#this doesn't mean I want suicidal people to die

[silverthewerewolf]

Just say you want uk trans folk to lie down and die so you can keep on loving your shithole series rather than have even the smallest amount of care and respect for us and yes you people are a danger constantly putting your HP crap in spaces ment to be safe like Ik you don't care about her obviously but you do realise the same woman you called disgusting for rightfully taking issue with your stance of 'fuck you I don't care if you die I want to force a queer narrative into my shitty book series and pretend its helping' has been suicidal since the court ruling of course you don't cos you and your ilk don't care about us do you honestly pathetic to still cling to something that represents hate of us so hard or is it cos we're British does she deserve to die cos she had the misfortune to be born here do I? Genuinely asking cos it honestly confuses me how you people can continue to help keep alive a franchise that literally like demonstrably funds our hate and murder without any self-awareness

And telling me to touch grass really are you five not that it's at all relevant but I do daily doesn't change the material conditions of reality where Joanne is using her wealth to fund our deaths and using the continued popularity of the franchise to keep making money on it to you guessed it FUND OUR DEATHS

Honestly, tell me your usamerican without telling me you're usamerican that exceptionalism yall are on is a hell of a drug but hey nobody else matters as long as your happy right?

I mean gods damn you're somewhat aware of the harm that's been done. You literally mentioned the court ruling yourself but somehow failed to extrapolate and understand the actual scale of the harm done or have you and determined that us trannies on terf island don't matter

Love the projection btw like do you just feel threatened by being called out or do you actually see insults and death threats in my previous reblog

Also, I would really recommend looking up the concept of false equivalence. You've fallen into that trap a few times hun

"I care more about a book series than real human lives" =/= I want to have human rights feel viscerally ill that there are people that should understand that instead gleefully supporting the continued erosion of them

And before you say it not giving money directly is the bare minimum as long as the vile cunts works remain popular she'll keep getting money for them do you think she got her hbo series by magic obviously not she got it cos the ip is still popular enough to get money thrown at it

As a trans person, I am never, ever, ever giving up Harry Potter. And our fandom isn't going anywhere. Fucking deal with it.

Around this time last year, when JKR made some stupid comment (totally forgetting which one, there's just been so many at this point), I wrote a defense of Harry Potter fans' decision to remain in the fandom that essentially boiled down to this: giving up this fandom means giving up our people. In the wake of JKR's horrendous role in the anti-scientific UK Supreme Court ruling conflating sex with gender, this sentiment remains exactly the same.

I don't begrudge any HP fan who can no longer engage with JKR's IP due to this vile development. But I remain loud and proud in my support of the ✨community✨ that Harry Potter has brought together. As I mentioned in my last post, this community is not only full of the funniest, nicest, cleverest, and most creative people I've ever met in my life, but it is also the most diverse I have ever been a part of — and as an extrovert and community organizer who has lived in four different countries and speaks three languages, I have met a shit ton of people and been a part of lots of communities, significantly more than the average person. You are out of your mind if you think I am going to turn my back on the community that has been so critical to my survival as a queer, brown, neurodivergent, depressed, burnt out, poor Muslim femme in this capitalist, fascist hellscape. Day in and day out, my friends and I are pushing forward some of the most powerful narratives about queer, trans, and colonial liberation that society has to offer, which will have ripple effects on media and pop culture in the time to come (as is the nature of fandom). Nothing JKR can do or say will take that away from us. Nothing.

So to everyone who wants to claim that we're being transphobic for FREELY engaging with JKR's IP and doing things with it that would make her combust — that we're transphobic for wanting to keep this beautiful, generous community in tact — I not so kindly ask you to fuck off and leave us the fuck alone. You resist your way, and we will continue to resist in ours.

[keeperofthebees]

not sure if i ever posted my psychoanalysis of Lilo on here but here we go.

Lilo is neurodivergent. She might have autism, she might have OCD, she ABSOLUTELY has PTSD. These all have very many overlapping symptoms, so it's easy to get them mixed up.

Lilo rarely brings up her parents after they die, only to protect stitch. "Dad said ohana means family." She tells stitch about what happened to her parents before he leaves. She doesn't talk about her mom until she's brought up, and compares herself to her.

Lilo feeds Pudge, and that Used to be for fun. When she forgot to feed Pudge, her parents died. She decided therefore that Pudge controls the weather, and creates intricate rituals to make sure she does it Correctly. The harder the ritual, the more effort she has to put into it. If the weather gets bad again, it's easy for her to say she must have messed up the ritual with the wrong bread or the wrong filling. Maybe Pudge doesn't like peanut butter anymore. She's taking control of the only thing she can.

She's also EXTREMELY morbid for a girl her age. I know everyone says she's just like them for real, but there's a difference between playing pretend that you're dying and telling your sister to leave you alone to die. Some kids play dead because it's a concept they can't understand and they use that to figure it out. Lilo KNOWS what death is. She experienced the death of the two most important people in her young life. She's well aware of death. She mentions Picasso's blue period, his time of severe suicidal depression. She says that that's what her painting is. This is worrisome. She knows Picasso's blue period, words like abomination, asks Bubbles if he ever killed anyone and tells Nani to leave her to die. I know some of you think that's relatively normal for a little girl, but it is not, not the way she behaves.

She makes a doll, and claims that she's sad because she only has a few more [enter time period] before she dies. Why would she make this doll have such a tragic story? Well, that's what she knows. People die. It happens. Of course she's sad, but if it's everywhere, she can be less sad about it. Her doll is going to die.

She's also well aware of pain, which is why she's so violent. She doesn't understand that people don't have to forgive you when you're mean and violent, because her sister ALWAYS forgives her, and is sometimes mean in return. This is family. It's not her parents, but this is how it is now. She's mean to Nani, and Nani is mean back, and then they eat dinner. She's mean to her friends, and they're mean to her, but they don't let her play dolls so they need to be punished. Stitch is mean to her, and she desperately tries to prove that he isn't that bad. She knows that she shouldn't be so violent, so mean, but she doesn't know how not to, and she knows that her behavior is part of the reason she might get taken away.

Lilo projects heavily onto Stitch. She likes him because he's a weird little freak, but he's also HER. he's alone. He has one person who wants him, who cares. One person who gives him chance after chance and tries to get him to be good. If she can prove that Stitch can be good, then she can be good. She can get better, and not be such a burden to Nani. If Lilo can keep Stitch, then Nani can keep Lilo.

Lilo wants to stay with Nani, but she can't stop being the way she is. She can't stop screaming, and being violent, and running away and nor doing what she's told. She has very little emotional regulation due to the trauma she's endured, and she sees that in Stitch. She can teach him to control himself. She can be good. She can stay here with her one and only sister, all she has left. She begs Nani to like her more than she would a rabbit. I'm gonna cry

[nightingale-prompts]

Danny lives in a horror movie-DC x DP prompt

Based on my favorite book series "tales from the gas station"

It's not every day that a mission requires the league to travel to middle America in a bid to obtain a highly cursed artifact but it certainly is today.

Locating the Seal of Silent Ashes was a task usually given to Justice League Dark but Constantine was currently busy. So that meant it was left to the poster boys to get this done. They dressed in civilian attire to investigate the last location of the seal starting with the first building on the edge of town. A small dusty gas station near the woods.

The inside had an awful smell, like death and cleaning fluid. The lights gave off a greenish-blue tint. Rats could be seen out of the corner of your eyes. Most of the chips were offbrand and crappy.

Behind the counter was the teenage boy chewing gum. He looked up at the group before going back to reading his book. He had clearly seen better days but didn't show signs of caring about the state of his hair or bags under his eyes. He drank his coffee.

The air felt off.

"Hey kiddo, do you mind giving us directions?" Clark started.

The kid narrowed his eyes as he popped his gum.

"You're not from here. That or you're from that cult in the woods. Listen I'm not joining. Seriously, cosmic nihilism and fatalism sounds doomed. Hey wait-" the teen checked his notes " No, the cult killed themselves in that mass suicide 2 weeks ago. I forgot, sorry."

The teen didn't say anything else as he went back to his book.

The horrified look of the adults shared was almost hilarious. At least to the teen if he looked up.

"Oh, and stay out of the woods. I don't want the police to come back and ask about who saw you last. Seriously if whatever is in there tears you apart I won't feel bad. I put those signs out forever ago and if I get one more girl covered in blood running in here screaming about her dead friends I'll get a headache." The teen shrugged turning the page.

"What do you mean?! Why would-?! Who's killing people?!" Barry asked frantically as Bruce serched for more reports of missing people in the area.

"I don't know. Why would I know? If you want to go in the cursed forest go ahead. I mean that's how they all die. It isn't my job to stop you. My job is to sit here and watch this store." The teen huffed in annoyance.

Before anymore questions were asked the signal of the radio was disrupted and a demonic howl screeched through the radio.

"God damnit. That cunt is back. Stay here." The teen growled as he grabbed his bat from under the counter and walked out the back door. "String bean! Get off the fucking roof you bastard! You know that radio is all I have here!"

A chattering laugh like a death rattle was heard and the sound of 2 sets of feet was heard on the roof then they lept down.

"Come here so I can beat you to death!" The teen ran around the building towards the front of the gas station chasing-what the fuck is that!

It was like a human that was twisted to crabwalk on all fours backwards. Its face was contorted into a black stretched-out smile with no teeth. It had no eyes just black sockets. All its limbs were stretched out to an extra meter in length. It was a skinwalker of some kind with chalk-white skin. It was skittering away from the teen who was swinging his bat at its head.

"Stop running! I told you before what would happen if I found you fucking with me again!" The boy meant it as he finally landed a hit and began wacking it over and over it.

The skin walker screeched and tried to run for its life but couldn't.

After reducing the monster into a black puddle the black-stained teen came back inside to sit back down not paying anymore to the monster blood he was covered in.

"Sorry about that. Most of the freaks around here have learned to stay away from this place. That one is new and he doesn't listen. You'd think they'd learn but Sting Bean thinks he can torment me. Petty bastard." The teen sighed "anyways are going to buy anything or are you going to waste what oxygen we get in here with this shitty ventilation.

Diana couldn't help but admire the boldness of the boy. He had no hesitation or fear against the beasts of this area even if was crude.

"Does Constantine have a cousin or something? Just a more angry one" Barry whispered to Hal.

[sunderwight]

Shen Yuan strikes me as someone who doesn't know how to live very well.

I don't mean that he doesn't know how to have a good time or celebrate life. I mean he is always thinking about his death, evading death, or how he's going to die, and planning most of his life around it. He does this like it's a habit. He avoids thinking about his impact on others and he tends to see more meaning in the "good" ways that he could die (and threat in the "bad" ways he could die) than in what he has to offer by living.

But he doesn't want to die. He's not particularly suicidal. He has a healthy survival instinct, not just a reflex but in terms of the big picture as well. He doesn't fantasize about his death, or about ceasing to exist.

He just seems really accustomed to framing everything about his life around his mortality with a degree of immediacy and concern that most young people don't usually have unless they are suicidal.

Hence the "oh yeah he almost certainly had a terminal illness or something near to that in his first life" vibes.

[lover-of-mine]

I don't understand the Buck wobbifying for real. Buck is such a fascinating character while lost in his own mess. He will die for the people he loves but he is also always ready to assume everyone will leave him the first chance they get no matter what they say. He feels big emotions loudly and proudly but never lets himself process what they actually mean. He fakes intimacy and struggles to understand why that doesn't feel real. He gets lost on how something is making him feel and forgets to consider the fact that people actually care about him and worry when he acts like that. He refuses to think things through so much that people think he is reckless when he's actually just impulsive and reactive. His body is just another tool on a dangerous level that makes him borderline suicidal. He gets genuinely surprised that that many people were affected by the fact that he temporarily died. He clings to anything that makes him feel the slightest alive. He lingers long after something stops serving him because he desperately wants to feel like it did when it was good. He loves in grand gestures and in the way that leaves claw marks on everything he touches. He was born to save someone and dedicated his life to saving lives even before he knew the truth. He is chatty and rambling and actually quite knowledgeable about stuff he likes but can't explain his feelings to save his life. He gets math powers and his reaction is to calculate exactly how much gas he would need to get to the station. He's great with kids but accidentally tells them Santa isn't real. He gets lost in the power if someone gives him a clipboard. He makes things about himself while trying to be selfless, like when he tried to fix an old man's love life to prove he wouldn't die alone, but he would jump in front of a bullet for a stranger. He might have ADHD. He feels empathy for a corpse but can't give himself grace. He overreacts, realizes he overreacted, and goes out of his way to own up. Evan Buckley is a beautiful disaster, stop erasing what makes him interesting.

[thefavouritelamb]

GOLDEN CURLS and your BLOOD-STAINED KNIFE

premise . . . you should be terrified, you should be fucking horrified. all the annoying bitches around you drop dead like flies and the masked hottie man in front of you is about to kill you. and, oh my god, it's that nerd from chem

( requested by anon ! )

CAST virgin!slasher slutty!final girl TAGS plot with porn, murder and attempted murder, mentions of attempted suicide, crack treated seriously, possessive behaviour, light obsessive behaviour, light knifeplay, light femdom/dominant reader, light submissive slasher, brief breeding kink, creampie, unsafe sex done by unsafe people

affiliated links ─── pinned inbox requests (closed for now)

death clings to your scent—everywhere, it knows where you are. it started small, seemingly a one-time thing. some old hag dies and everyone assumes it was from old age. it wasn't. god forbid, it wasn't. whispers echo through the hallway and doesn't leave your ears; it was a murder. who the hell gave a shit though, right? you didn't. you couldn't care when that hag refused to give you the mark you deserved. fuck her.

then, mechanically, it comes after one another. you're starting to think of moving, really. like flies, your contact list fills with dead bodies. literally. name after name, vague description after just another number, the men you've slept with are all fucking dying. if you were superstitious, you'd think this was karma. yet, you're not. you're realistic. you know someone is haunting your trail and they aren't fucking stopping.

the world stops for a moment. the only thing you can hear is that repetitive bounce of some... fucking tennis ball or something. the house is dreary, the silence occasionally stabbed with the thrumming of the ball bouncing around. your heart pounds against your chest. you can't feel your fingers though they tightly wrap around the handle of the kitchen knife. you've been sensing you were next for a while. you just wish that it didn't end like this when you're half naked, a nameless man dead on the floor of your bedroom, and pussy out in the fucking cold.

it's getting closer. your hands are grasped in prayer as you pull it close to your chest. when the pounding stops, you know he's there.

quickly, you turn to face the man in the doorway. you raise your hand to stab yet he halts you by your wrist. fuck. all your anger and frustration bubbles into a punch but it comes out fruitless. his fist hammer to your ribs. you're promptly pushed down; weak, hurting, and pathetic. this was not how you wanted to die. the man towers over you as he drags you by the hair—a string of whines fall from your lips as you struggle out of his grasp.

"get the fuck off me, you sicko!" you scream, the sting at your scalp more painful than a knife stab. you think so, anyways. "i won't fucking report your ass just please! leave me the fuck alone!"

if he's been operating systematically, killing off your contact lists one by one, you just knew that telling him off wouldn't stop him. still, he drops you on the floor. you find yourself on your back, staring wide-eyed as the mask looks into your eyes. he has no eyes, not really. he has one mouth, a grin so wild. his entire body is cloaked and with it soaked in blood—you were too. both of you were bathed in the blood of some bloke you didn't even remember the name of. you hoped, just a little, you get to have one good fuck before you died.

"do you like pain?" he says your name, his voice unnatural and a deep monotone. "i know you do." fucking pervert, watching you getting your masochistic streak on. "you like inflicting them more than you receive them, though. i know you do."

"i don't know what you mean," your voice trembles. he slowly squats down to your level, his bloody gloved hands making a print on your cheeks. "j-just..." his knife kisses your jaw, "if i did something or i said something to you—... i'm fucking stupid. you can ruin my life however you want just let me live! wouldn't that be better? let me live with my own mistakes?"

his laugh comes out a growl through the voice changer. it's animalistic. "you have been living with your mistakes," he tells you, "everyday, every man you bring home. every single one of them is a man who doesn't even care for you. they're a mistake. you've lived far long enough with them, haven't you? i'm here to finally—" the edge of the blade traces a line on the bottom of your jaw, leaving a heated pain behind—"dissolve you from your past."

before you try to reason with him, he grips his mask. the white sullen face is pulled upwards revealing—revealing...?

him? "you?" this feels like a sudden joke. "no... oh my god, no fucking way."

you want to laugh; hat was, of course, your attempted reaction before you felt the blade go deeper in your skin. fucking ouch. the man above you is none other than that nerd in your chem class. you remember months ago how you laughed because he continuously tried to flirt with you. his attempts all but adorable with his soft face and thick glasses. it was endearing back then. you almost slept with him just because you thought he was cute.

but now? holy fuck. now, it's different. you almost couldn't tell they were the same person if not the mole on his lips, a gentle kiss from the gods that turned his mouth a shade of pink. the soft cheeks have slimmed into a distinguished jawline. strands of hair curl at the top of his head, almost shielding his watercolour eyes beneath those stupid glasses. you can't believe it. that fucking nerd, after disappearing for months, came back to do a killing spree all because... you didn't sleep with him?

"you embarassed me," he says, his voice almost whiny. "do you know how hard it was for me to go around school? everyone picked on me because you said that i was... i was a good for nothing fucking virgin! you made fun of me and the entir..."

it's odd how his words dulled into a muffled tone. from this angle, the cloak falls off a little and you see a glimpse of his collarbones. he lost weight, didn't he? that's slightly sad, you quite liked him in his softer body. you mourn it silently but you notice how his voice trembles into a deeper tone—had he gone through puberty again? jeez. he looks and sounds cute. you're smiling a little as your heart skips a beat from anything but fear.

"what the fuck are you doing?" he asks, snapping you out of your trance. before you could notice it yourself, your hands already moved down to your crotch. you haven't even came yet, not even a fake orgasm. you're only slightly bit shameful that you're touching yourself while he's having his villain monologue.

you hum, spreading your legs. "look, i feel a bit bad and all, but you really caught me at a bad time." you see his eyes trail to your cunt, seeing where your fingers disappear between your legs and how he gulps down in want. "come on, he didn't even have his cock out, baby. i was just barely taking off my panties when you interrupted us. and... you're kinda hot."

"you're sick." hah! the irony in that. "you want to fuck me now?" he laughs, gripping your hair again which makes you moan this time. you can see how his face loosens for a moment at the sound. "y-you only like me now because i lost weight! i starved myself from the bullying, and planning on how to fucking kill those people!"

"but baby, you're cute the way you are," you pout. "the only reason why i didn't fuck you was because you were just kinda weird at times. it was cute how you thought flower facts were going to get you pussy. and it was going to give you pussy, baby. but i can't risk my reputation if i fucked a cute nerd like you. can't give it all up just for one dick, you know?

"but now...?" you gasp, reeling in his attention with how two fingers slip in with ease. "you fucking killed those dickheads, baby. i fake orgasmed with most of them. i don't need a reputation when you've killed my audience."

his face drops into one of shock. you're not surprised that he's surprised. you're a bit surprised too—hah, you're kinda going delirious, maybe you are insane after all. despite the festering pain on your face, the stickiness of blood, you curl your fingers perfectly into your g-spot that has you moaning. you admire the way his eyes are trained onto you, his desires unfulfilled coming back again like a pest. he's tried to get over you but he hasn't. you're not letting him. absolutely fucking not.

his knife moves and you stick your tongue out, chasing the tip of it. you moan, looking into his eyes as you lay your tongue flat against the plane of the blade. "co' fu'h me?"

the words "come fuck me" were muffled but it seemed like he got the gist.

like how it was meant to be, you lay on stained bedsheets. it's a bit disgusting but you're too distracted with how cutely he's hurrying to undo his jeans. the cloak is pulled apart and you see how his hands struggle to undo his belt. silly boy. you reach out, hands expertly taking them off as he melts in your hold. it's thrown away along with your underwear, wherever it may be, as his pants are roughly pulled down by him.

you can't help but tease him, "feeling excited, baby?" he moans, hips grounding against you with a sticky fabric bordering you two. "so cute. did you cum in your boxers already? why's it all wet, baby boy?" he blushes, silent as you pick him apart knowingly. your hands make it inside his briefs and both of you moan at the contact—he's fucking wet, almost gushing. you would think he already came with the pre-cum leaking at the tip. despite that assumption, his cock is an angry red demanding warmth. your warmth.

"such a pretty little boy for me. take that off," he does so obediently. his fat cock—and it is fat, the length of it just nice but the thickness of it makes you drool in want—slaps against his stomach and makes a patch on his happy trail. "good boy, such a pretty and good boy for me.

you ask, "wanna shove it in?" and he moans, an echo of agreement and pleas falling from his mouth. he's pressing kisses against the open wound, a silent apology as he begs to be touched by you. the pain doesn't feel that bad now. it's numbed as his cockhead presses against your wet heat, wanting an entrance. you can only hear his ragged breathing as his tongue laps up the blood. your heart races against each other, the two of it throbbing with only both your flesh and bones separating them from mauling each other.

it's a miracle how he hasn't combusted yet. however, you hold onto that as he shoves the first inch inside. you've barely stretched yourself with two fingers and you almost wish you took more. the stretch of his cock punches a moan out of you, unwilling. the little thing above you whines and moans, "so good, so good, you feel so fucking good." it's the only thing he can muster in his brain as your cunt grasps him in a tight embrace, slick gushing around it as it tries to ease the slide.

"so good," he draws out in a tight moan. "i've never... you—i can't fucking believe it." you almost forgot the nerd was a virgin. "you feel so good around me. your pussy is so tight but it's, oh my god, it's opening up so nicely. so nicely for me."

your hands tangle itself in his hair after you pulled his hood down. "yeah, is it how you imagined? how does my pussy feel in comparison to your hand?" he's barely understandable with how fast he repeats so good so good so good. without prompting, one of his gloved fingers reach down to play with your clit. mostly the men need a signal or even a guide to do that. the leather is an odd feeling against such a sensitive area. still, it's not unwelcomed. you moan freely, your legs moving to wrap itself behind him. you want him to start moving. you need him to.

"come on," you goad, "need your fat cock inside me. you gotta start fucking me how you did in your fantasies, baby." then, that he does. he pushes inch by inch in, making you moan with the delightful and painful stretch. it's a feeling you're never going to tire yourself from. his cock splits you open more than anyone ever could. he presses it nice and deep, the tip kissing your g-spot gently. he doesn't move his hips, the vice around his cock too tight. he understands immediately and flicks your clit, a rapid motion that has you grinding against his hold.

that gets him to move. he starts to fuck his cock in and out of you. it's slow, pulling out until the tip is left just for him to fuck it deep again. his playful hand gets distracted but it's okay. every thrust you're groaning, your head having swivelled backwards from the pleasure. it's getting your legs to numb out. his balls slap against your ass and there's lewd sounds of skin slapping with echoing moans from the both of you. it's textbook erotic. you crave his cock just as much as he's craving your pussy.

"faster, come on." he's a show dog who's memorised all his cues. he moves his hips faster, opting for a more chaotic pace to chase both of your orgasms. he moves his hand again, a slower and more gentle act of circling in contrast to the impaling of his cock. your cunt is leaking in wet arousal as your breath is stolen from you. you can barely feel your legs when he's going ballistic. he mouths delightfully at your face now, just shy of kissing you.

you don't let his fantasy go to waste. eagerly, you tilt your head so your lips meet in unified desperation. he's moaning into the kiss. his pace stutters as he loses himself to the pleasure of being kissed. you're not surprised if you took all of his firsts tonight. in eager motions, he's chasing his orgasm orgasm. his first orgasm inside a cunt raw. you don't really mind that he's without a condom. you know you're safe when you've made everyone who tapped to wrap it up. this little killer of yours is, of course, a special exemption.

"'m gonna cum," he whines, dick hammering into your cunt. "gonna cum inside your pussy. gonna make it mine. gonna breed your pussy and you're gonna be all mine, all mine, all mine."

his free hand goes to grip your waist with one final thrust, both of you pulled into waves of orgasm. he's cumming inside of you and you mirror as you squirt all over him. the orgasm is intense as he gently plays with your clit, easing it with a slow lull. all of it becomes just a bit too much and you're writhing beneath him. he gets the point and moves away, carefully moving out of you.

in between the post haze, you feel the sheets move beneath you and you lay on the mattress. he wraps you in his arms and you're being embraced by the warmth of his body and the feel of his tongue against your lips. his kissing could be improved, you think with a laugh. that pulls him out of his cocoon-like touches. an insecure question of, "what are you laughing at?" has you smiling a little.

you answer him truthfully, "you fuck like a menace and kiss like a virgin. it's cute though, don't get me wrong." he blushes like a virgin too. you can't help but squish his cheeks. "gosh. you're adorable," the fog thins and you smell the corpse rotting at your feet, "and... you're a serial killer. how are you going to get rid of that dead fucking body?"

he looks down, almost surprised that there was a dead body there. "oh," he says, quite dumbly, "i actually don't know. i really did plan to kill you and then kill myself afterwards. i don't want to go to jail."

oh. o-fucking-kay.

you two sit up and you pull at your hair. the golden curls fall in front of your face in anger. "why the fuck would you go through all this just because you couldn't get some pussy?" he's about to answer you and you know he's going to repeat his monologue. "no, no. okay, i get it. i'm sorry. but seriously, i don't want to die and i don't want to go to jail because i fucked the murderer." this is bad. his knife is on the bed and you're thinking about just stabbing him.

wait, that could work. you grab the knife quickly and stab him. that immediately gets him to yelp, "what the actual fuck!?" he glares at the knife in his stomach then at you, "why would you do that?" he's looking at you like he's about to cry. you actually feel a little bit bad.

"sorry," you say, letting go. "i just needed to come up with a story." you pull your hair back, sitting cross-legged in front of him. "so, you were fucking me. he came here and tried to kill the both of us. he's all jealous that i was fucking other people—sounds familiar? yeah, well, this time, i kill him with this knife and now he's framed for the murder. assuming, of course, you don't have any incriminating evidence inside your house."

"no," he groans, hands hovering above the handle in wanting to get it out but knowing it should be stuck in. "your cameras are all dead too, by the way. it's been dead for a few days and no one saw the two of you when you sneaked inside from the back door. no one saw me too."

"great!" you promptly pull out the knife and he screams. "sorry! sorry! i just need to stab it inside of him and then call the cops." you put the knife right where he put it in earlier, right between his crotch. if this all goes well, you all go home without a worry. if it goes bad, well, you could always run away, right? you look at the killer bleeding, cock out and cum dribbling down his thighs and squirt on his stomach. you don't think both options are that bad.

"the costume?" he asks, looking down head to toe at himself. you're about to undress him gleefully and play dress-up with a dead body.

written and posted by thefavouritelamb

[glitter-stained]

Incredible how dc pushes the "Jason died because he was reckless" narrative to try and absolve Bruce of blame because, victim-blaming aside, that's worse, right? You understand how that's worse?

No matter how you interpret it, in Jason's post-crisis run, Bruce is gonna be partially responsible for Jason's death, because he was the one to offer him Robin in the first place in exchange for a good foster home (Batman 1940 #408), and because he had fucked up with Jason to the point he felt the need to run to a whole other continent in search for family (Batman 1940, a death in the family). Like, that part of responsibility, that remains no matter how you spin it, because regardless of why specifically Jason went in the warehouse, that's why he was in Ethiopia with the Robin suit in the first place.

But this aside, in canon? Jason goes in the warehouse because Sheila betrays him and he does what any hero, and many children, would do in his place: he wants to help Sheila, he listens to her, he trusts his mother. The people directly responsible for Jason's death, in canon, are Joker, Sheila, and crowd of goons that helped Joker and Sheila take Jason down in the warehouse. It's clear as day who the villains are in there and it doesn't add any stain on Bruce's ledger.

But according to that victim-blaming narrative that Alfred and Bruce (and others later on) spin in-story, and that dc spins in meta? Jason died because he was reckless. So it's Jason's fault right? Yes and no. I need to write a more detailed meta about the two types of recklessness and how confusing the two accidentally led to Starling writing a compelling narrative with Jason, but basically the important question here is why was Jason reckless. And Starlin answers us, in text, in a death in the family: Jason has been behaving abnormally recklessly recently, because he's suffering. Bruce tells us, straight up, that he suspects Jason to be suicidal. This isn't the first time Starlin's Batman says Jason is suicidal: even in Batman (1940) #416, Batman explains Jason's "reckless" behaviour to Dick as a symptom of being mentally unwell, and very clearly implies Jason already struggles with suicidal thoughts (which I maintain is the reason why Dick changed his mind on Jason so quickly and gave him his number with a "you can reach out to me, don't let a lack of communication become your achille heel" talk at the end of #416.)

And Bruce's POV mind be often biased, but we see, ourselves, Jason jump in front of bullets in aditf and it's like... As much as I'm not convinced with Bruce's random explanation for Jason's struggles in aditf, I do agree that he is being suicidal (and considering the stories that come right before this one, I completely understand why he would be.) So that's why Jason is reckless in aditf. It's not why he died, but if we listen to that victim-blaming narrative that claims his recklessness is indeed what killed him, doesn't that make Bruce more guilty? Because that means Bruce knew Jason was suicidal (literally jumping in front of bullets with apparently no consideration for his life) and left a fifteen years old active suicide risk alone in a completely foreign environment after having messed up very severely with him during the whole issue, and then he told him "do not go into that warehouse alone, there's a very dangerous guy who wants to kill you." In terms of responsibility, Bruce is actually very damn lucky Jason, like some impulsive suicidal teenagers his age would have, didn't think "oh well, I'll try my luck against the guy who wants to kill me alone and that way either I win and get reassured in my heroism and right to be alive, or I die and that saves me the trouble of buying rope and a step ladder!" Bruce took the Robin costume from Jason to protect him from this exact type of situation but didn't seem to realize the danger he was putting Jason in at that moment. And it's not just me saying that! I don't have the exact reference (I think it was in Gotham Knights?...to verify) Barbara, after finding out about Jason's death, literally tells Bruce that this is his fault and that she warned him Jason had issues.

Of course, all of this is moot point, because it's not why Jason went in the warehouse in the first place, but I can't help but feel baffled at the audacity of DC, who are so deep into their psychophobia, classism, general victim-blaming bullshit and ingrained stereotypical conception of the "troubled teen" that they don't realize that the revisionist interpretation of Jason's death they are defending is literally worse for Bruce. And I have to say, it certainly doesn't paint people trash-talking Jason and blaming him for his death to prop Tim up as "better" and "different" in a very good light either (especially since, if i'm not wrong, there's an arc in which Tim struggles with suicidal thoughts himself... especially since Tim's trauma happened after he became Robin and is, for the most part, a direct consequence of his heroism. Doesn't exactly paint the adults in Jason and Tim's life in a favourable light...)

Anyway, stop blaming Jason's death on his recklessness to absolve Bruce: you're only making it worse.

[literatureloverx]

Would BSD men sacrifice their true love for the sake of the world, or would they let the world burn?

I know you are on a break for a while, so feel free to reply any time you feel like replying. However, I do sincerely wish you are resting properly and eating well. You are being missed and appreciated, our dearest Snow White, who is as beautiful and graceful as her name!

-🛵🌻

Awww, you’re flattering me, 🛵🌻-anon! Thank you so much. ♥️ Please forgive me for keeping some of these brief without much explanation—I’m still unwell. 🥺♥️

Please keep in mind that my requests are actually closed! I made an exception because this one intrigued me.♥️

Would BSD men sacrifice their true love for the sake of the world, or would they let the world burn?

Featured characters: Fyodor Dostoevsky, Dazai Osamu, Nakahara Chuuya, Nikolai Gogol, Akutagawa Ryuunosuke.

BSD MEN x fem!reader

I know this might surprise many of you, but I believe FYODOR might actually be capable of sacrificing the world for his darling. While we don’t know much about him, we do know he is intensely focused on his singular goal and unwaveringly confident in it. However, love is unpredictable—it can make even the most logical person act irrationally. Fyodor, being a semi-canon yandere and canonically willing to gift his darling an entire country as a Valentine’s Day present, shows that he could prioritise his darling in unexpected ways.

Though he is detached and calculative, this doesn’t necessarily mean his obsession lies solely with his ideal world and not his darling. His perception of love likely wouldn’t be romantic or warm—after all, this is Fyodor we’re talking about—but that doesn’t make it any less consuming. If he were to sacrifice the world, it would likely appear to be a practical, impersonal decision on the surface, though it would stem from deeply personal feelings.

Of course, his darling would have to bear the burden of being his weakness, paying the price for making him burn the world down for her.

DAZAI doesn't see a reason to live and has a complicated inner moral compass —if he even has one at all. If he were to find another reason to live beyond his darling, he might let the world burn to protect that purpose. Otherwise, he would likely choose to sacrifice his darling along with himself, as he would want to die together with them.

In doing so, he would simultaneously honour Odasaku's dying wish to save innocent people and do good, while also fulfilling his own desire for a double suicide—albeit in a twisted and tragic way.

CHUUYA… my beloved Chuuya. He would sacrifice you for the sake of the world, but not without crying his heart out in the process. He’s someone who carries his heart on his sleeve, no matter how much he tries to mask it with his tough exterior. This decision wouldn’t just break him—it would shatter him. He’d be haunted by the memory of what he’d done, the sound of your voice, your smile, and the warmth you brought into his life.

After that, he would never be the same. Chuuya, with all his passion and fire, would lose a part of himself—his joy, his light, and perhaps even his will to keep going. Though he wouldn’t let the world burn for you, his sacrifice would scorch his soul in ways no one else could see. He would shoulder the weight of the decision, carrying it like an eternal wound, always hidden beneath his bravado.

I don’t believe he has it in him to let the entire world burn just to keep you. Chuuya’s sense of duty, his unwavering commitment to the people he cares for, and his understanding of the bigger picture wouldn’t allow him to prioritise one life over billions. But that doesn’t mean it wouldn’t destroy him. Deep down, he’s just a man with a heart far too big for the world he lives in.

Yet, in his own way (or maybe even literally), he would die the day you did. Perhaps he would let himself waste away, quietly fading from the world as he lost the only person who made it feel like home. Or perhaps he would go out in a blaze of fury, throwing himself into battles he knew he wouldn’t return from. Either way, the Chuuya you knew—the one who loved you with all his being—would be gone, leaving only a shadow of the man who once was.

NIKOLAI is an obsessive individual, deeply scarred by trauma, pain, and mental instability. He would undoubtedly let the world burn for his darling. Despite his philosophical outlook, which claims to encompass all of humanity, his approach is ultimately rooted in his own personal experiences and inner struggles. At the end of the day, everything is about him.

His so-called friendship with Fyodor is a prime example of this—he clings to it not because Fyodor is a fascinating person in his own right, but because he believes Fyodor is the only one who truly understands him. Not once have we seen Nikolai genuinely reflect on Fyodor’s goals or thoughts. Similarly, his darling would need to be someone who both understands and cherishes him, which would inevitably drive his romantic obsession with her.

There’s no chance Nikolai would sacrifice his darling for anything. However, after letting the world burn for her, would he ultimately kill her because she understands him better than even Fyodor? The possibility is disturbingly high.

Before meeting the ADA Dazai and Atsushi, AKUTAGAWA would likely have let the world burn for his darling without hesitation. His overwhelming need for validation, coupled with his devotion to those he holds dear, would drive him to extreme lengths, prioritising his personal attachments above all else. His harsh upbringing and struggles for survival have made him fiercely protective of those who matter to him, making it plausible that he would abandon the world for his darling’s sake.

However, after his experiences with Atsushi, Akutagawa would find himself in a moral dilemma. These encounters push him to question his black-and-white worldview, challenging him to consider the value of broader ideals like justice, compassion, and sacrifice for the greater good. His budding respect for Atsushi and his complex, unresolved feelings toward Dazai would weigh heavily on his conscience, creating an internal struggle.

While he may still feel a deep, almost obsessive desire to protect his darling at any cost, the lessons he’s learned would make him pause.

[strawberryhotlips]

༆THE LAST WOMAN ON EARTH ☢︎︎- ➪enhypen ot7 x fem reader

SYNOPSIS: Moving to South Korea at just 20 years old to study medicine was something that made you extremely proud. You had so many plans for the future, but it seems that fate doesn't want the same for you. Overnight, a virus that affects only women spreads throughout the world, causing all the women in the world to die in a matter of weeks. You were the only one left standing, the problem? Nobody knew, only you. As time passed, you managed to survive this post-apocalyptic world, where you had to hide from men because if someone knew that a woman still existed, everything would go to hell for you. You didn't expect seven strangers to break into your house in the middle of the night and you didn't expect what was going to happen next either.

Word count: 4360

Pairing: enhypen! x fem!reader

Genre: Suspense, death, dystopian, post-apocalyptic world, angst, too much drama, slow burn, smut as the chapters go by (mdni), fluff, Possessiveness, jealousy, fights, toxicity, lots of love (I know, it sounds contradictory) enhypen are complete losers for the reader in the best way, strangers to lovers and other things that may happen later

Warnings!⚠️: Death, loss of loved ones, use of weapons, depression and anxiety problems, mentions of suicide, survival, vulgar and sometimes offensive language, graphic descriptions of traumatic events. If you are sensitive, don't read it for your own good. Rader is a little mean to the boys in this chap, but she's just defending herself! everyone is of legal age!! Heeseung is 26, Jay, Jake and Sunghoon are 25, Sunoo is 23, Jungwon is 22 and Ni-ki is 21.

Status: ongoing (16-01-2025 -)

Disclaimer: This is a work of pure fiction, everything came out of my head, the personality of the characters are not real and do not represent them in real life in any way, any resemblance to reality is purely coincidental. Everyone is of legal age in this universe. English is not my first language so you will probably find spelling mistakes.

Hii beautiful people!! I'm finally back with the second chap of this story! It took me longer than the first one, sorry for the delay! hope you enjoy it a lot! You would help me a lot by liking, reblogging and commenting! Without further ado, thank you very much and enjoy!

CHAPTER I: "Disaster"

CHAPTER II: "Loneliness"

more under the cut ☟︎︎︎

Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck... that sound definitely wasn't the rain....

Your senses were sharpened to the maximum again, your hand gripping your weapon tightly and securing it close to your body. Your heart and breathing seemed to be in a race to see which one was faster, but you could be sure that your heart was the winner, as you could literally feel it pounding in your ears. Your throat suddenly felt tight and dry, nerves and anxiety on edge, you tried to swallow to moisten it, but your attempts were futile. You could feel tears stinging your eyes from the desperation you felt.

"Holy shit..." your voice was barely a whisper as you tried to process what was happening. You tried to calm yourself and sharpen your hearing so you knew how many men you were up against. Your room suddenly seemed suffocating and tiny, you felt the bubbling of a panic attack in your chest, you felt like you were going to die, your mind kept telling you that your minutes were numbered. You started to shake as one shudder after another went through your body like lightning, it was desperate and terrifying. You quietly climbed down from your bed and approached the door of your room on tiptoe. You wanted to listen better, because despite your fear, dying was not an option, not after surviving for so long. Breathing shakily, you leaned your ear against the door of your room, trying to catch a sound. Fuck, you had no idea what to do, fear made your legs shake slightly.

Meanwhile, on the second floor, the intruders were breathing heavily and panting, a sign that they had been running. Their clothes were soaked from the heavy storm outside, so the floor was filled with small puddles of water and some mud "Fuck, that was close..." one of them said, trying to catch his breath, putting a hand on his chest, feeling the strong beating of his heart as he leaned against the front door, holding it shut.

How stupid you were. In the midst of crying for your mother, you'd forgotten the most important thing: securing the fucking front door of your house.

"It was all Jake and Ni-ki's fault, we almost got caught by the police!" another voice shouted, pointing at the named ones who looked at him with a mixture of indignation and disbelief, while the first boy who had spoken looked at him with wide eyes, signaling him to shut up.

"Excuse me? no no, no way, it's not our fault, no one forced you to come with us Jay..." another of the voices said with a distinctive accent, his words tinged with contempt "And try not to scream, the police might still be around.." Jay frowned and approached this one with indignant steps "Don't be an idiot Jake, we can't let you go off alone in the middle of the night, you know crime has risen too much in the last few years, there's a reason the government declared a curfew after midnight, fuck..." his voice sounded frustrated as he looked at him seriously. "'You're a grown man, you should have a little more conscience, you both could have been killed..." he said this time with more seriousness and concern, scolding him firmly in a whisper. The weight of his words hung in the air.

Definitely none of them wanted to die, let alone go to jail, Jay was right, they couldn't just leave in the middle of the night and put themselves in danger and worry the rest of the group. It was a miracle they had found this house, a few more minutes and the police would have caught them.

"Well, sorry, it was my idea Jay Hyung..." another deeper voice said as he scratched his neck a little embarrassed and looked at the elder "Anyway, we're all fine," he said this time with a little cheeky but guilty smile trying to break the tense moment.

A sigh was heard, followed by another clear voice. "It's okay Ni-ki, make sure you don't do it again please..." he asked firmly but at the same time calmly as he looked at the one named and also at Jake who nodded silently, feeling a little guilty, he had quite a bit of leadership in his voice. Ni-ki nodded, "Okay, Jungwon Hyung..." Ni-ki's deep voice hung in the cold air of the house as Jungwon sighed again.

The house was silent for a few seconds as the boys looked around and surveyed the place, ignoring the fact that they were freezing to death from the water that had fallen on them in the middle of winter. And it had occurred to Ni-ki that it would be fun to leave (escape) from where they lived at three in the morning, Jake saw him trying to leave and joined him on the pretext that he "couldn't let him go alone because it was too dangerous", which brought them all here.

Ni-ki was the youngest of the group, which of course made him the most rebellious, and someone like that always needed an accomplice, which was Jake most of the time, which led to both of them getting into trouble quite often.

"It's a nice house...strange that it's abandoned..." another voice, different from the others, a little softer, broke the silence, praising the architecture of the place, your place. And it was true, it was a huge house, with a modern vintage style. Another of the boys nodded in agreement as he shook his head a little, trying to get the water out of his hair, "Yeah, Sunoo's right...it's pretty nice for being abandoned..." The words hung heavy in the air as the boys looked at each other, seemingly searching for answers, there seemed to be an immediate understanding between them as the named one nodded and the seven began to explore the living room, their steps cautious in the new suspicion that someone already lived in the house. Even though it seemed empty, they had to make sure they were out of danger.

On the second floor, you had managed to identify seven voices from your room, where you were still trying to calm down. So they were being chased by the police for breaking the curfew, tsk...men. Your breathing was still fast, but as you listened to their conversations, you managed to calm down a bit, knowing that because of their actions, it wouldn't be very difficult to deal with them.......

or so you thought

You could hear them walking around your living room and decided that you needed to listen more closely, their voices were a little muffled by the distance. You were about to open your bedroom door slightly, but what sounded like something falling to the floor startled you slightly as your free hand instinctively grabbed the doorknob, as if holding on to it would somehow protect you from them.

"Shit..." cursed the voice of one of the guys whose name you hadn't heard yet, furrowing his brow slightly "Pfff...what an idiot, Heeseung Hyung..." Ni-ki said, letting out a laugh as he sneered at the older one, watching as he crashed into a nearby shelf, causing a ceramic jug to fall and shatter into several pieces on the floor.

Heeseung turned his head to look at Ni-ki with narrowed eyes, "Aish...hey, what a brat...i can't see..." mild annoyance ran through his dramatic voice as he defended himself and pointed at Ni-ki who was still laughing. The other five boys chuckled a little at the amusing situation between the oldest and the youngest of the group. They got along so well, you could hear a certain camaraderie in their voices, as if they had known each other forever "I mean, ....Ni-ki isn't wrong..." the other boy, whose name you didn't know yet, remarked with a slight sideways smile that showed his fangs a little longer than usual, a cute, not-so-usual attraction.

Heeseung looked at him without any amusement on his face, judging him with his eyes. They had this habit of teasing him, not that he really minded, but he was tired, hungry and soaking wet, not in a good mood "Really, Sunghoon, you too?" he shook his head in disapproval as Sunghoon shrugged his shoulders without saying anything else and let out a small chuckle. He was really stressed out too and fuck, the current situation had affected him a lot, he hadn't had pussy in over four fucking years and he fucked so often that he was really going crazy.

Not that he was a pervert (or maybe yes), but he excused himself by saying that "fucking relieved his stress and made him perform better in his daily life"

But he had never experienced falling in love, only one-night stands, just like the other guys. The hope that he could have pussy faded deeper and deeper in the back of his mind, and he resigned himself to settling for his own hand. But he refused to accept that idea, he still had some hope. He didn't just want to fuck, he wanted a woman he could love and who would love him, he wanted to be a good love and he also had a dream of being a father, something that obviously seemed unattainable for Heeseung, in fact it seemed unattainable for the seven men.

They really wanted to fall in love...

In fact, they were all stressed about the lack of pussy.... Even Jungwon and Ni-ki, who were still virgins and had never been able to bury their sad cocks in real pussy, were sexually frustrated. But for Heeseung, Jay, Jake, Sunghoon and Sunoo, the feeling of being trapped inside a pussy was like nothing else in the world and now they could only remember and even imagine because fuck, four years without sex, it was like being a virgin all over again.

But come on, their hearts needed to be stimulated as much as their cocks.

Jungwon cautiously approached the now non-existent jar on the ground, bowing slightly and examining it, "If someone was here, they would have heard us by now..." he mused with a calm expression. He straightened as he turned to look at the other boys, they were like his family, he had known them for many years and loved them like his brothers.

The only thing that illuminated the living room at the moment was the light from the occasional thunder light that came through the window like a horror movie. It was a huge place, enough for everyone to be comfortable "I think we can either spend the night here or keep the place, after all, the one we had was getting too small for the seven of us..." he looked at them, waiting for a sign of denial, but they all seemed to agree.

It wasn't a bad idea, after all. They were in the middle of the forest, far away from the city, where there was more crime by the way, and the place seemed quite cozy. Besides, if Jungwon said so, it was because it had to be. He always made sure that everyone felt comfortable, even though they often fought like siblings, which was sometimes funny, Jungwon always prioritized everyone's well-being.

"Well, we should look for the bathroom, clothes and blankets, I'm freezing...we could take a bath..." Sunoo spoke for the second time, articulating each of his words with his hands. The boys nodded. A hot shower sounded great after running through the forest in the rain, so much that their legs felt tired.

"Good idea, we should split up, go through the rest of the house and look for the things we need..." fuck no, if they went through the rest of the house they would definitely find you and that couldn't happen, they couldn't find you, so you had no choice but to find them before it was too late.

Sunghoon's voice was full of determination as he explained his idea to the others, who immediately agreed. But before they could take action, you beat them to it for your own good.

"I wouldn't do that if i were you..." Your voice finally echoed through the living room with newfound certainty, causing a sudden hush to fall over the place. Your gun was pressed against the large back of one of the seven boys, who was now undeniably tense, you could tell by the way the muscles in his back were contracting under his clothes. He was tall, blond, and seemed to have well-defined biceps.....

"No, idiot, this is not the time to think about biceps, concentrate" You mentally scolded yourself.

Instinctively, he raised both hands to let you know that he was not going to attack you. His hands were shaking slightly and he was completely stiff as he felt the cold metal of your gun against his back, which, in addition to your distinctly feminine voice, sent shivers down his spine.

From your vantage point, you could see the faces of the other six boys, pale and still as if they had seen a ghost. And no wonder, they must be more confused and shocked than ever. The torrential rain that pounded against the windows and roof was the only thing that filled the deadly silence. It was the first time you had seen people in years, your heart was beating fast in your chest and you couldn't tell if it was from fear or excitement...

or perhaps a mixture of both.

After what seemed like an eternity, one of them tried to move forward, his hair was a deep red, but quickly there was an instant click in your head as you pulled the safety off your gun, making him flinch in place, your survival instinct was at its peak "Take another fucking step and I'll blow your friend's head off..." your voice was cold as was the expression on your face, your breathing rapid, matching that of the guys in front of you who seemed more nervous than you.

Your eyes were still slightly red from crying earlier, and even though you were scared shitless inside, you didn't want to let it show, you didn't want them to notice your weakness. This time you leaned your gun against the back of the blond boy's neck, indicating that you meant business.

Fuck, they couldn't let something go unnoticed, something they thought didn't exist anymore and that they would never see again in their lives, suddenly the reality they lived in took a 180 degree turn when you appeared, you were a woman, fuck, you clearly were, and you stood in front of them and threatened to blow Sunghoon's head off with one shot. It all seemed like a lie, the last four years of their lives began to have an unbearable weight on their backs when they saw you. They began to think they were hallucinating and had to blink several times to process the information. Even so, their throats felt dry and their eyes couldn't take their eyes off you. Sunghoon began to feel impatient, yes, he was scared, but he also wanted to see you, so he gathered all his courage to speak

"M-Miss...we don't want to hurt you..." you idiot, he mentally cursed himself for stuttering slightly and scrunched up his face in an expression that clearly said 'I screwed up', he who never hesitated in front of any woman had just done it with you, which left his ego a little bruised, but he didn't care.

You clenched your jaw as you heard him speak, pressing the gun harder against his head, making him tense up even more, if that was possible, "I'm sorry, I'm sorry...really, we don't mean any har-..."

Pathetic, he begged pathetically, but a mixture of fear and emotion controlled him at that moment, he couldn't control it.

"Shut up...you talk too much for someone who is being targeted..." your voice was cutting and harsh, making it clear that there was no room for discussion in your words, making Sunghoon shut up immediately as he nodded slowly, almost imperceptibly.

You had to find a way to control the situation, no matter what. You grabbed the boy's soaked shirt from behind and pushed him down, "Get on your knees..." you ordered firmly and he obeyed immediately, kneeling on the ground, you don't have many options when you have a gun pointed at you, making it so that everyone could see you better now. You didn't mean to be so rude, but you couldn't trust them, not yet, "You too, idiots, what are you waiting for?"

Yes, maybe you were too harsh, but you had to guarantee your survival first and foremost.

With the seven men now kneeling on the floor in front of you, you sighed and thought about what to do next. You weren't going to kill them, you weren't that kind of person, even if it gave them a free hand to hurt you, you just weren't that kind of person. But letting them go wasn't an option either, what were you going to do, stay with them? you didn't know them, the most you knew was their names and from the way they looked, they were all around your age.

"Are you really a woman?" the voice of one of them broke through your cloud of thoughts. Oh God, you didn't think they were that stupid, he really just asked you that?

You raised your eyes to look at the boy who had spoken, your brow was clearly furrowed, he had some blue strands in his black hair "Jay, shut up for God's sake," Heeseung spoke softly, clearly scolding him, really, he couldn't believe his friend had asked that. But he didn't blame him, he was just as or even more stunned than Jay by your presence, which made him move slightly in his place, not wanting to alert you, he really couldn't believe his eyes either, actually none of them could.

While you thought intently without saying a word, your gun still rested on Sunghoon's head. You bit your lower lip, trying to think of a quick solution, but damn, this was clearly going to take a long time. A sigh left your lips, you were sleepy, your body was aching and your head was going a mile a second, which made your mental situation difficult as well as putting your thoughts in order. In addition, you couldn't see much because there was no light and everyone's eyes were on you, which inevitably made you a little nervous.

Meanwhile, the boys' minds were no better off than yours, still trying to process that you actually exist and are not a figment of their imagination.

Hell, they even wanted, no, they had to be in Sunghoon's place. Just knowing that you were a woman got them going, but what about your assertive dominance? The way you had brought Sunghoon, who was probably one of the strongest in the group, to his knees with a simple command from your lips was fucking attractive.

The tension in the air was thick, not only because they were threatened at gunpoint, but also because there was an undeniable sexual attraction and tension between you and them. It was impossible to control, something instantaneous that left them with their breath caught in their throats and their cocks already half hardened in their pants, including Sunghoon himself. They didn't want to look like dogs in heat or perverts, they didn't want to scare you and make you think badly of them, but it was something that was simply out of their hands.

The cold they had felt from being soaked earlier vanished at a ridiculous speed and was replaced by warmth. Their faces were slightly flushed and now that they knew you were real, they couldn't help but imagine a lot of situations in their twisted minds, but damn, besides being hard, you were beautiful, a temptation at a glance that made them clench their thighs as their erections went wild.

Sunghoon, who was closest to you, was the most affected, he could even smell your scent, so soft and delicate, the scent of a woman. He stopped himself from inhaling your precious scent with all his might, forgetting that the tip of a gun was pressed against his head.

Jungwon cleared his throat, trying to find his voice in your presence, which was quite strong, "Miss, please..don't hurt us... we can just go and..." a dry laugh came out of your throat as you looked at him with narrowed eyes, cutting off his words, "Sure, I'll let you go so you can shout that you found a woman all over Seoul..." Your words were clearly sarcastic, rejecting his suggestion outright, making Jungwon quickly shake his head in an attempt to contradict you, but your gaze was enough to make him stop trying.

"Then you'll have to let us stay here..." the rational sense of Heeseung had left his head when he dared to say those words with a tone of boldness and obviousness as he looked at you with slightly half-closed eyelids, the ghost of a smirk on his lips.

It infuriated you, how could he be so arrogant when you could literally kill him at any moment? You looked at him as you let go of Sunghoon and approached him with quickened steps. You grabbed his jaw with one of your hands and roughly lifted his face to look into his eyes while resting your gun on his forehead. Your eyes betrayed your anger, but he seemed too relaxed for his own good, "You better shut the fuck up, because if you don't..." the asshole didn't let you finish as he blatantly interrupted you, "If I don't, what?..." he dared you, not only with his voice, but also with his eyes.

How fucking dare he?

"You're not going to kill us..." he said, his fucking grin getting bigger and bigger, "if you wanted to, we'd all be dead by now from the moment you walked into this room, precious..."

Oh fuck, he couldn't be that fucking arrogant, but he was right, you wouldn't kill them and you hated that he could read you so easily without even knowing you.

You clenched your jaw, wanting to break his ridiculously attractive face, because that was one little detail you hadn't been able to overlook, they were all fucking attractive, but you couldn't afford to think about that when your top priority had to be keeping yourself safe.

You clenched his jaw with your hand, your fingers digging lightly into his skin, causing a small sigh to leave his lips, "You're right, i may not want to kill you...but I'll blow your fucking balls off if you keep spitting shit..." this time he didn't dare interrupt you, instead he seemed to be lost in limbo. His gaze was fixed on your lips as you spoke each word with furious determination....

Fuck, you had fire in you

The formula was simple: danger equals adrenaline, adrenaline equals thrill, and thrill equals arousal. There was no other way to explain why they enjoyed danger so much.

The others were waiting for the scene to unfold in front of them.

So you weren't going to kill them. A relief settled in their chests when they realized that you weren't a bad person, you were just defensive, which was completely normal when seven intruders enter your house in the middle of the night. Jungwon had quickly understood and realized that Heeseung had been the first to notice, that's why he dared to talk to you like that. Now the group was less tense, they trusted their oldest member, they knew that Heeseung wouldn't risk doing something he wasn't completely sure about.

"All right, no need for anyone to get hurt, miss..." Jungwon interrupted what seemed to be a dueling stare between Heeseung and you, his words a little more confident now that Heeseung had taken it upon himself to break through the layer of harsher tension, but still he was being cautious.

Your eyes didn't leave Heeseung's and you didn't take the gun away from his head either, but his words echoed in your head and honestly, you didn't have much of a choice. Curiosity bubbled in your chest, you wondered what to do, you had been alone too long, you remembered nights when you couldn't sleep because you were so scared. Maybe letting them stay was your best option, you knew you were the last woman on earth, you were sure that if you asked them to do something, they would do it without hesitation and maybe they could protect you. Bring you out of your state of loneliness, which seemed to grow with time.

The boys' knees were starting to hurt from kneeling for so long, but the tense situation in the living room was too tense for any of them to try to make a move. Everyone was waiting to see what would happen, including you.

A sigh escaped your lips when you realized that you would have no choice but to let them stay here, but if that was going to happen, it would be under your own rules. You didn't want to be alone anymore, which didn't mean that you were going to blindly trust them overnight, because trust was a luxury you could pay dearly for if you decided to put all your cards on the table.

You let go of Heeseung's face and slowly lowered your gun, your gaze, still quite hard, shifting from him to the other guys as you took your time to study their expressions.

"Alright..I'll let you all stay..." you finally declared and your words were an immediate comfort to the seven men in front of you, but before any of them could say anything you continued "But..." you fell silent for a few seconds, letting the anticipation fill the air "if any of you do anything stupid, i swear...

i will kill you..."

CHAPTER III: "Trust Issues"

taglist 🫶🏻: @strxwbloody @ch4c0nnenh4 @aussie-boys-wife @deobitifull @engeneheree @suhwife @elairah @merwdusa @d-dilemma @liafterhours @btxtenha @wonenonly @cara9065 @otterluver05 @imnotsaika @immelissaaa

[omgfangirlland]

Dude, Imagine a reader being isekaid in Gotham. Reader has a system which prevents them from dying so they're kinda immortal. What I mean is that reader can die but they'll get revived again and again. Of course.. Since it's Gotham, she gets killed on her first night. Imagine where there are certain things she gotta do to unlock some abilities but she doesn't know what or how to unlock it. A reader who was happy at being isekaid before she slowly realized the reality she was on now (happy character to gloomy and depressed reader). Imagine a reader who's slowly losing it as she dies for the 99th time.. How life slowly does in her eyes. Randomly thought of this as I was reading a quotev story of a Reader x record of Ragnarok. This sucks cause I wrote this at 3am with one eye closed. ➖👄👁 (me rn)

-🔱

OMG GO TO SLEEEP (I'll probably stay awake until 5 am so really, who am I to talk-)

Tried to keep this GN!Reader, but I may have slipped. This may be gruesome soooo fair warning from now: Dead dove do not eat, gore, blood, death, everyone is getting traumatized tbh, suicide mentioned, trying to make it funny but it gets dark quick, lots of shit like that

Some things before starting:

I've always liked the idea of Isekaid!Reader- add to that Immortal-but-not-really!Reader who remembers every death? Amazing angst.

Reader who is immortal in the sense that she regenerates, no matter how small the piece left is, she'll be back up and running by the next day, maybe the next week if the piece is really small- but you'll see her again! And like Deathstroke, the regeneration keeps her "in her prime" as well, so if she died young, like 16, she'd stop aging by 25-30(tbh this would prob be another layer to the trauma)

I imagine the way to level up is in a dead magical language, a forgotten dialect of some god, etc.

This could turn into a multi chaptered fic... This could be Romantic!Batfam... This could be Romantic!The Immortal Version!Wonder Woman... This could be Romantic!Ra's and Talia 😈 IT could be all three options 😈😈😈 It's def yandere/obsessive territory either way.

---

No matter how Reader actually died in real life, mugging gone wrong, the classic bus/truck moment, suicide, etc etc, it'll probably be brushed off as a dream in a dream once you realize you've woken up in Gotham.

So, of course Reader dies the first night. "Oh- it's just a dream, let me do crazy shit like going into rich people's places-"Yeah you end up in a hostage situation.

Now- you wanted to be sneaky, play vigilante for shits and giggles, you weren't as amused when you were eye to eye with a bomb.

Now, Batsy thinks everything is fine- he got everyone out, the area is evacuated, and everything can be rebuilt. And then he hears Oracle gasp, saying someone is face to face with the bomb. It's Jason all over again, from him running towards the building, to your shoulders slumping in defeat as the clock ticks zero, to Bruce being in utter shock as he tries to move on as the smell of burnt human flesh once again sticks to him, bringing back his sleepless nights and blank stare.

You weren't worried, thinking you'd just wake up and go to your normal life. But you wake up in pain as bones, veins, nerves, meat, and skin regrow, as the fabric that was melted into your skin is expelled, clear skin taking over. It was excruciating. It left you screaming and crying, your body shaking on the metal table. And it left the mortician who was about to work on you passed out on the floor.

When the old woman wakes up, the only evidence that she didn't hallucinate is the missing change of clothes, CCTV recordings showing you stumbling out of the building, barely able to walk, and a small smear of liquid gold.

Bruce's guilt was eating him. He's memorized your face at this point, every pixel, the way your shoulders dropped, to the way you resigned to your fate. And he starts to see you in random places, looking at him from over the street as he's swarmed by reporters, in the local cemetery, on Red Hood's territory. So he goes to the morgue.

When the bat comes knocking for any information on you, for any blood he can test to find out who you are, so Bruce Wayne can send some guilt money to your family, the woman pales, multiple prayers to different gods spewing out of her lips. Another employee, not quite as terrified but still shaken, tells him everything, even shows him the recording.

From everything, he'd have assumed a trauma-born meta-gene, but the liquid gold smear and the pure fact that you should have been dead, no discussion had, gave him pause. Maybe it was a Dark Justice League problem.

You've died so much, you stopped counting, what use was it anyway? You tried leaving Gotham, but every time something would happen, from almost getting decapitated, it was so weird to feel your neck sewing itself in place, to being run over, to being shot Bonnie and Clyde style. So much happened, and you remember it all. You remember the pain, the way your blood seeped through your wounds, the crack of your bones.

But you also remember waking up from imminent death, the red blood now golden and melting into the ground, the pain of everything mending, over and over again. You stopped trying, taking refuge in the safest territory you knew. You also stopped looking into reflections. You couldn't take what you saw, what you would hear if you stared long enough- letters and whispered words in a language you couldn't recognize, dark figures in the corner of your eye, hands clutching at you- it was too much, a never ending nightmare.

It didn't matter who you were in your past life, in Gotham, you are a nobody, and even so, the Bat and his birds found you quite quickly. Granted, you working for gangs and occasionally the Penguing wasn't exactly low profile, but no one else would hire you without needing some form of documents. Documents you no longer have. So you took to cleaning up The Lounge and turning a blind eye to everything that was happening, to the drugs, to the scream coming from the basement you weren't supposed to know existed, everything. The way Penguing pays, you'd play dumb for as long as he was alive, honestly. Soon enough, you'd be able to afford a house.

Of course- you were trying to avoid Batsy and whatever robin he currently had, what would you even say to him if you could catch a one-on-one moment? "I know everything about every version of you because I'm from another world, I found out I'm immortal, and need a sugar daddy."? Jail. Straight to Arkham. Nobody would believe you. But you were already on his radar, and when he emerged from the shadows of your small apartment, you understood why the goons were so afraid of him.

[d1gitalwitness]

Moiraine & Lan in The Wheel of Time

I am really enjoying the development of Moiraine and Lan's relationship in the third season of The Wheel of Time. Part of Moiraine is incapable of accepting that there are people who love and care for her fully and deeply - she bonded with Lan because she knew that he was strong enough to continue on without her.

She wants Lan to live, and she will hurt Lan in the most ruthless way if that means that he will live. This is who Moiraine is. Her cruelty to Lan in the books is extreme, and even unforgivable, but she loves him enough to do it just so that he may live. But this is changed in the series, which charts their dynamic with more gentleness and understanding of where Moiraine and Lan are coming from.

Before going to the eye of the world, Moiraine tells Lan that she likes Nynaeve. Unbeknownst to him, it was her way of saying that she wants him to move on, have a life, and be happy. It was a farewell before she breaks the bond and goes on a suicide mission; she does not want Lan to be collateral damage. She does not want Lan to die for her.

This is also why Moiraine was extremely cruel to Lan after believing she was stilled. She was completely exposed and violated when Ishamael shielded her and for the first time, she experienced the very real and very dangerous stakes of her mission. If Lan had been there, he would have died, and I think this truth scarred Moiraine so deeply that she was unable to face him, unable to face the life that she had brought him into when they bonded. The violence that she was inflicting on the few people she cares about was too much. Siuan and Moiraine were forced by fate to sacrifice their love and possibly their futures to find the Dragon Reborn. Lan still had a choice to save himself. But Moiraine didn't want to Lan to stay and she knew that he would. So she rips that choice out of him by leaving first - both in S1 and S2 - believing that he'd be better off without her.

They were never equals, because from Moiraine's perspective, Lan chose to be with her. He had zero stakes in the mission, at least not in the way she and Siuan did. This sacrifice and choice, in her eyes, made him braver than she ever would be. It is also the reason why she leaves him behind. Moiraine has never seen herself as anyone important - she is merely a spoke in the wheel, committed to justice - but here Lan was, choosing to be with her because he believed in her.

There is an incredible scene, in 2x07, when Lan tells Moiraine: "You have to trust somebody at some point. And if it's not going to be me, I thought it might at least be [Siuan]." Rosamund Pike is transcendent, as her ruthless facade transforms into something in-between sadness and tenderness. Lan is the only person in the whole world who truly understands what Siuan means to her. What Lan doesn't know, however, is that Moiraine cannot face Siuan because her failure means failing Siuan and their dreams of a happier future. This failure cut Moiraine deeper than simply not saving the world. By letting Ishamael out, she destroyed Lan's dreams to be with Nynaeve and Siuan's dreams to live by the river. She cannot face failing them. But she faces Lan eventually because he shows up for her and forces her to confront her mistakes and her guilt. Because that is what you do for the people you love - you show up over and again.

"We won't be here forever. We'll serve out our time and then we'll retire." // "Do you mean that?" // "Yes."

Fast forward to Season 3, when Lan and Moiraine have reconnected and Moiraine finally understands that Lan made a choice to be with her and she cannot take away that choice. He sacrificed his future, just like she did, for something and someone he believed in. They are on the same page now. Moiraine goes into the rings and realises that she will die, but this time, she doesn't isolate Lan. She tells him exactly what will happen, and trusts that he is able to handle it. Sometimes love is about being vulnerable and having faith that the other person will embrace these vulnerabilities. It is a beautiful development of their bond - Moiraine is still a guarded woman, but she is giving Lan a choice to leave if he wants to. Of course, he chooses to stay. So together they face the impossible.

Before her fight with Lanfear, Moiraine consults Lan, and they strategize how to defeat her. He might die in this fight, but this is his choice. She might die in this fight, and his grief might consume him, but this is his choice as much as it is hers. And it all comes down to choices in The Wheel of Time. Melindhra broke her dark oaths because she cannot bear to kill last living king of Malkier. Siuan chose to love Moiraine knowing that she may be executed and stilled for treason.

It is the ability to choose which gives our life meaning and for the first time, I think, Moiraine and Lan are making these choices together, ready to accept the tragedy that might come their way. When Moiraine was in the rings for days on end, Lan tells Egwene that she would have wanted him to stay. There is a tacit understanding from Lan that Moiraine would want him to live instead of going in after her when it wasn't necessary.

I also adore the little moments of levity in Season 3 between Moiraine and Lan, where Lan feels how lonely Moiraine has been, and encourages her to engage in a one-night stand with another woman. He's probably joking - he is fully aware that Moiraine's love for Siuan is total and abiding - but it adds layers to their friendship; she is allowed to be open about Siuan, and about her sexual desires. This is a side of her and him that we have not seen before, and it is remarkably tender. I think this season has been extremely well-thought out in continuing Moiraine and Lan's arc from the last season, and somehow manages to enrich their relationship even further.

[annabelle--cane]

do you think there are any flaws with interpreting jon’s statement dependence as an addiction metaphor, i.e. it’s closer to food and not something he could ever realistically stop or recover from? wondering because while i find the similarities to addiction with his need for statements interesting, it doesn’t quite seem fully comparable when it’s closer to his lifeblood. it’s like the type of vampires that’ll die without blood- that dependence isn’t something they can ever break. stopping would be a for-the-greater-good starvation suicide requiring the viewer to weigh the death of one person against the suffering of multiple people. which is interesting, but as withdrawal is horrific but survivable, and addiction doesn’t automatically have inflicting suffering on others as a prerequisite, i feel the metaphor falters a little bit there. idk i’d be interested in any thoughts you have on the subject

sniles so sneetly. I do have Thoughts about the subject.

(first, as a quick aside, this isn't super relevant to this ask, but: some types of withdrawal absolutely can be fatal, namely alcohol and benzodiazepine withdrawal. be super careful if you or someone you know wants to go off these substances after a period of frequent/regular use and do not quit cold turkey without medical supervision.)

you are correct that it is not a 1:1 direct allegory, but I think the thing to keep in mind is that the fairytale logic of tma runs exclusively on fear, distress, and worst-case-scenarios. for an example, depression also doesn't automatically have inflicting suffering on others as a prerequisite, but that is how martin's relationship to the lonely works; he cuts himself off and passively feeds his patron with the pain his loved ones feel as a result of not having him around. while that's not actually how depression works irl, hurting the people around you with your distance is both a fear that is likely to eat at you and a selfish impulse that you may have to actively resist when in the The Pits of an episode, and the lonely is a manifestation of that.

I think jon's dependence on statements works the same way, as a funhouse mirror reflection of all the fears and worst-case-scenarios one commonly experiences during addiction, namely that it's completely inescapable and that it turns you into a monster who is unrecognizable in comparison to your usual self. withdrawal won't actually kill you (most of the time!!! sometimes it can!!!), relapse isn't a forgone inevitable conclusion (and even if/when it happens that doesn't actually mean you're Doomed Forever), and using is not an inherent evil and it doesn't turn anyone into a soul-sucking monster, but those are all extremely common fears that addicts often have.

[the-s1lly-corner]

Hmmmmnnnn.... Looey x reader who does a lot of dark/self deprecative humor? Like the reader says they'll self terminate over the smallest inconvenience and generally makes jokes at their expense?

Looey x reader w/ self deprecating humor

Phone keeps autocorrecting looey to lovey I can't live laugh love right now

Notes: gn reader, toon reader, short post, written on mobile, he's genuinely worried about you, this one's kinda all over the place I am FIGHTING!! Demons (tummy ache and sleepy)

CWs: nothing specific or clear but there's definitely implied suicide related humor and stuff in that vein

The first few times before you really lean into the darker sides of your humor he at least gives you a laugh... a pity laugh, sure... but he knows the fear of telling a joke and no one laughs

Though one could argue that a pity laugh is worse than no laugh. Not to mention he may be encouraging you to be harsher to yourself... those pity laughs quickly die as you begin to spiral

You always had a... darker sense of humor... but since gardenview closed and the twisteds started appearing your 'jokes' started to get darker... only really aimed towards yourself, too

You... didn't actually mean it when you said you hoped youd get left behind or mauled... right...? Please tell him you did

He doesn't even know the best way to approach you, eventually he kind of just...

"Hey... are you okay...?"

In the elevator after pulling you to a corner. He doesn't fight as hard as he wants to to get an actual answer. There's too many people around and he knows that just asking about your wellbeing did something

He doesn't want to push it here

But the second you're both back up to safety he's going to trail you and attempt to coax a response out of you

He wants... to understand..

Even if you don't open up to him fully right there he wants to be there for you

He does try to lighten the mood with a joke or two of his own but they kind of.. die and trail off.. there's no real humor in his voice, and his attempt to calm and soothe only leaves an awkward air between you both

He's trying his best :(

[le-fruit-de-la-passion]

I keep seeing people worship Christian Linke for some shit he’s said and ignore the fact this man is antisemetic and heavily insensitive towards non white and straight characters HE IS NOT YOUR ALLY

I genuinely think people just don't know how much of a shitty person he is. Seriously, that dude was quite possibly the worst person to put in charge of a project like Arcane. Here are just some of things he's said that you should know of:

• Linke said the death of every character in Arcane was a direct result of their own actions : "Every single big beat in the end with our characters, whether it’s a death or not, is a consequence of their choices."

So, I'd like you to explain to me how Vander's death was his fault, because I don't quite remember him agreeing to becoming Warwick. Also, maybe having the three characters portrayed as suicidal in the show (Jinx, Viktor, and Jayce) all die, and go on to say it was just the consequences of their own actions... isn't a good message?

• Linke has declared Viktor as asexual on his own, with the sole purpose of discouraging JayVik shippers : "There is a love. I don't think it's romantic [...]. To me, Viktor was always asexual".

Now, the issue here isn't having an asexual character, its having chosen VIKTOR, one of the most important characters for disabled rep in animation and popular media, to be asexual. I've went on and on about how infantalizing that is to disabled/chronically ill fans, because we NEVER get to be perceived as sexual beings. Having a body that's visibly different from the norm, or limits on certain abilities, turns off people, makes them uncomfortable. That's why you just never see a sexually active or a sex positive disabled character on screen. That's why, in all his "sexy" skins in LoL, Viktor is given a six pack, has no visible marks of illness on his body (scars, fatigue lines), and has no medical brace or crutch.

Viktor was always intended to have a sexual swagger in season 1 ("this isnt my bedroom") and that was EXTREMELY important to a lot of us in the community. I've seen a very similar response from the asexual community as well, who feel like Linke is using their identity and experience as a shield from fan interractions he dislikes, and without actual care for what it means to the characters. Don't fall for rep that isn't actually meant to represent you.

• Linke has directly and openly compared the Zaun and Piltover conflict to the left and right in the United States, and put both sides on equal moral footing : "If you’re asking me whether we were inspired by two sides of one nation who are incapable of even talking to each other anymore at a certain point, yes."

So, I don't think I need to explain how bad this is. Remember that Piltover is the city of wealth and enforcers, and that they've gazed the district of Zaun, dumped chemicals around their water suplies, directed brutal and deadly repressions of civil uprising and protest, offered no financial support to the struggling communities of addicts, disabled people, and orphans, refused Zaun any implication or decisional seat in the city political life, AND THAT'S JUST ON TOP OF MY HEAD. Now, think about what that means with the USA politics comparison, and the idea that they should "just listen to each other". Yeah.

Now, if you know me a bit, you know I live in Canada, so maybe you think this doesn't affect me personally, or that it doesn't affect you because you live outside the US. To that, I want to tell you about a neighbour of mine, who lives on the street parallel to my house, and this truck he owns. The truck has a whole lot of fun stickers and flags on it: the quotes "TRUMP ARREST TRUDEAU" and "CANADIANS FOR TRUMP", the israeli flag, the confederate flag, christian crosses, the blue lives matter flag, and an anti BLM sticker. Now, I'm sure theres more cool things, I've just never gotten close enough to look at the smaller stickers and ornaments because, as a very openly bi arabic woman, I'm scared to death of that man. But maybe I should just hear him out, right?

Tldr, do not think that the state of american politics doesn’t affect the rest of the world.

• Linke has called the people of Zaun and specifically Silco "Svengali", which is an antisemitic name that implies Jewish people are crooks / dirty / thiefs / sexual degenerates. There's a great post on Tumblr that goes more into detail about this (https://www.tumblr.com/endearing-dalliance/769693230696677376/another-blow-against-arcane-anti-semitism?source=share). I'd just like to insist on how bad calling someone "svengali" is. His character was used in many pieces of propaganda in Nazi Germany to picture the "Evil Jew", and to dehumanize Jewish communities by portraying them as ressembling Satan (forked beard, can do unholy hypnosis, targets women...). Linke could have chosen ANY other term to talk about Zaunites, the oppressed community getting gazed by a police state, but he chose that one. That was not an unconscious decision.

I'm a firm believer that it is possible to separate art from artist/studio/company, and to appreciate something while still being aware the person behind it is not a great individual. However, if you're defending all the decisions made in season 2, these are things you HAVE to be aware of.

[ratlover256]

it has always been about escapism by the way. kittycorn can not distinguish the sour reality she lives in from the fiction she has. the moment kit is told "no"- straight to suicide baiting. it's this immense fearmongering she puts up that every fucking person i have seen come forward about their experience with her has brought it up. it is not surprising she placed herself in a situation full of "yes-men" who she feels she is most suited with, one full of people who also get off to the dangerous nature of playing with people and their feelings, claiming nobody has the same trauma because they don't cope as hysterically. and that's disappointing.

people who support kittycorn's actions: you are the problem. you think you're coping when you set yourself up for reminders. it's all about "oh but you're silencing trauma survivors" until the vast majority of trauma survivors call you out for straight up getting off to what has ruined them. and you think that coping makes everything okay. everyone knows themselves best, clearly everyone copes differently! get help. you live in such a world full of people who are too afraid to tell you shit, leaving you with an echo chamber full of enablers. the moment someone calls you out for it or pulls you out of that reality; you snap. your own parasocial relationship with a creator of the same old puppycorn you've came to know and love is shaping the way you are with your own sexually depraved and frustrated reality that you would rather ride or die than help someone surface the feeling of drowning in their guilt or what has happened to them. you are what enables future incidents, you are the downfall of future victims. you are not the solution. you are giving your trust in the person you felt an unhealthy connection to in the first place.

to kittycorn or anyone that needs to see it: escapism is hard to escape, but the first thing you have to accept is to stop high tailing oppression and being curious why it happens when it does. you've become succumbed in the way you live that it is essentially second nature for you. this therapist knows better than your therapist, cause this one said that they're okay with incest!

you cannot have one and the other without your interest in the one you succumb yourself in the most eating away and finding itself in the other.

you cannot say you wanted it to be private when you shouldn't have begun in the first place.

you'd rather eat dirt and humiliate yourself than accept that you are responsible for your actions. it doesn't matter what made you this way when you've applied such a hurt on others, you want a reason to stop feeling so guilty about what you do. being unusual seems like a way out, better than what those "antis" want, a life they think is normal and is better for me? pfft. fucking pathetic. i wanna hang out with a crowd of people i feel heard in. sure, they may enable and sexualize what i do, but it's as long as i am not denied and i am rewarded for what they find hot!

you've sunk yourself so deep in trying to find people that you think hear you that you are ignoring the people that do want to help. because you are actively trying to silence out everyone for the group of people you think have best selected you.

i'm disappointed in you, but that probably doesn't mean much, because the people you surround yourself with aren't.

and i want you to get better. but you have to put yourself in the face of change, and you have to surround yourself with people instead of listening to the same few that have never told you no

i'm upset that the situation and circumstance has hurt me this much. fuck you. nothing could ever make this okay.

[tuftastuff]

the inherit body horror of to be hero x - or when your life becomes a prison and the only way to freedom is death

Three episodes that we already got showed us how horrorish the trust system is. People's cognition of you affects not only your abilities, but how you look as well. It controls your *whole body*. You lose autonomy of your whole body. It's not just yours now - it's the body that's controlled by the masses.

FirmMan was not able to sleep properly, kneel, or do such a simple thing as using the toilet. How many things he had to give up on? He's a hero, yet he wouldn't even be able to help a kid that tripped over. To pick up something that he accidently dropped. His whole body was just reduced to standing. How frustrating that must be? How depressing? You can't even dress properly, you just need to be standing, you are reduced to nothing but a symbolic statue.

Moon also lost her freedom. The powers that were supposed to let her be free - she's got teleportation! She should be able to go wherever she desires! - became something that infinitely traps her with Nice. She can't leave not only because of her contract. Her power makes her trapped with him.

And Nice and Ling Lin. Body moving in a way that HAS to be perfect. All the time. Everything around you has to be perfect. Simple slouch is unacceptable. A drop of water that's not symmetrical? Gone. Always stuck in the endless loop of pursuing perfection. But the world isn't perfect! The world is messy and asymmetrical and chaotic, and so are bodies. How many bodily functions did they lose because of that? How frustrating it must be to always have the need to correct everything and you can't just stop it. You can't control it. You have to strive for perfection all the time.

And yet - their minds are still free. Moon doesn't fall in love with Nice, even though fans want them togheter. And, based on the episode two I think it's safe to say that Nice doesn't love her either - he's connected emotionally to Wreck, even though in the public eye they are enemies. FirmMan still had his basic needs and was aware, that he can't meet them. He suffered mentally because of that. It took a toll on him. And Lin Ling - the public believes that he is Nice. But he isn't and he knows he isn't and deep inside he's still Lin Ling. He needs to get it out, it's weighing on him.

They are trapped inside their own bodies. Their powers become their prisons. They can't leave on their own, they can't change it, they are stuck, with no knowledge for how long will it last. How devastating it must be, to not have the control over your own bodily autonomy? They are just puppets, with free minds. That's the true body horror.

And that is also why I think Nice committed suicide. I think it was a conscious, deliberate decision. There is one thing that was not taken from him (and all of the heroes, I'm assuming) and it's death.

You see, death has a symbolic meaning of freedom. Not only in literature, but in real life too many people think of death as the ultimate freedom. You might be dead, but you will be *free*. And that is the price that some are willing to pay.

Nices death was his escape from his prison - his own body. It was the only thing that they haven't yet taken from him. And he didn't even know how long did he have. What if the public started believing that he was immortal? That he was indestructible? He would be stuck eternally in this existential horror. His death was him desperately trying to be free. And he achieved that. His fall was actually awful. It wasn't a pretty death. He fell into the wall and only then on the ground; it was messy, it was traumatizing and it was, in every way, an opposite of perfection. He made his choice and he was finally free.

And, because of that, nor Moon nor FirmMan have to die in order to be free. For them freedom would also only come in the form of death. We see that in episode two, when Moon "dies" and thanks to that achieves her freedom (see, how death is linked to freedom further than only nices suicide). The haunting connection that Nice and Lin Ling have shapes how the future of heroes that interact with Lin Ling looks. Nice dies. But nor Moon nor FirmMan have to die, to achieve their freedom. Their freedom is achieved through Lin Ling. In a way Nices passing/passing his identity broke the cycle. Because while Lin Ling was not in the position to save Nice, he can make sure, and does (consciously or not), that it never happenes again.