#so its hard to explain this to some people

[akeaaan]

Change 2

Jinu X fem. reader

part1

word count: 4.7k

a/n: I bless you guys with this, idk why I made it like this and shit but yeah here the last part yall

Synopsis: ╰┈➤You were once a feared demon of the underworld—until you turned your back on that life. Branded a traitor, you escaped to the human world and lived quietly in the shadows, blending in among mortals for years. Peace became your new normal. Routine. Safe. That is, until fate stepped in. A single encounter with Jinu—the sharp-eyed, silver-tongued leader of the rising idol group Saja Boys—shattered your calm existence.

〃✦ ┆ You vaulted over the railing of your penthouse bedroom, landing with a soft thud on the floor below. Sliding the glass door open, you walked in with a tired groan and shook your head, muttering under your breath.

“Why the hell did I do that…” you sighed, pressing your fingers to your temples. “Stupid. So stupid.”

Sealing your father’s voice—the ancient, terrifying weight of Gwi Ma’s presence—into Jinu’s head temporarily? That wasn’t just reckless. That was borderline suicidal.

A low, rumbling growl snapped you out of your spiral.

Your gaze shifted toward the bed, where a massive figure had claimed your mattress.

Not a dog.

A wolf.

No—a demon wolf.

It lay there like it owned the place, sprawled across your bed with limbs stretched out in every direction, completely unbothered by your mental crisis. Its fur shimmered faintly under the moonlight slipping through the windows, black with streaks of silver like ink in motion. Its tail gave a lazy flick.

The demon yawned, glancing at you with glowing amber eyes before settling back down.

You raised an eyebrow. “You're real comfortable, huh?”

In response, the wolf purred—a deep, vibrating sound—and rubbed its fur deeper into your mattress. You plopped down at the edge of the bed with a tired grunt. The wolf shifted without protest, curling around and laying its massive head on your lap.

You stared down at it for a long moment. The gentle rise and fall of its breathing didn’t match the chaos in your mind.

Because really, what the hell had you done?

You sealed Gwi Ma’s voice inside Jinu.

Temporarly

Jinu. Of all people.

Why him?

Was it pity? Guilt?

Or was it something uglier—some selfish instinct to push the curse onto someone who could carry it without tearing your world apart?

You couldn’t even explain it to yourself.

And now, it was done.

The seal was in place. Gwi Ma’s voice echoed in Jinu’s mind, long gone for now. And you could only hope he was strong enough to handle it.

You sighed, hand absentmindedly brushing through the wolf’s thick fur.

Even if you tried to avoid it, your paths were bound to cross again. You were both idols, standing on stages under the same spotlights, your names whispered in the same circles.

Destiny had its own sense of humor.

“Maybe the Huntrix will just finish the job,” you muttered dryly. “Save us both the trouble.”

The wolf let out a sleepy snort.

You weren’t even sure if that was agreement—or mockery.

You stood in front of the mirror in your waiting room, hands braced on the vanity as you tried to calm the racing of your heart. The makeup lights made your skin glow, but your eyes—your eyes told a different story. Focused. Fierce. A little scared.

You inhaled deeply through your nose, held it, then exhaled slowly.

Tonight wasn’t just another comeback. This was the comeback.

Your outfit shimmered under the warm lights—custom, sharp, stage-ready. The mic was clipped to your ear, in-ear monitors already tucked in. Everything was set. This was your newest single’s first live performance on Mnet, and the world was watching.

KNOCK KNOCK.

“Y/N, you're up in five!” called a staff member through the door.

You swallowed hard and forced a reply. “Y-yeah, I’ll be right there.”

Their footsteps faded. Silence returned. You looked back at your reflection and gave yourself a small nod.

You’ve worked too hard to get here. Too many sleepless nights. Too many sacrifices. This stage is yours. Nothing and no one’s going to take it away.

With that thought, you turned and grabbed the door handle.

But the second you opened it, your body froze.

Your breath hitched.

“What the heck are you doing here?” you blurted, eyes narrowing.

“Jinu…”

He stood leaning against the hallway wall, arms crossed over his chest, wearing his idol outfit, but there was no mistaking him. Same intense eyes. Same aura that never really let you breathe when he was close.

“We need to talk,” Jinu said calmly, voice low but serious.

You blinked, shaking your head. “Now? Really? I’m about to go on stage.”

You moved past him quickly, boots echoing against the linoleum floor as you headed for the backstage corridor. But of course, you heard him behind you. His quiet, deliberate footsteps.

“There’s nothing to talk about,” you snapped, not even glancing back.

“I think there is,” he replied, but his tone wasn’t biting. It was... tired. Hesitant.

You kept walking.

But then you felt it—his hand wrapping gently but firmly around your wrist. You stopped in your tracks. You feel the demon patterns on both of your arms starting to form.

“Y/N,” he said, and this time when you looked back, you saw it—whatever he’d been holding in. The regret. The urgency. The softness he only ever showed you behind closed doors.

You didn’t speak.

Not yet.

But you didn’t pull away either.

“I don’t want to work with him anymore,” Jinu said finally. “With Gwi Ma.”

You blinked. 

He looked straight at you.

“You can help. You’re his daughter.”

You stiffened instantly. The hallway felt colder.

“Don’t say that out loud,” you snapped, stepping forward, eyes darting. “You don’t know what you’re talking about.”

But he didn’t flinch. Didn’t back off.

“You are,” he said. “You don’t work under him. You were never branded. Never bound like the rest of us. You're the only one who can talk to him without a blade at your throat.”

Your mouth opened—but you didn’t know what to say.

The truth was… he wasn’t wrong.

You hated it. You hated that your blood had ties to a name like Gwi Ma’s. You hated that even after cutting every tie, leaving the underworld, his rule, everything behind, people like Jinu still found you. Still needed something from you that only he could give.

But beneath the tension, the unspoken history, and all the things you left unsaid... You and Jinu shared one undeniable truth— Freedom.

You both craved it. From the shadows. From the blood-soaked contracts. From the underworld that shaped you and broke you in the same breath.

You weren’t just performers. You were survivors. Bound by the same cursed fate that ran deeper than fame, deeper than music. You both wanted out.

Jinu’s grip on your wrist loosened slightly, like he didn’t want to force you—like he hoped you’d choose him on your own.

And you did.

You closed your eyes, the weight of everything catching up to you for just a second. 

“…Fine.”

Your voice was barely above a whisper. Tired. Resigned. But resolute.

You opened your eyes, lifting your gaze to meet his. Jinu’s expression had softened, the usual cool edge in his stare melting into something vulnerable. Something real.

“I’ll help you,” you said quietly.

His hand didn’t let go—but it didn’t tighten either. It just stayed. Solid. Grounding. A silent thank you.

The stage was calling, but now… so was the war you swore you'd never fight again

Your legs dangled over the balcony railing, swaying slightly above a dizzying drop—hundreds of feet from the ground. One wrong movement and it would be over in an instant. But the danger didn’t faze you. Not tonight.

The city glowed beneath you—alive, unaware. Neon signs blinked in rhythm with traffic. A breeze rustled your hair, cool against your skin.

“You’re a terrible sneaker, you know that?” you said casually, not even turning your head.

A low chuckle answered you before a soft thud followed. You glanced sideways to see Jinu, landing on your balcony with the grace of someone who’d done it a thousand times.

“What gave it away?” he asked, brows raised as he pulled back his hood.

You turned your eyes back to the skyline. “I can feel your energy. It always gives you away.”

A dim glow started to pulse along your arm—faint, curling demon marks slowly forming like ink soaking through your skin. You studied them with no urgency, just resignation.

Jinu leaned beside you on the railing, hands in his pockets. He didn’t interrupt the silence.

“My father…” you began, voice low, “is the worst man alive.”

That caught Jinu’s attention. He turned slightly toward you, waiting.

You gave a bitter laugh. “And I’m his favorite daughter. Funny, right? The one he loved most… is the one who betrayed him.”

Jinu didn’t speak, but his silence felt like encouragement. You continued.

“I don’t even know how I survived all these years.” He tilted his head. “Then how did you?” he asked softly.

You finally looked at him, eyes tired but calm. “I fed,” you said bluntly. “On corrupted souls. I hunted them myself, quietly. It was the only way I knew how to live without becoming what he wanted.”

Jinu's expression darkened, but he remained quiet.

“When I was a child,” you continued, “he started sending me here… slipping me through cracks between realms like I was nothing. Just a spy. A pawn.” You exhaled sharply. “He didn’t care how small I was. He just wanted information. Souls. Obedience.”

Your hands clenched the railing. “But every time I crossed over… I felt something. Peace. Even if it was brief.”

You smiled faintly, eyes softening with the memory.

“A young couple found me once. Took me in. They thought I was just a lost child.” You paused, your voice nearly breaking. “They were kind. They raised me. Loved me. And when my father found out—he forced me to take their souls.”

Jinu finally looked at you fully. You didn’t meet his eyes.

“That was the moment I knew,” you whispered, “it was all wrong. Everything. I ran. I hid. I started using my power in secret—helping the Hunters. Sealing the honmoon. Destroying demons that slipped through.”

“…And killing your own kind,” Jinu finished for you, voice steady.

You nodded.

“I killed them because they were hurting innocents. Because they didn’t care who they destroyed. But I’m no hero either… I’ve taken souls too, even after I swore I wouldn’t.”

Your voice cracked as you added, “I know this world isn’t perfect. It’s full of pain and selfishness. But it’s still better than the never-ending torment of the underworld.”

Jinu didn’t speak right away. The wind rustled your hair again. Then he said, barely above a whisper:

"Sounds to me like you saved yourself."

You blinked slowly, letting his words sink in like a knife dulled by time but still sharp enough to hit where it hurts.

Then, quieter, gentler—his voice barely above a breath:

“And maybe… there’s still more worth saving.”

Your gaze met his, locked—daring, vulnerable, charged with something you didn’t want to name.

"You..." you whispered.

In a swift motion, you leapt from the railing, boots landing soundlessly against the cold rooftop tiles. Jinu pushed himself off the opposite side, standing tall as he faced you—chest rising with every slow inhale.

Then, it began.

Your patterns awakened first—slowly crawling up your arms like living ink, pulsing with familiar power, before consuming you entirely. Your eyes burned with a fierce, glowing violet hue. This was the real you. The form you didn’t show just anyone.

Your demon form stood bare before him.

Jinu's breath caught in his throat. His lips parted. He couldn’t look away. Something primal stirred in him as he lowered his gaze—his own markings responding instinctively. They crawled across his skin like heat rising beneath the surface, until his yellow eyes locked with yours—burning to match.

You stepped toward him, silent, slow, dangerous. Your hand rose, fingertips barely grazing his jaw before your palms gently cupped his face—like you’d done the last time you were alone. Back when everything was simpler... or maybe just easier to ignore.

Jinu didn’t move. He stood there, eyes flicking from your lips to your eyes. You leaned in slightly, almost ready to speak the chant pulsing at the back of your throat.

But his voice stopped you.

“You never noticed me…” he murmured, barely audible—like a secret spilling from a locked place in his chest.

You froze, the words anchoring you in place.

“What?” you breathed.

He smiled faintly. Not out of happiness—out of resignation.

“I kept seeing you with Gwi Ma… I wanted to talk to you, I did. But I always got cold feet.” His laugh was soft, bitter. “Back then, I was barely holding it together. Newly turned, still figuring out how to control the patterns. But you...”

His voice trailed as the memory pulled him back. His gaze softened.

“You stood there, with your head high, commanding the space like you were born for it. Gwi Ma gave you orders, and you didn’t even flinch. You looked untouchable.”

You remembered that moment. The spy meetings. The night before everything shifted.

Jinu’s voice broke the silence again, quiet and aching:

“Ever since that day…” his voice was low, smoky, just above a whisper. “I couldn’t stop watching you.”

Jinu stepped forward—slow, deliberate. The kind of step that didn’t just close distance, it claimed it. His golden eyes flickered under the moonlight like burning embers behind smoke, catching every unsteady breath you took.

“And then you disappeared,” he murmured, now just inches away.

His words ghosted over your lips, and though he hadn't touched you yet, you could taste him in the air—warm, wild, and aching with something unsaid.

“Without a word,” he added, almost accusing. But his tone was soft. Hurt, maybe. Or worse—longing.

You couldn’t answer. Not really. Not with how your chest tightened. Not with how his presence filled the air like a storm.

“Until now.”

Your breath hitched. You hated how much he still affected you. How he always had. Since the first time he saw you—really saw you—backstage during Play Games With Us.

He told himself you just looked like her. Just a random idol with a familiar face. But when your paths crossed… when your shoulders brushed and he felt that undeniable pattern in his soul unlock—he knew.

It was you.

The girl he never had the courage to speak to in the demon world.

The one who haunted him across dimensions.

Your heartbeat thundered in your chest, deafening in your ears. It was too loud. Too fast. And somehow, Jinu heard it anyway.

“I see it now…” he whispered, his hand rising slowly to cup your cheek. His touch was impossibly gentle. No trace of the coldness your kind were known for. Just warmth—steady, real.

“The real you.”

You didn’t dare speak. The moment was too fragile, like it would shatter if you so much as breathed wrong.

Only the tension. The breath you both held. The weight of everything unsaid.

The ghost of hands that had hovered close but never touched.

Lips that once looked but never dared.

Not until now.

When his lips pressed against yours, your eyes widened. It was slow. Searching. Testing a boundary he’d waited years to cross.

You didn’t pull away.

You melted.

Your eyes closed.

Your lips parted—inviting him in without knowing why. Needing him like oxygen.

His hand moved to your hip, firm and possessive, pulling you against him as he deepened the kiss. His tongue slipped past your lips, and the kiss turned hungry, urgent, electric.

And all you could think was:

Finally.

Your heels hit the floor with each backward step, heartbeat pounding loud enough to drown everything else out—except him.

Jinu followed without hesitation, lips crashing into yours, his breath hot and uneven as he kissed you like he’d been starving. His hands were everywhere, gripping your waist, sliding up your sides, pulling you closer like the space between you two offended him.

Your back hit the cool glass of the sliding door. The contact made you gasp into his mouth, your hand still cupping his cheek while your other reached behind blindly, fingers fumbling until the door slid open. You stepped backward again, drawing him in, and he didn’t even pause—just kicked the door shut behind you.

The room was colder than expected, but neither of you noticed.

Not really.

Jinu broke the kiss, panting, his forehead leaning against yours as he stared at you—eyes blown wide, dark with something primal.

"You're so beautiful..." he breathed, but it wasn’t just admiration. It was a whimper. A confession. A breaking point.

Then he kissed you again—messier, harder, almost frantic. Desperate hands pulled you forward as he guided you to the edge of the bed, gripping your hips to keep you from falling too fast.

You shivered, but not from the cold.

He laid you down with care that contrasted the hunger in his touch. One hand slipped under your shirt, palm splaying over your stomach, fingers dragging up—slow and teasing—until they reached the curve of your chest. The other hand slid down, rougher now, grabbing your thigh and lifting it up, anchoring you to him.

You wrapped your leg around his waist instinctively, pulling him in, grinding into the pressure.

He groaned low in his throat, redirecting the kiss—his lips trailed from your mouth to your chin, along your jaw, then lower. His mouth attacked your neck—biting, sucking, leaving a trail of heat and bruises and sin. Your hands tangled in his hair, nails scraping his scalp as your hips arched into him.

You turned your head to the side, offering more, wanting more.

And he took it. Eagerly.

His lips found the spot behind your ear and when his tongue flicked against the skin, you nearly lost it. His knees shifted between your thighs and when one of them brushed there—through the fabric, right against your already wet slit—

You moaned.

You tried to stop it. Bit your lip. But it slipped out, raw and breathy and broken.

Jinu froze for just a second—just long enough to hear it, feel it—and when he looked back down at you, eyes dark and wild and locked on yours, it was clear.

He wanted to ruin you.

And God—you were going to let him.

Jinu’s hand slid slowly up your thigh, fingers trailing fire beneath your skin. He brushed against the edge of your shorts, and his smirk deepened the moment he felt it—the telltale dampness soaked through the fabric.

“Mm,” he hummed lowly, eyes locked on yours. “You’re already wet for me.”

The way he said it, voice all gravel and dark delight, made your breath catch. You propped yourself up on your elbows, looking down where his fingers teased, hovering but never touching where you needed him most. Your lips parted—maybe to protest, maybe to pretend you weren’t so shamelessly worked up already.

But you couldn’t lie. Not to him.

Not when your body betrayed you so easily.

Jinu's eyes gleamed. "No need to hide it, baby."

He gripped the waistband of your shorts and underwear, tugging them down in one slow, deliberate motion. You lifted your hips for him, heart pounding, heat pooling low in your belly. He peeled the fabric away, baring you completely, and let it drop to the floor with a quiet thud.

You turned your head, shame rising despite the arousal surging through you.

“Hey,” he murmured, his voice softer now—dangerous in another way.

His hand left your waist, slipped under your shirt and up to your chin, coaxing your face back toward his. “Didn’t I say all eyes on me?” His thumb brushed over your lips, slow and intimate, like he owned every inch of you already.

You met his gaze.

His smile was pure sin. “That’s my good girl…”

You clenched around nothing, heat flooding you all over again from just those three words.

Jinu dropped to his knees between your thighs like he belonged there. He slid one of your legs over his shoulder, positioning you exactly how he wanted, spreading you open like a gift he couldn’t wait to unwrap.

He looked down at you, then back up—his eyes dark, pupils blown wide, jaw tight with restraint.

“I want you to watch,” he said, voice like velvet and vice. “Don’t look away. Just keep your eyes on me… while I make this pretty pussy forget how to breathe.” 

He didn’t hesitate—not even for a second.

Jinu dropped to his knees like he was born to worship you there, hands gripping the backs of your thighs as he dove in without mercy. His long, eager tongue plunged deep into your soaked cunt, and you nearly lost your balance right then and there.

The obscene sound of him slurping at your core filled the room, his mouth messy with your slick as he groaned into you like a man starved.

“Mmf…, you taste like heaven,” he muttered between licks, his voice thick with hunger.

He didn’t stop—he devoured you. Tongue flicking wildly against your swollen cunt, then sucking on it like it owed him something. Your legs shook as you tangled your fingers in his hair, pulling him closer, guiding his mouth right where you needed him.

“Jinu—ah—don’t stop, fuck—”

You watched through half-lidded eyes as he kissed every part of your slit like it was sacred. His gaze flicked up, dark and locked on yours, and it only made the heat in your belly coil tighter.

Then—just when you thought you couldn’t take more—you felt it.

A sudden stretch inside. His fingers.

Two of them, sliding into your dripping hole with ease, curling upward with wicked precision as he pumped them in and out, his mouth never once leaving your clit.

The combination made you choke on a gasp.

“Oh my god—”

His growl sent a hot vibration through your core, and your hips bucked instinctively.

“You’re so fucking wet,” he rasped, breath hot against you, “All for me, huh?”

Your stomach clenched.

That knot—tight and burning—started building fast. Too fast.

He sucked your clit hard, fingers driving deeper, faster, and your body gave in with a cry. The knot snapped.

You came undone on his face with a moan so raw, it echoed around the room. Your body trembled as the waves hit, one after another, and he didn’t let up—didn’t stop—until you were shaking, until your thighs were twitching around his head.

And when you finally looked down at him…

He was smiling.

Lips glistening, tongue darting out to lick up your release, shamelessly savoring it.

Then slowly—deliberately—he slid his fingers out of you and held them up between you both, watching you.

And without breaking eye contact, he brought those fingers to his lips and sucked them clean.

“Tastes like fucking addiction,” Jinu growled against your lips, his voice a low, sinful drawl that sent heat straight between your legs.

He pulled back just enough to look at you, eyes dark and pupils blown wide, then leaned in again—claiming your mouth in a kiss that was messy and hungry. You gasped as you tasted yourself on him, the tang of your arousal still wet on his tongue as he licked deep into your mouth, slow and deliberate. His tongue curled behind your teeth, exploring like he owned every inch of you—and he did. Tonight, he fucking did.

When he finally pulled away, your lips were swollen and your lungs desperate for air. You let your head fall back against the pillow, dragging yourself up the headboard, legs still spread and trembling slightly.

Jinu just smirked at the sight—your wrecked expression, flushed skin, the way your chest rose and fell like you were trying to keep it together.

“You okay?” he asked, low and husky, with just a flicker of concern under all that cocky heat.

You nodded, breathless. “Yeah…”

“Good.” His voice dropped another octave as he reached down and peeled his hoodie off in one slow motion, tossing it to the floor without a care. It left him in nothing but those black pants, the fabric hugging his hips in the most unfair way.

Your eyes dropped immediately. Down the hard line of his torso—past the chiseled abs, the demon marks curling over his skin like some kind of dark prophecy etched into his flesh. Down to the sharp cut of his hips, the V-line so defined it made your mouth go dry.

And then there it was—his cock, thick and hard and pressing against the fabric.

He caught you staring, and that smug, lazy smirk spread across his face.

“I knew I’m hot,” he said, already unbuckling his pants with one hand, the metallic clink echoing in the quiet room.

“You’ve been looking like you want to fuck me all night, baby.”

And honestly?

You did.

you tossed your own shirt leaving you on your bra and nothing else. once jinu took off his pants he went back kissing your neck sucking on it giving marks, his cock pressed against your bare cunt, one of his hand moved its way on your back

clicked 

His fingers made quick work of your bra, the clasp undone like second nature. He didn’t even hesitate—he just pressed himself closer, his lips catching your gasp as your bra was flung somewhere into the shadows of the dim bedroom.

You felt him roll his hips against you, and your breath hitched. You could feel him—hard, needy, pressed right where you were pulsing for friction. A desperate sound escaped your throat, something between a moan and a plea.

Jinu’s breath was hot against your neck, but his voice? Low, strained, laced with restraint he was barely holding on to.

“Can I?” he asked, forehead resting against yours, his eyes searching—burning with both desire and something softer. Need.

You nodded, not trusting your voice. It was more than consent. It was surrender.

He slid his boxers down, and his [blank] pressed right against your entrance—hot, heavy, and aching. When he pushed in slowly, the stretch burned in the best way, making your legs tremble.

“A-ah—” you hissed through clenched teeth, your back arching slightly.

Jinu let out a rough groan, fingers flexing around your waist as he buried himself deeper. You could feel how he shook with the effort of holding still, breathing ragged. He reached up, brushing your hair gently from your damp forehead, voice soft—soothing.

“Hey… I got you, yeah? You’re doing so good for me already.”

When he was fully seated inside you, he didn’t move. He waited—only moving when you gave a shaky nod of approval.

Then he started.

At first it was slow. Tender. Every thrust deliberate, like he was savoring every second inside you. You whimpered, your body adjusting around him, pain melting into something slick and molten.

Then his rhythm shifted—slowly, gradually—until his hips snapped into yours with growing force. The sound of skin slapping skin filled the room, messy and obscene, your moans rising in pitch with every stroke.

He grunted as he braced himself against the headboard, hand digging into the wood for leverage. The pace was rough now—cock, relentless—and then with a sharp snap, the headboard cracked beneath his grip.

But neither of you cared.

Not when you were moaning his name like a prayer, not when his voice dropped to a low growl in your ear:

“Damm—you feel so fucking good. So tight—like you’re made for me.”

He slammed back into you, chasing deeper. “Say it. Say you want it.”

Your voice broke, breathless and wrecked, “I—want it —Jinu, please, don’t stop.”

And he didn’t.

He didn’t slow down—not even when the bedframe gave a harsh crack beneath you. His pace only grew rougher, more punishing, as if chasing something deep inside you. Each thrust dragged a broken sound from your throat, and the knot in your belly twisted tighter, sharper.

“Fuck.. you’re so tight,” Jinu hissed between clenched teeth, his voice guttural as he felt you start to clamp down on him. “You’re about to—aren’t you?”

You couldn’t answer. Couldn’t form anything but a moan that pitched higher with every slam of his hips. Your nails raked down his back, leaving angry red marks that made him groan—not from pain, but pride.

“Just like that,” he growled, his breath hot against your skin. “Fucking take it.”

And you did. You took all of him—deeper, harder—until your body couldn’t take anymore. You shattered around him, crying out his name, spine arching off the mattress as your orgasm crashed into you.

That was all it took.

He cursed under his breath as his rhythm faltered—then stilled—burying himself to the hilt as heat flooded inside you. You felt it, that warm pulse of cum, and the way he trembled slightly above you as he rode the high with you.

Both of you were gasping, the room thick with the scent of sweat, sex, and something heavier. Jinu leaned forward, resting his forehead against yours, still inside you.

Neither of you moved. Not yet.

“I can’t hear him anymore,” he murmured against your lips—eyes fluttering shut, voice almost... relieved.

You closed your eyes too, pulling him even closer. His skin was warm against yours, heartbeat steady, chest rising and falling in sync with your own. There were no more walls. No more distance. Just the quiet rhythm of breath and the lingering fire of everything unspoken now laid bare between you.

You stayed like that for a while—bodies tangled, souls unwinding.

Jinu opened his eyes first.

He looked at you—really looked at you. And this time, there was nothing but love swimming in his gaze. Relief. Longing. The kind that had waited too long and held on too tight.

He exhaled softly, brushing a thumb along your jaw.

“…The bed broke,” he murmured, almost like he just realized it.

You blinked slowly, and then let out a breathy laugh. “It’s the demon strength,” you whispered back, voice tired but laced with affection.

He smiled—lazy, genuine, and rare.

“Guess I owe you a new frame.”

You rested your forehead against his. “Guess you do.”

Neither of you moved to get up. The world outside could wait a little longer.

For once… there was no hunt. No stage. No pressure.

Just you, and Jinu, and the quiet in between.

a/n: ITS SO BADDD OMGGG STOPPP it's my first time writing full-on smut yall don't judge :( also idk how to end it so here your food Jinu was a bit ooc during the smexy scene lol

taglist: @miffysoo @akariis4snowball @zhentheraven @nisarelle @aise-30 @pjs-gf-foreal @22carolina08 @violetraccoon-4

[youngdragon463]

1: Yes

2: My brother

3: No

4: Yes

5: Single

6: Clinging onto every ounce of life I have left all the while forcing myself to stay concious as long as possible. I dont know if Ill get another chance, so I want to go out making sure I dont leave a second unlived

7: Kabab

8: Football, Soccer. Liked neither

9: Yes

10: playing with my brother

11: I like a lot of people, however none of that is romantic or sexual.

12: No

13: I dont think so

14: Yes I miss my mom I am on a trip currently

15: Many, 3 dog 5 cat

16:

17: No

18: Yes

19: No, never, not in a million years

20: I havent

21: Continue coding a silly little minecraft project

22: Im 50/50. Im not opposed to the idea some day. The amount doesnt really matter.

23: No

24: Math and science

25: I think yes, I havent had many friends but I have moved a couple times

26: Dark Chocolate coated Caramel sprinkled in corse salt

27: I hope not, I havent been in a relationship so probobly no

28: No

29: No

30: Coding is hard

31: I have many people who care for me. I am compleatly oblivous if anyone is attracted 5k me however but I think not.

32: Azure

33: No

34: Tensura

35: My Mother

36: Others might think so, but my logic is as long as their capable of wanting change thats enough for me.

37: Forgive, I refuse to forget I will grasp onto every memory I can

38: I think so

39: Older than I am now

40: No

41: Soup

42: No, their is no true reason for anything, the beauty of intelligent life is that they created the concept of meaning

43: Bathroom

44: No, if your done with a relationship end it before you do somthing with someone else, if your not in a situation to do so, fight for a safe enviornment

45: No, I will only be mean in jest. I belive a lot of people have gentleness confused with "softness"

46: Depends on your meaning, technically ive never been in a real fight, but I have come to blows with my brother, most of the time its for fun not for argument and never serious enough to draw blood.

47: Yes and no, I dont belive in the idea that some people are just magically perfect for eachother on contact. But I do belive that you can foster a truly healthy bond with another by learning and growing from eachother

48: Rain

49: Yes

50: Im not opposed to the idea but I doubt I would find someone for me and that concept doesnt bother me. The marrage itself doesnt matter to me anyone I form a sufficently strong bond with automatically becomes someone I want to spend time with. I dont truly understand the concept of romanticism.

51: Ive never been called such so I dont know how id feel.

52:

53: No I would not change it but having multiple would be cool. In a lot of fantasy many powerful entities have mutiple names and one true name that holds power over their being. I would want a true name and possibly another one so my govt/actual name, my true name, and my personally/altetnate name I just think it would be neat, it wouldnt like be different personalitys or identies though more just like different things to call me.

54: No

55: I cant even be my compleat self in isolation what do you think?

56: I would want to talk about it with them so I can truly understand how they feel and why. I would want to handle the situation delicatly and explain to them that while I dont feel the same I do have an increadible bond with them and I dont want them to drift away because of it.

57: My Step Mother

58: My Mother

59: No

60: Yes my closest friends and family. Their is no pain I wouldnt endure to keep them safe.

The post whent from 40 to 51 so theres only 60. That took a while

@the-fallen-collective

70 horrible questions ... Fuck it

01: Do you have a good relationship with your parents? 02: Who did you last say “I love you” to? 03: Do you regret anything? 04: Are you insecure? 05: What is your relationship status? 06: How do you want to die? 07: What did you last eat? 08: Played any sports? 09: Do you bite your nails? 10: When was your last physical fight? 11: Do you like someone? 12: Have you ever stayed up 48 hours? 13: Do you hate anyone at the moment? 14: Do you miss someone? 15: Have any pets? 16: How exactly are you feeling at the moment? 17: Ever made out in the bathroom? 18: Are you scared of spiders? 19: Would you go back in time if you were given the chance? 20: Where was the last place you snogged someone? 21: What are your plans for this weekend? 22: Do you want to have kids? How many? 23: Do you have piercings? How many? 24: What is/are/were your best subject(s)? 25: Do you miss anyone from your past? 26: What are you craving right now? 27: Have you ever broken someone’s heart? 28: Have you ever been cheated on? 29: Have you made a boyfriend/girlfriend cry? 30: What’s irritating you right now? 31: Does somebody love you? 32: What is your favourite color? 33: Do you have trust issues? 34: Who/what was your last dream about? 35: Who was the last person you cried in front of? 36: Do you give out second chances too easily? 37: Is it easier to forgive or forget? 38: Is this year the best year of your life? 39: How old were you when you had your first kiss? 40: Have you ever walked outside completely naked? 51: Favourite food? 52: Do you believe everything happens for a reason? 53: What is the last thing you did before you went to bed last night? 54: Is cheating ever okay? 55: Are you mean? 56: How many people have you fist fought? 57: Do you believe in true love? 58: Favourite weather? 59: Do you like the snow? 60: Do you wanna get married? 61: Is it cute when a boy/girl calls you baby? 62: What makes you happy? 63: Would you change your name? 64: Would it be hard to kiss the last person you kissed? 65: Your best friend of the opposite sex likes you, what do you do? 66: Do you have a friend of the opposite sex who you can act your complete self around? 67: Who was the last person of the opposite sex you talked to? 68: Who’s the last person you had a deep conversation with? 69: Do you believe in soulmates? 70: Is there anyone you would die for?

[genderkoolaid]

i brought up the term enban/enben to someone who said they felt enby was infantilising, and someone else (also nonbinary) commented in response "sometimes i feel like folks just get off on having their own secret codes" and that they wouldnt know what it meant if someone said it to them without an explanation

like a. wtf??? and b. i don't think its that hard to figure out what it means? its just the start of enby + the ending of man/woman

Yeah unfortunately that's a reaction a lot of people have to nonbinary neologisms.

And like. I do understand it somewhat. But I honestly can't help but feel that part of people's resistance to new nonbinary-specific terms is exorsexism. Like... yeah. You won't know it what it means until someone explains because it was just invented. Every single word relating to nonbinary people that we have invented, we have at some point had to explain. To say that a neologism is bad because it's not immediately fully intuitive to you with zero explanation is like. Yeah friend! That's how making new words works! Especially when the word is trying to describe something who's existence has been completely excluded from our culture for the past forever!

I do understand people who personally dislike using enby (I'm not big on using it for myself either, I prefer enban), but I think people will very uncritically call any given nonbinary term "infantilizing" and say stuff like "just call me a slur instead!!" without realizing where that impulse can come from. It's similar to how anything that becomes associated with women develops a reputation for being stupid and shallow and annoying—people have ingrained biases against nonbinary people, so when something reminds them of nonbinary people, they feel an aversion towards it.

People will come up with every single possible reason why every possible neologism won't work (too long, too short, too latin, too germanic, too cringe, too boring) and the end result is that nonbinary language never is able to move forward. Our language will always require explanation and seen abnormal as long as we do not popularize their use, and in order to popularize their use we have to get over our aversion to our own language.

It's not about wanting to be special or "having secret codes," it's about having the basic linguistic visibility that binary people already have. It's about being able to discuss ourselves and each other with ease and clarity and specificity. If you are fine just being called a "person" and using pre-existing gender neutral language for yourself, that's fine. But we deserve so much better than binary people's linguistic scraps. And that means we have to confront what it looks and sounds like to not just casually gender neutral but actively, blatantly outside of the binary in a way that makes people confused or uncomfortable.

[car-o-line]

Hii!! I was wonderinh if you could do Platonic!Doey(Matthew,Kevin and Jack) x Reader who is dyslexic, Its okay if not :].

oh lord yall I just realized I haven’t been posting in a hot minute- anyway! Dw anon you have picked the most dyslexic person the request this to since I have dyslexia💔💔🥀🥀

ok before anything if u don’t know what dyslexia is just click on this -> dyslexia website yippee

Doey(souls) with a reader that has dyslexia📖❌

He’s very “hehe” about it, but like on a good day if that makes sense??

Like, yall in Safe Haven bc you(ur the player) needed a rest and Poppy needs to open that flappy thing on her face to express her opinion for 6 minutes straight, and when she’s done all that comes out of your mouth is,

“Safe Heavens pretty nice compared to everywhere else huh?”

“Safe what?”

On a good day, he’d be like “hehehaha you said heaven not haven”, and on a day where he’s just not in the mood for mistakes he’d internally sigh(Matthew) or make a sly remark(Kevin).

Though after a few mess ups like that, aka reading signs incorrectly, spelling words on the wall REALLY wrong while drawing with the smaller toys, and writing bad as dab and poppy as qopqy, he began to wonder.

Personally, I don’t think Matthew knows wtf dyslexia is because basing on what the orphans learned in during school time it was NOT coming close to any disorders or how different people read/learn.

So building up the courage he eventually found it in himself to ask you about it.

“Heya, there pal.. I’ve been, uhm noticing things recently with your reading and some writing. I was just wondering, if uh, you’ve been stressed about the whole situation going on with the prototype and that’s why-”

“Dyslexia😐”

“What?”

“It’s called dyslexia, Doey.”

He confronts you about it like you don’t know yourself😔

But since you’re the sweetest person alive you so graciously explain to him, and I mean that in the most vague way possible.

“It’s like…uh, people who have trouble reading, or reading aloud. Oh and spelling, spelling’s hard and weird.”

“How is it weird?”

“IT JUST IS.”

After that he leaves you alone on the topic for the most part, only subtlety guiding you towards the right direction when you need help writing or spelling.

He doesn’t want you to feel bad about it though! He thinks that you’re smarter than most due to your will to overcome and stay in line with other people your age for the subject.

Matthew cares the most, he’s curious on how your brain pictures letters and how they’re written or spoken. But most of the time he doesn’t ask his thoughts aloud. He’s afraid that you’d be too embarrassed or ashamed to answer him with full honesty. He tries his best to quietly show you that he doesn’t mind or care about it, but honestly it just kinda looks like he’s pitying you and it just makes your face go from 🤨 to 😑.

Kevin cares, uh, in a completely different way than Matthew does. He doesn’t bother asking questions on anything and doesn’t even bother asking what dyslexia means. The only thing he cares about is that he can read faster than you and can call you a slow reader or a bad speller. Now he himself can say those things straight to your face you know? Butttttttt if he ever hears you say that about yourself or someone else says it to you, he’ll go cuckoo for coco puffs ykyk-?

Jack thinks of you no different, like, “oh you can’t read that good? That’s okay I can teach you!” “You don’t know why your mind messes up your p and q’s? That’s fine let’s write them a lot together!” Probably can’t even pronounce the word correctly to begin with either. But even though he can’t bring himself to think deeply about it, he still randomly asks you questions about it. Though they’re all just simple ones, nothing too deep.

[did-sm1-say-catfish]

ive decided if no one is going to make my guilty pleasure, imma have to do it myself. sighs… here are some headcanons about dating robert chase… (in no specific order)

(side note: someone has probably already done this, but its always fem/girl reader and im tired of that)

First off, hes always late to fucking everything even tho he tries soooo desperately to be on time :( doctor duties

once yall get serious n he spends majority time at your place, the team finds out and breaks in. They grill you on your relationship and like. its the shovel talk. Youre very confused.

hes always really hot (temp wise and otherwise) so hes not a big fan of cuddling. but!! Theres a solution!! He starfishes and turns the fan up to 100 while u lay underneath him and cuddle like an octopus. (Sorry people who run hot this is for the cold people. aka me)

he’s really reluctant to date again after the whole cameron leaving bcz of the dibala thing, so at first it was really hard to gain his trust. Like a shy shelter kitten. but he eventually warmed up, even if u still feel that he’s keeping something heavy to himself.

he loves baking, so during the holidays yall make and decorate cookies together. You suggest he takes some to work, but he says something about his coworkers being assholes and not deserving it, especially his boss. Whatever that means.

he’s also reluctant to share much about his job. Youve been to the ppth hospital once, before you knew him, for like a broken finger or smth; since you started dating you havent been to his work once, even if he’s been to yours once or twice.

He had short hair when yall started dating, but you found a few pictures of his longer hair and begged him to grow it out again. He obliged and its so beautiful again.

One sunday after an especially hard case at work he asks if you want to go to church with him. He explains its not really all that important, and you dont have to if you dont want to, but you grab his hand and reassure him that you will. and you do. You dont know exactly what solace he finds but youre glad he asked you to come with him to find it.

he always gets so mad at medical inaccuracies in the shows you watch (canon doctor event)

he lays his head in your lap lets u just admire him and run ur fingers thru his hair

every once in a while you’ll be having a conversation and youll say something and he just makes this face. And he just sits there for a moment. And then he rushes out of the apartment to go save someones life or something. By now when he makes that face u just grab his coat and kiss him on the cheek.

some days he just gets sad and starts crying (the crying is usually after a few drinks). You dont know why but you comfort him nonetheless.

you beg him to adopt a cat with you and this is when he realizes its serious. He withdraws a bit. Asks you really weird questions about the morality of the death penalty and genocide. you answer honestly. You dont know exactly what happened but you have an idea. You ponder a bit but eventually settle on telling him that you trust him to do the right thing. that night he cries a little while you cuddle. You comfort him as best you can. in the morning you reiterate that you trust him to do the right thing. he smiles. Then he asks if you still want that cat. you do. You adopt a little white fluffball who screeches like the devil when she doesnt get food.

Okay thats it for now. This post was powered by pure rage towards the fact that there practically no robert chase x male reader fics out there. So these headcanons are specifically robert chase x me. And you too ig.

[huffelpuff210]

You belong to me now

Dark Mob boss Bucky Barnes x OC Reader

Summary: Regin is Peter's Best friend what happens when Bucky and Steve get a glimpse of you for the first time, Bucky is the most feared boss in the entire country, and what ever he wants he gets, and he wants you.

Notes: Regin and Peter around around nineteen

Warnings: Age gap, forced relationship, forced marriage, violence, obsession, possessiveness.

If Peter wasn't my best friend right about now I would kill him. After my double shift at the hospital, He knocked on my door. Yeah we also live next door to each other, about a week ago he asked me on some advice on how to not show emotion, how to be hard as nails like me...

You see I show little emotion when it comes to people, I barely let my guard down, its how I survived living with my father until I moved out of course. But I don't take too much crap from anyone anymore,

But He asked me, So I did explain to him that the key is to keep your expression the same, that it is sort of like poker, you don't want your opponent to know what you are thinking, if they do then the game is up, 

He nodded agreeing, I did ask him why he wanted to know, He told me he applied for a job as one of the men in Barnes's crew, Even though I wanted to tell him that it was a bad Idea, I supported him, 

Now two weeks later, He needed my cooking skills so to speak, cooking my ass off because he was having dinner with his new boss and his bosses right hand man..

So here I am after shift cooking my famous lasagna, in dark jeans, that hugged my ass a little too well, a flannel and a pair of white tennis shoes. 

"Parker where in the hell do you keep the parsley?" I asked rummaging through the cabinets I am on my toes as I look though the top cabinet, I see a gun, 

"Seriously a gun but no spices?" 

He chuckles entering the room, 

"Mr Barnes says to keep one in close proximity of every room." He says 

"Peter don't call him Mr. Barnes you sound like a teenager." I say as he hands me the spice

"He said not to refer to him by his first name, since were not on a first name basis." He says 

"Then call him boss." I say sprinkling the spice 

"Oh I guess that does work." He says with a chuckle 

I roll my eyes, 

"Honestly how do you even survive without me?' I say in a blank tone, Peter is used to my tone most people take it as offensive or me being a bitch but that is just how I am, 

"I really don't know at this point." He says rubbing the back of his neck, 

"So my tips helped you get the job want more advice about tonight?" I asked putting the dish in the oven, 

"Yes." He says 

"First off stand straight, you are slouching," I say narrowing my eyes at him he straightened up, 

"No talking with your mouth full," I say 

"And go shower and change into something presentable you look like a hobo. and smell like one." I say 

"Yes ma'am." He says with a sarcastic salute, 

"You look like one too." He remarked 

I smirked 

"I'm not the one having a business dinner to impress my new boss now am I?" I say crossing my arms and narrowing my eyes at him

"touché" He says 

"I won't be long." He says walking away 

"And don't douse yourself in Cologne!" I yell 

I pinch the bridge of my nose turning around, bending over to examine the food from outside of the oven, 

                                      Bucky POV 

Me and Steve enter the home of Parker, the kid means well but he acts like he's thirteen calling me mr Barnes, so Steve suggested dinner with the kid just to see how things go. 

We hear talking, 

"Mr Barnes says to keep one in close proximity of every room." We hear Peter  say

"Peter don't call him Mr. Barnes you sound like a teenager." we hear a female voice 

I swear if it's his mother I'm out..

"He said not to refer to him by his first name, since were not on a first name basis." He says 

"Then call him boss." we hear

We look at each other, I like this person already, We peek around the corner not making ourselves known, it was a woman about Peter's age, She had her dark hair in a messy bun, She looked to be about 5'4 maybe 5'3, she had piercing green eyes, she wore dark jeans, a dark red and blue flannel with a grey shirt underneath, 

She was breath taking, 

"Oh I guess that does work." He says with a chuckle 

she rolled her eyes, 

"Honestly how do you even survive without me?' she say in a blank tone, I smirked 

"I really don't know at this point." He says rubbing the back of his neck,

"So my tips helped you get the job want more advice about tonight?" she asked putting the dish in the oven, 

Me and Steve exchange looks, I smirked watching the exchange 

"Yes." He says 

"First off stand straight, you are slouching," she says narrowing her eyes at him he straightened up, 

"I like her." Steve mouthed I nodded 

"No talking with your mouth full," she says

"And go shower and change into something presentable you look like a hobo. and smell like one." she says

"Yes ma'am." He says with a sarcastic salute, 

"You look like one too." He remarked 

she smirked 

"I'm not the one having a business dinner to impress my new boss now am I?" she says crossing her arms and narrowing her eyes at him

"touché" He says 

"I won't be long." He says walking away 

"And don't douse yourself in Cologne!" she yells

she pinches the bridge of her nose turning around, bending over to examine the food from outside of the oven, and I get a nice view of her nicely shaped ass. Now I'm not much into younger women, But this one... this one I like.

I clear my throat. 

She looks over her shoulder with a bored look, 

"One minute." She says 

We both were a bit confused most people cower at the sight of us, 

She pulls the dish out of the oven taking it over to the table placing it in the middle straightening the dish, 

"Buy my estimate you two must be Barnes and Rogers." She says 

I hold out my hand, 

She takes it, 

"Please call me James or Bucky, and this is my right hand Steve." I say 

She shakes my hand then Steve's 

"Regin, Nice to meet you, I'll go fetch him for you." She says walking away without another word, 

"Oh I really like her." Steve says 

I chuckled 

"She's mine pal." I say with a smirk

[luxiomahariel]

was just reading your pinned, hope this is okay to send:

when I first learned about radqueers/transID I went googling. I was very sceptical but I try to keep an open mind so I didn't want to dismiss anything outright without reading.

As I was scrolling the wiki list I was getting more and more thrown by the audacity, but the thing that really made my eyes bug out was when I saw that transabled was one of the more common ones, but it was NOT at all accepted for a disabled person to ID with an abled body (or differently disabled body).

I was like oh so this is like a special club for abled people, and not even something disabled people might be using as some kind of coping mechanism... okay...

I'm a system, so I thought maybe most of the people using these kinds of labels would be plural in some way, and this is how they explain differences between alters? But I haven't really seen this brought up in most of the places that I looked, so I guess it's probably not the majority. Fuckin wild.

yeah there is.... so much shit going on in the radqueer community that its hard to even fully cover it all

[dcdreamblog]

I know I’ve already got an ask in the queue, so just getting this one in before I forget…

What’s up with the change in Doctor Fate’s helmet? All of a sudden he’s wearing a half helmet and socking bad guys like some regular flying brick instead of doing fancy magic, and then just as suddenly, he’s back to the full helmet and ankh effects.

Point of order if having more than one ask in the queue at any one time was against the rules I could have @krinsbez shot at dawn by now.

Anyway.

(An image of Kent Nelson wearing his "half helmet" in a war time propaganda comic circa 1941)

To explain it we need to understand the main "tools" that Dr. Fate uses to conduct his work. Like many mages, Kent Nelson does not hold a purely academic level of arcane knowledge. Arcana of that nature is esoteric and hard to conduct bare handed, there's a reason most wizards in history used tools like wands or orbs. In Nelson's case he wielded.

The Cloak of Destiny: Chiefly a protective garment, able to shield the wearer from earthly and magical attacks

The Amulet of Anubis: A multifaceted item that can enhance a magician's strength, produce a small list of basic spells by itself and even store items, people or souls within it.

And, most importantly.

The Helmet of Fate: Containing the soul and mind of the ancient wizard Nabu, empowered by the occult and cosmic spirits known as the Lords of Order. Wearing the Helm not only allows the wielder to communicate with Nabu for advice and guidance it also grants access to the power he had in life as well as the power of the Lords of Order.

The problem lies with that 3rd item. The Helmet of Nabu cannot be overstated in its importance. In the magical community (thank you Gwen, as always <3...not sure why you needed me to prick my finger on a cactus fruit for this research but you were helpful as always), the Helmet is considered THE most powerful artifact that currently exists in human hands. To bear the helm makes one not just AN Arch Magus but THE Arch Magus, responsible for the protection of all mankind from the threats beyond this realm, the holder of the mantle of Dr. Fate.

The problem is that the helmet's 'inhabitant' and its 'suppliers' do not always have humanity's true best interest at heart and certainly not always the interests of the helmet's wearer.

Nabu is...well he's a sorcerer from the mid Bronze Age. His understanding of justice and protection is that he, as a man who "understands" such things should impose his rules and protection upon those beneath him. It's not really a problem if he's stopping someone from getting crushed by a dragon's toenail but one can imagine it causes personality clashes when more contentions moral or political topics are in play.

And the Lords of Order are, as I have been warned, not Lords of JUSTICE, not Lords of LIGHT. They are Lords of ORDER. And any one of you that has read a slightly complex fantasy story can pick out the issues in that. When the forces of Chaos are mostly made up of demons and imps trying to cause death and suffering for the sake of returning the world to an era of barbarous bloodletting opposing them is almost always the right call but the Lords of Order are not above trying to impose their vision of "Order" upon the human race at large.

Kent Nelson was NOT a millennia old Arch Mage, but he was a man of unshakable responsibility and unbroken moral principle. When Nabu and the Lords of Order began to push him, attempting to manipulate him, attempting to overtake his actions or his will through their mystical might. he did the only thing that was available to him...he took the helmet off.

For the majority of the war, in fact, Nelson wore the helmet as little as possible. Wearing a "regular" half helmet (we have some of them here at the Perisphere, they're adequately machined but not exactly antiques, depending on which helmet it is you can see the seams rather clearly). And getting by with the powers granted to him by the Cloak, the Amulet and what mystical knowledge her could apply in the heat of battle. He could fly, he could increase his own strength, he could shoot beams from the amulet. For 99% of problems it was perfectly workable, if all he had ever had was the cloak and the amulet no one would have questioned Dr. Fate as a hero of his era.

Some situations did indeed call for wearing the Helm, when a more intensive form of mystical power was required but because of Nelson's reluctance and resistance to Nabu's influence over time their relationship became more and more strained, and Nabu's attempt to assert his will when Nelson donned the helmet became more and more forceful, increasing Nelson's reluctance to wear the Helm.

When the Keane Act disbanded the Justice Society, one can only imagine that Nelson was all too ready to place the helm upon its stand and lock it away in the dark for a few decades.

[liedownquisition]

Ah I see, so you just... don't actually understand that the way you phrase things imply things. Cool. Got it. That explains your own difficulty understanding the text, got it.

Also, no you're not really explaining it, and even if you were no one was asking for that "explanation" in the first place. Read the first post again, you'll notice the operative phrase "a lot of people" and this is specifically directed at things like people who complain/hate on Jason Todd, while adoring other characters who share a lot of significant themes, personality characteristics, and concepts with him.

It also, most 100% definitely says that that dislike is valid? But this is about people and things that complain about Jason for things that are DEFINITELY prevalent also in the characters that they do "stan." Such as Batman, or Huntress, and so on and so forth. It's kind of like this:

Where people prop up their character for doing the same things, which funny thing is usually more common with female characters on the negative end of it so this is a somewhat interesting, if still exhausting, subversion of a very boring and repetitive issue.

Anyways you also missed the part where we both agreed that Jason was an extension of the same philosophy - yes, that even includes the fascist portions. (Bitter even Literally Also Called Jason Fascist). A vast majority of the superhero fantasy at its core cannot exist without some degrees of it, particularly once it starts expanding into the kind of universe DC currently has. Come on, the watchtower? Brother Eye? Are these not sparking red flags in your mind? And who, exactly, is responsible for them?

Batman.

Also, Batman has been called fascist multiple times even in-canon and spin-off properties. Usually by Green Arrow, or in that Blue Beetle movie. They're not wrong, but no one takes Green Arrow seriously about it and the Blue Beetle line was framed as a joke for the audience to laugh at.

-He asked Bruce why he wouldn't, and when Bruce gave his answer he... "accepted" it and asked him to stand by and let him do it himself. If you wanted to illustrate the point of Jason asking Bruce to kill the Joker, maybe you should have picked the pages right before this where he was going on, at length, about the reasons WHY Bruce should have? Instead of the one where he literally said "Fine, I'll do it"? The page that literally says, twice, "You won't kill him, I will." And even then, that speech was less asking him to do it and more condemning him for his choices.

He didn't say "Don't" he said "Won't" the time is long since past for Bruce to be the one to pull that trigger. If he was trying to get Bruce to kill Joker, he didn't try very hard.

-That's fine not to reread, but you're clearly not remembering a lot of it or went into it with such a biased perspective you weren't paying attention (which, you know, it's a bad comic I can't entirely blame people from missing things. But again, at least hate things accurately?). Kori had more character and development than Roy did, actually. At least in the parts Lobdell wrote. I still haven't decided how to classify Tynion's portion of that mess. It gives me a headache.

-I never said Jason was a better Batman, I said that his ideals of "wanting to be a better Batman" means that his ultimate motivation is just an extremist version of Bruce's own. Once again: that means that if Batman is a fascist, then so is Jason. Albeit one that operates outside the overarching fascist system Bruce aligns with and attempts to build his own, equally flawed system

-Do you realize how many poor people literally kill themselves to get out of medical debt because they cannot find work and see themselves as just burdens to themselves and sometimes their families? Do you know how common it is for people to realize they need expensive medical care and ask their families to let them die instead for the same reason and how that's not really that far off from killing yourself for it? Do you even understand how much poor people who can't afford insurance just don't go to the hospital and die of preventable/fixable things because they're afraid of medical bills? Have you been paying no attention whatsoever to how even with insurance it's a huge issue to not get medical care because it gets denied and would be too expensive without it which is a RELEVANT and RECENT topic of concern?

It's still a death, it's just one that you can pretend didn't spiral from the initial incident. Slow, and agonizing, and you're going to suffer and know what caused it the whole way while Batman remains blissfully ignorant of his responsibility in your suffering.

And, with regards to your tags: Hi! Not only Have I been affected by organized crime, My family was part of, and torn apart by it. Speaking of putting words in our mouths, when did we say it was okay for him to kill "bad poor people"? We didn't. And Bruce Beating and Throwing "bad poor people" in jail doesn't help their families either! I've said it before but if Bruce was paying attention to the families of the criminals he & the system he supports put in jail and doing anything about it, chances are Jason wouldn't have ended up homeless in the first place!

"It's okay to prey on addicts as long as they're not kids" we ALSO didn't say that but do you know what happens when you cut addicts off cold turkey? I've known people who were in so much pain from the cravings that they were tearing out their hair and chunks of their scalp and digging their nails into their arms so hard they bled. I have known people who had seizures during withdrawals and hit their head going down and died because no one knew it was happening. I have known people who got arrested and thrown in jail and died in their cells because they were left to go through the withdrawals with no assistance.

Cutting the drug lines entirely isn't the answer, either. Preventing them from getting more kids hooked on drugs is the bare minimum. It's not an endpoint, it's a beginning.

To be honest I think that a lot of people who share the anti Jason Todd sentiment don't even actually hate Jason. I think a lot of them hate what he forces the narrative to do.

Jason forces the subversion of the hero genre -- he's the single, most extreme proof that Batman's hero fantasy wouldn't be effective in real life, and therefore Jason showing up can take you out of the universe really fast really hard. A lot of people are here for what comics are meant to offer, the one man hero fantasy that makes you Feel Good, and Jason showing up doesn't Allow you to enjoy it! And if that's the case, you're completely justified in not liking Jason, he takes you out of the thing you enjoy.

I think a lot of you don't actually find his personality or acts annoying in of themselves, you just hate what those actions do to the genre itself. And I think once you realize that and start looking at comics like actual pieces of literature, Jason and shitty comics both will become a lot less rage inducing to you.

[konckalicious]

me when the feel sad and scared about everything disease is making me feel sad and scared again

cw for sombre thoughts in tags i might delete later tho xwx

[findafight]

Robin chose Steve. Robin made the conscious and deliberate decision that she could and would trust Steve. She already liked him! She had fun working and bantering with him! They were already on their way to being weird little bffs and the torture just expedited the process. Steve chose Robin just the same! He thinks she's fun and cool and likes her so much! He chose to be honest and open with her too, putting himself out there.

Even though their interests on the surface level don't match why wouldn't they share them? Steve clearly caves when Robin wants to watch a movie he doesn't think he'll like, Robin can watch a March madness game or five.

Stop trying to take away their bond oh my god people can be close to more than one person!!! Their best friend doesn't have to be dismissive or mean or whatever in order for a romance to be special to them!

[deoidesign]

ok I've been teasing about this comic a long time if you're interested you can save the page!

[twentyfivemiceinatrenchcoat]

I’ve never felt quite as vindicated as I do whenever you tear a strip of off fanon Gojo. It’s so bizarre to watch an already tragic character be purposefully misconstrued because he’s not tragic in the way they’d like him to be.

LITERALLLYYYYYYYY thank you anon …… i’m very happy that we’re in this together. it’s insufferable!!!!!! frankly!!!!!!!!!!!!! gojo is already plenty tragic without them forcing feelings onto him that he simply doesn’t carry -_- ……. and then they use that misconception as a leeway into criticizing other characters, calling them ooc, and acting like gojo’s ending was just so terribly sad for him when it very much wasn’t in his own eyes. the kids are okay, their society is improving slowly but surely and the burden is no longer falling on the youth — he gets to be with his best friend again, the one he’s longed for. not only that, but he was recognized as a human being and dismantled of his title as the strongest by sukuna before he passed on. and yuji, in some sense of the word, taught sukuna about love in his place. (he surpassed him, some might say <3 ……… which is what he wished for more than Anything.)

gojo is a very tragic character but his tragedy mainly lies in the fact that he accepts the conditions of his own life and deals with it all quietly, without complaint. from his isolation, to his sleep schedule, to his body being violated. he makes the best of it. he rolls with the punches. it’s sad because he doesn’t find it sad. it’s tragic because he wouldn’t call his life a tragedy, he’d go ”well, i managed to make megumi laugh at the end there, so isn’t it fine?” and smile.

[scribz-ag24]

thinking about how se0 had dusknoir live a horrifying period of time where he sinks so deep into thr darkness he almost loses himself, so the player can feel and understand his determination to keep his life no matter how hopeless his future is. his life is finally HIS, and he's not giving it away again. and it's only the first step in his journey because by the end of se5 he learns his life doesnt have to keep on going on a literal sense, that letting your actions impact others' future is another way of making your life matter thanks to YOUR own choices.

[st4rstudent]

i'll bring these out to the public actually

[reel-fear]

Genuinely so curious who Mike thinks is gonna be buying The Cage or the new DCTL GN bc with the way he tweets as far as he's concerned, it's not gonna be:

The queer people he has actively admitted he will never show any representation of in the games.

2. The POC he has actively fought against representing in his franchise. [Who he also mocked for thinking they would be represented in his franchise]

3. The Bendy fandom which has always been concerned with topics of diversity esp in the sense of queer people since its creation. Who he has responded to really poorly esp in regards to the GN.

4. The fans who critique him. [He blocked me for doing so lol]

5. His fans in general who he tweets about like this currently. [He's being vague about why people were mad at him or sent him 'nasty messages' because if you actually looked into why you'd see he was in the wrong. Either way, a very hateful way to speak abt ur own fanbase.]

Reminder while Mike is trash talking his fans he has always treated them rather poorly. The fans who won the fanart contest for Chapter 5 never got their posters actually in game due to it being rushed. Not only was chapter 5 a big slap to the face story wise, but it was literally so rushed he couldn't be bothered to add in the art his fans gave him for his game FOR FREE. [Meatly blames this on a crazy timeline, reminder him and Mike are the literal ceos of this company. The proposal of future updates here is also pretty cruel considering Mike nowadays happily admits he corrupted Chapter 5's source code and therefore literally can't update it At All currently. Because he is a moron]

At least they got to be in Boris and the dark survival, and by that I mean that was the Only game they got to be in so far, isn't that just treating your fans like you love them? Shoving their hard work into a spin off game almost nobody has played or addresses much. [Hell, who knows if with the Lone Wolf rebrand they'll even stay there. In which case they'll be in None of the games, only in the credits of BATIM]

6. The Bendy fans who just generally disagree with him on stuff. Like the new ink demon design where there is literally a public poll showing people generally prefer the old one.

7. The Bendy fans who can see he is actively lying to them. To their fucking faces.

He says this has always been the case, but screenshots and links to tweets regarding the books being canon prove it was not. Does he really think bendy fans are stupid or something? [Unless he's admitting here he lied to Kress when he told her the books were canon which sounds worse!]

8. Anyone who doesn't like the idea of giving money to a guy who laid off tons of employees then afterwards thought it was a great idea to express his anti-union views! Also brag about how good of an employer he was, according to his employees, he was not!

So in summary; Mike is an awful person who has not learned anything from the awful things he did. I will not be purchasing The Cage because, combined with this and his absolute refusal to take any kind of critique or see any differing interpretation of his franchise, I have no reason to think my problems with the franchise will ever be addressed or fixed. I probably will pirate The Cage along with any future Bendy Products [Including the movie] and will do my best to avoid giving it any kind of monetary support. Unless this changes any time soon, I can't see myself making anymore positive Bendy posts soon.

Mike has just managed to make it so hard to speak positively or optimistically of this franchise when he's so willing to broadcast how little he cares about it or its fans. I'm at the point where I refuse to pull any of my punches with my problems with it. What's the point of trying to play nice with my critique when either way the people creating it don't care?

So with this post, I want to invite anyone who feels similarly about the franchise to tell me, make a post or send an ask talking about how all of this makes you feel. It may not change how things are, but genuinely seeing other people share my feelings of anger makes me feel better. It feels nice to see when other people share our same concerns and worries. I'd also love to know if anyone else thinks they'll be avoiding purchasing Bendy products over this.

I'm not forcing anyone to participate in it nor trying to say anyone who doesn't supports mike but genuinely maybe if we can collectively decide to boycott things like the movie, graphic novel and The Cage... It might at least make the bendy devs acknowledge how much they have destroyed their own fandom's faith and trust in them.

The way Mike tweets about his actions like he had no control over why people were mad at him at least proves to me he takes NONE of it back nor regrets it. If you didn't know about his actions and only went off his tweets, you would be led to believe Mike has been needlessly picked apart by fans over things he couldn't control [or in his own words, had his words twisted and taken out of context]. That is not how you speak about your actions if you have actually learned better from them.

anyway, that has been my bendy dev callout post. This is an open invitation to anyone feeling similarly upset about the way the franchise is going to talk about it. It's genuinely nice to see how people feel about this and the more we talk about the more it's likely the bendy devs are forced to address our concerns. I don't think they will but hey, that's why I'm not gonna support them with my money anymore nor am I gonna be nice to them in any content I make critiquing Bendy. I mean I'm also basically making this post just in case anyone asks me Why I feel this way towards to bendy devs/as a way to respond to anyone who thinks I am too harsh in my critique in the future.

As always, it seems the best part of Bendy isn't actually anything about canon but about what the fan's are creating with the ideas Bendy failed to do anything interesting with.

Also the books, the books slap.