#yes i Will use it whenever plausible!

[carnivalcarriondiscarded]

oooo it's been a while since the last snippet :]c it's another fantasy au one where I'm! Putting! Barnaby! Through It!

a minor warnings: implied/referenced major character death <3

 No one eats dinner, and Frank won’t stop tapping his spoon against his bowl. Tok tok tok it goes, over and over again.

Poppy made a simple stew from their provisions, but only Eddie and Sally make an attempt at tasting it. Their halfhearted ‘it’s good’s don’t pierce the pressure weighing down on them all. Barnaby swears he can taste it, thick and cloying. 

Already he keeps catching himself looking for Wally. Where is- he starts to think, and then he remembers the moment Wally fell with a spear piercing his chest, and the grief rises so fast it nearly drowns him in a heartbeat. Barnaby can’t bring himself to try and hide it behind anything but a stony mask. In any other situation he might try to put some levity into the group. Cheer up the sad and empty faces staring into their meals. 

He wouldn’t be able to think of a single lighthearted thing even if he wanted to. He doesn’t.

Tok tok tok-

Shuffling from Howdy’s tent has everyone glancing over at it, and Frank’s spoon stills. Howdy briefly woke up while Poppy was cooking. All he did was sit up, look at everyone, then pitch to the side and vomit. They got him into a tent before he passed out again, mumbling something about puppets. Frank made a comment about how Howdy was supposed to be a bit out of it, not at fae-drunk levels of hazy. Eddie had muttered back a dejected apology, and after that the camp was silent until Poppy’s announcement that dinner was ready. The spoon continues tapping when the shuffling stills.

Tok tok tok-

Since Eddie and Sally saying that dinner is good, there hasn’t been a noise beyond the occasional sniffle. It’s a good thing Julie isn’t trying her stew - it must be disgustingly salty from all the tears dripping into it. 

Tok tok tok-

Barnaby sighs through his nose and puts his bowl down, sick of looking at everyone’s misery. He would say that he’s going to go sleep, but he has a feeling that none of them are getting a wink tonight. 

Tok tok-

Before he can stand, Frank blurts, “We shouldn’t have attacked it. It was a mistake.”

“Please don’t,” Julie begs.

“There’s no need to rub salt in the wound,” Sally says firmly, her stew starting to sizzle from the rising heat in her hands.

“Not right now, Frank,” Eddie mutters. 

Frank visibly bristles, and he launches to his feet. “I refuse to pretend not to have seen what I did! The truth is a terrible thing, but someone needs to say it. Wally lied to us.”

“Frank…” Barnaby warns.

“We shouldn’t have attacked the demon,” Frank barrels on, ignoring him, “because there was no need to. It didn’t eat Wally until the end because the demon is his patron. Wally was never a wizard at all, he was a warlock-”

Barnaby lunges with a deep bark that echoes against the trees. The crickets symphony falls silent. Frank trips backwards over his seat, staring up with wide eyes as Barnaby stalks around the fire, growling. Eddie and Sally slowly stand, inching between him and Frank. 

Barnaby stops, snout bunched and canines bared. He jabs a claw at Frank. “Don’t you ever say that again. Ever.”

Frank’s mouth flaps uselessly for a moment. When he speaks, it comes out as a whisper, “I’m-”

“If you end that with right instead of sorry, I’ll make damn sure that you are.”

Frank wisely keeps his mouth shut. The crickets continue chirping.

Barnaby glares at him until Frank looks away. Barnaby straightens his vest with a sharp tug and strides away from the fire, towards his and- his tent. Just his, now. Murmuring breaks out at his back. He yanks the flap open, grabs his pipe and herb pouch, and heads towards the forest. He pauses only to listen by Howdy’s tent, waiting to hear proof of life before continuing on.

Once he can’t see the firelight anymore, Barnaby chooses a random tree and sits heavily in front of it. Rough bark digs into his back through his vest. A night bird hoots overhead. Crickets continue to make their music, but Barnaby wishes they would shut up for good. 

Light from the full moon pours through the branches to provide just enough light to see by. Barnaby holds up his pipe and quickly puts it to the side to take off a grimy glove. The heart-pad and blue fur underneath contrasts vibrantly with the dust-grayed rest of him. After a moment he removes the other glove, wincing as the leather drags over his injured knuckles. He turns his paw over and scowls at the dirty black edges of the red-raw scrapes. He should have punched harder. He hopes it scars, even though he knows it won’t.

The gloves themselves are scuffed up, but not beyond use. Barnaby folds them into his pocket and gets to work lighting his pipe. He packs it and instinctively opens his mouth to ask Wally to light it for him. The words die on his tongue as he turns only to see dark forest. Empty woods save for the tiny blue lights of night wisps floating on the breeze. 

Barnaby stares into the darkness with yawning dread. He keeps looking. How long will it take him to stop? How long until Wally’s face starts to smudge in his memories, until his voice is gone and Barnaby doesn’t even remember what his smile looked like? How long until Barnaby only thinks of him in passing? 

He doesn’t want to reach that point. He desperately does. 

Will it hurt more or less? Does it matter? He wants it to ache until he dies.

Barnaby frantically fishes his sparkrune out of the herb pouch - only there for emergencies, when Wally or Sally isn’t there to light it for him. It will wear down to a nub within the month. He strikes his thumb claw against it, and sparks fly expertly into the bowl of his pipe. It takes a moment to catch. Barnaby lifts the bit to his lips and takes a drag before enough smoke forms for a lungful. 

Maybe he should have grabbed the stronger stuff. If he breathes enough of it, maybe he’d be able to see Wally. 

But Barnaby doesn’t get up in the end. He sits against the base of a tree and hugs himself, the pipe’s intermittent glow betraying the shine in his eyes.

[deadsetobsessions]

Sea Cryptic! Danny AU- Pt.3

[Pt.1] [Pt.2] [Pt.4] [Pt.5] [Pt.6] [Pt.7] [Pt.8] [Pt.9] [Pt.10]

“Aquaman.” Batman swept into the room, beelining straight for the suddenly apprehensive Atlantean king.

“Batman. What can I do for you?”

“Phantom. Does he pay taxes?”

“Pardon?”

Batman makes a low noise that had Aquaman’s danger senses buzzing.

“Does Phantom have to pay taxes. Towards Atlantis.”

“No…? Why?”

“He wanted money, in exchange for… information, of a delicate sort,” Batman said, diplomatically avoiding the topic of Phantom bargaining for the identities of corpses in exchange for a measly $100 dollars per identity. Like a flea market dealer, that one was.

“You encountered Phantom again?” Aquaman perked up.

“Yes. Gotham’s bay is… polluted.” Batman paused. “With victims. Of murder.”

The entire area quieted as heads turned towards the Dark Knight.

“Yes, I am… distantly aware of Gotham’s waters.” By that, Aquaman gets green around the gills whenever he turns his awareness in that direction. There’s a reason he doesn’t enter Gotham, and the Dark Knight’s ban is only half of that reason. “Ah, but you’re correct. For what purpose would Phantom need mortal currency?”

“Hn.”

“Maybe he needs some stuff?” Flash zipped to a stop next to Batman, feet tapping as he dug into the pile of snacks cradled in his arms. “Us mortals are always coming up with new things, maybe he wants to try some games or something?”

Batman tilted his head down, seriously considering Flash’s suggestion. “It’s plausible.”

“Barry, Barry, Barry. He’s old as hell, right? He probably wants to try the new booze!”

“Hal, my man!” Flash fist bumped Green Lantern, who came up. “You’re back! What happened to John?”

“Dunno. He got called somewhere that way,” Green Lantern waved a vague hand towards the left. “Had to deal with a politician or something from that area.” He shrugged, swinging an arm over Barry’s shoulders to put him in a headlock and stealing a chip.

“Huh. Anyways, would our mortal alcohol even work on a demi-god or something?”

“We should ask!” Hal turned towards Batman. “You should ask if he wants to go for a drink, spooky!”

“He’s a child.”

“He’s been around for more than a millennia, Bats.”

“Informational gathering, right, Hal?” Flashgot out of the headlock, quickly munching on his snacks to stop Green Lantern from stealing them.

“Totally. Yup.”

“…Fine.”

“Wait, are we just gonna ignore that Gotham’s waters are full of bodies?”

“Yes.”

——

“What?” Danny asked, mind half on the bags he’s dragging out of the water and the other half on the essay he has to submit in about four hours.

“Green Lantern wanted to invite you out for a drink.”

Danny turned to the stoic Gotham knight, who had his wrist computer out to log the bodies’ info the moment Danny gave him the information. Some of them even told Danny who murdered them, so Batman could start building cases with solid leads.

Danny’s only twenty. He’s not legal yet but he doesn’t want to give any clues to who he is. How is he supposed to…

Ah!

“Can’t.” Danny shrugged. “I’m not legal. I died when I was fourteen so…” Danny trailed off, speechless at the drowned puppy face Batman was giving him. What the fuck.

“Anyways, fork over my payment.”

Batman wordlessly hands him a wad of hundreds.

“What do you need cash for?” Batman suddenly asked.

“Huh? Isn’t it obvious?” Danny tucked it in. “Material things, obviously. I need a blanket,” because holy shit, Gotham is damn cold this time of year. “Anyways, see you same time next week, litterer.”

“I don’t litter.”

“Tell that to the batarangs I found under the water,” Danny grumbled. “But I’ll stop calling you that if you get a signature from Poison Ivy. I have a friend who loves her.”

“An alive friend?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know, weatherboy?”

Danny snickered and disappeared. He’s gotta cram that essay.

——

“There’s a possibility Phantom might be homeless.”

“Batman, I mean this in the nicest way, but for the love of Atlantis, please stop giving me headaches. It’s time like these I wish I stayed a lighthouse keeper.”

[abyssruler]

plausible deniability

scaramouche x gn!reader

your boyfriend is nice, your boyfriend is sweet, but your boyfriend is also a serial killer. “relax, it’s just a dead body,” he tells you like he hadn’t just hit a man on the head with a brick hard enough to crack his skull. well, at least he did it to defend you? or — scaramouche kills people and you have the world’s biggest ‘i can fix him’ complex. (modern au)

crack, comedy, a few people die but who cares, scara is soft for one person and one person only and that’s you, “i would kill for you, in fact, i have killed for you.” “honey, did you take your meds today?” - scara and reader

You were never a fan of true crime documentaries, or horror movies, or gory shows, or anything that involved excessive blood spraying and lightless eyes staring into the camera.

So, it would stand to reason that at the first sign of your boyfriend being more than into those kinds of things, you would’ve turned tail and ran as far away as you can, right?

Unfortunately, you’ve always been blind to the color red.

…Figurative red, that is, because the red seeping through your couch and the ones coated on your boyfriend’s hands are definitely visible to you, bright and dripping and most definitely staining your pristine white rugs that you just bought last week. Ah, how are you going to explain that to the laundry lady?

“Scara, honey, what did I say about killing other people?” you ask, voice visibly strained.

He sneers at the face of the dead guy sitting haphazardly on your couch. “I didn’t like the way he was looking at you.”

You sigh.

✧

It wasn’t always like this, with the whole blood viscera happy-murder thing.

Your boyfriend, Scaramouche, had this odd habit of being so immersed in the news, a little smile lighting up his face (which you’d thought was cute at the time and, well, you still do) whenever the reporter gets to the local murders that used to have you shaking in fear on your bed.

He was charming though. A little possessive, but that was a trait you also thought was quite endearing—and, if you’re being honest, you still do. Scaramouche had a vast collection of sharp knives, some small and practically harmless (or as harmless as a knife can be) and others… not so harmless. You didn’t question it because he often cooked for you, your brain chalking it up to him using those knives for it.

It wasn’t until you were walking home alone from university that you discovered his little hobby of, well, killing people who inconvenienced you and him. Mostly people who inconvenienced you though, which was disturbing but also flattering in a crazy sort of way.

“Relax, it’s just a dead body,” he told you like he hadn’t just hit a man on the head with a brick hard enough to crack his skull.

You were cowering on the alley’s wall, eyes wide and knees shaking as you watched your supposedly nice and caring boyfriend wipe away the blood on his hand like it’s a normal occurrence. And when he grinned down at the body, something almost satisfied in his eyes, you realized that he was the cause for all the recent murders popping up in the city.

Now, the thing about this is that you should have run away screaming bloody murder, maybe call the cops or even do the sensible thing like break up with your boyfriend who’s apparently a psycho.

And you would have done it, if he just hadn’t been so… so…

He turned to you with concern shining in his eyes, stepping over the corpse of the man who’d pointed a pocket knife at you and tried to rob you. With hands still slicked with blood, he cradled your face and pressed a kiss to your forehead. “It’s a good thing you weren’t hurt.”

…sweet.

And as he pulled you away from the crime scene, dragging you home and running a hot bath for you both, asking you what you wanted for dinner like he hadn’t just murdered someone in front of you, you finally calmed down and saw the truth of the matter.

Yes, your boyfriend is quite possibly a serial killer, yes, you might just be making the worst decision of your life, and yes, you’re well aware this is because of all the wattpad bad boy stories you consumed when you were young, but you’ll be damned if you let Scaramouche go. He was kind (at least, to you he is), he was charming (when he wanted to be), he was a great cook, he was good with kids and the elderly, he was smart, and finally, he would never cheat on you.

So, while there might be the unfortunate addition of him being a little too happy with the idea of killing someone (have, in fact, killed someone, multiple someones at that), he was also the perfect boyfriend you could ask for. He just needs a little guidance, is all.

The next day, he proudly showed you the severed hand of a man who once made you cry because he groped you.

…Okay, a lot of guidance, but you can manage, you’ve read tons of bad boy turns good after falling in love type of stories. How difficult can it be to have your murderous boyfriend change his ways?

✧

Quite difficult, as it turns out.

A quick google on why people become murderers brought up a lot of questions and concerns for you, and while you’re well aware that google isn’t exactly the most reliable place when it comes to looking for advice, it’s also the only place you can go to without getting arrested for assisted murder—even though you’ve never actually helped Scaramouche when he goes all ham crazy on the general populace.

You sit him down on your couch, which was now free of blood thanks to google’s advice and good ol’ handy-dandy hydrogen peroxide.

Like this, facing each other and holding his hands, it almost seems like an actual, legitimate therapy session, minus the whole licensed psychiatrist thing. But hey, you’ve read tons of articles on the internet, so while you may be lacking in some aspects (namely, the fact that you don’t have any idea what you’re doing and aren’t qualified at all to be your crazy boyfriend’s therapist), you’re confident you can just wing it.

“Baby,” you start. Calling him endearments was an advice you picked up from reddit. A kind user named ballz3000 said that referring to them sweetly using innocent pet names can make them softer and calm their homicidal tendencies. “You know I don’t like it when you bring home dead bodies.”

According to another user named yn-yournuts, being open and communicating your feelings is the first step to establishing a healthy relationship and, consequently, a better mental state.

“It would’ve been difficult hiding the body at daytime,” he grouches, but he still keeps a gentle hold on your hands, which is a good thing. Baby steps, you tell yourself, baby steps—even though those baby steps might as well be called snail steps, wait, snail slithers.

“Then you should’ve waited until it was dark or midnight to kill him,” comes your immediate response—wait, damn it! You’re supposed to encourage him to steer away from murder, not give him advice on how to do it better. Smiling, you attempt to salvage the situation, “But, of course, it would be better to not kill anyone at all.”

It’s too late. He’s already donning a contemplative look on his face that soon turns into a grin, leaning in and briefly slotting his lips against yours.

“Thanks for the suggestion. I’ll be more careful next time, love,” is all he says before getting up and abruptly ending your impromptu therapy session.

And admittedly, there must be something wrong with you too, because instead of being horrified at his words, you giggle to yourself.

This is the first time he called you love!

✧

Alright, so operation therapy failed, it’s now time to charge in like a boar. Straightforwardness is always good according to that one article you found in google made by Hugh G. Bawles.

The two of you were in bed, the lights already turned off, when you took a deep breath and began preparing what you were going to say to him to prevent any more innocent people being killed.

Scara, I don’t like it when you kill people.

Baby, don’t show me anymore dead body parts.

Why did you become a murderer?

Sometimes, I feel like we’re a normal couple, but then you’ll suddenly go and casually bring me a bloody finger as a gift.

But instead of saying any of those, what comes out of your mouth is,

“Darling, I think you’re just confusing your constipation for homicidal urges.”

In hindsight, maybe attempting to start a heart to heart talk in the middle of the night just before a morning class was a bad idea.

You wait a few seconds, then minutes, and when he showed no signs of responding, you turn your head only to find him with his eyes closed and sound asleep.

Fine, you’ll just have to try again tomorrow.

✧

You share exactly one class with Scaramouche and it’s philosophy. Unfortunately, it’s also the class with the worst professor known to mankind.

“Ah, I got a low grade…” you mutter to yourself, looking down at your essay forlornly.

Your boyfriend takes one peak at your paper and immediately scowls. “You spent an entire night writing that.” He turns a glare to the professor currently ignorant of the murderer sitting in his class. “That asshole should’ve given you a perfect score. Maybe I should give him a little visit.”

You calmly take his hand under the table and squeeze it, all too used to him casually alluding to killing other people. “Dear, we talked about this. What do we do when we’re having homicidal thoughts?”

He looks down the table, brows furrowed in a sulking manner. “Don’t do it.”

You beam, proud at him for remembering the one thing you keep reminding him whenever he brings a dead body back to your house.

The blonde twins seated in front of you turn their head in horror after overhearing your conversation.

“What are you looking at?” Scaramouche sneers at the same time you say, “We’re roleplaying.”

“Right…” the long haired twin you distinctly remember was named Aether mumbles before he ushers his sister to ignore the two of you.

Oh well, at least you managed to stop one person from dying today. User tojiscrustysock on twitter always says you should take whatever victories you can, so you’ll consider this a resounding success.

✧

When you open the news next morning, the face of your professor is the first thing you see along with the words, found dead near his home.

You turn to your boyfriend sitting beside you, an innocent look on his face as you look at him with disappointment.

“My hand slipped,” is the flimsy excuse he settles for.

Sighing and utterly out of options, you’re forced to resort to the one thing you didn’t want to do. The worst possible option there is. If there’s going to a therapist and potentially getting arrested kind of worst, there’s this kind of worst—the absolute worst of the worst.

“Scara, I think we need to start doing yoga.”

word count: 1.8k

[tototalks]

🎵 Pretty woman, walking down the street, pretty woman, the kind I’d like to meet, pretty woman. 🎵

Let’s go!! Time for 💎 Pet 💎

- ‘Ancel was a virgin the first twelve times he has sex. The thirteenth time, it lacked all plausibility’ - What a way to start a story and give insight into the world Ancel lives in.

- You would be SHOCKED how much us redheads get the “does the carpet match the drapes” question from total strangers. Ancel is really living the authentic ginger experience. 😂

- In the times of ancient Greeks and Romans, redheaded slaves were more expensive because they were rarer. In that way, Ancel was designed perfectly to align with his character. Love that choice by Pacat! ♥️

- Ancel has a goal and I respect it, and he’s never once tried to hide it. It’s pretty clear that his love of expensive things comes from having very little at the start of life.

- It’s interesting to gain the perspective of a character detached from the thought of sex being emotionally significant. A first night was everything to Erasmus, and sex is hugely tied in with intimacy and emotional connection for Laurent. Jord and Aimeric fell in love while having sex. Whereas sex, to Ancel, is a means to an end. It’s literally his job.

- Love the implication that pets have their own hierarchy and contracts are fiercely competitive. They have their own little community.

- Ancel uses everything he has to his advantage to incredible effect. He’s pretty, witty, and talented. Whenever he walks into a room it’s like that scene from ‘How to Lose Friends and Alienate People’ where Megan Fox walks through the middle of the pool. Lol

- Now this may be the deeply ingrained European stereotypes I grew up with, but in the same way Laurent is French and Damen is Greek, Berenger is 100% German.

- You always get the sense that even though Ancel is bold and daring, he’s still tiptoeing and walking on eggshells. He completely reinvents himself for every new master he has.

- Haha Isagoras! - very on the nose and I love it

- It makes perfect sense that Ancel can’t read and cares little for long epics and poems. I’d be willing to bet though, that he has an amazing memory because of this. Uneducated does not equal unintelligent.

- Love that Ancel’s there all wide eyed like “yes! Please teach me to ride!” while internally he’s like “ew ew ew”. Don’t blame him. Horses are terrifying.

- I like that Berenger does find out Ancel is faking his interests and tells him that he doesn’t have to pretend. From there, Ancel is clearly more himself and more comfortable.

- In addition, although he’s a creature of habit, Berenger is actually really sweet 🥺🥺

- “Luxury suits you” “hell yeah it does.”

- I am so fascinated by Ancel and Erasmus existing in the same social sphere, and Ancel wondering why Erasmus doesn’t use the fact he’s beautiful for power, and dammit I’m going to have to write that fic, aren’t I? 😭

- Ancel and Berenger are mismatched but that’s what works so well about them with Berenger negotiating and Ancel naturally drawing attention to himself. They make up for one another’s differences.

- Ancel giving Berenger fashion advice, and Berenger ignoring it every time in favour of ✨another brown jacket✨

- I’m also liking the implication that Ancel enjoys being a pet and gaining attention for power because he knows what it’s like to be powerless. I personally like to think that he saw Nicaise’s situation and somewhat understood to a certain degree. I can imagine he would’ve been quite young when he started too.

- Fun fact! Ancel’s fire performance is actually reminiscent of a real dance! It’s a Polynesian art called Siva Afi and was traditionally a war dance, except instead of burning cloth on the ends of the baton, there are burning knives. Very cool! 🔥

- Ancel 🤝 Kris Jenner - all publicity is good publicity and I will make billionaires out of a scandal and watch people be jealous.

- The kiss being the first implication that Berenger actually does desire Ancel. Ooh boy, you ain’t hiding that much longer.

- The kiss is also the catalyst for Berenger ending the contract, and I can imagine that Ancel is so confused as to what he did wrong, not realising the circumstances behind the decision. 😞

- It’s absolutely wild looking back on the garden scene from a different perspective and realising that absolutely no one wanted that mess to happen.

- “You’re old.” - once again, ouch.

- Ancel being annoyed at seeing the lords go and ‘coddle’ Erasmus serves to highlight the wildly different appeals Ancel and Erasmus have as pets. Bold and daring vs. Sweet and modest. They would be unstoppable as friends. Shit, I’m really going to have to write that fic now, or read one that hopefully some talented person out there has written already 🙏

- Love that Ancel doesn’t rat Berenger out to the Regent - the Regent doesn’t even want him, and I’m sure Ancel is faintly remembering Nicaise mentioning that he’s “too old” 🤢

- And then the big reveal that Berenger was trying to protect Ancel as he supported Laurent’s bid for the throne; and Ancel realising that Berenger does, in fact, like him. Callback to “isn’t everyone looking for someone to be loyal to?” Sensational.

- I also, for my personal brain rot reasons, need Laurent and Ancel to strike up a bargain by which Ancel listens to all the pet gossip and rats out to Laurent which of the masters are disobeying the new laws of underaged pets or are undermining the new monarchy and union. All in return for a little coin of course 😉

- Ancel and Berenger: what a great little mismatched but perfectly matched pair! Really enjoyed this rendition of pretty woman! 😂

[pinkrose787]

You Can't Spell Apologize Without Lie

Summary: Bill comes into Ford's dream to apologize.

Ao3 Link

Ever since Bill died, Ford has slept a lot easier. No longer does he have to worry about that damn demonic triangle invading his dreams and tormenting him with threats of destroying his dimension.

That was until tonight.   

In tonight’s dream, he is in the Mystery Shack back when it was still his laboratory. It’s vivid in a way that his dreams never are. Except for whenever he dreamt about Bill.

“Hiya, Sixer! Did ya miss me? Admit it, you missed me.” A familiar perky voice comes from behind him.

Ford swivels around. Standing, or more precisely floating, before him is his triangular tormentor. Exactly the same as he was when Ford last saw him. Except for the crack that runs across his face filled with static. Likely a scar from when Stan punched Bill.

His eye has that smile to it. A smile that used to make Ford’s heart flutter with affection for his “muse”. Now, his heart pounds in fear of his manipulator. “Bill! You’re supposed to be dead!”

“But I’m not! I’m here!”

He takes a step back. A pointless action given Bill’s abilities. “Leave my mind this instant!”

Bill puts up his hands like he’s trying to soothe a panicked horse. He floats closer to Ford. “Listen, I will eventually. But I want you to hear me out first. Please.”

That gives Ford pause. In all his years of knowing Bill, never once did he say please. And there’s a genuineness in his voice. A vulnerability to it. But it could all be a trick. That’s what Bill does. He tricks and deceives to get what he wants.

Bill sighs. His eye looks at the ground. “I know you don’t trust me. And I know why. But it’s been so long. I’ve changed.”

“It’s only been 3 years. That’s barely any time to me, and almost nothing to you.”

“Where I’m at time works differently. It’s been 3 years to you and several eons to me.” He floats over to Ford. Puts his arm over his shoulder, the exact same way that he used to when Ford admired him. Likely a trick to get him to trust him. “You’re a smart guy, you get how all this relativity stuff works.”

Ford pushes Bill off of him. This time his tricks aren’t going work on him. “I don’t care where you are or how time works! I want you gone!”

“Look, I’ve spent all this time being ‘dead’,” He uses air quotes when he says dead. “in this asylum that makes Hell look like Disney World. There’s been nothing to do except reflect on my life.”

“It sounds like you’re in a place that you belong.”

“Yeah, I am.”

That’s not the answer Ford was expecting. At least, not said so sincerely. Still, he can’t forget that this is probably a trick. “So, you’re here to escape from there? That’s it, isn’t it?”

“No! No.” Bill shakes his head. “I came here to apologize.”

“You came here to apologize?” Ford heard him correctly. He knows he did. It’s impossible for him to mishear Bill in these dreams. The concept of Bill ever apologizing is so alien to him that mishearing a voice that is psychically projected into his head is more plausible.

“Yes, I did.” Bill takes off his hat. He holds it in his hands. “I realized that I messed up. Badly. You were the best thing to happen to me in a trillion years, and I didn’t see that. I was blinded by my own ambition and after destroying my dimension I was too scared to let anyone get to close. So, I told myself that you were nothing but a tool to me. A means to an end. But you weren’t. You were everything to me. You were the one person who could understand me.”

A tear forms in Bill’s eye. Combined with holding his hat in hands, he looks so vulnerable and pathetic. “I’m sorry. I really am.”

“So, you came here for forgiveness. Let me guess, this asylum place will only let you out if  get forgiveness from everyone you’ve ever wronged.” He looks Bill straight in the eye. “Well, you’re not getting it from me.” 

Bill puts his hat back on. It seems like he’s actually hurt by what Ford said? “That’s not it. They actually didn’t want me coming back here. They said it was a bad idea.”

“Well, maybe they were right. You should have never come back here.”

“I know, I just…”

“Just what? Just thought apologizing would undo everything you’ve done?” Ford’s voice starts to rise. “You manipulated me. You tortured me. You tried to kill my family. You damn near destroyed my dimension! I almost lost my brother because of you!”

“No! I…” Bill shouts.

Ford ignores him. “Do you want to know the worst thing you did?”

He looks Bill straight in his eye. Making sure that the demon is listening to his next words. “You made me fall in love with you. Even after every horrible thing you did to me, I still loved you! Even though I knew it was stupid and irrational to love someone who only wanted to hurt me, I still did!”

For once in his life, Bill Cipher doesn’t have anything to say.

“There were even parts of my brain telling me that it wasn’t that bad. That I’m being overdramatic. That being with you is better than being without you. And these thoughts tortured me for years. They haunted me on my coldest nights when I journeyed through the dimensions.”

“I’ve changed! I’m better now! I swear!” Bill cries.

“Well, I don’t care how much better you are! You could be the kindest person in all the dimensions who saves kittens from trees and I wouldn’t give a damn. Because it doesn’t matter how much you’ve changed, it still doesn’t negate all the horrible things you did!”

“I know that. But…”

“But nothing.”

“I didn’t mean to hurt you. I thought that apologizing would help you heal. Give you closure and all that junk.”  

“You thought it would heal me. Thought it would give me closure.” Ford rolls his eyes. “Well thank you for your consideration, but I was healing fine without you. I had just gotten to the point where I’m able to see a yellow triangle without spiraling into a panic attack. But now that’s in the trash, because of you.”

Bill rubs his arm. Not looking Ford in the eyes. “I really thought it would help.” He says in a low voice. “Honest.”

“Do you want to know how I know you haven’t changed? Every single sentence is about how you feel, what you think, how what you’ve done has affected you. There hasn’t been a single time where you have acknowledged how your actions have hurt me. You haven’t even done the bare minimum of asking how I’ve been doing. Because if you did you’d know that I’ve been doing better than I ever have without you.”

“Well, you haven’t given me an opportunity to. You keep cutting me off.”

“Because every time you open your damn mouth, you manipulate me. Every. Single. Time. But I’m not going let you this time. I’m done with you and your lies.”

Bill sighs. “I’m done with all of that. I promise.”

“Goodbye, Bill. If I never see you again, I want you to know that I hate you. More than I have ever hated anyone. You ruined my life, and for that I’ll never forgive you.”

What seems to be tear forms in Bill Cipher’s eye. “I’m sorry.” His voice fades.

Ford wakes up with a jolt. He’s covered in sweat. His breathing is heavy.

He looks around. He’s no longer in the dream.

Now, he’s back in the cabin of the Stan o’ War II. Stan sleeps on the bunk below him. The sound of his snores fill the cabin. The ship creaks as the waves rock it back and forth.

There’s no chance of him falling back asleep. He doesn’t want to risk seeing Bill again. That and his heart is still pounding in his chest. Looking at his watch, it reads 3 am.

He climbs out of bed, careful not to wake Stan, and heads out onto the deck.

It isn’t much lighter out here, but at least there are the stars. Out here in the Artic, there’s no light pollution. The stars shine brilliantly. Ford can find all the different constellations without needing a map of the sky. Ursa Major, Orion, Gemini.

If there is one thing Ford missed during his travel through the dimensions it was the stars. Sure, there were countless stars in all sorts of dimensions. But none of them equated to the beauty of the ones in this one. Looking at them he’s reminded that he’s back.

He’s home.

Though the stars are a source of comfort, there’s still a deep panic within him. Bill is back. He talked to him. His adrenaline levels are the same as if he was being hunted by a polar bear. Frankly, he’d rather deal with a polar bear than Bill.

He hears the floorboards creak behind him. Seems like Stan woke up. “You’re up early. You trying to map out the stars or something?” Stan says.

“I saw Bill in my dream,” Ford says point-blank. There’s no point in hiding it. Nor does he want to. He doesn’t want to be alone in dealing with Bill anymore. Every single time he’s tried, it’s almost ruined his life.

“Are you sure? You have been having a lot dreams about Bill since Weirdmageddon.” The worry in Stan’s voice is palpable.

Ford sighs. “This dream didn’t resemble any of the others. All of those dreams are strange and disjointed. Jumping from one event to another for seemingly no reason. This was one was as clear as day.”

“So he’s back? How? I killed that little triangle jerk!” Stan exclaims.

“You did. He’s still dead, and he has a scar on his face to prove it. I think he told me that he’s in some sort of prison dimension now?” Ford sighs. “It doesn’t matter.”

“What else did he say? Because I swear if that wise guy threatened you-” Stan shakes his fist.

“No, he didn’t threaten me. In fact, he apparently came because he wanted to apologize."

“Apologize? That’s gotta be some sort of trick.”

“That’s what I thought too, but no he seemed genuinely sincere.”

“Eh, I doubt it. I know the likes of him.” Stan leans back against the railing of the boat. “Met plenty of them over the course of my life. And let me tell you their apologies are never sincere.”

Ford rests his arms on the railing. “You may be right.” He sighs. “It just doesn’t make sense to me. I keep thinking I have Bill figured out, then he pulls something like this.”

“You should take what you do know about him, that he’s a lying conniving jerk who wanted to kill you and destroy our dimension, and base your opinion on that. So, he apologized.” Stan shrugs. “That’s just words. Don’t mean nothing.”

“You’re right.”

“Course, I am. I’m always right!”

“What frustrates me is that I feel like I’ve gone backwards. Right when I thought I put everything to rest.” Ford hits the railing. “He comes back and ruins it. Now, I feel like I did before Weirdmageddon. Terrified that he’s going to come back and destroy me.”

Stan puts his arm over Ford. “Look, how bout this? Next time, he comes back, I’ll go into your dream and punch him dead again.”

“I’m not sure that’s possible.”

“Eh, I’m sure you’ll find a way with that smart guy brain of yours.” Stan starts giving ford a noogie.

Ford laughs. “Okay, okay. I’ll find a way to let you into my dreams.” He playfully pushes Stan away.

“Good. Cause there ain’t no way I’m letting that stupid little jerk come back and hurt you again. You hear?”

“Yeah, yeah.” He has a smile on his face. Most of the tension in Ford’s body is gone. Stan always was able to bring Ford back down and out of his own head when they were kids. Frankly, he doesn’t know how he managed without Stan.

But then again, he does know. He didn’t. He got swindled by a demon and became a criminal in multiple dimensions. Not a single part of Ford doubts the idea that if he had let Stan back in a lot earlier, then none of that would have happened.

There’s a moment of silence between the two of them. “Hey, Stan.”

“Yeah?”

“Thank you.”

[howlsofbloodhounds]

"dead dove with color and killer"

killer's happy ending... derailed? 🥺😢😭

[cw: mention of abuse, abuse apologia]

honestly that feels plausible. killer's perception of what a functional friendship must be so messed up from his experience with chara and nightmare. he thinks a relationship is between a controller and a controlled. i imagine killer imagines his relationship with color as the first time he willingly submits to the role of being controlled. because he trusts color to handle him with care, to have his best interests at heart, to reform him into a good person.

but sometimes, there's this insidious little urge in killer to usurp color, just like he has with chara and nightmare before. but no, it's not for bad reasons this time - this time, it's for the other person's wellbeing. he has good intentions. he needs - he wants - to protect color from all the bad things that color finds himself in. what good is being someone's tool if your owner can't use you properly?

Cw: abuse, dead dove do not eat, and also yandere type of shit and blood and violence in the edit/audio

Just in time for me to have came across this audio and edit lmao.

But yeah you get it!! This fucker lives and breathes in his trauma that totally isnt trauma if you asked him.

and like. i can picture him trying to teach color how he feels is the proper way to use him. provoking color is snapping and yelling at him, praising him and thanking him whenever color does something to punish him for “acting out” and “disobeying.”

its like a reverse of color reforming killer. where killer is trying to teach and reform color into being someone he’s not because he thinks itll keep color safe. come on, say something harsh and demeaning. break my arm, shove me into the walls, show me my place.

and like..he gets unbelievably confused and irritated when color doesn’t or attempts to be kind to him. he hasnt does anything to earn that, unless it is part of colors game. (In which case he’d kiss colors feet cause yes he’s learning!)

and like whenever killer lashes out or hurts color he always does it from what he believes is a place of devotion and care. color wont take the rest, he keeps trying to help people who use him, he keeps being hurt by the world because he doesnt understand how it works. its ok, killer will teach him. he will break colors legs if that means the man will finally allow himself to rest, and he cant go out where someone can once again try to hurt him.

and he’s never “needlessly”—in his definition—cruel. he always apologizes so sincerely for causing color any pain and always does his best to take care of him and never ever ever denies color what he needs or whatever he wants (except if that’s to leave killer, or to help fools who are using him damnit.) he never plays any games with colors food and drink and baths and clothes and bed.

and it only lets up when color is forced to adapt. stop trying to give killer any say over anything or control, command him to do what you want. make him do what you want. if you want to give him kindness and he attempts to argue back, sharply remind him that you make the rules here, not him.

and like..killer is sickeningly pleased when color adapts. proud of color even.

and color..he feels sick. color cant help but wonder if he should’ve helped killer at all. or if this is the only way he can help him; by making “proper” use of him, even if color must use his authority to..adjust the rules a bit.

and like..imagine after color is forced to punish killer..he like. breaks down. starts sobbing and crying and shaking and like killer, bloody broken mangled killer, is smiling and crawls in his lap and hugs him. wipes away all his tears and heaps endless praise on him.

..aw man this timeline makes me unbelievably sad.

[beanghostprincess]

Roger telling Shanks about the world sinking and therefore Shanks refusing to go look for the One Piece is something very plausible, and somehow it only makes the story between Buggy and Shanks way more painful than it already is. Because there is no winner here.

Buggy finding out now about this and how his crew kept it from him and the rest of the world is already asphyxiating, but realizing Shanks knew too must be even dehumanizing, making him feel more left out and fueling the theory of Roger playing favorites with them. And the current situation makes it even worse because he is not finding this out from one of his allies, but from a damn world announcement. But even if he had found out years ago... Even if Shanks had told him... It would've been the same all over again and he would only have more reasons to hate him. Shanks will always be the face Buggy sees whenever he thinks about his lost dreams despite not being the one to blame. He is just always in the right place at the right time for Buggy to do so.

And that takes me to Shanks' POV of the situation (and yes, I am making this Shuggy, because there is no way I wouldn't) and how I believe he would refuse to tell Buggy. At least not right away. Because he knows Buggy resents him for things that aren't his fault. He was aware then, and he is aware now. But back then he still clung to the hope of Buggy accepting to go with him and become pirates together. Grow up together as they have always done, side by side. Teenage Shanks (in this concept of him knowing about the world sinking) wants to run away from what he knows it's a complete loss of time and enjoy the unknown time they have left together with Buggy. Telling Buggy would mean being the one destroying his dreams once again. The one thing Shanks knows in the uncertainty of their future is that he wants Buggy to come with him.

But since he doesn't say anything, Buggy mistakes that silence as cowardice, and Shanks understands why it happens and accepts his decision instead of chasing after him. Because no matter what truth he tells Buggy, it will always have the same outcome.

Also, this comes from a conversation I had with @m0thcl0wn yesterday and I believe Oda owes us quite a few sessions of therapy after making us suffer like this with these theories.

[umbrellacam]

*steeples fingers and stares at my tablet with gimlet eyes*

so. Road to NML. You mean to tell me that the reason the rest of the country, Congress, and the President himself decided to write Gotham off, blow the bridges, and isolate everyone left - all criminals and asylum lunatics and 'undesirables', of course - was in large part due to *checks notes* a satanic rock star's unnatural, irresistible charisma and cult-like media manipulations aimed at dooming the city for his own benefit?

and that in order to find out what actually happens to this villain, who disappears from the Batman and 'Tec storylines...I'd have to *checks notes* read Azrael's event issues?

....yeah, PASS. I only included JPV's book on my reading list when I absolutely had to (*cough* whenever Cass pops up *cough*), so it's off to the wiki summaries for me!

...but okay, on the one hand I find it very funny how thoroughly fandom has excised this demonic media influencer aspect from the collective consciousness of NML - or at least it had never made its way to me via either fic or fandom posts. I know how few people read comics in general in this fandom, and even for those who do, NML is a Beast that only a percentage have tackled (see: me just starting to pick away at it!), so honestly it's not that surprising.

and like it can easily be left out of the story and still leave it coherent lmao!! One can certainly argue things are in fact neater that way; certainly it's not something that would ever be kept (or at least not in the same form) if NML were adapted to another medium, except as perhaps a normal media demagogue (or a montage of them).

but on the other hand...hmm. Thinking about Hurricane Katrina hitting all of six years after the NML storyline played out. And the debate over whether funds should be used for reconstructing New Orleans and other massively damaged areas. And people around the country wondering if New Orleans would or should be rebuilt at all. Or if a vibrant, historic city would just be basically wiped off the map.

I know this is a conversation that happens everywhere and every time a major disaster wrecks a city. There are always huge fights over disaster aid and funding allocations of any kind.

but man. It's something to see this fictionalized depiction in such close proximity to a real life disaster that paralleled it so strongly, and to know that - yes, there are always people who Do Not Abandon Their Homes and work to reclaim them. Yes, massive amounts of aid (federal and otherwise) and federal reconstruction funding did get dispensed. Yes, people cared, and yes, we rebuilt.

so...maybe we do actually need the demonic social media influencer's evil powers in order to comic book logic explain how everyone in the country turned their backs on Gotham and created No Man's Land.

like - no, it's not necessary. the narrative would work without it. and yet...

the premise imagines - requires? - a significantly more callous, selfish populace. Still plausible and compelling! Possibly even stronger as a story since the turnaround for No Man's Land still hinges on winning the country over to open Gotham back up, let aid in, and rebuild. But. You do have to start from - kind of a bleaker take on humanity?

it also kind of reminds me of what scintillyyy pointed out a few weeks ago about Dick killing the Joker, and how actually there's an important comic book superpower interaction going on there, too, with Rancor present massively amplifying Dick's hate and anger to push him over the edge.

but so few people ever notice or remember that and it certainly isn't one of those things that gets transmitted via fandom osmosis. (It was news to me!!) People focus on Dick breaking down and letting loose solely due to being pushed too far.

and that's extremely compelling on its own! It is! Just like the no-satanic-Nick-Scratch NML.

just thinking about fandom's tendency to ellide the supernatural or powered influences that are canonically affecting a situation, in order to explore/focus on more purely humanistic explanations or motivations...that actually end up being darker than what we might reasonably expect from real life, or from a character's typical values.

like it's part wanting to brush off comic book nonsense, part wanting to dive into gritty realism (that's not always realistic), part not having all the information because of learning things secondhand so you construct the most reasonable explanation...idk it's just interesting.

anyway.

more importantly: Dick and Tim are adorable in 'Tec 727-729!! Especially love them trading off yelling each other's names in fear/alarm, and also trading off protecting each other - Dick's "You hurt that kid and you're gonna be eating through a tube!" and Tim's clever solo rescue of a thoroughly captive Dick via clever use of a voice modulator and a two-way radio. The Boys 😊

[atrueneutral]

Look who slid into your inbox 😇 What would a dryad scene between Raphael and your Tav look like? (Not strictly a prompt)

BUT IT BECAME A PROMPT. Because the idea wouldn't leave my head. ---

He was becoming soft - malleable. He’d have to ruminate on when exactly he became putty in her hands, but it was becoming increasingly difficult to tell her ‘no’ whenever she came to him with the whim of an idea to enjoy each other’s company in public.

‘Dates’, she called them.

As a devil, he was used to courting people. There was usually a designated place and time to meet and discuss matters, and when his 'date' arrived, he’d cater to their desires with a charming smile before serving his deal on a silver platter. There was aught else to it aside from the perfect delivery of his lines and the signing of a contract. There was never any hand holding and soft touches, no staying close to each other and being drawn in for an impromptu kiss just because one felt like it.

And there were never any abhorrent creatures such as clowns, djinns, mummies, and-

“Shit, walk faster and don’t make eye-contact…” Tav urged from where she was posed on his arm.

He did not know what or who she was talking about, and thinking that they might be at risk of an attack (which seemed entirely plausible based on his beloved’s rather lively recounting of the last time she’d visited the Circus of the Last Days), Raphael made the mistake of looking around, leading him to make eye-contact with-

“You’re in love, are you not?” called out a lilting, feminine voice. It only took a split moment for him to recognize what the woman was; her nature was made apparent by the glowing markings that curled around her pale green body, the twigs in her red hair and the leaves that composed her scant outfit.

The question the dryad posed caused him to tense.

He should not have made eye-contact.

“I can see it in your eyes, stira. Your journey of-”

“Zethino!” Tav shouted, leaving him and moving in for the dryad. “You are Zethino, correct? The real Zethino?”

“I am, yes,” came the tree-spirit’s breathy reply. “I can see that you, too, are basking in love - a radiant love that you have never before experienced. There has been great suffering, and yet it has built the foundations of impenetrable devotion. Do you admit to this truth?”

“I do, but we’re not interested in-” 

“For one hundred gold, I will look into your hearts and see if your love is eternal, or doomed eternally.”

“No, thank you, Zethino,” Tav said, and she turned to give him an apologetic smile.

But… the dryad’s offer… possible confirmation that She would love him eternally…

Tav looked mildly nervous when she noticed him reaching into his pocket for his coin purse, and Raphael began to wonder why she so ardently wished to decline the offer.

Doubt began to creep in that she did not want to expose that her devotion to him was more penetrable than the dryad seemed to think.

Coin transferred hands, and the dryad magically pocketed the payment.

With a sigh and a shrug, Tav returned to standing beside him.

“Close your eyes. Be still as stone to earth, and remember to breathe…” the dryad requested.

His lip began to curl at the notion, and he heard a brief chuckle from the mouse at his side. Giving Tav a sidelong glance, he could read ‘don’t say I didn’t warn you’ in her humored eyes before she closed them.

He felt like a ripe fool - to close his eyes in the middle of a circus where lowlifes and vagabonds freely traipsed around… He was used to thieves and their mischief, and he’d be opening himself to the opportunity that they might be-

Her hand found his, and his heart lurched.

It (he) needed to know if Her love was eternal!

Raphael closed his eyes, became still as stone, and breathed.

Somehow he was transported to the middle of a forest. Lush plants and flowers filled the spaces between large rocks, pleasant chirping reached his ears and cool mist from the nearby roaring waterfall felt refreshing against his heated skin. He was now positioned at the end of a fallen tree trunk that made up a bridge, and standing at the opposite end was his little mouse.

“I see you. I see the bond between you. So tender. But do you see it for yourselves?” The dryad said, reading her lines off to the side of him. “Raphael: you are in constant war with yourself and with your heart. The heart is fraught, so let us begin with the joyous. When is he happiest?”

Yes, he regretted making eye-contact!

This corniness was made to expose him! Not Her!

And in front of this creature!

“When he’s won a new soul,” Tav said without needing time to consider.

She was placating him! Placating the fiendish side of himself when she surely knew that he is happiest… when he is…

(With her.)

He did not know what he was supposed to do, but Raphael did know he did not want to partake in the farce he paid one hundred gold for any longer. 

He glared at the dryad.

“Is she correct?” the tree-spirit softly inquired. “If so, she will step forward onto the bridge, and should the remaining two questions be answered true, you will go meet her at the center.”

When he faced Tav, he gave her a terse nod.

A flicker of a smile ghosted her lips as she stepped forward.

“Hear how your bond thrums with pleasure. Strong. Vital. Pulsing with affection,” the dryad continued. “Many things delight the heart, but only one makes it sing. Tell me, what does he desire more than anything.”

“To be the Archdevil Supreme,” Tav answered.

Yes, yes!

However…

(Her love and affection.)

An embarrassing admittance for a devil to reveal!

End this sideshow of a spectacle!

Raphael crossed his arms and sharply nodded once more, prompting Tav to again step forward until she landed at the center of the bridge.

“The sweetest loves dance lightly on the tongue. But now, we must dig deeper into the most painful reaches of the spirit. Fear sits in the soul of all - to tame it, we must name it. Raphael - what is his deepest fear?” asked the dryad.

“To be consumed,” Tav stated.

How right she was - the deeply ingrained and horrifying fear that he would one day be consumed and have his existence end at the hand and mouth of his father should he fail…

(Was second to his fear of losing Her.)

Ready to be done, there was purpose in his stride as Raphael moved to meet his beloved.

“Hey, I tried warning you,” Tav laughed. “I knew you would hate thi-”

He pulled her to him, cut her off with a kiss, raised his other hand and…

Snap!

They were back at the Circus, standing side by side.

“Ah, thank you, Zethino,” Tav said, her face flushed. She turned and tugged on the hand she still held. “We’ll be going now.”

The dryad smiled. “A bond and love eternal you two have.”

As they started to walk away, his dearest little mouse threw a response over her shoulder, “Yes, and unlike him, I didn’t need to waste one hundred gold to know that.”

[stormblessed95]

do you still stand by your "jimin is ARMY" theory? it's the first one in your list of pinned theories. I was going through them all to see just how many link back to twitter and how many of those links are broken (so many oof). and anyway I realized this theory doesn't appear plausible to me anymore

Two part answer!

1) if you or anyone else feels like taking on the task of going through my old posts and figuring out which twt links work still and which don't and that I need to fix. I would be immensely thankful. I do not have the time, but if I want to get my blog as a good source for people, I should make sure my video clips are accessible. And I do. I just also know I won't have the time to do much about it right now, so if someone wants to help me by just giving me a list with links of posts that need to be updated, that would be amazing. I only ask that the list be DM'd to me. That way it doesn't get lost in my inbox and I can go work slowly through it whenever I have some free time and am up for it.

Thank you in advance to anyone who decides they are up for such a monumental task

2) yes and no in regards to your theory question. I do still believe that the theory is probably true in regards to the time I wrote it and in the earlier years of Jikook jikookering. Like I'm sure I said in that post, I don't think they use ARMY as a code name for each other every time, or even most of the time. But enough to take notice and context clues often can tell you which times those *might* be.

And I add the no in there because I don't think they do that anymore really. But that doesn't change that it might've once been true or something that they used to do 😊 and they could've stopped for any number of reasons. The one I think is most likely, they are fairly grown now and probably don't feel the need to be sneaky flirty in the same ways lol

But that's just me!

[sleepymaven]

The Bsd "Fyodor is Atsushi's Father" Theory:

My Not-so-Deep, Not-so-Serious Explanation on Why This Could Totally be Canon

Signed: A Sleep-Deprived Idiot

(Spoilers for the Entirety of Bungou Stray Dogs)

So... with Chapter 118 in bsd releasing, I have noticed a lot of Fyodor as Atsushi's father related things popping up and... I'm not mad about.

If anything, I'm happy the theory is getting more attention. People even seem to be taking it as canon fact, even if just jokingly.

Really, I believed the theory was plausible since it first was brought up in the fandom, but I never actually thought it would be canon because that just seemed too crazy. But those were the thoughts of a sweet summer child since the manga has gotten to the point where that might be the least crazy thing possible.

So, here I am at my keyboard yet again, ready to ramble about how, if this does somehow turn out to be canon, this might be actually rather predictable even to those who don't dive deep into the nitty-gritty lore.

Now, I won't ramble on and on endlessly about the book and Atsushi's ambiguous past and how he may be the book or a page from the book and yaddy-yadda. Instead, I'll focus on some key aspects of Atsushi's character design. First off...

His hair.

As I said, this is not all that serious or deep, so take my words with a grain of salt before you start bashing me or something for being ridiculous. You signed up for ridiculous when you started reading past the title.

Anyway, back to Atsushi's hair.

As we almost all know, Atsushi used to have a black streak in his hair that was later removed for unknown reasons, but he also has white hair.

Now, I could jokingly proclaim, "Hehe, biologically impossible Fyodor x Nikolai lovechild," and be done with it, but I am no clown, unlike Nikolai. No, I have a better, probably completely wrong, idea.

Most of us know that Fyodor has a thing for white-haired men.

Exhibit A: Every fucking member of the Decay of Angels

I rest my case.

Also, I feel the need to mention that 3 out of 6 of them have red-ish eyes while the other two have purple-ish/blue eyes. Just pointing out that little tidbit I noticed while finding pics for them.

So, it would make sense for Fyodor to pick and choose which attributes to give to his quote-on-quote "son" when he made him from the book, picking out certain traits he found appealing and pleasing to the eye.

(Also, yes, this could mean that Fyodor could have chose specific attributes that were similar to Nikolai. Boom, lovechild route.)

This could explain certain similarities between the characters who seemingly have no biological connection between one another. Their only connection then only being through Fyodor by just knowing him.

Got all that? Alright, next up...

His eyes.

Now, Atsushi's eyes are rather unique, even for the world of Bungou Stray Dogs. What also sticks out about them is the fact that they are pointed out and focused in from time to time.

Example:

(Fucking gorgeous eyes he has, btw)

To break down the colors of his eyes... While in normal lighting in the anime, they appear to be normally purple and yellow with just a hint of green in it, but under the full moon (as seen here) we can see that his eyes are a light green-yellow at the bottom and purple on the top that fades into blue.

(There are also a few times where his eyes also change while using his ability. Like when they turn almost fully yellow.)

I want to point out the colors of his eyes and the fact that they change due to certain circumstances (i.e: using his ability, being under the full moon), which is clearly not normal in their world seeing as how other ability users don't seem to do that at all.

(Edit here: I actually would like to mention that, in the manga, Nikolai's eyes also change color. The green one sometimes will change to match his normal eye whenever he uncovers it. I saw a theory talking about how it might change depending on whether or not he is lying at the time, which is pretty neat. More Atsushi and Nikolai parallels.)

Now, this might seem like a bit of a stretch just like the rest of this post, but the colors used for his eyes are similar to the eye colors of people Fyodor knows, though they are different shades.

Purple like Fukuchi. Green and blue from Nikolai.

Fyodor's eyes are also a shade of purple, kind of, so... Yeah, that works too, but Fukuchi's shade of eyes are closer to Atsushi's.

Yeah, that's all I can think of now and this is already way too long (if I start talking about Atsushi's mysterious past, I'm going to make this a mile long. Maybe later tho), so I'm ending it here for now.

Alright, bye ya'll.

[frostycatblr-fandom-files]

omg yES I'd love a part two to the Captain Rex headcanons with an anxious reader with the relationship part since you offered! ;u; I loved the first part so much (and that you included more from the 501st!) tytytyty 💙💙💙

Aw anon I'm so glad! Thank you for coming back as well, and continuing to fuel my feelings for our fine captain. 💙

Warnings and Information: Largely the same as part one. Undescribed fem!Reader with unspecified anxiety/anxious tendencies. Lots of fluff and other good feelings, primarily. Follows bullet point format. No Mando'a used this time. Reader is given different "nicknames" from the Clones to by-pass the use of a name in some cases.

Word count: 2,458

The set-up 

The first time he goes to ask you if you'd like to grab some caf together, or go check out that little corner store not too far from the base by speederbike that one of your coworkers mentioned to you in passing, Rex puts in the effort to clean up his armor a bit. Now he doesn't go so far as to polish and repaint all the parts, but he doesn't want to look fresh off a battlefield either where he's caked in mud and dirt and ash. He wants to show you he cares by looking nice when he goes to lay out his offer. You're past the probationary period following your transfer, and he thinks it'd be nice to sort of celebrate that. 

You're in your jumpsuit, cheerfully strutting around the hangar to complete the necessary work a little earlier than usual this morning when he first sees you. "Good morning, Captain Rex!" You're all bright-eyed and sunny smiles for so early in the day. Must be in a really good mood now that you feel the weight that comes with being fresh blood in the "office" has been lifted from your shoulders. Can breathe a little easier when there are less eyes scrutinizing your every move. "You're in a good mood today." Rex replies, careful to keep the right balance of being personable and professional within earshot of other civilian staff, as always, "Is there a special reason?" Your grin and your body language tells him everything he needs to know. 

"Oh, no reason. Reasons, on the other hand…" you suggest, biting your lower lip to keep yourself from giggling within earshot of those same workers that you've seen him eyeing out of caution. You can afford to be a little braver now, but you should still be cautious. Rex smiles, delighted to hear and see that you're not feeling quite so anxious as you once were. You still have your nervous, self-soothing quirks like fiddling with the wrist-strap of your time device whenever you wear one, or twirling a stylus between your nimble fingers or rocking softly on the balls of your feet. Rex doesn't see you utilize them quite as often these days now that you're off probation, and it makes him feel so much better to see you more relaxed and comfortable here. 

He still asks his brothers to keep an eye on you or give you any help in his stead if he senses you becoming overly anxious about anything. Dogma still offers to take any paperwork down to General Skywalker for you (and is certain to remember to knock, now). Fives and Echo still hang out around your desk and your workspace whenever they get the chance. Tup drops by with small snacks or drinks from the mess if you can't spare a moment to get away from your work (and he'll never say no to an offer to help fix up his hair, either). Kix has been by a few times to come sit with you when the anxiety gets really bad, coaching you through your grounding exercises, or acting as a GAR medic (who has authority to treat civilian staff in non-emergency situations) he can administer something to take the edge off. And Jesse has made plausible excuses for you to your boss's face if you've needed to step away and collect yourself, if it's really severe. 

They all figure if the captain likes you, and on occasion asks them to check in with you for his "peace of mind" ("Captain Rex has a cruuuuush~" "Hardcase stop before you get yourself in troub-" "It's not just the Captain, Fives. She does too.") they shouldn't be afraid to cement their friendships with you anymore. 

“Oh, by the way, Captain,” you call over your shoulder as you walk off to where you’d been summoned, “your armor looks very nice today.” Unfortunately, you were called away to take care of something just as he plucks up his nerve to ask if you’d like to grab a cup of caf with him before the day really gears up, but he doesn’t have to wait much longer for another opportunity.

The first "date"

It comes as a rather impromptu and unofficial thing, with one of the mechanics shouting across the hangar as he wraps up his welding kit that the repairs have been finished on a LAAT that had taken a heavy beating. "Captain! Gunship's good to go!" These guys are good. You get to the gunship before Rex does, admiring the handiwork of the repairmen in awe. "Wow… almost looks brand new, doesn't it?" He agrees with a chuckle, elbow to elbow with you. "What's it like to fly in one of these?" you ask, turning to him with earnest curiosity. It surprises him. "Weren't you transferred to the base in one of these?"

You shake your head, the datapad cradled a little tighter against your chest. "No, I got here by passenger shuttle." 

Stay here, he tells you, he has an idea. He just needs to go find where Hawk is. 

Hawk takes little time to get kitted-up in order to go take the LAAT for a test flight. Rex boards the gunship first, taking hold of one of the handles overhead before offering a hand out to you to help you up. 

You regard the offered hand with mild apprehension, unclear if this is even allowed. "A-are you certain I can be up there? I'm just a civilian. I don't know that I can-" A simple smile is all he needs to calm you, quell your fraying nerves. “I’ll think of some clever excuse if anyone asks.” Rex promises you with one of his charming smiles and playful lift of his brow. He allows you to stand beside him so you feel more secure, showing you where best to grip the support handles as Hawk gears everything up. “Best hold on,” he warns you before you’d feel that lurch in your stomach as the ground falls away fast. 

He tells Hawk to take it pretty easy, just a few test laps around the base and not too fast, and Rex keeps his eye on you as Hawk climbs the gunship high enough for his liking. Any sign from you that this was getting to be too much, and he would call it off. But you’re all giddy smiles and awed murmurings as you bravely peek at the ground far below from time to time. 

“Beginning aerial test laps, Captain. I promise to go easy, ma’am!” Hawk calls back to the pair of you, beginning to maneuver and swing the gunship out to the right, making you bump hips with the Captain, unprepared to brace for the movement with your legs in addition to your upper body. You go to apologize, but he puts his hand on your opposite hip without a word (at first) to hold you a little closer to him to help you feel secure and steady. Rex apologizes to you for not warning you about the nature of the  turns. “Flown in these things more times than I can count; it’s all just second nature to me.” You suppose that makes a lot of sense, surely a little flushed in the face, being so close. On the next turn, you know to anticipate it this time, but you still lean pretty heavily against him.

What happens next however is absolutely not your fault. Hawk purposefully takes a much sharper turn as he completes one of his last laps, and with the centrifugal force you’re really pushed up against Captain Rex, practically chest to chest with him now, and then laughs apologetically from the cockpit. “Whoops, sorry sweetheart! Got a little carried away on that one. You alright?” You’re fine, you answer just loud enough for Hawk to hear, finding yourself still so close against Rex, his hand still on your hip to hold you steady. You and Rex look at each other for one long moment, almost missing what Hawk says about taking you in for a landing, feeling a little lost in the other’s eye…

Once you’re back on the ground, you thank Hawk for letting you come along on the test flight for the repaired LAAT. “Oh, you’re welcome! I hope it was nice despite that one turn. Just got a little ahead of myself and forgot you’re not used to those kinds of ships.” You promise it’s okay, and thank him again. You should probably get back to work now, you explain, a little color in your cheeks after smiling at Rex and bidding him goodbye next.

He makes no mention of the transfer-smear of lip product found on his Captain’s face, one that looks an awful lot like the color you’re wearing this morning, until he’s certain you’re out of earshot. “That’s a nice color on you, Captain.” Rex takes a moment to clean his cheek of the evidence, a gentle pout playing across his features, his broad nose creasing as he responds to Hawk’s compliment. “You swung too wide on that last turn before we landed…”

As partners 

It’s not long after that that things kick off. Secretly. There’s no official code or regulation against this (you’d know: Echo and Dogma checked for one extensively, separately and together) relationship taking place, but you’re going to keep it on the down-low for the most part. Rex has a professional image to maintain as a captain of the GAR, and you risk being transferred out should any of your higher-ups feel this partnership of sorts comes as a hindrance or serious detriment to your job as a civilian. (“Do you know how many want to be in your shoes? Do you have any idea just how sought-after this position is?” “A-A very good idea, actually. That’s why I’m here, sir. I promise, I’m not going to make any trouble.” (Oh how Fives and Jesse had wanted to give the civilian staff member you reported to a piece of their minds for talking to you like that.)) You and Rex find a way to make it work, with a little help from his brothers.

He visits you during work. Often as he can. Sometimes it's planned out in advance, where the two of you have lots of time alone. He makes sure that you're doing okay, and that you're taking care of yourself, of course, but primarily these opportunities to see you are just to spend time with you. Take his mind off of the war. Take your mind off of your job, or whatever troubles you. Sometimes it's discreet, spur of the moment little meetings in empty offices… or secluded corners his brothers have told him about. 

"There's a blind spot in the cameras around here," Hardcase explains, unprompted, one afternoon over nutrimush in the mess hall, "You can get away with a lot of stuff right there behind the shelving." He's not sure if he's about to reprimand Hardcase as his Captain or to thank him as a brother for this insight for a long moment. "What do you mean by get away with a lot of stuff, 'Case?" There's quite a few options it turns out. Stash some contraband, (re)paint your armor without being bothered too much, or just… y'know. Have a nap? (Damn, okay, aside from whatever Hardcase means by contraband that sounds like a pretty great spot.) "Maybe I'll… check it out." Rex agrees with a simple shrug. 

Oh and if he does, he has to be careful about a certain box on the shelves. Can't put empty snack wrappers back in it otherwise it'll attract ants again, Hardcase says he learned that one the hard way and it took a while to get it back under control just short of throwing away his whole collection of snacks. Two of them are welcome to just about anything they find in the box if Rex takes you there, but the energy drinks are off limits. 

"Or just leave Hardcase five credits if you do take one." Echo calls from a little further down the table, pouring over some section of the regulation manual related to your job that you were having trouble understanding. (They used a lot of unnecessary and complicated words because it was translated into Basic from another galactic language.) "Fives and I do it all the time." A few more brothers confirm that they do the same since being let in on Hardcase's little secret. Dogma insists he does not. "I don't like these crazy energy drinks they come up with. 'Trotting Tauntaun' and 'Hyperspace Rush'? Makes me feel sick to my stomach and my heart race…" (It's probably all the caffeine, Kix calls back to him from Rex's left. Dogma might have a low tolerance for it and that's why he doesn't like it.) 

This little nook within the hangar becomes the perfect place to decompress whenever Captain Rex notices you are looking more anxious than typical. One of his men has stashed away an old GAR-issue blanket that's stained with various smears of cobalt blue - 501st's Blue - but still plenty warm and comfortable to wrap up in. You can tell that it's Fives who added a little stack of flimsi scraps to write notes on the first time you come back here to this corner of the hangar with the Captain. Rex can see from a mile away that Kix is to thank for the healthier options within the box of Hardcase's snacks. 

You're both not sure who scribbled your name along with his under the list of people who were "invited" here, but it makes you cry, in a happy way. To welcome their brother here would be one thing - all Clones had come up with secret, secluded spaces for themselves to have their privacy and establish stealthy boundaries for themselves and their well-being - but they were inviting you too. None of your other colleagues know about this sequestered space. They trusted you to keep their secrets. They liked you. Really liked you. 

"To our Captain and his girl" the note begins, waiting for you both on top of the neatly folded blanket when Rex first helped you here, trying to help you settle your nerves after you were badly frightened by a speederbike backfiring outside the base as it whizzed past, "Welcome to our cozy little corner! We hope you like it here and trust that you'll keep it a better secret than General Skywalker and Senator Amidala being a "thing". Speaking of, figured it was time to let the loth-cat out of the bag now that you're both getting as serious as this war allows~. - The 501st"

Don't have a fic taglist for the time being, but I'll likely start one soon if I can figure out how to make those fancy forms some people have since I write a variety of stuff. For now, though, if you'd like to join a taglist for specific types of fics (for example just TBB-centric or just TCW-centric (or both)) don't hesitate to ask. 🩷

[Part one] [Masterlist] [Reqests: OPEN]

[castlebyersafterdark]

I wonder if the rest of the party have heard the things Mike says during sex to Will, or even Will's noises woops, and - In the nicest, not actually mean, best friend way - I wonder if they bring it up or do some light teasing about it especially to Mike 🤭🫣 wonder what they think (maybe not freshly together Byler but after some years when everyone's super chill)

I think these two are so funny because they really try to be so "normal" about each other, but once their friends know and everything's cool, and they have support... they're embarrassingly obsessed with each other. I mean, they always havs been, but now it's of a different flavor. "Which one is the clingy boyfriend?" Uhhhhh BOTH 🤭 anyway, as they get more open with their affection, the comfort level raises. Maybe too comfortable haha. Cue the party side-eying as Mike and Will get lost in their own world. Always whispering to each other, sneaking a kiss whenever its safe and they can, personal space becomes nonexistent. The infamous handsy-ness during movie nights - dead giveaway when Will involuntarily squeaks or whimpers while Mike thinks he's being subtle under their shared blanket. And their friends absolutely calling them out for a conspicuous hickey. And they're always sneaking away.

One day at school, Lucas is in the boys bathroom during third period. As he's standing in front of the sink he hears the sound of a palm slamming against the locked stall door, the last one in the row. Rolls his eyes and winces at the unmistakable babble and breathy moan of one Mike Wheeler. "That's it angel. Fuck, you're perfect, babydoll, so fucking pretty." Plausible denisbility to the gender of the other participant, but he's one of the few who knows the truth that it's Will Byers on his knees. He makes fun of them at lunch, mostly for the fact that they couldn't even make it to ten a.m. that day.

Another time, Dustin learns his lesson the hard way when he shows up early to Mike's house for a campaign session planned for later that day. He opens the side door to the basement and hears before he sees the insatiable, insufferable duo. Mike sitting on the couch, with Will straddling him, riding him slowly with unmistakable noises punched out of him as he bounces on Mike's lap. Both fortunate for his sanity and unfortunate for the reality of what he's walked in on, he doesn't get much of an eyeful, because Will's wearing that damned wizard costume. And Mike's got part of his homemade armor on. But Dustin is not safe for long. The worst part is their banter. Kill him now. "Ohhh, Michael. That's right, lay your hands on me, you’re the only, hmm, only one who can save us. Take me, oh god, take me and be healed, take what you need from me." "Yes, William, so good, come on, give me what I need. Give me your wisdom, your body." "Uhhh, oh yeah, Michael, that's good. Say my name again, address me by my full name, love." "Uh, fuck yeah, Will the-"

Slam. He's done. He's going home now that he shook himself from the transfixed shock as he was subjected to that trainwreck. Dustin’s going to be ill. If it was just walking in on his friends having sex, fine. Awkward, but ultimately hilarious after the fact. That??? He could have lived his entire life without knowing that. Especially with whatever the hell those accents were. Screw going home. He's heading over next door to Lucas's to immediately tell him what just happened.

[agentrouka-blog]

I think the funniest thing about Sansa antis is that, 85% of the time whenever they say smth bad about her, they almost always pretty much show us that they not only misunderstood/didn't read her chapters, they also do the same with the other POV characters

'Sansa is obviously Cat's favourite' Cat straight up said Bran is her favourite, so they didn't pay attention to her chapters

'Sansa is a bully to Arya' in Arya's VERY FIRST CHAPTER there was a scene showing her to be wronf about Sansa (saying Sansa was attracting Mordane's attention when Arya admitted it was her shouting that caused her to look at the girls, and then contradicting herself one second later CUZ SHE'S UNDERSTANDABLY BIASED)

'The Hound is there to teach Sansa about the real world and how her views are wrong' GRRM has shown time and time again he is a romantic and believe in chivalry and goodness and projects this into Sansa. Saying she's wrong is a misunderstanding of the series as a WHOLE

'Jon hates Sansa' yes, Jon 'Winterfell belongs to my sister' 'Sansa looked radiant' 'Sansa would call this an enchanment' 'Of Sansa, brushing Lady's coat and singing' Snow absolutely loathes his half sister because she called him her half brother. This totally overrides any fondness and genuine affection he has for her and he doesn't care for her. This is totally an accurate read of Jon Snow's character.

Its so funny, just one character and already they let their hatred of her affect how they read other POVs.

"Saying she's wrong is a misunderstanding of the series as a WHOLE"

This pretty much sums it up.

Hating and dismissing Sansa has such a distorting effect on what people think GRRM is saying about other characters and those who interact with her. It's impossible to get a plausible grip on the series if you think we're supposed to consider the traumatized alcoholic child murderer the voice of reason, or that the 27-year-old ordering his pre-teen forced child bride to strip is somehow a victim in this scenario. Complete disconnect.

[taissaswifelowkey]

Yellowjackets watching horror films with you

1996 timeline, all characters aged up!

a/n: im getting along my way on tumblr, unc status is no longer in my list of achievements 😍

warnings: none, but light mentions of blood and lighttt spoilers of the show if you can recognise them. gayyy, yellowjackets propaganda, proofread but there light be lingering mistakes!!

📚 taissa would use her logic and reason upon watching the horror film you set up. she just needs to convince her brain that way her eyes are seeing are nothing but pure, overly exaggerated fiction. but that doesn’t mean she won’t rest her head on your shoulders and hold your hands in a tight grip. and no it’s bot because she’s scared, she’s just cold 🙄 you don’t say anything at all, knowing how she’ll get in conselour taissa turner mode. so yeah, you’ll pull her closer and comfort her, all while ignoring the slight pride you feel at being able to hold her in your arms.

🛹 there are no real chances of you and van completely focusing on the movie. every time you’d either hide in the covers, clinging onto each other, blocking each other’s eyes when a scene is too intense or bloody. once you got so scared from a scene that you stayed up to watch some kids' show afterwards 💀💀💀 but your most favourite part is when she would hold in her firm arms. she’s silly but she knows how to be chivalrous. listen listen, you two would wait for each other in the bathrooms. too scared that some malevolent entity or human is out there waiting to strike after the flush. is it ridiculous? yes but still plausible!!

🕷️ nat isn’t really fased tbh. that doesn’t mean she would not hide her face in your neck though. i know some people perceive her as this stoic person who can handle about anything, but she also has emotions and is just a girl :( you’re just her extra comfort to the movie that’s on. and both of her comforts? she’s in heavennnn. but trust she will pull some sneaky prank in the dark. like drag her fingertips on your arms or outrightly scream at a jumpscare. that little prick :( you definitely tried to payback though.

🪵 shauna will analyse the whole entire film, so you won’t be very affected by the jumpscares. she’s a true letterboxd girlie, will try to come go with a buy literary device to develop her point. she would apologise for rambling but you would just press kisses all over her face, telling her to continue. mostly because whenever she’d turn everything into an essay you’re soooo weak. you hardly even register the screams in screen, your attention focused on her. you focus on her every word, loving how much of a nerd she is.

🦉 we’ve seen misty’s reactions to the rat drowning in the pool…that girl can handle anything gory. from half a detached leg to…full detached legs. it might not look like it but she comforts you whenever there’s an unsettling scene. she would just look at it in awe, before sliding her arms around your shoulders, all “don’t worry it’s just fiction 🥰🥰🥰” a guy losing all his blood? please. that’s barely anything. after this she’ll definitely read christmas carol or something to you afterwards, as if she did not practically compliment the antagonist’s “surgery skills”.

🎀 lottie is too busy feeding you snacks to pay attention the movie. whenever you would talk about it or turn to hide your face from the splatter of gore, she’d be like :( how are you so pretty while you nearly choked on lemonade through your nose. unflattering. not your proudest moment. in fact you apologised while she just shushed your concerns, peppering kisses all over your face and whispering that nothing will ever happen to you as long as she’s there with you. before she’s back to paying attention to the film. that does not mean she didn’t get queasy though. she’s just better at facing these things with you.

🧸 horror movies with jackie? she’s ALLLL over you. like her body is practically slumped on you, refusing to look at the screen. why couldn’t you just…not watch something like a musical? or a sitcom? literally anything but that???? do you want your girlfriend to have a heart attack? so you, being the chivalrous knight in shining armour, hold her. even offer your sweatshirt before leaving, like that “she’ll always have a piece of you”. (you had to convince her to let you go before her parents came back, not wanting to overstay your welcome. it was already four in the afternoon 😭😭)

[candycandy00]

Do you think Sukuna is or was a rapist?

Yes. I know there’s been some discussion about it and different people feel strongly about different answers, but for me, there’s definitely strong enough evidence for me to think he is/was. 

Let’s look at the evidence:

1.) In his very first scene, he specifically mentions women twice. The first time literally asking, “Where are the people? The women?” While grinning maniacally. Could he have simply meant that he wanted to kill a bunch of women? Sure, but I think the much more obvious interpretation is that he wanted them for carnal purposes. And the author knows this is the obvious interpretation of this dialogue. That’s likely why they used it. It was a convenient way of revealing that Sukuna is a sadistic monster. 

2.) His threat towards Nobara. He specifically mentions her to Yuji and strongly implies that he’ll do something very unsavory to her in particular (when both her and Megumi are in the area). Why single her out? Why mention her, the only girl, in particular? Why mention that she “seems lively” and that he’ll have fun with her? Now, could he have only meant that he’d have fun fighting/killing her? Sure, but why her and not Megumi, who is clearly stronger than her and would definitely put up a more “lively” fight? Again, I think the obvious implication here is the one the author intended. 

3.) We are told outright that Sukuna “lives according to his pleasure”. Meaning he seeks out things that bring him pleasure. What’s one of the most common and well known physical pleasures? Sex. And with this phrasing, it’s pretty strongly implied that he takes what he wants. Again, it’s possible that this line only meant that he ate good food whenever he wanted (something he does say later on, along with another line I’ll discuss next). But like with the other points, I think the obvious interpretation includes sexual pleasure. 

4.) Sukuna himself says, “If people are amusing, I’ll play with them.” He says this right after saying he eats when he wants. I think this works on proving the previous point, that he pursues different types of pleasure. Now, could he mean that he’ll fight people who seem strong? Of course, but I feel like he would have just said that if that’s all he meant. By saying it the way he did, it implies something broader. There are different ways to “play with” a person after all. So again, it seems obvious to me that we’re supposed to read this as him saying he’ll fuck someone he finds attractive and fight someone who seems strong. 

There’s also some less concrete evidence that doesn’t really prove that Sukuna raped anyone but instead makes it seem more plausible: 1.) Sukuna is a violent, sadistic villain who thinks nothing of murdering lots of innocent people and also eats people, is rape really off the table for him? 2.) We’re told in the manga that some villages threw festivals in his honor and gave him offerings. People were terrified of him and wanted to appease him. Back in the Heian era, it seems extremely plausible that women were offered to him. And 3.) One of the songs Gege listed as a “theme song” for Sukuna is (s)aint by Marilyn Manson, which has some rather sexually charged lyrics. I think this could definitely imply that Sukuna at the very least has an interest in sex. 

So yeah, I think all of this together strongly implies that Sukuna had his way with plenty of women in the Heian era. Now, you could argue all of those points individually. And individually, those might be good arguments. But taken all together, it gets harder to argue them. To deny that Sukuna is probably a rapist requires you to purposely interpret several scenes in the most unlikely ways possible. 

It’s not that I want him to be a rapist. I just don’t think it’s a good idea to completely deny the darker or more problematic aspects of a character.