#there’s really no reason why this exists I jus thought

[kyurochurro]

shore leave on the mind bec its such a wacky episode 😭 SO here’s a fun spirk drawing cus they were all over the place in this one GHDJBSJKSBJ

(also feat. a small angry bones appearance :D)

#churro art #my art #digital art #fanart #illustration #star trek #star trek tos #star trek the original series #james kirk #james t kirk #spock #s'chn t'gai spock #spirk #leonard mccoy #bones mccoy #THIS ONE IS SO SILLYYYYY GEHEHE #there’s really no reason why this exists I jus thought #this episode is so funny when it’s just the two of them #and Kirk is just holding on to Spock For Dear life 😭😭 #I guess it’s like the scooby do gag where shaggy and scooby run away like this too #LMAO idk Spock to me is just a big cat :3 #BUT I LOVE HOW THIS ONE CAME OUT HEHE ITS SO FUNY #anyways fonallyyyy finished midterms god I’m gonna go get crunk now. BYEEEE

[hazelfoureyes]

⟢Alastor x Cupid FemReader Tasked with making a demon believe in true love or you can’t return to heaven, things immediately go off the rails when you hurt yourself and Alastor catches one of your most troubling arrows; Mania

˚₊ · »-♡→ Week 1 and Week 2

˚₊ · »-♡→Week 3 and Week 4 smut💦 (keep reading)

Alastor lets you leave the hotel! Together! For soup. Later, your plans to make Alastor lose his obsession backfire. But like, in a hot way so you’re not that mad about it. A+ for effort?

˚₊ · »-♡→Week 5, Week 6, Week 7, and Epilogue smut💦

「warnings/promises: smut, I once again misuse a fucking prayer in a sacrilegious way, soup, spoon feeding, Angel texts, so much cum, bondage, tentacles, just good ole fashion fucking in the radio station, not quite dubcon but Alastor doesn’t really listen, hell has twitter and lets be real it’s just normal twitter, giant Alastor, Horse Luci」

Minors DNI ♥️ 🧹lovingly

You finally managed to leave the hotel. It was of course with Alastor at your side, microphone pressing into the small of your back like a third arm. It was as if he worried you’d just turn around and run.

He opened every door, pulled out your chair, and when your left hand shook and dropped your food he took on the task of feeding you. It was embarrassing, to say the very least. The sinners in the restaurant staring, a brave few filming or typing furiously on their phones.

You got a buzz on your own cell, a gift from Angel when he realized Alastor wouldn’t let you speak with others alone. 

He texted a link to a post on some hell site, to a photo of you right then, at that exact moment, being spoon fed by the radio demon. You considered smashing your head into the table until you blacked out. If you got up and left would you make it back to the hotel before someone realized you weren’t a sinner? You were absolutely terrified of someone noticing you as heaven sent.

Heaven kicked? Heaven thrown. Yeah that one felt right.

“You need to eat. You can’t heal like this.” Alastor sounded concerned, but you fought the urge to care. 

He hadn’t apologized to Husk, but Husk did say Alastor seemed to avoid eye contact which was basically a gift to him. Alastor had come to your room to dress you the next day as he always did, neither of you mentioning the day before. The hall was magically pristine by the time you left.

A tiny sliver of you thought he felt embarrassed. But decades of experience told you that Mania didn’t afford embarrassment, the stricken couldn’t be truly manic if something like that was holding them back.

Maybe it had been such a shallow cut he hadn’t gotten the full punch of Mania?

Another attempt to feed yourself, slowly bringing your spoon to your mouth, “You know when I heal I am going to finish my task and leave, right?” 

An odd laugh, a non-existent tear wiped away, “Adorable. No. I promise you, that won’t happen.”

“Alastor.” You put the spoon down with a clink.

“I love when you say my name. May I offer you more reasons to hold it in your mouth?”

“Al-,” you groaned, “I can’t stay forever.”

He hummed, a show of pretending to think about what you said, “Wrong! You can. And I argue, you will.”

You tried again with the spoon, regretting soup. Your appetite had been shot for awhile and it seemed easy enough. Wrong. Again. There was a constant tremble to your hands since arriving. Perhaps experiencing pain for the first time was rattling your body so much that it couldn’t cope. “Why would I ever do that? This is literal hell.”

Alastor leaned over, taking the spoon from you with ease and bringing it to your mouth, “Because I’ll make you understand it’s where you belong. They didn’t appreciate you,” his grin widened, “Not like I do. Like I can, if you’d let me.”

Annoyed and flustered, you took the help to eat. “Thank you.” A spoonful, “How can you say that though? I’m the one and only Cupid.”

“Actually, no. You’re not. You are just the current incarnation. They’ll replace you.” 

You regretted telling him that. They could. Just replace you, that is. There was nothing stopping them. You stared into your soup, lips curling down.

“Don’t look so defeated. I’ll make you happy, for eternity.” 

Your eyes rolled. “When do you plan on starting that eternal happiness?”

You didn’t look at him when you said it, but you could see his hand slow, then become completely still. Had you wounded him?

He pivoted, “Doesn’t Cupid have wings?”

Another spoonful, “Of course.”

Alastor waited while you took a drink, determined to make you eat the entire bowl, “Where are they?”

A pause. Where were they? You hadn’t realized you couldn’t feel them. They weren’t everpresent, but their weight still sat between your shoulder blades at all times. Always. Normally. But now? 

“You don’t know? That’s troubling.” Alastor read your face with ease.

You shot him a look. Stop doing that. Stop replying to unspoken thoughts.

“Apologies.”

Another text before you could snap at him.

You slid the phone away from Alastor, face red. “Do you think, honestly, if you’re capable of it, that I’ll ever be able to go home?”

His hand came to your neck, running over your collarbone, “For the record, I’ve never once lied to you.” You rolled your eyes, fine, okay, “With your heavenly body, even as weakened as you have been here, I’d say just a few more weeks.”

You turned the phone face down.

“Good…that’s good. If you plan on winning me over, your countdown has started.” You pushed the soup away, appetite gone. The idea of never returning to heaven made you nauseous. He slid it back to you, face stern despite the smile he wore.

The walk home was quiet, your stomach full of unwanted soup.

No, not home. The hotel. 

He usually spoke a lot, clearly loving the sound of his own voice. His hand replaced the staff, settled on your back as he guided you. You could feel the warmth through your clothes. How could he be so hot and not be sweating? Another sinner thing?

The thought hadn’t left you by the time you came into view of the hotel gates. Maybe you had been replaced. How would you know? Maybe that was why your wings were gone. Surely there was some way to communicate from hell.

You found Lucifer as soon as you returned, unbothered by Alastor’s presence, “I need to speak to heaven.” 

Alastor was saying something but you had gotten quite good at tuning him out. Lucifer snapped back, the men quickly devolving into arguing again.

“Lucifer.” You said it with your chest. 

His apple topped cane whirled, a golden circle appearing with a crystal clear image of heaven’s glowing gates through its center.

A loud noise erupted behind you, a high pitched static wail, familiar tentacles flailed and a long shadow of a growing Alastor stretched across the wall. His back was bent into the lobby ceiling, perhaps three stories tall now.

The sounds of magic popping as Lucifer shapeshifted accented the sounds of horror with that of whimsy. You approached the portal, those black tendrils slithering around your ankles but you easily slipped out of them as their owner's energy was pulled to full demon Lucifer slamming into him.

Almost, you could see it. 

A monstrously large hand came down, shaking the hotel and knocking various objects off their perches in the lobby. Charlie and Vaggie, someone else you’d come to enjoy the company of, flew down the stairs.

The common area was filled with the sounds of yelling and breaking glass. You crawled over his hand as Alastor’s fingers curled around your body gingerly. He tried to pull you from the gateway but while he slowed, Lucifer now a flying horse kicking him in the face, your outstretched hand strained to enter the portal.

Your fingers grazed the doorway, the air around the lobby fizzing and warping as a desperate screech tore from Alastor’s wide and impossibly thin chest. The grip tightened around you. A static whine threatened to pop your eardrums.

As your fingertips pressed past the ring, they stopped. Something impenetrable and unseen between you and heaven. 

Alastor must have noticed it too, his grip loosening as you clamored on hand and knees to the portal. Your palm ran over the doorway, searching for a hole or seam to rip. Just under your skin was your home, bright and clean and painless. A tiny ‘no’ fell from your lips, smacking at the barrier with your open hand.

Alastor returned to his normal, still terrifying, height. Lucifer came forward, their fight losing motivation, his small hand on your shoulder as you sat on the hotel lobby floor. He closed the portal and apologized, “Sorry kid. Let’s try again when you finish that task, okay?”

Alastor’s arms went under your back and knees and lifted you off the ground. You didn’t resist or argue. Your eyes were unfocused, vision blurry with tears, as you were carried past the others. Vaggie looked ashamed, which was odd given she had more character than half the archangels could muster together between them.

There existed permissions for who could enter the heavenly realm, a list meticulously kept. They’d removed you from that roster. They’d locked the doors behind you.

You felt good. The final week of your first, and hopefully last, month in hell was marked with taking off your sling for the first time.

A good three day wallow in a metaphorical cave helped you emerge with renewed vigor. Of course they locked the gates behind you, otherwise you’d just go home. That made sense. That made sense.

That had to make sense. 

Deciding to take a risk and attempt to expedite your homecoming, you and Angel made plans. Like a teenager in a party movie you snuck out of the hotel when Alastor was asleep. Well, so you assumed. You weren’t really sure what he did behind closed doors.

Angel brought you somewhere he felt people would be receptive to discussing love and talking to angelic beings, and admittedly also very high. 

Sling off but still being as gentle as you could, you leaned across the small standing-only table to talk-shout with a rather cute aquatic demon. An eel? Or maybe some kind of water-fond lizard? It didn’t matter, his glasses were cute, both of you a little drunk,  and you quite good at saying the right things.

And all of the right things were said, and you felt maybe if nothing else you’d enjoy your first demonic lay, when the power shut off.

Everyone filed out, bummed and bothered to find most of the neighborhood shrouded in darkness.

Angel tapped your shoulder and pointed up the hill to the hotel, radio station a glow with a red light, “Ya know, I wouldn’t be surprised.” Nothing to do but to stare, you stayed quiet and angry while he flagged down a taxi knowing the trip would be fast without traffic lights, “Guess Daddy Dead Eyes is calling you back.” 

Anger grew and grew in your chest as you were charioted home.

Jesus, to the hotel. Stop doing that.

You burst into the radio station tower, Alastor barely reacting. Until, that is, you marched up to his desk.

Pinned before you could react, his body pressing into yours as your ass ran up onto the desk.

“Sneaking out like a child?” His voice was low, soft, unnatural. “Why do you intentionally torment me?” 

 “I have done,” you tried to move but only succeeded in rubbing your stomach against his crotch, “no such thing. You’re just possessed.”

He responded by pressing forward, no accident, as his eyes narrowed on you, “Correct. I am a man possessed.” When he rolled himself into you, an alcohol primed groan escaped your mouth. 

“I thought you didn’t care about those things,” your eyes flashed to his lap pushing into you and then back to his glare.

“You’re my exception that proves the rule. If you’re so desperate for attention there’s no need to leave the hotel to find it.” His smile was poisoned by the simmering anger in his eyes, “Dear.”

It was the alcohol and annoyance at losing a chance with glasses-man, Jake or Jark or something not worth a scrabble move, that made you sneer a reply, “Not yours. I am a divine creature, demon. Your body would just filthy me.” Nose up, feeling absolutely better than him in every sense, you pushed him off and left. 

That was easy. Wow. 

Proud of yourself, you made it to the elevator before you realized— illusions. Perhaps his illusion was the idea sex with you was worth the effort, more so than others. He said it himself before, he didn’t care for such things. Perhaps if you could show him it was as boring and unattractive as sex with anyone else could be, maybe you could shatter his mania with disappointment.

You pulled a u-turn and heel-toed right back into his station. Giving him no time to react this time, you climbed onto his chair and straddled him, “On second thought, try your worst. Let’s get it out of your system and move on.” You ground your hips down. He only smiled up at you, amused. Taking his hands you set them on your waist, giving him permission to handle you, “Claim me. Make everyone know I’m yours.” He didn’t move. You were starting to feel embarrassed, had he goaded you just to make you look stupid? He would.  But your kind invented the tension before sex between enemies, “If you can.”

That did it. His hair visibly stood on end, “It is not a matter of ability. It’s about-”

“If you can’t, that’s fine. No need to start lying to me now. But don’t say I never gave you the opportunity.” You smirked, hoping he enjoyed a taste of his own sardonic medicine, and lifted yourself off of him.

His hands came to life on your hips, helping you rise and then flipping you onto your stomach. Your arms pushed radio transmitters and various old timey fuckery away to make room for yourself.

Those talons slipped up the center of your bottoms and crooked into your underwear. Long and strong, his fingers felt you. “Is this a perk of a heavenly body or is this,” two fingers dipped into your already wet and relaxed entrance, “all for me?”

You fought the urge to respond with anything other than malice, “Don’t flatter yourself.”

In heaven no one needs preparation, no one needs lube or required stretching to keep things whole and fun. You would love to say that quality followed you down, but unfortunately, like perfect health and angelic wings, it had not. 

You decided to chalk it up to the alcohol. Always an easy excuse to offer yourself.

Alastor’s hands pulled away and up, finding the place just above the Rosie’s Emporium clothing tag and ripping the bottoms and underwear clean in half.

You bit into your hand to keep your excited shriek to yourself but unfortunately couldn’t stop your legs kicking up. His laugh echoed off the many windows. 

Why couldn’t he be worse at this? Why couldn’t Alastor be clumsy and meek and awkward at sex? No, the menace you’d gotten almost used to was confident and commanding, you felt yourself twitching in anticipation. People have a misconception that Cupid was a chaste and wholly emotional creature, which was false. First of all, Cupids varied based on the incarnation. Just like other heavenly creatures their personality was varied and unpredictable. 

Personally, you weren’t suited for the job. If you were honest. Why couldn’t your quiver just be full of Eros and Agape? Even of those two, sexual love was more your speed. Romance was fine and lovely but perhaps you’d gotten a little jaded. 

Luckily for you, fucking Cupid was something many winners had on their afterlife bucket lists and you rarely found yourself with an empty bed.

Your attention was stolen back, Alastor’s clawed hand grabbing at the flesh of your thighs, “Oops.”

Focus. Why were you doing this again? Your system was metabolizing the alcohol now, and with the air cooling off your exposed sex, everything was awash with lust. Did you want to diminish his mania or were you just horny?

Would it really be so bad to admit you were both?

Deep breath, you remembered. Boring. Banal. The plan was to be motionless and not provide him any satisfying sounds. Don’t touch him, don’t try to push back on him, no tricks or fancy shit. The sooner he was over this you could make someone trust in love and fuck off home. 

Seconds turned to a minute, your ass in the air as Alastor’s hands pawed at your skin. You wanted to ask what the hold up was, but you didn’t want to give away how much you were needing him to just fuck you already.

“Do you miss flying?”

You looked around, were you so drunk you missed an entire chunk of conversation while thinking about how to hide thirsting for his dick?

“Yes…?” True statement.

“Allow me to help with that.”

There was a moment you half expected to be chucked out the window, but almost worse than that, you heard him seat himself in the chair again before your body was picked up and off the desk. “Alastor! I don’t-,” Hands flailing, feet moving around the best they could, you struggled against the familiar tentacles he had command over. “I do not allow it!”

Your hands batted at them fruitlessly. One came under your knees and folded them to either side of your chest before wrapping around your waist twice, a second across your chest like a seatbelt snug and secure. Had you been on the floor you could almost be mistaken for taking a deeply devout praying stance. Only your arms were free to move, the position making you open and incapable of taking back any semblance of control. 

“Alastor!” Stretching, you could almost reach the edge of his work table, but your fingers and toes curled in as you were seated on something hot and stiff. Your lips quivered, desperate to keep silent as you were pulled down onto him. Reaching back your hands found his stomach, raking your nails across the skin in need of anything to grip. 

When you heard him chuckle to himself, you knew you were already losing. Plan backfiring entirely. You pulled your hands back to your center, taking ahold of the tentacle nestled between and across your chest. 

“Heavenly Father,” his voice was quiet but sure, your eyes so wide you worried you’d get stuck making a permanent face of utter shock and despair, “bless us and these thy gifts which we receive from thy bountiful goodness, through your name, our lord.” You were lifted off his lap, Alastor’s swollen tip dragging along your unstretched walls as he said the Lord's prayer, “Amen.” Pulled back down before the second syllable even reached your ears, you cut into your bottom lip as a scream bounced around behind your teeth.

Heathen.

“I would think you of all people knew how to finish a prayer.” Alastor chided, “What will heaven say?”

If heaven knew you were being impaled midair on an overlord’s cock, they’d create a second hell for you to rule. Population of none. Except maybe some horny nuns.

As he found a pace he seemed happy with, slow and long draws out of you, you realized how fucked you were. Looking down, you could see one of his hands was settled at the base of his cock, those long fingers draped down his balls. The other hand was unseen and unfelt. 

“Alastor.” You tried to sound stern.

“Oh I doubt heaven knows my name. Not yet at least.” He sounded unbothered, almost unaffected. “Not until I’ve spirited away their little angel of love.”

You were almost insulted at how easily he could speak despite being buried so far into your wet, hot cunt. Maybe you had been spoiled in heaven, people usually so turned on by the idea of you that they were coming undone as soon as you were wrapped around them or in them in whatever way you decided.  

A broken chant of “be bored, be bored,” in your mind as Alastor hummed, that mystery clawed hand falling at your back. Biting your lip, you tried to think about anything other than how full he was making you. Did the glasses man at the club have a cock as thick as Alastor’s? Would you have been as satisfied as you were now? Every down thrust made the tuft of fur at this base press against your ass. Soft. You wanted to grind against it, the idea pulling a wanton moan out.

Fuck. Failing to distract yourself because you got distracted. It was so hard to think about anything else than your body being pushed open again and again. The blood on your lips was sweet, licking them clean before finding a new spot to bite down on. Quiet.

“Ah, are you giving me the silent treatment?”

Could this son of a bitch read minds? Could sinners read minds?!

 If you didn’t reply, that was confirmation. But if you did reply, you were breaking your goal of not talking.

“Just…,” you took a deep sigh, knowing this was going to be rough, “I’m not really feeling like making any noise.” A shrug, the best you could manage at least while bound and held aloft in the space above his lap. Pretending this was normal and boring was a feat. “I’m not a vocal person during sex. I prefer to just lie there and get serviced. Don’t mind me.”

That sounded awful. Perfect. 

“Oh? Well then, I guess I’ll not worry myself.” You could hear the smile in his voice. Less perfect. He began to hum a little tune as your body, partially upright, was now being tilted forward at a 45 degree angle from his lap. His cock was bending in you, head pressing harshly up into your walls. 

Heart beating so fast you felt a dizzy spell hit you, that renewed anticipation almost as arousing as the sensations.

His humming continued like he was reading the paper. You’d never ridden a roller coaster, but you’d seen many people do it before and this was surely the same feeling; right at the peak before the drop. When the ride operator stills you and lets you stare down at the height before you. Your stomach was flipping, excitement tinged with fear. 

You were pulled off his dick until you felt the bell of his red tip get just outside your entrance. Was he going to pull out entirely?

No. He pulled you down by way of shadows and fucked you just a couple inches into your cunt. His head was dragging out past your tight hole and smashing back in, directly hitting your g-spot. The spongy bundle of nerve endings was dented with every thrust.

You weren’t used to having your entrance stimulated so much, the skin luckily becoming slick as your own wetness was fucked out of you. 

“That feels weird, please.” How quickly you gave up. “Stop pulling out like that.”

A considerate sigh, “But you’ve gotten so wet, my dear. You’re dripping down my thighs already. I don’t think you want me to stop.”

Could you cum like this? You felt like you could, maybe if you just…you quickened your breath, faster and faster. Your stomach heaving, you felt the crescendo of pleasure. 

“On second thought!” He stopped.

Your toes wiggled, hands gripping the tentacle on your chest. Quiet. Shh. Don’t argue. Boring. Don’t care. The building orgasm waned, you felt your blood pressure lower. This really was hell. 

Alastor’s head was just sitting in you, burning hot and throbbing. You were sure you could feel his heartbeat. 

You two were locked in a standoff. Someone had to let on they were enjoying themselves; Alastor releasing pent up frustration with your attitude toward his affections, you chasing down a rare penetration-only orgasm. 

An idea struck you, a way to hopefully antagonize him and bruise his pride enough to force him into your hand (pussy), “Thank God. I think it’s almost my bedtime.”

Alastor’s smile strained, a twitch coming over his left eye. A trap. But the idea of letting you down and off of him seemed far worse than the small defeat you were offering. “Allow me to rock you to sleep then, sweetheart.”

Success! Shit! 

You reached out, the angle of your punishment allowing you to grab the edge of the table and grip. Alastor’s annoyance translated to an inhuman pace, him pulling you off entirely from his cock before bringing you back down. He was positively slipping in and out of you, your lower lips puffy and soaked around him. This degree of wetness was something you couldn’t remember feeling outside of marathon sessions. 

When your hands tightened, a shock of pain tore down your arm, a scream bringing Alastor to a sudden stop. “My collar…” Pain was apparently not a kink you enjoyed, though you briefly wondered if heaven allowed it at all. 

You couldn’t even fuck properly. You couldn’t do anything right. All you managed to do was fail. A sting to your eyes as the air hit your welling tears. Did humans feel this pain often? Your body was righted and turned, you looked down to Alastor’s face as you were brought to him. He looked so soft, usual smirk a sweet toothless smile, “I told you to keep the sling on, didn’t I?” He looked happy.

Your arms found his shoulders and your head came to his chest, “Shut up and finish already.” He didn’t release you from the binding, instead pulling the right arm under the hold of his slender tendril to keep it safe and out of the way.  His hands were both at the base of his cock while you were gently riding him. Well, “you”. He was still using his powers to manipulate your body on and off of him. Alastor’s fingers were spreading your arousal down his shaft and along his tightening balls, if you had looked at his face you’d have seen a weakened man there, furrowed brows and lust drunk eyes. But you didn’t look, trying to hide the same expression on your own features. 

Left hand free, no need to hold yourself up, you made lazy, and you hoped subtle, circles around your clit. You weren’t sure if this was a total failure or not, but you could finish and say something good came of it. You, specifically. 

Things were quiet, though. The loudest sound in the room was the wet pop coming from where his body was meeting your sopping hole. His breathing was fast and soft, sighing when he bottomed out. Another bite to your lip, a few more deep hits to your cervix, and you enjoyed a small but satisfying release. The hand on you stayed through, riding out tiny waves of pleasure as you twitched around him. When you felt his release you sighed, you did it. You think. Maybe. Regardless. 

As he slowly lifted you, you considered if your legs could hold you—

Up you went and back down you fell as he took a new, quicker pace.

“A-Ah-lastor?! You,” you bit your tongue, “already finished?”

You had made a mistake earlier that you hadn’t even realized. But Alastor had been holding it between his sharp teeth, “How many times?”

Absolutely no idea what he was talking about, you gasped out a reply, “What!?”

“How many times should I fill you before you’re too filthy to return to heaven, do you think?” He couldn’t be serious. “Three? Five? You see, the advantage of using my tentacles is that I don't get tired.”

Oh, but he was serious. 

The battle was entirely forfeit somewhere around the third time he flooded you with his seed.

“These aren’t the usual screams I enjoy from my studio, but I’m not averse to them.”

 When he felt you’d learned whatever lesson you were supposed to be taking in by the pump full, you were finally removed from him. He covered your lower half with his coat around your waist. It would be lying to say you were surprised to find his wide shoulders and small waist wasn’t just an illusion of his well tailored, yet oddly torn, coat. He was annoyingly attractive. Who gave him the right?

Your legs gave out when you tried to stand, warm hands pulling under your armpits to get you back on your feet. As much as you wanted to push him away, you were still a little tipsy and your legs still getting used to full blood flow. His arm held out for you to use for stability, you took it and wobbled silently to the floor you both lived on. Before you left the elevator you looked down and saw a line of white dripping down your inner leg. Took longer than you expected, honestly. 

When you turned to the right to go to your door, his arm came around your waist and shepherded you to his room on the left. You shot him a look, asking what he thought he was doing. 

He laughed, “Oh, after tonight’s little escapade, you’re moving!” He opened his door and gestured for you to enter, “Welcome home, my dear.”

What was worse than a failure? A catastrophe? This was that. 

“Now come on, we need to get you cleaned up.” A hand patted softly at your ass before ushering you inside.

He did just that, wiping you down and undressing you before settling you into his bed. Exhausted and sore, you decided to argue after sleep.

When you awoke, you checked your shredded bottoms for your phone. Nothing. 

An answer was found when you mentioned it to Alastor, who asked what you were searching for so early in the morning, “Perhaps someone at that venue you enjoyed has it? Too bad you can’t go back and ask.” He was resting his back against the headboard, you realized he’d unbuttoned his shirt quite a bit. “Oh well!”

How was he always making you scream?

ᡣ𐭩ˋ°•*⁀➷ masterlist

∰ Summoning the Horny Little Deer Cult (general tag list):

@cxrsedwxrlds , @nonetheartist , @tsunaki , @janchei , @wettiny-in-smutland , @moonmark98 , @hoebihoeshi , @pansexual-opera-house , @polytheatrix , @lorddiabigmommymilkers , @backinthefkingbuildingagain , @harley2223-blog , @coffee-colored-hopeless-romantic , @poinappel , @midnightnoiserose , @spookieroz , @missmidorima , @ivebeenthearchersstuff , @downbadforfictionalppl , @xx-all-purpose-nerd-xx , @sleepylittledemon , @aether-th3-enby , @dontfuckbutimfab , @breathlessaura , @aperfectidiot , @certainlygay , @jth12 , @star-kujo-platinum ,

@ivebeenthearchersstuffn, @rubyninja1 , @simphornies , @alleystore , @readergirlstuff , @berry-demon , @chirimeimei , @fairyv-ice , @olive-frog , @thonethatflies620 , @tiredkiwiii , @ilikemyteawithmilk , @whateverlololo , @psipies , @howabouticallyou , @roxxie-wolf , @ive-no-idea-what-to-call-this , @fizzled-phoenix , @fjorjestertealeaf , @phobophobular , @surusurusuru , @mariaclarade-la-cruz1 , @whateverlololo , @simplyonehellofanotaku , @xixflower , @i-am-nonbinary-bean-deal-with-it , @roxxie-wolf , @a-case-of-attachment , @multifandomfanatic02 , @watereddownmilk , @raynerrold , @crazii-saber-wolf , @valkyrie-expeditions , @bontensbabygirl , @sillyb0nez , @oo0lady-mad0oo , @jazzmasternot , @pseudobun , @fraugwinska✨, @alitaar , @straows , @alastorssimp , @angelicwillows , @b-o-n-e-daddy , @one-and-only-tay , @asleeponelmstreet , @tremendoushearttaco , @mutifandomkid , @sapphirecaelis , @itzzzkiramylove  @saccharine-nectarine , @viannasthings , @looking1016 , @ultimate-duck-king-lucifer , @blakeaha , @astraechos , @reath-solia ,

🏹Alastor stalkers: @celestial-vomit , @amurtan

@faeoffaith , sailorsmouth , @jeannyjaykaydeh , @jyoongim , @cosmic-lavender , @saturn-alone , @lustylita , @radio-darling , @kaylopolis , @dickmastersworld , @leviskittywh0re

@asianfrustration13 @alittletiredcry @sirens-and-moonflowers @alastorssimp

#alastor x reader #alastor smut #alastor x you #alastor #hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel fandom #hazbin hotel smut #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin alastor #hazbin hotel alastor #smut

[femmefatale-tales]

Slut! ( Taylor’s version)

Warnings: so much fluff

Bucky x reader

“In a world of boys, he’s a gentleman”

“I hate men, I can’t stand them right now. I should’ve never went to the blind date Wanda set me up for, I should’ve known he was gonna be douche” I talked to myself as I was entering the compounds hall.

Not many people were present at the compound everyone was on missions and I tired of men, wanting to rant to my friends but since they weren’t present I was just talking to myself.

I plopped myself on the couch just staring at the ceiling. “I hate him, I hate men. I can’t even call him a man, he’s still a boy” I said to myself.

“Hey doll”, a raspy gorgeous familiar voice called me out of my trance.

Bucky.

I turned on my stomach on the couch and looked at him as he sat opposite to me on a chair looking as gorgeous as ever even with his bed hair.

“Were you talking to yourself just now?” I cringed.

“Well Wanda and Nat both are on a mission so, yeah I was kinda ranting to myself” I said smiling seeing his smile.

“You know, you can always rant to me” he spoke after a bit of a pause.

God, he was sooo…….

“Bucky I can’t rant to you about how much I hate men” I chuckled.

“Why not? I mean understand there are some douches in the world. My sister always talked with me about this stuff” he joked.

…..distracting with his pretty smile and that black sweaters hugging his biceps just enough to stop my breaths.

“Really? Are you sure?” I questioned.

“Yes doll” he assured.

“Okayyyy. Um so Wanda set me up on a blind date and she was so convincing, I couldn’t say no to her. So I went to the date today and he was 40 minutes LATE!!. And then I couldn’t even tell a bit about myself, I’m sure he might not even know my name. He was talking about himself the whole night, never pulled my chair, never walked me home which I’m kinda glad for but he wasn’t a idk he jus-

Wasn’t you.

“Wasn’t a gentleman?” Bucky finished my sentence and my heart couldn’t have beated more faster I thought.

“ yes” I spoke breathless a bit.

Did my heart always beat so fast near Bucky?.

“Doll, he didn’t deserve you. You deserve more than this”

You?

“Bucky, gentlemen like you don’t exist anymore” I scoffed.

In a world of boys, he’s a gentleman.

“Im sure they do you, doll. Im sure there is a gentleman for you” he reasoned.

“Maybe”

“Im sure”

“You promise?” I joked as I stood up to leave wishing he would stop me and ask to be my gentleman.

“Yes”

“Thank you” I said as I left.

He smiled, killing my heart.

“Got love struck, went straight to my head”

“I told you sam, don’t take that cup” I heard Bucky’s voice while I entered the kitchen rubbing my eyes from woken up so early.

“God! Fine!” Sam semi shouted frustrated.

I winced.

“Why are you guys yelling at 8 in the morning???” I said

“Sorry doll” Bucky looked away a bit like he didn’t want me here.

“It’s all his fault” Sam argued.

I looked at Sam, a bit confused.

“For some reason he’s not letting me have this cup for coffee yet he’s not using it too” he complained and Bucky winced.

I was still confused and a bit hurt seeing Bucky ignore me.

“What cup??” I questioned.

“This red one” he showed me.

I couldn’t be more surprised to see my own new cup I brought the other day.

Bucky was not letting him drink in that cup cause it’s mine? Does he even know? Or is he just messing with Sam?

My head felt a bit fuzzy.

“Um that’s my cup” I confirmed trying not to smile but I knew the blush was creeping up in my cheeks.

A realisation dawned on sam’s face as he spoke “Oh it is…..”

He started chuckling

“We’ll enjoy your cup DOLL” he exasperated.

But I couldn’t stop looking at Bucky and never realised Sam left.

Bucky poured coffee in my cup.

He walked towards me to hand me the cup with a sheepish smile on his face.

I couldn’t breath.

“I remember you said your day always goes bad when you don’t have your cup sooo..” he handed me the coffee.

Oh god.

“Enjoy your coffee doll” he whispered in my ear.

And I, got love struck, went straight to my head.

Got love sick all over my bed.

“My head hurts” I stated as I layed on my bed.

Wanda and Nat laying besides me. It was the peak of girls night and I couldn’t stop thinking about Bucky, it was making my head hurt and the alcohol in my system didn’t help.

“I like him so much, I feel sick” I said.

I told them everything that happened between me and Bucky and how I was starting to catch feelings.

“Tell him then” nat said and Wanda hummed in agreement.

“I can’t, he sees my as a friend. He won’t like me back”

No one responded.

I looked at them and they had fallen asleep.

I kept thinking about him.

And just like that, the more I thought about him…

I got love sick all over my bed.

I never slept that night.

“Love to think you’ll never forget. We’ll pay the price I guess”

“Tony! Why is tonight’s party a Date party??? Why is a date compulsory?” I complained.

“Let me guess, you don’t have one?” He said smugly.

Yes.

“No, I do” I lied.

“Then bring him”

That asshole.

I left.

Did Bucky have a date? Was he going? Will he ask why I didn’t come? Will he even remember?

I- love to think he’ll never forget.

I didn’t see him coming when I bumped into him.

“Hey doll” he smiled.

I looked up. Swallowing the words on tongue.

“Hey” I said as I backed up a bit for my own sanity.

“You going to the party tonight?”

He asked and my heart jumped.

“No, not really. I don’t have a date”

“Really?”

“Um yeah” I said embarrassed.

“Come with me then” I looked at him wide eyed suprised, my throat dry.

“What?”

“Come with me doll” he repeated smiling.

“Um didn’t tony say “no teammates as dates” in the invitation?” I asked breathless.

“We’ll pay the price, I guess” he shrugged.

“I’ll get ready then” I smiled like I had never ever felt happiness before.

“Me too, gotta get ready for my lady” he kissed my cheek and left.

I was frozen on spot. But I ran to my room as soon as I was out of my trance. Giggling like a school girl.

“But if I’m all dressed up, they might as well be looking at us. And if they call me a slut, You know it might be worth it for once.

I was scared. Was I dressed to slutty? Is this too much? What if Bucky doesn’t like?

That’s all I thought while I walked to his room in a black dress I thought looked too slutty.

The dress is was gorgeous but something got into my head.

I knocked on his door. What if he thinks I’m a slut? What if he thinks I’m stupid to ask hi-

He opened the door. In all his glory wearing a white shirt tucked in black pants, with his hair slick back and I forgot everything.

“Hey, gorgeous” he said.

I couldn’t comprehend that HE called me gorgeous.

“Hey” I say sheepishly looking up at him.

“You look breathtaking” he complimented making me breathless again.

“You think so?” I questioned.

“Doll, I have never seen someone as gorgeous and beautiful as you” he confessed.

I couldn’t believe him.

“Bucky, you’ve seen so many woman in you life, don’t lie”

“That’s right I have, so shouldn’t it speak volumes when I say you are the most gorgeous and beautiful woman I’ve ever seen?” He tucked my chin upwards making me look at him.

I got so lost in his eyes.

“What if people look at us weird?” I asked.

“If you’re all dressed up, they might as well be looking at us” he smiled looking at me, still so close as ever.

I couldn’t help but smile looking at him.

“What if people think the dress is too slutty? What if they call me a slut ?” I questioned again.

“Then we won’t leave until I punch them in the face, and who cares about people. I don’t think the dress is slutty, You look perfect” he replied and reassured me again.

He’s right. Why would I care about others with him by my side. Who cares right?

Right.

“Let’s go doll” he took his blazer.

“I’m ready for our date” he stated smiling as he took my hand in his and gave me a reassuring squeeze.

“Bucky” I stoped at the door.

“Yes?”

“I want to tell you, I really enjoyed tonight incase I forget later, And if they call me a slut, you know it might be worth it for once” I told him smiling my biggest.

He kissed me, on the lips this time.

“But I’ll still punch anyone in face who does” he said as he held my flushed smiley face against his breathless smiley face.

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x short!reader #grumpy sunshine trope #incorrect bucky quotes #tfatws!bucky #bucky fic #bucky x y/n #bucky x you #bucky barnes #bucky fanfic #1989 taylor's version #taylor swift

[fizzywashere87]

Can you write a raph oneshot where reader comforts raph after the kraan incident and gets him a giant plushie

notes: yuhhhh i need to be doing more oneshots anyways :D I hope you like it and apologies for the super duper long wait!

M.List

It'll Be Okay, Big Man

You know it's crazy how fast society moves on as a whole after the world was so close to ending.

It's crazy how quick they just forget four mutants stopped an alien invasion.

Even as the city was being cleared of the debris, torn buildings, the weird ooey-gooey bubble gum looking fungus? Not even scientists knew what to call it. Either way, even as they seen the evidence something big had went down in New York City everyone just seemed to move on, making jokes about it for clout and giggles, nobody seemed to be too shaken at what happened, yeah?

Humans just seem to be silly like that. They don't acknowledge anything that they don't fully understand. Well, while society as a whole moved on, forgot that the sky opened to make way for a huge alien spaceship that seemed to come from the back of a fucking Lebanese shawarma restaurant, forgot about how it looked like a deadass apocalypse went down in New York, there were a few that acknowledged what actually happened- you could even go as to say they were in the center of everything that went down. They were probably the ones that made the spaceship explode, they were probably the ones that made the sky close back up, they could have been the reason New York was able to go back to whatever was trending that week. Don't ask me who, I probably wouldn't know.

It's hard to move on like the news channels decided they would when you were in the middle of it.

Who are these people? I know you're waiting for me to shit it out

Raphael was having a lot of trouble moving on like those silly humans did.

Those stupid thoughts wouldn't leave his head like he wished they would. This wasn't like him at all, he was so out of it. He doesn't even remember what he did under the Kraang's control if he was being deadass. Part of him wishes he did but the slightly bigger part was grateful he doesn't.

Raphael couldn't help but think it was his fault, what exactly? Everything. From the very beginning, to the end of it where it almost ended in his younger brother getting stranded in a whole ass different dimension with something his dad would've told him wasn't real because monsters didn't exist, it was Raph's fault.

Everything that happened that day still haunts him, and he hasn't told anybody about it.

Raphael hasn't told anybody how he gets little flashes- little visions- images- whatever you wanna call it- little touches- feelings- it doesn't matter. It was evident to him that the battle he had to fight internally to win the external was far deeper than he thought. 'Tough shit,' he wants to tell himself. He tries- he really does, he wants everything to be normal again, those little arguments with Leo he could deal with, they always made up- but more importantly he just wants that sticking feeling to go away.

Raphael felt dirty.

You had a feeling Raph wasn't being honest with you. He seemed... off. That's sugarcoating it, he seemed as if he was ready to break down at any moment- any second- you felt it coming.

So there you were heading, to him, you'd already sent a text explaining you on the way to the lair, ready to see your boyfriend. He seen the text and had replied with an 'okay! <3' to which you smiled at softly and picked up your pace, you and the teddy bear in your hand. You were gonna dominate the world with that motherfucker, jus look at 'im!

Earlier, you had decided to put a little gift basket together for your boyfriend. You'd figured he'd needed some extra loving right now, he wasn't so great at hiding it. That- or you knew him very well. Why can't it be both?

You put little pieces of candy you were sure he liked, a king sized bar of Twix because let's be fucking real, they're better than your grammies cookies. You'd included little plushies, a blanket, a little album of pictures with his family- you and April included, and the teddy bear which was currently in your other hand.

Raph would like it, and you hoped it would make him feel better, at least bring a sense of comfort to him in his state. Maybe added cuddles and kisses would help if it didn't. For once, you were confident in your ability to give gifts to people you actually like. The chances of him liking it were higher than the chances it would make him feel worse so you figured- hey! why the fuck not?

You're such a good partner.

Alas, you arrived at the lair, goodies in hand, high hopes for your reptilian boyfriend. You walk some ways to find Raph in his room, curling a dumbbell whilst sitting on his bed. You smile and walk towards him with the gifts in hand, "Hey teddy bear," im sorry i visibly cringed. "How are you?" You ask, testing him, will he lie and tell you he's fine? Will he open up to a conversation about it? You hoped it was the second option.

Raph's face lights up as he sees your good looking ass, even more so as he sees you brought gifts too. "Heya sugar! Raph's doing just fine," Liar "how about you?" He smiles and gets up, placing the dumbbell down and pulls you into a gentle hug. "You brought gifts?" He adds with a smile.

You decided to ignore his little lie, as you were going to bring it up in a bit anyways, instead, choosing to answer his questions. "I'm doing alright," you add with a smile, reciprocating the hug best you could with the things in your hand. "Yeah, I figured you needed a smile." And that was your first attempt to attack the situation.

Raph raised a brow, and allowed you to put the stuff down, and sit on his bed. He joined you, the bed dipping at his added weight. "Why do you say that sweetie?" You knew him better than he thought.

"Well," You start, "Lately you've been off, and by 'off' I mean you seem upset. Upset with yourself. And you've been on edge." You finish, looking at him, scanning his face, and you came to the conclusion he was about to break. "Do you want to talk about it?" You gently ask, placing the teddy bear in his lap.

Raph sighed, so many things, so much stress, so much fear. Damn. "I'm not a good brother." He says quietly, so quietly you thought it was in your head. After convincing yourself he actually spoke and you didn't hit your head that fucking hard in the morning, you sigh quietly and bring him closer to you.

"Why do you say that?" You murmur quietly, rubbing his arms in a comforting manner. You scan his face for any clue, hint, anything that might give it away (thought you were sure it was the reason you had in mind). His eyes welled up with tears and you sighed. "You don't have to tell me right now." You assured him softly, you'd figure he would talk about it when he was ready. You look to the basket of stuff and a soft smile comes across your face, he needed a small distraction right now.

"Hey Raph," You start and he looks to you with glossy eyes, giving a hum in response, you offer a small sympathetic smile to your boyfriend in return and reach for the basket and had it to him. "You never got to look at what else was inside, would you like to do that instead right now?" You ask and a small smile makes it's way across Raph's face. He clears his throat and nods, "Sure thing, sweets." He looks at you in gratitude as a silent way of calming down and thanking you for it.

Raph opens the basket and his small smile turns into a brighter grin, "Aw baby, my favorite candy! I knew keeping around would do me some good!" He gives you a wet kiss on your cheek making you giggle and swat at him with pink cheeks. "Hey!" You couldn't keep the giggles from escaping as you tried to sound mad at him for his comment, "What did you mean by that?!" Raph chuckles and shrugs, "Don't worry about it." He replies. As he looks through the basket he finds the little plushies and immediately his sadness is gone. "Baby!" He pulls you onto his lap and squeezes you tight (always careful to never be too tight), he pulls out the blankets and wraps them around you both, immediately feeling back at home. He finds the album and immediately you feel some weight lift off of his shoulders as if you two were one.

You two spend the rest of the night flipping through the photo album under the blanket as he snacks on his candy, plushies all around you guys, problems pushed aside for now. It was just you and him.

Raphael's problems were nowhere near gone, nowhere near fixed and if he sat quiet for long enough he would feel that need to be cleansed- he would feel dirty again.

Even though that may be true, he simply didn't feel it when you were there to make his mood better, it didn't erase his problems, no,

but he knows you'll always be there to tell him,

"It'll Be Okay, Big Man."

#fizzytried #fizzyusedabraincell #tmnt raphael #rise of the tmnt #tmnt #rottmnt raph #rottmnt oneshot #rottmnt angst #comfort #x reader #reader insert

[neutronice]

Yuuri Katsuki: the importance of being earnest

There’s a reason that trying to write “fan ascending” is an extremely hard trope to get right, because so often the ‘ordinary Marty Stu’ pairing with the superstar has this air of author wish fulfillment to it that can ring a little bit false.

It’s also why Yuri!!! on Ice is brilliant, because it nailed the fan ascending trope. How did it do this? In a couple of ways.

First and foremost, Yuuri Katsuki is not an ordinary fan. He’s an unreliable narrator who is a Japanese superstar without the ability to see that about himself. He has every bit the ability of Victor Nikiforov, just with much more of it stored up in his potential rather than results and blocked by his anxiety.

That though is not why Victor fell for him. And not why it felt so damn real to see Victor fall for him. Because Yuuri’s power was in who he was inside, and how he dealt with/handled Victor Nikiforov becoming his coach, and importantly, the massive difference between how Victor predicted this arrangement was going to go, and how it actually went.

Victor remembers the drunk and moony Yuuri begging him at the banquet, and then skating Stammi Vicino. In Victor’s “always be camera ready” existence, he probably saw the Stammi Vicino skate as a brilliant marketing strategy, Yuuri making clear he was serious and asking again. And Victor, who was burned out and needed something new probably laughed and said “he got me.”

But… as we know, Stammi Vicino was not about luring Victor to Hasetsu. It was a genuine Yuuri trying to find the things that could bring his love for skating back. It wasn’t meant to be a public call to Victor at all, and so when Victor came and expected cameras and social media and look at me Victor is my coach! He got… something so entirely different.

He got a front-row seat to what it looks like when an entire hometown has adopted their local skater as a collective son. He got a front-row seat to a family who loved their son and supported him no matter what. He got a front-row seat to what happens when sincere hard work and friends who care about the person not the persona band together to help someone reach their potential.

He got I want to eat katsudon with you if I win, instead of I want you to declare to the world that you are my coach.

And for Victor, I think this was a shock.

Yuuri didn’t even fathom the idea of telling the whole world that Victor was coaching him (which we watch Victor decide to do).

Yuuri worried about how he was going to afford Victor’s coaching fees, as if Victor really truly was a celebrity coach, instead of a skater looking for a new way to be inspired.

One scene I have always adored is Victor complaining to Yuuri about coach seats being cramped on the way to Beijing. We know that Victor would easily have flown them both in First Class and not thought anything of it. It means that Yuuri was insistent that he pay for himself and his coach to fly to Beijing. I’ve no doubt he also insisted on paying for both his and Victor’s hotel rooms.

It’s also why the purchase of those rings is so profound. Because Victor knows that Yuuri budgets carefully. Yuuri bought those expensive rings for himself and his rich boyfriend, needing to pay them off in installments, without so much as glancing back at said rich boyfriend about finances. Victor recognized the profundity of the gesture.

And to Victor? Here was a person who made it so plain that he had no intention of ever taking advantage of him. Yuuri’s entire desire with Victor was for Victor just to be himself. Yuuri didn’t need a “oh look Victor is my coach look everyone.” He was over the moon that his idol was there teaching him. He didn’t want a fake kiss and relationship, he wanted a Victor who freaked out when he screwed up.

It meant that Victor who do you want me to be to you? Nikiforov’s mask slowly eroded away. And he found that Yuuri relished in the real Victor. And that it felt good being the real Victor.

All because Yuuri just wanted to eat katsudon with him when he won, insisted on paying both his and Victor’s way when it mattered.

Yuuri wanted Victor, and only Victor. The real one. And in every action, every decision, that Yuuri made, he reminded Victor of that.

It’s a master class to people attempting to write ‘the fan and the idol’ stories. Yuuri wanted Victor the person, not Victor the persona. And in every action, he reinforced that for Victor.

No wonder Victor fell so hard.

#yoi meta #victuuri #viktuuri #why yuuri and victor are perfect for each other #yoi the fan ascending trope done right

[bird-inacage]

Love Sea: Fortpeat's Letters to Mahasamut & Tongrak (Q1 - Q10)

Here I go again into detective mode. I've been searching through the letters that the cast have written to their characters, to see what further hints are to be found on Mahasamut and Tongrak.

🌊 Maturity through Hardship

Mahasamut may be the younger of our two, but he's been through a lot. "Your life has never been easy", which indicates overcoming odds that are stacked against you. It's those life experiences that have led Mut to become very mature, someone who is both "reasonable" and "thoughtful". He can come across wiser than his years, to the surprise of those around him (including Fort himself apparently). He notes Mut's ability to "see through people's true nature", which alludes to insightfulness and a good judge of character. It could also mean the ability to see the good in someone, despite how they present. It's easy to forget his real age. Someone whose had to grow up too fast may need a support network that embraces his big kid at times.

🌊 Determination in Adversity

The fact that Mahasamut has already been through so much and continues to experience "heartache and body ache" during the series - which Fort playfully quips 'is that enough for you?' indicates a person whose is astonishingly resilient and welcomes tough trials. (I assume this is in reference to the BTS clips of him looking bruised). It takes real strength of character to constantly pick yourself back up, without becoming defeatist or jaded. To see these obstacles as opportunities rather than setbacks, something to take in your stride as best you can.

🌊 'Live, Laugh, Love': Being True to Yourself

Fort mentions Mahasamut's honesty and his humour. As cheesy as the above motto is, I do get the sense that Mut is a person who strives to live fully, passionately and freely. Who really values life and being his authentic self. And by all means, when you're dialled up to 100 all the time, you could be a lot for some people. Too much of a good thing may be what gets on Tongrak's nerves initially.

✍️ A Lonely Existence

One of the initial theories I made about Tongrak as a writer is that this could indicate a very solitary lifestyle. Peat mentions if Tongrak feels lonely because he lives alone in a big house. This could explain why he has flings, because he's trying to fill a void. Loneliness can be due external factors that are hard to control (such as your career or upbringing causing isolation), or internal (pushing others away or feeling like no one understands you).

Peat makes a point of saying Tongrak deserves to be cared for. He may deem himself undeserving through his own perception of self or via the judgement of others. Aya's letter to Kaimook also mentions that Tongrak needs someone like Mahasamut by his side, as she was running around taking care of him. This seems to imply he doesn't have many he can lean on or turn to.

✍️ A Guarded Façade

Peat mentions how nice it was to play a more relaxed and cute side to Tongrak. A side that clearly isn't privy to everyone. Tongrak may be a bit uptight but it's very likely that his confidence and assuredness is just a persona, and he needs to learn how to let those walls down once in a while. "Everyone can be weak sometimes" can be interpreted as Tongrak feeling ashamed of weakness, or being unable to project any vulnerability.

I think it's natural for creators and artists to seek a little validation. And with that is the pressure of meeting people's expectations, of proving yourself, of opening yourself up to criticism. Perhaps this is also why Tongrak seeks comfort in people finding him attractive. It might be the one characteristic he knows he'll receive guaranteed positive reinforcement for, but it's ultimately not because of who he is underneath.

THEORIES: DYNAMICS TO BE EXPLORED

Optimism vs Pessimism

It seems to me like one of the potential differences between them is Mahasamut's positivity (optimism) vs Tongrak's negativity (pessimism). I just get 'Why?' and 'Why not?' energy from these two. Mahasamut doesn't allow knocks to easily break his spirit or his ability to bounce back. And if we're being cliché, those who grow up in more rural surroundings, whose livelihoods rely on the elements can be more hardy because they've had to be. Whereas Tongrak seems much less secure emotionally. Peat specifically reassures Tongrak that he will get through the hard times even if he is struggling right now, which sounds like a rather disheartened mindset.

Preserving Spiritedness

I have a hunch that Mahasamut's boisterous nature will be what injects some much needed relief or liveliness that Tongrak may be missing in his life. And in response to that, it would be natural for Tongrak to develop a really protective streak over Mahasamut's rare brand of vivaciousness. This would also play into the age dynamic well.

#love sea #love sea the series #love sea meta #fortpeat #fort thitipong #peat wasuthorn #mahasamut #tongrak #where i read between the lines like a woman possessed

[spells-potions-and-books]

A rant about the ToH fandom

If you're not interested jus scroll past this

I've been in the toh fandom for almost a year (I think) and ive met all kinds of people. I'm more alligned with Belos and Wittebane fans since its one of my problems with the show: the lack of backstory and wasted protential of Belos.

I entered a server centered around Belos and I had a lot of fun, they listened to me and I could share my ideas and drawings but there was a problem, they were really critical to the show.

That, in itself isnt a problem, the show has a lot of problems and I think its good that someone sees them and tells how one could improve them. But they had a problem with every single little thing with the show.

They often complained about everything, the jokes, the boiling isles, the characters, and everything. It arrived to the point that it was exhausted to read.

They said that most fandom "lacked critical skills" when they said that Luz appropiated witch culture and that she could be replaced with a generic male fantasy protagonist.

I know that the representation on the show isnt perfect and there are many things that could be improved but the way they say they feel like a bi latina character could be replace, is weird.

I dont have a problem with Belos fans until this server, because they are so centered in him that is so weird. Its okay if you like him, i do too but the fact that they believe he should be focused a lot more on the show to the point they dont even want to know anything about Luz.

Someone even said that they didnt like Luz older design because she looked like a boy and that didnt help that she could be replaced by a boy. I got into an argument with this person, and they failed to tell me why she could be replaced with a boy. Maybe the reason is that they dont like Luz and see her as replacable.

One time I asked how I could make Luz not to apropiate witch culture and they just said that it didnt matter because witches dont exist. Then why where they were crying about it!!!???

This people just lack any critical skills and they are just as bad as fans that refuse to acknowledge that the show has any problems. I would even say that they are worse because they nitpick every single thing about a show they dont even like.

I dont know if anyone is going to read this but if you did, please tell me your thoughts on this xd

#toh critical #toh fandom #toh fandom critical

[nightghoul381]

Dark If ~ Jude Jazza

This a fan translation so it is definitely not 100% accurate. I do not own anything related to Ikemen Villains. Support Cybird by buying their amazing stories!

CW: Mentions of blood

Prologue | Part 1 | Part 2 | Bitter End | Premium End | Epilogue

I immediately started researching things in the library. About curses and magic.

The knowledge I gained from books every day was all about things I didn’t know, having been raised in an overprotected castle.

Kate: “Time is not irreversible, and space is not absolute.”

Kate: “Like intricately intertwined threads, the past and the future, and one world and another, can be connected.”

Kate: “…Maybe that’s why I have memories of living both in England and in the world of fairy tales…”

Both existed separately, but now they are intertwined as one.

It’s like twisting two threads together.

When I quickly turned the page, I saw that it was written about a wizard.

Because wizards possess incredible power and are rare in number, they often become the source of contention between countries.

It is not uncommon for one’s life to be targeted by assassins from other countries. This is because if you kill one wizard, you will have a military advantage.

(Because wizards can easily plot to overthrow the country,)

(If they refuse to belong to the national army, they are often imprisoned or killed--)

Kate: “…Oh I see…”

(I can’t believe that the overprotective king and military would tolerate such a situation just because he’s a wizard…)

Anger and shame at not knowing anything welled up.

Jude the Wizard: “What are you doing here night after night?”

Kate: “Mr. Jude…”

As soon as I saw him, I felt a rush of regret for the words I had spoken a few days ago.

Kate: “…I’m sorry for saying it was because of your personality that you were targeted.”

Jude the Wizard: “Ah? I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Kate: “Just as you said, I’ve come to learn how little I knew.”

Kate: “I want you to listen to my wishes…First, we will be able to talk as equals.”

Jude the Wizard: “….ha.”

Jude let out a dry laugh and hooked his fingertips in my collar again, pulling my face closer to his.

Kate: “…ngh”

Jude the Wizard: “I thought that a princess who had been content to be kept in a box for many years would grow up to be a selfish, spoiled brat.”

Jude the Wizard: “Yeah, you see it too. I’m going to make you so frustrated that you’ll cry.”

Kate: “…What was that?”

He is still sadistic and looks down on me. And yet, for some reason, my heart lifts.

(I’m not saying I’m not happy to have received a bit of recognition, )

(But I’m not…I guess.)

Jude the Wizard: “Well, at least you can try your best.”

Jude pulled his fingers out of his collar and left the library.

(--Come to think of it, I was told I was a slave and even had a collar put on me.)

Yet I was never restricted from doing anything other than leaving the castle.

“I’m safe, so please don’t send any soldiers. There will be unnecessary deaths.”

Ellis had also delivered a letter with that written to the castle.

Since then, they have continued to communicate regularly to me to let me know that they are safe.

(If the curse is due to his grudge—maybe I did something wrong.)

(Why can’t I remember…?)

As if to vent my growing frustration, I immersed myself in researching curses and magic.

As I spend my days like that, before I know it--.

Kate: “Ah, good morning Jude.”

Jude the Wizard: “…You did that on purpose.”

Kate: “…Did what?”

Jude the Wizard: “I’ve got bed hair.”

A hand reached out and roughly combed through the tangled hair.

I lowered my head, trying to disguise the pounding of my heart.

Jude the Wizard: “Pfft, Why’re you blushing so much? You really are a child.”

Far from getting used to this arrogant sadist, I was starting to feel a little attracted to him.

(This is phenomenon where the victim falls in love with the kidnapper.)

(It’s not love…yeah.)

Kate: “Mr. Jude, you didn’t come out of the study again yesterday, did you? Are you sleeping properly?”

Jude the Wizard: “Heh, I just called you a child and you’re worried about me.”

Jude the Wizard: “Let’s wait until you fix your bed head and are able to say hello in the morning, princess.”

Kate: “What…”

A finger flicked my forehead, causing pain.

Jude the Wizard: “You like pain, don’t you?”

His lips curve in a mocking manner, almost catching my eye, and I look away.

Kate: “I really don’t like it…now, will you please lift the curse today.”

Jude the Wizard: “I’ll think about it when I’ve had a good day.”

Kate: “Didn’t you say the same thing yesterday?”

Jude the Wizard: “Ah-ah, yapping and biting me, today is a bad day too.”

Jude laughed at my plea and went out as usual.

Time passes without mercy, without any success in lifting the curse of finding what is missing in this world—.

(Jude…?)

In the middle of one night, I felt that Jude had returned after being out for an unusually long time, and when I peeked out from the library,

Jude’s back was just about to disappear into the study.

There were some spots left on the carpet—.

(Is that…blood?)

A shiver ran down my spine and I ran to the study, unable to sit still.

Kate: “Jude… are you hurt?”

Jude the Wizard: “… I told you not to enter this room without permission, didn’t I?”

Jude the Wizard: “It’s not a big injury, just get out of here.”

Kate: “Even if it’s not a big injury, you don’t leave the injured alone. You help and treat them.”

When I forced myself to walk over to him, I saw a pile of papers and documents piled up on the desk.

Kate: “…What on earth are you researching while holed up in your study every night?”

Kate: “It’s why you went out tonight, isn’t it…?”

Jude the Wizard: “…What would you do if I said yes?”

Kate: “If you keep doing this, your body will shut down.”

Kate: “Risking your life for the sake of a promise… it’s just like you.”

Jude the Wizard: “…What?”

Kate: “—It’s like you’re the one who’s cursed.”

Jude the Wizard: “Hah… you say that.”

A hand wraps around my throat, like a snake coiled around me.

I’m cursed by this man—He holds my life in his hands. This is a reminder of that.

Kate: “ngh…ha….rgh”

The tightness of the collar is loosened and my breathing increases.

Jude the Wizard: “I’ve lived a long life, and I’d love nothing more than to be cursed to death by a stupid promise.”

Jude the Wizard: “Don’t worry about me, take it easy—tomorrow you’re destined to fall into a deep sleep, just as you were cursed to do,”

Jude the Wizard: “You forgot, right?”

Jude the Wizard: “If you don’t want to get your head blown off right now, go back to your room, princess.”

The door closes in front of me with a loud bang.

Yes, I realized my birthday –tomorrow—was fast approaching.

(If this continues, I will fall into a 100-year slumber, as per my curse.)

(I still don’t know anything about why I was cursed by Jude, or what is missing in this world…)

As I was suffering from anxiety and unable to sleep, the sound of glass breaking filled my ears.

(Someone attacked again…?)

I’ve gotten used to the sound by now, but—today I feel especially uneasy.

(I hear more people’s voices and footsteps than usual.)

(Ellis is staying the night away to go shopping in the town at the foot of the mountain—and)

(Jude is injured tonight.)

Kate: “…mm”

I hurriedly jumped out of my bed and headed out into the hallway.

Jude the Wizard: “Tch… Why are you here? Go to sleep.”

Kate: “With this noise? Please don’t be unreasonable…”

Soldier: “Miss Kate!”

(--Are these people from the national army!?)

Kate: “Why… I’ve told my father that I’m okay…!”

Soldier: “The deadline of your curse is already approaching tomorrow.”

Soldier: “He wishes to see your face for a second before then, and I have been ordered to take you home!”

(My father…)

Jude the Wizard: “—I’m sorry, but the princess won’t be going home.”

Jude pushes me behind him with one arm, trying to hide me from the soldiers downstairs.

Kate: “Jude? If you do something like this, you’ll be treated as a traitor and you’ll be targeted even more than you already are…”

Jude the Wizard: “Ha, I don’t need you to worry. Besides, if you go back to the castle now, you’ll die.”

Kate: “Wha…?”

(What do you mean…? The curse that’s triggered by being pricked by a spinning wheel is supposed to cause a person to sleep for 100 years.)

But now, Jude clearly said, ‘I’ll die.’

Kate: “Aside from the curse, are you saying that there’s something that would cause me to die…?”

Jude the Wizard: “…haah. The doctors in the royal castle are really incompetent.”

At that moment, I saw a flaming arrow flying towards Jude--.

Kate: “…watch out…!”

Jude the Wizard: “!?”

Immediately moving to cover him, I lost my balance,

Jude the Wizard: “…Kate!”

--and fell headlong down the stairs.

When I landed—I was in the arms of a soldier sent by my father.

Soldier: “Miss Kate! Are you okay!?”

Kate: “Jude…!?”

When I looked up, a soldier had taken advantage of my falling and pinned Jude down.

Jude the Wizard: “Shit… What are you falling for? Are you stupid?”

Kate: “…ngh, Please! That person is injured… please don’t be rough!”

Soldier: “He will be taken into custody by the national army on charges of abducting and confining the princess.”

Kate: “Wait, please…Listen to me--!”

There was no way my voice would be heard…and we were transported to the royal castle in separate carriages.

(What should I do… Jude was arrested because of me.)

From what I read in the books, I’ve got a good idea of how wizards are treated.

Instead of having the crime overlooked, he will be forced to work to protect the country and attack the enemy.

(Jude still has a promise he wants to fulfill…)

--“Even if I die, I won’t break my promise.”

Kate: “…?”

I thought I heard someone’s voice, and right after that the world around me became distorted.

(Ah…? I think I hit my head earlier--)

I closed my eyes tightly until the dizziness subsided, and when I opened them, I saw--.

An unfamiliar back alley.

Kate: “…what, where…?”

I don’t know why, but the image reflected in the mirror is that of a young girl. She looks to be about ten years old or so.

(Is that…me when I was younger?)

I was wearing a pretty, expensive-looking dress, so it didn’t appear as though I was living in England.

At that moment—I heard the yelling of several adults from across the alley.

Male voice: “Catch him! Catch him alive!”

Male voice: “This… took so much time and effort, but finally--!”

When I looked out of the alley, I saw a boy around the same age as me being chased by adults.

He was covered in scars, but his eyes were burning fiercely as if he hated everything in this world.

The child almost passed in front of the alley where I was--.

Kate: “…Hide—”

Boy: “Wha!?”

I couldn’t help but pull him in.

Hiding behind a wooden box, I hear the heavy footsteps of adults moving away, and I breathe a sigh of relief.

Kate: “…It seems like they’re gone. Why were you being chased? Are you hurt--?”

Boy: “…You don’t know who I am. I’m sure I’m wanted all over the country.”

Kate: “Really? How could such a small child…”

Boy: “Small child, you’re about the same age right?”

(Ah…Maybe--)

Kate: “Can you use magic?”

Boy: “—what if I could?”

I could clearly feel his apprehension rising.

It was said “Wizard children are sometimes put on a wanted list in order to keep them around as a valuable asset.”,

I remembered that heartless sentence.

Kate: “I won’t capture you, so don’t worry.”

Boy: “…ha, I doubt that. You look like an aristocrat or a member of the royal family. I can’t trust someone with a lot of money and power.”

Kate: “It’s true! …you were put on the wanted list even though you’re innocent,”

Kate: “It’s absolutely unfair to have your life threatened or your freedom taken away…!”

It reminds me how Jude was attacked almost every day in that castle deep in the mountains.

Before I knew it, the words were pouring out, letting out the frustration that had built up during the days I spent in that castle.

Kate: “Ah… I’m sorry, I just had to say that out loud.”

Boy: “Haha, why are you apologizing to me? No problem, I agree with you.”

Boy: “… your face doesn’t seem like it can tell a lie.”

Boy: “It would make you an evil person to get the bounty through deception, and you don’t seem to have the ability to use your wit—ah?”

Boy: “Hey, show me your face.”

Kate: “Eh? I—”

The boy pulled my face closer to his and looked into my eyes, squinting as if searching for something.

(Cold… but beautiful eyes.)

Boy: “Tsk… Why do people like you end up with such a disease.”

Kate: “Disease…?”

Boy: “You have about ten years left.”

Kate: “Eh, what…!? Does that mean I’ll die in ten years…!?”

Boy: “I won’t let you die, as I owe you my life.”

Boy: “Ten years from now, before you die, I’ll stop time.”

Boy: “I don’t know how many years it will take to find a cure, but I think 100 years will be enough.”

Kate: “Wait…What do you mean?”

Boy: “You’re a dull princess. I’m trying to help you and you’re crying and screaming as thanks.”

Boy: “Even if I die, I won’t break my promise.”

A finger poked me in the forehead.

Boy: “Ten years from now—you’ll prick your finger on a spinning wheel and fall into a 100-year sleep.”

Kate: “W-why do I have to get priced by a spinning wheel…?”

Boy: “Because it looks like that, I don’t know. And you—you seem to like pain.”

A mocking, arrogant smile appeared on his thin lips, and I was taken aback.

Kate: “—You and I, have we met somewhere…?”

--The next thing I knew, I was being rocked by the carriage that I’d been pushed into by the soldiers of the national army.

(Just now… for a dream, it felt extremely vivid.)

I could still clearly feel the touch of his fingertip on my forehead.

“Time is no irreversible, and space is not absolute. Past and future, and other worlds can be connected.”

(The past and present are connected…?)

I was in England, came to this world—and now I made a promise with Jude from the past.

The idea was so farfetched, but the dots were connected and it emerged as the truth.

Kate: “Now, Jude is being held prisoner—The curse, the promise is…”

Kate: “That promise you just made with me…?”

--Flashback—

King: “…You got into a fight with me that night, and you snuck out of the castle. Then, you lost consciousness and collapsed in a back alley.”

--End Flashback—

When I think about it, I can understand why I have no memory of that time.

I met Jude in the back alley because that’s who I am now.

When I came to this world, I made a promise with Jude from the past.

So, before I met Jude from the past, I had no memories of him.

(Still… I didn’t think of the curse as something to be afraid of.)

(Jude didn’t curse me because of a grudge.)

(It was to buy time to find a cure for me.)

In other words, as per the curse, I have to pricked by the spinning wheel.

A sleep to stop death, to fulfill his promise.

Kate: “The spinning wheel…”

Kate: “I have to find the spinning wheel—”

Prologue | Part 1 | Part 2 | Bitter End | Premium End | Epilogue

#ikemen villains #ikevil #ikemen villains translation #ikevil translation #jude jazza #ikevil jude #ikevil jude jazza #ikemen villains jude #ikemen villains jude jazza #tw: blood

[cosmicjoke]

Continuing on in my re-read of “The Vampire Lestat”, and it struck me, again, how all of Lestat’s experiences and interactions throughout the ten years before he meets Louis ends up impacting how he behaves with Louis.  The end of Marius’ story, as he tells it to Lestat, finally concluding with these quotes:

“Harken to me when I say:  There has never been a just place for evil in the Western world.  There has never been an easy accommodation of death.”

“What can I say finally that will not confirm your worst fears?  I have lived over eighteen hundred years, and I tell you life does not need us.  I have never had a true purpose.  We have no place.”

Lestat sought Marius specifically in the hopes of finding some way for him to move and exist and live among humanity still.  Marius had seemed to him, from Armand’s story, like an enlightened being among their kind, someone who could show him how to again find meaning in his existence, to do and be good, despite what he now was.  And as the situation with Gabrielle continued to deteriorate, as they grew further and further apart, Lestat more and more hinged his hopes on finding Marius and discovering some great secret that would help him to better exist as and accept being a vampire.

But then Marius drops that bomb on him, essentially shattering his hopes of there being some way for him to still be part of the mortal world, to still be the good man he always dreamed of being.  After all, if Marius, a vampire who’s been alive for nearly 2000 years at this point, has found no purpose and no real way to feel like he belongs to the human world, then what hope does Lestat have, who’s been a vampire for only ten years?

Now think about Lestat bringing this new found crushed hope into the situation with Louis, when it had been the only real thing sustaining Lestat up to then, the only thing he’d really had to cling to in hope.  And then think about Louis’ persistent questioning and agonizing over their seemingly evil nature, his constant pestering of Lestat for answers as to what they are, why they exist, where they come from.  Lestat knows where they come from, he’s heard the story of Akasha and Enkil, though he isn’t able or allowed to tell Louis of it.  But even if he could, why would he want to?  Given how learning of these things from Marius only lead to him realizing there is no special meaning or purpose to their existence, that they’re just these supposedly evil creatures with no place or reason for being in the world, and given Louis’ agonizing over that very question, his misery in being what he is, his depression over it and seeming inability to accept it or embrace it for fear of its meaninglessness, Lestat must have felt sure that revealing the answers Louis sought would only plunge him deeper into depression.  And again Lestat’s had about the worst experience a person can have, watching a person he loved sink into irretrievable grief and depression.  Lestat had to have thought that telling Louis what he knew at that point would only risk Louis trying to kill himself for real, or falling into a state of catatonic despair, the same as Nicki had. 

Compounding it would be Lestat’s own misery at having to accept the knowledge he’s learned from Marius, his own dashed hopes in the apparent futility of finding any purpose or place in the world.  Each time Louis questioned Lestat on these things, showed his own grief and misery over their nature and the horror of it, had to serve as a reminder of Lestat’s own misery and grief.  A constant reminder that he couldn’t get away from, no matter how much he tried to escape it by leaning into his vampiric nature.  His impatience and frustration with Louis, and seeming insensitivity to his struggles, makes way more sense within the context of all this.  Lestat had to have figured, well, if there’s no reason for our existence, and no way for me to live among humanity and still find a way to do good, I might as well embrace fully the evil nature of what I am and just go with it.  That is, after all, one of Lestat’s defining traits.  A great strength and ability to endure, an ability to adapt, even if he suffers through it.  But, again, with Louis’ depression and sadness over it all, it wouldn’t allow Lestat to ignore his own similar feelings, and unfortunately, that manifested in the form of anger and aggression and impatience aimed at Louis, and then later Claudia. 

#The Vampire Lestat #Lestat De Lioncourt #louis de pointe du lac #marius de romanus #the vampire chronicles

[alienssstufff]

Hello! Could you tell me more about Charlie being a heart player in your Homestuck AU? I'm really interested to see your thought process ahuu (P.S. LOVE YOUR ART IT'S ADORABLE!!! 💖💫)

Sure! I've already spoken about him HERE though consider this current ask as a deeper dive now that we know more about him.

SLIME AND THE HEART ASPECT

To define: the Heart aspect concerns itself with identity and emotional intuition, and how one views themselves. Ironically enough Heart concerns with the mind itself in contrast to its opposite the Mind that deals with rational thinking, and the persona that one consciously puts on for the world. Wwhwh which is why I like comparing q!Slime (heart-player) and q!Quackity (mind-player) so much because while they are in ways similar, their places of concern are very different.

"They simply want to understand the one thing we all are stuck with for our entire lives, i.e. our own minds." -- Hiveswap Extended Zodiac

About Slime he's a very emotionally driven person with everything he does he puts his all into it, and those motivations often originate from how he feels about the situation. Big examples being HIS love for his daughter, HIS resentment for his wife back during the trial, and while these motivations involve other people. If it weren't for any outside intervention, a lot of the decisions he makes are absolute, thinking if he were to do things like kill the other eggs out of love and sacrifice q!Mariana because he couldn't forgive what she did, not to mention send HIMSELF into eggxile because he hates himself - that these solutions were his only way out. His determination is both his strength and his flaw in the sense his thinking can be so clouded by the one emotion - and that's what makes him such a Heart-player.

"Forging an identity is extremely important to the Heart-bound, and every decision and action goes toward building a coherent narrative of their own story." - Hiveswap Extended Zodiac

A/N: these next parts as go more in depth about Slime and relationships with other people with a dash of classpect lingo in there. The answer is above you, you do not need to read anything below ToT [ more undercut ]

Other than his emotions, identity (like Heart-players do) to Slime's character is also very important when thinking about him and the problems that stem from his self-image. It is the reason why Gegg exists to Slime as this separate entity - similar to what splinters are to Dirk Strider, Gegg is a division of Slime. I've spoken about Gegg and Slime's roles in under THIS thread, an extract:

Gegg is not only a coping mechanism but the part of him that still wishes to be loved- and when he is it’s addicting but it comes at a price for his honesty (and his literal voice). When he is Gegg there is a unique way he carries himself - he’s confident, ambitious, and a little silly the kind of thing that draws everyone near and he does so because he’s new. Charlie has messed up so many times he feels like a lost cause, and becoming Gegg exists as his second shot at life crime-free. Gegg is the part of Slime that embodies his desires, and Charlie is the part that represents what he believes he needs…. Or smth like that.

SLIME AND THE HEIR CLASS

(debunk) Alternatively Slime could also be a Prince of Heart (one that destroys the self) though based on peer review on that classpect's goals, I feel pinning Slime's goal as 'destroying heart' is a little too morbid for his story. Mind, you being a Prince of Heart isn't completely a BAD thing - I just don't feel destruction of heart is neither the right message or answer for Slime's problems. Furthermore, Slime does not ghost his opposing aspect (Mind) like the prince class usually does, Slime is NOT a rational thinker -- he is moved by the heart more than anything. A/N: 'ghosting' in classpect terms means to appear as the player's opposing aspect on surface level. Eg from the surface Dirk elicits Mind characteristics when in reality he is Heart. (LOL I just learnt what this was today)

Which leads to Slime's association as an Heir of Heart instead. This is the ability to invite the manipulation of the heart, and in other words quite literally become their aspect (yknow typical Slimecicle PC behaviour).

Slime being an Heir of Heart means he is easily swayed by his emotion as it changes constantly to new situations like from the Trial, to Eggxile, to the Elections and so on. He is also very empathetic to others and it is the way that he cares about them is what influences the choices he makes based on what HE thinks is best for the situation NOT because someone else told him to.

Notes from outside sources: "An Heir of Heart would have an amazingly well developed sense of compassion and empathy, and in fact may find it hard not to empathize with even the most evil and hurtful of people." -dahniwitchoflight This part connects especially to his friendship with Quackity (both of them), that while he was suspicious of his intentions throughout the debate Slime still sympathises with Quackity because he is his friend and the history they share goes too deep to abandon (psycho4psycho solidarity). Same goes for Slime and q!Foolish during the election debates. He doesn't hold any grudges for him when he understands that his apprehension stems from fear (something Slime has felt many times before).

"ASURA: The Heir of Heart is naturally protected by their splinters. The Heir’s splinters would exist as unruly spirit-like guardians who look out for them. In times of need the Heir can make physical manifestations of their splinters" - creative-classpect I absolutely love this take on splinters and heirs! Especially with Gegg in a way he to Slime acts as a guardian Slime will turn to him on the defensive. Honestly the ideal relationship between Slime and Gegg we might not ever see u_u

"The Heir of Heart is one who inspires change in the emotions and souls of others. They cause people’s emotional state to change for the better. Bringing out good emotions and allowing people to express their inner and true selves." - classpector

Looking more into Gegg's story during the Election arc we see examples of this power through his debates. His speeches inspiring change and consolation amongst other candidate runners to rally against the Federation. Yet at the same time these speeches can evoke fear, bringing out their true nature - like Foolish trying to shoot him, ElQuackity despite being a political rival instinctually diving to protect Gegg, influence on q!BBH to push through his paranoia and support Gegg while he was still in the running thus making that care package. Gegg was able to inspire those around him, and in the long run inspire Slime to one day love and accept every part of himself.

DAPDUO and Psicologoier Therapy Session: An interaction I think often about being the interaction between Slime and q!Roier (Melissa) during the therapy session with Quackity and how well it represents the difference in interactions between two Heart-players (Heir and Witch) and also how well it's a juxtaposition on where these two characters are in life despite having the same aspect. [You can read about q!Roier's classpect HERE]

QUACKITY: Well maybe her (Melissa) more than anybody can understand us. SLIME: Melissa, do you ever think feel like you wanna be someone else? MELISSA: No :3 SLIME: Do you ever wish that you could ever get a fresh start? MELISSA: No ^_^ SLIME: Do you ever think you could be sexy Peter Griffin? I do... MELISSA: Nope! x]c SLIME: Do you ever feel like everyone hates you - because everyone like tells you that they hate you no matter who you try to be it's always wrong? MELISSA: Hm actually! Nope! :D

On one hand for personas such as Melissa, Roier is very attuned to them and works alongside them - whilst with Slime and Gegg it was a constant struggle to maintain control and cooperation until the very end as there were characteristics in both Gegg and Slime that Slime was struggling to accept.

SLIME: WELL MY HOUSE WAS ALREADY ROBBED. I GOT ROBBED OF A DAUGHTER. SO NOW I TRY TO FIND MEANING IN ANYWAY I CAN AND RIGHT NOW THATS FUCKING GEGG. SO IM SORRY IF IM NOT THE SON YOU WANTED ME TO BE!

SLIME: Everyone hates me. Every single person on the server I tried I tried and they all hate Gegg.

Oh shit and also:

SLIME: But... What if there's a chance Gegg really could make a friend, and that takes it away? QUACKITY: Gegg has one friend already - Quackity. SLIME: Then Gegg... Will help the friend that loves Gegg.

Evidence that as a Heir of Heart Slime's emotions can be easily swayed. This comes up again after the QSMP Dinner with ElQuackity showing the difference between the motivations between someone of Heart and someone of Mind who recognises the vulnerability of Heart.

I'm sure there's more things to unpack with that session, not just for Slime but for Quackity and Roier as well and 100% recommend watching it for yourself. Grabbed these from the QuackitytooVODS channel and the session starts at the 1:01:50 mark.

Did an analysis on Dapduo in THIS ask which while doesn't reference classpects it alludes to their dynamic as Heart and Mind.

If you made it this far: congratulations. I'm so sorry.

#ask stufff #stufff rambles #(like a lot. be careful) #slimecicle #classpect #qsmp #qsmpblr #insanely long maybe I'll draw a picture for your troubles one day my bad XP #i love qSlime a lot ok

[torubeth]

suna rintarou headcanons

why, you ask…cuz i miss him. and i’m not doing so well after dat one shot. honestly idek wat dis is, jus stuff which i wholeheartedly believe ig ? :>

love language : physical touch. his hands are always hanging around your waist or thighs. subtle touches and small kisses from him are everybody’s essentials.

favorite places to kiss : literally everywhere but mostly on the neck, nose, lips, thighs, shoulder and did i say neck ?

nicknames he’d call you : angel, princess, baby, babe and he’s definitely the type to call you cringe names just to piss you off.

his type : he’d go for anyone. that’s it. all he needs is someone who’ll match his vibe, someone who’ll understand him. the quirky, cocky, sarcastic, daredevil personality is his top tier. although he finds the quiet ones cute. at the end of the day, anyone. (cuz y’all are jus *chefs kiss*!!)

you’re gonna tell me the guy’s a smoker ? yeah no. he’s the cool guy who declines it whenever he’s offered.

the type of person to think that making cereal is a talent. and honestly, i agree with him.

his camera roll is full of pictures and videos. of you. the storage definitely exceeded its limit, and he has to upgrade it but he just believes that no storage can contain all the stuff because he’ll just keep on taking them. with no regrets.

his playlist : the type of playlist that gets you hooked from song one. he’d have banger songs. mostly underrated ones. slowed version ? yes, slowed version. it’s his thing. and your playlist is on repeat and oh, y’all’s spotify blend ? constantly played it’s illegal.

he’s a tsundere. not that he isn’t all olaf around the team and your friends. as soon as it’s just the two of you, he’s putty in your hands. absolutely, devastatingly adorable. so very soft, and he sleep mumbles, not sleep talk. every time you thread your fingers through his hair, your voice nothing more than a whisper, his thoughts pour out like rain. it ranges from ‘i’m so lucky to have you baby’ ; ‘fuck, you’re beautiful you know that ?’ ; ‘you have really soft hands’ ; ‘i could stare at you all day- no, forever and never get bored’ to ‘for some odd ass reason, i ship our history teacher and chemistry teacher. do you ?’ ; ‘baby, dick has so many synonyms, i’m jealous’ ; ‘atsumu and osamu fighting is like two gorillas competing for a rotten ass banana’. he’s a talker only around you, and you could listen to him all day, everyday.

if you’re the type to throw on mismatched socks, don’t worry, he does too, we don’t judge here. ‘socks is socks right ?’ he quotes.

sneaky kisses are his favorite. skipping practice to go make out with you ? sign him up.

kisses with him aren’t rushed. it’s the one where each kiss has a very deep meaning to it. like he wants you to know what he’s thinking.

is such a fucking tease, it’s frustrating. but is also the one who’s very needy for your attention. see how the tables turn ?

bullying atsumu about him being single is something you’ve both found amusement in.

midnight drives ? midnight drives. he’ll text you around the wee hours of the morning and ask you to join him for a drive, which you obviously don’t decline. playlist blasting in the back, your head hanging out the rolled down window, screaming the lyrics to your favorite song. cheap store candy wrappers are everywhere, a bottle of water, for which the cap’s already missing and you’re both arguing on who has lost it, the small engine sounds in the background. one more memory added to the album in his storage.

walking home from school, he likes to take the long route so he could be with you just a bit longer. hands intertwined, kicking small rocks and pebbles which is in his path, ears on alert, always listening to you, the quietness of the evening is all something he wouldn’t trade for the world.

conclusion : an amazing boyfriend, amazing human being, who i’m very pissed isn’t existing in this world.

#haikyuu!! #haikyuu fluff #haikyuu x reader #suna x reader fluff #suna rintarou #suna rintarou x reader #suna fluff #suna rintarou fluff #suna headcanons #suna rinatro #suna x y/n

[world-smitten]

See You In My 19th Life pre finale thoughts

I was not planning on watching this show, but I'm having a Shin Hye-sun moment, thanks to her absolute brilliance in Stranger. This show has grown on me like a weed, so here we are 🥲. Spoilers!

Age IS problematic in Ji-eum's and Seo-ha's relationship - not in the sense of the 1000 year old spirit falling for a 10 year old boy, but in the sense of someone who gains awareness of their soul's immortality at the ripe old age of 9. That's an essential tension in the show's depiction of past lives - asking what happens to a child who gains this knowledge, especially if that child is vulnerable. Rich, cherished 12 year old Jo-won reacts to this knowledge by running straight into her mother's arms; poor and neglected 9 year old Ji-eum immediately thinks to hustle her way out of poverty, driven by memories of a happier past life where the love around her sustained her childhood until her death. The young actresses - who perform and are directed wonderfully - don't play her as an adult in a child's body, but as a child translating ageless knowledge through their intrinsically childish filter. Her love of Seo-ha is equal parts endearing and disturbing for this reason - memories of loving him in a happier past life are impressed on a 9 year old child, who then devotes herself to becoming the kind of woman who can stand by his side, who can protect and care for him. And in order to do this, she has to be "successful"; therefore, her fixation on reuninting with him is tangled up in her desperate attempts to escape poverty and neglect. Which is why I'm OBSESSED with Shin Hye-sun's performance. A lot of people have already picked up on Ji-eum's general weirdness - what I love is the calculated poise of her body language, as if she's crafting herself into the picture of dignity in direct reaction to the indignity of her early childhood. There's one moment I'm obsessed with in episode 8, where she bumps heads with Seo-ha and she's in pain...but then she bounces back, asking him if he's okay, refusing to show him any vulnerability. This is also why I love that the writing forces her family into Seo-ha's path - he meets her brother, her father, he learns the role they played in Ju-won's murder; he sees this painful, messy side of her too. This really endears me to their romance - it's melancholic and twisted, but I want them to find happiness in their sad little love story.

SYIM9L is very ambitious for a 12-episode show - different plotlines with different emotional tenors all existing in increasing dissonance with each other. Less is more, I think. The story about child murder is awkwardly triangulating with the story about fated love, and the outcome reads clumsy. Poor Min-gi. A love triangle that is constantly perpetuating itself across different lives might be fascinating in itself - but if the show wanted to place Ji-eum/Seo-ha in a story of past histories/fate/free-will, it...was already doing that? The murder mystery is a story of parents devouring their children - one father attempts to kill his son (allegedly), another unwittingly kills his daughter in another life. And these choices, made before either were born, play a role in how Seo-ha and Ji-eum relate to one another. Personally, i don't think she chose to pursue him, I think it was an inescapable compulsion because she was desperate and she was NINE. The concept of free will is invariably complicated because the character making the choices was a vulnerable child. Episode 8 has been the high point for me, because it touches on the helplessness felt when you realise how deeply the adults in your life have let you down; by externalising that helplessness via reincarnation (your daughter's soul is the soul of a child you murdered - your father killed you in a past life for money), it feels all the more raw and upsetting. I just find it more compelling than whatever is going on with their first-lives.

Ha Yoon-kyung's cuteness has the precision and potency of a long-range ballistic missile. Love you queen.

#see you in my 19th life #shin hye sun #kdrama #quick thoughts

[lavandaea]

BEGONIA WARNING I REPEAT BEGONIA WARNING.

The flowers that Seok Hoon gave to Do Hee are Begonias and I have some shits to say about it. Adding the fact that flowers are not in kdramas just to look pretty.

Begonias can mean gratitude for something, uniqueness and individuality, and justice and peace. But among those beautiful meanings there are others that interest us.

Warning about misfortune: Begonia flowers can be used to warn someone about dangers that are about to occur.

What was what the lady said?

"Good time are always excruciatingly short" 😐

And whatever the crazy family is plotting against her. It can't be her death. That's already a knowing threat so it wouldn't have such an impact for both on viewers and her. It has to be something more nastier and evil like them. They were talking about it before and on the wedding table. I'm just sure it's a separate thing from the guy trying to kill her and his boss.

You can also give the Begonia flower to someone who has been injured or suffered some type of accident.

Like waking up hanging off your balcony.

Be cautious: Begonias can also be given to someone who is taking a trip or planning some type of potentially dangerous activity.

Like solving a murder, catching a culprit, casually existing while all your "family" wants you underground, you know, the usual.

Dark thoughts: Begonias are also related to dark thoughts. This symbolism comes from the fact that begonias are also linked to warning signs and caution. In any case, they are not surrounded by very positive energy, at least in some cultures.

👍.

That was all I needed to know. Seok Hoon, the language of flowers never lies, go to the police and do some confessions. You seem like you need it.

Why would he do it, tho?

Why would he be trying to kill Do Hee?

Did he really kill Miss Ju?

The family is already on something by themselves. And if he wants to kill her, it would only benefit the older of the family. Not him. And this kind of villain does not fit in the sidekick position.

•So, he is not looking after the president's position.

•He doesn't need money. He has a good financial position being so young as we see in the newspaper Gu won was reading.

BUT

If he did kill Miss Ju and she is looking after the culprit it would make sense he sent someone after her while at the same time he could be right beside her, with her trust on him, to know if she is getting closer or further.

Still that doesn't solve the main question.

Why would he kill his aunt?

As I said, he doesn't seem to need or want the power that would come with the president's position. And that's the main reason why all her family waited for her death.

To create caos? To distract everyone while he does his own thing?

I don't know.

I need to know.

And Fridays are suddenly so far away every week that is actually killing me.

#kim yoo jung #do do hee #my demon #lee sang yi #seok hoon #netflix kdrama

[heyclickadee]

Tech’s Alive, Part 6: The Matter of Weight (cw for discussions of death, suicide mention, genocide mention)

AKA, why “Tech should stay dead for the stakes” and “Tech should stay dead so the moment he sacrifices himself retains its weight” are arguments I will not be entertaining in this household. And by this household, I mean my blog. But also probably my actual apartment here in real space.

So, this isn’t really an argument for why Tech is alive, per se. It’s more just me trying to counter the two most common arguments I see people making for why he should be dead, whether the person making the argument thinks he’s dead or not.

Stakes:

The first argument, that Tech should stay dead for the sake of the “stakes” is, to me, the most nebulous. On this here interwebs we tend to talk about “stakes” purely in the negative; everyone’s going to die, the villains are going to win, everything is going to be sad forever, etc. But stakes in a story are really just about potential consequences—what could happen if the characters succeed, and what could happen if they fail. And while it’s true that killing a character can raise the stakes in a story, it’s best accomplished by killing off a secondary character, and it can really only raise them in a story in which death was never a potential consequence.

Death has always been a potential consequence for these characters, not just for failure, but just for existing in the world in which they live. Scratch that, dying is quite literally what they were made to do. This is a series in which two genocides have already taken place—that of the Jedi, then of the Kaminoans—and which has us watching a third ongoing—that of the clones themselves. Almost every new named clone we’ve met has died, and died violently. The clone force 99 characters have all almost died about once an episode so far, and every time they do, the show tends to treat it as a serious close call.

So killing off Tech doesn’t raise the potential consequences of failure to “death” because that potential was always there. Killing off a secondary but known clone character like, say, Howser could have made heightened that risk more effectively. Heck, Mayday’s death does a better job of raising that risk for Crosshair, for example; the only reason Crosshair wasn’t the one who died in the avalanche was was because Mayday noticed the rock and pushed Crosshair out of the way. Killing off Tech and leaving him dead, by contrast, would actually, in a way, lower the stakes—because, again, the risk of “potential consequences” is gone (it’s just reality now), AND stakes are also about what could happen if the characters succeed and get what they want. Meaning that if Tech’s gone for good, the potential positive consequences are much, much lower. The positive consequence of the clone force 99 family reuniting—the thing the story keeps making us want—would just be gone. There’s only so far you can ratchet the spring of tension before it snaps.

That said, when some people argue for Tech’s death in favor of raised stakes, I don’t think the above is really what they’re talking about. They’re mostly making a somewhat edgelordy argument about death needing to feel real in the star war and darkness being the “mature” option. Let’s say I bought that argument. Let’s say I actually thought “the reality of death” and “maturity” were valid reasons to kill off a main character. Let’s even push aside all the reasons why I think killing off any one of the bad batchers permanently would break the story. Let’s do this thought experiment. Killing off Tech in this season and leaving him dead still doesn’t work, specifically because so much time this season was spent on developing and helping the other characters to understand him better.

You can spend time building up a character and developing them for the sole purpose of killing them and giving them a send-off if your show has an unserialized format. Think Gray’s Anatomy or Bones; unserialized shows are just taking the characters and putting them in different combinations or scenarios until the end of time without really worrying about arcs or narrative threads, so in that format spending time with a character before killing them off makes sense. Spending an entire season of a serialized show building up a character and their relationships, using them to develop certain themes and narrative threads, using them to push certain parts of the plot forward, and then killing them off in which a way which does nothing to resolve any of those arcs, themes, or narrative threads, though? That’s just a waste of time. Of limited time—because fully serialized shows have an ending. I’d be more willing to buy into this line of argument if it was Wrecker, not Tech, simply because he hasn’t had the kind of development Tech has.

Don’t get me wrong, I’d still absolutely hate it and would see perma-deathing Wrecker as just as story breaking as perma-deathing Tech. But if we’re doing the thought experiment where I’m talking about stakes the way some people seem to be doing, I could see it working better in that context than perma-deathing Tech. People can make that argument about Tech’s “death,” sure, but what they’re really advocating for is bad writing. And hey! Maybe we’ll get to the end of the show and it will turn out to have been badly written! I just…don’t really buy that right now.

(Of course, this is all moot anyway, because I fundamentally disagree with the definition of stakes being used by some people making this argument and see this line of thinking as somewhat edgelordy bologna anyway. But! Moving on.)

Wanting Tech’s Sacrifice to Have Weight:

So, I’m more sympathetic to this line of thinking. I don’t agree with it, but I can kind of respect where it’s coming from. I’ve mostly seen this from people who really hate the idea that Tech is dead, but don’t see a way for the moment in which Tech sacrifices himself to maintain its emotional weight if it turns out he’s alive, and who want the writers to respect Tech’s choice. And I get that. I’ve watched more than one show that had some big emotional moment that got completely ruined by being undone or having some other development come up later on. So it’s not that I think this argument is invalid; I just don’t think it applies in this specific case.

Because…okay, first, when it comes to the writers respecting Tech’s choice, I want us to think really hard about what he’s choosing to do. Because he’s not choosing to die. Not exactly. He’s choosing to do something extremely risky that will probably get him killed, and he knows it, in order to save his family. And I know it maybe doesn’t seem like there’s a distinction there, but there is one, and it’s important, because—I mean—listen to that last heavy sigh he gives before his last line. He doesn’t want to do it. He doesn’t want to die. He just doesn’t see any way out for the others if he doesn’t risk it. (Also I feel like the “the writers need to respect his choice argument” really kind of…not…real great bad, actually, it’s real bad guys, even if he was choosing to die, specifically, because that’s way too close to advocating for suicide for comfort. I don’t think that’s what anyone is intending by this argument but….)

Second, I don’t agree that Tech’s “death” is what gives that moment its emotional weight. Let’s say that Tech does die here. Let’s say he really isn’t coming back. In that case, his death is kind of meaningless, because he was going to die anyway. If we’re saying he died, then it was either all of them die, or just him. Which means that the thing that gives that moment weight can’t be his death, because he had no way out of dying, if we’re looking at it that way and accepting that he’s just gone for good.

The thing that gives that moment weight—just a warning, I’m about to get tooth-achingly schmaltzy here, and I’m not sorry—is love. It’s everyone in the batch’s love for Tech shattering into a million little pieces of grief and horror as they watch him fall. It’s Tech loving his family so damn much he refuses to even consider letting them fall with him. It’s Tech, not knowing that he’s a character in a story, looking at the situation, knowing what he’s about to do will probably kill him—because if he wasn’t a character in a story, it probably would—knowing that if he does it he’ll probably never see Crosshair again, never see Echo or Hunter at peace, never get to hear Wrecker laugh again, never get to see Omega grow up, and still choosing to take the fall for them because there’s no chance he’d let them take the same risk. That’s why that moment has meaning. And because that’s where the meaning comes from, I can’t see how that meaning or weight would evaporate if he came back.

I mean—let’s say you were waking down the street with a friend. You step out in front of a bus, purely by accident. Your friend notices and pushes you out of the way, and in so doing steps in front of the bus, gets hit, and miraculously survives. Does their survival do anything to decrease the fact that they were willing to get hit by a bus for you? Are we really going to argue “death, or it doesn’t count” when it comes to self-sacrifice?

Furthermore, the “Tech has to stay dead for his sacrifice to have weight” argument seems to be made at least partly from the point of view that “dead” and “fully abled” are the only two options. They’re not. Other people have covered the possibility that Tech will come back with a physical disability that he has to adjust to way better than I ever could, but that’s a very real consequence the show could deal with.

I don’t really have a conclusion to this. Basically, while I have seen the stakes and weight arguments floating around, I don’t really see either of them as valid narrative arguments for keeping Tech dead, and I wanted to explain why.

#the bad batch #tbb spoilers #the bad batch speculation #sort of #tech’salive #tech’saliveseries #ya thought you were rid of me #something something bad penny #if this reads #like it was typed in a frenzy during my lunch break #that’s because it was #cw death #cw suicide mention #cw genocide mention

[assmuncher27]

mainly directed to thesquirrelqueer so my bad that i start using “you” and “your” 💀💀💀💀but this is also clarifying stuff about the two river bootleg causs its getting fustrating

not trying to b a dick on purpose but oh my god this fandom is making me kinda insane. also really really respectfully (i mean this in the nicest way possible im not trying to start something) can thesquirrelqueer maybe think before making posts

they’ve blocked me on everything, so they probably wont see this, but i lowkey kinda dont care, i jus need to rant

anyway yea, i’ve noticed thesquirrelqueer had made a bunch of posts about me, in which they “debunk” my two river posts. when did i ever confidently claim these screenshots/videos were from a bootleg?? i do NOT have a two river bootleg, i made an entire post explaining i dont have a bootleg. i have tried to make it VERY clear i do not have one

((screenshot from one of my posts)) HEEAVY on the “if” and “did”

how did you even get the idea that i have a bootleg????? the pictures are not from any bootleg, you dont need to debunk anything bro jus ask me n i’ll tell you the source IF i know it💀 i get making a post linking the sources, that’s totally okay n useful!!!! but calling it a debunking post is insane causs what are you debunking bro

i didn’t know the source of the screenshots, at first, but instead of making an entire post basically calling me a liar to your rabid fans, why couldnt you have jus reached out to me in private🙁 or sent me an ask telling me where they’re from ?? or maybe, you could’ve posted that without indicating i was lying about something i never even said was true

you BLOCKED me on tiktok n on tumblr ((for no reason????? i dont even interact with you)) but continued to make posts about my account . i had people in my asks genuinely harassing me saying i’m a “lying fuck” + even telling me to “kys” etc which is WILD

I WAS NEVER TRYING TO PROVE I HAD A BOOTLEG BROOO😞😞😞😞 WHY WOULD YOU TELL PEOPLE THAT

i’m not even trying to find a bootleg anymore, i’ve discovered that one DOES exist but its not accessible .im not posting screenshots to find a bootleg, i’m jus posting them for fun . it says that in my bio thing, i deadass changed it the second i stopped searching for a bootleg which was months ago

you keep saying the images i post are “off” what does that even mean sorry but why are you speculating

i never said this, i never said the screenshots/ videos were proof of anything .i THOUGHT they were, at first, but i never CLAIMED anything

i would really appreciate it, if you didn’t make me look bad for trying to help find a bootleg of a musical. also if youre gonna block me dont ????? make posts about me ??????? especially posts that paint me in a bad light, thats so shitty?????? you’ve blocked me so i cant even defend myself under the posts. thats why im making an entire post rn

im sorry to everyone if this comes off as aggressive or unnecessary but i genuinely had people mad at me solely causs of the way thesquirrelqueer had worded their post . im pretty sure they have a lot of followers on tumblr (tiktok too) i feel like this should’ve been handled better, especially considering thesquirrelqueer is over 20 years old or something .please try to understand my frustration

its so irritating to put time into digging up all these two river pictures and videos, solely for the reason of showing the fandom, only to get accused of “something being off about this image” or “he’s lied that he’s actually found the bootleg” or “its ai generated” LIKE GUYS IM TRYING TO HELP???????? so annoying why did death threats get involved n shi

do what the musical is called PLEASE i beg you all

((also thesquirrelqueer do you actually have something against me causs i swear you made a passive aggressive video about my will roland one on tiktok, immediately after blocking me there))

#be more chill #bmc #bmc musical #be more chill musical

[spacepajamas956]

Broken And Healed

Chapter 1

Fandom: Mob Psycho 100

Rating: T

CW: Blood, death and slight gore

Read On Ao3

Written by Space_Pajamas

Ritsu came home from school as per-usual to the sound of dinner being made and the TV on. His mother was in the kitchen and his father was fixing himself a cup of coffee. He slipped off his shoes at the door with his eyes set straight to the staircase. He wanted to get to his room as soon as possible so he could practice with his recently awakened powers with the help of his spirit accomplice Dimple.

"Oh, hey Ritsu!"

Ritsu paused. He saw his brother smiling at him from the couch.

"Hey bro," Ritsu responded, hiding his impatience.

"... I was thinking about how we haven't really hung out that much lately." Shigeo fidgeted with the strings of his pink hoodie. "I was wondering if you wanted to-"

"Sorry, can't. I have homework to do," Ritsu cut him off.

"O-oh. I thought you did your homework after dinner?"

"Yeah, but I have a lot to do today." Ritsu went forward, eyes set back on the stairs.

"Oh." His brother's voice had dropped in volume, "Well, maybe when you're done...?"

"Why do you want to hang out all of a sudden?" Ritsu said, irritation creeping into his tone.

"Oh! N-no reason," Mob said on impulse. "I just... I noticed that you haven't been coming to dinner and you seem a bit..." his voice trailed off, as if he didn't want to say what came next.

Ritsu narrowed his eyes. "A bit what?"

"... moody?"

"I'm fine. Just..." Ritsu pondered how he could answer. "The Student Council's been a bit stressful lately." He wasn't lying. But this interaction was keeping him from getting to what was really weighing on his mind.

"Oh. Do you wanna talk about it?" Mob asked. "You’ve always been there for me, so I’m here for you."

Ritsu winced, trying to bite down the snarky remarks that came to mind as a response to his brother's offer. "Don't worry about it. I don't wanna weigh you down."

"Weigh me down? Ritsu, if something's troubling you, I'll listen! Do...do I weigh you down?" Mob looked at his brother with troubled eyes. Ritsu hated this look. It was almost like his brother was completely ignorant to all the tolls his existence brought upon him.

"Like I said, don't worry about it." Ritsu glanced at his brother sideways. "I'm going up to my room now. See you at dinner."

"Ritsu, wait," Mob pestered as he got to his feet, "Can we just talk a little longer? I want to listen. I'm here for you, Ritsu."

Ritsu scoffed. He hadn't meant to.

"I'll listen to whatever's troubling you. Maybe we can come up with a solution."

"You wanna know what's troubling me? You wanna know what my problem is? YOU," Ritsu snapped.

The sounds from the kitchen ceased. The only thing breaking the silence was the laugh track from the TV.

"YOU'VE been weighing me down. YOU'RE the problem."

"Ritsu, did-did I say something? Did I do something?" He took a step closer to his brother.

"Oh, can it. You're just surprised that someone has an issue with you."

"... What?"

"You were born perfect. You've never had to work for anything in your life. You are SO above everyone and everything else, so stop acting like you aren't."

"Ritsu, what are you talking about-"

"You know what I'm talking about. I know how you think of yourself. You think that you're better than everyone else just because you have psychic powers, don't you?"

"What? Ritsu, you know that's not true-"

"You think you need to comfort me by saying you'll listen when in reality you couldn't give two shits about my problems."

"Ritsu, I've never thought highly of myself. I've always thought that way about you."

"Oh, here we go. You're only saying that to try and make me feel better about myself."

"I'm not! It's the truth!"

"I think we both know it's not."

"Ritsu, what happened to you?"

Ritsu let out a short, bitter laugh. "What happened to me? Stop it. Stop acting like you care."

"But I do care! Ritsu, I want to know what's wrong…I want to help."

"You've lived with me for thirteen years and you're just now noticing something's wrong?" Ritsu turned fully to look at his brother. "I'm jealous of you. I always have been. And I know, you're going to say that doesn't make sense since I'm such a good kid or whatever. But I've always resented you. You got psychic powers and I got nothing. "Do you know why I joined the Student Council? Why I try so hard to get good grades? It's so I could have something that was just as special and admirable as you. But no matter what I did, no matter how hard I tried, it never worked. I've always felt second best. Like nothing I could do would be as incredible as what you could. So I'm sorry that I'm not as good as you. I'm sorry I'm finally at my breaking point."

Silence again.

"No. No, you have it all backwards," Mob said. "I've never been good at that kind of stuff. I always just barely make the grade. I could never be in the student council! Ritsu, you're much more admirable than I've ever been.”

"Stop it!" Ritsu shouted.

"Stop what?" Mob asked, his voice raised.

"Trying to make me feel better!"

"I'm not! I'm telling the truth!"

"Stop! Stop saying crap like that!" The light above them flickered.

"I just want to help!" Mob sounded hurt as he put his hands to his chest.

"Well, maybe I don't want your help! Maybe I don't need it!" The light flickered a bit more frequently.

"Ritsu-"

"What?!" The light sparked and went out.

"The light..." Mob muttered as he looked up.

"Don't change the subject! Do you think I care that the light went out?!" The TV remote started to hover a bit above the coffee table.

Mob saw it. His eyes widened. "Ritsu, are you-"

"I'm tired of you acting all innocent! Like you're completely unaware of all the problems you've caused!" The books alongside the remote started to float.

"Ritsu, do you-"

"You've done nothing but try to make me feel better about myself this whole time, and I'm tired of it!"

Now the plant in the corner.

"I'm tired of you acting like you aren't better than me! We both know you are, so stop pretending!" Ritsu’s voice wavered as tears prickled the corners of his eyes.

The books on the shelf.

"Stop pretending that I'm better than you!"

"Ritsu."

"WHAT?!" Then he saw it. The floating objects surrounding the brothers, covered in a blue and purple aura.

"Ritsu... do you have powers?"

The silence returned.

"I wasn't until recently," Ritsu said after a while, lowering the objects.

"Ritsu... I'm so happy for you."

"... What?"

"You always wanted powers, and now you have them. I'm so happy for you." His brother sounded sincere, which was the worst part. Ritsu didn't want him to be happy for him. It ruined the version of his self-obsessed brother that he'd crafted in his mind.

"S-stop it."

Mob stepped closer to his brother with his arms outstretched for a hug.

"No. Stop. I don't want your pity."

"Why would I pity you?" Mob stopped and lowered his arms.

"Because I'm weaker than you. My powers aren't as strong as yours."

"That's okay! It takes practice. I can help you!" An excitement shimmered in his eyes.

"I don't need your help!" The objects rose again. "I don't need your help and I don't need YOU."

"What?"

"I don't need you! I don't need you to make me feel better! I don't need you to pity me for not being as good as you! I don't need you anymore."

The excitement left his eyes. "What are you talking about, Ritsu?" 

"STOP!!" The objects flew in all directions, slamming into the walls. The pot of the plant shattered on impact. The TV remote lodged itself in the wall. Mob flinched.

"You KNOW what I'm talking about! I'm saying I don't care anymore. I don't care about you. I don't care about us as siblings. I. Don't. Care!" The house shuddered and more lights threatened to go out.

"You don't care?" Mob's expression was a mix of confusion and hurt as he looked into Ritsu's eyes. Ritsu didn't like being looked at that way. He shifted his eyes to the broken pot on the floor.

"No. I don't. How many times do I have to say it? When will you listen and leave me alone?" Ritsu balled his fists.

"You don't... care about me?" Mob still stared intently at his brother. Ritsu could still feel his eyes on him. "I think you're the one lying now."

Ritsu refused to meet the black eyes of his brother.

"I think you do care. I think you're just frustrated. And I think it's my fault. I just don't know why."

"... would you believe me if I told you I was scared?"

"Scared of what?"

"You."

"... Me?"

"I was always there for you so you wouldn’t have to bottle up your emotions. You never knew I was jealous of you because I didn't want you to get emotional about it. I know what happens when you do that. I was scared of what would happen if you went berserk again.

"But now, I don't need to be scared. I have powers now to protect myself. And I was frustrated for so long that I didn't have them. That I had to be the bigger person and not tick you off. But I can't hide that frustration anymore. I've tried so hard, but now I don't have to. Now I don't have to worry about how you'll react if I do something wrong."

Mob just stared. Ritsu turned to meet his gaze and hated this new expression even more. Guilt.

"Ritsu-"

"Fight me."

"I- what?" Confusion overtook Mob's face.

"Fight me! I have powers now! I'm not scared anymore."

"I won't fight you, Ritsu. Let's stop arguing."

"No, actually. Let's not." Ritsu let out a blast of energy from his palm and Mob deflected it with a barrier. The blast ricocheted off the barrier and hit the ceiling, leaving a hole.

"Ritsu, we're destroying the house. Stop." Mob said in an attempt to stop his brother from launching the second attack that was growing in his palm.

"Unlike our relationship, the house can be fixed." Ritsu released the second blast, still ricocheting off of Mob's barrier.

"What do you mean ‘unlike our relationship’?" The attack hit the wall this time. "That can be fixed too. And please stop attacking me in the house. We're putting holes in the walls."

"Put your barrier down and fight me back! I can take it!" Both of Ritsu's palms were lit with blue energy now. 

"I don't think you can, Ritsu. Stop it. This is silly."

"Only because you're not taking me seriously!!" The blue energy built up and shot out towards Mob. These blasts were more powerful than the last and when they bounced off the barrier they shook the whole house.

"Boys! Stop fighting in the house!" Their mom called from the kitchen.

"Ritsu, we really need to stop. The house is going to collapse if we're not careful-"

"Stop protecting yourself! Fight me back!!" Ritsu was building up an even bigger blast in his hands.

"Ritsu, don't do it. That attack could-"

"Stop trying to stop me!!!" Ritsu shouted as he launched the blast. It once again was deflected, but this time it shot out in all directions. Big waves of blue energy hit every wall and corner of the ceiling with an ear splitting reverberation.

"Ritsu!!" Mob stepped forward right before it all came down to protect Ritsu in the barrier. What happened next was all too sudden and unseen beyond Ritsu's shielded eyes.

…

When Mob opened his eyes, he saw nothing beyond the blue and purple barrier shielding him and his brother. His arms had instinctively wrapped around his younger brother's body in an effort to protect him from harm.

He lowered the barrier and looked around. The TV and couch were gone. The walls that had once kept them safe had disappeared. All that remained of the floor was the chunk of hardwood that was under him and his brother's knees. He looked up, expecting to see the ceiling, but only saw the setting sun tinted a grayish-brown from the dirt and debris that had gone up in the air with the explosion. He looked around at the scattered remains of sheets and broken pieces of plaster from the sinks. The fence that had once gone all the way around their house was now scattered all over the street and had blown into the neighboring yards. 

What happened? 

Ritsu. 

Ritsu had tried to attack him, and it failed.

Mob looked down at his brother, still held tightly in his arms, eyes screwed shut. 

"Ritsu...?" He said, barely above a whisper. "Ritsu, are you hurt?"

Ritsu slowly opened his eyes and looked at his brother. He shook himself from Mob's grip and he let him. "I'm-What happened...?" Mob watched him take it all in.

"The house is gone," Mob said quietly.

"Where... Shige, where's mom and dad?" Ritsu turned to his brother, panic seeping into his voice.

It hit Mob like a punch in the gut as he realized he hadn't seen his parents anywhere when he'd looked around.

"We need to look for them!" Ritsu said, voice wavering, pupils shrunken.

"I'll look to the left. You take the right." Mob got to his feet unsteadily. "We'll yell for each other if we find anything, okay?"

"O-Okay." Ritsu trembled as he stood up.

They parted ways.

Mob's heart slammed against his chest as he approached the first pile of rubble. It was much too heavy for him to lift physically, so with an outstretched hand, he lifted the debris with a stream of blue aura. He carefully moved one piece after another and found nothing.

He moved onto the next pile, heart beating even faster. Nothing.

The next pile. Nothing.

The pile next to that one. Nothing.

Mob could hear nothing but the sound of his own pounding heart. Where were they?

"Shige!!" Ritsu's piercing voice broke through the silence. Mob turned and dropped the debris he was sorting through.

"Ritsu!" Mob ran, tripping over planks as he followed the direction he'd heard the voice come from. "Ritsu?! Are you okay?! Did you find-" And then he saw it. He saw them . 

Ritsu was on his knees in front of a slowly spreading pool of blood. He traced his eyes to find the source of the blood even though he had the horrible feeling that he already knew what it was. His eyes found the bodies of his mother and father crushed under rubble, eyes glazed over, their bodies limp and wrong looking.

Mob hated this. He hated this sight. He hated his brain telling him he needed to check if they were somehow still alive. He raised his hand to move the rubble anyways. The rubble was heavy, lots of wood and remains of kitchen appliances had fallen on top of them.

What was underneath was too much for him. He saw what had killed them. Sharp pieces of debris had pierced his parents all the way through. His mom’s purple shirt was now soaked with an ever growing amount of blood, the same that pooled at his feet. His father’s face which had been so full of life was now deathly pale aside from the crimson dripping from his mouth.

Mob's vision swam. He felt too many things and nothing at all. He dropped the debris as his knees buckled and he hit the ground next to Ritsu. Tears streaked his little brother's face.

Shige..." Ritsu whispered, his voice shattered like the glass that dug into Mob's knees.

"It- it's okay, Ritsu." Mob wrapped his arms around his brother's trembling body, "It's okay. We're safe. I'm here. Don't cry Ritsu, it's okay. Close your eyes. I'm here."

Ritsu returned the hug, burying his face in the soft fabric of Mob's pink hoodie. He let out a broken sob of grief and horror into Mob's shoulder. He felt the tears soak all the way through his hoodie. He looked down at the blood pooling at his knees and, upon the horrible, nauseated twist of his gut, took his own advice and closed his eyes. He held onto his little brother tighter and closer than before.

"I'm here, Ritsu. It's okay."

…

Reigen was driving back to the office after dealing with a client. The client had made an urgent call about some spirit shutting off all her lights. Turns out she'd just forgotten to pay the electricity bill. Reigen knew this, of course, but decided to fake an exorcism anyway to get paid. He said it was the ghost of a past landlord of the house that had come back and turned off all her lights as a warning to tell her to pay her bills.

Reigen found the whole job hilarious and was looking forward to telling Mob about it when he came into work the next day. He was glad it wasn't an actual spirit since he didn't have Mob with him at the time. 

Reigen passed several identical houses. The only thing differentiating them were the different roof colors. Red followed by a gray-blue, brown followed by red again. He paid little mind to them as he was contemplating what cheap and crappy fast food he was going to have for dinner.

As he continued down the road, Reigen started to notice bits of fence scattered along some front yards and chalked it up to a blown over fence. There was an awfully strong gust of wind as he'd left the client's house. The fence planks started getting more and more abundant as he drove on. The sky that was a blaze of oranges and yellows from the setting sun started to get more clouded over with debris and dirt particles.

"What in the world?" Reigen muttered as he drove onward. Then he passed something that made him do a double take.

He put his car in reverse and stopped in front of what should have been a house. There were scattered piles of debris and hardwood.

But that wasn't what had made Reigen double back. What surprised him was the two little boys huddled against each other. What surprised him even more - what alarmed him even more - was the fact that he recognized them.

He killed the engine and undid his seat belt. He opened the driver's side door and stepped out onto the disarrayed grass. He approached the boys, careful not to step on the shattered glass and broken plaster that coated the ground.

"... Mob?"

One of the boys turned to him with dark and fearful eyes. Reigen had been right. These two kids were his student and his little brother.

Reigen got a better look at the scene that had caught his attention. The two boys sat in front of... No, IN a puddle of blood that seeped from the limp and lifeless bodies of two adults who had been impaled with some sort of debris. They both had dark hair and glazed over eyes. They resembled the scared boys in front of them in an unmistakable way.

"Are those your-" Reigen's voice was filled with a deep gut wrenching horror.

"Master Reigen!" His student’s eyes filled with relief. His voice was hoarse and soft.

"Mob, what happened? Your parents! Are they-"

"Don't. Please don't say it." Mob hugged his crying brother closer to his chest.

"Ooookay then." Reigen racked his brain, trying to think of something to say to the young boy in front of him. Something comforting, maybe? "Okay. Okay, okay um, how about we stop sitting in the blood and glass, ‘kay?"

Mob looked down at his knees, his eyes filling with horror.

"And let's not look at it either," Reigen said to Mob and himself.

Mob slowly rose on trembling legs, pulling Ritsu up with him. Blood had soaked through his blue jeans and his brother's black uniform pants. Ritsu looked up and his wet eyes met Reigen's. For once, they didn't hold any annoyance or hostility towards him.

"Okay. Are- are either of you hurt?" Reigen asked. "Holy crap, what happened?"

"Master-"

"Was there a house fire? No, did someone... what happened?"

"Master-"

"Oh. Oh! I- we should call someone. I'm gonna call for help, okay? The police. They'll... yeah they'll help."

"Master-"

"Stay here, okay Mob? I'm just making a quick call."

"... Okay."

Okay, Reigen, he thought, Just gonna call the police to deal with my student and his brother's dead parents and suddenly decimated house! No big deal.

He dialed the number into his phone and gave them the rundown of what he knew. Once the call ended, he turned back to Mob and Ritsu who now stood side by side, taking in their surroundings.

"Okay! The police should be here in a few minutes. Hopefully they'll get this all sorted out. Now, would you mind giving me an explanation as to what happened?"

Mob looked at him, then looked away. Reigen had clearly touched on a sore subject. Of course he had! Mob’s parents were DEAD for god's sake.

"Mob, I know you don't want to, but you gotta either tell me or the police officers. And I know from experience that police aren't always the best listeners, unlike me," Reigen said with a twirl of his hand.

Mob looked back at Reigen. A few silent moments passed before he started talking. "Me and Ritsu were... arguing. Ritsu started attacking and-"

"Wait, wait, wait. What do you mean by attacking?"

"With his powers."

"Wait, Ritsu has POWERS? Since when?!"

"I... I don't know. I just found out today."

"Okay, Okay, doesn't matter, continue, Mob."

"He started attacking me so I put up a barrier. It deflected the attacks, but that made them hit the house, and... I went to protect Ritsu when I noticed it was going to collapse. Mom and dad were in the kitchen so I couldn't-" Mob choked on his words.

"... Yeah, I think I know what happened after that…" Reigen looked back to the ever flowing pool of blood and then quickly looked back to Mob. Reigen opened his mouth to say something, then heard the approaching wail of sirens. "Don't worry Mob, I'll explain this to the police for you. You and Ritsu hang tight, okay?"

"Okay." Mob looked at his brother. Ritsu met his eyes briefly before looking away.

The police parked across the street. Two figures stepped out. They had an exchange that Reigen couldn't hear from that far away and then they approached what remained of the Kageyama's house.

One figure went over to the blood and the other confronted Reigen. The officer introduced himself and started asking the basic questions: Who was he, what happened, if he had anything to do with the situation. But it wasn't until the officer asked one specific question that Reigen faltered.

"... And what is your connection with the family in question?"

Reigen pondered for a moment. He could just tell the truth, but then they might suspect that he had something to do with the accident. So he did what he did best. He lied. "Oh, uh, I'm the kids' uncle. On the mom's side."

"No he’s-" Ritsu started from behind him before Reigen shushed him.

"Are you a trusted relative?" The officer asked.

"Pfff, oh yeah. Totally trusted. I live in the area and visit every so often. The kids love me." He turned ever so slightly to Mob. "Mob, help me out." He hissed.

"Oh. Master- I mean, Uncle Rei- I mean, Arataka is great and is very nice to us," Mob said, a bead of sweat dripping down his face.

Reigen winced. "Yep! The kids love their Uncle Arataka."

"I don't," Ritsu muttered. Mob nudged him ever so slightly.

"Alright, so let me get this straight; you were driving over to see your sister's family,"

"Yep."

"You saw the house destroyed and the kids in front of their dead parents,"

"You got it."

"And your nephew told you it suddenly... exploded?"

"You know, now that you say it, that does sound pretty crazy. But that's what happened! The kid told me himself," He pointed with his thumb to Mob who was standing behind him with Ritsu. Reigen had left the psychic power aspect of the accident out to hopefully spare Ritsu and Mob the trouble of being interrogated.

"Alright then, the investigators will be here soon, but you're free to go. Stay in town and contact us, or we can contact you if there's any new information. Since you're a trusted relative, we will leave the kids with you for the time being."

"Great! I'll take them back to my apartment, then."

Ritsu glared daggers into the back of Reigen's head.

"You okay with that, kids?" Reigen stuffed his hands in his pockets and turned to the brothers.

Mob nodded and Ritsu shook his head. Mob nudged Ritsu in the arm and Ritsu begrudgingly nodded.

"Great! We'll get you some clean clothes on the way there, since yours are a bit, well... yeah."

The boys inspected their clothes.

"Thank you for your time, officer." Reigen bowed to the officer in front of him and motioned for Mob and Ritsu to come to his car with him. Mob was the first to follow while Ritsu walked farther behind.

Reigen opened the driver's side door and slid in. He unlocked the other doors so that Mob and Ritsu could get in as well. Mob took the passengers side and Ritsu took the back. The sound of seat belts clicking filled the car as Reigen started up the engine. And with the two brothers now in the car with him, Reigen continued his previously interrupted drive back to his office.

(Chapter 2 On Ao3)

#Broken And Healed mp100 #Mob psycho 100 #ritsu kageyama #shigeo kageyama #kageyama parents #reigen arakata #fanfiction #my fanfiction