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luci3skydi · 1 year

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I repurposed the text for this from an a/b/o fic wip that I’ll probably never post, but it really goes to show how much space comics require: all three of these pages were one written paragraph originally. Which is below:

(I changed the text a little.)

Meta rant under the cut (not necessary to understand the comic):

So there’s this quick moment where Daniel offers a handshake to Johnny right after the sucker punch in the beach fight. He says, “Okay, man, now we’re even, huh?” angling for some sort of truce, but he keeps his right hand raised in a fist, protecting his face. It’s quick, but this moment says a lot about how Daniel and Johnny function within and react to the world around them.

Daniel offers the handshake, but is that only because he’s losing? He knows the fight’s inevitable as much as Johnny: he’s got the fist up. The fist is sincere. But is the handshake? As far as Johnny’s concerned, there’s only one path forward that makes sense: they finish the fight. But Daniel offers nonviolence, equilibrium as an alternative. It’s a baffling move.

Does Daniel actually believe they can end this here? Right after he landed the first real hit? Is he dumb? Or is this just plausible deniability in front of Ali (‘see, I offered him an out! I’m the good guy!’) Is it a taunt, like Johnny probably sees it?

It reads like an ill-fated attempt to save his skin, doomed to fail, but he tries it anyway. He’s got his pride and his world view (“well, it wasn’t his, was it?”) and someone to defend, so he doesn’t back down, but he can also try to turn this around (and maintain the moral high ground) by letting Johnny decide: the hand of friendship, or the way of the fist. If Johnny chooses peace, well hallelujah! But if he chooses violence, hey, Daniel’s still a good guy. The guy who got beat on, yeah, but for standing up for what is right. Daniel has moral clarity in spades and the strength and spunk to defend it.

Johnny really doesn’t have that same strength in identity and purpose that allows Daniel to adapt and prosper (when he’s not beset on by enemy forces) in life. Johnny’s plans at the beginning of this movie are so heartfelt and good and simple: he’s got one year to make it work, and that’s what he’s going to do, make it work. But the second he’s faced with Ali snubbing him and Daniel standing up to him, he throws all that out thoughtlessly. Because what he does and who he is are not the same in his brain. He molds himself into a Kreese clone to get friends, success, and a girlfriend. And that’s worked until recently. But his life is built on shaky foundations. (Enter Daniel “Bull in a Bonsai Shop” LaRusso.)

I think the difference between Johnny and Daniel is that Johnny only ever sees one path forward, he’s rigid. And Daniel’s flexible, he can see outside of what is supposed to happen, to what he really wants to happen. How he thinks the world could work, if people weren’t so hung up on pride and selfishness and how they’re supposed to be doing things. I think that’s why Johnny and him clash so badly in Karate Kid: Daniel is a disturbance to the natural order. He is a destabilizing element to the balance of Johnny’s universe (he questions Kreese!). He is another way to live and be happy outside of the narrow confines of masculinity and ‘might is right’ that Johnny has built himself up around. He thinks outside the box. And that makes him a freak and a twerp and an enemy. It makes him something dangerous to be crushed.

This choice between the open hand (‘open hand’ = karate, and in this metaphor; Miyagi’s karate, violence as a last resort) and the fist (‘the way of the fist’ = Kreese’s karate, violence as first response) is really a choice between Johnny’s plans to better himself, and his need to assert his dominance and win. And he chooses violence, (self) destruction, and essentially to lose everything (and for what? Pride? Kreese and the Cobras’ approval? Somehow winning Ali back by doing exactly what she doesn’t want him to do?)

In Cobra Kai Johnny’s a ‘I’m just giving it to you straight, this is how the real world works’ kind of guy, and one of his big character growth things is realizing that it doesn’t have to be that way, he has the power to make it different. Kreese’s Cobra Kai doesn’t have to be his Cobra Kai. He can let things go. He can fight for Robby (I mean, he doesn’t, but he could.) He can move forward and improve and even lose without it killing him. Karate Kid Johnny doesn’t have that awareness, he only has one view (Kreese’s view) and that is ‘if a man confronts you, you strike first, strike hard, no mercy, sir.” So that’s what he does. And he doesn’t think twice about it.

So when faced with this choice he chooses poorly, and he doesn't even see it as a choice in the first place. He takes less than a second to consider it. He fails at the first hurdle, and he doesn’t even realize it.

#long post #karate kid #karate kid fanart #cobra kai #cobra kai fanart #comic art #Luci3skydi art #this is just me trying to figure out how these guys think #which is why it's kind of a mess #I got that 'johnny's story' comic for christmas #and it was good but they didn't really go too deep into johnny's interiority which was a really big part of why I wanted it #they must have been hesitant to overstep #there was a great part where johnny goes to sid for ali advice which i never would have thought up but worked perfectly #johnny was sooo desperate for father figures holy shit #and then after the forced kiss johnny's like 'I asserted my dominance over her just like you said sensei kreese and it didn't work!#this boy is so dumb #tumblr erased all of my italics which is probably for the best I use them a truly terrible amount #but I'm still feeling :/

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dandyshucks-moving · 6 months

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woah rare other system part sighting lmao, here's a Guz drawn by not-Juno

#I was working with the base they laid out so I had to fudge some shit because they'd laid out the neck and shoulder weirdly RIP #like the head is too far over to the right lmao but I didn't feel like erasing a bunch of it to fix that #the hand behind the wrestling box corner thing is also goofed lmao #turning rbs off but Juno (Dandy is vaguely a cross-system name so it feels weird calling them that) might post the art later better #I don't know how they edit their photos but I think I maybe got close lol #this guys fun to draw tbh love a rough n tumble boy lol he's got the same body type as one of my OCs except Stasis is mostly a robot LMAO #dandyshucks #dandy doodlebugs #<- I'll add these just in case ig ?? idk Juno do what u want with this even if it means deleting it lol hope this is fine for me to post #ALSO THIS WONT BE A REGULAR OCCURRENCE LMAO I was just super bored tonight and happened to switch in during Juno drawing this guy #probably won't ever happen again lol #our drawing styles arent super different I think but also this is using a base they laid out so I would've done it differently lmao #maybe it is different though - apparently I'm not a good judge of shit like this bc they say I write and play accordion differently somehow #but I thought I was doing a pretty good job the other day of doing it like they do lmaooo but nah they said it was all noticeably different #I'm chatty tonight sorry lol been a hot minute since I've had any time in front but I'll scoot off now #💜so good at being in trouble

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clanoffelidae · 1 year

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the lorwolf early access experience so far

#lorwolf #rip to all these dogs that are gonna get erased when ea ends lol #i might keep zane's black scarf tbh but i want to check how a red one works on him first #haven't got one yet #also mantle is called that bc he has green on him #and earth's mantle is actually green!#fun facts #teal scarf girlie is rosebud <3 #zane was a wild woof who came with that name lol #also mira looks unreasonably good in those chef socks tbh #debating changing her name to lynx but like #it feels weird when she's a wolf #but tbf i named my progen on flight rising lynx so im sure id get used to it lol #mira was a name i thought about changing my name to #then i realized names are more trouble than they're worth for me personally so i didn't lol

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brudiza-spudnik · 2 months

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it's astounding how much technology hates me

#sp #honestly there's not much in this world i should be proud of more than my ability to use linux at all #because i have tech issues i swear to god like fifteen times as often as the average person #i dug out my old pocket operator (tiny little groovebox thing)#and i have gotten stuck halfway through a tutorial because it just Won't do what it's doing in the hands of the guy who made the tutorial #i had to erase the pattern to make it do what i want #and when i was trying to sync it up to an external clock it took half an hour of grueling trial and error #i tried an APP that's SPECIFICALLY BUILT to sync pocket operators and it just Didn't work #my tech literacy is the hardest won victory of my entire life

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boxingcleverrr · 5 months

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Popular Hades & Persephone "retellings" are, rightly, getting dunked on all over the socials right now and, as a Pagan who has an altar to the Queen, I could not be happier. But also, I feel like a lot of people miss WHY they're bad - aside from just plain bad writing and lazy tropes. Which are, yeah, also REALLY bad.

Pretty much all retellings try to wave away, or excuse, or twist the whole kidnapping bit. And I actually do have sympathy and understanding for why, when speaking from a modern perspective.

But honestly...you gotta get over it. There are other stories to play fix-it with, not this one.

The Abduction is The Thing.

Were I a little more sober I could bring up chapter and verse of the Hymn to Demeter but frankly, if you know even the middle school mythology curriculum version of the story, you SHOULD know the themes. The story of Persephone was one mothers and daughters in the ancient world held dear, because it was a reality: you will, one day, be swept away from your home to go cleave to a man you most likely know nothing about. You will miss your mother, but chances are very good that he will be a good husband, once you get to know him, certainly better than Zeus or Ares, and he will make you a queen of his home.

Leaving home to marry was often scary, and violent (look up the history of the tradition of Bridesmaids, if you don't already know it - they were originally decoys on the marriage road). Centuries later we'd have tales like Beauty & The Beast serving the same function: comfort, hope, you are leaving your safe loving home to figure life out with a (often older, powerful) stranger. Your trauma over this sudden ending of your childhood made manifest in a Beast, or a God of The Underworld.

It's wonderful that we don't NEED stories like this anymore to comfort us (here, at least, in this culture). But if you try to force them into modern vernacular it just will not work, not really, because you're gutting out the whole point just to have a more tidy romantic male hero.

I have read MANY very good ...novelizations? fanfic(? however you would frame them, but they're certainly not "retellings"), etc. that simply take advantage of the blank spaces in the myth, and there are many!

It's not explicit that sexual assault happens - "The Rape of Persephone" as a title was coined in much earlier eras, when the word was just as often used to simply refer to abduction.

"She was starving!" the gods didn't need to eat. So it's easy to read her eating the Pom seeds as a deliberate choice on her part. Like, shit, people, scholars have written whole papers on the symbolism of this moment, between marriage rites and even yeah, Seph choosing both worlds with her husband's knowing consent.

And that, I think, is the real heart of the thing. People want an utterly mundane, spelled-out story here, as opposed to what it really is, has always been, just like any other myth or religious parable: IT'S A METAPHOOOOOOR.

They don't need to be destined, or meet at a goddamned BALL and then CONSPIRE to fake her kidnapping, or shit, I once saw one where Hades got MIND CONTROLLED by Zeus?! Jesus.

Persephone was yoinked into the Underworld against her will.

That's how it went.

I don't mean this in a "stay out of my belief system!" way, shit I'm a white American chick with delusions of witchery. I mean this in a "stop stressing yourself out trying to make things palatable" way:

This is a very real, very precious myth to many people, BECAUSE for at least that one event, Persephone had no autonomy, BECAUSE for thousands of years most women had no autonomy. Erasing that, sanitizing the fact that a girl is ripped out of the spring, from her mother's arms, is erasing the thing that gave comfort to women for centuries. And people can and should still find power and healing in it now!

Fill in the blanks the story leaves in whatever manner seems fit to you, there's plenty of room, but. Come the fuck on.

#blathering #truly had a ramble bubbling for weeks #just pagan things

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stormsthatrage · 5 months

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Imagine: Samantha Manson rents an apartment with other students in university because she wants to pay her own way through college. One night, the other students throw a party. Sam takes refuge in the campus library during this, because she does not want to be around that. But eventually the library closes for the night, and Sam has to go back.

Sam walks in on the partygoers, still there, hanging out around a "summoning ritual" for fun. They're cleaning up -- the ritual didn't work, obviously.

Sam wordlessly halts the clean-up efforts in their tracks by taking one look at the summoning circle, seizing a paintbrush, bodying people out of the way, and making a dozen minor adjustments to the summoning circle.

It's Sam. No one stops her, and no one is brave enough to ask any questions.

Sam finishes, then walks off without saying anything.

The partygoers look at each other, and then immediately try the summoning ritual again.

(Look, Sam has a reputation as a goth and, if you believe in that stuff, as a witch. Not to say that any of them actually believe in that stuff, but sometimes it's fun to pretend like you do, and, well. They already decided to give it their best shot tonight, and they know that a Sam-approved summoning circle is the best shot they'll get.)

They read out the spell. The candles flare, the flame turning a dark, poisonous green, then blow out. A surge of black light shoots up from the summoning circle, and a presence thickens the air around them.

Before them appears a being that they know, in their soul, is not of this world.

A creature of the realm of the dead looms before them, crown ablaze with fury. "Who dares--"

Sam, nonchalant, wanders back into the room. Wanders over to the summoning circle. Casually erases, with the tip of her shoe, what they know from their brief study of their occult book to be the containment layer of the summoning circle.

Casually says, "Hey, Danny, what pizza toppings do you want?"

The presence fades, but does not vanish completely. "Oh, come on Sam," says the being that an animal part of them recognizes as of the realm of the dead. "What the hell, you know I hate that."

Sam wanders back out of the room, calling over her shoulder, "Well, I hate having my thermos broken!"

The being floats out of the summoning circle, and takes on the shape of a boy, touching down to the ground. The presence fades even further, until they wouldn't be able to tell the creature wasn't a boy if they hadn't already seen.

"Okay, first of all, that was at least 50% Tucker's fault--" it says, trailing after Sam. The conversation becomes unintelligible as they go to Sam's room and shut the door.

The partygoers are left in silence, with paint that has been turned to ash, brand-new candles that have been burned to stubs, and a terrifying new knowledge of the existence of the beyond.

And, for the unluckiest of them, terrifying new knowledge that the person they share a roof with has regular, real, dealings with the dead.

(Twenty minutes later, the pizza arrives. With a pineapple topping, of course.)

#danny phantom #danny phantom headcanon #danny phantom snippet #snippet #samantha manson #danny fenton #everyone who witnessed the events of the party is suddenly very wary of all of sam's friends #they don't know who is a human...

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theonlymadmanonmars · 4 months

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Hi hello hi. As an AroAce individual in a QPR who has no desire for a romantic or sexual relationship, I think shipping Alastor in QPRs is so so fun and people should do it more. I also think it works for a good amount if not all of the ships I've seen him in.

Alastor and Rosie: Hell yeah. They're already great friends and every interaction we've seen between them has been pure and adorable. Rosie Gently guiding Alastor through his identity because he isn't exactly up with the slang. Them going out for tea and human flesh Sunday afternoons. Them giving each other forehead kisses and holding hands platonically.

Alastor and Angle dust: Mhmm. Angle not really wanting Sex or romance after all he's been through. Angle respecting Alastor's identity and not pushing for anything more than friendship. Alastor not really liking Angle at first because of their differences, But tolerating him regardles. Alastor explaining to Angle that Romantic relationships don't have to involve Sex (I'm an Asexual Angle truther.) Angle offering Alastor a hug that Alastor reluctantly accepts. Them cuddling at night with a pinky Promise of nothing more.

Alastor and Vox: Go ahead. A fic about Alastor trying to Navigate exactly how he feels about Vox, Because when he died the term AroAce didn't exist, so he thinks it's romantic attraction, Maybe they kiss and Alastor is like "Ha! No!" Maybe that's why they had their falling out? Who knows.

Alastor and Lucifer: So So SO much Yes. (This is my personal favorite) The two of them hating each other, but putting up for each other for Charlie's sake. Slowly growing to actually tolerate and maybe even like being around the other. Exchanging snarky remarks in a more playful way. Alastor finding Lucifer sitting in a pile of ducks and despair and offering his hand to help him up and take him to the hotel. Never letting go of his hand. Fuck Enemies to Friends to Lovers I want an Enemies to Friends to Qpr arc goddamnit.

I do think it's okay to ship Alastor even outside of QPR's, BUT. If you do, don't just ignore Alastor's identity. AroAce people get far less representation than the rest of the LGBTQ+ community. I can think of one other canon Character off the top of my head. So it's not okay to erase the little rep we do get. In the end I think it's important to listen to what AroAce people have to say on the matter, it is our representation after all.

#aromantic #asexual #alastor #hazbin hotel #representation #radiostatic #radioapple #radiorose #radiodust #qpr #If you know any other Canon AroAce characters let me know.#I get it. Alastor is Hot and Charming. He doesn't eant you though.#Or anyone for that matter #Whaaaat this isnt begging for Fanfics what are you talking about??#If you do write any of these please let me know im in desperate need of QPR Alastor Ships #On a more serious not please stop ignoring AroAce people when it comes to AroAce representation #Don't ignore us at all actually

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inkskinned · 7 months

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for the longest time my family used to host one of the biggest haunted houses on my block: elaborate, themed amateur haunts that pearled out along our lawn for one-night-only. spinning circus wheel-of-terrors and walkthrough alien crash-landings and spiders that arched over our driveway, leaking venom onto your feet.

we didn't have a lot of money; and honestly i don't know how we afforded what we did have. there were not going to be pneumatics or projectors or any supply over 20 dollars - and even 20 was a stretch. we were lucky, and we lived in a town that had a "swap shed", where people would drop off any banged-up-but-usable items that they wanted to get rid of. the whole year, my family would pick over someone else's discarded fans and lights and weird decorations, asking each other - what do you think? for halloween?

we would strip the motors out of rusted fans and spraypaint vases and saw broom handles in half and apply a very thick coat of cardboard and duct tape to everything. for our pirate year, i made the mistake of individually drawing woodgrain onto each strip of cardboard that made up the ship. i then gently painted and distressed the "boards" so they'd each have lichen and cracks and unusual patterns. i hid eyes in the knots and shaped skulls. you couldn't see any of it in the dark, even under our "spotlight" (someone's target-branded workshop flashlight).

i have a lot of very strange skills as a result. i know how to make a flying ghost appear both physically and in the mirror. i know how to make a witch's brew that stirs itself. i know how to burn and cut and paint until there is an iron throne you can sit on, or an alien brushing your ankles, or a hearse trundling along. i can't say we ever made it beyond our local newspapers, but we tried so hard that the town would regularly shut down our street.

i can't put any of these skills on a resume, and i haven't been able to put them to use for a while. i live in an apartment, there's no lawn for me to decorate. for years i've wanted to do an alice in wonderland theme, and have been collecting ideas like coins in a fountain. at other houses, i am transfixed by 12 foot skeletons and paper mache spooky lanterns; easily wooed by the knowledge of how much time people put in.

someone asked me once - so what was the point? and why didn't you guys charge anything to show up?

in truth, we probably needed the money. for years there, we were a 1-meal-a-day kind of a family. i was being polite earlier up in this essay: we furnished both our house and our halloweens using things left a recycling center. we live in new england and still didn't turn on the heat until the end of november, no matter how low the temperature.

every year we would collect donations for unicef and other charities. on an average year, we would collect enough to pay for our food for weeks. every year, without fail: we donated every penny.

this endeavor took months to plan and design and execute. we had to organize any volunteers and check safety and hope-for-the-best. it took at least 24 hours to set up, a week to take down. the motors and fans and lights all had to be packed tight. the cardboard would scatter, pangea in the rain and sleet. i remember picking up a plank from that pirate ship, the paint blown clear off, all my hard work completely erased. a new kind of driftwood.

if this was a poem, and not a memory, i could wrap this up prettily. i could say that these skills landed me a cool job in the haunting industry or that it taught me the value of friendship and responsibility. but i actually think it's something better, something very pretty: there wasn't ever a moral to it.

the night was a long one. yes, there were assholes, people who broke stuff. but mostly it was just kids like us in cardboard costumes, dressed as an incredibly niche kind of truck. good parents who were friendly and laughing. teenagers who slunk in at late hours, wide-eyed and secretly delighted; who asked us can i help next year? like, do y'all take volunteers, or whatever? every year more people came, and told their friends, and offered to pay. and every year we said maybe next year and meant absolutely never.

we did it because it was enough to love something, and to make that love visible. we did it because there is very rarely an excuse to have fun. i think maybe especially, for me - we did it because every year, there was one first "customer" somewhere around 3-4PM, while we were still putting on the final touches. the sun would still be up, and we were frazzled and always-running-late, and these kids saw our vision unfinished in the bright light of day.

something about their parents murmuring say thank you and telling my mom this setup is so sweet while this little kid would grin up at us, dazzled by our artistic mediocrity. the fall air and the chill and their coat-over-a-panda-princess-costume. that first phrase of the night awkwardly managed over a pair of overly-large vampire teeth: a beautiful and excited trick or treat!

#wholesome #happy halloween #writeblr #just something to maybe warm ur heart in these times #my parents also usually let me take nov 1st off #this is the first year in like 20 years im not taking it off bc it became like a family holiday #i regret not taking it off but alas. capitalism.

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onlyhuis · 8 months

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can't get you out of my head

member — fwb!vernon x f reader genre — smut, like a little tiny bit of angst? with a happy ending word count — 2.4k synopsis — so what if calling your fuck buddy every other day is a little excessive? maybe you're just in love with him. smut warnings — descriptions of female anatomy, lots and lots of kissing, some dacryphilia, multiple orgasms, begging, creampie warnings — vernon is called hansol - i don't usually do that but just go with it; vernon is kind of a sweetheart tbh this ended up being pretty soft notes — june is back !! i've really been struggling to write these past few months so i'm actually super proud that i was able to sit down and write this as fast as i did. i can't promise another fic anytime soon or any kind of consistent uploads, but i hope you enjoy this meager offering! thanks for the support even while i've been gone :) also this is based on a dream i had about vernon the other day and i could not stop thinking about it it was driving me crazy, so everyone say thank you to my brain or the sandman or whoever put that idea in my dreams because this fic is a result of it. if there are mistakes pls ignore i wrote this at 2am

the thing you remember most about hansol is his lips.

the first time you kissed him was like opening a door to a world you'd never known existed. your past hookups had been terrible kissers, or even worse—hadn't even tried to kiss you at all. you were sick of the boring, underwhelming sex with men who couldn't care less if you got off or not. but some god or being in the universe must've been looking out for you, because finding hansol was nothing short of a miracle.

it was so good, you weren't even that embarrassed when you'd desperately texted him a couple of nights later, practically begging him to come over and fuck you again. he was burned into your brain, the feeling of his mouth locked with yours seared so deep in your memory you couldn't erase him if you tried, but it wasn't exactly like you wanted to.

he hadn't explicitly said you would only be a one night stand, but you usually didn't hang around the same guy for too long, and he didn't really seem like the commitment type anyway. but when you find something this good, you don't let it go, and somehow you both knew that whatever this was, it was too good to pass up on.

so it wasn't really a surprise when you found yourself on his couch, straddling his lap in the late hours of the night for the third time this week.

like you remembered, his lips were warm and soft, his cheek brushing against yours as you melted into him. you could kiss him for hours and not notice the time passing at all, so focused on the rhythm of his mouth working you up more than anything you'd done with any man you'd slept with before.

the heat of his hands resting on your hips sends shivers up and down your spine, unconsciously arching towards him as his tongue pushes into your mouth.

one gentle hand travels carefully up beneath your shirt, tracing the skin of your stomach before stopping at your breast, your heartbeat racing beneath his palm.

your breath is hot on his cheek as you readjust your position, slipping your knees onto either side of his hips and sinking down to straddle his lap. your clothed cunt throbs as he presses his bulge against the inside of your thigh, and you don't hold back the open-mouthed moan that escapes you as his other hand quickly reaches up to angle your jaw and guide your lips back to his.

you push your hips down a little harder on him and his nails dig into your breast. his grip tightens a little as his hips cant up against you, desperate for more pressure against his strained cock.

your eyelids flutter as his other hand tilts your chin upwards, finally breaking away from your mouth only to reattach his lips at the base of your jaw. his tongue laves over your skin before he starts to suck, and you shiver when he pulls back and cold air hits the wet patch of spit on your neck.

you have to focus hard not to drool when you open your eyes and catch a glimpse of his face, lust-glazed eyes staring up at you through his long, thick lashes, his intense gaze fixed on you.

if you ever get past this weird in-between stage of talking but not talking, maybe you'll tell him how jealous you are of his beautiful, natural eyelashes. if you ever actually get to have a conversation with him outside of calling to hook up, maybe you'll tell him how nice his lips are. you'll tell him how soft his hands are and how he's by far the best person you've ever slept with, leaps and bounds better than all the rest, and—

before you fully realize what's happening, you feel your shirt being pulled over your head and hansol's lips have made their way down to your chest. without a sound his hands roam your body, fingers drawing invisible lines over your bare skin and leaving trails of goosebumps with every touch.

he doesn't talk much during sex, or maybe you just don't know each other well enough yet for him to have much to say. aside from the way he occasionally murmurs about how perfect you are — an oddly intimate thing to say to someone who's just a friend with benefits, but coming from him it sounds so casual — the only words you ever get out of him are curses and whimpered pleas.

the only words he ever gets out of you are shamelessly begging him, please kiss me again, please, hansol; and you're always too far gone to care about how whiny you sound, because you need his lips on you so fucking bad you think you might just die without them. but he always obliges, quickening the speed of his thrusts and wrapping his arms around you tighter so he can kiss you deeper, until your lips are numb and you can still feel the weight of him holding you even hours after he's gone.

so maybe you do have a teeny tiny crush on hansol. anyone in their right mind would, and when he's finished with you tonight you're sure you won't have much mind left to even think about it. certainly this is a problem for another day, a day when you'll inevitably call him again so he can make you lose your mind all over again and you won't have to think about how much you like him, and you'll continue like that for who knows how long.

maybe he'll get bored of you, or find someone else, or move to another city too far for you to justify travelling for a relationship that isn't even a relationship…

… but then he lets out a little groan and you fall back into reality, the reality where you've been making out with him for the past half hour and he quietly but confidently lets you know if he doesn't get his dick out soon he's definitely going to cum in his pants and not only will it make him look like a loser but he also won't get to fuck you, which is the whole reason you asked him to meet up tonight, right?

well, yeah, you guess, but a part of you knows there's more to it than that. but that's not really a conversation for right now.

you lean down to press another chaste kiss against those lips that you can't stop thinking about, and your fingers pull his t-shirt over his head before finding their way down to the button at the top of his jeans.

you've had his cock inside you more times than you think you deserve, but still your stomach bubbles with excitement as he lifts his hips and shimmies out of his pants, the outline against his briefs more than enough to make your mouth water before he slips those off, too.

for tonight, you're the recipient of his undivided attention. you alone get to have him and his perfect cock all to yourself; maybe not forever, but for right now, and that's all you really need.

he presses his hand against his bulge, eyes squeezed shut in pleasure as you stand up from his lap to kick off your pants and underwear.

you must have been taking too long for his liking, though, because as soon as you're fully nude his hands tug impatiently at your waist and pull you back down onto him.

he lets out a heavy sigh, the head of his cock pressed deliciously against your clit as you start to rock your hips back and forth.

but before long his hands bring you to a stop and he lets out his usual string of pleas to let him fuck you, and now it's your turn to sigh in relief as he pushes into you, the stretch so natural like he was the only one who was made to sit you on his lap.

he doesn't move right away. he never moves right away, whether to give you a chance to adjust or maybe because he himself can't handle the feeling. either way, you always struggle to take in a shaky breath as your walls flutter around him, perfectly thick and long that you could probably cum untouched like this if you sat there for long enough.

but as badly as you want to never move and let him cockwarm you for hours, he always eventually moves.

he starts out slow, just a few inches at a time, a gentle in and out that's almost romantic until you feel like you can breathe normally again— right before he knocks the breath out of you, increasing his pace until the room is filled with the loud sounds of skin against skin.

he always fucks you like it's been months since he's came, even though you know for a fact it was last thursday and all over your stomach. all you can do now is hang onto his broad shoulders for dear life, nails scratching helplessly at his muscles as he carries you up and over the edge, pushing you into the first of many orgasms tonight.

sometimes he'll make a comment about how wet you get when he fucks you like this, rough and fast as he pounds into you like there's no tomorrow. and that's when you'll agree, yes you love it so much, yes he's so good, yes you need more and please, please keep going.

if it were anyone else they'd probably smirk at that, satisfied with the momentary boost to their ego. but that's what you love about hansol, is that he's not anyone else: he'll take those words and use them to somehow fuck you even rougher and even faster, so rough and so fast that sometimes tears will start to roll down your cheeks, and that's usually about when you start begging him to kiss you.

you can't help it. the way he bounces you so effortlessly on his cock, his lips parted and beads of sweat trickling down his neck, you need him bad. you want to be closer to him, closer than you know is physically possible but damn if you won't try anyway.

throwing your hands around his neck and falling against his chest, tears still streaming from your eyes as you plead with him, repeating his name over and over and over like you've lost your mind and he's the only thing left. in all honesty, maybe he is.

he quietly shushes you and tilts his chin up to capture your lips in the kiss you so badly crave, and it's everything you need and more and somehow still not enough but you can't think straight anymore when his cock is hitting you just right and his mouth is also just right and each vein, each curve, each ridge, drags perfectly along your walls and he's splitting you open and goddamn you are ruined for anybody else.

you feel like you're skirting in and out of consciousness when you cum again, squeezing around his cock so tight that even his powerful thrusts can't continue at their current pace.

it isn't long before he lets go too, holding you flush against his body as he fills you up, painting your insides white with a breathy moan, and in a weird way it makes you feel kind of proud.

you both sit there for a moment, panting as you start to come down.

without even standing up you already know your legs are jell-o, but you don't really have time to think about that as hansol lifts you off his lap and sets you carefully on the couch, leaving you with another kiss before he stands up and disappears down the hall, returning seconds later with a towel that looks suspiciously new.

you'd asked him about his bathroom towels last time you'd been over at his place. a mismatched collection of white and brown and aquamarine that he'd taken with him when he'd moved out of his parent's house, he said, he'd never really had a reason to buy a set of his own.

the grey cloth in his hand now that he uses to gently wipe between your legs is one you don't remember seeing.

he finishes and you want him to kiss you again, but you're too shy to ask now so he leaves you again with just a kind smile this time.

you've put most of your wrinkled clothes back on by the time he comes back. he offers to drive you home every time afterwards, but you always insisted you were fine, already feeling like you'd overstayed your welcome.

this time he doesn't offer, though, just quietly sits down next to you to pull on his own clothes until you're both fully dressed.

he speaks before the awkward silence has time to set in.

"have you been seeing anybody else?" he asks, and it's probably the longest sentence he's spoken to you outside of when he's fucking you.

it takes you a couple seconds to say no. god, you sound like a loser, but you couldn't lie to him. since the very first time with hansol the thought of seeing anyone besides him hadn't even crossed your mind. just like you thought; ruined.

it takes him a couple seconds to reply, too.

"good," he says, and you could almost swear his cheeks are pinker than usual as he admits that he hasn't been with anyone, either. "could we keep it that way?"

your breath catches a little. "yeah?"

"yeah," he answers. "whatever… this is, i like it. and i like you."

and just like that, things make sense.

"maybe, would you, y'know, wanna stay this time?" he asks, and you can't hide the grin on your face as you lean over and kiss him again, your answer evident in the way your hand falls against his warm chest and your fingers weave gently through his hair.

everything is so simple with hansol.

i hope you enjoyed this!! if you did, consider reblogging or leaving a comment or an ask :) it shows me this is something people want to see more of, and knowing people like this makes me want to write more of it! thanks for reading!!

> taglist | @wonderfulshinee @noniestars @onlymingyus @just-here-to-read-01 @wonuziex @enhacolor @yourfavoritefreakyhan @dkakapizzaboy @zozojella @rainyjeno @jwnghyuns @uwuheeseungie @miriamxsworld @synthetickitsune @simeonswhore @junhour @foxdaisy @limesorbets @98-0603 @fairybinie @anthropologymajorkpopmultistan @mingminghao @ifuckcheol @jeanjacketjesus @luvwonyy @tinkerbell460 @novalpha @ronnie97b @ohmygodwhyareallusernamestaken @usari @hyneyedfiz @honestlydooetree @oscarcantread @ktackore @k-drama-adict

> strikethrough means your blog cannot be tagged, please check your visibility settings and make sure they are off so i can tag you properly!

> if you want to be notified when i post a new fic, you can join my taglist here!

#1k #k-labels #kflixnet #[📌] — june.writes #[❤️] — smut #[💟] — vernon #vernon smut #svt smut #seventeen smut #vernon scenarios #vernon imagines #vernon x reader #svt fanfic #svt scenarios #svt x reader #seventeen imagines #seventeen fanfic #took me a sec to remember how i do my post formatting LMAO #i havent forgotten about my 1k requests btw i still plan on doing those. at some point in the next decade

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avis-writeshq · 8 months

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summary: "drop everything now, meet me in the pouring rain."/"kiss me on the sidewalk, take away the pain." The first time you meet Spencer Reid, you swore that you could feel the sparks fly. You figured that it would be unreasonable to ever consider him to be anything more than a friend, and in a moment of selflessness you tell yourself that you are perfectly fine in that position. As time goes on, the line between romantic and platonic love begins to blur indefinitely. But it would be ridiculous to think that the resident genius would feel anything for you... right?

pairing: spencer reid x bau!fem!reader genre: best friends to lovers, fluff, hurt/comfort, angst, slow burn, mutual pining, happy ending warnings: rated 16+ for canonical criminal minds trauma, drugs/relapsing, torture, therapy, panic attacks/night terrors, guns, death, ‼️always read each fic's individual warnings for triggers‼️ taglist [CLOSED]: here playlist: here status: complete

main masterlist || ao3

bonus! 00 — l.d.s.k

in other words, the first time spencer calls you 'angel'. // wc: 2.2k

part of my 2023-2024 milestone event! you can find it here!

01 — better than revenge

“she’s not a saint, no, she’s not what you think. she’s an actress.”

you thought you were past the immature arguments now that you're an adult. you thought you left those in high school, or even college. maybe you thought you did. apparently, spencer thought otherwise. // wc: 10.4k

02 — haunted

“something’s gone terribly wrong, you’re all i wanted.”/“you’re not gone, you can’t be gone.”

it wasn't supposed to be like this. it was supposed to be a normal open-shut case. but people are unpredictable and you're left picking up the pieces as you work yourself to the grave. // wc: 10.1k

03 — labyrinth

“uh oh, i’m falling in love”/“thought the plane was going down, how’d you turn it right around?”

everything hurts. it's understandable, after everything he's went through. spencer wishes that he could erase every one of his scars. he wishes he could stop chasing the highs and embrace the lows. but at least he has you. // wc: 3.8k

04 — you are in love

“you can hear it in the silence.”/”you can hear it on the way home.”/”you can see it with the lights out.”

spencer didn't think that something like this could happen. no, rather, he wanted to deny the fact that something like this could happen. but all he can think about is you. in other words; the four times spencer wants to kiss you, and the one time he wishes he did. // wc: 3.4k

05 — enchanted

“please don’t be in love with someone else”/“please don’t have somebody waiting on you.”

the line drawn in the sand that was once supposed to be an invisible boundary to never cross is washed away by the sand. these are the kind of lines where you could never go back to should you cross them; and yet here you are, so scared to see the ending as the two of you pretend that this is nothing. // wc: 4.9k

06 — untouchable

“come on, come on, say that we’ll be together”/“i’m caught up in you.”

so close and yet so far. maybe in some twisted way, you are each other's romeo and juliet, doomed from the beginning. or maybe you are each other's hamlet and ophelia, the tragedy of a love that never really was. // wc: 4.3k

07 — wildest dreams

“he’s so tall, and handsome as hell”/”his hands are in my hair, his clothes are in my room.”

never in your wildest dreams did you think that you would be privileged enough to experience something so good. spencer reminds you that these things are reality. // wc: 3.3k

reblogs are always appreciated!

taglist [CLOSED]: here

#spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #criminal minds #criminal mind x reader #matthew gray gubler #matthew gray gubler x reader #spencer reid x reader fluff #spencer reid x reader angst #criminal minds fluff #criminal minds x reader fluff #matthew gray gubler x reader fluff #matthew gray gubler x reader angst #mgg #mgg x reader #criminal minds angst #criminal minds x reader angst

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las-lus · 10 months

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Aziraphale lied Theory

First of all, this theory is not mine, its from @/doubleskk on Twitter and can be found HERE. Go show them some love! It's in Portuguese, so I'll do my best to translate it - blue texts are my personal additions!

This season, we have something very clear in Aziraphale's development arc: is his relationship with LIE. He lied to protect Job's children, and he lied he had performed a miracle to make Nina and Maggie fall in love. That's not counting other little lies, sprinkled throughout the season here and there.

We keep seeing Crowley say "I'm a demon, I lie", but in the big finale, we have Crowley saying the truth - the big truth, the one he has been avoiding for 6 thousand years.

All of this was to set the stage for the biggest lie of all: the lie he had to tell Crowley to fend him off and protect him.

When Metatron goes to buy the coffee, he asks Nina if people ask for death, as the name of her shop is "Give me a coffee, or give me death". What if that name is an allegory for the actual conversation between Metatron and Aziraphale?

Aziraphale may have been threatened. Either Azira goes back to heaven (coffee), or he and Crowley would have their existence erased from the Book of Life (death). So, to protect Crowley, Aziraphale had to invent a lie to make sure he got away. The Book of Life was namedropped a couple of times in the show, a Chekhov's gun that never went off - Neil is too good of a writer for that.

And Aziraphale knew that Crowley would be pissed if he agreed to go back to Heaven after everything that happened, and he knew that Crowley would never accept being an angel again. "But rescuing me makes him so happy" - Aziraphale had to make sure Crowley wouldn't realize he needed saving.

That's why he knew exactly what to say to mess with Crowley.

At 41:14 of episode 6, when Azira starts telling the (alleged) lie to Crowley, he becomes all flustered, moving his hands from side to side and stammering, SAME PATTERN as when he lies to the angels about having done the Nina and Maggie fall in love, in episode 2.

[This part really works better with 2 videos side by side, which you cannot do on tumblr, so if you want you can check them out here]

The sequence of him talking to Metatron at the table is nothing more than an enactment of his lie. The conversation didn't go like that, Aziraphale made everything up.

And when Crowley declares himself, Aziraphale starts shaking his head in despair: not now, don't tell me that now.

He also looks out the window as soon as the confession starts, as if he knows Metraton was watching him outside.

Then there's the kiss, Aziraphale falters for a moment, but he has to keep up with the lie and he knows he has to hurt Crowley on purpose. And after Crowley leaves, Aziraphale is MUST recover in seconds, because Metatron is coming back. Also notice that when Metatron comes back, he doesn't ask if Crowley agreed to go back to heaven or not. He just sends a "How did he take it?"

That is, there was never any choice, and for Metatron Aziraphale was only going to break the news that he was leaving. And Aziraphale had to invent a lie to the inmates to make sure Crowley stayed away from him.

#good omens #good omens spoilers #good omens season 2 spoilers #good omens theory #LISTEN I AM FULL ON THIS THEORY. ITS LIVING IN MY HEAD RENT FREE

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ethereal-blossom · 1 month

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Giving BSD boys a blowjob for the first time

ft. dazai, kunikida

warnings: blowjobs (surprise!) MDNI

a/n: kinda wrote these in mind thinking it was also giving them a handjob for the first time so I guess that's double the fun!

Dazai Osamu ♡

Your eyes looked up to find Dazai's face, searching for a sign of approval. In response, Dazai let out a validating, soft moan and closed his eyes as he nodded. "You're doing excellent, belladonna."

It wasn't unexpected. Dazai, sharp and observant as a hawk, had seen the way your eyes lingered over every small change in his facial expressions. While you were dating, both of you had agreed to take things slow. Even small milestones like holding hands was a huge thing for the man that was wrapped in bandages. The slow burn of deepening your relationship into each other's hearts until it left a permanent mark that even time couldn't erase, was wonderful.

But with time grows desire. Dazai teased you to the point of dilated pupils, hitching breaths, and a blush that cups your cheeks. Exactly like planned, the detective thought, smirking behind the mask of crafted innocence. Except, the plan had been for you to beg him to touch you; not that you would beg to make him feel good as your fingers pushed his hips onto the couch. Dazai is highly aware of his intelligence that makes him read people as if they are a children's book, but sometimes, he thinks he doesn't always grab your nature. The type of nature that has you on your knees in front of him, getting high off of his pleasure.

When you wanted to focus your attention back on the twitching cock in your hand, the sight of Dazai's fingers grabbed your attention. You knew Dazai better than any living soul. Although still a mystery novel that hides behind words of deceive and avoidance to keep parts of itself hidden until the time of reveal is there, this mystery novel was slowly showing you its pages that brought you closer to the truth.

One of the mysteries revealed was Dazai's massive self-control over his external reactions. Emotions were another vulnerable aspect of what it meant to be human, and Dazai hid them masterfully. A part of that was because it functioned as a tactic to reach his goals and stay in control, but a part of you wondered if it was because Dazai feared vulnerability more than a bullet. Emotional suffering is torture for the ones with a sensitive heart.

While Dazai's face was decorated in controlled bliss and his moans playing like a soft lullaby, the slender fingers around the sheets were clinging for dear life. You see... could you make another crack in that composed facade?

Your thumb starts drawing circles over Dazai's tip and with that, you witnessed the twitching of both his cock and fingers. A soft groan escaped Dazai's clenched jaw. "Ah, that's my belladonna. You're soo good to me, hm? Working hard for that reward." That controlled tone...

... It wasn't enough.

Dazai could tell something changed. Even though he had his eyes closed in concentration, clinging to the tiny bit of control he had, he noticed how your stroking became irregular. "What's filling your mind that isn't my- argh, shit." Dazai's eyes shot open as he bolted his hips deeper into your mouth, leaving you gagged for a good second.

That face of pure shock and arousal, the one you rarely got to see on your lover, revealed itself to you as you had taken Dazai's tip into your mouth. "Y/N, that's-"

Another lick and Dazai's original sentence was replaced by a moan, and the detective felt like all control slipped between his fingers when you placed your hands around the rest of his cock.

Dazai grabbed your hair, hissing you to go slower because oh God, he was about to cum faster than he ever did in his twenty-two years of living, and God knows he did not want this euphoria to end this soon. Oh, he really wasn't used to feeling this good-

"Belladonna, y/n, please-" Dazai didn't know what he was begging you for. For you to go slower? Faster? What it was, you hummed in approval. That little vibration was all it needed for Dazai to throw his head in his neck. His toes curled as high-pitched whines fell over lips that had become swollen in a miserable attempt to hide his moans.

When you looked up after swallowing, you were met with Dazai's bangs hanging over his eyes. "Osamu, are you okay?" Worried, you push the chocolate colored bangs aside and... oh.

He was so pretty with scarlet painted cheeks. Dazai couldn't even look you in the eyes, giving up after one second of eye-contact before shyly facing another side with his head. "That was... good. For a first attempt."

You chuckled as your hand caresses the cheek that faced your way and with a slightly hoarse voice you respond: "Good. I'll make you even feel better next time."

Dazai's hands twitch one last time before he closes his eyes and mentally picks up every string that he lost along the way. As the detective opens his eyes, you can see the control and seduction in those dark eyes that you love so much.

Dazai leans closer until you feel his breath on your ear. His lips tickle and a shiver runs down your spine as he whispers: "Someone has earned that reward, hasn't she? Let's see how long I can make you last."

Kunikida Doppo ♡

Rubies could not compete with the radiant red glow of Kunikida's face as he realized what you were about to do. The detective should have known you were up to something when he was preparing today's schedule and you had popped up behind him, placing your arms around his waist as you kissed his neck and whispered: "Keep a spot open at 8 PM, love."

Even when the blond had asked for details, your lips stayed sealed. The only hint Kunikida got out of you was "Dazai has made you work over-hours; I want to treat you."

Naively, innocently, Kunikida thought you might have a dinner or massage in mind. Not that he was wrong! It was just a... different type of massage. With your tender fingers wrapped around his cock, Kunikida clenched his jaw to not make a sound, but the moan slipped away as he sighed your name: "Y/n... I, we-"

"Does it feel good, Doppo?" You made sure to rub his tip with your thumb right then, making the detective's cock drop with pre-cum.

"It- yes... yes, it feels good."

Looking up blessed you with the sight of an orderly man turned into a mess under the tip of your fingers. A wave of arousal rushed through your body, seeing the man unravel in front of you. You figured he would be vocal, but oh-

Kunikida was sensitive. The smallest movement had him throwing his head back and trusting his hip as tiny moans calling your name filled the room. Not only were his cheeks the color of fire due to the heat of your touch, but the intimacy of it all left him flustered as well.

You felt a hand rest on your head, lightly gripping a bit of hair. "Y/n... we, you- I have to make you feel good, too."

Oh. "That has to wait."

"But- ah!" The hand around your hair tightened in response to your mouth taking his cock.

Kunikida's thoughts were twirled up in the storm that was you. Your name rolled off his tongue like worshipping prayers as you brought Heaven to earth for him.

The bliss of touching Heaven became too much, and with one closing word, Kunikida fell apart. He arched his back, forgetting to bite his lip to soften the groans that might slip through the walls where his colleagues live. His grip around you tightens, never wanting to let you go, never wanting to let this feeling go. But then Kunikida realizes he's still on earth and lessens his grip on the fear he's hurting you.

The detective looked into your eyes, but they were filled with lust directed at him and God, it felt so sinful that he had to deflect his gaze. Yet, you grabbed his chin and made your boyfriend face you.

"Do you feel better?"

Kunikida stammered, trying to get out a word. "Yes, that was," an embarrassed cough, "excellent."

Your thumb caressed his lip. "Good."

And then, the world flipped around as Kunikida lay your back on the bed. "I have done a deep-dive research on how to please you when the time was there. Now, let me return the favor."

#dazai x reader #kunikida x reader #bungou stray dogs #bsd smut #dazai x you #kunikida x you #bsd scenario #bsd dazai #bsd kunikida #dazai x y/n #kunikida x y/n #dazai smut #kunikida smut

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pawberri · 13 days

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The key problem with "proship vs anti" discourse is that the most extreme versions of each side, the ones who actually bother to identify with these labels, accepted each others worst takes as arguments they had to debate. "Fiction =/= reality" is, in practice, an absurdly reductionist, anti-intellectual, thought-terminating-cliche that dictates we can learn nothing about a person via art and that their fiction reflects no political or moral messaging worthy of critique. In response to this, the "puriteens" who are too young to possibly hope to articulate their discomfort, to untangle their position from what is often real trauma experienced online, simply argue "yes, fiction influences and reflects reality in a 1 to 1 capacity." They, and people who want to use the groundwork they laid to make bad-faith callouts, make bad arguments about how the action of engaging in problematic fiction is on equal ground to real life abuse, or is a clear indicator of interest in real life abuse. Both of these arguments are terrible, but each side seems to radicalize the other further and further into their own brands of anti-intellectual reactionary belief. "Proshippers" become libertarian absolutists about free speech and view all transgression as righteous and alternative and therefore leftist. They gain a reactionary nostalgia for the past, desiring a time when people didn't seem to care about the implications of art. "Antis" become authoritarian and hypervigilant for signs of moral decay, at their worst, willing to align themselves with government bodies that offer carceral solutions to the debate. They are willing to use harassment as a tool of punishment, which then leads to false accusations and a fear of openness that puts people at risk of being triggered via obfuscation. (That said, proshippers also take part in plenty of harassment.)

I will say that I believe both of these movements are equally sensitive to co-opting by right-wing forces. We see the authoritarian tendencies of anti culture in harassment campaigns and even the way Republican law makers co-opt "grooming." The proship/fic crowd has such extreme nostalgia for the past that I often see people align themselves with the cultures of 4chan or other happily right-wing websites. They so heavily reject the idea that a drawn sexual depiction of a child could reflect any desire that they are disinterested in analyzing what the motivation behind the depiction is. i.e If we track the history of lolicon in Japan we do find that is, yes, countercultural, but that counter culture is right wing, very misogynistic, and defensive of patriarchial Japanese culture as it is and was including its culture around rape and abuse. Plenty of fictional content works as radicalization material, and radicalization material needs to be ambiguous. There is a valid reason to be hesitant to trust people who consume this content, even if I do not believe most of them will ever be dangerous towards children. The mere presence of sexuality is not enough to make a movement left wing. This kind of thing can again be seen in right-wing libertarian movements in the US. (And even leftist movements can be bigoted and even "pro-pedophilia" or otherwise disinterested in social reform around abuse.)

Is all content with elements of age-play this way? No. But to me, that is why kink media deserves to be treated as art and analyzed, critiqued, treated seriously. It doesn't have to do anything to anyone to be worthy of a moral critique. Said moral critique just doesn't warrant harassment and cruelty and reactionary exaggerations of the person consuming said content.

Anyway, what's my point in saying all this? I don't know. I'm just begging you to tag your God damn content with specific tags instead of random and nebulous shit like "dead dove" or "dark content", and also begging you to stop harassing people who do tag their content so I don't have to guess what "dead dove" and "dark content" mean. No one will erase incest kink fics or people who feel sickened by the idea of them off this earth because we aren't god, but we could at least all be responsible about tagging, flagging, and age-gating our stuff.

#csa tw #long post #proship anti tw

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alllgator-blood · 2 months

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I s2g if you add the layers of these comic pages together, it's over 350 layers. THIS is why I don't do full color for my comics lmaooo- ANYWAY EVERYONE HERE HAS AN AU APPARENTLY, SO THIS IS A BRIEF GLIMPSE INTO MINE. I don't know what to call it yet but I'm thinking of calling it "famous prophets" because 1. I like that car seat headrest song, 2. it's about shamura who is prophetic, 3. it's about trying to outrun fate with the Power of Love (and failing. Like the song!!!). It takes place when all the bishops were teens/kids during the age of hundreds of gods at war, and were trying to survive as a family.

I'm really excited to work on stuff for it but it's all gonna be drawn out of order. Maybe I'll write a full explanation of what it's gonna be about when I have a better idea...I want to channel my eldest sibling angst in a productive way, and maybe establish a QPP between shamura and a completely random npc everyone forgets about <3 also kallamar is trans too cause I said so. I'll do a comic about it eventually. Instead of an absence of gender he has TOO much gender. It simply cannot be contained.

I like that nonbinary genders are normalized in cult of the lamb to the point where nobody singles anyone out for being a they/them, it's not like "THIS IS MY SIBLING SHAMURA. THEY ARE NONBINARY AND USE THEY/THEM. ALRIGHT BACK TO KILLING YOU", it's just like "don't you fucking dare make my poor sibling wake up from their nap to kick your ass. Cause they deserve better than this."

But at the same time I like having the freedom to be more specific, and say "shamura is voidpunk and their gender is best described as the feeling that overtakes you during the first snow of the year, when everything outside is deathly quiet". This comic is actually derived from the time I was walking through a forest that's been torn down for a few years, and came out to my little sister as trans. I must've been like 13 or 14 and she didn't really get it as a 10 year old, but it was better than my mom FREAKING OUT about me coming out. So it was a nice little bonding moment between just the two of us. I don't have a good memory so I don't recall how it went unfortunately...

Now, the climate is a little different. My sis tried out transmasculinity for maybe 5-6 years before feeling happier as a woman, my mom is trying to be Based and flaunt her Woke trans children, and my dad remembered "oh yeah trans natives have existed before colonization. Maybe me being transphobic is a product of my culture being erased" and has gotten better about calling me the right thing. I have a mustache (thanks pcos!!) and wear skirts and am not a repressed "tomboy" teenager anymore. But I can't help but wonder what would've happened if I could've been like shamura and just...been nonbinary without people being fucking weird about it. Or been born as a badass war god who will tear you to shreds before you can perceive my birth sex. I know they're fictional but they are my ultimate gender envy GRRRRR BARK BARK BARK

Here is the secret image for this post- I listen to mostly EDM when I draw cause it keeps the energy up, but as I was finishing up shamura's poetry part, I was like THESE ARE JUST KMFDM LYRICS so I made this

#cotl #cult of the lamb #famous prophets au #alternate universe #shamura #heket #kallamar #narinder #the one who waits #leshy #comic #violence tw #blood tw

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