#the point is to TORMENT

[cuppajj]

i had a vision

[platoapproved]

Wherever your miserable life takes you, whoever you find to endure time with, whatever pale proxy of me... I'll be with him. Just wanted you to know that.

[tawnysoup]

clearly y'all arent giving this cute indie game enough attention so im going to spam u with the art ive made so far (yes even tho its messy bc im learning how to draw the characters. and also ive only been brave enough to draw oliver and ángel so far) go play detective beebo rn its only 6 hours long and its free at https://bwobbers.itch.io/detective-beebo-night-at-the-mansion

plus bonus beebo mirabelle clothes swap at the prompting of friends. beebs n meebs. this is detective meebo and housemaiden beebelle

[s0fter-sin]

trans!soap taking his baby and running away from his rich abusive husband

(cw angst, financial abuse, single threat of child abuse, single mention of transphobia)

he's owned soap for years, since he was a teenager; paid for his medication and all his surgeries and tied them so deeply, soap’s lost hope of ever getting away. he gets even worse when soap falls pregnant. he was always controlling; blowing up at him if he spent too long out of the house or did something without telling him. but he becomes utterly possessive during the pregnancy

soap knows it has nothing to do with his safety or the baby's

he knows he sees his baby as an investment; another being he can control and hold over him

he gets worse and worse but there’s nothing soap can do. there's been nothing he can do for a long time. then a few months after the baby is born, soap doesn’t watch his tone closely enough and his husband threatens to drop his baby in punishment for it

soap doesn't think. he doesn't plan

he takes his baby and runs

he sneaks out of the servant's quarters of the sterile mansion he's been forced to live in for almost a decade and walks down the street without a backwards glance; his baby the only thing in his arms. he knows all of his husband's cars have trackers, all of them in his name since he never lets soap drive or go anywhere by himself, so he walks far enough to be out of view of the mansion's cameras and steals one. it doesn't have a car seat and all he can do is clutch his baby to his chest as he drives

he doesn't know where he's going beyond away

he doesn't know what he's going to do; he doesn't have any money, no supplies for his baby, he doesn't even have water for himself so he can reliably breastfeed him. he's terrified his husband will find them; he’s always felt omniscient, always everywhere and seeing everything he did. if he didn’t have eyes somewhere, he paid someone who did and they always dutifully reported back to him

soap just keeps his eyes forward. just keeps driving and driving, lost to the road and numb until the low gas light pops up on the dash and it all hits him at once

he turns into a gas station he can't pay for, in a car he stole, and parks behind it and his baby immediately starts getting fussy

he can't even call him by his name sometimes; too afraid to get attached, too afraid to lose him. as if he doesn’t love him more than life itself

even throughout his pregnancy, as happy as he was to finally have a baby, he didn't know if he could carry to term and that fear just let his husband dig his claws in even deeper; paying for extra scans he could never hope to pay for, favours on top of favours so he would aways owe him and isn’t he such a loving husband? taking soap in when his parents kicked him out for being trans, looking after him for all these years? you can’t even take care of yourself john, you’d still be a woman without me, john, what is this tantrum about john-

soap tugs his shirt up to let his baby feed, drops his head back and cries

he can't stop it; wails loud and uncontrolled, chest heaving with his sobs enough that it sways his baby, occasionally breaking his latch and he can't even do this right-

he can't save him

a light knock sounds on the window and soap flinches, curling over his baby to protect him from his huband's cruel hands

but it's not his husband outside the window

soap blinks tears from his eyes and looks at the large stranger standing beside the car. a neck gaiter covers his mouth and it should be off-putting… but something about him stops the feeling in its tracks. the stranger takes a half-step back and lifts a chilled and sealed water bottle, pressing it towards the window

soap quickly swipes his face clean and rolls down the window. "sorry 'bout that," he apologises with a choked laugh, the careful front he’s built over the years cracked and bleeding

the stranger gives a dismissive but somehow not diminishing shrug. "long day?" he asks

"could say that," he gives a shrug of his own and pats his baby's back as he makes a disgruntled noise, unconsciously swaying him

he politely keeps his gaze up on his face. "looks like you could use a break."

soap's breath hitches, anxiously darting his tongue out over his bottom lip. "could say that," he repeats uselessly and takes the water with a quiet “thanks,”; his throat dry and screaming for it after crying so hard

the stranger hums, watching him down the bottle and soap doesn’t notice his eyes drifting to the backseat and footwell of the passenger side. doesn’t notice the slight tension in his fists at what he sees. "how long you been runnin', lad?"

soap freezes, the water settling in his stomach like a stone. he swallows thickly and the bottle falls from his lips

"not long enough."

the stranger just nods, looking idly back down the highway

"you know, this place is connected to a garage,” he starts, nodding back to a building attached to the station without taking his eyes off the road. “lotta people drift through 'ere on road trips; too many to keep track.”

soap frowns slightly, shifting his hold on his baby

“funny thing is, plenty of 'em just abandon their car when they break down. like yours,” he adds and finally turns back to him with a pointed look. “got a whole junkyard of 'em. just rustin' away. be pretty easy to convince me to trade ya one."

soap’s mouth parts in a gasp as he realises just what the stranger’s saying. "how easy?" he whispers

he shrugs and even with his face hidden beneath the gaiter, he doesn’t feel afraid. "i'd say this car'd be a good deal. would blend right in with the rest of ‘em; no one’d ever notice it. what say i take it off your hands?"

soap's breath shudders out of him, his whole body going limp with relief. his baby's eyes fall shut with a satisfied hum and for the first time he can remember, he feels the gentle touch of hope

"i think we can work something out."

🧼💀

ghost owns the service station soap pulled into. he wanted something quiet and isolated after he retired and you can’t get much quieter than a backwoods servo surrounded by forest. he hasn’t had anyone pull in in days so he’s quick to notice soap’s car. he’s also quick to notice soap's subsequent breakdown in one of the cameras. the sight of him crying, desperately clutching a baby like they’re all he has left in the world, is so familiar he felt sick with it

he knows someone running when he sees it

if he didn't check on him, if this lad disappeared one day and the baby along with him, he'd never forgive himself. the lad doesn't even have a baby bag or car seat with him, and the personalised sticker on the back window of a lady and a dog is a dead giveaway that the car is stolen

but the lad is terrified. and when he startled him, he didn't turn. didn’t lift his arms to protect himself. no

he covered his baby

like he was afraid he'd be hurt

that's enough for ghost

🧼💀

i'd wanna set this in the 80's or 90's, just to make it even harder for soap to get away from his husband. he's a trans man with a newborn; he has no one to run to and no resources to help him. his husband's bought and paid for everything for him since he was 17; a few whirlwind weeks of unbelievable dates and extravagant gifts and he was living in his mansion, getting married the day after his 18th birthday. he thought it was love. thought he was being looked after and cared for the way he’s always wanted

he was in pain and alone and naive enough to believe the first person who came along and promised to make it better. nothing's in his name, not his insurance or his meds, he doesn’t have a bank account or savings; other than a birth certificate, nothing even ties him to his baby. his husband could take his world away from him with a snap of his fingers and he made sure soap always knew it

he never had a chance of getting away

but ghost is ex-military

he doesn’t know the lad’s story, doesn’t know the details of what he’s running from. he doesn’t need to know

he decided he was helping him the second he pulled into his service station

[mohntilyet]

illario + lucanis growing up together means a lot for obvious reasons ofc like the fact they did not have to go through the dellamorte villa torment nexus alone really helps. immediately from the moment they are taken to that house, lucanis has had something to protect and love. the snark and jokes that they share in wigmaker job finally having a chance to shine outside of the only person lucanis is socialised with and he learns that wow, he's actually likable. because up until this point everyone around him calls him a demon and is freaked out by him but ofc the veilguard only know him as lucanis "he banished harding from the kitchen" dellamorte. sure he's a big bad crow assassin but his reputation simply does not carry that much weight with people who are just equally deranged (maybe a de riva rook but that's also a little different) . and then he's able to share and extend that love with his new friends, and able to try being something that he's not had the chance to before, and his goodness is actively encouraged rather than being an unfortunate sidequest that is tolerated. and i fondly think also of how much of that humor is copied and mirrored off illario ("shoulders....... feeling tight...... need a ..... MASSAGE!") and it's his best experiences with illario that turned him into the man he is. wish the game explored this just a little more because the betrayal would have been made a lot more intense if they had just bothered to show any of illario's redeeming qualities. he has them!!!!! nobody is just born a traitor. you have to love someone before they can become that.

[devilsminionworlddomination]

Iwtvtober day 25 - thirst

an older piece I think fit the theme BECAUSE I WILL CATCH UP AND POST ON TIME AT LEAST ONCE

[turtleblogatlast]

Leo getting hit with a truth curse but instead of forcing him to admit to super sad or worrying things it’s things like “it was me who broke the remote” “I saw Mikey prank Donnie and helped hide it because it’s way funnier if he didn’t know who it was” “I rip my clothes to look more like Raph’s because he’s really cool” “my stripes aren’t even red they’re pink!”

[crnl-chicken-tots]

Logan's worst nightmare: he can't escape Wade even during sleep.

The concept is rather confusing for him, but then again, they did just encounter 100 other types of Deadpools - what's one more?

[creekfiend]

it's not like I enjoy regular nightmares or anything but I think that the worst kind of dreams that I have are actually false awakening dreams, which seem like an unusually malicious thing for a brain to do. it's like if your brain transformed into a very stereotypical comic book villain and then kidnapped itself. like why do we even have this lever. I wonder that about many functions of sleep though. there are a lot of levers that we should not have installed up there I think

[tweedfrog]

Dirty Blonde Heterochromia Alyssa Targaryen looking on from the afterlife because her son's valyrian supremacist ideologies have conjured her up in his oedipal dreams looking like dragonlord baddie #785 instead of what she actually looked like

[anghraine]

It's wild to me that I had heard of the prime Kirk/Spock content in various TOS episodes long before I saw them, but had never heard of what IMO is the shippiest moment of all thus far, in an interestingly O_o goddamn I do not want whatever you two have but you do you?? holy shit though what a moment way.

I'm of course referring to the otherwise rather mid episode "Requiem for Methuselah," in which Kirk has an underwritten love affair with a clueless woman whose various secrets have to be discovered before her inevitable death.

At one point in this relationship, her.......uh, guardian??? sort of???????? had Spock play the piano while she and Kirk waltzed, which (in-story) Spock did perfectly while somehow managing to silently exude even more intensity than usual. After the plot (and her life) were over, we end not with the usual cheerful bit of snark on the bridge that ends most episodes, but with a weary Kirk falling asleep with his head on his arms and Spock hovering not for away. McCoy exposits the last bit of detail and then goes on an unprompted and honestly pretty viciously racist speech about how Spock, unlike Kirk, will never suffer from the joys and travails of love because of his inherent lack of feeling as a Vulcan. The speech is longer than usual and just really mean-spirited as McCoy waxes rhapsodic about all the aspects of passionate true love that Spock will not and cannot experience as a Vulcan before he just leaves.

Spock then turns to look at Kirk, and now just bleeding intensity, takes a few slow, deliberate steps towards the sleeping Kirk, lays his hand against Kirk's cheek and neck, and then very obviously mind melds with the sleeping Kirk while murmuring, "Forget."

Is this healthy respectful behavior that honors Kirk's autonomy? No, obviously. Is it god-tier repressed homoerotic passion between two people who should probably just work their issues out and stop inflicting themselves on anyone else? Yes.

[telleroftime]

Takuma strikes me as a man that would break if you call him "pretty boy."

He had called you something similar amongst the swarm of other compliments praising your appearance because he wants you to know just how beautiful you are to him. "Beauty", "sunshine", or in general "my pretty", not expecting anything in return. He just hopes it would tease you a little, make you all flustered. But nope, you retaliate with "you're one to talk, pretty boy."

And he's just there like "huh?" Not a single thought behind his eyes as his smile morphs into an awkward grin. You're worried until you notice that giveaway red of his ears. Before you can say anything he speaks a louder "huh??!!", trying to hide behind his beanie as if that would ever stop what was about to come.

Because ain't no way you are letting this slide. It is "pretty boy" after "pretty boy" with every opportunity you get. And when you call him "my pretty boy" in front of Nanami? He melts. He is melting, face as red as a beet, unable to form even a word as he just whines from how flustered he feels.

[thermodynamic-comedian]

imagine ianthe's suffering rn. its so funny to me. girl all u wanted was power and i respect that but turns out that the side effect of power isnt the moral implications or whatever, its dealing with god's personal drama.

[ckret2]

It's been several times now I've had to dip out of a bill redemption fic because they're just going too fast. Like they have the guy out here apologizing before chapter TEN. No way in hell. We need at LEAST 500,000 more words

I think mine took about 300k words before he issued any apologies.

And it wasn't even for like, Weirdmageddon, or all that manipulation and torture he did. He apologized for implying Mabel's dumb. And nothing else.

So I'm with you there, I feel like a Bill redemption oughta be slow as molasses.

[minnadekanpai]

if alan does not end up covered in blood during this chapter like he always does i will crash out

[nicktoons-unite-incorrect-quotes]