#this and only this i will be sympathetic to

[shoomt]

mostly agree.

I do think it's pointless to prioritise "your military is killing civilians" if you want to convince Americans to be more leftist

it's very easy to rationalise it. they don't see the military's actions nor have a say in it, American citizens in general don't have much choice when it comes to foreign policy. they can continue their life, pay taxes and the military won't cross their mind often.

it's easy to mock how they believe the military defend their country continents away, but for a superpower with many enemies, a citizen will only feel safer that the danger is extinguished early and far away.

a little controversial but I do think the usa military isn't completely a force of destruction. it serves America's interests first ofc but it happens to benefit other countries, an example is how trade routes are defended the most by the usa (other countries do it as well, but nobody else can afford to do it as well). another example (unfortunately kinda pro unipolarity) is that it often prevents or delays wars to expand influence by usa competitors, again self-interest driven but neighbours of China and Russia are probably still grateful (you can argue this is still bad I suppose)

the economical advantage as you described feels to me like it is a more important thing to make them consider and is less likely to push them away. I'd rather an american be sympathetic to their military but questioning of their economic position than the opposite.

when usamericans try to say they have it as bad as people in the global south it just reveals that they genuinely do not believe or do not comprehend the fact that real people are currently being killed with bombs

[koenigami]

tags : fem!reader, fluff, suggestive wc : 990 synopsis : he makes you forget about time and space... and tara's party. - It takes a while for your sleep ridden mind to register that the sudden consecutive bangs and sounds of people cheering loudly, are not part of a vivd dream.

You groan as you try to sit up, wanting to properly take in your surroundings, yet somehow you can't. Move, that is. A heavy arm is locked around your waist, keeping you fixated on your bed and pressed flush to someone's warm body.

"Xavier-" You dazedly mutter his name, trying with the little force that you still have left in you to wriggle free from his arm, though your efforts are for naught. Accepting your defeat, you huff and let your head loll to the side, facing the large balcony window.

Bright radiant lights grace the night sky, colouring your rooms in all kinds of colours after each loud bang. Such pretty fireworks, you think and tiredly close your eyes for another brief serene moment.

...

Fireworks?!

Hastily your body jerks up but you don't even have time to triumph over finally having budged your immovable force of a boyfriend. Your gaze searches the clock on your bedside table even though you have to admit that you'd rather prefer not to look at it at all, knowing that your suspicions will likely only further be confirmed.

Eventually, when you snatch your phone from the ground and curse at the sight of a dozen missed calls from Tara, only then does the mentioned immovable force beside you stir awake.

"Mmh... why are you so loud? And turn the lights off, it's still too early." Xavier yawns and buries his face into your side to shield himself from the bright illuminations of the fireworks that are still going on outside.

"Xavier, it's past midnight. Not only have we missed Tara's party, we also missed the countdown."

Drowsily, he lifts his head and squints through the room before his eyes fall on the scenery outside. A quiet oh, is the only reaction that you get from him before he shifts his gaze back to you. His hand wanders from your naked waist down to your hip, but you quickly slap it away before he can get any lower.

Those seemingly innocent gestures of his are what has gotten you in this situation in the first place.

"It's all your fault!" You sound anything but genuinely upset when you pout childishly and mutter something akin to "horny idiot" under your breath which only makes Xavier chuckle delightedly.

"Hey, now-" He interrupts his own words with a big yawn before he decides to perch himself right over your body, balancing on his forearms as he traps your body between his thighs. "You know I can't control myself. Couldn't help myself when I saw you in that dress."

His warm breath tickles your face when his nose gently brushes against yours before it starts leaving a soft trail across your cheek and further down to your neck. He inhales deeply, as if trying to burn your smell into his memory even though you're convinced that by now, you smell more like sweat and him, than the perfume you've put on before he attacked you like a hungry hyena.

"We didn't get to kiss on midnight." Your voice sounds as if you're genuinely upset, though Xavier can't help but smile against your neck.

"Yeah, what a shame." He doesn't sound sorry at all. With a falsely sympathetic expression on his face, he thumbs at the fresh red marks along your neck. He's sure there must be a few more between your thighs. "I guess these were not enough, huh?"

"Xavier, I'm serious. This was our first-" You haven't even noticed that one of his hands has travelled further south your body, until all your nerves seem to activate, and you flinch when the tips of his fingers graze your lower parts. His smug smile is quickly replaced with genuine concern when you whimper in response.

"Love? Are you in pain?" His thumb draws calming and comforting circles over your hipbone as he keeps you still beneath him, like a hawk watching over you for any other signs of ache. You believe that there's not even an ounce of regret in him for the way he had pulled one orgasm after another out of you, until you were nothing but a shaky mess. But the pain etched on his face once he becomes aware that he's responsible for your discomfort truly makes your own chest ache and swell with love at the same time.

Biting the inside of your cheek, you can't even bring yourself to look him in his eyes, opting instead for the sky outside which has returned to its usual dark self, with little stars sprinkled like droplets of white colour all over a black canvas.

"No, I'm just a little sensitive and sore because someone couldn't control himself." You mock and bite a grin back when he sighs and leans down to playfully nibble on your cheek. The pillowy skin of his lips leaves tender caresses along your face as he promises you to clean you up soon, but not before he lets himself fall back beside you with a soft grunt.

With his face so close that the tip of his nose nearly touches yours, all you see is Xavier. Your own starlight that only shines for you. Ever so bright and always guiding you and keeping you company, never leaving you alone in the dark.

"My love." His voice is nothing but a whisper as he tucks your hair behind your ear, and closes the little distance left between you. You breathe a weak gasp against his lips when his warm palm grabs your thigh and throws it over his hip, fingertips delicately dancing along the delicate flesh and leaving goosebumps in their wake. "Happy new year."

The new year has come, yet something is telling you that the night has barely begun.

[gyaruhana]

Would you consider writing thanos from squid game with like a dog hybrid reader? I know that sounds weird 😭

Thanos/Choi Su-bong - Dog Hybrid!reader headcannons

Synopsis: sfw + nsfw headcannons of thanos with a reader who's a dog hybrid

A/N: this is a cute lil idea i mess with it

Warnings: smut content, ear and tail tugging,

SFW

➠ thinks your a cutie from the moment he saw you honestly

➠ immediately flirted with you and holy moly when your tail wagged he found you 10 times more adorable

➠ constantly petting playing with your hair and ears

➠ actually likes to touch your tail sometimes too

➠ you're soft tail is highkey a stress reliever for him😭😭 he pretty much does it subconsciously after a while

➠ love love loves having you in his lap all the time

➠ sees you as his precious little puppy honestly so don't be surprised if he baby talks you a little bit

➠ If you get jealous when he's talking to someone and growl, his heart literally melts

➠ when he gets jealous, he has a tendency to grab you by the back of your neck and pull you away from whoevers flirting

➠ calls you good girl/good boy all the time

➠ does mess around with you from time to time by throwing a ball and telling you to fetch

➠ (which you do go and fetch it)

➠ Overall, loves how cute you are and can't keep his hands off you.

NSFW

➠ mocks you all the time in bed because of your whining

➠ Really loves taking you from the back so he can pull at your tail lightly

➠ literally obsessed with making your ears twitch so he always over-stimulates you

➠ every time you whine he gets even harder somehow and only goes faster

➠ so rough it's crazy like you will be crying/whimpering and it will make him laugh

➠ actually likes making you ride him sometimes but you have to do all the work

➠ He will scratch behind your ears as you try to ride his cock and he will have the most evil smirk on his face ever knowing you're struggling to keep up the pace

➠ If you don't want him to cum inside then he'll pull out and jerk off till he releases on your tail instead

➠ that being said he really does like fucking his cum into you because he'd love to breed you full (even if you can't give birth he still fucks you full because he loves it)

➠ genuinely might bite your ears lightly if he's feeling really mean

➠ Overall, really rough in bed and likes pulling at your ears and tail

"C'mon.. keep riding me, baby. Or can you not handle my cock? Is it too much for your little puppy heart to handle?" He speaks as he looks up at you with a mocking pout - pretending to be sympathetic to your struggle. You let out a whine in response as you slowly lifted yourself up before dropping back down on his cock. The cry you let out made him laugh as he gently pinched your puppy ear that he had originally been scratching gently. In a moment, he pulled out before flipping you over onto your stomach and immediately shoving his cock back inside you with one solid thrust. "Fine. I'll breed you with my cum for you, slut,"

[nightcolorz]

why do so many people act like lestat has better morals or is nicer then Armand in some way? there is nothing in the books that suggest this, Lestat and Armand have committed like the same exact crimes (even the sexual ones.) have fairly similar philosophies on murder (lestat tries to only kill criminals cuz he doesn’t want to take innocent life, Armand tries to only kill people who want to die and would otherwise take there own lives bcus he doesn’t want to take the life of someone who wants to live) Lestats moral stance on killing is more brutal arguably then Armand’s bcus he chooses to kill criminals cuz he likes chasing down his prey and tormenting them it’s fun for him, and Lestat finds maintaining his criminals only rule very hard bcus he “loves innocent blood it tastes better” which is fun. Armand sometimes brutally kills or hunts too and definitely drinks a lot of innocent blood but more often then not tries to make his killing as sparse and merciful as possible. Literally the only evidence at all that Lestat is a better person then Armand is the fact that most of the books are narrated by Lestat who is always informing the audience of his perspective while committing his crimes while Armand never explains anything he ever does even in his own book. But taking “we know more about what lestat thinks” to mean “lestat is a better person then Armand cuz he’s easier to understand” is shallow and biased imo.

show only fans who think Lestat is a better person then Armand make even less sense to me bcus there is even less to suggest this in the show, in fact there is significant evidence to suggest the opposite 😭? But again, Lestat and Armand both torture people, they both are physically violent and scary, both are abusive, both are highly motivated by histories of trauma and being crazy, etc. they are like the same amount of bad 😭 did I miss the thing that told everyone that lestat has a kind heart and Armand doesn’t 💀. I think people just sympathize easier with Lestat in the show bcus he has a really sad backstory we r informed of, but idk bcus we r also informed of Armand’s very sad backstory that In my opinion is easier to conceptualize as capable of breaking someone’s brain to the point where they casually enact torture and live in a constant state of violence. the worst of Lestat’s trauma happens to him when he is like (in the show) 37? 💀 which is still terrible, obviously, but man. I don’t see how he is more sympathetic then Armand😭

[doritoprincess]

i personally dont see Miyazaki’s work as skewing conservative, but Mamoru Oshii (Ghost in the Shell, Angel’s Egg, etc) did say in an interview once that Isao Takahata and Hayao Miyazaki were, to paraphrase: “Stalinist and Trotskyist respectively” mostly in relation to how they ran the company; but also with that framing in mind, seeing Miyazaki like a jaded old-fashioned stubborn commie who thinks everyone including himself has sold out and feels really indignant about it feels like it comes through in his art a lot, especially in stuff like Porco Rosso and The Wind Rises but also in this movie too. i think in the case of this movie, despite how much he’s gone on record as a guy who hates skyscrapers and wants them abolished forever i think its interesting that he simply cant let the beauty of the structures go unacknowledged. like yeah it was a fascist empire with power responsible for untold amounts of tragedy but traversing the space, or whats left of it, you get the feeling people still lived there and forged memories around these locations and were intimately familiar with them; and that those people built and conceived this massive miracle of technology and science (and also probably magic idk) to make this beautifully hand crafted and intricately designed city fly; but the only things that remain in the city are the abundant yet useless piles of wealth, the abandoned weapons of mass destruction that scarred the planet, and the pockets of life that have managed to thrive in the aftermath of such a catastrophic failure; still thriving, even!

i think theres something really scathing yet sympathetic to how Laputa is presented in the movie, maybe this isnt a feeling exclusive to jaded communists but there is something kind of transfixing about the failure of such a seemingly powerful and advanced empire, like we live in the most evil empire in the world right now in real life but a lot of people still live here.

theres another quote by Oshii that gets thrown around a lot and its actually a quote from a conversation he had with Miyazaki about Patlabor 2 and i think as much as Miyazaki might think otherwise i think its an idea he had acknowledged internally when he was making Laputa:

“I've been living in Tokyo for forty-some years. It's easy to think that this is an uninteresting city, or that you want to destroy it. The most frustrating thing I feel when I watch movies such as Akira is that they destroy Tokyo so easily. If you depict it as a city which you won't miss even if it were destroyed, as a fake thing made from only steel and concrete from the beginning, destroying it won't accomplish anything. It's far from being a real catharsis. Even in Tokyo, if you look carefully, if you dig up your memories, you can find some scenery which you are very much attracted to. It can be the evening at the train crossing, or it can be scenery of some vacant land with Seitaka-awadachisou in Tokyo Bay area. We have scenery we love inside of us. It's related to our childhood memories. If you depict (Tokyo) that way, and depict it as something you still have to destroy, I can understand that, but they (those movies) do not. I think they don't have the right issues in mind. Animation can do that. I still think that there is meaning to be found in making a movie which can do it properly.”

thinking about laputa castle in the sky again. what a politically insane movie

[illbegottenfaith]

walking away with your kiss on my cheek...

your relationship with theo starts to sour as you begin to suspect him of keeping secrets from you (theo nott x reader)

a/n - first part of a two-shot I've written! Ngl this thing has gone through wayyy too many drafts and revisions so it’s barely an u healthy relationship, more like unhealthy coping mechanisms, but I have a couple of slightly more intense takes on the trope lined up as well :)

tropes/warnings - mildly (veryyy mildly) toxic/unhealthy relationship descriptions, established relationship, mentions of infidelity, miscommunication, angst

word count - 1.9k

When it came to love languages, Theodore Nott’s was distance. Many of his past relationships had failed once he'd deemed them too suffocating. Nobody had suited him quite like you did. The two of you had somehow stumbled into a mutual understanding of what you wanted out of a relationship. Some considered what you shared too casual to be considered a relationship. You had your separate schedules and commitments, and in your downtime, you kept one another company.

But it worked for the two of you. The best relationships are built between people on the same page, and your perfectly aligned perspectives made the little time you spent together that much sweeter. In fact, things had been going along swimmingly until Katherine entered the picture.

She, or at least the idea of her, entered your life one foggy morning. You were dead on your feet. The aconite you had been tending to as part of your Herbology project demanded your every waking moment outside of your classes. You were just about to fall asleep into your soft-looking, pillowy scrambled eggs when Ivy half-yelled into your ear, as she was prone to doing.

"Didn't know Theo got a new girlfriend!"

Your head snapped up and you groaned. Okay, maybe she wasn't yelling as much as everything sounded ten times louder with that throbbing behind your right temple. You blinked blearily at your friend.

"Huh?"

"Someone's been spending an awful lot of time with Katherine."

It took you a moment to register that you had no idea who Ivy was talking about.

"Katherine Sawyer," she repeated. "Theo's been getting pretty cosy with her, hasn't he?"

Something must have shown on your face, because she immediately dropped the suggestive lilt to her voice.

"I mean - I'm only kidding. It's just that I saw them in the library again last night for, like, the third time this week. I thought you knew." She peered closer at your dark eye bags. "Damn. Are you getting any sleep?"

You shook yourself out of the shock and gave a small smile. "Of course I knew," you lied. If being with Theo had taught you anything, it was how to lie convincingly. "I'm exhausted, that's all."

"Yeah, you look it," Ivy agreed sympathetically. "But really, I was kidding. It's not like he'd do anything. Not Theo."

"Right." You smoothly changed the subject. "So how's your project coming along?"

Still, it bothered you for the rest of the day. Why hadn't he told you about Katherine? He knew you weren't the jealous type, especially when it came to perfectly innocent interactions with the opposite sex. Unless there was a reason for him to keep it from you. You had thought that neither of you was the type to keep secrets from the other, but maybe you had thought wrong. And if he hadn't told you about Katherine, well, what else was he not telling you about?

You dismissed the thought. You were too sleep-deprived for this. It just wasn't like him. Theo would never pursue another girl, not while he already had one on his arm.

Right?

These thoughts were still circulating in your head when you found him reading in the Slytherin common room that evening. You approached him as you always did, but something about what Ivy had said that morning made you hesitate. He didn't look up from his well-worn copy of The Divine Comedy in the original Italian until he felt you sink into the couch beside him. He gave you a strange look before pulling you into his lap, nestling his head in the crook of your neck, the way the two of you usually curled up together when one of you was reading.

"Don't be going shy on me now," he teased lightly. You shushed him, tapping the paperback. As you settled your head on his shoulder, he glanced at your face. "You look tired," he noted quietly. You pulled a face.

"Who knew aconite could be such a bitch?"

Theo turned the page. "I knew. I'd say I told you so, but - ow."

You had sharply tugged at the short hairs at the nape of his neck as a warning. You laughed softly as you ran a soothing thumb over the mildly irritated skin, kissing it better. It was moments like these that made it difficult to harbor any sort of suspicion or resentment towards your boyfriend. As moody and mysterious as he liked to come off, to you he was an open book.

But he still hadn't told you about Katherine.

A few weeks later, Theo and a few others were about to leave for a two-week cultural exchange trip to Durmstrang's. Ivy had dragged you down to the Great Hall where everyone was saying their goodbyes, before disappearing into the crowd in search of Ivan.

Somewhat reluctantly, you walked up to your own boyfriend. Between his trip preparations and your Herbology project, the two of you hadn’t had a minute together for the past week and a half, a new record, even for a relationship as casual as yours.

“Got everything?”

Theo nodded. In his soft, fitted navy blue sweatshirt pushed halfway up his forearms, he looked effortlessly put together. You weren’t scruffy yourself, either. That was why you had any kind of relationship at all, wasn’t it? The two of you made an attractive couple, at least when you acted like one.

You looked over at Ivy, whose boyfriend was humoring a much sappier farewell than yours and Theo's. Scratch that, Ivan lived for Ivy's oddities and eccentricities. Right now, Ivy was kicking a fuss over a fortnight being simply too long of a time to be apart while Ivan promised to call every single night. Occasionally, you had wondered what it would feel like to be in a relationship like theirs, where two weeks apart would be nothing short of agony rather than routine.

As you turned back, you noticed Theo had been following your gaze. He cleared his throat delicately.

"So...two weeks."

"Mhm." You weren't the type of couple to explicitly express affection, especially of the vulnerable kind. You'd miss him, of course, even if you didn't say it. Would he miss you? You shook your head internally. No, you decided, you wouldn't ask. You'd only seem clingy and that wasn't the kind of couple you were. "Be good, have fun."

He adjusted the strap of his duffle bag. You fixed the collar of his jacket. You wondered if he'd tell you about Katherine before he left. From somewhere else in the Great Hall, one of his friends called him over. He pressed a final chaste kiss to your cheek. You watched him walk away with a hollow sort of feeling in your stomach. Merlin forbid you express any kind of attachment to your boyfriend.

He glanced back at you one last time, fidgeting with the strap of his bag, and just like that, he was gone.

Gone.

He didn't say a word about Katherine.

As the two weeks crawled by achingly slow, you tried to convince yourself that you didn't feel the lack of Theo. You had gone longer without talking to him. Hell, before you started dating, you'd only occasionally meet through mutual friends.

But you had never spent time apart feeling this acrid bitterness towards him.

Unbeknownst to you, your friends had picked up on your frutration, especially in the way you had thrown yourself into your work with renewed vigour, doing your best to keep conversations from straying to topics related to Theo.

"I'm going to the owlery to check for letters from Ivan," Ivy was saying one evening, pulling a woollen hat onto her head. "Wanna come with?"

You barely spared her a glance, writing carefully. "Can't. I have this essay to finish."

Ivy deflated visibly. "Don't you want to see if you have anything from Theo?”

You shrugged. You couldn’t be disappointed if you didn’t expect anything.

“Have you heard from him at all?” Ivy pressed.

You gave her a warning look. “Ivy. Stay out of it.”

“Come on, Y/N. Why don’t you call him? I'm sure he misses you."

You laughed derisively, nearly stabbing a hole in the parchment. You might have done that any other time, but you were too mad about his imaginary affair with Katherine.

“Miss me? Theo doesn’t miss me.”

“How can you be so sure? You don’t know what he’s-“

“Because if he missed me,” you finally snapped, "he’d call. Or send me an owl. But he hasn't, alright? He hasn't called and I haven't gone to the owlery because no one's missing anybody. He's doing perfectly fine without me, just as I'm doing perfectly fine without him."

No one's missing anybody.

Tears prickled behind your eyes. You stubbornly watched Ivy turn blurrier and blurrier as you failed to blink them back. Your gaze landed on your essay, and the spots where your tears had caused the ink to run. Your essay was ruined.

You pressed a trembling hand to your eyes as you finally caved in, a pair of warm, comforting hands almost immediately coming to rest on your shaking shoulders. As miserable as you had been, you hadn't acknowledged the pain, let alone how it was eating away at you. Once you started crying, it was as though you didn't know how to stop.

“Why won’t he call, Ivy?” you choked out. "Doesn't he think about me?"

"Of course he does," Ivy soothed. "He's probably just insanely busy."

You sniffled. "How busy can a person be? One phone call, one letter, anything - is that really too much to ask?"

Ivy hesitated. The silence stretched out between you like the confirmation of a truth neither of you wanted to admit. She said it anyway.

“Maybe he thinks you don’t need that from him."

You laughed, the sound sharp and humorless. “Well, he got that part right.”

You sounded ridiculous even to your own ears. It was a testament to your friendship that Ivy didn’t try to argue with you. She gave your shoulder one last squeeze before standing, her footsteps soft as she made her way to the door. “I’m going to the owlery,” she said, lingering for a moment. “If there’s anything for you -"

"- burn it."

" - I’ll bring it back.”

You focused on the ruined essay in front of you. Messy smudges had formed where your tears had fallen. It was beyond repair, much like the knot in your chest that no amount of rationalising seemed to untangle.

As the door closed behind Ivy, an unbearable silence descended upon your dorm. You pressed your hands against your temples, willing yourself to stop thinking about him, about how easy it seemed for Theo to carry on without you. Maybe that was the worst part—the inescapable realisation that you weren’t half as essential to him as he was to you.

You stared at the blurred words on the parchment, feeling the ache settle deeper into your chest. There was no scintillating revelation, no blinding eureka moment. Just the quiet, gnawing thought that maybe this was all you’d ever be to him—an afterthought.

And maybe, you thought bitterly, crumpling your essay, you deserved it for letting yourself believe otherwise.

[velvetydream]

꒰ : 🥀 [ Hold my hand ] ”♡ᵎ꒱ˀˀ ↷ ⋯

Summary : Showing Draco someone wants him to stay and won't let go of his hand.

Pairing : Draco x Reader

Word count : 0.5K Words

Genre : Fluff, Angst

Warnings ➵ None?

a/n : Got this idea from a lil TikTok and immediately had to write a lil smth..

┌───────────────────────── ·  ·  ·  · ♡

It was quiet in Hogwarts. The great hall was littered with bodies and white sheets, blood stains everywhere. It smells like metal. Walking through the hall, a smile sent to some of your friends, patting them softly on the shoulder before approaching the boy in the far corner. His back was turned to you.

Arms lay softly around his neck, head resting on his soft white blonde hair now. His shoulders and whole form relax from your warm embrace. No words were spoken, your touch was speaking for itself. Draco slowly moves around in your embrace facing you, arms moving around your waist and pulling you closer to him, his face pressed in your stomach to hide the clear tears falling from his face, mixing with the dirt on his face. A little scratch on his cheek already with dried blood. His blonde hair patchy from all the dust and dirt collected in it.

"It's alright.." Your own voice is hoarse, hoarse from shouting at your friends, from screaming,, and from crying. "We're alright.." Your fingers glide through the few knots in his hair, shielding his face from the people around you, knowing he hates to be seen as weak. Looking around quickly your eyes stop on the Weaslys, on Lupin and Tonks, on all the other people lost. Your eyes meet Hermione, sending her a soft, sympathetic smile and nod before turning around to your boyfriend again. His hands are clawing at the back of your dirty blouse. "I'm here.." Leaning down to press a soft kiss on his head. Moving around to sit down beside him, you pull his face back into your neck, more comfortable now.

"I love you.." Words of love are whispered softly in his ears, a quiet sob leaves his lips. "I'm sorry.. I.." He speaks, his voice breaking, tears now gathering in your eyes now too. "Don't, nothing is your fault, it's alright, you did nothing wrong they forced you to it, love.." Pressing a kiss to his temple tears running down your cheeks quietly now.

A scream sounds from outside making everyone raise their head, even Draco, his bloodshot eyes looking through the hall as everyone moves out to see where the commotion is coming from. Everyone has gathered in front of the main door, two sites opposite each other. Coming face to face with Voldemort and his followers. Laughing at everyone how Harry Potter is dead, offering everyone to join the dark side or die.

"Draco.." His father, looking over to his son, your own eyes catch him for a second, a glimmer of disapproval in them for you. You weren't a Slytherin and only a half-blood; of course,, his parents would hate you, especially his father. Not moving from beside you, his mother got concerned. "Draco.. Come here.." Her soft voice sounds, holding out her hand; he takes a look around before looking at you. He is torn between you and his parents, ready to take a step toward them; your own hand shoots out, grabbing him and shaking your head. Draco's eyes widen, and look to your hand and then to your face. Stepping back again beside you, his mother's hand lowering slowly in disbelief.

Your eyes meet his, a spark of hopefulness in both of your eyes. You would make sure he won't die and know he would do the same.

[m41-d]

being eastern european it obviously follows that my grandparents went through some pretty unimaginable historical hardship. which obviously i am sympathetic towards. it did however give my grandmother mental health complexes that the DSM can only dream of.

[saphiccarma]

- Sweet Thing Pt.4

pt.3

Relationships - Agatha Harkness x Rio Vidal x Reader

Summary - You do your best to hold out, to not give away the secret of your home to the new pirates that captured you. Just when you think you're about to give up, your pirates in shining armor arrive to save you

Warnings: descriptions of torture

A/N: Sorry it's a lil' bit short. BUT GUYS when I say that i have spiraled into a whole siren lore and is now completely unrelated to this story...oops

Chains held your arms up, the cold metal digging into your skin harshly and holding you in place. Your knees were sore from how long you had been kneeling on the wooden floor, skin raw and sensitive to the touch. Sweat made your hair stick to your face, and you wanted to wipe it away, but your hands were held in place.

Somehow, these people knew you were a siren. They wanted to know where the rest of your kind was. Your neck ached from where it dangled, falling to rest against your chest. Agatha's shirt was soaked through with sweat and blood, tears on the back of it from how hard they had hit you with the whip. Withholding information led to pain, a biting one that slowly withered down your defenses. You almost told them what they wanted to know, or some form of lie to make it stop.

The door creaked open, wood grating and wood, and your eyes remained shut as you braced for pain. Somone crouched in front of you, a gruff hand tilting your chin up, digging into the bruises and small cuts. You winced but didn't have the energy to flinch away or even try and fight back. Any strength you had was gone. The hand squeezed your cheeks, forcing your mouth open and that caused your eyes to flutter open slowly, your swollen cheek slightly obscuring your vision.

This was your least favorite man. Which at first might seem odd. He looked like the kindest of all the crew. Even with his bulky posture, he kept his lips always curled into a fond smile and his beard made him look almost father-like. He had a tendency to speak softly, deceptively, luring you into a false sense of security. Along with that his blue eyes always shone with compassion, but it was false.

He often came to you after a long session of pain, gently clearing away your blood in a way that was almost caring, or maybe sympathetic. At first you thought he was just trying to be kind, but after he cleaned you up, he would ask you questions. You almost always answered them, seeing as they started off innocent enough before having deeper meanings that you couldn't answer. He told you his name was Henry, and he would repeat his ask, keeping his voice controlled and careful. It was foolish of you to think he actually meant well. If you failed to answer any of his questions it would result in him socking you in the face, his large fist slamming your head to the side and making your nose bleed, mixing with your tears.

The process repeated over and over again. Sometimes he brought food, water, giving you a sip or a bite, then holding it just out of reach. The only way you got it was through answering his questions. And slowly, he chipped away at your defenses, dwindling your mental walls down until you were a jumbled mess.

Henry tapped your bruised cheek with his large thumb, "C'mon, it's time to get up."

You took a moment to process his words, and by the time you had your hands had fallen down to your sides, free from your restraints. Without the chains holding you up, the cold cuffs clamping down on your wrists, you slummed further into the floor. Your shoulders ached from being strained for such a long time, and you sighed in slight relief at the brief pause in pain. That pause didn't last long before you were hauled up, Henry's hand firmly clasped around your forearm, and he was dragging you away.

You stumbled, your legs unsteady and weak, but Henry didn't care. He forced you through the ship, leading you further in. It was only a moment before he paused, slammed you against the wall, and ordered for you to stay. Even if you wanted to, you had no energy to fight his command. Giving you a pointed look that promised pain, Henry crouched, fingers digging into the floorboard. He pried it up, the wood splintering and snapping slightly, but it revealed a small compartment.

It wasn't large by any means, although it looked long, but it was rather short. Your breath caught in your throat when Henry took a hold of you again, his hand cupping the back of your neck, before shoving you towards it. For the briefest of moments, you had some energy to fight, unwilling to be shoved into the tiny area. But you were tired, all your energy was sapped, and you were skinnier than usual, and Henry was a healthy, full grown man. It was no use.

Your legs scraped against the floor as you were slid into the slot like some tool, the walls squeezing your arms tight and your feet pressing against the other end. It was suffocating and your panicked scream was muffled by Henry slamming the floorboard back into place. Wiggling slightly, you were able to pound your hands up against your cage, but it did nothing. Your voice was raw, too sore to scream, even as you tried. Your feet kicked with what minimal space you had, and your hands beat the wood until they were aching even more.

And when you finally stopped, your breath coming in ragged and short gasps, you recognized the sound of pounding footsteps above deck, eerily similar to the day you were taken from Agatha's ship, and orders being shouted out. Anxiety bubbled in your chest, mingling with the fear that coursed through your veins. Your heart thundered in your ears, louder than the thunderstorms you cowered from as a child, and that was one of the only things you could focus on. That and your rapid breathing, so apparent in the small space.

You listened to the sounds above deck, stomach swirling with anticipation as you waited, chest rising and falling rapidly. The wooden floor dug harshly into your back, burning against the cuts that littered your skin and irritating them. Your eyes squeeze shut, and you whine as your back is alight with pain, keeping you on high alert. It felt like forever before you heard footsteps directly above you, and you forced your arms to hit against the wood again, hoping to be let out.

There was a small shuffling above you, muffled voices, before the wood was pried back and you could breathe again. But then you caught sight of who was standing above you and your breath vanished again. Rio's brown eyes stared down at you, her head tilted in concern. She reached down, pausing when you flinched.

"You're not real," you whispered, but still you climbed out of the compartment, shuffling until your back was pressed against the wall, "You're not real." You shook your head, eyes squeezing shut as you tangled your hands into your hair.

Fake-Rio exhaled softly, and you could hear her move some more, shifting closer to you. She had to be fake. There was no way in any universe that they could have found you, or that they would have wanted to find you. You were a plaything for them, a toy, not someone that had any use. You had to be delusional, just hallucinating her as a way to cope with the pain. Your entire body shook as you curled tightly in on yourself, pressing against the wall as a form of support, and tugging on your hair.

Slowly, you rocked back and forth, begging your mind to return to reality. You didn’t want to get your hopes up, especially when Rio wasn't actually her. Fake-Rio's hand landed on your arm, her touch the most gentle than it had ever been, and you flinched away.

"Hey," she said softly, "Look at me." When you whine and shake your head, Fake-Rio's hand moves to grasp your chin, forcing your head up, "Look at me." Her words are repeated, firm, and you meet her eyes. They are shining with the same layer of mischief you have grown used to, and as much as you loathe to admit it, you missed. But above that was a shimmer of concern, one that was so uniquely Rio. Everything about her screamed that she was real. From the confident tilt to her shoulders, the slight tug at her lips, to her brown hair.

"Rio?" you croak, your voice quiet and trembling in the narrow corridor. The woman nods, a small smile tugging at her lips, and that's all you need to launch yourself into your arms. It's a brief moment before she returns your desperate hug, and you hardly care for the way your back burns anymore. Tears stream down your face and sobs rack your body, "You're real." You repeat the words over and over. Your entire body shakes in Rio's grasp, completely tuned out from the world around you.

You don't budge from your position when Rio stands, taking you with her and carrying you like a child. Legs wrapping around her waist, you keep your arms slung around her neck and face buried into her shoulder bone, snot and tears soaking her shirt. Her arms held you steadily, marching up the steps to above deck, and she waltzed through the chaos that was happening. Agatha had killed several people, her brutality shining through clearly, and the rest of the crew had helped.

Ignoring the pure bloodshed around her, Rio's walks the plank onto her ship, shouting something you hardly heard. You were carried all the way down below deck, and panic spiked within you again. You struggled, scared to be trapped once more, but Rio gently shushed you, her voice kind and reassuring. You just barely registered footsteps above deck once more, and the felt the ship spur into motion, sailing across the sea. Rio kicked open and door and you could smell the familiar scent of the bedroom.

She placed you down on your bed, untangling you from your tight grip around her. You whimper, reaching for her, but Rio bats your hands away. Tears well in your eyes, and for a moment, she looks panicked, but as always, Agatha comes to the rescue. Your eyes snap to her and you try to scramble off the bed and get to her. Key word: try. As soon as you are standing, your legs collapse beneath you and fall to the floor with a loud thump and a cry of pain. Agatha can’t help but smile at your eagerness to see her, but her smile is tinted with a dark edge, a clear sign of her corruption that was slowly ebbing away at your heart.

Scoffing, Agatha reaches down, hauling you back into the bed, although her touch is more gentle than usual. She props you up against the wall, taking in your face before brushing away the stray hairs that still clung to your dirty skin.

"Hi, sweet girl," she says softly, her fingers trailing down your face and along the series of bruises and cuts, "Let's get you cleaned up, yeah?"

Her hands dig into the pouch to bring out the cloth. The clean-up process is slow, intimate, and clear. Agatha makes sure to get every inch of your skin, stripping you from her oversized shirt that was now soaked in blood and sweat, stinking heavily, and tossing it to the side. It lands on the floor with a wet plop. While Agatha cleans all the cuts, getting all the dirt, grime, and dried blood out, Rio gently untangles the mess that is your hair. It's messier than it's ever been, ruined by how many times it had been grabbed and yanked backwards, but Rio is patient and kind as she undoes it all. Her fingers work with deliberate care.

And as they clean you up, taking care to treat every single one of your injuries, you stare blankly off into the distance. They ask you questions as they work, trying to bring you back to the land of the living, but you are too absorbed in your own head to take in what they are saying. Memories of the past few days flash in your mind, over and over, and you can hardly believe that you are safe again. Subconsciously, your leg bounces nervously, a steady beat to keep you somewhat present, despite your severe exhaustion.

At some point Billy knocks on the door, peeking his head in. He yelps at the sight of you naked, quickly shutting his eyes. Normally you would've smiled at his reaction, maybe even laughed, but you do neither of those. Instead, you continue to stare blankly at the wall, blinking in slow, long, pauses.

He clears his throat, "Uh, Lillia made some soup that she sent me with," he mumbled, but his eyes remain closed as he reaches a shaky hand through the door, "Here."

Agatha takes hold of the bowl, nodding at Billy to dismiss him, and he slammed the door shut a bit louder than necessary. Both women rolled their eyes as Agatha passes the soup to Rio. The younger woman, cups in in both hands, gently blowing on the side of your face in an attempt to get your attention.

"Sweet girl," she whispers, hoping the term of endearment will get you to focus, "Let's get some food in you."

On queue your stomach rumbles harshly, a clear sign of your hunger, but your eyes never move from their spot on the wall. Your breathing remains steady, but they can both see the silent panic swirling within your eyes as your chest rises and falls.

Agatha presses harshly down on a bruise, and you yelp, glaring at her. She gives you nothing but a sly smirk in return, "Have some food."

You glance at the bowl, lips pressing into a firm line, and despite your deep hunger, you shake your head.

"Not hungry," you mumble, fixing your gaze back on the wall. Agatha huffs, annoyed, and is ready to get your attention again before Rio shakes her head. Sighing, Agatha resumes cleaning you up while Rio shoots her shot.

She taps the side of your cheek softly, taking care to be gentle, "Just one bite please?" Slowly, Rio brings the spoon up to your lips, holding it there patiently while she waits for you to do something. It takes a moment, but you open your lips hesitantly and Rio tips the soup into your mouth. That's all it takes for you to snatch the bowl away from her, unaware of the triumphant glance she trades with Agatha, and down the food in a just a minute.

Your hands shake around the bowl after it is emptied, and it clatters to the floor. You wince at the noise.

"Sorry," your words are hardly audible, but neither women care, both just glad you ate something. Rio smiles softly, her hands cupping your face in the most caring way possible, and she turns you towards her.

"I am glad you are safe," she whispers, pulling you close, before planting a soft, gentle kiss to your lips. You melt into her touch, arms grabbing at her shoulders.

And you thought they were your saviors in that moment, but little did you know that this was just the start of their corruption.

Taglist: @vigilante24ish

[aramynx]

SWEET BERRY WINE & COURAGE

IZUKU MIDORIYA X READER

summary: you get the chance to reconnect with izuku a few years after graduation at a new years party, and a few glasses of wine bring you to spark up a conversation…

a/n: we a little late with this one but i hope you guys enjoy! i left izuku out of my christmas fics so he’s getting the new years special all to himself >:3

*.·:·.✧ ✦ ✧.·:·.*

You were starting to feel a headache coming on- this heroes party had been going on for way too long and the noise was finally starting to get to you after five hours of being surrounded by people. Thankfully, this was a press-free event, so at least you didn’t have the paparazzi forcing a camera in front of you at every waking moment. You had already spoken to most people, everyone had dawdled back off into groups they were familiar with, so you ended up sitting among your classmates from your UA days. The wine you were drinking was only a stronger red, smelling and tasting like berries.

You listened to their conversation, not really paying much mind to what they were saying as your eyes scanned the room, finger lightly tracing the rim of your wine glass. They decided to settle on a familiar head of green hair standing in front of the near empty buffet table. Hastily you stood up from your place at the end of the table and made your way over. Regrettably, you and Izuku hadn’t been as close as you had hoped back in high school, and slowly lost touch over the past couple of years with life getting in the way- now would be a good time to catch up, since he was currently by himself, looking handsome in a neatly pressed black suit, accompanied by the classic red shoes, of course.

“Hey Izuku! Long time no see.” You said rather loudly as you approached him with a wave, “You look great tonight! How have you been?”

“Y/N!” Izuku smiled back. That big, beautiful, beaming smile that hadn’t changed one bit since the first time you saw it, still full of hope and happiness, “Thank you, I’ve been good- just really busy, you know?”

Izuku didn’t get nervous to the extent that he used to anymore, although he was still pretty easy to fluster, and his face would still turn completely when he blushed.

“You look good too, by the way.” He said, smiling as he looked you up and down, admiring how wonderful you looked in your chosen outfit, and how the colour complimented you perfectly.

“How’s your agency?”

A long conversation led to the two of you standing away from the bustle of the people in the crowds, in front of a large window overlooking the dark city, illuminated by the dull glow of apartment windows. One thing led to another and before you knew it you were casually chatting about the people you both knew and who had ended up in relationships.

“I had no idea they were together, that makes sense though.” Izuku said, chuckling slightly.

“Yup. Anyway, have you found a partner?”

“Oh! Uh- no, I haven’t.” He admitted, “I’ve been on a few uh- awkward dates here and there but they didn’t work out.”

He scratched the back of his head, averting his eyes from yours. He was a little ashamed to admit that he was struggling to get into a relationship, but it wasn’t that big of a deal to him. You smiled sympathetically, knowing he was a pretty awkward person and that wasn’t likely to change any time soon.

“You know…” You started, confidence spilling out of your mouth more than you’d like it to, “I used to have a crush on you in high school.”

“Wait really? I had no idea!” He said in surprise, face tinting red as the reality of your words set in. Sure it was a few years ago now, but his head was conjuring up ideas of what could have been, if only he had the courage to ask you out back then, “I felt the same way back then as well, it’s a shame we didn’t get closer than we were, huh?”

Despite trying to hide his sprawling thoughts with a calm and collected confession, Izuku merely came across as more nervous than before, stuttering a little as he told you. You noticed that people were rushing into the centre of the room for the countdown to midnight, when suddenly the wine in your system gave you an idea.

“Do you want to know who I have a crush on now?” You smiled mischievously stepping ever so slightly closer to him, “He’s a pro hero, name starts with ‘D’.”

“Is that so?” Izuku asked curiously, his heart skipping beats as you were suddenly very close in his proximity.

“… and it ends with e-k-u…” You whispered, listening as people began to count down from 30 as the clock ticked into the new year.

Izuku’s mind quickly processed what you had just said, blushing hard as the gap between your lips narrowed, meeting gently as the year rolled over into the next. The sounds of fireworks outside aligned with the sparks in his stomach as you kissed, his mind quieting for a moment. Your arm found its way around his neck, resting gently on his shoulder, his arm reaching around you to place a hand carefully on your lower back to pull you in closer. As your lips remained pressed against each other for just a moment longer before pulling away, eyes locking into a shared, delighted and surprised trance as cheers began to erupt from the crowd.

“Happy New Year!”

*.·:·.✧ ✦ ✧.·:·.*

[heliosunny]

Yandere!Gojo x Reader

"So there's this new teacher-" Shoko barely got the words out before Gojo was gone, a blur of white hair and boundless curiosity. He didn’t have much time before his next mission, but curiosity burned brighter than any responsibility.

Sliding open the door with unnecessary flair, he called out "Y/N L/N!!!"

You froze, mid-sentence with your students, eyes widening at the sudden intrusion. Slowly, you turned. "Uh... Yes?"

"woahhhh you're h-" Before he could finish, Megumi clamped a hand over Gojo’s mouth and dragged him backward, tossing him out with a sigh. "I'm sorry.. just ignore him.."

You chuckled, nodding. “I guessed as much. He seems... eccentric.”

After that day, Gojo Satoru became little more than a ghost. He drifted through the school on occasion, but missions whisked him away to far-off places. You caught glimpses but never exchanged more than polite nods.

When Gojo returned from a mission, Yuuji greeted him with the news that made his heart sink. “She was only here for a week.”

Gojo's expression fell as he slumped into his seat. “HUHHHHH?! You’re joking.”

Yuuji patted his back sympathetically. “Sensei, it’s okay.”

Nobara, perched with her chin in her hand, shrugged. “She’s from the Fukuoka branch. And rumor says she just got a boyfriend. No chance for you, Gojo.”

Gojo glanced at her with wide, teary eyes. “Ehhhh?!”

Megumi arched a brow. “Why are you so obsessed?”

Gojo sighed dramatically. “It’s rare to meet someone that stunning. I mean—”

“You want to make a Gojo baby with her-” Nobara said bluntly.

Yuuji clamped his hand over her mouth, dragging her out. “Don’t encourage him!” Megumi followed without a word, and the three left Gojo alone, sulking.

Fukuoka, huh? He thought, lips curling into a smirk.

By the time Ichiji realized Gojo had vanished, the sorcerer was already in Fukuoka.

You browsed a small bookstore when someone barreled into you.

Gojo caught you just before you hit the ground. “Ah, sorry! Are you hurt?”

You blinked, recognizing the man immediately. “Gojo? What are you doing here?”

Before he could answer, another man appeared, placing a hand protectively on your shoulder. “Who’s this?”

Gojo’s smile barely wavered. “Her colleague.”

The man offered a handshake. “I’m her brother. Sorry, I thought you were bothering her.”

Gojo accepted the handshake with a tight smile.

Later that evening, you invited him to dinner. Gojo agreed far too quickly.

While waiting for your brother to bring the car around, you shot him a suspicious glance. “Why are you here?”

He leaned lazily against a lamppost. “Where else would I be? I didn’t get to know you, and you already left.”

The dinner passed comfortably, but when Gojo lingered at your doorstep, you shook your head. “Gojo, the higher-ups need you. Go.”

“But Y/N—”

You shut the door, leaving him standing in the cold.

In the following days, Gojo became a fixture at your side, appearing more frequently than his own students.

Your brother, less than thrilled, arranged a blind date to steer you away.

Gojo, en route to his favorite dessert shop, spotted you across the cafe with another man.

His blood boiled. Before he could think better of it, he stormed inside, yanking your hand from across the table.

“What are you doing?” you hissed.

His jaw tightened. “I should be asking you that. Who was that?”

“My date.”

“Why?” His voice dropped dangerously low.

You pulled your hand away. “Why not? You never said anything.”

Gojo’s eyes narrowed behind his glasses. “My feelings are obvious, Y/N.”

“You deserve someone better,” you replied softly. “Besides, dating you means dealing with the higher-ups.”

Gojo stepped closer, crowding your space. “So, that’s it? You’d rather settle for him?”

You tried to look away, but he caught your chin between his fingers, tilting your gaze up. “Y/N, you can’t run from me.”

You swallowed, pulse racing. “Gojo—”

“Satoru,” he corrected, voice soft yet commanding. “Say it. Just once.”

The words died on your tongue as he leaned down, lips brushing your ear.

“You’re mine. And I don’t let go easily.”

[leonakingschlar]

Lion's mane. ✂️

A short Fic of GN!Reader x Leona Kingscholar, doing his hair together. Originally posted on a TWST Community!

Leona groans as the sun filters through his curtains, the dust and such avaliable to see due to it. Hot and stuffy he sits up with blurry eyes and messy hair, practically rolling off his bed as he trudged to the windows, pushing them open lazily with a toothy yawn, his canines out for show as he did so. With that done he sits back down in bed, looking around for his phone he fell asleep with hours earlier. He finds in on the floor and lays back down with it, scratching his stomach with his free hand before turning on his phone.

Greeted by a litter of messages from Ruggie asking stupid questions, then correcting his spelling mistakes in a previous message- It's really just useless. With a huff he clicks out of Ruggies profile and scrolls through his contacts, finding the one saved as 'Herbivore.' and flicking through. It was an assortment of messages from you, saying good-morning or sending him his school scheldule for the day. After texting you back with a few lame stickers and short sentences like, AT 10:24 AM - FRIDAY "Thanks. Lunch at 1. Come to the gardens." AT 10:26 AM - FRIDAY "Icl, I'm so fuckin' tired." AT 10:30 AM - FRIDAY "Will do! Have a good day Leona, hope you wake up better. <3" He puts down his phone, letting out another loud and obnoxious yawn as he gets up and walks to his bathroom..- However. When he see's his hair in the mirror he get's a bit of a shock. braids undone and hair tangled with his hairties, a knot or three easily spotted. Leona took pride in his hair, and this..was not something he likes. With a groan he pulls out his phone again, calling you up immediatley. As he waited for you to arive he angrily, and a bit agressivley showered, attempting to brush his hair- only to hiss and growl in pain. At this point he's just accidentally ripping hair out and filling up his brush, tail fwipping back and forth in annoyance as he sits on his bed with a groan, wet hair dripping onto his blanket and shirt. His sulking is interrupted by a knock at the door. With a growl he opens it up, met with the obvious sight of you. His hair is a mess..tangled and dripping, the look on his face in unimpressed and upset, on the edge of angry.

"..Herbivore." He muttered with gritted teeth, clearly fed up with his own hair as he stepped aside for you to walk in. "Leona..What, happend?" You said softly, blinking in confusion at the man, stiffling a laugh because of his drenched-kitty appearance, his ears flat and pressed against his own head. "I slept..messily." He grunted in response, scratching his messy hair. You smile, eyes crinkling in amusement as you approach, observing his tangled hair and gently pulling little bits apart with your fingers. "Is that so? and I'm assuming you want help." You chuckle. He makes a face, huffing again. "Yes. I want help."

"Alright then..let's get to work.."

You gently tug on the tangles and twists in Leona's hair, causing him to shout, "OWH!" he snarls, sitting in a chair facing the mirror in his bathroom as you brush his hair. His tail was now swishing around in annoyance. You offer him a sympathetic look, cringing slightly everytime the brush got caught. Leona was making a low growling noise in his throat the whole time as you fixed up his hair. "Sorry.." You had to say softly, combing your fingers through his hair, causing the man to let out a happy growl. "It's untangled now.." You assured. To that he grunted and stood up, shaking his hair unruly and putting his own fingers through it- Shedding all over his own clothes, making you laugh quietly. "So..what hairstyle do you want to do?" You ask innocently, only to be swiftly answered. "Braids." You sigh boredly.

"Seriously..try something new." Leona turns his nose up, huffing at you. "Why should I." He mutters. "Well..isn't having braids in what made your hair all messy and tangled?" He stops for a moment, exhaling through his nostrils as he turned his head to face you, giving you an almost pouty look of acceptance as he pursed his lips. "..Fine." Leona muttered to your joy "Yay!". You two sat on Leona's bed, the beastman has his legs crossed, allowing you to gently tug and stroke his hair, styling it. "..What're you doing?" Leona said curiously, ears and tail twitching. "A braid, but just one." Leona stayed quiet, letting you work. It seemed he was drifting off, relaxed from the gentle touches and sun coming through the windows onto his face added to the subtle pleasure.

"Done." You eventually spoke softly, tying up the end of his now braided hair and pulling away. Leona stood up and trailed to the mirror, moving his newfound braid to the front of his chest, admiring it quietly. "Not bad, Herbivore..Maybe you can do my hair some other time, huh?" Leona said with a growing smirk, he attempted to feign nonchalant- Though his tail spoke otherwise as it wagged back and forth.

That week, Leona called you over asking you to do his hair more often.

[thaltro]

Hey, I analyze your bad guys design on TikTok awhile ago, so I really want to analyze the new design of Atrophy mostly on the color scheme you picked and little bit things I said before but add too it. The color looks so good! The white is really nice with the color green slime/goop that Atrophy is made out of, it makes him stand out. Which I believe that what he would want because he definitely has a complex on not being enough so a white suit will make him pop out from others. Also the base symbol of white is purity,innocence, and goodness everything Atrophy isn’t but something he was as a child(if we go by the canon were passive was the kindest person in the multiverse in his story). The mask thing is definitely stuck to his face no doubt about it.how you add the moon and sun theme is so genius, it a subtle detail were it reminds the audience that Atrophy will always be connected to dream and theirs au, even if he doesn’t want to be. Because the mask is stuck on there but I don’t think the tie is so even if Atrophy say he doesn’t want to be connected to dream deep down he does he always has/will/be connected to his brother whether he recognized it or not. The way you made the green more bright on him is great, the base green symbolism is New beginnings, peace, nature, harmony, jealousy, greed which only some those really apply here the New beginnings, jealousy, greed and nature (only a little bit on the nature because it connect him to his mother who became a tree). The new beginnings (him changing looks entirely, his name and like you can say his personality him now and when he was child)(also what goes to happen to him in this story) jealousy ( boy has been jealous since day one) and greed (and this might be a lot of a stretch but believed he deserves so much better so he make sure he has the most lavish things,items,clothes,food, he collections things he didn’t even like,hoarding it because he believe he deserves to have them, he was denied so much as a child so now he has the privilege to make sure no one get more than he had as a kid) even though he secretly hate himself so deeply. (I talk about this before but I promise I adding something new!) He named himself Atrophy because he sees himself as a waste/effectiveness but he rename himself even though nightmare have more villain definition being a frightening, unpleasant because he needs control over himself he needs to feel better about himself so he rename himself because it gives him control, he can’t be hurt when people call him Atrophy because he himself calls himself Atrophy. No one can hurt you as badly as you can yourself. That how I believe why Atrophy name himself Atrophy. Anyway I think this get long enough, I will be back! I can promise you that I’m so excited for your story and everything you have planned! Also I should add psychology has a lot matching colors as Atrophy so it says a lot about these two, maybe I’ll get psych (rubbing my hands evilly to gather) anyway bye bye have a good day or night wherever you’re at!sorry about how long this is and if my writing isn’t the best.

How the hell did you interpret all that accurately? /not mad

I haven’t even posted the webcomic and I have a lot of people send me really accurate interpretations of Atrophy, this one is really good.

Yk in nightwatch I wrote for atrophy not to be shown nuanced or sympathetic light until like mid act 2. Like he does HORRIBLE shit for the majority of the comic, I have to make a chart of content warnings just for his actions. If I ever garnered a small fandom around it I expected little to no analysis of him but I post one picture of him lol and I have like character design theory essays in my ask box.

You are very right on why he named himself, I love how you worded it too.

Atrophy is a hoarder for the exact reasons you mention, Atrophy tries to embody what he never had- power, wealth, and masculinity. Having trinkets and a large home are included in that. He hoards food too, he has an entire basement that he dedicates to non perishable food that he will never eat, as he can’t eat food. He doesn’t know why but it feels safe with it there.

You also noticed how psych and atrophy have color schemes similar, which is 100 percent intentional. All of the characters i directly parallel have similar color schemes. Atrophy and psych are Enemies but also the closest and most familiar to one another. To atrophy psych is just a mirror of himself, which creates a oddly hateful, dependent, and egotistical relationship with him.

The color symbolism especially the green symbolism is intentional. Atrophy is greedy, gluttonous, and jealous and I always associated that with green. He’s also supposed to resemble a wine bottle with his color palette- as a reference to his lavish lifestyle. The moon and sun motifs are in reference to his brother. It’s the only thing atrophy genuinely feels bad about.

I don’t know if I said this already but dream thinks his brother is dead, not in a metaphorical way in a genuine way where he hasn’t seen him in hundreds of years and was told he was murdered. Atrophy is aware his brother probably believes this, but thinks it’s best for them to never meet as he’s changed so much that him dying is not too far off from what he is now. But dream is always at the back of his mind, which is why he has a lot of motifs.

I love this analysis aughsh

Thank you

[incurable-bookkl3pt0]

Honestly, a lot of people just be thirsty. Of course, there are the sympathetic villains, where you see what led them there, so I guess people just trauma bond or something. But for the most part, I'm pretty sure it's because the villain in question is hot and pretty privilege it pretty powerful.

I know I'm guilty of villain simping (MCU's Wanda Maximoff and Agatha Harkness), but I acknowledge the fact that they are villainous and that they do bad things. I like their characters, but I do not condone their actions and understand if people hate them.

At the end of the day, people are entitled to their opinions. It is so unbelievably easy to just keep scrolling (and block if necessary) when an opinion that you don't agree with shows up. So yeah, I don't get when ANY stans get offended when their favorite characters get hate. They're characters. It's not that deep. Fans need to start remembering that their opinions on a character aren't the only existing one, nor are they the only valid one.

Villain stans are always so shocked and dismayed that people dislike their favourite characters and that amuses me to no end like babe they’re a villain! Why are you surprised that fans hate them? When characters do bad things that hurt other characters people are gonna dislike them like what’s not clicking beloveds?

[tactical-jellyfish]

Watcher 1-1

Part 3!!

Warnings!: The 141 will be criminally stupid, fumblers, all of them. Death (canon-typical), Violence (canon-typical), loss of limb (no, I won't tell you who yet >:), but I will cover the symptoms as well as possible) They do get kissy, but no smut (that I'm writing, but it's very much implied).

Also, bonus note for the special day!!! HAPPY NEW YEAR!! I hope none of you are reading this on release because MAN you should be having a good time right now <3

You've never been trained so hard in your whole life.

Granted, yeah, Laswell warned you it would be brutal, but this is more than brutal, this is murder.

Four miles of running, then a full round of strength training, and there was still more to do.

Maybe the only good thing about this is that, as much as you're suffering, so is everyone else.

Soap tugged you up the final wall on the obstacle course, Kyle passed you his water bottle when yours ran empty (You would have proposed right then and there, if you'd only had a ring). Ghost did this weird blinking thing once, you're not sure what it was about, but it felt reassuring to you. Price just watched.

Now, you've worked with men before (shocker), but there is one trick of their you've never been able to shake.

The playful teasing they did to rile you up, talked down like they were just a little bit better. It always worked.

Johnny figured it out remarkably fast, early in your sparring match. Kyle was sparring Ghost. Price watched over your form like you would spontaneously combust.

"Issat really all ye've got, firecracker?"

You know he's trying to tease you, you know. Still, it lights a fire under your ass like no other, makes you duck under his swing and meet it with a jab to the gut.

Johnny's a big man. That's no issue, really, but the way he stands is, rooted to the floor like a tree, too stable to just swing for the legs.

But, fortune does favor the bold.

"C'mon, rooks, let me see all that skill Laswell talked about-"

Maybe that's why, as you circle around him one more time, instead of playing it safe, chipping at his stamina until he's too tired to really fight you off, you load all your strength into your legs and launch your body into Johnny's.

It sends the pair of you crashing to the mats, and before the Scot can think any better, you're on top of him and snarling down at his stupid, mohawked face as you gather his wrists into your hands, knowing damn well the leather of your gloves is digging into tanned, sweaty skin.

"Maybe you'd still be up if you knew how to shut that big mouth of yours, MacTavish."

You don't know who's speaking, but, in that moment, you're not fully sure it's you.

It's met with a hard buck of Johnny's hips, his feet flat on the mat as he tried to dislodge you. Cheap trick, not enough to catch you off your guard.

Maybe you're some sort of inept, but you don't see the way the tips of his ears are turning a reddish color, or hear the way his breath catches in his throat like the inside of his esophagus is suddenly closing in on itself when you slam your hips back down over his, keeping him pinned to the mat in an act of sheer defiance.

"Stay down."

There is nothing more fun than being the one who calls the shots after a good spar, It's endlessly satisfying to lock your free hand around his throat, only barely squeeze down on either side.

Yeah, yeah, you've not actually strangling your co-worker, but to Johnny it must feel that way.

His breaths are ragged beneath your hand, tired to the point that he can't steady the ins and outs anymore. It makes your feral grin soften a little, to something more sympathetic.

He's also tired, you remember. He's also pretty new to this team, he's your peer now. With that thought, you don't press him for a clear submission or formal surrender, you spare his pride and stand, with his body between your legs, and offer your hand.

Johnny swallows, but he grins widely, and takes it into his own.

He's not wearing gloves, that's the single cursory note your brain makes before you realize that he's only inches away from you, smiling and looking at you with warmed, bright blue eyes, panting a little faster than before.

"Tha's... feck, yer better than I thought you'd be, Firecracker."

Johnny says it differently this time, like it's your title now, but that thought is cut by him quickly stepping away, saying a couple words to Ghost, and getting a curt nod in turn before he scurries off to where you think the bathrooms are.

Before you really have the time to question that, Kyle is at your side, offering a playful smile.

"He's right, you know. Bold, but not bad." A stupidly pretty London accent rings into your ears, makes you tense for a second before realizing who's behind you.

Maybe this is the first time you've looked at Kyle this close, but you think you know why he doesn't talk as much as Johnny.

It would be unfair to the competition.

That thought makes you shake your head, try to clear the rancid thought from your skull. Co-workers. You're gonna watch this guy kill people, don't get hot and bothered about it.

"You think so?"

"Mhm. Always good to see someone get a little gnarly. Though Soap appreciates it much more than I do, I'm sure."

It's that moment that you recognize Kyle is teasing you, when he playfully pats your shoulder with a warm hand, shuffles just a tad closer to your side and watches as a smile breaks across your face.

That's the moment when Price nods, but you don't see it. Kyle doesn't either.

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[peppermintquartz]

Tan stretches out his legs and Street sits besides him. "For real?"

"For real."

"Wow." Street drinks from his bottle and then angles his body to stare at his best friend. "For real real?"

Tan rolls his eyes. "Yes. Deacon and Annie are getting a divorce."

"Wow. But... Why? He loves his family. He thinks the world of Annie."

Shrugging, Tan says, "I tried bringing it up but he just says, quote, it's complicated, unquote. Hondo isn't talking either though I'm sure that he knows why."

Shaking his head, Street wipes the sweat off his neck. "Man. I always figured Deacon to, y'know, be the guy to have it together. Wife, four kids, nice place, cool job."

"And now he has three of the four." Tan rolls his right shoulder to loosen it. "From what I heard, it's going pretty smoothly. Neither of them want it drawn out and they definitely don't want the kids caught in the middle."

The two of them share a moment of commiseration with the absent Deacon. Then a car pulls up outside the basketball court and Chris comes out, bearing three smoothies.

"Hey guys," she calls out. Street jumps to his feet and runs over, kissing his fiancee on the cheek and taking two of the smoothies from her. She gives Tan a quick hug too, heedless of his sweaty state. "Hey, Tan. I heard from Luca that Deacon and Annie are splitting up?"

"We were just talking about it," Street says after the first mouthful of his avocado pineapple smoothie. "Ooh, babe, this is delish. Is it from the-"

"Yeah, that one down by the bridge."

"Niiiice."

Tan thanks her for the smoothie and says, "Only Deac and Hondo know the details. But everyone is buzzing about it."

"Annie's practically an institution in SWAT," Street points out.

Chris frowns. "I wonder if that's to do with... Hmmm."

Both her fiancé and Tan perk up. "Wait. You know something?"

"I don't know anything, I just have some suspicions, but that's not my secret to tell," Chris says with a warning tilt of her head. The guys subside. She asks, "So where's Deacon staying now? With Hondo?"

"Nah. They come in at different times," says Tan. "Probably with a friend. I doubt he'll stay in the house with Annie and the kids."

Street makes a sympathetic grimace. "Man, if Annie has to bear the mortgage of the house..."

"Deac won't leave her to flounder, don't worry," says Chris. "They're probably gonna sell the place. And Matthew and Lila are old enough to help with Samuel and Victoria."

Tan nudges her. "You're Victoria's godmother, you could visit and ask?"

She wrinkles her nose. "Annie and I aren't that sort of friends though. I mean, we're not unfriendly, but we're not exchanging messages and all that." Street rubs her back in understanding.

"I know it's a private matter and everything but man, I'm just dying of curiosity," Tan complains. He glances at Street. "Was that how it was for you when I was divorcing Bonnie? No, y'all already know why." He suddenly straightens from his slouch. "Did Annie cheat?"

"She... doesn't look the type," Street offers. "And Deac loves her. Remember when she had that brain tumor? Deac would've offered up his own life for hers."

"Deacon isn't the sort to stray either," Tan argues. "He always been about family."

Keeping her face impassive, Chris sips her smoothie as the gears in her head spin. Finally, she says, "Maybe they just don't see a future together."

"After almost twenty years? Come on, Chris."

"Tan's got a point."

"Maybe they found out something that changed the way they viewed themselves and their marriage. People change all the time," Chris responds. Finishing the rest of her smoothie with a slurp, she gets to her feet. "Alright. Shower and dinner at our place, Tan?"

"Only if Street isn't cooking," Tan says, grinning and dodging the towel snapped at him.

"You should be so lucky!" With a little jog, Street catches up to Chris and drapes his arm over her shoulders.

She takes the hand on her left shoulder and squeezes. The only question on her mind is, Who's the guy Deacon's fallen for?