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#yeah ill tag the individuals why not

t4tails · 2 years

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24 hour hog lockdown. happy birthday character of all time

#sonic the hedgehog #sonic #sth #chao #?#yeah ill tag the individuals why not #classic sonic #sonic boom #sonic movie #my art #og post

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wetsocksinbed · 7 months

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shit people need to hear about COD:

Ghost isn’t some broken uwu boy. Infantilising assault victims is demeaning and disrespectful

I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again, König is extremely overrated for a character that only appears as a playable operator and not as anything in the campaign

You’re allowed to ship whoever you want, it’s a free world, but throwing a tantrum when people say they don’t ship GhostSoap or Korangi, and calling them homophobic (I’ve seen this too many times at this point) is disgusting and you’re essentially stereotyping us LGBTQ individuals as aggressive and pushy when it comes to queer ships. The characters of Ghost and Soap are canonically coded to be like brothers, and you need to stop thinking that a headcannon is the same as real cannon

Stop replacing Gaz with König, it’s giving ✨racism✨

Alex, König, Farah, Alejandro, Rudy and Horangi are not part of TF141, stop including them in it?????

König and Ghost are canonically enemies and wouldn’t have each other on speed dial just tag your fics as OOC at this point

the entirety of the Call of Duty franchise was coded for straight white “alpha male” boys who live in their mothers basements, stop acting like it’s anything more than that. You won’t find the representation you’re looking for in it and honestly with the way it’s headed at the moment, I don’t think you ever will

we can tell if you’ve never played the games based on how you write the fics. You don’t have to be a game fan or player, but at least do your research on the characters you’re writing about before you hit “post”

Makarov and Graves are terrible people and shouldn’t be idolised. Before you tag me with your “let people do what they want” let me remind you that Graves is canonically racist. @mockerycrow made a good post about why Makarov is a shit person and I recommend you read it

All of the characters have their flaws. Ghost, Soap, Gaz, Price, they all have done bad things. Price is known to commit war crimes if it means getting the mission done

König having social anxiety doesn’t mean he’s a broken husk. You can function completely fine with the disorder if you can find a way to distance yourself from who you are as a person. Say, like, constantly wearing a mask? I promise you that the Austrian soldier wouldn’t be a sobbing mess because he got looked at funny

Also, he is only obsessed over because of his mask and the weird obsession people on this app have with infantilising people with trauma and mental illnesses (see first paragraph regarding Ghost)

The way some of the fans obsess over the actors is uncomfortable and genuinely creepy. It’s like this generation thinks that anything behind a screen isn’t real and can’t feel anything. They’re people who act. They’re not the characters you play.

feel free to add more to this, I’m tired and sick and wanted to rant

notes:

don’t attack me with the “yeah but not me” shit. Obviously I don’t mean everyone.

this doesn’t mean you can’t enjoy the games the way you want, it just means don’t fucking police it and gatekeep it and expect everyone to accept your interpretation of it

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copperbadge · 2 months

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I'm starting to think one reason (of many) you're such a good writer is you think in words instead of mental images. It could make it easier to express yourself in words to other people. When I write I have to try to fully express what's on in the three dimensional, surround sound smellovision cinema in my head, and I will never be able to do that.

I do wonder -- whether for good or ill it has definitely had an impact. (For new readers, I have aphantasia, the lack of a "mental eye" or inner visual world, which you can read more about in the "aphantasia fantasia" tag; it's disproportionately common to neurodiverse individuals, along with poor autobiographical memory). I don't know if it's better training for expression, because without knowing how words invoke mental images I don't really know how effective I'm being, but I think it does make for easier first drafts. And probably some of the popularity of my fanfic in specific is that it allows people to project a good deal onto the story/characters, because I tend to keep the visual details vague.

One of the longest-running complaints about my work is that it's much of a muchness, all my characterizations and stories are the same. While on the one hand that's obviously not a compliment, I think that is also attached to the fact that I'm not very visually specific, so not entirely my fault; if people are reading the same things into my work over and over it's probably because of a lack of imagination on their part as well. (I've tried to work on this as a skill, but I'm aware that haters gonna hate, so I don't take envy-driven criticism too much to heart anymore.) I think it's less homogeneity than it is simple vagueness.

But yeah also I would imagine if you're driven to give a very specific visual impression it would be SUPER frustrating if you feel like you can't, either because there aren't words or because you don't feel you have the skills yet. A lot of skill in writing is just practice, but "just practice" is a real minimizing phrase. I'm not someone who subscribes to the idea that talent doesn't matter, because I think it does; I think it's much easier to practice when you derive pleasure from the thing you're practicing, which I think is linked to talent.

Yeah, I dunno. Certainly it explains why most of my early adult writing was in theatre, where you're leaving a lot up to the designers and director in any case.

Rutherford & Fry did a podcast episode about aphantasia that I should probably get back to listening to, but I can't listen to much of it at once; some of it is the sense of being perceived, but some of it is also envy, because they talk to someone who has aphantasia but not ADHD and she's like "Yeah my mind is super quiet, it's nice" and I may not see images or hear noises in my head but still somehow manage a truly inconvenient level of chaos there. :D

#an aphantasia fantasia #aphantasia #sam has adhd

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meownotgood · 2 years

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a little death / hayakawa aki

You meant everything to him, and Aki promised to keep you safe, even if it meant dying for you.

fic playlist: click here!

pairing: hayakawa aki x fem!reader

word count: 20.6k

tags: 18+, smut, angst, smoking, love confessing, that one trope where they step in front to protect you, tending to wounds, hand job, finger sucking, tender sex, aki is touch-starved and needy as hell

this work contains explicit content intended for 18+ individuals. please read the tags and do not interact if you are a minor.

Human life is expendable. In this world, it always has been. If someone dies, they'll simply be replaced, such is the perpetual ill-fated existence of a devil hunter.

In a way, it's like the cigarettes Aki smokes. Sometimes they burn halfway, sometimes they burn down to ash, but when you're done, you just smoke another. They do well to remind him of the fragility of life in more ways than one. He inhales, and even though he knows it's slowly killing him, when the rich taste of smoke fills his lungs, all he can feel is heaven. Yeah, she was right. Life is so much better when you have something to take the edge off.

Aki pulled the cigarette from his lips, tapping it with his finger over the ashtray and watching the dying embers scatter. The smoke from his exhale rose into an oddly calm, cloudless blue sky. As it left his lungs, Aki could almost feel his stresses melt into the tranquility of the cool breeze. Almost. He was only escaping from his work for a short time, because once this cigarette was spent, it was begrudgingly back into the fray.

Why was it always on the nicest of days that Aki had to be stuck working? Actually, that's a stupid question, considering he works pretty much every day. But shame on him for wanting to patrol peacefully with you and enjoy the nice weather for once.

Whatever, the devil this time was supposed to be weak anyways. Only you and him were dispatched to the scene, and you were told it was okay to take your time, so this must be something the both of you could handle quite easily. Soon, the sun would set, but maybe if you both managed to get this job done quickly, he'd be able to enjoy what was left of the day.

"Shit, Aki, I can't find mine. Can I have one of yours?"

"Nope, it's my last one. Sorry." Aki replied, taking another long drag from the cigarette.

"Dammit, I left my jacket at home 'cause it was supposed to be hot today. They must still be in my pocket."

The sun was beaming down, blistering heat radiating off the concrete sidewalk, but while standing in a large shadow cast by the looming buildings, a soft breeze dancing through the air cut through the tepidity. It brushed against Aki's arms bared by rolled up sleeves, tickling the side of his face and the hair on the back of his neck. This corner of the city was calm and quiet today, with the only sound being the rhythmic hum from cars on the nearby street whizzing by.

"Hey, Aki, let me have a hit of that one."

Aki shook his head. "No way."

"Oh come on, I'll be quick. There's no way I'm getting through this mission without some nicotine in my system."

Aki took the thin cigarette from his mouth once more, holding it carefully between his fingers, puffs of smoke wisping up from the firefly light on the end. He turned his head, finally meeting your pleading gaze. You cocked your head at him and he hesitated, if only for a moment, before sighing in defeat. He brought the cigarette to your lips until they closed around it.

"Inhale."

You followed the command, breathing in as he held the half-burned cig steady. The moment the smoke hit your lungs, it instantly flooded your senses with pure bliss.

It wasn't very hard to convince Aki when it came to you, never has been. But there's something about sharing his cigarette with you, something about watching you take a hit between his fingers, eyes locked onto his. Something about it enthralled him every time. So if you asked, he was sure to let you have a taste, and this time was no different.

He pulled away when you took in a sufficient breath, bringing the cig back to his own lips. You tilted your head upwards, catching glimpses of pale blue obscured by a tangled web of power lines before the smoke was blown out steadily from your mouth.

Funny, at one point, you told Aki you'd never smoke. Yet now, here you were. Somehow, "Ew, I'd never," turned into, "Fine, I'll try it," turned into, "What brand do you get again? I'm just curious," turned into now, all right before his eyes, and all because of him. It filled him with a little sense of pride.

If you were going to be a devil hunter beside him, experiencing the same loss and turmoil as he has his entire life for the rest of yours, he supposed you deserved something to indulge in. Or at least, that's what someone else taught him a long time ago. When you first became his partner, whether it was a nostalgic force of habit or an urge to put you through the same rite of passage he himself once underwent, Aki made it his goal to convince you to smoke.

With how adamantly against it you were at first, he almost gave up. But after countless missions together, months spent growing closer and further trusting one another, something seemed to crack. He managed to convince you to try it, and in no time at all, he had turned you into just as much of a hopeless addict as he was. It was a satisfying feeling at first, but now, that feeling wasn't enjoyed without a sharp pang of guilt.

Aki's life was expendable. If he died, what impact would he leave on the world? He had no loved ones, no family, no-one he cared about, besides you. And the very day after he breathed his last, you'd find that he'd be replaced, just as simply as everyone he himself has come to lose. You'd forget about him and move on with your new partner. A stick of tobacco was certainly not going to be his final nail in the coffin, but it doesn't really matter either way, does it?

Your life though, your life was different. Your life was precious. It was filled with time he didn't have, filled with hope he didn't have. In himself, he saw nothing, but in you, he saw love. To him, you were love. You were the embodiment of everything that made life worth living, everything beautiful. A star-filled night spent drinking the sweetest liquor, or finally getting home and taking off your shoes. The world beat him and broke him down, but in your soul, he found solace.

But hey, that's something he would never admit. Not out loud, anyways.

Regardless, you were someone he found worth protecting, and that's exactly what Aki vowed he would do, and that's exactly why he changed his mind. If he could go back, he would have never given you a cigarette. Hell, he would have quit smoking if that's what it took to get you to never try one. Your life was precious, and he should have never taught you to shorten it.

Ugh, he was thinking too much. What he should do is shake these thoughts from his head and start focusing on the mission.

Aki took a final drag in before stamping the cigarette bud out into the ashtray. "Alright," He spoke through a mouthful of smoke, "You ready?"

"As ready as I'll ever be." You pushed yourself off of the wall you had been leaning on, stretching before you stood up straight. "You okay Aki? You've been spacing out."

"Yeah, yeah, I'm fine. Don't worry." Aki replied nonchalantly. You walked closer to him, hands reaching to grab his tie, and you pulled on the fabric, adjusting it straight around his collar.

"Remember," Aki starts, "If things go bad, you stand behind me, understand?"

"Don't worry, we've got this." You stated, looking up at him, "And after we're done, we can go out for some celebration drinks."

When your gaze met his, Aki felt his worries fade away, like snow melting to a warm flame. He smiled softly, something only you could seem to make him do, he thinks. Drinks together after a stressful day sounded great. All he had to do was get through this mission, and then he could relax. And with the two of you, it would be easy, right?

Aki nodded, "Right. Let's go."

—

Devil Extermination request for the Public Safety Commission. Devil sighting inside block #9's parking garage. According to the request, the devil fled to the 3rd floor. It is described as a rather weak Spike Devil. All civilians have been evacuated safely from the area. Dispatching two devil hunters from Public Safety Devil Extermination Special Division 4.

It was never supposed to happen this way. It was supposed to be an easy job. It was supposed to be to go in, locate the devil in the building, and eliminate it. Get things done like you both always do and get out, simple as that. So how did you end up getting cornered like this?

From the minute you saw the state of disarray the parking garage was in, you knew "rather weak" was a complete lie. You've been a devil hunter long enough to know this much damage couldn't be caused by a mere low-rate devil. Cars were toppled everywhere. Some appeared to be flung with incredible force, and some were covered in holes where something had pierced straight through the metal. A chill was sent up your spine when you began to wonder what that something could be. This devil was definitely much stronger than it may have appeared.

Likewise, you've been fighting alongside Aki long enough to know when he gets quiet like this, gritting his teeth roughly, sweat coating his furrowed brows, it's usually a bad sign. The only time he goes silent is when he knows things are about to go to shit.

With no words exchanged, you made your way to the third floor alongside Aki. Neither of you were sure what to expect, but you both were saying silent prayers in your minds as you climbed the stairs. Prayers that this devil really was weak, and prayers that today wouldn't be either of your last. Once you were face to face with the titular Spike Devil though, your assumptions were dreadfully proven.

First of all, it was no small-fry, boasting a rather large body of contorted limbs and mismatched appendages. It was a disgusting freak of nature, like every devil you've come across. What was most interesting were the equally sizeable spines that covered the entirety of its body.

The devil appeared to be able to shoot them out and recall them back to its body at will, so not only did it have great range and offense, but when recalled, the spikes also provided an excellent layer of defense. They weren't porcupine levels of spines either. The size was comparable to railroad spikes, and they were heavy enough that it took a wide swing of your sword to deflect them, leaving your arms aching.

Second of all, thanks to all of those limbs helping to propel it, the damn thing was blisteringly fast and incredibly relentless. Its movements were a blur you could hardly even make out. All you could manage to do was block, block, block, never having the opportunity to get a hit in.

Despite the growing severity of the situation, you were able to control your breathing and maintain some of your cool. You were both going to get out of this alive, you always do, don't you? After all, you had your full trust placed in Aki, and he had his full trust placed in you. You stood back to back, pressed close to one another, covering for each other's blind spots to deflect the devil's attacks.

Aki has always been more agile than you, so at this point, you were relying on him to land a blow while you focused on simply keeping yourself from being impaled. Unfortunately, try as he might, he was just as unsuccessful as you. At least he was able to take a few swings at it, which was more than you were able to accomplish, but they proved to be fruitless when the devil dodged them easily.

With every movement of your sword, it seemed to become heavier and heavier in your hands. In your chest, you could feel every single pound of your heart. It was hard to breathe, almost like the air was being forced into your lungs. You were slowing down, threatened to succumb to your exhaustion.

Aki could sense it. Where you started to lag, he only moved faster, swinging his blade wider, harder. He blocked where you failed to, and before you knew it, the fight was in a league all its own and you truly weren't a part of it anymore. Aki deflected every hit on his own while slowly backing away with you behind him, taking every opportunity, each break in the devil's attacks to put space in between the two of you and itself.

Eventually, you both were able to back up far enough that the devil's attacks subsided a little, although not completely. Instead of sending out as many continual attacks as it could, the devil instead honed in on concentrated strikes. It was trying to eliminate one of you, and it clearly didn't care which, with one strong blow. Aki deflected the first hit, but not without briefly staggering under the weight of the impact.

"Go. Run away."

Your attention was pulled away from the fight when Aki suddenly spoke, his voice breathless yet resolute. It was the first thing he'd said in a frighteningly long amount of time. His command hung in the air, his eyes remaining locked on the devil as he deflected another attack.

Do something, fucking do something, you screamed at yourself, but you were rooted in place and couldn't think, couldn't move. Everything was a blur, moving in fast motion while you were stuck in the past. All you were able to do was uselessly stand at Aki's side, your eyes darting between him and the devil as he blocked strikes with the flat length of his sword, loud clangs of metal against metal echoing throughout the garage.

Aki abruptly turned to you, grabbing your shoulder, and his iron grip paired with his sharp gaze meeting yours was enough to briefly shake you from your trance. He raised his voice, shouting, "Did you not hear me?!"

"I… I heard you, but I…" You stammered frantically, trying to come up with the words, trying to come up with anything at all. Right now, you're aware that you're only a liability, just someone he has to protect. But you didn't want to leave him. You couldn't. You were hoping somehow, someway, you'd find a way to assist. If you searched your brain hard enough, you'd have to come up with something.

Aki's face seemed to soften the slightest amount when he spoke again, staring into your eyes with an expression ever pleading. "I can handle this, you're only going to get hurt if you stay so please, please just-"

You should do something. Anything. Something to help him, something more useful, something better than just standing there.

No, you should run. You should listen to him. You should take the chance he's made for you and get out. So why weren't you? Why were you numb, unable to move?

Wait, when did he start standing so close in front of you? And when did the noise of clanging metal cease?

And why was Aki not moving?

The air was filled with a suffocating silence, save for a faint plip, plap sound of droplets splattering on concrete and the twofold echo of weary gasps for breath. You were terrified to look, shaky vision remaining fixated on the devil, but when a spike stained crimson was recalled to its body and the sound grew from a light dribble to a loud splatter, your eyes darted downwards.

Blood. Aki's blood.

Aki's sword slipped from his loose grasp, falling to the ground with a clatter amongst the spots of red painting the floor below. His legs buckled, and as he swayed forward, you reached out and caught him by his waist.

"Aki, oh my God, I'm so sorry, Aki please-"

Everything was scrambled, surreal, and you were fumbling over your words, shaking, struggling to hold up his weight and not even sure what was going through your mind anymore.

Aki wrapped his arm around your shoulders, still wobbling but regaining a little bit of his balance. He opened his mouth to speak, but as soon as he tried, he sputtered into a cough, spitting up spots of blood into his hand.

His mind was a dizzying blur, coherent thoughts swirling, drowned out by a razor-edged pain that kept hammering away at his senses. He's losing blood. He can feel it warm and wet against his side. Even though his adrenaline is pumping right now, he can't have much consciousness left before he's done.

Make the best call, otherwise we're both dying here.

The devil seemed to be taunting you now, taking its time to lick the blood off the spike clean. But Aki was the only one who noticed this. You couldn't tear your eyes away from him.

Despite how much it made your heart sink to see his face contorted in such pain, his lips parted as he took in ragged breaths, your gaze remained locked on. You focused only on watching the heave of his chest, right above where his white dress shirt is stained a vivid red, because you were terrified of the thought that if you looked away, when you looked back, it wouldn't rise and fall anymore.

At least the devil seemed to have finally let its guard down. The damn thing probably thought it had already won. The two of you had lured it all the way to the edge of the parking garage. Orange rays from the setting sun cast large shadows upon the devil's figure.

Now was the only chance Aki had to finish it, and he needed to do so quick, before the monster started paying attention again.

"Aki, please, come on, we need to get out of here-"

Make the best call, make the best call, make the best call…

Was this close enough? Was it too dangerous to summon it here? What if the entire building toppled?

No, stop hesitating or you'll die, idiot. He had to do it, and he had to do it right now.

Aki brought a heavy, trembling hand up, middle and ring fingers pressed faint to the pad of his thumb. Through blurry vision growing dim, he aligned the circle between his fingers with the shadowy silhouette of the devil.

Before he even spoke, he could feel the blood bubbling up in his aching throat, but he forced himself to push past it. He choked out the one word he needed so quietly he might as well have been mouthing it.

"Kon."

The fox's head burst through the nearest wall like it was nothing, its might obscuring the glow of the setting sun, and in one fell swoop, the Spike Devil was gone, swallowed in the Fox Devil's jaws whole. Aki used a final burst of energy to hurriedly twist until he was in front of you. He wrapped his arms around your back and held you close, his tall frame leant over yours to shield you from the flying debris.

It's over.

The devil was taken down, Aki kept you safe, and once this realization hit him, the ache in his chest seemed to increase exponentially. It was a piercing, hot, all-encompassing pain, like nothing he could even describe, and nothing like anything he's ever felt before in his life. His ears were ringing, and every breath he took in was starting to become shorter and shorter without his control.

There's so many things he wants to tell you. He wants to say it's alright, we did it. Don't worry about me because everything is going to be okay. But words wouldn't form anymore, let alone comprehensible thoughts. He was at the end of his rope now, wasn't he?

It hurts, it's fading away, everything is fading. I don't want to die, God, please don't let me die.

"Aki, hang in there, look at me, please."

But your face was a blur, a mere swirl of colors growing hazy, almost as if he was being swallowed into the darkness of a long, pitch-black tunnel.

Don't give in just yet, don't give in, it hurts it hurts it hurts it hurts…

"Focus on me, please don't close your eyes…"

But your voice was growing fainter, muddier, as if Aki was plunged underwater, the depths threatening to claim him, and his eyelids were starting to feel so, so heavy.

I'm going to die.

The realization should have been terrifying. Instead, he felt release, like finally letting go when your hands had been burning from holding on for far too long. The end should have hit him much harder than it did. Instead, he found it soothing, like a river's rippling waters finally settling into a still, tranquil pool.

"Aki…"

It's okay, please don't cry. I didn't have that much time left, anyways.

It was never supposed to happen this way. It was supposed to be an easy job, and now the person you cared for the most was dying in your arms.

"Can you hear me? Aki?"

At this point, if you were saying anything, he couldn't tell what it was anymore. He could feel himself slipping, losing the fight, and before he knew it, he was speaking before he was thinking. Soft words tumbled from his aching throat at barely more than a whisper.

"I'm sorry, I love you."

And then, he was done.

Aki's head fell to rest on your shoulder. His body went limp against yours, motionless and heavy. You could feel the ever so subtle tickle of his shallow breaths against your neck.

He was barely breathing, but at least he wasn't dead yet.

—

It's happening again. He's there, but at the same time, he is watching himself, a mere observer to the snowglobe that is the microcosm of his life. Inside the dome is a familiar house, surrounded by dead trees with branches clothed in white. Through frosted glass, he can see it; he can see himself, tiny and meager, while as innocent and pure as the pale white snow. But all he can do is watch.

All he can do is watch as the scene plays out just as he knew it would, just as he's seen in his dreams countless times before. Someone shakes the globe, and all at once, his home is torn into the sky, blown away with the same disorder present in a gorgeous flurry of snowflakes and glitter.

It's strange. Seeing it now, so small, so far away, a swirl of mesmerizing crystalline, it almost seems beautiful. But as he watches, he can taste the bile rising in his throat, he is weighed down by the sinking of his heart, and in that moment, he's filled with the same sense of dread he felt that day. The feeling of being lost at sea with nothing but miles and miles of blue in sight. Nowhere to run to, no-one to reach out and help you, left treading water until you drown in the deep.

Aki feels cold, down to his bones. Is it because of the snow? Or is it coming from within?

The scene fades, and a new one opens on what he remembers to be the first time he wielded a sword. He watches a much younger, inexperienced version of himself through the shiny reflection on the blade. His fragile hands grip the hilt tight and he swings with a reckless naiveté. God, he was so young to be fighting, and even though he tried to hide it, Aki knew him better than anyone, and he knew the boy he saw in the mirror was terrified.

He became a spectator to his first devil kill. Adrenaline pumped through his veins and he was overwhelmed with the satisfaction of finally doing something useful. From then on, he killed more, more. He didn't stop, not even for a second.

His sword was plunged into devil after devil, but the madness didn't end for him once they were dead. He cut their bodies open and searched through every last revolting inch of their insides until he found what he was looking for. When he was done, his palms were stained red, down to the crevices. He remembers feeling as though it would never wash out of his pores. With his blade coated in blood, Aki could no longer see through the steel, and so the scene faded anew.

When the picture took shape once more, Aki was standing on a lonely street. Through a wide set of windows, he could see himself inside, eating dinner with his late partner. Or perhaps it was lunch, he can't remember. The inside of the restaurant appeared to be empty apart from his table, and although he could see himself clearly, the one sitting in the chair across from him was blurred. He knew exactly who it was, and yet, her face was obscured and just wasn't quite right.

"Aki, wanna job hop to the civilian side with me?"

Even though he was watching from outside, he could hear the conversation clear as day, like it was coming from inside his brain.

"We don't have to hunt that damn gun, y'know?"

Aki didn't look up, although now, he wished he did, because if he had, maybe he would have remembered her face more.

"I'll go drinking with you as much as you want," He replied firmly, "But I will never go to the civilian sector."

If he could go back now, would he have changed his answer?

Right now, he isn't sure, but in this world where he's only an onlooker, it doesn't really matter. He is on the outside looking in, left staring at his double and the hazy vision of Himeno, the window pane seeming fogged up around her form as she lights a familiar cigarette.

Why was Aki seeing all of these things? Is this what they call your life flashing before your eyes?

He stood idly, watching the film continue to play out, although he already knew how it was going to end. For a second time, Himeno died right in front of him, and for a second time, he was utterly powerless to stop it. He was a prisoner to a story already told, and even though the rest of the memory was fuzzy, he could remember everything about her as he watched her slowly disappear.

That memory was always the clearest. His own brain is so cruel.

Aki couldn't bear to see much more of this. He turned and started walking, then running, leaving the stage behind him.

Perhaps it was because he hoped to enter a memory more pleasant, or perhaps it was because your face was the last thing he saw, your voice the last thing he heard, and so you were still lingering in the labyrinth of his mind. Whatever it was, Aki began to reflect on recollections of you.

The first time he gave you a cigarette. He demonstrated how to smoke it before passing it off to you. When you coughed and sputtered, it was almost endearing, like watching a younger version of himself. You didn't give up though, and when he watched you, he couldn't help but smile. That day, he smiled for what was the first time in a long time.

The first mission you completed together. He didn't think it was anything to write home about, but you were so excited, and some of that cheerfulness couldn't help but be rubbed off on him. You praised him for how strong he was, rambled about how much you wished you could be a devil hunter as strong as him. Never become like me, was what he wanted to say, but instead, he offered to train with you, show you some of what he knows. You graciously accepted, and after that, training sessions together became a regular occurance. That was only the start of Aki spending time with you outside of work.

The first time he took you to his family's grave. He told you it wouldn't be anything fun, but you insisted on coming. He's still not sure why you did.

It was chilly that day. You both left early in the morning. You slept on his shoulder on the train ride there. Then, on the boat, it was freezing, so while you looked out at the water, he took off his jacket and draped it over the two of you like a blanket with his shoulder pressed against yours. Lastly was the bus, and even though it was totally empty, for some reason, he stood close to you. Close enough that every bump in the road caused him to lean into you. Close enough that his fingers kept accidentally brushing against yours.

Another thing he's not sure of is why you decided to grab his hand then. It could be because you were getting tired of all those accidents, or maybe it was because you figured it was awfully close anyways, so you might as well. It wouldn't be a far extension of what was already occurring.

Or possibly, it was because you could see right through him. You could tell deep down, he was troubled with the reminders of all of this, of everything he lost that day. So when you took his hand, it was to give him something to hold on to. A small form of comfort. He likes to think the reason was the latter.

"Your hands are cold." You commented.

"Yours are warm."

The trip was always a long one, but with you, it seemed to go by in an instant. You prayed alongside him, and something about you being there made it easier, made him feel less alone.

In his eyes, in every memory, your face was clear. He could see every detail of it, but he swore it was more beautiful than he remembered.

The first time you came over to his house, he showed you around, and when you were hungry, he peeled and cut an apple for you. He remembers the way your face lit up when you saw the bunny-shaped slices, the way you smiled at him as you ate. You watched movies together, talked about stupid shit and gossiped about co-workers while forgetting about the world. For just one night, everything was normal. Aki remembers wishing he could freeze time right at that moment.

The first time you went out drinking together, you both probably shared more secrets than necessary, but Aki can hardly recall what was said. What he does remember is taking you home when you got too drunk, your whole body leaning on him, your infectious laugh when you wobbled, and the way you relied on him to keep you safe without question. It made him feel important, made him feel like he was needed by someone.

It's the dullest of moments that Aki remembers the clearest, he notes. They also happen to be the ones he loves the most, because when every devil might be what drives you to the brink of insanity, a little bit of something simple goes a long way.

Aki relives a conversation he had with you on his balcony, over a shared cigarette and under the dull light of the crescent moon. He recalls something you asked him that night.

"If you could go back and change your past, would you?"

You posed it as a pretty casual question, teasing him when he simply replied he doesn't know.

Ask him any other time, and Aki would have said yes, absolutely. There were so many things he'd like to change about his life. So many people he'd want to save, and when he really thinks about it, all of this started with that stupid house and that damn gun. Against the impossible odds, he'd find a way to prevent it, find a way to save his family. Find a way to fix his life.

Now though? He's come to feel a bit differently, not just about that question, but about his life as a whole. No matter how much you wish it could, the past can't be changed. The only thing you can do is learn to live with it. Accomplish your goals and treasure what you have left until it's gone. And if you do, you might just find something that makes all the suffering worth it in the end. Someone who makes you look forward, instead of looking back all the time.

The only thing he regrets is ever giving you a damn cigarette.

This world has always hated him from the start. Was showing him all of this the universe's way of trying to get him to finally give up?

To hell with that. Aki still had a job to do, and for once in his life, he had someone out there waiting for him. Someone who would cry if he died, and he can't let that happen. He needed to get out of here.

"Aki, where are we going?"

With no warning, he found himself on a busy street, and he heard your voice clearly through the suffocating crowd.

"We have to patrol the south side," Came his response, although it wasn't coming from his own mouth. Aki turned to where he heard it, and standing out from the group as if a spotlight was shown upon them was the striking image of himself walking with you close on his heels.

"Try to keep up," His duplicate continued, "I won't have time to babysit you."

"You must have pretty low expectations of me, sir."

"I have low expectations of everyone, especially softies like yourself."

Aki felt his hands ball up into fists. Man, was he always such an asshole?

"And why's that?"

"Because everyone in Public Safety ends up either-"

Aki charged forward, closing the distance between himself and you. Before he let himself say another word, he reached out and grabbed your hand. Your palm was warm, and he could feel it when you gripped back, the touch distinct and real. For a moment, his heart skipped and he hesitated, a gravity almost drawing him away, but he held on tight and let it pull him with you in tow.

He moved as quickly as he could manage, shouldering past those in the way, and when the sea of people seemed to part, he started running.

"Aki, wait!" Your voice cried out from behind him, and you were slowing down, stumbling, struggling to keep up. "Where the hell are we going?"

His vision was growing muddled, and he wasn't sure where he even was anymore. His surroundings were a confusing, vague blur, in an uncanny kind of way.

"We're getting out of here," He replied, and the next thing he said poured from his mouth thoughtlessly, "I'm not ready to die."

"You're not dead, Aki."

Aki froze in place. "I'm not?" He murmured, although to be honest, he knew a long time ago that he wasn't. He knew from the moment he first saw your face, and from the second he felt your touch so strongly when he grabbed your hand. He could feel this was only a dream that he was on the edge of waking up from.

And as if on cue, a loud boom pierced right through the languor, and the calm haze of a quiet dream was severed in favor of a heart-pounding awakening.

—

I'm not dead yet.

Aki awoke suddenly, the fog blanketing his mind rapidly fading to a clear consciousness. The first thing he heard was the crack of thunder, and once his eyes fluttered open, the second thing was the rolling thrum thereafter. He fought against the grogginess still lingering in his mind and the heavy weight of his eyelids begging to close, attempting to take in the area around him. The room was dim, covered in a veil of grey, and the gentle patter of rain could be heard outside.

He sat there for a moment, pondering the loose threads from his dream still lingering in his memory. As his senses returned, he felt something in his open hand, holding it carefully, but firm. Your touch blended so well with his dream that it took him a bit before he noticed. Fabric rustled as he turned to look at you, your head rested on the edge of the bed. You had pulled up a chair next to him, and although he couldn't tell since you were facing away, he guessed you were sleeping.

Aki felt his body relax and his heartbeat slow once he saw you, and for a minute he was settled there, simply enjoying the feeling of your hand in his. It was warm. So warm.

He could tell from his surroundings that he must be in the hospital. How long had he been asleep? Or, more importantly, how long had you been waiting for him to wake up? Hopefully he didn't worry you for too long, he thought, and as he attempted to recall how he got himself into this in the first place, the memory of the day prior began to return.

That's right, you and him were dispatched on an extermination mission for the Spike Devil, and that's where he became injured. He remembered fighting alongside you, stepping in front of you, and taking a spike right through his stomach. Aki could feel his middle wrapped in something snug, and to confirm it true, he snaked his free hand up his hospital gown. Sure enough, when his fingers met his side, he felt the smooth cotton of a bandage cloth.

The next thing he recalled was the pain. How sharp and hot it was, and then the feeling of almost dying that followed. It felt oddly calm, like slipping into a peaceful slumber, but now, the mental image it conjured utterly terrified him.

He summoned the Fox Devil, didn't he? Yeah, he definitely did. He can't forget to feed it later.

You weren't hurt, were you? No, if you were here now, you must have gotten out safely. Aki remembered your panicked voice as you begged for him to stay awake. The look on your face that shot a bullet through his heart when he realized you were crying. He remembered being held in your arms, slowly slipping away, whispering his last words…

Oh, fuck. They were supposed to be his last words, anyways, but considering he was alive and well right now, they certainly didn't turn out to be. He wasn't sure if that was a good or a bad thing.

In the moment, his mind was in shambles, and all he was concerned with was making sure something left his mouth so you could hear his voice one last time. He wanted those words to be meaningful and good, but he didn't have much time nor energy left to decide on them. The grim prospect of death was staring him right in the eyes, and he could tell from the dwindling sand within the hourglass that he didn't have much time left. He dug a hole for his own grave, and as he did, he unearthed feelings he had long since buried in the dirt. In the moment, all he could think of was not allowing those feelings to be forever buried alongside him.

Aki could feel his heart constrict in his chest. I love you. I love you. I love you. Each resoundment was like a punch to the gut, echoing throughout his head, spoken in his own voice. Out of all the things he could have said, why did he have to go with that? Maybe it would have been endearing if he had actually ended up six feet under, but in this instance, all he did was force his feelings onto you.

He shouldn't have said it. The time and place couldn't have been any more horrible. You shouldn't feel pressured to accept his confession just because he almost died, so Aki decided the first thing he's going to do when you wake up is take it all back. He'll tell you he didn't mean any of it, even if that was an outright lie.

Speaking frankly, Aki didn't know much about love, but somewhere down the line, he became pretty sure he was in love with you. He could feel it clearly in the way his heart came alive every time he was around you, and in the way your presence alone brought him so much peace. You treated his life as anything but expendable, and you cared about him in a way almost no-one else ever has. There was something about you that captivated him and made him grow him very, very attached, until before he realized what was happening, you became the most precious thing in his life.

Nevertheless, for so many reasons, he swallowed those feelings and kept them concealed. You were his partner firstly, his friend secondly, and he couldn't allow something stupid like this to get in the way of either of your jobs. Besides, if you grew closer to each other, it would only lead to more hurt when one of you inevitably departed. Aki had to keep you at a certain distance. For his own sake and yours, you two could never be more than friends.

But when you find yourself on the brink of death, something about you changes. You start thinking of all those things you've tried to keep hidden and you're met with a choice: speak now, or die beside them.

Oh, whatever. What's done is done, so it's not worth agonizing over now, is it?

Searching for something to distract himself, Aki finally decided to push himself up, doing so slowly as to not wake you. The second he rose, he immediately felt the strain of fatigue on his body, like a hook held by a taut line threatening to drag him backwards. The slightest bit of movement also triggered a steady throb in his side. He brushed strands of long hair from his face, rubbed some of the stress from his temple, and forced himself to stay up.

A dull flash of lightning brought his attention to the window beside him. Gentle droplets tapped against the glass, then steadily cascaded down, obscuring the view with blurry streaks of water. Dark, puffy clouds hung low in the sky and blotted out the light from the sun. The slosh of water could be heard when cars in the streets below passed by, headlights casting streaks of yellow that travelled across the room.

For a while, Aki watched the rain, the soft rhythm beginning to settle his thoughts. He could still feel your hand in his, and he faintly closed his fingers around it, holding it in a tender grip. The drizzle outside bounced off of the sidewalk and soaked into the soil. Where it had the chance, it collected into puddles that reflected the city's colorful glow. It could have been his imagination, but he swore the storm was only picking up.

"Aki?"

A voice calling his name stirred him, but before he could fully turn towards it, before he could even form a word in response, you had already flung forward and wrapped your arms around him. Aki's breath hitched in his throat. For a few seconds, he stalled, before he hesitantly returned the embrace, shaky arms clutching around your back. Loosely at first, but tight when he gave in.

You held him close, close enough that how glad you were to see he was okay was conveyed through your touch alone, and without a single word spoken, he understood. You could feel his heart beating through his chest and the fabric of his clothes was balled up tight in your hands.

His heartbeat. In the grand scheme of things, it was inconsequential, but hearing it now made it sound like the world's most perfect melody.

Although his lips trembled like there was something he wished to say, Aki was rendered speechless until you pulled apart. You held his shoulders, the look on his face one of relief. When he met your gaze, he got lost in your eyes, and when he spoke to end the silence, his voice was low. To hear it after so long made it sound especially comforting.

"How long have you been here?"

"Since this afternoon," You replied, "They've been letting me off work early 'cause I can't patrol without a buddy."

Aki looked away, his face tensed in thought, and you spoke again, figuring you knew what was on his mind. "You've been asleep for three days now."

Three days? He should be grateful he wasn't out for longer, but three days was still far too long to have left you worrying about him. He was so stupid, so sloppy, such an idiot. How could he let something like this happen?

Aki sighed, "I'm sorry."

"You're sorry? For what?"

"Fuck, for everything," He answered, his voice fragile, like it was glass about to break into a million little pieces. "For failing you, for making you worry about me, for what I-"

The hospital room's door opening with a creak caused Aki to trail off, his attention and yours shifted to a nurse standing in the hallway.

The nurse stated simply, "Visiting hours were over a long time ago."

Your hesitation made Aki almost think you were going to protest, but instead, you responded, "Okay, I'm leaving in a minute."

When the nurse left, you pulled Aki into another curt hug. You were about to tell him not to apologize because there was nothing to apologize for, but when he rested his head on your shoulder, you heard him say quietly into your ear, "You should leave now anyways, the rain is picking up."

As much as you didn't want to, you cut the hug short and decided to leave the conversation there, since it seemed like what Aki wanted you to do. You began shuffling around the room to find your belongings. "Yeah, I guess you're right, but I wanted to talk to you for longer."

"I know. Me too."

"I'll come back tomorrow as soon as I'm off work." You said, pulling your arms through the sleeves of your jacket.

Aki shook his head, "That's not necessary."

"You don't want me to?"

Of course he wanted you to. If he was truly listening to his heart, he would have begged for you to stay and never fucking leave his side again. But he has to listen to his head.

"No, just… Don't worry about me, okay? I'll call you when I get out, we can talk more when I'm feeling better."

"Alright. Do you need anything before I go?"

"I could use a cigarette, but I doubt they'll let me smoke in here, so..." Aki pondered with a shrug of his shoulders, but without a care for what he just said, you rooted around in your jacket pocket, tossing a lighter and then a half-full pack of cigarettes at him. He saw them out of the corner of his eye and spun to catch them with ease.

You were about to leave the room, but as you grabbed the door handle, you stopped to say one more comment, "Hey, make sure you get some rest, alright?"

"Didn't I tell you not to worry about me?"

In response, you only chuckled.

Aki spoke between the cigarette already placed between his teeth, "Be safe."

"I will, see you later. Call me."

Aki waved, and after catching one last glimpse of him, you left and closed the door behind you.

—

Aki never called you.

After almost a week of not hearing from him, you decided to take matters into your own hands. You went to the hospital first, only to find his room empty upon opening the door. You flagged down a nurse, who informed you he left a few days ago. Against the wishes of his doctor, might they add. Yeah, sounds just like him.

So next, you tried to call his phone, but of course, it rang infinitely without an answer. When that plan failed, you didn't waste any time trying to leave voicemails. You got in your car and drove right to his apartment.

Considering what the nurse told you, it wasn't hard to believe he was ignoring you because he was trying to get some rest, but considering what you knew about Aki, the real reason was probably because he didn't want you to fuss over him. It was either that or he was too embarrassed to talk to you.

You parked in front of his apartment and then made your way to the door. The sun hung low in the sky, casting orange ribbons of light upon everything it touched. A sharp chill was settled in the air, leaving goosebumps on your arms in its wake. You raised your knuckle and knocked.

No answer.

You rung the doorbell, hearing the muffled chime resound from inside.

No answer, again.

The lights weren't on, but his car was parked in the lot, so he definitely was here. Was he okay? Something didn't happen to him, did it? You're starting to get a little nervous.

You were about to try knocking at the door again, but to your surprise, it unlocked with a click. You hurriedly moved your hand away, and when it swung open, you couldn't hold back a sigh in relief.

Aki leant on the doorframe, his hair down and an utter mess. He was wearing comfortable clothing, what you assumed to be his pajamas, and a weary look was present in his eyes. Maybe he actually was resting after all. He eyed you up and down before asking in a flat tone, "What are you doing here? Do you need something?"

You scoffed, "You said you would call me and you didn't, idiot."

"Oh, sorry." Aki replied, his attitude standoffish, and he averted his eyes, looking down at the floor.

Could he be any less subtle about this? At least you were here now, so he couldn't avoid you for any longer.

"Can you let me in? It's cold out here." You said, crossing your arms.

Aki appeared to be unsure, but regardless, he opened the door further and moved aside, allowing you to walk in before he closed it behind you. The second you entered, a heavy warmth settled over your body like a cocoon. The familiar smell of his apartment and the distinct musk of his cigarettes filled your lungs. The scent was comforting, albeit a little suffocating, but it smelled exactly like him, and that's what you loved about it. His living room was lit solely by the rays of light shining through the balcony's sliding glass door.

He wobbled past you, and before he sunk down on the couch, you noticed how he was clutching his side. "There's beer in the fridge if you want one," He said, grabbing a can from the coffee table in front of him.

You rolled your eyes, but decided to take him up on that offer, walking over to the kitchen. "Isn't it bad to drink while you're recovering?"

Aki brought the can to his lips, head tilted back as he took a drink. After a swallow, he simply stated, "It helps take the edge off."

After rummaging around in the fridge, you grabbed a beer can of your own, cracking it open with a satisfying hiss. The bitter taste of alcohol pricked at your throat when you took a sip, and as you made your way to the living room, you looked at Aki again. He didn't look to be in much pain, but he was still holding his stomach like something was sore there. His expression was plagued by exhaustion and his hair was in total disarray. He probably hadn't even brushed it since he got home. Most curiously, his arm was wrapped in bandages stained a dark red from dried blood.

"Aki, are you alright?" You asked, plopping next to him, the couch sinking under your weight.

"I'm fine."

"You don't look fine." You snapped back after his curt response, pointing to his arm as he brought the beer can to his mouth again, "How'd you get that? Have you been changing your bandages at all?"

"I fed the Fox Devil flesh from my arm in exchange for using its power."

"You didn't answer my second question."

Aki looked away, unresponsive. There was your answer, you supposed. You took another swig of your beer before setting it on the table and pushing yourself up.

"Where are you going?" Aki asked, peering up at you.

"Bathroom."

This was far from the first time you'd hung out at Aki's place, so you knew exactly where the bathroom was. You dug through all the cabinets and drawers until you found everything you were looking for: a roll of bandages, a bottle of rubbing alcohol, a washcloth, and his hairbrush.

When you returned, Aki immediately saw everything you were holding and a slight look of annoyance formed on his face. "You don't have to-"

"Come on, let me help you." You interrupted, setting everything down on the table besides the brush, which you held in your hand. "Face forward, I'm gonna brush your hair first."

Aki gave a few more flustered comments, but you ignored them. You stood behind him and grabbed his chin when he tried to twist around, tilting his head back until it was forwards. Realizing there was no sense in fighting you, Aki sighed rather dramatically and reluctantly kept still, allowing you to run the hair brush through his tangles.

You were gentle, as much as you possibly could be, anyways. Aki tried his hardest to keep still. It was impossible for you to tell from this angle, but if you could see his flushed face, you would know he was totally embarrassed. Not embarrassed enough to stop you though, of course. It's fine if you wanted to brush his hair, because he definitely wasn't enjoying this and his heart definitely wasn't pounding right now.

"Hey, Aki, I have something I've been meaning to ask you."

"Yeah, what is it?"

Oh, were you finally going to ask him about his last words? It's okay, he already prepared what he was going to say, so it'd be fine. It'd be awkward, but he'll get over it, you'll get over it, and everything will go back to normal.

"On our last mission, why did you step in front of me?"

Why did he… do what? For a second, Aki was taken aback. This isn't what he expected you to say, not at all, in fact. Was this really all you were wondering about?

At first, he isn't sure why. In the heat of the moment, the only thing in control was his reflexes, and when he protected you, he did so without a conscious thought. But the more he thought about it, the more the answer became obvious to him.

Aki is used to losing partners. It's nothing new, and even though he tells himself he's not going to get attached, he always does. When they die, reduced to nothing but ash, their souls burn on in his memory, haunting him until he drowns in salty tears and the thick smoke of another cigarette. They're replaced with hardly any time given to mourn, and the cycle repeats itself. The world discards them, but he never will.

The thing is, you're not just another partner to him. You're not just someone who can be easily replaced. You meant so much to him, more than you would ever really know. If you died, you'd be taking a piece of him with you, and the void left behind is one he would never be able to fill again. Not with anyone else. Not with the cigarettes or the alcohol or the rush from fighting devils. Nothing else would compare.

Aki is tired of this, and he realized he was a long time ago. He's sick of the world giving him something he thinks he can cherish, but no matter how tight he holds on, it always ends up slipping away, right between his grasp. He can't do this anymore. He can't sit back and be complacent, allowing the cycle to repeat itself over and over again until everything he finds beautiful is wilted, all right before his eyes. He can't sit back and let this shitty world win.

He doesn't care about all the pain he's in now. The temporary sting from this injury doesn't compare to how much it hurts to lose someone he cares about, a wound that aches everlasting. And he knows he could have died, he knows the feeling of death to an uncomfortable degree. But if keeping you safe means giving up his life for yours, he'd do it in a heartbeat, and he did.

Hah, finally, he understands her now. He finally gets all those letters he read that day, why she wanted him to quit so badly, why she kept him alive. This was what she must have been feeling back then, wasn't it? And when he protected you, must he have been feeling the same emotions she was?

"Aki, did you hear me?"

"I did it because I didn't want to see you hurt."

You stopped for a moment, before exhaling a long sigh. "I don't want to see you hurt either, you know. You could have died."

"I'm sorry."

"Don't apologize, just next time, let's both be more careful. I don't want you dying on me any time soon."

Aki didn't say anything back, half expecting you to ask him something else, but the discussion stagnated.

I don't want you dying on me any time soon. How could one little sentence carry so much weight? He'll try, God, he'll try. He'll do anything and everything in his power to stay with you for as long as he can.

By this point, you finished brushing out his hair, and it was soft to the touch when you ran your fingers through to make sure you didn't miss any knots. One thing's for sure, it looked a hell of a lot better than when you started.

"All done," You said while moving to stand in front of him, setting the brush down on the table, "I'm going to do your bandages now, take off your shirt."

"Huh?"

"I said I'm going to do your bandages now. I'll do the wound on your side first since that's gonna be the harder one."

"No, no," Aki shook his head, reaching for the bandages, "I'll do it."

You promptly put your hand on his and pushed it away. "No, you won't. Aki, please. Let me help you."

Although his mouth opened like he was about to argue, he ultimately kept it shut, the pleading tone in your voice convincing him. He sunk back on the couch and his gaze avoided yours as he reached down, grasping the hem of his shirt and pulling it up and over his head, the faintest blush dusted on his cheeks when he tossed it aside.

It's the first time you've seen Aki without a shirt, and under it, he's a lot more fit than you expected him to be. His body is lean, but with defined muscle. Especially in his biceps, which you would assume is from wielding a sword. Bruises kissed his skin and scars decorated every last inch. You could imagine each one telling a different story: some of sorrow, some of triumph, but all a reminder that through everything, he lived. Just below his ribs, stained bandages were wrapped tightly.

"Uhm, how should I…" You stood in front of him, leaning down, attempting to figure out the best way to go about this. After feeling around, you located the end of the bandage, pulling on it and beginning to unwrap it from around his body. You could see the gentle rise and fall of his chest and hear the sound of his breathing: soft, and a little shaky. The angle was awkward and quickly caused an ache in your back, so to alleviate it, you rested your knee on his legs.

When the last of the bandage was unwrapped, you finally got a good look at his wound, and the only thing you could think was this would definitely leave his biggest scar yet. The cut was sealed by stitches and travelled up the length of his abdomen, dried blood coated around it.

You took the bottle of rubbing alcohol from the table, then the washcloth, pouring a small amount onto the surface. When you turned back to him, you decided the easiest way to continue would be to climb into his lap.

Aki couldn't hide the blush on his cheeks anymore, nor could he stifle the way his breath hitched when he felt your weight settle on top of him. You were so close, way too close, and when you shuffled against him, his entire face suddenly felt very, very hot. He could feel the warmth all the way from his cheeks to the tips of his ears.

"Alright, this is probably going to hurt. Are you ready?"

"Uh, yeah."

God, why was he so embarrassed? Why couldn't he calm down? His heart was thrumming against his ribcage, pounding so hard he wouldn't be surprised if you could hear it through his chest like he could hear it in his eardrums. With you pressed up against his lap, he could admire the details on your face like he never could before. The curve of your nose, (Was it always so perfect?) the color of your eyes, (Were they always this beautiful?) each and every mark and… and he didn't know where the hell to put his hands. Maybe he should… No, it'd be best if he just-

"Ow! Holy fucking shit that hurts, why didn't you warn me?!"

"I did, you dumbass."

The second you pressed the rag to his cut, a sharp sting shot through him and he flinched back instinctively. When you pressed it to him again, he tensed up and subsequently jerked away.

"Aki, you need to hold still."

"Sorry."

You gave him a second to compose himself before trying once more. Aki winced and swore under his breath, but he was able to keep still this time. You cleaned around his wound carefully, taking the washcloth away to give him a break whenever he squirmed or made it obvious he was in pain. Searching for something to hold onto, he grabbed your shoulder, squeezing tight to ground himself.

"You shouldn't have left the hospital so early, this looks horrible." You ascertain.

"I- shit, ow… I need to get back to work, I've-" He cuts himself off with a sharp intake of air, "I've lost enough time already."

The pain stung like all hell, but there was something about being looked after by you that felt nice, almost calming, in a way. There was also something about how you fit in his lap that felt so, so right. Aki could hardly get over that feeling, and when he was squirming too much so you gently held his waist to keep him still, your soft touch against his bare skin was tender and heavenly and perfect. Any more of this, and his heart might pop like a balloon.

"I'm almost done," You said softly, your tone comforting, "You're doing good, hang in there for me."

Aki gave a quick nod and you continued. You cleaned the entire length of the wound, and once you thought your work was sufficient, the next thing you grabbed from the table was the fresh roll of bandages. You began wrapping them around him, winding them up the width of his body once, then twice, then a third time for good measure. When you were finished, you asked him, "Are you okay?"

Aki merely nodded again.

"Are the bandages too tight?"

He shook his head. You secured the bandage with a knot, and when you started to slide off of him, Aki suddenly stopped you by grabbing your arm.

He can't let this moment end. Not right now. Not when he needs it. Not when he's needed you for so long.

"Wait," He said nervously, swallowing, "Can we… Can we stay like this for a little bit longer?"

You smiled, "Of course."

You slid back into his lap, carefully straddling him, and Aki couldn't help but feel the way your body connected to his was like puzzle pieces finally fitting together. He's not sure if he planned to or if it was purely by natural reflex, but he was a slight bit bolder this time when he allowed his hands to find your waist and hold it faintly through the fabric of your clothes.

"Are you alright?" You asked him.

"Yeah, I'm fine. I just really missed you."

To be honest, that didn't even begin to scratch the surface. Aki missed you so goddamn much. He longed for your touch, for your mere presence alone. To have you in his lap now was a blessing, and what he didn't tell you was on that day, when he woke up at the hospital and you wrapped your arms around him, the feeling which leapt through his heart was the most he's felt in a long, long time.

Fuck, he was so stupid. Why did he ever try to push you away? Why did he think that was a good idea?

"I missed you too." You replied.

"I'm sorry, I should have called you."

"Aki," You said with a half-hearted laugh, "It's okay."

"No," Aki shook his head, his eyebrows furrowing, "It's not, and I'm sorry. It's not okay for me to get hurt so badly I'm out for three days, or for me to ignore you, and I won't let it happen again. I promise."

His expression seemed to soften, and the next thing to leave his mouth was spoken a little quieter, a little softer, and much, much warmer.

"I don't ever want to be apart from you, not for that long. You matter too much to me."

The way he said it so genuinely took you by surprise and ignited a little feeling inside your heart. It was a few seconds before you responded, "I don't want to be apart from you either."

The room grew silent, and in between the two of you, only deep breaths and lingering gazes behind heavy blinks of eyelashes were exchanged. The sun is nearly set by now, the day nearly spent. Twilight casts the faintest lush glow of orange on half of Aki's face, and the other is obscured by the dark shadow the light creates. The way it makes him look is practically ethereal, and your hand starts to drag up, up, until you're caressing his jawline, cupping his cheek, feeling warmth radiate from his skin when he leans into your touch.

Aki's not really sure what it was, or how it happened, but something fell into place right then. A want turned into a need turned into a desire, and Aki knew, he knew he was done for, but quite frankly, he didn't care.

He shouldn't be doing this, should he? His fingers shouldn't be trailing under your shirt. They shouldn't be shaking, climbing slowly upwards until he can study your waist, the dip of your sides, the outline of your ribs. He shouldn't be losing himself to you, nor should he be allowing you to touch him so earnestly, so intimately.

With one hand, you toy with the piercings on his earlobes, and the other you run up the back of his neck, tangling it in his hair until he can feel tingles throughout his scalp. Meanwhile, he touches you with the delicacy of feather-light fingertips against your skin, like he was scared you might shatter if he wasn't careful, and the nervousness of unsure movements and trembling hands. And when he does so, he shouldn't be wanting more. If he shouldn't be doing this, why did it feel so good, and so right?

All he knew anymore was right now he wanted, no, he needed you, more of you. More of your touch, more of everything you'd be willing to give him, and then some. He needed you to take him somewhere far away from this world, because when you touch him like this, he doesn't feel empty anymore. He doesn't want it to end, even if he should, even if it would be the smarter choice. Truth is, he's been cold inside ever since that snowy day, and this is the most warmth in his soul he thinks he's felt since then.

You're his partner, nothing more. But in this space away from reality, inhabited by just the two of you, the world of devils doesn't really fucking matter.

Maybe it's because he was a little tipsy, or maybe it's just because he was high on you, but his mind was a dream-filled haze, and with a budding, lovesick ache in his chest, Aki felt words blossom until they were falling from his mouth like petals, words he thought he would never say again.

"I love you."

It came so naturally, as did his affectionate hold on your chin between his thumb and finger, as did the way you whispered I love you too in return without missing a beat.

Do you? It felt like a dream, but if it was, this was one Aki definitely didn't want to wake up from.

I do, always have. It wasn't a dream, it was real. You loved him. You said you loved him, and he didn't even know how to process it. He didn't know where to begin. But with you right here, he didn't think, he didn't complicate it, he just believed you. He let his heart take control and allowed everything to unfold.

His eyes dropped to your lips, and then gravity started to pull him in closer, closer, listlessly, his hand seeming to guide you forwards in the same way. His voice was quiet when he asked, Can I kiss you? and your response only came in the form of eyes fluttering closed and your mouth pressed against his.

His lips were soft, hesitant, woven with sparks, filled with a longing he didn't even know he had, and to him, yours felt like a dizzying sense of relief. All of his longing, all of his infatuation. All of the times he was so close to you but stopped himself from doing anything more. All of the indirect kisses shared through sticks of cigarettes. All of it led up to this. And yet, the moment was cut short when he pulled away almost as quickly as he leaned in.

When you met his gaze, you smiled, and told him, "You can kiss me like you really mean it, you know."

"Like… Like how?"

"Like this."

Your lips sought his again, but this time they pressed harder, for longer. In between struggles for breath, your mouths parted. Suddenly, your hands were becoming lost in his hair and he was kissing you much deeper than he ever could have expected or imagined. He tasted vaguely like cigarettes and beer, the ones you both always smoke, the kind you both always drink. Comfortingly familiar.

It had been forever since he'd kissed someone, and never since he'd been kissed like this, so everything was clumsy and messy. The dance became one you were teaching him how to do, and eventually, he started to get the hang of it. He was hesitant at first, but when he pulled you closer by your waist and you rocked your hips hard against where he was stiff beneath you, all nervousness and any attempt to control himself went out the window.

Sucking on your tongue has him feeling lightheaded, and with soft sighs and gasps echoed between each other, it was then that Aki realized: you didn't just taste like his cigarettes, you felt like them too. Your lips on his felt like the way nicotine soothes your lungs, working its way into your blood until you're left hopelessly addicted.

When you pulled apart, he was breathing heavily, eyes filled with lust and an almost divine sense of adoration. Your hand pressed to his chest, the steady beat of his heart thrumming beneath, and you pushed him until he settled backwards. Tender kisses were blessed to his cheek, his jaw, his neck, where he tilted his head up to give you better access, and then you kissed the Adam's apple in his throat, where he let out the sweetest whine.

Your lips traced downwards, and where they did, they wrote words Aki wished he could etch forever into his skin. There was a kiss on his collarbone, then one on his chest, over a faded scar. Another, on top of a bruise, and although still sore, the pain was drowned out by tingles of pleasure.

If it's possible for heaven to exist on Earth, Aki thinks this might be what it's like.

Somewhere down the line, his hand met yours. When exactly? He doesn't know, but what he does know is your fingers fit into the crooks of his too perfectly to be a coincidence. He knows it's ridiculous, but it has him thinking perhaps, his hands weren't meant to summon devils or hold the hilt of a blade. They were meant for something more like this.

Somewhere down the line more, he's asking, Can I touch you? and the hand that's free is moving on its own the second he sees you nod, his palm exploring wherever it oh so desperately wants to. It slips under your bra, caressing and squeezing your breasts, rolling the nipple between delicate fingers. Callouses morph his touch into a mix of rough and gentle, providing the slightest bitter reminder.

A moment of clarity finally befalls him when he notices your fingers playing with the drawstrings of his pants. A moment which whispers to him, Hey, this is your last chance to get a grip, are you going to take it? He chooses to pretend he didn't hear.

Actually, he chooses to go directly against the little voice in his head when he grabs your hand, his fingertips brushing against your knuckles as he starts to guide it down, down, right to where he's craving it to be. There's a gnawing hunger for more that festers in his heart, in his stomach, and in between his legs and… For fuck's sake, when did he get so hard? He's so turned on it hurts… Was all of this just from a little kissing?

He's hopeless. Way more hopeless than he thought, way more needy than he thought. And who can blame him? No-one has ever touched him like this or loved him so strongly, not once in his life. Certainly you can't blame him for being a little desperate.

So if he wants you to touch him, you will. If he wants you to make him feel good, you'll make him feel even better, all because he deserves it. He works so goddamn hard, he's been through so much. He deserves to be happy, he deserves to be pleasured, he deserves to be loved. He deserves to have a break from how horrible the world can be and indulge in something much sweeter.

You know exactly what he needs, and so, you give it to him. Grant him a little taste to hold over his appetite. And God, when you do, Aki's mind is so far down the gutter there's truly no hope of saving him. (Not like there ever really was, anyway.)

"Fuck," Aki swears under his breath once you palm the shape of his dick through his pants, nearly stuttering. When he speaks again, his voice is barely uttering the words, but they roll off his mouth so effortlessly that he hardly knows what he's saying anymore. "Right there baby, just like that, holy shit…"

It doesn't take long before his legs are starting to squirm and his head is tossed back, needy moans punctuated by his Adam's apple bobbing in his throat. His hand flies to cover his mouth in an attempt to muffle the noise, and his hips rut upwards in a desperate plea for friction. Even though you're only rubbing him through his sweatpants, the feeling that pumps through his veins, settles in his core: it's addictive. He can feel himself sitting thick and heavy against his thigh, leaking out all over it. Your touch feels so damn good he doesn't even notice when your hand slips down, past the hem, until it starts feeling a whole hell of a lot better.

One less layer of fabric makes all the difference. You can feel the outline of his cock more prominently, big and incredibly hard, the cotton of his boxers damp and slightly see-through over the tip. He needs something to hold onto, anything, so he grabs your waist with a firm, white-knuckled grip. The way you're squeezing him and rolling your palm is driving him fucking crazy and he knows he can't hold back anymore, not when it feels this amazing, not when he wants it this bad. All it takes is one more grind into your hand before he's on the edge, and when everything is tumbling over, he's riding it out and letting it happen.

Cries of your name are entangled with gasps for air as he finishes, cumming right in his boxers. His back arches into you, his entire body tensing before it abruptly goes limp. His moans are so perfect, and the way he whimpers even after his release is absolutely adorable.

You give him a moment to catch his breath and recollect himself, his chest rising and falling with force. You reach up, brushing his messy hair from his face and tucking it behind his ears. Then, you lean forward, lips connecting with the nape of his neck. The skin gives between your teeth, and he sighs when you softly suck a deep mark, one you know will last 'til morning.

He must be so pent up. That's the only explanation behind him cumming before he's barely been touched, before you've barely even done anything. He must have never been touched by anyone like this. Hell, he probably didn't even touch himself like this. There must be so much built up tension, so much that he's starved for any kind of touch, so much that he'd get hard from just a kiss, from just you sitting in his lap.

You want to touch him more, give him more, give him everything until he's whole again. You can help him relieve some of that tension, couldn't you?

You pull back, admiring the bloom of dark purple on his neck, before kissing his jaw. Then, you trail up, where you nibble at the metal piercing on his earlobe, kiss the shell of his ear, and whisper, "Can you keep going?"

Aki's mind is in a complete daze when he answers, his voice light, like he's high, "Yeah…"

Your thumb hooks around the waistband of his pants and the briefs he's made a mess out of, and he raises his hips to help you pull both garments down just as far as necessary. You know his dick wants to come free so bad, and when it does, it springs up and taps against his abdomen.

Aki can hear you spit into your hand, hear his heart pounding in his ears like a drum. He knows what you're going to do, but he's still nervous. The anticipation might kill him, but he's too embarrassed to look, so when your hand suddenly wraps around him, the surprise causes him to jolt and his breath to catch in his throat.

His pretty cock has a certain weight to it, a certain curve and thickness which makes your fist fit perfectly around it. Paying careful attention to the high he just came down from, you stroke him slowly, gently, almost in a lazy manner, sliding off of his lap and making yourself comfortable beside him so you're able to get a more desirable grip. The mixture of his slick and your spit is enough to make your hand glide up and down easily, echoing a soft, wet sound. Your shoulder is pressed to his, and here, you're able to utter the quietest of words into his ear.

"Does it feel good?"

Aki nods. "Mhmm…"

"How good? Tell me."

"Really good, really really good… Ah, fuck-" Aki momentarily cuts himself off when your palm swipes against the sensitive tip, his hips rocking upwards desperately, "Please, don't stop."

It feels amazing. Being touched by someone else like this, and that someone being the one he's so desperately in love with. It's like nothing he's ever felt before. It's making his head spin, like he can see stars. He's already fully hard again, and he can feel himself fucking throbbing.

"Do you want more?"

"Yes…" Aki groans between sucks of air through his teeth. He's thrusting into your tight grip shamelessly now, his dick sliding in and out of the hole you've made with your fingers, to the point where you don't even have to move it anymore. He's whining, getting himself off on your hand and dribbling precum all over it, all by his own doing.

"What do you want?"

"I- You- I…" His attempts to get the words out mostly end in failure until you hear him swallow, and with a sigh, he admits, "I want to fuck you."

His comment is direct, way more inappropriate than you thought possible for him to say, and goes straight between your legs. It's hard to keep up your previous confidence now, but still, you tease, "Do you? How bad do you want it?"

"I want it so bad, I want more of you, I want to be inside you," Aki begs, each sentence punctuated by a breath as he fucks your hand, "I need you so goddamn much. You don't understand."

"Yeah? You wanna fuck me so badly, huh? I can tell."

"Yes, yes… Fuck- I'm gonna cum again, I'm gonna cum, oh my God-"

You jerk him off as his thrusts take on an unsteady rhythm and all of the sudden, Aki is falling apart in your grasp, moaning as he cums all over his chest and his stomach. It shoots out in ropes, and even when he thinks he's done, it still drips out of his cock, coating your hand and making your fingers sticky. And after everything, even once he's came, he's still half-way hard and thrusting slowly into your hand like he can't get enough.

You abruptly take your hand off of him and he whines in dismay. You lick your fingers first, then shift back on his lap and bend down, dragging your tongue from the bottom to the top. Over his stomach, over his bandages, up his abs and over his chest, all the way until he's squirming and you've licked up every last drop of his cum.

When you're finished, you comment, "I think I understand a little."

"Huh?" Aki replies, still catching his breath.

"I mean I understand when you said you need me."

"Do I make it that obvious?"

You smirk and plant a faint kiss on his lips, one that makes his heart jump a little in his chest, and then pull back to speak against them, "You always have."

Aki grabs your chin and goes to drag you in for another, but he's interrupted when you're blabbering, "Wait, wait, wait, wait," and pulling yourself away from him.

"What?"

You point to where his arm is wrapped in bandages, "I need to take care of that. I'll give you what you want after."

Aki can't even attempt to hide his disappointment before it's plastered all over his face. "Are you serious? Can't it wait?"

"You're not going to want to do it later, so no, it can't."

Ugh, he knows you're right. Once he gets started with you, he's not going to be able to stop, and either you're going to forget, or both of you are going to end up too exhausted. He knows he has to listen to you, but fuck if it isn't frustrating to have to control himself right now. Honestly, he's not sure if he can, and he definitely doesn't want to. He needs you and he's tired of waiting any longer, so he brazenly asks, "Can you do it while I'm inside? On my lap?"

You brush off the vulgarity of his comment as to not let it affect you, but it's hard to ignore the feeling between your legs when you start to imagine it. "I can't multitask like that. I want this as badly as you do, you know."

"I won't move. I just want to feel you."

He seems awfully sure of himself with that statement, so sure you almost believe him, so sure you're starting to consider it…

"Are you sure you can't wait?"

"I can't."

"You're annoyingly stubborn, you know that?"

Aki watched your hands find the bottom of your shirt, where you grasped at the hem and pulled, wrestling it and your bra over your head before tossing both articles of clothing in a heap on the floor. You reached for your pants next, and he asked, "Is that a yes then?"

"It will be if you help me." Came your reply, your pants and underwear discarded at the same time, just as hastily.

"With what…?"

Your answer comes in the form of you straddling him, grabbing his hand, and bringing his fingers to your lips.

The sight that follows is one Aki simply cannot begin to tear his eyes away from. It's a bit befuddling at first: the way your mouth parts, and the way you lick a prudent stripe of saliva up the length of his middle and ring finger. When you take the digits further, pushing them down your throat, wet and hot tongue swirling around them, Aki's breath gets caught in his lungs, and it's there that he realizes what you're trying to do.

His gaze remains fixated to the display. You're sucking on his fingers, gagging, practically choking on them with tears pricking at the corners of your eyes. They're getting all wet and messy with your spit and drool. It's such a fucking cocktease, and it's making him imagine things he shouldn't be imagining, but things he absolutely needs. He doesn't protest when you drag his fingers out, prop yourself up on your knees, and proceed to guide them right between your legs.

Aki has no idea what to do and he's totally transfixed by you, so he allows you to press them inside you, and then he follows your lead, shoving them in the rest of the way. You groan when his fingers fill you, leaning over and whispering quietly in his ear, reassuring him, "I'll show you what to do, it's okay."

You've taken his fingers all the way down to the knuckle. They're slender, trained, and fucking long, much longer than yours. They reach so deep inside, feel so amazing stretching you out.

Aki really, really wants to make you feel good, and that's the only thing running through his mind as he concentrates fully on you. On the feeling of your cunt around his fingers, on your moans, on your beautiful face. He needs to return the favor for you, and he desperately wants to see how you look when you're overwhelmed by pleasure, hear how you sound when you can't hold back, and he wants all of it to be because of him.

So he pays the closest attention. His fingers are slick from your saliva and spit, and he takes note of the way you're pressing them in and out. When you instruct him to curl them, he does so, and when you're screaming, There! Right there! he commits that spot, that movement of his fingers to memory.

He's a rather fast learner. You understood this when you kissed him, but with the way he's working you, massaging that perfect spot inside again and again, you've become aware of it even more so. Your instructions were no longer needed, and Aki took the liberty of fucking you with his fingers all on his own, scissoring them, until you're getting wetter and wetter around the digits. They're so damn good to you, so perfect, as perfect as the way they sit between the crooks of your own. Surely, his hands were made for you.

"So wet… It's squeezing so much." He mumbled quietly, half to himself, almost as if he's in awe.

Searching for more stimulation, you maneuvered a hand to your clit, rubbing tight, hasty circles. Aki noticed your movement and your noises starting to pick up, so he innocently asked, "Can you show me what you're doing?"

When you grab his hand and pull him out of you, Aki can feel the resistance, as if his fingers are being sucked back inside, and the thoughts that immediately manifest in his head would be enough to send him to hell ten times over. They come out covered in your slick, and you press them to your clit carefully.

It takes him a little bit longer until he's got a good grasp on this one. He keeps a slow, deliberate pace, mindful of how your body reacts and the manner you're guiding him. He doesn't always find the sweet spot at first, but each time he manages to, it feels like utter bliss. In due time, he begins to pull more noises from you, and when your focus starts to shift from teaching him to grinding against his fingers, searching for more of your own pleasure, he starts to take the initiative.

His fingers rub precise halos right where he can tell you're most sensitive. They're so disciplined, so dead on, and fuck, he's teasing you with them. Rubbing your clit determinedly before slowing down, stopping, edging, before starting up again, and repeating the process. His dick aches just by watching you and knowing he's making you come undone in this way, so he's trying to draw this out, make this last as long as possible.

"Is this good?" Aki asks curiously, sweetly.

"Yes! It feels amazing, oh my God, Aki-"

His name falling so deliciously from your lips makes his heart flutter before it goes right between his legs, making his cock throb. It's an abrupt, awkward realization when Aki notices he's been dribbling precum all over his abdomen, and probably all over his bandages too. Damn, between that and him finishing all over them, he's created more work for you, hasn't he?

Your knees feel like they're going to give out, so you rest your hands on Aki's shoulders for support. Your breath is coming out in ragged gasps as you feel your release already close, and when your head dips, Aki is using his free hand to hold you up, support you, lovingly muttering into your ear, "I wanna make you cum baby. Are you gonna cum all over my fingers?"

Everything in your core builds to a fever pitch, and all at once, you're wrapping your arms around him as you finish, clumsily grinding your hips against whatever part of his hand you can find, making it messy. His arm goes around your back, and he praises while you tremble, voice smooth and resolute, "Just like that baby, just like that. You're so beautiful when you cum."

Aki holds you while you come down, and you almost, almost forgot what your objective was going into all this, until you can feel the bandages on his arm rubbing against your bare back. You're a bit reluctant to move, but you'd be lying if you said you weren't eager for more, eager to get his cock inside you. His fingers were one thing, but they weren't enough, and almost as if he can read your mind, Aki whispers low and breathy into your ear, "Do you want my dick, sweetheart?"

He's asking you, but it's mostly his way of telling you, of prompting you. Telling you he wants you too, right now. And God you want it, need it, and you really don't need him to tell you twice.

Your hand finds his cock and he sighs as you pump the length a few times, getting it wet with his precum. It's so hard, thick, and throbbing steadily beneath your palm. With how needy he is, it's impossible to tell he already came two times before this.

You grasp the base and hover your hips over him, aligning it until the tip presses right against your entrance, prodding, teasing, so close but not quite and making your cunt pulse around nothing. He grabs your chin, tilting your head until he can look at you. His eyes meet yours, and behind the kind, cerulean gaze, is nothing but lust and desire.

"Do you want it?" He asks again, unflinching.

"Yes, I want it, yes…"

"Then take all of it."

Aki grabs your waist and pulls, guiding you to sink down on his cock. He's whimpering the moment he's inside of you, but he doesn't get greedy, continuing to drag you down awfully slow as he opts to enjoy the feeling of filling you up inch by inch.

Your cunt is squeezing him so much, sucking him in, taking all of him so well. He's not sure what to focus on: your beautiful face contorted in pleasure, eyelids fluttering closed, or the near addictive view of his dick becoming buried further and further inside. The sight is somehow enough to make him even harder, and he can't contain himself from rolling his hips upward in tandem with pulling you on him further.

It's you, it's him inside you, and holy shit, it's a feeling that's hardly set in yet. It doesn't hit him fully until he's stuffed in to the hilt, filling your stomach, with your weight settled on top of him. In this moment, it feels as though now, more than ever, the love he'd kept hidden for so long is finally tangible, finally real. He almost moves, nearly thrusts up, but he stutters and stops himself before he can once he sees you reaching behind you for the roll of bandages.

Fuck, he almost forgot.

"These first," You gesture to the bandage wrapped around his sides, speaking through ragged breaths, "You got them filthy."

"Sorry."

Despite the calm veneer you're trying your best to maintain, it's clear you're hurrying, unwrapping the bandages with haste and a hint of desperation. They're tossed to the side without a care when you're done. Aki's chest heaves with every shaky breath, so you instruct him to hold it, otherwise the bandages won't be secure. He complies, and when he does, he can hear his heartbeat in his ears, feel it pulse in his dick; it's near agonizing to keep still, and he hardly can.

When you're finished there, you reach for his arm next. Thankfully, this wound isn't anywhere near as bad as his other one, but the press of the rag against it is still enough to give him a sharp sting. Trying to avoid hurting him too much, you slow down a bit and focus, well, as much focus as the situation will allow.

Aki shifts beneath you, his hips fidgeting, fingers of his hand still held deft to your waist drumming against your skin just to keep himself busy. You can tell he's desperate for something more when you feel him twitch inside your stomach. Right now, he's so enthralled in you, in the feeling of being inside you, in being one with you. It's not long before the pain blends with pleasure and he doesn't even notice it anymore. He'll let you do whatever you want to his arm while he stares at you, drinking in the view like this'll be his last time seeing it.

You wrap the roll of bandages around his arm once. He's shuddering, and he can't resist rutting his hips up a bit, just barely so that you won't notice, but just enough to get an ounce of relief.

Twice. You've almost wrapped up the length of his arm. One more time, just one more time around and he'll get to fuck you.

Three times. He's so dizzy the room is spinning.

Four times. Fucking hell, he can't handle being teased like this, was now really the time to be this thorough?

Finally, finally, after the fifth time, you wrap the last of the bandage around his arm, tear it off and tie it. The second you've tossed the roll aside, his hands are grabbing fistfuls of your hair to pull your lips onto his. The kiss is frantic, sloppy, and he's using way too much tongue, but you don't have the time to correct him, nor does he have the patience to be corrected.

When Aki pulls away, he wipes the spit from his mouth with the back of his hand while thrusting into you, wasting no time at all to satisfy everything he'd been craving and fulfill the pleasure he was desperately waiting for. His grip on your waist guides you to bounce shallowly on his cock. He doesn't let you go up far before he's dragging you back down again, longing to stay deep inside you. Each press down has his eyes threatening to roll back into his head, and each thrust up has him moaning a pathetic string of swears, practically whining between every word.

"Fuck, fuck… You feel so- a-ah, fucking good baby, oh my God-"

He reaches so deep inside you, and when he guides your body by your waist, it's not only for him, but for your needs as well. He tilts, curved cock fucking into you at just the right angle to hit the perfect spot like he was made for it. His hips are moving with reckless abandon now, rolling upwards to an unsteady, ragged rhythm. You hold his face, caress his parted lips with your thumb, feel his hot breath ghosting against your skin, and suddenly, he stops. His hips halt as he firmly holds you still, and his voice is rough, a bit hoarse when he gasps out, "Can we change positions?"

You're a bit confused, but give an affirming nod. Aki pulls you off of him gently, slowly, savoring the feeling for as long as he can. When he's out, he uses his strength to easily twist you around until your back is on the couch and he's oriented above you, pulling his pants and boxers off the rest of the way and discarding them on the floor. Long, dark hair falls over his face in a mess, and he reaches up to comb a hand through, pushing it out of his vision so he can see all of you properly.

"Are you okay with this? Are you comfortable?" Aki asks at barely more than a whisper, his eyes locked onto yours as he grips your thighs and tenderly pushes them open. When the couch has no more space to provide and your leg is about to slip off, he grabs it and tosses it over his shoulder.

"Yeah, I'm okay," You answer, continuing to say, "Aki, don't push yourself. You're still injured, remember?"

"I won't, I'll go slow. Don't worry." He affirms with the faintest smile.

Aki's never been dirty-minded, but when he looks at you, allows his hands to take to your body, palms gliding up every curve of your form, his mind can't help but wander. You bring out something in him that he's never experienced before, something that makes him want to have his way with you. It's awfully strange to him, that feeling of wanting, of yearning. For so long, he's wanted a lot of things and never got them, but he's never desired something this selfish before. Every second of your time, every inch of your body, your everything, he wants all to himself. It feels good to want something, someone.

Aki's never been much of a daydreamer, either, but he can't say he hasn't imagined this from time to time. Meaningless sex has never appealed to him, but sex with someone you trust, with someone you truly love, deeply and passionately, is another story. Being as close and as vulnerable as possible to another person, giving them all of you, and they trust you enough to give themselves in return; it's something he's always desired to experience at least once in his life before he dies.

Yeah, maybe he shouldn't be doing this. He shouldn't have let it get this far from the start. But after a lifetime of never being selfish, never getting anything he wanted, right now, what he should or should not be doing doesn't matter. All that matters is you under him.

His hands settle on your hips, adjusting them until they're lined up with him, and then he leans down to murmur, "Are you ready?" And all that matters is the way you whisper back, "Yes, Aki, please, give it to me. I need you."

That's all it takes. That's all it takes before there's no going back, and Aki is fully drowning in this sensation of utter want and utter desperation. He's so easy to convince when it comes to you, always has been, and if you're telling him that you need him? Being needed by you is the best feeling in the world, and when you ask him like that, he couldn't deny you any longer even if he wanted to.

Aki presses inside you steadily, colliding his mouth with yours and stealing a quick kiss to silence his moans, his hair tickling your face as he does. You're still so wet, and he slides in easy, filling you up until his hips are flush with yours and your legs are wrapping around his back, crossed at the ankles. When he pulls away, he notices your arms splayed above your head. He grabs your hand, linking his fingers with yours, his grip tight, safe, and familiar. Warm, for the first time in a long time.

Aki doesn't move, not at first. He catches his breath, stares at you, at your face, admires everything he finds perfect about it. He can't stop himself from smiling now, and from the way you're smiling back, he's sure he must look like an idiot. So he lets his head fall, burying his face in the nape of your neck, softly mumbling, "God, you're so beautiful."

When he finally does start moving, every drag of his cock out is done at an exceptionally slow, meticulous pace, and once he presses back in, he puts his full weight behind the roll of his hips, shoving himself as deep inside as he can possibly get. His breath is hot and quivering when he moans into your skin.

"Oh my God," Aki whines, "You're so fucking good to me baby, feels so good… Can I go faster? Please?"

It wasn't much of a question, more like a heads-up, because before you're even telling him yes, Aki's moving faster. He bites at your neck as he becomes a bit rougher, a bit less contained, but steady; he's still holding back. He leaves impressions of his teeth and places wet, open-mouthed kisses all over your neck, sending a tingle up your spine. Finally, he gives you one last kiss before he draws himself away, his eyes immediately connecting with yours.

He's so damn pretty. Everything about him is pretty, from his staggered whimpers and moans in pleasure, to the lovely mark you've left on his neck, to his messy dark hair. It frames his face perfectly, and loose strands he has to keep pushing out of the way stick to his forehead from sweat. No-one gets to see him like this, with his hair down, since at work, he makes a habit of always keeping it up in his topknot. At work, he's a totally different person: the Division's strongest, coldest Devil Hunter. But here? He's just yours.

You're the only one. The only person who knows how pretty he is, and what he's really, truly like, under all that coldness. You know it's just a facade, and underneath everything, he's just someone who wants to be loved. All he desires is a little bit of intimacy, a little taste of something normal, just to feel something. Perhaps, you're the only one who understands, or perhaps, his warmth is something you draw out of him.

You bet you're definitely the only one who gets to see what his face looks like when he's all hot and bothered, though.

Aki's tempo is quickening more, the couch starting to creak under the pressure. He's breathing harder, and he chokes out as he fucks into you, through gasps of air, "I know you can be louder than that sweetheart… Don't hold back… Let me hear you."

If what he wants is to hear you, that's what he's going to get, and he's going to get all of it.

"Aki! Fuck!" You cry out, and you swear you hear him start to hold back his own whines so he can focus on yours. "It feels so good-"

"Yeah?" He teases, a little smirk present on his face. He still hasn't broken eye contact with you, fawning over you with blown pupils and a half-lidded gaze like he's so unbelievably head over heels. His voice is light, bordering on a whine when he speaks again, "Does my dick feel good?"

"Yes! It's s-so… fucking good." You're slurring, stumbling over your words, just focused on him, all of him.

"I bet it does baby, you're- fuck- taking it so well, you're so perfect."

Aki's grip remains tight on your hand as he drinks in every noise that comes out of your mouth. The sun is well past the point of dipping below the horizon, rays of light starting to fade away. The room is growing dark, growing dim, illuminated by only the faintest pink glow, but through it all, you can still see the outline of his face, his body. His defined nose, sharp jawline, dark hair, and broad shoulders. Earrings that shine when they catch the dying light at the perfect angle. If Aki had more patience, he'd get up and turn on a light, but he doesn't, so this will have to do.

The sound of skin slapping against skin echoes around the room. The way Aki makes love to you is tender, relaxed, languid, like he has all the time in the world and he's going to savor it. He hardly cares about chasing his own release, just about enjoying it and making you feel good, but multiple times, he finds himself having to deliberately slow down to keep from finishing too quickly.

He can feel his body tensing up, but each time he gets too close to the edge, he shoves himself all the way in and stays there, lets himself calm down. His cock is throbbing, and holy shit, he wants to cum so bad. So bad that if he moves even the slightest inch right now, he's not going to be able to hold back, but he has to. He has to when you get impatient, rut your hips against his, and plead, Aki, move. Please.

He wants this moment to last, so he's going to hold on for as long as he possibly can, staving off his orgasm until he just can't take it anymore. He gives himself a couple more moments to come down from the euphoria before he's fucking you again, giving you everything you want.

And he's so damn vocal, so much more than you expected he would be. He doesn't attempt to hide how good he's feeling at all, moaning at every thrust, at every clamp of your pussy around him. He teases you, praises you, like he can't hold back from saying any and every thought that happens to enter his brain.

You want me to fuck you deeper? Harder?

Tell me. Whatever you want, I'll give it to you.

Are you comfortable, baby? Does it hurt?

Ah, fuck, I'm so close already, I don't wanna cum until you do, baby.

Aki holds himself off, for longer, for further than he even thought possible. Even when he wants to cum so bad he's fucking delirious, he holds it, focusing on giving it to you just how you want, just how you beg him to. You're begging for him to go faster, Fuck me harder, I can take it. Fuck me like you really mean it. And you and him both know, whatever you ask him to do, he's going to do it. His side is starting to hurt, a little dull throb, but he ignores the pain when it's overwhelmed by waves of pleasure.

The sounds coming from the both of you are so obscene, so loud they can probably be heard a few apartments over. Aki is still holding your hand, never let go, and his grip is clammy and sweaty, but he still holds onto it tight. He can feel you beginning to tense around him, and when he does, he doesn't relent. He keeps up the same deliberate pace, just how you like it, hitting the perfect spot inside you every single time. The way your pussy squeezes around him is making his head spin, and when he once again finds himself right on the precipice, he knows it's over, he can't hold back anymore.

He can't stop, there's no way in hell he can. Not with your moans and screams and chants of his name in his ear. Not when your cunt is throbbing around his dick, so hungry for his cum, so demanding of all of him. He rolls his hips and fucks you deeply, hand reaching down and fumbling to find your clit, and when he does, he rubs clumsy, rough circles that quickly build up a tight coil of pleasure right in your core. His head dips and he presses even closer to your body. Your hand snakes into his hair, fingers threading through close to his scalp where you grab and yank back hard, drawing a needy whine from his lips.

"F-Fuck, I'm gonna cum, please," Aki begs, voice high-pitched and desperate, helpless, "Please let me cum inside you, please, I need it so bad, I can't- I-"

He can hardly speak, and each thrust of his hips is sloppy and inconsistent. Between his dick fucking butterflies into your stomach and his fingers messily working your sensitive clit, the stimulation is growing too much to handle, and you can't deny him. You can't when he begs so sweetly like that, when he sounds like he needs it so goddamn bad. Before you know it, you're gripping his hair tighter and commanding, Cum for me, Aki, fill me up with all of it.

"Yeah? You want all of it? Then- Fuck!" He cuts himself off, ramming into you one more time before his hips are shaking, his whole body's shaking, actually, and he's stammering, "I'm cumming I'm cumming I'm cumming, oh my God, I love you, I love you…"

Aki's holding onto your hand so hard his grip might break it, and his voice in your ear is enough to throw you over the edge. You cry out, cunt pulsing hard around him. The steady throb around his dick feels like it's milking him, pleading for every last drop he's willing to give, everything he has left. And he's going to give it to you, pump you full of it and not even let a single drop go to waste. It's what you want, after all.

Everything, it's so overwhelming, it's too much, it's nothing like Aki has ever experienced in his life. He's shaking so hard and he can't stop it, and his vision has gone so blurry he can't see a thing, all he can see is black. He's gasping, whining, and he can hardly breathe, just feebly choking on air as he fills you with so much of him. When he's finally done, the feeling that overtakes him is utterly euphoric.

It's like he's floating. His body goes limp, and his heart is pounding, but he's calm. Incredibly calm, like finally letting go, vulnerable, allowing the waters to take you wherever they so choose. He's tired, so tired, but not a heavy, exhausted kind of tired. The sleepy kind of tired that holds you tight and weighs you down, that promises to take care of you and if anything, never let you go. It envelops him until he's slipping away, and it's kind of like, kind of like…

It's kind of like dying, isn't it?

To die by your hands is a pretty good way to die.

Aki's body pins you to the couch as you both come down from your high. The both of you are covered in sweat and smell undeniably like sex. He's so close, so warm, to the point where you start to feel hot, but his weight pressed on top of you feels nice. It's comforting, feels safe and puts your mind at ease.

For a while, the two of you lay there, relaxing and letting yourselves sober up. His heartbeat is slow; you can feel it through his chest pressed up against yours, and eventually, the rhythm of your heart begins to match his. He's still inside, still holding your hand, but through a much looser grip. His head is nestled in the space next to yours and you can feel his steady breaths fan out on your neck, tickling the shell of your ear.

He's quiet, really quiet. His breathing is so deep… Is he falling asleep?

"Aki?"

No response. None.

"Aki. Hey." You squeeze his hand and shift a little bit under him, wiggling like you're attempting to push him off of you, although there's clearly no real effort put behind it.

Nope, nothing. He doesn't move an inch. He's got to be out cold.

"Come on," You drag your hand away from his to shake him a little by his shoulders, and it seems like your grip disappearing was enough to wake him up a little. He shifts, just the tiniest amount, and you continue, "Aki, I know you can hear me."

He doesn't move, again. Just grumbles in your ear.

You sigh in defeat. Fine, he can lay on you for a little bit longer. His injury might be hurting him. He did work himself really hard, after all. If he's exhausted, he can rest, he deserves to get some. You run your fingers through his hair, stroking the back of his head, listening to the constant inhale and exhale of his breath.

The moment is oddly peaceful, considering what just transpired. The room is covered in a thick darkness now. It's deathly still and incredibly silent, save for the distant whistle of a train passing by somewhere in the city, but it feels like you and him are the only ones to exist in this world.

Aki is just barely awake, teetering on the edge of falling asleep for real. His weight on top of you and the rhythm of his breathing might be enough to lull you to sleep as well, that is, until he starts mumbling in your ear.

"Love you. So much." His voice is groggy and tired, to the point where it's difficult to tell what he's even saying. You can make it out close enough, thankfully.

"I love you too."

"Thank you."

You laugh half-heartedly, "What are you thanking me for?"

"Everything." He replies simply, and finally, he decides he's ready to get up, pushing himself off of you with a large exhale of breath, his muscles feeling weary and spent.

He meets your gaze and asks, "Are you okay?"

"Yeah, I'm okay." You nod.

Aki's eyes briefly rake up and down your body before he slowly pulls out, flopping back hard against the couch with an annoyed groan.

"My side fucking hurts."

"I wonder why," You push yourself up on your elbows, staring at him with a knowing look, "I told you not to push yourself too far."

"You were the one babbling about, 'Go faster' this and, 'Go harder' that. I think it's your fault."

"No way… Aki."

"Yeah?"

"You got any smokes?"

Aki laughed. A real, genuine laugh. Now there's something he never does.

"Let's get dressed. Then, I'll give you one."

Aki turns on a light resting on top of a table beside the couch. He outright refuses to allow you to put on your dirty clothes, stopping you when you went to reach for them on the floor. From his room, he brings you some of his clothes, and some for himself as well. He takes care of you first, kissing your forehead as he pulls a shirt over you, gently lifting you by your hips to pull on a pair of his boxers and pajama pants. His clothes fit baggy on you and they're covered in the smell of him.

He dresses himself next, hastily, before rummaging around his apartment to find where he left his box of cigarettes. Actually, they're your box of cigarettes that you leant him at the hospital. He hasn't had the opportunity to go out and buy some more because he's been resting at home, so he's been trying extra hard to make this box last.

How many were left again? There's probably a couple. He opens the box to check and…

One. Just one. Did he really smoke that many? They go by so fast.

"There's just one in here," He muses, walking over to where you're laid back on the couch and showing you the near-empty box.

"I guess we're sharing again." You reply with a smile.

"Guess so."

It's not long before you accompany Aki to the balcony. The night air is cold, and there's the slightest hint of a chilly breeze passing through. Aki holds the cigarette between his teeth and shields the lighter from the wind with his palm, striking it once, twice, three times before it comes to life in a flurry of sparks. You stand close, holding his arm, leaning on him.

Aki can't help but feel… strangely euphoric. Now that he's coming to his senses, thinking more clearly about everything, he knows he probably, definitely shouldn't have done this. He's letting himself grow closer to you. What's going to happen when you die? When he dies? When one of you is killed in the line of work, it's not going to be fair to the other. It's not fair to fall in love with someone when you always tow the line between living and dying.

It's not fair. It's not fair, the world isn't fair. In another life, maybe Aki would have a better chance with you. Maybe you two could be a regular couple, be normal for a change. But he can't change the past, can he? All that waits for him is the future.

He's made his choice. He made his choice to be selfish, and now he's got to live with it, but fuck if he isn't going to enjoy it for as long as he possibly can. A man like him doesn't kick the bucket so easily. He's through with complicating things, done hiding anything. He's going to live for as long as possible, and it's going to be with you, whether the damn universe likes it or not.

And if you die, it's going to kill him. It's going to be the death of him, and he knows it.

But the world is better with a little self-indulgence, even if it kills you, right?

"Will you stay the night tonight?" Aki asks, ending the silence, taking a long drag out of the cigarette before exhaling and watching the smoke rise into the starry night sky. The nicotine immediately soothes his lungs and aching body, and with you pressed close to him, all he can feel is total relaxation through his veins.

"Yeah, I can."

"Good. Because I don't want you to leave."

"I won't leave any time soon, then."

A little smirk forms on Aki's lips, and as he goes to take another hit of the cigarette, you push against him, pouting. "You were supposed to share."

"I will. Hang on a sec."

Aki takes another long hit, breathing in the smoke, holding it in his lungs. He turns to you then, and he grabs your chin firm, tilting it up to where he leans over you. In an instant, his lips press against yours in an open-mouthed kiss and your eyes flutter shut in response.

Aki blows the cigarette smoke into your mouth slow and steady, and when he pulls away, it's only slightly, only enough to let stray wisps rise in the space between the two of your mouths. He already breathed in all the nicotine, so there's none left for you, but the smoke still pricks at your throat, still gives you that familiar feeling. Maybe you should complain and ask him to give you a proper hit, but his kiss is just as addicting as any cigarette, so honestly, you don't really care.

"How was that?" Aki asks quietly, pulling away to give you a chance to exhale.

"Another?"

Aki smiles, "Of course."

He's so easy to convince when it comes to you.

—

Aki falls asleep by your side.

He drifts off with his large frame pressed against your back, his dark hair fanned out over the pillow. His whole bed smells like him, and his blanket and sheets are soft. As his arm is splayed over your body, his hand is connected to yours, holding gently where it lays delicately in front of your face. You can feel his heartbeat against your back, his gentle embrace clutching you closer to his body, the warmth radiating off of him, his breath hot against your neck.

For the first time in a long, long time, Aki doesn't dream of that stupid house, or of people dying right before his eyes. He dreams of something much more serene. His own slice of heaven, in this wretched hell.

He dreams of a future with you.

And even though he knows in the back of his mind that it's going to end tragically, he doesn't care. Even though he's aware he's going to die, and just how soon he's going to die, too, he ignores it. Forgets about it.

It's selfish. So, so selfish of him. But he's stopped looking at himself objectively. He'll only look to the future, with no turning back, and it doesn't matter how unattainable that future might be.

He's going to love you until the end.

And besides, there's no one else who's arms he'd rather die in than yours.

#aki hayakawa x reader #aki hayakawa smut #aki hayakawa #chainsaw man x reader #chainsaw man smut #aki x reader

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transmutationisms · 1 month

Note

your asks about mental illness/psych and the separation of illness and the person affected kind of reminded me of foucault’s birth of the clinic, so if. u have any thoughts on that work id love to hear them! (sincerely, a philosophy student that enjoys reading ur blog posts)

yeah for as much beef as i have with foucault there are reasons why his fingerprints are still all over history of medicine and science. i think the problems with birth of the clinic are largely the same as the general problems with his historical analyses, namely that he used really limited evidence, mostly british and french written work from physicians and government officials; he was writing very specifically about the 19th century french case, which is fine except he didn't always seem fully aware of the consequences of working in a specific local case; he sometimes did a poor job of differentiating between the discursive and the political, and presumed the former led 1:1 to the latter; &c. i have written some more on him in my tagged/foucault, i think mostly in regards to the lectures on biopolitics. with birth of the clinic the other really egregious issue imo is, again because of a lack of proper historical context and analysis, he often presents the teaching hospital and its medical epistemology as specifically parisian in a way they simply were not.

however the broad thesis of this text, the idea that the medical practices and epistemic assertions characteristic of the 19th-century teaching hospital were not self-evident or representative of intellectual progress as such, and that they were instead contingent and enforced and contested ideas that ultimately served both physicians as a professional class and state-building endeavours—this is a useful framework and continues to generate or at least encourage a lot of insightful work. i tend to think of madness and civ, birth of the clinic, and the order of things as belonging to their own kind of cycle for this reason and for the most part when i criticise them, my problems are usually more about foucault's failure to execute his own historical methods than his description or justification of such methods. altho where the biopolitical aspects are more explicitly concerned i also think there's a lot to be said about his general avoidance of class analysis in favour of a pretty liberal conception of individuality and individual freedom.

#foucault

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humanitys-strongest-bamf · 9 months

Text

"get me a damned matcha" | Chapter 5: October I

{{ Chapter 4: September | Chapter 6: November I }} Chapter Directory

levi's stupidly observant for someone who pretends to be aloof all the time, js

if you're interested in getting tagged for updates, fill out this form here!

✧ pairing ➼ levi ackerman x fem!reader, college x coffee shop x roommates!au ✧ summary ➼ After you find yourself plagued with misfortune due to struggles in your personal and family life, you find yourself needing to move last minute. As a junior in undergrad with little money and little social support, you considered yourself lucky when you found a sublease that was close to campus and was relatively cheap. Unfortunately, it seemed that your roommate did not seem to be so excited regarding your presence. ✧ content/warnings ➼ fluff, slowburn, enemies to lovers (sorta), strangers to lovers, fem!reader, descriptions of reader being superficial (ITS PART OF THE BACKSTORY ILL EXPLAIN LATER ITS FINE), jean and eren being comedically competitive, the ex-boyfriend that was supposed to be porco that i renamed to zack, floche being gross, explicit descriptions of grief, substances/alcohol, college-typical parties ✧ word count ➼ ~4.8k

"Did you have to plan this on the day of the Rumbling?"

You shot an intentionally offensive side-eye towards Oluo. The two of you, plus the rest of the officers for your Honors Society, currently found yourselves at an arcade that was about a 10-15 minute walk from campus. It was the weekend after midterms, so you figured that it was the perfect time to host your first official social event.

However, your generally clueless vice president and social committee chair decided to conveniently book the event on the one night in which another major event that you were all planning on attending was occurring. You had initially said you would handle the booking and were pleasantly surprised when Oluo had offered to do it instead, only to be horrifically disappointed once you found out the date he chose.

This was why you never bothered asking the other officers to do anything—it always ended up like this. It was chaotic, disorganized, inconvenient, or all of the above.

The Rumbling was a rave at a nearby club on the outskirts of campus. They hosted a Halloween party every year, but had an age restriction of being 21-years old due to the open bar, which meant that this was the first year that you could attend without doing something shady to get a fake ID of some sort.

Literally all of the other officers were planning on going together, so you were more than pissed that Oluo had planned your social on this day. Not only did it disrupt your plans, but it also might give the freshmen a bad first impression. It wasn't much of a social support community if you were cutting them short and leaving them on their own at their very first formal event.

"I forgot!" Oluo exclaimed in defense, which earned an eye roll from you.

You looked over towards the entrance as you heard the door open and saw a few other students walk in. They weren't at your general meeting last month, so you didn't recognize them, except for one.

You smiled and waved at Marlo. You had never talked to him, but you've seen him behind the counter at the café before.

"Oh hey!" you said with a smile as Marlo walked up to you. "You're the freshman that works at Levi's café, right?"

"Sophomore," Marlo said awkwardly as he shuffled. "Just started, but yeah!"

After chatting a bit, it turns out that you and Marlo were both in an individualized track related to writing, although you were focused more on creative writing whereas he was focused more on grant-writing for criminal justice organizations. It was the same program, but completely different tracks.

Everyone had formed into their own little circles. Most had gathered around the dining table to chat while devouring the pizza you had ordered.

You looked up as you noticed a particularly rowdy group on the other side of the arcade.

It seemed that Eren and Jean were bickering with each other in front of a Dance Dance Revolution game, nearly having a yelling match over who was better at the game, while Mikasa was playing, clearly outscoring the both of them combined.

You were nervously checking the time periodically, wanting to end the event as late as possible without having to rush to get to the Rumbling later. After about an hour and a half, you began wrapping up, motioning for everyone to clean up before heading back to campus as a group.

Although the event had ended early, you were able to tell that the freshmen had a good time with how chatty they were on the way back to campus.

While that was good news, you still found yourself being restless, walking at a slightly faster pace than everyone and forcing yourself to slow down and wait occasionally. You were more than overstimulated by the time you finally dropped everyone off at the main hub on campus for them to each head to their individual dorms.

You watched them intensely as they all went into the building. By the time the door had shut, you were long gone, leaving the other officers confused.

They were supposed to accompany you to the party, but you found yourself much more stressed than they were, which resulted in you making a beeline for your apartment.

By the time you had arrived, you were out of breath and running purely on adrenaline. You entered through the front door and immediately ran for your room, without even taking a moment to notice if your aloof roommate was at home.

You frantically opened the door to your closet, your eyes scanning through all of your clothes.

It was silly, but the reason you were so stressed was because you weren't sure of what to wear to the Rumbling. It was a high-key Halloween party, so you felt obligated to wear a costume. There was nothing about a dress code and a good amount of people went in casual clothes, but you still felt the need to wear something that was obviously a Halloween costume.

Your eyes immediately fell onto a party dress that you had bought a few weeks ago that you had planned to be your default get-up whenever you went out. However, it'd be boring to wear such a plain thing to a Halloween party—and you definitely didn't want to seem boring.

After a few minutes of digging through your closet, you tensed as your eyes fell on a maid costume you had bought as a joke freshman year. You never intended to wear it as an actual costume—even now, a part of you resisted against it, wondering if you could find something else to wear.

You tapped your finger on the closet door, desperately trying to think of anything else to wear.

After a few minutes, you realized that you couldn't afford the time needed to labor over this decision. You immediately grabbed the maid outfit, groaning in exasperation.

~~~~~

The club was more than filled by the time that you arrived. Both you and Petra stepped inside after showing the bouncer your ID's. The music was stupidly loud, there was a DJ cheering everyone on at the very back, and fake smoke littered the air. A mix of students and locals were dancing on the dance floor, with some choosing to hang out around the local bar.

This wasn't your first party. You've definitely drank and partied before, but being 21 meant that you could officially drink now. It had a different feel to it. Some of the thrill that you used to get from illegally drinking had faded, but you felt that you were now able to enjoy it properly.

A few minutes passed before you noticed Oluo and Gunther also step in, with a tall gentlemen quickly following. You had never met him, but Gunther mentioned that he was friends with Eld and that he was bringing him along to catch up.

"You got changed fast!" Oluo said immediately, eyeing your maid costume.

You immediately punched his shoulder, feeling more than a little embarrassed that his first comment to you was related to your last-minute costume that you were already reluctant to wear.

"You think we'll see anyone we know?" Petra asked as she looked around.

"Probably," you said, walking past Oluo who was now rubbing his shoulder in pain. "It's a pretty big party."

The first half of the night was a blur for you. You remembered doing some shots while getting to know Eld, never mingling too far into the dance floor. The mosh pit-style get-up was just never your thing.

You were feeling a gentle buzz at this point and the sensation allowed you to let loose for a little while and forget all the bullshit you had to otherwise deal with.

However, that didn't last very long.

You felt your entire body freeze up with anxiety as your eyes fell onto your ex-boyfriend's figure on the dance floor.

Your relationship with Zack was not the best one. It wasn't anywhere near healthy, and the last time you saw him, you were having a yelling match and he kicked you out, which was what prompted your whole housing situation.

You saw him begin to turn in your direction and you immediately hid behind Eld's tall figure, thankful that you had noticed in time so that he didn't see you.

"What's up with you?" Eld asked, noticing your sudden change in behavior.

"N-Nothing!" you replied nervously, forcing a smile. "I'm going to grab a drink!"

You kept your head low as you quickly headed towards the bar, which was on the opposite side of the venue, immediately finding the most tucked-in corner seat that you could find and plopping down onto the barstool while burying your face in your hands.

After you took a few minutes to catch your breath, you gestured over to the bartender for a shot. Suddenly seeing Zack had sobered you up more than you would have liked it to and you definitely needed the numbing effect of more alcohol to forget his presence, although your night was already somewhat ruined.

Just what I needed. On the one night I decide to let myself let loose after the shitshow that was the first half of the semester and he's here.

You frowned as you glanced back towards the dance floor.

He can come out to a rave in the middle of the night, yet he couldn't find the time to drop off my shit?

You weren't surprised, but it still pissed you off.

Your view of the dance floor was immediately obscured as someone decided to sit next to you—a bit too close for comfort.

He was a scrawny dude roughly your age, with a cocky face and a questionable haircut that somewhat looked like a bird's nest. You couldn't tell if the haircut was purposeful or not. It looked ridiculous either way.

You've seen him around campus. He was a sophomore majoring in business, so you never had the chance—or desire—to interact with him.

"Name's Floche," he said with a tone of confidence that didn't really match his appearance. "Can I buy you a drink?"

You scoffed at him.

"Are you even old enough to be drinking?"

"I can be," he said with a shrug.

You grimaced for a split second at his answer, although it was barely noticeable—and especially not noticeable to someone like Floche. You quickly changed your expression to one of a forced smile.

"I'm okay, thanks! Already took a bunch of shots."

"Oh c'mon, let me treat you!" he responded, scooting a bit closer. "You're too pretty to be here alone, so let me keep you company."

Part of you had hoped when he sat down that he was just being friendly, but now you could no longer deny that he was being aggressively flirtatious. Normally, you wouldn't mind the random comments you'd get at parties. They were usually non-consequential, other than making you uncomfortable in the moment.

However, with your elevated anxiety due to suddenly seeing Zack, you really didn't have the emotional capacity to handle something like this at the moment. Any intention of humoring Floche with his cheesy and flirtatious commentary was nowhere to be found.

"Who said I'm alone?"

He needed to go away.

Instead, he scooted even closer to the point that you were starting to feel cramped as you scooted back towards the wall, cursing at yourself for choosing to sit in the corner.

"Well, you're over here on your own, without looking around for anyone you know."

He was getting way too close.

"Just let me buy you a drink! I promise you won't regret it."

"Mmm, I said no thanks," you responded sternly.

Floche responded by gesturing to the bartender.

You were not in the mood for this. You were beginning to get more than pissed, to the point that your people-pleaser façade began rapidly diminishing. You couldn't get yourself to continue masking.

You scowled at him.

"Dude, are you allergic to the word 'no'?"

"Don't worry," he said with a smirk. "I like it when you play hard-to-get!"

That did it. In that exact moment, you no longer gave a single shit about what others thought of you.

"What the fuck, I'm not-"

"Oi, fuck off, you lanky parasite."

You heard a familiar voice that brought you a heavy sense of relief—in contrast to how irritated it usually made you feel.

Floche looked over and made eye contact with Levi. He was about half a foot taller than your roommate, but Levi was much more intimidating than he was.

"What, are you her boyfriend or something?"

"Fuck no," you both responded at once.

You felt the corner of your lips tugging up subtly into a smirk in response to your simultaneous answer. At least you were on the same wavelength with Levi on something—a feat you never thought you'd achieve.

"See? I wasn't here alone?" you motioned towards Levi, hoping that this would be enough to get Floche to go away.

"So fuck off," Levi scolded, not giving Floche to make the decision himself. "Don't make me say it again."

After Floche finally left, Levi sat on the stool next to you. You glanced at him and noticed he wasn't in a costume of any sort, simply wearing a t-shirt and jeans. He couldn't possibly look any more plain.

"Fucking undergrads," he grumbled.

"What's with you and hating undergrads?"

You'd lost count of how many antagonistic comments he had made towards undergraduate students at this point.

"It seems I can't get rid of you even when I'm not at the café or apartment," he said, dodging the question. "How annoying."

You pursed your lips, giving him an unamused expression.

"You're the one that chose to sit next to me. You could be anywhere in this giant ass theater."

"That douche was harassing you," he said in a matter-of-fact tone, as if he was astonished that you were even questioning him. "And there's too many fucking people in here."

He paused, his gaze moving from your eyes down to the rest of your body, finally noticing your outfit.

"Kinda ironic that you're in a maid costume when you're shit at cleaning at home."

You groaned and rolled your eyes. While you were embarrassed when Oluo commented on it, you felt your head ache in response to Levi's comment.

"I'm going to need at least three more shots if I'm going to be forced to talk to you," you grumbled as you gestured the bartender over.

You immediately downed the shot when you received it, grimacing a bit at the feeling of the alcohol traveling down your throat.

Your eyes went back into the crowd, scanning the crowded theater nervously. You were well hidden, but the fact that Zack was here still threw you off. This did not go unnoticed.

"What the hell are you doing here if you're truly not alone?" Levi asked, raising an eyebrow at you. "Doesn't seem like you to just be drinking in the corner."

"Don't act like you know shit about me or why I'm here," you immediately responded, barely giving him a chance to finish his sentence.

You realized that you responded much more defensively and sternly than you had intended. His question had struck a nerve and your anxiety plus the alcohol made it harder to regulate around him.

You took another shot as he looked at you in his usual unamused fashion, but didn't inquire further.

"What are you doing here?" you asked, deflecting from his question. "This is the last place I thought I'd see you at."

"'Don't act like you know shit about me'," he muttered, repeating your phrase word-for-word, earning a scowl and a groan of frustration from you.

You told yourself it was the lighting or the alcohol playing tricks on you, but swore you saw an ever-so-subtle smirk appear on his face that was gone within the second.

Levi glanced into the crowd and motioned over towards the opposite corner of the bar. You looked over and saw two people conversing. You vaguely recognized Hange, who was rapidly chatting away with a tall blonde gentleman that you had never seen before.

"Friend's in town," Levi mentioned. "He's actually the roommate you replaced."

You glanced at Miche again. Although the two of you were in contact to get the sublease set up, you had never physically seen him before.

"I'm kinda pissed at him for moving out because now I have you to deal with," Levi grumbled.

You stuck your tongue out at Levi, which earned you a grimace in response from Levi.

His eyebrows immediately scrunched together as he saw your eyes slightly widen before your entire body tensed up again.

Your eyes followed Zack's figure as he walked by again. Once you were able to confirm that he hadn't noticed your presence, you finally let out a breath that you weren't aware you were holding in.

Your anxiety was acting up again and you felt like you couldn't stand being in that theater any longer. It was as if you were suffocating on the spot.

"I'm getting out of here," you mumbled as you took the third shot, immediately getting up.

"On your own?" Levi asked, turning in your direction as you began to walk off. "You're not seriously thinking of driving, are you?"

You stopped in your tracks and scoffed at him.

"Of course not. I'm walking, dumbass."

"It's a 45-minute walk at least, dumbass."

"Well, I have plenty of time," you retorted as you began to walk away again.

"Tch. I'll just drive you, you stubborn brat," Levi said in exasperation as he dug his keys out of his pocket.

He glanced up as you gave him a skeptical look, questioning his ability to drive.

"I'm sober contact anyway. Just let me grab Hange and Miche."

He got up and walked past you to summon the two of them over, indicating that he was leaving.

"Any excuse to leave this place."

~~~~~

You felt like you could finally breathe again once you got home. Not only were you able to dull down the anxiety that had been itching at you ever since you saw Zack at the party, but you were also able to finally take off that incredibly uncomfortable maid costume, regretting ever putting it on in the first place. You immediately changed into sweatpants and a loose t-shirt, which was the complete opposite of the costume you had been wearing earlier in the night.

By the time you came out of your room, Levi noticed that you had looked much more relaxed than usual. It was that stark contrast that he noticed every day. The person he knew at home versus the person you presented yourself as in public were two very different people.

Despite both Hange and Miche hanging out at the apartment, you were more than fine being in your casual home clothes. It was likely due to the alcohol and heightened anxiety from the party making you exhausted enough to just not be bothered to give a shit once you actually got home.

You typed a quick text message to Petra letting her know that you got home safe before tossing your phone onto the couch and sitting down on the floor on the opposite side of the coffee table in your living room. You didn't want to think about that party for the rest of the night.

The company helped keep you distracted. Miche sat on the couch while you, Levi, and Hange surrounded the coffee table. You were sipping on a beer as you chatted with Miche about having Levi as a roommate.

"Was he as annoying when he was living with you?"

A smug grin appeared on your face as you noticed Levi scowling at you.

"He had his quirks for sure," Miche responded with a shrug.

"So he's just a dick. Got it."

Levi's scowl grew more intense as he glared daggers into your skull.

"A dick that cares," Hange chimed in.

The scowl on Levi's face turned into an unamused frown as he looked over at Hange, wondering exactly what was going on through their head at all hours of the day to prompt them to say such things.

"Ha," you forced a dry chuckle as you sipped on your beer some more. "What an oxymoron."

The four of you spent the next 45 minutes or so just chatting. Miche and Levi were catching up. Hange was asking you about your studies. Hange and Miche bonded over what it felt like to be free from the constraints of University.

You and Levi avoided talking directly to each other, but this wasn't new—and from the lack of surprised looks from Miche or Hange, this wasn't news to them either. He had talked to them about you.

All horrible things, I bet.

A frown appeared on your face as you began to ruminate over what it was that Levi could have been saying about you behind your back. You couldn't stand him and couldn't really care less what he thought of you, but the possibility of him spouting that nonsense to others made your stomach churn.

"So what made you need the sudden move?" Miche asked, pulling you out of your head. "I had basically given up on finding a sublease when you showed up."

You looked up towards the ceiling, trying to figure out the best way to describe your situation in a way that wouldn't upset you or require further explanation that you weren't prepared to give.

"...Shitty ex kicked me out."

The look on Levi's face went from an intense scowl to a subtle frown as you spoke. He was more than prepared to spit out a snarky response at whatever excuse you came up with to justify upending his life, but he found himself staying quiet once you started talking. He hadn't bothered to ask (or care) about your housing situation prior to living with him, so he didn't know any of this either.

"Didn't really have anywhere to go."

As long as you left it at that, you could continue this conversation without getting too upset and be able to ride out the rest of the night.

"No family?" Hange asked.

It was an innocent and normal question. Most people would first go to their parents—or whoever took care of them growing up—for refuge in those situations, and especially for undergraduate students, who could just wait until August for leases to start renewing.

You fell silent. An unreadable expression appeared on your face and in your eyes as you lowered your gaze to the ground. You were emotionally exhausted and still buzzed from the alcohol. Masking was out of the question.

"Sorry," Hange spoke after a few seconds, knowing that they had brought up a sore topic.

The atmosphere was thick with tension and you felt yourself grow increasingly tense. You felt like everyone's eyes were on you, even if they physically weren't.

Family—who would you consider family? There wasn't anyone real that came to mind, other than your aunt, who was likely the least supportive person on the planet.

"Shitty aunt that was out of the country. That's about it," you said shortly, clearly indicating that you didn't want to continue the topic.

It was already too late. The conversation had already brought up all the grief you had buried deep within you. You felt like saying a single word more about it would make your whole personality come crumbling down into a sobbing mess.

"I'm getting another drink," you mumbled.

You were too enclosed within your own mind to notice, but Levi's gaze had been focused on you ever since he saw your reaction to Hange's question. He saw the way that you tensed and emotionally withdrew. He could tell that it was a painful topic to talk about—and likely, fresh. Your pain was either fresh or repressed to the point of agony.

He wasn't a stranger to that pain.

He subtly watched you as you stood up and made your way into the kitchen to pour yourself another drink, your expression remaining stagnant—but Levi could tell by the way you moved or even the slight way that you scrunched your eyes that you were deeply disturbed by the conversation.

For the first time since he first set eyes on you, he saw you as someone other than just a spoiled brat.

Maybe he was wrong about you.

~~~~~

Your head was pounding. You couldn't tell if it's from the hangover or the lack of sleep—and you couldn't tell if the lack of sleep was from the alcohol, the mention of your parents, or both. You had been chugging water ever since you woke up, but it was doing little to help.

You squinted and groaned in pain as you arrived at your obnoxiously bright classroom. Holding your hand up to your forehead to shield your eyes from the assault of the bright lights, you slowly made your way over to the table that Oluo and Petra sat at, immediately burying your face into your arms once you finally got to sit down.

"Rough night?" Petra asked.

"You could say that," you responded quietly, your voice muffled as you continued to hide between your arms.

Just being upset was one thing. Just being drunk was one thing—you never could sleep well after drinking, anyway—but Hange's question brought up bad memories. Those memories frequently translated into nightmares. You couldn't sleep no matter how hard you tried.

You couldn't get your parents' death out of your head.

Ever since their passing, it was literally just you and your aunt. She became your main source of support, but you couldn't realistically count it as support. Although you were hesitant to admit it, you knew that she was a pretty shitty person, and generally drained you more than she was able to help you.

You were well aware of your people-pleasing tendency, or your inability to really stand up for yourself or voice your opinions in certain situations, and you knew where that came from. Your aunt constantly made comments along the lines of having to "save face" in front of others, and that social relations made or break whether someone could be successful in their lives and that you should prioritize getting along with others, even if it was at the expense of your own autonomy.

You knew it was bullshit deep down. You knew she was projecting her inability to hold anyone in her life onto you, but she had made those comments ever since you were young. Your parents did try to passively shield you from it, but then the comments came in full force once your parents passed, leaving you completely vulnerable to those thought processes. It was going to take a lot of time and effort to break that chain of thinking, but that involved energy that you just didn't have right now.

Your breakup with Zack plus Hange's question from the night before were rude reminders that you really didn't have anyone else. You didn't have anyone that you could really call your family.

"Magath is out today, isn't he?" Oluo mused out loud.

"Partied too hard?" you joked dryly, trying to distract yourself.

You turned towards the classroom door when you heard footsteps approaching. The door opened and a tall blonde man with a beard and round glasses walked in. You remembered him as the neighbor that helped direct you to Levi's café on your first day at the apartment. Apparently, he was the substitute TA for the lecture today.

His voice, and therefore his lecture, was difficult to focus on, although you couldn't tell if it was because you weren't used to him or if it was due to the hangover. You felt yourself nodding off throughout the lecture, which you didn't fight, although your dozing never lasted for long.

It was either fall asleep in class and miss the content from a substitute TA or force yourself to stay awake and deal with the chaotic thoughts mixed with grief, anxiety, and anger that were running through your mind—and miss the course content anyway because you wouldn't be able to focus.

You were quickly regretting even coming to class, but staying at home wouldn't have been much better. You'd be trapped with your thoughts regardless—your thoughts of losing your parents and being left to navigate a harsh world all on your own, without a single stable source of support.

#: @levisbrat25 @gothgril69 @sckerman @berrijam @notgoodforlife @meowjaa @averysmolbear @roseofdarknessblog @bejewelledd @hhighkey @ayame236 @sad-darksoul @velouria17 @kamyru @l1zk4 @layenacreates @lamees004 @whoami-72 @highgoon69 @chaotic-on-main

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hurlumerlu · 3 months

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miw/neo/shin for the ship ask ?

Well obviously you can guess that I love them, I haven't been subtle about it (also thank you for diving in the tag and providing me with good gifsets u.u) I love them individually - though Miw's the best and the guys are both sometimes irritating in their own way, you can't change my mind - and I love them as a trio, but I also love how they (still as a trio) interract with other characters in universe and narratively, and I love every single side of their triangle, though again : Miw & Shin have such a fun and surprisingly meaty dynamic, it's definitely my favourite out of the three.

On that subject, it is really nice to see a polyamorous triad that isn't a perfect triangle but where the non-romantic side is given (roughly) as much weight as the romantic ones. Neo isn't here when Miw and Shin meet, and something sparks without him. There's this shift, in their first bedroom scene, where Miw is bringing forth this cute and nice persona but respond to Shin's attempt at sincerity by deciding that putting her more abrasive self forward is a risk worth taking, and it's pretty pivotal ? After that Shin trusts her even when it's... pretty obvious she's lying, and she reciprocate by simply wanting to spend time with him without expecting anything from him. Like, their friendship started before The Clusterfuck, it could have blossomed on it's own, and it is important from that point on (Shin #1 Miw defender).

That being said, I also enjoy having a f/m/m polycule where the woman isn't the arrow's head. I feel like the very few stories who depict this kind of situations tend to rely on the men being bro but desiring the same woman in a weird attempt to, idk, retain some heterosexuality ? Not that it works. But here it feels like they went out of their way to avoid that, and I am here for it. Everyone gets their turn in the middle, but Neo is the clear linchpin of the throuple. Remove him and they fall appart, because of their respective insecurities. "It's time for this movie to end", say Miw, because why would she saddle the rich boy with her trashy mess ? and Shin doesn't object because why would he bother this cool girl that his crush loves more than him ? The three of them are stupidly self-sacrificial in different ways. But yeah, it's Neo's belief that when it comes to love they are allowed to have it all that keeps them together and it's just sweet.

Speaking of insecurities, I appreciate that it does actually take more than them fucking once for their relationship to be all smooth sailing, and that most of their hangs-up are pretty realistic results of, uh, living in our world. Like, Miw & Neo's poverty and their complicated relationship re: sex-work that they keep throwing in each other's face (Neo straight up calling Miw a whore, Miw arguing that Neo's a bad romantic prospect because he's poor and vulgar and uneducated) ? And you cannot convince me that Shin's conviction that he's just not as important to them as they are to him is partly from experiencing homophobia and seeing himself as the gay option vs Miw/Neo as the normal path anyone would want to take. I mean obviously gangster dad is the biggest obstacle in their path but I like that they also face internal ones. I'm often frustrated by the way polyamory is sometimes presented as the solution to love triangles (especially in fandom spaces) because imo, the neat narrative thing an OT3 does isn't that it solves the problem, but that it creates different ones. The show does it beautifully.

On a more, idk, bird-eyed view perspective ? I greatly enjoy just watching them blaze accross Thailand ruining lives without meaning to. The Mae/Phon/Ter mirrorverse doomed trio, Neo's boss, that guy Oat, the hotel manager and her family, Neo's brother, Luang I guess, even arguably Vanika... never has a polycule been such an ill-omen. Incredible Natural Disaster Energy. Three will be free and yes that is a threat.

UGH there was something else I wanted to talk about but I forgot what it was, I didn't expect this to get this long and also I'm sick and my brain isn't working super well right now. Anyway : never forget Neo fucked the step-son right after the step-mom. Or that time when Miw flirted with Neo's brother, while Neo watched them with jealousy, while Shin watched HIM with jealousy. Terrible work, team, eat some pot-brownies and then hit the showers.

#congrats to PP for not only surviving the miw/neo/shin typhoon but getting a sugar daddy out of it #3 will be free

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xavieryaa · 4 months

Text

Making My Own Tumblr Year In Review

So tumblr is not doing the individual years in review for 2023 like they did the last couple of years :(

This is the first year I’ve really been active on Tumblr and used it as my primary social media, so I was really sad to hear that. But then I decided…why not do it myself?

I posted 1837 times in 2023. That’s 5 times per day.

1748 (95%) of my posts were reblogs, and 89 (5%) of my posts were original.

Blogs I think I reblogged the most? Not in order.

@yipeewahoo

@hoodie-sys

@94erz

@namchyoon

@heybaetae

These are just based on me cmd-f'ing my blog using the names of blogs I remember reblogging a lot. It's probably wrong.

My top 15 most used tags (not 5 because i love tagging and want to show more):

#bts - 1045 posts (yeah obviously)

#bts pics - 803 posts (yeah obviously x2)

#queue attack my heart - 691 posts

#memery - 312 posts

#namjoon - 308 posts (i am so mentally ill)

#hoseok - 167 posts

#jungkook - 166 posts

#seokjin - 138 posts

#jimin - 138 posts (i wrote down seokjin's tag first so i put it higher)

#yoongi - 119 posts

#fic & writing - 108 posts

#taehyung - 103 posts

#bts birthdays - 99 posts

#serious posts - 92 posts

#namjoonposting - 59 posts (my favorite tag)

By the way this was so fucking annoying to do. The archive does not show how many posts you have in a certain tag. For every month I counted the amount of rows in a tag, multiplied it by 8, and added in any rows that didn't quite get up to 8. Then I added all those months together. I had to do that for every tag. Tumblr why is there no easy way to see the number of posts in a tag.

My top 5 posts of 2023:

5. Luffy Tab - 20 notes

Still can't believe we just. got a luffy tab. i just woke up and had a luffy tab

4. BTS Post Search - 27 notes

As it turned out. the poster changed their name to something else so that's why i couldn't find the post from tumblr user soupmoths -- they were an entirely different person. oopsie

Also I ended up being able to reblog it! Someone tagged me!

3. 3D Rant - 32 notes

This post got me my first hate reblog <3

In case anyone is wondering. I still agree with everything I said here.

2. Porn - 99 notes

Not doing the big link preview for this one since that on its own is kinda nsfw. Minors don’t click that link.

But yeah. That makes sense.

Even though there’s only 5 reblogs people find it semi-frequently (especially the past few days, no idea why), so I guess it’s spreading somehow? Which makes me happy :)

The Reddit Post - 2.1k notes

Obviously that was going to be it lol, over 20 times the amount of notes than anything else. My notifications were Dying.

Also, this stuff wasn’t in the actual Year in Review(s), but I’m adding them in for fun.

I liked 21k posts in 2023.

I followed 426 blogs in 2023 (not including the accounts I unfollowed).

I gained 69 followers in 2023 (excluding porn bots and regular bots). Nice.

I started 4 blogs on this account, 1 main blog and 3 side blogs.

I gained 15 mutuals in 2023 <3

All this data was as of December 18th, 2023.

#xavi.txt #tumblr year in review #year in review #diy year in review #tumblr year in review 2023 #year in review 2023

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mercifullymad · 9 months

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Oh my good thank you for the post about ocd

Honestly I feel like it’s one of the diagnoses where all the discourse I see is incredibly medicalized and focused on acting as if ERP is literally the only way to treat it and anything else is A Lie and basically immoral to recommend to someone with ocd, lol

When, in my own experience, erp techniques have helped me break out of a few obsessive cicles, but other therapy approaches have helped me a lot more, honestly

Like. I would love to have a conversation about this, if you want to, because I have a lot to say on the subject, and would love to hear more about your perspective, lol. But yeah, the “fighter” approach is so tiresome. And I really hate that erp culture has people promoting attitudes like communally refusing to provide reassurance to someone with ocd because it’s agreed to be universally Bad For Us, without considering specific circumstances, harm reduction or personal authonomy, to give just one example.

Thank you; I��m glad you liked that post and could relate!

I differ a bit in that I don’t think OCD is not particularly unique in being medicalized; the discourse around nearly every mental illness diagnosis is these days. Nor do I think it’s particularly unique in framing recovering from OCD as a “fight,” either — as I mentioned in the tags of that post, the idea of “[X disorder] fighter” is also very popular in eating disorder circles.

What the framing around OCD does seem fairly unique in is the insistence that there is only one technique for effectively treating it: ERP. With other diagnoses, such as depression and eating disorders, it’s more accepted that a range of techniques, treatments, and/or approaches might help (talk therapy, medication, exercise, etc). But with OCD, any approach other than ERP is framed not only as ineffective, but actively harmful, and this is where we arrive at the conclusion you mentioned, that reassuring someone with OCD is harmful — or even immoral — and shouldn’t be done under any circumstances. Interestingly, this element of the “morality” around (not) reassuring people with OCD is somewhat less (or differently?) moralized than diagnoses where one specific type of medication is framed as The Only Right Treatment, since reassurance is interpersonal and relational.

To be transparent, I have not done a ton of structured ERP therapy — I've only done a couple months' worth, and it was over Zoom, so very different than doing it in person, at least if I wanted to "more effectively" address my obsessions and compulsions. I was also wary and critical of the ERP framework going in, which definitely contributed to my decision to end treatment "prematurely" (before being "cured," essentially). However, in my limited experience, I have had a similar experience as you around what ERP has and hasn’t helped. In some areas, repeatedly exposing myself to anxiety-inducing situations helped bring my anxiety down over time. In other cases, it did nothing but perpetually raise my anxiety for the length of the exposure treatment.

My real gripe with ERP is that it removes even the option of attaching meaning to your anxiety, thoughts, and/or experiences. I understand that framing your thoughts/compulsions as “invaders” to your brain or as “just OCD” as opposed to part of “you” can be relieving. It’s easy to see why, and I have also found this framing relieving at times and in certain situations. But in cases where exposure therapy hasn’t worked, I’ve found the most relief and freedom from exploring what meaning might be found in my experiences (and sometimes this relief and freedom comes from simply reframing/shifting/re-relating how I view and think about my experiences).

I very much agree with your last comments that believing it is Universally Bad to provide reassurance without considering harm reduction, personal autonomy, and individual circumstances is a harmful (and calloused and depersonalized!) approach. And I would love to hear what else you have to say on this topic!

#ocd

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dialovers-translations · 1 year

Text

Diabolik Lovers LOST EDEN ー Ruki Maniac [Epilogue]

CHAPTER MASTERLIST

ー The scene starts in an unknown manor

Ruki: ...Haah.

Yui: Everything alright?

Ruki: I’m fine...However, it can’t be denied that this place holds many bad memories for me. I can’t help but feel somewhat down.

Yui: You had...a good reason for coming here regardless, right?

Ruki: ...Yes.

This is hardly the time to ponder over bad memories from the past. I will go investigate, so you stay here.

I’ve made arrangements so we can stay here in comfort for a while. Will you be alright without me?

Yui: ( I guess he doesn’t want me to tag along... )

...Yeah, sure. I’ll wait here, okay?

Ruki: Sorry for leaving you behind. I’ll get going now.

ー Ruki walks away

Yui: ...Ruki-kun!

Ruki: What’s wrong?

Yui: I’ll be waiting so...Come back soon, okay?

Ruki: ...

ー He approaches her

Ruki: Don’t look so anxious. ...It’ll be okay. I promise I’ll be back.

Yui: Yeah...I’ll be waiting.

Ruki: I’ll try to come home as soon as I can. ...Nn.

*Smooch*

ー He leaves

Yui: ( ...My worries got the best of me and I stopped him from leaving. )

( I’m sure that this place brings back lots of complicated emotions for Ruki-kun...So I’m worried. )

ー The scene shifts to the city

Ruki: ( ...I should have expected as much, but things have changed overtime. )

( Yet, the memories of this place which have been engraved in my mind have not disappeared at all. )

( That being said, there was only so much information I could gain in the Demon World. )

( That is why it was necessary to come here. To this place...which lies the closest to the history of Trismégiste. )

( As uncomfortable as it makes me feel, I must go. ...I suppose the library would be my best bet if I want to search through documents. )

ー The scene shifts to the Romanian library

Ruki: ( There are quite a few books on the topic seeing as this is the country of its origin. I suppose I made the right choice by coming here. )

( ...I am sure there are things I would rather not know inside these books as well. )

( I have to make up my mind. For Eden and my brothers as well. ...I must not turn a blind eye to the truth. )

Monologue

In what followed, I began to collect a wide selection of books,

before starting to read through them one by one.

And by working my way through that enormous mountain of books,

there were a few things I learnt about.

For starters, there most definitely lived a man named Trimégiste,

in this country at some point.

This individual in question possessed mysterious powers,

as it was rumored he wandered from town to town,

to heal the sick and diseased.

This rumor eventually caught the attention,

of the President who had a daughter who suffered from a severe illness.

When Trismégiste managed to magically heal his daughter as well,

the President did not hesitate for a single second,

and put his full faith into Trismégiste.

That is how the two of them became friends.

However, it should go without saying,

that not everyone was so thrilled about this turn of events.

The noblemen and politicians, for example.

Ever since he managed to get on the President’s good side,

he would soon enough become the target,

of several people trying to bring him down or even assassinate him,

but none of those attempts were successful.

No matter how dire the situation may seem,

he would once again rise from the ashes like a Phoenix time after time.

A certain someone would describe his ability to always narrowly escape death,

far beyond the point of it being sheer luck, as follows:

ーー ‘That man is the Devil.’

Meanwhile the President saw his survival as a miracle,

and only became more and more captivated by Trismégiste.

Whatever it was he wished for,

the President would make sure it happened.

This marked the beginning of the downfall of the whole nation.

As a result of being won over by Trismégiste’s sweet words,

the President decided to completely cut ties,

with all the people who had supported him thus far.

He even began to use the Nation’s public funds,

imposing high taxes on the masses.

To keep the population and taxation yields high,

the abortion law was abolished,

but those living in poverty did not have the extra money to raise a child.

As a result, many were abandoned by their parents at birth,

as young children who grew up on the streets or inside the sewers,

began to terrorize the city.

This crisis went on for many years,

but eventually a time would come where the population revolted.

This would go down in history as ‘the Revolution’. (1)

The President was executed at the end of this Revolution,

as the population finally regained its freedom.

Trismégiste was said to have been supporting his dictatorship from behind the scenes,

and was therefore executed alongside him,

by being publically hung on the town’s square...or that was the plan, at least.

However, they say that his corpse,

mysteriously vanished in thin air.

And nobody knows what happened to him afterwards.

ーー Any book covering the story of Trismégiste,

ends with his execution and disappearance.

But there is one writing,

which mentions that perhaps a loyal follower of Trismégiste,

might have carried his corpse away after his death.

However, this is but a mere speculation,

and nobody knows what actually happened.

Ruki: ( ...I suppose the information I gained at the Sakamaki Castle was correct after all. )

( The President’s dictatorship. Many abandoned children, the Revolution...These are all things I remember from my personal past as well. )

( Since I was born into a rich family, I did not experience all of these struggles first-hand, but it can’t be denied that such a tragedy took place in this country. )

( I was too arrogant to realize that I would get involved in all of it. However, I had no idea... )

( That behind the scenes...there was someone pulling all of the strings, Trismégiste. )

ー Ruki recalls his Father’s words again

Ruki’s Father: He whispered a couple of sweet words into the president’s ear and had me removed by the president himself! How am I supposed to stay positive under these circumstances!?

ー The flashback ends

Ruki: ( I suppose it was also his fault that my Father, who was a merchant as well as a member of the council, was removed from his position. )

( Because of this man, Fatherーー )

( ...On that fateful day, he took his own life. )

( It was not just my Father I lost. My Mother no longer harbored any feelings for my Father after the situation had changed him and decided to leave the house together with her new lover. )

( That is how I was brought out into the world, all alone...having lost my family, my money as well as my home. )

( ーー If Trismégiste has actually been Karlheinz-sama all along. )

( It would mean that I...have been loyally serving the very same man...who is responsible for ruining my biological Father...? )

...That is simply too ridiculous for words...

ー Another flashback to his childhood ensues

Ruki’s Mother: ーー Ruki! Ruki, are you there?

Ruki: Yes, Mother. Did you call me?

Ruki’s Mother: Aah, so that’s where you’ve been. Say, do you know what day it is today?

Ruki: Of course! It’s Father’s birthday, correct?

Ruki’s Mother: Fufu, exactly. I believe he will be home early today, so let’s all celebrate together, shall we?

Ruki: Yes. ..I wonder if he’ll be happy with my present?

Ruki’s Mother: Of course he’ll be? It’s a gift from his beloved son after all. He might just burst out into tears.

Ruki: Fufu, I hope so.

Ruki’s Father: I’m home! I just got back.

Ruki: Ah! Welcome back, Father!

ー Ruki runs up to his Father

Ruki’s Mother: Hey, Ruki! You shouldn’t run inside the house! ...Fufu, good grief.

ー The flashback ends

Ruki: ( ...Sure, I may have resented them for abandoning me at some point. )

( But up until that day I lost everything, they had always been fine parents which I could be proud of. )

( If only Father had not resorted to alcohol to solve his issues and taken his anger out on my Mother... )

( Even if we would have lost our money, I am sure that my family wouldn’t have broken apart. I don’t think either of them would have abandoned me either... )

( If it wasn’t for Trismégiste, we would have remained happy. ...Howeverーー )

ー The scene shifts to a flashback at Eden

Karlheinz: ーー Ruki. There is something I want you to know.

Ruki: Yes, Karlheinz-sama. What is it?

Karlheinz: Listen carefully. Truth is more than what meets the eye.

Ruki: ...? What do you mean?

Karlheinz: In this world, sometimes the most important things are the ones we cannot see.

You are the only one who can decide whether the things you’ve seen are right or not.

That is why you must never rush a judgement. Although I am sure that a clever boy such as yourself will be able to do that.

Ruki: I understand. If that’s what you want.

ー The flashback ends

Ruki: ( ...Right now, Karlheinz-sama’s teachings are all that I have left. )

( I respected him. That is why I didn’t want to admit it. ーー I didn’t want to have my feelings betrayed again. )

( ...However, actually, from the very beginningーー )

...!

ー Ruki rushes outside to throw up

Ruki: Uu...! ...Haah, haah...!

( Stop it...Don’t assume the worst...! )

( Nothing is certain yet. I shouldn’t...think these things...when I don’t have conclusive proof yet... )

( I must not suspect that man...! )

Hah...Haah...

???: ...Need some help?

Ruki: ...Don’t touch me!!

???: My apologies...You seemed to be feeling unwell. Perhaps I should have minded my own business?

Ruki: No...I’m sorry as well. Don’t take it personally...

ー Ruki walks away

??? A: ...

??? B: Fufu, seems like he took a huge hit.

Kino: He didn’t even recognize you, nor realized that I was closeby.

So? Did you figure out what he looked into just now?

Yuuri: Yes, of course.

Kino: I expected no less from you. Then, could you update me on the way? I’d like to keep the investigation going for now.

That being said...He really radiates those typically human vibes.

I don’t know what exactly he was researching but did you see how pale his face looked? I can’t believe that guy’s actually a Vampire.

ー The scene shifts back to the unknown manor

*Tick・tock・tick・tock*

Yui: ( ...Ruki-kun’s sure taking a while. It’s already late. )

( Did something happen perhaps...? Perhaps I should go look for him? But I probably shouldn’t wander around on my oーー )

ー Somebody enters the house

Yui: ( ...! Seems like he’s back. )

ー Ruki enters the room

Yui: Welcome back. Thank god...I was worried.

Ruki: ...

Yui: Ruki-kun...?

( It’s almost like...He can’t hear me. Also, his complexion is sheer white... )

What’s wrong? Everything alright...?

Ruki: ...Yeah...You waited for me to eat, huh?

...My bad. I don’t think I’ll be able to keep anything down right now.

Yui: Did something happen...?

Ruki: ...I haven’t gotten everything sorted out inside my head yet. Please give me some time alone...

ー Ruki leaves the room

Yui: ( What on earth happened...? )

ー The scene shifts to the outside

Kino: So he entered his room. I don’t think we should expect much else from him for today.

That being said...What was that man’s name again?

Yuuri: Trismégiste, Kino.

KIno: Yeah, that one. Trismégiste. From what I’ve heard, that guy was most likely a Demon of some sorts but...

Still, the rumors are rather intriguing, don’t you think? Do you think it’s true that at the time the Revolution took place, he went around the city and collected people’s corpses?

Yuuri: Who knows, it’s called a rumor for a reason.

However, it is true that some stories still state that Trismégiste left the city with the corpses of those who lost their lives during the Revolution.

Kino: For what reason? Was he a corpse collector, perhaps?

Yuuri: Perhaps he moved them to a proper graveyard?

Kino: Then there’s Ruki as well...There’s some things that caught my interest. I suppose I should do some digging myself.

Yuuri: In that case, how about asking the Ghouls for help?

Many of them are natives to this country. There might even be those who are directly related to this case.

Kino: I see. I suppose I’ll do that then. ...I might be able to get some intel from one of them.

ーー TO BE CONTINUED ーー

Translation notes

(1) I’m no history expert, but I do believe that the games made their own version of the Romanian Revolution which took place in 1989.

#diabolik lovers #dialovers #ruki mukami #lost eden #diabolik lovers translation #ledarkmaniacepilog

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maisonaime · 3 months

Text

TW: discussion of trauma, mentions of a school shooting, me expressing my opinion loudly and unapologetically per usual

*sighs loudly*

*steps up on my (nonexistent) soapbox*

The way some of y’all talk about and invoke trauma so casually while arguing with strangers online is horrific. None of us is exempt from experiencing trauma in our life, so when you invoke trauma in an argument (other than to mention a warning/tag that should be added) what you’re actually doing is revealing yourself as a huge ass.

“Well how could you like [insert character here] they did [insert awful thing] to [insert another character here], you’re so ignorant to trauma”

No, you are. Would those words ever leave your mouth talking to someone in person? Then why do you feel so emboldened to say them online? Have you ever stopped to consider that someone else may see your words and feel deeply wounded or invalidated by what you said?

“Well [character]’s trauma isn’t that important compared to [other character]’s trauma”

Apples to oranges, trauma is not comparative and it is certainly not a competition.

“Well [character a] is awful because they treated [character b] this way, it doesn’t matter that they were traumatized.

Yeah absolutely that was awful and that character’s trauma does not serve as an excuse for their actions, no one’s trauma gives them license to treat others cruelly… that doesn’t stop it from happening frequently in stories and in real life. While I think it can toe a dangerous line of allowing people to excuse their actions as symptomatic of mental illness, I think it’s equally dangerous to label someone as entirely bad because that also gives them license to act according to that label.

Trauma is not a singular thing and the way people respond to trauma is entirely individual. Many many times peoples responses to trauma are not what they want them to be and it causes deep shame (speaking from personal experience), which certainly doesn’t help in the healing process. When people act from a place of pain they will sometimes pass that pain onto others, it is an awful and unavoidable consequence of being a person. Having that shame reinforced when you get online to go to a space of comfort and catharsis is unthinkable.

Part of my therapy modality (Acceptance & Committment or ACT therapy) is learning how to stop defining feelings/thoughts/actions/myself as good or bad because all those things are infinitely more multi-dimensional. Characters, people, actions are infinitely more complicated than one moment, one action, one season of their life.

When you label someone/something as bad and refuse to see the complexities of what formed and informed it, then you put a stopper on what it can become. When you do so in a public forum that others can see, and when you do it in a targeted, critical way, you’re probably unintentionally causing hurt. More than anything you’re demonstrating a commitment to misunderstanding people who have experienced trauma or struggled with mental health in a way that couldn’t be neatly tied up with a bow and packed away, as society loves to do with the traumatized and mentally ill. Especially when their symptoms are not considered socially acceptable.

And before anyone tries to come for me: if I can find a way to feel compassion for the person who shot up my university last year — despite the amount of pain and trauma they caused in a community that I love and hold dearly; despite the anguish and immense fear my friends, my family, my peers & I felt — then you can find a way to give some of these characters you hate so much a second glance before dismissing them so quickly.

TLDR: there’s no purpose in being an anti, go forth with kindness, and remember that when you’re talking about fictional characters on this app they will never read what you say about them, but real people are the ones reading and perceiving your words. When we can hold space for the multitude of experiences and traumas we have all had, we can heal from them. You’re never obligated to read a work that you don’t agree with, but you also don’t have to comment on it.

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anouri · 1 year

Text

10 books to know me

thanks for the tag @fruity-individual < 33

i feel like this might be difficult bc i don't even know myself how am i supposed to tell y'all how to know me. nonetheless, here is a list lmao (also, i will be including poetry collections as books)

When I Grow Up I Want to Be a List of Further Possibilities by Chen Chen

queer child of abusive immigrant parents starter kit

A Little Life by Hanya Yanagihara

i won't get into why or how this book would get you to know me. i just relate to jude a little bit bc he has very similar thought processes to me, okay shh don't worry about it...

Johannes Cabal the Necromancer by Jonathan L. Howard

to get to know my sense of humor

The Secret History by Donna Tartt

encapsulates the exact sort of genre i am obsessed with. i like books where you can't trust the narrator, you can't trust anything that you're being told. everything's morally ambiguous, just like the world we navigate. people are insular and obsessed with the idea of exuding a certain aura. you become obsessed with it too. there's a sort of a morbid curiosity regarding the life they live, and how that very morbid curiosity and pursuit of experience was what led to the characters' downfall. i like how richard papen paints himself to be an observer when he facilitates everything, a mistake i think real people can fall into, as well as the manner by which he was always self-sabotaging himself for the sake of maintaining a facade... i'm babbling. i love this book

The Trouble with Being Born by Emil Cioran

for those who want to see what sort of existential crises my mental illnesses afflict me with one the daily. like: "Who am I? which is my real self: the self of the retort or that of the refraining?” and “Everything exists; nothing exists. Either formula affords a like serenity. The man of anxiety, to his misfortune, remains between them, trembling and perplexed, forever at the mercy of a nuance, incapable of gaining a foothold in the security of being or in the absence of being.” yeah...

Crush by Richard Siken

unfulfilled hopes, mourning, and blood-soaked imagery... very dramatic but that's what goes on in my head, except i lack what he has in experiences, for me it's just daydreaming and projection, mourning what i have never had whilst he's mourning what he's lost

Nausea by Jean Paul-Sartre

the paradoxical and existential nature of the main character's thoughts is strikingly similar to mine (yes this is concerning). the realization that we can become so hyperaware of our own existence that we do not even feel as though we're a part of it, we become so observant we dissociate from the world completely, we hope for peaceful moments whilst also realizing these moments may not exist at all, or maybe they can only be appreciated in retrospect. and all these thoughts do is push you farther away from this peace that you yearn for in the first place, and this realization hits you harshly with a wave of existential nausea you can't explain

The Picture of Dorian Gray by Oscar Wilde

to understand the way i run away from certain facets of life only to be ruined by it

The Stranger by Albert Camus

this was my favorite book when i was 17 and i feel like that in and of itself should tell you a lot

Vicious/Vengeful by V.E. Schwab

for understanding how i'm always giving away parts of myself for science... and also for this quote: “attachment was a vexing thing, as pernicious as weeds. he should have left before it ever took root… ‘be careful,’ she said. what a nuisance, victor told himself, even as he rested his hand on her head.”

ok uh that was long

anyway

no pressure tags!! (and sorry if you've already been tagged and i didn't see it haha): @cornishpixiez @arakhnee @otrtbs @dykegore @messrsage @pjxckson

#tag game #a decomposing dump of my thoughts

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natsmagi · 1 year

Note

I'm sorry but you're wrong. you are wrong. proship is not just "an excuse to draw pedophilic and incestuous things." people have been doing it WITHOUT excuses since the beginning of fandom. some people create those things to process their trauma. of course it might be triggering to some people, but that's why it's tagged and stamped with warnings. so people can avoid it. kids and teenagers can be groomed with literally any media. anything. doesn't matter what it is. kids can be groomed with bluey as easily as with art of underage genshin characters or whatever. what I see as much more dangerous is the idea that there are things that can and should never be explored in fiction, that somehow it's still gross to engage in those things in a space where literally no real human beings are harmed. that's some evangelical thoughtcrime shit and I am not here for it.

I appreciate you saying you would never harass anyone over it, because you'd think that would be the bare minimum, but these days apparently it's not. and on what you said about "you shouldn't have to label yourself proship when you're just anti harrassment" yeah. I agree with that. but you kind of DO have to label yourself that way, because apparently doxxing is just a normal thing people do now and teenagers are getting the idea that harrassment is "righteous" if done to these specific kinds of "bad" people, often minorities and especially queer people.

I'm not saying you have to personally be comfortable with those kinds of content. it is totally understandable to want to avoid them entirely. but I would ask you, what percentage of people who enjoy those things would ever even CONSIDER bringing them into real life? I can pretty much guarantee you that the real percentage is incredibly small, and the proship community is NOT accepting to people who perpetuate real harm against real human beings.

idk. i don't mean to come off as hostile, it just really bothers me that it's come to this. there's nothing wrong with creating content that makes people uncomfortable. and let's just say it's not a coincidence that the people who are vehemently against it are using nazi dogwhistles.

oh jesus okay. i hear what youre saying and i do want to take your words to heart, so ill be trying to be as indepth with this as i can be

quickly though before we start i wanna comment on your last paragraph; the person who sent the ask later sent me a dm and we talked things over so both of us could get a better grasp of the situation. the person is a minor, and while i dont know how old they are, i do genuinely believe that this was an honest mistake on their part. they messaged me out of the kindness of their heart, and while maybe theyre slightly misguided in some areas, i think it is only right to treat each individual with respect and try to educate them when they perpetuate something harmful, especially when theyre young

ok, now lets go over this point by point

"some people create those things to process their trauma." yes! i am well aware of that, and i would never be against people creating vent art of the situations that traumatized them. my issue comes with posting it online for people who are genuinely into that sort of thing to see. maybe its just me but i personally wouldnt want to risk people getting off to my trauma, especially when ive now visualized it in such a personal way. if anything thatd be re-traumatizing for me. i dont see the point in having it so publicly available for anyone to see

"of course it might be triggering to some people, but that's why it's tagged and stamped with warnings. so people can avoid it." which is good! and i think it would be deeply unwise of someone who is uncomfortable with these topics to seek them out and engage with it. if triggering content is being made and it makes you uncomfortable its better to just leave it be and move on. that said; that doesnt make it any less upsetting to see, especially when its prominent. and people should be allowed to state that they still dont support it, just maybe dont harass the creator because of it

"what I see as much more dangerous is the idea that there are things that can and should never be explored in fiction, that somehow it's still gross to engage in those things in a space where literally no real human beings are harmed." in my post didnt i mention that i think dark topics should be explored too? maybe i phrased it poorly but yes i agree with this point. i do not think you or anyone else should be shamed for consuming dark media, even if it consists of fucked up topics like what tends to be the focus of proshipping. the thing is though; these topics need to be handled tastefully. they need to be handled with respect and empathy for the victims, or else itll just feel pornographic. if youre just writing detailed smut about a grown man with a child, what is it we're exploring? is it gonna go into the psychological effects that would leave on the child? was the amount of detail in the smut necessary? was the smut ever truly necessary to get the point of sexual assault across? all these things should be considered when dealing with these topics, because again, theyre VERY HEAVY and should be treated as such

"apparently doxxing is just a normal thing people do now and teenagers are getting the idea that harrassment is "righteous" if done to these specific kinds of "bad" people, often minorities and especially queer people." yes, it is a very unfortunate thing. this is not something i can defend. i can however shed some light on different sides to this though. most often these kids arent doing much more than hitting you with a mean jokey qrt, while only a small portion actually go out of their way to full-on harrass someone. neither of course is okay, but lets not act like this is something only these teens engage in. i have seen many proshippers go out of their way to leave comments on teens posts where they whine about proshipping about how theyre wrong and horrible people for thinking such things, sometimes even spamming them just to try and get a response so they can dunk on them with some Sick Own, as if theyre not arguing with literal kids online. no side is in the clear on this, so lets not act like one is holier than the other

"what percentage of people who enjoy those things would ever even CONSIDER bringing them into real life?" i dont doubt many proshippers wouldnt bring these fictional fantasies into the real world, what scares me is the audience it may attract. i.e. pedophiles and the like. you and your proshipper friends might be lovely people who would never even think of committing these crimes, but what about the silent onlookers? the percentage that actually WOULD consider it? the margain may be small, but should we not try eliminating it to the best of our abilities? now, you could argue that it is not your responsibility nor within your power who consumes your content, and id have to agree with that. but from a personal standpoint thats just not something i can get behind. maybe its my paranoia talking, but since the probability is still there its not something i can bring myself to support. you mentioned earlier that kids can be groomed by anything, and thats true. but my fear lies less with kids stumbling upon the content, and moreso actual pedos finding content to get off on and a safe space to discuss these fantasies, although having it be about fictional characters rather than real kids. yes, they will always find a way if theyre sick enough, but thats why i want it to at least be explicitly known that pedophilia is not respected and you will be shunned for it. so even if proshippers dont actually support it, i fear it gives pedophiles a place to indulge in their fantasies (and for even more claritys sake; i am not calling proshippers pedos)

"there's nothing wrong with creating content that makes people uncomfortable." i agree with you!! its okay to make content that makes people uncomfortable, theres art in that. art can be expressed in so many forms, and sometimes the intent IS to make the audience uncomfortable. but like ive stated; with these things you really have to handle it with utmost care. and i dont think the intent with this type of content tends to be to make the audience uncomfortable either? all i often tend to really see is people talking about how hot they find it, and i dont think that should be the takeaway from topics like this. again; its all about intent.

"and let's just say it's not a coincidence that the people who are vehemently against it are using nazi dogwhistles." but isnt preaching "theyre trying to take our freedom away!!" a right-wing dogwhistle too ?? the constant fearmongering i see in the proshipping community is concerning. making up stories just to make the other side look bad, claiming theyre silencing you, is this not what the right does??? why do i see it so often from the proshipping community???? again, both sides have faults. can we please stop acting like one is better than the other??? i frankly want no part in this discourse.

to finish this off though, i am sorry anon. i never want my account to feel like a place where people cant express themselves and be who they are. but i do still have my own morals and views. i have my own ideals, and i have my own principles. i do not identify with either anti or proship, its just the dangers of proshipping scares me more than the dangers of antis. of course both can get bad. my point was never to argue in favor of the other side, my point was only ever to let it be known that i dont condone proshipping. that is all

if i misrepresented your community im sorry. i am only one guy at the end of the day and theres only so much i can know on these topics while also only being 19 years old. theres much i dont know, so thats why im always willing to learn. but no matter how hard i try the fear of giving pedophiles a place in a community terrifies me. the mere thought is enough to make me scared for those younger than me out there.

it was never my intention to dictate how one should or should not consume media. you are free to do as you wish, i have no authority over you, these are just my reasons as to why it isnt something that i can support.

thank you though for taking your time to write to me. i hope ive made my stance clearer and have it known that i dont mean any malice. im just so deeply scared of more children getting harmed due to personal reasons and its genuinely bringing me to tears. thank you again

#ask

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snickerdoodlles · 1 year

Note

texting fics for the fic tropes ask?

somehow A++ and a big fat red F at the same time LOL

okay so like. you may not know this about me, but i love social media fic (ik ik, hold your shocked gasps til the end). i absolutely love epistolary stories in general--i am a huge, huge fan of outsider POV and unreliable narrator tropes, and epistolary stories are so well suited to one or both of these things. epistolary stories put either a very, very narrow telescope on and/or a very broad/vague/heavily filtered overview of a narrative and i love reading between the lines and teasing out the story that way. plus, especially with a lot of neat ao3 works skins (which i...don't use because im lazy 💦), a lot of these stories play with the traditional way to tell a story and explore narratives told through different types of media, often very punchy types of environmental storytelling, and more, which is so cool to me. i'm not even talking about all the ways epistolary fic can play with character voice, and the differences between speaking vs texting, conversation habits across mediums, etc!!

chat fics...sometimes manage the above.

unfortunately though, many also often fall into referential humor traps and like...sitcom storylines (i'm not sure if that made up term makes sense lol). my point though is that some chat fics are really just treated like those incorrect quotes blogs but in a format that can be posted to ao3. and i already have a lot of irritation with incorrect quotes--it's very rare that a genuinely funny joke can just be ripped from its original context and still be funny, and a lot of people use referential humor as a crutch because they're scared of writing their own humor/jokes. but the thing is, the more references you use, the more you isolate and/or narrow your audience because not everyone is going to know what you're referencing; and it's one thing as a reader to skip over one joke you don't recognize, it's another to skip over multiple jokes in a row that make no sense to you. this goes doubly for chat fics that rely primarily on memes, which are esp flavor-of-the-week references whose original context gets lost almost immediately. and then on top of the humor crutch, a lot of these fics forget that like...epistolary stories still have a narrative? they still have a plot? you still have to explain how the characters started talking to each other, why they're still talking to each other, wrap it up in a good end goal, etc. and a lot of fic just...doesn't. i have zero interest in reading a fic that throws everyone into a groupchat with zero regard for how the individual characterizations, just to ramble out a bunch of ill-fitting references with no end goal or point in sight. sighs

so yeah! epistolary/social media/texting/etc fics are almost always the first set of tags i run through when i first enter a fandom tag and i'll often read those first over everything else because when they're done right, they're so. good.

but if there's no explanation to the how or the why, or zero regard to characterization or voice, or too many memes, i'm immediately out and will probably even mute the story so that it's easier for me to navigate the tags in the future 😂

.❤.

send me a fic trope!

#inbox games #i tried VERY HARD not to go full ramble city #didnt really succeed but I Tried #i also did not just gush about the texting fic i RLY love here please admire my strength 🤣#but also does anyone want texting/socmed/epistolary fic recs because oh boy do i have recs

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