’s breathing was labored and stuttering, and Angel could feel the hot moisture of each exhale, the scrape of Alastor’s teeth, the occasional touch of his tongue…

“Come on,” Angel whispered before he could get any bright ideas. He had never seen Alastor so vulnerable, and this was absolutely not the time for anything but business. “I got your clothes. We gotta get you outta here. Can you walk?”

“Of course,” Alastor grunted, though he still needed Angel to leverage him into a sitting position. He then helped Alastor into his clothing as best he could, which ended up being slacks, shirt, suspenders, shoes, and monocle. Angel left the top two buttons of the shirt undone, and with Alastor’s current state, the collar, tie, and coat were out of the question. Alastor seemed to think the same thing, because he took them in his hands and hesitated before his face contorted in pain and they vanished into shadow.

“Okay. Come on, up,” Angel said, holding his hands out to Alastor. Slowly, the Radio Demon took them, clearly hyping himself up to stand.

“Where the fuck do you two think you’re going?”

Fear shot through Angel, and he felt Alastor stiffen. Angel looked up, and just at the periphery of the ring of illumination around them, he saw—

“Val,” Angel whispered.

He didn’t know how to describe the look on Valentino’s face. Angel had never seen it before. Slowly, he began to advance, his eyes on Angel. “You really have learned how to be slippery, haven’t you, amorcito? Can you imagine my surprise when I came back to your little holding cell and found you gone?”

“Val, I—”

“And then,” he interrupted, “I hear that someone broke into Vox’s room and removed a few… items. Did you think you were being slick, Angel Dust? Did you really think you would get away with it?”

Angel held his hands up, not looking at Alastor and silently begging him to run. “Val, don’t…!”

“Do not tell me what to do!” Valentino shouted. He reached one hand out, clenched his fist, yanked…

…and nothing happened.

Angel stared at Valentino, waiting for the feeling of a chain around his throat that would drag him to the ground… but it never came. It took a moment for Valentino to come to the same conclusion, and he murmured, “…the fuck…?” before repeating the motion.

Still, nothing happened.

Valentino was in shock. Angel was in shock. What happened? Where was his chain? Where had it gone? Why couldn’t he feel it?

After a breath, Angel decided it didn’t matter. Instead, he put his hands on the metal table, scrambled up onto its surface, and launched himself at Valentino. He heard Alastor shout something, but he didn’t look, and soon all he heard was an enraged scream as Angel dragged his claws through Valentino’s face.

•••

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