#the punishment will come after they understand their wrongs ^^

[writing-zelda-brainrots]

Listen. Re:Zero is my favourite anime. Let me just yap about this for a minute.

One idea that I keep finding myself returning to when thinking about Linked Universe fanfics is the idea of [Name] having Return by Death from Re:Zero. I have many thoughts.

For those of you unfamiliar with the series, Return by Death is Subaru’s ability to return to a specific, predetermined point in time every time he dies. The user of this ability cannot change or choose where these ‘savepoints’ are, they change automatically at seemingly random (basically, think of them as the world ‘autosaving’ from time to time).

The user of RbD cannot tell anyone about this power, as the one in control of this authority can punish the user by squeezing their heart (basically giving them a heart attack) or by killing the person the user was talking to. Though it is important to note that this restriction goes for telling about RbD directly, so if the user speaks about it indirectly (for example in riddles/confusing metaphors) or if the listener does not understand/think much of the user's mutterings/ramblings, the curse will not take effect.

The user of RbD is almost always marked with a stench of ‘evil’ that makes them irresistible to monsters, leading them to lock onto and attack the user. Though the smell is mostly faint (not even noticeable to most people) a majority of the time, it becomes stronger when RbD or the curse activates. So, the more recent the death or punishment, the stronger the smell.

You better hope that none of the Links find out about this power or how many loops you've gone through (not that the curse would let you tell anyone, anyway). It would shatter them. All they know is that when you suddenly start tweaking, it’s time to lock in. It’s not that they ‘get used to’ your odd (to put it mildly) behaviour, but they do learn to back off and kind of just let it happen after you tell them to not worry about it. It’s still unnerving, but they don’t know what to do other than offer their concerns, since you never want to explain yourself.

Time realises quickly that something is up with you. You seem to know what’s going to happen ahead of time, even if you try to not make it obvious, you’re constantly planning ahead and removing yourself from the group to ‘collect your thoughts’ when you think no one would notice. He’s seen your mood shift dramatically at the drop of a hat. One minute you’re fine, laughing and joking, and suddenly you look like you’re about to have a mental breakdown or you wake up screaming bloody murder. Eventually, it all starts to feel awfully similar to how he was whenever he travelled through time. And all the pieces start to fit into place when he realises this. You have some ability related to time travel/clairvoyance, he just doesn't know how it works. But he is determined to figure it out, even if you never want to give him an answer, always avoiding the topic and trying to lead his attention somewhere else.

Despite how much Warriors teases you for being a ‘scaredy cat,’ he honestly thinks you’re irreplaceable. You’ve gotten the group out of many sticky situations, so much so that you must have some kind of future sight or the goddesses have gifted you with the most brilliant strategic mind in history. You always have a plan, you’ve never made a mistake, you can come up with an idea that’ll get them the best possible outcome all in the blink of an eye. If only they knew… Now if only he could do something about that stupid ‘self sacrificial’ habit of yours.

When forming a plan, he wants your input. When you say that the group should avoid an area, he takes that into consideration, even if when questioned, you say that it’s because you just ‘have a feeling.’ You have yet to be proven wrong in his eyes. He’s almost jealous of you. You unmasked a whole group of Yiga soldiers after being in town for less than a day, all based on tiny ‘hints’ that you noticed (little does anyone know that it took you about 8 loops to figure that mess out). Maybe you should be the head strategist of the group, huh? Not up for it? Alright, fine, but at least try to not steal his thunder, okay?

Hyrule is like Warriors, but way more. He believes you’re the coolest person to ever exist, even more worthy of the ‘hero’ title than him. You’re undoubtedly the weakest in the group, but you never give up, you’re still out there fighting because you believe you all can win. He’d trust you with his life if you asked. Travelling with the Chain made him realise how much he needed positive connections with others, so he wants to be there for you too, especially given he’s seen your ‘mood swings’ and self worth plummet. He is your number 1 supporter, just like you’re constantly inspiring him and others around you.

He also finds that he’s often healing you. He’s noticed that on days when you’re really out of it, you inflict harm onto yourself for reasons he can’t fathom. You’d scratch yourself until you begin to bleed, usually on your arms, but sometimes on your neck as well. He’s tried to snap you out of it, and while it does usually work, he can never get you to stop for good.

Hoo boy. Twilight. So you know how he almost died? Yeah, turns out that that injury was a ‘canon event’ that you cannot change. When you forced a RbD (in other words, you killed yourself), you found out that the fight had already happened and your last respawn point was set afterwards. That was the first time that Twilight realised that there was something seriously wrong with you. While Rulie was passed out from using too much magic, and the others wouldn’t dare enter the room for various reasons, and he was falling in and out of consciousness, you stood by his bedside, hardly able to choke back tears, apologising for ‘not being able to fix this.’

Of course, he had noticed that smell on you, how it seemed to fluctuate at random but still sticking to you, and how monsters were drawn to you like moths to a flame whenever that smell spiked. It reminded him of the Twili magic that clung to him. Could you have been affected by something similar? But by what and what did it do to you other than make you an irresistible target to monsters? This and other factors cause him to be very protective of you, similarly with how he is with Wild.

Wild is down for your crazy plans, even if he has to admit that some of them sound dicey at the very best. But you have the devil’s own luck and he’s honestly thankful that you’re the lucky one out of everyone.

While he is glad that others (including himself, of course) have high opinions of you, he’s keeping a close eye on you and how much pressure is put on you. While he might not remember much of his ‘previous life,’ he’s all too familiar with what happens when expectations are piled onto someone. Because of this, he’s trying to joke and laugh with you, telling embarrassing stories because he wants people to remember that you’re a person, not a walking list of accomplishments. But should you ask for his help, he’s not going to say ‘no.’

I want you to know that of all of the links, Legend is the one most determined to know what is up with you. Yes, he teases you the same way that Warriors does, but he recognises that you are deeply messed up (takes one to know one, bitch). He’s seen that faroff, dead look in your eyes and it felt so real that - if it was not for you blinking - he could swear he was looking at your corpse.

He once cornered you (literally) in an attempt to get you to tell the truth, but when he noticed that genuine fear in your eyes, he backed off. He swears that he’ll get to the bottom of it, but knows that forcing it out of you won’t help. Even if your ‘stubbornness’ is wearing his patience thin.

Sky is basically your therapy dog. You know how his Zelda was always standing up for him? Well, now he’s doing that with you. He knows a bullying victim when he sees one. He sticks close to you when in new places and should you show any signs of discomfort, tries to distract you.

One thing that makes him nervous though, is what happens when you come into contact with the Master Sword; it burns you. With some help from Twilight, Sky knows that there’s a ‘curse’ on you, which would explain some things about you. He doesn’t like how the sword’s power isn’t enough to get rid of it, like it could with Legend’s transformations. Whatever this curse is, it’s powerful and won’t be easy to get rid of. Not like he’ll give up on finding a cure.

Four is surprised at how quickly you begin to pick up on swordplay. Did he teach you some of those moves? He’s sure he would have remembered it if he had. Maybe Sky taught you? The Skyloft knight was the best swordsman in the group, so it’s possible. But something keeps nagging at him that that wasn’t the case.

You’re hiding something. Something big; he’s absolutely certain of it. And he knows that the others know too. Still, it’s not like none of them have secrets they’re sitting on. But what could possibly be so important that you won’t tell them? It’s not that he doesn’t trust you, you’ve shown time and time again that you’re an amazing person. It’s just that he feels a little hurt that you don’t trust them enough to tell them what’s going on with you. They’re all worried about you, but if it really means that much to you, he’s sure that you’ll tell them eventually.

Wind wants to make bets with you on basically anything and everything. Is it going to rain today? Who will be the first to trip on a rock and fall flat on their face? Will the next portal lead the group to his era? Yes, these questions are often silly, but he genuinely wants to keep you happy. That’s why he’s constantly sticking to your side, telling jokes and stories, inviting you to play some stupid game of chase. Wind is a lot more emotionally intelligent than many assume (mostly because they underestimate him due to his age), so he can tell when your mental health is about to take a nosedive, despite the happy ‘mask’ that you put on.

One person who you never thought would ‘understand’ you is the Fierce Deity. You have no idea how or why, but it seems like he holds you in very high regard. Not necessarily for your physical strength or weapon skills (lord knows you could never match him or any of the Links), but he seems to ‘get’ you, like he… Respects you? He can’t help but see you as a warrior in your own right. He looks at you and he sees that look in your eyes; the look of someone who has seen death many times. It’s a trait that is highly valued among warriors (because it shows experience) and often even seen as ‘attractive.’

He is actually the only one who learns the truth about you. Fierce has seen Time repeat the day night cycle over and over so many times, so he’s more than familiar with the concept of time travel. But when he learned the method behind your power - when, in a last ditch effort, you put the mask on and his mind and memories fused with yours - his respect for you shot up sky high, but he’s also incredibly worried about you. The toll that your ability has already taken on you is immense and he knows that it’ll only get worse as the group gets closer to defeating the one behind the portals. It’s times like these that he wishes he had the knowledge and ability to give you comfort. Yes, he has more than enough strength to protect you in a fight, but being locked away in a mask (one that his host refuses to use), leaves him useless.

All he can hope for is that you two could get a moment alone, where he can tell you that ‘he knows,’ and let you let out all the emotions that you’ve been forced to bottle up for much too long. If you want to use him as a shoulder to cry on and vent out everything you’ve gone through, he’ll let you. As for why he can’t be killed by the curse, it’s because his status as a literal deity is protecting him.

[tinytinyblogs]

Hey can you do yandere skz punishments

Punishment time darling

They give you everything you could ever want, but crossing them is a mistake you’ll never want to make.

Hyung line, Maknae line (coming soon)

Stray Kids Masterlist 1.0 & 2.0

Your insights and reactions make these posts come alive. Love reblogs, comments, and all the good vibes welcome ✨

Chan

Bang Chan isn’t one to act impulsively, not when it comes to you. He’s always calculating, always planning. When you disobey him, he doesn’t explode in anger like someone else might. No, Chan prefers something quieter, something more effective. He believes punishment should teach a lesson, not waste energy. And when it comes to you, he wants you to feel the weight of your guilt, to truly understand why you were wrong. Isolation is his preferred method. It’s clean, controlled, and, most importantly, it works. The first time he catches you breaking one of his unspoken rules—talking to someone he doesn’t approve of, going somewhere without telling him—he doesn’t raise his voice. Instead, he gives you a long, measured look, the kind that sends a chill down your spine. His usual warmth is gone, replaced by something colder, sharper. Later, when it’s just the two of you, he sits you down. The air feels heavy, suffocating. His voice is low and calm, almost tender. “Think about it, darling. I’m doing this for your own good,” he says, his expression carefully crafted to appear apologetic, though his eyes betray something darker. “If I’m not protecting you, who will? This world is too dangerous for someone like you. Without me… you’re nothing.” The words sting, but they also confuse you.

He delivers them with such conviction, such unwavering certainty, that a part of you begins to question yourself. Maybe he’s right. Maybe you were careless, ungrateful even. He leans closer, his hand brushing against yours as if to comfort you. “You’ll understand soon enough,” he murmurs. And then it begins. Subtly, at first. Your phone mysteriously stops working, and when you ask about it, Chan is quick to offer an excuse. “It’s better this way. You don’t need all those distractions.” Your friends start to drift away—he makes sure of it, carefully orchestrating misunderstandings and missed calls until you have no one left to turn to. Your schedule becomes eerily predictable, revolving entirely around him. He insists it’s for your benefit, that it’s safer this way. The isolation creeps in slowly, but it’s relentless. The world you once knew shrinks until it consists of only him. And every time you try to protest, he’s ready with the same disarming smile and soothing words. “I know this feels harsh, but it’s because I love you. You’ll thank me someday.” Yet, no matter how gentle his tone, there’s no mistaking the steel beneath it. Bang Chan doesn’t give second chances. By the time you realize the full extent of his control, it’s too late. You’re trapped, and he knows it. And to him, that’s exactly as it should be.

Minho

If Minho grows quiet and his sharp gaze locks onto you, it’s never a good sign. When you talk back to him or let your emotions run wild, and he remains silent, it’s far worse than anger—it’s dangerous. His silence is not passivity; it’s a storm waiting to unfold. Minho doesn’t like wasting energy, and why should he? When he acts, it’s always calculated, deliberate, and impactful, ensuring you won’t dare to repeat your mistakes. The last time you pushed him, your words came tumbling out in frustration, escalating into a full-blown argument. He listened without interruption, his expression unreadable, the stillness of his body unnerving. Once your words ran dry, he finally spoke. “Are you done?” he asked, his voice eerily calm, laced with a sharp edge. “You’ve been crossing the line lately. You know that, don’t you?” The weight of his words sat heavy in your chest long after he left the room. Sleep felt impossible that night as anxiety churned in your mind. You couldn’t ignore the suffocating feeling that something was coming. And you were right. Just as the clock struck midnight, the sound of your door creaking open made you sit up in bed.

There he was, standing in the doorway, his silhouette outlined by the dim hallway light. His eyes, dark and piercing, met yours, and an unsettling smile tugged at the corner of his lips. “Waiting for me, lovely?” he asked softly, stepping into the room with a predator’s grace. Before you could respond, he tossed something onto the bed. The clatter was jarring, and your breath hitched when you realized what it was: your phone, shattered into pieces. “Phone? No more,” he said with an icy smirk. “I wonder what else I should make into pieces. Those stupid plushies you’re so attached to? Or maybe… someone precious?” A soft, humorless laugh escaped him as he leaned closer, his face mere inches from yours. “Remember this, love. No crossing the line. Consider this your warning,” he murmured, his voice dangerously low. “Don’t make me dirty my hands, alright?” His words cut deeper than any shout ever could. Straightening, he glanced at you one last time before leaving the room, closing the door behind him. With Minho, silence was never just silence. It was a threat, a promise, and a lesson. And when he acted, it was always with a precision that left no room for misunderstanding.

Changbin

Explode—that’s the only way to describe him when he’s angry. It’s not subtle or restrained; it’s raw, chaotic, and terrifying. When his temper snaps, it’s like a storm that tears through everything in its path. He throws things against the wall, his voice rising into a roar that makes your chest tighten with fear. The sweet, soft side he usually shows you is gone, replaced by someone you can barely recognize. “You think I’m joking right now?” he shouts, his eyes blazing with fury, so red it’s like all he can see is rage. He plants himself in front of the door, his body a solid barrier ensuring there’s no escape. The once tidy room is unrecognizable—vases lie shattered on the floor, shards glinting in the dim light, papers scattered everywhere. Each crash feels like a knife twisting in your gut, and all you can do is collapse onto the floor, your knees too weak to hold you up. His breathing is heavy, his chest heaving like he’s barely holding back from completely losing control. “Ignore me like that again,” he growls, his voice low and dripping with menace, “answer me without thinking, and next time, I’ll throw you against the wall just like I did those vases.”

The venom in his words makes your heart race, and for a split second, you can’t tell if it’s an empty threat or a promise. Either way, the weight of his fury presses down on you, leaving you frozen in place. And then, just as suddenly as it started, the storm begins to subside. He straightens, his eyes still fixed on you, but the blazing anger in them softens into something almost tender. He takes a step forward, then another, crouching down to meet you on the floor. “Are you alright?” he asks, his voice quieter now, almost hesitant, as if trying to erase the memory of the chaos he just unleashed. You flinch as he reaches for you, but he doesn’t stop. His hands find your face, cupping it gently, his thumbs brushing away the tears that have spilled down your cheeks. “I’m sorry, love. You need to understand how much I love you,” he whispers, his tone pleading. It’s disorienting, the way he shifts from monster to lover, his gentleness so at odds with the destruction around you. “So don’t make me lose my temper again, got it?” he murmurs, his breath warm against your skin. The warning is clear, and you can only nod.

Hyunjin

Hyunjin has a way of making you doubt yourself, twisting your thoughts until you’re unsure of what’s real. He doesn’t raise his voice or resort to anger—instead, he makes you feel like you’re the one who’s wrong, like you’re the villain and he’s the victim. His charm is intoxicating, but beneath it lies something dangerous, something that leaves you questioning everything about yourself and your relationship. When you upset him, he doesn’t comfort you or address it directly. Instead, he turns it into his own game, one where the rules are stacked entirely in his favor. He knows exactly how to manipulate the situation, how to make you feel like the guilt is entirely yours. His voice is soft, trembling just enough to tug at your heartstrings as he asks, “Do you even love me?” Somehow, he manages to conjure tears—perfect, convincing tears that make your chest tighten with guilt. You know he’s playing a part, that the sadness in his eyes is an act, yet it still works. His vulnerability feels so real, so raw, that you can’t help but question if maybe you truly are the problem. He always knows what to say to make you doubt your actions, and soon enough, you’re scrambling to fix something you aren’t even sure you broke. He doesn’t stop there.

His words cut deeper than any raised voice or angry outburst ever could. “I feel like I’m nothing to you,” he murmurs, his gaze dropping as though he can’t bear to look at you. “Do you even care? Am I just wasting my time here?” The weight of his accusations settles heavily on your shoulders, making you feel like the worst person in the world. And that’s exactly what he wants. For Hyunjin, this isn’t just a moment of hurt—it’s a game, a calculated strategy to make you prove yourself over and over again. You find yourself apologizing, explaining, and convincing him of your love, even when you don’t fully understand what you’re apologizing for. By the time he leans in, brushing a tear from your cheek, you’re already falling into his trap. “Tell me,” he whispers, his voice barely audible but laced with desperation. “Tell me how much you love me. Please… I can’t live without you.” His words are a plea, but they carry a weight that crushes you. It’s not just about proving your love—it’s about erasing the guilt he’s so carefully placed on you. And when you finally stammer out your assurances, he smiles faintly, knowing he’s won. For Hyunjin, victory isn’t loud or violent. It’s quiet, devastating, and entirely unforgettable.

[theshiftingwitch]

"We're limited beings"

Disclaimer: this post is about the law of assumption. If you do not practice / believe in the law, then this post is not for you.

If you know anything about the law of assumption, then you should know by now that its first and only rule is that your thoughts create your reality. You hear that sentence all the time, and most of you understand it to a certain point.

So allow me to be as clear as I possibly can:

• If you believe that there's a certain higher power out there holding your manifestations from you because you don't deserve it or it's not the right time or it's not meant for you... That is a limiting belief.

• If you believe that astrology is anything other than a map you chose for yourself before you came into this reality, and it is dictating how your life will go and if you veer off the path or do anything outside of your chart limitations then the energies of the planets will punish you, that is a limiting belief.

• If you believe that the rules of this reality are the only ones that exist and that they are the reason you are not getting your manifestations, or that you are a limited being in any way, that is a limiting belief.

• If you believe that anything or anyone outside of yourself is the operant power in your own reality, rendering yourself a victim in a reality you chose, that is a limiting belief.

• If you believe that your guardian angels, guardian demons, spirit guides, or anything of the sort are withholding what you want from you because they know better and they are protecting you, that is a limiting belief.

• If you believe that the universe is not giving you what you want despite how many times you have affirmed or visualized or scripted, that is a limiting belief.

I do not claim to know everything about the universe because like most of you I am also here to learn, to grow, and to love. But this is coming from a practicing witch, astrologer, and shifter. Hear me when I say, the only limits that exist in this reality are the limits you put on yourself.

At the end of the day, the only law that matters is the law of oneness. You can practice the law of assumption, you can practice the law of attraction, you can practice the law of detachment... the only thing that matters is truly understanding that you are one with everything. You are one with the universe, you are one with spirit, you are one with God, you are one with your guardian angels and demons and spirit guides... you are the beginning and you are the end.

If you read this post, and you got this terrible lump in your throat or this aching feeling in your chest or this train of thoughts in your mind telling you that this is wrong and this is blasphemy and this is pure bullshit, you have a lot of limiting beliefs to work through. Do your Shadow work. Stop procrastinating, stop waiting for someone to come and hand you your manifestations, stop waiting for someone to come and save you. The only one who's going to save you is yourself because you are the only ONE.

Everything always works out in your favor because you said so.

PS: I'm sorry if this post or others before it sound like I am in a shitty mood or I'm being a bitch, Mars is in retrograde and I'm feeling confrontational and I never back out of a fight. (See what I did there? 😉 ) However I truly apologize if I did come off as anything other than kind and understanding throughout my previous posts including this one. I'm truly, sincerely only trying to help but some people keep pushing my buttons and I hate to see new shifters and new manifesters being exposed to wrong information and losing hope and motivation instead of learning their true power. The retrograde ends in February and I can't promise that I won't be confrontational ever again, I do have a Mars in Aries after all and that bitch is my chart ruler, (or pluto if you're a modern astrologer) but I do promise to take a deep breath before I engage in any sort of conversation whether here or on tiktok. I would hate to give you the assumption that I'm not here for you, or that you can't ask me anything, but truly understand that as long as you are being respectful I will answer whatever question you have and I will debate whatever matter you have on your mind. Thank you for being here, I love you guys so much and I hope you get everything you've ever wanted and more.

[venuslarkspur]

Dearest (ex) Stepson Of Mine

(Prologue)

Pairing(s): Damian Wayne x Fem!StarSapphire!Reader (platonic), past Talia Al Ghul x Fem!StarSapphire!Reader (romantic), mentions to past Bruce Wayne x Fem!StarSapphire!Reader. (And in the future 🫶)

IDEA FROM THIS IMAGINE (pls read or this may be difficult to understand on its own)

Summary: After leaving your abusive husband you find a life of crime where you only looked out for yourself and other victims, your methods were harsh and you received a violet ring, eventually entered a relationship with another strong woman, Talia Al Ghul, you grow particularly close to her son, Damian. Soon after he leaves you leave; Deciding maybe what you thought was right was actually wrong, you begin a life of heroism, buts there’s a problem; no one trusts you after your previous crimes, not even your own former step son.

Note: Reader is bi/pan and is probably on multiple justice league radars. Reader has had children in the past but suffered a miscarriage at the hands of her husband. I’m also really partial to early comic book Talia so I’ve chosen to depict her differently than most writers. Whilst the relationship is much healthier than theirs, reader is still sort of like the Harley to Talia’s joker. (They are doomed from the start) THIS ISN’T PROOFREAD!

Warning: Overbearing relationship, abuse (not from Talia), implications of miscarriage, usual dc crime.

——————***——————

- After abandoning your abusive husband, you eventually received a violet looking ring. Your love for your deceased babies (caused via your husband) had made you worthy of such a ring. It was all his fault, he’s the reason you lost your children. You took up a life of crime, though was it really crime? Ridding the world of the dead beat fathers and rapist husbands? Yes your methods were extreme but you got the job done. And it didn’t hurt you got noticed by a gorgeous woman, you killed one of her top assassins; but instead of punishing you, she made you her partner.

- Her name was Talia Al Ghul, and you swore she looked like your former flames ex girlfriend but no mind. Nowadays you’re all business, but that didn’t stop you from entering a relationship with her, a relationship that you didn’t know was doomed from the start. You knew that sometimes she and her family had more than questionable methods, but so? You weren’t the one doing it, you were just supporting your partner. But the whole league of assassins respected you, Ra’s and Talia demanded their respect for you.

- Your relationship with Talia was interesting, you conformed to her family’s style, her way of thinking and even

- Ra’s liked you, you were a powerful member of the Star Sapphire corps after all. But his feelings didn’t compare to that of Talia’s son, Damian. He was cold to you at first but you wouldn’t give up, you would always invite him in to have breakfast with you and Talia, read to him at night, talked to him about the outside world, brought him sweets back from your endeavours (sneakily of course), hell sometimes you even invited him to let him sleep in the same bed as you and Talia when he had a bad dream; and whilst Talia was sort of neutral at first, your nature rubbed off on her and she started to look forward to Damian coming to cuddle you both at night.

- He even started calling you “ummi” which meant mother, not the actual word “mother” nope that was Talia, you were his ummi. So it broke your heart when left to go train with his father, who you still didn’t know; but fuck that guy, how could he reject Talia’s offer of joining her? Whatever, you had taken his place now, which he so misguidedly rejected to begin with. For those couple of months you never left Talia’s side, you even got involved in not so okay plots that you would usually never partake in. But you had to, for the sake of your beloved. You never noticed that Talia was growing more overbearing of you, but at the same time acted like she couldn’t care less what happened to you.

- She always found a way to make it up to you, told you she loved you, and you loved her, she saved you. You swam in her ocean, and lived in her world and breathed her air. Yes it was mildly concerning, but at least she never struck you; like your ex husband. But things progressed for the worse, there was a nefarious plot suggested by Ra’s and Talia that needed your ring’s power, but their idea was corrupt and insane. That was the moment you knew what you needed to do. So you left the next day, and never looked back; sure you’ve killed before and would again, sure you’ve broken your old friends, Pamela and Harley out of Arkham more times than you can count, but you won’t do this. Even if your heart did beat for her, your love for sanity crowded your love for her.

——————***——————

[seaweedstarshine]

RIP Krakoa 🌹 I can’t lie I’ve been kinda behind since midway through Fall of X I’m gonna catch up before my first SDCC this summer but I hear Vulcan didn’t see much action anyway. Anyway my hand slipped and I found myself looking into the eyes of my canonically psychotic son the best Summers brother who’s never done anything wrong in his entire life, (he’s done lotsa wrong things but I love him more for it)

[erstwhile-elster]

Oof

[fairsweetlonging]

truth serum / system reveal au where shen qingqiu gets hit with an uncloaking spell that reveals the system in the reflection of his eyes every time it pops up.

during one of his missions, in the treasure hoard of some dragon-like creature, he finds a golden, oval shaped hand mirror, its gaudy style more victorian based than anything (airplane you hack!), that doesn't seem to do anything when he looks into it. but when he does, it reveals the system's screen in his eyes.

he doesn't notice this, of course, because he can't see it, and the system, surprisingly, stays quiet.

the peak lords think he's cursed.

maybe mu qingfang is the first to notice, during the mandatory post mission check-up, when shen qingqiu is scrolling through his most recently accumulated points and mu qingfang can see the strange vividly-blue lines reflected in his pupils. it's gone when shen qingqiu blinks, like it was nothing but a trick of the light.

it comes out when yue qingyuan is visiting and, just as he's done laying out the plans for a new mission, shen qingqiu's eyes glaze over and a bright blue box takes over the whole of his iris. shen qingqiu goes quiet; the thing in his eyes moves, shifts, pulses for a second, like static worms crawling all over his pupils. then he blinks, and it's gone, and shen qingqiu accepts the mission that yue qingyuan was almost sure he would decline.

maybe there is an intervention, when the peak lords corner shen qingqiu at qian cao peak and try to figure out what's wrong, subjecting him to all kinds of treatments and curse-finding spells that turn up empty, they can't find anything.

of course, the silencing threat is still very much up and running. at first shen qingqiu was kind of confused by the whole ordeal, but when the peak lords start describing a "strange blue box", he realizes, with sickening suddenty, that they're describing the system. and he can't say anything.

this only makes everything worse, because their fellow peak lord now keeps evading every question and acts like he doesn't understand. liu qingge points right at his face and asks, "that blue box, what is it?" and shen qingqiu laughs nervously and starts talking about how bright the weather is and surely it's the sky and nothing to worry about!

even worse, during the intervention the system thought it was a good idea to start talking to him, so now even the peak lords who hadn't seen it and who might have been persuaded by light tricks and reflections, get a first row view that no, that definitely isn't a trick of the light.

they try to do the whole thing of "are you in danger, blink twice" but shen qingqiu can't even do that because it's still a direct admittance!

maybe eventually he starts saying vague confirmations that don't actually confirm anything, like "this master hears what you're saying", or maybe he goes with a classic "this master can neither confirm nor deny that." but the system starts warning him for that too and eventually he stops saying anything, which worries the others more.

luckily mu qingfang catches on that every time they ask a direct question about the box or shen qingqiu says anything vaguely confirming, it appears. it doesn't appear when they ask about curses or demons, so it must not see that as a threat.

for a little extra angst: maybe the peak lords keep pressuring him for answers, and at some point shen qingqiu gets fed up and snaps out something like, "why don't you understand that i'm not allowed to answer that!" the system counts this as a direct admittance, threatening it's existence. so it punishes. shen qingqiu has a qi deviation so bad it lasts two weeks and takes two people every day to cleanse his meridians. the system doesn't appear in that time. it doesn't appear for a long while after that, either. the peak lords stop asking, mainly because shen qingqiu will instantly leave the room if they do. they don't stop searching for a cure, though.

shang qinghua returns from a business trip and catches on the second someone mentions a blue box and forced silencing.

[nochepsicodelica]

NSFW

Toji calls you pup or puppy sometimes and you've always thought that maybe it had something to do with you being so playful and energetic at times, but those were always just your assumptions. Not a single one of those assumptions was confirmed by Toji, so you took it upon yourself to ask for the truth...

"Toji?" You call, looking up at him from where you sit on his lap.

"Hm?" He hums in response, looking away from the commercial on the TV and down at you.

"Why do you call me pup? Don't get me wrong, it's cute." You smile, feeling the warmth of the seemingly endearing name in your stomach. "But, I wanna know why."

"Mm... do you really wanna know?" You nod, bubbly giggles erupting from your chest in anticipation. You're so excited for this reveal. It's been a mystery for months. "Well, it's because you let out these high pitched, little whimpers, that sound like a puppy when I touch you, sometimes."

Glass shattered. Illusion crumbled.

Your face immediately heats up. "No... No! Really?!" You groan, shifting to lay back in his arms while covering your face in embarrassment.

"Don't be embarrassed, baby. It's cute. You're a sensitive little thing." His hand comes forward to rub your tummy over your shirt.

You huff, an audible hum of annoyance sounding out. "Well, I'm never gonna do it again. I'm just gonna stop. I'm done. Never again."

"You wanna test that out?" He asks, mischievous eyes watching your pouty expression. You nod, accepting the challenge. "Sit on my lap properly, like you were before." You shift back and sit up straight against his chest. He pulls your hands away from your lap. "Keep these here, and don't move them. Understand?" he asks, placing your hands on his thighs. You nod, again, and grip onto them.

His left hand snakes up your shirt, his fingertips teasing the skin of your stomach until goosebumps rise. It goes further up once the goosebumps have spread all over, sliding beneath the cup of your bra to rub your already pebbled nipple. So far you've only let out a couple sighs, so he adds in his other hand. It slips into the front of your shorts and beneath your panties, until his fingers make contact with your slicked up slit.

"Already so wet for me, mama. What happened?"

"It's always like this for you," you say, quietly, suppressing the urge to whimper as the pads of his middle and ring fingers rub your clit in such a tediously, slow manner. Your hands part from his thighs and attempt to grab onto his forearms, causing him to immediately pause the movement of the hand that plays with your nipples as well as the one in your pants.

"Hey." His tone is questioning of your actions, but there's the touch of a smirk on his face, like he knew you'd need more than gripping his thighs to keep you from folding so quickly.

"S-Sorry. I'm sorry."

He presses a chaste kiss to your temple. "Let's try that again."

Soon enough, those little breaths you released through your nose, became small, quiet whimpers, that you didn't think Toji would hear. He had to correct you so many times about the way you were sliding down his front. Eventually he decided to lift your bra entirely and just wrap his arm around your chest to hold you steady because of how much you were squirming.

"Toji, I'm gonna..." A louder whimper comes out, effectively bringing a victorious smirk onto Toji's face. He heard those quieter ones, but he didn't count them for your sake. You're his baby, after all.

He speeds up the movement of his fingers, his rough pads adding delicious friction to your sensitive clit. You tense in his hold when your orgasm hits, plenty of moans and those pet name earning whimpers, flooding out.

"There you go, puppy," he purrs, into your neck, slowing his strokes to not overstimulate you so fast. You grab onto the arm that's secured at your chest, your nails digging into his skin through the pleasure. He doesn't stop because you've already proven his point and he sees no reason to punish you anymore.

A few seconds pass and those whimpers return, accompanied by your thighs shutting around his hand. You curl up a little, holding on tight to his arm.

"Had enough?" He asks, stilling his hand between your legs.

"Mhm, no more," you mumble, sounding defeated after thinking back to the sounds you made and how this backfired entirely.

He pulls his hands out from your clothes and wraps his arms around you. "So pup and puppy are fair game?"

You sigh, and reluctantly nod.

[unluckiestmember]

Arcane x Ransom! Reader

Summary: How would the Arcane characters react if the reader was held for ransom?

Characters: Jinx/Powder, Violet "Vi", Caitlyn Kiramman, Viktor, Jayce Talis, Sevika, Silco and Licker (mention).

Warning: Slight cursing and suggestive themes/implied sexual themes.

A/N: I literally got the idea for this request from Helluva Boss, particular episode 6 of season 2. I hope you all enjoy this though, I know I did!

Powder/Jinx

“You have who?! Where are they?!… You want me to pay you for them? Oh I’ll pay you alright!”

Jinx doesn’t take the idea of you getting hurt lightly. She already is super overprotective of her little trinket, so when she heard that you were being held for a price, she wasted no time grabbing Pow-Pow, Zapper and a bunch of chompers to aid her in her “heroic rescue” for her princess/prince. As soon as she is where you are held, you don’t have to see her to know she’s there for you. Don’t expect any talking, just laughter and hollers followed by gunfire, screams for mercy and explosions.

Before you know it, the Loose Cannon is standing in front of you, pulling you into the tightest hug ever and dressing your face with kisses. She will ask you countless questions while freaking out, beating herself up over you being in such a position. But when she feels you touch her and assure her you’re okay, she’s on cloud nine. As soon as she laces the area with bombs to blow it to kingdom come, she’s back at her hideout, being super affectionate and touchy the entire night. Don’t expect anyone to be touching you for months unless they want their head blown off.

Violet “Vi”

“… What?… You… You just pissed off the wrong woman.”

First word that you were kidnapped, Vi wasted no time hunting your captors down and beating them to a bloody pulp. The woman is like a bull seeing red knowing you were somewhere cold and scared away from home and her arms. So until you were back to her, anyone was able to get a personal greeting from the pink haired fighter. Vi is pretty merciful, but in situations like this, she isn’t afraid to push the envelope by giving life threatening injuries to the bastards that hurt you.

When she found you, she didn’t bother asking any questions or giving any money to your kidnappers, unless they counted a mouthful of fists and kicks as payment enough. When she’s done with her punishment, she’ll immediately scoop you into her arms and take the both of you back home, where she checks you for injuries and asks if you are okay. Please comfort her. She may act all tough and cool, but the situation scared her due to thinking she lost you just like everyone else. As soon as she knows you are alright, she’ll promise no one will ever do that to you again.

Caitlyn Kiramman

“You kidnapped Y/N? Why would- Who do you think you are? You better let them go right now!”

Caitlyn was used to people being kidnapped on the job, having to save them or negotiate with criminals for their safety. But she would have never imagined such a thing happening to you of all people. When she was told you were being held for ransom, she understandably panicked before taking deep breaths and thinking of how to get you back to her. The enforcer can easily scrounge up the money for you to be freed, because you were more important than any coin that reaches her pockets.

So when she arranges a meeting with your kidnappers and finds you so scared, she finds it hard to stop herself from grabbing you and making a run for it. If the kidnappers pull a fast one on her though, all bets are off and bullets are flying. When she has you back, she will watch you like a hawk and be on the defensive for a while. But if you assure her enough that you are okay, she will lighten up. On the bright side, after the incident she’s more romantic and spends more time with you in and out of work.

Viktor

“Look, I’m sure we can talk about this. I’ll get you the money, just. Please don’t hurt them…”

Viktor beat himself up when he heard you were taken away from him for monetary purposes. He just doesn’t understand how he would let this happen- How he would let someone easily take you under his nose and put you in harm’s way?! He could’ve waddled in his sorrows, but he couldn’t. He had to save you and he had to act fast! It would hurt him, but he would ask for assistance from Jayce and the council if he can. And if they can’t help him? Well. Maybe it was time to break out those so-called dangerous machines Heimerdinger warned him against using.

When he finds you, he’s wasting no time trying to negotiate a way around matters so you could be freed. And if those negotiations don’t go according to plan, then he’ll use his machinery and his brain to outsmart the criminals into freeing you. When you are back together, he’ll just. Hold you. Like you are a precious gemstone. He’ll promise you this will never happen again. No one will ever lay their hands on you again…

Jayce Talis

“Is this supposed to scare me? If anything, you should be the one scared- Do you know who I am?!”

Jayce does not take threats lightly, especially when it comes to his family, friends and his loved ones. As soon as he was told you were held for Ransom, he let his anger and determination to get you back fuel him to do anything to send a message and bring you back to safety. You will immediately know your boyfriend got the message because in a matter of hours, enforcers are barging into the area you were held like they were entering a war, shooting, punching and slamming anyone who got in their way from their goal; You.

And Jayce is in the middle of it all, swinging his hammer without remorse before running to your rescue as your knight in shining armor. As soon as you grab his hand, he’s walking you back to his place casually through the enforcers destroying everything in their sights and leaving a message for the assholes that took you; Never. Ever. Touch the councilman’s lover. Don’t expect to go anywhere without guards following you if Jayce isn’t, whether you want to or not. Jayce just can’t take the chance for you to be taken again. Is it extreme? Yes. But it was worth it.

Sevika

“Ransom? Seriously? Please, that’s nothing. And I’m about to show you why.”

When it comes to ransom, Sevika wasn’t new to having her friends or past lovers be kidnapped for money. So when she heard you were being held hostage, she casually grabbed her poncho, fixed her arm for a brawl and headed outside to round her co-workers up. When she found you and the ones that took you, she wasted no time kicking in the doors and sicking her co-workers on everyone before she made her way towards you after knocking some skulls in. She’ll ask if you are okay and especially check you for any injuries before grabbing you and joking how you found yourself in this predicament.

The fight rages on as soon as she places you outside for safety. Saving you wasn’t enough. No, she needed everyone to know that when someone messes with you, they have to deal with her and the rest of Zaun. When everything is over and done, Sevika will take you both back home and treat any injuries you want before kissing your cheek and simply talking as if you weren’t kidnapped to begin with. If you think she doesn’t care, then hoo boy. The way she’ll treat you that night in bed will make you think otherwise.

Silco

“Hmm… If I were you, I’d beg for mercy when I get there…”

Silco is never one to be threatened because he’s always the one making the threats. Hearing about you being held for Ransom made him immediately go on the move to round up Sevika to follow him in bringing you back to him. If he gets there and doesn’t find you anywhere, he will deliver a silent signal to bring the house down. But if you are present, then he won’t need violence to be delivered by his Right Hand. He’ll just need to put the fear of gods into your kidnapper.

He’ll paint them a picture of how he’ll find their families and let them listen to the melody of their bones breaking. How he’ll have Licker carve paintings into their bodies and let them choke on their own blood as they beg for mercy. What do they think of that? They wouldn’t like that at all. As a matter of fact, they would hate it so much that they would release you and fade from existence right there. As soon as you are back to Silco, he’s going to take you back home as if this was only a minor inconvenience. But as soon as you two are behind closed doors, he can’t help from keeping his hands to himself and make promises against your skin.

If you have any requests for Arcane, X-Men '97 or Blue Eye Samurai, send them my way!

Likes and retweets are always appreciated! I love you all, stay safe, stay hydrated and have a good day!

[prncssguya]

on hwang in-ho/front man, seong gi-hun and their dynamic.

first, idk why people are getting so upset at other people calling gi-hun dumb, we were told that in the first season. lol being bright is not his strongest trait but he has a good heart and we love that about him. however, he is still an idealistic gullible idiot with a gambling problem. except this time his gambling addiction is backed by a sense of justice and righteousness and he no longer gambles with money, he’s gambling with people’s lives. front man asked a good question at the end of the season, “did you have fun playing the hero?” can we even call gi-hun the hero of the story anymore? he gambled with people’s lives and front man showed him the consequences of his moral heroics.

front man only agreed to help gi-hun with his revolution when he mentioned about "small sacrifices for the greater good". i think he reveled in the fact that the “good guy” was willing to allow a few innocent people to die for the greater good to stop the games, which is exactly what the entire VIP theory is to rid the world of 'trash' to improve the world. notice how gi-hun's moral code and belief also changed, from being "nobody should die" into "yeah small sacrifice is okay as long it's for the greater good" at this point, he just proved that front man's belief is actually valid. AND he gets more of his own people killed in the pointless battle with the soldiers that they had no chance of winning. now he gets to feel responsible for all those deaths and the death of his friend and for whatever additional torture they cook up in the next games (as punishment for the escape attempt).

now on hwang in-ho, i believe he was once a good man and the story he told gi-hun was the truth. but in the end he lost a kidney, lost a wife, a baby, lost his money, got fucked over by the wrong people and got into serious debt and had to play this game to help his wife and probably it was too late to save her. he might have played the games like gi-hun but saw how ruthless and greedy people are and resolved that they don't deserve help

i don’t think in-ho wants/will kill gi-hun, but he wants him to understand things from his perspective and show him that his compassion for the people in the games is foolish. you can tell the frontmen (the old man and in-ho) are extremely fond of gi hun. not only did he protect their original front man when nobody else did, he then won the games and thus their respect as he is now as rich as them. he's no longer "trash", he’s an elite like them. i think they both actually kept tabs on him after he won (i wonder if they do that for all winners? inserting them with gps chips?) because they knew he had not used his reward money and in-ho wanted gi-hun to get on the plane and be happy with his daughter

there’s one interesting aspect of the games that makes front man such a complex character. the fact that they’re operating a organ transplant trafficking network. in a way, he’s creating some good to come from a really fucked up situation. but is it really for the good of others who desperately need it, people like his wife, like his brother? or is it just a money making scheme?

either way, i don’t think there is going to be a redemption arc for in-ho, he’s too far gone. we may get to see more of his human side if he manages to see jun-ho again. the only time we’ve seen genuine emotions from him was when he shot his brother like he seemed distraught

the real cliffhanger for me, is will gi-hun stay true to his belief that people can be good, or will he be forever changed into a villain and become the next front man…? after the events of this season i don’t see how his will doesn’t shatter. he’s witnessed how humanity consistently chose money over survival, he’s lost two close friends, his mother, abandoned his daughter. he has gained nothing from wanting to stop the games and this clearly feels like an origin story for the next front man. it’s clear the front man has won this round and i think squid game will either die with 001 or continue with gi-hun as game master

another thing i find funny that i don’t see many mention is how gi-hun is like the luckiest guy in the fucking world. but i don’t think him being alive this long is plot armor, it makes sense. the games exist for the entertainment of rich sadists who have so much money they don't know what to do with it (remember what old 001 said in s1 about life being no fun for both people with no money and people with too much money). and i’d imagine killing hundreds of poor debt-ridden fools year after year gets boring. especially when said fools are desperate enough to gamble with their lives because they think they can beat the system by playing better than everyone else and surviving and getting the money.

gihun is different because he got the money, got out, and still came back. not because he's unfeeling or because he wants more money, but because he's still convinced he can beat the system.

if you're a rich bored gazillionaire, would you rather watch some randos die or would you rather watch this exceptional idiot fail again and again until he learns that his ideals are meaningless and people are inherently greedy and equality is a myth and people at the bottom of the barrel don't get to question the system?

if you're an asshole gazillionaire, you don't want someone to challenge you and just get away with it. you want to hand them 45.6 billion won and make them go away quietly, traumatized, after breaking them psychologically by making them do horrible things until they understand they're just powerless "horses". if they insist on challenging you and your system and your beliefs (money = boundless power), you teach them a lesson and show them their place in the most manipulative and cruel way possible. if gihun dies right away, that's boring. so he can't die, he needs to suffer. he needs to concede defeat.

also, i find it funny how people are comparing hwang inho and gihun dynamic to hannibal and will graham. makes sense, their whole cat and mouse game, front man hiding his true nature from gi-hun the same way hannibal does, trying to corrupt the righteous protagonist, sowing chaos, testing him and observing his behavior like a lab rat, the crazy tension and staring contests, the gaslighting and manipulation. and with the fact that they think lee byung-hun looks like mads mikkelsen. i never put the two of them together but now i can’t unsee it lol

[jjunberry]

now playing 📽️ “punishment of a slut”

🎞️ you get what’s coming to you after you hatch a plan to make sunghoon jealous.

staring 🎬 park sunghoon x fem!reader, ft jay

⭐️ genre smut, slightly fwb

warnings 🎥 mean dom hoon, degradation, rope play, unprotected sex, creampie, kind of facials, name calling (he calls reader, slut and bitch a lot) marking, rough sex etc read at your own risk

wc .ᐟ 1.2k mlist .ᐟ

you were in for it, his piercing gaze could be felt on you with each move you made. the way your hips swayed against jay’s crotch. jay’s hands were tight against your hips, guiding your movements. this was wrong you knew it was, but sunghoon never made anything official with you, you just wanted to teach the boy a lesson. show him what he was missing, and show him you did. all night you clung to jay, dancing and drinking with him going out of your way to ignore sunghoon.

sunghoon finally had enough, he threw his head back finishing his drink in one gulp. his thick brows furrowed together as he stomped his way across the dance floor. your movements are halted as sunghoon’s hands grip your hair in a ponytail. he pulled you from jay’s grasp, making you look up at him. he brought his other hand up and patted your cheek, prompting you to open your mouth. looking at up him with an open mouth had his dick twitching in his pants. sunghoon was quick to spit a fat glob of spit in your mouth. you swallowed his saliva eagerly.

he leaned down to your ear, “apologize to jay for being a slut because we are leaving,” he let your hair go and shoved you towards jay. “i-i’m sorry for being a slut jay,” you said. jay smirked at sunghoon who was fuming behind you. “you’re in trouble,” he laughed before backing away into the crowd. sunghoon’s hand came down on your shoulder before he guided you out of the club and to his awaiting car.

sunghoon opened your door, allowing you to get inside before slamming the door closed. the loud noise had you jump in your seat. he rounded the car and got inside, slamming his door as well. his clenched jaw and furrowed eyebrows had you clenching around nothing. sunghoon caught site of you squirming in your seat, desperately searching for friction. he was quick to land a smack against your thigh, leaving a red mark in its wake. “you’re such a fucking slut,” he grunted before increasing his speed while driving. he couldn’t wait to get you home. with each minute spent in the car the more your panties got wet.

the car came to a stop outside of sunghoon’s apartment. he turned the car off and quickly got out. opening your door he gripped your wrist pulling you along with him. you stumbled trying to keep up with his long strides. “sunghoon slow down,” he whipped his head towards you “you don’t get to talk,” he snapped. your mouth instantly shut at his words. sunghoon unlocked his apartment pulling you inside with him.

once inside he slammed the door closed, turning his icy gaze towards you. “strip, i want to see every inch of you he’s touched.” you quickly shimmed out of your dress, letting the thin material pool around your ankles. you stood there left in nothing but a pair of baby blue panties with a dark patch, letting sunghoon know just how much this turns you on.

“go upstairs, i want you face down do you understand?” you nodded. sunghoon gripped your throat, “i said do you understand?,” nodding again “yes,” you answered. sunghoon let you go. “good now go,” you were quick to run upstairs. once in his bedroom you positioned yourself as he said. your ass was up in the air and your head resting on a pillow.

sunghoon made his way upstairs a few minutes later. peaking behind you he stood there, with a glass of whiskey in one hand with the other he removed his belt. a small gasp left your lips, “eyes forward bitch,” you were quick to look away from him. he finished his drink before approaching you, using his belt he tied your wrists together behind your back. the cool leather felt nice against your hot skin.

he gripped your wrists and shoved you face down into the pillow, his free hand pulling your panties down. “oh fuck,” he muttered at the sight of your soaked pussy. “look at you, soaked completely..is this for me or for jay?” he smacked your ass. “i-it’s for you hoon its always for you,” he smirked at your desperation. “i know it is, jay’s not man enough to handle a bitch like you,” with that he landed another smack on your ass.

sunghoon freed himself from his pants, leaving him in his boxers wirh a prominent tent formed. “turn around, on your knees,” he ordered you. you were quick to wiggle around and set up on your knees, arms still tightly secured behind your back. sunghoon looked down at you, “open your mouth slut,” you opened your mouth instantly. he pushed his boxers down, freeing his large cock. precum dripped from the tip, you eagerly leaned towards his length.

he smacked his tip against your tongue a few times before shoving his cock in your mouth. you gagged when the tip hit the back of your throat. choking on him for a few minutes before you gained composure and started breathing through your nose. his right hand gripped your hair into a ponytail and used it as leverage to thrust deeper into your throat.

sunghoon threw his head back groaning deeply, “ah fuck,” his thrusting became quicker before he stilled shooting his thick load down your throat. he pulled out watching what cum you didn’t swallow spill from your lips. his dick twitched at the site of your mascara and eyeliner smeared, cum dripping from your chin. sunghoon lifted you from your position and tossed you flat onto the bed. you squirmed at the discomfort of your arms behind your back. sunghoon eyed you, finally deciding to free your arms.

you had no time to soothe the ache in your arms because sunghoon was on top of you in an instant. he pushed your legs into your chest, pushing his hard cock into your aching pussy. “oh fuck hoon,” you moaned when he bottomed out. you wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him closer. sunghoon leaned back wrapping his hand around your neck. “look at you so desperate for me, want me to fuck you like the bitch you are?,” you nod desperately. “yeah?,” he asked again snapping his hips against yours. “f-fuck yes, fuck me like the bitch i am,” you begged. sunghoon smirked before gripping your hips and thrusting into you roughly. your nails raked down his back, and with once final harsh thrust he released his load into your fucked out pussy. he thrust into you one more time causing the knot in your stomach to snap. he pulled out and your body was left shaking, as his cum dripped from your used pussy.

sunghoon backed away from you admiring the finger shaped bruises on your hips. the feeling of jay’s hands long forgotten as the sting of sunghoon’s grip still radiated through your body. sunghoon disappeared into the bathroom, you heard the shower running. you laid there fucked out, and sticky with sunghoon’s cum. you knew you weren’t getting aftercare, this was your punishment for being a slut. a small smile took over your face, already thinking of ways to piss him off again.

credits 📹 this one is for kipo (who held me at gunpoint) i hope you enjoyed this one pookie ♡!!

special thanks to 📸 @jjunieworld @304files @ghstzzn @miaroseindreamland @babymochibeargyu @seuliecore

© jjunberry - all rights reserved. please do not repost on any social media sites, translate, or modify any of my works.

love , echo ☁️⋅♡𓂃 ࣪

[kingkat12]

you're my drug (eric draven x reader)

WARNINGS: 18+, piv sex, oral sex (female receiving), fingering, semi-public sex, sexual imagery, foul language, mentions of drugs/tobacco

summary: after you got caught making out with Eric at rehab, everything suddenly spirals into something much deeper

word count: 5,022 PART 1, PART 2, PART 3

a/n: this is part two of draw you! enjoy!!<3

As I stood in the courtyard, kicking some rocks along during my lap around the premises, I couldn't help but wonder when I would see Eric again. It had been a week since we were caught making out in his room, and I had just gotten out of a two-day solitary confinement— it was definitely a harsher punishment than expected. Then again, I should've known; this place was an absolute shithole. 

The worst part of the ordeal was having to write down my feelings and get another check from the warden, along with questions about whether or not I was a nymphomaniac. Excuse me?

Had Eric gotten a harsher repercussion than me? Maybe he had been moved to a different rehabilitation center? I didn't want to think about it. Again, I shouldn't be worrying about a stranger I barely knew. It was a little reckless of me to care for someone who had drawn me naked— now that I wasn't in a state of arousal, it dawned on me how creepy that actually was.

But then again... I had been the one to jump him. That was on me. Had I not offered up, I wouldn't feel so attached to him. 

... Maybe I was a nymphomaniac? Fuck.

So when I eventually lost track of where I had kicked my stone, I started looking for new ones. And it was during my hunt for entertainment that I eventually spotted a familiar tall figure entering the courtyard. 

Eric's cheeks were more hollow than the last time I had seen him, and I couldn't help the guilt that immediately seeped into my system. He seemed much darker than I remembered, the green in his eyes no longer having that playful shimmer I could spot from far away. However, when he spotted me on his way through the courtyard with a guard by his side, something changed in Eric. The flush in his cheeks returned, his eyes widened, and I could see the faint remnants of the smile that had etched itself into my mind for nights on end. But when he met my gaze, he looked away in a flash-- was he afraid we'd be caught staring at each other again?

I couldn't even control the way I immediately jumped into action as the guards left Eric's side, and I made my way to him with a confident stride. "Well, if it isn't Michelangelo?" I said, approaching with a smile. Seeing him in the flesh again made the tips of my fingers tingle, a certain excitement building in my system. "Where have you been? Did they put you in confinement too?"

But the smile I had seen in him earlier wasn't there anymore-- he turned to me, face blank. Eric blinked twice, watching me as though he didn't know why I was talking to him at all, his nose scrunching up. 

My pulse quickened as my anxiety rose; what was happening? 

"We shouldn't be talking," Eric eventually mumbled, looking away. His green eyes darted towards the guards on duty, wary of their movements. It didn't take long before he started walking away from me, which in turn left me stunned. 

I wondered whether I had said something wrong as I watched him join a few guys that were working out, and I had to take a deep breath to ground myself.  Everything about this made me feel like a complete and utter idiot-- I turned away from Eric, rubbing my temples as I made my way back inside. This was giving me a bigger headache than the ones I would get after coming down from a high.

This definitely felt similar to that; the crushing feeling. Having Eric dismiss me like that after what we had done felt more painful than usual, now that I couldn't dull down my feelings with anything. 

I walked back into my room, slamming the door shut behind me. Everything about this made my whole body ache, and I couldn't understand why I even cared to this degree. 

Had I been so delusional as to think Eric felt something for me too?

Later that night, I didn't care to come out for the last meal. Something told me I'd be staring at Eric again and that he'd dismiss me once more, and I didn't know if I could take it. I hadn't missed drugs as much as now-- everything about this situation reminded me of how I ended up here in the first place.

As I lay in my bed, hoping to fall asleep and wake up a new woman, I was dragged out of my sleepy state when I heard a light shuffling sound coming from my door. I sat up, rubbing my eyes before my gaze slowly darted towards the commotion. 

There it was. A note?

I went to pick it up, feeling my heart thump hard in my chest in anticipation. The paper was familiar, like rough velvet to my fingers, and the same size as a page from a notebook. The smile that crept up my lips was impossible to suppress-- I turned the paper to see a new drawing of me, made in the same scratchy style as the previous ones I had seen. 

It was an image of me laying in a bed, my eyes hidden in the crook of my arm, lips parted as though I was drawing in a big breath. The pink jumper I was pictured in was a lot bigger than mine; I suspected it was supposed to be Eric's. From the waist down, I was wearing nothing but a black pair of underwear, my legs dangling halfway off the bed. 

I sucked in a sharp breath, feeling my chest rise as my heart skipped a beat-- it was beautiful. Completely breathtaking. And in the corner to the upper right, there was a scribbled message with boyish writing that was hard to understand;

messy mornings. let's have those someday? xx

My smile only spread, and I let out a shaky breath of relief as I leaned my forehead against my door, pressing the drawing tightly against my chest. The joy that coursed through my veins reminded me of the same euphoric feeling I'd get from doing a certain type of drug-- I wasn't sure whether it was good for me or not to be feeling these things, but I knew I was addicted already. 

Was Eric maybe addicted to me as well? Was the incident in the courtyard just something he did in front of the guards, straying away from trouble?

I couldn't be sure. Nonetheless, I had gotten confirmation that he definitely thought about me too, and that was all I needed.

｡ﾟ•┈୨♡୧┈• ｡ﾟ

I could swear it was the same as getting high-- seeing Eric, I mean. It was especially exhilarating knowing he was right in front of me, but that I couldn't say a word to him. 

We were currently in a typical meeting, a group of people sitting in a circle trying to work through why they had started drinking or using. I hated these gatherings the most; I wasn't the biggest fan of airing out my life to strangers. 

But today was different. Eric had joined my group, even though his meeting usually took place later in the evening. I felt the air seep out of my lungs the second I spotted him in the door, watching him with eyes wider than expensive plates of china as he sat down on the chair opposite me in the circle, locking his gaze on me. 

And there he sat, in a casual manspread as he twiddled his thumbs, waiting his turn. His dark mullet had grown out a little, the hair on his forehead inching closer to his eyes with each week he was here. It was easy to get lost when I stared at him for too long, hypnotized by his tall build and his green, green eyes darting right back at me. The smirk playing across his lips mirrored mine, both of us feeling the tension thicken between us despite knowing our minds should be elsewhere at this moment.

I had gotten so swept up with Eric that I nearly jumped out of my chair when my name was called. My eyes frantically ripped themselves off of him, finding the guidance counselor with a confused look. What question was I supposed to answer? 

The counselor cleared her throat; "How are you planning to change your habits once you get out of rehabilitation?"

Oh. I had no idea. Flustered, I ended up shrugging, avoiding Eric's amused gaze. "I think... I might have to work on my impulses. So I guess I will try to make sure I don't give in to bad habits by..." I realized I was completely lost, and it made my cheeks flush. "By doing, uh... Doing breathing exercises?"

My eyes snapped toward the sound that came from the other end of the room-- I watched as Eric clasped a hand over his mouth, head hanging low to hide his blatant amusement. Was that a snort I heard? I had to actively bite back a smile from forming, my teeth sinking into my bottom lip with a force I had never used before.

The counselor cleared her throat, clearly unhappy with the direction this was heading. "Yes, Eric? Do you have anything to say?"

His green eyes darted up from his lap, and it was obvious that he was biting down on the inside of his cheek. Eric crossed his arms over his chest, nodding to himself as though he was thinking. "Well, if you're asking me the same question, I think I plan to surround myself with people I love. I think that's where it went wrong the last time," 

I held my breath-- I hadn't expected him to say that. And I had most certainly not expected Eric's eyes to find me immediately after, realizing his pupils had widened the second they landed on me. 

I didn't try to suppress my smile this time. I let it happen, watching as Eric smiled right back with a shimmer in his eyes. 

Something told me I was actually going to get something good out of group therapy.

｡ﾟ•┈୨♡୧┈• ｡ﾟ

... It dawned on me a few days later that I didn't have much time left in rehab. It also happened to dawn on me at the exact moment another drawing slipped under my door, right around the time I was ready to go to bed. 

It was probably the fifth one this week, and I had laid them out neatly on my nightstand. Every image was as beautiful as the last one-- two of me in bed, one of me out in the courtyard again, and one of me during a group session falling asleep on Eric's shoulder. It warmed my heart to think that he had thought about that imagery when we had sat opposite each other a few days ago. Actually, everything about this warmed my heart.

However, today's drawing caught me off-guard. Today, it was a nude one-- deja vu. My eyes locked on the image of me in what looked like Eric's room, gripping his hair as his head was dipped between my legs. One hand was clasped over my chest, and the other one was digging its fingers into my thigh, holding me down. Everything about it made my heart stop, letting out a laboured breath at the sight. 

As always, there was a small message in the upper right corner;

in an alternative universe, there wouldn't be guards outside and there would be no stopping us.  can't wait to taste you xx

My hands gripped the paper, almost to the verge of curling it. It felt as though my body was actively on fire, a need ripping its way through my chest. And it was this exact feeling that had me rushing to put the drawing away before bolting out my door, knowing Eric couldn't have gone too far. 

Thankfully, I had been right. I spotted Eric further down the hall, towering over the people passing him. It was impossible not to notice the tattoos poking up from under his pink jumper, and something about it made my heart race even faster-- I so desperately wanted to see everything. Feel him beneath the pads of my fingertips. 

And I burned. Burned, burned, burned up. And I kept on burning as I sped down the hallway, hearing the loud clacking of my shoes echo through the space along with the thumping of my heart. "Eric!"

Hearing his name, Eric turned around, eyes wide in surprise. "Hey, you," he murmured, brows knitting together as though he was about to scold me. "Thought you were sleeping?"

I finally caught up to him, quickly scanning our surroundings, realizing we were alone. 

"... Are you here to return the drawing?" Eric asked, tilting his head to the side as he scanned the look on my face. A nervous smile spread across his lips, and he brought his hand up to scratch the back of his neck as his eyes flickered around the hallway. "Might've been a little much, sure, but you didn't seem to mind it the last time?--"

His words trailed off as the small hand tugging at his jumper caught his attention. Eric's eyes rounded out, immediately understanding what I was getting at. When he leaned down, I let out a shaky breath before I flung my arms around his neck, capturing his lips in a sweet kiss.

I had hoped it would satiate the burn ravaging my body, but it didn't. As Eric's big arms wrapped around me, pulling me flush against him, the fire only spread. My hands barely had time to go up into his hair, tugging softly at his dark locks, before he pulled away with an airy chuckle. "You'll get us in trouble again,"

That's true-- "Fuck," was the only thing I managed to say. 

Humming, Eric glanced down the hall before pulling my hand into his, intertwining our fingers as he led me away. I was glad it was almost time for bed, seeing as there were barely any people out in the hallway and the guards were relaxing outside on their cigarette break. A familiar dulling of my brain seeped into my system as I remembered the smell of their cigarettes gliding into my room from outside-- I missed nicotine. But Eric was better than any cigarettes. Better than anything I had ever taken before. No high could match the one I would get from locking eyes with him, getting a drawing under my door, or the feeling currently coursing through my veins as he led me into a desolate stairwell. "This will do for now," he muttered, giving my hand a gentle squeeze before letting go. "I'll make sure to bring you somewhere nice when we're both out of here."

As my back hit the wall, I couldn't suppress my growing smirk as Eric neared me. The last time we had stood like this, had been right before he left my room after we made out. Seeing how tall he was, casting a shadow as he towered over me, I let out a sigh of joy; I had missed this. I had missed him. There was nothing that could make me happier than being alone with him. "I'm getting out of here soon, actually,"

Eric hummed as he placed his hand against the wall next to my head, his green eyes locking with mine. I wasn't too afraid to show my burning state-- he watched my lips part as I stared up at him, and I watched his jaw clench as he tried to digest the look in my eyes.

Sex. I was giving him those bedroom eyes that always worked on every guy I had ever been with. My eyes got all glassy, my thick lashes hanging low. I was quite sure I would let him fuck me right here if he wanted to-- I was past the point of caring who caught us. 

"Soon, you say? How soon?" Eric asked, leaning down to press two separate kisses against the corners of my mouth. 

I had to control the way my breath hitched before I answered; "A week and a half,"

Nodding, Eric's fingers brushed against my lips, pressing into the skin as he watched my expression with a heated one of his own. His thumb dipped past my lips, brushing against the tip of my tongue. "I'm out in three," 

I smiled before wrapping my mouth softly around his thumb, watching a breath escape him as his green eyes locked on the sight. Eric leaned down to kiss my cheek, watching as they flushed when he pulled his finger out of my mouth. "Where can I find you when we're out?"

"You seriously think I would leave this place without giving you my address?"

"Okay, good," Eric chuckled, his eyes rounding out with a newfound softness. "Because I think I'll need you out there more than I need you now."

What? I swallowed, biting down on my lower lip. Did he reciprocate the way I was feeling these things? I wondered whether he also felt the pit of fire in his stomach, whether he couldn't breathe whenever I wasn't around, and whether thoughts of me also wreaked havoc through his mind in every waking moment. 

Eric's eyes lowered, taking in my stunned silence. "Honestly, I thought this was purely a lust thing, but... I've come to realize it's not just that. The one thing rehab has taught me, is that I need to break my habits, so here I am. Not running,"

I hadn't smiled this brightly in years. "Eric?"

A hum.

"I feel the same way," I reached out for his face, glad he had bent down a little to make it possible. "I'm quite sure I've gone mad, but standing with you here feels better than any drugs I've ever taken. And quite frankly, that drawing... Fuck, that was quite something." A breathy giggle escaped me, watching as Eric met my gaze with a smirk playing across his plush, pink lips. "That shit was hot. You're so fucking talented, do you know that?"

Eric freed his lower lip from his teeth, inching closer to gently nudge his nose against me. "Nope, I definitely don't know that. Completely oblivious. Which is why I need you around to tell me that, once in a while,"

"I'll tell you every day, if you want," I closed my eyes, relishing in the feeling of our closeness. 

"Good," Eric whispered against my lips, his hands now grabbing at my waist, pressing himself closer to me. "And I'll eat you out every day. Deal?"

I was quite sure I was going to faint. Remember the drawing, I couldn't wait for our time to come. "Sounds like better therapy than anything they've done for me here,"

"Definitely," 

I smiled, giving his dark hair a tug, pulling Eric against me to connect our lips in a passionate kiss. 

How we had gone from staring at each other to this, I had no idea. How it became this enormous feeling burning through my body, I couldn't guess the answer. But the one thing I knew, was that it felt right-- being with Eric like this felt right. Correct. Perfect. 

As our kisses grew with hunger, resembling that one evening on Eric's bed, my body began to grow flushed as his hands dipped beneath my pink jumper, traveling up my torso with a fiery need to be close. "Can I take this off?" he asked, pulling away, panting just slightly.

I nodded, unable to wipe the grin off my face as my sweater got discarded somewhere on the floor, licking my lips out of pure habit. Eric was quick to dip his head forward, swiping his own tongue along mine. My back arched off the wall in surprise, the movement against his body earning me a small groan. This was how I realized he was hard-- I had to suppress another hitch of my breath.

"Shit, I want to take it all off," Eric whispered against my lips. "Everything. Feel all of you." He pressed his lips against my chin, moving his way down my throat and to my neck. I could feel the cool air hitting my back as he lifted my shirt off as well-- my nipples hardened at his attention, his hands gripping my breasts through my bra, squeezing them. 

I whimpered against his touch, writhing in anticipation. I had no idea what he had planned for me, if we were going to go all the way or not; I could already feel my excitement pool between my legs, and there was nothing I could do to stop it. The arousal had been in my system since the second I saw today's drawing, and I let it out by tugging at his dark hair once more, hoping for him to come back up. "Eric, kiss me-- Wanna feel you too," 

I watched Eric's eyes light up as he pulled away and met mine. And he complied, capturing my lips in a needy kiss, his big hands gripping at my hips and digging into my skin through my trousers. Realizing I was the only one with my shirt off, my hands dipped under his, hoping he'd get the memo as I tugged at the hem of his pink sweater. 

Eric's lips barely left mine as he discarded his sweater elsewhere, satisfaction coursing through my veins as our chests pressed up against each other, our hearts beating at the other through our skin. I had desperately wanted to see his tattoos, drink in the sight of the art scattered across his body, but it hit me that we didn't have time-- we didn't know when we'd be caught. I figured I'd leave it to the time we'd be out of rehab, when we'd have time for messy mornings every day, and when we had time to be buried in each other completely. 

"I don't know if I can wait three weeks," I breathed in between hungry kisses, my hands running up and down his toned torso. 

Eric hummed against my lips; "Me neither," 

And with that, it didn't take long before his slender fingers dipped down into my underwear, making my breath hitch at the realization of what was happening. "Been dreaming about this for weeks," Eric whispered, one of his hands disappearing in my hair to hold me in place, making sure my eyes met his as he rubbed tight circles around my clit. "You're all I ever think about."

My mouth was open against his, small gasps escaping past my lips, bucking into his hand as he sped up his movements around my clit. "I'm so crazy about you," I whimpered, watching the green of his eyes swallow me whole with adoration and lust. My mind still hadn't completely registered that this was happening, especially not under the blue lights of the stairwell. "You're better than drugs, I swear."

Eric chuckled against my lips, watching me moan against him as he patted the pad of his finger against the slick of my core. "Better than drugs, you say?"

"Much better," My words were barely coming out properly, and any continuation of that sentence was stopped the second Eric pressed a finger into me. My breath hitched-- fuck. 

He hummed, a sweet smile splayed across his lips; "You're my drug," 

It was almost too much-- I bucked against his hand once more, squirming in his grip as the flame spread through my body. I really couldn't remember the last time I had been this happy or aroused. I let out a breathy moan as he pumped his finger into me, the squelching sound of my wetness drawing forth a blush in my cheeks.

"I'd take my time with you," Eric whispered, capturing my lips in a short kiss before continuing; "But we don't have a lot of time. Forgive me if we make this quick."

I could barely nod, squeezing my eyes shut as I felt his thumb back against my clit, his middle finger curling inside of me. It was obvious that he had done this before. 

My mind was already mush by the time Eric slid his finger out of me, turning me around and peppering my shoulder with wet kisses. It didn't take long before he leaned down to tug my pants down to my knees, fingers eager. I wasn't sure how to explain the burning need that was currently clawing at me, but I knew it was all-consuming. Eric had consumed me-- I knew I was his and only his.

So when I felt his big, strong hands grip my hips, pushing me towards him to allow for an easier entrance, I could only moan out in complete and utter satisfaction as I felt his cock sink into me. Eric let out a breathy grunt, now snaking both hands around my body, burying himself to the hilt with the slowest stroke known to man. "Fuck," was all he managed to say, hissing slightly against my shoulder before sucking down on a spot, wanting to leave behind a mark.

I couldn't believe the strange places my mind went to-- why was I contemplating getting that hickey tattooed? I wouldn't need it anyway, if Eric kept his promise and stayed with me after we both got out. There was nothing I wanted more in the whole wide world.

All my concerns flew out the window as Eric gripped my waist for leverage as he continued to thrust into me, leaving me with my mouth open against the wall. My body was aching with pleasure unmatched anything I had ever felt before, and I knew that the difference between this time and all my other escapades was how much I had craved Eric-- and how much I knew he craved me.

My breath hitched as he nipped at my jaw, whispering sweet nothings into my ear. "Wanted this... so, so long..." Eric let out a grunt as his hands went down to my hips again, pulling away from my neck to watch his cock pump into my dripping core. I was quite sure it was glistening with my slick by the sounds of it. "Wanted this-- Wanted you."

"Me too," I cried, resting my hands against the wall, meeting his thrusts. "Every night, all the time..."

"All the time," he echoed. "Forever."

My breath hitched at both his words and the way one of his hands left my hip, ghosting over my stomach. I knew exactly where it was heading, and I had to bite back a rather loud moan as Eric dipped his hand down between my legs. Eric spread his fingers, covering my whole cunt, feeling the sides of his own cock rut into me. It didn't take long before his whole hand was practically covered in my slick, and I was quite sure I heard a drop hit the floor. Everything about it made me shiver.

Like this, I was practically pushed to rut against the palm of his hand, the pressure against my clit making me gasp-- I knew I wouldn't last long like this. Perfect.

By the sounds of it, Eric wouldn't either. He let a breathy moan escape his lips before he let go of my hips, reaching up to grab my chin, tilting it to the side so that he could kiss me. I let out a soft cry against his lips, feeling my walls clamp down around his thick cock. Feeling beyond full, I reached around to grab his dark hair, feeling his locks between my fingers as a familiar tightening in my stomach appeared. 

"You're the only one I've ever wanted this badly," Eric murmured against my lips, his thrusts becoming rushed and erratic, clearly holding back his high. "Be mine-- Fuck, be mine?"

If I hadn't been this close to my high, I would've cried. "All yours, Eric, all yours... A-Aah!--" My walls clamped around him as I was driven against the palm of his hand once more, driving me over the edge, coming harder than I probably ever had before.

Eric took this as a green light-- It didn't take long before he let out a grunt against my shoulder, gently biting down as ropes of cum decorated my walls, his thick cock twitching with its release inside of me. 

Our pants filled the stairway, and I was quite sure my legs would give out as he pulled out of me with a wet pop, tucking himself back into his trousers. I could only smile, leaning against the wall as I let out a sigh of relief. I was so incredibly glad we managed to do all of this before getting caught-- I was sure I wouldn't have been able to wait until we were both out. The burning in my body subsided, the ache turning into an all-consuming feeling of joy. 

I turned to Eric with a soft smile spread across my lips, trying to steady my breathing. He was especially beautiful now-- kiss-swollen lips really suited him. 

He returned my smile, leaning forward to capture my lips in a soft, gentle kiss. My hands reached out for him, cupping his face as my thumbs caressed his cheeks. It was such an exhilarating feeling to be adored like this, and I wasn't sure I would ever experience it until now. Meeting Eric felt like seeing a lunar rainbow-- exceptionally rare.

However, Eric's sweet smile suddenly turned back into his usual mischievous smirk. Before I could even say a word, he had dropped down to his knees, leaning forward to wrap his lips around my aching sex, covering my whole mound as he sucked at me.

I could barely breathe as I realized what he was doing-- was he sucking his own cum out of me? This was new. And weirdly pleasurable. I let out a wanton moan, gripping his hair in the exact same way I did in Eric's drawing. I could only whimper as his tongue darted out, drawing a circle around my overstimulated clit-- instinctively, my hips bucked against his mouth. Something about this felt weirdly full-circle. "Eric, wait!-- Shit,"

He hummed, looking up at me with those green eyes I loved so much. "Will you kill me if I draw this?"

I could only sigh-- bliss. 

(a/n: PART 1, PART 3 linked here!! enjoy<33)

[taliabhattwrites]

The Sexed Regime, or: You Probably Have the Wrong Critiques of "TME/TMA" Terminology

Let's begin by looking at an interesting dichotomy.

There's an oddly pervasive idea in queer spaces that a truly progressive trans or post-gender politic underscores the irrelevance of sex. In contrast to patriarchal society's utter fixation on "natal sex", queer existence must be transcendent, a space in which one's bodily configuration is understood to be entirely under one's purview, where presentation is simply something we inhabit and implies nothing about our sexualities or embodiments. It is an idea of emancipation rooted in agnosticism, an anti-patriarchal revolution spurred by the lack of belief in our cissexist society's deranged emphasis on knowing what's in our pants at all times.

It's a very appealing idea, I'll admit.

Here's the thing, though.

The naturalization of sex is the foundation of patriarchy, as well as the basis of the heterosexual regime it instantiates. Humanity is cleft in twain, with one sex marked for reproductive-sexual exploitation by the other. Like most other regimes, this one is also powered by belief--belief in the superiority of the 'male sex', the unfitness of the 'female sex', and most of all: absolute belief that sex is immutable, exhaustively binary, and non-overlapping.

What this also means, ultimately, is that those of us who dare to desert the sex we were conscripted into face different pressures and violence. It is obvious that many trans people are also subject to reproductive injustice, as cis women are, and consequently the transphobia they face is very acutely a regendering impulse, a patriarchal desire to drag them back to the confines of womanhood to fulfill their patriarchal purpose. There is, understandably, a certain amount of solidarity between cis women and trans people who have suffered these aspects of the heterosexual regime.

This is in fact the understanding that gives rise to even liberal-progressive uses of 'male socialization' directed at transfems. Trans women are understood to have been spared certain excesses of misogynistic violence and therefore expected to see and approach the world differently. It is simply a neutral observation, of course, no judgment behind it ... well, until it comes time to deny trans women epistemic authority over experiences of misogyny or womanhood, even their own. After all, can transfems really be said to have a full understanding of patriarchy? They weren't 'raised AFAB'!

Oftentimes, this becomes a double bind of proving that transfems did experience trauma, feminization, and abuse even pretransition, often as children, which is then usually dismissed as "trauma dumping" or "equating womanhood to being abused"--despite the minimization of our experiences being predicated on our "lesser" understanding of the trauma of being "misogyny-affected". So let's not retread that.

Instead, I'll point out that people assume a symmetry, a complementarian equivalence, almost, between the experiences of trans people. What I would like to stress is that there is no such thing as a coherent "AMAB" class or a shared "AMAB solidarity" based on shared experiences of oppression, because I have some shocking news that readers may wish to sit down for:

Trans women are oppressed by cis men.

Cis men are overwhelmingly the ones who rape us, beat us, kill us, and seek to abuse us. When we were children, we were bullied and violated for our perceived effeminacy, largely by the cis boys we were most proximate to. Most of us have been around cis men when they've voiced their most dehumanizing, misogynistic thoughts about women, and have been punished for not participating in these rituals of misogynistic rhetoric, too. The trauma of our upbringing involves being locked into spaces with those who sniffed out our differences, our non-conformance, and routinely punished us for being deviant. When we grow up, they are the ones who largely continue to prey on us.

The chief characteristic of transmisogyny is the presumed artificiality of trans womanhood, the idea that we are mimetics, and our womanhood is a farce, a costume whose only purpose is sexual. This dovetails with our disposability--our inability to be women who can bear children, further patrilineality, and secure what minuscule respectability is afforded to the domestically-confined women who continue the male line. As such, our hyperfetishization marks us for extreme violence, as sexual objects that can be freely used and discarded, guilt-free, because after all ... We asked for it.

Why would we "choose" womanhood if we did not want this?

Which, ultimately, brings me to my point: Sex is a social regime of difference imposed on us, but it is, unfortunately, a regime still in existence. My sex is the basis upon which my womanhood is denied and my disposability justified, because the transfeminized are degendered--we are not, as a rule, provided a path "back" to manhood. Our "effeminacy" ensures that we are 'failed' men, because gender is ultimately hierarchal. Losing status, being unmanned, is frankly trivial, and is what underlies the oppression of queer men--trans men included. Most of us are ultimately subject to some kind of degendering, largely due to how a patriarchal society regards those who defy the reproductive mandate, but transmisogyny is a specific manifestation of degendering that trans women experience.

"TME/TMA" may well be an imperfect categorization--all undertakings in boundary formation are imprecise, though not always violent, given that we need descriptive terms to communicate--but the real issue with it is that it's an overly-ponderous and ultimately clunky terminology for the frank reality that the binary sex imposed on us shapes the contours of the violence we experience. I have never experienced the specific kind of misogyny that sees me as nothing but a broodmare, because I'm a filthy troon, that dehumanized abject thing whose only purpose is absorbing (sexual) violence. Yet the acknowledgment that transfems experience forms of violence that others do not--or sometimes, even the acknowledgment that transfems face violent misogyny at all--is much less forthcoming.

Our struggles are indelibly connected, of course, stemming from the same source and promulgated by the same regime that seeks to define us as nothing more than male property. The shape of each is distinct, however, and because people frequently misunderstand the shape of mine, the idea that my struggles are even connected to theirs, that I experience misogynistic violence homoousian with that which they experience, is frequently dismissed, or considered outright offensive.

This is why I talk and write about transmisogyny, and why more people need to become more familiar with how the naturalization of sex and the regime of heterosexuality under patriarchy necessitates our common struggle.

And unfortunately, in order to properly express these ideas, we do need to talk about the regime of sex.

[nightingale-prompts]

Godling-DCxDP prompt

Many don't understand what it's like to gaze into the abyss. To truly know the haunting moment it gazes back. Even fewer can see still stand to throw themselves into that abyss.

Tim never understood why cultists worship monstrosities, being that promised the end of everything for nothing in return. He had seen the remnants of human sacrifices, rituals gone wrong, and man-made horrors beyond human comprehension. Part of him regretted agreeing to partner with Constantine to solve these cases. But another wanted to know more.

After searching through another half-destroyed tome he found something. A location to a summoning circle, an ancient one that these cultists were searching for. The one they needed to finally successfully summon their god.

But they got there too late. The cult had finished their ritual and the "god" they had summoned stood before them.

That god was...perfect. Disgustingly perfect, dreadfully beautiful, and horrifyingly enchanting. His mind etched every detail in his memory. It felt like his mind had conjured this person from his dreams, day and night. It was like looking at an illusion. But his eyes were a hellishly bright Lazarus green.

The cultist bowed to him and his smile, his perfect unnaturally white smile was full of soft warmth. Tim understood at that moment why they worshipped him. Their minds couldn't escape this web of divine energy. They were so enraptured by finally seeing prove of the divine.

"You all have done enough. Your souls will come with me. To the abyss." He said calmly as he waved his hand and each cultist dissappeared.

He sighed softly as he turned his gave to Tim and John.

"You offed 'em? I thought they were your followers." Constantine said gruffly.

"I have no followers. These souls have caused so much damage to this world. They can't be allowed to stay here."

"So you decided to rapture them?" Constantine raised an eyebrow.

"It's complicated. Yes, they did horrible things but if they hadn't discovered the tomes of the old king they wouldn't have ended up this way. Have pity on them. They are just mortals scared and confused searching for meaning. Like I was. I have sent them to the abyss. Their souls with dissipate into the void. There will be no pain. No eternal punishment. Just an end. They will be at peace, I promise. It is what they want." The god's voice echoed, his features rippled as he moved showing afterimages of alternate forms he used.

It was odd. Every fiber of Tim's being screamed for him to bow, to worship, and to give himself to this being. Yet, his feet remained stubbornly planted on the ancient dusty floor.

"Don't look directly at it," Constantine whispered hissed.

Right. You probably shouldn't stare at the otherworldy being that likely has mind warping abilities. Especially one that just said he erased his own followers from existence and saying it was a good thing.

"I'm really sorry. I should make it up to you. Clockwork will be pissed enough that I interfereed so I have to do something to at least make up for this mess."

"You can kick off by doing one and buggering off" Constantine said immediately.

"So cold. How about you? What do you want?"

"I think an explanation would help," Tim said only to get elbowed by Constantine.

"You ain't gotta know nothing, mate. The more we know, the dodgier it gets." Constantine said firmly. "Whatever you are, you need to bugger off. You’ll wreck the noggins of everyone around you."

"I don't mean to. I don't ask people to become obsessed with me or worship me. Mortals have such weak minds they cave at my presence. But I can't help it. I lost my human body recently and can't turn this off."

The being groaned but to human ears it was similar to a purr.

"Seriously, everything I do is filtered through some sensory thing that makes you little mortals think its the greatest thing ever no matter how simple. Touching you would probably melt your brain with how good it would feel. So the trench coat man is probably right."

"You said you lost your human body. How?" Tim asked still staring at the floor as he felt the godling came closer.

"A bad fight. My mortal form wasn't indestructible but saving my family made it more than worth it. But...I haven't seen them since. Im still getting used to this while thing. I just wanted to reach out and find some answers so i reached into this universe and well...you can probably tell what happened next. I just wanted to make it right and fix it. The other ancients said this was the best option and..."

Every moment he spoke the less godly he seemed.

Constantine still wasn't willing to help and had to drag Tim away. When Tim actually tried to look up the fodling was gone.

"Never do that again." The brit said sternly. "Now help me clean this mess up."

[inlovewithl3vi]

I’m obsessed with thinking about a Perv Levi who acts like he can’t control his tail. Of course there’s times where it has a mind of its own, like when he gets particularly jealous and it wraps around your waist. Or when he’s playing games and it just has to be on you. But sometimes it’ll start creeping up your thigh when you’re playing some new game together when you’re too focused to realize where it is.

His tail pushes your underwear to the side before slipping the tip of it inside you. You obviously notice and look over at him, seeing him focused on the game.

The first few times it happened you got his attention by saying his name. He acted soooo embarrassed, saying he would understand if you never wanted to see him again and whining that he just “couldn’t control it”

Eventually you start to just pull away a little, and it works. His tail just stays resting on your thigh while you game. Of course Levi wasn’t happy about it. He knew it was wrong, acting like it was something out of his control when he was the one causing all this. Though he couldn’t lie the thought of you finding out and punishing him just turned him on more.

After weeks of him doing this you got curious. What would happen if you didn’t stop him? That night when going to Levi’s room you decided you weren’t going to stop him that time. And like always his tail crept up your thigh before pushing your clothes to the side and entering your hole.

Levi couldn’t believe you weren’t moving away this time. He got a little more confident, shoving it a little past the tip. You tried to stay focused on the game you two were playing but it was proving to be difficult with his tail sliding into you. Eventually he pushed it in as far as it would go. You held your moan back, still trying to focus on the game, but you immediately paused when you heard a quiet groan coming from beside you. You turned to Levi, just to see his face bright red. “Are you… doing this on purpose?” He immediately froze, his character on the screen going still. “Huh?” He tried to look at you but couldn’t make eye contact. His tail started to thrust in and out of you slowly, making you moan in pleasure. “Ah! S-sorry!” His tail stopped moving but didn’t pull out. “You know… only demons that recently fell can’t control their tail. You’ve been here for a long time though…” he turned away from you. You knew he was just doing this as an excuse to try and fuck you.

[books-and-omens]

I wonder, too, I wonder when Crowley is going to know. The six-espressos-in-a-big-cup protective hypervigilant Crowley. Ever circling around his angel, snapping at the slightest threat, shielding him from harm.

When is he going to know that he’s been manipulated, too?

And when is he going to know what role he himself played in Aziraphale’s decision?

There are so many things he didn’t tell Aziraphale. To protect him, to spare him, to give him time. Except, of course, all of that also meant that Aziraphale had no time and space to process them.

(And yes, there were things that Crowley could not possibly tell his angel. The cruel disdain of Gabriel’s words at Aziraphale’s execution is burned forever into Crowley’s mind; how could he have taken this dagger to Aziraphale? 

Anyway, shouldn’t the fact of the execution itself be enough for Aziraphale to know?)

But Crowley’s angel is kind, is bright, never expects and is forever surprised by treachery: Rose Montgomery turning out to be a Nazi spy, a countess turning out to not be a countess. Of course Aziraphale’s sheer relief on deciding that he’s been wrong about the Metatron will be a powerful force. He wants to be aligned with something bigger than himself; he wants there to be a point.

For all of S2, Crowley deflects threats from Hell. (Aziraphale, involved? Unlikely, Crowley says with studied nonchalance. And how do you know I didn’t do that miracle?) Out of Aziraphale’s earshot, he threatens and hisses, as he has likely done for millennia. Remember Hell’s book on angels, with everything it says about Aziraphale, with instructions to ‘avvoid’ and report to Crowley? Yeah.

By the end, there are key things that Crowley hasn’t told Aziraphale: his visit to Heaven, Gabriel’s punishment, what it was that Gabriel refused to do. Yes, there were archangels in the room, watching. Yes, Crowley had rather assumed that Aziraphale is as done with Heaven as he is himself. Still, it wasn’t Crowley’s instinct to give Aziraphale all the information. And after Aziraphale’s conversation with the Metatron, Crowley was primed to go ahead with a confession, was interrupted during said confession—so in the aftershock of Aziraphale’s words, he went right back to the path he’d already committed to. Then, of course, it was too late; the pain became too much; neither of them were thinking clearly, neither of them had the time to understand.

Yes, telling Aziraphale of the danger may not have helped. Aziraphale is even better at denial than he is at forgiveness; he might have refused to see what Heaven needs him for, how they intend to keep him in line. (Also, no doubt a worrying thought for Crowley if he was conscious of it: it’s very like Aziraphale to go to Heaven to try and stop the Second Coming no matter the risk to himself.)

But the thing is, the Metatron remembers Crowley. And he must know how rash Crowley is. How impulsive, and how likely to rear up and bite when presented with an offer to be forgiven for an injustice done to him.

So yes, Crowley has been manipulated. Through Aziraphale: through his angel’s indefatigable hope, through his desire to see the best and redeem what had seemed (but surely cannot be!) irredeemable: Heaven itself. Manipulated into storming out, his heart broken, the pain of that kiss still on his lips.

Into, after so many millennia, letting Aziraphale walk straight into danger.

I wonder when Crowley is going to know.