#while not (thinking of themselves as) being... the best people

[halogenwarrior]

Agreed with nuance. I love these types of arcs sometimes but I think whether the redemption or self-sacrificial hero dying is bad writing or not really depends a lot on the context of the particular character. While most people seem to hate "redemption deaths" no matter the context, I hate them when the clear narrative motivation behind them is that the character doesn't deserve to live or it would be more complicated if they lived and they don't want to deal with that narrative, especially of the character themselves thinks they don't deserve to live and the narrative agrees with them by presenting their death as heartwarming and a fitting end/the best end a character could have after what they did (and unfortunately this is most of them in fiction). And especially if the thing they are atoning for really has nothing to do with any kind of selfishness or cowardice and in fact they were the "loyal to a cause above their own lives" type even pre-redemption. However I think it can work when their arc is about being selfish or cowardly, not being willing to give up even a little happiness or power or money for other people (and importantly in no way thinks they deserve death even when they atone), in which case giving up their very life can be the most impactful thing they could narratively do to show how they've changed. Or when they very much want to live but it's not the redemption that kills them but a "tragic hero" arc where the consequences of their flaws and mistakes do them in in a way that's presented as cathartic but not fundamentally deserved and they are able to have some realization of their wrongdoing/attempt to do good on the inevitable way out. Or if they are suicidal and think they deserve death but the narrative doesn't agree with them and their death when it happens is framed as tragically unnecessary rather than agreeing that it's a fitting ending. But I feel like this nuance gets lost with the "redemption deaths are bad no matter what" takes you usually see on this website.

And likewise with the self-sacrificial hero version, I sometimes love the trope of them living I'm a sucker for a good story about a suicidal character finding through hard struggle a reason to live, but if it's done wrong it can come across as protagonist-centric morality; if the character doesn't come off as suicidal but just doing the rational utilitarian thing in valuing a few or many others over their own life, but the narrative keeps criticizing them for that because don't they know they are the main character, so their life is more important than all of those NPCs? Especially if lots of other characters die including self-sacrifices in the story without being saved and it's only the main character who gets spared like this. While finding some contrived way to let said "NPCs" live anyway so they don't have to actually deal with the moral implications in implying the protagonist's life is more important than everyone else's.

Edit: so I think the best ways to pull off the "self-sacrificial hero learns to be less like that and lives" version is either to show the character's suicidal motivation distorts their judgments making them jump to martyrdom when they would objectively be able to do more good alive even if it's not as flashy and romantic (as opposed to self-sacrificing being the entirely rational choice every time), or show that the same attitude that leads to wanting to sacrifice themselves leaves to distortion of judgment in other ways (other kinds of self-effacing, or alternatively distancing themselves from others and having a sense of superiority as the self-sacrificing hero and devaluing others' lives for their goal as well, for example), or even both.

i love when characters don't get to die

[elliescoquettegirl]

Papercuts

ellie williams x fem reader

────────────────────── starting university you thought would fulfill you, the empty void inside you. that changing your whole life would solve your problems. it didn't, it actually made it worse. now you were completely alone, in a place far away from home and everything you once knew. you started working at a bar to fill your empty weekends. that's when you met ellie, your coworker and also someone that studied a year above you. would she perhaps help you fill this void of loneliness and uncertainty of yourself and your future? contains smut! mdni!

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Prologue: Series Next chapter:

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You thought starting university would somehow fill this void inside you. But it didn't. You're even more unsure of yourself and stuck in your own head. Away from your family and friends, in a city you've never been in before. You thought making friends would be easy, but everything feels like a wall around you slowly moving closer, trapping you there. Literature, films and stories of older generations painted it to be one of the best years of your life. Getting in felt good, even if applying there was done on a whim. You were drunk at a bar with your friends when you accepted it. Hearing whispers of something better ahead as you clicked accept.

People in class are passionate about their studies, already having a plan after getting their degree, while you're there planning the next day, hoping to survive. Everyone is so talkative, already hanging out during their free time. Talking about the crazy bar nights they've had during the weekend, when what you've done is just lay in bed. You did join them sometimes, you could tell they wanted to know you but when you were out, everything felt robotic. You laughed when they laughed even if you didn't find something funny. The conversations always ending up being background noise, you'd just nod to make them think you were listening. Your anxiety constantly hanging in the air — thick, inescapable and you breathed it in. Their way of speaking, always signaling how sure of themselves they were. Although there was a possibility of it being a fasade, it didn't stop the insecurity from sinking in.

You got a job at a bar just so you could occupy your weekends with something. The bar was perfect, far away from campus so there would be little to no chance of you running into familiar faces. The thought of having to make small talk, while being stuck there with a classmate making something clench deep in your gut. The only familiar face you'd encounter at work being Ellie, that studied a year above you. When you began working there you would usually leave work at the same time that she arrived, only throwing quick glances at each other. The glances evolving into intense eye contact that would last a bit longer than it should. You were always the one to break the eye contact. Each time you would break it by quickly looking away, give an awkward smile and go back to pretending to focus on whatever you were working on. You probably looked dumb half the time, trying to look focused while cutting up a lemon or cleaning up the bar counter, like that takes any effort.

After those small interactions you would always lay in bed thinking about her. The way she moved with such grace. How she charmed everyone around her, instantly pulling people towards her. She was beautiful, breathtaking even. You liked that her eyes were so expressive. She's every sapphics dream. Confident but humble, childish, always fooling around but not in an obnoxious way. The two of you barely spoke, just a casual hi or have a good night. She always had a cigarette tucked between her lips and her hair pulled into in a messy half bun. The tattoo on her arm, that she always left exposed with her rolled up shirt sleeve, you would sometimes by pure instinct start drawing in your journal. A moth. You would rip up the pages and throw it in the trash. Like that would change anything about the fact that she was on your mind too much. Someone you barely knew or hadn't even spoken to.

Last week your boss had approached you, asking if you would consider switching schedules with someone else. So now you have been rescheduled to work closing shifts with her every Sunday. Breathing heavily and your legs aching from pedaling on your bike like your life depended on it as you arrived at the bar. The summer's final warmth, your face damp causing your bangs to stick to your forehead. Before walking in you tried to adjust them, this exact moment being a reminder to not cut your bangs again. You had tried to grow them out for a year, failing every time. In a moment of weakness at three am you'd always end up in front of the bathroom, scissor in hand. When you walked into the bar, Ellie was crunched forward, both elbows resting against the table whilst talking to a regular. Ellie cursed, laughed loud and even hit the customer against their shoulder when they said something funny. You wished you could be that relaxed, instead you would just hand them their drinks and speak kindly. Throwing out thank yous. Sometimes, you tried to make an effort but it just seemed too fake and the customers would notice it too. She tilted her head towards you and when you were close enough for her to finally speak, all she said was the obvious, that you were late. Her voice, gentle and raspy. She wore the usual attire, pants and buttoned up shirt, with rolled up sleeves. You didn't bother replying, knowing you would not be quick enough with coming up with a lie as to why you were late. The truth is why you were late was because you kept fixing your appearance.

The bar was practically empty. Usually during shifts like these all you would do was clean off tables or scroll mindlessly on your phone. You start going around the tables and picking up empty glasses and asking if anyone wants something. Someone ordered a glass of wine and when you went behind the counter you couldn't find it.

“I cant find this bottle of wine, are we all out?” you said.

She was still making conversation with the regular, so she excused herself and started scanning the shelves.

“Did you check the wine fridge?” Ellie asked, with a tone that probably wasn't intentional, but one that made you feel stupid. You shook your head confused since you had never been there, which you also told her. She started walking off, signaling for you to go with her. She had such a distinct walking style, if you had seen her in a crowd of people you would know it was her from an instant. Ellie opened the door to a room with fridges filled with beverages. You let out a small laugh, Ellie played with her hands and looked at you.

“Well I feel stupid now” you said.

“Havent you been working here for weeks?”, she said.

“Yeah but nothings been empty?”, you said a bit annoyed. Your arms crossing over your chest, using them as a shield.

“That explains why I've had to fill the shelves a lot more recently” she mumbled, shaking her head jokingly. It was meant as a joke, but it still left you feeling anxious.

“Oh i’m sorry”, you mumbled back covering your mouth with your hand. She walked towards you, took your hand from your face, cupping it with her hands and reassured you that it's fine. She stood so close now, her facial features even prettier up close. She had a few scars, the eyebrow slit you had seen before, which was hot as fuck but she also had smaller ones across her cheek and one under her other eyebrow. You wondered where they came from, you wish you could ask her. She was also studying your features. The sudden ring of the bell at the counter shattered the tension, ending the silent stare off between you two. She let go of your hand, her eyes widening lightly, surprised at her own doing. She lifted her shoulders and tried to brace herself confidently. She let out a quiet awkward laugh, one you have not heard before, not tonight or all the times you have eavesdropped on conversations she had with regulars or other colleagues. This made you feel more sure of yourself in relation to her, having a glimpse of her vulnerability, even if it was just a hint of insecurity for a second.

The rest of the shift was quiet, not an awkward silence though. Her playlist played low throughout the bar speakers. Ellies hand, still imprinted on yours. When customers left and you began closing the tension in the room shifted quickly. Ellie felt tense and she kept dropping things, looking at you to see if you noticed and you pretended not to. You did not really understand what was going on but suddenly it felt like maybe she was feeling exactly like you were. But perhaps she was tired, it was past midnight after all. You're scrubbing off sticky liquor from a table when Ellie finally breaks the silence.

“Are you doing something tonight?” she said with a low tone, scratching her neck.

You replied with a "no" that sounded too desperate.

“Alright then let's go” she grinned and grabbed her leather jacket from a bar stool. The leatherjacket you had seen her wear once when she passed by you as you were heading home. The jacket looked worn but not by her, from someone else. Still, it sat on her like it was made for her. You tossed the rag into the sink and grabbed your things. You didn't know where you were going but she walked towards her car.

The drive was peaceful. The same playlist again and her humming along to the songs. One hand on the steering wheel and her tattooed arm rested on her thigh. She kept looking over and opening her mouth several times, like she was gonna say something but then decided not to. Eventually she did though.

"So why have you never tried to speak to me?” she asked, with one eyebrow tilted up slightly, teasingly.

“I don't know?” you said with the know drawn out. You knew why but of course you couldn't tell her. She studied you and it felt like she saw through that answer.

Just as you thought that she said “That's not an answer” while lighting a cigarette. This woman was like a goddamn chimney. She always smelt like cigarettes, a smell you usually hated, but on her it was fine. She also smelt like chestnut? Woody? You swore it smelled like this one margiela fragrance you had tried on once.

“I really don't know Ellie” you said with annoyance. The way her name rolled on your tongue felt so right.

Ellie didn't say anything, too focused on parking her car. And perhaps not in the mood to try getting a forced answer out of you — perhaps she already knew.

The bar was dark, echoes of drunk voices everywhere. Why were there so many people drunk on a sunday, you thought. But maybe just like you, they had just finished their shift with their hot coworker that they can't stop thinking about. The thought of that calms you down in some weird way. That everyone else in there, drowned their utter panic from the intimidation of someone else in alcohol just like you were about to. It was crowded and Ellie grabbed your hand as she guided you to the bar counter. It happened too fast, you didn't have time to react or even notice. The bartender recognized her and skipped other people waiting in line, just to take her order. She got you both whiskey neat which was bold of her to assume that is something you drink, but she was right. When you were seated you drank fast, big gulps, throat burning. Touching your hair, adjusting your clothes and looking around anxiously.

Ellie let out a tiny wheeze and said “relax”. You were being so easy to read right now.

You said “I am relaxed”.

Ellie shrugged and kept up to your drinking pace. Three glasses down and conversation suddenly was a lot easier. Not the conversation turning into background, no fake smiles. You could be yourself for the first time in a long time. Your whole body warm, drunk on her and the whiskey. She asked you about why you chose this major, instead of making it a simple answer you started rambling, because you felt comfortable with her, because you were drunk. You spoke about the major and everything else. You talked about how you were kind of regretting it. You told her about your other aspirations, that there were so many choices but only one life and so many opportunities. You spoke about Sylvia Plath's fig tree, how depressing it is that you only get to live so little in such a short time and that every choice you make is so important. How are you supposed to choose just one or a few things? Caught up in your own drunk slurring words, she interrupted you.

“Rather melodramatic aren't you?” she said as she leaned closer to you. Her green eyes pierced into yours. The tone in which she had said it had your thighs burning and her cold hand brushed against it in circular motions until it eventually stayed there. She studied your reaction as her other hand played with her glass. You literally cannot come up with a response, your mind completely blurred and body reacting in such a strong way it's affecting your cognitive function. She stood up, grabbing your hand again, leading you out the door of the bar.

The sound of drunk voices slowly disappearing, the closer you got to her car. She pinned you against it. Her hands, like clockwork, landed instantly on your hips. Her grip was hard, pinching your hipbone, like she was afraid you might run away. She smirked at you and leaned in slowly, her lips crashing into yours. You could taste the cigarette and liquor on her lips. Despite her mouth being filled with smoke at any given moment, her mouth was still damp and her tongue soft, in your mouth. Soft moans in between the wet noises of your lips clashing back and forth, exchanging saliva. You bit her lower lip gently and she whimpered. The kiss was interrupted by loud drunken laughs in the distance. Ellie looked back and then at you again. Her gaze shifting between your lips and eyes. She grabbed the side of your neck and gently rubbed it with her thumb. Her body, still pinned tightly against you. You were scared she could feel your pulsating clit through your two layers of fabric — which of course wasn't possible.

She opened the door to the backseat of her car and pushed you, getting on top of you. The kiss and the touching all felt so desperate. You had been yearning for this and so had Ellie. Her hands were moving everywhere frantically, going up and down your ribs, stroking over your breast. Your hands traveling up and down her back, grabbing her hair and stroking her jaw with your thumb. She stroked circles on your inner thigh while placing kisses down your jaw. The air in the car is humid, your bodies sweaty. Ellie took off your shirt and pants desperately and the sight of you in only your lingerie made her clit pulsate and her already damp underwear even more soaked. You were delusional enough that you had put on your sluttiest underwear, daydreaming of the possibility of her undressing you tonight — after all maybe you weren't delusional when you made that move. She took off your bra. Placing kisses on your breast, cupping the other with her hand, pinching your nipple. Soft moans escaping your mouth. She made soft hums with her raspy voice, you could literally come right there on the spot. You were high on the arousal, her hand drowsily moving towards your aching pussy. Your hips working their way towards her hand.

“So impatient” she murmured into your breasts leaning in to kiss you.

“Oh shut up”, was the only thing you could come up with as a response.

You unbuttoned her pants which made her gasp into your mouth. She slid down your panties, caressing your slick warmth with tenderness.

She moaned out “So wet for me already?” in between your kisses. Ellie was wet too and you both in sync started rubbing each others clit. The sound of messy moans and distant chatter from people outside the bar was the only thing you could hear. Every move Ellie made was completely right. You hadn't been this horny in months and if she didn't stop you would come. In order to save yourself from not ruining this sacred hot moment by already coming, you sat up and pinned her down instead. Quickly taking off her pants and unbuttoning her shirt. Revealing her whole tattoo and her toned stomach. You almost moaned at the sight. Ellie, so turned on by your sudden move to pin her down, watch as your hands travel across her body. You kiss down her neck and bite her ear lightly, causing her to whimper. Your drunk sloppy kisses traveled across her toned stomach. Murmurs of your name in between her soft moans. You pull off her soaking panties and start placing kisses on her inner thigh, her hips jolting towards your face in an attempt for her pussy to reach your mouth.

“So impatient” you say, face buried between her thighs, repeating what she had said to you before. You placed soft kisses across her soaked pussy, and slowly started using your tongue. Ellie grabbed your hair into a bun in her hand, grasping onto to it harder when your tongue found her right spots. You didn't mind the pain, it was proof of the pleasure you were giving her. You looked up, her eyes already piercing into you. She yanked your face into her pussy, buring you there.

“You look so good eating me out” she said, you whimper into her pussy from her intoxicating words. Her thighs pressed against your cheeks. The way they started to shake after a few minutes. Her moans becoming loudier and messier.

“Feels so good, keep going like that” she said. You moaned loud into her pussy, swaying and buckling your own hips, trying to chase any kind of stimulation. The pace of your tongue increasing, as you started rubbing with your fingers against her entrance. Her gaze never left you, eyebrows furrowed and mouth agape. You entered her slowly, watching her eyes roll back. Your fingers pumping in and out her, hitting that spongy spot. She didn't need to tell you she was coming, you could feel it. Her pussy clenching. You looked up to see her head leaned back, eyes closed, eyebrows furrowed and mouth agape. Messy moans and curse words are all that can be heard along with the wet noises from her pussy. The pace of your tongue and fingers slowing down, helping Ellie ride out her high.

When she came undone for you, you wiped off some of her residue off your face and reached for her lips. The kiss was sloppy, her lips warm and soft. She sat up slowly, eyes not leaving yours and clapped on her thigh lightly as she spread them.

“Come here” she said.

You did what you were told and you straddled her, kissing her passionately, her fingers entering inside you with no warning. She commented on how wet you were for her. You jolted back a bit and began swaying your hips in sync of her fingers pumping in and out of you. Ellies unoccupied hand cupping your ass, slapping it lightly. Strands of salvia between you when your lips part in inbetween kisses. And the taste of her pussy lingering on both your lips from before. She rubs your clit with her thumb in slow circular motions. Your mouth is dry from moaning so much. She watches you the whole time. The faces you make as desperate sounds come from you. How her tattooed arm looks placed between your thighs. The way your breasts bounce as you ride her fingers. You burrowed yourself in her neck, moaning into her ear. She grabbed your jaw and told you to open your mouth, when you did, she spit in it. You moaned, it was all you could do. You've never had something so filthy done to you before and it turned you on immensely. You break the kiss and look down at her. The sight of her beneath you, sweaty with her brows furrowed, her bottom lip in between her teeth, focused on your pleasure. She's so fucking beautiful. Your body is so tense, pleasure overwhelming, you could fall apart on her at any moment. She felt it too. Electricity sending throughout your whole body. Your eyes never leave hers. You moaned out her name and god knows what else, your mind clouded with pleasure.

You came, hard, Ellie praising you through it. “Thats it come for me” she said.

When you were done, she gently pulled her fingers out of you which caused you to shiver. You kissed, slowly, with no rush this time. The air and your lips filled with the aftertaste of both your orgasms and cigarettes.

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NOT PROOFREAD

wrote this a month ago but been too nervous to post but fuck it. second time ever writing smut or even a fic (for others to see). english isn't my first language and i'm still trying to find my own writing style, i'll gladly take constructive criticism.

also let me know if anyone would be interested in being tagged in the first chapter — if write one.

tag: @erensfart @anneboleynluvr @faggot1234

[avsanderoth]

Writing Emotions: Sorrow

Welcome. Below lies truths, though not universal, for the art of woe - its reality, its impact and its depiction. Thank you for reading. 

To grieve at all scales is an utmost inherent aspect of processing the trials thrown at one by life. Whether for your own loss or the loss suffered by another, sorrow can be grounding when treated as it should be, or deluding when not. 

Misery loves company

Ideally, the sadness you express through your characters will draw the reader in, and via their empathy, leave them feeling similarly. Indeed, sorrow has the ability to humanize your characters - it makes them seem vulnerable in ways that allow the reader to understand them better. 

And in turn, it allows you to understand your characters better. Seeing and writing someone at their most vulnerable gives you an insight for their qualities when they don’t have the energy to hide behind a facade, whether consciously or unconsciously. Writing scenes that feature your characters grieving over any sort of loss is a good means of getting to know them. 

So then, how is one to write sorrow?

Your sorrow is your own

No two people grieve the same. When they experience loss, the reality hits them at different times, and haunts them just as sporadically. It is up to you to understand your character, and reason for yourself - how would they react to losing something? For loss is the great source of nearly all sorrow, be it your own loss or another’s for which you grieve. 

In this sense, I can only recommend two broad things. 

First, draw from yourself. The idea of sorrow one knows best is their own, and while you don’t need to directly copy the way you experience sadness and paste it onto your characters, it is a starting point you’re already deeply familiar with, and so you can revise it - adjust timings, physical and verbal reactions, the sheer fact it stems from you will make the process far, far easier. 

Second, allow yourself to be immersed in what your character is going through. This is a tip I give to all writing, but it is especially important when depicting sorrow. The closer you get to your story - the more “real” you allow it to be - the more natural the result becomes. 

I can also list some things that factor into sorrow - things to think about displaying through your story, though I cannot recommend using all of them at once. 

Does your character search for an escape, or a distraction? Do they allow the feelings to stew in their gut, waiting for them to settle or disappear?

Is your character’s reaction to loss inward or outward? Do they keep their grief to themselves, or do they shed tears and lament as the feelings naturally bubble up?

More particularly, how does your character react physically to loss? Does it make them feel weak and reach for support, does it make them feel eternally tense, are they overcome by sudden chills or flushes of heat?

Do they try to compensate for their sorrow via other emotions? Masking their feelings over loss through indiscriminate anger, or false content, or utter indifference?

Who does your character reach to for help, and why? Maybe they don’t dare reach out to anybody - if so, why not?

Should your character try to articulate their sorrow in words, do they succeed or does their vocabulary fail them? Grief is so inherent, there are times when not the harshest terms can do it justice - what does that inability do to your character, being unable to rationally communicate their feelings?

Feel free to use these when you depict sorrow - they are drawn from my own experience doing so, and work well for me. 

When grief owns you

If not handled, sorrow rots. It grows, though you delude yourself into thinking it’s dissipating. In reality, it merely loses its “shape”, detaches from what caused it in the first place so it may grow with every loss that follows, no matter how minor. The lows of the day grow deeper, the highs flatten out and turn life into a hay field hiding widespread sinkholes. 

Depression is one of many things that can follow a poorly handled loss, when the mind’s ability to produce the chemicals that steer your mood is stressed to a point of effectively shutting down. It’s a state of your grief encapsulating you, a suit of armor to protect you from the possibility that things get even worse. It distances you from reality, makes the embrace and touch of your loved ones feel empty. Your own personal abyss. 

But not all sorrow takes this path. The vengeful channel it, convert every ounce into relentless fury. If they make right of what happened, take revenge on those who caused it, they may be free - their own personal balance will return!

It doesn’t. Revenge is a distraction, and once fulfilled, the mind is left to fend for itself. There, the unresolved loss stands, waiting with open arms. And with nobody to stop it, the mind accepts. 

The hand reached out

Nobody can handle sorrow that deep on their own. They need help, and they need to want it. What is your character’s “safety net”? Do they have one, and if so, do they realize it? Does something keep them from accepting help, whether pride or self-loathing or fear that things will only get worse? Deep sorrow changes your perspective on life - do their days seem bleaker? Does opening their bedroom door feel like a monumental effort, much less making food for themselves or going outside?

Know that handling sorrow is a process that can span a lifetime depending on the event. Do not rush yourself in resolving it in your story, lest the impact is weakened and the end becomes rushed. Even if your story ends with the character still processing their loss, you can make it “good” by surrounding them with people who can help them, or just offering any reason for the reader to feel hope. 

These two concepts - grief and hope - go hand in hand when storytelling. When in tandem, the reader’s mind will fill in what your story is not long enough to contain, give happy endings, though distant, and make a resolution as good as the reader wants it to be. 

The end

Thank you for reading. I appreciate the support for this blog, and goodbye.

[jeonscatalyst]

I just have to ask them, since that cult won't stay out of Jikook spaces or off Jikook's back. Why do you want Tae to date Jk, who you claim does fanservice & hurts him? Why do you want Tae to date Jk, who prioritizes another man over him? Why do you want Tae to date JK, who spends couple days with another man and not him? Why do you want Tae to date JK, who enlisted with another man over him? Why do you want Tae to date JK, who told 20 million people he showers with another man? Why do you want Tae to date JK, who went on vacations with another man & created a show together, said he wanted to do the show for 50 years with him, where Tae had no clue & found out through group chat and had to insist on coming himself? Why do you want Tae to date Jk, when he was clearly happy with someone else?

These are valid questions. Nothing here would be considered healthy or romantic. So what do you get out of it then, if TK is real? Wanting to see them date cause they're hot? Popular? or cause you're scared to see your bias with someone else so you say its cosplayers & use JK to feel better? Clearly its not because you think they're in love, because you don't love someone & do 'fanservice' with someone else, shower with someone else & tell the world while throwing it in your partners face or leave someone you love to enlist with someone else, when you had a chance to be together. They can't answer it cause its never been about TK, its about them wanting it for them no matter how toxic it is. What does that cult think is gonna happen? Jk is gonna get out of the shower with Jimin and go get in Tae's shower? What do PJM's think is gonna happen. Jimin is gonna leave Jk's side after 18 months and never speak to him again? What do JJK's think is gonna happen. Jk is gonna drop Jimin and marry them or some woman to fulfill their fantasies? All this crashing out over Jikook since enlistment & discharge & traveling together from all sides, is pure insanity. All while JIkook are living their best lives without a care in the world about your negativity or your tears. This fandom needs a real reality check.

You know what’s funny, anon? Taekookers are losing their minds over Jungkook traveling with Jimin to multiple countries right after his military discharge even though, on the day Jungkook was discharged ,Tae was off hanging out with his Wooga friends. You never see them upset at Tae for not being there with Jungkook, even though you’d think that’s when a boyfriend would be expected to show up. But God forbid Jungkook decides to spend time traveling with someone he’s just spent 18 months with in the military.

The reason Taekookers are so quick to strip Jungkook of his autonomy and paint him as some kind of puppet is because deep down, they know that if Taekook were truly in a relationship, then it’s clearly not an ideal one. So to cope, they convince themselves that everything Jungkook does for, to, or with Jimin is either forced or tied to some contractual obligation. That way, Jungkook isn’t a “bad boyfriend” he’s just doing what he has to do. He’s not choosing to be with Jimin, he’s simply following orders.

They’ll say anything to avoid admitting that Jungkook does these things with Jimin because he wants to. But of course, it wouldn’t make sense to them that Jungkook would rather travel the world with Jimin than spend quality time with a “boyfriend” he barely saw for 18 months so instead, they twist the narrative to fit their fantasy.

Truth is, they want Taekook to be in a romantic relationship so badly that they’ll accept any theory no matter how far-fetched as long as it protects that illusion.

[rincent-van-uggh]

Ahh this is so much what I have been thinking. Even if I agreed with intellectual property in principle, IP law benefits corporations far, far more than small artists (because the law only protects those who can afford to enforce it).

All the notions that AI is cheating because it makes the process of art making too easy are not at all distinct, so far as I can see, from people saying the same things about any new art making technology (digital art, electronic music, people say these things are not real art for the same reasons). I mean, people trying to pass off AI art as if they themselves hand painted it are just idiots telling lies, nothing new. If someone uses AI to generate the background for an drawing they did, and they're honest about it, thats just art. People do the same thing with backgrounds not generated by AI too.

I find a lot of AI criticism comes down to "this tool is being operated and peddaled by idiots" rather than that the tool itself is bad. "People who use AI to study for them get lower grades" well duh, having anything study for you is incoherent, you necessarily have to use your own brain for that. If what they mean by this is that people are using AI to write notes and summaries for them to read, this is also misguided as AI cannot reliably create accurate summaries, if it adds in nonsense, you may not realise and study stuff it entirely made up.

There are also adjacent issues. Like I dont take issue particularly with public data being fed to the machine apart from how empowering AI in our current system means empowering shitty corporations. But sometimes private data may be fed to the machine, corporations are getting increasingly sneaky and invasive, changing ToS to say that they can use any of your stuff, even non-public things to train AI. While AI tends to mix together loads of stuff into its outputs, it is feasible that an AI could be fed private data and spit it out wholesale, and we have no way to prevent this currently. I am glad that i have managed to move entirely off of things like google drive because I don't trust them to uphold privacy at the best of times, but especially not in this context.

My main issue with AI, honestly, is that I find it annoying. It keeps being put in places I dont want it, to solve problems I don't have. I think this is a popular position to hold here on tumblr, where we have several times pushed the website management to allow us to opt out of new trendy features we dont like, such as "best stuff first" and other algorithmic generated features, and "tumblr live". I object to having new technology replace the old stuff, not only because the old stuff is what I am familiar with, but because often times it works, in at least some important ways, better than the new stuff. I don't need AI generated art, I enjoy making art myself. I do not want AI customer service chat bot, it is less effective at addressing my needs than the humans are.

The tool is fine, but almost every time I encouter it, it is being used by idiots to uninteresting ends, and I would like to not have to encounter it if I don't want or need to.

Worst part of popular left wing AI discourse online is that there's absolutely a need for a robust leftist opposition to use of cognitive automation without social dispensation to displaced human workers. The lack of any prior measures to facilitate a transition to having fewer humans in the workplace (UBI, more public control over industrial infrastructure, etc) is a disaster we are sleepwalking into - one that could lock the majority of our society's wealth further into the hands of authoritarian oligarchs who retain control of industry through last century private ownership models, while no longer needing to rely on us to operate their property.

But now we're seemingly not going to have the opposition we so desperately need, because everyone involved in the anti-AI conversation has pretty thoroughly discredited themselves and their movement by harbouring unconstrained reactionary nonsense, blatant falsehoods and woo. Instead of talking about who owns and benefits from cognitive automation, people are:

Demanding impossibilities like uninventing a now readily accessible technology

Trying to ascribe implicit moral value to said technology instead of the who is using it and how

Siding with corporations on copyright law in the name of "defending small artists"

Repeating obvious and embarrassing technical misconceptions and erroneous pop-sci about machine learning in order to justify their preferred philosophy

Invoking neo-spiritual conservative woo about the specialness of the human soul to try to incoherently discredit a machine that can quite obviously perform certain tasks just as well if not better than they can

Misrepresent numbers about energy use and environmental cost in an absurd double standard (all modern infrastructure is reliant on data centers to a similar level of impact, including your favourite fandom social media and online video games!) to build a narrative AI is some sort of malevolent spirit that damages our reality when it is called upon

It's a level of reactionary ignorance that has completely discredited any popular opposition to industrial AI rollout because it falls apart as soon as you dig deeper than a snappy social media post, or a misguided pro-copyright screed from an insecure web artist (who decries a machine laying eyes on their freely posted work while simultaneously charging commission for fan-art of corporate IPs... I'm sure that will absolutely resolve in their favour).

It would be funny how much people are fucking themselves over with all this, except I'm being fucked over to, and as a result am really quite mad about the situation. We need UBI, we need to liberate abundance from corporate greed, what we don't need is viral posts about putting distortion filters on anime fan-art to ward off the evil mechanical eye, pointless boycotts of platforms because they are perceived to have let the evil machines taint them, or petitions to further criminalize the creation of derivative works.

[parnashiamparapio]

Forever their's.

Pairing: vminkook x reader.

Contains: psychotic behaviour, a lot of smut, possessiveness, obsession, yandere behaviour, gore, killing, oral sex, rough sex, threesome, three men sharing same woman. Rich vminkook, countryside girl. Forced proximity, clit play, riding, possessive behaviour. Mention of death.

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Summary: A young woman from the countryside, comes to the city of seoul for study - at her aunts and beckmes an obsession not only one but three deadly, insanely handsome and rich bachelors. They will do anything to make her theirs. Either With their wealth, charm, and determination. They will stop at nothing to bring her into their lives, even if it means shattering her innocence and leaving her forever changed. Forever their's even if it includes - killing people.

Chapter eight.

I stretched my arm softly, a soft groan left my mouth. My back is hurting badly. I have been typing on my laptop for three hours, writing down the project. The deadline is near and I wanted to give the best. I shared a mutual conversation with jungwoo — only slight conversation.

Nothing more.

Nothing less.

I know the fact that I do anything stupid then others will face the consequences. And I don't want that.

My grandma is still being treated and her surgery is going on. They have been keeping checks on her and I'm glad. At least they are good at this. Knowing the reason I can't rely on anyone except them. They can handle the expense and everything. I want to work hard so i can pay them off. I feel burdened.

Not to mention, their small touches never stop. Sometimes they throw me on their bed and devour me until i forget how to breathe.

They would touch me and clean me gently, they would cuddle me after the sex. Taehyung mostly stays in the mansion with me. He would touch me, shower with me and clean me up. He asks me about my day and has a small talk with me.

    He always listens attentively to what i say. Even my words are hatred.

Whenever Jungkook sees me, his lips are on mine. Jungkook doesn't care about his own pleasure, he doesn't care if he comes first— he cares if i did— several times. He also never leaves me dirty, he washes me up, dresses me up, and brushes my hair.

Jungkook makes amazing hair styles.

Taehyung would call the maids to bring food when I'm too sore to move.

Recently i got to know from Jimin that aunt and min-ah has been shifting to New York. And they have been dealing with their business there. I don't know if it's true or not.

But I don't think they care about their mother at all — let alone the sister.

No matter how much i run, from myself and my feelings for them. In the end it's always me and my thoughts. I can't help but feel a little vulnerable when I'm with them.

Not all girls like heroes. I was fated to be bonded with the Villains. Who'll put me ahead of everyone — including themselves.

They are extremely compulsive, their emotions, temper and love.

I sighed softly, and rubbed my temple feeling a headache forming. I grabbed menstruation cycle pills — i feel like I'm close to my periods. Which is good.

I have been taking pills.

Birth control.

These bastards whenever they are intimate, they fill inside me. If i get pregnant then it's worse, worse to leave them.

I opened YouTube and saw a few slides of cupcakes. I love cupcakes — back then i used to make it with my grandma. The sudden cravenness was overwhelming.

I opened my desk and take out a small diary, i wrote so many small recipes to make instead of eating snacks. I went downstairs. I was currently in black soft sweater and a pair of grey sweatpants. 

I greeted the maid softly not wanting to scare her as her back was facing me. "Can you tell me where the baking things are?" I told her specific things about the cupcakes. She smiled softly and nodded. She placed all the things on the kitchen marble.

It was almost 7:45 pm, but anyways.

I gently talked with her while baking and mixing the batter. Asking how long she has been working and other things she loves to do etc etc.

"Can you pass me the butter miss?" I spoke softly without turning around. When i heard nothing i frowned and looked behind.

"Want this?" Jimin held the butter in his hand. I nodded and looked at him. Jimin walked towards me. Jimin was in black simple black t-shirt and a pair of black skinny jeans. And black cap on his head. His silver chain showing.

"Why are you dressed in all black?" I couldn't help but ask, Jimin handed me butter and put it inside the bowl. Mixing the cupcake batter. Jimin said nothing and leaned on the kitchen marble and looked at me.

"You know what time is it right?" He asked looking at me.

"Yeah? Around 8?" I said like a matter-of-fact tone.

"It's time for dinner and You're eating these cupcakes. "

"I was craving it."

"Crave me, instead."

I glared into his dark eyes and he smirked.

"I'd rather crave cupcakes than you." I grumbled under my breath and mixed the batter. I cracked an egg and mixed it. Jimin came behind me sneaking his arm around my waist pulling me closer to his chest — snuggling against my neck. Inhaling deeply.

"You smell so good, always do." Jimin mumbled against the skin of my neck. "Jimin, let go. I'm working." I tried to wiggle out from his grasp.

I can feel him grinning against my neck. "Am i distracting you, angel eyes?" He pressed my bottom against his bulge. I take a sharp inhale. "Feel that?" He whispered against my ear, kissing the back of my ear.

These guys are always horny.

I slightly pushed him away, and grabbed the baking container. Applying oil and butter paper, i pour all the batter inside the container and put it inside the convection microwave. And applied the limit — i hope it turns out yummy.

Jimin opened the chocolate, he was about to eat it. I gasped softly and snatched it away — "hey, you can't eat this. This is for the cupcake topping." I frown softly. "

"Well I'm craving something sweet." He murmured leaning down staring at my lips. "You can help me tho."

"No."

"Yes."

"No."

"No."

"Yes."

Dammit.

He smirked. "Now now you can't back off can you, in the end you always end up what we want anyways." He smiled, and licked his lips. His eyes kinda vanished the way he smiled.

"Too bad I don't want you, nor I'll help you to feed you for your 'sweet treat' nor I'll share my cupcakes with you." I crossed my arms and looked at him.

Jimin yanked my closer with the hem of the collar shirt, i gasped softly.  I could smell his musk scent with a hint of something sweet. I looked up at his eyes.

"Aren't you talking back way too much?" He murmurs against my lips. He caressed my lower lips softly. "How's your project going?"

"It's going good." I said barely over the whisper, too bothered by the closeness. "Just good?" He demanded an answer, and wanted to know more. I nodded and gulped.

I nibbled my lower lips softly looking at him.

"Don't do that unless you want to be fucked in this goddamn kitchen." His jaw clenched and his voice came out strained and i know he wasn't joking around.

"You guys know nothing except that."

"When we have a woman like you in our life. We can't think of straight, baby."

"I wish I'd never met you, and them." I whispered, Jimin tucked loose strand behind my ear and caressed contour of my cheeks softly. Caressing them gently like I'm some delicate doll.

Jimin's lips brushed against my forehead "I'll meet you again and again if i have to. To see you, to look at you, to touch you, to drown in your hazel brown eyes. "

My heart thudded at uncontrollable speed.

I'm afraid he'll hear it, it was so loud. I could hear it in my ears.

"Can't stop thinking about you." His lips brushed against my cheeks. "Can't stop wanting you." He kissed my jaw. "Can't stop watching you." He kissed my eyelids. "You don't know what you're doing to me do you?"

"If you like me so much, then why do you and the other two act like this?" I asked softly and looked at him.

"Act like what?"

"You know what jimin."

Jimin looked away, not meeting my eyes.

"You guys act like extreme possessiveness, act differently then being gentle all of sudden. I feel suffocate, watched. Threatening me, and people who are trying to get close to me. Why?" I can't help but ask about these things, voice my thoughts that I always wanted to escape.

"You think we choose this? We chose to be like this? It happened angel eyes. Since the day you came — everything changed. And i know one thing. We are never letting you go. Ever."

Tears gathered in my eyes.

Gosh, i hate being so vulnerable all the time.

Before i controlled them, it rolled down my cheeks. Screw these hormones. Being vulnerable In front of this possessive jerks will only give them more power over me.

Jimin dropped his forehead against my mine, our breaths mingle together. "Always so pretty when you cry."

I gulped at his words.

"You're sick." I spat.

"Tell me something I don't know."

There was a small voice in the microwave, the cupcakes were baked. I wiped my wet cheeks and opened the microwave. I was about to take the container.

"Stop." Jimin suddenly said.

I looked at him with a frown.

"Where is the your fucking mind. Wear gloves, you were about to burn your hand." Jimin wore the baking gloves and took out the hot container.

The cupcakes were perfectly baked and smelling good. I sigh in relief and take out slowly each of them.

And Jimin watched me getting excited over the cupcake.

——

I was currently in university, me and Jungwoo were sitting together in our university class room hall. I was kinda nervous about our project - i just really hope that we pass and get points in our upcoming semester. It's almost like free marks and good for our GPA.

The professor was actually in a very sour mood today, he wasn't passing the students that easily. And i was really scared that he wouldn't pass our project either. Cause this is actually free marks.

And he even said if he liked one project a little too much, he'll add some extra marks with an announcement. I looked at jungwoo and he looked at me. He gave me a reassuring smile. "Don't worry, partner. We got it." He said softly leaning onto him, showing his fist bump.

I joined my fist with him with a soft bump.

"This was the easiest assignment i gave you - everyone. And this is actually a very poor result. Only if you guys actually focused on it instead of doing the parties."

The professor tsked with annoyance. Everyone looked either disappointed or they didn't care. This university of Seoul is basically the university of 'brats' no one really takes study seriously here.

Except for scholarship students.

Me.

"Anyways, this student actually preformed pretty well. The names are."

I felt my heart thudding.

My heart on my throat.

"Soohee and kang minjung, Min-Hyuk and won-woo, Cyra and Jungwoo and jung minho and jihyun."

A gasped escape my lips.

Oh my god we passed?

I looked at jungwoo, who was pumping his fist in air.

"See i told you" he nudged his shoulder with me gently. "Yeah, you told me" i nodded. "Great work, partner." I smiled at him.

He flipped his imaginary hair.

A giggle left my mouth.

"Sohee and kang minjung and Cyra Maevie and Jungwoo lee. You guys did more than better work. And according to principal as we said about the extra marks for your GPA. He'll decide it." The professor spoke.

All of us nodded.

"For the winners, sir?" Jungwoo asked, and the professor nodded.

"I don't get the concept of this competition." I mumbled.

"It's just a free marks, some people don't give a shit about it either. I don't too, but being you as my partner. Now i do."

I smiled at his words.

"And why is that?"

"You're a nerd." He teases.

I frown. "Whatever you say, I'm better than you."

He gasped and mocked hurt placing hand on his chest. "You wounded me, partner."

"By the way - I'm kinda nervous." I spoke softly looking at him.

Jungwoo frowns and crossed his arms.

"Why? We passed anyways."

"Yeah, i know but standing in front of the hall and they announce the result. It's very - urm i don't know."

Jungwoo held my hand under the desk, interwining hands with me. I gulped softly and looked at him.

"You don't have to worry okay. We are together in this, and trust me. We'll win."

Why this whole thing over a small project. I don't get it.

I heard from other students that, they have to announce some other things too. That's why they are doing this all together.

Makes sense.

Two our teams were standing on the stage, with everyone eyes on us.

I looked around and my eyes locked on Taehyung's.

He was sitting.

On the back, his both arm on his each thighs staring into my soul.

I gulped softly.

Jimin and Jungkook wasn't here. I don't know why tho.

I quickly averted my gaze.

"Good morning students", the principal spoke. The principal continued to speak, but my mind drift backwards to that incident of min-woo case scene.

I'm still very terrified, but I'm more terrified the fact. No one said anything about it. Not even principal. They brushed it off like it's just a normal thing.

No scandal, nothing.

I remember hearing a small news about it, that was an incident and other's were strictly forbidded to not talk about it any further.

An accident.

Nothing more.

That's what they all said.

"We won." Jungwoo shake me gently, i snapped out of my thoughts and looked at him.

"What?"

Jungwoo smiled widely and looked at me. "We won silly - we even won a laptop!"

I blinks slowly and looked around.

We won, we won.

I squealed left my mouth and my actions were impulsive.

Oh no.

I jumped in jungwoo's arms, wrapping my arms around his neck. Smiling, i felt him tensed in my arms by my sudden display of affection. I felt his breath caught in his throat.

Even my own heart skipped a beat.

Before i realized what i was doing, jungwoo's arm instantly wrapped around my waist and he lifted me from the ground with ease.

He chuckled softly against my ear. "We won."

I quickly snap out of my excitement Zone, i slowly get down and he gently puts me down. I brushed my bangs out of my forehead softly.

My cheeks flame. I can feel the exact heat.

Jungwoo showed me his palm, for a high five. Easing the awkwardness from me. I smiled gently and high five him.

My eyes locked on Taehyung's once again.

His eyes were darker than usual.

His jaw clenched. And eyes on mine.

I felt his lips moving forming some words, he mouthed.

"You're so fucking dead."

And i gulped.

My movements were quick and frightening. The ceremony continued to begin. I could still feel his eyes on me, but i just ignored it. I completely tried not to acknowledge his gaze that was leaving me bare and exposed.

I standing on stage with Jungwoo, couldn't help but feel the weight of Taehyung's dark gaze on me. As i remember my arms wrapped around Jungwoo in a spontaneous hug, i couldn't shake the feeling that her actions were leading them all down a dangerous path.

In the audience, Taehyung still watched my every move, his eyes filled with a darkness that both frightened her.

I know, deep down, that he was capable of great harm, his presence a constant reminder of the danger that lurked just beneath the surface.

My heart raced as i imagined the consequences of my own actions, the safety of Jungwoo hanging in the balance as i stood there, bare and vulnerable to Taehyung's consuming gaze.

As the performance continued, i felt naked, exposed, and entirely at the mercy of Taehyung's dangerous desire. I knew, in that moment, that i was in over my head, the consequences of my own actions too great to bear.

The students came down, and other students ceremonies began about their own other projects according to their majors. My phone buzzed in my pocket.

I took it out and read the message.

<I won't say it nicely again, be a good girl and meet me in the car. We are going back home.>

My chest heaved, i looked across the room looking at taehyung. Who was staring at me with deadly eyes - there was no hint of any emotion inside his eyes. They were dark and drooling.

"Hey, you okay?" Jungwoo's worried voice snapped me out of my thoughts. I looked at him. He looked down at me, i nodded and tried to smile.

"Jungwoo, i-i have to leave. Something came up." I quickly took a step back, not caring to explain anything. Before he asks any other questions. I turned around leaving the venue of the university hall.

I was walking down the hallway.

I was yanked off.

I bumped on his chest and looked up at him. Taehyung's grip on my waist and wrist tightened. I gulped and looked at him.

"Taehyung lis-" i was cut off by his walking, and yanking me off with him. "Taehyung, you're hurting me." I winced softly, trying to remove his grip from my hand.

"That's the point, flower. You love to get hurt right? - I'll show you."

We reached taehyung's car and he shoved me inside the passenger seat and buckled my belts.

Taehyung walked towards his driving seat, staring at the engine. He roared. He was practically driving so fast. Everything was so blurry around us, and so was my vision.

"Slow down" i whispered and looked down, tears rolled down my cheeks. I held the handle. Taehyung didn't slow down. Not even a bit.

I could feel his veins popping on his neck and forehead.

His veiny hands gripped the steering wheel tightly. "Please, slow down." I choked out.

He's mad.

We might die – the way he was driving.

there was always a weird kind of assertiveness in taehyung's voice whenever he voiced his love and craze for you. Almost as if this was normal, always as if he believes in his bones that you were meant to be his.

Like there was nothing wrong with the way they keep you. The way they treat you, locking up, every single thing. It was normal for them.

Taehyung wanted to set the world on fire, he will set that boy on fire, but what was he to do to you? Nothing? I mean why would he hurt his pretty little naive flower.

he was gonna teach you a lesson. And you got the hint of that with him speeding through the streets of Seoul like he owned them. He does own them.

"You're crazy."

"You make me crazy."

His voice was icy, not even a hint of mock, mischievous or anything. It felt like it was coming from a dead person.

As soon as we reached, taehyung dragged me inside. Taehyung shoved me on his bed, i clutched on the white sheets in the palm of my hand.

I looked at him, taehyung locked the door. He looked at me and smiled. That smiled terrified me - "why don't you smile and hug me too, flower?"

I crawled backwards, he grabbed my ankle and yanked me closer to him. "You never listen do you? We tried everything. We tried to be polite, gave you space, freedom - treating your fucking grandma."

Ny lips trembled.

Only if i could fight, slap or do anything but i can't.

My grandma was under their protection.

"What if i told them to stop the surgery and let your grandma die?" He whispered in my ear, kissing my temple.

No, no.

"P-please, don't." A choked sob left my mouth, "she's the only one i have." I whispered, taehyung licked my tears that were rolling down my cheek.

He hummed, pretending to think.

"You don't want that, right?" He raised his eyebrows. Looking down at me. I nodded almost pathetically.

"Spread your legs for me."

It's always give and take.

Always.

"Beg me to fuck you, beg me to make love to you. Show me your fucking affection. I crave it like a fucking starving man." He growled against my lips, and bit my lower lips.

I gasped softly.

Taking the chance, his tongue slipped inside my mouth. His lips moved fiercely against my lips. He devoured me furiously and angrily. Pouring out his pent-up frustration, jealousy.

His kiss consuming. Taking out every breath inside my mouth, leaving me breathless.

Deadly.

My hand quickly flies towards his chest, trying to push him. But he grabbed them pinning them over her head.

Taehyung spread my legs, his cloth hard bulge pressed on my clothed core. I nibbled my lower lips softly and breathed softly arching my back.

Taehyung kissed my throat.

"You make me go crazy, flower. I can't think of anything else. I can't do anything. I can't eat, i can't think. You. Fucking. Consumed. Me."

I closed my eyes, I don't want to think of anything else right now.

Taehyung's hand went to my pants, he leaned down slowly. He pulled my zipper down with his teeth and whispered kissing my clothed core - "this is mine, you're mine."

He yanked the pants off discarding them on the floor.

"I want your time, i want your affection, i want you to smile at me like you were smiling at the fucking jungwoo." He rasped, his hand went to the hem of my shirt.

"I want to feel your body on fire, i want to feel your heart racing. I want you to kiss my cheek, kiss my lips, kiss my body." Taehyung desperately kissed me again.

Taehyung's voice shaky "I'm so fucking in love with you, cyra. So desperately - so so desperately." He whispered.

"This isn't love." I pants softly against his lips. Looking at his dark eyes with my teary one.

"Call whatever you want. i desire you" taehyung removed my panties and slid his two fingers at once. I whimpered. "I need you." He said desperately.

"I burn for you." He kissed my cheeks, and temple. Burying his face in my neck. His actions were furious with gentleness as well.

"H-hurts."

"That's the point." He whispered in my ear, licking the earlobe.

"You know what? Jungkook was right — we should have killed him long ago. We were being patient." He said calmly like he isn't talking about murdering someone.

This is the last thing i want.

Someone being killed because of me.

I looked into his eyes – "don't do this, please."

He smiled tilting his head left almost dangerously staring into my eyes. "You're sexy when you beg." He placed a gentle chaste kiss on my lips.

Almost like a caress.

He worshiped my body, on his knees. His curled his fingers inside my pussy along sucking on my clit. My mouth fall open softly, my chest heaved as i stared at the ceiling.

Taehyung's hand continuously moved in and out curling inside — making me go towards the edge. A breathy moan left my mouth, no matter how much i control it. He sucked harder on my clit making my hips buckle again on his face.

"T-taehyung i-i-" I couldn't even complete my own sentence, my abdomen churned. I was close to an unknown pleasure threatening to come out.

"Come for me, flower." Taehyung whispered against my pussy. And i let go. My chest heaved, desperate pants left my mouth.

Taehyung sucked me off.

Every. Single. Drop.

He crawled upwards. "Taste yourself." He smashed his lips, kissing me fiercely. I could taste my own arousal on his lips. On his tongue. My sensitive pussy suddenly ached. More.

I want more of him.

He rubbed the tip of his angry cock on my clit up and down. His own pre-cum meeting my sensitive pussy making me arch more.

He pushed inside.

A loud mewl left my lips. "N-no pull out p-please." I pleaded, more like above the whisper. But my pleas went deaf to his ears.

"We're not even half inside, flower." He chuckled darkly against my ear.

Suddenly.

He thrust all one go.

My scream got muffled by his kiss, he instantly grabbed my legs putting over his shoulder. And groaned loudly. Taehyung thrusted in and out in animalistic speed.

His hand went to my nipples, flicking it. His mouth captured the right one.

I gasp.

He squeezed the left one, giving the same attention as right.

He placed another kiss on my throat, inhaling deeply.

His cock didn't stop going in and out, he slowed down his movement then going back in with deep and powerful thrust. Making me arch back.

A sob left my mouth.

Taehyung, filled with rage and a twisted sense of possessiveness, drove himself into me, his anger coursing through his every move. He lied against my neck, his hot breath a stark contrast to the cruelty in his words as he spoke of a love that was anything but pure.

His actions were not a result of love but a mere manifestation of his dangerous obsession. His large cock, thrusting in and out of my pussy with savage intensity, punishing me for even daring to look at other men, let alone hug one so intimately.

He drove himself deeper, using the memory of her affectionate embrace with Jungwoo as fuel for his unwavering anger.

  Despite the pain and shame, i couldn't help but feel a twisted sense of regret for her previous actions, knowing that they had led her to this dark and dangerous place.

Taehyung grabbed my hair yanking me up on his lap, i yelped softly against his lips as he settled me on his lap. His cock was still buried inside me. "Ride me." He rasped, he grabbed my hips and made me move back and forth.

He did all the positions. Every single one.

Our breaths mingle together.

Taehyung joined forehead against mine, staring at me.

Locking my every expression, every tear in his twisted, unhinged mind.

He left a mark on neck, dark and prominent. Clearly showing everyone that she's his — and theirs.

"I." Thrusted upwards. "fucking." Thrusted upwards. "Love." Thrusted upwards. "You."

We both came together.

His seeds filled inside me once again. They will leave me pregnant for sure.

Making me carrying another monster like them.

My eyes slowly drool, exhaustion took over me like a warm blanket. I whispered my last words. "Don't hurt him please." It was a mere whisper, above it.

"We won't — not yet."

And everything turns black.

[demonslayedher]

Things that went through my head while watching this episode (in 2025!)

--This episode exists in this format because somebody at Ufotable probably said, "You know what this series needs more of? Tengen's legs."

--That being said, two things I don't really like that I'm gonna just put out there: 1. I don't like seeing how beefy Tanjiro is, and 2. Ufotable is really hit and miss with filler. This one, which is mostly filler, has parts that work for me and parts that I think would have worked better if they were reigned in a bit.

--Okay, to come straight out with the point they wanted to make at the end of this episode (and in just about every other trying-to-add-personality-to-the-mob filler bit in this season), the other Corp members know that they aren't capable of defeating Upper Moons, let alone Kibutsuji Muzan. However, they are filled with hope that people like the Hashira and Tanjiro can, and they will do their best to get stronger so that they can support them.

--...Okay.

--First off, I am fine taking that at face value. That is a valid point to make in a series like this. In the end, many of them will make good on their commitment to their shared goal by sacrificing themselves to save those who have the real capacity for accomplishing the goal. They are, as Tanjiro has so often reiterated, bound by each other's wills, and pushed forward by the wills of many people.

--Also, it is a shonen. I am not going to read into this saying that harsh training in a short period would have just tired them out before the big battle. They're fine. Each and every one of these Corp members has clawed their way here with determination, commitment, and enough strength to break my arm bones in one hand alone. I wholeheartedly accept the storytelling premise that they have all benefited from this grueling training and that they will all come out stronger because of it, even if that does not mean they will be of the same caliber as those with more Gotouge-given talent.

--But gosh, dang it, Ufotable, did you have to be so heavy-handed with it!??

--There were hints leading up to that "I know I can't do it, but I believe you guys can! And I'm gonna do my best to support you!" declaration at the end, but gee whiz, I wish it could have been handled with more grace.

--As for what I think worked in this filler, Tengen's outright disgust with Corp members talking about getting out of training. These guys are committed--just as much as anybody who was driven to the Corp for more than money or (within a secret organization) glory--but Tengen can only see the gap between their commitment and that of Hashira who have trained to the point of spitting blood. He cannot see beyond that gap. And that is why there is some satisfaction in the "I can't do this, but I'm going to get stronger to help you guys anyway" ending. Tengen needed some hope restored in them.

--This is something I really like about the Hashira Training Arc--it was, for both the Hashira and the regular Corp members, a chance to get to know each other better and care about each other, and feel united in a common goal. This, after it has been so commonplace for the Hashira to seem like an organization all their own, with the others all just dragging on their heels. Until very recently, it was easy to just complain about the poor quality of the other Corp members, because the Hashira cannot see beyond that gap. It is like the curse of knowledge--once you know something well, you often cannot remember what it was like to not know it, so this can make you impatient with people who haven't got it yet. It makes it easy to overestimate others. These other Corp members have been saviors to so many people, but all it takes is one demon to end all that. And the Hashira have seen that too many times, and it colors their view of these very powerful people who have all been doing their best.

--More on that in the following episode, which I think improves on this a bit more

--Because this episodes is basically fan service

--Because we all like seeing Tengen's legs, right

--Because we all like seeing Tanjiro just hanging out and having domestic time with the girlies, who finally have gotten to process their new life and what they all went through on Yoshiwara

--Not that they have bothered to remember Zenitsu and Inosuke's names, but I'm sure they served them tea too and made sure to thank them (whether or not Zenitsu has any idea what he did, who knows)

--But that being said, this probably the first time Tanjiro and Uzui have seen each other since that battle, and Tengen's assessment of him and how he has grown--both in what he says to Tanjiro right away and what he thinks to himself during the fanservice mock-battle on the mountain is so satisfying, both for Tengen himself and for everyone who has been rooting Tanjiro on. So happy for Tengen that he gets to feel that he has contributed to the future of the Corp, despite his retirement.

--But, I love that flick of his eyepatch, dang, how satisfying

--Though it feels like Tengen does have a part of him who wishes to still be fighting (especially when he appears to find these Corp members unreliable and says how he'll look bad (to his former peers) if he sends them in such poor condition), Hinatsuru, Makio, and Suma are all loving this new peaceful life and I am so happy for them.

--Now, having seen this in Toho Cinema with the short bit of them having bad movie-going etiquette because they just don't know any better, I looooove the idea of them all going out and doing things like going to the cinema for the first time. But, seeing as they were all essentially raised in a cult, they just don't understand some normal society stuff. Sure, they could work their way around the nighttime society of Yoshiwara because it was work and being ninja means infiltrating in order to spy, but even in their hobbies like going to hidden onsen and even in their chosen location for this training, they are still isolated from society, because that is what they know. I would looooove to see them be like, "Hey, have you heard of these things called 'caa-fei'? Tengen-sama, let's go to a 'caa-fei.' How do we dress for those? Do we need to wear Western-style dresses? Tengen-sama, how do we get those? Oh! Oh!! We can try that thing!! In those big buildings! Sho... that's right! 'Shopping spree!'" (Tengen probably knows how to handle large amounts of money and Hinatsuru can handle small purchases like groceries and supplies, but I'll bet Makio and Suma have no money-related sense because they just haven't needed to deal with it.)

--Okay now as for the other filler I think is working here

--It is a little heavy-handed, yes, but I do enjoy the scene with the two Corp members on patrol. Yes, it is a lot of exposition, but at least they just get to be normal dudes about it expressing what is normal to them. Corp life is normal to them now, they hate and fear demons and it gets pretty routine but they do take their work seriously. And like, if the Kamaboko boys get to be goofballs, these guys deserve to be goofballs too.

--And, frankly, letting them be goofballs is the best way for us to bond with them.

[starrydreamerluna]

Huntrix was formed on a survival show-

-to test the trainees compatibility with rumi and the rest of the public. To see who had the spark to become a demon hunter.

Zoey(14) auditions with a sunlight sisters song she wrote an extended part for so she could rap, because Bobby sent it in for her wanting her to at least try to pursue music.

Mira(16) gets scouted at a dance meet where no one knows who she is so she ends up hiding herself as mira and dying her hair black so no one recognises her on the show.

Rumi(15) was a shoe in obviously, but she'd not guaranteed for the final lineup if the honmoon doesn't resonate with her enough (she can use it still though because the sunlight sisters are still technically active and rumi inherited her mothers claim to use it)

There's a few weeks of the usual training and covering songs before Celine starts being able to whittle down her shortlist and starts encouraging the girls to push themselves to connect with the music theyre performing and think how the audience will connect with it.

Zoey rumi and mira get put together by chance and outperform the other teams in a Sunlight sisters themed challenge/mission where the girls really made the songs their own. Mira choreographs new parts including an improved dancebreak, rumi opts up in her high notes and adlibs but also guides her teammates on harmonies and zoey kills it with her best rap yet.

When it gets down to the final 10 girls one of them gets injured in a practice room and has to pull out after she's found by rumi and Celine, leaving 3 teams of three girls. Celine therefore decides to pull out the final challenge- she wants each team to work with eschother and as much staff as they need to produce a demo debut. What do they want their debut to sound like, what foot are they putting forward? How are they gonna present themselves to their fans?

The ones who resonate the strongest with the honmoon will win their debut. They have 6 weeks. (During which the actual episodes start airing.)

There's a bit of angst and hurt going between the teams and their members, zoey is panicking about her heritage and ability because people are calling her western and her schoolmates are watching her. Mira realises people are starting to figure out who she is, and rumi knows that a demon attacked the trainee that got hurt, trying to prevent the hunters coming together.

before Celine can know for sure who her apprentices may be demons break into rumi, mira and zoeys practice session and they find out about it all because rumi has to defend them. When she gets pinned in comes mira with a steal chair and 14 year old zoey uses her cheerleading experience to kick a few demons back.

Unfortunately they do steal something: zoeys notebook which fucking devastates her. Rumi promises its okay.

Zoey in all her childish dumbassery decides to sneak out that night to go get her notebook back, partly her own drive, partly a tempt by gwi-ma to get her killed once he found out it had a lot of confessions of her anxiety throughout the show.

Mira was on her way back after being confronted by her parents about everything when zoey left. She's so angry at them she decided to cut off contact because she felt so at home in the dorms.

Both of them accidentally unknowingly tear the honmoon and its rumi to the rescue, until yknow. The girls summon their weapons for the first time. They start writing the song then and there, zoey inspired by the sounds of the honmoon for a baseline, mira channeling her want to beat shit up into choreography and rumi's awkward sassy ass coming up with the hook while insulting demons.

Zoey calls in Bobby for support because he's her legal guardian while she's in Korea and he starts helping manage their tasks and they get the demo done with enough time to go on a few more hunts to get the notebook back because Bobby let's it slip how important they are to zoey.

Celine isn't happy with them when she finds them after biting off more than they can chew.

She is incredibly impressed two days later when they perform their song at the live finale and the honmoon soars in recognition of its new guardians.

[sapphicides]

please write that nastylot meta if you feel so inclined!!! i’m a believer as well <3

i’m not sure how coherent or well-written this will be but i have SO many thoughts on their dynamic(s) so i’m gonna try my best to put them together

i think what makes nastylot so compelling to me is that all three of these women have been ostracized or outcasted in some way. either by society, their friends, their families, or some combination of all 3, misty, natalie, and lottie are all intimately familiar with what it means to be “othered.” this seems to bleed into all of their romantic relationships, as well, with lottie being the only main character without a canon love interest, misty’s multiple failed attempts at dating, and natalie’s inability to achieve stability with any of her partners

… which is why it makes perfect sense to me that these would be the three characters most open to polyamory out of anyone. lottie seems like the most obvious candidate for someone who would be into it— out of all three of them, i think she’s the one who craves togetherness and community the most. misty’s desperation is more evident in her drastic and, oftentimes, outright dangerous attempts to get people to pay attention to/like her, but, unlike lottie, misty never really stoops to the point of changing herself for anyone. instead, misty hovers around people like a lost puppy looking for its owner, hoping they’ll see her for what she’s worth if they only get to know her. lottie, on the other hand, takes the opposite approach, projecting an image of stability and leadership while hiding the parts of herself she’s been taught to hate (see: her mental illness)

misty and natalie both have something lottie wants desperately: the ability to be completely and utterly themselves. misty never changes for anyone, despite many people’s attempts at getting her to. natalie is similar in this way, maintaining her sense of morality no matter how bad shit gets in the wilderness + being one of the only survivors who openly admits that what happened to them was traumatizing despite the unspoken agreement to never acknowledge it. lottie, on the other hand, falls so deeply into this role of prophetess that she built in the wilderness that she maintains it into adulthood, creating an entire commune that surrounds her with worshippers so that she can feel connected to people after being isolated and ostracized in her youth, no matter how empty or fickle that connection is

the thing that sets lottie’s connections to misty and natalie apart, though, is that they’re based in the harshest parts of reality that the other survivors tend to look away from: the shared trauma, the innate understanding of one another’s desire for intimacy, and the knowledge that each of them are so fundamentally damaged that they will likely never receive it in anyone but each other. so of course lottie is the key here. she’s the one who proposes the idea of polyamory, likely positing it as a spiritual thing and asserting the importance of the collective (think about how she referred to shauna’s baby as “our baby;” how she acknowledged the wilderness as “just us;” how she’s often speaking in “we”s in both timelines)

misty may initially reject this— despite her desire for a romantic relationship, she’s very much a traditionalist in how she views romance. she has an idyllic perspective on what a relationship should look like, often falling into this dreamy fantasy and imposing unrealistic expectations on the guys she’s interested in. she convinces herself she’s dating ben because, in her mind, it’s a fun, thrilling teenage romance when, in actuality, it’s a nonexistent, one-sided relationship that would be extremely disturbing if it were ever to actually materialize. she even does this with walter, romanticizing him before realizing that he can’t provide her with the emotional support or understanding she actually needs. and i think she realizes this at some point in season 2, on the commune with natalie and lottie and the other remaining survivors who actually do understand her, and that’s when she opens herself more to the idea of polyamory

even though i can see her showing some hesitancy, much like lottie, misty also values the idea of community and would likely open herself up to polyamory more quickly than natalie. where i think natalie’s main issue lies, however, is not with her holding onto some vague idea of monogamy being the “right” way to have a relationship (she was a punk kid in the 90s, trust me she doesn’t give a fuck about that) but moreso with her own commitment issues. i think her issues with her father influenced her in such a way that she began associating emotional intimacy with her dad’s violent outbursts from a very early age. on top of this, her mother seems to have been emotionally distant up until she died, setting a bad example for her from the time she was a young girl that never corrected itself

she’s known to have a lot of hookups in high school and this seems to continue well into adulthood, but there’s a reason they tend to stay as hookups rather than full-on relationships. travis is the closest thing to a real relationship she had and that was far from stable— except for her dynamics with misty and lottie, which seem to not only mimic romantic relationships in the adult timeline (her and misty working together to solve travis’ death, her becoming lottie’s right-hand woman completely unintentionally and “adopting” lisa with lottie) but provide her that sense of stability she can never seem to associate with relationships in both timelines (misty and lottie protecting her from the others in the wilderness, misty and lottie saving her from herself as her addiction/mental health issues spiral in adulthood)

this is also something natalie realizes in season 2 while on the commune— think about how she was initially so wary of lottie, only to give her trust over to her completley. think about how she was initially confrontational with misty, only to be genuinely happy to see and involve her when she joins them. after a while, i think natalie would realize what a critical part of her healing journey letting go of her commitment issues is and ultimately allow herself to be loved and love both of these women; not just from a distance, but as an actual romantic partner

and that is precisely what makes nastylot the most feasible polyamorous relationship out of anyone imo. each one of these girls has something to gain from entering an established partnership with the others, and each of them have a unique, mutual dynamic with both of the others that makes the idea of them entering a relationship entirely believable. i love love love most polyjackets ships but what makes nastylot so compelling to me is its genuine canon basis that a lot of other ships just don’t have

but don’t get me wrong here: i can absolutely meta-ize just about any polyjackets ship involving the main cast. so if anyone has any requests… my ask box happens to be open hehe

[warsofasoiaf]

Opinions on Zohran Mamdani winning the Democratic nomination for NYC Mayor?

I think Cuomo is a disgusting human being, so I'm not sorry to see him lose. That being said, I don't think Mamdani will govern very well and I think he'll largely fail in the vein of Chicago's Brandon Johnson.

Progressive economics is largely a contradiction in terms, and reminds me a lot of MAGA economics (unsurprising in that they are both populist programs) in a few key respects - chief among them being the steadfast belief that all economic woes are the result of the malfeasant activity of an undesirable caste. In MAGA's case, it's usually foreigners and immigrants, and in the progressive case, it's corporate greed. Any economic pain must be the result of actions by this caste. This is a belief that is held true regardless of empirical truth, and the more studies produced that directly contradict it, the more the populists dig themselves into conspiratorial thinking.

Nowhere is this more evident that his absurd proposal for government-run grocery stores. According to the belief, this *must* be because of corporate greed, distress at food prices must be the result of "price gouging" to bleed the poor, hardworking people. The fact that profit margins in grocery stores are among the lowest across all commercial sectors is functionally irrelevant - the people are feeling the pain so the corporations must be to blame. Forget that in poorer neighborhoods in New York City, people primarily get their food from corner stores and bodegas, the majority of which are run by poor immigrants - so this policy will largely compete with them. It has to be because of those price-gouging grocery stores, because otherwise, something else is to blame. If the data doesn't support that conclusion, it doesn't matter. It's the simplification of economic policy to a shallow morality play. Which is a really *bad* place to base economic policy off of.

Similarly, his steadfast support for rent control, which has been overwhelmingly confirmed by economists to be policies that exacerbate housing supplies and increase rents do not functionally matter. The policy has to be to stick it to the evil landlords, because they're part of the undesirable caste. Rent control is popular, but counterproductive. But it does help the politically well-connected who donate to progressive causes. Because it's hard to govern effectively, but it's easy to make a scapegoat.

He's also planning on the standard subsidies to progressive rent-seekers, increasing the overall cost of housing production while not increasing the rate at which housing is built. This is relatively bog-standard fare for progressives; it's actually a big part of the Abundance movement articulated by Ezra Klein that progressives largely pad costs to their political backers via subsidies and counterproductively hamper state capacity.

His foreign policy perspectives do have an underlying alarming quality to it. His support for the Palestine movement is relatively normal by progressive standards, and I believe that there's a large movement on the right who try their best to falsely conflate support for Palestinian nationhood with support for Hamas and PIJ. But for a man who articulates a "universal support for human rights" and yet maintain his membership in the Democratic Socialists of America, who steadfastly produce pro-Putin apologia and minimize Russian genocide of Ukrainian people. This extends to the point where Russia actively brags about using FPV's to hunt civilians in Kherson - it's a genocide pure and simple - yet the DSA *needs* to believe in NATO expansionism myths and mandate the right for Russia to export instability to its near-abroad because otherwise a non-Western nation is a bad actor (shock and horror!). This is a significant problem - normally I wouldn't expect an NYC mayor to have foreign policy positions - but he's decided to have foreign policy perspectives and thus opens himself up to criticism. The simplest explanation of his position is hypocrisy, but I actually don't believe that mere hypocrisy sufficiently explains his positions. The DSA has really twisted themselves into knots justifying Putin's aggression, and the real throughline seems to stem from a place of severe anti-CEE racism, that Central and Eastern Europe deserve the sword for abandoning socialism. This isn't to say that Mamdani believes this explicitly, but that he supports a group that maintains this position and has been so far unwilling to separate himself from it. That he maintains his membership and doesn't so much as make a token statement against it is quite troubling.

-SLAL

[brunhilde-oldest-valkyrie-ror]

⚡ SFW and NSFW Headcanons – Thor x Wife! Reader⚡️ Disclaimer: GIF is not mine credits go to its creator

SFW:

• Y/N is one of the few people who can truly reach Thor emotionally. She’s the calm in the eye of the storm—her presence alone is enough to ease the thunder in his soul.

• When Thor is overwhelmed or introspective, Y/N never pushes. She simply stays close, letting him know she’s there—and that’s all he needs.

• Their home life is surprisingly simple. Thor enjoys slow mornings with Y/N—silent breakfasts, occasional cuddles in fur blankets, and watching her move around the home with soft eyes.

• She often brushes his long red hair for him. He never asks for it, but sits down quietly and waits for her to do it—it’s their quiet love language.

• Thor doesn’t express jealousy outwardly, but gods help anyone who threatens or disrespects Y/N. The air itself will grow heavy, and the look in his eyes alone is enough to make even the boldest warrior back down.

• He’s not verbally affectionate, but he always keeps a hand on Y/N when they’re together. Whether it’s a hand on her thigh, the small of her back, or holding her close—he grounds himself through touch.

• In public, he’s the fearsome God of Thunder—silent, deadly, untouchable. In private, he’ll rest his head in Y/N’s lap, let her trace the scars on his skin, and hold her like she’s more sacred than the heavens themselves.

⚡ NSFW: if you don’t like it you can skip this part MDNI!⚡️

• Thor doesn’t say much—but the way he looks at Y/N during intimacy says everything. His intense gaze while holding her hips or kissing her deeply can leave her trembling.

• He listens to her body, her breath, every sound she makes—and uses it to guide every movement.

• He tries to be gentle, but sometimes Y/N teases him into losing control just a little—and when that happens you’re In for a treat. He’ll pin her down with just one arm, hold her wrists with ease, or lift her like she weighs nothing.

• He’s extremely aware of his strength and always makes sure Y/N is okay—even when he’s being rougher. The aftercare is divine.

• To Thor, Y/N is his goddess. He kisses every inch of her slowly, reverently, and devours her like she’s a blessing from Valhalla.

• If she ever feels self-conscious, he’s quick to shut it down with his hands, his mouth, and the other various ways he can think of making her feel like the most wanted being in existence.

• Thor doesn’t talk much, but the rare things he does say—especially in a deep, low voice—wreck her:

• “Mine.”

• “ Look at me baby.”

• “I’ll never let you go.”

• After he’s done completely ruining her (in the best way he knows how to🤭), he’ll hold her for hours. Big spoon, strong arms, heartbeat like distant thunder in her ear.

• Sometimes he’ll fall asleep with his face buried in her hair or her chest, fully relaxed—because in Y/N’s arms, even a god can’t let go.

Extra: NSFW because why not😌

Thor x Wife!Reader | NSFW | Post-Battle Intimacy | Emotional + Physical Release. Also he’s red your pink I didn’t really know what other color to choose.😓

⸻

The crowd’s roar had long faded. The arena had emptied. The blood had dried.

Thor stood in the private chamber reserved for the gods, his massive form still scarred, chest rising and falling with the slow ache of divine exhaustion. Mjölnir rested against the wall, still humming faintly like a growling beast that hadn’t quite settled. His knuckles were bruised. His back was torn. But his eyes—his fierce, stormy eyes—softened the second she stepped in.

“My love.”

She rushed to him without hesitation, her hands reaching up to touch his face, brushing damp red hair back behind his ears.

“You’re hurt,” she whispered, fingers trembling slightly over a jagged bruise on his cheekbone.

He caught her wrist gently, pressing it to his mouth in a reverent kiss. “I won,” he said quietly. “But I feel like I lost something.”

She understood. The fight against Lü Bu hadn’t just been physical. It had been personal. Brutal. Almost beautiful in its destruction.

“You didn’t lose anything,” she murmured, guiding him to sit on the edge of the bed. “You’re still mine. Still here.”

Thor let her push him down, eyes locked on her like she was the only thing tethering him to this realm. She climbed into his lap, straddling him, cupping his jaw. Her thumb brushed over the blood just starting to dry near his ear.

He leaned forward, foreheads touching, his breath warm and shaky. “Touch me, please my love,” he growled softly. “Make me feel alive again.”

She didn’t hesitate.

Her mouth met his in a deep, consuming kiss—slow at first, tender, until his large hands gripped her hips and ground her against the heavy tension building between them. The god who had just shattered a warrior of Lü Bu’s caliber now clung to his wife like she was the only softness left in the universe.

“Don’t hold back,” she whispered against his lips. “You don’t have to.”

Something snapped inside him—something raw, buried under all that divine composure.

In one fluid motion, Thor flipped her beneath him, his mouth trailing down her neck, across her collarbone, worshiping her with a hunger that had nothing to do with dominance and everything to do with need. His movements were desperate but reverent. He didn’t want to take her—he needed to merge with her, to feel something other than the echo of violence.

Her legs wrapped around his waist as he entered her with a guttural groan, the heat of him filling her completely. She gasped, arching into him, fingernails raking down his scarred back. Every thrust was deep, unrelenting, but full of purpose—like he was trying to erase the battle from his memory and replace it with her.

“Say it my love,” he growled against her throat. “Say you’re mine.”

“I’m yours, Thor,” she moaned, head thrown back. “Only yours. And always yours.”

That pushed him over the edge. His pace grew rougher, each thrust slamming into her with godlike force—but always controlled, always focused on the way she gasped, the way her eyes glazed over, the way her body sang for him.

And when they both shattered together—him with a low, primal growl, her with a cry muffled into his shoulder—it wasn’t the end.

It was the healing.

⸻

Afterward, Thor didn’t move. He just held her. Buried his face in her hair. Let her fingers stroke through the crimson strands of his, steady and soothing.

“You bring me peace,” he said quietly, voice barely audible. “After the chaos… there’s only you my love.”

She smiled against his chest, heartbeat slowing to match his. “Then I’ll always be here—when the storm clears.”

[redhuntressnewtrail04]

The Rebirth of a Queen

I watched the Queen episodes at the same time and it really helped with my perspective of Queen.

I thought that Queen was going to be an egoistical over powered chick, and I'm glad to say I was wrong.

My interest in her peaked when I realized that she inspired not only Cyan and Lou, but she also started a whole movement for female superheroes.

On top of that she is the first character to actively strive to become a hero for the people, not themselves.

Lucky Cyan became a hero by chance and continued to do so to find Lou.

Yang Cheng became a hero by accident and continued to do so to avenge Shang Chao.

Even Lin Ling, the guy who wanted to be a hero, only became one because DOS needed a new Nice.

Which brings me to another character, Bowa.

I was expecting the classic talent vs hard work theme to come up but thankfully X came in and stopped that from happening.

The theme I saw was about how support can lift you up and how isolation can bring you down.

After both Queen and Bowa were defeated by X the aftermath both of them were very different.

Queen was in a serious slump but with the people behind her, she was able to get back up again by focusing on being a hero and trying again, while Bowa was angry and blamed Queen while acting entitled about being X, and not only did she attack a fellow hero but she neglected her duty of being a hero.

I think I need to emphasize that yes, Queen has a Dad that is friends with the boss but it's not like she was handed the number one spot on a silver platter!

On top of that she was facing a scandal of attempting to cheat to win the fight!

Bowa didn't have to deal with that she could have easily done what Queen was doing and went on missions and improved herself but nope, she had to throw a temper tantrum.

Bowa's argument of "being the best by myself" falls apart when you remember she was communicating with someone about info on Queen and was probably going to have that person sabotage the match between them.

She wasn't on her own either and yet she had the audacity to act mad at Queen when she should have been mad at the guy who actually beat her in a fight!

Back to Queen as much as she is low key my current fave I happy X put a brake on her plans.

Queen was about to pull an Alexander Hamilton with how "NON-STOP" she was being.

The lady really needed to stop to smell the roses or something.

Honestly seeing how she grew to be more open with the other heroes like Johnny and Cyan, while still keeping to her goal of being X was great.

My heart broke a little knowing that because of that bitch Bowa she didn't even get the chance to fight.

I'm happy that her company had her take a vacation.

[sir-kettle-of-countertop]

Safety above all else!

FINALLY, definitive edition of Geier's reference sheet I've made for artfight! Styled like an in-universe manual, too! Here's it plus all the written info on the unit - as well as the Corrupted version and the Gestalt neural pattern donor!

Replika Overview and Known Issues

GEIR maintenance guidebook with design details

Corrupted Geier

Neural pattern donor - Emil Ning, with his little sisters and mother

Below the cut: lots of written notes, beware!

General notes:

- Friendly, polite, responsible, selfless and careful, but generally neurotic, anxious and meek. Very secretive and fraternal - whatever happens within a Geier cadre stays within the cadre. Highly protective of people they love, whether platonically or romantically, often failing to see their flaws. While they tolerate a lot of mistreatment towards themselves, they DO NOT tolerate it towards those they care about, and tend to violently lash out.

- Adore all fiction in general, but films the most. They can get uncharacteristically snobby about them. Geiers sometimes come up with stories to tell each other for comfort. Geiers also tend to blow up any rumor they hear way out of proportion, as they change the details to "be more interesting".  

  

- His hair is almost always messy because of the HAZMAT hood. 

- Treat their suits more like clothes than anything, are normally embarrassed to be seen without them outside of their dorms. Depending on their field of work the normal Geier attire consists of either the full suit with the SCBA or the suit without the gasmask and oxygen tank. The belts may be used to attach heavy weights to their backs.

  

- Besides themselves, Geiers get along best with Eules, however they're prevented from interacting with them frequently as they get along along too well, and get too attached. Best "mandated" connections are with Mynahs and (well-trained) Storches.

- Rank-equivalent to a Mynah normally, may act as subordinates to a Mynah if one is attached to lead their cadre on a mission.

Corrupted Geier notes: 

Visual: abscent lower jaw; heavily damaged throat; the left arm is dislocated out of its socket by a huge lump of cancerous flesh and drags on the floor behind Geier when idle - he can still move it, though; corroded and rusted chestplate from constant stream of oxidant and stomach acid; the collar forms jagged "teeth" from corrosion; slits on their face from tear streams; eyes still appear "normal", with a sad and pained look to them.

Behavioral:

- Still have sparks of consciousness and sentience left, to their agony. Instead of being immediately aggressive, they stalk their targets before striking.

- Geiers are very strong normally, but keep their strength under constant restrain. Corrupted Geiers do not.

- Quiet due to heavily damaged larynx, but constantly sob.

- Attempt to still do their jobs past corruption - drag dead bodies, hang around monitoring machinery, patrol hospital wards etc.

On Emil Ning:

While I don't want to reveal too much about him ahead of time (I have plans), in general: he was a smart and hardworking, promising young man successfully accepted to a fairly prestigious university and studying to become an engineer on Rotfront.

However, due to his father's sudden passing and mother's disability, he had to return from Rotfront to Vineta, to help raise his youngest sister, Elisabeth, and provide for his family by working in a factory. From where he insisted he got all his bruises and broken bones from - just "accidents", and all. And didn't have to do with him being an outcast, a "killjoy" who stuck to all the safety rules and raised the production standards expected for his coworkers by overworking himself and a "weirdo" with passion for cinematography.

He had to abandon his dreams over his adult sister, Edith, by societal norms (I think it's fun to think about that in Signalis's universe the gender roles are mostly reversed - so Emil, as a man, is expected to take care of his family first, rather than pursue a career). He had very mixed feelings about it, but he didn't complain.

He loved his family deeply after all. He would not have ever abandoned it under any normal circumstances.

...

and that's the Geier masterpost! I may add to it later especially with more guidebook pages. Insane respect and appreciation if you have managed to sit through this entire wall of a post, dear reader! Any questions appreciated!

[hikarielizabethbloom]

I really desperately (and I mean desperately) wanted Bronwyn as witch-king all throughout s1, so kudos on making it Eärien.

I can't take credit for the idea, only for the fic! 😂

I would be incredibly down with antis not doing the buzzwords thing when it comes to haladriel, so yeah. Let’s make this happen.

I've been saying this since the very beginning. But I feel the need to add a bit of context. (This will be long, but it needs to be written down for posterity.)

I was part of the trop fandom since before the show aired. Haladriel was already a thing during s1, and besides some hate (even though, I don't like using that word for trivial things) from incels, the fandom was really cool. We were all united against them, even if they would attack the shippers/ship.

Around S2, something changed. Suddenly, there were a lot of posts addressing not incels or antis, but everyone in the fandom who didn't share op(s) opinions, that said a lot awful (and frankly out of context because we are talking about dolls here) things. And the situation escalated pretty quickly because after episode 7 of season 2, they began to attack fans in their own lane for expressing different opinions. And it got so bad that a lot of shippers were scared to share their thoughts.

And I know many people actually believe what they're writing. Hell, I agree with some of it. But too often in every fandom, I see fans use big words not just to give themselves a tone, but also to prevent other people from speaking up. Because who wants to be accused of being anti-feminist or whatever (in the best-case scenario)?

Because you can't make a post on Tumblr, tag the show and write a 5000-word essay about how you're so smart and cool, a real feminist, and blablabla while others are ignorant misogynists who hate women, and then act surprised if fans get pissed.

And this is how this whole thing started. And since then, there was an escalation of feminism this, feminist that, you hate women, no, you hate women (with a lot of attacks towards my boy Celeborn and his fans tbf). Which I think is exactly what people who actually hate women want.

And also the constant demands, and this idea that just because YOU like something, then screw everybody else, that thing need to happen on screen. I'm sorry, but I grew up considering a TV show a shared experience, and I would never force others to be subjected to something I like but they don't, especially when it goes against the story's integrity.

I don't know about others, but I'm very chill. I don't consider people who don't like my ships (and express it) or even the show, antis or haters, because at the end of the day, we are talking about unserious matters.

Personally, I like Haladriel, and I've been shipping them since the very beginning. But I don't like this herd mentality. I like to think with my own head, and I don't care whether or not I'm part of the popular group. If there is something I don't agree with, I speak up. I never offend, not even when I'm provoked. And I never get personal. Never.

I'm always open to discussion. Actually, I love them when they are productive and done right.

"I find it necessary for Sauron to demand Galadriel in exchange for a ceasefire in a hypothetical siege of Imladris in S3. Gil Galad and Elrond would object, but Galadriel would give herself up on her own, and Sauron would try to seduce her in his camp tent, forcibly kissing her, and she would punch him splitting his lip. And if Sauron then displays her as a trophy and that turns out to be the first time Celeborn has seen his wife in years, I will be satisfied."

[stupidlittlespirit]

im sorry to hear that you're actively losing your relationship due to being ace.. thats genuinely devastating

it's alright babe, at the end of the day I'll always have this smokin hot bod and this clean bill of mental heal-..... this smokin hot bod!

[avcnturine]

FORGET REVENGE ; SUICIDE IS A DISH BEST SERVED COLD.　♤　penultimate images are hazy behind the eye, having seared themselves into the dead brain like palinopsia grafted in the aftermath of a flashbang. the outline of the doctor's stern face, the angle of that unmoving expression, permanently stuck in disapproval——perfectly etched.

"agh. . . !" he wakes up to pain, a dull and throbbing war drum centered in the left side of his chest, beating rhythmically down upon the ribcage like it's threatening to burst. it's the first indication that he couldn't be dead, or that if there was still any chance he was, anyone professing death to be an afterlife of painless peace would have to be reconsidering their tenets soon.

his bed is one near the middle, on the second row closest to the large observation window. as his knee bends and he fights to sit up, convinced that doing so would lessen the phantom second pulse threatening to burrow straight down through sinew and bone, two things happen. first, the pain does, thankfully, subside, receding to a sullen smarting like the kind a large bruise might leave after the sudden impact of something roughly baseball-shaped against his heart. second, he becomes vaguely aware of a different uncomfortable sensation elsewhere, and with an inconvenienced sigh, shifts the blankets draping his legs with his other hand to borrow their subtlety for the time being.

a party, a gun, a bullet to the heart. he takes in the new surroundings, white again to white, and thinks that he'd almost be led to believe he didn't accomplish anything except knocking himself out for a while if not for the comparatively much larger size of this room and the rows upon rows of identical, medical gurneys. at least a hundred people could fit in here. . .

. . . at least hundred people had been fit in here, he realizes as brain finally processes what the eyes take in ; squinting, he peers closer at the lumps, each of them sheathed like morgue statues under drawn pristine white sheets, undoubtedly in the shape of people. he looks down at his own set, identical to the rest. and then, finally distantly registering a soft exchange of voices not far away, looks to the only upright, moving things in the stadium-sized chamber. "heavens." it's like each of his senses are returning one at a time, taking their time plugging connections into the brain and getting everything gradually back online. whatever they'd been hit with to put them all into that——dream? simulation?——it wasn't just the usual stuff.

right, the people. one, two, three of them, two men and a young woman crowded by the observation window ; on the other side, a scientist. researcher? the name ' ernest cranebill ' comes back again by association, accompanied by a migraine radiating behind his left eye. "ugh. . . " heel of palm presses to temple and rubs in deep, circular motions against the socket, head spinning with disconnected thoughts about consent, clothing, and legal ramifications in that order, none of them finishing before unraveling off into loose thread out of reach.

⋆✦₊‧ — PURGATORIO.

Blade, Mr. Reca, & Kallen. — Revelation 2025 : Research.