#toxic ship syndrome

[learningfromlosing]

You know why I don't ship Melissa and Shauna?

Bc you're allowed to rescind consent when you don't enjoy it anymore. Period.

You know why I don't think any of the arguments about her still being in love with Shauna matter?

Bc shes allowed to not have something in her life if she knows it's bad for her even if she "wants" it.

You know why I don't think Melissa is lying about getting better and putting it behind her?

She healed in creative and different ways bc she was still holding up her end of keeping the secret. She knows what's important to the group, respected that, and she still found ways to help herself too. She found someone to talk through some of things she couldn't by herself with. She found other resources even if she couldn't get a real therapist. She reached out for help in the only ways she could.

You don't need to erase things to be able to live with them in a healthy way. You don't need to talk about everything with everyone else to be able to move past it.

She isn't a different person bc she didn't tell them her birth name. Do I really need to explain why not using your birth name doesn't make your life any less valid?

Not glorifying your trauma doesn't mean you're ignoring it. Not talking about your trauma with everyone doesn't mean you're not actively working though it.

She questions herself constantly. That's what it's like to heal. It's never gone, but you can side step the spiraling if you're mindful enough. "This isn't some kind of survivors guilt or pity marriage, or shit maybe it is."

And faking your death to get away from your violently abusive ex girlfriend doesn't mean you still love her. I would actually argue the opposite.

[stolasbuckzo]

Dustmoth / Radiohusk fans: Eww! You like Huskerdust/Stolitz? That’s so toxic! Don’t you know that’s Stockholm Syndrome?

Stolitz / Huskerdust fans:

[itsachu]

[HxH] Pretty Eyes - Owl x Original Character (Chapter 2)

[Hunter x Hunter | Owl x OC | Dark Romance] Psychological | Thriller | Torture-turned-Tension | Slow Burn

⚠️ Content & Trigger Warnings

This story contains themes of psychological manipulation, captivity, interrogation, trauma responses, slow-burn tension, and dark romance. Please proceed with caution if you are sensitive to emotional coercion, threats of violence, or power imbalance dynamics.

---

Summary

Captured after the massacre of his comrades, Owl (once a proud member of the Shadow Beasts) finds himself in the hands of a woman who is not quite Troupe, not quite mafia, but undeniably dangerous. Aracnid doesn’t need brute force to break him. She’s patient. Calculating. And she wants answers for the Troupe whose partnered with her own group. But what begins as an interrogation slowly shifts into something more intricate... a web of curiosity, tension, and fascination.

And it all begins with his eyes.

---

Chapter 2: Smoke and Silk

The room was dimly lit, the haze of Musha’s cigarette smoke curling lazily in the air like a dream refusing to die. She leaned against the far wall, towering and draped in a dark silk kimono with lavender hair piled into a loose bun, cat-eye glasses sat on the bridge of her nose with spectacle chains hanging on each side. She looked like she hadn’t moved in a while.. but the sharp gleam of her pink eyes betrayed her constant awareness. Beside her, a much smaller girl sat quietly on the edge of a crate, legs swinging in quiet rhythm. Cecilia. Her oversized hoodie swallowed her small frame, and strands of muted pink hair fell over wide eyes and braces that peeked through slightly parted lips. She didn’t speak, just stared, fidgeting with the strings of her hoodie as if trying to disappear into it.

Aracnid stood near the door, gloves in her hands, watching with reserved poise.

Then the door creaked open.

Nobunaga entered first, hand resting near his sword hilt. His expression was tight, annoyed… but not quite furious. That was always more dangerous. “You told us he’s dead,” he said flatly, “I don’t see a body.”

Aracnid didn’t blink. “That’s because there’s nothing left to show.”

Shalnark slipped in behind him-- expression curious, almost amused. “That’s odd. I remember his ability being… pretty unique. Kinda inconvenient, too,” His smile didn’t reach his eyes, “Chrollo was considering taking it. You know how he is with things that annoy him.”

Aracnid shrugged lightly, letting her gloves slide between her fingers. “Then he should’ve said so sooner. I wasn’t told to preserve anything.”

“You snapped his neck,” Nobunaga muttered, eyes narrowed, “Before we could even confirm.”

“He talked,” Aracnid replied in a smooth and calm tone despite the other's rising irritation, “Everything you wanted. He broke faster than expected, so I got what I needed. Then he tried to use his ability again. Reflex, maybe. I wasn’t in the mood for games.”

Shalnark tilted his head. “That’s a hell of a call to make alone.”

“I didn’t make it alone. I made it before he got clever.”

“Tch-- clever?” Nobunaga’s tone finally cracked, voice rising as he took a step forward, “That bastard locked me in a sack like some grocery item. I couldn’t even move. You know how humiliating that was?!” He jabbed a thumb to his chest. “I was this close to splitting him clean in half, and you took that from me.”

Aracnid’s stare didn’t waver. “Would you have done it cleanly?”

“What?”

“You’d have taken your time. Dragged it out. Made a mess. I didn’t have the luxury.”

Nobunaga sneered, jaw tight. “You got a smart mouth.”

“Still here, though,” she said, almost gently.

Shalnark gave a single quiet laugh and ran a hand through his hair. “She’s got a point. You’re still breathing, and so’s Chrollo. Maybe that’s all that matters.”

“Not to me,” Nobunaga snapped.

A beat passed in the room.

Musha exhaled slowly, the ember of her cigarette flaring like an irritated sigh. “We’ll deal with the alliance fallout if there is any,” she said to Arachnid, “But next time, maybe don’t make that call without looping us in.”

Aracnid didn’t respond right away. Her gaze lingered on Nobunaga, who looked like he still had more to say, but she held it without flinching. Eventually, he scoffed and turned on his heel, muttering louder this time, “Tch. Would’ve felt a hell of a lot better watching him crawl before I gutted him.” Shalnark followed, hands in his pockets, his smirk fading as he passed the girls in silence.

The door shut behind them.

Cecilia didn’t move. Just looked down at her shoes, lips pressed together. Musha stubbed out her cigarette against the stone wall. “You’re lucky you’re pretty,” she muttered to Aracnid, “Because that was reckless.”

Aracnid didn’t argue. Didn’t apologize. She just pulled the gloves back onto her hands and turned toward the hall, where her secret was still tied to the chair… and still breathing.

༶•┈┈⛧┈♛┈⛧┈┈•༶

The echo of the door’s closure still lingered in the air by the time Aracnid made her way down the corridor.

The hideout was quiet now... creepily so. Only the occasional drip of moisture somewhere deep in the walls broke the silence. Her boots clicked softly against the stone floor, the hem of her cloak grazing the steps as she descended into the lower level. It was cooler here, and the stillness held weight. Down here, secrets didn’t echo... they sank.

She reached the reinforced door at the end of the hall and paused. Her fingers lingered on the iron handle for a beat longer than necessary. The image of Owl, still strapped to that chair, sunglasses somehow still perched on his nose, flashed in her mind. She hadn't removed them... not yet. There was something in his reaction to her that made her hold off. A twitch. A tension. Something worth pressing on.

She opened the door.

The room was dim, lit by a single candle set on a shelf behind him. The flame cast a dull glow across the stone walls and danced faintly across his frame. He hadn’t moved much (not that he could) but his head lifted when she stepped in. His shoulders were tense, like a cornered animal watching a shadow cross the threshold.

“Still breathing,” she said softly, as though confirming something to herself. Owl didn’t respond. His mouth remained set in a tight line, jaw clenched, but his eyes, barely visible behind the dark lenses, tracked her with sharp awareness. There was exhaustion in the slope of his shoulders, but he hadn’t unraveled. Not yet.

Aracnid stepped closer, slow and silent. She circled him, letting her presence settle like a shroud. The scent of smoke from Musha’s cigarette still clung faintly to her cloak, mixing with something sweeter... faint perfume or perhaps incense. She stopped behind him, letting the silence stretch, then leaned in just enough that her voice reached the shell of his ear.

“They think you’re dead.”

He didn’t flinch.

Aracnid’s gloved fingers lifted one side of his sunglasses, just slightly. Just enough to see the sharp, dark brown eye beneath. Small iris. Dilated pupil. Not emotionless. No... he was thinking too much for that.

“Hmm,” she murmured.

Then she let the lens fall back in place.

She moved again, this time walking around to face him directly. The candlelight caught the delicate detail in her gloves, the lace trim trailing over her wrists like spider silk. “You should thank me,” she said, “But I won’t ask for it.”

Owl’s voice was a rasp, dry from disuse. “Why?”

That single word wasn’t desperate or fearful. It was bitter.

Aracnid tilted her head. “Because I wanted to.”

She didn’t explain. Didn’t offer more. Just walked back to the far end of the room and stopped at the table there-- an old wooden thing with carved legs and a ceramic bowl sitting idle atop it. She poured water from a pitcher into a metal cup. It wasn’t warm, but it wasn’t cold either. Functional.

She brought it back and held it near his lips, watching him as he hesitated.

“Not poisoned,” she said, amused, “You’re more useful alive.”

After a long pause, he took the water.

When the cup was drained, she pulled it away and crouched down in front of him. Close. Not uncomfortably so, but just enough that he could see the faint shimmer in her eyes again, barely reflecting the candlelight.

“You’ll stay here until I decide what happens next,” she said, brushing a loose strand of hair back beneath her hood, “And in return, you’ll behave.”

Silence stretched between them. Long. Deafening.

Then, finally, he muttered, “I’m already dead. Right?”

A faint smirk curved her lips.

“Exactly.”

[dustbunnylair]

Killing Stalking and How Media Has Affected The Manhwa (SPOILERS FOR KILLING STALKING!!)

TW: Mentions of r*pe, m*rder, CSA, SA, being m0lested, incest, homophobia, fetishization of gay people, romanticization/glorification of abusive relationships, Stockholm syndrome

If you are going in on this without knowing what Killing Stalking is, then let me explain. Killing Stalking is a psychological horror and thriller manhwa from South Korea written by author Koogi, it ran from March 3rd, 2016 to March 22nd, 2019. The Manhwa is about two men, Yoon Bum, is described as a frail, feminine gay young man with a round or baby face, with dark circles under his eyes, implied to be eyebags, when reading the story, even if it’s simply the first chapter, you will find out that Yoon Bum is the “stalking” in Killing Stalking. Then Oh Sangwoo, is described as a handsome, charismatic, straight young man, he resembles the “killing” in Killing Stalking. The manhwa has been quite popular since it came out, but it became popular on social media, such as TikTok, in 2019-2021. Unfortunately, this manhwa wasn’t getting popular for being a well-written psychological horror but instead was being watered down to a Yaoi. If I were to go over the entire Manhwa, we’d be here all day, so if you do want to look into it, go ahead.

The two main characters of Killing Stalking have mental illness representation, which plays a key part in the series. Yoon Bum struggles with hypersexuality, Stockholm syndrome, Borderline Personality Disorder (BPD), and derealization. Sangwoo is a sociopath/has Anti-Social Personality Disorder (ASPD) and a narcissist.

Both Yoon Bum and Sangwoo had very traumatic lives as kids, Yoon Bum’s parents died when he was young so his grandma and uncle took care of him. His uncle would beat him with a belt, starve him and even eventually rape him. 

Sangwoo’s dad was neglectful, and meanwhile, his mother took care of him, what was seemingly an innocent and wholesome mother-son relationship, would take a dark turn for the worst. His mother killed his dad when Sangwoo was a teenager and helped her hide the body, she ended up gaslighting him into believing that Sangwoo killed his own father, not her. He and his mother got closer, she would call him “babe” which she would call her husband, Sangwoo was obviously uncomfortable with it but never directly told her, yet he did confront her, asking “You’re doing that on purpose, aren’t you?”. His mother tried to kill him just like she did to her husband. He ended up passed out, waking up tied up in a basement. This basement led to his SA by his mother when he woke up. Sangwoo ended up breaking free in which his mother would sob and say she was sorry, it is implied that she killed herself, stabbing a knife into her neck. Sangwoo’s trauma played a huge part not only in the Manhwa but also in the fandom. 

Moving onto the romanticization and glorification of the relationship between Sangwoo and Yoon Bum, and how the reasoning behind their relationship is foreshadowed. Sangwoo says in one of the last chapters that he should’ve killed Yoon Bum from the start and he regrets not doing so. The reason Sangwoo kept Yoon Bum alive is for sexual pleasure and the fact that Yoon Bum resembled Sangwoo’s mother, Eunseo. This is foreshadowed multiple times within the series, as shown below.

If you don’t believe it because of the foreshadowing, then maybe the final Q&A of Killing Stalking will give you an answer, screenshots shown below.

Honestly, I feel like someone will tell me that no one has ever shipped Yoon Bum and Sangwoo, nor has anyone liked Sangwoo or labeled the Manhwa as a Yaoi/Bl, but I do in fact have evidence:

Killing Stalking, in my opinion, is genuinely well-written for a psychological horror. I hate to see it be watered down to a Yaoi, even when the author said it wasn’t. Not to mention that Killing Stalking claims to have a live adaptation someday. To be honest, as a “fan” of Killing Stalking, I really don’t want it to have a drama made about it. It will just make the fandom rise again and I personally feel that any time a K-drama, anime, Donghua, etc. gets popular, especially among Western countries like America, it gets overly popular in a bad way. Take Squid Games, My Hero Academia, Jujutsu Kaisen, and many more shows as examples of that. Not to mention that in Korea it is extremely hard to get lgbtq+ characters on-screen let alone get r*ped, have intercourse, or touch each other in any sexual or romantic way.

I’d also like to make it clear that I am NOT upset that it’s a gay ship, I am upset that it is an abusive/toxic relationship. Popular ships in shows (specifically in Asian media) are a topic for another time, thank you if you read this far throughout my yapping. Have a good day, and do not live in delusion like Yoon Bum and Sangwoo shippers lol

Where I got my information:

https://killing-stalking.fandom.com/wiki/Oh_Sangwoo

https://killing-stalking.fandom.com/wiki/Yoon_Bum

https://killing-stalking.fandom.com/wiki/Killing_Stalking_Wiki

+ Killing Stalking the Manhwa itself, you can read on Lezhin Comics or Mangago

[cecilstedmansbabydaddy]

I am so normal about Pickman and Hancock like I am totally cool and normal about them (I'm not) (I need to be stopped) (You need to put me down like a dog)

[raphieeee]

CW: Stockholm Syndrome, Manipulation, implied Pedophilia, dead dove, no hood ending

Raph gets taken by the Shredder. Being a smart man, he doesn’t leave Raph with the other prisoners and instead finds a whole new place just for storing him. It’s Tiger Claw that is in charge of interrogating him and he waste no time in breaking Raphael apart. He starts simply by leaving him isolated, bringing him plain food that will sustain him but has no taste and then sets up a water feeder so he won’t dehydrate. He gets two other Foot meme ears to beat the mutant bloody, saying nothing, then leave him to lick his wounds. It’s after a week of this that he truely starts his interrogating, using the one tool he has always known to aid him.

Manipulation.

Tiger Claw knows that Raphael is a tough and hard hearted man, but he’s seen what he would do for his brothers and even strangers that would wish him dead, so he uses it. He walks into the room and acts shocked at his bloodied state, pretending he didn’t know it was going to happen. The turtle snaps at him but he doesn’t respond yet. The two Foot soldiers don’t show up after that for two days until he makes a strategic move, acting as if he’s on the phone to someone but only one sentence is clear as he shouts it, “There is a difference between killing a child and torturing one!” His hearing tells him that the turtles breath hitches. Tiger notices as he brings the food in, acting cold, that the turtle watches him like a hawk. From there, he lets Raph think that he’s working him down, making him feel bad for the harm he causes and truely convincing him to be better. Tiger Claw acts angry about it with an obvious denial in his voice, only to find himself grinning as soon as the heavy door shuts behind him. The lack of taste and noise outside of Tiger’s voice, as well as the only light being behind a door and no bedding around… it makes Raphael as weak in his mind as his body slowly becomes. He probably doesn’t remember telling him where their lair was, revealing it was somewhere in the sewer, but Tiger claw brings him a small chocolate for it and soon they begin trading ‘secrets’ that Tiger tells Shredder if it can be of help. He lets the men come in to hurt him, saying he has no choice as Shredder is going to visit once a week, subtly ‘apologising’ by giving him disinfectant and little sweets. He brings him a single blanket and pretends to act a sort of shy-arrogant as he takes it away before the Shredder arrives. When Raph inevitably breaks down, he doesn’t care that it’s his enemy who comforts him, not when his body is warms and soft, a direct opposite of his cell. The final test before Tiger Claw wraps up his big plan is to have his two goons ‘accidentally’ leave the door open.

Raph novices instantly and moves towards it only to hesitate, looking back at his blanket and closing the door while he’s still inside. Tiger disables the camera and finally, finally, lies to the turtle and claims his family was killed. Tiger acts guilty and sorry but had to hold back a proud pur as Raph instantly assured him it wasn’t his fault and he knows he wouldn’t do that to him, having full trust in the bigger mutant. Tiger picks him up and takes him out of the room, acting as if he’s hiding and panicky as he takes him out of the country, making fake calls to the Shredder to say he’s got an emergency at his homeland that he needs to get to.

Raphael confesses that he has nothing with out Tiger and tells him everything about the Kraang and Splinter. After two years living together in Japan, Raphael truely believes he is in love with Tiger who proposes to him on their ‘aniversey’ and the Shredder is killed by Leonardo Hamato in an scar of revenge for killing his brother.

[paradise-perseveres]

deeply unserious doodles (April 4, 2025)

the spirit of jaspis compelled me to draw until 1am (it’s been ten years)

[sortaferal]

Funny enough, back when I wrote Akande, the best ship adventure I ever had was with a 76 roleplayer, which is what turned me onto the brainwashing aspect. They had a power struggle, and there was so much sexual and romantic tension involved, but it was also really unhealthy and obsessive. It was a fight for a long time, and eventually Jack lost and got brainwashed. It wasn't even through chemical changes, because that would ruin the fun for Akande. Instead, he did it through a lot of manipulation. It was a long con. Eventually, he got Jack attached, not necessarily even in a positive way. And from there, he used manipulation of his emotions and loneliness to control him entirely. It was all about the conquest of a rival he viewed as an equal in power. Honestly you wouldn't need to change much to make that Gabe instead.

an AU of this would so *chef's kiss*. Either during Overwatch or Post Swiss and it'll definitely work out for Gabe yeahyeah. Akande has got such a silver tongue, and if you grab the man at his lowest point, yeah it'd be fairly easy to do. I love the idea, anon. Also bless you for deciding to pick up Akande, we need more Doomfist writers in this fandom.

[miniimight]

DISAPPEARING ACT (II) .

part one

with married!rindou + fem!reader

warnings you've been asking for it so here it is almost a year later 💀 beware of subpar sequel syndrome and toxic relationships and alcohol and i dont know what im doing

bottles and bottles and bottles.

rindou's best friend was alcohol. any shape, any size, any kind. he wanted to drown himself in the buzz.

“god, rindou.” ran leaned over his knees, his elbows propping his torso up as he peered down at his baby brother. “would you get off the floor?”

rindou ignored him, laying on his back in the middle of his brother’s expansive top-floor apartment. "no."

ran rolled his eyes and walked away.

rindou sighed. he'd been at ran's place for the past few months. his house just felt... wrong. the light filtering in illuminated the dust suspended in the air, as if the house was abandoned. he didn't know where anything was. all he could think to do was sleep, shower, eat. takeout boxes littered the floor and he didn't have the energy to clean up after himself.

he sat up. "can't you talk to her for me?"

ran raised an eyebrow. "you aren't fifteen. you can talk to your own wife."

"i don't think she wants to be my wife anymore." rindou mumbled. "ran, she hates me."

ran frowned at his brother's distress. he hated seeing him this way. "she doesn't hate you, rin."

rindou whipped to face his brother with an exasperated expression. "she made it more than clear when she walked out on me when i was trying to make it up to her."

ran pursed his lips, giving rindou an unimpressed look.

rindou's expression darkened. "what?"

"you walked back into her life one day and randomly decided to care again." ran mused. "i'm just saying, your word means nothing to her."

rindou remained silent.

"rindou?" ran pressed.

"yeah, yeah, shut up. i get it." rindou scoffed. but he got off the floor. "i just..." he shoved his hands in his pockets, looking awkwardly out of place. "i don't know what do to. she doesn't respond to calls or texts. i think she blocked me."

"you know where she is?"

rindou rolled his eyes. "of course i know where she is."

"you love her?" ran stood.

rindou hummed. "more than anything."

"then show her. simple as that. but don't be stupid and think she's gonna come running into your arms again." ran slid his hands into his pockets. "that ship has sailed."

rindou glared at the ground. "everything i did—that i do—is for her. for the three of us. i wouldn't want—"

"i know, rin." ran threw an arm around his brother's shoulder. "i know. you do good. you just have to make sure she knows. you'll grow closer together again in no time."

"yeah, i'll do anything." rindou mumbled under his breath.

ran patted his back before walking off. rindou sighed, picking up another bottle.

.

a few months later and rindou seemed to be stuck in the same spot. he never leaves ran's house, only to release some steam in the form of violently and brutally killing people. every time he collapses into his brother's arms afterwards.

ran grunted as he threw his little brother into the backseat of his car. he yanked the latter's suit jacket off and inspected his skin. it was littered with purple bruises. "you're too reckless, rin. more than usual." ran frowned. rin never bruised this easily.

"i won the fight, didn't i?" rindou protested sleepily, shaking ran's hands off him and rifling through the cooler. his hands brushed over the cool bottles of booze, as if in a trance.

ran shut the car door, rapping his knuckles on the partition. "hospital."

rindou sat up just a little, popping the top of one of the bottles. "what are—"

ran snatched the bottle from rindou, dumping it out the car window, before locking the cooler. "this has got to stop. you drink too much, rindou. you're not doing yourself any favors here."

rindou scowled, drowsy. "what does it matter?"

ran groaned. "stop with that. get the fuck up and go see her."

rindou got quiet and slumped into his seat. he couldn't find the courage to see you again. he was scared that you were right about you two, that it was impossible to return to the way things were.

.

you sigh. "i know you're there."

it was a relatively quiet morning. you sat outside your regular coffee shop, enjoying a warm drink before wasting away yet another day to regret and despair.

you turned around in your seat ever so slightly to catch a glimpse of him.

ran haitani.

"i know you know." he smiled softly, sipping on an espresso.

you rolled your eyes, turning back in your seat. ran always said the stupidest things.

due to the abrupt nature of which you left, you had to find an emergency place. thankfully, a friend took you in with a big warm welcome and a long tight hug. you cried in their arms, releasing all the emotions you were so adamant on hiding from rindou. you apologized for dumping your burden on them. they didn't care.

you remembered the first time your brother-in-law showed up on your friend's doorstep. it was a few months since you left. he was dressed as a deliveryman, easily charming your friend into letting him stay over for a drink. you came home from errands, only to find a strange man in the kitchen.

once you saw those rings, though, you knew. a deliveryman couldn't afford all that gold.

he's been tracking you ever since you left. in the back of your mind, you knew that rindou would never be unaware of your location, but it was just juvenile to send his older brother in his place to 'keep tabs on you.'

now, year after your exit, ran was still popping up every now and again. a year since rindou declared he'd get you back, another year of empty promises.

the time made you realize that, yet again, you were still waiting for him.

"are you going to say something?" you asked.

"no."

"you never say anything—"

"just did."

"—so why are you here?"

you hear the chair scraping against the concrete as he gets up from his table, and the clopping of his shoes as he strolls closer to yours. you drops himself into the chair across from you, leaning back. "just looking out for my little sister, s'all."

you stared at him, something close to nostalgia and longing stirring in your chest. your eyes dropped down to your lap. "not your sister."

he downed the rest of his espresso and set it back on the table with a little clink.

a heavy silence weighed on the both of you as you avoided the elephant in the room like the plague.

he breathed deeply. "y/n—"

you held up a hand. "ran, it's been a year. let's all just move on."

"you're miserable. he's miserable. why not be miserable together?"

you raised your eyebrow.

ran droops a little. "he loves you."

you narrow your eyes, bitterness spilling from your lips. "oh! that's why you're here instead of him." you shook you head. "really, let it go."

"look," he groaned, running his hands through his hair stressfully. "i don't wanna be hovering over your shoulder anymore than you want me to. and yes, in an ideal world, rindou would be here in my place. i know for sure he wants to, fuck, he won't shut up about it." he laughed tensely, a light titter that was far from amusement.

he put both elbows on the table, dropping his face into his hands. "holy shit, y/n. he's doing so bad."

you chewed on your lip, jumping your first instinct to ask more.

"i know you think he was choosing to not be with you, but that's just your perspective, y/n. so far from the truth." he gripped his hair tightly. suddenly you noticed the bags under his eyes, the puffiness. the creased eyebrows and the deep frown.

you drew back as you watched ran collapse just a little before your eyes. it unnerved you.

you shifted uncomfortably in your seat. "i'm gonna go—" you stood, grabbing your bag.

ran's hand shot out and grabbed your wrist. "wait, wait. you know i wouldn't beg you if it wasn't really important."

you stared at him, a looming dread settling in your stomach. "ran, what's..." you had to laugh nervously, his slender hand ice cold over your skin. "you're scaring me. whatever he's going through—he's fine. he'll be fine. it's... just a breakup." even you didn't believe the words coming from your mouth.

since you knew the brothers from middle school, you've never seen ran haitani ever beg someone for something, or even be in a position to depend on someone else that much.

he pursed his lips. "rindou's refusing surgery."

.

rindou paced through the hospital wing. where was the exit again?

he needed to grab his phone. he stopped in the hallway, catching a glimpse of the break room.

he stumbled inside, ripping open the fridge and rifling around for something. anything. behind all the containers of lunches, he found a bottle of beer. not his standard, but it was something. and he needed it to feel something other than nothing.

he cracked it open and chugged as much as he could without throwing himself off balance, but he collapsed onto the couch anyways.

he heard, distantly, his nurse yell after him, running to help him sit upright.

she glanced at his face. "we told you to stay in your room, and only water from now on." she paused. "you're crying. any pain?"

"yeah," he slurred.

.

you blinked. "huh?"

ran stood up beside you. "acute liver failure. from a steady year of drinking himself to death. doctor said he needed surgery to cut off the bad part that's making him sick. and his dumbass is refusing to do it."

you blanched. you're kidding.

"he's been drinking since..." ran inhaled deeply, eyes squinting as he racked his memory. "since he turned a teenager, really. only gotten worse in the past year." he looked at you.

your mind was stuck on the death part. he's not supposed to die. he's not supposed to leave your life forever.

"he'll die without it." he said quietly.

"oh my gosh." you squeezed your eyes shut, pressing your palms into your eyes. "you're not kidding?"

his gaze hardened. "i know you want nothing to do with him, but you're the last resort. since you're still married, you're his medical proxy. tell the doctors that he's unfit to make this decision and get him to do that fucking surgery."

"how long have you known that—"

"does it matter?" he cut you off.

yes. why didn't you tell me sooner?

"will you come or not? if you do, i'll get you your own place, with furnishings and everything." ran offered. "you can leave him behind forever, promise."

"no, no..." you stared at him briefly, a little hurt. you didn't need to be compensated for helping rindou. you didn't want to be.

you felt the dread settle. it rooted quickly and deeply as you came to terms with what was happening. you left him in a hurry, and your resolve was strong, but that pesky feeling of longing would just not let you go.

it kept reminding you that you've been through too much together to give up on each other now. that you really loved him.

was rindou a bad husband? yes.

did he deserve to die? no.

was he allowed to die? no.

.

the nurse dragged him back to bed, and after a quick call from ran, they suddenly had the idea of handcuffing him to the railings so he doesn't run off and shorten his lifespan again.

rindou's blown eyes focused on the ceiling. as much as he could. his vision was blurring. the alcohol wasn't working. the emptiness in his stomach was still there. but he kept reaching for it. the burn of it was supposed to keep him warm but each day he grew colder.

his doctor rushed to his side, quickly glancing over his stats before leaning over his bedside, imploring him. "you're dying, haitani. this surgery will save your life. success rates—"

"stop saying that shit..." he groaned. "i don't fucking care."

a gentle knock on the door caught his fuzzy attention.

"doctor?" you chirped softly, ran standing behind you.

holy shit, rindou thought. i'm dead. cuz he just thought he heard your voice.

"yes?" the doctor replied.

you held out your hand. "hi. mrs. haitani," you introduced yourself.

"o-oh..." the doctor shook your hand delicately.

rindou shot up in bed, as much as he could without the handcuffs restricting him. "y/n?"

"yeah," you dropped your bag onto his bedside table. you smoothed his hair away from his forehead, gently pushing him back against the bed.

he stared at you in his delirium, watching you like you were his savior, his angel.

"rindou," you told him. "you are doing this surgery."

he stared for a bit longer, committing every detail of your face to memory and drowning in the wells of your eyes. you gave him an expectant look, and he slowly nodded before the motion became feverish.

"yes. yes, whatever you want." he quickly agreed. "holy shit."

"that easy? seriously?" ran deadpanned, crossing his arms in exasperation.

"holy shit, ran." rindou whispered. "is she really here?" he stared at you as if you were some ghost. your heart tensed thinking of how he got to this point.

ran rolled his eyes.

you finalized things with the doctor and confirmed the surgery before you nodded to the brothers. "well... that's that."

rindou sat up in his bed, the handcuffs clattering against the metal framing. “stay. please, stay with me.”

“i’m gonna— yeah.” ran held up his hands and quickly left the room.

you couldn’t do much but stare at him. he looked even worse than the last time you saw him. his hair had grown out, stubble poked through, and the bags under his eyes were concerning.

“please, stay a moment?” he asked. you nodded and soundlessly sat on the bed. you frowned at his handcuffs.

“what happened?”

“i wandered around again so the nurses chained me to the bed.”

“ah.”

an awkward silence passed.

“i’m sorry.” rindou whispered.

you kept your eyes trained on the floor, hiding the surprise on your face at his quick apology.

“i made a promise to you when we were kids, but i never grew up. i always knew you’d be waiting for me. until you weren’t.” he mumbled. “and i panicked.”

he scooted closer to you and you heard the cuffs clang against the framing once again. “i’m sorry most of all for not running after you.”

you glared at the ground. “you said you would.”

“i did.” he whispered. “baby, i’m sorry. after this surgery, i promise i’ll change. i’m not asking you to teach me—that’s not on you. just… nudge me when i’m being an asshole. guide me to be better. talk to me, tell me what i do wrong, and i’ll fix it. i swear this will never happen again.”

you met his eyes and suddenly you were seventeen again, locking pinkies to seal your vows to each other. “if you let me down a second time—”

“no.” rindou denied vehemently. “no, there won’t be. it’s me and you, forever.”

you gave him a look. you stood and fished a bobby pin out of your bag, holding the cuffs up and fiddling the pin around in the keyhole. within seconds, his wrists were released.

“you’re pretty good at that.” rindou said.

“i mean, i do have a crime boss for a husband,” you shrugged.

he grinned and a boyish chuckle bubbled up. “yeah you do.” free from his shackles, he grabbed you and pulled you down onto him.

.

© miniimight ! thanks for reading <3

[yunsound]

For any Ne Zha 2 fans and especially Oubing fans, may I recommend: Shangmei Oubing

Oubing (Ne Zha x Ao Bing) is probably the biggest ship in China right now. I'm sure we can all understand why. Soulmates, red blue, enemies to lovers, friends to lovers, angst, hurt, comfort, THE WHOLE PACKAGE DEAL.

Oubing is generally a very sweet, vanilla and heartwarming ship. For those of us that like the darker stuff, though, I have something for you: 上美藕饼, or Shangmei Oubing.

What TF is a Shangmei? Shang-mei is an abbreviation for Shanghai Animation Studio, a company that made many beloved animated childhood films in the 60s-90s. They made the most iconic Ne Zha film, which is the 1979 Ne Zha Nao Hai (Ne Zha Conquers the Sea).

In the 1979 version, Ne Zha and Ao Bing are definitely not friends. Ne Zha plucks out Ao Bing's tendons and skins and kills him, and Ao Bing eats children. Ao Bing 1979 is also kind of really ugly (his dragon form is really pretty though!)

This doesn't exactly seem like ship material right? You're correct.

BUT!

Shanghai released a short promotional video to celebrate a collaboration. The promotional video featured Ne Zha and Ao Bing from the 1979 version. In the video, Ne Zha didn't kill Ao Bing. No. In this video, Ne Zha and Ao Bing have a bit of a... scary dynamic.

You can probably find the video on Douyin or XHS, but in it, Ao Bing appears in a familiar-looking red wheelchair. He looks very different from his 1979 design- he looks more human, and he's in a half-dragon half-human form. Generally much prettier than his 1979 design.

Throughout the video, he wears a slightly terrified and miserable expression on his face. His phone screen is a selfie with him and Ne Zha in which he's smiling VERY awkwardly. Ne Zha, in fact, has opened up a seafood shop for the two of them.

Probably the biggest thing is that Ne Zha in this promotional video calls Ao Bing "Bingbing". Ao Bing also calls Ne Zha "Zhazha." So cute, right? Seems normal?

Well, in Ao Bing's phone screen saver, the selfie with him and Ne Zha involves him sitting on the wheelchair, smiling a pained smile. Ne Zha is hovering over his shoulder, smiling a very THREATENING smile.

Oh, and the wheelchair? The wheelchair isn't a wheelchair. It's Ne Zha's flying red sash, the Huntianling. Remember this sash obeys Ne Zha's will.

You can interpret this two ways.

Ao Bing has had a change of heart but is a little depressed because he's disabled now. He and Ne Zha are just good friends, and Ne Zha is taking care of him while also keeping a close eye on him to make sure he's not doing anything bad.

2. The popular interpretation.

Ne Zha, out of trauma (remember his dad is a huge asshole and he had to commit suicide very, very painfully) has formed an inappropriate attachment to Ao Bing, who is terrified out of his mind of Ne Zha, but is essentially prisoner because he can't even walk and is trapped within the red sash at all times.

Ne Zha forces Ao Bing to call him by a cutesy nickname, pretend that he loves Ne Zha, and essentially is speedrunning Stockholm Syndrome.

VERY toxic and very dark. Remember that Shangmei's Ao Bing is not a good innocent baby dragon- he eats children. Ne Zha is a protagonist who believes in justice, but he's also a kid who's been through a LOT of trauma and has never had a good family, whereas Ao Bing grew up cherished and loved.

For Ne Zha, this twisted love may be all he knows. For Ao Bing, he's terrified out of his mind, but knows he "deserves" this treatment- doomed to play happy family with his enemy, the enemy that crippled him.

I am NGL, I kind of like this dynamic. Being part of a big fandom is so satisfying. Whenever I'm full on sweet happy Oubing content I can switch to dark Shangmei Oubing content.

Shangmei Oubing is now one of the most popular ships in Ne Zha fandom. It's second only to regular Oubing. People also ship Ne Zha and Ao Bing in the 2021 New Gods Reborn movie: that ship is also really yummy. Oubing in general is yummy.

The dynamic I've seen the most often is as follows, with minor alterations depending on the specific fanwork:

After beating Ao Bing's ass, Ne Zha leaves him alive, but the rest of the myth and story proceed as usual (for the actual myth, see my Ne Zha post linked here). After Ne Zha commits suicide and is reborn in a body made of lotus roots, he ascends to godhood.

Ne Zha, traumatised and brimming with hate for his "father" Li Jing, searches for any source of love and affection he can find. He settles on Ao Bing, his old enemy- the little white dragon who was once so arrogant. He doesn't know exactly why: half jealousy that someone as evil as Ao Bing can have a better family than him, and half a desire for revenge since Ao Bing's death was what led him to have to commit suicide.

He kidnaps Ao Bing and keeps him captive on the red sash wheelchair. Ao Bing's father can't help him- he's already lost to Ne Zha multiple times, so Ao Bing can only resign himself to being Ne Zha's plaything.

Ne Zha, seeking love in any way he can get it, essentially begins to play house with Ao Bing- pretending they're best friends, calling each other cute nicknames (in some versions forcing Ao Bing to share a bed with him) and generally being very affectionate.

Ao Bing, terrified of Ne Zha, goes along and essentially lives a life of misery.

Ne Zha technically treats Ao Bing very well if he doesn't misbehave. If he does, however, well then...Ne Zha sometimes tortures Ao Bing emotionally (his trauma has made him ruthless and somewhat cruel) and humiliates him by making him crawl, since Ao Bing is now crippled. When Ao Bing cries or gets upset, Ne Zha tells him it's his penance for eating children.

Mpreg is a common tag, but more commonly it's Ao Bing finding some way to either commit suicide or he goes completely insane after years of living in fear. Ne Zha panics after seeing Ao Bing break down, and realises he's come to truly care for Ao Bing.

Toxicity adds flavour, everyone. Shangmei Oubing is actually so delicious.

[cjrae]

Do Not Feed The Trolls

So, with the Season 2 midpoint of Apothecary Diaries in our rear view mirror, I would first like to welcome all the anime-onlys who now understand why the rest of the fandom breaks into laughter every time the word "frog" appears.

Second, as is inevitable when anything popular goes to a wider audience, there comes a segment of the viewing populace who out and out dislike segments of the story.

Some of them simply were hoping the story would go a different direction.

Some of them are applying legitimate critiques to the material.

And some of them are out and out trolls.

You know the ones I'm talking about. The ones who look at a relationship with imbalanced power dynamics, scream, "Ew, A Toxic Relationship!" and immediately start lambasting anyone in the fandom who doesn't fall into line with their obviously "ethical" stance with no regard for for plot, characterization or theme.

These people are trolls, so here is your reminder. Please do not feed the trolls.

There is no benefit to trying to discuss the material with them, because this is not actually about Apothecary Diaries (or any other fandom, for that matter). They are making these broad, sweeping arguments in bad faith and when others attempt to argue, they apply shaming tactics to shut down discussion. Fall in line, or be labeled 'toxic' yourself.

These are the same bad faith arguments that lead to analysis such as "Beauty and the Beast is a story about Stockholm syndrome" or "Cinderella is a story about waiting for a prince to come and rescue a helpless girl." (And others, but these are the two examples that come immediately to mind). They rely on a very shallow interpretation of the source material and combine it with a veneer of social commentary.

But this has nothing to do with virtue. This is purity culture. This is about control. Specifically, it is about control over what people are "allowed" to enjoy. If the relationship does not act as a morality tale, then it is "problematic" and must be destroyed.

Trying to control others is the root of toxic behavior. In other words, they are telling on themselves.

Some of them can and will figure this out and eventually move on to more nuanced discussion about the issues they genuinely care about. But there are plenty of trolls out there who thrive on the attention they get when they toss a reductive, overly simplified moral argument into a sea of fans (especially if it involves any type of shipping) and bask in the churn as people who are enjoying the material feel like they need to defend themselves or the characters they've come to care about.

The only winning move is not to play.

[slaaverin]

Okay why are Jikookers literally elder people? 30 is not old at all, but I've seen children and teens in other shipper fandoms, not this one ...what brings y'all together like this 😂

But happy birthday love 😘 may you grow to see your generations 😊

Ahhh thank you so much for the birthday wishes anon 💜

What you're saying makes me wonder.

I have a jikooker friend who is 70+ 😂

But I believe some jikookers with greater levels of maturity can truly understand jikook's bond on a deep level, having been themselves in serious relationships and having more experience with relationships in general. So that's probably why.

It is true that tkkers are usually way younger and more immature 🧐 you're raising an interesting point!

People with some years behind them can understand better the human behaviour. Usually when you are in your teen years it is very common to experience toxic behaviours because young people don't know how to put up personal boundaries yet and if they weren't raised with a lot of love, well they lack self-love as well.

So in fact they have no idea what a healthy relationship looks like, that's why we see so many toxic narratives about the members and their relationships.

Of course I'm talking generalities I am well aware some older fans are also involved with other ships and fuel those narratives. But it's usually fans who even in their adult lives continue to have distorted perceptions of what is good and healthy.

My view on this might be quite radical but nobody in their right mind could be a serious taekooker. Nobody.

Their ship is based entirely on falshood and toxicity. When you are not distorted in your views it is impossible to get behind a ship such as this. (Except if its for just fun I guess)

I think for a balanced adult the only relationship that makes the most sense is jikook. Because they are themselves balanced and healthy and there is absolutely nothing toxic about them.

But not everyone grows in the same way and not everyone can have a balanced point of view and have enough experience to understand the subtleties of human exchange.

That's why there are so many disparities. And that's why I think a lot of jikooker are mostly older.

Jikookers do not have the shiny object syndrom. We do not think jikook are in a relationship because "it's hot" or "it would be cool".

We simply observe them and drew conclusions from our own personal experiences that made us go "Ok I see what this is" and that's it, literally.

That's why I think sometimes we should not take what tkkers do so seriously because some of them are really young and yes sometimes children. They don't even understand what they are doing and what they are believing in.

But it's true jikook draw people with certain levels of maturity, and I think it's quite indispensable to truly understand the depth of their relationship. Nothing beats personal experiences to compare lol

(Again it is all general statements and I know there are exceptions)

I answered quickly but I hope you see now why some jikookers might be older.

Thanks again and take care 💜

[obsidianpen]

What's so great about Harrymort, anyway? This ship basically consists of Stockholm syndrome, power inequality, and abuse. The same can be applied to Tomione but I understand that last one and I even started to appreciate this ship a lot. Hermione is the character most similar to Tom, if she had the ambition that Tom had, she could have become something similar to Voldemort in canon. But beyond that, Hermione is someone Tom/V could respect and have as an ally. She is someone who would be able to rule alongside him, and everyone would benefit from that, since she is fair and good. Also if Tom/V had her by his side, he would be a more stable version than the one in canon. So.. I understand why you like this ship so much but.. the more I think about Harrymort the more I feel disgusted. Harry is not a character that people respect and fear, he is just Harry. Just that. Some random boy. There's nothing special about him, and if it weren't for the horcrux he would already be dead since chapter 1 of the books. Tom/V is a prodigy, one of the most powerful wizards in the books, he wouldn't be interested in someone so ordinary. But let's say yes, that Tom/V is interested in Harry precisely because he is common and average, since they have a similar background - This is difficult to happen, V is not an empathetic character but let's pretend so - and because of the horcrux, of course it's because of the horcrux, that's the only reason, the only thing that makes Harry stand out among the others -not even that came from him lol so sad- If our hypothetical scenario happened, Harry would be a toy for Tom /V -he already is- "ah, but the fun is in how much Harry fights, he was going to fight, that's what he is" oh yes, this argument is the favorite of the Tomarymort fans, huh? He wouldn't be able to fight forever, this character has been in fight or flight mode since the beginning, he'll get tired eventually, V would be able to break him, and do you think V is the type to keep things broken? I don't think so. My point is Tomarymort is a ship that explores abuse, toxic and destructive relationships, physical and psychological torture, Stockholm syndrome etc. And that's fine if you like it but I think we can all agree that this ship and love should NEVER be put in the same sentence . Because love and respect would never exist between these two characters. No matter how good the writer is, some things just don't work. Just become them ooc, that's what happens most lol

Preface: I’m breaking this one down point by point, and then I am never responding to anything similar ever again. I will also not be posting anonymous responses to this. I hate being the middle man for a tumblr shipping war, so I’m not going to participate in that. If you want to respond, you can leave a comment or reblog it into your own page. 💖

What's so great about Harrymort, anyway? 

The drama, the intensity, the wrongness, the clashing of opposites, the most extreme version of enemies to loversâ���¦

This ship basically consists of Stockholm syndrome, power inequality, and abuse. 

In some fics sure, yeah. But these are all really interesting - terrible, yes, but super interesting to dive into. There is a reason people like to read/watch psychological thrillers, horror, etc. I don’t feel like I should have to explain this very massive, common human drive, so I won’t. Go google it!

The same can be applied to Tomione but I understand that last one and I even started to appreciate this ship a lot. 

Cool, you like these things too! And you’re completely allowed to prefer Hermione to Harry. Whatever you want to read.

Hermione is the character most similar to Tom, if she had the ambition that Tom had, she could have become something similar to Voldemort in canon. 

Strong disagree here - she did have that ambition imo, she just… wasn’t evil, and she became Minister of Magic in canon, so. Pretty ambitious and somewhat similar, just in the legal, ‘good’ way.

But beyond that, Hermione is someone Tom/V could respect and have as an ally. 

Mm, no, she was a muggleborn, so in canon, a LOT of major shifts would have needed to happen for her to simply not be killed, or maybe tortured a hunch for fun, first, before eventually… being killed.

She is someone who would be able to rule alongside him, and everyone would benefit from that, since she is fair and good. 

Again, LOTS of things would have had to happen in canon for this to be even remotely possible. Unless you’re imagining some kind of AU where Tom Riddle is the same age as the trio, and they grow up together and can therefore influence each other on more equal footing…? But that’s Tom, not canon Voldemort, and you started this referencing Voldemort.

Also if Tom/V had her by his side, he would be a more stable version than the one in canon. 

Uh, would he? Assuming we’ve jumped over the impossible canon hurdles to get Hermione by Lord Voldemort’s side, by the time Hermione is even in the magical world, he’s been a bodiless spirit with a shredded soul for years. It would be a tall order for Hermione - or anyone - to make him more stable. I like arguing that Harry could sort of manage this in canon because of the horcrux connection, but that’s me making things up that are FAR from canon, and Hermione doesn’t have this. 

So.. I understand why you like this ship so much but.. the more I think about Harrymort the more I feel disgusted. 

Cool, your feelings are valid! You should probably stop thinking about Harrymort for your mental health. You can block tags/keywords/etc on tumblr so that you see less of it.

Harry is not a character that people respect and fear, he is just Harry. Just that. Some random boy. There's nothing special about him, and if it weren't for the horcrux he would already be dead since chapter 1 of the books. 

Well, that’s not true, imo. Harry was the best at Defensive Magic, he was an amazing flier, he is brave and bold and puts his life on the line for others without question - even people who don’t deserve it and who tried to harm him, like Draco. Those are all extraordinary traits that maybe some people make the mistake of ignoring and underestimating. 

Tom/V is a prodigy, one of the most powerful wizards in the books, he wouldn't be interested in someone so ordinary. 

If not for the horcrux, maybe not. But also, maybe. We don’t know what Harry would have been like if he grew up with a normal happy healthy family. Maybe he would have thrived in many ways, and he would have gleaned some interest. But even without that, see above comment to take note of some of Harry’s traits that he has despite growing up in an abusive home. Voldemort said himself that he values bravery. 

But let's say yes, that Tom/V is interested in Harry precisely because he is common and average, since they have a similar background - This is difficult to happen, V is not an empathetic character but let's pretend so - and because of the horcrux, of course it's because of the horcrux, that's the only reason, the only thing that makes Harry stand out among the others -not even that came from him lol so sad- If our hypothetical scenario happened, Harry would be a toy for Tom /V -he already is- "ah, but the fun is in how much Harry fights, he was going to fight, that's what he is" oh yes, this argument is the favorite of the Tomarymort fans, huh? He wouldn't be able to fight forever, this character has been in fight or flight mode since the beginning, he'll get tired eventually, V would be able to break him, and do you think V is the type to keep things broken? I don't think so. 

None of this logic adds up to me. How can you say all this about Harry and not apply it to pretty much everyone else, including Hermione? Voldemort WAS far from empathetic. Canonically. And yeah, sure, no one would be able to fight forever. But if anyone has a fire that would last an infuriatingly long time, I’d argue that it would be Harry. 

My point is Tomarymort is a ship that explores abuse, toxic and destructive relationships, physical and psychological torture, Stockholm syndrome etc. And that's fine if you like it but I think we can all agree that this ship and love should NEVER be put in the same sentence . 

Obviously this depends on what the story is. If it’s a story that explores all those former themes, then it’s probably not a lovey dovey romance anyway. But there are definitely stories that don’t have all those dark subjects, and if someone wants to write a platonic romance where the word love shows up between these two, more power to them! But you don’t get to say everyone in the world can never do a single thing in their fiction. People can write whatever they want! And you get to decide not to read it! Everyone wins.

Because love and respect would never exist between these two characters. No matter how good the writer is, some things just don't work. Just become them ooc, that's what happens most lol

I feel sorry for you. Where is your sense of curiosity, open-mindedness? Maybe you could never write these things convincingly, but some people are more talented than you (don’t take this too personally; no matter how good we are, there are always people more talented than us). It’s okay to not like things and to avoid them based on your comfort level/interest/etc etc, but just because you’re not looking doesn’t mean that such amazing jaw-dropping works that make you believe in the unbelievable aren’t out there.

💖

[damnfandomproblems]

Fandom Problem #6630:

Newer Fandoms confuse the hell out of me

Why are they so toxic?

Im so lucky to have grown up in such a non toxic Fandom like Transformers. (G1 and G2 specifically) it's such an old Fandom

In the tf Fandoms we never argued about shipping incest like the Lambotwins

We never thought poly ships were weird.

Abusive and dark ships? Hell yeah! (there are so many StarscreamxMegatron ships. I've even read a Stockholm syndrome fic between Soundwave and jazz that was really good)

Ships between robots and humans? THEY ARE CANON!!! (there's like 4 I think lmao or more in Tfg1 alone)

Between strange organic aliens and robots/humans? Yes!

Non humanoid robots with humanoid robots? Yes!

Villains that would probably eat you in canon but you still wanna fuck them? Yes!

Angst? Yes!

Fluff? Yes!

Smut? FUCK YES!

if we didn't like something we didn't fucking look, read, or interact with it. We just kept scrolling for things we did want.

We knew right from wrong. We knew fiction from reality.

We never had to worry bout all this racebending discourse.

No one racebends any of the humans.

Not even Raoul (tracksxraoul for life)

I just don't understand why there's so many taking issue with these things so much in newer Fandoms.

Like mate I grew up fantasizing about being spit roasted between the lambotwins. Two fucking robots.

Not to even mention that as a minor you shouldn't be looking at Nonsfw media anyway. And if you do shut the fuck up about it damn.

There are better things for you to be doing.

If fiction upsets you that much and consumes so much of your daily life and energy then you need to step away from it.

Go focus on real world problems please.

Also if I sound pressed and angry it's because I am genuinely confused by how stupid Fandom members these days can be.

I don't get why everything is such a problem when it wasn't. Like yeah these are problems in real life. So deal with them in real life. Not in fiction.

They are two very different places.

Stop preaching at us with your "moral superiority"

We don't aprrove of these things in real life

But we more than have the right to explore them in fiction.

Seriously when did this not become clear to people???

[oscconfessions]

idk if this is a topic welcome on this blog but i GOTTA rant about it somewhere it’s driving me cray cray!!

the way lairy has been so widely accepted/normalized in the HFJONE fandom genuinely drives me crazy. it’s disgusting, distasteful, and inherently mischaracterizes both airy and liam.

i keep seeing excuses everywhere where people will say “it’s just toxic yaoi!!” or “you just can’t handle dark/unhealthy relationships in fiction!!” which, not only is boiling both them down to ‘toxic yaoi’ a disservice to their characters & nuances and just inherently distasteful, I’m not scared of exploring toxic/unhealthy relationships in fiction. I think it’s IMPORTANT to explore darker subject matter in fiction, and it’s also interesting to think about how dynamics between characters like Liam and Airy would be like.

it draws a LINE, however, when you start ROMANTICIZING the toxic/abusive relationships you’re portraying. Which, by SHIPPING THEM, you’re inherently doing by the very NATURE of shipping and ship culture. And even if you want to argue “shipping isn’t romanticizing”, the way lairy shippers talk about it/portray it IS!! Saying shit like “omg husbands.. they’re such an old married couple >_<“ or “boyfriends!! they’re so toxic yaoi ^o^” or wtv is SICKENING.

there is no conceivable way that lairy would be a healthy relationship, or that they would be in one at ALL. and to show otherwise is quite frankly a bastardization of both their characters. Even if it’s an “au”, portraying them like that is just inherently distasteful given it’s STILL derivative of the og source material, and therefore the CHARACTERS.

not to mention there are so. Many. More. INTERESTING WAYS to interpret/portray their dynamic. I’ve seen people portray them as brothers, father/son, hell even just CODEPENDENCY in general. While i might not be a huge fan of some of these portrayals, it is a MILLION times more interesting to think about. And. It doesn’t inherently glorify/romanticize the toxic aspects of those dynamics!! Shocking!!

Plus, just in GENERAL lairy shippers are some of the weirdest mfs in the osc, ESPECIALLY when it comes to the content they make regarding the ship itself. The weird Stockholm Syndrome shit, the literal 🍇 F**T1SH CONTENT EVERYWHERE (ESPECIALLY on sites like AO3, it’s genuinely so disgusting the amount of fics like that. That you can just find scrolling through the main fandom tag.).

idc if you ‘don’t romanticize it’, idc if you ‘don’t portray it like that’ or are just ‘neutral about it’. you’re a weird mf and do NOT have a valid place in the hfjone fandom or the osc as a WHOLE until you sort out the OBVIOUS issues you have if you actively partake in that content.

sorry mods for the yap fest it’s 3am and after seeing that makeship video on TikTok opening the floodgates and incentivizing lairy shippers to come crawling out the woodwork made me inconceivably angry. especially as a Liam fictionkin. FUCK LAIRY.

.

[remembrancer-of-heresy]

The Eternal Night (Part 5/Finale)

Summary: After the destruction of Nostramo, Sevatar gets emotional and wants to see you.

Jago Sevatarion/fem!Reader

Warnings: yandere, power imbalance, violence, predator/prey, stockholm syndrome, noncon

Word count: 2581

Song: She Wants Revenge - Sister

Still he pulled back the sheets And said, "You better lie down, 'cause the angels are watching," She closed her eyes and said, "Quit the talking You can hurt me, do whatever you like,"

Sevatar had long since left the captain's bridge. The legionnaires lowered their heads, trying not to look at the man. The serfs, almost crying and trembling with fear, fled to their holes. Even the most fearless brothers tried not to get in his way, feeling the wrongness and creepiness. It was as if his dark soul had found a way to spill out. The air shook with his Gift, which he could not contain due to strong feelings.

There was little that surprised or awed the First Captain. His mind worked differently. The man still remembered the Zoa Tower, which Shang called beautiful. Sevatar could not understand how one could define something or someone as beautiful. However, now he could fully realize this when he saw the destruction of the world.

Nostramo, a world without sun and law, was destroyed no more than an hour ago. But Sevatar still saw the destruction of the universe before him. What was created by the Galaxy over millions of years disintegrated in a matter of minutes. How the threads of life were cut, tectonic plates shifted, and magma flooded the planet like blood.

It was a wonderful sight.

A sight that haunted him even after the world was left in ash, the ships set off far from their home system. Even when the first captain gave the order to kill every dissenter at Nightfall. Be it mortal or space marine. The primarch's order was law and they had to obey.

His family had long since died, and distant relatives served the Night Lords right here. Besides, he never liked his hometown. Tall mines in which one had to work until exhaustion. The smell of adamantium and black clouds full of toxic rain. The only thing he will miss is the crows.

Sometimes the man regretted that he had not taken them with him on the ship the last time they were on Nostramo. But years of self-control and meditation helped him cope with the consequences of the Gift. And with you, he completely forgot about his curse for a while.

You. Your image immediately appeared in his head when the red glow of the burning world disappeared from his black eyes. Sevatar immediately realized that he wanted to share this moment with you. He wanted you to feel the same way he did. A man wouldn't risk taking you to the porthole. He only liked to see you in his chambers. But maybe you can see it in his eyes?

Sevatar slightly opens the door to his quaters and remains on the threshold, not daring to enter. You sat at the very end of the room, legs crossed and ears covered. Rocked like a child, hoping to calm down. You felt Nightfall being torn apart by the countless number of weapons that were used. Heard the despair of the planet being destroyed.

If you were a psyker, did you hear the screams and tears of the dying?

You feel how the air in the room is changing, how your hair is electrified from a strange sensation. As long as you dare to look at the returning man. Your eyes, filled with fear, light up with a spark of hope.

“Is it over?” - much to the space marine's disappointment, yes. Apparently his face spoke for him because your eyebrows immediately furrowed. - “Sevatar, are you fine?”

The last time anyone showed concern about his condition was his mother. Huh, Sevatar didn’t think about her for many years. It's not that he misses her. But you appeared and images of his mother hugging him in the hope of easing the pain began to emerge in his mind. You did it better.

“Yes, little mouse, I’m fine.” - the man succeeds before going inside, locking the door. - “Now finally help me take off this armor.”

You quickly jump up and rush to the space marine, attentivelly and extremely carefully helping the man remove the second skin. You are too weak for such weight, but your delicate fingers easily cling to the necessary parts, giving the man the opportunity to remove the armor. You both are silent, each thinking about your own.

“That chronicler that we hung at the entrance. What did she do? - the words cut through the silence like water through a stone. Sevatar was about to leave, having discussed all important matters with the primarch, but a question arose by itself. He didn't even understand why he asked it. But worst of all was Konrad Curze's smile.

“Oh, she took part of the report on Piamen joining the Imperium. To make a list of questions and write a book. But without asking my permission and taking away important documents, theft was committed. The criminal deserved her punishment.”

Sevatar raises an eyebrow at the primarch's excuses. Not that he regretted the death of the annoying remembrancer. He didn’t care, besides, an order is an order, it must be carried out. It was just that he was partly amused by Curze's attempts to justify his thirst for violence as a noble act. The Night Lords were justice, but there was no point in denying their dark desires.

“Be that as it may, everything turned out only in your favor.” - pointed teeth stretch to their full length, like a crescent moon. - “No more keeping track of a useless crew member. And you began to sleep more often, didn’t you?”

“Are you scared?” - you nod confusedly and the man chuckles. He shouldn't have asked such an obvious question. Even though you were safe and began to perceive Nightfall more as a home, you were still an ordinary serf girl. For whom Cheraut Incident is akin to the end of the world.

The fact that Konrad Curze almost killed his brother, after which he hastened to hide in his native system, raised trepidation among mortals. The Night Lords were only too happy to mock their cousins, but even they were surprised at such a sharp attack from the primarch.

All the time on the way to Nostramo, the ships languished from human fear and the gloomy anticipation of the space marines. Opportunities to bring justice to their home world. Final and irrevocable judjment at the cost of billions of lives.

“The whole planet was thundering. And people screamed so much. I think I can still hear them crying. Or maybe my imagination is running wild, I-I don't know. I never would have thought that one of the worlds of the Imperium would fall in this way.” - you pull your head into your shoulders, putting the last detail back in place, realizing what you just said. - “Beg your pardon, my lord.”

“Hmm, it’s even a pity that you were hiding here. Seeing the whole world die is an unforgettable feeling. Especially if you came from it. Imagine if Terra was also destroyed.” - Sevatar grins, enjoying your surprised look.

“B-but that won’t happen, the Emperor won’t allow it.” - you were so frightened by the very thought of destroying the heart of the Imperium that you began to contradict your master. But Sevatar was in a good mood and he even liked your hope, flimsy as dirt.

The first captain doesn't answer you. Doesn't know what to say to this. If the Emperor so wishes, Terra can be destroyed in a matter of minutes. Or, on the contrary, the Legions would line up to protect the planet. But first and foremost, Sevatar served Konrad Curze. He was ready to carry out his orders first and foremost. Like now they have already destroyed the world. Their former home.

The man sits down on the bed, not taking his eyes off you. You fiddle with your hands, not daring to approach Sevatar until he gives you an order. Obedient girl. As you promised, you served him well and he appreciated it. Maybe he should have sent you to bed or touched your tattoo again as usual.

But today Sevatar was overwhelmed with feelings and he realized that this was not enough. He needed more. He didn't know what exactly he wanted from you. However, the desire to devour you took hold with incredible force as soon as he remembered the death throes of Nostramo.

The man pats the bed next to him. Sevatar chuckles as your eyes widen. Just like a crow. It's not that you were afraid, but the first captain's behavior was unusual. Even if he cares about you, the unknown is always scary. Especially on the Night Lords' ship.

You purse your lips and hesitantly approach the bed before lowering yourself onto it. The air filled with heat. The man continues to study you, not knowing what to do with you next. Until an idea comes to mind. Spontaneous and foreign, but it’s just right for a space marine. After all, why not satisfy his curiosity.

“Take off the top.” - you shudder, unable to understand the order. But your hands still reach for his shirt, as soon as Sevatar frowns. His voice drops, almost sounding like metal scraping. - “I won’t repeat it. Strip.”

You quickly remove the cloth, trying not to anger your master, looking at him carefully. Waiting like little prey to see what the predator's next move will be. But the snap of man's fingers pull you out of thoughts and you almost whimper, removing the fabric covering your breasts. You want to hide from the examining gaze, hug yourself with my arms. But you don’t do this, unable to move.

And Sevatar looks at you, unable to understand his train of thought. And why did he order you to do this? The body is like a body, ordinary mortal skin, on which it is easy to leave bruises (he can already see a couple) and easy to remove. The flesh is soft in comparison. Two bulges that reveal your femininity. Nothing special, he had seen naked bodies more than once in skinning pits.

But he can't turn his back on you. Something about you touches him. Sevatar clenches his teeth, almost growling. You cower, finally covering yourself, as if in one moment the man will tear you apart. In part, that's what he really wanted to do. Sink his teeth into the flesh, tear out pieces of meat, bury himself in your hair and remain in your scraps for an eternity.

Hearts sound loud and fast, echoing in a man’s head as he moves closer to you. Unwanted thoughts take over the mind, throwing all irrationality to the wind. He must touch you. He must tear you apart. Should kill you. Must be inside.

You can hardly breathe when a heavy hand touches your shoulder, caressing the tattoo. But this time Sevatar doesn’t turn you around with your back to him. Quite the opposite. With his other hand, the Space Marine throws your arms off your breast and presses your waist to him. The little heart is beating fast like a mouse caught in the clutches of a beast. The cheeks warm with the realization that the man is wearing only a loincloth.

The silence is abruptly interrupted by your short scream as Sevatar sinks his teeth into the line connecting the shoulder and neck. He was too cautious and careful so that you wouldn't break. But it still hurt you. The man licks your wound, enjoying your sobs. He fixes his gaze on you, hoping to see your suffering. And freezes.

Your eyes are wet, your mouth is slightly open. You were hurt, but there was something else in your face. Soft and gentle, long forgotten and buried in the depths of the minds of the Night Lords. But even as a mortal boy, Sevatar cannot remember a similar look. Only his mother looked at him like that, but still there was a difference. You didn't see him as a son.

You raise your hands and run your fingers over Sevatar's shoulders. Tender, fragile fingers that have never known hard work, have never held a weapon in their hands. Until you finally lock them behind his neck. You press your whole body against him so that he can feel your breasts.

For the first time in a long time, the man's breathing becomes unbearable. But not from pain, as usually happens in battle or because of the Gift. Sevatar would even say that he feels better than ever. His hearts began to beat even faster, and heat rushed through his body. You hissed in pain, feeling the hot skin beneath you. But you still clung to him.

“I can break you.” - he won't kill you. He won't let anyone hurt you. Any man who dares to look at you or speaks to say goodbye to his life. - “I am your master. And you are mine. You’re mine, aren’t you?”

He didn't like to share. Never lived in the slums of the night city. Not now, when he took the place of first captain. If he wanted something (and this rarely happened), he devoured it without leaving a trace. The Terminators were loyal only to him. And you. You should have given yourself to him too.

Sevatar watches with a sigh as your eyes fill with tears, rolling down your cheek. He instinctively licks them, touching your cheeks with his tongue and lips. Your eyes. And your lips. The last part of the body especially touched his nerves, but the man restrains himself so as not to rip out your lower face with his teeth.

“Do whatever you like.” - you pronounce the cherished words with a breath and a groan. Before fearfully and hesitantly rushing towards the pale face of the killer holding you captive. Your lips touch the scar on your chin. - "I'm yours."

You're a good girl. You are very very good. It’s even a pity that you fell into the hands of a beast who can barely control himself. Which knows only how to kill, cut and torture. But he will learn. And may it always hurt you, you will enjoy it just like now.

Sevatar tilts you until your head hits the pillow. The man settles on top of you, squeezing your waist and shoulders. He runs his fingers over the tattoo. He remembers, no, he studies what has eluded him all these years. What he was deprived of as an Astartes.

His hand lands on one of your breasts and squeezes, making you squeak, digging your nails into his shoulders. A bloody grin runs across Sevatar’s face, causing drops of your own blood to fall on your face. His hips move against yours on their own, as if imitating a process erased from his code.

This is only an imitation perverted by chemical treatment. And even so, Sevatar realizes a simple truth. He wants to be inside. He wants to take his sword and plunge it into you up to the hilt. He wants to fill you up so that liters of blood pour out of you.

Sevatar peers into your face before burying his nose in your shoulder with a groan. The whole body and mind are overwhelmed by a contradictory feeling of peace and rage, merging into a strange symbiosis. There is a confession on the tip of his tongue that he wants to say, but he can’t because he doesn’t know what the words are. Only one thing comes to mind.

“Call me Jago.” - the man almost closes his eyes from the coming sleep. Ahead there was only eternal night .

“This means?”

“Yes.”