#not even thinking about how obviously extremely triggered I would get from that
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[Lio] Sorry just trauma rambling
(Significant animal death and traumatic grief mentions)
I think - the one thing. The one thing that really, truly drove the knife in, is that - my ex had the audacity to ask me to help them pay for an urn, which I did, willingly, because I cared, and because I felt I owed it to him after failing to save him. And yet, despite the vet promising to give them two paw impressions so that we both had something, anything to hold on to, I never, ever saw that.
It feels stupid and petty. A baby isn’t a print on paper. A baby isn’t an urn. He isn’t any physical item any one person can own. But - it’s just - the disrespect. The lack of being given even a shred of chance of closure. The lack of comfort I was given, the lack of care.
I can’t blame them entirely. They bought me food when I was laying despondent and alone in their bed and I couldn’t bring myself to eat anything because it felt wrong for me to eat when he couldn’t anymore. I would not have eaten if they hadn’t done that, at least not yet, I felt so sick mentally and physically, I felt like my lips would decay and fall off from the fact I tried to resuscitate him and failed. I thought I was never going to stop coughing up bile. They were kind enough to get me to eat.
They were kind enough to bring me to their therapist with them. (Although their therapist was fucking useless and just told me they knew ‘he would have been a beautiful cat’ as if that was helpful at fucking all.)
But it ended there. They didn’t comfort me at all as we surrendered his body to the vet. They didn’t comfort me at all when they came home from their family trip, back to their fucking house where I was, alone, where they left me with a goddamn surprise hospice job. And they didn’t know, I can’t blame them for that, they had no way of knowing, but the fact is still that I had to watch a helpless baby creature, that I cared for and loved so much too, that they left me in charge of, that I didn’t sleep for four days watching him every single night and trying to feed him and trying to help him and paying for vet visits and for delivery services to get tools to help him and begging my very kind friend to drive me places to try to help him - crashing and dying in my arms. And they ignored me. They barely said a word to comfort me. I know he was their baby too and they were dealing with other things but he died in MY arms after I didn’t sleep for DAYS and they asked me for MONEY for his URN to keep at THEIR HOUSE and I have NOTHING but a few pictures I cannot bring myself to look at to remember him by. And they gave me almost nothing.
Almost Everything else about this experience that could have possibly been traumatizing was. It was a nightmare. It was hell. My one kind friend was the singular saving grace and everyone else involved was an asshole at best, vets I called in a panic included. It even went so far as to trigger my clairvoyance psychosis because I had a hunch before we got him that it might be too early and something might happen to him and when it did my brain decided every ‘vision’ I had about anyone near me getting sick or dying was certainly true. I begged people not to leave the house. I begged my mom not to get another cat at her house. I cried myself to sleep thinking my uncle was dead because I had a dream he’d been killed when he went shopping.
I know we both suffered I know I know I know. But they got all those little things meant to help soothe their loss and let them move on and I got nothing but horrific nightmares and a fucking emergency vet bill and a paypal request for seventy dollars to buy my fucking ex a little statue for their house to remember the innocent creature I ran myself ragged to save wnd failed when they weren’t even there
I try to remind myself, all the time, that in the end the person he knew longest in his life was me. That there is no little cat toy or urn or paper with paw prints on it that means more to his sad story than me. I alone did everything I had the power to do to save him and I alone hold the memory of his struggling and his end, and I alone had the opportunity and love in me to tear myself apart to try to save him.
But fuck. Man. Would it have hurt anyone if my grief got any sort of consideration? At all?
I didn’t believe I could move on at all, for a week after it happened. I believed I would be stricken with the gaping wound of pain forever. None of my friends, well meaning as they were, were getting through to me - they hadn’t seen it. They weren’t there. They couldn’t judge my sins.
In the end it was Andy who got through to me. He told me: In that moment I was doing everything to try to be a healer. And sometimes, healers lose - but it all would be far worse if they never tried.
So I guess the moral here is thank god for my fucking headmates being there when the people who claim they care about you end up not doing that at all.
#liolog#good lord this is longer than I intended. My head hurts now.#Anyways. I’ve not thought about this for a good few months but someone I know on discord was mourning a cat who they liked online who#passed away and my stupid ass went ‘oh man that’s sad I’ll go read the post’#not even thinking about how obviously extremely triggered I would get from that#but whatever I’m going to try to sleep now.
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💢 At Each Other's Throats 💢
Spencer Reid x female! Reader
For the CM Kink Bingo Challenge 2024
Summary: A previous encounter means that you're not the biggest fan of Spencer Reid, and you go to some extreme lengths to prove that to him.
Warnings: 18+ MINORS DNI, Dom! Spencer, but not exactly sub reader , degradation (use of whore, slut), semi-public foreplay, arguing as foreplay etc, oral sex (m receiving, f mentions, too), face fucking, rimming, nipple play, rough sex/ rough play, spanking, slapping, spitting, choking, messy sex, creampie, multiple orgasms, mentions of painful sex/ pain play etc. some possible CNC triggers/ phrasing.
A/N: I couldn't find a gift of Spencer being bitchy enough, so everyone, please enjoy Kyle Orfman from Life After Beth. This one was a labour of love, if love was actually hate. It's 2am. This is obviously not edited, and may never be.
Masterlist || Bingo Board
You knew from reputation alone that you would have a hard time working with Spencer Reid. Perhaps it was the slew of child prodigy articles that popped up alongside his name. Maybe it was even just your preconceived notion of what men with three PhDs, a badge, and a gun were like. Maybe it was the fact that he'd written to you after one of your first professional articles was published in The American Journal of Forensic Medicine and Pathology and told you a piece you'd worked on for 18 months was just plain wrong.
Either way, you laid eyes on him, and the hatred was cemented. But fuck was he hot.
He had no clue who you were as his boss introduced you to him, looking between the two of you as if expecting good things to happen. You should've warned him.
“Spencer, this is Y/N. She'll be assisting on a few cases from this month onwards.”
His eyes glazed over as he ran your name through whatever roller index of memories he had stored in there.
“Y/N is a lecturer at the University of Virginia. She's going to be lecturing at the FBI Academy from September onwards-”
“You! You wrote an article, I wrote to you about it, did you get my le-”
“Yes, I got your letter. I believe you called my writing ‘juvenile’ and my thinking ‘wishful,’ and that if I had any actual field experience, I'd slowly understand how many mistakes there were in my writing.”
Agent Hotchner took an almost imperceptible deep breath in, trying to hide the fact that this was all new information to him.
“Well, here I am, Doctor Reid.”
The man in front of you gaped for a moment, letting his mouth hang open, closing after a few seconds only to open again. Perhaps you'd disorganized that index of his. You hoped you'd set the goddamn thing alight.
“Shall we get started?”
To say that you'd gotten off to a bad start was an understatement. Your start had been reversed over by a dump truck with no tires. It had been cemented into the ground with no chance of going anywhere but down into the pits of hell.
Which is, coincidentally, where you found yourself every time you had to engage Spencer Reid in conversation.
Your first impression of his looks - his incredibly good looks - was that he was even better looking when he was pensive, and unhappy, and being bitchy. He was positively climbable when argumentative, and you liked nothing more than ruining his day, if just for the fact that he'd angrily loosen his tie and pop open his top buttons, exposing the pale white of his neck, and his sharp collar bones, perfectly ready for someone to suck and nip at.
He was still an ass, however, and you couldn't bring yourself to sink to those depths.
Four cases in, and you hadn't agreed on one thing. You'd caught a serial arsonist, who he had demanded was most likely an office worker, but you'd countered with college student, and you had prevailed there. 1-0.
Then, unfortunately, you'd lost back to back cases with unsubs in the trucking industry, unfamiliar with and uninterested in the life of the Jack Kerouac type.
You'd even the playing field at last with a child abduction. And although you knew you'd both been keeping score, you were so genuinely happy for this case to be over. A child was safe at home, and you'd worked so well under pressure (something he had assured you would change your view of your personal forensic psychology theories). 2-2.
Of course, those were just the big leagues. You'd fought many petty battles, too, as the war waged.
You'd accidentally stolen his place on the jet, enjoying the long bench seat for a good few naps. A few times, he'd settled in next to you, trying to nudge you out of the chair completely, but you'd held your ground.
“This is my seat. Usually. There are like 10 other places on this jet to sit. Why does it have to be here?” He'd grumbled into your ear as you gently elbowed him in the side, accidentally, of course.
“There aren't assigned seats. Maybe you have control issues, Doctor,” you cut back, trying to avoid speaking too loud to avoid the ire of the group.
While you'd enjoyed bickering with - and intellectually besting - Spencer greatly, it did seem that the sentiment wasn't shared by those around you.
“You can't be serious, right now,” Morgan complained from a seat opposite. “You're seriously fighting over a seat, right now?”
“It's my seat, Derek, come on, you know it's my seat.”
The look returned to Spencer almost had you ashamed of your petty actions.
“I swear they're just taking every advantage to get closer and closer together. Next thing you know, she'll be sitting in his lap,” Emily said from the corner of the plane, so obviously not talking to you that you were almost offended.
“Ah, young infatuation,” Rossi replied, still ignoring you.
Reid slinked just slightly away after that, and you weren't sure if you were more annoyed at the comments themselves or the loss of his annoying companionship.
You wanted him to bother you because it meant you'd succeeded in bothering him.
You'd had more than your fair share of rather explosive arguments as well.
“You can't seriously believe that Thomas Edison did more for the field of engineering than Nikola Tesla,” he'd shouted at you at a bar after a case had landed you in paperwork hell, filling out forms and working into the late hours.
A drink had been suggested, a celebration after solving four straight cases in a row, and you'd gladly taken the chance to unwind.
“Spencer, we're literally sat in a bar decorated with multiple light bulbs. Look, there's one. Another! Astounding. Thank you, Mr Edison.”
“And none of it would be possible without Alternating Current, so yes. Thank you, Mr Tesla.”
Your teammates had long since abandoned you to your petty bickering and fighting amongst yourselves. They'd stopped getting involved when Penelope had tried to mediate your discussion about Doctor Who, which had quickly devolved into New Who vs Old Who.
You didn't even care strongly either way, you just cared that he did. And however he felt, you were sure as hell ready to take up arms against him. Because it was so fuckimg hot watching him lose his shit.
You were a grown woman. You could admit that to yourself. You likely wouldn't admit it to anyone else, even if it was as clear as day that you found him unbearable attractive at times. You sure as hell knew that it wasn't a one-way street, from the way his eyes strolled across your body each morning.
You wondered if there was a section of his brain that was dedicated to memorising everything you'd said, done, and worn since he'd met you. You hoped there was.
On your fifth and final case with the BAU team, you felt unmatched in your annoyance.
You were still drawn with Spencer for case breakthroughs, and you felt the need to beat him once again just to nail the point home. He was just stubborn enough to see a 3-2 win as a landslide victory for himself, though you were absolutely going to frame it that way yourself if you managed to be the one to crack everything.
All sense of teamwork and camaraderie was off the table.
You had a murderer to catch.
Three women, beaten, assaulted, and tied up. He'd shorn their hair but bagged them up so they were unseen. Then he'd placed the bags on display. The unsub was caught between two extremes, hatred of his victims, and gentleness, protecting their dignity in death by covering them up.
Obviously, you and Spencer had to decide which side of the debate you were to land on.
“I think we're dealing with a killer without remorse here. It's easier to explain the covering, the dressing of the women as a ritual rather than guilt.”
He'd finally played his cards, and now it was your turn to passionately wipe them from the table.
“Remorse? He's cut all their hair off and beat half of them so badly we needed dental to identify them. And in case you've forgotten Spencer, half of them are prostitutes.”
“You're saying he can't feel remorse for killing prostitutes?”
“That is not what I'm saying. Don't twist my words."
“Well, of you'd said something that wasn't nonsensical, I'd have a better chance of understanding what the hell you're trying to say!’
With every line you'd stepped closer and closer to one another, like two boxers in a ring, sizing each other up before a fight.
You wanted to take his tie and strangle him with it. You wanted to pull him down for a kiss and force him to shut the hell up.
“Reid, Y/N, both of you take five,” Hotch called sternly from the other side of the room. Guiltily, you both broke away from one another, his hand brushing your side as you took a step back, almost as if he'd meant to grab you before Hotch stepped in.
Probably to remove you from the room.
“Take five?” You said, mustering all the disappointment you could as you silently pleaded to stick around.
“Go back to the motel and get some rest. If you're going to argue like this, I don't need you at the precinct, and I certainly don't need you on my team.”
You blanched at that, almost taken aback by the harsh words as you silently nodded and quietly walked towards the door, letting it shut behind you.
Spencer stayed behind, and though you couldn't hear his arguments, you knew he was attempting to reason with Hotch, as well. It evidently didn't work as he stormed out of the room behind you.
He looked half like a kicked puppy, half like an angry school kid who'd just been scolded by a teacher.
“Don't look at me like that, this is your fault,” you muttered as you walked away from the room.
“What? How is this my fault?”
“If you weren't so goddamn infuriating, we'd be able to get some actual work done.”
You marched off in the direction of the exit, but he caught your shoulder before you made it that far.
“You're blaming me? This is my job, Y/N, not yours. You get to go back to a cushy little office after this is done to teach the people that are going to end up doing the paperwork that consists of only 2% of our job.”
His finger jabbed at your shoulder as he said the words, and you had to resist the temptation to grab it.
“Doesn't feel too good to be criticized when you're just doing your job, huh, Spencer?”
His brows knitted together in a deepened scowl and he took a step forward.
But there were eyes on you, and whatever confrontation this was, you didn't want to act it out in front of an office full of cops.
You turned and walked away again, down a seemingly abandoned hall to what looked to be an empty storage cupboard, flinging the light on and waiting the three seconds it took him to catch up with you.
“What's your problem?” He said, joining you in the cramped closet.
“You! You're the problem! You're infuriating, and annoying, and most important, you're you!” You poked his chest back, harder than he had earlier, quietly reveling in the feel of his body under your fingertip.
“Oh, I'm sorry. Would you like me to be someone different? Someone who worships the ground you walk on?” He said, discovering sarcasm for the first time since you'd been introduced.
“Sure, Spencer, if you can take tour head out of your own ass long enough to worship someone else, then be my guest.”
With a single push he crowded you against the wall, a hand above your head locking you into position as his other hand held your hip, his own hips joining you at the wall as you sucked in a breath.
“You're begging to hear praise, right now, Y/N. Do you even hear yourself?” He asked, whispering the words directly into your ear.
“W-Well, you have me pressed up against the wall like some fucking caveman that needs to breed or die.” You spent half the time you were talking trying to compensate for the stutter, trying not to look weak, that you totally missed the words that came from your own mouth.
“You think I want to have sex with you?” He asked, chuckling awkwardly, even as his hand on your hip began rubbing circles, his head hanging lower, just inches away from your mouths meeting.
“I think you'd love nothing more,” you said, finally lifting your hands to his hair and tucking a lock behind his ears. “Such a shame I won't be crawling into your bed.”
“Is that a challenge?” He asked, and you were taken aback for a few seconds.
“You want me so fucking bad, you're trying to convince yoursel-”
With a swoop, he cut you off, his lips meeting yours. You gasped and allowed his tongue to enter your mouth, but you came to your senses quickly. You kissed back with all the anger of the last month and all the attraction that had built up since you'd joined the team. Your tongue fought his, your hands tangled in his hair as his pulled them out, pinning them against a wall. But you slipped free and grabbed him again, grabbing the tie you'd wanted to choke him with earlier and not letting go.
His lips were soft, and his body felt hot pressed against you, and you hated how good he was at all of this, how your body responded to his, how each time you pulled away it was with a small whimper as you begged for more.
“I knew you wanted me,” he said, between kisses, grabbing your face and tilting it up as he returned his tongue to yours.
“Oh, shut the fuck up, you kissed me first.” His hands trailed up your hips, untucking your shirt as he pushed his hand under, his cold fingers sending a trail of goosebumps along your skin as you shuddered.
“I kissed you because you begged me to,” he said, his fingers caressing the bottom of your chest as he tried to press your bra up further.
You were about to argue back when his lips met yours again, and you were lost in the haze of arousal, leg lifting to his hip to better allow him space to settle against you.
You grew wilder in your passion, neither of you giving in even for one second as you writhed against each other, begging for satisfaction while denying that you'd ever wanted each other in the first place. Just as it became unbearable, your hands slipping to his belt, ready to pull his cock free and take it, the door opened again.
“Reid, Y/N,” Morgan said from the doorway as you hastily jumped away from each other.
You pulled your shirt down quickly, and Spencer stepped behind you, covering up the tent in his pants as you stared guiltily up at Derek Morgan.
“Hotch sent me after you to give you the keys to the SUV,” he grumbled, making no comment on anything that happened.
“We were just, um, we were just-” your brain fought for an excuse, but you'd left your brain behind somewhere between joining the BAU and foreplay with Spencer in a closet, so words escaped you.
“You were just making out in a closet. It's okay, we all know,” Derek said, turning to leave.
You jumped up, indignant now he'd brushed you off, and followed him out of the closet, an equally shocked Spencer trailing behind you.
“What do you mean you all know? All know what?” You said, stomping back into the office.
“That you two are into each other. It's why Hotch sent you away earlier. He didn't want to see the two of you going at it,” he said, pressing the car keys into your hands.
“We are not into each other,” Spencer shouted back at Morgan as he stalked off, and you glared at him to shut his mouth. There was a crowd forming, and you still didn't need that attention. Not when your hair was matted from seven minutes in hell with Spencer or when his hand had, once again, settled on your hip, pulling you closer into him.
“Let's go,” you huffed, and finally left the building with Spencer right behind you.
You didn't talk for the rest of the drive home, even as your brain flooded itself with images of him taking you in the back of the car, your lips around his dick as he drove, him pulling over to bend you over the hood.
You went straight to your separate rooms when you got back to the motel, though you swore that the walls were thin enough that he surely heard you pleasure yourself, fingers sinking into yourself. You weren't sure if he, too, had his hand wrapped around his cock, or if your brain was just now imagining whatever it liked to spur you on.
Imagined or real, his moans were delicious, a maddening mix of frustration, exasperation and desperation, whimpers and groans, and small growls until you yourself were cumming, and letting yourself sleep.
You avoided talking, all talking, until the end of the case, even as your head replayed his infuriating words, his moans and the rustling sound of his fingers pressing your shirt up. You refused to talk to him to give his coworkers the validation of arguing with him once more. You weren't into each other.
You simply wanted to fuck him. You didn't like him as a person otherwise.
In avoiding him, though, the small taste of release you'd sampled in the closet had your softer parts deliriously wanting more. As much as you hated Spencer, you needed him so bad.
You'd given him the cold shoulder but he'd returned it just as quickly, and you were more annoyed not talking to him than you weren't.
Your last case wrapped up, and you decided it was time to give him what he so obviously wanted. A conversation.
You sat yourself right back down in his seat as you got on the jet and laid down, pulling his blanket over yourself as you took up the entire space.
The others shook their heads at you as they walked on, Spencer taking up the rear. His eyes met yours, and he scowled, and you couldn't help but wonder if he'd look like that fucking you, so stern and angry.
You sighed and pushed onto your side as he stood over you.
“That's my seat.”
You smiled in success as you looked over your shoulder.
“I'm tired, I'm going to sleep.”
“But that is my seat-”
“Spencer, you've sat on every seat on this damn plane before, that wasn't your seat until last month, now sit down, shut up and let me rest,” JJ exploded and you suddenly felt bad for drawing him into your argument. Or you did until you sat up a bit, and he sat himself right down where your head had been.
“Spencer!”
“I give up…” JJ groaned from the table seats, pulling headphones over her head and shutting her eyes, and the others made to ignore you similarly.
Not one to be beaten, you pushed the book in his hands off his lap and laid your head down again, now cushioned by his legs.
“What-” his voice squeaked as you shut your eyes, too, and made yourself comfortable. He didn't push you off, or, heaven forbid, start talking to you again. Shockingly, he adjusted to the position quickly and resigned himself to pillow duty for the six hour flight.
You, too, shocked yourself by how fast you fell asleep. You woke up with his hands in your hair, stroking your head as he read, book in one hand, you in the other. His hands felt wonderful, raking through your long locks, brushing each errant hair off your face.
“Spencer?” You said, voice still thick with sleep.
His hand shot away, and you almost regretted not pretending to sleep for longer, sure that he'd have gone on if you hadn't said anything.
You straightened and cleared your own throat as you stretched, sitting quietly as you listened to the flight landing announcement.
“Congrats, Y/N, you've successfully finished your time with the BAU,” Rossi said from his seat opposite you, strapping in for the landing.
“And you haven't been shot, kidnapped, or slapped. That's gotta be a first, right?” Emily joked from the corner.
You smiled quietly as you strapped yourself down, scooting even closer to Spencer now to get your belt fastened.
Still, you couldn't resist the urge to mumble a retort.
“I'm sure Spencer thought about it a few times,” you sighed, a breath of resignation releasing from your lips dramatically.
The others chuckled, but Spencer sat silently next to you until the jet landed.
He stayed quiet as he began to pack his things, but it became clear quickly that he was dragging everything out. As the plane emptied, you shot him a curious look, not daring to speak until you were the last two on the plane.
“You're being slow today.”
“I've never thought about shooting you or kidnapping you,” he said, voice low and quiet, even though you were alone.
“It was a joke, Spencer,” you started, so sick of him taking g everything so seriously. You made to walk past him, but as you did, you felt his hand on your waist pulling you back as another hand came hard and fast at your ass.
“I wasn't finished speaking,” he said as his hand ran over your butt, soothing the pain he'd just delivered. “I have thought about slapping you, though.”
With that he grabbed his bag and stalked off the jet, not bothering to cast another look behind him.
Two could play at that game.
In about the most childish was you could muster, you ran ahead of him, staying three paces directly in front of him as he tried to overtake you. You moved when he moved. You sped up when he sped up. You even stopped a few times, so he'd run into you.
“Y/N, cut it out.”
“Make me,” you said, throwing a withering look over your shoulder.
He didn't wither.
Instead, he grabbed your arm and marched you all the way through the FBI building, down to the parking lot, and into your car. As soon as he had you safely in the driver's seat, he closed the door, pulling off your visitors' pass.
“I'll return this for you, no need for you to dally.”
“Fuck you,” you spat out the window as you started the ignition.
“It's been a pleasure,” he said with a grimace.
“No, it hasn't,” you said back, wondering how long you'd spend in jail of you just mowed him down then and there.
“You’re right. It hasn't,” he said, leaning down and into the window so you were now eye to eye.
“Really? It seems like you got a lot of pleasure out of spanking me earlier. You were certainly experiencing a lot of pleasure when you pushed me up against a wall last week. If it wasn't pleasure, there was definitely something long-”
“Long?” He smirked.
“And hard in your pants.”
He leaned in through the window, his breath fanning against your cheeks as he whispered into your ear.
“That was my gun.”
“And I certainly won't be helping you fire a load,” you said, starting the ignition and pushing him back from the window as you drove away from the FBI and away from Spencer Reid.
It infuriated him that you'd gotten the last word. You'd spent a month with him and hadn't even given him a chance to show off his good qualities, and then you'd left without giving him a chance to prove himself.
And, in doing so, you'd told a blatant lie.
There had been two people in that closet, two people with tongues desperate for contact, eager for battle. You'd been moaning just as much as he had when his hands found your nipples.
But you'd gotten to drive away without listening to his retort, and it was killing him.
He sat and seethed at his desk for a while, waiting for the sense of relief that you were gone to wash over him. This had been what he wanted for weeks. Why was he now so discontent? Why did everything feel wrong?
Abandoning paperwork he knew wouldn't be needed until at least next week, Spencer found your address in the team files, wrote it down, and left his desk.
When you got home, there was nothing waiting for you.
It was annoying. You'd spent the last month constantly on the go, always with more work, more cases, more paperwork. You'd killed any apparent gaps with Spencer.
You could still feel his hands on your ass. You hated to admit it, but in your short acquaintance with Doctor Asshat, you'd grown fond of having him around as eye candy. When he wasn't being annoying (talking, breathing, or generally just being), you could quite happily imagine his head buried between your legs, his tongue lapping up every drop of cum you had to offer.
There were definitely better things he could be doing with his mouth, in any case.
Your body felt hot, itchy, and neglected as you got home, running a shower immediately and stepping in.
The water was hot, and the room steamed up faster than you expected. You washed away the fatigue, and you washed away the dirt of a month of cheap motels..
Just as you were about to wash away the memories of Spencer Reid and his stupidly skilful tongue, the doorbell rang.
It wasn't unusual for you to get visitors at 10 pm, but usually they announced themselves.
You stayed put in the shower. It was probably a package you'd ordered, and it could honestly wait.
The ringing, though, didn't stop. Whoever was at your door was insistent. First, the door rang to the rhythm of jingle bells. Then, they moved on to Fur Elise. When they got to Flight of the Bumblebees Levels of bullshit, you couldn't stand it anymore.
You wrapped a towel around you and pulled the door open wide.
“Sp- mm?” You said, shocked to see him there, but completely floored by his appearance, and more importantly the two hands he'd planted on your cheeks as he pulled you in for a hot, hard, and fast kiss.
You pushed him off with a hard slap to his face, and stalked further into your apartment, knowing he'd follow closely behind.
You heard the door slam shut as he made to grab you again, but you stayed just out of reach.
“What the fuck are you doing here?”
“I came because neither of us will move on without this.”
“Oh, you need me so much you won't be able to move on if you don't fuck me?” You scoffed, expecting a sarcastic answer to a sarcastic question.
“Yes,” he said, and your shock at his earnestness gave him the moment he needed to grab at you again.
This time, though, the tiny towel that had been holding your dignity in place dropped to the floor as Spencer Reid pinned you against the wall.
“Already fucking bare and wet for me, how well-behaved.”
“Go fuck yourself!” you said, even as his hands cupped your breasts, grabbing and pulling both of your nipples, making you moan.
“See, your mouth is being a bitch, but your body is being a whore.”
“Just fuck me won't you? No need to run your mouth.”
“I think we're finally in agreement on something,” he said, pushing you to your knees.
“What? Sp-”
In one quick swoop he released his cock from his pants and wrapped a hand around all of your hair as he slid it down your waiting throat.
As much as you protested, your mouth was wide open, and your hands wrapped around him just as eagerly.
Holding your head still, Spencer began to talk as he fucked your throat.
“There we go. That's exactly how I've needed you for the last month.”
You glared at him as you sank your nails into his thighs, gagging on his cock as he picked up his pace.
With two taps on his leg, you requested a moment, and he quickly pulled his dick out of your mouth.
You coughed quickly, then spat out all of your accumulated drool before looking up at him.
Part of you wanted to force him down next to you, to make him taste your cunt the way you'd thought about earlier. The other part, the larger part, was excited about him using you.
He grabbed his dick and slapped your face with it, returning your earlier hit. He was waiting for you to open up again so he could cum down your throat and leave.
“Open,” he demanded.
You didn't comply, but you stuck out your tongue, lapping at his tip slowly as you sat on your hands. He held his breath as you kissed the underside of his shaft, making his way to his balls. You reached them and finally sucked them into your mouth, making sure to look up and make eye contact with him as you toyed with his private place.
He didn't argue or complain. Instead he fisted a hand into your hair and dragged you to your bedroom.
Divesting himself of his pants and shirt, he sat down and, still on all fours, pushed your face back into his crotch. Perched on the edge of your bed, he held his cock up and served himself to you.
“Well? Get back to it, Y/N.”
Your tongue found his cock first as his hands massaged his balls, playing with them gently as you licked all the way to his tip then buried yourself between his asscheeks. You licked at the skin between his ass and balls, you tasted every inch of him, and you grew angry that he still hadn't done this for you.
Against his wished, you rose and spat on his cock, before squeezing it hard.
“Spencer, are you going to fuck me or are you just going to ruin my makeup?”
“You look prettier with spit coating your face than you've looked with any lipstick,” he said as you pushed him down onto the bed and grabbed his cock.
Straddling his waist, you were surprised he.let you sink down onto his cock without so much as another word. You felt him fill you up, one inch, then another until you sat fully sheathed on top of him.
And then he flipped you over so he was back in control.
“Son of a bitch,” you muttered as he pulled out and thrust back in.
“You wanted me to fuck you, I'm fucking you.”
You wanted to argue but all you could do was moan yes as he set a furious pace, thumb and forefinger pinching your clit as you bucked into him wildly.
You couldn't stand too much of this, knowing that you wanted to at least outlast him. You wanted to tell him how pathetic he was for cumming first, you wanted to gloat that he'd wanted you more, that he couldn't resist breeding your hot wet cunt. You knew any more of this, though, and you would instead be on the receiving end of those same taunts.
Pushing against his chest, you used the last of your strength to flip him over again. He struggled, though, stronger than you were expecting, and you rolled together like that for a few moments.
You almost went crashing to the floor as he fought for control, but he pushed a foot off the bed and held you up with his lower body strength. The new position though forced his cock deeper, to just the right angle, and when he thrust into you again, you did something you'd never done before during sex.
You screamed your pleasure.
Your orgasm ripped through you, as painful as it was pleasurable, and you grabbed Spencer Reid by the neck and forced his tongue to meet yours.
He couldn't complain, too busy moaning about your hot, wet, and now tighter cunt to worry about whether he should be kissing you.
He pulled back and picked his pace right back up, but this time, you resisted less. Hooking a hand under your legs, he pressed your legs up, pushing his stomach and chest down just above your own as he moved slower but harder.
You wondered if this was what other wen talked about when they said they wanted someone to beat their pussy up, to use them until they couldn't stand. You didn't think you could even think about walking again for the next month as he spread your knees apart and pinned them to the bed, unloading his cum as deep inside you as anything had ever been.
You didn't even know your body bent that way.
Panting, he collapsed on top of you and buried his head in your shoulder, mumbling and muttering to himself as he came down from his ecstasy.
He didn't pull out. He barely even softened as he kissed across the expanse of your throat, thrusting shallowly with each nip, until your body couldn't take anymore.
He picked a spot and sucked, and licked and bit and soothed as he ended one round, and began another.
“Spencer-” you said, gasping as he sat up, his cock once again standing at attention, filling you still.
“No. Stop. Don't talk, we're not good when we talk.”
You nodded and pulled him back for another kiss, wrapping a hand around his throat and pressing hard as he moaned and groaned into you.
Still wet and slippery and sensitive from your first attempt, neither of you lasted long, falling to the bed when it was all over with a grunt of overexertion.
“That was…” you said, stopping there, for once totally speechless.
“That was good?” He supplied, but just good wasn't enough.
“Yes,” you agreed, though, not willing to let your cunt rule your mind when around him.
Anymore, at least.
“We should… we should probably never speak again,” you said, even as your hand reached out for his, fingers tangling.
“Of course. I'll leave, and we won't ever speak again,” he said, stroking your hand with his thumb, bringing your clasped hands to his mouth and pressing a kiss to your hand.
“You haven't left yet.”
“I haven't.”
“I have nowhere to be tomorrow,” you said. “You don't…”
“I won't leave yet. We might as well enjoy this,” he said, propping himself up on his elbows as he looked over your naked body.
“We should definitely just get this out of our systems now. What's the harm in that?”
“I agree. If we're committing to a one time thing, we might as well go all in.”
“Exactly,” you said.
“Exactly,” he parrotted.
Exactly a year later, the members of the BAU received invitations in the post to your wedding. Because the both of you had convinced yourself that that one time had never ended and never had need to.
#cmkinkbingo2024#spencer reid#criminal minds#reiderreplies#spencer reid x reader#reiderslibrary#spencer reid fanfic#mgg#spencer reid smut#criminal minds fanfiction#criminal minds fandom#spencer reid criminal minds#dr spencer reid#spencer reid fanfiction#spencer reid x reader smut#spencer reid x you#spencer reid x y/n#spencer reid x self insert
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second best |1| hoshina soshiro
PART 1 | PART 2 | BONUS: PART THREE
DISCLAIMER: this fic has a detail that hasn't been mentioned in the anime yet. it isn't a big give-away but if you are sensitive about that kind of thing, please do not proceed. pairing: hoshina soshiro x f!reader genre: slight angst, comfort, childhood friends to lovers, a bit of that miscommunication trope snippet: hoshina soshiro always ranks second at everything in his life. god forbid he falls behind in the bid for your heart too. word count: 3K trigger warnings: author's note: this fic has two parts - part 2 will be posted a week from today :) likes, replies, and reblogs are always appreciated but please do not repost or steal my writings. this is quite long, but i gotta make you guys work for it. i have also set up a taglist for the second part and the other fics or drabbles, please sign up if you wanna be tagged! as always, feel free to let me know what you think or give me a prompt by sending me an ask here!
hoshina soshiro can claim with extreme conviction that he rarely regrets the decisions he has made so far in his life.
from the time he has set his sights on taking the aptitude exam necessary to be recruited in the anti-kaiju defense force, to following captain ashiro mina to support her as the vice-captain of the third division, to religiously adhering to his daily routine of working out even during his off days so he can stay in peak condition - everything he's done is driven by soshiro's lone motivation: to rise and come on top.
unfortunately, as he sees you walking in the hallway of the training building with his brother, soshiro realises that this is one of those rare occurrences where he hopes he gets a do-over.
it was barely 6 in the afternoon so there was still light from outside; the rays of the setting sun penetrating the transparent windowpanes cast an orange glow to the furniture in soshiro's office. it made him remember how he used to always be assigned as the student to clean the classroom back in junior high school: he would sweep first then rearrange the chairs before closing the windows and drawing down the curtains. he would rush up to the rooftop, in time to watch the sun dip below the horizon. he would stay for a few precious minutes, dreaming of a chance to get out of their town. he was fifteen then.
soshiro shook his head a bit. he decided that today - of all days - will not be when he will have a trip down memory lane. yes, despite the number of times he would get reminded of his past today, he refuses to get sidetracked.
the floor is eerily silent, save for the momentary opening and closing of doors; soshiro is aware that almost everyone has left, flocking to the local izakaya not too far from the base to celebrate. he had half the mind to prompt himself to hurry up in order to make it to the get-together on time. the long and gruelling application process took three months before the vetting could begin, but finally, the third division of japan anti-kaiju defense force honoured its new officers that morning. as the nominated head of the selection committee, he oversaw the entire thing, and at the end, he could not help but to feel confident that their force would become stronger from here - this year their roster of applicants boasts high-profile names like that of the very daughter of jakdf's director general and the young master of the prestigious izumo family.
okonogi, sitting in front of him at his office, was sorting the personal forms of the recruits, a big stapler in her right hand. "i can take care of this, vice-captain", she said to him, "they cannot miss you there."
soshiro smupled to his swivel chair, obviously fatigued by the task he and okonogi had been trying to finish for half an hour already. fighting and defeating kaiju is the main part of the job, but handling the paperwork proves to be as challenging. "right, make sure the headquarters get this by the morning along with the report of all their numbers -" the sound of footsteps nearby interrupted soshiro's train of thought.
there were three loud knocks and the door opened, a man with the same eyes as soshiro peeping inside. even okonogi glanced over her shoulder to identify who the intruder is. soshiro stood up.
"just wanted ta drop by before i head back ta himeji", hoshina soichiro's undeniable accent dripped. spotting the huge pile of forms littering the desk, he commented, "seems like ya are a little preoccupied though."
"hoshina fuku taichou, good evening." your voice was firm yet jovial as you greeted him, the kansai inflection rolling off your tongue. you appeared beside soshiro's brother, still wearing the same standard-issue uniform you wore during the event several hours ago when you were sworn in as a new defense force officer. the outfit is snug on you - soshiro had noticed at the ceremony earlier, but up close the top looked almost skintight, the skirt coming up a little above your knees. soshiro can be a high-ranking official within the force, but he is also a man. if only briefly, he stared. "aren't ya going ta the party?"
taken aback that you would drop by his office, it was out of his mouth too fast he couldn't stop it - "how about ya? what are you still doing here with him?" soshiro responded pointedly at you, throwing you the same query but not answering what you asked him. it was too late to take it back; he sounded like he was interrogating you about your presence with the captain of the sixth division. soichiro winced; soshiro pretended not to see. "i- i was just thinking ya went with the officers on the way there", he added, calmer this time.
"oh, i was just catching up with hoshina-kun", you replied without missing a beat. soshiro doesn't know if the accidental force in his question just seconds prior did not intimidate you at all or you simply ignored his tone. "i mean with soichiro-kun. considering ya are hoshina too", you chuckled. soshiro stole a glance at the man at your side while maintaining an empty expression. he found his brother smirking at him; soshiro willed himself not to picture soichiro as an ugly kaiju with a butt for a face.
okonogi who is now attentively eavesdropping on your conversation caught your attention. "pardon for the bother, hoshina-san. we'll be off now."
for an instant, it looked like you were waiting for soshiro to say something in response. to say what, he doesn't know. the eye contact between you and him held up for a moment but broke as quick as it began. tension prickled in the air briefly then ebbed as you turned away from soshiro. "i'll see ya at the party, vice-captain", you gave him a bow before exiting the room. soshiro wanted to stop you; he didn't.
soichiro sighed. "it was nice seeing ya, 'lil bro", he addressed soshiro, his hand patting the latter's shoulder once, twice. "i have paperwork ta worry about too so as much as i'd like to, i won't be able ta attend your division's party. just in case ya want ta know." soshiro didn't look like he had a crumb of interest to know about his brother's occupational responsibilities; he shrugged soichiro's hand off.
soshiro saw you standing outside, leaning on the wall, when he ushered his brother out. "i'll be driving her to the izakaya though", soichiro informed him. "ya should visit our folks when ya have the time. ya should come home sometimes", soichiro continued, a hint of concern evident in his voice. when soshiro did not respond, surprisingly the older hoshina did not look a tiny bit disappointed. instead, soichiro put on a charming smile and waved at okonogi. "okonogi-chan, see ya around!" he tossed a playful wink at her.
soshiro merely watched as you and soichiro walked together, your pace matching his. a few meters away, he saw you listening intently to something soichiro was saying - he is too close - and although he is not within earshot to hear what is being said anymore, he knows it is another one of his brother's bad jokes. it looks like you were trying to suppress it, but a smile was about to dawn on your lips. soshiro felt sick to his stomach all of a sudden.
the party was already in full swing when soshiro arrived - everyone is hungrily feasting on the expensive wagyu beef, drinks flowing endlessly from the bar. everyone is enjoying themselves; even captain ashiro mina can be seen having small talk with the newly sworn-in officers who were eagerly taking notes from her.
you had easily made friends with the other rookies who are now sitting next to you; it was thanks to your group that this event was planned - after enduring long sessions of strenuous physical training every day of every week, you all deserved a night of everyone just gathering to have a good time. soshiro seems to be exempt from the festive atmosphere though.
he picked the seat next to his captain, who greeted him with a curt nod. he proceeded to grab the mug of beer served to him; the first sip registered a sharp bitterness through his mouth but soshiro relished on the flavor as it overtook his senses.
"everything alright?" captain ashiro from his side asked without lifting her gaze from her own drink. "you are being -" she paused, carefully searching to find the right words, “uncharacteristically quiet.”
soshiro picked the glass of beer again, and when he was about to put the lid on his lips, he could sense someone’s intense stare locked on him. years of being the vice-captain gifted him with equal parts instinct and paranoia so he could not help but scan the room, only to find you, sitting across the room, watching him with a curious expression.
a rowdy group of rookies surrounds you; they are high-fiving each other, laughing at their silly pranks, not minding that all of you are squeezed together at a crowded circle. soft music in the background swelled as everyone cheered and clinked glasses.
soshiro's eyes remained fixed on yours, lasting for what he felt like forever. the buzz of chatter dulled to a distant hum, fading into an almost white noise. his heart raced as he felt his breath catch and his mouth go dry. the corner of your lips curved into a smile and maybe it is the alcohol in his system, but he is certain his cheeks are flushed now.
"huh", captain ashiro lowly exclaimed. soshiro quickly snapped a glance at her. "you talked to her yet?" she asked him. ah, she caught his little moment with you.
soshiro was on the verge of playing it cool and putting on an act; he was about to outright lie to his captain by saying "talk to who?" as if he had no idea what she was referring to. he settled with silence. he was grateful his non-response only earned him a sigh from the captain who did not press the topic any further.
"to you newbies, congratulations!" captain ashiro raised her glass, still half-filled with alcohol. her voice rang out over the place, everyone's conversations immediately falling quiet. "may the third division always be victorious in our battles to come", she recapped her speech.
the party showed no signs of slowing down. hibino kafka, a recruit in his thirties has been the centre of intrigue that has spanned for weeks now. hibino ossan - as what the others nicknamed him - had revealed in a bathroom conversation with other male rookies that he grew up with captain ashiro. ashiro mina likes dried squid; ashiro mina used to raise pets in grade school - everyone consumed any and every tidbit of trivia hibino disclosed about the usually stoic and serious third division commander. soshiro was among those invested in the rumor and you knew why. for a while, you also wondered how he would react once the rest of the troops learned about your own past with their vice-captain. would he deny it? or would he brush off any potential gossip that may arise from the revelation? if everyone discovered your shared history with hoshina soshiro, would it make him want to reconnect with you?
“you lot will start duty monday next week, but tomorrow will just be another workday for vice-captain hoshina and i”, captain ashiro said, having stood up from her seat, preparing to take off. “no, you can stay”, she said to some of the newbies who have started to get up too.
“nah, captain, why don’t we bring them along to help us file all the tedious paperwork?”, soshiro interjected in his familiar upbeat tone. the crew bursted into snickers; captain ashiro gave soshiro a perplexed look, obviously puzzled about the sudden shift in his mood. testing her theory, she looked at your direction.
captain ashiro couldn't make out why, but you were giggling at whatever your seatmate had said, elegant hand covering your mouth, eyes crinkled. she understood soshiro then - she was not foreign to feeling uneasy inside when she sees someone so physically near someone she cares about after all. "let's go, hoshina", she tucked her pity for the vice-captain away.
"do you guys think they are dating?" a particularly tactless rookie sitting at your table had asked immediately after captain ashiro and hoshina were out the sliding doors.
"i bet they're not", you blurted out a little too soon, a little too sure. you did not mind clipping your accent, your kansai-ben thick and heavy. your fellow officers looked at you, expecting an explanation for your outburst. "i mean -" you stuttered, "that would be awkward, i guess."
"you know to think of it, you're from himeji too, right?" a few more recruits have started to listen in on the exchange. these people can smell the truth off me, you thought. you wanted to smack yourself in the face.
"we went ta the same high school together, that's all", you admitted, feeling backed in a corner. tomorrow when you get questioned for this imprudent behavior, you can probably blame it all on the alcohol. "and grade school", you continued, loose-lipped now.
you still liked wearing pink bows in your hair when you met him. an only child of kind parents, you never experienced having to ask for something you like; you were doted on and spoiled so you were reasonably upset when a young hoshina soshiro did not give you the time of his day. your family has just moved to hyogo shortly before that, and you were anxious to make friends; since your early age, you had made it your mission to make soshiro acknowledge you.
"you dun wanna play with me, because ya are stupid", you told soshiro-kun once. "oka-san said all boys are stupid", you had the nerve to elaborate after he pouted at you, his unkempt bangs sticking on his sweaty forehead, his clothes dirty from training all day.
"yer pretty", he responded and you felt the blush crept up on your cheeks. "pretty annoying."
"come on, spill some tea!" someone's palm connected with the table, jolting you out of your trance. "we have another hibino-senpai situation on our hands!" they declared, grabbing you by the arm and shaking you a bit. if it was meant to encourage you to tell more childhood tales between you and the vice-captain, it worked really, really well.
"he's always had that haircut even as a kid", you said, misinterpreting the kind of story your companions wanted you to tell, judging by their disappointed looks. “i- i don’t know what else to tell you guys”, you held up your hand in surrender.
“do you have a crush on him?” you choked on your drink, caught off guard.
vexed at his absent-mindedness, soshiro was walking back to the izakaya place alone when he heard the commotion. he is going straight to bed once he gets back to the base, but he would have to retrieve his uniform jacket first from his seat earlier.
“you totally do, don’t you!” it stopped sounding like a question and more of an accusation you could not deny. “you like hoshina-san!”
“i -i do, yes... but what of it, huh?" he couldn’t see you but he would recognize the soft timbre of your voice anywhere. soshiro felt like a victorian gentleman getting a glimpse of a woman’s ankle for the first time listening in on the uproar of cheers after your confession.
“the three of us attended the same high school, soichiro-kun was a grade ahead”, you said. soshiro froze. you are talking about his brother. “he has always been good at everything, t'was hard not ta like him.”
soshiro closed his eyes, attempting to steady his breathing. he always had his suspicions - for the ceremony earlier his brother even took a day off his busy schedule as the commander of the sixth division to attend as a guest. he should have known.
last year, soshiro’s squad fought a lizard-type kaiju with a fortitude of above 8. like the reptile, a cut made on any of its limbs was useless due to advanced regeneration. a fractured rib, extremely bruised arms, and a dislocated shoulder were what it costed soshiro to win against the monster. his bitterness threatening to consume him, he cannot believe that you confirming his worst fears would hurt more than that fatal experience.
of course, he said to himself. it’s not like he can fault you for liking soichiro - everyone did. as the firstborn son, their father always had favored him. soichiro has been the more skilled swordsman between them; he was the golden child, charismatic and talented with an effortless charm - like moths to a flame he would attract people, and even in his silence he would overshadow soshiro.
soshiro didn’t stand a chance against his own flesh and blood.
he was a teenager when he dreamed of running away from the constant but inevitable competition he had with his brother. scouted for the third division, he relished on the freedom. but how do you escape the reality of the one you love loving the one person you could never measure up to?
#hoshina soshiro x reader#soshiro hoshina x reader#hoshina soshiro#soshiro hoshina#hoshina x reader#kaijuu 8 gou#kaiju no. 8#kn8 x reader#kaiju#hoshina#dont worry guys#i will make them kiss in the end#hoshina soshiro fic
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early tit shows request
I already posted this in the community tab but wanted to make a separate post so it can be shared more widely.
TLDR I’m very photosensitive and have tit tickets for November 3rd in Chicago. I would like to compile a list of the flash effects in the show and when they are before I go, so I can know when to look away. If anyone else would find this useful, I can share the list publicly. I'll put the rest under a cut because it's very long and I want any discussion via reblog chain to be legible:
why i need help:
As some of you may know because I bitch about constantly, I have chronic migraine, and one of my symptoms is photophobia that ranges from moderate to severe Literally All Of The Time. On a good day I’m able to hang out in a dim room wearing my tinted glasses and experience no light related pain but even on my best migraine days I still find very bright, flashing, or flickering lights to be very painful to look at or generally exist around. I bought a tit ticket fully knowing there would likely be flash effects in it because WAD did, many of their videos do, ii and tatinof probably did, I don’t remember, and literally every stage production I have been to in the past year did, except for an orchestra, if that counts as a stage production 😂. I literally would not be able to leave my apartment if I avoided everything that triggers my photophobia considering the Literal Sun is one of the biggest offenders so I am really not looking for people to tell me to just not go or whatever. Obviously I hope that my migraine resolves by the time my show comes around (like at least breaking down into individual episodes instead of one incredibly long migraine would be nice), and it’s possible it will, since I haven’t actually gotten to try the most promising treatments yet bc insurance bullshit, but I expect to still be dealing with this two months from now.
how you can help:
So, it would be really helpful if anyone was able to tell me about the flash effects in the show before I go. Ideally, I would like to know how many there are, how extreme they are, how long they last, and MOST ideally, approximately when in the show they happen so I can cover my eyes and look away beforehand (I’m thinking, like, “after they do abc they flash the lights,” not timestamps, since I think that would be much easier for everyone involved to remember. I know this will probably involve spoilers, I don’t mind, I’m currently planning to look at spoilers for the show). I know this is not something people with normal eyes/brains/optic nerves normally remember after shows (even my closest friends who are genuinely trying have failed to warn me about flash effects before) but I am hoping through the power of crowdsourcing i can put together a semi-complete guide to When To Look Away At Tit For Photophobic people. I can share that doc if there’s any interest in it and anyone who is able to “test drive” the document before my show would be very helpful. I’m also willing to keep making changes to the document after my show, if that’s something people would find helpful. If it is though I would really appreciate hearing from you- even if it's just an anon or something, because I'm not going to do extra work if I don't think it will reach anyone who needs it. I'm sure I'm not the only person who's planning to go to tit and just suffer through any flash effects, but I don't know if this post/the document I make will reach any of them (does anyone know if there's an accessibility/disability community on phan twitter??). My tentative plan is to share the document regardless, since it doesn't take much extra work from me, but if this is something that would benefit you please reach out so we can make sure it benefits you too.
a hopefully helpful guide to flash effects:
Another challenge is, quite frankly, most people are very bad at even noticing flash effects if they’re not photosensitive. I get it, as a newly photosensitive person I was genuinely confused about why I left across the spiderverse with such a bad headache, because nothing in it looked like a “flash effect” to me. Some things that have triggered my photophobia before that people may not think of as “flash” effects include: the snow effect in stardew valley, candles (flames in general create a very flickery light), glitch/static editing effects, the sort of stuttery/laggy way video games look when your graphics card is bad, and video that flips through photographs/backgrounds very quickly (this is worse the more different the colors/etc in the photos/backgrounds are from each other but even if it’s done in a more stopmotion kind of way it still bugs me at low FPS. It’s like the video game thing, I’m not sure if there’s an actual word for that). Another thing that commonly bothers people (personally it doesn’t hurt much though it can make me a bit motion sick) is sort of swirly “hypnotizing” gifs.
From the set photos, I think any flash effects would most likely come from the light/rope/wire things, those just look perfect for some kind of sparking/lightning effect which I imagine would be very obvious and easy to spot. The video screens could probably also be a problem but if they’re all at standard screen brightness, unless they all start being flashy at the same time, they’re a much smaller portion of the audience’s field of vision so I don’t think they would be as problematic (though I would still like to know about them!). My worst fear is that they’re playing something really staticky for the entire show, though I hope that at my distance from the stage, the static would be small enough to just kind of blend into gray and not bother me much.
in conclusion:
Yes, this could all be solved if people stopped putting so many fucking flash effects in their shows. I am begging for the entire world to realize that nine times out of ten they are Completely Not Worth It and just putting a “some flash effects may not be suitable for photosensitive viewers!!!” warning on every piece of media ever created does not make their media accessible (hey Netflix! Wanna give me a timestamp to skip or am I just expected to never watch Stranger Things?). But here we are.
#lou is loud#dnp#dan and phil#phan#terrible influence tour#migraine#photosensitivity#photophobia#<- mostly for my own organization
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New Simulated Universe Update (SAHSRAU btw)
Can you tell i made a d in english? because I didn’t. Sorry about that. Anyway, I had some brainrot about how busted our blessings would be in sahsrau SU, because, like, everybody and their mother in that au would basically throw everything they love out of the window for us to throw a single glance at them. Also, this takes inspo from other works. Yeah, yeah, I’m a plagiarist, I know.
Let’s say you play Honkai: Star Rail. You’re a big fan- you’ve been playing since launch, have an excellent team comp, and have cleared all of the story and side content.
However, the game’s been… in a content drought for a while, roughly about 3 months without a single update- not even a patch or bug fix! That’s odd. Hoyo would have normally announced at least a single character by now, wouldn’t they?
And, getting extremely bored, and with nothing else to do, you seriously consider taking a break from the game. After all, there’s nothing to do.
Except farm. And you’re getting tired of even that.
But just then, a miracle happens- or at least it’s a miracle to you. The game finally gets an update. You’re confused- they should have announced that in some shape or form, but you also get excited. What have they added this time?
And then you find out, much to your dissatisfaction and/or disappointment, that they just doubled down and just added in a new version of the Simulated Universe, called “Simulated Universe: New Game +” to “fix” the lack of content- they’re just making you do SU again- but hey, they also added another Aeon along with it, so that should count for lore!
So you go and wait for it to download and open it up.
When you do, you’re notified in game of a text message from Herta. Uncharacteristically, its tone is noticeably off from how she normally acts- practically begging you to please please please come to her office- because apparently, she’s dug up some info on this new Aeon that’s apparently been around for the longest time, and she’s finally managed to obtain enough data to create a simulated version of THEM- thirsty for something to do, you oblige, using a space anchor to reach her. Surprisingly, there’s only one available for your use.
Once you actually arrive, a cutscene plays, depicting Herta, once again very much out of character, grabbing on to the trailblazer’s arm and practically dragging them across the space station to her office, the widest grin on the puppet’s face. “Huh,” you think to yourself, “She must have struck gold if she’s acting all crazy like this.”
Once you actually make it inside- Herta finally gives you a complete explanation of what’s happening- she’s “finally” dug up enough information about this Aeon that you “should already know” and that you should also “start immediately.”
You do, and you’re met with a new path for blessings- Guidance, and holy cow, is-is that 300% break effect and 180% damage and 50% crit rate boost? What? That’s insane- what is the dev team doing with their game???
Obviously, you pick it- it’s the only option available, and even if there were other options, this one would likely be the best.
As you and your party traverse through the station, and obtain absolutely absurd blessings- all damage dealt will have the character gain a shield equal to half of that permanently, follow up attacks trigger twice, all characters gain a self-revive- it’s really bad balancing on Hoyoverse’s part, and it’s the greatest power trip you’ve had while playing this game so far. But it’s also getting boring. One shotting everything isn’t exactly the best thing to do on loop, and the game throws you a bone in the form of finally meeting the Aeon that Herta was talking about.
However, before that happens, Herta pulls you aside- and you can’t believe it, but she’s even more out of character now- hell, she’s fangirling, saying stuff like “I’ve been waiting for this moment ever since I was a baby” and urging you to give the Aeon the absolute utmost respect- and to never forget to do it.
As it turns out, the so-called “interaction” between you and THEM is just dialogue describing how you will always serve and praise them for all eternity- and you seriously take into consideration getting whatever the hell the writers have been smoking over the past couple months to put this down on paper and call it a good idea.
Weirded out by very strange design choices, you decide that it’s time for a break after all is said and done, and close the app.
If this is the legitimate road that Hoyoverse is going down, you’re worried about the future of the game.
You should really be more worried about your future, sweetie. After all, they’re all working so hard to bring you to them through that screen.
They love you. So so much.
#yeah this is very self indulgent#I suck at writing#sadge#but anyway the actual tags#sahsrau#self aware au#self aware hsr#yandere hsr#yandere hsr x reader#yandere honkai star rail
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Day six of fic NaNoWriMo, obligatory sugar daddy Tim/sugar baby Kon.
"You're bluffing," the thief says flatly.
"And you're fucking stupid if you think this is the play that's getting you out of here," Kon snorts, tapping a foot against the floor. "C'mon, man, give it up. I've got plans tonight."
"Use the artifact!" the alleged "Mark" yells at the thief holding it.
"Right!" said thief says, then . . . pauses, and looks embarrassed. "How do I . . . do that?"
Kon looks incredibly unimpressed. Tim empathizes. Deeply.
"You guys need a minute there?" Kon asks, raising an eyebrow.
"Shut up!" Mark snaps at him. "Just use it, Lisa!"
"I thought you said no names–"
"Use it!"
"Uh, right!"
The thief chucks the little clay goat at Kon. Tim is genuinely embarrassed for this entire crew.
Kon catches the goat one-handed, which is kind of a stupid idea, but letting it smash on the floor admittedly wouldn't look great. People over property, obviously, but Kon also historically has issues with property damage and letting the bad guys smash up ancient artifacts is not the best plan in general anyway. Especially given how often said ancient artifacts have ghosts or curses or apocalypses locked inside them.
"Lisa!" the thieves all yell in horror.
"Was this the whole plan?" Kon asks, making a show of inspecting the goat. "Like, was this it? I can come back later, if you're still cooking on that."
Tim muffles a laugh with a snort. Kon definitely caught it, though, judging by his smug smirk.
"Shut up, wannabe!" the thief still holding a gun to Tim's head snarls, which reminds Tim he should be pretending to care about the gun currently being held to his head. Honestly, he would in Gotham, but the only way this moron is shooting anybody is by accident.
. . . admittedly, that is a concern, given the trigger discipline issue. Hm.
"Killing me would probably count as felony murder, just so you know," Tim mentions, glancing around the thieves. "Which you could all be charged with, not just whoever actually shot me. Plus I'm pretty sure stealing objects of cultural heritage from a museum is a federal crime."
He's completely sure of all that, actually, for obvious reasons, but he has to at least pretend to be a civilian here. Like, some effort needs to go into that illusion, if for no other reason than to avoid a Bat-lecture from Bruce or, worse, a Bat-"I'm not mad, just disappointed" from Dick.
Or, worst, Alfred might make disapproving shortbread instead of approving jammy dodgers for post-patrol tonight. That'd be really unfortunate. Tim could really use an approving jammy dodger tonight. He's already going to have to write up a very annoying incident report of this situation as it is, and also deal with the mortification of getting his neck saved by a Super. There is no dignity in that. At all.
He is definitely never telling the team his secret identity. At least not until he's absolutely positive Kon hasn't inherited any of Superman's eidetic memory, anyway. He's ninety-nine percent sure he hasn't, but that last percent is a definite concern right now.
"No one asked your opinion, brat!" Mark snaps, though a few of the other thieves now look extremely uneasy. Tim makes another mental note about their crew's obvious lack of prep time and general planning and continues to be embarrassed for them. Museum robberies in Gotham are themed events with careful research and preparation involved, and frankly usually involve more thoughtful effort than whatever gala they may or may not be crashing did. Smash and grab is for convenience stores and small-timers. And these guys are definitely small-timers, but this is equally definitely not a convenience store.
Metropolis is so weird. Why anyone even bothers doing petty crime in it at all is beyond Tim. Maybe they're just banking on Superman being more concerned with natural disasters and alien invasions and rescuing cats from trees, which is a valid strategy. Same theory as splitting up and making a cohesive group into multiple targets.
"He has the idol!" Lisa hisses, glaring at Kon like she's not the one who threw it at him to begin with. Tim gets a gun barrel jammed into his temple again. He has no idea why Trigger Discipline: What Not To Do thinks that's, like . . . a productive thing to do. At this rate he's going to get a bruise or something.
Well, he's not actually doing it hard enough to hurt, admittedly, though Tim does keep expecting it to. The guy looks like he's putting his back into it, but the impacts continue not to actually hurt, so Tim supposes he's just trying to put on a show here.
Well, at least he's putting in some effort, Tim supposes. That's something.
"I really do have plans tonight, you know," Kon reminds them, raising an eyebrow at the thieves again.
"I would appreciate you delaying those, actually," Tim mentions. "If you don't mind, I mean."
"Oh, yeah, don't sweat it, dude," Kon says, waving him off. "These people are annoying but I'm not gonna ditch out on you here, that's not your fault."
"Don't ignore us!" one of the unnamed thieves yells. "And give the idol back!"
"I have no idea why you would expect me to do that," Kon says.
"I'll shoot!" the thief holding Tim threatens, jamming the gun barrel into his head again.
"I mean, I'm pretty sure that dude was right about the felony murder thing, so maybe don't?" Kon says, inspecting the little clay goat again. "Hm. This thing is actually kinda cute."
"It is, isn't it," Tim agrees. "I thought it looked like a kid's toy."
"Oh yeah, I can see that," Kon says, squinting assessingly at it. "Like those chunky toddler ones?"
"Yeah, like those," Tim confirms with a nod. "Fisher-Price, Duplo, that kind of thing."
"I'll take your word on that one, man, my 'toddler' stage only lasted about half a day and I was sedated for it," Kon replies in amusement. Tim seethes internally and thinks very uncharitable thoughts about Cadmus.
"I said I'll shoot!" the thief holding him says furiously, tightening his arm across Tim's neck. It's still not actually enough to hurt, but again, Tim appreciates seeing a little more effort. "Give us the idol, you stupid brat!"
"I'm trying to help you out here," Kon says, looking exasperated. "You're just making shit worse for yourself the longer you keep this up. Put down the gun and let the guy go, you'll get a way lighter sentence."
"Fuck you!" the thief shouts. "The power of the idol will protect us!"
"The idol that I am currently holding, you mean?" Kon says, hefting it meaningfully. "The one that is in specifically my possession and not yours?"
Tim does understand that talking people down is the preferred approach and Kon can't actually super-speed this problem away, but Kon could at least pretend to be taking this seriously. From his perspective, there's a civilian hostage with a gun to their head and an angry criminal with their finger on the trigger, but he's acting like there isn't any danger in the situation at all.
Tim gets the posturing thing and the general "cooler than thou" attitude Kon likes to present, but it's definitely not making any of the thieves calm down. Like, not at all is it making any of the thieves calm down.
This incident report is going to be very annoying to write.
"It's not yours!" Lisa shrieks at him.
"You literally threw it at me," Kon says. "I only have it because you threw it at me. Also pretty sure it's not yours either, given all the screaming alarms and broken glass and the smashed-in wall I am currently standing in the wreckage of."
Tim starts wondering if maybe he should revisit his "tripping" plan. He doesn't really want to pull any Robin-esque moves in front of Kon, but also dying would really fuck up all that hard work he's put into being Bruce's emotional support sidekick. Also two dead Robins in a row could not possibly end well. Especially in such a stupid way. Especially in Metropolis.
"You don't even know what you're holding, you idiot!" Lisa fumes.
"A toddler toy, I thought we established," Kon says. "'Doopler' or something?"
"Duplo," Tim corrects, internally calculating tripping angles.
"That one, yeah," Kon amends. "Doppo."
Tim, resignedly, thinks his determined commitment to pointlessly fucking up is adorable. Also still hates Cadmus and has the irrational urge to buy him a teddy bear or something, although Kon would definitely just think he was fucking with him if he did.
Maybe he could just smuggle one into his room and disavow all knowledge of its existence. That's an option.
"Give us the idol now!" the thief holding Tim snarls, his face twisting in rage.
"Yeah, no," Kon says.
"You little–!" the thief starts to yell, and then his trigger finger slips. Tim knows this because the gun goes off right next to his ear.
And right against his temple.
Half the room screams and the thief yells and drops the gun, recoiling in horror. It goes off again as it hits the floor and a bullet shatters a historically-significant vase the way one should have shattered Tim's personally-significant skull.
What the fuck?
"Shit, sorry, that was probably kinda loud," Kon says apologetically, wincing a little but otherwise looking completely unphased by all of that. Tim blinks, very slowly, and attempts to restore his resting heart rate. It's not a particularly successful attempt.
"Yeah, kinda," he says.
"Sorry, sound waves are harder to block," Kon apologizes, pointing at his own ear with his free hand, and Tim remembers the other's total lack of concern for any threat to civilian life this whole time and realizes that was because, from Kon's perspective, there wasn't any actual threat.
Huh.
Well, that explains why neither the gun barrel nor the being choked thing actually hurt at any point, doesn't it.
"Oh," Tim says, looking down at the floor that they are, in fact, all still standing on. "Tactile telekinesis?"
"You've heard of it?" Kon says, looking pleased.
"Once or twice," Tim says, managing not to say it too dryly. Kon looks even more pleased. "I didn't know you could use it like that, though."
"Practice makes perfect," Kon replies smugly.
#timkon#tim drake#kon el#conner kent#dc robin#superboy#young justice#young just us#rinfic#long post#wip: obligatory sugar baby kon
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Good Omens Season 2: Some Thoughts (and also Screaming)
First, /screams
Second, obligatory disclaimer that this meta contains MAJOR SPOILERS for all six episodes. If you somehow have managed to remain virginally unspoiled, look away now, scroll past, or add "good omens s2" and "good omens spoilers" to your block list, as those are the tags I have been using for all posts and reblogs.
Third, /screams more
Okay okay okay. Deep breaths.
Anyway, so, uh, how about all that, huh? First, the good thing about the tone of the season overall was that it felt considerably darker and more adult, in a good way. We didn't have the precocious kiddies, the kitsch and literally-comphet Anathema and Newt, the so-clever narration, etc. All that was gone, which makes sense when you consider that a) the end of last season saw them reboot into an entirely new universe, and b) the fact that God has gone silent is, in fact, a major plot point for the season. We don't have Her slyly telling us the story, or indeed anything, and everyone is left to make their own judgments and take their own actions. Which, obviously, gets them into a lot of trouble, especially when Metatron (the Voice of God, aka someone acting in the belief that they're speaking for God and therefore doing terrible harm) swoops in with the ultimate buzzkill at the end of episode 6. But we'll get to that.
The downside was that the main, present-day plot (hiding Gabriel in the bookshop and trying to get Nina and Maggie to fall in love) was fairly thin, felt stretched out and at times weirdly paced, and otherwise existed mostly to get us to That Ending and the setup for season 3. But the ending was so damn good (if obviously, very painful) that I can't be TOO mad, not least because we spent six episodes with them just making absolutely no pretense about the whole thing being as incredibly homosexual as possible. I'll be honest: I did not think they were going to actually, explicitly go there. Neil Gaiman has been so consistent about "your interpretations are valid and you're welcome to read it however you want, but the only canon is what's on screen," which I think is frankly a good thing (not least since the Neil GAYman Cinematic Universe is consistently very, very good to us queers), that I just... didn't quite think they'd pull the trigger. Sir Terry is dead and can't have active input, this is based on a book published 30 years ago, maybe they didn't want to make it LIKE THAT... etc. I certainly hoped, but I didn't really think they would.
Uh. Well.
As I said in my various semi-coherent liveblog posts, I honestly don't think there was a single straight person in the entire season, among both major and background characters. Aziraphale/Crowley and Maggie/Nina are the obvious paralleling couples, but Beelzebub (using "they" pronouns and addressed as "Lord" despite presenting as femme/femme-adjacent) is clearly nonbinary and therefore also queer, and the countless gay/queer side characters were just /chefs kiss. From Job's son making a sassy pass at Aziraphale, to the random Scottish goon with Grindr on his phone (which he then gives to Aziraphale, because what is subtlety), to the interracial couple with the trans spouse at the Pride and Prejudice ball, there was just a lot of casual, unremarked, non-story-critical queer representation visible at every turn. It's like the NGCU saw the bigots wailing about Sandman season 1 being extremely gay and went CHALLENGE ACCEPTED, LET'S MAKE GOOD OMENS 2 EVEN MORE GAY.
God bless.
Obviously, Jon Hamm as Amnesia!Gabriel stole the show (he was SO fucking funny) and it was also incredibly fun to watch Miranda Richardson repurposed as a scheming demon. Nina Sosanya also reappeared as Nina the coffee shop owner, which leads us into the Maggie-and-Nina subplot. They're obviously, wildly, incredibly clearly an analogue for Aziraphale and Crowley themselves, but they're also each, crucially, a mix of both. On the surface, Maggie is Aziraphale: the plump, blonde, earnest, sweet-natured one owning a slightly dated book music shop and somewhat clueless about emotional nuances, while Nina is (also on the surface) Crowley, the hard-edged dark loner who doesn't want to open herself up to people or be spotted caring. But emotionally, Maggie is Crowley: the one openly pining, clearly besotted, only wanting to hang around their crush and do whatever they can to make themselves useful, while Nina is Aziraphale. Interested but reticent, attracted but conflicted, trapped in an abusive relationship with a demanding offscreen "lover" (Lindsay/Heaven) who tries to constantly control and shame them without ever offering much, if anything in return. By the end, they bring themselves around to what Maggie/Crowley are offering, but by then, well. We've got a lot more problems on our hands.
As I also said in my earlier posts, this entire thing has always been a metaphor for religion, queerness, and what religion -- especially abusive, fundamentalist, organized religion -- does to queer people, but they really cranked the FUCK out of that metaphor this season. Aziraphale is guilt-tripped, controlled, and shamed for his attraction to Crowley at every turn. He is torn between his imagined duty to Heaven, in all its ignorant, uncaring, bureaucratic, gratuitously cruel system that he still insists on seeing the best in because he can't bear the alternative, and the chaotic and sometimes grey but genuinely more good morality that Crowley offers him. (Can I just say, we were explicitly shown that the two of them together doing "just a little miracle" are more powerful than Heaven AND Hell combined.) And at the end, he's told that the only way he can be with Crowley -- what Metatron explicitly blackmails him with -- is if they both go back to heaven, submit themselves to the cruel system again and give up everything that has made them who they are: their home in London, their human friends, their reliance on each other, their independence, their own ways of doing things. You can be queer in this (religious) framework, but only the limited, watered-down, controlled, controllable, constantly-under-supervision kind of queer, which relies on both you and your lover "converting" back to the true faith. And if you don't cooperate, they will literally kidnap you, lie to you, manipulate you, take you from your soulmate, and force you right back into doing the one thing (destroying the world) that you never, ever wanted to do in the first place, because in their minds, that is still better than this. It's for your own good.
Ouch.
And the thing is: that's why the ending a) hits so hard and b) is so fucking painful, because of course Aziraphale agrees. He has no conception of being able to defy Heaven on his own; he has always, always needed Crowley for that. In the flashbacks, when Aziraphale is faced with an order from Heaven that he desperately does not want to carry out (such as letting all Job's children get killed), he still relies completely on Crowley to "outsmart the rules" and find a better way. Crowley is A Crafty Demon; that's what he does, and so Aziraphale rationalizes it to himself that therefore that must be fine. Even in season 1, when he really didn't want the Apocalypse to happen but initially thought it was his duty as a good Heaven footsoldier, he relied on Crowley to talk him out of it and allow him to do what he really wants instead. That's their whole dynamic in a nutshell, as exemplified in that scene in episode 2, where Crowley tempts Aziraphale with the "pleasures of the flesh" while sprawled on his back in Ravish Me mode like the giant walking gay disaster that he is. (Sorry, buddy. That beard. Can't do it.) Everything that Aziraphale's existence is, that makes him who he is, that he loves and cherishes the most (in this case, food and wine) comes from Crowley. Everything else is just background noise.
Throughout the season, what we see is Aziraphale increasingly coming around to the fantasy of being with Crowley. He's coy and flirty; he talks about "our car" and expects Crowley will let him (which he does); he wants to have a Jane Austen ball and for them to dance together (oh my heart); he even thinks, at the crucial moment, that the best way for them to be together is to go back to heaven just like they were in the beginning, once more perfect angels, as if those entire six thousand years of struggle and grief and pining and separation and falling didn't happen. And Crowley -- poor, poor, brave, devoted, heartbroken Crowley -- has just heard for the first time in said six thousand years that actually telling the person you love how you feel is an option. Maggie and Nina tell them point-blank that their whole stupid plan failed because people aren't chess pieces who can be moved and automatically achieve the desired result. And of course this gobsmacks the dearest and dumbest Ineffable Husbands, because they can't conceive of anything else. People are chess pieces in the Great War of Heaven and Hell; Aziraphale and Crowley themselves are chess pieces who have been desperately trying to get out of being moved by external forces, but that doesn't change the fact that that's what they are. They don't have volition or agency aside from that which they can sneak for themselves in brief and stolen moments. That's it.
Until, well. It's not it. They discover that this whole would-be war is actually an elaborate ruse to cover up another angel-demon romance, that of Gabriel and Beelzebub. (I'll be honest, I'm 99% sure they did this storyline because they saw the fans crackshipping them, but I appreciate a fictional narrative that values and incorporates its fans' input, rather than trying to constantly "trick" or "outsmart" them or "do what they don't expect.") And Gabriel and Beelzebub get to be together, but only by leaving their world forever. They have to desert their homes, their structures, even their own identities, and never return. And Crowley and Aziraphale are so rooted in their "precious, perfect, fragile" life in their little corner of Soho, with their bookshop and their Bentley and their dining at the Ritz (which they didn't get to do in the end because METATRON /shakes fist), that that just doesn't work. Neither of them can conceive of doing that. So Aziraphale thinks "go back to heaven and try to make the terrible system do some good and take what we can in terms of being together" and Crowley just... pours out his heart. He's ready to fucking propose. He barely stops himself from saying something to the effect of "I want to spend eternity with you." He begs, he pleads with Aziraphale to go away not in the literal sense, but the emotional/metaphysical: to finally break this toxic dependence on Heaven and tell them once and for all where to stick it. And because he is desperate to make Aziraphale understand, he finally throws all caution to the winds and recklessly, desperately, adoringly kisses him, the one thing he's wanted to do for ages and...
Gets. Shot. Down.
Ugghhhhh. I'm suffering all over again. Aziraphale wants him, hungers for it, for them, and yet he's been so abused and so conditioned by Heaven (he's still blithely repeating to Crowley's face that "Hell are the bad guys!") that he just cannot accept that kind of desperate, blind, limitless, lawless affection. He even forgives Crowley for this "transgression," just to really twist the knife, and Crowley just can't take it, can't face up to how terribly this has all gone up in flames, after he went to heaven trying to find the answer for Gabriel's situation. Gabriel, who he fucking hates. Gabriel, who tried to kill the angelic being he loves (and for which Crowley has transparently never forgiven him). And yet at one pouty puppy-eyed look from Aziraphale and a warning that whoever is harboring Gabriel might be in danger, Crowley leaps headlong into the Bentley again and rushes to the rescue while "Good Old Fashioned Lover Boy" is blaring. He stoutly protects Gabriel; he does a miracle to disguise him; he lets him have hot chocolate and stay in the bookshop; he guards him from the literal demonic horde outside. All because of Aziraphale. That's it. And then, it still doesn't work. Not only that, Gabriel's absence and decision to forego Armageddon gives Heaven the one tool they finally need to take Aziraphale away from him.
I repeat: Ugghhhhhhhh.
(In a good way. Ngl, I love this angst. This is the kind of angst my brain Thrives on, the Thematic Parallel Romantic Character Arc kind. Nom nom nom. But also: AGONY.)
I also need to talk about Aziraphale driving the Bentley, aside from the obvious metaphor of him being in Crowley's home while Crowley is in his. Last season, we had the "you go too fast for me, Crowley" scene with them sitting in said Bentley, which was Aziraphale saying he's not ready for a relationship. In this season, as noted above, we see Aziraphale increasingly embracing the potential fantasy of being with Crowley. But here's the catch: when he's in the Bentley this time, driving it, setting the pace, acclimating to the idea, he's driving his own idea of what the Bentley/his relationship with Crowley is. It's not the real thing. He plays classical music; he supplies himself sweets; he turns it yellow; he drives too slow. Crowley calls him in another old-married-couple snitfit to complain that Aziraphale's messed it up, but what Aziraphale has actually messed up (or will, by the end of the season) is far more consequential than just a car. He's changed the entire shape of their relationship to the one he thinks can make it work, and it just doesn't. It has to be them -- "we could have been... Us" -- or it's not even close to the truth. It's not worth their time.
I repeat: Ouch.
Speaking of the writers validating fan theories, I know we all picked up and screamed about on Crowley's idea of Peak Romance Guaranteed To Fall In Love being sheltering from rain and gazing into each other's eyes, which confirms that that poor bastard was indeed ass-over-teakettle gone as soon as he met Aziraphale (again) in Eden. I also need to talk about the 1941 redux, because wow. This time, the danger comes from Hell, which we see being its usual self: gleefully, pointlessly cruel, pettily backbiting, dirty, sniping, tedious, endless, determined to mindlessly destroy because They're The Bad Guys and they like it. So they blackmail, spy on, miracle-block, illicitly photograph, and try to prove that Aziraphale and Crowley are secretly a couple, right after Aziraphale himself has just had the Light From Heaven realization that he's in love (which we all also picked up on in s1). They're forcibly outing them (to speak of more Religious Queer Trauma) in order to break them up/get them into trouble with their authorities/families. Aziraphale and Crowley manage to escape it mostly by dumb luck, but Crowley having an altogether freakout, hands shaking, barely able to actually point the gun at Aziraphale even in the knowledge that it's supposed to be fake, is just... wow. He can't even fathom the idea of ever trying to destroy him in earnest, especially when he knows on some level that Aziraphale also finally just realized his own feelings. So I just need to --
/screams
Anyway, Aziraphale's entire arc this season is doing what he thinks is the right thing and then inadvertently causing harm and damage as a result. In the Edinburgh flashbacks (live slug reaction of me: SEAN BIGGERSTAFF???!!) he tries to stop Elspeth from stealing bodies and gets Morag killed and Crowley drinking the laudanum to save him (though that part with David Tennant just riffing left and right, using his natural Scottish accent, and being Tiny Crowley/Huge Crowley was hilarious). He invites his neighbors to a Pride and Prejudice ball and makes them all the target for demonic attack. And of course the Job episode: Aziraphale, horrified at Heaven's callous cruelty, desperate not to get Job's children killed, willing to go along with Crowley's tricks to save them somehow, tempted by Crowley to do the fucknasty with their angel bits eat some food and decide that he likes it. As mentioned, the whole thing about God being silent this season is a major thematic choice. The only time we see/hear God is Her communing with Job from afar. Aziraphale enviously imagines the answers he must be getting (he's not, he's baffled and perplexed), while Crowley longs beyond words to even have the opportunity to ask the question: why? Why do this? Why is this your plan?
And of course, this absence culminates in the Metatron, the Voice of God, the person arrogantly claiming that they're speaking for God and know exactly what Heaven wants, being able to seize Aziraphale by the short hairs and absolutely fuck him over. Gabriel is gone/decommissioned/eloping with Beelzebub, so Heaven needs a Supreme Leader (God apparently is no longer a factor in the equation). And what this Supreme Leader needs to do is finally unleash the Apocalypse that Gabriel decided to pass on (the Second Coming). Aziraphale needs to be punished, taken away from Crowley's influence/love, and put back under Heaven's explicit control, so Metatron spots a great opportunity to do all three at once. It's not an accident that the exact tool he uses to get Aziraphale to agree is "now you can actually be with Crowley!" Aziraphale and Crowley have been trying so hard to hide out from their respective Head Offices, but now all at once, there's this seemingly miraculous opportunity for them not to have to do that anymore! They can be together! They can be sanctioned by Heaven! They can give up all this hiding and sneaking around and lying! Isn't that better?
... As long as, of course, they give up absolutely everything that makes them who they are. No big deal. Minor catch. Probably nothing.
Metatron doesn't let Aziraphale have time to escape, or think it over, or reflect, or anything. He pressures Aziraphale to come with him immediately, or be once more subject to Heaven's implicit wrath/destruction/judgment. Believe me, Aziraphale already KNOWS he's made a huge mistake, as soon as he hears what Metatron really wants: bringing him back to unleash the Apocalypse that Aziraphale and Crowley have given up literally everything to prevent. He doesn't need time to reflect. By the time my man is in that elevator, he's well aware of what a catastrophic misjudgment he's made, and yet --
Aziraphale needs this. He has, as noted, literally always relied on Crowley outsmarting Heaven's cruel orders in order to prevent himself from having to do them. He's relied on Crowley rescuing him ("rescuing me makes him so happy," WELL BUB, IT'S BECAUSE YOU ALWAYS NEED IT). He admits to Crowley's face that "I need you!" He hates Heaven's sadistic meanness, but he has absolutely no framework, in and of himself, to defy it. When the rubber hits the road, he will crumple and try to go along with it, and now he's been put in a position where he's going to have to stand up, defy Heaven, and make the break once and for all BY HIMSELF. He doesn't have Crowley around to do it for him, he has no support, he is going to arrive in Heaven and be shuttled straight off to the Apocalypse 2.0 War Room. The only way he gets out of this is if he actively stands up, if he chooses himself and Crowley and their life, and he has to.
The thing is:
Aziraphale has lived his entire eternal existence Looking Up. Up is the direction of Goodness and Heaven. Up is where Angels go. Up is where Aziraphale comes from and where Demons and Hell are not. But now he's going Up, in a position to take over the whole shebang, and it's the last thing he wants.
So he's going to have to come back Down.
He's going to have to Fall. He's going to have to get back Below at all costs. He's going to have to finally, once and for all, understand what led Crowley to make the choice to leave Heaven and never come back. It's only then that they can possibly be together on any kind of conscious, equal, deliberate footing, claim their own agency, reject Heaven AND Hell, and try to really earn that South Downs cottage and that happy-ever-after, and it's gonna hurt so good.
Now if you will excuse me, /screams
#good omens#good omens meta#good omens s2#good omens spoilers#ineffable husbands#look this probably could have been twice as long#but i had to stop somewhere#I JUST HAVE A LOT OF FEELINGS
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To Tame The Untamable: Lilith & Obsession:
*just based on my experiences, only take what resonates
**This is more so the like analysis portion, for synastry & placements that trigger obsession see part 2
Black Moon Lilith is fascinating. Even in her presence in your birth chart, she’s less of a planetary body and more of a philosophical (I.e. mathematical) point. She’s elusive and hard to pin down, and yet her influence is permeating. Similar to how Scorpio placements bleed through a birth chart like ink bleeds through paper. Lilith has a distinctive presence (Lilith’s energy is especially felt with hard aspects- square/opposition/conjunct to the angular houses -1st,4th,7th,10th).
Lilith is so weighted yet so elusive, and that is definitely a cornerstone of why she triggers such obsession in others. Even in her original mythology, her husband, Adam, couldn’t control her - and she was made for him ! There’s something inherently rebellious and hard to categorize about the impact of her energy. She’s dark, sultry, and heavy. She’s the eternal antithesis of the traditional feminine. Because she’s always sitting in this outsider energy, there’s an inherent challenge to power that is attached to her presence.
There’s something shocking about what she brings to the native’s energy. She swings in extremes so that people with heavy Lilith placements are often derided for being so outside of the norm. Too s*xy, too opinionated, too smart “for their own good”, for having too much of a strong impact in general. The reality of the situation is that Lilith is here to show you how to live outside of a traditional lens and embrace this energy you already have. She’s here to help you step into your power (while keeping your approach balanced and not over indulging in it, of course).
…So… what’s the deal with the men?
I had to restart this paragraph like 3 times lol. From the top, we live in a society ! Lol
Social roles have certain social rules depending on cultural structures. I often wonder what all of this, all of these dynamics would look like if the gender fluid or the matriarchal societies didn’t get so eroded by colonialism but obviously that’s an essay for another day lol. The dominant culture is a not so distant run off of conservative religious power structures. So as a result, our sort of default social standards are set to be white, patriarchal, heteronormative, and many other strict social categories in line with those ideals. The more you culturally align with these ideals by default the more power you tend to have. And, through a sort of simplified lens, to be socialized within, or at least in closer proximity to those ideals can create a curiousity about those on the outside. Those who cannot and do not align with those defaults have this something else. Something else about how they exist in the world, sometimes on the outskirts, does compel people that are committed/used to living within these strict categories.
There’s something about people with that outsider energy, that exude this inherent wildness that sort of captivates the attention of those that don’t have it. Like an it factor with a bit more darkness attached to it. I think there’s a power in like finding your identity outside of these circles. And when any sort of feelings come into play it can make things more volatile. I think the grip that Lilith tends to pull on guys lies in the power dynamics at play in many relationships in -patriarchal- society. If she’s uncontrollable does that mean you have any power at all? It can be dizzying to be vulnerable in a relationship and lose any of the power/control you’ve had your whole life (I assume lol, I’ve never been a man and they know how I feel about them lol).
I think that’s why relationships tinged by Lilith energy/synastry can quickly become a lot. A lot of passion, a lot of drama, a lot of vying for power. When you’re a femme, much of your social power lies in your attractiveness (even when it comes to stuff that should be neutral like getting a job, or getting a fair chance if you get in trouble, etc). And I think it’s so interesting that Lilith has such a strong effect on the girls. She makes you attractive and gives you power but makes you damn polarizing and makes the power you have into this double edged sword.
On the flip side (Mm yes very 90s of me), this is just shadow side energy. Which is to say Lilith doesn’t make anyone do anything. Her energy just exposes the other side of people (all people, but that’s another essay for another day). If a man, any person really, was going to have positive intentions towards you Lilith energy wouldn’t warp this. She just shows you the darkness some people try to hide. If you’re dating someone and they try to cross your boundaries and get controlling after the second date- this was always going to happen, they just were compelled to try to box you in earlier than they may have intended with someone else.
But yeah in summary, Lilith triggers obsession in others because entitlement. Whoever is acting this way had those controlling and obsessive tendencies all along- it was just brought to light. And when someone shows you who they are, take it from me, it’s best to listen.
Disclaimer: 1. This is a generalization of how things can go, not how they always have to go, so yknow grain of salt 2.With great power comes great responsibility, stay safe out there y’all :0 3. Ok so we live in a society lol, and so we have a lot of social conventions we tend to be used to by default. Romanticize even. And I definitely think obsession is one of those conventions. Desire can be enticing. To want to be wanted. But if it’s taking over your life? I don’t think that should be aspirational. I think everyone wants someone to be obsessed with them until they actually are then it’s this wild uncontrollable thing -and frankly that’s terrifying. (We’ve seen the show You right? It tends to go bad lol.) Live your life ofc, just be careful not to romanticize ab*sive/controlling tendencies in others because it’s unhealthy at best and dangerous at worst. Just my two cents.
(Also omg this whole thing took me so much longer to write than I intended lol, thank you so much for the support everyone <3!)
#astro observations#astro notes#astroblr#astro community#astrology#lilith astrology#astroloji#lilith culture#lilith aspects#lilith
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blitzø and his relationship with masculinity in ghostfuckers
Obviously blitzø has this bulletproof, as millie said, facade he puts up but deep down there is this fear that if he opens, he will get laughed at if he opens up to anybody. Blitzø's relationship with his masculinity is extremely fragile. Now knowing cash beat him, it makes sense to assume that the feeling of helplessness he experience from his dad's abuse made him always have to feel invincible. Over time, this solidified into him having to be overly harsh and brash (downplaying moxxie's achievements). This facade, in his mind, became all anyone in his life has ever known (unaware that the cracks in this very facade is what makes people more drawn to him anyway). He believes it is expected of him to keep it up no matter what, the specific types of jokes he cracks, the type of digs he makes at moxxie, and of course, his feelings.
This whole episode has been blitzø trying to deny his feelings whne they are SO fucking obvious to everyone in his life. With the hypersexualizing of the mission, he is trying to erase the perception from millie's mind that he is "moping" and just revert back to what everyone expects of him. He really doesn't need to hide how shitty he's feeling, he obviously doesn't want to either but he HAS to because these practices are so ingrained into his mind he doesn't even realize he's doing it.
In the flashback, he gets so pissed that millie even brought up the notion that they don't deserve all this. In reality, blitzø was probably thinking the exact same thing but hearing it voiced out in the open immediately triggered his need to reaffirm that he is the least insecure and most masculine and confident person ever.
When Rolando traps him in the abandoned movie theatre and makes him watch every single moment where he has ever felt inferior or insecure, this issue is mentally brought to the forefront of everything. Everything he had been running from for 15+ years he is being forced to confront and he is chained down having to deal with the fact that there is some slimy infestor demons weeding through his darkest moments and choosing which one would sting blitzø worst. He can't speak, he can't move, he can't do anything except stay paralysed in that spot, Rolando wants him to come to terms with the fact that no matter how successful he is, if you are vunerable enough to share your trauma? That is all people will see you as. Weak.
And then there's the root of it all.
Cash Buckzo.
The man that taught him that violence is masculinity. The man that never once even thought of displaying empathy or vulnerability as blitzø's ONLY male role model throughout his childhood. Blitzø toxic masculinity mindset is all subconsciously so he can appease his father. It's why he makes fun of Moxxie, because his relationship with masculinity is so fucked that when he sees somebody that isn't conforming to typical gender norms he has been taught, he has to drag them down in an effort to convince his mind to keep perpetuating this facade because other what was all his suffering for? He could at least be the son his father wanted. The memory of Cash's outbursts still make him flinch, no matter how successful he is he can't escape the cycle of wanting to please his dad.
why he loves stolas
of course I have to make this about stolitz, who do you think i am?
ANYWAY. As I said before, blitzø's only male role model throughout his life was Cash, violent, angry Cash. That was until Stolas came along. Stolas altered blitzø's entire brain chemistry regarding masculinity because here is the most powerful person blitzø has ever met and actually formed a relationship (IT WAS NOT A BREAKUP copium goes hard btw) with and he's.......a bottom?
Nah but really, it's no shocker that Stolas displays more classically "feminine" (whatever that means) traits, which he has been taken advantage of by paimon, stella and likely other memebers of the Ars Goetia but blitzø sees Stolas' masculinity completely differently. Power dynamic or no, blitzø looks up to Stolas, likely because of how different he is from the men that blitzø has met before, including Cash. This paired with the fact that Stolas is not weak by ANY means, blitzø has seen firsthand how strong he is (blitzø is yet to witness stolas' mental strength but when he does i will be screaming and crying) and that is what attracts blitzø to stolas. Stolas was able to do what blitzø never could and break the cycle of toxic masculinity.
#moxxie dear PLEASE make blitzø watch falsettos#he'll love it i promise#I LOVE THIS LITTLE RED IMP#PLEASE LET NOTHING BAD HAPPEN TO HIM EVER#helluva blitzo#helluva boss stolitz#helluva boss stolas#hellaverse#helluva boss#helluva boss ghostfuckers#ghostfuckers
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How The Evans Would React To Reader Who Has Panic Attacks
A/N: Hi guys!! This is just what I headcanon Evan's characters to be like with a partner who has panic attacks. As someone who deals with panic attacks personally, this hits really close to home. I hope y'all enjoy, and comments are always appreciated.
✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆₊˚⊹♡ ✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆₊˚⊹♡
Tate Langdon
Has experienced panic himself, so is surprisingly good at handling them.
Will hold you as close as possible until it passes.
Lets you cry into his chest and sometimes even sheds a few tears himself.
Combs his fingers through your hair and presses soft kisses to your forehead.
He's mostly quiet during them considering he's not the best with his words, and mostly relies on his physical presence to comfort you.
Tate hates seeing you like this, so he always pushes you to have a conversation about what triggered the attack once you're calm.
Tate obviously isn't a mental health expert, but he wants to help you to the best of his ability.
Kit Walker
The SWEETEST boy oh my lord.
Kit will immediately drop whatever he's doing and rush to be by your side.
He takes both of your hands in his, and pulls you into him.
"Look at me, sweetheart. You'll get through this."
Is super vocal, and his words always help calm you.
Will kiss your tears away until you don't have anymore to shed.
"I love you hon, it's gonna be okay."
Once you've calmed down some, he'll carry you to bed so you can rest.
Listens to your every request and does whatever in order to make you feel comfortable.
Also makes sure that he knows your triggers so he can help minimize your attacks.
Kit is the king of communication, and your relationship is built on honesty and transparency.
Pre-Death Kyle Spencer
Also extremely sweet and loving.
I'm a firm believer that Kyle is an amazing listener so over time he becomes very well equipped to help you.
"Hey babe are you okay?"
"Oh shit!" He immediately pulls you into him.
Will sway back and forth as he holds you to help soothe you.
Also I think he would have a habit of humming softly in your ear, whether it's consciously or not.
Jimmy Darling
I know for a fact that Jimmy is a big hugger, so his first instinct is to give you a big hug.
He doesn't have much experience with panic attacks, but I'm sure my queen Ethel taught him how to be empathetic.
I feel like he would sing to you to calm you down, doing what he does best yk?
I think he'd be a super anxious boyfriend, so he'll constantly check in on you for the next few days to make sure you're okay.
"Hey, how're ya feeling?"
"Jimmy, I told you I'm okay."
"I know, I know, I just want to be extra sure."
James March
I feel like he'd lowkey be super confused, especially the first time you had an around him.
Given the fact that he's over 100 years old he doesn't even know what a panic attack is.
I feel like he would think you were being possessed at first and freak out.
Once he does understand though, he'd actually be very loving.
For one thing, if James happens to fall in love with you then he is IN LOVE.
He would devote his life to you and nothing about you could deter him from loving you.
The main thing he'll do to comfort you is kiss you everywhere.
Like he will kiss your cheeks, your shoulders, your nose, your lips. Not in a sexual way, but in an affectionate way.
Kai Anderson
I think he'd be super super awkward about it.
Like I can honestly imagine him giving you a pat on the shoulder and being like "get it together."
On the other hand, if he's in a good mood, he'd start talking about how once he takes control of the country you won't have to deal with anything like that anymore.
If he's feeling extra generous he'll even hold your hand to help you relax.
Kai is your typical narcissist so he would deal with your panic attacks in the only way that he knows how, making it about himself.
But you know that's just how he is, and that he shows his affection in his own way.
#evan peters#american horror story#ahs#ahs fandom#ahs murder house#tate langdon#ahs fic#ahs tate#ahs x reader#ahs coven#ahs hotel#ahs fanfiction#ahs cult#james patrick march#james march x reader#tate langdon fanfic#tate langdon x reader#kit walker fanfic#kit walker x reader#kit walker#kyle spencer#kyle spencer x reader#jimmy darling#jimmy darling x reader#kai anderson#kai anderson x reader#kai anderson x you#james march x you#ahs freakshow#ahs asylum
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Which Housewarden Has the Most Practical Signature Spell?
This question was triggered by my thinking about the signature spells the housewardens have are… not always super useful under most circumstances. As this post will be covering all housewarden signature spells, there will be spoilers for Book 7 parts only available in JP.
Riddle Rosehearts. Signature spell: Off with your head. Creates a collar around the neck of the target(s) which prevents them from using magic.
It was Riddle’s signature spell that got me thinking about this in the first place, honestly. Mostly because his spell seems very practical on its face. He’s actually the housewarden who seems to use his signature spell the most, after Azul, which would make it very practical. Right?
Except his spell is only practical at all because of two specific circumstances. One, he is in a position of authority and able to deal out punishment to rule breakers, and two, he is in a location with a lot of magic users. In Twisted Wonderland, humans who use magic are much less common than humans who do not use magic. Outside of NRC, Riddle’s spell isn’t going to have much more use than a fancy collar about 90% of the time.
In summary, Riddle’s spell appears practical, but only because he’s in the perfect circumstances for it. If he was in different circumstances, it would be much less useful. 5/10
Leona Kingscholar. Signature spell: King’s Roar. Causes anything of Leona’s choosing within a certain radius to crumble into sand.
This is, again, a spell that is only practical under certain circumstances. It’s definitely a powerful spell, but you’re not exactly going to be whipping it out every single day, unless you’re a glassmaker (and even then, you need specific sand to make glass and we don’t know what kind of sand Leona makes).
That being said, it’s not like the spell has no practical uses. It’s an extremely powerful offensive spell and it means people would certainly be cautious about approaching Leona in a combat situation. He’s a prince as well, so we need to consider that he’s more likely to get targeted for political reasons. A powerful spell like his would be a deterrent and a means of protecting himself and defending others.
All in all, it’s another powerful spell, but it’s hardly one you’re going to get much use out of under normal circumstances. 4/10.
Azul Ashengrotto. Signature spell: It’s A Deal. By signing a scroll, Azul can take any power he chooses as part of a contract. If the terms are broken, the contracted party will have to obey Azul.
Okay, so this one’s a weird one. It’s been stated before in canon (I believe Jade and Floyd touch on this right around Azul’s overblot) that Azul does not HAVE to make a contract in order to take a power. He can just do it (he was using his signature spell when he overblotted, for example, without needing the contract). However, this is difficult to control (since he just sucks out ALL a target’s abilities instead of one) and it skirts along the lines of forbidden magic, so he uses the contracts.
Obviously, this limits practicality. To gain the power, he needs to get the target to agree to the contract and he needs to fulfill whatever his end of the bargain is. However, Azul is cunning and good at hiding his motivations to get what he truly wants. He can’t get people who don’t agree, but he can leverage people to get them to do so.
In general? This is the most practical spell we’ve seen so far. It’s got wide applicability (it seems to be implied in his backstory that he’s not limited to taking magic) and it’s something that can be used every day, even making it part of your job (which he does)! 9/10, subtracting a point for the inconvenience of the contracts.
Kalim Al-Asim. (What, were you expecting Jamil? Read the top again- it’s housewardens, not overblotters!) Signature Spell: Oasis Maker. Using only a small amount of magic, Kalim can create a downpour.
This is one of the spells that got me thinking about how practical some spells are, because this spell is discussed as impractical in story. Kalim states that the spell is mostly useless in a time of irrigation and running water. It’s good for some water fun, but not a super useful spell. In some ways, this could be seen as a reflection of Kalim himself, or maybe even how he sees himself: fun and flashy, but not really useful.
This makes it more interesting when, later in the chapter, Azul notes that the spell is incredibly useful in a different context! Go to a land without water and suddenly Kalim is a king. That’s why he’s wealthy in the first place- being able to create water made his family important. And it could be another commentary on Kalim- he’s really only fun and flashy in this setting, but he’s also more capable of being beneficial to those around him than he realizes.
So. Is Kalim’s spell practical? Well, yes and no. Azul’s right in that it’s more practical than Kalim was thinking, but that practicality is context specific. But being able to make clean water no matter what is useful in a lot of survival situations, and could help a lot of people, so… 4/10. Practical under the right circumstances.
Vil Schoenheit. Signature spell: Fairest One of All. Vil is able to curse any item with any condition he chooses.
So, uh. Does anyone else think this is like. Ridiculously overpowered? Might as well just give him the ‘do whatever you want all the time’ spell because that’s basically what this is. He has, in canon, paralyzed people with food, almost put someone into a cursed sleep with food, created acid, and paralyzed someone by getting them to touch lakewater. What. The. Hell. Are there limits on this spell? Is Vil perpetually one mental breakdown away from creating ‘you obey everything I say now’ water and dumping it over a crowd????
Okay. Rambling aside. This is a ridiculously practical spell. Clearly there are limits (I would imagine he can only affect so many people/things or hold it for so long before he can’t keep it up anymore) but it’s pretty damn strong. 10/10.
Idia Shroud. Signature Spell: Gate to the Underworld. Idia can open the gate to the Underworld in the S.T.Y.X. headquarters.
I feel bad but... It's not the world's most practical spell, is it? It's cool, and clearly necessary, don't get me wrong, but like. How often does this come up in day-to-day living? It might be practical for his job, I guess, but it doesn't seem to be useful in most circumstances.
I obviously can't rate this one very highly. Sorry, Idia. One point for its usefulness to his job. 1/10.
BOOK 7 SPOILERS
Malleus Draconia. Signature Spell: Fae Maleficence. Allows him to put people into ageless sleep while surrounding the area with a wall of briars and thorns.
This one's a harder spell to categorize, because we know what the spell has done so far, but we don't know it that's all it can do. I may be wrong on this, because I've only read the portions of the chapter that have come out in English, but it's not confirmed that this is the only thing his spell can do- like it's never been stated 'Malleus' spell puts people to sleep always.' It could be that this is the extent of his spell, but it could also be more like Vil's spell. If we'd only read Book 5 and he hadn't explained it, we could have assumed that Vil's spell could only be used on food. But it's actually much broader. I'm saying this because I don't want to rule out that Malleus' spell might be even more powerful or flexible than shown.
That being said, I can only judge on what I have. And what I have now is the ageless sleep bit. It's certainly not the most practical spell ever, though it could have its uses. As a defensive spell, it seems pretty good. You could trap an army with it, or create a protective barrier for your people until danger has passed. Still, I don't think this is a spell Malleus could use every day.
It's primarily for defensive purposes, so same as Leona's. 4/10.
#twisted wonderland#twst#twisted wonderland analysis#twst analysis#twst talk#twst housewardens#riddle rosehearts#Leona kingscholar#azul ashengrotto#kalim al asim#vil schoenheit#idia shroud#malleus draconia
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Hi everyone. It's been a while—exactly a month since I last posted to this blog. How have you been?
A month isn't really all that long, but it's enough time to be able to look at everything that happened and understand it better. In the end, the whole situation (I've been calling it The Fuckening in my head) really didn't have anything to do with me. I was unlucky enough to run across someone willing to hurt anyone they could for attention, but also lucky enough that everyone who mattered to me in this fandom went to bat for me.
So I’ve decided to come back to this blog. I'll be posting about call of duty again as well as posting my writing. I also plan to blog about other fandoms (I’d already been doing it anyway); I've been getting back into rdr2, for example, and there's some writing I'd like to do for that.
There’s more context which I’ll put below the cut, but that’s the most important part of what I have to say; I often regret how long winded I can be, so the rest is just self indulgence if you can forgive it. I’ve thought a lot about this choice and I’m satisfied with my decision. I hope none of you will mind.
So, lol, things were not great outside of fandom stuff when it all kicked off, though I didn’t mention it publicly because we all know by now that asking for any sympathy when you’re the target of a mob is more likely to just get you raked over the coals harder. I’m still not entirely sure about talking about all of this, but I have a bad tendency to clam up when I really should be asking for support. So:
I mentioned briefly before the accusations started flying that I was dealing with bedbugs—turns out it was actually something else, but leading up to a doctor’s visit I was convinced I had an infestation, and I was stripping my bed every day to look for them. I had alarms set to wake me up twice a night to see if I could catch them, so I was not sleeping all that well. I couldn’t find anything, but I had no other explanation, and it was driving me fucking crazy. Post doctor visit it turns out I had a viral infection. No idea where I caught it, and nothing to do but wait it out. I had a massive, gnarly looking rash all over my body, and to add insult to injury I developed a fever that took me out for a whole weekend. (I’m recovered now but I have a nifty new scar on my hip from getting a biopsy.)
Next to that, I was having some PTSD flareups of my own. This was (mostly) unrelated to The Fuckening. Now, I understand that that might be hard to believe, given “Myka’s” claims, and I can’t make you believe me. Nor will I provide details to convince you, other than to say there were some things going on in my neighborhood that recalled a period of time in my life that was extremely unstable, and I found myself irrationally terrified to go home every day. For those of you who don’t experience the symptoms of PTSD, I think it’s appropriate to note that it isn’t just emotional turmoil; I, personally, experience physical pain in my entire body that lingers for hours, days, or even weeks after being triggered. (Everything regarding this, too, is fine now. I have a great therapist and a supportive family.)
All of this to say, I wasn’t exactly thinking rationally when I decided to leave this blog and fandom. And I regretted the decision almost instantly.
However, I didn’t want to let grief make any decisions for me, and also I was still VERY scared Myka was going to hunt down my personal information and either dox or harass me elsewhere. I think this fear was justified; it has happened to other writers in this fandom before.* So I decided to take some time to cool off and watch the situation develop without me.
I don’t think I need to get into the details—although if you’re interested in them, @fulltacs has been keeping track of the drama. Given the most recent development with the four obviously sock puppet blogs that popped up and immediately began stirring shit up again, I realized Myka probably would have done what she did with or without me. I just so happened to give her the ammunition she needed to do something REALLY big. It was pure bad luck.
(Also—and I’m sorry if this is just stirring the pot, but after everything they did to me I feel I deserve to make the accusation—I’ve suspected for a while that the two loudest blogs leading the witch hunt against me were far more involved in this farce than anyone has assumed. I have no proof and I do not want anyone to do anything about it on my behalf, leave them the fuck alone. But I will not forget the distress they caused me for a long fucking time, and the only way for me to let this go is to say my piece. So there. Done. Let that be the end of it.)
Having this hindsight, I feel comfortable coming back. I’m still very touched by everyone’s support, which in the end was louder than the harassment. I also think it’s important for people who care about fighting racism in any community not to run at the first sign of trouble, which I did, and I feel pretty sorry for.
That’s the gist of things. If you’ve read all of this, thank you for doing so!
*I was going to add a paragraph about halfmoth-halfman’s situation but decided against it. For one thing, she wants to be left alone, and for another, talking about the experiences of fans of color, particularly black fans, deserves its own post separate from my white experience, if I should even post about it at all.
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have you seen underverse? if so, what were your thoughts of killer from that?
I have seen Underverse! Absolutely one of my favorite series
As for Killer, while it’s an absolute joy to see ma son gorgeously animated, it’s not my absolute favorite characterization of him, he’s too… emotional?
It started off well with him, him being a bit cheeky and saying shit like “I missed you” is something within character for him, I absolutely love his fight with Dream, his unconventional methods and aggressive style was a delight to watch (will forever love how he used his blaster to chomp on Dream’s legs aaaah) also the fact we see Killer using bones a lot during his fight is really awesome, cause we as a fandom really need to portray Killer using bones more, cause while he uses a knife obviously, he still uses bones regularly too, but not many people portray that (cough guilty of it too cough)
But then it went downhill a bit when fighting Cross, cause while Killer is absolutely a bit reactive during fights, he never truly gets frustrated/defensive unless it’s something to do with his personal life/ red lines, or his soul/inability to feel (and only when pressured/someone trying to get their nose in his business)
I think he got a bit too angry for a skelle that can’t really feel anything y’know? And while i absolutely think Killer can get angry, even during stage 2, his soul would still make his anger extremely mute to him, therefore he wouldn’t react too much to it, which isn’t what we see in Underverse
Then again, he got angry when he knew XGaster was controlling Cross, and in canon, Killer gets extremely stressed at the prospect of Gaster even existing saying that “he isn’t real” over and over, but that was before his soul had become a target
(Art by Rahafwabas )
I would’ve been fine with Killer getting that angry had he been reacting to XGaster, but i’d say Killer got angry more at the fact Cross was “cheating”, as he never really comments on XGaster himself but more about how he’s using his “puppets” on him
Which again, Killer really wouldn’t care, not in stage 2 (especially with the fact Killer canonically fights dirty, Killer himself is a cheater *flashbacks to Killer fighting Swap* and I don’t think he’ll be angry at anyone doing the same really), had Killer been in stage 1, I would’ve been a lot more convinced by his anger
The fact Killer’s smile slips so easily too is something that I think isn’t within stage 2’s ability, his smile is usually frozen on his face, unless it’s something that’s actually triggering to Killer enough for him to lose that smile
The fight ends with Killer saying “screw this, boss” basically giving up cause of being frustrated, which isn’t really something that i can see Killer actually doing, again, not in stage 2, as Killer finds fights thrilling as they’re the only thing that makes him “feel something”, not to mention his lack of self preservation and self awareness even, he would push his body to the absolute limits, a broken arm is nothing really, not to stage 2 Killer
Then again, that’s just the nerd in me talking, it’s important to keep in mind it’s one person working on this series’ story and animation, and I can’t realistically expect Jakei to keep Killer in character unless the episode went for an an entire hour hdhdhdhhd
Still, absolutely love the episode and ma son being beautifully animated just makes me ignore the nerd in me <3333
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Villain-Fucker Angst Hours
Good timezone, darlings~ Are you ready to get all up in your feelings? No? Me neither, loves, but here we are regardless so the words are going to flow as they usually do... This is focused on Raphael from Baldur's Gate 3 and his fandom, but the latter section can easily apply to any villain fandom.
Self-Analysis of Devil-Fuckery, Or Why Do I Adore Raphael When He Is Very Obviously Evil: A Short Essay by TavyliaSin (Who Still Cannot Name Anything With Less Than A Full Paragraph) ((NSFW)) (((Game Spoilers)))
The following may discuss heavier topics, but without specifics, so whilst it should be safe for most to read without triggering any difficult memories please be aware of Raphael's entire vibes, the content and context of his story, and I'd also like to mention that this isn't a "woe be us for we are terrible people" piece, it's actually more about:
"There is an inherent kindness and warmth to much of the Raphael fandom, and I think there could be some common threads behind that, pulling us all in closer in a comforting blanket that we wrap around each other to keep out the cold of the world."
So, what in the nine hells am I on about? Well. Raphael-fandom is a wild and wonderful place to be. The rest is in sections, so feel free to skip through to what you feel is relevant to your interests. I am so prone to waffle I should open a restaurant~
Who Are Fans Of Raphael? What Do They Want?
We are feral, unhinged, all sheets to the wind "I want that devil man, carnally, and there is no force in all the planes that could stop me". There's the vanilla to the extreme and every level in between, tops, bottoms, versatiles, Doms, subs, and switches - there are a whole lot of people who would love to get their hands on either (or both) of Raphael's forms, for a simple smooch or something far more spicy~ [edited in] To add on to this, not all of us even desire him in a sexual way, for many it is romantic, soft, or even just the rather pleasant thought of spending an evening with drinks by the hellfire because he would be fascinating company. Aces, Aros, and AroAces may all find themselves well within the devilish corners of fandom too~ which is a whole other essay~ [end edit] So, I see you. I'm one of you. Extremely loud and utterly hingeless in my fan appreciation for Raphael. He's one of my favourites to write about, I seek art of him, and the same goes for his mirrored other half, Haarlep, who I arguably love more despite there being far less content of them in the game.
And the Fandom? The Vibe?
From my experience in the Raphael Fandom areas, we have a very deep and abiding understanding of consent, respect, and treating each other with an absolute and uncompromising kindness. We've had talks about keeping each other safe in fandom, exchanged details of people we have encountered who need to be avoided, even shared details between moderators of different fandom servers to pre-ban people proven to be creeps and/or art thieves. We've also discussed consent, including the issues with it in the game, and how areas of the story can only really be considered dubious at best and could easily be triggering for people. And these discussions have been open, honest, fair, and with the acknowledgement that most of us love these scenes anyway. So there's a sense of care that runs through everything, behind the horny-posting and fan content, behind the endless thirsting after our favourite fictional characters. We have a depth of kindness that warms my sinners soul every time I see it.
What Does This Have To Do With Self-Reflection, Raphael, or Villainy In General?
Well let's look at Raphael. He's a villain, obviously. He's manipulative, devious, and inherently evil by his very nature. He keeps Hope chained in his basement, constantly subjected to endless torture. There's also mention of how Gortash was sold into his service at a young age, clearly not an enjoyable experience given the other details and how things turn out (particularly as Raphael would need Gortash's own plans to fail entirely in order for him to succeed in his own and get that crown). And as fans, we accept that. We don't sit making excuses, or trying to say "well actually Gortash is a little shit and Hope probably deserve it", and we don't shy away from or conveniently ignore those darker sides of him with malicious intent to enable more evil to flourish. What I noticed, when I allowed the thoughts to continue, is that there is a theme here.
If Evil Can Be Loved Then So Can I
That's the core. Of course, darlings, I am not claiming to be a heinous monster. I certainly do not have a laundry list of crimes that would make the devil himself say "Uh, that's a bit much." But I sure as fuck treat myself like I do sometimes. You see, I think a lot of us have that tendency, to judge ourselves far more harshly than anyone else. Our patience, understanding, and forgiveness for others runs deeper than the Mariana Trench, but when it comes to our own flaws? One minor mistake and we think ourselves to be the worst beings ever to disgrace the earth. Thus, the villainy we see reflects how we are treating ourselves. So by loving and accepting all of those things that should be terrible, hated, we are actually learning that no matter how poorly we think of ourselves that we can be worthy of that same love and acceptance. We are extending the affection we are unable to show ourselves to someone we see the worst parts of ourselves amplified within. And that's why villains attract the people with the most kindness. The most forgiveness. Because it takes someone with a truly huge amount of empathy to find love for the embodiment of evil.
Or, IDK, maybe villains are just hot and we're too far down to care.
But wait, before you go!
THERE'S SOMETHING WE NEED TO TALK ABOUT.
All of this is about FICTION. We should never be accepting of the kinds of evil we see in the game irl. We do not owe anyone kindness if they do not show it to us.
What is hot in fiction is not always OK IRL.
Look after yourselves out there, remember that consent is key in all things, and please do try to learn to love yourselves, darlings, you are worthy of it and you should judge yourself by the same standard you judge others. If you are in doubt, if you are worried, if you feel afraid - reach out, talk to someone. There are many who will listen.
Treat yourself as you would treat a friend. You deserve that much.
Oh, and all Raphael fans who understand kindness are welcome around me, any hour of the day, I adore our little fandom circles and would gladly collect all of us together. I'm following a lot of you as soon as I find you, like hunting shiny pokemon~
See you in Avernus, my darling Little Mice, may we all find joy in the Cambion's Embrace~
#baldurs gate 3#raphael#bg3 raphael#villain fucker#personal reflection#analysis of the inner mind by a complete amateur#listen the thoughts get loud then I write them down darlings it happens all the time#love yourself please#you are worth more than you give yourself credit for#and keep loving those villains! it's good for you!#be kind to yourself#and be kind in the community#did this even make sense? well it's there now so tough#DMS are open for fellow fans with excellent taste~
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♡ Obsessed Delusional Reader x Sinclair Brother's ♡
Bo Sinclair:
- "Wow, so you want me that bad, huh? 🤭😏 You tied me up because you want to keep me here? That's so romantic! 😍 And out of everyone in my group it was me?"
- Bo is staring at you, trying to scare you and even hurt you but...The drive isn't there with you being so...Willing? Like, there's no fun in this you lil nutjob!
- Match made in hell
- "Are you there? Is your head just decoration or somethin'? What the fuck is your problem?? I am CRAZY and EVIL and will FUCK YOU UP." You: "Okay bby, if you say so. 🥰" All while Bo is short circuiting.
- Alright, that's it. You're getting the glue on your mouth.
- Honestly about to cut something off to make you afraid or hurt...He might but also might not because you fascinate him so are you a person that fascinates him or a toy he needs to break?
- The bondage sex is probably banging though ngl he's even a bit enthralled by how eager you are compared to most victims
- When you are still not afraid and looking at him in a way that melts most hearts even his icy one he can't even truly torture you properly. Most victims he can shut that off because they trigger his sadism by screaming and fighting or cussing him out or begging him but all these years he's never had a victim act so lovey dovey even after finding out his darkest secrets
- At first this has him so frustrated he has to leave the gas station room; having a crisis cause this has never happened before!
- Doesn't trust you but decided to undo the mouth glue or tape and untie you after all the fun to see what you would do...When you follow him around like a love sick puppy he's both annoyed yet enjoys it
- Mad lil unloved boy in a man's body that is both flustered and irritated at his captive being so fucking smitten for him without manipulation on his part. He has to be in control and your feelings for him is out of his control and he hates it.
- "...What the fuck" -Bo after finding you drawing his name with hearts in a notebook and planning your wedding and future with your captor while your chained up in his bedroom instead of the gas station room bc he obviously is in love with you to move you to someplace more comfy; how sweet of him ♡
- You are dead ass scarying him.
- He should kill you but he thinks you're so crazy he's kinda nervous if he misses with his shotgun and what you'll do if he does because you so obsessed with him is a level of coocoo he ain't never had before
- Once you start to show dimension other than flirting with him (Bonus points if you have trauma like he does and it's why you're lovebombing him and so attached) he starts to look at you as less a pest and more a clingy pet.
- Like...You really just have that much of a crush on him after everything he's done? You both can trauma bond and lovebomb each other? (And manipulate even if he's too dumb to realize you're manipulating him too to love you)
- Is actually willing to be crazy with you after awhile and have you obsessed with him because why not? It gets lonely in Ambrose and he likes you as a pet at times. He'd put a ring on your finger as his spouse just to shut you up, claim you like someone claims their chair, and as an act to lure victims
- If you get extremely possesive and jealous and refuse him having anyone strapped in that chair in that room but you; he actually is so flattered you're that possesive of him. Like he secretly always craved a person making him theirs like this PLUS you know his dark side and still want him.
- He'd probably ease up on being so mean and try acting like a crazy possesive delusional married couple together after that even if he still treats you as a thing to easily manipulate and control and he's CLEARLY not being manipulated either (Poor dumb bastard.)
- Vincent is internally screaming and questioning why this person is in their house and has a wedding band from a victim on their finger and his brother is...Being sweet on them??? Lester is happy for you though.
Vincent Sinclair:
- "Wow...I'm your muse? 🥺💘 That's so swee-" *Paralyzing agent kicks in but you have heart eyes still*
- He literally cannot work with you looking at him like that. Stop. He can't even wax your brows off because you're looking at him in a way no one has before
- You weren't even afraid and it makes him hesitate because...He forgot his tools upstairs! Obviously...He'll try again later.
- Once the agent wears off and your spared for now it's ten times worse
- He is blushing so bad under his mask at all your praise and admiring his work and admiring him you're gonna melt his damn mask!
- He is harder to get through to than his twin (HC Bo is more desperate for affection as the least favorite bad seed unloved child than he let's on he just acts cold but they both crave acceptance)
- Vincent pats your head like Jonesy the dog when you smile at him while he works...You're not so bad. As long as you stay outta the way.
- May have to pick you up and move you where he wants like furniture sorry his people skills kinda suck being sheltered for his face then stuck in abandoned Ambrose half his life
- Bo acts annoyed with your obsessed ways but secretly enjoys the neediness for him. Vince is actually annoyed being much more reclusive than Bo and now you're staring at him while he works.
- Dead stares at you when you sculpt tiny little figures of you both holding hands with wax he let you have...He loves it or else he'd destroy it obviously ♡♡♡
- When he lost his mask and you fawned over him (He acted like Erik in Phantom of the Opera the DRAMATICS) he's absolutely panicking and startled
- Once you kiss that side of his face and praise him maskless how on Earth could he not fall for you too despite your odd ways??
- Becomes just as obsessed with you only in a more lowkey way than you. Making sculptures and drawing you all the time. Enjoys you talking, keeping him company etc.
- Bo is bewildered when you verbal rip his ass so viciously when he made a nasty remark to your angel bby his twin brother that this big guy was reeling back thinking you were gonna jump him. Probably said shit that he'll be secretly thinking about tonight with a heavy heart too. Vincent snickers and pulls his guard dog away as you glare at Bo the entire way back downstairs.
- You and Bo do not get along because of how protective you are of Vince and how mean Bo can be
Lester Sinclair:
- "Oooo, you got such a big hunting knife! Is it in reference to...Other big things?🤭😘"
- HUH!?
- His brain shut off because he had never had a victim he took to his brothers flirt with him like this. And while he's covered in grime and roadkill?!
- It's okay it just adds to his manliness. We love a man with hobbies! ♡
- Like...Are you being mean and joking? Are you...Alright up there in your noggin? He would take the long way and other roads to Ambrose just to talk to you more and figure you out (Even when Bo is in a hot ass suit in a Church with no air waiting and is ringing Lester's cell off the hook)
- When you are fascinated by what he does, praising his job, asking about him; he is a blushing mess driving. Then he tries flirting back and cracks his cheesy jokes. And when you laugh??? Ooooh it's over. He's crushing severely.
- Easiest brother to woe. He's keeping you. Gonna show up to the house like Spencer in that one episode of ICarly.
Bo: "...What is that?"
Lester drinking a smoothie while you cheerfully wave love struck on his arm: "A smoothie??"
- He did question your mental state at first but hell he grew up with Bo and Vince so what the hell? He's a lil crazy too! Just part of your charm is all.
- When you are talking about the future he gets a little nervous but not out right opposing it just give him some time, babe! He could give you a ring made of deer antler or bone wittled down and you'd cry and say yes.
- He acts cute with you. You both are so disgustingly sweet on each other it makes Bo gag and Vincent roll his eye whenever you both come to town.
- Both twins are so jealous their goofy dirty lil brother found love before them and they can't stand it
#house of wax bo sinclair#house of wax (2005)#house of wax 2005#house of wax imagine#house of wax#house of wax vincent sinclair#house of wax lester#house of wax imagines
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୨୧ : INTRODUCING MY INK VARIANT INX
Based off of my personal experiences. A year ago I was in a pretty bad headspace and had created him to help cope with my situation. Came upon him again and decided to make a ref+ revamp !! Anyways !! Some info about him <3 Inx deals with Chronic anxiety and Derealization. Despite the fact that knows the world around him is real, he struggles to fight with those irrational thoughts that its in fact not real. He feels like he's in a dream while existing which causes him to panic, and will get intrusive thoughts about him or others around him not being real. These intrusive thoughts can trigger panic attacks which happen to him frequently. Instead of using close range attacks, he specifically sticks with using long range attack as much as possible. Getting close to his targets causes him to panic, and most of the time he's not in a calm enough headspace to react on time and make strategic battle decisions. He tries his best to support Dream and Blue from the sidelines. He shrunk from stress.. LOL Dream is one of his comfort people. The two of them now live together and he spends most if not all of his time with Dream. When not around the other he can panic or go into spirals which take a very severe toll on his mental health. Because of this Dream makes sure to stay close to him and tries his best to accommodate him. He does have medication he uses sometimes, but he only uses it when having severe panic attacks. The viles are extremely hard to continuously manufacture so he has instead developed coping skills to deal with his issues best he can instead of taking his "medication" 24/7. The viles basically help him calm down and sort of reset his magic nervous system or whatever it would be so his panicking starts to cease. It doesn't last forever, but its a really good feeling when he takes it and it reminds him of how he used to be before dealing with all of this. These issues completely popped out of nowhere and the root cause is unknown by him and others around him. He had a thought that the world "wasn't real" and then got triggered into his first panic attack which then spread out into the issues he now has. [Literally exactly what happened to me except I'm okay now! Well sort of, not the same but def a LOT better :3] His eye will flash a bunch of different colors when he's about to have a panic attack or having one. This is a telltale sign that his stress has pretty much reached his limit and he's at his breaking point. He will leak and spill Ink from his mouth when trying to express the thoughts going on in his mind or his emotions. This is because his anxiety causes him to assume others will think he is annoying or attention seeking so he literally becomes choked up on his own words. Inx deals with constant paranoia that no one likes him and everyone finds him to be a burden. Despite others and himself trying to reassure himself, the sinking feeling that no one truly loves him also resides deep inside his bones. He doesn't get a lot of his sleep because of his derealization and anxiety. Constantly being in a state of panic makes it quite hard for him to rest because his body can't calm down enough to actually relax so he can fall asleep. He usually can only rest when with another person with some TV playing, or when he is so exhausted he literally cannot stay awake anymore.
Inx still enjoys to draw and visit AUs, it just has become quite difficult now because of the amount of stress he deals with. Obviously this has caused him to become pretty depressed so he has a really hard time picking up his hobbies, but he still attempts to use them as coping mechanisms even if he can't really make anything detailed anymore. Inx will constantly think about how he used to be before all of this and will wish that he could go back in time and just be normal again because he's so exhausted from everything.
Alrighty... For now thats all I can really think about!! I probably will look back at this and be like "awh dang why didn't I add this.." So expect me to most likely edit this little post at some point !! Also, all of these facts are 100% based off of experiences that I have went through. If you have any questions then feel free to send me an ask and I'll totally answer !! Plus some old art from when I first made him in 2023 when I was having that EP
Anyways, I hope you guys enjoy reading all this despite it being super long... heh.. I'LL SEE U LATUR !!
#୨୧: bonezonejpg 𐂯#ink sans#undertale#sans#undertale au#undertale fanart#undertale sans#undertale art#sans undertale#Inx sans
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