#this is what I've gotten out of it so far

[white--moon]

He doesn't understand what Ichigo sees when he looks at him that makes him think so highly of Shiro. They clearly see something different. He sort of shrugs when Ichigo asks that clarifying question. He snorts when Ichigo says he could have been a kingpin. "That's 'cause my lane is very lucrative." His brows furrow slightly at the mention of his backstabbing crew. They're probably right; Shiro probably could take this further, make it bigger. But, "They clearly don't know where this all started. I've turned this into a pretty big operation in just a few years." Sure, the foundation was already there for him when he ended up stepping into Yhwach's place, but instead of running it into the ground or getting killed like all of Yhwach's business partners thought would happen, he's build on that foundation and outpaced said partners. And maybe offed a couple of the ones he didn't like. He wonders if Ichigo knows that. He wonders if Ichigo realizes Shiro never left behind his secondary function of body-maker and body-hider. So he's not a kingpin on the mainland, but so far those mainland kingpins haven't tried to step into his territory and there might be a reason for that. Or maybe he's just gotten lucky so far.

He has no trouble remembering the night Ichigo's talking about, nor the exact look on Ichigo's face after their scuffle, trying to mask his fear with hate and anger. He smirks. "It was a good look on you." He'd seen plenty of scared, angry people, but there was always something different about Ichigo. Ichigo saying he'd still like him even if he was washed up and no longer able to hold his own is weirdly touching. It feels a little like acceptance, like Ichigo can still like him and find him attractive despite the drugs. And he knows Ichigo's disappointed he's using again. That disappointment is a big source of shame for Shiro. But he snorts. "I can still fight just fine. I might go a little overboard sometimes, but I'm a lot more in control of my habits than I was the first time around."

The idea of having Ichigo mention something to Grimmjow only sounds like a good idea in the very first half second it enters his brain. After even a tiny bit of thought, it sounds like a disaster. "Maybe not, but I doubt you're gonna do any better on my behalf. He's probably gonna come for my head. What're you gonna do about that?"

The sweatshirt Ichigo grabs looks cozy and his very first thought is that he might borrow it, before he shoves the idea of being able to swap clothing with Ichigo at will out of his head. They're not partners anymore. He doesn't just have free access to whatever he wants. He nods, "Of course. It's in the back corner. You gotta get a key from the kid at the counter."

His brows go up slightly in a dry, unimpressed expression. What a helpful answer. But Ichigo does go on to explain better. He doesn't quite know what to think or how to respond. "You think too highly of me. What would I even do to the city?" He hadn't realized he wasn't ambitious, but he supposes he's not. He never really thought much about it, but just assumed it was normal. "I assumed you liked me because I was formidable." He can't picture Ichigo even noticing someone who isn't formidable in some way. He scoffs, "No."

That's fair. "Yeah, I get it." He's a little short while he says it because he doesn't want to get into it. He's had an emotional rollercoaster already today and he's pretty sick of it. He doesn't want to sit here and hear about how Ichigo and Grimmjow think he's a horrible person. He really should just drop by, but he always kind of wonders if he's going to get shanked and if he'd try very hard to avoid it. It would all depend on Grimmjow's mood and his own mood. He shrugs. "Whatever. I can figure something out. You don't have to."

He pushes a few hangers aside to look at something in a color that caught his eye but doesn't pull it off the rack. Mostly he trails behind Ichigo, enjoying the chance to do something so mundane with him. He pulls out the most revealing thing he comes upon -more price tag and bow tie than cloth- and casually adds it to Ichigo's pile, mostly because he thinks it's funny but he definitely wouldn't mind seeing Ichigo wear next to nothing.

[asirensrage]

Title: One More Step Fandom: Tokyo Revengers Rating: Explicit Pairing: Izana x Unnamed/Undescribed Female OC Word count: 2072 Warnings: Dark!fic. Violence. Abuse. Threats. Gaslighting. Suicide attempt. Suicidal thoughts. Mention of "being shared". Seriously gaslighting. Implied future infantilization. Not a happy ending. Unbeta’d. *warnings are not exhaustive* Summary: There is only so far that you can corner an animal before it lashes out. Including her. Prompt: "Even if you got rid of me, you'd miss me. Admit it, you'd miss me."

Notes: based off of the prompt found here by @seaside-writings. Takes place in the future where Izana is controlling Toman (with Manila!Mikey). This was a lot of fun to write and I've enjoyed the reactions I've gotten so far, which has mainly been shock and horror lol. I hope you enjoy it.

**HEED THE WARNINGS**

She’s straddling his chest, knife poised on the base of his throat as her knees keep his arms pinned. His wide violet eyes meet hers and what pisses her off the most is the complete lack of fear she sees in them. She feels like she’s been running a marathon, the end finally in reach if she can just take one more step. That’s all she needs. One more step. 

She doesn't know how it got to this point. 

She can look back, regret bringing a sharp clarity to actions that she was blinded to before it was too late. Before he held her by the throat, forced her to face everything that he was and that he offered and refused to let go. She had been bordered by his men, one way or another. Closed off from anything that could reach out to pull her back out of the open water where he lay waiting to devour. 

She can see every step that led her into his trap, even the ones that were taken in haste because she was forced from behind. The man under her held her softly, sweetly and kissed her deep enough that she could taste the blood on his tongue. Her revulsion made him laugh, made him all the more determined that she remain chained to his side. Every part of her was broken apart, piece after piece, and she has been trying to glue herself back into place. Back into the woman she was before she ever crossed paths with Izana. 

He stares at her patiently, not even trying to fight. As if he knows it’s inevitable. 

It is inevitable. 

There is only so far that you can corner an animal before it lashes out and women are the more deadly of the species. 

“I thought you were going to kill me,” he says lightly, eyes never leaving hers. His gaze strips her bare. It always has. He lured her with promises and idealizations of a home, with the threat of revenge against those who have wronged her. 

“I want to see the life leave your eyes myself,” she says, her voice barely more than a whisper with her panting. 

“Even if you got rid of me, you’d miss me. Admit it. You’d miss me.” He stares as if waiting for the answer he knows she’ll give. Not anymore. She refuses. To admit to missing him means that she would miss the way he cradled her to him, the way he held her throat in his hand and threatened to kill her, to throw her to the wolves. To miss him would be to admit that she liked everything he had done for her, to her, and the way he’d allow select few access to her cunt while he fucked them. He was almost always the one fucking. Always the one in control. 

It would be admitting that the pieces she was putting herself back together with were in his image. Not hers. 

She presses the knife a little harder and he doesn’t even flinch. “Never.”

“Liar.” 

He moves. Her weight isn’t enough to stop him, despite her efforts. The knife goes flying as she’s forced onto her back, an inversion of seconds ago. Her feet kick out, arms scratching at his until he uses his hold against her neck to lift her head just enough to slam it back down onto the ground. It makes her dazed. Enough that she stops struggling for a moment as her senses realign. 

“Admit it.” He orders again. “Tell your king the truth.” 

“Not my ki–” her voice is cut off with the pressure of his hand tightening. His gaze hardens at the response. 

“Stop lying.” He slams her head down again, harder this time and her vision goes black for a second before the pain blossoms. It makes her stomach roll but if she throws up now, she’ll choke until he decides she deserves to breathe. If he decides. 

Tears build up in her eyes, a response to the pain. The pressure on her throat releases enough that she can gasp in the air she desperately needs. 

He strokes her cheek gently as she coughs, tears falling out of the corners of her eyes. “You make things so hard on yourself,” he says softly. As if he hadn’t just nearly killed her. He brushes hair out of her eyes. 

“Iz-Iza-” she coughs. His grip tightens again in warning. She closes her eyes, willing to face death for what she’s done. She should have been faster. Why did she hesitate? After everything he’s done, she would have been doing the world a favour. 

“Try again.”

“Si–” his grip tightens and she chokes for a second, coughing once she’s granted air again. “-y king,” she gasps more than says it. A feeble attempt to keep his violence at bay. She’s seen enough of it. Felt enough. 

His grip loosens, back to the softness he imitates. “How long must we play this game? How long until it finally sinks in that you and I are intertwined?” She knows what he’s not saying. She would never be separated from him. He had dug himself into her bones, leaving the remnants of the girl she was into the thing he’s formed. 

Until there’s nothing left, is what she wants to say but she can’t. The words lodge themselves in her throat. Tears slip down the sides of her face as she stares up at the man who calls himself a king. He’s beautiful, ethereal with the casual violence he carries. 

He stares at her a moment longer, the corner of his lips twitching before he nods, seemingly satisfied at her inability to argue. She wants to. She does. She just can’t seem to pull the words out of her chest, to breathe life into a promise that she’ll succeed next time. A promise she’s made repeatedly and never fulfilled. 

She feels…tired. Emotionally wrought and wrung out. There’s a slight ringing in her ears that she can almost ignore. Her gaze slips from his face, staring at the art piece on the wall that he bought her after catching her staring at it too long. He hung it in a place of honour, front and centre as if to remind her that no matter what they’ve done, what he’s done, he’s taken care of her. Isn’t that what’s important? 

His fingers tighten on her chin before he turns her so that her eyes meet his again. He kisses his teeth lightly, another admonishment at her choices. She watches his gaze drift over her face. “You need to stop hurting yourself,” he says almost gently. It sounds like he actually cares, as if she’s only fallen and he hasn’t tried her kill her. Quid pro quo.

“It’s terrible, isn’t it?” he says in the same tone. “That you never learn, do you? No matter how many lessons I teach, you stay as stubborn as a child.” He leans back slightly, hips pressing closer against hers as he pulls her slightly closer so they remain connected. “Is that what you are? A child?” He stares as if waiting for a response she can barely think of giving. She tries to shake her head but the motion makes her stomach roll and it feels as if he’s finally knocked something loose in it. She probably needs a hospital. 

“Is that how I need to treat you?” 

“N-no,” she croaks out. “Please.”

“Please what?”

“I-I’m s-sorry,” she forces out. She has to apologize. There’s no choice. If she doesn’t, he won’t kill her, but he’ll force her into another role that she knows will be worse than being a woman at his side. She can only imagine the way his men's faces will light up in amusement if he tells them to treat her as a child. They like humiliation too much when it’s not theirs. 

“Your words are worthless to me,” he tells me. “But I can be merciful. As long as you held the knife at my throat, you could never take that final step, could you?” 

She swallows the lump growing in her throat. No. Something held her back and she hates every part of herself for it. 

“No,” he answers for her. “Like I said, you’d miss me. Miss this.” He yanks her closer, moving her ass to rest on his knees, to keep her hips pressed against his. A parody of a mating press. One she’s been forced into before even if it never took. They’re consistent, at least, in ensuring she’s protected from that. 

Her gaze drifts again. She doesn't mean it but she can’t stay focused. Her head hurts and her throat feels scrubbed raw from his hold. She blinks and it feels like it takes longer than ever before she’s forced back to look at Izana. Will he mourn her if she dies here? Will he regret everything he’s done to her or will he only regret that it wasn’t on his terms? That’s how she should go. While she still has the ability to. She should wait until she’s left alone again and throw herself away, a final act of defiance in refusal to give him the satisfaction of choosing her death. It should be a choice she gets to make. Unless she hesitates like she did with a knife at his throat. Always unable to make that last move. 

He bends forward to brush his lips against hers. It’s soft, nearly tender and a complete contrast to his behaviour. She could lose herself in it, in the illusion he offers every time. It’s always so tempting to. It somehow feels so much more poignant after the things he does. She wants to soothe him, to make him offer this softness more and more until she’s drowning in it. Even if he’s the one pulling her under. 

“Izana,” she breathes into his mouth. 

He hums, smiling slightly at the submission. “Such a pretty thing like this, aren’t you?” He brushes her hair back. “You always are.” 

“My...my head hurts,” she whimpers. 

“You need to be more careful,” he says. “Such a clumsy thing, aren’t you?” He sighs before getting up, rocking back on his heels and standing. “You need me, even if you’re not willing to say it aloud. We both know it.” He offers his hand to her. 

She stares at it for a long moment, trying to will her body to work the way it’s supposed to, the way he expects it to. She’s been buried in his expectations, slowly suffocating under their weight. Can you be buried and broken apart? She thinks so. She feels like she is. The thing that emerges from the rubble is nothing she recognizes but he looks at her in satisfaction that makes part of her preen. It makes her sick.

She doesn’t know where she gets the strength, the courage, to shove her foot into his knee instead of taking his hand. He’s broken her into pieces, reforming her into what he wants, but the core of it is still her. She is still the woman she once was, even if she’s not the same. 

He swears at her, a hiss filled with warning and anger. She scrambles to stand but the concussion he’s left on her makes it difficult. She’s moving too quickly. Her stomach rolls and she crashes into the couch before she catches herself. The balcony lies before her. A beacon of release. A choice she can make. 

She runs.

Her fingers brush the cool glass before an arm reaches around her shoulder. A hand grabs her throat, circling it with an ease of familiarity before she’s sent flying back. Away from the balcony. Away from her chance. Still too slow, even if she didn’t hesitate. 

She slides across the floor, crashing into the wall across from it. The impact is jarring, sight going blank as her head rings until she’s folding over to throw up on the hard floor. Something’s broken. She can feel it in her arm, but she can’t focus. Can’t breathe through the nausea and taste of bile.

Izana walks towards her. She doesn’t have to look to know he’s disappointed. She can feel his anger even if he doesn’t show it. Instead, she hears him sigh. She curls up tighter, apologies worthless even if she tried. 

“A child it is then.” 

tr tag: @mitsuwuyaa @blackfire2013 @bleach-your-panties @reiners-milkbiddies

also: @scythegal and @m-ilkiee Network: @pixelcafe-network

I’m not tagging anyone else lol

[galadrieljones]

Well I think I played the game wrong because while I was busy just trying to figure out where Solas is, and thinking about Solas, and loving Solas, I was supposed to be doing other things lol.

So for two days I've been hung up in Rivain and the Hossberg Wetlands, trying to curry favor with my allies, as apparently I had been neglecting these two in particular? It's not my fault. What has come of this? Well, Emmrich and Neve have had some extremely lovely banter. They are my two favorite companions, as their conversations are lively, and Neve is gracious toward Emmrich, while I feel most of the other companions are suspicious of him (despite the fact that he's, idk, just extremely compassionate and diplomatic). Anyway, Rook has been called "dearest" and "darling" countless times now, and it makes her blush (me, too). At one point, at the tree in the Crossroads, Ghilan'nain's voice threatened Emmrich, and Rook got angry. Emmrich, however, stayed extremely calm. "Don't listen to them, dearest," he said. "It won't come to that." I cried.

I also cried while reading Solas's letter to Sene. But that's for another post.

There are also now blue flowers growing all over that blighted Grey Warden hell hole, which I had been avoiding, but I'm glad I spent so much time there. They are such a beautiful detail, the flowers, and how Neve says she wants to bring some to Lucanis? Love is in the air. All very romantic. It was so clever to have Antoine and Evka, our happiest married couple, leading the charge toward...pretty flowers. 💙 The only way it could have been better is if I'd gotten a little scene with my Emrook in the Sheltered Grove.

ANYWAY. I have finally gotten as far as I can, I think, in terms of getting my allies ready. I'm sure there's more I could do, particularly in Rivain, but I can't take it anymore. That map is killing me. Too many fetch quests making my brain sticky. I cannot go back to that lava place, not on this playthrough. I will pull out my hair. So I will be triggering the endgame TONIGHT

(I just cried while watching The Polar Express with my kids, so it's good to know my emotions are particularly unhinged at the moment. Maximum emotional impact is desired.)

[unabashegirl]

Different 14 — college hs

Harry's quiet, routine-driven life changes one weekend when he meets Y/N through a mutual friend at her party. She comes from a superficial, materialistic world with absent parents who believe money solves everything. Despite their differences, something clicks that night, and Y/N can't stop thinking about him.

Author's note: Hello everyone, I hope you are all doing well. I just got two things to say.

I just posted Different 34 on Patreon!

I'm still trying to gather the money to continue my journey to medical school in January. I've only gotten 1% of my goal. I'll leave the link here in case you would like or are able to help me. Please I am desperate! 🥺 https://ko-fi.com/mariabernal8706

--> different masterlist <--

check out my patreon (starting at $2) and get full access to the rest of the chapters, various one shots and much more :)

Harry had multiple questions that he needed to ask her, but how could he? There were surrounded by people and in a public space. He also had no intention of ruining the night. Their worlds had finally collided, and he could tell that Y/N looked so happy. Harry wasn’t planning on destroying her happiness.

“So, Sarah” James started a conversation with her. He wasn’t blind. He could see Sarah’s natural beauty. She wasn’t like most of the girls that he spent time together with, who always tried too hard to be noticed. He never cared for those types of girls. Sure, he had fun with them, but he never considered them for anything beyond that. He had gone crazy in his freshman and sophomore years which had granted him his current reputation as a fuckboy.

James had always carried himself with much confidence. He wasn’t just good-looking, but he was also smart. Most people perceived to be a jock since he spent most of his time at the gym and on the field. James’s father was the owner of a big company just like Y/N’s. His future had always been predestined. He was expected to fulfill his father’s spot after college. He was scared, excited, and nervous. James's father was the CEO and had hundredths of men working for him. James would eventually have to care for them too just like his father had done for so long. They were all his family, so the pressure was defiantly on.

“Tell us a little bit about yourself” He pushed his hands into the pockets of his sweater and leaned forward intrigued about what she had to say. She had been far too quiet, and he wanted to hear her.

“What do you want to know” She giggled and smiled, hating the attention that she was getting from Y/N’s handsome friends. Sarah had always flown below the radar especially when it involved boys. She wasn’t interesting enough; they would usually say, and she had accepted it. She didn’t take it to heart. Sarah knew that if that is what it took for her to have a respectable job after she graduated, she was willing to risk it all. Plus, all the men that said so, would eventually be working under her.

“Anything. I am all ears.” James was starting to understand Y/N’s fascination with Harry. He liked that she wasn’t throwing herself at him or speaking none stop about herself. She was acting a bit hard to get. It was refreshing.

“Why are you suddenly so interested?” Sarah clapped back wanting to know his intention. Sebastian chuckled and laid an arm over his friend’s shoulder. He was actually surprised that she hadn’t fallen for his charm, yet.

“Because you aren’t like the others” Harry was starting to feel a bit awkward about the whole interaction. It was weird having two men deliberately flirting with whom he considered his best friend.

On the other hand, Mitch was not having a good time. He was actually very annoyed with both men. He had always liked Sarah. She was like the sun to him. Every time he got close enough to her, she would burn him and turn him away. Mitch couldn’t stand away either. He needed her around just like Earth needs the sun to survive. Now, he had more competition. He felt like the chances of finally being with the girl of his dreams were slipping away.

“That was really good” Y/N breathed as she finished eating her last taco. Harry smiled and reached out to her from under the table. She knew that she had a lot of explaining to do. The last thing, she needed or wanted was for things to turn messier. She just prayed and hoped that Brian would stay miles away from her. Y/N just wanted to enjoy her senior year.

“Alright. Let’s go” Sebastian smiled as he abruptly stood up from the table.

“Where?” Sarah asked, confused at his sudden outburst of energy.

“To do something fun!” He teased, “Come on!”

“Where are we going?!” Y/N asked again as she loaded her bag in the back of Jeff’s car. Sebastian always had half of his body. in the car as he laughed heavily. “My car is back on the main campus!”

“Everyone get in. We’ll take you and then you’ll have to follow us!”

“There is no way we are all going to fit in!” Sarah exclaimed as she watched Y/N and Harry get on.

“Here,” Y/N said as she slid on top of Harry’s lap. “Now you can fit” Mitch allowed Sarah to get in the middle seat and then he squeezed himself in. Harry wrapped his arms around Y/N’s waist as soon as James hit the gas. They drove like maniacs and Y/N was already used to it.

“We are going to die” Sarah whispered to Mitch, “We should be back in the dorm and studying from where we had felt of.”

“It’s your senior year, Sarah! You are meant to be having fun” James said as he looked at her through the rearview mirror. Sebastian chuckled along with Y/N, who was too entertained preventing her head from smashing against the roof of the car. “Will you follow us?”

“Only if you tell us where we are going,” Y/N said as they dropped her off by her car.

“Absolutely not” James puffed, “Where is your sense of adventure? You know you are not going to be in your twenties, in college with your boyfriend and your best friends forever”. Y/N pursed her lips and shook her head with a smile.

“Fine!” He had gotten her. James had the ability to convince everyone to do the craziest things ever.

Y/N decided to take everyone in her car. She promised to drop each of them off after their little rendezvous. “Where the fuck are they going?” She mumbled as she drove down the unrecognizable back roads. She was leaning forward, and quitting her eyes trying to figure out where they were taking them.

“You seriously don’t know?” Harry asked as he looked at the time on his phone.

“No” she giggled noticing the backlights of James's car flashing. He pulled in the middle of the road. Y/N turned off the engine of the car as the boys got out of their car.

“Where are we?” Sarah asked as she looked around. It was a deserted street, surrounded by woods. It looked like a back road with no houses close by.

“Come” James opened Y/N's car door as he turned on the flashlight on his phone and led the way into the woods. “Don’t be scared” he reassured them as they walked into the dark woods in a straight line. James and Sebastian had found the place on one of their daily jogs. They had never taken anyone before, which explained their over-excitement.

“Do you know where you are going? Y/N asked as she trailed behind Harry. Their hands were intertwined as he held his phone with his other hand, illuminating the ground and making sure that Y/N didn’t trip over a rock or branch.

“Stop asking so many questions!” Sarah and Y/N giggled while Mitch was too quiet trying his best not to fall on his face. The cars seemed to be getting smaller as they walked further away from the road. mitch ran his hands across his face, realizing that he was getting too paranoid. No one could blame him. It was chilly, dark, and very windy which made it seem like the trees could talk.

“Harry!” Mitch yelled and ran up to the couple. He walked beside them not wanting to be the last.

“Are you scared?” Harry chuckled at his friend's uneasiness.

“Yes” He immediately confessed, “Don’t leave me” he whispered. It was quiet for a bit except for the sound of their steps until they finally detected the sound of water and saw the mood high in the sky. The trees finally ended, revealing the lake and a ridiculously small, secluded beach.

“How did you find this place?”

“On one of those morning runs that you hate so much” Y/N playfully slapped Sebastian on his abdomen.

“Runs?”

“The boys take these ridiculously long runs through the woods during the weekends” Y/N explained to Sarah.

“They aren’t ridiculous” Sebastian protested as they walked closer to the water. “They are healthy!”.

“Did I forget to mention that they start a five in the morning?” Y/N added as she wrapped her arms around Harry’s torso in search of body heat.

“Do you see this?” James raised his hoodie and shirt, showing his sculptured abdomen to everyone. “It makes it all worth it” He winked and took them both off. “Are you guys coming?” James asked as he stripped down to his underwear with Sebastian.

“It’s way too cold” Y/N pointed out as she cuddled closer to Harry.

“Oh please! That never stopped you before!” Sebastian yelled back. They do night dips on Lake Michigan during the summer too. They would alternate houses and spend the sizzling summer days by their pools, riding their bikes and getting ice cream shakes from Dairy Queen, but only if they weren’t traveling.

Sarah ran towards them. She always second-guessed herself and wanted to change it. She was one of those girls that always said no to everything, and tonight was the perfect night to change it. She wanted to be more adventurous and now it was a good start.

Mitch went right after her not wanting to be the odd one out.

“Do you want to go?” Y/N asked as she nuzzled her face in the crook of Harry’s neck. “We don’t have to. We can stay up here and cuddle.”

“That sounds way better than getting pneumonia” Harry chuckled as he ran his hands up her back.

“We are staying!” She yelled back at her friends. “Can we build a fire here?!”

“No! But neither can we swim at eight at night!” Sebastian yelled back so she started building it. She knew that they were going to freeze their asses as soon as they stepped out of the water. Y/N was very confident that Sebastian wouldn’t stop complaining because he was a big crybaby.

So, Harry and Y/N scouted for sticks and piled them on the ground.

“How are we lighting up this shit?” Harry said with a frown, finding an obstacle in her master plan.

“Oh, I got it” She ran up to where James had left his pants. She quickly found a lighter in the front pocket of his pants. She proudly bent down and lit up the fire.

“This is nice,” Y/N said as she sat between his legs and allowed him to wrap his arms around her as they enjoyed the warmth that the bonfire was emitting.

“It is” They could hear their friends laughing and the water being splashed around while they held each other tightly. “Are we ever going to talk about what happened today?” Harry finally asked, feeling a huge weight fall off his shoulders.

“We are” She just had no clue where to start. “I just think today isn’t the best day to do so”.

“When then?” His voice was stern and rough. It was unrecognizable to Y/N. He didn’t understand why she kept dismissing the subject. He could also feel how tense her body had gotten as soon as he touched the subject. Perhaps she was lying to him — he wondered.

“Tomorrow,” She said, “After class. I’ll pick you up” She heart had accelerated like it was about to burst out of her chest. Harry dropped the subject right away. The thought of Harry leaving and giving up on them mortified her for the rest of the night. They huddled around the fire and shared humorous stories and anecdotes about one another. But the laughs and jokes weren’t enough to take her mind away from the scenarios she kept making up in her mind. The thought of Harry leaving stayed in the back of her mind, tormenting her, all through the night.

[russeliarat]

So I've encountered some WILD vague posting about the CCCC fandom and it's arguments about gore fics. I haven't directly interacted with this fandom for over a year - not because of anything bad, I just moved on to other interests to be clear, however the fact that this issue that I encountered a full YEAR ago is still a prominent issue in the fandom is crazy. And according to my boyfriend, who still actively engages with the main section of the fandom and their fanfictions, it's apparently gotten a LOT worse.

So I'm gonna be clear, I still engage with CCCC and CJ's media. I still listen to his music, I still engage with art on tumblr, as well as headcanons, I still draw HMSW (plus two of my system's cohosts are directly sourced from the media). I just haven't read the fanfiction or gone on CJFS for a while. Hearing that this has been so bad, it's come to vague posting back and forth on tumblr makes me so fuckin fed up with this shit.

Read to the end of my post before you form an opinion on this, I have nuance, okay?

Hi people, maybe it doesn't take a genius to take a step back and figure out that saying that you should be allowed to make reasonless and intense gore, abuse, and torture fics about a REAL GUY'S personification of his own personal struggles with mental health and suicide is insanely entitled /neg.

Heart, Mind, Soul, and Whole are not just independent characters from Chonny Jash. They are his (self-admitted) personifications of his mental health struggles, thusly, they are him. CJ has said that Whole is just him.

Excusing making fanfiction about intense abuse and gore and torture and cannibalism and god knows what else about HMSW on 'they're AUs' or 'they're interpretations' is not okay. Usually, I'd agree that you should be allowed to make fanfiction freely without people telling you what to do. HOWEVER! This is a real man's struggle with his mental health so I think that there are certain lines and boundaries that should be placed out of respect for CJ. Reasonless gore isn't necessarily bad, but reasonless gore about a real person's struggles is above and beyond disgusting. I've seen someone argue that saying that is government state censorship...

Guys, there is a distinctive difference between 'reasonless fluff' and 'reasonless gore'. One is wanting them to get along and be nice. The other is wanting them to torture each other. I don't think it takes a genius to understand there's a huge difference between 'I want them to snuggle' and 'I want violence to be done upon them'.

I think over the past year, I've kept this idea to myself because I wasn't directly involved and I didn't want to face the backlash at the time. Then my boyfriend got slammed in dms by someone who had these views, so now I'm pissed. I have personal shit in the game now and I cannot hold myself at bay anymore because I'm at my wits fucking end.

I think a lot of writers who delve into these intense topics should keep in mind 'what would CJ think if he saw that I was making fics about gore/abuse/torture with characters that personify himself?' Not because all gore or abuse is bad, they can be used for some wonderful symbolism or tension when pulled off with meaning and though and tact - rather, it's because some people take it way too far, sometimes without realising. I've seen a lot of people I was close to get stuck in an echo-chamber and not realise they spiraled from the headcanon that The Juno Incident was a violent blinding to something as intense as frequent abuse or gore between HMS.

I want the people on the opposing side to realise that I'm not going after gore or violence or intense themes. Some of my favourite pieces of media contain very violent, gory, abusive, intensely triggering themes, and sometimes, they are reasonless and because the developer or writer wanted to explore different forms of horror and fear. I don't personally believe that those kinds of themes should carry over to CCCC because (for the fifth time I'm mentioning it but I feel like I really need to drill it into some people's heads) the album is about a real person's struggle with suicide and his own mental health.

I'm not trying to censor anyone's views, it's just that I think sometimes there's just general common sense boundaries surrounding fandoms that are about someone's mental health.

An additional point is how often these fics tend to be quite ableist and I do see these writers project their internalised ableism onto HMS, which is a much bigger issue in the fandom since about 90% of people headcanon Heart as being somewhere on the blind spectrum and Mind as having some sort of issue with his voice that means he needs to use a vocal implant/Mind being a robot (which can very quickly spiral into ableism depending on how it's used).

Frequently, I see people portray Heart's blindness as making him weak or helpless and the same with Mind and Soul if people headcanon them as having implants or prosthetics or some form of disability and use it in their gore fics. Due to a lot of gore/torture fics using helplessness from injury as horror, it can very easily become quite ableist. I've been in fandoms with a whole month dedicated to harming their faves, and this can be an issue with them as well, not just the CCCC fandom. It can be done without ableism, but more often than not (especially in the CCCC fandom) people aren't looking for it when they write and can create ableist fics about a helpless character because their new/old disabilities.

I also saw someone talking about mischaracterisation and how that ties into this whole thing, but that's for another time because it's partially a separate topic that I could do a full length thesis essay on, so I'll do it another time.

TLDR; Don't make gore/torture/abuse fics about a real person's personifications of himself and his mental health/suicide struggle. That's fucked???

[flightyalrighty]

i love infested so much, i don't understand the hate at all. my only "complaint" is that i found it and got hooked and reached the most current page so quickly and now im always anxiously anticipating the next!! it's too good and i need to read more! it's a nice feeling though honestly, we're so used to content dumps on streaming platforms that waiting for updates is a feeling many have forgotten. it's exciting when new pages drop! i love it so far and can't wait to see where it goes!

It's definitely wild to be running a webcomic in the age of binge-watching, and the attitude of some people, the impatience that some seem to have, can possibly be traced to that whole thing.

It's like, Certain People have absolutely shown that they're not used to waiting, like, at all to me just going off of some of the more obnoxious asks I've gotten. The amount of times people have just outright asked me to spoil my comic is more than I have fingers on my hands. At the very least for the folks who don't wanna wait, that's what the ko-fi membership thing satisfies. Script pages are so much easier to churn out than comic pages, so my Ascended tiers are fed well.

I don't let those weirdos telling me to change my story get to me. I'm making something that I wanna make, and I'm happy that a whole lot of you folks wanna come along for the ride. If they're so scared of meaningful conflict they can just play Lost World over and over and over again. Maybe that'll satisfy them.

[anonymousewrites]

Of Two Worlds (Book 3) Chapter Twenty-Two

Fushiguro Megumi x Half-Curse! Reader

Chapter Twenty-Two: Moon

Summary: Megumi and (Y/N) reach the end, and a new dawn breaks.

Mouse Note: We have reached the end of Of Two Worlds. Wow. What a journey. So many years have passed since I started this series, and I love all these characters so dearly, and their story has finally been completed, and their lives stretch out before them. A special from me, the author, will come out on Monday, but the actual content and chapters of Of Two Worlds is over. I am so sad to say goodbye to MC and Megumi. But I am so thankful for all the support I've gotten through the years. Thank you to everyone!

            “Domain Expansion: Malevolent Shrine.”

            “Domain Expansion: Solar Eclipse.”

            Sukuna’s domain cracked the moment it tried to compete with (Y/N)’s. His shrine was demolished, flattened by the expanse of endless night sky flying out from where (Y/N) stood. The edges of the domain seemed unseeable. Across the battlefield, Itadori, Nanamie, Uraume, Maki, Nobara, and Ren were pulled into Solar Eclipse. Ren’s eyes widened as her game was brought to a sudden halt, and everyone’s eyes went to the center of the domain where (Y/N) stood. There were no buildings to obscure their views of her. There was only the Moon.

            (Y/N) stood on a raised dais, the flames of the sun covered by the expanse of the powerful moon. Behind her sat a throne of silver, and she didn’t even have to glance back to sit down. She sat down, leaned back, and gazed down at all the people below her.

            “I told you. I am the strongest,” said (Y/N) as Sukuna felt his cursed energy fading as he stood within the expanse of her power. She raised a hand.

            Sukuna’s gaze went to Ren and Uraume—standing so far away in the night sky. Their eyes widened, and Sukuna’s cold, dead heart beat in his chest. Ah, yes. The two people he loved and lost and would lose again because of the constant battle, the constant vying for strength, the constant violence.

            “Curses always come back,” said Sukuna, the statement not to (Y/N) but to them, to tell them he would find them again—

            “Then perhaps in the next life you’re learn to love without seeking violence alongside it,” said (Y/N). She flicked her wrist. “Lunar Cycle: Blood Moon.”

            Sukuna felt Cleave be summoned within him, and cuts erupted across his skin. The moment blood hit his tattoos, they glowed silver, burning into him.

            “Sukuna!”

            “No!”

            Uraume. Ren.

            And then the stars themselves were blurring through him, the moon was rising above him, and the light—the sun—of his life was being blotted out by the Moon as his own blood turned against him and silver light destroyed him from the inside out.

            I love you. Next time…I’ll be—

            Sukuna’s body hit the ground, and the last thing he felt was two pairs of hands catching him.

            (Y/N)’s domain faded, and she floated to the ground where the dais had been. Megumi moved to her side instantly, and the other sorcerers’ eyes widened. Sukuna was dead. They had survived him. Even the moon had lost its red glow, returning to silver. The edges of the sky lightened as dawn approached. The dawn of a new era was arriving.

            “Sukuna…” Uraume knelt by his side, gazing at his empty expression. “Ren, is there—”

            “No.” Ren gritted her teeth and squeezed her eyes shut. For once, her emotions were clear to the world. Her grief was written on her face. “There’s nothing to do. He’s gone.” She let out a long breath as she held Sukuna’s hand. “And I…tire. There is no solution to this, just the same cycle.”

            Uraume traced Sukuna’s face with their hand. “Then we break it.” They stood and turned to (Y/N). The other sorcerers had still hung back, but (Y/N) met their gaze evenly. “Kill us.”

            Ren understood and rose to stand beside Uraume. “Yes.” She saw the only road ahead—she always did. “Kill us.” Give us a chance to come back with him anew.

            (Y/N) nodded. Her katana appeared in her hand.

            “Maki,” said Ren. Maki looked at her. “Don’t forget our deal.”

            “I won’t,” said Maki.

            “If you win and sorcerers rule once more, make sure they treat those who are different better. It’s the only way forward.”

            Ren smiled. “Good.” Solemnly, she reached out and took Uraume’s hand.

            (Y/N) raised the katana and slashed. Two more bodies fell beside Sukuna. It was over.

            “We did it,” said Itadori, letting out a breath of shock. “He’s gone.” Unable to hold himself back, he turned and hugged Nanami. Tears rushed to Itadori’s eyes. They had lost so many, but they had won. Grief and relief mixed in his heart.

            Nanami held him close and looked at (Y/N). She looked back. As soon as Itadori no longer needed him, he would go to her. He smiled as he hugged Itadori. But she also had someone else to protect her.

            “(Y/N).”

            She looked at Megumi. He reached out and took her hand. (Y/N) looked down and grasped it securely before looking at him properly.

            “We did it,” he said.

            “We did,” said (Y/N). She smiled. “We’re alive.”

            The first rays of dawn touched the world. The rest of their lives was just beginning.

l

            “Ieiri has almost finished healing everyone,” said Megumi, emerging from within the building where she had hidden and worked. “She said your reverse-cursed technique saved a lot of them from lifelong injuries.”

            (Y/N) nodded from where she stood at the edge of the rooftop and looked out across the world that had lived to see another day.

            “How are you feeling?” asked Megumi, reaching out to touch her hand.

            “Different,” said (Y/N). “So many people are dead.”

            “I know,” said Megumi softly. Choso, Yuki, Higurama, Hakari…Gojo. There was nothing more for him to say. Yes, life would move on, but people were still gone. People had died.

            “Life is going to be different, isn’t it?” said (Y/N). “You and I—curses. The jujutsu world being rebuilt.”

            “We have a chance to make it different. We have to take that,” said Megumi. “And we’ll be able to do that together.” His grip on her hand tightened. “Because we’re together forever.”

            “We vowed it,” said (Y/N), holding his hand and looking at him.

            Megumi gazed at her, at the curse marks, the sloping horns, the beautiful silver eyes… “(Y/N)—You know that you mean the world to me, don’t you?” He lifted her hand, and (Y/N) looked at him. “When I thought you were dead—that you had left me alone in this world—it destroyed me. I didn’t even think for a moment whether or not I would survive giving you my heart. I just wanted you to live. Because I—I love you, (Y/N). I love you.”

            (Y/N) lifted her hand to Megumi’s cheek and smiled at him. He had no heart, but he could feel himself growing flustered as she gazed at him.

            “I love you, too, Megumi.” Those were all the words she had to speak. He understood the rest in his soul. After all, theirs were bound together by the very emotion they had just admitted. (Y/N) leaned in and rested her forehead against his. “I love you very much.”

            Smiling, Megumi leaned in and kissed her. (Y/N)’s hand on his cheek went to his hair and pulled him closer. Megumi’s hands went to her waist and pulled her closer. Finally. Finally sung their souls.

            The Moon and the Shadows were together once more, reunited and in love.

l

            “Nanami-san—”

            “We’re beyond that, (Y/N),” said Nanami.

            Behind him, Tsumiki and Megumi were hugging each other tightly, finally getting to just be siblings after everything that had torn them apart. Nobara and Itadori were speaking to one another while Maki and Inumaki sat beside Yuuta as he recovered in a cot.

            “I’m a curse, now,” said (Y/N), looking at him.

            “No. I said it before, and I’ll say it now. You could never be a curse,” said Nanami. “Because you’re a blessing.”

            (Y/N)’s heart clenched at the words, and she hugged Nanami tightly. “I’m sorry you had to fight again.”

            “For you? I’d do it a million times over,” said Nanami, holding (Y/N) tight. “You’re family.”

            “You’re the only dad I ever needed,” said (Y/N), hugging him.

            Times would be hard. The world was going to be different. But they had one another and would face the changes together. Over Nanami’s shoulder, Megumi smiled at (Y/N). She smiled back.

l

            “I’m a curse now. Megumi is, too. But we’re not monsters. We have our minds. And our…heart. Sukuna is gone, and you are, too. We’re going to guide the world to be better. It won’t be perfect. But we have to chance to try, and I’m not giving that up.

            “But…we miss you. We wish you were here so that you could live instead of fighting. The world asked too much of you. If you…get another chance, I hope you get peace. And joy. And love. You deserve it.

            “And Megumi and I will be waiting. Even if you never see us and never recognize us, we’ll be here, keeping the world safe for everyone who gets a chance at peace.”

            (Y/N) rose from where she knelt before two gravestones. “Goodbye, Gojo. I hope you find peace.” She looked from the stone labeled “Gojo Satoru” to the one right next to it. “Together.” The name “Geto Suguru stared back.”

            “Are you ready?” said Megumi, forming from the shadows.

            (Y/N) nodded. “I am.”

            Megumi looked at the graves. “Do you think they’re alright?”

            “I think they’re together,” said (Y/N). “And they were apart for so long.” She looked at Megumi. “Like us.”

            “Do you think they’ll get another chance?”

            “I hope they do,” said (Y/N). Her solemn expression shifted into a neutral one. “Is it time to get to work?”

            “Yeah,” said Megumi. “Maki has been out recruiting, and Utahime is running point with getting the government to stop trying to figure out how to turn cursed energy into a military weapon, but we have a lot more people with unlocked cursed energy looking for guidance. Nanami is getting through the files, and Nobara and Itadori are rebuilding.” He smiled. “But they’ve organized a proper celebration first. To remember that we’re alive.” He took their hand, and the shadows absorbed them.

l

            (Y/N) let out an honest laughed and leaned back into Megumi as they watched Nobara and Maki dance—Nobara had wanted to, and Maki couldn’t say no to her. At the side of the room, Yuuta and Inumaki were chatting. Tsumiki was sitting calmly at the edge of the room, smiling at all these new people who cared about her and her brother. Ieiri and Utahime were drinking and way too close to be normal. Nanami sat with Itadori as Itadori explained in-detail all the battles he’d been in while waiting for Nanami to recover. If (Y/N) was his daughter, Itadori was his son, that was for damn sure.

            (Y/N) looked up at Megumi. The moonlight shone on his face, and (Y/N) traced it. He looked down at her and smiled. He leaned in, and she met his movement in a kiss.

            The world was a complicated place. It would always be changing. Years would never be the same. Nothing stayed the same. Curses evolved. Kings fell. Sorcerers changed society. One day a cursed object was a protection against curses and the next it was the catalyst for monumental change. Maybe one day someone would pick up such an object and things would begin again. Or maybe it would simply fade and decay, the curse’s spirit ready for a new life. Maybe one day three people would meet one another in a time of peace, and their strength, intellect, and loyalty would serve them for a better life. Maybe one day a boy with white hair would meet a boy with black hair and form a bond that no one could come between.

            But until those possibilities even begin to emerge and even years after, the night would remain. It brought the Moon and the Shadows together. (Y/N) and Megumi’s souls were there to stay. Their love changed only in its growth. They were beings of two worlds with love as the bridge—forevermore entwined in the night.

Taglist:

@snowy-violet

@tsukikoxo

[aplaceinthedark]

chapter three: ONE TASTE of the LIFE

Summary: The Appalachian Mountains hide numerous monsters, and it's up to Taylor and the Bad Omens to prevent them from causing any harm.

Word Count: 2,945

CW: Supernatural themes, Star Wars spoilers, Hand Jobs (male receiving)

A/N: I am so sorry this took so long. For the past several months, I've been dealing with job issues and major burnout depression. Whereas that's still hanging around, I think I might be in a better place to write more. If you're still hanging on despite my hiatus, thank you very muchness.

This is RPF, and thus will contain real people, but names and events will be changed. If this bothers you too much, then please leave this temple without causing harm.

Divider by: @saradika-graphics

“Taylor? Are you listening to a word I said?”

I jumped, nearly knocking my water bottle over. “N-No. I’m sorry. What were you saying?” I asked sheepishly.

Rachel smiled sympathetically. “Still worried about the break-in?” she asked. I nodded, as I had told everyone that that was the reason why I was so jumpy.

I liked Rachel. Despite being almost twenty years older than me, she was sort of my only friend outside the circle of misfits and monsters I had embedded myself in. She also didn’t live in New Hope, thankfully. She was a transfer from a bigger town, since our library desperately needed one after one of our librarians “mysteriously disappeared” last August.

Said librarian’s assistant had also “mysteriously vanished” as well, leaving a job wide open for me to fill. I didn’t mind it, being Rachel’s assistant. I might have to do grunt work a lot of the time, but at least she helped instead of just dumping it all on me.

“Anyways, as I was saying, I’m pretty sure no one has gone through the donation bin this decade, if you want to make a dent in it.”

Sitting on my ass while I sort for the next two hours? “Don’t threaten me with a good time,” I said, earning a chuckle from her as I stood up and left the front desk.

There were several boxes. She wasn’t kidding. This was going to take longer than I thought. Setting my phone off to the side, I pressed play on one of my safe-for-work playlists and started humming along to some Chappell Roan.

It had been a few days since the incident with the pale creature that had come onto my porch. There had been no repeat occurrences at our place, but someone had said something about seeing a sick-looking coyote at the edge of their yard. I hadn’t mentioned that to Nick, since I wasn’t even sure that it was the same thing that I had seen. 

And Nick was… I couldn’t burden him with any more problems. Between his time at the new tattoo place, townspeople coming to him for remedies to their ailments, and not being able to sleep very well, he was exhausted. I had woken up to him passed out on his couch this morning, Lydia loafing on his back. If I could make him sleep for an entire day, I would do it in a heartbeat.

I pulled the next box towards me and dug through the dusty contents. I was sure now that most of these donations were just from older ladies dumping the contents of their attics off on us just to free up some space. Several of these books so far were the same cookbook in different states of decay. 

I was just about to ask Rachel for a mask since I was tired of sneezing out dust when my hand pulled out a book that was different from all the others. A quick flip through revealed it was a journal. Either their handwriting was terrible or it was written in a different language, because I couldn’t make heads or tails of what it was saying. But some of the drawings in it intrigued me, so I set it in the Keep Pile, with the intention to ask Rachel what to do with it. If someone donated it without knowing, they might want it back.

By the end of my shift, my back and lungs didn’t appreciate what work I had gotten done. “Being in your thirties must be rough,” Rachel laughed as I tried popping my back several times. “Maybe you could get that cute boyfriend of yours to help you out later tonight.”

I felt a brief flush rise to the surface of my skin as I thought about Nick’s skilled fingers. “Quit it,” I mumbled, earning a cackle from her that would normally get someone in a library in trouble.

“What’s that?” she asked, pointing to the journal in my hands.

“Oh, I found it in one of the boxes. It looks like somebody might’ve accidentally put it in the donation box. Should we ask if they want it back?” I said.

Rachel shook her head. “Sorry buttercup,” she said, using her nickname for me. “Those were anonymous, and who knows how long ago it was donated. There’s no way we’d be able to trace it back to its owner. Unless it has historic value, we’re supposed to throw it out.”

Something in my face must’ve changed her mind. “Well, if you don’t want to, I could conveniently look the other way when you leave,” she said. 

I was about to say that no, that it was fine, that I didn’t need another written book in my house when Nick was still combing through Granny’s hex books, but the words caught in my throat and I thanked her instead. Maybe if I could find its owner, that would be one good deed I’d done for this town, since they were still wary of me several months after I had moved in.

The library closed at seven, but I didn’t get to go to my car until half an hour later. Late April still meant that it was dark out when I left work, but the building was in the middle of New Hope, the forest a ways off. I dashed to my car through the rain, the water from the puddles splashing up as my feet crashed down in them. 

My fingers were wrapped around the car’s door handle when  a cold rush of air blew through my denim jacket, and the hair on the back of my neck stood up. I froze as the door automatically unlocked, the sound as loud as a gunshot despite the sound of the rain. Something in the reflection of the car window caught my eye.

Someone was behind me.

I slowly turned around, trying not to startle it. Meanwhile, my mind was racing in confusion and fear. Nothing came out of the woods. The town was safe.

The boys couldn’t help me if something were to happen to me out here.

So what was the shadowy figure doing in the middle of a parking lot?

It didn’t move as I stared at it. It was almost formless; I could just make out the thin, vaguely humanoid shape of it. Even if I wanted to say something, my throat had closed shut. The chill of the night increased, the wind picking up and sending some bits of trash skittering across the asphalt. But it didn’t disturb the shadow. 

I opened my mouth to say… something? Shout at it to scare it away? But another voice startled me into screaming. I whipped around. 

“Jesus, Mary, and Joseph, Taylor!” Rachel swore, hand on her heart. She was standing a few feet away under her umbrella. “What’re you still doing here? Are you okay?”

“Uhh… yeah. Just thought I saw something,” I said. I turned back around.

Other than us, the parking lot was empty.

The smell of food coming through a cracked window greeted me as I stepped onto the front porch. My knees felt weak at the thought of Nick cooking after the heart attack I had had. I took a moment to compose myself, exhaling as I turned the doorknob and stepped into our home.

It was indeed Nick cooking, as he stood in front of the stove. His long black hair was tied up in a bun, and he was wearing his thick-rimmed glasses. “Hiya,” he said, not even turning around. 

I dropped my backpack onto one of the chairs at the kitchen table, immediately walking over and hugging him from behind. “Woah, hey. Everything alright?” He asked. His hand moved down to cover both of mine.

I should tell him; I need to tell him. Instead, I nodded into the space between his shoulders. Even though a part of me knew that the creepiness of the town's legends were true, I still couldn't believe that something would come out of the woods and into the safeness of the streets.

So what I said instead was, “I missed you,” into his shirt. 

“Missed you more,” he said in return, despite seeing each other this morning. 

“What are you making?” I asked, peering over his shoulder. 

“Just some hamburger pasta. Thought it would be good for an easy night, since it's just the two of us until later tonight.”

“Really? Not even Folio?” I asked. 

Without looking up, Nick pointed over at the kitchen calendar with the spoon in his free hand. A little black circle was drawn on today's date and the next two days. The New Moons meant that Folio was stuck in his Grim form until the first sliver of the moon shined. Kind of like a werewolf but opposite. 

“It'll be done in a few. Go get comfortable and I'll put on a movie,” he said, his own way of shooing me out of the kitchen. As I parted with him, I saw that he hadn't done the same with Lydia, who was watching from the floor with her hungry eyes. 

As I changed into some lounge pants and an old sweater of Nick's, I tried to think of a way to bring up the encounter with the shadow person. There was no way that he wouldn't get upset about it, that was a fact. Maybe after we ate.

When I came back out into the front room, Nick had helped himself to making my plate and putting it on the coffee table. I sat down next to him, I pulled my plate onto my lap. He had pulled up Rise of Skywalker for us to watch.

“So who’s coming later?” I asked as he started the movie.

“Noah,” Nick mumbled. There was an undercurrent of something in his voice, so I guess Noah had transferred something to his mind that annoyed him. 

“That's fine,” I said, squeezing his thigh. 

After eating, I curled up into Nick, and he wrapped an arm around my shoulders. “We should dress up as Kylo and Rey for Halloween again,” he said.

“Your hair’s getting too long for you to be Kylo,” I said, poking the side of his head.

“Yeah, because Rey is totally a blonde.”

“It was last minute!”

We kept up the light commentary for most of the film. I was fine up until the part when Rey sacrificed herself to kill the Emperor. As Ben Solo sacrificed himself to resurrect her, I threaded my fingers through his. A moment passed, and then Nick squeezed my hand. 

When the credits rolled, I tried to get up to take our dishes back to the kitchen sink. Nick pulled me back down. “And where do you think you’re going?” he asked, pulling me onto his lap. He wrapped his arms around me.

“Was gonna do the dishes, since you made dinner,” I said.

He pulled my head gently to rest on his shoulder. “Just stay here. With me,” he said, quietly. He would do this if he thought I was about to have one of my moments. 

He started playing with my hair, making my eyes flutter shut. “Okay,” I said. 

He kissed my forehead, but as he was pulling away, I reached up to cup his face and direct him further down. His lips brushed mine before pressing down once, soft and tender, but then he tried pulling away again. “Are you su–”

“Nick,” I pleaded, his name coming out in a rush. If he had any resolve before, it came crumbling down within milliseconds.

He was still a bit hesitant, flicking his tongue against my lips. But I wasn’t made of glass, so I pushed his chest until his back was pressed onto the couch cushions. I crawled up him until I was straddling his hips, my knees pressing into the sides of his waist. The kiss never broke.

It didn’t take long for him to harden beneath me, and I couldn’t help the small, satisfactory grin that rose to my lips. I ran my hand down his chest, down his stomach to the waistband of his shorts. When I finally parted with Nick, his hand shot up to curl around the back of my head. “Bun–”

“Can I touch you?” I asked.

“Oh, fuck yes. Please,” he pleaded.

I lifted myself a little bit, just enough to give me some room to slip my hand underneath the waistband of his boxer-briefs. The angle might’ve been a little bit awkward, but it didn’t really matter when I wrapped my fingers around the considerable size of him.

“Fuck,” he groaned, throwing his head back against the pillows. The movement caused him to bare the pretty tan skin over his throat, and I practically descended upon it. The minute I mouthed over his pulse point, his hips rolled up, rutting into my hand. On the upstroke I rubbed my thumb over the tip, and he made my favorite sound of–

Click.

We both froze, my hand down his pants. I quickly raised my head and our eyes locked on each other at the sound of the door unlocking. As the front door opened, I quickly rose up to stand on my knees. Noah stopped dead in his tracks, confusion written on his face. 

“Am I interrupting something?” he asked.

“Yes,” I said immediately, Nick echoing my words from below me.

Noah’s eyes roamed over me for a second, and his face hardened. “Please, continue. I don’t want to interrupt you guys making out in–”

Nick sat up, crawling out from underneath me. If he stood up, Noah could easily see that we were doing more than making out. “When we agreed on later, I mean late.” 

“It’s after eleven. I think that’s late enough,” Noah said, striding across the kitchen to the fridge, where he took out a beer. 

As Nick straightened himself, I caught the look on his face that said he was communicating with Noah through the bond that he had with everyone. Was there something agreed upon that didn’t require me knowing about? 

My thought was all but confirmed when Nick put his hand on my waist. “You wanna go to bed, Bun?” he asked, looking up at me with big green eyes. In this lighting, they were dark as the evergreens outside.

“No, I’m not tired,” I said. I fixed him with a look that said that I wasn’t going to be kept in the dark. Again.

He sighed. “Hang on, I gotta get the hex book,” he said, standing up. He then walked to the spare bedroom.

I looked over at Noah, who was leaning back against the fridge. He perked an eyebrow. “How was work?” he asked before taking a sip of his beer.

I narrowed my eyes at him. “I was gonna tell him.”

“But you got distracted, didn’t you?”

“Fuck off, Bambi.”

“Oh, I’m about to do worse than that.”

I tilted my head. “What the fuck is that supposed to mean?”

Nick came back with a small, leatherbound notebook. He tossed it onto the kitchen table, as if it personally offended him. “We’ve been doing this all wrong,” he said. He practically collapsed into one of the chairs. 

“Doing what wrong? What is ‘this’?” I asked.

“There’s a reason why the Valley has been getting worse these past few years. More things showing up, resurfacing, growing bolder enough to where people can catch glimpses of them. Pale Things showing up shouldn’t be a surprise, really.” He was babbling, practically. But then he took in a deep breath and closed his eyes.

“Those sacrifices weren’t just for Vessels. They were also to keep the Woods from getting worse.”

Noah’s lips thinned. “I told you, I’m not killing any more innocent people.”

“Yeah, I know, and I think I found a way around that, but…” Nick trailed off. He then silently opened the hex book and flipped to a page he had marked. He then held it out towards me.

“Why me?” I asked.

“I’ve already seen it,” Noah said. 

I took the book and glanced at the pages. It wasn’t in any readable context: Granny wrote in some kind of “language” that had been passed down through her family as to keep their practice a secret from others. Nick had been slowly translating them over the past few months into his own notebooks.

“What is this?” I finally asked. 

“It's a… Fertility Ritual.” Nick swallowed thickly. “My ancestors would send someone into the forest so the Forest would be… sated.”

“A sacrifice. Like what happened with you guys.” I waved a hand over Noah. 

“No! Well… sort of,” Nick said. He bit his lip. 

“That was more the Black Stag's version. Though it wanted sacrifices so it could take a mortal form.” Noah folded his arms over his chest. “This is a… less bloody version.”

I skimmed over the page again, and it finally clicked. “When you say ‘fertility’, you mean… Noah's got to knock someone up?”

“No!” The two shouted at the same time. “God, fuck no,” Nick sighed. “But the baby making process is the main part.”

“He has to have sex with someone?” I asked incredulously. 

“Not just someone…” Nick lowered his voice to a mumble. “Someone with a… someone of the opposite sex.”

“Well how the fuck is he gonna do that?” I asked. “Everyone around here will recognize him, and then you got the antlers to deal with.”

The two were quiet suddenly. Nick put his head in his hands. “Bun…”

“What?”

“He's talking about you,” Noah put bluntly.

tysm for reading! If you enjoyed this, please reblog to share the word of the Revered Father. Next chapter coming soon.

Featured Creatures

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@screamsinsilver @darksigns-exe @nojoyontheburn @baddestomens

[reclaiming-antiradinclus-memes]

I'm not sure this is the right place to ask, but i get met with pure hostility in other transid blogs asking stuff like this, and this one seems friendly, so here I go.

I've heard plenty of bad stuff about transids, especially transrace and transabled, saying they're harmful and cause stigma, and also arguments about how ysing the trans label is harmful. I can kind of see both sides of the argument, so, are most transids not....well....insensitive, in a sense? Because alot seem to be. /nbr /genq

I’m first going to address the accusations that transids are harmful because they use the trans-prefix, and that’s the fact that transgender people don’t own the trans- prefix. It just means to move across, to move beyond, or to change. And that is what transids are doing. If bigots use them to make transgender people look bad, that’s not our fault and we shouldn’t stop being ourselves. There are alternatives terms for people who, for one reason or another, don’t associate with the trans prefix. Altage is a common alternative for transage for those who don’t identify with “transitioning” ages, and diaracial is frequently used as an alternative to transrace as not to take language from adoptees. But most of us prefer the trans- prefix. And us using it doesn’t take away from transgender people.

As for transids being insensitive, it really depends what you consider insensitive. There are some people who believe that someone identifying as transfeminine is deeply insensitive to “real” women and their struggles with misogyny. But that doesn’t make a transgender identity insensitive. I’m not trace/diaracial, and I am white, so I don’t know if I’m the best person to discuss trace/diaracial and insensitivity, but I recently answered a different ask with some trace/diaracial resources.

As for transabled, BIID is a real disorder that causes a desire to be physically disabled, usually either by losing a limb or having said limb paralyzed. These desires are no more insensitive to those who have come by the conditions they desire naturally than transmasculine individuals’ desires to remove their breasts are insensitive to cisgender women who have had breast cancer. As for neurodivergent transabled identities, I can only speak for myself as a cisautistic person. I think it is far more insensitive to imply that autism is only ever suffering, that it can never be desirable, and that people should never try to emulate it.

I will confess to there being some transabled identities that do personally strike me as insensitive and that I feel uncomfortable around. One of those is transdepression. I have been struggling with suicidiality on and off for almost two and a half years now and it’s gotten to the point where I wonder if I will ever get better. Seeing others aspire to clinical depression makes me wonder if they truly understand how terrible this can feel sometimes. My feelings don’t make me a bad person, just like your feelings of discomfort don’t make you one. The important thing is to stay open minded. I always try to seek out perspectives from those I don’t understand, and I encourage you to do the same. If other people react with hostility, then you should block them. Ask respectful questions and hopefully you will get respectful answers.

If anyone else would like to add on anything, feel free.

[go-turkeygobbler53]

Nice to know it shows!

I was surprised when my young nextdoor neighbor called me her "Delicate Flower" and later a "Pansy!" I asked her if she knew what the slang of Pansy meant and here is her reply...

She KNEW without me saying anything that would have given me up, apparently it was by my language and mannerisms only!

Things have gotten far more interesting since I divulged details about my past including Charlotte who taught me to love the taste and texture of my own CUM - every drop that came out had to go back in so I wouldn't run out!

I also told her about Nancy who handed me a pair of baby blue panties with lace ruffles and 4 attached garters before we hit the bed the first time. That was a brand new sensation and how she KNEW it was right for me still eludes me. She added many more items as time went by.

Things got really spicy when I told her about Jennifer who also dressed me and added many MANY more layers to my cross dressing as well as indulging CUM from other sources!

Damn I've had an exciting life!!!!!

[secondbeatsongs]

[kumakuma-circus]

investitism team.

[xellandria]

Week one of @stranglethorn-bonfire-bash's art bash this year is "Hidden Treasure" and for once, I immediately had an idea of what I wanted to do: make friends! Literally! A quick walk over to the local fabric/craft store (after making sure they had what I wanted via the internet) and I had the materials to make 31 gold coins and 30 silver ones. I ended up only making 20 gold and 6 silver because the pens I was using all kept running out of ink, and at some point I'd decided I'd had enough, heh.

Of course, now I have almost an entire can of greyish-gold spray paint that I gotta find a use for...

[outlying-hyppocrate]

well. did you fucking miss me.

[crowroboros]

One thing I especially love about Tears of the Kingdom is the focus on the leadup to each of the Temples as being a major component to the Zelda dungeon experience. There's an added emphasis on getting to the dungeon that the other games don't have to the same degree, with some notable exceptions.

The Rising Island Chain and the subsequent dive into the eye of the cyclone for The Stormwind Ark and the Ring Ruins, Zonai Ruins, and Dragonhead Isles exploration and investigation for the Construct Factory/Spirit Temple especially stuck with me, and I am very glad that Echoes of Wisdom has been keeping up that trend.

[cafecitowriter]

In Her Embrace (I Was King) - Steggy Fic Preview

It's Day 6 of Steggy Week at @steggyfanevents (and possibly my favourite theme) WIP & Updates!

For this one I decided to go a bit out of the box (for me at least) and share a snippet of a WIP that I haven't even started posting yet. The prologue itself is already over 10K words so it's going to be a big one, and pretty plot heavy, so I need to make sure I don't write myself into a corner three chapters in.

Fic Summary: After an Old Law is invoked, Steve Rogers is denied his rightful claim to the throne. In order for power to remain with the Rogers bloodline, he must marry a Council-approved suitor by age 27.

As the Widow who is trained from childhood to be the Crown Prince's Captain, his protector, Peggy makes it her own mission to find a way around this law - all the while vetting any potential prospects that crop up in the meantime (for the sake of the Crown, of course).

But in a desperate bid to keep Steve safe, Peggy unwittingly becomes entangled in a larger political scheme, where she learns that her enemies have been lurking in the walls of the palace itself, threatening not only their home, but also the bond that Steve and Peggy have built since they were born.

Fic Sneak Peek (Steve and Peggy are ~15 years old)

Peggy rushed through the palace halls, her heart racing as she turned the corner toward the staircase that would get her closer to the West Wing. However her trajectory was stalled when she ran into Bucky and Natasha - literally.

“Woah, what’s going on?” Bucky asked after she’d regained her balance. “Where’s the fire?”

“And where’s Steve?” Nat asked.

“Shut up,” Peggy hissed, clamping her hand over her mouth. “Someone will hear you.”

“Did you lose Steve?” Bucky asked with a raised eyebrow as she lowered her hand.

“I did not lose Steve.”

“Then where is he?” Nat cheeked.

Peggy let out a slow breath as she narrowed her eyes at both of them.

“He is in a place that I will be in very soon, and until that happens, no one is going to know that Steve left my sights for even a second. Not the Queen and especially not my mother. Or worse, Melina.”

“You’re really hard on Melina,” Natasha pointed out.

“She’s the one that’s hard on me” Peggy scoffed. “Just don’t tell her, alright? Or anyone at all? Please?”

“You know I won’t say anything, but you better find him, Carter,” Bucky told her. “Before Jarvis does.”

“I don’t need to find him, I know exactly where his Highness is.”

Without bothering to hear a response from either of them, Peggy swiftly made her way to the library in the West Wing, the one closest to Steve’s bedroom, then, upon confirming no one else was there, sprinted up the three flights of stairs to the restricted history section.

“Really, Steve?” she groaned, looking around where he had at least half a dozen books open and sprawled out on the floor around him. To his left he had his tablet that he was making notes into. “Again?”

“Hey, you found me,” he grinned before looking at his watch. “Record time, too. Only took you about fifteen years to get it under five minutes.”

“And yet you still managed to make just as much mess as usual.”

“One of my many talents,” he winked, ignoring her arched eyebrow.

Peggy snorted and shook her head as he started speaking.

“Well come on, Captain, grab a book and I’ll catch you up so you can help me find a way around this stupid law.”

She couldn’t help but smile at his use of her newly appointed title, and sat down across from him, picking up the closest book.

“You think the answer to the Council accepting you as the rightful heir lies in the War of Nations?” she asked as she glanced at the title.

“The only other time the law was invoked was right before the War began,” he shrugged. “Might just be a coincidence, but it’s worth a shot.”

“If you say so,” Peggy shrugged in agreement. The more time that passed by, the more desperate they were both becoming. She chanced another glance at Steve, who had returned his attention back to his book, a furrow in his brows.

She ignored the flip her stomach did and focused on the book in her hands in earnest.