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#OK SO i don't go here
polararts · 1 year
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It's a period piece~
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originalartblog · 2 months
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Apparently much-needed reminder that reposting artists' art (by saving the images or screenshotting them and reuploading them yourself) on other platforms without the artists' expressed permission and without credit is theft and an insult to their passion and craft. You are profiting (in views, in attention, in feedback) from someone else's work and ideas, who do not get that feedback for sharing their creation.
If you are an art reposter, you are a thief and I have no respect for you.
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pseudophan · 4 months
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anthony is dead: the funeral roast (paid content)
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greencarnation · 4 months
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eleven is fascinating to me because he came right off the back of tens horrible traumatic breakdown after he lost everything and he immediately tried to establish himself as the opposite of that. he is funny and goofy and almost childlike, and he bulldozes on in his adventures with amy like nothing happened at all. but then something happens and his masks slips and it's like oh! the core of this man is still anger. he is so so angry all of the time and this façade is the only thing stopping him from being consumed by it. he isn't over any of it and he hasn't moved on. he is wearing a fez and laughing but under that all that exists is age old anger and grief and it is going to consume him
#i do think that this pit of anger was eventually covered and soothed by the ponds#but he didn't adress it and he couldn't even look at it until he was twelve#when he stopped pushing back and repressing everything and finally allowed himself to exist as he was#but ok listen#its all layed out in the first 3 episodes of season 5 and in the way amy sees him#episode 1. here is the new doctor he is energetic and reeling and fun#episode 2. the space whale comparison. here is the new doctor. he is unthinkably ancient and almost godlike but he is so so kind#and patient and good. he is ancient and lonely but he can't stand to see children cry. so the doctor helps people#episode 3. daleks. the doctor is a soldier. these are his age old enemies. he wants them dead and he will stop at nothing#all logic and reason vanish. he is hitting the dalek with a pipe and yelling his head off while amy watches in horror#like obviously we know why but amy didnt#this is not a sane or rational man he is unstable and angry#and in that episode he was stripped back to what he largely is: hate#you would make a good dalek ect ect ect#anyway 3 episodes with 3 very distinct and equally definitely traits layed out like: here you go#i don't like elevens era much but those first 3 episodes were great#doctor who#eleven#amy#eleventh doctor#matt smith#dr who#dw#i mean idk this is what river literally had to spell out for him#eleven was careening completely out of control#how long til doctor means warrior indeed?#mine
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vaguely-concerned · 1 year
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Merrill banters I am thinking about all the time always 24/7
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merrill truly will incessantly worry she's stupid and missing the point all the time and then take you out with the most beautifully worded and compassionate breakdown of the thematic spine of DA2 you've ever heard. no actually daisy I think you're the only one getting the point here slowly but surely
especially this one, actually: (also why I could see how bioware would bring merrill into DA:D on solas' side, but also I really really don't want them to because her arc is just -- it's just incredible and I don't want them to mess with it lol)
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'I don't think people are cleansed by fire'. people make mistakes and you have to believe in them anyway. yeah basically that's the thesis of dragon age huh
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yashley · 1 year
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fearne: *is an Animal* imogen: *Gives Scritches*
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pettyloudmuffin · 28 days
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Friendship ended with the "Shut Up and Kiss Me" and "Not Really Listening While Staring Lovingly" tropes.
Now "Listening, Asking Questions and Engaging in An Actual Conversation" is my best friend.
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sleepinglionhearts · 17 days
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Kana may, in fact, be named Kana because it is a simple name but also I know where I started, I'm borrowing that name with great respect u___u
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mamawasatesttube · 19 days
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timcassie is so compelling to me. they were not into each other even a little bit. it was such a messy coping mechanism fuelled entirely by grief. they were making out with each other because they were both substituting each other for kon. cassie was far more aware she was doing this than tim was. unironically, dating a girl here is one of the gayest things tim has done
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muzzlemouths · 9 months
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not to sound desperate on main but since it's disability pride month it'd be really nice to see some art or fics with disabled Y/Ns.
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cozylittleartblog · 1 year
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swatchvember: 90′s, rainy day, sleeping
cramming some of these prompts together to be silly <3 they spent a lot of time back then keeping some rich up-and-coming little salesman entertained, he’s one of their best customers. maybe you’ve heard of him...
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astolfofo · 10 months
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Notes: Slight lapse in judgement moment. (Please comment or reblog with something because I actually dedicated time for this one. I am humbly begging.)
Tw: non-con, gunplay, slight blood play, abusive behaviour, mentions of murder, yandere.
Tagging @yandere-romanticaa on this one, thank you for being the enabler to this (jokingly)
Also on a side note, if you want to listen to something when listening to this, it was inspired by sex with a ghost by teddy hyde, and bo en- pale machine (entire album)
Word count: 4.4K
Dazai had never quite sunken this low before.
He lays down onto the bed, with the gun clattering to the ground. He disregards it as he throws it to the floor, watching it slide across the room. It was useless now, anyways. There were no bullets inside, and it was quite the outdated model, that would be useless against anyone with even the slightest of strength.
All that’s left now is an overwhelming shame. An overwhelming shame that he touched himself, using that weapon for several previous hours, as a means to relieve himself. He feels so disgusted in himself again, as he looks at the rifle, which was now covered in a mixture of his own sweat and cum. It was so disgusting to look at, almost as evidence as to how much he had become a slave to his own desires. Almost as if he was succumbing to some kind of poision that plagued his mind on the daily.
And it didn’t even feel good, he thought to himself. I merely relieved myself enough to clear my mind, if even that.
Dazai looks around the room again. There’s nothing to see, and nothing to feel other than a sick sense of shame. A sense of shame that he decided to touch himself with a gun, while thinking of you. He wasn’t really thinking when he did that, he kind of just did it on impulse, without previous judgement. Yet as Dazai’s eyes dart back to the gun, and his mind drifts to other places. He pictures you cum, and sweat, with a mixture of yours and his cum dripping out of your hole. Your neck is covered with hickeys and bite marks and bruises running down your body. You’re panting, and slightly whimpering from pain, yet you also know he’s the only one who is able to fuck you this good.
He looks down at his cock, which is yet again, hard. He ignores it this time, not wanting to deal with his own arousal, instead choosing to lament over the fact that you were long gone from his life.
But still, he longs for your presence. A person long gone from his life. He longs for you to come back, but you never will.
Dazai shakes his head out of those thoughts, hoping to temporarily think about something else, anything at all that will make prison even slightly more bearable. He looks at the ceiling observing the fluorescent lights, and the solid white ceiling, which reminds him of the situation he’s currently in. Once again, he’s painfully reminded of why he was here. A detainment for ability users, built so they could stay here until they would eventually rot and die. There wasn’t any more to it than that.
He turns on the side again. He doesn’t want to think about that right now, either.
As he lays there, he’s painfully reminded how it’s been two years since you had broken up with him. Not that he was able to keep track of time in prision, but if he were to logically deduce the amount of times he had waken up and fallen asleep, it was about two years since you had broken up with him.
Yet the ghost of your presence haunts him constantly. Even after two years, Dazai had still not gotten over the breakup. No matter how badly he wanted to, he would always come back thinking of you. That you were still there, with him, and not somewhere else. That you still lived with him, that you never ran away from Yokohama, and that he never kidnapped and held you captive. He wanted to imagine that you’d be sitting at home, waiting, wondering where he was, instead of hopping on the nearest train, running away from him.
That you were the same person as who he met you first as, that somewhere at the back of your mind, you still thought of him, at least just a little.
However, he knew all of that was false. You were probably living a normal life again, back in your hometown, maybe with someone else you thought was better for you. Maybe by now, you had recovered from all the injuries he had gaven you over the years, maybe had gone back to the initial person you were, an individual he found so intriguing and rare, that he unwillingly fell for.
He was happy for you, if you were. As happy as he could be, if not exceptionally bitter.
He closes his eyes and imagines you again, how you would look right now, smiling and with some… other guy. It’s not a pleasant feeling imagining you with someone else. Jealousy, envy, and a eerie sort of anger arise in him. No… it’s not anger, he’s not sure what it was. It was closer to an urge to take you away from him, for whatever unknown reason.
Still, you had long ago let go of him, but he’d never let go of you. You had never loved him, but he’d needed you more than man needs air to live. He pictures the scene again, and that possessive feeling comes back again. It felt almost as if the air was being knocked out of his lungs the longer he looked at you and the man together.
You plagued his mind constantly, to the point where Dazai was willing to relieve the pain by almost killing himself with the rifle earlier. Still however, Dazai recognized he needed you as man needs air to live.
Yet he felt rooted in the ground, as his mind went blank again. He felt as if he was fighting a primal urge. He felt as if he was struggling in a room devoid of air, as the helplessness begins to settle down. But he won’t give up, he’ll fight until the very last second to stay alive. All he needs is for that man to be gone. Witnessing so… happy with another man made it feel like every breath he took was poision, and every step he took feel like stabbing his foot. He doesn’t want to see this again.
His vision goes blurry, and then black.
-
Dazai’s now walking down a dark alleyway. He’s not sure where it is, or how he got there, but he feels as if he’s stuck here now. There’s no sense of urgency, rather, a small, creeping sense of paranoia of why or how he’s here. The alleyway feels endless as if he was trying to escape a large maze. He can’t see to the other end of the alleyway, instead, constantly running into dead ends.
He wonders where he is. Was this another dream of some type? He can’t say for sure, it feels too surreal to be reality. But whatever it was, he felt like he was supposed to find something. There was something else in the maze… that was more important than a way out.
You.
At that exact moment, he hears footsteps. He turns around to see you walking in a different direction, at the entrance of the dead end he currently stands in. You’re calm, you look the same as you always did. And he’ll chase after you this time.
Dazai walks as quietly as he could, following you, to wherever you plan on going. You make several turns; one right and three lefts, before you stop at a door. A door that would likely lead you elsewhere, away from him. To somewhere you wanted to go, or needed to go. But that wasn’t the concern. If he let you go through the door, you’d be gone again. Gone forever.
And he’d lose you again. He can’t lose you again.
“Leaving so soon (Y/N)?”
You look at him. You finally turn around and look at him. He can’t tell the exact emotion of your facial expression, but he takes it with relish either way. Your eyes are wide, contorted with fear, yet anger, with some kind of underlying urgency. A urgency to run. Escape the situation.
But Dazai’s faster than you are. As you try to push open the door, Dazai manages to grab onto your arm and push you back first. You gasp for a quick second, and then regain your composure again, glaring daggers into his eyes.
“Let… Let me go you fucking bastard.”
Dazai smirks, “No.”
As on instinct, your breathing becomes shallow and rapid, as your face fills with dread and anxiety. You’re fighting against his grip, trying to break free from the position Dazai has you in, with your arms pinned against the wall, and his knee in between your thighs, keeping you in place. Dazai, on instinct, grips you by the arms tighter, until you feel like there’s no blood going into your hands.
“You were going to leave, weren’t you?” He mutters. “You were going to leave me alone here, and escape. You know I was going to find you either way, right?”
You open your mouth to protest at him, to tell him to fuck off, but nothing comes out of your mouth. Your jaw feels glued shut, it feels paralyzed.
“You can never truly escape from me, no matter how hard you try to forget the days I held you captive. No matter what, you’ll meet me again in some way, some shape, or some form,” he continues. “You should just accept that.”
Your heart is racing. You want to speak, you want to scream, but your brain doesn’t seem to be able to command your body to do these things. You’re struggling. Your hands are still shaking, trying to break free of his grip. You’re doing everything you can just to not give out on the spot, because you know, that Dazai will take you away if you do that. But you can’t win against him either. Not like this.
Your jaw trembles, as you attempt to call for help, scream, see if anyone is there. But Dazai is faster than you. He covers your mouth and you make out a muffled sound instead. “Shh.. don’t scream. There’s no one here to help you anyways.”
His voice sounds so gentle, so soft, it sounds loving, and genuine, if only you didn’t know what he had done to you at all. Dazai was always good at this, you could never say no to him, he always knew how to make your irrational heart win against your logical brain. Even though you could deny it to yourself all you wanted… if Dazai wasn’t so… cruel to you, you would have fallen for him several times over. But he wasn’t.
He was a monster. A monster with a luring personality, and a luring face, waiting for you to fall. Waiting for you to fall so he can posses you wholly. And you would have never known otherwise, until truly understood who and what he was.
“Just let me have my way with you, just this once, yeah?”
He doesn’t wait for your answer. It wasn’t like he was going to listen whether you said yes or no, anyways. No matter what your answer was, he was going to continue with his actions.
And so, he kissed you. As always, they start off so gentle, so tender, that you could believe it was true. That he wasn’t going to be rough with you later on. His sweet demeanor could only last so long before he lost control of himself.
So you were right. Within moments of your lips touching, his kissing instantly became more desprate, as if his life depended on it. Soon, you begin trying to pull back to breathe, but Dazai won’t let you. He’s waited two years, he’s not going to wait any longer.
So you try to breathe through your nose with as much oxygen as you can get. Dazai doesn’t stop, he’s trying to engrain the taste of your mouth inside his brain, he’s trying to make this last forever. It’s what he truly wants.
And so the gentleness that masks him as human is gone now. He’s doesn’t care if you’re struggling to breathe, or if this is all wrong, that he should let you have your own free will. He’s acting as a man who has not seen oxygen in years. A man that has been rejuvenated back into life by your presence.
And so his actions, initially kissing, have now turned into an action so rough, that it was making your mouth bleed slightly. And he doesn’t stop. The blood gets smeared over both your mouths, the taste of the iron stinging your tongue, and the back of your throat. It gets into his mouth too, and smears over both your lips, almost like a lipstick.
And only when it’s like that, does he stop. But you know this is far from done. You know what happens next and you don’t want it to happen. You inhale through your mouth, trying the best to ignore that your mouth is bleeding. You chest heaves up and down, while Dazai watches, wiping the blood off your blood off his mouth, and tasting it.
It’s addictive. It tastes so sweet to him.
Dazai then grips your chin with his index finger and thumb, while running his thumb over your lips. It’s supposed to be an intimate gesture, maybe a slightly romantic one, but you flinched either way.
You had always reacted this way to Dazai’s touch. No matter how many times he touched you, it always felt foreign to you. None of his actions felt they were done purely as of itself. They always led onto to something, often meant to confuse you. You hated it. You couldn’t what he wanted to do when he did certain actions and you always got the feeling he was playing with you for the fun of it, and that was most likely the case, most of the time.
Dazai smears the blood on your face and admires you.
Your face is visibily red, from the aggressive makeout session,, and your hair is discheveled, covering fractions of your face. Dazai brushes those strands away, as he looks at you. In return, you glare at him, feeling slightly grossed out, but in no position to protest. He then lets go of your arms, letting you fall slack against the wall for a second, and the realization hits again. Your heartbeat quickens at that, and you feel the urge to run, again.
Before you can make a move, you’re held in place again, by Dazai’s knee, which held you securely to the wall. You watch in terror as he takes off his coat and tosses it aside, discarded on the floor. No words are exchanged between the two of you, as you stare at him. Dazai moves his hands towards your chest, and starts unbuttoning your shirt as well.
“D-dazai… please stop…” you mutter.
Dazai puts a finger over your lips. “Just relax, and try to enjoy it, okay? I’ll make sure you feel good, and that you’ll never forget this time.”
“N-no that’s not what I mean. I don’t… I don’t want to do this…please…”
“It’s okay, darling. You know you want this, either way.”
The very air around you and Dazai seemed to be suffocating in a way you couldn’t quite say. It was tense, almost like an elastic band pulled to the very limit of what it could do, awaiting to snap at any moment.
And you were angry. Angry at Dazai that he wanted to do this. Angry at yourself for being caught by him. You felt an indescribable rage inside of you for what he had done to you over the years. Yet everytime, he still says he loves you.
Dazai would never let you go.
No matter where you went, he’d always find a way to get you back. You’re the only thing that he has left. The only thing that he truly wants to live for.
But you didn’t want to accept that for yourself. In fact, you couldn’t care less why the stupid bastard was so obsessed with you, to the point where you got sucked into this dream. You use the free hand, and slap Dazai in the face. It catches him off-guard enough for you to run back towards the door and open it. It creaks open, only for his hand to cover your mouth again, pushing you back against the wall, and keeping you in place.
“You’re not leaving.” Dazai snarls into your ear. “Try all you want, but I’m not letting you go.”
You claw at his hand, trying to pry it off.
“Maybe I should fuck you stupid enough, so you never think of doing that again, hm?”
You gaze at him in horror this time, while his hands travel back to your shirt and unbutton it completely this time, letting it fall to the floor. You wince slightly, due to how cold it is in the alleyway. Dazai then moves to your pants and begins unzipping them, and pulling them down to your ankles.
You once again, slightly recoil in disgust of his actions, but in no position to protest or escape. Now, you’re almost naked, left to the mercy of Dazai to do what he likes with you.
Tears sting your eyes. The, what felt like, slow torture of this entire situation felt painful.
Finally, Dazai takes off his pants. He’s painfully hard, and you cringe in disgust about how your fighting, struggling, and even crying aroused him so much.
Dazai moves his hands behind your back, unhooking your bra, and then he moves to your underwear. The last barrier separating you and him. He takes it off, noticing how wet it really is, and then tossing it aside too.
“My, my, (Y/N). You were that wet from just kissing? I thought you didn’t want this at all.”
“I-I don’t.”
“But your body does. You may deny it all you want, but your body yearns for me. You’ve been leaning into my touch ever since we met. Sure, you’re disgusted in what I’m doing, but do you want to know what your body thinks?”
A pure look of anger which slowly changes into fear fills your face. Dazai leans into the crook of your neck.
“It’s nice to be held be Dazai, isn’t it? You can’t change biological desire. And I think… you know I understand that better than anyone.”
And so, Dazai turns you onto your back, and pushes his entire cock inside of you. You hiss from the sudden intrusion that felt all to familiar and foreign at the same time.
And it reminds you of how painfully well he knows you, yet how little you know him.
And you feel his hands grab onto your hips, and he begins bouncing you up and down on his length, never failing to hit that place inside of you that sent sparks of pleasure up your body.
And he wasn’t being gentle this time, too. If he had been going any faster than he already was, you were sure it would have hurt more than brought pleasure to you.
And he repeats these actions, over, and over. It’s always been that way. Yet your mind felt like it was still melting from the actions. You can’t help it. You can’t help yourself. It feels so good, and you know only Dazai can do this to you.
You almost have to bite back on moaning as he constantly hits that spot. You refused to give him that satisfaction.
Dazai seems to notice this as well. “Don’t hold back. You know I’ll get what I want in the end, anyways.”
Your breath hitches. You knew that. But you didn’t want to give Dazai the satisfaction of having all power over you. But that was all slowly becoming impossible as you came to the realization that physically, you had always wanted Dazai carnally, your mind just believed otherwise.
And as Dazai pushes you down particularly hard that time on his cock, you can’t help but loudly squeal at how good it really felt. It felt mind-numbing lay good. You enjoyed the pain, all too well.
Dazai smirks against your neck again, knowing that he had gotten you in a state where he has all the power. He leans into your neck. He bites down on the flesh, hard enough to draw blood. He licks at the blood enjoying the taste.
And at this exact moment, your hole clench around him too, signalling that you were close to your high.
Dazai groans slightly, taking in the pleasure of the feeling. But he was never kind enough to let you reach your high on the first round.
And he wasn’t going to be kind this time, either.
He bounces you on his cock at a more rapid pace, as your moans get higher and higher, until your cunt is clenching around him tight enough that he almost felt like you could snap his cock off.
And to think you didn’t like it? It made him scoff.
Dazai feels himself chasing his high too. It had been so long… since he had last done this. He felt fulfilled. He felt like he, himself, were on cloud nine, all his previous emotions relieved, instead a dark sort of pleasure replacing any previous emotions.
You’re no different yourself. Despite your anger and hatred towards him, even from one look at your eyes, he could tell you were craves this in a carnal way as well. And for miles around, only the slapping of skin, combined with wet noises, and moaning could be heard. There was no need for anymore than that.
But then it all stops. You look at him in confusion, whining slightly, as he pulls out. Dazai never let you come the first time. He would reduce you to a whining, brainless, mess before allowing you to cum. Only to let you cum so many times, that you wouldn’t even be able to walk the next day.
Yet as for himself, he would cum countless times, until your holes were filled with him, and until your body was covered in it. His cum.
You wince at the gross sticky sensation between your legs again. You feel Dazai’s cum running down your thigh, and it feels disgusting. Normally, you’d yell at him for him to pull out, but right now, your mind was too hazed with other things to care.
“You think you get to cum on the first round after acting like that?”
You don’t respond, trying to get rid of the feeling of being so empty.
“You’re really that desperate, aren’t you?”
You still don’t respond, breathing heavily. Your mind is numbed again, still trying to recover from the myriad of sensations hitting you. Your mind is still hazy with lustful desire.
Dazai sighs, “I suppose I’ll just have to make you cum over, and over, and over, until you can’t anymore.
Your eyes slowly widen again, as you stare at him. “No…. No… please anything but tha-“
“Shh… shh… it’s okay belladonna. You’ll feel so good at the end of it. Promise.”
“No please… Dazai, I didn’t mean it like that. Please, please… it’ll hurt….”
Dazai caresses your face. It’s a gentle, tender action that you want to lean into. But you know it feels more like a nurse preparing you for a needle. A very painful needle that would scar you your arm, that would make you look in shame for the rest of your life.
He kisses you, again, and you have no choice to accept what he gives you.
-
Dazai looks at you. You’ve came more times than he could actually count, to the point where you weren’t even conscious anymore. You’re covered in cum, sweat, and scratch and bruise marks. A mixture of yours and his cum drips out of your hole, and he takes the sight in with a sick sort of satisfaction.
He’ll a,ways love you. In his own sick, twisted way. Every step he takes, every breath he takes. He’ll do it all for you. You don’t belong to anyone else. You’re his, only his.
No matter how far you go, you’ll always be pulled back to him.
He picks you up, and kisses you on the forehead. You look so peaceful.. sleeping. He drapes his jacket over you, and puts his clothes back on.
“Let’s go home now, shall we Belladonna?”
He walks out of the alleyway, his footsteps echoing throughout the walls.
—-
One light flickers.
Static fills Dazai’s ears. He opens his eyes. He sits up disoriented, looking around at his surroundings.
That’s right.
He’s still in prison, he’s still detained in this room, and he forever will be. Until he tries to escape. Until there’s a way out of this, he‘ll just have to stay here, and hope for the best. At this moment, he remembers why he was here in the first place.
He turns on his on his back again. The desolate ceiling mocks him.
But his mind doesn’t want to think about that now. That dream he just had…. It felt so surreal yet real at the same time. He wonders if you were actually there, or if it was just a figment of his imagination.
There’s an obvious answer to that question, though. It’s not even worth asking.
You’re gone. Forever. He doesn’t even know where you are. You don’t know where he is either.
He thought of that dream just to relive his own desires. There’s nothing more to it. Everything is still the same. Yet, he couldn’t help but feel some delusional hope that something was different today.
But he should crush that hope before disappointment gets to him again.
Just then, there is a knock in the door. He wonders who it is. As he walks towards the door, he wonders why the prison guards are bothering him. Yet again. It wasn’t like he had done anything over the previous days.
He twists the doorknob, thinking about what he’s going to say this time. Maybe he’ll even punch them in the face.
However, as he pulls the door back, it’s not what he expected at all.
No… maybe being hopeful worked, for once. Maybe the dream was to tell him something.
It’s you.
You’re here.
And if looks could kill, he would just be about dead now.
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daily-hanamura · 4 months
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#p4#persona 4#hanamura yosuke#yosuke hanamura#EVERYDAY IM HOWLING. EVERYDAY IM SCREAMING.#for context this comes at the heel of yosuke charging at mitsuo kubo in rage because of his flippance towards killing saki and he's hit har#but souji and kanji jump in to protect him#like ok a lot of things going on here such as the obvious OH MY GODDDD yosuke being yosuke and taking things on for himself#because he doesn't want to bother people?? because he's made it his own responsibility? because his survivor's guilt is still lingering?#i mean don't tell me he doesn't look at how he surrendered to his shadow like apart from his self-sacrificing propensity#i low key feel like everytime yosuke demands answers about saki's death from the murderer/god/etc there's this undertone of how#he would rather it have been him#he cheapens his own life so much and for what#BUT ALSO!! ALSO!! not just souji jumping in because we know he would he's down bad for yosuke BUT ALSO KANJI#listen you've all heard me talk so much about how i adore kanji yosuke friendships#i can't really tell whether it's kanji or souji that says “haven't we earned your trust yet” but it's a line that hits SO HARD#regardless of which one of them was saying it and i think it hits hard in slightly different manners#it's kanji's admiration and how he looks up to yosuke and how he wants to be closer to yosuke as a friend/kouhai/whatever you want#tatsumi “who's your partner now!” kanji has so much respect for yosuke he wants yosuke to rely on him too!!!#and this stands out because kanji is very conscious of social hierarchies and such but as a kouhai as yosuke's junior#he's so specific about wanting yosuke to treat him as an equal#i smtimes feel bad for kanji because he has a bit of that vibe of a poor puppy trailing after souyo because he wants to be in their convos!#he wants to be included! but critically he also just! wants them to SEE him!!#going a lil off tangent but i think kanji's attitude towards souji is very much one of kouhai respect like he understands his place#of like deferring to souji or getting advice from him and just generally regarding him as a reliable mentor#and it's the same with chie and yukiko? but idk man. with yosuke. guys. with yosuke i always feel like kanji wants to break that hierarchy#that convention. that social norm. to cross a line and be closer to yosuke.#he's more willing to tease yosuke in a way he doesn't with the other 2nd years. and this isn't coming from a place of disrespect either#AGAIN. KANJI REALLY LIKES YOSUKE. he wants to protect yosuke!!! he jumps at the opportunity for yosuke to rely on him!!#i'm getting delulu but there's those hints of “yosuke senpai i want you to see me as a man!!!” kind of energy here and i'm it's yknow hmm
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filmnoirsbian · 4 months
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The thing w the silly "no one does anything on this site" poll post that makes it so funny is that people TALK on here like they do things and then just...don't. And it's fine to not do things! But when someone who has never had sex talks about being a slut or someone who does not interact with their local lgbt community in real life calls themselves a "queer elder" it's just funny to me idk. Not just the "no one does anything" site but the role playing site. But instead of pretending to be a kickass centaur you're pretending to have an offline social life.
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lovedeltaa · 9 months
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thinking about my little meow meow
sol emeralds and sol energy fucking her up 😱
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vaguely-concerned · 1 year
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I'm playing through Dragon Age 2 again and I just can't get over how... idk how to say it exactly, but the way you feel, in every moment of this game, how much Varric loves Hawke. It feels entwined with everything, it breathes through every part of the narrative, it blooms diegetigally through the integration of story and gameplay, makes you a co-conspirator in that love in a way maybe only a video game could.
It's in the way I don't think this story is a defense of Hawke only -- or even primarily -- directed at Cassandra, but at Hawke themselves. Beneath everything else going on there's the quiet, utterly unshakable refutation of Hawke's worst fears: Did you think you mattered, Hawke? Did you think anything you ever did mattered? . . . You're a failure, and your family died knowing it. Rising through the story as Varric tells it there's a fiercely tender voice saying: Yes, you did matter. In tragedy or in triumph, for better or for worse, in love or in hate, you always mattered. The ultimate tragedy of Hawke is always right there in the open before the story even starts letting you in on telling it; they couldn't fix anything. They couldn't stop the downward spiral Kirkwall was set on -- the real truth is that no one person ever could. And yet the point of DA2 is that it matters that they tried, and it matters that there were people who loved and were loved along the way, however badly it all failed in the end. Hawke is the Bioware protagonist who succeeds the least, and they're the character who matters the most, to me. (This is also why the Absolution reveal did not shake me in the least haha, my love for Hawke has nothing at all to do with whether they succeeded or failed at anything.)
What Varric is saying, in the only way he seems to be able to say the really real things -- through stories -- is so simple and so fundamental. You were here, and I loved you. There's the emotional heart of it, at the end of it all, that love and grief and recognition. It's so dizzyingly intimate. There's so much distancing, layers upon layers of obfuscation, to be able to say it. It drives me insane!!!! It makes me feel the same way that 'Poem' by Langston Hughes does:
I loved my friend.  He went away from me.  There's nothing more to say.  The poem ends,  Soft as it began,— I loved my friend. 
He loved his friend. They went away from him. What more is there to say. (Many, many, many things, when you're a compulsive liar and storyteller, but hey sometimes you have to deploy a whole armada of lies to tell one simple truth, I understand, I'm a writer too lol)
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