#you do not understand the suffering I went through just to put in the entire title

[mossify]

Whoever did this to the Genius page for Mr. Capgras Encounters A Secondhand Vanity: Tulpamancer's Prosopagnosia/Pareidolia (As A Direct Form Of Trauma To The Fusiform Gyrus) by Will Wood and the Tapeworms, I fucking love you and hate you at the same time. (platonic) (joking)

[artsy-waffle19]

They literally put Edwin through every possible gay-romance trope but made it realistic and that's so special to me like

we got the "probably former friend can't handle feelings and turns into bully instead" but it doesn't end with them, making up and being happy, they break apart, things escalate and they both suffer from that situation for a major part of their existence. With a bit of luck and a LOT of growing they manage to talk it out and the victim finds it in himself to forgive his bully but it's never going to be truly fine. But even though they both suffer tremendously, they are faced to deal with themselves in the process and find a kind of peace they wouldn't have gotten otherwise. Because maybe it's better to hurt for a long time only to realise that it really doesn't have to be torture to be the way you are and finally freeing yourself entirely than quietly live without the conflict but also without the realisation and resenting yourself for its entirety.

then there's the situation with the cat king. Older, emotionally unstable guy obsesses over younger inexperienced guy who actually understands him and causes some sort of gay awakening. But instead of some "I can fix him" bullshit with them, ending up happily ever after because "they're the only ones who understand each other"TM we get to see Edwin set boundaries and standing up for himself which benefits the both of them. For Edwin this ends in going "Hey thank you for opening that door to discovering that part of myself but I'm actually gonna have to leave you at the doorstep now" and for the cat king it ends up with him actually feeling seen because for once somebody didn't fall for his probably usual game of "I'm bored so I'm going to make a game of getting that guy to do what i want by seducing him". The fact that they don't end up together is the reason they were good for each other.

Also the situation with Monty which is basically the experience of a lot of queer peoples first relationship. They meet and they're both somehow new to all of this. Being queer, relationships, all that stuff. And they get along and share some interests, they like soending time with each other and technically it's like in a romance book because they meet and one of them is immediately interested and then they talk and they sit on a swingset and they kiss. And there's the excitement about "apparently I'm making my first experience with romance right now" and the worry of "I'm queer...I have it harder with relationships...what if this is the best option i have? what if it's the only one?" so they go through all the romance book tropes but the spark simply isn't there and it ends in one of them getting way more invested tha the other and they eventually end up breaking up in blood. But in a way both of them got an idea about what they actually want in life out of it so even if that sone didn't end well, it did give them something.

And last but not least the "in love with best friend who likes someone else/someone of the opposite gender specifically" but instead of having that best friend be secretly in love with the character all along or suddenly turn homophobic and the friendship being ruined they talk about it and they move on and the friendship isn't damaged and in a way it might even be better because sometimes our feelings are unrequited and sometimes that's okay.

I just really really love how the show took all of those options for cheesy and in a way sometimes even forced romance tropes and went "hey, life is not a romance novel but actually that kind of makes it better because look where it got you now"

[bumblinv]

--- human's period ☆ﾟ.*･｡ﾟ

platonic!various x gn!human!reader

!! in my hc, na'vi women doesn't menstruate !!

jake and your friends takes care of you during your time of the month. basically just period comfort with momma jake

part 1 part 2!

"they. peed. blood"

spider's terrified screech brings jake one thought;

periods.

and he was dammed right.

the moment he stepped into your marui, he found the kids circling around your bed. their faces contorted with worry yet suffers from cluelessness because they could only watch as you curl yourself into a ball. hand clutching your stomach as you cry into kiri’s lap.

his eyes darted to the blanket under your legs, wich were soaked with blood. jake clicks his tongue with sympathy, "poor baby"

your friends moved back, forming a circle behind jake as they watch him kneel on your bedside.

“this your first period?���

“yes. my... my second day, sir” you whimpered out a weak answer.

“they never left their marui until noon, and we found them like this”

“i never knew periods could get this worst”

“did they got shot?”

you were overwhelmed.

the staring, the murmurs, your marui being crowded. having to experience all of that stimulations mixed with your cramps, made you shake. jake could feel it once he puts his hand on your upper arm.

“will they die?”

“they wont, spider”

“bro, how do you know?”

“shh!”, finally neteyam hisses

even neteyam understand that their questions were all honest, yet stupid that jake doesn’t even spare them any care. his full attention is fixed on your vulnerable state.

“no, kiddo. don’t curl yourself up like that”

“it hurts", you groaned. another wave of pain shakes your entire body.

“baby, squeezing your stomach like that wouldn’t make it any better. lay normally”

“they would move if they can, dad”

kiri's words made his gaze soften. he could see your tiny body jerks slightly with every wave of pain that goes through you. you were sobbing, yet no sound comes out of your mouth

“im gonna help you, okay sweetie?”, jake gives your upper arm a comforting squeeze, “we’re gonna get through this together”

the warmth he offers makes you nod weakly. jake smiles, satisfied with your response. then he turned his head towards his daughter,

“do you have medicine for muscle cramps?” the girl looks at her father, clueless. but the confidence in jake’s voice sounds like he knows what he was doing. with that, kiri nods surely.

“i could come out with something”

“good”

kiri waves her hand at tsireya, signaling her to come closer. ever so gently, the beautiful metkayina moved your head to her lap so the sully could run off and complete her father’s demand  

jake puts his other hand on tsireya's shoulder, “you stay to help them clean up, okay? and neteyam” his head turns towards his eldest, “get us warm water, son”

“yes, sir”

“what can we do?” lo’ak asks as his brother went running

“you boys could help, by giving them space”

your watery eyes met with jake's, whispering a weak thank you as your marui, at last, went quiet.

if jake had let them inside longer, you would’ve broke down because even with them being outside, their noises still fills your head

“what is this period? a disease?”

“you see spider, the female human body-”

tsireya could only sigh, “they are good friends, worrying over you like that. but they were being too loud"

"you're right kiddo. now its all quieted down, lets get you cleaned up, yeah?”

"yeah..."

not long after you could feel his warm hands coming down. lifting you up by behind your knees and back. you might think that your weight would have weighted him down, but to jake, it was like carrying a mere child

“tsireya, please get the blanket for me. oh good, the blood doesn't soak up your bed”

“i put the blanket there so when i leak, my bed doesn’t get soaked”, you grin

“great thinking”, tsireya chuckles. but her laugh quickly died out.

you were whimpering in pain.

jake was only settling you down on your bed, yet you look so hurt. “sorry sweetie”, jake whispers after you flinched some more. the man was just straightening your stiffen limbs

the girl approaches you, giving your hand a comforting squeeze.

“everything’s sore, hm?” jake tucks your bangs behind your ears as you nod helplessly.

“i guess i'll wash my blanket after i get better”

“no, you stay here” he ruffles your hair, standing up and grabs your bloody blanket from tsireya’s grasps.

“jake, you don’t have to”

he laughs, “kiddo. if you’ve raised 4 children, you’ve cleaned worst”

“but its gross”

jake looks at you with confusion. why do you have to bring yourself down like that, for something as natural as breathing? he bites his lip. he remembers someone who would insist that he doesn’t need to help wash her ‘dirty’ bloody blankets.

oh how you remind him of her.

he went back to his previous position, kneeling beside you. golden eyes fixed on yours.

“baby, what’s dirty could be cleaned. after all, what’s so dirty about blood?”

you went silent.

“period blood are as natural as snots, tears, and other body fluid you have. so, no biggie, yeah?”

“no... biggie” you repeated after him. a small smile on your lips

“atta girl” jake grins, his hand went up to wipe away your last tear. “i'm gonna wash this. and while i'm gone, tsireya will help you get cleaned up, okay?” and with your nod, he smiles and walk off.

he was about to step out to the beach, but tsireya’s worried call stopped him.

“will they be okay?”

“they will, kiddo" jake shoots her an assuring smile, "they are in good hands”

and he was right.  

the second he walked back to your marui, he couldn’t help to stop on his tracks. your marui was filled with joyful chatter, meaning you were getting better. and he could hear laughing too. your laughs

“bro, i thought you were dying”

“oh please”

“no offence, but you do look like you were dying” jake recognize that voice. it was spider’s

then rotxo’s iconic snickers was heard,

“when ya called jake, what was the shit ya told him? somethin' bout them peein’ out blood?”

“spider!” you exclaimed, voice full of embarrassment

“oh, cmon boys. leave them alone”

jake’s chuckle startled all of you.

your marui went silent again. even rotxo shuts his mouth.

you never knew why, but the sudden awkwardness coming over every time jake steps in is unbearable. maybe it happens because none of you were used to the usually strict man being so loose.

“i... uh, i’ve washed your blanket. should dry by tomorrow”

“thank you” you smile at him. jake returned your smile.

your friends are around you, again. but this time, you didn’t seem to bother. you were enjoying they company, even. they were all sitting down near your bedside with empty bowls around their feet.

good, they had feed you

his eyes drift to your side where he found neteyam, pressing a small water sack on your stomach. presumably filled with warm water. but the ceramic mug you were holding catches his attention the most.

the mug was filled to the brim with liquid that smells almost sour. he recognize it. and its strong yellow color, brings him back home.

“kiri made them drink pee”

“i did not, ao’nung”, the girl rolls her eyes as rotxo’s ugly snort-laugh filled the room.

“hey, i know this”

their laughter died out.

jake kneeled beside you. he was looking into your mug with his gaze so soft and loving, you were afraid he was taking a liking to it.

“there’s tamarind and turmeric in it, right?”

kiri’s mouth went agape, “never knew you know herbs, dad”

“i’m not. but i’ve made this drink all my life”

“when?”

“you see, kid,” he looks at his son with a loving smile he rarely gives. his hand went up to squeeze neteyam’s shoulder.

“back on earth, your uncle tommy and i would make this drink for your gramma, when she was on her period” his golden eyes shows such softness as he gazes back into your drink.

it was just some mere drink, yet it was able to make the former toruk makto and olo’eyktan so soft.

“but of course,” he snickers, “we don’t need to boil real turmerics nor tamarinds. they sell it on instant packages”

no one laughs.

there was one question filling their heads, yet even rotxo’s loud mouth does not dare to ask.

where is she now?

lo’ak cleared his throat. “the period, was she in pain too?”

“yes, her whole body would turn so sore she couldn’t move. my dad was never really around, so tommy and i would be the ones running errands”

“oh, so the whole cramp thing is normal?”

“right, kiddo. that’s why you need all the support you can get during your period” he ruffles your hair, making you giggle.

“i need you all kids to take care of them, you got me? its already hard having periods on earth, its even harder when you are the only one having them, in this whole village”

“yes, sir”

“good. its turning dark. they needs rest" with jake’s words, the boys gives you an acknowledging looks before one by one steps out of your marui. not forgetting to bring their dirty dishes from their previous dinner. the girls however, are squeezing the life out of you with their hugs.

“come to me when your stomach’s all messed up. i would make you that drink again”

“yes, i will kiri”, you giggle.

“you know, if its hurting you too much”, tsireya starts, “maybe i could ask my mother to try to stop your periods”

you laugh, shaking your head at the thought of loosing your uterus, “no, reya. i will not, but thank you”

one last hug and the girls were off

“well, i guess my job here is done” neteyam smiles. he was the only one left beside you. his hand still pressing a water sack to your tummy,

“your trusty hot-water-sack-holder needs to go”

his smile turns brighter when you laugh.

“we should hang out tomorrow, teyam”

“yeah”, he whispers as he press his forehead on yours. a soft smile on his lips. your moment was quickly cut off by muffled laughs, your face went bright red as you realize the rest of them were all still standing near your marui

even his dad.

jake cleared his throat, “cmon, son, lets go”

their laughter broke as soon as neteyam approached them with burning cheeks, and was met with lo’ak’s playful swats on his shoulders that even the tips of his ears went flushed.

they weren’t so far away when you could hear spider’s voice,

“jake, when will i get my period?”

“men doesn’t get periods”

“ah shit... can i though, if i try hard enough?”

“just hold your shit in for a week, then you’ll get a period”

“that’ll be my ass bleeding”

their laughter broke once again. you too, couldn’t help but giggle. upon them, neteyam’s roaring laughter stand out the most. he was just glad they had stopped teasing him.

[astrasng]

i love you, i'm sorry || n.j

just to think about jaemin calming you down after you had a fight with your parents means everything to you. you knew he would listen to you and comfort you, he always does, but now he really carved himself into your heart.

you feel like you could spend your entire life with him, even if it means doing nothing.

because the minute you break down in your old room, crying so hard you can't even take a breath makes you dizzy, immediately reaching for your phone at 3 AM.you know jaemin works until late night, sometimes at night as being an idol. and you hate calling him or rather bothering him. So you just look at your phone screen with teary eyes, the sentences your mother said to your face just minutes ago replays in your mind, inevitably making you cry more. 

“And how long do you think he stays with you? He’s an idol, basically he has no time for you so why do you waste your time on him?” 

“He’s going to leave you sooner or later. Finds someone more available.” 

you shouldn’t be surprised, your parents never approved of your relationship with jaemin, even though it’s been months now that you two are together. It occurred to your mind that what if he finds someone better? after all, why would he be with you particularly?but whenever these questions popped into your mind, jaemin made sure they all went away. but can you blame yourself? He’s everything a girl can ask for. and you don’t feel like your parents will ever understand how he treats you, even though he’s an idol. 

are you home?

the message is sent by the time you realize what you did, burying your face in your hands. there’s a tight knot in your stomach that wants to pop out, the nerves killing you just by staying in the same house as your parents. right now, all you want to do is leave and escape in his arms. you wanted to visit your parents over the weekend, telling them about stories and how everything is going on in your life since you moved out, but alas, it didn’t happen the way you wanted. all you wanted was that your parents finally let him in their lives too, just as you did. 

just got home, everything alright baby?

the loud ping snaps your head up and as you scan over his reply, you can feel a heavy rock lifted up from your chest. 

I really need you. I know that you’re working tomorrow too but can i come over?

with a sigh you wait for his answer, going through all the possibilities if he says no. then you would just have to suffer through your emotions, maybe calm yourself down with a hot bath? or watching something you like?

of course honey. don’t worry about work, i’ll handle it. 

with a weak smile you reply - i’ll be there in a few.

you hear another ping after you put down your phone, but you don’t bother to check it, packing immediately so you can leave early. 

and that’s what happened. with a single bag in your hand you slip out the house, your parents probably long asleep after your fight. You don’t want to think about it again. you just want jaemin.

and in no time, you find yourself in front of his door, your hand lifting up to knock but he’s already opening the door for you. as you take in his presence you realize you're okay now, you’re with him. nobody can take away that. for now at least.

jaemin looks at you with worry in his eyes as he sees your puffy red eyes, his hands grabbing your cheeks softly when he sees you getting teary again. 

what’s wrong baby? did someone hurt you? his voice rings in your ears like smooth honey, your eyes searching for his as he scans your face. hmm? tell me my love,, he swipes the tear away, tilting his down to be eye level. 

I missed you.

two strong arms wrap around your waist, squeezing your bodies together as jaemin softly takes steps further back into his apartment, eventually closing the door behind him when you bury your face into his neck. 

you can feel that he just took a shower, his soft clothes touching your skin brings you comfort along with the smell of his shampoo. 

my love, i missed you more than anything. 

and you can no longer hold your tears back, you let yourself sob in his arms as he caresses your waist, squeezing his eyes shut as jaemin hears your cries next to his ear, his own heart breaking along with yours. 

he knows you often have problems with your parents, and as you told him earlier today that you went out to have dinner with them, he only assumes you’re crying because of that. but he doesn’t bring it up, 

he instead kisses away your crystal tears on your pink cheeks, his hands never leaving your cheeks and hair, swiping it back to see more of you.

what can i do to make you forget about it?

jaemin asks as he looks deep into your eyes, every emotion swimming in his orbs like he wants to take away your pain and suffering. and he really does too. It pains him to see you like this. It wasn't the first time you ran into his arms when you couldn't handle your emotions well, and it’s not the last either. he wants to adopt everything you feel into his body and mind, easing you up this way. 

you blink up at him, focusing on his eyes before you look down at his lips. kiss me,,

jaemin kisses you softly, his warm lips melting into yours as he keeps his hand on the side of your face, bringing you even closer. your grip on his shirt thightens, basically wanting to hide away from everyone with jaemin. but as he continues to kiss you, now deepening the kiss when you lean more forward you have to stay in the present. You have to ease your stress, and you know jaemin is the one who will catch all of your worries. 

your tongue swipes slightly over his bottom lip, initiating something that never happened before. as much as he doesn’t want to, jaemin stops, pulling further away to lock eyes with you. are you sure you want this? he softly spoke, not wanting to scare you away when another tear rolls down your face. with a simple nod you bring him back down, your lips immediately attaching to his soft ones, making jaemin sigh into the kiss. 

your hands snake up into his hair, playing with the hair at his nape as you take steps further back into the apartment, knowing the sketches of his apartment blindly. jaemin doesn’t waste any other time, picking you up ins his arms, your legs wrapping around his waist as he carries you further to is bedroom. 

the heavy tension lingers in the air when he softly places you on the fresh sheets, skin burning when he caresses your arms up and down to calm you down. tears seem to stop by his magic, replaced with lust and raw emotions in your eyes when you pull away from the kiss, scanning his beautifully carved face. a small smile appears on your face when you lift your hand to caress his face now, thinking about how lucky you are to have him. 

jaemin blinks at you softly, his smile sending you butterflies in your whole body as he silently says ‘s okay, i got you now. 

feather- like kisses pains your skin on your neck as he moves further down, scrunching up your shirt that gets in his way to kiss your skin, eventually taking it off completely of you. looking down at him, he’s already situated between your legs, his arms wrapping around your thighs to keep you close to him. jaemin softly kisses the skin on your thighs, his own warm breath tickling you slightly as he buries himself between them. you hands snake into his hair again, massaging his scalp when he nudges your core slightly with his nose, making you groan out.

the room feels heavy as you and jaemin can’t seem to stop groaning and moaning, his mouth now latched onto your sopping cunt the minute he pulled your shorts down. butterflies erupt in your stomach whenever you look down, seeing his broad shoulders moving under your calves with anticipation. 

the feeling of his tongue moving in and out inside you, his finger circling around your clit makes you dizzy, unable not to throw your head back while letting out a low moan. as you curse into the thick air, jaemin can’t seem to stop his movements, now his own hip rutting against the sheets to ease his own pain. he can feel you nearing your orgasm as you take the air in quicker, your thighs shaking around his head. jaemin,,please, i need you-

you let out another moan as you come around his digits, throwing your head back on the pillow as you cry out his name like a mantra. he can’t stop himself as he continues to lap at your juices, having every single drop until you cry out again and bring his face up to kiss him hardly, and deeply. 

i was thinking about you all day darling,

jaemin says before he deepens the kiss, now propped up above you before pulling you on his lap, sitting up fully against him. With a whine you kiss him back, your tongues colliding clumsily when he pulls your hips closer to his , feeling his wet cock between your bodies. his hand sneaks up behind you to unclasp your bra, letting it fall down on the bed as he pulls back to admire your hazed look. as he taps your hips you lift them up, feeling him sliding his cock between your folds slowly, moaning against your chest as he dips his member deeper into you, your walls squeezing around him because of the stretch. ‘’s so tight,,,fuck baby-

a whine flies past your lips as he finally bottoms out, practically feeling himself finally melting into you when you scratch his back slowly, bringing your nails up on his skin. pleas echos around the room as he thrusts up deep inside you over and over again desperately, like he wants to fuck all of your problems out of you - if thats even possible.

your heart overflowing with emotions you let out a moan, grabbing jaemin’s face to make him look at you, up into your eyes, the ones where he sees the future ahead of him with you. and only you. 

jaem,,i think i’m-

he knows.he wraps his arms around your naked body and thrusts up into you deeply.

I know sweetheart, let it all out. he groans and kisses your collarbone softly.

and you do. You can’t stop the tears rolling down your cheeks as jaemin thrusts up into you again, panting against your neck as you moan the words out desperately into his ear. it’s all too much, your hands move to grip his hair as your hips are unable to stop moving against his.

tell me you love me,

with one final thrust, he paints your walls with white drops of cum, you squeezing him tightly in every way, your arms never letting go of his shoulders. he doesn’t either, his once shut eyes now scanning your glistening one, the light from outside his living room the only thing illuminating the both of you, making you look like a goddess with ruined makeup and messy hair just for him. jaemin can’t take his eyes off of your beauty, kissing the corner of your mouth, slowly peppering kisses all over your face to calm your beating heart with reassurance. 

then he finally says,,

my love is yours, y/n. my heart belongs to you.

and jaemin knew that in that moment, it was the last time when you escaped in his arms.

this is a drabble that i wanted to write out, it's not proofread so i'm sorry if something is rushed or doesn't make sense.

reblogging and feedback is appreciated! ♡

[imaginesforeons]

Bubble and Foam(Yandere!Nanami x Reader)

~You and Nanami take a bath~

CW: Past kidnapping. Yandere Nanami. Forced nudity but not really NSFW.

Word Count: 1,347

Reqs are OPEN! At the top of my page you can see what fandoms I write for, so DM me with your ideas!

Buy me a coffee?

.-.-.

There used to be, you think, something calming about the sound of water lapping at the sides of a tub. The way the mirror and windows would fog, until your reflection was only a blob of color through the glass was delightfully anonymous, and you used to draw little flowers in the corners of the mirror when you were done bathing. The steamed room felt nice on your skin, and you always reached a light doze, warm and relaxed as you were in a tub with essential oils or salts or mountains of pearlescent bubbles. It was a private place, a slice of the world set aside just for you, and you treasured it.

There used to be something calming about it. But things changed.

Now you stood, shivering and bare except for a towel that was much too short wrapped tightly around you, nothing inside you feeling calm. It was easier, you knew, if you went along with the stereotypical domesticity that Nanami seemed to crave. It took you a while to understand, but when you realized and started treating him more like a husband than a man who probably suffered from insanity, he became calmer, smoother, like a rock polished of all its edges. Instead of hiding yourself away when he came home from whatever made him look beat up and bloody, you’d make him dinner. When you’d wake up to an empty bed, Nanami already long gone, you’d make it instead of trashing the room. You even tried to greet him at the door at the end of his workday, shyly pressing a kiss to his cheek, yet leaning back with a hammering heart whenever he seemed to want more.

You did this, because in return he became softer. He became- not like a husband, exactly, but a prison gaurd with his favorite prisoner. With his supervision, you were allowed to watch tv. You could request books or magazines from him, and he’d deliver. Once, you were even allowed to go to a park by his house, even though the entire time you were outside his arm stayed wrapped posessively around your waist, thumb stroking absentmindedly over your hip bone. It was a precarious balance of risk and reward, but as you stared at the tub, stomach sinking ever lower, you weren’t sure this risk was worth it.

This was too far.

“I can’t do it,” you said, staring at the slowly filling tub in front of you with terror. “This is too much.”

Nanami dipped his hand in the water, moving it back and forth, eyes unreadable behind his glinting glasses. “It’s just a bath. Nothing else.”

He was wrong, because it definitely was something more. Nanami had seen you in your underwear once, but only because you needed help changing the first night he took you, as you had a bad reaction to whatever drugs he used for sedation. He had never seen you naked. You and he had never, to put it bluntly, had sex. The most romantic thing he had done was kiss you on the lips, and both times you had fled to your shared room for the rest of the night. The only sleeping together you and Nanami did was sleeping in the most literal sense; you shared a bed, and only because Nanami insisted on it.

“We’re not having sex,” you blurted, then immediately felt your body go hot with embarrassment. It wasn’t like you were a blushing virgin; you’d had sex before, but it was never with a man who had kidnapped you. It was never with someone as strong as Nanami, who you had seen punch a hole through a metal door and come out of it with not even bruised knuckles. Watching the muscles in his arm flex as he stirred the water, you felt your mouth dry, and your hands tightined the grip they had on your towel.

“No,” Nanami said flatly, making you feel more ridiculous than ever. “We’re not having sex.”

He turned off the water, and the silence of the bathroom was more deafening than anything you could have imagined. The tub sat full, yet empty of people, like it was taunting you. Hadn’t Nanami just turned on the water? When had it have the time to fill up so quickly?

“Let me get in first,” you begged. “Please?”

Nanami’s brows rose. “I thought you would have been more against this.”

“I am!” you exclaimed. “It’s just that…” It’s just that you’d like to get in first and fast, so he’d barely have that chance to see you. Nanami had put some type of salt in the water, which made the room fill with the scent of lavender and gave a slight cloudyness to the quality of the water. Combined with the height of the water, it should be just enough to hide everything important from the towering man in front of you.

“...maybe you could turn around first?”

Nanami’s brows fell into a scowl, and he took off his glasses to pinch the bridge of his nose. “Yes, of course. Turn my back on you, and allow you that chance to attack me. It’s only happened once, so why shouldn’t it happen again?”

“Only once! And that was weeks ago!” You waited in terse silence, watching for any reaction.

Nanami only crossed his arms over his bare chest, muscles bulging. He was in a towel too, but where yours covered you from collarbones to thighs, his only hung low on his hips, putting everything on display. Well, you thought, staring at the trail of dark blond curls starting at his belly button and trailing behind the towel, almost everything. How was he able to look so confident dressed in so little, while you felt like the world was collapsing in on you?

“I wouldn’t be able to do anything even if I wanted,” you tried. “There’s nothing in here for me to attack you with. So could you turn around for just a second? Please?”

Nanami sighed and shook his head, and just when you thought he was about to say no, he turned his back. You took this as your chance, shucking your towel and praying that he wouldn’t peek as you lunged into the steaming water, submerging yourself up to your neck. To your side, Nanami let out a grunt, and untied the towel, letting it fall to the ground, exposing his-

You jerked your head to the side, staring resolutely ahead. You didn’t move, not even when you heard Nanami step into the tub. When he settled, placing his legs so they were on either side of you, bracketing you in, your hands clenched.

Slowly, he slid an arm around you, ignoring the way you clung to the rim of the tub and pulling you against him with ease. You had never felt so much of his skin on yours, and you felt your pulse climb as he moved against you. His hand fell over your forehead and began to pull you back.

“Relax,” Nanami said. “Let me wash your hair.”

You forced yourself to stay still, resting against his chest as he cupped water over your head and hair. When you heard something click, you jumped, eyes shooting open only to see a bottle of shampoo. Nanami squeezed a fruity-scented dollop out, set the shampoo aside, then covered your eyes with his free hand. When you caught the hint and forced them shut again, he started moving strong fingers across your scalp, deliberate yet tender.

You stayed still against his chest, a heaviness overtaking you, and you fought back the drowsiness. As you did, Nanami worked his hands through your hair calmly, in little to no rush. He rinsed the suds from your hair, and placed a kiss at your temple before smoothing conditioner through your locks.

While he washed the conditioner from your hair, you sank into something resembling relaxation, and for a moment allowed yourself to pretend you were alone. The steady rise and fall of the chest behind you made it hard.

[andreawritesit]

shattered vows

Fandom: Bleach

Pairing: Aizen x wife! reader

Format: Multi-chapter fic

Warnings: none for this chapter

PROLOGUE

Squad 5 was in shambles. Their captain had abandoned them and their lieutenant was currently fighting for her life in the medical room. The Shinigami were looking at each other, searching for answers that no one had. The entire Soul Society was suffering from the betrayal of the three captains. The Head Captain hadn’t spoken to anyone about the situation and that was adding to the panic. Captain Shunsui and Captain Ukitake were trying their best to keep the situation under control but it wasn’t enough. No one could understand how or why their captains would abandon them out of nowhere. But perhaps the one most affected by this betrayal was now sitting in the room of previous Squad 5 captain Sosuke Aizen. 

You were sitting at his desk, looking through the letter that apparently Aizen had written to Hinamori. How easily that poor girl had believed it and how easily he had made her distrust her childhood friend…

Aizen was always so convincing, charming, and charismatic. You knew better than anyone. In the 60 years of your marriage, you hadn’t once suspected him of harboring such evil inside his seemingly kind soul. To think that he had fooled you so easily made your blood boil. You picked up his pen and flung it at the wall. It shattered instantly and you wished you could shatter his heart just like that. The walls of this room reminded you of all the honey-laced words that venomous serpent had whispered to you, all the promises he had made with his false silver tongue, all the times you had poured your heart out to him, and all the times he had possibly fooled you using his Zanpakuto. You still couldn’t comprehend how he had managed to fool everyone for hundreds of years. Even Head Captain Yamamoto hadn’t suspected a thing. Your mind went back to the moment you had found his dead body pinned to the tower with his own Zanpakuto and the horror that you had felt in that moment; how easily you had believed that Ichimaru had killed your beloved and how stupid you felt when he was revealed to be in cahoots with your sweet liar of a husband. A knock on the door broke your train of thought. 

“Uh, is it a bad time?” A voice came from the other side and you immediately recognized it to be the Squad 13 captain. You closed the papers and got up to open the door for him. Letting him in, you looked outside – the sky was dark and silent. It seemed lifeless. Ukitake sat down near the desk and his eyes immediately went to the shattered pen and the spilled ink. 

“Whatever did the poor pen do? Its master is the culprit” he tried to joke but it only reminded you of Aizen which ruined your mood further. “My apologies, it’s not the right time to joke about that.” He followed up quickly, reading the expression on your face.

“Oh no, it’s alright. I’m just…upset.”

“That’s understandable. You have all the right to feel that way.”

“I still can’t comprehend how he could do such things… Tell me Ukitake, are they not suspecting me to be an accomplice? I am his wife after all.”

“No. Don’t worry. He made it pretty clear, didn’t he? He took his accomplices with him. You have nothing to worry about. No one will suspect you.”

You nodded your head and sat opposite him. He smiled warmly and put his hand forward. 

“I want you to promise something to me.” You raised an eyebrow at his words. “What?”

“That if Aizen ever reaches out to you, you’ll come straight to me. No one else. To me only.”

“I don’t think he will. If he wanted me by his side, he’d have asked me or straight up taken me with him. But if he ever does, I promise I’ll come straight to you.” You gave him your hand and sealed the promise. Ukitake looked around the room sadly, occasionally glancing at you. 

“Do you want to shift to another room by any chance? I understand that this room might hold memories related to Aizen and perhaps you don’t want to be around them?”

“Thank you for your kind offer but I’d rather stay here so I can always remember what he did. I have loved him more than anything and yet he deceived me. I’m sure in a moment of weakness, I might sway to his words. So I’ll remain here. I’ll look at these walls and remind myself of what he has done to me, to all of us.”

He nodded and got up. You followed suit and walked him to the door. Ukitake bowed to you and left you alone with the ghost of your relationship with Aizen. 

------------- at Hueco Mundo -------------- 

Aizen was sitting on his throne, looking over the Vasto Lordes that Gin and Tosen had brought to him. Everything was going according to his plan. He had the Hogyoku and was now only a few steps away from his goal. Gin walked forward and pointed to the assembled hollows and vasto lordes.

“Captain Aizen, when shall we begin the process?”

“Soon.” Gin nodded and went to stand next to Tosen who had been silent all this while. The doors to the main hall opened and in walked two persons. One of them, with dark hair and green eyes, walked forward and bowed to Aizen.

“Lord Aizen, we welcome you back to your castle. I and the others await your orders eagerly.”

“You’ll have your orders soon Ulquiorra. In the meantime, gather as many Gillian as you can.”

“As you command, Lord Aizen.” Ulquiorra bowed and left the room. The other one scoffed and turned to leave with him. However, Aizen stopped him.

“Do you wish to say something Grimmjow?”

Grimmjow turned back around and bowed slightly. “Not really. I just thought that we’d get to fight the soul reapers soon.”

“Your wish will be granted soon. But I strongly suggest you remain patient.” Aizen’s voice was laced with finality. Grimmjow’s face tensed up at Aizen’s tone and he decided to comply. For now. 

“Leave, everyone” Aizen’s voice rang through the vast hall once more. Gin and Tosen nodded and left, followed by the vasto lordes and other hollows.

 Left to his own thoughts, Aizen’s mind went straight to the one person he had left back in the Soul Society. His wife. He sighed and leaned back in the big chair. She probably hated him now. Why wouldn’t she? He had abandoned her and everything they had. Aizen’s goals had always been way above any other thing in his life. But the woman had managed to take her place in his life and his heart. He had grown to genuinely care for her. Initially, he had married her to further solidify himself as a kind, reliable captain. Over time, he had found himself getting truly attached to her. Aizen hated when things didn’t go according to his plans and falling in love was not in his plans at all. And yet he did. He knew he couldn’t give up his plans but he also knew her. She would never take part in his schemes, being as kind as she was. So he had to make a choice, a choice he wasn’t particularly happy about. Leaving her there meant she would face him as his enemy in the inevitable battle with the Soul Society. As naïve as it was, he once again found himself wishing she would join him, stand by his side through it all. A vain wish after all…

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Next part: here

[codtrashsammy]

Omg I’m having Soulmate!Simon Riley thoughts

Soulmate!Simon Riley who has actually been dreaming of the day he finds his soulmate. Like, sure, he’s still an anxious and self sabotaging little shit, but this is the person who is made for him! This is the person who won’t look at him like a monster, who was literally made to be his other half, who will help mend his broken parts with nothing but love. Right? That’s how it works, right?

Soulmate!Simon Riley who can’t wait to meet you. When he’s able to and has the free time he looks down at the string around his pinky, or the soulmate mark on his forearm hidden amongst tattoos, or the writing that appears on his skin (a shopping list he regularly sees tea on thank god-), or whatever other soulmate prompt there is and just gives himself a few moments to actually look forward to something. I’m the midst of wear he has something waiting for him, something to look forward to, and gods he’s gonna do everything he can to get you.

Soulmate!Simon Riley who has put so much faith into the universe because of you. He prayed to god he decided not to believe in because he always received nothing, not when he had to suffer at the hands of his father, not when he went through torture, not when everything in his mind was telling him to give up already, there’s nothing waiting for him in this world. And then he’d glance to his soul mark/string/doodle on his arm/whatever else and realize that there still is something waiting for him- someone. So he pushes through, he finds the strength, he makes it, because nothing on this earth is gonna keep him from you, nothing in this goddamn universe.

Soulmate!Simon Riley who randomly meets you. It’s gonna be something entirely weird and unexpected, but fuck, he’s enchanted. Enthralled. Enraptured. Upon first glance he already knows you were worth everything, you are worth everything. He’s already obsessed- he was far before he met you but gods now you’ve given him every reason to be. Soft skin, soft hair, pretty eyes, a smile that lights up the deepest corners of his mind, and he quite literally just stares at you for a few minutes because for once he’s *thanking* god, that you exist and that you’re here and that he could meet you.

Oh gods and the kicker?

Soulmate!Simon Riley realizing you hate the idea of soulmates and not understanding why. You were made for him, you’re literally his other half, why are you trying so hard to run away when he’s spent his life praying to you? What are you so afraid of? How can he fix it? He’s needed you before he met you and now that he has- you’re not going anywhere, he’ll make sure of it <3

OMGOMG FIC IDEA IM GONNA BE OBSESSED UNTIL I WRITE THIS OUT HNNGGGG

[ganondoodle]

actively fighting a full blown panic attack born out of sadness and anger after having to drive by yet another victim on the side of the road

it makes me livid how accepted it is to just let cats suffer and die disgustingly horrid deaths and live awful short lives just so what, for what?? so you dont have to play with them for an hour a day??? when i was little it was just kinda normal that they disappeared at some point, i didnt understand what it actually meant until our outdoor cat i loved dearly was found in the bushes near our house in a condition so horrible my dad has never told me and i have never dared to ask, she only made it to 6 and had horrible scars and infections before that i allowed my family to convince me to let my first own cat outside, we only had her for a year, she died at only 2 years old, i am still suffering from the guilt, it has never let me go, she went missing for a week and i walked the entire vilage up and down every day, yelling her name, wandering into the forest alone, talking to every stranger i met until one morning my mom told me that our neighbour who works for the city asked if we had a white cat with a very specific collar she had- he found her on a busy road crossing in the next bigger city, i never even got to bury her, its haunting me, the thought of her wandering lost and scared in the city for a week until meeting an awful end gives me headaches, the fact that i was the last one to see her alive, that i put her outside bc we were late for school and had to leave quickly, that she had come home with oil in her fur from crawling through maschines and cars before, that i was worried but still didnt act, that it is my fault, any time i am up to late its coming back, it will never let me go, if i had stood my ground and not allow her outside unless on a leash or similar shed still be alive today, any time i read a description at our local shelter it comes back, they still advocate for outside cats, all of them, even if they have only been an indoor one before, its madness my older sister had a cat, i dont even know how old he got but it wasnt long either, he got hit by a car in front of their house, she has two now again and the only reason she hasnt let them outside is because they havent shown much interest in it, i tried to warn her before and she didnt listen and shes still resistent, even after losing one too

i have seen so many on the side of the road, anywhere i drive i see them, i cannot forget a single one, we are surrounded by farm land and all its giant maschinery, its still common to poison rodents, why do people value them so little, you wouldnt let your dog just live outside in the woods and streets for half the day or more, you wouldnt just throw your guniea pigs on the road and tell them have fun, you wouldnt just let your bird roam outside, there probably assholes that do that too but you cannot tell me its as common as outside cats

i dont understand it, i dont, i wont, i never will, i will never forgive myself this poor little animal that was my responsibility having to pay the price of my ignorance, or my own weakness letting my family convince me despite the awful way we lost one before, it makes me want to explode it hurts my brain in grief and anger i can barely contain

cats deserve to live a safe and long life, i get only having them inside may feel like you are locking them up, but do you think that not doing so is worth having them die a painful death? being poisonend? on purpose even by disgusting people that hate them? abused and chased by other animals and dogs? hurt and lost? cutting their lifespan in half? if they even make it that far? the amount of wildlife that they kill unnecessarily so when all of that is already in a steep decline everywhere? and if they eat what they hunt get infected with diseases or again, poison? die somewhere in agony? if cared for they dont care about going outside, plenty can be leash trained or given a secure way to roam like those cat proof aviary like things, if you dont want to put effort into caring for a cat DONT GET ONE, ALL pets require adequate care, and if you think cats are the easiest bc you only have to feed them every now and then IF they come home? you suck, you are an asshole, i hate you and you do not care about them, if you just want to occasionalyl feed and pet an animal go to the petting zoo

(this is about pet cats of people who can absolutely afford to keep them healthily inside, i know feral cats and those in poor neighbourhoods are a thing, even if not here where i live, and thats a whole other but still similar problem and not the point of this post)

[aurumacadicus]

Oh oh oh!!! 37 or 73. Dealer’s choice.

Thanks!

I decided to be nice and went with 73 <3

--

"I am getting real tired of meeting you here," Tony said, and he looked just as long-suffering as he sounded when Steve looked up at him through the bars of his cell. "I'm also getting real tired of everyone but you calling me for help."

Steve opened his mouth, but he wasn't entirely certain what to say. He's called Tony for help the first time he'd gotten arrested, but Tony had looked so bewildered and... sort of offended when he'd arrived? Steve had decided he'd stop calling Tony and just call on his less judgemental teammates (Bruce was a no-go after the second time) to come bail him out. He had no idea why they, in turn, had called Tony up to take on his bail. He always offered to pay them back, and he always showed up for court.

Come to think of it, the judge was starting to look at him a lot like Tony was, Steve mused, rubbing his hand over his mouth to hide an amused smile.

"You know," Tony continued when Steve said nothing, and the smile dropped from his face when he realized he'd actually been waiting for a response. "I understand you're trying to... figure yourself out, or whatever Natasha said. I just wish--"

"I am not trying to figure myself out. I am punching neo-nazis," Steve corrected firmly. "I do not enjoy punching neo-nazis. In fact, I very much dislike the fact that there are neo-nazis to punch."

Tony pursed his lips, obviously unimpressed. "The pictures the Daily Bugle post show you looking quite happy to punch them. It looks a little unhinged actually and I am officially asking you to fucking cut it out for a month. I have a fundraiser for the Maria Stark Foundation and I don't want to spend the entire thing fielding questions about your disdain for the law."

"I've never been convicted of a crime," Steve began, drawing himself up in offense.

"You're Captain America. Who wants to convict Captain America of a crime when you punch a neo-nazi?" Tony retorted, crossing his arms over his chest. "Stop punching people. Find a different hobby. I hear bird watching and crossword puzzles are popular with your age group."

"I'm telling Natasha you think her crossword puzzles make her old," Steve tried again.

"Her gardening hobby makes her old too. Make sure you tell her I said that," Tony retorted, then stepped closer, pointing at him through the bars. "I'm telling you one last time before I put my foot up your ass, Steve. Do things that make you happy--within the confines of the legal system."

It took everything in him not to immediately answer 'no.' He thought Tony might actually break through the bars and murder him. "Okay."

Tony blinked at him, apparently having expected more argument. Steve normally would have given him one, but Tony had proved very protective over his mother's foundation and all the events it held. Steve didn't feel inclined to push his luck. Especially since he was inside the cell and Tony was not, and Tony could leave him here.

"...Okay," Tony finally agreed. He narrowed his eyes skeptically. Steve tried to look as innocent as possible and was rewarded with a sour, "Don't do that."

"Fine," Steve said, contrite expression dropping. "Can we leave?"

Tony continued to stare at him, considering. Finally, though, he huffed, rolling his eyes. "Fine. I sent your court date to Natasha since you broke your phone on someone's face. Please stop doing illegal shit until after the gala."

Steve sighed. "Fine. Can I take you out to coffee? That's not illegal anymore apparently."

Tony whipped around to stare at him again, aghast. Finally, he managed to bark a confused, "HUH?"

"You told me to find my happiness within legal confines," Steve reasoned. "Homosexuality was legalized in New York in the eighties. I looked it up."

Tony stared at him a little longer, then let out a reedy, overwhelmed laugh. "What are you talking about?!"

"Let's discuss it over coffee," Steve tried again, and then, "Or dinner? Whichever you prefer."

"Shut the fuck up," Tony laughed, rolling his eyes, and finally turned to leave. "I'll go tell the officer to let you out."

Steve watched him go, stunned. Then he crossed his arms over his chest with a huff. This was why he preferred punching neo-nazis. They, at least, knew what his intentions were. He could probably give Tony a 'will you go out with me? yes or yes' note and he'd just laugh and say he forgot to add 'no.'

[runawaymun]

It's something that I want to do a full write-up on after I finish more more quests (most especially Baizhu's) but I just want to put it out there that I am constantly amazed, as a chronic-illness haver myself, how many characters in Genshin Impact have chronic illnesses, how visible they are, and how well represented they are.

Like, it's extremely difficult to find even one character in a piece of fiction that has a chronic illness (let alone one where it isn't played for laughs, OR otherwise it completely destroys their life and they're fucking miserable, OR it's magically cured).

But Genshin? Dude you trip over a character with a chronic illness every five seconds, it feels like, and I fucking love that. Off the top of my head there's:

Anna (Mondstat), who visibly suffers from her illness and we know her brother struggles to pay for her medicine. But the traveler, through a series of quests, helps them get ahold of an affordable medication to manage (MANAGE, not cure) the illness and to return her quality of life to her.

Little Hongdou (Liyue) - who has an unspecified chronic illness. And she just does. But she's out and about and seems very happy.

Collei (Sumeru, playable) - and sure her illness is fixed by the end of the Sumeru quest, but I don't even care because of how well it's represented. She has hopes, ambitions, dreams. She participates in her work as a forest ranger even though we get visible confirmation that her illness is progressing. The people around her care and are compassionate, and do their best to make sure she takes care of herself, but she is also allowed to just...go out? and do things?? This shouldn't be such a tall order but chronic illness-havers with friends and family members who understand that, hey there are good days and there are bad days -- that's rare in fiction (and IRL for that matter).

Dunyarzad (Sumeru) - her chronic illness is a major plot-driver in an entire fucking archon quest. She has a huge amount of influence on the people around her, and her chronic illness is actually part of the whole reason we even are able to help Nahida in the first place. Her chronic illness is what makes her instrumental to the plot, but it also isn't the only thing about her, and I love that.

Dulphy (Fontaine) - an actress from Furina's story quest. What really struck me about Dulphy is how the people around her interact with her. I was half in tears by the end of the quest -- not even for Furina reasons (yes, that too), but because I was so touched by the fact that a game gave us a character who was unable to follow through with something she said she was going to do (finish her closing performance as the lead actress in a musical), and that was okay. Like, yeah, the people around her were upset -- but they were upset because she hadn't taken great care of herself and had pushed herself past her spoon limit! Nobody (including the narrative itself) treated it as a great failure when she had to call it quits on her performance. Rather, that was treated as a good thing, and they went so far as to explicitly state that her performance up to that point mattered, and that it was a meaningful contribution, even though she couldn't finish. And that just fucking got me, man. Also - again, this is a character where it is explicitly stated "this is a chronic illness. It has good days and bad days and it can only be managed, not cured. And if she pushes herself too hard then she'll need several days to recover." And that's just...part of who she is.

And, of course, Baizhu. (Liyue, playable) My beloved, my blorbo. His chronic illness(es) is an extremely visible part of his character - referenced in his voicelines, his idles, his interactions in quests, the imaginarium theater, and even your teapot house, and his emojis. Hell, he even coughs if you sprint too much with him. Nevertheless, he's arguably one of the strongest healer units in the game from a meta perspective, and from a story perspective he is immensely successful, insanely compassionate, and while he isn't necessarily super kind to himself about it, the people around him are. His chronic illness is part of him, but he is still allowed to inhabit a story where he's the most renowned and beloved doctor in his entire country & just...is an awesome, active person in general, and that means so much to me.

Just. God. I legitimately can't think of another piece of fiction where I have seen myself represented over and over and over again everywhere I look, let alone so kindly. It's genuinely so moving to have so many characters be so visibly chronically ill, and for that to just be part of their character. A neutral thing about them. And to have it be okay when they can't finish things -- even though they said they would, okay when they need to rest, okay when they have to take a break or extra care with themselves. And not just one but so many. I'm sure I'm forgetting some to boot.

(Honorable mention: Qiqi. Like sure she's a zombie but hear me out: visible chronic joint and memory issues, which is something I also deal with and it's just so refreshing to see a character who deals with them, too -- and who has so many people around her who are so kind about it).

[jesterwriting]

(for that timeloop post,, uhm this relates to the whole body horror thing ((not too much just a brief mention)) so if rn u don't wanna see that SCROLL AWAY!!! OR DELETE ME!! OK disclaimer ends here)

oh man but what if Law did say room anyway and there were impossible scars on your insides... like littered everywhere, they're not fresh but old, almost phantoms that make no sense, because if they were real you would've died. how would he react to that? maybe not when he noticed them crying but after weeks or months, dunno, where they keep skipping his more thorough check-ups (where he uses his devil fruit) since they're anxious about the pains? and think that somehow there are signs of their previous deaths and the mention of them makes it hurt more and more and they just can't do it. but they can't bring themselves to say it because who could possibly believe them? if Law doesn't, it would just feel even worse, won't it? even if they understand his point of view. maybe they even die in front of him and it gets harder to just hold all of that in,,, oh boy. if you think about continuing your oneshot i'll eat it like a starving animal!

pairing: law x gn!reader

contents: slight body horror, slight gore, timeloops, suicide done to restart the loop, hurt/comfort, happy ending,

word count: 1.6k words

note: OHHHHH I LOVED THIS IDEA OH MY GOD. absolutely so smart. anon your mind is huge and i had so much fun doing this request. <33 i really hope you enjoy :33

playlist: caribou - tanya tagaq

a sister fic to this

This had never happened before. You had experienced hundreds of loops, maybe even thousands, and this was the first time Law saw fit to scan you with his Devil Fruit.

Maybe you were getting sloppy. You had a strong immune system so you never got sick, and the first time Law scanned you for your general checkup upon joining the crew, there was nothing of note. You wondered what changed, as if you hadn’t died more times since you joined his crew than you had in your entire life. Maybe it was because the more you suffered, the more reckless you became, throwing yourself into the fray with little regard for yourself. You could take a bullet for your crewmates, so you would. It was as simple as that.

There was a first time for everything, you supposed. A first death, a first breath, a first kill; there were uncountable firsts that one could experience, and you had experienced most of them.

Not this one, though.

You had tried to avoid it for as long as possible. Your captain was a man who carried burdens, ones almost as heavy as the ones on your shoulders. If he knew how many times he failed you — or how many times you failed him — you knew he would take all the blame for himself. As if you hadn’t been the one lying, and fighting, and dying over the course of countless lifetimes.

Law blinked a few times before his brows furrowed and his eyes narrowed. You fidgeted under his stare. If his reaction was anything to go by, he found something horribly wrong with you. While you had experienced slow deaths before, you had never experienced what it felt like to waste away from disease. Maybe you’d find out this loop, you thought, trying to feel nonchalant about the idea and not like you were about to throw up.

“Um. What’s wrong,” You tried.

Law shushed you, the blue glow from his room still surrounding you. You bit your tongue, fingers playing with the hem of your shirt to try and take your mind off of whatever he could have found.

“This can’t be right,” He muttered, one hand cradling his chin. He pointed to your chest. “There’s a scar inside of you, it looks like a puncture wound through your lungs. When did that happen?”

Three loops ago when you fell off a building and onto some rebar. That was a particularly awful death. The last thing you remembered before everything went black was Law’s panicked expression as he tried to put you back together again. There was terror in his eyes. You tried not to think about that part.

“And here,” Law continued, pointing to your abdomen. “There’s a scar running across the length of your stomach. It almost looks as if you were previously disemboweled.”

You had been. Multiple times. It was a common and very disturbing loop ender that you tried to avoid if you could. Watching your organs fall out of you in a steaming heap was never something you liked to experience, but for some reason, your opponents kept aiming for the gut. You wished they’d aim for the heart or the head more often. At least then it’d be quick.

He didn’t stop there, jaw falling open when he stared directly where your heart was. “When were you stabbed, Y/N-ya, this looks recent.” Law blinked a few times before realization dawned on his features. His eyes shot to your face, expression going from open to unreadable in seconds. “How did you survive without my intervention?”

Your mouth was dry. How were you supposed to respond? There was no way you could tell him that you had died on his watch more times than you could count. Law didn’t deserve that. Your captain was a good man, one you loved admired far too much to allow this to weigh him down. He would take your failures to heart, completely discounting the amount of times that he had saved you from having to start anew.

You must have been quiet for too long because Law was speaking again. “Answer me.”

“It’s from a long time ago,” You said.

That was a lie. It was from the previous loop. A quick death by your own hand over the cold corpse of your captain. If Law didn’t survive, there was no point in continuing, and if there was one thing you had grown accustomed to, it was taking your own life after one loss too many. You knew how to make it quick, no suffering. So with a precise hand, you drove your knife into your chest and let the timeline begin anew.

When you saw Law again, whole and alive, you vomited. You were under the impression that he believed that you simply ate some bad seafood, but from the concern that was slowly etching its way onto his features, you weren’t so sure of that now.

“Don’t lie to me.” Law’s eyes flashed, barely contained frustration needling at the corners of him. “None of this makes any sense, half of these injuries should have killed you. The other half would have needed to be treated.”

The truth sat on the tip of your tongue. You felt selfish and needlessly cruel for your desire to tell Law what was really happening. Your eyes burned, and their glassy sheen didn’t go unnoticed. Law handed you a tissue, expression softening.

“I- um.” You hated how your voice cracked. It had been a long time since you told someone about your Devil Fruit. You always died, and they always forgot. For a long time, you thought it was better that way, carrying this weight on your own. The way Law looked at you, though, it made you want to pour your soul out to him. Every pain, every loss, every death lain at his feet, and for once, you could stand unburdened. “It’d be wrong of me to tell you.”

Law’s eyebrows knit together. “Now you’re being stupid.”

“No, I’m not. You’ll regret asking once you know. Don’t pretend like you don’t carry the weight of the world on your shoulders, you don’t deserve my troubles on top of that. It’s better for both of us if you just forget what you saw.”

With that, you stood and made to brush past Law and out of the room. He grabbed you by the shoulder, not allowing you to go any farther. Though his grip was firm, it didn’t hurt. If you really wanted to, you could wrench yourself away from him.

“You’re trembling.”

Your lower lip wobbled, your resolve ebbing away by the second. “It’s complicated.”

“So tell me.” Law’s lips twitched upwards ever so slightly. “Doctor’s orders.”

You let out a small huff. He didn’t deserve this, but there would always be another loop. This current one hadn’t been going so well, and by your estimation, it would take at least three more before you managed to reach your next checkpoint. It wouldn’t hurt to tell Law what he inevitably wouldn’t remember. You steadied yourself with a deep breath and turned to face him, his eyes met yours with a mix of concern and exasperation.

“It’s my Devil Fruit,” You started. Law leaned back on his heels and crossed his arms, attention solely on you. Your heart thundered in your chest. “I’ve died so many times.” Without your permission, your breath hitched. Law’s hand encircled your own with a small squeeze, encouraging you to continue. “It, um, brings me back, I guess. I’ll die, and then wake up in the bunkhouse days earlier, and I’ll be the only one who remembers what happened. All those scars you saw were what killed me in a previous loop.”

He was silent while he chewed on his words.

“How many times have you died since you joined my crew,” Law finally asked.

Your hand was still in his and you gave it a squeeze. “That’s not fair. I know what you’re doing and I won’t let you do it.”

Law’s shoulders slumped as he brought his free hand to pinch the bridge of his nose. “I believe you. It explains a lot. I noticed you cry in your sleep sometimes.”

“You watch me sleep?” The tips of Law’s ears were tinged pink while you laughed.

“I was worried so I checked on you.” With a sigh, he began to lead you out of the clinic to his office. “Come on, you’re telling me everything you can remember. We’re going to come up with a plan.”

Humoring him, you followed close on his heels. It didn’t matter how long or how hard you planned, there was no accounting for the unpredictability of the universe. This comfort wouldn’t last long. Soon, you would be dead again and the cycle would start anew. That didn’t mean you couldn’t enjoy sharing a space with your captain, listening to him meticulously craft tactics to keep you, and everyone else, alive.

It wasn’t until four days later you found yourself breathing, though covered head to toe in blood, with the rest of the crew. Everyone was safe and sound, and Law wouldn’t stop looking at you with a smirk on his face. When you found yourself next to him, he bumped his shoulder against yours.

“I told you my plan would work.”

Just like that, for the first time in your life, you were no longer alone.

[librarycard]

I thought i was done with talking about my chemical romance fandoms crazy gender essentialism and transmisogyny and misogyny in general but i have one more thing. actually two. because i have yet to discuss why this is so personal to me.

number one: i really, really hope you people don’t talk to trans women like that in real life.

number two and in relation to that: the way people (you know who they are, or you don’t, in which case consider this a general statement.) are about trans people, trans women specifically i should say, and have been talking about trans people on here in general, has been deeply concerning to me because what they’re doing has happened to me.

when someone is dealing with their gender identity, you dont just tell them what they are. You can make it a safe place for someone to come out WHEN THEY ARE READY just by being openly supportive and in arms with transness and the transgender community. unless a person is going through immense obvious suffering and cannot understand why that’s the case you should NOT fucking walk up to people and just tell them what they are because 1 you are not them and therefore can’t be sure 2 that isn’t your place and 3 everyone deserves to be able to figure out to what extent they would like to address their gender dysphoria and what their desired timeline for doing so is.

you can say IF THE SITUATION CALLS FOR IT “hey, it seems like you might be struggling with issues related to gender. have you heard of transgender people? if so, do you feel like addressing your problems through this lens might help alleviate your suffering?” <- or similar. of course, i figured this should be obvious to trans people, who typically (bar conservative “transmedicalists” who make for an entirely different conversation that i don’t want to have) know exactly how harmful the inherent association of physiological and sociological traits in human beings with gender identity (and, by extension, gender dysphoria) is.

but really just making sure a person knows it’s cool and awesome and most of all OKAY to be transgender openly if they want to is the most important. you don’t do this by telling them who they are but by exhibiting public love for and solidarity with trans people. it’s always supposed to be on their terms, not yours. if you realized you were gay or trans because someone told you you were, that’s okay. i’m ecstatic that you were able to discover that about yourself and i’m glad it did you more good than harm. but almost never does the situation call for that; as you should know, you are not the transgender monolith; there is no monolith; there is no straightforward path.

there is only support and solidarity, which is not the same as declaring that someone is x when they themselves have not clarified it or rather need drastic intervention for their mental wellbeing and are genuinely blatantly clueless. i promise you most people struggling with gender identity aren’t clueless and know they’re uncomfortable with the box they’ve been put in, so don’t feel like you should just go ahead and pick a different box.

now on the personal side: it was really harmful for me when someone who wasn’t even transmasc told me i was a transgender man and that i should just accept that. my gender identity was more complex than that and i was addressing it on my own terms at the time internally because it wasn’t the business of others. publicly, i told people i was okay with using any pronouns and i disclosed the name i went by, as well as telling people i felt kinship with transness, but that was it. (if you’re reading this as someone that is aware of the celebrity-stranger central to the discussion at hand, you may be familiar with their own similar public disclosures.)

the way that maleness was foisted onto me by (well meaning) others made me collapse in on myself. they used he/him pronouns for me and barraged me with questions about my comfort with she/they/etc, as if i did not know better than them.

in the end, i just wasn’t good at being a man. pursuing maleness made me feel worse about myself because it was incongruent with my internal experience. not always, of course, because i am mostly a masculine/gnc person, but there were key aspects of being a trans man i exhibited because people told me i was one that made me uncomfortable, and i, just wanting relief, chose to pursue that angle seeing as it was other members of the lgbt community that pointed me there. im from a small town in the bible belt deep south and i’d never seen the world, because my family was poor and conservative and there was nothing for them otherwise. my new college friends were from big cities and had seen much more of the world than i had.

in truth, i should have been allowed to figure it out as i would have liked to. these people were aware that i knew about transgenderism and related to it, and i had told them what pronouns i wanted them to use, but they continued to apply pressure onto me. to this day, years later, i am devastated that i was robbed of my path to self discovery as it might have come about naturally. i would have made some choices the exact same, such as hrt and top surgery, but the emotional gravity of what i experienced will always stay with me, and the insecurities that came with it are still being shaken off.

this is my personal experience, but i know other people have felt similar pressure to conform to what they’ve been identified as by outsiders who were flat out transvestigating them.

i’m trans; i love being trans; i love my transgender brothers and sisters, i love trans men and women, and i love gnc people and the nonbinary identity, which has more or less fit like a glove and allowed for self expression that has ultimately been the most comfortable for me.

i am not saying i am going to be the leading example of all trans people, but i am an example of the consequences of these kinds of invasive claims.

if you’ve made the conversation at hand a “we the gerard way transgender believers and knowers vs the deniers who claim gerard is male” you have lost, because that is not what people believe. I would say most of us are very comfortable associating gerard with transness because they themself have expressed kinship and solidarity with us.

i hope if you took the time to read this you take all i say in good faith and understand why this conversation has hit home for me so personally. i hope you were able to understand why i am so distressed by those standing on a soapbox preaching harmful rhetoric and practices. and i hope that people who have engaged in said practices perhaps discover that they are hurting a lot of trans people, out or not, and i hope that they express love for out trans women more than pursue what they appear to believe are “closet cases” or “flagging”. i hope we all learn from this as a community online and choose to engage only with gerard’s gender to the extent that they’ve verbally signaled they are comfortable with, which includes not assigning them labels, whether that be female, male, trans woman, cisgender, or otherwise, and at least when talking about them seriously, using their pronouns (no, i don’t think you lovingly calling gerard your girlfriend is the crime here. it’s why you do it that’s the issue; you aren’t doing it with solely affection but rather with a motive as well.)

just let them, as well as other people, especially those you might encounter in your day to day life, be themselves without argument or unnecessary investigation. just leave people alone about their gender identity, please.

[shsy7573]

Random Lucifer (Hazbin Hotel) Character/Song Analysis Kinda Thing… I Guess

Okay, so yeah, Luci has 100% taken over this page. So what? I’m not obsessed, you are.

Anyway, I’ve been listening to “More Than Anything” on repeat since it dropped, and like a lot of the fandom I tear up every single time… but unlike a lot of the fandom, it’s not because of the sweet father-daughter moment (which, don’t get me wrong, doesn’t help the situation because it’s just so damn wholesome).

No, what gets me is how, just through a couple subtle moments, the show is able to convey just how absolutely shattered Luci is as a character. And, you know, because he’s my favourite, bestest, snek-baby-duck-boy, it makes me a little emotional…

So now you’re all gonna hear about what goes through my mind every time I listen to it. YAY!

“Charlie! You don’t understand, Heaven never listens. They didn’t listen to me. They won’t listen to you!” / “You don’t know that—” / “I do!”

It starts before the song even truly begins. When I’m listening, it’s usually these first few lines that grab my attention. I end up replaying the first 4-5 seconds of the song over and over again because the pain in that “I do” is so fucking good! (And because I like to suffer apparently cuz I end up sad. Life of an angst lover I guess).

It’s the first time we see him with actual tears in his eyes. The raw delivery of that line is so attention grabbing, and manages to say so much in such little words.

I think the reason this particular scene tickles my brain so much is because it’s the breaking point for his character in a way. I am, and always will be, a sucker for moments where a character’s walls finally come down, and we get to see what’s been festering inside. When their deepest thoughts and how much they’re hurting are revealed. The entire song is what that is for Lucifer, starting with these two words right here. I truly cannot put into words just how much my breath is taken away by Jeremy’s delivery of this line. I cannot articulate how much I love it, and how important it is for Luci’s character. it just hits so deep and so right for me and I love it.

Lucifer isn’t just saying that he knows Heaven isn’t going to care about her plan (I don’t think anyone thought that’s all he was saying but whatever). He is saying that he knows what Heaven does to dreamers. He knows what they’ll do because he has already been there, and it destroyed him. They took his ideas that they saw as too outlandish, and they squashed them. Cast him aside. And he paid the price for it when he went bashing their back and did his own thing anyway.

Luci is a broken dreamer. Throughout the entire episode, and the series as a while, we are given very strong hints of this. However, it’s not until this song that we really see it in action. It’s not until these moments that we are able to see past both the veils of “Imposing King of Hell” and “Goofy Guy who’s trying his best but not great at Dadding,” and get a look at how genuinely depressed this man is.

“My dreams were too hard to defend.”

This scene eight here. The more I see it, the more I fall in love with it. Just a great example of ‘show don’t tell.’

He’s talking about having big ideas, he’s talking about giving people a chance and reaching outside the normal, he’s talking about being cast out of Heaven. I just love the parallel he’s drawing between Charlie’s mission, and his own past.

Charlie created the hotel in an attempt to give people who have been seen as lesser to all of Heaven some sort of chance. She is choosing to have faith in them, and to open up opportunities for them to lead a better life.

Lucifer, when he gave Eve the fruit, was taking a chance to allow humanity the chance to have free will. He wanted them to experience everything life had to offer for themselves like angels got to. He offered a chance for them to lead a better life.

He had everything, and he had complete faith that what he was doing was right. All the light and hope of his dreams was right in the palm of his hand. He had so many ideas that he thought, if they were saw through, would make the world a better place.

But it didn’t work out for him.

“And in the end, I won’t lose it all again.”

Now, the first seconds of dialogue may be what I keep rewatching, but this has got to be my favourite visual of the entire song. It’s such powerful imagery, and I fangirl over it every time.

Look at how small he looks in that shot (I know, I know, he’s tiny regardless, but like seriously). He is completely outnumbered, hopelessly overpowered, totally at the mercy of all his Heavenly superiors… and he’s all alone.

He lost everything because he had the gall to dream. It’s not hard to look at the song (and the episode at large, really) and find not only his feelings of being wronged, but also his immense guilt. It shows in how much he hates Sinners. They are basically the worst of what he did, a constant reminder of the day his mistake caused him to lose his home and everything he held dear, and they are all he gets to see. Only being permitted to see your failures for all eternity? No wonder he’s fucking depressed.

The day Heaven cast him out was the day he stopped dreaming. Because dreaming big only leads to pain, failure, and suffering.

“I just don’t want you to be crushed by them like… like I was.”

This next moment is kinda self explanatory and obvious and really doesn’t need any commentary, but I’m gonna talk about it anyway. Because I love it, and I love him, and… you know… angst. I’ve mentioned my lust for it several times now throughout this post, you really shouldn’t be surprised.

I just feel so bad for him. Lucifer made one mistake. One simple, misguided mistake that ended up introducing evil into the world, and all of Heaven came down on him for it. And, you know what, in the narrative presented by the show, what he did wasn’t that bad. He just wanted to give the world’s newest creations the same freedom angels had, and it backfired horribly. Lucifer, like Charlie, was an idealist who saw the best in people and wanted to help.

And what did he get for his good intentions? Shoved into the cesspool he unintentionally created, and forbidden to ever see anything good that came from his dream.

If I had to guess, Lilith was the only thing keeping his mental health afloat for a long time… and then they had Charlie.

“The tales about your lofty dreams. I’d listen breathlessly, imaging it could be me.”

His daughter became the light of his life. Something that he cherished and indulged more than anything else in the world. To him, she was perfect, and he wanted to do right by her in any way he could.

Lilith told their daughter stories of all her father’s dreams regardless of what he thought of them, and when the little princess came asking him… how could he refuse? How could he refuse her anything?

So he shared them with her. All the tales of grandeur, and fantasies of everything he wished the world could have been. All the dreams he had long since let go.

“And in the end, it’s the view I had of you that show me dreams can be worth fighting for.”

Now, the scene where Lily take’s Charlie away has always been excellent brain fodder for me because of how somewhat ambiguous it is. You could interpret his sadness to have SO MANY meanings. However, I have inevitably decided on two potential head-cannons/theories to share here for what could possibly be going through Snek-King’s head.

One: Lucifer loves his daughter, but he feels estranged and like he’s failed her in some way. She’s such a joy, such a wonder, and in a way it's his fault she’s trapped down here with all of human ties worst. He wasn’t to be close to her, and to make the world perfect for her… but he already feels like he’s failed her in the most unforgivable way. He keeps his distance because part of him doesn’t want her to have a super high of an opinion of him. It’s kind of his depression manifesting, saying that ‘she shouldn’t admire you and your stupid dreams when they’re the reason she’ll never see true light and happiness.’

The angst addict in me likes this one more, but still I’ve got another one that always pops.

Two: He feels like he’s selling her false hope, and he can kind of see the place her innocence is headed. He’s seen the horrors of the world, and he knows the more he indulges her dreams and fantasies, the more she’ll suffer when she sees that’s not what the world is like. He knows from personal experience how much it hurts when your dreams come undone, when you lose hope in the world.

Listening to Charlie’s actual lyrics, she tells him that he was the one who inspired her to dream, that he was right to dream, and that she’s not going to back down. In the song, Luci realises that 1: maybe he didn’t fuck us as badly as he thought and that she actually doesn’t blame him and wants her in his life and/or 2: she has her mother’s willpower, and she’s never going to stop dreaming or let her world be sullied like he did. She’s so much stronger than he was.

So he lets her in.

(Side note… AWWW, look how TINNYY he is! He’s so small. The start contrast in the second image gets me every time)

There’s a bit of symbolism in the song which I ABSOLUTELY adore, and it has to do with the wings. In the flashback, Charlie mentions his “lofty dreams,” when we see the duck, which later transforms to have multiple sets of wings. Later in the song, when Lucifer finally lets her in, he also sprouts those wings.

And I just love this, because I think it acts as the perfect symbolism of him finally opening his mind again. Not just to his daughter, but to the possibility of dreaming in general.

He takes her to a circus, a place filled to the brim with spectacles and thrills, a place where humanities wildest imaginations seem possible.

But even though he’s beginning to open up, and he’s willing to help her in whatever she does, he’s not ‘fixed.’ His depression and self doubt and feelings of hollow emptiness and guilt and apprehension aren’t gone.

And he’s still terrified of seeing her spark go out like his did.

This tiny smile break is so addicting to watch for me. It speaks volumes. Once again, my angst loving heart eats it up every time. It says, “I’m still worried, and there is still so much shit going on in my mind right now about all of this, but I’m here for you.”

And that’s what counts.

Luci’s character showed a lot of colours, and came a long way in this singular episode, but he’s still got a big uphill battle to climb. He still has to come back into his own where dreams are concerned. Maybe he never will, not completely. Realistically, he’ll never go back to the way he was.

But maybe, just maybe, in helping his daughter he’ll find something worth believing in again.

That is, of course, if they decide to give him a character arc beside ‘Dad who is trying and doing better,’ but for that only time will tell.

—

And THAT concludes my rant on the Rubber Ducky Ruler. If you stuck around this long, good for you! I wrote this whole thing on a limb at midnight, and NO I’m not going to go back and edit it because why would I ever want to see all the horrid grammatical and spelling errors I’ve inevitably made.

Maybe I’m off the mark on all of this. Maybe I’m head-cannoning too much. Maybe I’m just trying to suck out every hint of potential angst out of a song that’s supposed to be sweet and wholesome. That’s for you to decide. But for me, I’ve decided that I’m satisfied with this analysis. In the end, I just needed to express all the thoughts bumbling around in my head SOMEWHERE before I exploded, and unfortunately, I feel like I’ve run all my friends dry talking about this baby to them, so now it’s your turn. But, anyways, I think that about wraps things up. It’s time to go to bed.

Farewell, stay hydrated, and have a lovely rest of your day/night :)

[magnoliasandarson]

birds of a feather pt. 2

Dick wasn’t sure what to make of the Redhood Jason. His baby brother, his Little Wing- back from the dead. He was gloriously and miraculously alive, but there was something different. For one, he was jacked. His Jaybird had been five-foot-nothing when they buried him, but he was now a tank given human form- well over six feet tall, at least two hundred pounds.

Then there was the less obvious. Jason had always been a dynamic fighter, explosive and quick on his feet, but where he once moved like lightning, he now moved like wildfire, fluid and lethal. Dick recognized the brutality, the swiftness. Somehow, Jason had been with the League of Assassins. It was easy to put two and two together; someone had dumped the corpse of his baby brother into the Lazarus Pit. His brother hadn’t turned away from the light; someone turned him. They would pay dearly. 

He went to Bruce immediately and demanded they kill call Talia. But Bruce didn’t react the way Dick expected. He didn’t fly to Nanda Parbat; he didn’t swear vengeance in the name of his son. Instead, he said, “This changes nothing,” and went to find the Redhood, stone-faced and deathly quiet.

Dick hesitated for all of a minute before suiting up and running after Bruce, taking care to stay just out of sight. He’d known Bruce for half his life and had spent about as much time cleaning up his messes; he knew when the elder was going to make a mistake he’d dearly regret. He wanted to be wrong. 

Still, Dick crouched in the rafters of the warehouse and watched. He wanted to sob, wanted to scream, wanted to rage as his Little Wing tossed the hog-tied Joker onto the ground in front of him. Keeping the fucking clown as a barrier between him and his father. His fingers flexed involuntarily around a WingDing as the Joker started cackling, “How sweet! It’s a family reunion!”

Jason yanked his helmet off and tossed it between him and Bruce- no man’s land. In a fucked-up way, Dick almost laughed. Jason was still Jason, even under all the rage and madness. Thank fuck Dick had found and defused that bomb- Jason’d probably go on too long, and they’d be blown to pieces. 

Any semblance of a smile faded away from his face when Jason spoke, “Ignoring what he's done in the past. Blindly, stupidly disregarding the entire graveyards he's filled, the thousands who have suffered, the friends he's crippled.” Barbara’s agonized face as she stared at the Batgirl suit from her wheelchair flashed through Dick’s mind. His knuckles popped as he clenched his fists. Jason wasn’t wrong. Dick had believed- had known- what Jason was saying was true; he’d beaten the Joker to death with his bare hands, all for Bruce to bring him back. 

 Dick shifted his weight, ready to drop down in a split-second, “You know, I thought... I thought I'd be the last person you'd ever let him hurt. If it had been you that he beat to a bloody pulp, if he had taken you from this world, I would've done nothing but search the planet for this pathetic pile of evil, death-worshiping garbage and then send him off to hell!” Oh, Jaybird. This was all wrong, all so fucking wrong. Bruce had lost his mind when Jason died; why wasn’t Bruce telling him?

Finally, finally, Bruce opened his mouth, “You don't understand. I don't think you've ever understood.” Dick was going to kill Bruce. Then, he was going to cart his brother off to therapy and ice cream.

“What? That your moral code just won't allow for that? It's too hard to cross that line?” So much therapy and so much ice cream. Maybe even a trip to a bookstore. Or an island. Just anywhere but Gotham.

“No! God Almighty, no. It'd be too damned easy. All I've ever wanted to do is kill him. A day doesn't go by that I don't think about subjecting him to every horrendous torture he's dealt out to others, and then... end him.” Barbara’s beaten form in a hospital bed, Jason’s tiny grave- Dick felt all too prepared to assume the burden for Bruce.

The Joker laughed again, “Aw, Batsy’s thinkin’ bout lil ol’ me!” Jason slammed a boot into the clown’s side, and Dick found himself almost cheering.

Bruce carried on, too stuck in his self-flagellation and morality, “But if I do that, if I allow myself to go down into that place... I'll never come back.” Boo-fuckin-hoo, Dick would stop Bruce if he went too far. He'd done it before.

“Why? I'm not talking about killing Penguin or Scarecrow or Dent. I'm talking about him, just him. And doing it because... because he took me away from you.” Dick was afraid that if he exhaled, he’d scream. It took him months to realize that Jason wasn’t his usurper- that he was just a kid who needed a family. If Jason thought for a minute that Dick hadn’t wanted to burn the world to ashes-

“I can't. I'm sorry.” Fuck this.

Jason chuckled, low and uneven, and Dick felt the hairs on the back of his neck raise, “You don’t have to. I will,” he pulled a gun from his hip, cocked the hammer, and lowered it to point at the Joker’s laughing face, “Him or me, Bruce. Either kill me, or I kill him.” No, no, no, no-

Bruce reached into his utility belt and drew a Batarang- NO

Time slowed. Was this how Wally felt?

Dick launched from the beam-

Jason turned away from the Joker, his mouth opened to speak-

The Batarang glinted in the flickering lights as it flew-

Dick screamed his brother’s name, arm outstretched-

“JASON!”

A river of red opened and poured out of Jason’s neck-

Jason fell to the ground, clutching his throat-

Dick was frozen. He was standing on solid ground. His brother was bleeding out ten feet away, with the Joker howling in laughter on the ground next to him. Dick could sense Bruce Batman behind him. Unmoving.  

It wasn’t something many people acknowledged- even in his own family- but Dick Grayson was a weapon given skin. He had trained with Raptor, Lady Shiva, and Deathstroke. They didn’t specialize in nonlethal force. Dick had mutilated, tortured, and killed in the name of justice. Batman just killed his brother. Carelessly, he flicked a Wingding into the Joker’s neck, slicing his carotid like Jason’s.

"Let him go," Dick triggered his escrima stick, sparks of blue crackling into existence, "now."

He turned to face the man he had loved as a father who killed his brother, his voice uncharacteristically solemn and steady, “You killed my brother.” Blue lightning crackled into existence, drowning out the sound of the Joker’s dying giggles.

Bruce’s Batman’s face was carved from stone, even as he raised his fists, “You broke the code.”

“Fuck your code,” Dick launched himself at Batman, escrima sticks raised, “he was your son!”

Once upon a time, many years ago, Bruce had taught Dick to fight, but Dick wasn’t trying to fight his former mentor; he was trying to kill him. Batman swung at Nightwing, aiming to shatter bone and rend flesh. They had crossed the point of no return, and they both knew it, “He came back wrong.”

Dick roared in rage, primal and furious, not speaking a word, slamming a well-placed kick into Batman’s weak knee. He was done talking. He’d tried to talk to Bruce Batman for years. If the old man wanted to fight someone, he’d be reminded why Nightwing was his contingency plan.

Batman fell to one knee, slashing out with a Batarang, but Nightwing caught it with an escrima stick, knocking it from the elder’s hand, and slamming the other into the side of his head. Dick dodged a sloppy punch, flipping out of the way with agility Batman could never match. 

“Stand down, Nightwing,” Batman bellowed, “That’s enough!” He staggered back to his feet, catching the younger in the ribs with a gauntleted fist. The force of the punch threw Dick, tossed him through the air onto his back on the ground, a pained gasp leaving his lips.

Dick snarled, a horrifying imitation of the smile he was famous for, “Never again.” He’d never stand down again, not for Batman. He launched into the air off his shoulders, his feet connecting with the Bat symbol, knocking Batman onto the concrete. 

Nightwing knelt on the Batsuit, pressing a Wingding into his throat, “You slit his throat.” Tears blurred his vision as he cut through the armor, the blade touching his former mentor’s skin, drawing a single drop of beaded blood. 

“Dad?”

In a heartbeat, Dick was on the floor between the Joker’s corpse and his brother. He thought he was dead; he didn’t check- “Jason,” the word left his bloody lips like a prayer, “fuck, Jason.” He pressed his fingers to his brother’s throat- there was a thick scar under the gore but no open wound. Jason’s pulse was fast and erratic- but it was there.

“Dickie?” Jason’s voice was small, croaky. Batman had probably cut into his vocal cords when he threw that stupid Batarang. (You should call them Batarangs- like Bat and Boomerang!)

“I’m here, Little Wing,” tears dripped off his chin onto his brother’s face, “I’m here, and I’m not going anywhere.” 

Distantly, Dick heard Batman jump out of a window. He didn’t care. He was holding his brother, his blessedly alive brother, fuck Batman. Birds of a feather stuck together.

[sekhonda]

Mafia 1 chatting again because .. I gotta say something about the perspective of one of my favorite youtubers who played it. He stressed me out BAD y'all .. as usual, spoiler under the cut.

Okay, so. I'm not an expert on the game or just the genuine mafia either. HOWEVER, I watched my favorite youtuber play the first one because I'm not playing it anytime soon. I feel as though the plot went entirely over his head. This isn't meant to attack him AT all because this stuff happens. There's people who didn't understand these games or just complex games in general. It happens with every game. However, the way he went about switching up on the characters was pissing me off badly. He mainly consisted of entirely glazing Don Salieri at a constant while wondering how Tommy could ever betray the family. Asking this question in the beginning whilst they show you nothing but the "good" things so far makes sense, but he really wasn't getting it. Tommy gives you his story because you need to listen to him. You are the cop and you are Tommy. You play as him, but you are entirely unable to change his story. You can't change something that's already happened. You are a listener. You're being asked to carefully listen to his story because he needs someone to know what's happened.

Tommy tells us at the beginning of the game that he is an immigrant to this country. He depicts how America is. Immigration was fully open, but the opportunities were entirely poor for immigrants. Tommy takes time to learn the language and has to live poorly as his father suffers through hard labor that barely pays anything. This is how America is. Tommy cannot put in an application to an Ivy league, get a degree, and be some banker. These positions are not open to him. They are closed to a lot of different types of immigrants. What irks me is if we know the history of America. The slave labor that black people had to go through way before this, you'd know the absolute cruelity of America. The racism, oppression, and unwillingness to help marginalized people. The want for "cheap" labor.

What does he do? Become a taxi driver. It's all he really can do, and it's not going to pay the bills enough. Then he meets Sam and Paulie. The funny thing is, this didn't even start with them. Not really. It started with Don Salieri and Don Morello. It will not end with them. You help Sam and Paulie get away, which later causes Tommy to be attacked. Under pure coincidence, he ends up at Don Salieri's door. He starts to work for the Don, like many do for better money, better living standards. HOWEVER, you see through the closest partners you have - through SAM AND PAULIE that this life takes a toll. You are told by the Don's closest friend, Frank Colletti, that he doesn't care who he has to hurt to get what he wants. To do what he wants. And you legitimately wonder why he's in front of a cop, disheveled after the number of times he's zoned out?? After he has blatantly hesitated at the act of having to kill someone. After all the people he's killed?

That's where you get wrapped in just like him, all the shooting, sitting there feeling powerful. You get distracted because you don't consider the innate trauma of the situation. Even when you have a wife to go home to, do you recall seeing her much? The family is their life. They don't go home to anyone. Not nearly enough as they should. Sam doesn't have a girlfriend or a wife. Paulie actively tells you he has no one at the age of 40 something. They got the nice suits and the money, but their lives are NOT normal. And you can't leave.

Paulie tried, and he was murdered. You had to kill your friend Sam for it. You don't see a pattern in this? In the evidence of other games? This doesn't end. Not after you've gotten involved. The fatal flaw is the want for a better future. A better life in a system that wants you gone. This goes deeper than even the Mafia itself. This is a system that's been set up. Many communities have something similar. Something that ropes you in because you don't have better opportunities. He does this because he has a family he loves. So no, he's not a hero to some. But at least in the end, he could be to his family. They're safe now.

It's someone else's time, Tommy isn't here anymore. It doesn't end with him. It never was supposed to. It's a cycle. It'll keep happening because there are no corrections in place. Not even prison can stop it. Everything stays, no one leaves. No one really can.

Because if you leave, Don Salieri sends his regards.

[speaker-anon]

Hidden Lamentions

You finally find out the truth. The reason felt wrong and horrible, yet it feels right and reasonable. 

(//first attempt writing is my silly anon suffering? that's crazy man /lh)

(//also please note i timestamped on how the events went by memory and the asks from vita an's the back side blog from memory which means i might get things wrong)

(//this takes place before the second phase of vita an's lore :3. now enjoy some suffering folks)

-1 Day before the rapture-

Walking away after exchanging reasons, drawing closer to somewhere more secluded in the back, the damn smile they put on while blasting earrape is finally cracking as the turmoil of emotions flood onto their mind.

Speaker couldn't get their thoughts together. They're going to disappear. They'll be wiped from existence once the rapture is complete. Once the door opens.

They never thought about the feeling of death at their young, carefree age before. But since finding some sort of truth in 🥀's intentions, they can't understand why the whole world has to disappear. Why they have to be caught in the way. Not even everyone knows the world will end soon, minus a few anons and other people like them.

The worse thing about it? There's absolutely zero chance they'll be in this "new world". Of course, blasting earrape to people is considered rude, even for the shits and giggles.

Of course, Peaky is aware that justice will rain down upon for their actions one day.

But why did the way of order have to be like this? They'd rather go to jail than die.

Even with what 🥀 said on how it's going to go, Speaker can't help but feel sick to the stomach. They place their newly bought and trusty round speaker to the floor as they sat onto the floor, near the wall.

"it's...not fair. not fair at all. why does it...?"

Peaky took out their phone and started scrolling through the internet, checking on people's posts on the social media website everyone uses.

Vampie's doing fine. Peaky still hasn't heard anything from Gray. Intern from Vita-Hona's pharmacy seemed fine. Everyone else was fine, other than a few people going through the horrors back at their places.

Tears slowly leak from the anon's mismatched color eyes, falling like water droplets dripping down the sink.

"this isn't fair"

Speaker tried to distract themself by playing a few rhythm games, but it doesn't work due to their eyes watering, obscuring their ability to see the notes coming down the judgement line.

Listening to calming, classical music doesn't work either.

This; all of this felt like a fucking nightmare to Peaky.

But what is there to do to stop it?

To stop the gears of faith?

To save (is there even a possibility) everyone?

To save themself?

Nothing.

Speaker is just a dumbass blasting earrape for their own pleasure.

They can't cry out for the entire day. That would waste the time Peaky has left.

Grabbing the speaker and standing up, Peaky took out a special device and clicked on a button.

Best to spend some time before they disappear.

-5 more hours till the end-

Speaker hoped they did well with the remaining hours. They talked with their new best friend Vampie, even asking a hug from them.

The comfort helped the fragile mentality.

Right...?

Right...?

Not really.

They still feel sad.

The fact they imagined the sound of clock ticking in their head, counting towards the end of everything, everyone, all at once as a new world shall be reborn.

Tears rolled down Peaky's face, but it's not that quick as they wipe it away.

Try to breathe. Focus. Drift your mind away from everything.

In, out, and repeat.

In, out, then repeat.

Repeat.

Repeat till there's nothing to repeat.

Nope.

Peaky choked out a few sobs. This is fate.

Let it take course.

It'll be fine.

It'll be fine.

It'll be fine.

Speaker rolls up into a ball, letting the tears fall.

There's not much left to do.

...

Peaky forced themself to get up, taking hard steps towards her location.

One last farewell.

One last farewell to the mastermind. 

Those might be as well the very last words they'll ever say.

Yet they wonder...will everything truly be in order? Will regret everything after the gears of fate stop and restart?

...

That's something they aren't sure of.

-3 more hours till the end-

Speaker opened their mouth, as the thoughts of their true feelings wove themself into sad, yet sharp words.

"...i shouldn't feel scared. i shouldn't {yet i am}. the rapture won't hurt {yet why do i act like it will}, just as you said. but i don't want to die. i know my actions won't allow me to make it into the new world. i just know it {not even if i change just in time}. i guess i'm bidding a farewell early, huh {i don't want to but there's nothing left to feel}? i'm scared. i'm scared of what happens next. but i got to face it with courage, not fear."

They leaned onto the wall as one last tear drips down their tired, sunken eyes.

"please remember me in the new world, 🥀."

Illith finished, smiling bitterly.