#pure fucking dread and suffering hell hell hell

[logaenhowlett]

NO END TO THIS ROAD - L.H.

Summary: Desperate and on edge after escaping from Alkali Lake, Logan seeks shelter in your barn, fighting to repress his primal urges. [Set during X-Men Origins: Wolverine]

Pairing: Logan Howlett x Female Reader

Warnings: Smut 18+ only, Angst, Feral Logan

A/N: I love all versions of this man equally, but Origins!Logan just triggers something special within me. Also, it’s my first time writing smut, please be nice!

MASTERLIST

Crimson seeps out between his knuckles. The once-untarnished skin now pried open by silver metal. For a brief second, he catches his reflection on the claws and fear tears through his body. He's unsure how his legs had been carrying him all this while, pain ripping into his flesh with each stride. His muscles seethe in agony, aching to bear the pressure of his newly-dense skeleton.

He's never been a stranger to suffering or trauma. There were several times in his endless, Herculean life where his own fists struck down countless others, ones that deserved his wrath. But this, he would never wish upon anyone.

The neurons in his brain seem to be on fire, every tendril underneath his skin shooting a flood of sensations through his veins. In this moment, he's no longer Logan. Instead, a man surviving on pure instincts.

Despite the warmth of sunlight caressing him, every breath leaves him trembling as he's exposed to nature's unwavering forces. Across the miles and miles he'd sprinted, there was nothing but mountains of lush forest overlooking glades. He had no destination in particular. Just somewhere far, far away from the horrors of what he'd endured.

His lungs feel like deadweight, crumbling within as he pushes his body to extremes never been explored. The thudding beat of his heart doesn't slow him down either, inching ever so close to a state he'd probably never recover from.

He prays for the first time in a century. An unspoken plea to whoever was unfortunate enough to witness such dread. He doesn't even register it at first - everything being a blur for so long. Soon enough, he locates a barn in the distance.

The thought of being discreet doesn't cross his mind when he slams the wooden door behind him. He staggers onto a pile of sacks, calves burning in relief as his chest heaves. There's no chance for him to process the events that occurred earlier, the whole world closing in on him. God, he just wants it all to stop.

“Fuck! What the hell are you doing?”

Lost in all that noise inside his head, he doesn't notice you creep into the barn, inspecting the sudden commotion. Light-headed is what he feels, vision clouding, meeting your fearful stance. The sledgehammer you're tightly clutching would've painted a threatening image to anyone else, yet it's the last thing on his mind.

“It’s cold.” He stammers out, resting his hands on the ground to find some semblance of reality.

“You’re naked.”

He grumbles in response, spitting out something close to a yes. The energy in the air shifts a little, and past your barrier of adrenaline and unease, he catches an inkling of arousal fighting to peek through. All his senses drift to one idea. He curses under his breath.

“Are you on drugs?” The tone of your voice strays from alarm to one of well-earned skepticism.

“No,” He groans, shutting his eyes as his body reacts to your subconscious desire, “I’m sorry... I just had to find a place.”

At that moment, he doesn't know if it's a good thing you're warming up to his being here. Though, he appreciates you lowering the sledgehammer, wincing at the thought of his bones ringing at any contact with the tool.

“Looks like you had a shitty night.”

“Something like that."

All the blood within him rushes down. He drowns the urge to unsheathe the claws, diverting his instincts to focus on anything but your sweet, sweet pheromones tainting the air around him. And as if it's deathly poison, he stops breathing, unwilling to let such a venom infect his very being. Fuck, he wants to taste your cunt so bad.

A rag hits him in the chest and he's thankful for the short-lived interruption. He immediately drapes it over his throbbing cock, his posture only doing so much to help all this time.

“I made dinner and - " He finds your eyes as they study him, "You look like you could use a shower.”

When you lead him to the cabin, he tries to maintain a respectable distance, trailing behind as if the ground beneath is a minefield yearning to explode. At least, the confines of the bathroom provide some solace - far from your radiating presence that teases him in all the right ways. Jesus, get a fucking grip.

Scalding hot water hits his body, easing his tightly-wound muscles. As he lathers himself, he's reminded of a faint whiff of the very same body wash he noted on you, now soaking into his own skin. His scent entangles with yours. And he makes the mistake of entertaining that thought. Steadying himself, he releases a shuddering breath, the hairs on his arms mimicking the movement of his cock. After a while, he's not sure if it's the steam or the result of his actions that fog up the room.

Fastening the buttons of the flannel you'd generously given him, he stares at himself in the mirror. The remnants of your touch linger on the soft fabric and he wants to smash his face against the wall when his dick impulsively twitches. Instead, the claws fly out, slicing the porcelain sink in half. He mumbles a string of curses, jerking his head to snap out of whatever hold you seem to have on him.

He enters the kitchen warily, clutching the remainder of the sink and what would normally require the combined strength of his pinkie feels like a meteor between his hands. He thinks of Atlas, condemned to carry the sheer burden of heaven on his bare shoulders. The energy around you once again gleams at his entrance, your attraction to him not a secret. Yet, he refuses to desecrate an innocent soul with whatever ferocity he's got boiling within.

“I swear I’m gonna pay for this.” He grumbles out, placing it on the countertop.

Your expression contorts to one of confusion and speechlessness as he takes a seat at the table. Despite unsuccessfully quelling the thirst within him, the sign of delicious food overtakes his needs.

“Thank you for everything.” A genuine manifestation of gratitude spills out of him. The polite smile you return doing a funny thing to his heart.

“Well, I’m glad you weren’t a coyote or something.”

The conversation lulls into short, simple exchanges, delving into nothing below surface-level. Rather than following the rational part of his brain, he insists on washing the dishes, having to brave the dangers of being in close proximity to you. Only shallow exhales and the racing beat of your heart reach his ears as he ponders the pros and cons of the ability to read minds.

He glances at the dusty frames loosely hanging near the kitchen shelves, “That your family?”

“Yeah… This was my grandparents’ cabin. I’ve been here since they -” As you trail off, grabbing the clean plate, his fingertips brush against yours.

He clears his throat, “And the chopper in the barn?”

“Grandpa’s - He used to take me along for rides when I was young. It was our favourite thing to do together… Nothing ever came close to that feeling.”

“I know what you mean.”

He clenches his jaw, the tension in the room obvious to anyone with eyes. Honing onto the growing pool of heat barrelling down to your core, he swallows harshly. He can't seem to tear his eyes off you, hands quivering at a frequency that should surely shatter the glass he's holding onto for dear life.

When the last of the dishes are put away, you sheepishly guide him to the couch. His gaze drops to your ass, shamelessly peering as you retreat to your bedroom and return moments later with a heap of blankets, muttering about how he must be sensitive to the cold.

Moonlight weaves through the swaying curtains, it glistens against the stainless steel of his dog tags, drawing your attention to his only belonging. The space between you disappears, your fingers gently reaching for the chain.

“Are you in the army?”

Now that you're this close, every little sensation is amplified in his perspective. He calms himself, begging whatever deity that's responsible for his decaying resolve. It works in his favour until he clocks the wetness of your pussy. Dripping pretty all just for him.

“No.” He says, imperceptibly quiet. The tempting mix of hunger and desire in your eyes pushes him closer to the brink, the rapid beat of your heart mirrors his own and it only rouses the flame scorching the walls within him.

He growls, lips smashing against yours in a possessive, ravenous kiss. Breath hot on your skin, grabbing your hips and pressing his body firmly to yours. It's your whimpers, your honeyed admissions of pleasure that send a burning need through him. As you tilt your neck, offering him more access, his teeth sink into the supple flesh that holds your life, nipping and sucking to a rhythm he carelessly demands. Your fingers curl around the loops of his jeans, tugging him even closer. He grunts, hands roaming all over your body.

Biting your lower lip, he draws his head back lightly. "Feel what you do to me, pretty girl," He murmurs, thrusting his hips to press his obvious bulge against you.

A low moan escapes you, your nails digging into his shoulders to release some of the rising pressure, an anchor to this untamed craving simmering inside. His eyes darken at the sound, jolts of pure, uninterrupted rapture travelling straight to his core.

He lifts you effortlessly, hands squeezing your fleshy thighs when your legs wrap around his waist. The promise of you bending so easily to his will sets off a wildfire underneath his skin. Without breaking any contact with your lips, he strides to the bedroom, roughly shoving your body onto the mattress. He drinks in the sight of you, splayed out all needy in front of him, and it drives him to near madness. The flannel and jeans are ripped off his aching body in fluid motions, leaving him in all his glory - one step towards finally satiating these sinful urges.

He lowers himself down, arms caging you beneath him. It's torturous - excruciating even - when the weight of his body crushing yours ignites a fiery heat within you, tingling his limits. While you nip his jaw, he lets out a deep, appreciative growl, toes curling in anticipation as if every fragment of the adamantium infused to his bones has been electrified by your touch.

Pupils blown wide with lust, he curses, breathing ragged against your skin. His hand rakes up your shirt and gently kneads your breast, his thumb teasing your nipple. Your body immediately reacts to the sensation, arching towards him with an intensity that nearly sends him over the edge. "So fuckin' needy for me, princess?"

His teeth graze your damp flesh, lips trailing a path down your body. He thinks he's finally defeated death when your fingers grasp his hair, drawing him on a ride to ecstasy he never wants to escape. The shiver, the burning wave of passion coursing through your veins make his claws twitch within, desperate to emerge.

A feral grin flashes on his face as you whine, growing more restless the longer he takes. His hands dig mercilessly into your hips, the faint markings of bruises colouring your skin. He rumbles a muffled noise, lips tenderly pressing against your inner thigh, dangerously close to your slick entrance. It triggers something animalistic he's been trying so hard to overpower. In one quick motion, he rips your panties with his teeth.

"Look at you... Already a fuckin' mess and I haven't even fucked you." He rasps, positioning himself, the tip of his cock barely brushing against your soaking cunt.

In any other situation, he would've taken his time worshipping your body, preparing you to take him with a delicacy you would never associate with a man like him. Right now, his thoughts are filthy and downright profane. And not a single shred of his being cares about how painful this might be for you.

His hips ram forward, filling your warm insides with his length. A growl rolls through him, the sound dripping with pleasure as your walls tighten around his dick. His mouth finds your nipple, dragging his tongue impatiently over the soft skin before he begins to suck. Every thrust elicits gasps from you, moans that spur him on even more. "Fuck, sweet girl, can smell how badly you want me."

His cock grinds against the golden spot inside you, your head digging into the mattress with each push. He senses your longing to chase those highs, to control the movement of your bodies. A devilish snarl leaves him at that realisation, "I'm in charge here, princess. Wanted to ruin that pretty pussy since I saw you." He spits out, fingers pressing against your chin, forcing you to make eye contact.

As the climax approaches for both of you, he throws one of your legs over his shoulder, angling his body to thrust into you even further. He wonders whether you're the one with claws when your scratches tear into his back as you release that sugary ambrosia he'd grown an appetite for. Moves becoming sloppy, the unbearable threat of his cum spilling out sends his mind reeling. He shifts to pull out when your hand darts forward, stilling him.

"Inside, please."

The whispered plea makes his body strain with thrill. His load drips out your cunt, soaking the already-sullied sheets. Neither of you seem to mind the mess as he falls onto his back, out of breath and soothed to a state of newfound bliss.

As you rest softly against his chest, he allows himself the privilege to revel in your comforting presence. All the energy and adrenaline he'd built up comes crashing down. And he doesn't have the power to fight against his instincts, the ones that were screaming at him to run away. Soon enough, he succumbs to the enchanting spell of slumber.

He wakes up abruptly a couple hours later, momentarily startled by the warmth radiating from your body on his. The moonlight seems to fondly embrace your features, echoing his own expression. The feeling of guilt begins to rise within. He knows he has to leave, for your own sake, because those monsters will find him sooner or later. And he doesn't know what terrors he might commit if your blood is on his hands. He slips out of your grasp, refusing to glance at your relaxed form, feet transforming into cinder blocks as he walks towards the door.

“Where’re you going?”

His breath hitches, head ducking into his chest. “Listen... I can't thank you enough, but -" And despite every part of him indicating otherwise, he turns around. "You don’t want me here. It’s not safe for you... Trust me.”

Your sympathetic gaze almost shatters his resolve, he clenches his fist as your soft whisper reaches his ears, "Will you stay a little longer?"

Seconds later, he finds himself back in your arms, unable to deny the influence you have over him. He caves into your wish, savouring every last taste of the tenderness you carry just for him. By the time you stir awake, sunshine blinding your sight, the side of the bed he'd occupied is cold beneath your fingertips.

[countcait]

I've noticed that I disagree with much of the fandom on something...

(All gifs are by arcanegifs)

I don't think that revenge was ever the true motivator for Caitlyn in season 2. I don't doubt that she was experiencing rage and hatred toward Jinx, but I think that the driving force behind every decision she made in acts 1 and 2 was something else: fear.

During that period, the psychotic and wholly unpredictable terrorist that killed Caitlyn's mother was AT LARGE. She was liable to kill any number of other people, and Caitlyn knew that it would be her fault if she was unable to prevent it. Imagine the dread and the guilt and the overwhelming urgency she would have felt.

My own mom passed away from cancer when I was five, something that I was not remotely at fault for, yet I still suffered from crippling irrational guilt for years afterward.

If my mother had been murdered...

If I'd had the chance to prevent her murder, and the murder of several others, but I'd hesitated because someone I trusted begged me not to pull the trigger...

If every second after the fact was a potential second that the murderer could kill again...

If I'd suddenly found myself filling my mother's shoes and leading a city full of shifty oligarchs trying to manipulate me for their own gain...

If I was made into the face of justice for the murder victims... If the whole city was tapping their watches waiting for me to take the killer down...

I think I would liquify. My skeleton would give up and I'd be a jelly pile.

Incredibly, Cait was able to hide her panic behind a veneer of cool authority save for a few intense outbursts.

I think that Cait's emotionally repressed nature is part of why some people in the fandom so badly misinterpret her character. Maybe on a surface level, it's easy to read S2 Cait as a brooding vengeful bounty hunter archetype. A lot of people refer to Caitlyn's persuit of Jinx as being a "personal vendetta" and argue that Caitlyn's military presence in Zaun was done for purely selfish reasons.

But to me it's clear that Caitlyn was always trying to act in the interest of minimizing harm and avoiding casualties, even if some of her choices were misguided. Her strike team wasn't a way to personalize the takedown of the chem barons, it was conceived as an alternative to the deadly ground invasion that the council was planning.

Caitlyn was always scared that more people would die due to her inaction, that includes Piltovans and Zaunites.

If vengance had been Caitlyn's motivator, then she would have killed Jinx the moment that she surrendered at the commune. Instead, she was willing to entertain the idea that Jinx might no longer be a threat.

Caitlyn wasn't interested in killing a non-violent person. If Jinx was no longer dangerous, then her manhunt was done. Revenge was never her goal.

The last two times that Vi begged for Caitlyn to spare Jinx, all hell broke loose. Yet Caitlyn decided to respond to that one-two-punch PTSD trigger with a profound show of love. She was willing to let Vi free her mother's murderer, knowing that she'd likely never see either of them again. She thought it was worth it if it gave Vi the potential for happiness.

This is to say, Caitlyn's emotional intelligence is fucking legendary. She understandably harbored vengeful feelings toward Jinx, but she never let those emotions take control, and she was willing to give up her own chance at closure for the sake of someone else.

The fact that the weight of fear and responsibility deformed her for a period is no surprise. Desperation and urgency will drive a person to do all kinds of things, and Cait had a mountain of guilt and grief on top of that.

P.S. sorry for getting uncomfortably personal on a fandom sideblog, but my mom's on my mind given what day it is. I never would have thought that the league of legends cartoon would have me catching dead mother catharsis, but that's what uncommonly good TV writing does to a mf.

[satan-offical]

Hate mail/ Rant

Okay, Satan, Lucifer, Morningstar, Big Red Cheese – whatever you’re calling yourself these days, we NEED to have a serious conversation. And no, this isn't a "wow, you're so edgy and misunderstood" post. This is a dissertation of pure, unadulterated Tumblr rage aimed directly at your pointy little head.

First of all, the aesthetic. Let's be real, the whole hellfire and brimstone thing is tired. It's been done. We're in the 21st century, Satan. Get with the program! I'm talking, like, pastel goth hell. Think lava lamps, but filled with glitter. Think demons in ripped fishnets and platform boots. Think a color palette that's less "burning souls" and more "strawberry shortcake meets the apocalypse." You're a fallen angel, not a grandpa!

And speaking of fallen, what about your social media presence? It's abysmal. You're supposed to be the ultimate influencer of evil, and yet your tumblr feed is just you sibling for jesus and begging for attention. Where's the relatable content? The "tag a friend who's definitely going to hell" memes? The aesthetic vision boards for different levels of eternal damnation? You're missing out on a HUGE opportunity to corner the market on edgy teens.

Don't even get me STARTED on your employee benefits. I heard that soul-crushing paperwork is the only thing that hasn't been automated. The lack of dental is appalling. I mean, seriously, how are your minions supposed to maintain their terrifying grins without a good dental plan? Not to mention the work-life balance. Burning in hell for eternity? That's not sustainable, dude! We need mandatory vacation days and a healthy demon union.

And the music? Oh, GOD, the music. Heavy metal? Really? That’s, like, so 1980s. Step up your game. I’m talking lo-fi beats to suffer to. I’m talking ambient sounds of existential dread. Think Grimes meets Nine Inch Nails meets the sound of a dial-up modem failing. That’s the kind of auditory torture we need in 2025.

Also, can we talk about the patriarchy? Like, seriously, Satan. You're literally running a system based on punishment and hierarchy. It's problematic, to say the least. We need to dismantle hell and rebuild it as a cooperative collective of tormented souls who work together to achieve… I don’t know... ultimate existential peace through crafting personalized torture devices for problematic billionaires? We can workshop it.

In conclusion, Satan, you're failing. You're stuck in the past, your aesthetic is outdated, your employee benefits are garbage, and your entire operation is fundamentally flawed. I'm not saying you need to completely overhaul everything, BUT WE’RE LOW-KEY SAYING YOU NEED TO COMPLETELY OVERHAUL EVERYTHING.

(Lots of love, from-@askangie)

OK HONEY LISTEN UP

1.) really? Pastel goth aesthetics? It's hell, not your hello kitty hot topic fantasies. We aren't making people feel welcome, and your pretty princess vibes won't help with the fear factor.

2.) Says the person currently on Tumblr. Shitty posts and begging for attention? Yeah, do I see you with 1000+ followers? I give my audience what they want, and if you don't like that start your own blog.

3.) "Soul crushing paperwork?" If you're calling two pages daily on the torment done to our citizens soul crushing, I can imagine how you are at work. Get a life and figure out how to properly have a business before you come complaining to me

4.) So you're hating on heavy metal now? Boo hoo, cry me a river. Oh, you don't like the music? Cry about it and live a good life if you want lofi vibes.

5.) Patriarchy? Really? How long have you been following me? Not long enough to know that ONE: I'm a girl and TWO: most of my staff and heads are women. Get a life and wake the fuck up

Before you come complaining to me about my way of business: become an angel, betray god, fall from heaven, start building up a literal society of evil-doers and then we'll talk.

Mic drop.

[sleeplessdreamer14]

𝖋𝖎𝖗𝖊 𝖔𝖓 𝖋𝖎𝖗𝖊

summary: Adam catches feelings for a demon and absolutely suffering for it

fandom: hazbin hotel

relationship: adam x demon! reader

contains: canon typical themes, adam being repressed asf

Adam viewed himself as completely righteous and infallible and far above Hell and all its contemptible inhabitants

Every year he and his army would go down and joyfully slaughter as many sinners as they could get their hands on

That was the way things were, and he was more than content with it

But then you crossed his path and fucked all of that up

Of course it wouldn’t be that big a deal if he just thought you were hot

But unfortunately it ran deeper than purely wanting to boink you and be done with it

After a couple weeks of knowing you, it gradually dawned on him that you’d gotten stuck in his head

Try as he might to deny it, and believe you me he’s trying his damndest, Adam wanted more of you, secretly hating how much willpower he needed in order to keep away from you

In a moment of solitude, he caught himself reaching his hand out towards your fiery vision, and was filled with dread as soon as your flames brushed his fingertips and he yanked his hand away

And the worst part is how much he fucking loved the burn

It was at that moment that Adam knew he was fucked six ways from Sunday

He searched himself desperately for any shred of scorn or disgust to focus on you, to blame you for his desire for you, but ultimately came up empty

If Lute ever found out his attraction to you was more than merely sexual, he knew it would go one of two ways;

She would either turn on him in a hot second and he’d be locked out of heaven before he even knew it, or kill you on sight whether you were hellborn or not

Neither outcome was ideal

And Sera would surely condemn him for allowing himself to be bewitched by you

If anyone knew Adam was falling for you, he would definitely fall for real, and he couldn’t let that happen

But it was beginning to look like his fate was sealed

You had quickly become Adam’s most shameful secret

[patrickispinky]

Sex, Drugs, Etc.

pt.7

Warnings: Talk of drugs/Drug use. Possible smut in the future. Emotional Numbness. SH. A lot of plot. EXTREME Canon divergence. Before Maddies time. Set in 2022. This is NOT meant to romanticize addiction or mental illness.

1.3k words

pt.6

-

The sound of the bell ringing as you left the gym began to give you a headache. You’ve heard it repeatedly in life and the idea of it playing over and over again every hour for eternity adds to the list of things you hate about this place. Death is just one big loop, it's repetitive no matter how much Mr.Martin tries to make it feel more natural. 

“So I was thinking Rudy for tonight.” Again with Wally. He hasn't even questioned you on your weird behavior from earlier. You expected at least a little judgment but it never came. Golden fucking retriever. 

“If you want a football movie I'd pick Remember the Titans.” The memory of watching it for the first time in 8th grade history made a slight smile creep onto your face. You cried like a baby. 

Wally’s face lit up. “That is a great choice.” He seemed way too hyped to watch a movie he's probably seen a million times but then again this place makes the tiniest things feel like pure ecstasy and that's coming from personal experience with the stimulant. 

You didn’t know where you were going. Ducking and weaving through kids despite the others insisting there was no point because the living can't touch you. You feel somehow light as a feather but also like there are two fifty pound weights holding you down, giving you flashbacks to the pool where Wally still wants to teach you how to swim. You knew you couldn’t go back there, not after what happened so when he asked you changed the subject, dodging it like laced weed. That's what led you up to this conversation. 

“Do we set up in the gym?” It sounds like the worst possible place to watch a movie. The smell of sweat and body odor constantly sticking in the air from the boys who got way too hyped during dodgeball. 

“Yeah, we pull out couches and chairs and set up the projector.” Perfect, another few hours spent in that huge room that always felt somehow cramped. It was more of the idea of being surrounded by dead kids that made your skin crawl. It reminds you that you’re not the only one who has suffered in this hell hole. Kids, you’re all kids trapped in this place. Never finding out what you could have done for the world. 

Wally continued to ramble about movie night but you zoned out as soon as your eyes landed on her. Mags, she looks scared. The sight of Mr.Hartman talking to her with a serious sorrowful look on his face makes your heart sink. Kids are walking into class around her like nothing happened. This is it, she knows. She knows you’re not coming back. She knows this isn’t like last time when you ran away for a few days. She knows you're dead. 

The look of dread that consumes her, tears filling in her eyes, makes you want to scream. Just like that it’s back. Emotions turning back on like she accidentally flipped a switch without knowing it. They were just begging to burst out of you. To flood the school with your presents. To let everyone know you’re still here, that you can’t leave. Trapped, looking at her pitiful face because now she knows and it’s your fault. She’s hurt because of you. 

The sound of Wally’s voice pulled you back to reality, the ringing in your ears clearing as you realized there are silent tears flowing down your face. You don’t look at him but you know where his gaze lands, right on the girl with beautiful caramel skin and perfect tight curls. He doesn't say anything, just wraps one arm around your shoulder and pulls you in close to him. You don’t resist it, his comfort feels like needles because you don’t deserve it but the thought of pushing him away made you feel like you were gonna fall off the face of the planet. 

You couldn’t hear what they were saying and didn’t want to. You kept your distance, watching him walk her to the front office, probably so her mom, the woman you call your mother, can pick her up. This one felt like a stab through the heart, the blade twisting slowly as your blood sprayed, covering everyone in your pain. 

You didn’t speak as you turned to Wally, fully wrapping your arms around him and burying your face in his chest. Your silent tears turned into ugly sobs as you held onto this poor boy like a lifeline. You were shaking, body feeling like it was going to go limp when he wrapped both his arms fully around you, holding you up so you wouldn’t sink to the floor. 

It didn’t feel real. Nothing did, all a fucked up fever dream that you were gonna wake up from any minute now, but you knew better than that. That would be mercy, something you don’t deserve. Hell you don’t deserve the boy gripping you tightly but yet here you are, taking more than you deserve. 

You didn’t want to leave his warm embrace but it felt wrong to stay put. The scent of his cologne daring you to pull away as you soak his shirt in your tears. Weak, you felt weak for putting yourself on full display like this. Your emotions raw and untainted by the voices in your head screaming at you to bottle it up. It felt nice, freeing, but the guilt was all consuming. 

Reluctantly you pulled away, keeping your head down to save yourself the torture of seeing what you knew would be pity written all over his face. You stood there with shaky legs, staring at your hand as you forced your tears to a minimum, not allowing them to flow into a river that would sink everyone around you. 

“Thank you.” Was all you said, voice shriveled and broken before you turned and ran. You could hear him start to say something then he cut himself off, knowing it would be no use. You were already gone, legs moving as fast as they could to escape whatever fucked up reality you found yourself in. 

You hid in the first empty place you could find, a supply closet. It was dark, cramped, and smelled like chemicals but it’s better than balling your eyes out in the middle of the hallway. Isolation was the safest option. The best way to protect your own sanity. 

-

“Are you ok-” The words died in Wallys throat as he watched you run away. It was a stupid question, of course you weren’t okay, your worlds distorted. It’s nothing new, death is a dark confusing thing that leaves everyone lost. He understands, he just wishes you’d lean on him more often like that.

The feeling of your warmth still clung to him. Nothing new, he’s felt the sad sorrowful touch before but something about yours bloomed a new feeling within him. He knew you weren't ready, the look on your face when you ran away said it all but he can’t help but be curious. He wants to hold you like that more, to tell you that it’s all gonna be okay, that you have nothing to be scared of. 

What an odd feeling. It left him wanting more, wishing for more. It sounds selfish but he wants to be the one to comfort you through your pain. He knows hiding won’t heal anything yet he let you go, watched you run away to drown in your own self pity. The memory of him locking himself in the locker rooms when he saw his mom for the first time since his last moments clung to the air. Self pity was all he felt, he understood but you wouldn’t allow yourself to open up enough to know that he knows your pain. 

Hell, maybe he doesn’t know exactly what you’re going through but he can grasp it enough to hold you one more time, that’s all he wants. The touch of another.

pt.8

Unofficial tag list: @gabbyygoo

[yawnderu]

She Wants Me Dead — Miguel O'Hara x Reader | Part III

1 2 3

"You have tits now." The sentence is so blunt it almost makes Miguel laugh for the first time ever since the incident.

"Pecs." Is all he can reply, barely even finding the energy to keep his eyes open. He has been working himself to the bone ever since he broke the canon and erased an entire dimension, looking for an explanation, a solution, anything.

"Mhm." Everything felt so cold ever since. 5 months in and you couldn't handle the pressure of dealing with Miguel, who was barely home and didn't even have the energy to do anything with you, spending all day in his office, planning with the AI you came to love, Lyla. You left him at his lowest, appearing only a year after the incident, once Miguel had it together, in a way. The Miguel you're looking at isn't the Miguel you fell in love with.

"I have nothing for you, so you might as well shock off." He dismisses you without even sparing a glance at you, his red eyes focused on the projection of his adoptive daughter— the life he wished he could have and got to experience for a short while before reality came crashing down in him, destroying any piece of what the old Miguel was like. Friendly, nice. He was now full of snark, sarcasm, and a moodiness that seemed to spread to everyone around him, infecting them like a virus.

"I just wanted to see you. See if I got lucky enough to be in your bed again." There's a playful pout on your lips, doing nothing to ease the tension. He wasn't expecting to see you ever since you dumped him, and he could feel his muscles tensing at your mere presence.

"Not happening. Not after what you did." He's stern, cold. His red eyes set on you for a second before returning to his monitor, both wounds still fresh in his soul.

"You're still mad about that? I said sorry." The charming smile you shoot his way is enough to make his blood boil. It's something he has seen far too many times during your toxic relationship, something that previously made him fold and submit to you, despite knowing you're both pure poison to each other.

"Sorry." He repeats with a scoff, hands on his hips as he finally looks down at you. He's much... bigger, in every way. The lanky guy you knew is now towering at 6'9, his body nothing short of pure muscle that could easily crush you like a bug.

"If you want back in, you're gonna have to try much harder. You can't just keep doing stuff like that, not anymore." He's a lot more mature now, even if only a year has passed. You know he suffers from great trauma— hell, you were there to see that for yourself, until you ran away.

"Fine. I'll do anything, Miggy." You reply with a sigh, hands gently tracing his waist before wrapping around it, bringing him in for the so dreaded hug. In reality, you don't feel much about it, but for him... it's like another punch to the gut. He has way too much on his plate, the last thing he needs is his ex-girlfriend, a villain, pretending to be sweet just to get forgiveness.

"Just... be there for me and don't piss me off." He says after hesitantly pushing your body away, being careful enough to not use a lot of force.

Four months in and you've broken that promise more times than he can count, yet the obsession and love cloud his judgement. You're the only thing he can cling on besides his obsession with the canon, and so when he needs a break... he knows you'll be there. Doesn't matter if he wants to talk, cuddle in silence, or fuck. You're always available, ready for anything he has in mind.

"Así, mi amor." He guided your hips up and down his cock, arms wrapped around you like a lifeline as he used your cunt to jerk himself off.

"Too much—" He shushes you with a kiss, bringing your body closer to his until he can thrust into you faster, your whiny moans doing nothing but become fuel to his already exhausted body. His kisses are sloppy, desperate, tongues wrapping around each other in a mess of saliva.

''Wanna prove how much you're sorry? For all the broken promises?'' You regret nodding your head, because now your body is now pinned down on a mating press as he fucks his stupidly big cock into you, pulling out only to slam himself back in, the lewd sounds of your squelching cunt and mixed moaning bouncing off the walls of his room in a melody that you both know too well.

''Want it inside?'' He already knows the answer, but he always asks just to confirm. His thumb rubs on your clit while he holds your thighs up with both hands, looking at the way his cock disappears into your cunt, barely managing to take him all the way. The new position allows him to see more of you in a vulnerable light, and he truly appreciates just how much power he holds over you in this moment, your much smaller body writhing underneath him as your second orgasm washes over you like a tidal wave, unable to focus on anything going on around you except just how good his cock feels. You manage to give him a desperate nod, too overwhelmed to even speak, only whiny moans being able to push past your lips.

''Good girl.'' He praises in a whisper, burying himself all the way inside as he climaxes, pearly white and thick cum filling your insides, painting them a pretty color in what he hopes will finally be the time he gets you pregnant. Hopes, because he knows you're on birth control, and he knows he'll get made fun of if he ever suggests starting a family with you.

He slowly pulls out of you, tired body collapsing right next to you, holding you in his arms like you're made of glass, plump lips planting gentle kisses on your forehead, a total contrast to the man fucking you earlier.

''I love you.'' He confesses softly, the weight of the three words crushing him down every single time they come out of his lips no matter how many times he says them. Despite the lack of energy, you tilt your head, a teasing smile on your lips as you look up at him. He know that look too well, rolling his eyes and groaning in annoyance. You're definitely going to make him grow gray hairs before he even reaches 40.

[izanacore]

“casual” | manjiro sano x reader

chapter eight 𓂃⋆.˚

synopsis: a no-strings-attached arrangement between a party girl and a frat boy turns messy when mikey falls first. but when (y/n) runs from love, she loses him for good—until fate brings them back together, years too late.

characters: manjiro “mikey” sano, fem!reader

warnings: angst, heartbreak, fwb dynamics, explicit content, crack, fluff, jealousy, insecurities, themes of regret, alcohol use, violence, bullying, depression

additional warnings: strip game, ass slapping

notes: mikey surprisingly attends his classes. after this chapter, i swear i’m gonna stop writing smut for now lmao. they are too addicted to each other in the prev chapters, i had to.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

chapter eight

mikey was going through it.

his laptop screen glowed against his face, brows furrowed in deep concentration as if staring hard enough would make the words rearrange themselves into something comprehensible. he tapped at the keyboard, hesitated, then hit backspace. again. and again.

“what the hell is a citation?” he muttered under his breath.

across the room, y/n was sprawled out on his bed, scrolling through her phone, entirely unbothered. she hadn’t even wanted to come over in the first place—mikey had practically begged her, swearing up and down that this time, he wasn’t trying to get in her pants. just help me out, he’d said. no sex, i promise.

at his question, she glanced up, barely holding back a smirk. “are you serious?”

“dead serious.”

she snorted. “mikey, this is, like, basic university stuff.”

“yeah? well, i never needed it before.” he leaned back, groaning in frustration. “why do i even have to write a research paper? i don’t do research. i give orders. my presence alone is enough.”

she rolled her eyes. “your presence alone is gonna get you expelled.”

mikey shot her a glare before turning back to his screen. a few more moments passed, and then—

“what the fuck does ‘APA format’ mean?”

that was it. she lost it. laughter burst out of her, shaking her shoulders as she clutched her stomach. “oh my god,” she wheezed, “you are actually stupid.”

“hey!” he scowled. “you’re supposed to be helping me, not laughing at my pain!”

“i am helping,” she teased, wiping a tear from her eye. “i’m teaching you valuable life lessons. like how you should’ve paid attention in class instead of sleeping through lectures and making draken steal someone else’s answers just to hand them to you like a damn delivery service.”

“i do not do that.”

“mikey.” she gave him a look. “you totally do.”

he grumbled something under his breath but didn’t deny it.

after another failed attempt at formatting his paper, mikey groaned and flopped onto the bed beside her, face first. he sneaked his arms around her waist, pulling her closer as he laid his head on her lap. “i give up. expel me. i don’t care anymore.”

she tenderly brushed through his hair, the soft motion calming him, barely suppressing another laugh. “you’re so dramatic.”

he turned his head to look at her, eyes narrowing. “if you’re so smart, why don’t you just do it for me?”

“nope,” she grinned. “this is a learning experience. tough it out, big guy.”

“i hate you.”

“love you too, genius.” she leaned in, pressing a quick smack of a kiss to his lips before pulling away like it was nothing.

eventually, the research paper was somewhat done—or at least, done enough that mikey no longer wanted to throw his laptop out the window. but before she could celebrate, he was already pulling out a textbook, flipping through the pages with a look of pure suffering.

“what now?” she sighed, already dreading his answer.

“i have a quiz tomorrow,” he muttered.

she stared. “mikey, are you kidding me?”

“i wish.”

“oh my god,” she groaned, rubbing her temples. “fine. what subject?”

he glanced at the cover. “uh… econ, i think.”

she nearly laughed at how lost he looked. “you think?”

“listen,” he said flatly, “i just show up and hope for the best.”

“and how’s that working out for you?”

“terribly,” he admitted, flipping the book shut. “which is why you’re here.”

she sighed, already knowing she was too deep to back out now. “alright, let’s make this fun.”

he raised a brow. “oh?”

“for every question you get right,” she said, crossing her arms, “i take something off.”

mikey blinked. then, his lips curled into a slow, knowing smirk. “strip game?”

“yup.” she leaned back against the pillows. “you in?”

“oh, i’m so in.”

── ⟢ ・⸝⸝

mikey was failing miserably.

“wrong,” she said, shaking her head as she pulled her sweater tighter around her. “again.”

he groaned. “this is rigged.”

“it’s literally not,” she snickered. “you just suck at econ.”

“i don’t suck,” he grumbled. “i just—okay, maybe i suck a little.”

“a little?” she teased.

mikey shot her a glare before grabbing another question. he stared at it for a long moment, then slowly answered.

she sighed. “wrong again.”

“fuck!”

by now, he was down to just his boxers, while she was still fully clothed, sitting cross-legged on his bed with the smuggest expression imaginable.

“i hate this game,” he muttered.

she grinned. “i love this game.”

mikey exhaled deeply, dragging a hand down his face. then, as if determined to turn things around, he grabbed another question.

this time, he got it right.

she blinked. “huh.”

his lips curled into a lazy, triumphant smirk. “come on, pretty girl, be a good sport—take something off.”

rolling her eyes, she peeled off one sock.

mikey stared at her. “really?”

“what?” she shrugged. “you never made rules about what counts.”

he groaned. “you’re such a pain.”

“and you’re bad at quizzes,” she shot back. “guess we both have problems.”

mikey narrowed his eyes, then smirked. “alright. new rule.”

she raised a brow. “oh?”

“winner gets to make one demand,” he said. “no arguments.”

she tilted her head, pretending to think. “…deal.”

somewhere in the middle of their little game, she found herself bent over the mattress, her breath coming in soft pants. mikey hovered behind her, grinning like a devil who had just won a bet. his fingers traced absent patterns along the curve of her hip, dipping dangerously close to where she was most sensitive, a satisfied gleam in his eyes.

“w-what happened to your promise?” she breathed out, voice hitching as mikey’s movements didn’t falter. “n-no sex… just helping with your assignment…”

mikey only chuckled, leaning down to brush his lips against her ear. “technically,” he murmured, punctuating his words with a slow, deliberate roll of his hips, “this is my reward for studying so hard.”

she let out a shaky laugh, her fingers gripping onto the sheets. “you barely studied.”

“still counts,” he hummed, dragging his lips down her shoulder.

“i should make you tutor me more often,” he mused, voice lazy, smug. “seems like i learn better with the right motivation.”

“you didn’t learn anything. you just cheated your way through that game,” she scoffed, attempting to straighten up, only for mikey’s hands to press firmly against her hips, keeping her in place.

“cheated?” mikey gasped, all faux innocence. “babe, you wound me.”

“you changed the rules three times.”

he smirked, leaning in closer, his breath warm against her skin. “worked in my favor, didn’t it?”

she scoffed, tilting her head just enough to shoot him a glare, trying not to react to how his fingers were trailing higher, slower, teasing. “you’re insufferable.”

y/n should’ve known—being alone in a room with mikey was practically an invitation for sex.

she rolled her eyes. “thought you wanted to focus on your quiz, genius.”

mikey let out a low chuckle, his hands gripping her hips like he was barely holding himself back. “hard to focus when you’re like this.”

“mm? like what?” she teased, shifting just enough to make his fingers dig into her skin.

his breath hitched, but he refused to give in so easily. “you know exactly what, smart girl.”

then, without warning, mikey slapped her ass, making her gasp.

his hips pressed flush against her, rolling forward in a slow, deliberate grind. there was no sharp slap of skin, just the deep, dragging push of him filling her over and over, his movements steady but insistent. each thrust sent a shiver up her spine, the friction sparking heat low in her stomach, making her fingers clutch the sheets beneath her.

his breath came in ragged pants, his name slipping from her lips in a soft whisper. mikey’s grip on her hips tightened, pulling her closer as the rhythm of their bodies became more frantic, more desperate. the intensity of it all built until she couldn’t think anymore, lost in the feeling of him, the heat, the friction. each movement was deep and relentless, pushing her closer to the edge as she gasped, fingers clawing at the sheets beneath her.

“manjiro… i’m cumming—“

“me too, baby. shit—“

when they finally reached the edge, a wave of euphoria washed over them, leaving them both breathless, tangled in each other’s arms. mikey’s lips brushed against her neck as he collapsed behind her, both of them drenched in sweat, the room thick with the aftermath of their tangled bodies.

he gave a soft chuckle, still catching his breath. “so, think you’ll help me with my assignments again?”

y/n rolled her eyes but couldn’t stop the small smile that tugged at her lips. “if you’re horny, then no.”

mikey chuckled, his voice low and playful as he pulled her closer. “too bad, i’m always horny.”

y/n snorted, shaking her head. “figures.”

and with that, the night settled into a quiet calm, both of them exhausted but satisfied in ways they couldn’t quite explain.

chapter seven point five | chapter nine

[wallterwall]

-Yum Zlurplie

You know what? Fuck you. You useless piece of shit. You absolute waste of space and air. You uneducated, ignorant, idiotic dumb swine, you’re an absolute embarrassment to humanity and all life as a whole. The magnitude of your failure just now is so indescribably massive that one hundred years into the future your name will be used as moniker of evil for heretics. Even if all of humanity put together their collective intelligence there is no conceivable way they could have thought up a way to fuck up on the unimaginable scale you just did. When Jesus died for our sins, he must not have seen the sacrilegious act we just witnessed you performing, because if he did he would have forsaken humanity long ago so that your birth may have never become reality. After you die, your skeleton will be displayed in a museum after being scientifically researched so that all future generations may learn not to generate your bone structure, because every tiny detail anyone may have in common with you degrades them to a useless piece of trash and a burden to society. No wonder your father questioned whether or not your were truly his son, for you'd have to not be a waste of carbon matter for anyone to love you like a family member. Your birth made it so that mankind is worse of in every way you can possibly imagine, and you have made it so that society can never really recover into a state of organization. Everything has forever fallen into a bewildering chaos, through which unrecognizable core, you can only find misfortune. I would say the apocalypse is upon us but this is merely the closest word humans have for the sheer scale of horror that is now reality. You have forever condemned everyone you love and know into an eternal state of suffering, worse than any human concept of hell. You are such an unholy being, that if you step within a one hundred foot radius of a holy place or a place that has ever been deemed important by anyone, your distorted sac religious soul will ruin whatever meaning it ever had beyond repair. You are an idiotic, shiteating, dumbass ape and no one has ever loved you. Rhodes Island would have been better off if you'd never joined us. You are a lying, backstabbing, cowardly useless piece of shit and I hate you with every single part of my being. Even this worlds finest writers and poets from throughout the ages could never hope to accurately describe the scale on which you just fucked up, and how incredibly idiotic you are. Anyone that believes in any religion out there should now realize that they have been wrong this entire time, for if divine beings were real, they would never have allowed a being such as you to stain the earth and this universe. In the future there will be horror stories made about you, with the scariest part of them being that the reader has to realize that such an indescribable monster actually exists, and that the horrific events from the movie have actually taken place in the same world that they live in right now. You are the absolute embodiment of everything that has ever been wrong on this earth, yet you manage to make it so that that is only a small part of the evil that is your being. Never in the history of mankind has there been anyone that could have predicted such an eldrich abomination, but here you are. It’s hard to believe that I am seeing such an incredible failure with my own eyes, but here I am, so unfortunately I cannot deny your existence. Even if I did my very best, my vocabulary is not able to describe the sheer magnitude of the idiotic mistake that is you. Even if time travel some day will be invented, there still would not be a single soul willing to go back in time to before this moment to fix history, because having to witness such incredible horrors if they failed would have to many mental and physical drawbacks that not even the bravest soul in history would be willing to risk it. I cannot imagine the pure dread your mother must have felt when she had to carry a baby for nine months and then giving birth to such a wretched monster as you.

Not a single word of the incoherent, illogical rambling you may be wanting to do to defend yourself or apologize would ever be able to make up for what you just did. The countries of the world would have wanted to make laws preventing such a terrible event like this from ever happening again, but sadly this is not possible since your horrific actions just now have shattered every form of order this world once had, making concepts such as laws irrelevant. Right from the moment I first set my eyes on you I knew you were an absolute abomination of everything that is wrong with humanity. I was hoping I would have been able to prevent your evil from being released upon this world by tagging along and keeping my eye on you, but it is clear to me now that not even the greatest efforts would have been able to prevent a terrible event in this scale from occurring. You are the worst human being, or even just being in general, that I have ever had the misfortune of witnessing. Events like the infected plague apparently only happened with the goal of teaching humanity to survive such a horrible event as the one you just created, but not even mankind’s greatest trials were able to even slightly prepare anyone for the insufferable evil you have just created. If you ever had them, your children would be preemptively killed to protect this universe from the possibility of anyone in your bloodline being even half as bad as you are, except you will never be able to have children, because not a single human being will ever want to come within a hundred mile radius of you and anything you have ever touched. You are a colossal disappointment not only to your parents, but to your ancestors and entire bloodline. The disgusting mistake that you have just made is so incredibly terrible that everyone who would ever be to hear about it would spontaneously feel an indescribable mixture of immense anger, fear and anxiety that emotionally and physically they would never truly be the same ever again. The sheer scale of your mistake, if ever to be materialized, would not only surpass the size of the world, but it would reach far beyond the edges of the known, and almost certainly the unknown universe. I could sit here and write paragraphs, nay, books describing your immense failure, yet even if I were to dedicate my life to describing the reality of what has just gone down here, and I would spend every moment of it until my heart stops beating working as hard and efficiently as possible, yet there is not even a snowballs chance in hell that I would be able to come close to transcribing the absolute shitshow you have just released upon the world. You are an irresponsible, idiotic, disgusting, unloved, horrible excuse for a living being who’s soul contains less humanity than every ginger in history combined. The absolute disgust I feel when thinking about anything that has even a slight resemblance to anything that might have to do with you and your unholy actions is so incredibly great that when I am honest about it I think that even I do not posses a consciousness great enough to comprehend my own feelings about it. When people of Columbia fought to break free from Lungmen, countless soldiers fought and lost their lives in favor of a chance at a better future for their children, they did not give their lives to have you fuck the world up beyond repair to the degree that you are doing right now. Honestly, even when technology advances and studies on the subject become more and more accurate, I do not think humanity will ever truly be able to understand what your failure actually means for the universe.

My hate for you and everything you stand for is so much deeper than the depths of Shambala that you could probably take the entire Lungmen population down there and back up around twenty million times before you would have sunk to the end of my hate, and honestly, I do not want to exaggerate, but I think that that insult was low balling it such a massive amount that all mountains in this world combined would not be able to stack up to this imprecise judgement in light of the fact that when being honest, my hate is almost certainly bottomless. There is no one in this world that has ever loved you, and especially after what you just did, no one will ever love you in the future either. There is no hope that your idiotic behavior and especially your crooked soul will ever change for the better, and in fact quite the opposite might be true. By making the mistake that you just did, you have shown me that you are so incredibly hopeless that you will only devolve into a more idiotic and wretched creature than you already are. The only possible way in which your future would be brighter than the black hole your existence currently is would exclusively be because there is absolutely no conceivable way that you would even be able to sink lower than the pathetic place your current failure has put you in. But then again, you are so incredibly abominable that you would probably be able to surpass the worst conceivable failure a living being could possibly make. You are so incredibly pathetic that you are honestly not worth any more of my words nor my time. Just remember that I will forever detest you for your failure and everything you stand for, and no matter what happens, I will never ever forgive you.

[tom-is-online]

I don’t think I’ve ever dreaded an event harder. I’m scared for vbs WL. There is nothing but the title. They could be crying in their cards or having meltdowns and we won’t know for about 11 days. I have this awful feeling in my gut that this is not gonna be all sunshine and wonderhoy as much as I wished it to be 😭

i knew the second they said the wl would be "alternate realities" or whatever it was they said that it would be pure suffering and hell for vbs. and now we know the songs they're gonna have alt 3dmv stuff for. not looking good for us guys...

kohanes event is about getting over Nagi An's is ABOUT Nagi and Vivid Street Akitos is about burnout Toya's is fucking the first concerto.

this is gonna be hell.

[bafvkun]

Now that I finished MDZS I wanna talk about a scene real quick that I think a lot might kinda forget because of its placement in the story.

Im referring to when Lan Zhan inflicted on himself a brand on the chest with the Wen Clan’s iron branding. The brand is mentioned for the first time at the very beginning of the story in the first volume when they came back to Gusu from mount Dafan.

But it’s only explained in the last volume and actually last chapter of the series (not including the extras). What I meant while evoking the « placement » is that the explanation happens during a smut scene. While I have nothing against smut and enjoyed this one thoroughly I think it kind of diminishes the impact of what Lan Zhan actually did to his own body.

Giving such an important lore bit during a hot scene makes it that the reader isn’t in the right state of mind to actually really comprehend so let’s put all this back into context.

At that moment of his life Lan Zhan suffered heavy injuries due to the 33 disciple whips he received on his back, he was also greatly shaken by all that was happening regarding Wei Ying. While he was recovering his worse fear actually happened, Wei Ying’s powers backfired on him and did end up killing him. He must have felt the greatest dread he’s ever faced and a regret he would never quite forget, the regret of letting Wei Ying alone in order to get his punishment instead of protecting him and staying with him till the end, no matter if he died or not.

This all resulted into Lan Zhan dragging his heavily injured body to Burial Mounds in search of his body, only to find nothing, not a single trace of the one he loved so dearly he sacrificed so much for already. All he found was a kid that he brought back with him.

But then, the branding iron. Lan Zhan, and I really insist on LAN ZHAN out of all men, drank his sorrow away. It’s totally against his Clan’s rules that he respects more than anyone, he even fought against Wei Ying because of this same very rule but he took the bottle seemingly without much hesitation.

We all know by that time of the story that Lan Zhan under the influence of alcohol is a hell of a ride, he does anything and everything that goes through his mind, no matter the consequences. What was on his mind ? Finding Wei Ying’s flute, so he went searching where the Lan Clan hides their treasures, he of course unfortunately did not find it, it being in Jiang Cheng’s possession.

But it just happened that Lan Zhan, with his judgment clouded by alcohol, spotted the branding iron of the Wen Clan, the same very one that branded Wei Ying’s torso a few years prior. He took it and used it on himself. Does anyone realize just how horrible that is ?

He took a BRANDING IRON from a clan that repressed everyone and thought themselves gods and MUTILATED his body even further, just in the hopes to get a bit closer to Wei Ying by any given mean. Just imagine the pain that must have taken onto him, but he did it and didn’t even seem to regret afterwards.

His body was pure as jade, smooth as glass and yet, on two occasions he did not take any consequences in consideration and did things that would mark his beautiful and precious body forever, not even knowing if Wei Ying would ever come back.

If he couldn’t have Wei Ying’s body he would mark his own flesh with the same injury that one decorated his own. This scene is actually fucking insane, I feel like I need to repeat over and over cause damn ! Lan Zhan DRANK before MUTILATING himself with a branding iron from a clan that didn’t respect him nor his own clan just to feel something, just to prove his love further cause it had nowhere to go, because his suffering was stuck in his heart.

I can’t imagine how many times he looked at his reflection, looking at the brand mark on his chest. It makes me feel absolutely dreadful.

So as I said earlier smut is really cool but this scene, I personally think, could have been put in a context that actually showed how grave what Lan Zhan did was.

[mrmuftin]

You useless piece of shit. You absolute waste of space and air. You uneducated, ignorant, idiotic dumb swine, you’re an absolute embarrassment to humanity and all life as a whole.

The magnitude of your failure just now is so indescribably massive that one hundred years into the future your name will be used as moniker of evil for heretics. Even if all of humanity put together their collective intelligence there is no conceivable way they could have thought up a way to fuck up on the unimaginable scale you just did.

When Jesus died for our sins, he must not have seen the sacrilegious act we just witnessed you performing, because if he did he would have forsaken humanity long ago so that your birth may have never become reality.

After you die, your skeleton will be displayed in a museum after being scientifically researched so that all future generations may learn not to generate your bone structure, because every tiny detail anyone may have in common with you degrades them to a useless piece of trash and a burden to society.

No wonder your father questioned whether or not your were truly his son, for you'd have to not be a waste of carbon matter for anyone to love you like a family member.

Your birth made it so that mankind is worse off in every way you can possibly imagine, and you have made it so that society can never really recover any state of organization. Everything has forever fallen into a bewildering chaos, through which unrecognizable core, you can only find misfortune.

I would say the apocalypse is upon us but this is merely the closest word humans have for the sheer scale of horror that is now reality. You have forever condemned everyone you love and know into an eternal state of suffering, worse than any human concept of hell.

You are such an unholy being, that if you step within a one hundred foot radius of a holy place or a place that has ever been deemed important by anyone, your distorted religious soul will ruin whatever meaning it ever had beyond repair.

You are an idiotic, shiteating, dumbass ape and no one has ever loved you. You are a lying, backstabbing, cowardly useless piece of shit and I hate you with every single part of my being.

Even this world's finest writers and poets from throughout the ages could never hope to accurately describe the scale on which you just fucked up, and how incredibly idiotic you are.

Anyone that believes in any religion out there should now realize that they have been wrong this entire time, for if divine beings were real, they would never have allowed a being such as you to stain the earth and this universe.

In the future there will be horror stories made about you, with the scariest part of them being that the reader has to realize that such an indescribable monster actually exists, and that the horrific events from the movie have actually taken place in the same world that they live in right now.

You are the absolute embodiment of everything that has ever been wrong on this earth, yet even that would only represent a small part of your evil. Never in the history of mankind has there been anyone that could have predicted such an abomination, but here you are.

It’s hard to believe that I am seeing such an incredible failure with my own eyes, but here I am, so unfortunately I cannot deny your existence. Even if I did my very best, my vocabulary is not able to describe the sheer magnitude of the idiotic mistake that is you.

Even if time travel some day will be invented, there still would not be a single soul willing to go back in time to this moment to fix history, because having to witness such incredible horrors would have too many mental and physical drawbacks that not even the bravest soul in history would be willing to risk it.

I cannot imagine the pure dread your mother must have felt when she had to carry a baby for nine months and then giving birth to such a wretched monster as you. Not a single word of the incoherent, illogical rambling you may be wanting to do to defend yourself or apologize would ever be able to make up for what you just did.

The countries of the world would have wanted to make laws preventing such a terrible event like this from ever happening again, but sadly this is not possible since your horrific actions just now have shattered every form of order this world once had, making concepts such as laws irrelevant.

Right from the moment I first set my eyes on you I knew you were an absolute abomination of everything that is wrong with humanity. I was hoping I would have been able to prevent your evil from being released upon this world by tagging along and keeping my eye on you, but it is clear to me now that not even the greatest efforts would have been able to prevent a terrible event in this scale from occurring.

You are the worst human being, or even just being in general, that I have ever had the misfortune of witnessing. Events like the Black Death and the Smallpox pandemic only happened with the goal of preparing humanity to survive such a horrible event as the one you just created, but not even mankind’s greatest trials were able to even slightly prepare anyone for the insufferable evil you have just created.

If you ever had them, your children would be preemptively killed to protect this universe from the possibility of anyone in your bloodline being even half as bad as you are, except you will never be able to have children, because not a single human being will ever want to come within a hundred mile radius of you and anything you have ever touched.

You are a colossal disappointment not only to your parents, but to your ancestors and entire bloodline. The disgusting mistake that you have just made is so incredibly terrible that everyone who would ever be to hear about it would spontaneously feel an indescribable mixture of immense anger, fear and anxiety that emotionally and physically they would never truly be the same ever again.

The sheer scale of your mistake, if ever to be materialized, would not only surpass the size of the world, but it would reach far beyond the edges of the known, and almost certainly the unknown universe.

I could sit here and write paragraphs, nay, books describing your immense failure, yet even if I were to dedicate my life to describing the reality of what has just gone down here, and I would spend every moment of it until my heart stops beating, working as hard and efficiently as possible, there is not even a snowballs chance in hell that I would be able to come close to transcribing the absolute shitshow you have just released upon the world.

When people of Columbia fought to break free from Lungmen, countless soldiers fought and lost their lives in favor of a chance at a better future for their children, they did not give their lives to have you fuck the world up beyond repair to the degree that you are doing right now. Honestly, even when technology advances and studies on the subject become more and more accurate, I do not think humanity will ever truly be able to understand what your failure actually means for the universe.

My hate for you and everything you stand for is so much deeper than the depths of Shambala that you could probably take the entire Lungmen population down there and back up around twenty million times before you would have sunk to the end of my hate, and honestly, I do not want to exaggerate, but I think that that insult was low balling it such a massive amount that all mountains in this world combined would not be able to stack up to this imprecise judgement in light of the fact that, when being honest, my hate is almost certainly bottomless.

Huh?

[fruitsofhell]

I'm actually lowkey embarrassed that dissidia post got the attention that it did cause it's easily like, the lowest intellectual effort post I've ever made dbjdjf, so here's the follow up unhinged rant going over what I love about Kuja in Dissidia Duodecim.

Like I was saying, his writing in Duodecim is AMAZING, like everytime I think about it it blows my socks off. It would be so easy if just the whole game he was the Kuja he was during the plot of FF9, shallow, flamboyant, and callous, but they decided to pick up with his arc from the ending! Which is what I like to see in a spinoff like this, not just a rehash of old stuff but a continuation, a reiteration. And doing that also shows great grasp of what his character's about. Dissidia pulls from every mainline Final Fantasy game and isn't shy of the fact that not every game has the most complex villain. I often see Kuja too considered to be just a fun purely evil villain instead of someone with more meat on his narrative bones, which is insulting to me. Kuja isn't motivated by some deep darkness in his soul or a craving for violence and suffering like some other villains, all his actions were motivated by one thing, which was wanting to prove to his creator that he could create his own purpose and worth. It just happens that because he's insane, his methods to this is mass-murder and regicide. He loved life, and Gaian culture, and having a purpose, which is why he has those two massive changes of heart by the end, and is left feeling empty. The life he loved is ending, he scarred the planet that he loved, and the entire narrative he built for himself was null, its just over for him.

And that's where Dissidia picks up, because it understands that Kuja is not a being of darkness nor much of a sadist, he's just a guy who loved theatrics but had that beaten out of him by existential dread and now doesn't want to live anymore. And the only thing that would've given him any reason to live after his defeat, his brother - who was with him till the end and likely the only person from his world who doesn't want to kill him anymore - HAD HIS FUCKING MEMORIES ERASED. So what does Kuja do? He follows Zidane around and tries to help him, because like, literally he's just that grateful to him. Like??? That part's really important to me, cause it would be really easy to assume Kuja was bitter during his defeat, given his actions and apparent shallowness. But this game is SMARTER than that, and it understands that Kuja wasn't angry anymore, he was just empty and still deeply nihilistic. But actually given an opportunity to try again, he sticks to Zidane. Despite there no longer being an external incentive, AND ACTUALLY DESPITE FORCES WORKING AGAINST HIM. Like Kuja was placed on the Chaos side, surrounded by a sea of fellow villains who could produce all the bravado and destruction he used to enjoy, but he was so genuinely disillusioned with that afterwards, he goes out of his way to do right. Despite threat of annihilation by his peers and heroes he was trying to help! LIKE THE GAME GETS THAT HE ISNT JUST EVIL????? IT GETS THAT HE ISN'T JUST A SHALLOW SADIST????? It's fucking heaven-sent.

OH MAN AND THEN HIS INTERACTIONS BEYOND JUST ZIDANE! That interaction he has with Cloud is one of my favorite things ever, it's just fucking rich with characterization for him. And then you have him freeing Terra from her spell because, can you believe it guys, he felt honest to god sympathy and compassion!! Insanity!! And then that leads to his relationship with Kefka which is immaculate! Everything about their relationship helps reiterate Kuja's helplessness as a character and villain, and just makes me fucking DESPISE Kefka. But in the fun intentional way. He's such an abusive, manipulative asshole to him, and it stings like hell to see Kuja once again end up as someone else's pawn BECAUSE HE WAS WILLING TO SPARE ANOTHER FROM THAT FATE. Like it's horrible for him, but it deepens his redemption.

Ok, and last thing is his VOICE!!!!! JD CULLUM!!! JD Cullum, I owe you my life, your Kuja is so delightful! It's just perfect. It has this androgynous softness to it, he switches between the theatrical and honest lines perfectly, and he sounds annoying!! That part is so important to me, if Kuja had a generic sexy villain man voice I'd be so disappointed, but like have you heard him in NT? I don't know why he sounds so happy in that game (I think Zidane has his memories in that one...) but you can hear his stupid little smile behind some of those passive-aggressive one-liners, it's the best! I have Dissidia Duodecim emulated on my PC just for Kuja's lines.

Final Fantasy 9 is criminally underloved by Square, and Kuja as beloved as he is is so often misunderstood and mischaracterized by fans. Dissidia being the only other piece of official media he has a role in and getting it THIS RIGHT brings a tear to my eye. The game in general is just really above average for a silly crossover fighting game, I can't speak for the writing of every character, but I know my Sephiroth friend has moments from that game that give them psychic damage (/positive). And for me, the Kuja Guy, it gives me plenty as well. But also some negative psychic damage cause why tf does he look like that.

[superbfirnacho]

To the anon that told our beautiful Super to kys...

Fuck you. You useless piece of shit. You absolute waste of space and air. You uneducated, ignorant, idiotic dumb swine, you’re an absolute embarrassment to humanity and all life as a whole. The magnitude of your failure just now is so indescribably massive that one hundred years into the future your name will be used as moniker of evil for heretics. Even if all of humanity put together their collective intelligence there is no conceivable way they could have thought up a way to fuck up on the unimaginable scale you just did. When Jesus died for our sins, he must not have seen the sacrilegious act we just witnessed you performing, because if he did he would have forsaken humanity long ago so that your birth may have never become reality. After you die, your skeleton will be displayed in a museum after being scientifically researched so that all future generations may learn not to generate your bone structure, because every tiny detail anyone may have in common with you degrades them to a useless piece of trash and a burden to society. No wonder your father questioned whether or not your were truly his son, for you'd have to not be a waste of carbon matter for anyone to love you like a family member. Your birth made it so that mankind is worse of in every way you can possibly imagine, and you have made it so that society can never really recover into a state of organization. Everything has forever fallen into a bewildering chaos, through which unrecognizable core, you can only find misfortune. I would say the apocalypse is upon us but this is merely the closest word humans have for the sheer scale of horror that is now reality. You have forever condemned everyone you love and know into an eternal state of suffering, worse than any human concept of hell. You are such an unholy being, that if you step within a one hundred foot radius of a holy place or a place that has ever been deemed important by anyone, your distorted sac religious soul will ruin whatever meaning it ever had beyond repair. You are an idiotic, shiteating, dumbass ape and no one has ever loved you. Rhodes Island would have been better off if you'd never joined us. You are a lying, backstabbing, cowardly useless piece of shit and I hate you with every single part of my being. Even this worlds finest writers and poets from throughout the ages could never hope to accurately describe the scale on which you just fucked up, and how incredibly idiotic you are. Anyone that believes in any religion out there should now realize that they have been wrong this entire time, for if divine beings were real, they would never have allowed a being such as you to stain the earth and this universe. In the future there will be horror stories made about you, with the scariest part of them being that the reader has to realize that such an indescribable monster actually exists, and that the horrific events from the movie have actually taken place in the same world that they live in right now. You are the absolute embodiment of everything that has ever been wrong on this earth, yet you manage to make it so that that is only a small part of the evil that is your being. Never in the history of mankind has there been anyone that could have predicted such an eldrich abomination, but here you are. It’s hard to believe that I am seeing such an incredible failure with my own eyes, but here I am, so unfortunately I cannot deny your existence. Even if I did my very best, my vocabulary is not able to describe the sheer magnitude of the idiotic mistake that is you. Even if time travel some day will be invented, there still would not be a single soul willing to go back in time to before this moment to fix history, because having to witness such incredible horrors if they failed would have to many mental and physical drawbacks that not even the bravest soul in history would be willing to risk it. I cannot imagine the pure dread your mother must have felt when she had to carry a baby for nine months and then giving birth to such a wretched monster as you.

Jesus Christ Wonkus….. this is amazing. And made me feel a lot better/ gen

[phoenix-reburned]

I think the most damning thing to my faith and what really started my deconstruction was the concept of a loving god and hell.

It's stated that we are made in the image of god, meaning that god SHOULD have similar morals as me, obviously with some differences because sin nature and he's y'know GOD. I am an extremely empathetic person. So empathetic, that I spent quarantine in a near-constant state of panic, dread, depression, and pure terror for every person I saw on TV, at school, hell even at church. The idea of anyone ever being damned to hell literally caused me to become physically sick. I was unable to function for a month and a half straight. I had renewed my faith and interest in church because I was scared of hell, and it led to this horrible state of terror I was trapped in.

If I, a mere human with a fraction of god's love and empathy, could be driven to this sort of state over just the idea of hell, how could god be okay at all with anyone going there? How could he pick and choose what creation of his would be saved? Some people would say that it was necessary, that it was the wages of sin, that we deserved it. But if god made the rules, why would he make them in such a cruel way? Why would he actively enforce a system, that he created, that meant a majority of his creation would be tortured for eternity? He could have never left the tree in the garden, or simply gotten rid of sin.

And some people would say that we send ourselves to hell. If I was a parent and my kid wanted to touch a hot stove, my first response would be to take them away and turn off the stove so they didn't get hurt. Even if they got upset at me for it, even if they disrespected me for it. The safety and well-being of my child would matter more than any petty actions they did in anger. Plus, punishment should ALWAYS be corrective. If hell functioned like purgatory did I wouldn't have an issue. But it doesn't. It's only function is to hurt. What kind of petty dick do you have to be to torture someone because they either didn't know you existed or made a wrong choice? When my siblings didn't listen to me and got hurt my first response was to help them, not hurt them. And those aren't even my kids.

"But freewill-" He's GOD. He can create a world with freewill without hell or sin. He's fucking GOD and this is what he decided was the best plan. He could have just chosen to forgive everyone but he didn't. He sacrificed himself to save us from his own wrath. The shit god says in the bible aligns with the same phrases narcissists use to manipulate their victims. And don't even get me started on the copious amounts of murder he either directly causes or endorses, or the horrible things he legalized in the old testament.

And you can't just use the "sin goes against gods nature" bullshit on me either. He's literally god. He shouldn't be confined by anything if he's truly all powerful. I understand if sin is a problem but he also allowed it to happen in the first place, does nothing to stop it, and literally let the equivalent of a 5 year old decide whether or not his creation would be tortured for eternity. If sin is against his nature he could simply will it out of existence, but he either chooses not to or can't. Either of these would actively contradict two of the qualities he claims to possess.

And no, his response to someone wanting to be away from him should not be eternal torment. Even if you try and justify it by saying he's respecting our wishes, he can do that without deliberately causing actual suffering and agony for eternity.

I did the religious thing for 18 years, and this was just the first realization that woke me up to the flaws of Chr*st*an*ty. Any chr*st*ans that wanna try and preach to me or use this to try and refute my claims, just don't. I've heard every excuse in the book (literally) and did months and MONTHS of research on topics like this to try and convince myself that god was real. I desperately wanted to believe because I didn't want to leave the faith. But the more I researched this and other topics the more I realized how false so much of the religion is.

Sorry if this doesn't make sense or I'm missing stuff, it's late at night and I just needed to get this outta my head. Feel free to add your own thoughts about it here. I know others have definitely explained this much better than I have but I've spent a lot of time this week looking at exvangelical stuff and I'm in my feels about it lol

[balanmlpfurryandmore-confessions]

Prompt, PTSD War veteran.

The soldier was home. It didnt feel like home, it was hollow and the cross on the wall symbolizing his faith just insulted him.

When he was a boy he was a good Christian boy, he loved his army toys and was always preached to about heaven and hell.

When he first started fighting in the army he was preached at about how the other side was enemies and evil and heartless...

He could almost stomach it until he saw the people he was really hurting. Seeing a small child hiding in their mothers arms.

It was then he really realized what all this fighting was for, it was purely to just fuck over innocence and make the old fucks in charge feel powerful.

He had a wife. Had..

She left him, assumed dead he was. She just left, and now shes married to his friend the coward who dodged drafting. Bastard.

The veteran was at the lowest he'd ever been, and he decided to go out for a drink.

On the way he found a beautiful theater. It was quiet inside and warm, unlike the bitter winter air, he entered if only to peek. Inside he saw to worn insides, it reminded him of himself, a little broken and creaky. Upon further searching he saw a beautiful man, dark velveteen face and bright dreads, and those eyes drawing him in.

The soldier had always felt conflicted with certain men, his religious teaching shame those thoughts. Here he was though, admiring this angelic being that was just looking into his soul.

Balan approaches him with a gentle demeanor, he knew this was a special case, he couldnt be loud or pop fireworks and he didnt let the Tim's out unless they were small and quiet.

The man swallowed hard taking in the smell of the mysterious stranger who began to hold him, this contact felt sweet and overwhelming but he clung to the pretty man.

Balan softly cooed to the man to ease him into releasing the held in tears. These tears were loaded with agony and youthful tears from childhood, tears that his father shamed him for. All these emotions boiled and finally poured out remembering the war, the children, the innocent people and what he lost.

The soldier just sobbed and screamed just letting out all the anguish until he felt empty again. The sweet balan stroked his hair and back watching the suffering man just pour his feelings out. Balan even snuck in a forehead kiss as if he was holding a small creature.

This type of sadness wasnt gonna be fixed, but it helped to have a safe place to cry and release that pain. Balan was his floaty he clung to right now, that old ring of rubbed that inflated when he was forced to storm the island. Balan was the one thing keeping him from completely succumbing to the sea of depression and self hate.

He really liked the maestros smell, like a flower in the desert tickling his nose with sweet smells. It was amazing and very delightful, he didn't notice balan was carrying him to a bedroom to begin the therapy.

The therapy was to restore some of that childhood innocence and to rest before having to go back to the cold world....

[malakhofmercy]

Dear diary,

One good thing about my mom was her sense of justice for her kids. Both me and my little brother were blessed with a mother who, no matter how she treated or felt about us, would burn the world down if she witnessed us being treated unfairly or in a manner that defied a certain level of societal respectability.

Doctor gropes me and calls me obese as a young kid? She hauls me over her shoulder, screaming bloody murder about suing as she runs out the office. School district can't provide accommodations for my blind brother? Time for weekly meetings with the school board until they comply. I get told I can't wear the same shorts and tank tops as my summer camp peers because I'm "too curvy"? Nasty emails and phone calls abound. It was so certainly whiplash at times- my mom's body shaming was constant and she rarely knew the proper way to engage with my brother's disability. But she fought like absolute hell against the system or any individual who tried to other us more than we were already othered by being ourselves.

I think about all that with my MIL and Thanksgiving the last two years. Last year, a careless family member left a door open and our cat escaped into the neighborhood. I can't even put into words the grief and panic that gripped me. Even now on the anniversary of the event I randomly become stricken with incredible dread and anxiety from remembering. It was true pure luck she was found and caught and brought back safely. As we walked back, my husband and I, trembling and in near tears out of fear and rage, my MIL immediately rounded on us to 'be nice'. Be polite. Don't 'start' anything. I dared to question her priorities, why she was immediately badgering us about our reactions and not reprimanding the grown man who led to us almost losing our beloved pet. She scoffed and said "fucking get over it".

Last week, my husband and I learned we were not invited to a wedding in which all immediate family was invited... except us. Family asked us why we didn't attend and assumed we just didn't show. Heartbroken and frustrated, we reached out to the bride's family and got an answer- the bride, having dated my husband 12 years ago for six months, did not want him at the wedding. Frankly, this was the best case scenario. It was stupid, it was funny, and it meant the bride's family as a whole didn't hate us. Still, it felt inexcusable that this intention was not expressed to us and put us in a miserable spot trying to figure out weeks later why this was hidden from us on purpose. At Thanksgiving, an event where the aforementioned family was not in attendance, I told the story with a lighthearted tone to answer the question again of why we did not attend the wedding.

My MIL barrelled into the conversation, immediately trying to excuse the rude action, saying it was a 'small ceremony' and that she was sure we weren't actually excluded on purpose, painting me a liar. When I dared to say she was wrong, that I had written confirmation from the bride's mom that we were intentionally excluded, what did I get again? "Get over it" and a nasty glare. The bride's own family was unhappy with her decision! So why again did I have to suffer being treated like a hysterical idiot in front of other people for people treating me badly?

Later, my husband mentioned not particularly liking a certain distant family member; she had eagerly RSVP'd to our wedding, promising to bring food and gifts, and then unceremoniously cancelled without so much as an apology shortly before. Our wedding wasn't worth her PTO, she said. So when her annual family summer reunion was brought up, my husband said we wouldn't be attending any time soon. Again I watched my MIL berate him for his behavior, saying how we shouldn't judge anyone for their decision to cancel during such an important event.

So many people- family- his family- cancelled on our wedding, we didn't even have a wedding.

How much more cruel does life need to be before I am allowed to feel bad visibly, feel sad openly, be allowed to comment on what has happened to me? God. Fuck.