#asphixiation mention

[randomwriteronline]

Klavier Gavin has his eyes on the man and a smile on his lips.

“Fancy seeing you here,” he smiles and it looks sweet and nice and fake beyond recognition but he is honest when he speaks. “I thought you were busy defending every single accused of an entire country.”

Apollo Justice has his eyes on the man and does not smile.

His shoulders shift in some kind of uncoordinated shrug, he avoids the other’s gaze for a moment: “Law schools are booming,” he explains in that way that he speaks, so matter-of-factly and dry. “I’ve gotten some time off to come back.”

Klavier Gavin hums and nods: “A little vacation must be nice.”

Apollo Justice is not in his screaming red suit, which is jarring but makes sense since he is not working. It’s still an insane amount of whiplash, because they are colleagues so to speak, and it feels like he is either naked or a completely different person who was mistaken for the screaming attorney. It feels like it’s not a state a colleague is supposed to see him in.

Apollo Justice looks back at Klavier Gavin in the eyes.

“How are you?”

Klavier Gavin turns his smile bitter and tilts his head.

“You know I do not like this game of yours, Herr Justice.”

Before Apollo Justice can unfurl from his own shoulders where he has recoiled defensively and argue about the statement, Klavier Gavin gives a vague wave at the large golden bracelet on his wrist.

“I cannot be honest with you and I cannot lie to you. So when you decide you want to play your little spot-the-differences game you get me in a nice little cage where no matter what I do you get your pie and you eat it too, and I don’t like that in the slightest.” he says.

“It’s not a game,” Apollo Justice replies.

“And what is it then, worry? Concern? I know you’re a clever boy who reads his news of the legal world, you know enough. Didn’t you even call me? Yes you did, I remember that.”

Klavier Gavin has a voice like ice and a stare that’s like slowly pushing nails into the hands of his interlocutor. He wants him to feel uncomfortable.

He wants him to leave.

“It’s been a while since then,” Apollo Justice mutters.

“And what do you care?” Klavier Gavin gives him the most beautiful smile he’s ever given a man and tilts his head to the other side with a practiced airy laugh, looking as charming as a prince. “What have we got in common, hm? Aside from a few cases? Verdammtes Nichts, as far as I remember. Oh, but you are sweet.”

Now the words drip molasses, but Klavier Gavin doesn’t bend down teasingly.

“Getting worried for me. Is it Fraulein Wright who sent you? Is it Herr Edgeworth? Is it Herr Wright? Is it that friend of your co-worker, that judge-in-training? Woods, was it?”

“I came here by my own volition.”

“Of course you did.”

Apollo Justice glares at him angrily.

“Would it kill you to believe I really did come just to check on you?”

“Interesting choice of words.”

Apollo Justice bites his tongue and glares harder.

“I’m fine,” Klavier Gavin laughs, hands in the air, “I’m not fine at all, but considering I used to think of killing myself thrice a day I suppose that just once weekly is far better, ja? Wouldn’t you agree?”

“Don’t say things like that,” Apollo Justice mutters.

“Why not? Is it not the truth? What does your bracelet say, am I lying? Will you have to press on and cross-examine me?”

The bracelet is perfectly unresponsive.

Klavier Gavin smiles.

Apollo Justice glares.

“I don’t like you at all, you know,” Klavier says suddenly.

His smile drops.

“I don’t like you in the slightest. I truly cannot stand you.”

Now he looks at Apollo like he’s some kind of specimen to study, with a face like death, and the younger man seems to make himself smaller.

“I have nothing against you and I don’t like you at all,” Klavier continues remaining perfectly still.

Apollo doesn’t reply.

“Did you know I tried to kill myself four times?” Klavier asks. Of course he doesn’t know. Even Herr Edgeworth only knows of one. “The first time I wanted to bleed out in a bathtub after Kristoph got convicted.”

Apollo sinks in his shoulders, uncomfortable.

“The second I tried to defenestrate myself,” Klavier continues, looking at him to see how far he can go to make him shrivel and leave. “For Daryan. Because I couldn’t stand getting reminded of all that. You remember Daryan, don’t you. Don’t you? You were right there. I bet you remember him.”

Apollo does but says nothing.

“The third time I tried to… Well, the third time was pathetic.” Klavier notes. “Hanging myself with a tie. Not even hanging. I tried choking myself with a tie. Can you believe that I thought tying the loose ends to a door handle and kicking the door away from me would have just snapped my neck in half?”

Apollo recoils.

“I was so certain of that. But it came undone and I just knocked myself out on the floor. Must have been hilarious to look at. Absolutely pathetic. It was Miss Corte’s tie, my teacher, the one who got murdered? She got it for me. You can piece this one together yourself, can’t you? You’re so clever. So verdammt clever. Ein verdammt klug Kaninchen, bist du nicht, Herr Justice. Doch du bist.”

Apollo doesn’t even look at him in the eyes anymore.

Klavier wants to kick him in the stomach and ask him what is taking so long for him to fucking leave.

“Do you know for who I wanted to kill myself the fourth time?” Klavier asks. Apollo shakes his head slowly. “Guess. Come on, guess. I bet you can’t. Guess.”

Apollo doesn’t guess. Klavier keeps himself from slamming his fist against his shoulder with all his might.

”Guess, I said. We did your little bracelet game, now do mine. Guess.”

Apollo doesn’t guess.

Klavier takes one step forward, watches him close a little tighter in his shoulders.

“For you.”

Neither speak. Both just wait.

“For you,” Klavier repeats slowly. “I tried to kill myself for you.”

Apollo looks at his own feet. He can catch the tip of another pair of shoes about to enter his field of vision.

“Don’t you think that’s weird?” Klavier muses. “That all these people I loved couldn’t get me to die, but you almost did?”

Apollo bites his lower lip.

“It might have been the time it happened, du wisst. I would have split my head right open, the ambulance would have been there in fifteen minutes to get me to the morgue… All nice and clean. My only mistake was calling Herr Edgeworth to send the ambulance instead of my manager, or the Paynes. Or Blackquill, even. They don’t have the same power over me that the chief does, you understand…”

Klavier trails a moment. Takes him in.

“And I would have died because you were never coming back.”

He listens to his own words as they leave him slowly.

Apollo listens to them as well.

He looks back up, eyes pointed directly into the ones before him.

Klavier looks so fucking tired.

“You wanna sit for a while?” Apollo just says, also suddenly tired. He gestures vaguely to a nearby wall, to the pavement near it.

Klavier follows his hand with his gaze: he leans against the wall and drops so heavily there’s no way he didn’t get hurt. Apollo crouches before sitting next to him, elbows on his knees, and looks far away from him.

For a minute or so they don’t speak.

“Who gave you the right,” Klavier says, toneless. “Who gave you the right to do that to me. To make me like that.”

Apollo knows he turned his face to look at his, but holds his stare away onto the end of the corridor.

“I don’t even like you.”

Well.

“I think you’re fine.” Apollo says. “As a person.”

Klavier still looks at him: “Was ist das,” he mutters, “Ein Lob? Eine Art Liebeserklärung? Tu mir ein Gefallen und geh dich ficken. Ich habe keine Lust, diese Scheisse zu hören. Du denkst sowieso das nichts.”

“I think you’re fine.” Apollo repeats a little louder. “As a person.”

“Ja, sag das.” Klavier hisses. “Sag das lauter. Dann können alles hören, wie echt das ist. Bessischene Kaninchen vom meinem Arsch.”

“I think you’re fine,” Apollo says much louder over his insult. “As a person.”

Klavier desists and looks into nothingness with him.

They don’t talk.

For a long, long while, they don’t talk.

Thank anything and everything that those who do see them sitting miserably like that make no comment or barely even register them.

Klavier slams a fist into the wall.

“Why you?” he croaks. “Why was it you?”

He sounds in pain.

Apollo thinks it’s pretty clear. He convicted his brother; he convicted his friend.

He didn’t kill his teacher, but he was there for the trial and for the investigation, and he played courthouse with him in the same school the body had been found, with the same fucking script, forcing him to feel everything longer.

Somehow, if something horrendous happens to Klavier Gavin’s social sphere, Apollo Justice is always there.

“Did you talk to anybody?” Apollo asks. “About… The people?”

“No,” Klavier answers.

Ah.

That explains it.

Apollo Justice is the only person who knows Klavier Gavin barely has a social sphere anymore.

And once Apollo Justice flies to a fuck-off country on the literal other side of the world and just does not come back, Klavier Gavin feels the weight tenfold and lets his knees buckle horrendously and cracks his head open on the cement.

And you don’t call some guy who has worked with you a couple times for help with something like whatever all of that can be called.

Apollo Justice has people he can talk to about losses.

Klavier Gavin doesn’t, and he goes to therapy, and it’s not working that well it would seem. Or maybe he never got to consider the possibility of the last person because of whom he tried to die coming back and so his first response was vitriol and anger and some kind of something else that Athena Cykes would pick up in a moment if she could just hear him speak now once.

(Apollo might ask her if she wants to check on Klavier. She could help.)

“We can be friends,” Apollo says gently.

Klavier doesn’t look at him: “So I have a better reason to kill myself?”

“So you can call someone who cares about you to say ‘hey I feel like fucking garbage do you want to talk about how you’re the only person who knows I’m completely alone in this bitch of a world’ instead of just some fucker from work,” Apollo snaps. “And next time you say that I’ll beat you in the head. Don’t even joke about that.”

Klavier pulls his upper lip up in a snarl until his face doesn’t even look like it’s his anymore, like any moment he will turn around and tear him apart with his teeth, make him a bloody mess of gore, cannibalize his corpse.

“I hate you,” he says, and the bracelet tightens.

“That’s a strong word.”

Apollo watches him huff and bare his teeth first, then hide them.

“It is.” Klavier concedes.

Now Klavier fidgets. It’s not something visible like a physical tell or other stuff like that. There’s just a tension about him that fucks him up, it’s plain to see.

“I don’t like you,” he repeats. “I don’t even like you.”

He yields; his body leans to the side heavily, his head falls to rest on brown hair.

“I don’t even like you,” he sobs.

Apollo listens to him breathe.

He leans into him as well.

God.

“Do you want to be friends?” he asks like he’s fucking three years old and they’re kindergartners at the park or something.

The answer comes weak and honest and frankly tearful: “Yes please.”

Apollo swings an arm behind the tanned neck and over the shoulders and gives him a half hug, tugging a couple times to get him a little closer, to make him feel welcome and held enough. His mouth presses flat on blond hair and neither of them makes a deal out of it or out of the fingers combing through the wires of gold, not even a sound or a strangled cry.

“I’ve got you,” he just says against the prosecutor’s head.

Klavier believes him and feels like puking his guts out on the floor.

#klavier gavin #apollo justice #ace attorney #suicide mention #suicidal thoughts tw #cutting mention #defenestration mention #asphixiation mention #random writing #a continuation of my previous aa fic #klav continues to be not ok feat (thinks abt a post pointing to how hes flirty at first but then shows he doesnt like pollo that much) #the theme in my current works seems to be men in misery arguably because i myself am currently a man (debatable) in misery #hopefully it will stop tomorrow once i either pass or fail the next exam #if i fail im dropping tf out of uni <3 ive already failed one and im not taking any fucking chances babes!! #if i cant get it right at first then theres no fucking point trying again!!! #dont be like me kids. #other works of my men in misery series include uncomfortable weirdly hateful-but-not-really sex with murder kink(?) apparently #and two ace lads forget about asexuality existing and have miserable sex as a replacement for physical affection and romantic love #(and one of them is aromantic so the other isn't even getting what he's doing this wretched thing for) #both are in italian so good luck finding them

[cats-and-confusion]

This might be weird to some people but I just love the whump trope of a character being forced unconscious (in a safe environment with a happy ending).

Characters getting asphyxiated, characters getting sedated, characters falling victim to sleeping gas, characters getting chloroformed by well intentioned people, characters that protest because they don't want to go to sleep yet they have JOBS to do, characters that relax in someone's hold because they trust they'll be taken care of while unconscious, characters that thrash around because oh god everything hurts, characters that pass out from pain once they're finally safe. Characters that are villains getting drugged by hero doctors and taken care of is a personal favorite of mine that I don't see enough of.

The idea of being forcefully unconscious in the presence of people who have honestly good intentions, respect boundaries, and will take care of you, but you have to be asleep for your own good, is the best thing ever.

#whump #whump ideas #whump stuff #sedation #chloroform mention #asphixiation #sleeping gas #drugging cw #tw drugging #whump inspo #whump inspiration #whump prompt #passing out

[allie-writes]

pressure and the deep sea

Rating: Mature Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Category: Gen Relationships: None Other relevant tags: Character Study, Nightmares, Panic Attacks Word count: 509 Language: English Read on: AO3 | Fanfiction.net

When he dreams, he is suffocating at first.

CWs: asphixiation, drowning, death-imagery, blood and injury (canon-compliant and non-graphic), past trauma, panic attacks

When he dreams, he is suffocating at first.

It is pitch dark, and there is blood in his eye. The air is thick and stifling; his lungs burn with the effort it takes to continue breathing. In and out, in and out, through the pressure on his chest. In and out, in and out, despite the walls closing in on him. In and out, in and out.

From above him, a rhythmic tchk-tchk-tchk cuts through the roar of blood in his ears. Digging: above him, inside him, shovel into dirt, dirt into body, body into dust, and ashes to ashes. The walls tremble and come ever closer before the ceiling begins to sink as well and his breaths grow shorter with it. Anything to force the dwindling amount of air into his lungs, anything to keep on living, anything to remain defiant.

Aspiration passes his lips in hot and moist and disgusting bursts. It condenses, right in front of his face; then, it begins to drip. Water dribbles onto his cheeks like somebody else’s teardrops, fat and heavy and salty. It burns where it gathers in his empty eye-socket, stings in the bruises littering his body, and eventually, it drowns his rasping, desperate breaths.

There is still air, somewhere, but he can’t seem to find it. His lungs are already waterlogged.

He chokes on the river that pours into his mouth, then coughs around the waves that are forcing themselves out of his respiratory system. His bones feel hollow and brittle where they rattle inside his clammy, soapy skin—a water corpse in the making, trapped inside a pretty, shrinking aquarium.

He is not yet submerged, and still, he drowns. Above him, muffled, rain hits the ground. No one is coming for him; he cannot remember much of anything, but this, he knows for a fact. This is the last stage of abandonment, of being discarded.

(Sometimes, he will dimly remember that someone did come, back then. But in his dreams, they don’t.) He grows delirious as his lungs begin to give in. It’s a losing battle now: no space, no air, only water and dirt and blood, and pain, and he drowns, he drowns—

And Qifrey sits up.

The room around him is dark (like the inside of a coffin—), his shirt soaked in cold sweat (like rainwater—) and he can’t seem to recall how to breathe normally for a few seconds (because he is still being suffocated, because he is still drowning—). His fingers are numb.

He is safe. He is home.

The girls are sleeping just down the hall, tucked into their soft beds. Olruggio is probably awake in his own rooms, tinkering the night away. The blankets pooled in his lap are warm and sweat-damp and heavy, and the air in his room is fragrant and plentiful. In the morning, they will have a breakfast of bread with jam and hot tea.

His entire body trembles as he wraps his arms around himself. Tears prickle behind his eye.

Breathe. In and out.

In and out.

#witch hat atelier #wha #tongari boushi no atelier #qifrey #wha spoilers #tw: drowning #tw: asphixiation #tw: death mention #tw: corpse mention #tw: panic attack #tw: trauma #tw: injury #fanfiction #word count: <1k

[littlegeecko]

Company.

3k+ words | Clint / Kudzu Téngwàn | Echo: Visual Novel (2019)

Trigger warning for:

Sorta there Asphixiation experience, mentions of Brian

---

Summary:

Clint has a nightmare, then takes a moment to think about his life up to this point, and what he wanna do with it now that he's living with Kud

(Takes place after Jenna's good ending, i fill up some spaces here and there to explain their presence)

Enjoy : ]

---------

Clint POV

---------

I open my eyes.

I'm sitting on the ground, i know because there's dry dirt under my paws, but for some reason i don’t even question how i got here.

It's dark, so dark i can't make out where i am without squinting my eyes more than i usually do. I can hear the wind shaking nearby trees with a hollow whistle, it reminds me a bit of a train’s horn.

It feels like my body weighs a fuckton, my head and neck heavy and sluggish as i move them

My eyes barely adjust as i look up, to the sky, or what i assume it's the sky. It's red like blood, and some stars adorn it

Usually my vision is not that bad at night, it must be really late with no moon for it to looks this way, and so far i knew, the sky shouldn't be red...

I'm sitting in the middle of a....forest? Alone, with nothing but the sounds of nature around me and a ghostly sensation of familiarity that makes my shoulders relax. I say nothing

Deep breath in, and another out...

Branches crackle and grind together in the distance, that hollow whistle again

Breath in...breath out...

It's familiar, like a distant memory of something i can't exactly make out right now, but it sorta reminds me of that one time i followed Duke to the forest area because i was bored without Jeremy.

Duke got very angry, hissing at me in a hushed yell while looking around, then dragging me back to the entrance of the forest by the arm

Then he stood there, watching me go up the road as if making sure i was far enough to make his way back into the lush

I blink slowly. Before i close my eyes fully

Duke...i wonder where is he now.

I take another breath, but this time there's a pressure in my neck right under my Adam's apple, i get my hands up to my throat, almost a reflex

I feel something ragged, prickly and firm that scratches my paw pads like a cactus; rope.

A noose.

My eyes fly open as my ears go down.

No.

Please no.

I gasp, and suddenly i'm standing, my paws barely touching the ground and i let out a strangled wheeze, forced out my lungs as i try and grab the noose for some leverage.

I'm hanging, but i'm not hanging. Its a loop of panic and relief that lasts too short each time, everytime, my desperate breaths ending in shaky coughing

I try to weigh myself down bending my knees to no avail, letting out a whine of exertion and pain as the noose grazes my neck and leaves behind that prickling sensation again. It's strangely numb, but the pressure it's all the same.

It's stabbing me, it hates me.

 There's beads of hot blood going down my collarbone, i can feel them, i'm briefly reminded of the little cross figurine that catboy had around his neck, for some reason

I look around as i breath too fast, expecting to see something, anything that could help me get out of here, but there's only darkness.

I try to keep my whines and groans low, still trying to bend my knees. My furless tail swishing side to side as frantically as me. I hear a branch snap in the distance and-

My blood runs cold when i see it.

Standing there. A huge shadow.

It walks towards me

It's face's obscured, but it's someone huge, towering over me. It's holding something.

I can't make it out in this darkness, but its all so familiar, realization hitting me as my throat closes in around a soft squeak of absolute terror

I freeze on the spot, my hands holding onto the noose like my life depends of it as more wounds open in my pawpads, my heart hammering in my chest and filling my ears until it’s all i can hear

It breaks through the noise, i hear a snort and a high-pitched giggle that melts into a distorted, disturbing laughter, i swear i can hear static laced into it. All of my fur stands on end and i feel my neck veins bulge under the strain, i feel like there's a rock inside my throat, about to make it snap

No...it can't be. It can't be him. He’s back?!

I screw my eyes shut and i scream, with all my might, but no sound comes out.

I open my eyes.

It’s dark, but i can make out the padded ceiling and moonlight coming through a window by my side, as i turn my head to it i feel the surface under me sway ever so slightly, a water bed.

Kudzu's trailer, Kudzu's bed. Right.

I let out a sigh, it's cold outside and no sun is visible, so it must be around 3 or 4 am.

I sit up and stare down at my covered paws in silence. Usually when i dream about...him i wake up hassled and yelling, curled up in a ball by the corner until Kud calms me down with his strange little mouth sounds, but this time it feels...different. i feel empty.

If anything my head is fuzzy, my lips dry, chapped. My fur feels a little damp with sweat, except the zones around my cheeks, those feel wet and i rub my eyes to dry them. My hands are shaking

It's almost dead silent if it wasn't for the occasional chittering of the cicadas outside and the faint noise of a fan somewhere in the trailer.

I look at the curtain that leads to the hallway, cracked open a bit

Without much thinking i stand and get out.

Kudzu's trailer is very fancy and cozy, at least to me; small but organized, colorful and with all the essentials, it can get a little hot but it's really chilly during the night, perfect to curl up in bed and nap. It smells earthy, clean and a bit musky, our smells combined at this point from how long i've been living with him.

“...”

I look at a small calendar on the kitchen counter as a pass by; 2 months.

It been 2 months since me, Jeremy and Kudzu escaped on the “ghost train”, 2 months since some people helped Kud move his trailer out of Echo and into a separated zone in Payton for him to stay for as long he saw necessary, 2 months since some people picked up my sis from back there too.

2 months since i started going clean by force, and Kudzu took me in

Speaking of...

Soft snoring gets my attention from behind me and there he is, laying on the couch with a thin blanket covering him from his belly down, chest rising and falling

I stare openly, i don't feel my face move

Like an invisible force pulling me, i walk up to the couch and stand by his side, looking down

And i just....stare at his sleeping, peaceful face.

The cicadas chitter, like they're singing a song...

Kud seems to be having a good sleep at least, if it wasn't for the occasional shifting around.

I remember the conversation we had last night when he complained about his back being stiff, and i said he could sleep on his bed already, but he refused, the bastard. He said he “wanted to make sure i was comfortable and had some privacy” while i stayed with him, so he went to sleep on the couch, just like every night.

I frown a bit

Kudzu was such a weird dude.

He looked, and acted, like a fucking badass, even if he was so much shorter than me!

...And i've caused him so many problems already, he could easily kick me out and leave me to my luck, specially after all the badmouthing, scratches i've given him at times, and how my nightmare-induced yelling makes his face scrunch up in an expression i didn't like on him.

But he hasn't kicked me out, if anything, he has tried his best to not bother me in particular ways, making me feel “comfy” as much as possible

He was quiet and sensible, soft and honestly kinda girly. He had a new garden and shit, and spoke all firm but tender, especially to me, with a smile an' all, it kinda pisses me off, to be honest. Speaking to me like i'm a stupid pup...

I pout, watching him adjust his head in his sleep

His ear gets caught up under his head and i resist the urge to reach out and fix it for him, i don't want to wake him up, not right now.

...

Sometimes i can't help but wonder what is his fucking problem.

Why is he letting me stay? I'm nothing but a nuisance, a pest, everyone seemed to agree on that. Even Duke did... and even so Duke was kinda nice to me before hell broke loose. Keith was the same... Both of them lost in the void as time went on until i had no one but the gang and...

I ball my hands into shaky fists as i think of him, a lump forming in my throat as i try my best to keep tears from forming in my eyes.

...Duke was...he had his issues, and it was my mistake to follow him around to the forest when i shouldn't have, i know that. And Keith just kinda left, God knows where is he now. Both of them were nice to me but somehow ended up making things more shit than they already were

What makes Kudzu different from them? How do i know he's not going to turn his back on me when i least expect it? Or worse. He could be...scheming something. Something to do with me

I scratch my neck as i feel the fur in my nape stand up. The scars long healed but still sticking out my fur

I bite my lip to not make a noise as my stomach feels suddenly hollow.

It's a scary thought, Keith always said scary thoughts were normal and i could analyze them to get over them. It was a thing Kud said sometimes too, something about healing

Healing...

I look down at my hands, old scars on my wrists barely visible by now, and many more on my fingers, i wiggle them, my nails growing better and no longer chipped  around the edges. I see my tail curling in between my legs and it's so weird to see how fluffy it is now. It's been years since my tail looked this full of fur

Kud reminds me of Keith a bit sometimes, but he's quieter, his moves sharper, physical contact even more limited than Keith had with me.

Keith tried to protect us from the horrors of that shitty town, and failed, leaving us to our own luck... Or maybe Micha was right and he really got killed by... Him.

...could that happen to Kudzu now that i'm around him?

Somehow the pit in my belly felt emptier as i suck in a sharp breath through my nose.

No. I don't want Kudzu to get hurt, specially not for my fault

He's so kind... and he's been so patient with me even when he's visibly tired at times, that i know. I grit my teeth, i'm not fucking stupid, like Micha, Leo and he thinks i am.

He has treated me so well and i haven't done anything for him, what if i do it too late? When he's already in the face of danger cuz of me?

No, i can't let that happen, Kudzu is so cool and good. I don't want him to hate me and leave me like Duke, or to disappear like Keith...

I grip my head fur, pulling at it, and let out a long groan as my yowls pull back in a pained grimace. I wish i could get a hit right now and not think about this difficult shit that made my stomach do flips and my eyes water. It was annoying as fuck, it made me want to break shit, but i can't break any of Kud's shit, obviously.

I hit my head with the flat of my hands, my nails scratching at my thin fur with force as i pull-

"Clint?"

My eyes fly open to find a groggy Kudzu looking up at me, expression concerned as he seems to try make sense of the situation.

"...What are you doing?" His voice is firm, but not accusatory, he seems legitimately curious, worried even.

The sensation in my stomach is replaced by the beating of my heart just like in my dream, it quickened at some point apparently, but it's not super loud, it's more like when you get caught doing something you shouldn't. Embarrassment

I slowly pull my hand away from my head as my body relaxes...

I open and close my mouth, my tongue grazing over a missing spot between my teeth.

"...Couldn't sleep"

I say simply, albeit a bit shaky. He notices, he always does

Kud visibly relaxes with a strained side grin, groaning as he slowly sits up and rolls his shoulders. He rubs his eyes

"Another nightmare?"

I nod. He looks up at me.

"Want to talk about it?"

I shake my head no

"Very well" he adds, sitting up completely with a soft hiss, his hand rubbing his lower back

I stand there staring then blink in realization, both that i'm just there ogling like an idiot just playing with my thumbs and that this is a good chance to do something for him for a change. I clear my throat

"Do you want to sleep on your bed?" I ask, trying to keep my voice from wavering. He shakes his head no and i frown

"I told you i'm fine on the couch"

"That's not true" I say quickly

"Clint, i just-"

I growl in annoyance, and before he can give me that same retort from last night i grab him by the wrist, his eyes snapping open as his body tenses up

"Clint!"

I don't let him complain as i yank him up and off the couch, briskly walking to the makeshift bedroom, and he follows, stumbling a bit

He doesn't speak further more than a sigh, and i open the curtains for me to crawl inside and tug his wrist

"Get in" i say, and in a moment of sleepy lucidity he seems to pause as he catches on me also being on the bed

"I know you're trying to be nice but-"

"I'm not fucking asking ya. Get in"

I tug more insistently and this time he does follow, looking to the side as if bashful, but either too tired to fight back or just done with my shit at this point. We both know he's stronger than me, and yet he lets me do this

"You're sleeping here till your back feels better, ya hear? Even if i have to hold ya down"

He actually does chuckle at that as he gets on the wobbly mattress, shuffling about to lay his head on the pillow, and actually letting out a satisfied groan as he comfortably sinks on the bed

He has that smile on his face when his eyes turn up to me, half lidded but focused, and my mouth goes dry all of the sudden

"Well thanks, Clint" he gives me an amused look, and i can't help but think he probably believes i'm too much of a pussy to sleep alone after a nightmare. I don't fight it tho

I do a little 'hmp' in agreement, laying on my side and looking at Kudzu, whose eyes are now closed, nose pointing to the ceiling

...I look at him up and down for a moment, my tail twitches as it sways side to side between the wall and my legs. My ear twitches

Kudzu...Kudzu is really nice. I need to step it up if i'm staying here with him for God knows how long.

I'm no longer a pup or a youngling that needs Duke or Keith to guide me along. I'm on my own shit now, and away from Echo, hopefully forever. Hell even my sis made it out eventually, staying at some place only for girls...

If i'm going to survive out here too might as well get along with the one person that's actively doing something for me, unlike the others, which to be fair? they also have their own shit to deal with

I thin my lips, i sigh and relax my body, scooting a little closer to Kud, hopefully he won't notice.

All of this took my mind off the dream i had, slowly fading into the void just like the rest of em, and i, too, slowly fade into nothingness for the night. After all, Kud will be there when i wake up. I hope.

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

Kudzu’s POV

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

Light peeks through the blinds of my window as i crack an eye open, groaning at the sun beams directly on my face. I stretch my arms over my head with a groan, then yawn

I remember last night pretty well, specially since it was a dreamless sleep... I rub my eyes as i organize my thoughts and look at the little wall clock beside my pillow

8 am... Still too early for Clint to wake up

Speaking of Clint...

This time i don't have to stand up from the couch and check behind the curtains to see how is he, as right now he's laying beside me...more specifically, on me, his eyes closed and expression serene as soft snores warm the fur on my chest, one arm (and leg) draped over my body.

My chest feels a little tight, position a bit too similar to old memories, but at the same time... it's welcomed, it feels kinda nice. I'll never tell Clint but i actually think he looks a bit cute when in a chill mood, heh...

I smile down at him and make a move to get out of bed, but his grip suddenly gets firm, holding me down and against his thin body with a sleepy grumble, face easing again when i stop my efforts.

I open my mouth to tell him i gotta stand and get ready for the day, but i close it, laying my head back on the pillow with a defeated sigh, i  guess i can stay for 10 more minutes...

My hand absentmindedly goes up to Clint's back and i feel him tense up, then relax, cuddling closer, his thigh over mine

I feel my cheeks get a little warm, but i quickly stifle the twisty feeling in my chest, closing my eyes.

I can already hear Clint saying the position was a total accident when he wakes up, and i can't help but smile a bit.

It's good to have some company.

-----------

:3c

#echo vn #echovn #echo project #clint echo #kudzu tengwan #fanfic #i write #so that just happened! #i was gonna post the art by itself but i decided to add this wall of text to it since i dont have time to expand on it visually lmao #s/o to the echo server girlies who cheered me to post my cringe

[literaphobe]

🥒

think ur stupid? it took me until TODAY to realize that the last line in dream’s cum diss against george in mad verse city (‘i’m not corpse but i’ll leave you choken’) was about george choking on his dick and not… him spontaneously strangling george after getting his dick sucked. i finally understand why the whole thing is sexual

#ask #suggestive tw #asphixiation mention #nsft #nsdl #strangling mention #dnf #mcyt #sigh

[siren-of-agony]

Revenge Is a Confession of Pain

Masterpost

Part 1 is here

CW: Chained up, asphyxiation, torture mention, trying to do a tiny lil bit of revenge, lady whump (in the sense that it's written from the perspective from someone using "she" pronouns, her being a woman has not anything to do w what's happening)

She was prepared for just more pain when she was led into the tent by the chain around her neck, and fastened to one of the wooden poles keeping it up.

What she wasn't prepared for was her brother, being led in from the other side. She hadn't seen him in over a week, was seperated from him for longer than ever before. None of the pain, the manipulation, all the degrading shit she had went through, had ever brought her as close to losing her mind as this had. Being apart from him felt like being apart from her soul. She was incomplete without him. The moment their eyes met, she knew her brother felt the same. More a reflex than anything else, she started running towards him. She needed to be close to him, make sure none of the bruises and open wounds all over his body would kill him, needed to asess the damage. She needed to hold him, shield him from whatever their owner had planned.

He had had the same thought, and was always faster than her, so he was running towards her first. He was also the first, then, who got thrown to the ground when the chain on his neck pulled taut when he was still very much out of reach, choking him, the power with which he had run towards his sister now landing him on his back. Before she could fully register what happened to him, the same happened to her and all she saw were black spots dancing along the roof of the tent. For a moment, she couldn't even remember what it felt like to breathe, and the metal around her neck combined with the hard contact her back had made with the dirt floor made her wish it stayed that way. When she, almost involuntarily, tried to take a first breath, all she could manage was a cough, her extremities pulling towards her, her whole body turning to the side as if she could escape the pain by just rolling away from it.

This is when her eyes finally manage to focus, on shoes she knew all too well. Shoes that had kicked her, shoes that had been put on her neck, or her face, or wherever they pleased, just one too many times. When the ringing in her ears finally quieted down, she could also hear a chuckle.

It had happened, once again. She and her brother, made to suffer, just for his entertainment. Seperated, not to teach them, or punish them, not really. Everytime she was made to feel pain, it was for him, just because it brought him joy. She always knew that, and it had always made her angry, and she had always fought, but something in her always held her back. She knew she had no chance against him. She knew, whatever she tried, she would be punished for it, and even worse, her brother would be punished for it.

But now, with the only person she cared for still laying on the floor, gasping for air, the ground being soaked in blood from wounds that had reopened, or maybe never really closed, and her, just out of reach, not being able to care for him, something in her broke. There was nothing worse he could do to them than seperate them, not really.

Her brother had always been faster. She had always been stronger. Her body didn't seem to care about the lack of oxygen anymore. She got up on her knees and turned towards the pole holding her. She gripped the chain with both hands, and her tormenter stopped chuckling when the pole snapped in two, having no chance against the desperate force with which the chain got pulled through it.

She sprung to her feet, the chain still around her neck, but now also in her hands, she was chained, but had broken free.

A part of her screamed at her, to go to her brother, to protect him, hold him, make sure he was... well, certainly not doing good but there? Alive? Something. But for once, her wrath was stronger than her love. She looked directly in her torturers face, and everything had happened so quickly, and he was so unprepared, that his eyes still had an expression of joy, only slowly turning to surprise.

With all her power, she pushed herself forward, large steps closing the distance between them fast. The chain in her hands was long. Long enough to wrap around his neck and start pulling on both ends. It was hard to get a good grip, freeing herself seemed to had opened up the wounds to her palms left by a cane days prior, and the blood made the metal almost slip from her hands. She hooked her fingers into the chain links, pulling harder. The adrenaline rushing through her body made sure she didn't even feel the pain.

The face in front of her still looked surprised, more than anything. She didn't want to give him the satisfaction of speaking to him, explaining herself, but her voice broke out of her nevertheless.

"What, did you think you could break me and not have me pull you down with me? Did you think you could create a monster that never bites? Did you think you could take all I care for, all I love, all I am from me and not make me go insane enough to risk everything, just for a chance to see the life leave your eyes? I will rip your soul apart, even if I have to do the same to mine."

The only reason she didn't spit in his face was that he had already taken enough from her. No more. No more.

She could feel something spreading in her body, and had she paid any attention to it, she might have been able to figure out if it was some form of poison, magic, or whatever else, and she might have realized that her grip was loosening, her power faded, her vision got smaller and smaller.

She might have realized she was losing, and he would try to make her regret this, and there still was pain in her future, but nothing of that mattered.

Everything that mattered, and what would carry her, keep her fighting for a long time to come, was that in just one little moment before her power faded, the surprise in his eyes had turned to fear.

#whump #asphixiation #unconscious #this scene has been rattling around in my brain for days #something something the symbolism of choking the oppressor with the thing still oppressing you #i know this feels kinda different than most of the stuff both in the general tag and also on my blog but uhhhh #feels good i think? #idk let me know if you like stuff like this #like i mentioned in the tags of the first part #i have so many stories featuring these characters #i have basically their whole lofe scripted in my head i would just need to write it down #this is actually one of the last scenes chronologically but i just liked it so much #duochromatic

[yaraneechan]

sooo i cant make a single Shou meta post without going off track, so I made a visual representation showing why, here's most of the Shou meta I have summed up as a mind map

some notes:

1)  ill write the actual meta eventually, in a way thats actually readable

2) probably no one else can follow but if you're gonna try then check warning tags first

3) might as well make the meta meta by headcannoning this as his freckles pattern

#mp100 #mob psycho 100 #suzuki shou #mp100 analysis #mp100 meta #suzuki touichirou #shous mom #mogami keiji #shous lackeys #kageyama shigeo #kageyama ritsu #minegishi toshiki #reigen arataka #plus some more #shou arc makes my brain go brr #queuing this on shou sunday #mp100 manga spoilers #asphixiation #suicide mention #major character death #ask to tag #in case i missed something #mine

[lavienjin]

just sit pretty | jjk & myg

synopsis: jungkook's hands are wandering all over your body while yoongi is asleep on your couch. can you fulfill your desires without waking him up?

p: jungkook x reader x yoongi

wc: 4.1k of gratuitous smut

genre/rating/au: 18+ | threesome, est. rel. au (jjk) | smut, slight crack

warnings: *cracks knuckles* okay, here we go: pwp, reverse cowgirl, idk if this counts as public sex but it’s in front of a sleeping person, exhibitionism, alcohol mention, breast play, cockwarming, unprotected sex, dry humping, dirty talk (jk is kinda mean), thigh job, pussy slapping, name calling :), orgasm delay, fingering, oral (m receiving), clothed sex, hair pulling, throat fucking, handjob, face slapping, breath play (asphixiation), tit slapping, messy sex, there’s a lot of spit?, hand kink, caught having sex... i think that's it

a/n: uhh... happy new years! merry christmas! surprise! to all my yoonkook whores out there, this is my extremely belated chrimbo present to you.

posted: jan 8th, 2022

m. list | ao3

There's really nothing better than cuddling up with your boyfriend while it's heavily snowing outside.

You’re currently wrapped up under the weight of a large white blanket, with your head tucked neatly under Jungkook’s chin as the two of you watch a documentary, the soft glow of the TV washing the room with whites and golds. Your eyelids are heavy, sleep whispering in your ear as you feel both your heartbeats melting into one.

It would have been a picturesque scene, romantic even, if it weren't for the fact that there's a certain older man that's taking all the space on your couch, banishing you and Jungkook to the small recliner in the corner.

For some reason unknown to you, Yoongi insisted on staying over at you and your boyfriend’s shared apartment despite living only a few more minutes down the road. And although you tried sending signals to Jungkook that you don’t want Yoongi in your apartment, your tender-hearted boyfriend doesn’t have the heart to deny the elder's request.

All things considered, the closeness isn’t so bad. The combination of the smell of Jungkook’s aftershave and his long fingers drawing absentminded shapes on your thighs has you sighing contently into his shoulder. Coupled with the large amount of boozy eggnog you consumed at Hoseok’s new year's party, you’re positive you’re slipping towards the best sleep of your life; feeling safe, warm, and secure in his arms.

That is until Jungkook’s hand creeps closer towards the hem of your shorts; the baggy ones you stole from his wardrobe that provides ample space for his large hand to slip into the pant leg. You look up to see if it's a mistake, your heart thrumming a bit quicker in hopes that it isn't. Jungkook stares straight ahead, barely glancing down at you, and you scoot closer to place a small kiss on his neck.

But then he does it again.

This time, when your eyes slide over to his face, Jungkook can't hide the small, mischievous smile. You're about to say something when he silences you with a glance. He juts his chin to the TV, a silent prompt for you to keep your eyes straight ahead.

Even though you're prepared for the next contact, it's hard to keep your moans to yourself when he drags his knuckle over your clothed slit. His finger goes up and down; from your clit to your entrance, and back again. Your body responds to his touch; your spine locking in place as the world blurs around you.

"Jungkook," you whimper faintly.

You spot the tongue prodding on the side of his cheek as his hand stills, head whipping towards the couch.

You follow his gaze to find that Yoongi's still asleep.

Jungkook adjusts your seating so that your back lies flushed against his chest. He dips his head to nip at the shell of your ear before whispering, “Shhh. We don’t want to wake our guest up. Try to be quiet, yeah?”

Your teeth sink into your bottom lip as you nod.

Jungkook lifts the hem of your shirt and pulls the cups of your bra down. He squeezes your tits together as his thumbs circle and roll your hardening nipples. His lips make their way to your neck, just at the base of your hairline, where they attach themselves on the tender skin. Your mind is set aflame at the languid way he paws and fondles your breasts.

Your boyfriend is pretending to be completely oblivious to the torture he’s set. You have to choke back a groan when Jungkook twists your nipples between his forefinger and your thumb, the strike of electricity causing your body to shudder. He repeats the action a few more times, rolling, pinching, tugging, turning you more and more putty in his hands. Jungkook couldn’t care less about the way you squirm. He ignores the way your thighs press together or the way you’re biting back moan after moan as you're left completely at his mercy.

Every few seconds, your eyes trail to the sleeping figure to your right, and when you deem that Yoongi is still spending his time in dreamland, you allow yourself a small mewl of ecstasy.

“Can I make you cum with your tits, babe?” Jungkook whispers into your neck as he licks some of the marks he’s left behind.

“I don’t know… I don’t t-think so?” you respond. Yet when he tugs your nipples with such force that it has your back bending towards his palms, you feel lighting strike your spine, and for the first time that night, you moan loud enough that it causes Jungkook to remove his hand from under your shirt to clamp around your mouth.

After determining that Yoongi is still very much asleep, Jungkook forces his remaining hand underneath the waistband of your shorts and panties, discarding the garments onto the floor.

“What did I fucking say about being too loud, huh? Fucking Christ!” he growls as he thrusts two of his fingers inside until they hit the back of your throat.

Jungkook pinches your clit in punishment, and your back curves at the sharp pain. You can’t moan; can hardly breathe with his thick fingers crowding your mouth. He does it again, much harder than the last before slipping the tip of his pointer finger inside your hole, thrusting shallowly on purpose to miss the sensitive patch of nerves. Your hips try to chase after the lingering sensation, but his muscled forearm holds you in place, and you’re left squirming; helpless as he draws out your suffering.

“If only you listened to me earlier,” he tuts mockingly, giving the shell of your ear another harsh nip.

You whine in disappointment when Jungkook removes his finger from your cunt, but that earns you another harsh pinch, forcing you to swallow the curses that's threatening to bubble up. You're thrashing in his arms, frustrated at the lack of stimuli. You hear the muffled sound of a zipper opening, and Jungkook bucks his hips into your core as he slides his shorts down. Your eyes roll shut when he does it again.

The soft material of his boxers give you ample friction against your nub, and you grind together with his movements, soaking the fabric with your essence.

“That’s it, angel, just like that. Yeah,” Jungkook groans.

He begins to thrust his fingers into your mouth in a rhythm that matches the sway of your hips. The stimulation is driving you crazy, and the fact that Yoongi is right there and could wake up any second fills you with a carnal hunger that only makes you grind harder. Faster.

“Pretty angel. You wish it was my fat cock in your mouth, huh?” He pinches your tongue between his fingers. “Look at you slobbering over my hand… You're such a fucking mess.”

“J-Jungkook…” you whimper through your crowded mouth. “Empty…”

“What’s that, angel? What’s empty? Is it this cunt of yours?” Jungkook cups your core with his large hand, and begins to grind slow circles on your clit with the heel of his palm before tugging his cock out from its confines.

He taps the blunt head of his cock against your core. "Is this what you want?"

Despite having memorized it, you want nothing more than to see Jungkook’s thick length as he slides the head against your puffy lips. You slide your messy cunt over his shaft, and your head rolls back when the tip slips inside. That small burst of euphoria would explode in your brain, but Jungkook has other plans, and he always pulls out before you’re able to plunge him fully inside.

This little game that he’s playing is getting old, but with your mouth still full, you can’t make any requests aside from the short frustrated grunts of air as Jungkook, yet again, slips out from your pulsing walls.

“Eager, aren’t you?” Jungkook chuckles into your ear. “Aren’t you afraid that Yoongi might wake up?” Mercifully, he slips his fingers out of your mouth so you can speak.

“You started this,” you whine.

“And I can stop it too.”

After uttering those words, Jungkook stills completely. When you look back in dismay, he wears a cocky smile, his hands crossed in front of his clothed chest, with an eyebrow raised up in a challenge.

“Sup?” he asks mockingly with a tilt of his chin.

You say nothing as you stare into his eyes, annoyed that he's fucking with your right now. You squeeze your thighs together, surrounding his length with your warmth, but he doesn’t react; that shit-eating grin still plastered on his face.

Looks like you’re going to have to wipe that off yourself.

Keeping your eyes on him as best as you can, you prop your hands on the arms of the chair. Lifting your body slightly, you squeeze and unsqueeze your thighs around his length. The gasp from behind you is all you need to feel triumphant, your lips curving upwards into a victorious smirk. Yet it doesn’t last, because Jungkook, in his immeasurable strength, is able to hold you down and force your legs apart.

“Fine. Here’s the cock you fucking love so much.” He rasps the harsh words in your ear before he lifts you up by the thighs and buries his cock into you in one fluid motion.

Your body shudders at the sudden intrusion; your head lolling backwards onto his shoulder limply.

“So goddamn tight,” he hisses through his teeth. “Don't go passing out on me, you have a job to do.” Jungkook takes hold of your hand and brings it towards your clit. “Rub that pretty pussy for me until you cum.”

Underneath the blanket, you’re beginning to burn, its soft fabric scratchy against your sensitive skin. But you keep it on, afraid to expose your depravity to Yoongi, even if he’s still sound asleep. You glance towards the sleeping figure one more time while you move your fingers with uncertainty.

Is he really asleep? Can't he hear the soft pants that's spilling past your lips?

Jungkook pinches your nipples in warning. "Get on with it, angel."

At first, your fingers shake as you press ight circles on the sensitive nub, but you eventually find a good rhythm; your hips rocking into your palm.

“That’s it baby,” he groans, his eyes rolling back. “I can feel you tightening up for me. It feels so fucking good.”

His own hands return to your tits, although his touch this time is much gentler. When you’re close to the peak, Jungkook demands that you speed up, replacing your fingers with his own as he tips you by the hair so he can watch every hint of bliss on your face.

Jungkook opens his mouth to mimic your own quiet moans. “Oh shit, so tight for me. God, I want to bend you over and fuck you until you scream.” Then he hisses as your walls pulse around him before delivering a spank on your clit. “What the fuck? Is that what you want? Oh, you filthy fucking bitch. Does the thought of being watched turn you on? Fine then,” his hand leaves you to rip the blanket away from your burning figure, “try not to scream.”

With both hands under your thigh, Jungkook pulls you up so that only the tip of his cock remains inside of you before forcing you back down. “Oh, fuuuck!” he groans with careless abandon. He uses your body like a rag doll, moving your hips for you as he sinks repeatedly into your heat.

“Shit… Jungkook…” It’s impossible to keep your voice down with Jungkook spearing inside of you. Your brain has turned to mush – hyperfocusing on just the pleasure between your thighs.

You twist towards Jungkook, catching him on the lips between raspy moans. You’re hot, sweaty, and your thighs are starting to ache, but you continue to chase that bliss like a madwoman, grunting at every drag of him inside.

“I’m close,” you whisper into his mouth.

“Good, fuck, me too,” Jungkook husks. He catches your tongue between your lips and sucks at the tender muscle. "Cum with me, baby. I can't wait to fill you up."

You moan dutifully in his mouth, caught in the dizzying sensation—

“What the fuck?”

You yelp as you scramble away from Jungkook. You pull the blanket off the floor to cover yourself, even though you know it’s too late. Yoongi definitely saw everything, although right now, he seems to find your beige-coloured walls to be suddenly interesting.

The seconds seem to tick by slowly. Ugh. This was precisely why you didn’t want anyone to sleep over in your shared apartment. How the fuck are you going to get out of this mess?

Jungkook has the gall to look sheepish, flashing the older man a cute smile that shows off his dimples. “Sorry, I was horny, and she’s so soft, yknow?”

“You couldn’t have, I don’t know, moved to the bedroom?” Yoongi asks, appalled.

You’re about to apologize to save your modesty when Jungkook scoffs behind you, rolling his eyes. “Oh, come on! This is our apartment, we can fuck wherever and whenever we want.”

Yoongi drags his palm over his beet-red face, still refusing to look at the two of you. “That doesn’t mean the living room where there’s a fucking guest sleeping not even a foot away, asshole!”

“For the record, you’re the one intruding,” you huff.

“Yeah! So, it’s technically your fault,” Jungkook chimes in, and squeezes you against his chest. “Feel free to leave, by the way, the door is that way.”

The silence lingers. Yoongi’s fidgeting; he’s crossing and uncrossing his legs. It's then that you wonder why he hasn't gotten up to leave, but you quickly find your answer when your eyes fall past the black turtleneck that shows off his built chest, and onto his lap.

You're about to say something when Jungkook cuts you off, muttering curtly, “Ugh, whatever. If you don’t mind, I have to give my girlfriend a mindblowing orgasm. You can leave or you can join us.”

“Jungkook!” You and Yoongi shout in unison, but for very different reasons.

He rips the blanket away from you and continues his pace as though Yoongi didn’t just interrupt you and he isn’t now watching you fuck. You’re having a hard time feeling embarrassed, because it’s been replaced with relief. Now, you can moan however loud you want without the risk of waking up another human being.

You slide your eyes towards Yoongi, and to your surprise, you find his eyes already on you. His adam’s apple bob as he swallows thickly. You peel Jungkook’s hand away from your hip, and place his fingers in your mouth. Without breaking eye contact, you coat the digits with your spit, and you groan audibly when Jungkook pushes them further inside.

“Shit.” Yoongi swallows again, still full of hesitancy.

Jungkook responds with a breathy chuckle. “How about you replace my fingers? I don’t think my girl will be satisfied if you don’t join in on the fun.”

You moan in agreement, fluttering your eyelids for added effect.

With an audible groan, Yoongi stands from the couch. On his way to approach you, he strips himself off his pants and boxers, showing off his impressive length. Your mouth salivates at the thought of his cock in your mouth. He's thicker than Jungkook, but not as long. You want to lick the veins that decorate his shaft, all the way down to his balls. Yoongi's cock twitches as you ogle openly, but what comes out of his mouth is–

“A-Are you sure this is cool?”

“Fuck, Yoongi, just stick your dick in her already,” Jungkook groans.

You find this sort of hilarious – how the normally stoic Yoongi can be rendered so speechless. You know better than anyone that your boyfriend has a one-track mind. Right now, Jungkook is hardly paying attention to what's happening because he’s too busy chasing his own high. He couldn't care less whether Yoongi fucks you, but you secretly hope that the older man doesn't just pull up his pants and bail.

Your whine signifies to Jungkook that Yoongi isn't doing anything yet. With a click of his tongue in annoyance, he sits up and pries your mouth open by hooking his fingers into your cheeks, pulling your mouth apart. “Fucking hurry up! She's getting distracted with you just standing there.”

That's all the encouragement Yoongi needs to pull your head down so he can sink himself inside. Your lips are straining to enclose around his shaft, the sheer girth making it almost impossible for you to breathe.

“Okay, baby, you good to continue, right?” Jungkook asks, but he doesn’t wait for your response before he resumes his punishing pace.

Since Yoongi isn’t intent on moving, you grab him by the hips as you match your boyfriend’s rhythm. You take him the best that you could, plunging him past your pillowy lips and down your throat, and you’re rewarded with a loud groan of your name.

Finally, it seems like Yoongi’s letting go of his restraints. He grabs fistfuls of your hair as he pounds your throat.

“How does my favourite fuck toy feel?” Jungkook snickers as he pushes your head onto Yoongi's dick. "Her throat is god-sent, right?"

Yoongi’s completely lost in bliss – his mouth slightly open to pant softly. “Shit – so fucking good.”

“And my baby? Feeling good?” Jungkook asks you as he bends down to kiss your shoulder.

“Mmmh!” you moan around Yoongi’s length in affirmation.

“Gonna need you to be louder, sweetheart,” Jungkook clicks his tongue.

A sharp slap resounds in the air as Jungkook slaps your clit again, and this time, you keen louder, your eyes screwing shut when he soothes the sting with his fingers. “That’s beautiful. God, I can listen to you scream all day. Keep singing for us, angel.”

Without any prior warning, Yoongi strikes you across the cheek. Not hard enough that it hurts, but it does leave you stunned momentarily. “You’re getting distracted. Just because your boyfriend is fucking you, doesn’t mean you can forget who’s controlling your breathing.”

Was this Yoongi’s true colours all along? You can’t say you’re surprised, but it is welcomed for sure. His threat shoots straight down your core, causing you to gush out spurts of liquid onto the upholstery. You tear yourself away from Yoongi’s cock to groan; the long-overdue orgasm is about to crest over you. But the older man tightens his grip on your head to bring you back, and this time, his pretty hand wraps itself around your throat, his thumb pressing on your pulse point.

“You really can’t fucking listen to simple directions, huh? Don’t think you get to cum without us, bitch.” Yoongi growls.

Jungkook chuckles. “That’s what you get for being distracted, angel.” His large hands return to your tits, pinching and twisting the nipples before he delivers a firm slap on your mounds. “Oooh, yes, tighten up more for me… fuck.”

“Mmh!” you cry. You pop Yoongi’s cock out of your mouth to give your jaw a break, your hand replacing your mouth’s movements. With your eyes firmly on his, you lean forward to lick his balls, groaning at the taste that coats your tongue. You give each of them your undivided attention, popping one in your mouth to coat them in spit, all the while bouncing on Jungkook's cock.

“Taste good?” Yoongi chuckles while patting your head. It’s an endearing motion, and you happily nod along, a drunken smile plastered on your face. “Oh, I bet you taste good too. Stick your tongue out, angel.”

You straighten up as best you can, pushing the wet muscle past your lips. Yoongi bends down to grab your face with his large hand, tipping your chin up so he has better access to your face. He clamps his lips around your tongue and sucks, a heady groan sounding in the back of his throat.

“Oi, keep shaking your ass, baby. Don’t forget who’s making you cum tonight,” Jungkook grunts. He digs his fingers into your ass to remind you, as though it’s easy for you to forget the large cock that’s spearing inside of you.

You giggle, parting from Yoongi's lips to resume jacking him off, while you turn back to face your boyfriend. “Aww, don’t tell me you’re jealous over a little kiss. You know I only love you.” You punctuate your words by clenching your walls, earning you a loud, throaty moan from the raven-haired boy.

“You say that, but you look so happy when I fuck your throat. I would argue that you just love cocks,” Yoongi sneers, maneuvering you to face him again. You open your mouth obediently when the tip of his cock taps your lips. When he sinks in, he hisses, though there’s a satisfied smirk on his face when your eyes fill with tears. “God… if only you could see yourself right now.”

You hum in satisfaction at the compliment. It’s a miracle enough to have one very attractive man fucking you… but two? You’re in euphoria; tuned into your deepest, most carnal desires. You let both men use you to their satisfaction, and it isn’t long before both their thrusts become erratic, hips stuttering as their high reaches its peak.

Sweat slicks your back as you chase after your own elusive ember. Twice now you’ve gone to the brink of bliss, only to be pulled away. If it happens again, you’re not sure you’d stay sane. With determination, you slam your hips on Jungkook’s cock, and your hand comes up to help stroke Yoongi along until both men are left panting and groaning.

“Shiiit, fuck!” Jungkook swears, tightening his grip on your hips as he matches your rhythm. He snakes his hand in between your legs, rubbing your forgotten clit to aid you along.

“Eager to be painted in cum, aren’t you?” Yoongi’s breathless – his words coming out laboured as his hips stutter. “Fuck – ah… Swallow it all, baby. I wanna see you drink me in.”

Yoongi plunges deep into your throat, holding your head with his large hand as you choke around him. You can hardly breathe with your nose pressed into his dark curls, and you squeeze your eyes shut as the world spins due to the lack of oxygen.

“Fuck –“ he manages to utter as you’re forced to swallow his seed. When he finishes emptying himself inside of you, you open your mouth wide to show him your efforts.

"Good girl," Yoongi praises, pressing his lips on the tops of your head. "Now you can focus on getting your boyfriend to cum."

As Yoongi collapses on the floor, you bring your attention to Jungkook. You clench your walls so they constrict around him – milking him until he comes undone with a loud groan, body shaking as he paints your insides in white.

“Oh my god, baby, I’m cumming. I’m gonna fuck you full of my cum—ahhh…” Jungkook grunts, driving his cock deep into your pussy.

It's the edge you need to crumble into pleasure. Your body burns white hot; stars dancing across your vision. "C-Cumming!" you yelp, and you too, shiver with pleasure, spine locking up and toes curling while the waves slam against your battered body.

“Shit – Jungkook, Jungkook… fuck… no more. No more!” you wail when your boyfriend keeps thrusting inside. You’re sweaty and sore, used past the point where you can no longer feel your legs.

You collapse back onto Jungkook’s chest, your boyfriend whispering sweet nothings into your lips as he kisses you languidly. His softening cock slips out of you, bringing with it a glob of your mixed juices that drip onto his leg, but Jungkook doesn’t seem to care, too focused on basking in the glow of an orgasm.

Yoongi’s faring no better. His legs can't seem to support his weight. So he lies sprawled on the floor, breathing hard with an arm draped over his eyes.

“I just want to say, this was not what I had in mind when I asked if I could crash at your place tonight,” Yoongi says as he huffs out a chuckle.

“To be fair,” you murmur, sitting up to grab a few tissues from the small table next to you. “Jungkook started it.”

“Yeah,” your boyfriend laughs as he wraps his arms around you. Jungkook pecks at your cheek before settling his head on your shoulder. “And you get to reap the benefits too. We did all the hard work while you sat there and looked pretty.”

You kiss Jungkook’s temple with a smile, just above his piercing. “How about next time I do all the work while you boys lie down?”

Yoongi perks up at this, sitting up to gape at you. “There’s a next time?”

Two pairs of eager eyes stare at you as you stand to stretch out the cramps from sitting too long. With a sly grin at the two of them, you wink, "Only if I get to 'just sit there and look pretty'."

moon's notes: i spent a total of 1 whole day writing this entire thing. so i'm slightly delirious right now. my inspiration? comes from the fact that i was thinking about cockwarming while watching a movie and all of a sudden yoongi came along???????? i don't know. i have no excuse to write this sordid fic full of filth, but i do hope you enjoyed reading it c:

#bts imagines #bts scenarios #yoongi x reader #yoongi ff #suga ff #yoongi fics #yoongi scenarios #jungkook scenarios #suga fics #btswritingcafe #bangtanbathhouse #jungkook fics #yoonkook x reader #btscreatorscorner #jungkook x reader #yoongi smut #jungkook smut #jungkook ff #bangtaninn #bangtanhoneyhive #btsdreamcourt #possumswrite #yoongi imagines #jungkook imagines

[sum-vulpes]

Inspirational ponies remind you that no one is perfect and that you’re free to chose what to do with your life

#suicide #depression #mental disorder #mental ill health #my little pony #pony #ponies #traditional art #artists on tumblr #asphixiation #blood #gore #suffer #mention self harm #self harm #trigger #suicide trigger #mood #gore pony #antro #furry #suffocation #mlp

[sometimesrosy]

the finale was actually not bad. just badly executed. i have always believed that you can make your characters do anything as long as you write their journey of getting there believably. I don't mind the finale, mostly because how much worse it could have been. I can fill in the gaps (like bellamy WAS at the beach and you can't convince me otherwise) and I can fix the writing in my head and through fics. Thank you, btw, for making this journey so enjoyable :)

No I thought it was both bad and badly executed. 

I cannot get over the vilification of Clarke Griffin by the story that walked us through every trauma, every pain, every breakdown, every recovery, every sacrifice, every lost love, every moment when she bore it all to take care of her people,

only to have her be the villain who did NOT deserve reward, when all these assholes who kept turning to violence and kidnapping and mindless sheeplike following got to transcend to a higher plane?

I mean. “And they lived happily ever after?” not really.

They were neutered because humanity was dead. That was a dead branch. WE are a dead branch and all that pain and suffering was worth NOTHING.

They could have let everyone asphixiate on the ark and humanity would have either struggled through on earth or died the same way they did in the finale.

I don’t believe this transcendence was better than just struggling to continue on.

It is a TERRIBLE ending with a TERRIBLE concept of humanity, heroes, struggle, healing.

There WAS NO REBIRTH.

It was a deus ex machina so no one had to do the work anymore of actually BEING good.

THE WORST.

AND they subsittuted that glowy light and purple stars for actual wisdom, good feeling, growth, deserving.

This was a complete and utter narrative failure for me. 

The things that people are saying are good? like L return? That’s not her. She’s fake. They’re just playing shipwars. They erased bellamy and plopped fake lxa in there to tell bellarke fans fuck you. Which is SUCH bad storytelling. 

What’s the opposite of fanservice? What kind of writer tells a story JUST to spite their audience? 

I can’t. failure. not good finale. 

cheap and bitter and vengeful and the worst concept of post apocalyptic resolution. Not rebirth. Not hope for humanity. Not love is what matters. Not the suffering makes you stronger. Not keep on trying. Not learn from our lessons. 

Hell, it’s not even “humanity sucks we’re all doomed.”

It’s oh everything WE do to do better is pointless because WE aren’t perfect and respond like humans to people hurting us. So THEY who I don’t talk to can “ascend” but WE deserve to suffer for trying to be better.

Not to mention we’ve got some sort of god/aliens making all the decisions for us. We didn’t ask to be transcended. We didn’t want this. We wanted to live and struggle and learn with our families. But you just erase our desire because you’re the boss? Who made you boss of us? 

Not to mention the neutering of clarke and her family later. I GUESS you can have peace, but you’re not good enough to have lives or children or futures, so when you die, your legacy will be dust. As Selena said. That’s eugenics. 

WHAT THE FUCK WAS THIS MESS? 

Narratively, and philosophically, and frankly visually, it was bad. 

[angelic-serenade]

✧༝┉┉┉┉┉˚*❋ ❋ ❋*˚┉┉┉┉┉༝✧

request: 🌟 Hellou!! I love ur work!! ❤️❤️❤️ Is it possible tó ha e a Alastor and younger(like 4 years younger) reader who have nightmares of his death sonetimes, cause she saw itt Back then, and go to big bother Alastor for comfort? 🦌

requested by: anon

a/n: okay so this was supposed to be a quick one-shot but my hand slipped and I wrote 9500+ words instead. oops. anyway, I hope this meets your expectations, enjoy!

gif, original work and characters do not belong to me

pairing: Alastor x sister! reader

fandom: Hazbin Hotel

warnings: mentions of death, bit of angst, traumatic events, toxic relationship if you squint, Alastor being Alastor but softer for reader

✧༝┉┉┉┉┉˚*❋ ❋ ❋*˚┉┉┉┉┉༝✧

It never rained down in Hell, no matter how ardently you had sometimes wished to feel the drops pouring down your robes. Even during your longest nights, the ones haunted by nightmares and long-forgotten memories resurfacing at your weakest, it would never rain like it did in those Gothic Novels your darling brother used to read you back in the day: you were no virtuous protagonist and never would the skies cry for your misery. It was probably one of the worst downsides of being stuck in Hell for all eternity: the equally eternal blood red sky forever looming over your head, serving as a reminder of your infernal punishment.

When you'd wake up in the middle of the night, after a particularly vivid nightmare, there was no pouring rain to muffle the sound of your hopeless wailings, no thunder to distract your spinning mind from its panic. Therefore, you found yourself continously seeking comfort from the only person you held dear to your now dead cold heart: Alastor, The Radio Demon, whom you had the privilege to refer to as your darling brother (at least in the privacy of your own bedchamber) - older brother to be precise, even if only by a few years. You had always been extremely fond of your sibiling, looking up to him as a role model - definitely not your wisest decision since it had landed you among the sinners of Hell. That's not to say you had any regrets, Heaven seemed like an awfully dreadful and boring place if you were to be completely honest.

Alastor, on his part, had affectionately doted on you back on the surface, taking his little sweetling under his protective wing as if his sole purpose in life had been to take care of you. As a consequence, on more occasions than you cared to remember, you had felt utterly asphixiated by your brother's undivided attention all your life, and quarrels had been a daily occurrence whenever his protective behavior clashed with your own desire for freedom. Your lovely mother had always been there to try and defuse your heated altercations, the poor woman; your dear brother and you, however, both shared the same stubbornness and desire to prevail on others, so that whenever your strong personalities came to oppose, trouble was always certain to follow suit.

You wished you'd appreciated his concerns more when you had been given the chance. Now in the afterlife, shows of affection were hard to come by. Mayhap that had been the worst punishment inflicted upon you after death: the privilege of having your dear brother by your side without actually being able to cherish and bask in his caring regards. Mayhap the illustrious Dante had been right in his musings all along: the law of retaliation had taken away from you the one thing you had never really appreciated in life, making you realize just how much you had taken for granted. Now that your brother had become Hell's greatest menace, an overlord to make things worse, weakness in any shape or form could and would not be tolerated under any circumstance, for both his and your sake.

Luckily, no demon in the seven circles suspected that the feared Radio Demon had any siblings to begin with, thanks to Alastor's foresight.

Your identity was to be kept secret at all costs in order to avoid undesired repercussions. If anyone were to even suspect you had any kind of connection to the Radio Demon - Alastor had told you - overlords and lesser demons alike would be at your throat in the span of a heartbeat. If given the chance, no enemy of his would ever hesitate to stoop as low as to attack him were it hurt the most, where he was most vulnerable. And that chance, he was not willing to give any time soon. You both had already died once and you were not keen on repeating the experience.

So you had followed his every order ever since your fall into the pits, leading a life death away from your darling brother and his chaotic ways - the one thing he hadn't been able to prevent in life -, keeping a low profile as a common denizen of Hell. Alastor would unsuspiciously check up on you every now and then, but his visits had been as rare as it was to see an angel in Hell - seeing him once a year was truly an unfair torture. Time went by and you grew more and more lonely as you mostly kept to yourself and wasted your days away in a nice apartment away from prying eyes. You were a nobody in Hell, and that was how things were meant to be.

Things changed when Alastor unexpectedly showed up at your doorstep for the second time in a year, blabbering about the newest project he'd involved himself with. His words betrayed unusual enthusiasm, a mood you had learned to be usually spurred on by the prospect of carnage and bloodshed or his precious radio broadcasts. Whenever he came to see you, he always showered you in gifts and praise, but it had been centuries since you had seen your brother so excited over... anything, really. Therefore, witnessing his cheeriness brought a genuine smile on your face. You were a little jealous you weren't the reason why he felt so giddy, but you couldn't complain as spending time with him was the greatest gift you could ever ask for these days. So when he told you you'd be moving into this phantomatic Hazbin Hotel, where he'd be staying for a while as well, you were impossibly ecstatic. Alastor had gently caressed your cheek and, in one of his rare moments of tenderness, softened his voice as if to lull you away:

“My dear, it has always pained me so to leave you here to your lonesome, but I am certain you understand that I always ever meant to protect you from harm.”

Unexpectedly, as most of his actions were, your dear brother spun you around into his arms as if he were coaxing you into a dance - which would probably be the case, knowing him. His words were impossibly haughty now, as if a switch had gone off in his mind:

“But now sweetling, now the time has come to finally put an end to this painful arrangement. You'll be joining me at this whimsical Hazbin Hotel our dear princess is so enthusiastic about!”

You knew better than to question Alastor and his ways, so you simply nodded your approval, glad to finally be able to leave that god forsaken apartment you had been locked in for far more than you cared to admit. And so you moved to the hotel - still keeping your true identity a secret, mind you. You were introduced as one of Alastor's acquantances, much like both Niffty and Husk were. Nobody questioned your unexpected presence and Charlie (much more than everybody else) welcomed you with opened arms into her precious hotel. When you offered to lend a hand with whatever she needed, she was utterly ecstatic. All in all, you were quick to adapt to the new situation.

The new accommodation, however, brought about quite a lot of new issues as well.

Spending so much time with Astor, for one, even if pretending not to be as close as siblings should be, awakened long forgotten memories about your life on Earth, most of which you would have preferred to keep locked away. During your very busy days, you were able to distract yourself from your scattered thoughts and memories; at night, however, your subconscious relentlessly haunted you in the form of nightmares and there was nothing you could really do to prevent it.

It was inevitable that you'd start losing sleep, as the only way to evade the cage that your mind had become was not to sleep at all. Astor had grown increasingly worried about your sleep-deprived state, even if he tried not to show it, masking his concern with his usual smile and charming talks:

“You will chase away any potential patrons looking so disheveled and shabby, my dear. Charlie will surely be heartbroken.”

You wouldn't have put it past him to manipulate you through guilt, but you knew that Alastor was truly worried about your health. His gaze, cryptic to most, felt all too familiar to you, just like the expressiveness of his smile held no secrets from you anymore. Needless to say, as fond of him as you were, you tried to sleep once again.

Then one night everything changed: it had been the worst night of your undead life, and the best one too.

The deafening sound of gunshots had echoed through your unconscious mind, increasingly loud footsteps and dogs barking so loud that you subconsciously jerked in your sleep. A call to your name, desperate, hopeless and scared. You saw him, his beautiful maroon eyes that had once only pooled in fondness for you, now dark and miserable. But they held promise too, a promise to fulfill maybe someday, in another life.

“I'm sorry (Y/N)”

His smile had dropped.

So had you.

You woke up screaming, trashing about in your bed. Sweat clung to your brow, your mind in a frenzied panic searched for something concrete and real to cling to. Was your brother alright? Satan, you hoped so. He had to be, he couldn't leave you again, you had to go to him, to see him, you didn't want to lose him again, you wouldn't bear the pain - you almost tripped in the bedsheets as you scrambled to the door.

When you arrived to Alastor's door, you had yet to calm down. You rapidly knocked on the hard wood, agitation evident in both your jerky movements and shivering hands.

“Alastor, Alastor, please. Open up. It's me” you desperately whispered.

As the door gently opened, your brother stepped into the darkness of the hallway and you unceremoniously flung yourself to him, clinging to his neck as if it were your lifeline. Your tears wet his robes, but you couldn't bring yourself to care enough to apologize. You felt like you had almost lost him again after all those years of seclusion.

But he was alive and he was with you. That's all you could hope for and far more than you thought you deserved.

Alastor uncharacteristically started to pat your head, as if trying to console you even though he had little to no experience in that area. His movements were uncertain, but as you lifted your head from his chest to gaze into his eyes, you realized no words would ever convey as much affection as Alastor's eyes did in that brief moment. His smile never faltered - even if it had become a bit strained - but you hadn't expected it to. It made you smile through your tears, despite yourself. You realized in that moment you'll forever be the only one allowed to touch Alastor without eliciting his wrath. That fact alone enough for you to truly appreciate the amount of control he'd give up in order to comfort you. He gently brought you to his bed and sat you down next to him.

“Are you quite alright sister dear? You know, those awful tears don't suit you at all! I rather much prefer your blinding smile!”

You smiled wider this time, for him, to let him know that you were indeed grateful.

“Oh, now that wasn't so difficult, was it?”

When he kissed your forehead, you almost broke up crying once again: it had been so long since you and your brother had been so close. The gesture warmed your long dead heart and you tried to return the favor by kissing his cheek. Nobody had ever been that intimate with the Radio Demon and lived to tell the tale, but in that moment he was no demon of hell: he was just Alastor, your dear brother who had doted on you in life and kept protecting you in death too - even though his ways weren't the most orthodox.

“I missed you Al. Please, don't ever leave me again.”

“I most certainly shall not, my sweet little darling. It's a promise.”

You were glad he let you stay with him for the rest of the night. No words were needed as he brought you close and took your hands into his. You both laid on the bed, in a rare moment of peace and quiet. It reminded you of your childhood on Earth and how you'd always sneak out of your room during the night to sleep next to him - you had always been afraid of the dark after all. Only in your adulthood had you learned that there are worse things than darkness one should fear.

After eons of suffering and terrible loneliness, everything finally fell into its rightful place.

Alastor was safe and so were you.

That was all that mattered.

#hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin alastor #hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel fic #hazbin hotel imagine #alastor x reader #alastor x you #alastor fluff #hazbin hotel alastor #alastor headcanons #fandoms #fandom imagine #angst #gif #request #reader #reader insert #charlie #love #platonic #hazbin oc #hazbin hotel headcanon #hazbin charlie #oneshot #fandom prompts #fandom imagines #imagine #alastor imagine #fluff #toxic relationship

[useless-catalanfacts]

Im not trying to be offensive but do you really think independence is what’s best? I understand the police brutality is unacceptable but can Catalonia really survive on its own? A complete separate country? If this happens that means that FC Barcelona can no longer play in La Liga and it would have to build a league of its own. I know some people don’t care about that part but I think it’s worth mentioning

No offense taken on your question or on your having a different opinion, of course, but I hope you realise that the last part is very offensive (the considering the fact that foreign people can watch a football match twice a year more important than a whole country not having rights). I don’t take offense because I know you didn’t mean it and it’s probably something that bothers you as a football fan, but please do not say this. It feels horrible to see people care more about watching a match that if your friends and family are in jail for nothing (I personally know people in, so yeah).

Also, Andorra FC, a team that is obviously from Andorra, and not from Spain, participates in La Liga. So it isn’t closed to Spain necessarily.

Catalonia can survive without Spain. Any economical study shows that Catalonia would be much richer without all the colonial taxes we have to pay to Spain. But we are not doing this to be richer. In fact, it was said as part of negociations that Catalonia offered to pay compensations to Spain for a long time.

And this is not to say Catalans are rich. Not at all. Catalonia as a land is richer than most Spain because there are businesses and some rich people with make the stats get higher, but the people as a whole are not richer than Spaniards at all. And because of the taxes we have to pay for being Catalan that never come back, we are even poorer. For example, we don’t have a good public transport system, new highways we need, etc because Spain doesn’t want to invert money here. Meanwhile in Madrid and Andalucía some highways and trains are expensive to maintain while nobody passes there ever because they already have so many highways that some are just not needed at all.

Or how we have to pay about 2000€ per year (sometimes even more) to be in a public university while in other places like Andalucía it’s free with our taxes. We don’t complain that it’s free (it should be free for everyone), but we say that the decision on wether you get something for free or not should not depend on “are you from Catalonia or from x place” but on your socioeconomic background. A rich person in Andalucía gets free university with our taxes. A poor person in Catalonia cannot go to university because we don’t have enough scholarships. We have no problem with sending money to someone who needs it in Andalucía, or Syria or Palestine or Mexico or wherever. What we say is that “because you’re from Catalonia” should not be the reason for people to not get things, and that when it comes to inside a State there should be a distribution of aid to people who need it based on how much they need it.

So yes, economically we would be very well without Spain. In fact, so well that Spanish media uses this to pretend we only want independence for the money we would get.

And no country is “completely separate on its own”, especially not in Europe. And obviously we want to be part of the European Union, though we know Spain would veto us, there’s legal ways that can be tried to go around that. And with the economic power that is Barcelona, it’s for the interest of all Western Europe that we would be part of the EU.

The police brutality is not the problem alone. The problems are so many that it feels asphixiating to be under Spanish rule. At this point, we have to do this for our mental health’s sake.

As I’ve mentioned before in this blog, my mother is a teacher. She teaches Catalan language in the adults’ school. Fascists call her on her job’s phone to insult her and threaten her for teaching Catalan. They don’t even know her political views (which she never mentions in class and at her job there are obviously no symbols or anything, she just teaches the language). The adults’ school of Catalan language in the city next to mine had to be evacuated because some fascists threw gas bombs in it (here is a link to the local newspaper reporting on it).

And it’s worse for others. I have some family friends who have a printing place and anothers who work in a bookshop in our town, and they’re known independentists. Besides the constant threats over phone, their workplaces keep getting vandalized with spray-paintings of swastikas and white supremacy crosses and fascist slogans.

When my aunt hang the independence flag from her balcony, some days later someone prayed swastikas around our quarter. They sprayed one on the door of my grandmother’s house (she lives in the ground floor and my aunt lives on the 1st floor). My grandmother’s father was killed in the gas chamber of the Mauthausen extermination camp. Believe me when I say this “paintings” have a direct effect on people, even if “just” emotional.

But Spanish law doesn’t do anything to protect people who are victims of this. It didn’t even jail neonazis who murdered people for being Valencian Catalan independentists like Guillem Agulló. The police force, the juridical system and the State as a whole constantly give their support to neonazis.

We want independence from Spain because we have a different project. Spain is anchored on its fascist past (remember that Spain was a fascist dictatorship from 1939 to 1978, until the present “democratic” Constitution was written by the fascists). In Catalonia we have so many ideas, but we cannot do them because Spains blocks us always.

We want to do things differently. The Catalan government wanted to let refugees come, and Spain didn’t let us. There was also a plan to combat climate change and by 2022 rely only on renewable energy, Spaind didn’t let us either. They also didn’t let us pass the law to end the gender pay gap. Nor the laws for “historical memory” (what we call rememberance of the crimes of fascism). Nor the law to stop evictions. Nor protection for Aranese (a minority language). Nor help to migrants. Nor the numerous attempts at a law so that companies can’t cut water and light to poor families who can’t pay. Nor many more. (A while ago I talked about some of those, check it out in this post).

When people put their bodies in front of police knowing what they’re capable of, we do it because living under Spanish rule is so unbearable that we are willing to risk it. Just the thought of continuing to live like this is depressing.

So not only can Catalonia live without Spanish rule (it’s not like they are helping us in any way, we don’t rely on them for anything), but we can do so much better than now because we are a more progressive country with initiative to do something about problems.

Now, to the part about football…

Iberian people are crazy for football. Including us Catalans, and including Spaniards. You can take away their rights and most won’t do anything about it, but touch their football and they will riot. That’s why I don’t have any doubt that they will find a solution.

Besides the fact that Barça and Madrid would play matches every year nonetheless in the European league, as I said before Andorran teams can take part in La Liga. This is not even an issue because football is such an important thing in the Iberian Peninsula, and especially in the economic sense, that it would be solved without any problem, because everyone wants Real Madrid and Barça to have more matches. My guess is that they would make La Liga an Iberian league, maybe Portuguese teams could come too.

If you care about football, respect what Barça has historically meant to us. During the dictatorship, when being Catalan was illegal, Barça was the only way Catalan people had to express themselves. That’s why dictator Franco forced it to lose on purpose matches against Real Madrid. That’s why Barça is “més que un club”. Please respect that.

#sorry i went a bit on a tangent #but i think people who don't live this situation don't realise how strong it is and how different it could be #independence is not a caprice it's a real life decision for real life reasons #ask #liftlower

[mynameiswren]

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Original Trilogy Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Luke Skywalker & Darth Vader, Firmus Piett & Luke Skywalker, Luke Skywalker & Maximilian Veers, Basically Luke Skywalker & Everybody On Board The Lady, Including The Droids Characters: Luke Skywalker, Anakin Skywalker | Darth Vader, Darth Vader, Firmus Piett, Maximilian Veers, Kendal Ozzel, (fuck that guy), Stormtrooper Character(s), 501st Legion (Star Wars), mouse droids, The Lady (Star Wars) Additional Tags: Luke Skywalker Gets Brought Aboard The Lady And Brings All The Sunshine With Him AU, No One Can Resist The Sunshine, Engineer Luke Skywalker, (who doesn't know about The Force yet), Dad Vader, (who doesn't know he's A Dad yet), (doesn't stop him from acting like one tho), Tired Firmus Piett, (who very much DOES know he's Tired™), In This House We Stan Luke Skywalker, His Nuclear Trashfire Dad, And We Dunk On Ozzel, (no seriously fuck that guy), Mentions of Death, mentions of executions, Mentions Of Asphixiation, (this IS Darth Vader we're talking about), (but he's getting better), (Luke will drag his Dad back to the Light come hell or high water), (and reform the Empire while he's at it), BAMF Luke Skywalker, Father-Son Relationship, (Even if they don't realize it), Found Family Summary:

This is an AU of loosingletters' The Background Noise Of Defiance verse

Instead of Luke inadvertently revealing to his anonymous holonet friend that his last name is Skywalker, thus revealing himself as the son of said holonet friend (yes, Darth Vader has a Space Twitter), he keeps mum and instead takes on Vader's job offer, becoming the new Head Engineer aboard the Executor, alias, the Lady. While he's thrilled to be there, thriving on getting to improve the lackluster hardware that gets shunted onto the rank-and-file of the Empire and building up a rapport with the mysterious Sith Lord who is fast becoming the father figure he never had, not everyone aboard is as happy about the young engineer shaking up the previously well-cemented hierarchy of the Lady.

But ask Luke and Vader if they care. All Piett knows is that this is gonna be one hell of a headache and way above his paygrade. At least he gets to see his boss be put in his place by a teenage engineer and Lord Vader himself.

#sw: for fun and profit #wren's fic recs #star wars fanfiction

[tenebriiis-archived]

❝ Your intriguing appearance is beyond me Deceiver. Have we really met before ? Or have I been dreaming of you for all this time ? This burning question has been haunting me for YEARS now ! ❞ he's so confused...

[ ♦ ]

The Sorceress took a moment to regard at the Yordle with care. It’s unusual to hear someone straightly call her Deceiver, but she doesn’t mind. Have he heard of the reputation of the Rose perhaps? Tilting her head ever-so slightly, she approaches just a couple of steps closer but still maintaining a respectful distance.

“We may have met before perhaps, Master of Evil. I have been around for a very…very long time.” She could remember each horrible night and asphixiating day beneath the terrifying Iron Revenant’s reign, but thought the most wise would be not to be direct on the mention just yet. “I used to be once part of a Coven of Sorceresses, we were bound to serve under a Conqueror.” The luminous butterflies ever making her company were dancing close. Her familiars were deeply curious of Veigar too. He was an echo of her past, one piece she had missed truly.

“Years you say… what memories you seem to dream, my Dear?”

@villainxsm

#villainxsm #poor confused yordle > ; w ; )>

[elbiotipo]

Thoughts on fernández?

Which one? I think you mean Alberto.

I was a kid (sort of) when he was in the Néstor Kirchner government, so I didn’t pay much attention back then. His recent return to politics was surprising, and I took my time to study him.

I think he’s a coherent, skilled man. Coherent in the sense that he takes good decisions, and skilled in the sense that he knows how to execute them. When you read about his time in the Kirchner presidency, you can notice that. Facing the FMI and the economic crisis at the time was not easy task and he was up to it. That also proves he has the experience to be a president.

Cristina sold him as a conciliatory figure, which in part is true, because the current reconciliation of Peronism (I don’t expect it to last, but it’s good enough to win elections and guarantee governability) proves it. However, he is also a man who gets angry easily. Honestly, I don’t mind that all that much, as long as he targets that anger towards defending his policies and the interests of the nation, instead of inside fights.

And I can’t really get mad with the guy who called Espert “Pajert” (back when neither were candidates, mind you).

Some are worried he would be authoritarian. I disagree. Most people think authoritarians come about slowly with no warning signs: as both history and current events have taught me (Trump, Maduro, Bolsonaro), authoritarians OPENLY say what they are going to do, they are unmistakeable. Alberto is forceful and blunt sometimes (again, I think it’s not bad), but always within a political, democratic posture. I don’t think he has the hallmarks of an authoritarian leader.

I don’t think he’s flawless, sure. If you dig deep enough you can find dirt on him. But in Argentina, a clean politician is an unicorn. Certainly I prefer a man such as him who has been out of politics for a while and comes with a refreshing mind.

Now, that’s his personality. What about his policies? Well, he already said that the worst policies of Cristina, like the cepo, the INDEC flaws, thoughtless interventionism and others won’t come back. That’s what he says; it’s your perogative to believe it or not. But his policies are mostly economic: first dismantling the high interest ratings that are asphixiating industry and investment. Also taking measures to reactivate internal consumption, the main engine of the Argentine economy. And renegotiating with the FMI, an imperious need, because they currently have a chokehold on our economy, and we need to renegotiate and free ourselves from it. (again)

And of course, he is the only candidate that has openly and energically defended Argentine science and public education. If only for my personal needs, he’s my choice.

I think foreign investors and “The Market” are already trusting him, and that will help a lot too. He is a lot more moderate that most people think it is (then again, Cristina’s economy was a lot more moderate than people think too)

If anything, my concern is that he is being TOO moderate. Argentina has an overdependence on the financial system. Our periodical crisis leave us poorer and depedent on foreign powers. The rich landowners still have a tremendous influence on the Argentine economy and politics, and are doing too much harm to the enviroment (not to mention human lives). Alberto and Cristina right now are focused on bringing a good quality of life, and they even defend a, grantedly, fairer capitalism. But we need to go beyond that, we need to reform into a popular, democratic economy. A fair, democratic, free and prosperous socialist society.

But, one step at the time. People need to eat, learn, and lead decent lives first. We need tranquility and continued progress, not random neoliberals starting financial crisis every decade.

Anyways, many people vote for Alberto because they hate Macri, and GOD THAT IS SO VALID. But I vote for him because I truly believe he’s the best candidate around. And it’s difficult to trust politicians in Argentina, but I’m willing to take my risks.

#política

[rimurutempest-bounced]

major warning for drugs, child death, animal death, gore, and suicide in the haunting of hill house

there are jumpscares as well here and there

specific warnings under the cut

i can't give warnings for exact episodes and times, sorry

drugs:

•heroin, marijuana, acid

•needles, including actual graphic injection, shown on screen

•withdrawal symptoms and relapse

•overdose

•death, though not from one of the drugs listed, a needle is involved

child death:

•graphic depiction of a child being poisoned, foaming at the mouth, and asphixiating

•still birth mentioned

animal death:

•kittens (not really gory, but a beetle crawls out of one's mouth after it dies)

gore:

•various ghosts that look akin to rotting zombies

•graphic depictions of embalming and preparing bodies for open casket funerals, including showing inside chest cavity and stitching a scalp back together

•broken neck from hanging

•head trauma, broken skull

•mummified corpse

•at one point someone's eyes melt out of their skull

•gore involving pregnancy with a rapidly swelling stomach

suicide:

•by hanging

•by jumping

•pill overdose

please be safe. i apologise if i missed anything.

EDIT:

•RAPE OF A CHILD (off screen but revealed in a very upsetting way)

#the haunting of hill house #netflix #hill house #horror #trigger warnings #feel free to boost