#Read my end-notes for information on safety

[thatonebirdwrites]

The Grimorie post I did is now on AO3 with another spell added in for fun! Enjoy!

EXCERPT:

Purification Ceremony (Attempt 2)

Hyssop (for Purification and Protection)

Sloe (for Exorcism and Protection)

Holy Thistle/Blessed Thistle (Purification and Hex-breaking)

Mix and place in satchels. One teaspoon of each herb cut and diced poured into the felt square. Gather all four corners and fold them together to create a sack, then tie together with twine or white string. While performing this action, recite the following:

"Drive out all evil, Break all hexes, purify all spaces, and protect all who enter."

Once satchel is completed, tie to each door and window. Replace after a month. Replace immediately if they get wet.

Note to self: If I don't recite the spell as I make the satchels, then my magic doesn't seem to infuse them and they end up being weird smelling bags. Not useful. Thus, I've learned to recite as I make these satchels as the creation of the charm bags seem to be part of the spell beyond just the words. I also notice that I can use either Irish or Latin for this, though I am unsure how to detect which language is more powerful than the other. Also, if the satchels get wet, they start to smell terrible, so regardless of whether the magic still works, I won't be keeping them up.

Results:Tying the satchels to all entries points to the home seems to do the trick. I feel no weird unknown flickers of power in my space, and it creates a better smelling location. After a month of testing this spell, I have had a lot less issues using magic, and less spells backfired on me. Before I did this spell, I often had explosive or unintended consequences to spells I tested, even ones I know to work, which I suspect was due to me failing to properly purify the area. This ceremony seems to do the trick.

Note from Kara: Lena! It makes your lab and apartment feel cozy. Like a blanket that is warmed by you. Like your magic hugs me when I enter. Voi, it's voi!

Note from Lena: I looked up Voi in your Kryptonian dictionary. Safety, secure. That is a lovely thing to say. However, I don't see how I can show the causation since your experience is subjective.

Note from Kara: Set up an experiment by having the satchels set in the entryways and windows, then bring people into the area and ask them questions. Tally up their answers and see if they correlate? It's a social experiment that way, and it's in a controlled environment.

Note from Lena: Huh. That... might actually work. Thanks. Also, why are you writing in my Grimorie?

Note from Kara: You left it open on the table. And I want to help!

Note to self: Don't leave Grimorie open on the table with Kara in the room.

Read rest here.

[batsplat]

"I must say that it is very difficult to have good relations when you fight for the same thing, as I fought with Sete. The trigger was what happened in Qatar in 2004. What happened in Qatar 2004.. I saw it as something dirty that I didn't expect neither from Sete, nor from Juan Martinez, who was his technical manager and who had worked with me for a long time. I felt betrayed because it was as if I was being played. Sete was a great rival and when you fight like that it's a bit like Michael Jordan says, it's something personal. With Sete what happened in Qatar made me very angry and it helped me to give my best until the end of that season and for the next one. If I had to give Sete some advice... it's better if he hadn't done it." here's the bit from route46.. i find it interesting he puts blame on juan martinez too!

(following on from this post, and will liberally include chunks I wrote in the sete post) right there's a lot to unpack here, but first of all. I haven't gotten around to watching the whole documentary yet, but I did quickly jump around to find the sete bit the quote is from and... and there is something I absolutely have to address first. because. uh. they actually interview juan martinez - sete's crew chief himself - about the whole qatar incident... and, well. he says the following (rough translation):

At no time did either Sete or I go ask for a sanction for Valentino: we went to ask for greater security for everyone. Once we go to HRC and passed on the knowledge, that we have found a Valentino technician on the track, thus modifying the state of the track, Honda decides that moment what really needs to be done is a complaint.

hold on. just one second. I did suspect there had to be something incredibly stupid at the heart of the whole thing. something that could reconcile all the contradictory information out there, help explain how everyone could feel so confident in their contradictory views. because the whole thing should have a relatively straightforward answer, right: either sete played tattletale or he didn't. and... I mean. okay, look. I'm not saying I'm with valentino on this one but... they did snitch! objectively martinez is admitting they snitched! it happened! either this was a moment of staggering naivety because what did you think hrc was going to do with this information?? or valentino was spot on and they passed on that information knowing that it was at least a possibility valentino was going to get a penalty as a result of their actions. surely it is possible to appeal to hrc on safety grounds without bringing up you saw valentino's technician on the track, who was at the time quite possibly acting quite suspiciously under the cover of night! why are you even going to hrc about this in the first place!

you do not have to be that paranoid a soul to maybe doubt whether they had the best of intentions here, no? what this would also help clear up is sete's response at sepang when asked to deny his involvement, which. I did find it an odd response! you kind of want to give the benefit of the doubt with these things, given sete's longstanding and genuine preoccupation with safety in the sport. that being said, rather than just firmly deny he was involved, he went on this long spiel about how he would've thought it'd be better for everyone to get their grid spots cleaned - and the crux of his argument amounted to how he'd be a hypocrite if he called for valentino to be sanctioned after that. which, why are you even focused so much on this - just say no, you weren't involved! look, it was better to err on the side of caution and maybe simply assume sete isn't the most skilled operator in denying allegations of gamesmanship. but this extra detail would make sete's response in that sepang presser read a little differently:

yeah, sure, I mean, if we're going to be generous here and say sete and his crew chief just innocently mentioned to hrc that valentino's technician was rubbering up his grid slot for 'safety reasons'... then nothing sete says here is technically a lie. he didn't "complain" and it was hrc who made the protest. but. but! it does feel like if sete and his crew chief really were the ones to alert hrc to what valentino's team had done... if what martinez says is actually correct, this whole incident does still read pretty differently! you know how sete says "they" had blocked him from cleaning the grid? it feels like a pretty reasonable assumption that the "they" in question refers to hrc. if hrc blocked sete from rubbering his own grid and he then went to tell them about what valentino had done, did he really expect honda to go 'oh that's all right then, I suppose we'd better rubber up your grid slot too'? seriously? (incidentally, do we think the mechanic who gave evidence was martinez himself)

juan martinez does also go on to say this:

What he does in the end or what he has always done, that's what he does, is turn his story into his truth, which gives him his motivation and that's it. It doesn't mean that it's the truth, it means it's Valentino's truth. The fact that it is his truth or that it is my truth about some things does not mean that it is the truth. When you are fighting for something in sports, there is a moment that you lose sight of the complete picture.

which, yes, this isn't terrible as insight into valentino's character, and mayhaps we can return to this at a later date. but, also, can I just say, if you go! to hrc! to tell them the man they hate! who you are engaged in a tight championship fight with! which has only FOUR ROUNDS TO GO! has maybe had his team do something a little sketchy! and then hrc ensures he gets a penalty for it! come on. specifically after you've been blocked from doing the same thing? could you really not have expected that hrc would go on to file a complaint with race direction? seriously?

incidentally, valentino did already pin the blame on martinez at the time:

well, you can still give sete the benefit of the doubt here I suppose, if you so choose. still, is valentino really just 'telling a story here and turning it into his truth'? the generous interpretation of what happened here is that sete accidentally helped cause a back of the grid penalty, and that's the generous interpretation! hey, maybe martinez is getting his story wrong, maybe he's lying, you never know. but let's just say for a moment that this is the truth... let's just that martinez and sete really did pass on this information with innocent intentions in the name of safety. would this not still make sete's rhetoric after the event a teensy bit disingenuous? it's one thing to say 'yeah this was a misunderstanding, hrc was out for you and we accidentally helped provide the material they needed to bag you a penalty'... it's quite another to say valentino fabricated this whole thing out of thin air, like you had absolutely zero involvement in the whole thing. was this really a feud valentino just invented out of nowhere?

anyway, enough motogp-flavoured true crime investigation... and listen, I do want to reiterate what I said here:

let's be clear here - even if sete did have some involvement in the penalty, obviously valentino's response to the whole thing is still a bit bonkers. like, it's definitely petty behaviour from honda. given the whole 'using a scooter to rubber up the track' does seem like it was at the very least a bit of a grey area in the rules, hrc getting valentino penalised for it is... well, it's all pretty undignified from everyone involved. that being said, valentino did vow to destroy sete and spent the next one and a half seasons tormenting him. some people would consider that a little bit of an overreaction, even if the whole thing wasn't based wholesale on delusion. at the end of the day, he did still do all that stuff

so, anyway, let's get into it! going to go all in here and tackle this shit line by line:

"I must say that it is very difficult to have good relations when you fight for the same thing, as I fought with Sete."

right, so this is obviously a commentary on his natural understanding of how rivalries work... how he believed his relationship with sete was destined to change as a result of how, starting in 2003, they were directly competing. this gels with the limited mentions we get in his autobiography of sete in 2003, which were coloured by how he believed sete had already been praying on his downfall before their actual friendship break up (here and here):

what valentino is saying here is basically a slightly more concise version of what I put in the sete post:

and, yeah, this is a natural element of competition - it's generally accepted that maintaining friendships at the sharp end of professional sports with your competitors is either extremely difficult or straight up impossible. (like marc put it in august 2015: "it's true that before the relationship was different, but because we were not fighting for the championship. it's not the relationship like a friend".) obviously there's still a fairly significant difference between 'friendship' and 'good relations' (and 'actively feuding'). but valentino is acknowledging it is just kinda part of the game... something he's willing to exploit if need be (see here for speculations on how the sete feud changed valentino's approach to rivalries in general). it was always going to be tough for that relationship not to go downhill, and valentino accepted as much. he was also clearly a lot more ready for it to come to that than sete was

"The trigger was what happened in Qatar in 2004."

there's always something interesting about what incident parties identify as the turning point in these rivalries. with sete/valentino, you could reasonably point to three different episodes:

assen 2004: last lap overtake resulting in contact that left sete 'angry', though publicly he turned the page pretty quickly. the first obvious public sign of tension between the pair

qatar 2004: for obvious reasons. the allegations of gamesmanship that made valentino openly turn on sete and end any cordial relations between the two of them, let alone friendship

jerez 2005: the most contentious on-track incident between the pair of them that continues to be infamous for the final corner contact and the post-race theatrics

valentino, when he talks about this rivalry, does seem to always go for qatar. yes, he's talked about jerez, but he doesn't bring it up when he's asked about the relationship between the pair of them. the sample size here is admittedly pretty small, but he answered in a similar way in 2015:

sete, by contrast, is generally more hung up on jerez. he's mentioned qatar a few times when commenting on how valentino had suddenly switched up towards him, but more often than not it's jerez. part of this is just... well, he's really focused on the moral injury aspect of what happened at jerez, where he feels very strongly he was wronged - and even more than that, that the incident set a bad precedent. he discusses valentino a bit in that three hour podcast episode he went on and it's basically entirely focused on that last lap corner

which, you know, if somebody manages to successfully 'put a curse' on you, I do get why this probably isn't the bit of the story you want to bring up by your own volition. it's also the kindest narrative to sete - because if it's all about his jerez, then his decline in that rivalry is more about a moral stance than it is about valentino successfully crushing his spirit

that's the thing, right... both of these choices of turning points, qatar and jerez, represent something to the two parties, and both narratives flatter the person telling them in some way. in both cases, it's about their rival doing something that's unacceptable, immoral, 'dirty' in some way... they're accusing each other of stepping outside of the bounds of what is 'acceptable' behaviour for competitors. they're accusing each other of not playing fair, of not playing the game like it should be played. this is what makes the dissolution of their friendship acceptable too, right - it's not just that they're rivals, it's not just the heat of competition or whatever, it's that their enemy did something wrong. this isn't just normal competitive tension that caused their relationship to fall apart, it's foul play

now, look, I'm not going to make some ultra contrarian argument about how it's all actually about assen 2004, This Race Clash Is The One Nobody Is Talking About... BUT this was the first public incident in which sete failed to act graciously in defeat and valentino verbally noted as much. clearly the relationship was a bit strained already headed into qatar. see the autobiography quotes, see assen... also. well. check out what valentino said at the time at qatar (from here):

"I've been looking for an excuse not to talk to sete"... this doesn't necessarily contradict how valentino frames qatar as the "trigger" - the word itself acknowledges that there was something already there just waiting to be 'triggered'. in what truly is one of the all time great presser questions, the above quote is actually put to valentino in sepang with sete sitting right next to him

good vibes!

unfortunately he doesn't really clarify what he meant here, just saying something along the lines of 'well it's a new week now'. anyway, you can interpret the initial valentino quote in several different ways. you could say he was just searching for an opportunity to engineer a feud with sete and was willing to seize on any opportunity, however flimsy. or you could say valentino had already grown suspicious of sete - presumably as a result of several past incidents between the pair of them. the stuff vale mentions in his autobiography about how sete had been predicting him to fail at yamaha, what happened at assen... again, it's the idea that sete covets what valentino has, that he's been performing graciousness - perhaps, from assen onwards at the latest, a little less successfully so. perhaps valentino just wanted to create a little more distance between the two of them for his own sake, make it easier to fire up his competitive juices - and that's what he needed an 'excuse' for. or perhaps what valentino meant was something along the lines of 'I suspected he was a snake and now he proved it'. whatever it was, it must have been enough for valentino to be ready to pull the pin on that particular friendship. so yes, qatar is the trigger. even if it triggered something that had already been festering for a much longer time

"What happened in Qatar 2004... I saw it as something dirty that I didn't expect neither from Sete, nor from Juan Martinez, who was his technical manager and who had worked with me for a long time."

okay I already discussed the descriptor of 'dirty' for sete's actions. it's something underhanded, it's something valentino doesn't like - snitching on your rivals as a dishonest way of beating them. athletes can build up incredibly convoluted frameworks of what they consider acceptable and unacceptable behaviour, and a lot of the time it is self-serving bullshit.... but it can be self-serving bullshit with an internal logic of sorts. like, this is the thing right, is going to race direction to play tattletale inherently morally so much worse than various valentino behaviours he openly admits to? eh. but for him, he sees this as a fundamentally 'dirty' and ugly way of trying to win. the stuff he does is fair game, but going around trying to find obscure rules that might not even technically exist to fuck over your rival is not okay. that's not how you should fight to win

the martinez angle has also already been mostly covered above... I was aware they'd worked together before martinez moved to the gresini team (while valentino was still at honda by the way, this wasn't a case of martinez choosing against jumping ship to yamaha when valentino left) - but it's still nice to get the confirmation that they'd worked together for a "long time". obviously, this is a fun element of 2004 in general, the extent to which valentino's sworn enemies are all the people he was working alongside in previous years, how vicious the break up had been. this was also in itself a nice source of motivation, and initially that season was as much about spiting honda as it was spiting his specific rivals who had been so wedded to the narrative that valentino was on the superior bike. though it should be noted valentino wasn't disillusioned with, like, the honda rank and file, mechanics and so on - more with honda management and the engineers. here from his autobiography:

and martinez himself was also a suspension technician in valentino's team. which, yeah, valentino feels hurt on a personal level! this is somebody he had worked with and trusted who has (allegedly) decided to do something so underhanded specifically to spite valentino! from the same autobiography excerpt as above:

rivals are one thing, you've kinda gotta expect the worst, but he does take this type of relationship very seriously. presumably it really twisted in the knife for him, this notion that one of his former team members was willing to do something this 'dirty' to him. valentino didn't expect it! not from sete and not from somebody he'd worked with for years! that's the bit that made it unforgivable, the previous personal relationships that valentino felt weren't being honoured

(incidentally, juan martinez actually ended up being nicky hayden's crew chief... during his time at ducati, where of course hayden would be reunited with valentino for two years as teammates. bit awkward!)

"I felt betrayed because it was as if I was being played."

see above, not much more to add. that's what it often comes back to for valentino, isn't it. a lot of stuff is acceptable, it's just part of the game, rivalries are supposed to be feisty and fierce and a little bit ugly. but this? again, a lot of this is about internal frameworks that athletes have for what is seen as acceptable and not acceptable within competition. valentino deploys a rather liberal definition of what should be allowed both on and off the track, but this is a hard line for him. he'll accept a lot, but not what he considers betrayal. something else that remains consistent throughout his career, including as it pertains to a certain other rivalry

"Sete was a great rival and when you fight like that it's a bit like Michael Jordan says, it's something personal."

michael jordan mention, interesting in its own right! someone who's been compared to valentino in his ruthlessness and, well, cruelty (though some of the stories about jordan make valentino look like an angel lbr). a little bit of commentary to be made there on what greatness in sports generally looks like, and how it does often involve some... hm. pretty unsavoury behaviour. the two of them have actually met a couple times, in valencia 2004 where valentino took him for a ride and laguna 2005 where they partied together after the race

obviously, it's a little funny this meeting happened at valencia 2004 of all occasions, at a time in which valentino was really finding his groove where psychologically torturing his rivals was concerned. there's always something heartwarming about athletes drawing inspiration from each other, no? but anyway, coming back to what valentino actually said here - "it's something personal". just in case anyone's unfamiliar, what this is referring to jordan's habit of drawing competitive inspiration from what he saw as personal slights (there's several compilations out there of jordan using phrasing along the lines of 'it became personal with me', if anyone wants to look it up). sete inspired valentino to up his game because valentino did increasingly take it personally when sete thwarted him - and at a certain point, valentino decided that defeat was no longer acceptable at all. the best way possible to fire himself up... take it personally, and be prepared to do whatever it takes to make his enemy's life hell

"With Sete what happened in Qatar made me very angry and it helped me to give my best until the end of that season and for the next one."

well, yes! I talked a little bit here about the parallels between marc and valentino in how they use anger to motivate themselves, mainly in the context of argentina 2018. and from valentino's autobiography:

anyway, excluding the qatar fiasco itself where he lost his temper, it's fun that he acknowledges explicitly here that the anger provided him with a good source of competitive fuel. note also the time span - the last three races of 2004 as well as the entirety of 2005. sete wasn't really a title rival any more in 2005, not after jerez, but he was still a serious on-track threat... if your goal isn't just to win the title but also to prevent sete from winning a single further race, then sure, he's still very relevant! so that rivalry was still a big part of his competitive make-up a full year after sete could no longer seriously challenge him for a title, and valentino does have enough self-awareness to consciously take advantage of that fury when he can. he probably never did that better than in 2005... his brain controlled his fury - and at every single opportunity he used it to beat sete further into submission

"If I had to give Sete some advice... it's better if he hadn't done it."

iconic banger line. evil laugh afterwards. 10/10 no notes

[whumptober]

Whumptober 2023

Welcome to Whumptober 2023 — the sixth year running!

COMPLETIONISTS/PARTICIPANT BADGES CAN BE FOUND HERE

To those of you who participated last year, welcome back! To everyone joining this year, welcome!

Please make sure to read the Event Info carefully, as most of your questions will be answered there already. For everything else, you are welcome to come to our ask box or ask questions in our Discord server here.

This year’s AO3 Collection can be found here.

And this years playlist can be found here.

There are 139 prompt options in total this year - this is including the alternatives list! A special thanks goes out to those who took part in our trope vote back in July. From the 1526 responses to our list of 223 tropes, we looked through the popularity results, as well as your honourable mentions, and were able to produce this years prompts list. Stay tuned, as we will be posting some of the results at a later date!

We’re very excited to see the community come together once more and be a wild, chaotic bunch of creators and consumers of whump. Go wild with the prompts, and support your fellow creators - we wish you all the fun!

Best of luck and happy whumping,

Mods Vanne, Yenn, Kitty and Surro

(All 31 Themes + Prompts, Event Information and FAQs are posted below the cut!)

Whumptober 2023 Prompt List

No. 1: “But now this room is spinning while I’m trying just to fill in all the gaps.”

Safety Net | Swooning | “How many fingers am I holding up?”

No. 2: “I’ll call out your name, but you won’t call back.”

Thermometer | Delirium | “They don't care about you.”

No. 3: “Like crying out in empty rooms; with no-one there except the moon.”

Journal | Solitary Confinement | “Make it stop.”

No. 4: “I see the danger, It’s written there in your eyes.”

Cattle Prod | Shock | “You in there?”

No. 5: “You better pray I don't get up this time around.”

Debris | Pinned Down | “It's broken.”

No. 6: “Do or die, you’ll never make me; Because the world will never take my heart.”

Recording | Made to Watch | “It should have been me.”

No. 7: " “I paced around for hours on empty; I jumped at the slightest of sounds.”

Alleyway | Radio Silence | “Can you hear me?”

No. 8: “I’ve got soul, but I’m not a soldier.”

Overcrowded ER | Outnumbered | “It’s all for nothing.”

No. 9: “Learning everything ain't what it seems, that's the thing about these days.”

Polaroid | Mistaken Identity | “You're a liar.”

No. 10: “Can’t you see that you’re lost without me?”

Broken Phone | Stranded | “You said you'd never leave.”

No. 11: “All the lights going dark and my hope’s destroyed.”

Animal trap | Captivity | “No one will find you.”

No. 12: “I haven't slept in days but who's counting?”

Red | Insomnia | “I’m up, I’m up.”

No. 13: “It comes and goes like the strength in your bones.”

Cold Compress | Infection | “I don’t feel so good.”

No. 14: “Feed me poison, fill me ‘till I drown.”

Flare | Water Inhalation | “Just hold on.”

No. 15: “I don't need you to help me I can handle things myself.”

Makeshift Bandages | Suppressed Suffering | “I’m fine.”

No. 16: “Would you lie with me and just forget the world?”

Gurney | Flatline | “Don’t go where I can’t follow.”

No. 17: “You’re the lump in my throat and the knot in my chest.”

Collar | Touch Aversion | “Leave me alone.”

No. 18: “I tend to deflect when I’m feeling threatened.”

Blindfold | Tortured For Information | “Hit them harder.”

No. 19: “I’ll take one final step, all you have to do is make me.”

Floral Bouquet | Psychological | “I’m not as stupid as you think I am.”

No. 20: “People don’t change people, time does.”

Blanket | Found Family | “You will regret touching them.”

No. 21: “See the chains around my feet.”

Vows | Restraints | “Don't move.”

No. 22: “They never saw us coming, ‘til they hit the floor.”

Glass Shard | Vehicular Accident | “Watch out!”

No. 23: “It’s gonna get me by the end of the night.”

Shadows | Stalking | “Who’s there?”

No. 24: “I’ve got a head full of chemicals; mouth full of ridicule.”

Goodbye Note | Neglect | “I thought they were with you.”

No. 25: “You’re not delivering a perfect body to the grave.”

Storm | Buried Alive | “They’re not breathing!”

No. 26: “Sometimes I get so tired; I don’t even know myself.”

Seeing Double | Working To Exhaustion | “You look awful.”

No. 27: “You drew stars around my scars; But now I’m bleeding.”

Matches | Scars | “Let me see”

No. 28: “We might not make it to the morning; so go on and tell me now.”

Bloody Knife | Sacrifice | “You'll have to go through me.”

No. 29: “I only sink deeper the deeper I think.”

Scented Candle | Troubled Past Resurfacing | “What happened to me?”

No. 30: “It’s okay, just to say, ‘I’m not okay’.”

Borrowed Clothing | Bridal Carry | “Not much longer...”

No. 31: “I thought that I was getting better.”

Emptiness | Setbacks | “Take it easy.”

Alternatives List:

Betrayal

Aftermath of Failure

Brass Knuckles

Decoy

Body Modification

Playing Cards

Examination

Hunting

Drugging

Shaking

Panic

Broken

Miscommunication

Lab Rat

Reluctant Whumper

Event Info & Rules

~ Please read our extensive event info posts before sending us an ask ~

WHUMPTOBER is a month-long, prompt-based creation challenge (think: Inktober, but whumpier). There are 31 official themes this year - one for each day of the month - which can be used, skipped, or combined in any way you’d like. The 'theme' of each day is the line of lyrics.

The prompts are merely to serve as inspiration without being taken literally (e.g. you don’t have to include the exact wording of prompts into your work). Feel free to run rampant on interpretation. For example, if the prompt is "flame", you could create something with reference to a candle/campfire, your character could have suffered a burn, or the flame could be related to the 'spark' of a relationship. It's truly up to you!

In total, there are 4 prompts for each day: there's lyrics, an object, a trope and a line of dialogue to choose from.  We want to give everyone as much creative freedom as possible, as well as increase event accessibility for folks with triggers and squicks.

Creators can PRODUCE work in any media they choose, including but not limited to: writing, visual artwork, photo/video/audio edits, paper crafts and elaborate recommendation lists (not just a list of links). Creators can PARTICIPATE as much or as little as they want (i.e. you don’t have to do ALL the prompts if you don’t want to) and prompts can be used in any order. They are also free to use even after the event ends.

When uploading Whumptober content to your blog, be sure to tag the with:

#whumptober2023 …..(the event tag)

#no.1, #no.2, #no.3, …..(day number)

#lyric, #bruises, #stabbing,  …..(the theme or specific prompt you chose)

#fandom or #OC, … (ironman, originalcontent, oc …)

#medium …..(gifs, fic, podcast, art, etc.)

#teeth, #gore tw, #etc …..(trigger warnings & any additional tags. Add "tw" AFTER the trigger/content warning. )

#nsfwhump …..(only for nsfw content)

#your own tags go here

PLEASE BE DILIGENT WITH YOUR TAGGING. Only properly tagged posts are considered for archiving on the official @whumptober-archive blog. They must be tagged in the order above. An elaborate post about our tagging system can be found [here]

Unfortunately, due to the sheer number of participants in recent years, we cannot guarantee your work will be archived. A random selection of properly tagged posts from all genres will be reblogged each day.

Whumpers who produce content for 31 total theme days are considered event completionists and will be tagged in a masterpost at the end of the month. A form will be published at the beginning of November asking you to tell us if you completed the event. You do not need to post anything you have created, we rely on trust and we will not check this.

Questions not addressed in one of our many event info posts can be directed to this blog. We will not answer any questions that have been answered in the FAQs or rules already.

Frequently Asked Questions

Q. How does this year’s prompt list work? What do I have to choose?

You can create something based on:

The overall theme/lyric of the day

Prompt 1, 2 or 3

One or several of the alternative prompts

A combination of the above

Q. Is [specific anything] allowed?

When in doubt: JUST DO IT!

Q. Do I have to do all 31 days?

Participate as much or little as you like! Just be sure to tag your posts properly (ex. #no.7, #radio silence). If you create works for 31 total theme days you will become a completionist. But apart from that, there are no repercussions if you don’t fill prompts for each day.

Q. Can I post early/late?

Yes, you can post whenever you want. We will only reblog posts during October, but you can use our prompts all year round. The day you post will only affect your probability of being reblogged.

Q. Will you reblog my post?

Due to the sheer number of content posted during Whumptober we can’t promise to reblog every single post. We will make a random selection trying to capture a wide variety of content. The following will increase your chances at being reblogged:

tag your post properly

post within 2-3 days of the theme you want to fill: if you fill the prompt for Day 1 your chances of being reblogged during October 1st to 3rd are highest and will go towards zero afterwards.

Q. What if I don’t understand a prompt/theme?

Send us an ask! We’re happy to help with wild, unhelpful clarifications or brainstorming. That being said, the themes are entirely up for interpretation. Don’t take them too literally. For example: You can be choking on a cherry, someone else can choke you or you could be choked up on emotions, etc.

Q. What kind of content can I make? Can it be NSFW?

This is a MIXED MEDIA event! You can write fic, post meta, doodle or paint, create a gifset or photo edit, link a song, or get crafty with video - anything goes. As for NSFW, make what you like, we just hope that you’ll tag your work accordingly so that others participating in the event can stay safe.

Q. Can I combine Whumptober with other creation challenges?

Absolutely, as long as the other challenges allow it too.

Q. Can I upload/repost my Whumptober content to other social media platforms?

Of course! You can post your own content wherever you like (or you can opt to not publish it at all). Additionally we’ve created an AO3 Collection to archive any fics posted there. It can be accessed here. The tumblr blog @whumptober-archive is the official archive, so please respect the boundaries of any closeted whumpers in your social circle.

Q. Can I use prompts to write a new chapter for an existing fic?

Yes.

Q. An existing fic I am currently writing contains many of the Whumptober prompts, can I use it?

If you are actively writing this fic at the moment with the Whumptober prompts in mind, yes. If you’ve previously posted something that checks the boxes, we ask that you not include it retroactively for this current year. You can, however, add new chapters relating to one or more of the prompts.

Q. What kind of characters can I write for?

Fandom characters, OC characters, human, furry, alien, cyborg, RPF, whoever you like. You can use the generic “whumpee” character or have specific ones.

Q. Does it have to take place in a specific fandom?

No, you can create works for your own worlds or for fandoms or for both. You can also create more generic or pan-fandom works. You can do cross-overs or use OCs, whatever you want.

Q. Can I use a prompt multiple times?

Yes, but it only counts once towards being a completionist.

Q. If I’m not comfortable with one day’s prompts can I use a prompt of a different day as a substitute and still be a completionist?

No, you can’t exchange prompts for different days. However, if all four prompts of a specific day make you uncomfortable, we have created an alternate prompts list that you can draw from. You can exchange any prompt with these, but please make sure not to use them twice.

Q. Where can I post my work?

Post where and how you want. You don’t have to (cross)post it to Tumblr or at all. Just keep in mind if it’s not on Tumblr we will not be able to add it to the blog archive.

Q. Can I start posting early?

You can, but this is an October event and wouldn’t it be more fun with everyone doing it at the same time? That being said, you can post early, but we won’t be reblogging any work predating October 1st.

Q. Do I have to finish a fic I started/can I post WIP’s?

Yes you can post WIPs. And you’re not obligated to finish it in October for it to count towards being a completionist.  

Q. Is co-writing allowed?

Yes, absolutely, and it would count towards being a completionist for both/all of you.

Q. Do I have to create 31 standalone pieces to be considered a completionist or can I write one continuous story?

One continuous story is fine.  The challenge is to write something for 31 prompts. If that’s spread over 31 fics or just one, you are still considered a completionist. (The same goes for every other media you choose.)

Q. Is there a min/max limit on word count?

There is no limit.

Q. Can I combine prompts? Is there a limit on how many?

No limit and combine as many as you’d like.

Q. Is a hc/angst/emotional whump focus ok?

Of course! We are not going to establish a threshold for whumpiness. If you think it’s whumpy enough, then it’s whumpy enough. It can be physical, psychological, emotional, or any combination of the three.

Q. What’s considered nsfw?

See this post

Q. What is whump?

Typically the genre includes situations where a fictional character is hurt, be it emotionally, psychologically, or physically. Fanlore provides information here.

Q. My interpretation of the prompt isn’t whumpy at all, does that count?

If you don’t think your interpretation is whumpy, then it doesn’t count for Whumptober. Remember that whump comes in many forms, though, and that we don’t have a whump-checker or a threshold for how much whump needs to be included. If you think your interpretation contains enough whump to count, then it does.

Q. Can I start working on the prompts before October?

Absolutely! That’s why we post the prompts a month in advance. We recognise how difficult it can be creating for 31 days in “real time” so feel free to start creating early!

Q. How do I tag triggers?

tw at the end of the word, ex. #gore tw

Q. Do I have to use your tags?

Yes, if you want your work archived on the blog. If not, feel free to use whatever tags you want. 

Q. Does combining prompts count towards completion?

Yes

Q. Can we @ you?

Yes but we mostly rely on the #whumptober2023 tag.

Q. Is there anything we are absolutely not allowed to write?

There are no rules, but please make sure to properly tag your trigger warnings. And keep in mind Tumblr’s policies if you are posting it here (or the policies for whatever site you use).

Q. Where can I go for brainstorming help?

Here on Discord or come into our ask box.

Q. My characters are minors, is that ok?

Yes, but as with everything else, use clear and descriptive tags.

Q. Can I cross post on other blogs?

Yes, multiple platforms and blogs are perfectly acceptable. You can also post different works to different accounts under different names, without posting them everywhere at once.

Note: This is a creation challenge, please don’t repost your old work under our tags (unless it’s been changed or edited for the event).

Thanks for reading, and happy whumping!

[imjustheretotrytohelp]

EMERGENCY COMMISSIONS FOR GAZA

Update: added two new fundraisers to donate to + new informations on the current situation

My commissions are now open for Ahmed Azmi, Siraj Abudayeh, Ahed Alshaer and Mohammed Iwais.

Note : additional characters are half priced (Bust : 5$ ; Half-body : 8$)

Ahmed's Ko-fi

Ahmed's GFM

(vetted, in the Help Gaza spreadsheet, number 1199)

Siraj's GFM

(vetted, in @el-shab-hussein and @nabulsi spreadsheet, number 219)

Ahed's GFM

(vetted, in Butterfly Effect Project spreadsheet, number 407)

Mohammed's GFM

(vetted by @/90-ghost)

These 4 fundraisers are in urgent need of funds.

Ahmed's wife is pregnant and delivered at the end of August, her family members were injured during the Nuseirat massacre and their family home was bombed. They especially need funds for Ahmed's sister-in law who got severely injured in the eye and needs to get surgery. He is now taking care of both his family, his wife and their baby, that is 12 people, and needs help for both evacuation, food and medecine.

Siraj is a journalist taking risks every day to report on what's happening in Gaza. He wish to rebuild his home in his country after the previous one he worked so hard to build was destroyed by the IOF. With the current attacks and bombings, he is in dire need of support as he has to take care of multiple family members, his children who are getting more sick by the day. They are barely surviving yet he travels everyday more than 3km through war zones just to keep on posting and asking for help.

Ahed is a dentistry student who lost everything and wishes to continue her study in safety and evacuate with her 6 other family members. She is very concerned for them and their health, as her father is diabetic and her mother suffers from a chest infection. Their current condition makes them very vulnerable and they are in great danger, especially with the high cost of medecine.

Mohammed is the provider for his siblings and nephews, a total of 27 people. They already lost 10 family members and so many belongings through their 7 (!!) displacements. His sister has recently been injured by a quadcopter and had the bullet removed, on top of his family members getting sick and not being able to afford a tent to sleep. These last few days have been particularly terrible, yet everyday he is doing his best for his loved ones. Donations could help alleviate a bit their pain and difficulties.

This only a fraction of what all these families have to go through. If you can, please read what they have to say about their struggle on their posts and their gfms.

The goal of these commissions is to help them at least a little bit, be it to fund necessities such as food, medecine and tents or to contribute to bigger expenses like rebuilding their house or evacuation fees. But at the end of the day, the main focus is to help them survive.

If you are interested in getting art and helping them, please contact me! If I'm okay with your request, just send me the proof of donation of the correct amount to one of the campaign linked above and I'll draw what you asked.

If you have any question don't hesitate to DM me.

Thank you and please share!

More examples under the cut :

Tagging (Please tell me if you don't want me to tag you) :

@timetravellingkitty @meaganfoster @briarhips @mazzikah @mahoushojoe 

@rhubarbspring @schoolhater @pcktknife @transmutationisms @sawasawako 

@feluka @terroristiraqi @irhabiya @commissions4aid-international @wellwaterhysteria 

@deepspaceboytoy @post-brahminism @junglejim4322 @kibumkim @neechees 

@mangocheesecakes @kyra45-helping-others @marnota @7bitter @tortiefrancis 

@toiletpotato @fromjannah @omegaversereloaded @vague-humanoid @criptochecca 

@aristotels @komsomolka @neptunerings @riding-with-the-wild-hunt @heritageposts 

@ot3 @amygdalae @ankle-beez @communistchilchuck @dykesbat 

@watermotif @stuckinapril @violentrevolution @mavigator @lacecap 

@socalgal @chilewithcarnage @ghelgheli @sayruq @northgazaupdates2

@decolonize-the-left @andtheheir @atinybeanchild @citrineocean @glysaturn

@brawlingdiscontent @akasanata @lwh-writing @whimster @woodwool

[ambrosiagourmet]

Hey, Kabru and Mithrun spend some interesting time together, don't they?

With Mithrun having just officially premiered in the anime, and a lot of discussions swirling around about him, I've been thinking a lot about that section of the story quite a bit. These chapters - Roasted Walking Mushroom and 6 Days - are some of my favorites. For a lot of reasons, really. Not only are they are a huge turning point for the story as a whole, but they have some excellent character work, and represent an important shift in Kabru and Mithrun's individual arcs and relationship to each other.

The chapters are also kind of a fully contained story arc just on their own, which is an impressive bit of writing, and makes them super fun to analyze. So that's exactly what I'm going to do!

This will be structured as a close reading of chapters 61 & 62, with some asides for additional important context. I'm going to talk a little bit about a reading that I disagree with, but for the most part I just want to focus on how Kabru and Mithrun's relationship progresses during these two chapters. In particular, the ways they both grow from the time they spend together.

Also I just want to quickly note that this isn't written as Ship Content. It's meant to be an analysis of their relationship as presented in the text - layer whatever additional meanings and filters on top of that as you'd like, but please respect that my intent is not to talk about or champion a ship, or frame any of this content as romantic.

So, with that all being said:

How do Kabru and Mithrun help each other?

First of all, I think there are two important pieces of context that inform the Kabru & Mithrun Dungeon Adventure chapters. Both are related to Kabru's state of mind, and both are set up before or during the chapters in question.

The first is the context of what happened just before Kabru and Mithrun fell into the dungeon. Specifically, the events that led Kabru to make them fall.

Kabru, essentially, gives up his life at the end of chapter 55. When he stops Mithrun, and when they both plummet with the collapse of the first floor, he is okay with dying. Mithrun warns him that they will both die if Kabru doesn't let him go, and Kabru accepts this as a worthwhile exchange.

Why?

Well, because he doesn't want the elves to take over the dungeon. Throughout the last 3 chapters, the Canaries have been effective, but they have also been cruel in their efficiency, and they have made it clear that they don't care about collateral damage. They lured people into the dungeon specifically to provoke a violent reaction from it, without regard for who might get hurt by the violence.

What's more, they are keeping important information from Kabru, and he knows it.

He's not just looking for a solution, he's looking for the truth - a truth that he believes that he will only find through conquering the dungeon. With good reason, to be fair! The elves make it very clear that they aren't there to treat the other races on the Island as equals.

So Kabru uses the only tool he has available to him - his own life. It won't get him the truth, but it at least gives a chance for another person from a short-life species (namely, Laios) to earn it in his place.

This dovetails nicely with the more thematic context that's introduced in at the start of chapter 61: the room where he could eat all the cake he wanted.

This place, a place that Kabru never wants to go back to, is a place where he is safe, and a place where he is ignorant. A place where he is sheltered from danger, but also from the truth. The same place the Island would become, if the Canaries had their way. He doesn't just want to be safe, and he doesn't even just want the world to be safe, though he does want to be able to protect people from what happened in Utaya.

But he doesn't just want to entrust that safety to the paternalism of the elves (especially since he is all too aware of the ways they can fail, or the people they are willing to sacrifice in the name of that "safety"). He wants to be given the agency to seek safety and peace for himself.

He wants to understand. And he wants the chance to act.

This is the context we have, going into the arc of 61 & 62. But before I talk about how the chapters build on this context, I want to take a step back and look at what else the chapters establish early on, before delving into their exploration of Kabru's agency.

First of all, I kind of want to challenge the framing of Kabru and Mithrun's relationship as solely that of a caretaker and his charge.

Obviously, Kabru is forced into a caretaker position - at the threat of his friend's safety, no less. (Okay, it's actually Toshiro and Namari that are being held, but still. There are hostages involved in this) But I do think it's important that Mithrun isn't the one who puts Kabru in this position - Cithis is.

Before this conversation, Kabru and Mithrun are already exploring the dungeon together. Mithrun doesn't threaten Kabru, or force his hand. He kind of just assumes that Kabru will join him. It's rude, and not particularly respectful, but given the dangers of navigating a dungeon alone, I don't think that's really an unreasonable assumption. And it certainly isn't the same as Cithis' approach.

If they were left alone with no intervention, they probably would have ended up in a similar position to the one that Cithis leveraged them into. Kabru is smart, and he could have figured out the things that Mithrun needed help with. And, to be clear, those are things that Mithrun needs help with not because he is selfish or thinks they are owed to him, but because he is disabled. It's not unreasonable for him to need that help, and it's not unreasonable for Kabru to provide it, under the circumstances.

Besides, they both need each other down there. Kabru wouldn't have survived without Mithrun - he doesn't know enough about monsters, and isn't familiar with the deeper dungeon's layout. And Mithrun wouldn't survive without Kabru - he isn't able to notice his basic needs and would burn himself out without food or rest, making him an easy target for the monsters he could otherwise take care of on his own.

Aside from both needing each other, another interesting layer to their relationship, which is established right away, is that Kabru doesn't have to - and literally cannot - put on a mask of social niceties around Mithrun. He can't suck up. It doesn't work.

So Kabru, who spends so much of his time concerned with how others perceive him, and who compromises his own comfort in order to become the most appealing version of himself at any given time, has that tool taken away. He has to help Mithrun, but notably, he can only help Mithrun to a certain point. He cannot compromise his open and honest feelings to help maintain someone else's view of the world - or at very least, it doesn't benefit him at all to do so.

Instead, they sit together, in the same position, share the same shitty mushroom dinner, because they both have to:

And that's notable, too. They both have to. Cithis' demand is most specific about the need to eat. Three meals a day! But this is something they both need, not just Mithrun.

Still, their relationship at this point still isn't exactly supportive, or even respectful. Kabru may have realized that he didn't need to keep up an act around Mithrun, but ya know, he still turns around an immediately try to, with that shitty mushroom dinner.

(The 'badly drawn shapeshift Kabru' gag here isn't just funny, imo, it's also a reminder of the thing he JUST LEARNED. Mithrun is immune to the Kabru smile anime sparkles filter.)

Mithrun also doesn't tell Kabru any helpful information at this point, and doesn't really put much effort into helping him at all. He slaps him awake out of a Nightmare, and treats him with the same disregard he did at the start of the chapter, focused entirely on moving ahead.

But then Mithrun collapses, and the current structure of their relationship collapses with him.

I think it's interesting here that the shift in their dynamic also includes Mithrun explicitly noticing Kabru's desires. Obviously it's not actually like some kind of I truly see you and recognize your humanity moment shared between them, but I do still like the way that it pulls Kabru's internal wants to the surface. Kabru not voicing his desires doesn't mean they don't exist, and Mithrun recognizes that the same way the dungeon does.

And then Mithrun does, in fact, grant one of Kabru's deepest desires. He tells Kabru the truth.

Just like how they are working together in the first place, this truth is as much a necessary concession to survival as anything. But that doesn't mean it's not impactful for Kabru. This is the thing that every other elf in his life has kept from him. A secret foundational to his core belief that long-life and short-life species can never come to mutual understanding.

And Mithrun isn't just giving him the bare minimum information here. What he shares isn't just a truth, it's his truth. It's a level of complete and total vulnerability that few people share with each other. And again - some of this may just be coincidence and necessity. I imagine Mithrun is so open, at least in part, because he doesn't have the same barriers that other people do when it comes to sharing these things.

But, then again... we see Mithrun at his most vulnerable and empathetic when he is talking to dungeon lords & potential dungeon lords, and trying to convey to them the truth of the trap they are walking into.

This face:

Is very similar to this face:

These are some of the few instances that we see Mithrun emote in this way, and his story does come just after he notices the dungeon responding to Kabru's desires.

But, no matter if Mithrun's openness is in response to Kabru being tangled in the dungeon's hunger, or just part of his nature (or, maybe, a little of both), his story changes things for Kabru. It gives him the chance to make actual choices, now that he understands the truth. It gives him a chance at agency in the story.

And he immediately turns around and uses some of that agency in an interesting way:

When asked about why he can't sleep, Mithrun says he needs to be magically compelled. Being magicked to sleep is simple, and it is efficient, but he doesn't even just say it's the best option. He seems to believe it is the only option.

So much in Mithrun's recovery has been framed through how it will let him fight the demon. Recover so that you can return to the dungeon. Sleep so that you can return to the dungeon. Eat so that you can return to the dungeon.

But rest, much like eating, isn't just about achieving the bare minimum required for efficiency. And as Senshi would probably say, the easiest path isn't always the best.

I don't think that the Canaries are intentionally running Mithrun ragged or anything, but as I mentioned earlier, they are very focused on efficiency, with little thought spared to what is lost or hurt in the process.

And there is something different about Mithrun's time with Kabru in the dungeon. Lycion even notes it, when they finally connect back up.

I don't think it's a huge leap to say that how Mithrun falls asleep here is emblematic of that difference. When Kabru helps Mithrun to sleep by massaging his feet, rather then using magic, he is explicitly taking a step beyond the minimum. He is providing comfort to a body that has been given only necessities for a long, long time.

These two events - Mithrun sharing the truth of the dungeon with Kabru, and Kabru choosing to help Mithrun to sleep through a foot massage - shift their relationship. There's a clear difference in how we see them treat each other, and especially in how Mithrun treats Kabru.

Before, Kabru provides food that he has gathered himself (okay, it was a mushroom he put his foot through on floor one, but the point still stands that Mithrun offered no help at all with getting food).

Afterwards, they gather food together.

Before, Mithrun teleports Kabru towards a monster, using him as a weapon when he can't find anything else.

Afterwards, he helps Kabru escape monsters, and fights them directly.

Before, he slaps Kabru awake after 5 hours of uncomfortable, Nightmare-filled sleep. A rest which, notably, Kabru didn't even intend to take for himself.

Afterwards, we see Mithrun keeping watch while Kabru sleeps in a bedroll.

I don't necessarily think that all of these things are choices that Mithrun consciously makes. Like, after 6 days, Kabru would have to get some actual sleep eventually, and Mithrun would pretty obviously have to keep watching during that time.

Nonetheless, there's still a difference in how these scenes are framed, and the fact that it is these things that are used to portray their journey together. Kabru is not the sole person providing food and sleep and safety - they provide these things for each other. Kabru eats alongside Mithrun, hunts alongside Mithrun, and he sleeps in the same way we see Mithrun sleep, laying down and resting deeply enough to be groggy when woken up.

What's more, during their time together, there are even a couple of instances of Kabru being more willing to care for himself and accept care. The sleeping is one example - note how he is surprised at having slept "that long" when told he was asleep for less than even the minimum recommended amount of nightly sleep - but I think the pattern of his eating is even clearer. In making sure that Mithrun eats regularly, he is forced to eat regularly too.

And I especially like the progression with the Barometz meal. After Mithrun has fallen asleep, Kabru thinks about wanting to "give [Mithrun] something nice to eat," but also notes that Mithrun's lack of desire "means there isn't even anything he wants to eat." So what does Kabru do?

He makes Mithrun something that he wants to eat.

I've already talked a bit about the ways that Dungeon Meshi depicts people finding support through "borrowing" the desires of the people who care for them, and I think this scene is a great example of that idea. Especially in the way that it pulls an expression of desire from Kabru, who is so prone to ignore his own hunger and needs. The meal may not end up anywhere close to the flavor intended, but it's still a far cry from the roasted walking mushroom.

All of these pieces come together at the end of chapter 62, resulting in a pivotal choice that could only happen because of the ways Kabru and Mithrun have, at least a little bit, grown closer to each other.

As they are preparing to leave, Kabru hears a bell ringing in the dungeon, just as he hears Toshiro's matching bell on the other side of the portal. Realizing Laios is nearby, Kabru hesitates. He knows the truth about the demon, and how he has a chance to act on it.

Cithis, the person who extorted Kabru into taking care of Mithrun in the first place, pushes for Mithrun to follow along with the plan.

(okay a quick aside here I just want to say I do love Cithis and I'm not trying to bash on her here. I just think it's interesting that she is the one to establish the terms of Mithrun & Kabru's cooperation, as well as the one who tells Mithrun to leave the dungeon at the end of the chapter)

But Mithrun doesn't go along with her command. Instead, he does something unexpected:

He asks what Kabru wants to do.

In contrast to Milsiril's smothering comfort,

and in contrast to his Mithrun's own assumption that Kabru will follow him, when they first wake up in the dungeon,

Mithrun follows Kabru's lead.

This, right here, is the change between them. Not only that, but it's a shift in the entire balance of agency in the dungeon. For what might be the first time in a very long time, Kabru - a tall-man - knows the truth, and is acting on it. He makes a huge decision purely on his own judgement. He is not trying to appease or coerce anyone, and he doesn't win Mithrun over by hiding his true intentions.

Rather, it's the honesty between them that builds to this moment. Mithrun's honesty earns Kabru's trust, and Kabru's honesty earns Mithrun's respect. They bond not because they are forced to spend time together, but because they choose to spend that time giving each other more than the bare minimum - even when they are both people used to accepting the bare minimum.

It echoes Laios' argument with Toshiro, in a way. They eat three square meals a day (Cithis mandated admittedly), they get plenty of sleep, and in doing these things, they take each other seriously. They treat each other as more than just a means to an end.

I don't necessarily think it's a flawless, unbreakable bond that's built during this time - hell, they both kind of revert back to their old behavior, once reunited with the rest of the Canaries. People don't completely change their habits overnight, after all.

But it is a shift. It's a shift that gives Kabru the chance to steer the story towards the ending he has fought for all his life, and it's a shift that helps Mithrun find a way to move forward after he loses his own reason for living. They reach their goals, and then they step past them - facing life beyond the moments they thought defined their reasons for living. Facing life beyond the bare minimum.

And that is how they help each other.

[aces-and-angels]

URGENT PSA: DELETED GFMS UPDATE- PLEASE READ

the detective hat is screwed on tight gang- i just remembered that the wayback machine exists and have been able to gather some additional information regarding the deleted gfm campaigns for omar, raina, and iman:

all the info is under the cut

---

see the info on the site yourselves by using the following links:

iman: https://www.gofundme.com/f/jhcjrv-help-imans-family-find-safety omar: https://www.gofundme.com/f/help-me-to-evacuate-from-the-genocide ran/raina: https://www.gofundme.com/f/displaced-gaza-family-seeks-help-after-war-destroys-lives

my hunch was correct: these campaigns were not formatted in the way gfm requires in order to stay operational. i detailed the common reasons why gfm's may be terminated in a response post to @rubashabansblog but i will include it again here:

ruba- i have figured out the following info from my own research. there are several issues that can result in a gfm being suspended. the biggest issue comes from how the actual campaign is written. the key is being transparent. that means everyone that is benefiting from the campaign must be listed out by name (there may be a rule about specifying any minors/kids' ages as well) + locations. the issue also may be linked to whoever is organizing these campaigns on behalf of these families. another part that needs to be addressed fully is who will be handling the money. essentially if at any point in the transfer of funds someone is responsible for holding the money raised, they need to be listed on the account plainly and on the actual donation page as well. example: person a is organizing this fundraiser on behalf of person b. the last issue i can think of from everything i've read involves keeping an accurate account of the family's expenses. meaning that you need to write down everything that you are spending the money on. since there's no way to print actual receipts- gfm is asking people to write everything down on their notes app with their phones. these notes count as "receipts" and the total amount must always equal the amount the person/people are trying to raise. example: say i am raising $10K to evacuate, but am planning on putting aside $3K for other future living expenses like rent -> all of that needs to be documented fully. basically- as long as goal amounts match up to your expense report- the campaign should be fine. i understand that some families may need to keep raising their goals in order to cover the cost of living before they are able to evacuate. if that is the case- each time they raise/decrease the goal- i believe they need to update their gfm page to address the new total costs for their fundraiser. please forward this information to the affected families when you get the chance 🖤 perhaps this new info can help them solve the problem on their end *edit: another problem i forgot to mention- the currencies must match between the fundraiser and the bank account it is linked to. this means that if the fundraiser is in euros-- the bank tied to the account must also be in a country that uses euros as their primary currency. a US-based bank account would not work if the fundraiser is in euros.

all three campaigns have the same characteristics: not enough info is being disclosed in the fundraisers. another common theme: they are all recently made (may 2024). the decision to evacuate is a painful choice for families to make as none of want to be displaced yet again- but the situation in gaza has prompted many families to make this decision in an attempt to save themselves + their loved ones. the issue is that many of those who are now choosing to make campaigns are not aware of the ins and outs of how to properly start a gfm (+ i'm most certain there are other factors at play as to why this keeps happening to families in desperate need of aid).

this is bound to happen again and again unless this information is being spread widely. which is why i am also asking for this:

please share this w/ anyone who is fluent in arabic that can translate this in its entirety (DO NOT TRY TO USE GOOGLE TRANSLATE). i have a lot of new followers from 🇵🇸, some of them with newly made gfm pages that may be at risk of being frozen if they do not correct the issues i've addressed above. this information is vital to ensuring they are able to continue fundraising.

i have seen campaigns launched in june formatted similarly to the three that have been abruptly terminated. obtaining a stable internet connection in gaza requires people to put themselves at greater risk as they travel to locations with a working signal. people have been brutally murdered by just trying to activate the e-sims being sent over. so it makes sense that these newer campaigns made by these families would not have all the necessary info required- as these guidelines may be difficult to obtain on their end/may be worded in a way they cannot understand (you try reading the terms and policies of gfm yourself and tell me how fast your brain shuts off- and you're doing so in the comfort of your own homes. imagine what it's like to do so while facing constant bombardment).

a mutual of mine has already tried to contact gfm on behalf of omar- and they have informed me of gfm's response to their question:

Omar has already contacted them and is apparently in contact with the team according to the person i chatted with. they cannot disclose to me *why* the fundraiser was terminated they said they are working with Omar to solve the issue. if the issue cannot be solved, the money will be refunded to everyone... ^ this "contact" is likely using the same chatbox the rest of us need to use in order to even speak to a representative at gfm one-on-one. a very annoying system, but unless someone has a direct line to gfm- it is our only option.

we need to mobilize right now and put pressure on gfm to give these families the time they need to rework their campaign pages.

through the wayback machine i was able to figure out the organizers for each campaign.

omar is the organizer for his own -> says he is located in vienna but that is in direct conflict w/ the location he says he is in under the fundraiser info (displaced in rafah). i'm unsure if he has a contact in vienna that is actually the one responsible for holding/transferring the money, but this information needs to get to them so they can try to fix the issue ASAP

the other two have beneficiaries listed, but there could be additional problems with how that whole thing is currently set up.

i still do not know the emails for raina/iman's gfm's (and the wayback machine doesn't let you see the contact info on the archived pages 😓) but- we can try to mobilize right now for omar. he is absolutely devastated and has lost hope that he will be able to recuperate the money he has already raised. this is not the time for the rest of us to lose faith in his cause.

for anyone interested in helping out- i have laid out all this information so you can question gfm directly. if you come in knowing your stuff, they may be more receptive in their responses than the first initial attempts. please contact me directly if you wish to email on omar's behalf so i can forward you his email linked to the gfm account.

tagging for more reach: @appsa @palms-upturned @malcriada

[clustxr]

hi y'all. i know i don't make a lot of original posts here. however, on may 31st, i watched as my friends and peers were brutalized at the hands of cops from departments across california.

edit 6/12/24: students for justice in palestine at uc santa cruz has published a press release. it is easily the best way to understand what happened that night. please take a few minutes to read it.

uc santa cruz police made a statewide call for mutual aid in order to disband the gaza solidarity encampment located at the main entrance of the campus - initially established at the quarry in the center of campus on may 1, it moved to the entrance on may 20 in solidarity with the UAW strike. on tuesday, may 28, protesters barricaded the main entrance, cutting off the primary way of getting on campus; though the western entrance to UCSC was left unblocked (except for a few hours on tuesday), the main entrance remained obstructed until the raid began late on thursday night. this road blockage is what admin cited as the reason for the raid, along with "campus safety" and "academic freedom".

it's important to note that prior to blocking the road, students had been encamped for 28 days, and had been holding peaceful, law-abiding rallies since october. nothing worked. months of following the guidelines that admin had set, and of course student voices were dismissed and ignored by chancellor cynthia larive and cpevc lori kletzer (the latter of whom, by the way, showed up at 6 am "walking her dog" and smiled while watching her students get suffocated and beaten). the escalation would never have happened if student demands had been met at the very beginning.

hundreds of cops in riot gear from as far out as uc davis showed up to abuse students. over 115 arrests were made, including 3 ucsc professors, transported off by buses that were fifteen years past their intended end-of-use date and had also been servicing the campus prior. is this "campus safety"? is this "academic freedom"?

from just before midnight until approximately 9am on friday, cops kettled, suffocated, shoved, yanked, beat, and bruised students. one got a battery charge for writhing and bumping a cop after another slammed him in the head with a baton. another had a bag placed over their head, leading to suffocation, vomiting, and loss of consciousness. at least two protesters were confirmed to go to the ER that morning; many more have had to seek medical attention for lasting injuries.

arrestees were given a 14-day campus ban, including those who live on-campus (functionally evicting them & preventing access to their belongings), not to mention subjected to horrifyingly inhumane conditions:

you can find more information on various instagram accounts such as ucscsjp, ucscdivest, fjpucsc, ucsc_encampment, & jawsucsc. there's plenty of other organizations and people posting about this, too. please, don't let ucsc brush this under the rug. demand amnesty for the arrestees and protesters. contact any ucsc admin you can find. the uc has been utilizing police brutality to repress student voices across their institution, with ucla and uc irvine also being victims of this violence. do not let them get away with it.

free palestine, from the river to the sea. if seeing this violence sickens you, remember that this is not even a fraction of what the people of palestine have been enduring for decades. we will not let the university silence us, no matter what.

[e-november]

Hypervigilance is a common symptom of many mental health disorders and social conditions. It is a physiological response of constant alertness to the threats around you and from yourself. I've had a hard time coping with this symptom in general, as it would warp all my relationships, all my perceptions of myself, others and the world. On top of all of this, I felt it was providing me safety from the actual threats I've experienced and feared experiencing; I couldn't be further from the truth. Here are a few ways you can experience hypervigilance:

You might have phobic reflexes. Every unexpected or unpredictable sensory information is perceived as a threat (a sigh, loud walking, cars or people behind you, quick movements from others, etc.). You may jump, or be extremely started and irritable. Other times, you may have extreme emotional reactions or intense dissociation. Phobic reflexes are generally responses to sensory triggers.

Your body may rarely feel relaxed. A lot of stiffness, pain and discomfort can come from keeping your body at a high stress level. At long-term, you may end up developing chronic illnesses as your body is overwhelmed with the constant arousal of fight/flight/freeze/fawn responses.

You struggle doing any task that requires your full attention or a lack of alertness to your surroundings (paperwork, sleeping, reading, etc.). Your ability to function cognitively may be affected by hypervigilance as a whole, which means you'll experience cognitive rigidity, processing disinhibition and other executive dysfunctions. (Note: these are generally partially reversible when recovering from PTSD, GAD, OCD or other disorders with hypervigilant patterns or when you are no longer in a social context which requires this level of conscience of your surroundings).

You may overanalyze what people say or what you think in order to avoid any threat. The latter is particularly common in people with OCD or with trauma around philosophical concepts. You may perceive yourself as one step away from losing control, and may expect others to lose control as well. Generally, the feeling of loss of control resides in hypervigilance itself than actually acting against your values.

You may use escapism a lot, and develop addictions, behavioral or not. This reduces the sense of being constantly threatened temporarily, but increases the hypervigilance on the long-term and worsens the issue. These are a few of the signs you experience hypervigilance as a core coping mechanism ruling your reactions to your current social context as well as the disorders you might deal with. Trauma is the common denominator of this mechanism, although PTSD and C-PTSD isn't implied by default. Since hypervigilance is your body being in constant alertness, in order to reduce it, you must reduce the physiological stress then work on the mental components of hypervigilance at the same time. I will update this blog later with a few ways you could reduce hypervigilance.

[aphroditelovesu]

Yandere L Lawliet Headcanons (General)

"I'm always two steps ahead of you, if not more, my sweetie." — L Lawliet.

❝ 📓 — lady l: watching Death Note again and commenting with a friend, I ended up thinking about it and decided to do some L headcanons, because I love him! 🖤 ​​Hope you like it :) 🤍

❝tw: obsessive and possessive behavior, stalking, unhealthy relationships, mention of kidnapping.

❝📓pairing: yandere!l lawliet x gender neutral!reader.

L Lawliet is very scary because he is very smart. A detective, the best detective. He is very good at reading people, at his deductions. There is no running away from him, he will always find you.

He was already stalking you before you even knew it. Before you even knew about his existence, L was already after you. Always behind you, watching you and gathering as much information about you as possible.

L knew about everything you. What was your childhood like, your fears, your desires, your dreams, everything. There is no privacy at all with him, he wants to be able to read you like a book and he does. There's nothing he can't figure out eventually.

He began to appear in your life slowly and normally, for you at least. He just seemed like an ordinary guy who needed some sleep and straightened out his back, but that was it. You had no idea who he really was, how obsessed he was with you.

L has morals that can be easily corrupted when he becomes obsessed. He believes that he is justice and he does in his way, which is not always the right way to do it. He firmly believes in justice above all else, his justice.

He doesn't believe that what he feels, that the things he did for you are considered wrong. L is delusional enough to believe he is right, but he will never do anything against your will. He respects you enough for that.

L is a natural stalker, it's one of his hobbies as a detective. Although he doesn't persecute you in the literal sense of the word, he usually sends Watari to watch you and accompany you somewhere. Whether it's going to school or work, he'll have his butler protecting you.

He won't risk your safety, especially with Kira on the loose. You're not a criminal, but L won't take any risks. He's never made a mistake before and it won't be you he makes a mistake with. Not when one mistake could cause your death.

Always very careful, L would only reveal himself to you when he was sure he would have your trust. He is very, very manipulative and will make you trust no one else but him. Not even your family could be as trustworthy as L. He would definitely lock you up at home if he could.

L has cameras in your house, all aimed at crucial points in your house. In your bedroom, in your living room, in your kitchen, everywhere there is a camera watching you. It had become a habit for him to spend hours a day looking at the images, waiting for you.

He's not the possessive type, but L has his limits and won't tolerate someone approaching you with ulterior motives. He is very quick to think, to deduce that there is someone interested in you and he will quickly push them away from you. He usually uses his manipulation for this. L is not in the habit of killing and will never do so unless it is really necessary.

Once his obsession consumed him for good, L could no longer remain but shadows. He could no longer remain in the background, watching you take risks every day, he needed to do something. And he did, during one night, you woke up in an unfamiliar room and with a pale guy, sitting in a strange way, staring at you intensely. You were finally with him.

You may think you're smarter than him, that you can get away from L, but he'll always be two steps ahead of you. You have nowhere to run. L would finally have you and he wouldn't let you go.

[pahtoosh]

Hi, I’m not sure if your requests are open at the moment, but I figured I’d try anyway!

Would you be willing to write about Stucky and their little having a day out together? Like going to the zoo, the aquarium, or perhaps go swimming? Whatever you feel like writing is fine, even it is an entirely different activity!

I absolutely adore your work, so I can’t wait to see where you will take this idea 🩷

sleeping with the fishes

[image ID: a gif of fish swimming. /.end ID]

masterlist

sfw but 18+

wc: ~780 words

warnings: lots of being picked up and carried, not proofread

a/n: thank you so much for your kind words! this is such a sweet request, it’s my favorite thing to just write about a fun and fluffy day😁i hope you enjoy this and that i didn’t make you wait too long😅

pairing: daddy!stucky x little!reader

summary: your daddies take you on a trip to the aquarium

⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡ ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆ ⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡ ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆ ⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡ ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆

“Woah, woah! Slow your roll, fish patrol.”

“There’s no time, Baba! We have to go the ‘quarium!” It was almost unreal how quickly you were moving while simultaneously not getting any closer to the front door. You were running out to the car when Bucky stopped you with a grip on the back of your jacket. That didn’t stop you from jogging midair, though.

“Ah-quarium.” He plopped you onto the small bench in the entryway. “And I’m pretty sure there’s enough time for you to at least put on some shoes before we leave the house.”

Bucky kneeled in front of you so he could help you get on a pair of sneakers. He made sure to double knot the laces, knowing that you would have no patience for getting your shoes retied today.

“Dada! Are you almost ready?!” you shouted down the hall.

Steve sped walked out of your room with a backpack of stuff. “Almost! There’s a lot to pack for a full day out of the house.”

You whined and tried stomping your feet, forgetting that Bucky was still putting on your shoes.

“Hey, no whining and no kicking Baba,” Steve reprimanded. “We’ll get there with plenty of time to spare, baby. The fish aren’t going to swim away.”

“They might,” Bucky teased.

“Nooooo!”

“Buck, c’mon.”

Bucky grinned mischievously and gave you ticklish kisses on your face before helping you off the bench. “I’m only kidding, angel. Let’s get you in the car and buckled up while we wait for Dada.”

After what felt like a million hours, you were finally at the aquarium. Your daddies went over some safety rules while you were still in the car and once you showed that you understood, it was go time.

There were so many exhibits to discover. The tanks seemed to go on forever, all with different species of fish, snails, crabs, turtles, and other animals that you’d never seen before.

The aquarium offered something for the whole family. Still a science nerd, Bucky enjoyed reading the information cards placed by the tanks. Some of the animals and their habits reminded him so much of the aliens he read about in his sci fi novels. Steve was keeping a mental note of the animals he wanted to draw for you later. He even took pictures of a few to serve as a reference. Meanwhile, you practically had your nose pressed on the glass, just admiring the fish with an overwhelming sense of wonder.

When you saw something especially cool, you’d tug on the sleeve of your nearest daddy and point. You couldn’t just witness something so special and not share it. One of the best moments was when you pointed out a scuba diver in the large tank to your Dada. The diver noticed you and started a game of rock, paper, scissors through the glass.

One of the safety rules for the day was that you had to either wear a leash backpack or hold a daddy’s hand the whole time. In the beginning, you chose to hold hands, but then you switched to the backpack for more freedom(and because your daddies either walked too slowly or had no idea which tanks were ones to stop and stare at and which ones just needed a quick glance).

You could’ve stayed at the aquarium forever, but eventually it was time to go home. Steve and Bucky could tell you were getting sleepy. You got a little more clumsy, often getting tangled in your backpack leash, and asked them to hold you more often. Your daddies suspected that some of the requests to be carried had nothing to do with needing to see from a higher point, and much to do with your tired legs.

“This was the last tank, bubba. Now we’re going to the gift shop and then going home, okay?” Steve said.

You sighed. “Okay, Dada. Can I take a picture of the jellyfish first? Please?”

“Yes you can, baby. Good manners.” Steve held you still while you took a photo of the jellyfish tank with your camera.

As the three of you went to the gift shop, you asked Bucky to hold your camera so you could hold your hands behind Steve’s neck and place your head on his shoulder. He of course said yes. Your Baba also snapped a sneaky shot of Steve carrying sleepy little you using your camera.

You were practically already dozing off by the time you made it to the gift shop, but your daddies still went in and asked if you wanted anything to remember this trip by. You ended up leaving with a beluga whale plush, which you cuddled with the entire way home.

[a-court-of-fics-and-errors]

Keep Moving Forwards, Part 13

Image Source

Azriel x Reader Fic

Summary: After finally deciding to leave your abusive and manipulative mate for good, you find unexpected companionship with Azriel, the Shadowsinger of the Night Court. As you navigate the aftermath of your traumatic relationship, you struggle to understand where the mating bond went wrong and contemplate your path forward, vowing never to return to the past.

Find other parts here: Master List

To follow this fic, follow tag "Keep Moving Forwards Fic" or comment to be tagged in future parts.

Content Warning: This story contains depictions of extreme emotional manipulation and abuse, detailed descriptions of direct physical abuse, and scenes of men hunting women with implied sexual assault. Please read at your own risk.

Word Count: 1.8k

Author's Note: This is a multi-part series. Unlike my previous works, this fanfiction delves deeper than just fluff, exploring complex emotional landscapes. As I navigate this new writing journey, I kindly ask for gentle feedback. The topics addressed are profoundly impactful, touching many lives with diverse experiences. Please be gentle with yourselves and others. Healing is a journey, and everyone processes it differently. Be kind to yourself. Take what resonates, and leave what doesn’t.

Please continue reading, being aware of the above content warnings, ensuring you are in a healthy headspace. Give yourself time to process and be gentle with yourself.

When the sun rose and light peeked through the gaps in the curtains, you allowed yourself to rise from bed, savoring the feel of the blankets beneath your fingers as you took deep, steadying breaths. Finally, you pulled yourself up and opened the armoire to find clothes Feyre had given you throughout your stay. At the bottom of the closet, you discovered a rucksack filled with clothing for all climates, fresh skeins of water, and various dried fruits and ready-to-make meals. You dug through the bag, wondering who could have left it for you. Nesta, perhaps? You shook your head, smiling lightly as you dressed, pulling out a cable-knit sweater and layering it over a turtleneck. You opted for green cargo pants and a knit blue wool jacket, then pulled on a pair of hiking boots. You tied your hair into a braid, securing the end with the ribbon Anthea had given you, allowing your fingers to linger over the frayed ends as you looked at yourself in the mirror.

You slung the rucksack over your shoulder and walked into the hallway, knowing you would need to find someone to bring you to the ground or face the many stairs that would have you walking until nightfall. As you made your way down the hall, you heard indistinct chatter behind a closed door in the common room. 

“You’re sure?” a deep male voice asked.

“Absolutely,” Rhysand responded.

“How is that possible?” the deep voice asked.

“When my father was High Lord, diplomatic affairs were very different. There weren’t strict border enforcements, and he and my father were quite close.”

A scoff from the deeper-voiced male.

“So you think it’s possible that he’s her father?” Azriel’s voice interjected.

You paused. They were talking about you.

“I would recognize that voice anywhere,” Rhysand responded.

“She was a child. Who knows what she accurately remembers,” the deep voice replied.

“Where else would she know his voice?” Rhysand countered.

There was a pause as you pressed your ear closer to the door.

“So what do we do?” Azriel asked finally. “Do we tell her?”

“What good would that do?” the deeper voice asked.

“For her safety, we can’t tell her anything,” Rhysand responded.

“So we just sit with this information?” Azriel asked, irritation lacing his voice.

Rhysand shot back, “What would you prefer, Azriel? That we tell her and risk not knowing what will happen afterward?”

“What do you think she would do?” Azriel asked.

“I don’t know,” Rhysand replied.

Azriel’s voice grew louder, “She has no other family. Is it not wrong of us to keep this from her? What if she wants to go to him?”

The deep voice responded, “You want her to go live with them? That messed up family?”

“I don’t think that’s for us to decide,” Azriel shot back.

“You know how they treat their females,” the deep voice responded.

Azriel said nothing.

The deep voice then continued, “Rhys, what do you want us to do?”

“I want you to keep this quiet for now. For all we know, he’s still looking for her.”

Azriel, hesitantly but with a touch of frustration, asked, “What about her mate?”

Your heart caught in your throat.

A pause from all of them. “That is not our concern,” Rhysand responded.

Azriel’s voice grew louder. “She’s running from him, Rhys! We can’t just do nothing. Who knows what he might do to her?”

Rhysand, his voice calm and collected, said, “Az, she doesn’t want to tell us anything about him. We can’t do anything unless she asks for help.”

Azriel, almost yelling, responded, “She’s terrified to say anything!”

The deep voice tried to calm him, “Az-”

“No!” Azriel stopped him. “Rhys, he’s in her head all the time. She screams his name every night. She’s been running from him. Who knows what he’s been doing to her?”

Rhysand replied, “Azriel, we cannot overstep boundaries. I’ve already entered her mind without her consent. If we do anything without her permission, we are causing more harm than good.”

“So we let her go? Let her keep running from him?”

Rhysand paused. “It is her choice what to do with her life.”

“She doesn’t want this!” Azriel yelled again.

“How can you be so sure what she wants?” Rhysand responded.

Your mind raced. Why did it matter who this male in your dream was? Why would they care? Your heart nearly stopped as you considered them knowing your mate existed, suddenly fearing they might call him to come and get you. You started thinking through a story to stop them, but then you heard the sound of a chair scraping against the floor and footsteps approaching. You stepped back, pressing your rucksack against the wall. The door flew open, and Azriel stood before you, his face hot with anger that faded slightly when he saw you.

“Y/N-” he stammered, “Hi, good morning.”

“Good morning,” you responded, taking a step forward slightly.

Azriel looked over his shoulder back into the room and then turned back to you, shifting slightly as he looked you up and down. “What—where are you going?” he asked, his face turning more concerned.

You looked down at your clothes and then back at his face. “I’m heading out. I was wondering if someone could take me down.”

Azriel’s fingers flexed around the door as he seemed to fidget more. “You’re leaving?” he stammered.

“I think it’s just time for me to move on,” you said, shifting slightly in your boots.

As you finished, Rhysand appeared in the doorway behind Azriel, who took a slight step out of his way. “You don’t have to go,” Rhysand noted. “You can stay as long as you like.”

You looked at Rhysand, smiling politely. “You’ve been so generous, but I’m just feeling an itch to move on.”

Azriel started to speak, but Rhysand cut him off. “Of course,” he said. “It’s been our pleasure to have you.”

You looked to Azriel, whose face hardened at Rhysand’s words, but he didn’t speak. From behind Rhysand, another male with Illyrian wings, a much larger frame, and shoulder-length black hair appeared.

“You’re leaving? But I just got here!” his voice boomed.

“You must be Cassian,” you said, smiling at the bright face with a beaming smile back at you.

“So you’ve heard of me? These guys don’t just spend all their time talking about themselves?” Cassian pushed between the two males, coming to stand in front of you, his hand outstretched.

You reached to him, shaking it lightly, his calloused grip hard. “Well, mostly Nesta.”

Cassian smirked. “So you’ve only heard the bad things.”

You chuckled, readjusting the pack on your back. “Just that she missed you.”

“Not that I’m the biggest pain in her ass and that she wishes I’d fly into the side of a mountain?” Cassian smirked back.

“No, nothing like that,” you replied, “just a little.”

Cassian chuckled slightly. “Well, it brings me too much joy to terrorize her day to stop now.”

Rhysand broke back in, “I can take you down. I have to get back home anyway.”

You nodded slightly, noticing how Azriel’s face tightened to the point where you thought his skin might snap.

Cassian gave you a kind smile. “It’s been nice to meet you, even if you’re so rudely leaving.”

You rolled your eyes. “Not my fault you’ve been avoiding me.”

Cassian turned, walking down the hall towards Nesta’s room. “Someone has to work around here,” he threw his hands up and continued through the doors at the end of the hall, calling over his shoulder, “Good luck out there, kid!”

Azriel’s fingers loosened and gripped the doorframe again. Rhysand reached out his hand to yours. “Shall we?”

You looked between Azriel and Rhys before taking a few steps forward and wrapping your arms around Azriel’s neck. “Thank you,” you whispered to him.

Azriel seemed stunned momentarily before he wrapped his own arms around you, resting his chin on your head, one arm coming around your shoulders, pressing his fingers into your shoulder, the other coming around your waist.

“Of course,” he whispered back.

You took in his scent, mist and cedar, breathing him in deeply as you clenched your eyes shut. You couldn’t figure out why, but you felt a deepening sadness when you pulled away. Azriel seemed reluctant to let go. You pushed onto your tiptoes, pressing a kiss onto Azriel’s cheek. He closed his eyes, taking a deep breath.

“Take care, Azriel,” you said to him.

“You do the same,” he responded, opening his eyes, and letting one hand take your own. He rubbed his scarred thumb over the back of your hand as you stepped back, taking Rhysand’s hand in yours.

When you let go of Azriel’s grip, the world spun in black and gray, and you felt a single tear slip down your cheek.

When you landed, you found yourself standing in the middle of a busy cobblestone street near the large gates to the entrance of Velaris. Fighting off the nausea, you leaned forward, and Rhysand placed a comforting hand on your back. 

“Does that ever get less disorienting?” you panted.

“I’ve been doing it for about 400 years. I don’t think I’m the right person to ask,” he laughed.

You took a few more gasping breaths, trying to steady yourself. As you did, the familiar scents of your childhood city filled your senses—the sweet smell of baking bread and the yeasty delight wafting from the baker's square. You stood upright, peering around at the gray stone buildings with the banners of the Night Court flying high above their spires. Your heart felt suddenly full as you envisioned yourself walking through the streets with your mother, seeing the world from so much closer to the ground. You tried not to let your mouth fall open in awe.

Rhysand gave you a light smile. “You recognize this?”

“I spent a few years here in my early childhood.”

“It’s a pretty magical place to grow up,” Rhysand remarked, looking around.

You nodded slightly.

Rhysand’s gaze landed on you. “You don’t have to leave, you know? You can stay here. We can find you a place to live.”

You shook your head, smiling politely while looking at your feet. “It’s alright. Somewhere else is calling me. I just need to find it.”

Rhysand nodded. “I understand. Sometimes we have to carve our own paths.”

You nodded again.

“If anything happens, or you need anything, you will always have a home here,” Rhysand assured you.

You tried to push down the tears and the lump forming in your throat as you smiled at him. He gestured to the gates. “This is the closest I can get you to the exit without putting you outside.”

“It’s perfect,” you replied.

“You have everything you need?” he asked.

“More than enough,” you responded.

Rhysand nodded lightly, reaching out his hand to shake yours, but instead, you took a step forward and wrapped him in a hug. He hugged you back. “Thank you,” you said.

“Of course,” he responded as you pulled back, turning and walking toward the shining steel gates.

“Be safe,” Rhysand called.

“I will,” you called back, before stepping outside the gates of Velaris and into the wilderness, immediately feeling a hole forming in your stomach as you walked farther and farther from that wondrous, shining place.

To my readers, much love. Be prepared for what's to come, we're getting serious out here. @thatacotargirl @mcuamerica @lilah-asteria @florabelll @fightmedraco @marvelbros-oneshots @mariahoedt @quinzzelx @romantasyreader28 @minnieoo @mysteriouslydeafeningwerewolf @annabethgranger123 @krowiathemythologynerd @scatteredstardustt @romantacyreader28 @caroline-books @slytherintaco @sevikas-whore @sidthedollface2 @405rry @sleepylunarwolf @acourtofbatboydreams @quiettuba @julesofvolterra

[strawberrystepmom]

to forgive is divine & to err is human

pairing: Natsuo Todoroki x F!Reader (romantic), Touya Todoroki x F!Reader (familial)

word count: 7.5k

about: when Touya is released to Natsuo’s care following his 8 year prison stay, the fragility of the dynamic between the three of you threatens to derail everyone involved.

contents: cw: contains descriptions of depression, trauma, smoking, bad coping mechanisms, alcoholism, Touya dyes his hair black in a white sink (ugh). angst with a happy ending, set in canon universe but not canon compliant, established relationship between Natsuo and reader (married), Touya and reader are both assholes at certain points.

notes: tbh I've been meaning to repost this and since I'm currently in my "yes girl give us nothing" era, the time has come. Thank you to everyone (then and now) that has read this baby bc I did indeed put my ol' Kendussy into it so I didn't really change anything about it other than fixing grammar and I'm sure there are still mistakes. This is is how I wrote a year ago and that's okay and I'm proud of how far I've come.

Posting this as a double feature bc it feels too idk self promo-y to split them up again so enjoy my creature feature with my beloved Natsuo and his stinky brother. chain divider thanks to @/cafekitsune ♡

The large, red letters across the paperwork make your eyes hurt by simply gazing at them. 

“RELEASED” stamped with what you can tell was a mostly dried out ink pad, the red darker at the beginning of the word than at the end. You wish you could close the growing pit in your stomach knowing Natsuo will soon arrive back to your home, rehabilitated brother in tow, but the uncertainty makes it hard to settle as you re-stack the documents given to you by the Hero Public Safety Commission when they formally announced they would permit Touya’s release so long as someone would be responsible for him.

When the conversation came up, Natsuo volunteered without a second thought. It hurt at first that he did not ask you before making the decision but after having spent nearly a decade at his side, you trusted his judgment. Six months after the initial inquiry, you still do. Touya is a practical stranger, someone you have only met through grainy video chats, but you have been briefed by many HPSC coordinators. They have conducted home visits, interviewed both of you as if you were the criminals, combed through every bank account and piece of mail to ensure that they are putting their inmate into good hands. A good word from Endeavor, something your husband reluctantly accepted, sealed the decision. Your eyes scan over the handwritten letter from Enji, tucked in the stack of documents. 

“No one is more qualified to care for his brother Touya than my son Natsuo. He is a licensed medical professional, specializing in psychology and mental health services and has experience in dealing with traumatized children. I ask that the Commission consider no other placement for Touya.”

A tired sigh escapes as you flip through a few more pages, squinting through descriptions of you and Natsuo. Your personalities, your hobbies, where you work, who you associate with - all vital information, the panel assured you. The final page of the documents has the official ruling, the top left corner of the page curled in from how many times the pair of you have read over it.

“Todoroki Touya, thirty two years of age, is to be released to the custody of his brother Todoroki Natsuo, twenty eight years of age. Todoroki will be required to wear a location monitoring device at all times per the agreed upon terms of release. He is not permitted to be in contact with any of his prior associates. If contact is initiated, he will be required to return to the custody of the HPSC immediately and will no longer be eligible for release.”

Your eyes scan the document again and again, searching for some kind of strange loophole that could prevent all of this from happening. Guilt crawls up your spine and makes you shudder at the thought. How could you not want this for your husband? He has spent years dreaming of having a second chance to love his brother differently, to help him heal. It makes you feel vile to even entertain negative thoughts about Touya. 

Touya. You know little about the man aside from his name, or names, rather. His time as Dabi concluded, he was sentenced to 8 years of rehabilitation instead of prison. A victim of child abuse needed recovery, the commission reasoned, and they were willing to give him the space to do so within reason. The entire Todoroki family agreed with and supported the commission and their decision, his siblings and parents being granted permission to visit him if they chose to do so. 

Natsuo went as frequently as possible, excitedly telling you how much his brother has improved after every visit, eagerness infectious. You listened to his every word, rapt, as he talked about how different Touya looked now that he was eating well, how far he had come, how he seemed emotionally stable for the first time in his life. Genuine excitement danced in his eyes at the thought of having his brother back, not a shell of a boy or a man. Not Dabi but Touya, someone who was cruelly taken from him when he was too young to fully understand why. 

The true agony was seeing the metaphorical stitches ripped open, cruelly and callously. The entire country was witness to the explosive truth - Touya Todoroki was alive. Even Fuyumi with her limitless poise gnawed her lower lip hoping it would ground her enough that she could stay strong for everyone else. “I can handle this,” she assured you as you wrapped your arms around her shoulders the day after the video aired. She knew the person who would need you the most was her brother. Looks were deceiving - Natsuo was big and strong, a grown man, but his feelings were delicate. She trusted no one but you to look after him.

Natsuo had only asked you to be his girlfriend weeks before his brother revealed his true identity publicly. You will never forget the way grief was etched into all of his features, his strong brow downturned for weeks; retraumatized. It took every ounce of strength in his body to muster a smile, much less anything else, but he did it. For Fuyumi and Shouto, for his mother. 

You can remember every moment of the years following Touya revealing himself. The nights when Natsuo woke up sobbing, burying his face into your chest and balling the fabric of your shirt up between his fists as if it would keep him from losing touch with reality completely. He stopped eating for days at a time, depression sinking him into depths he didn’t know existed. You were always there with a soothing touch and okayu, a rice porridge Fuyumi taught you to make for him. 

“When Touya died, it’s all he would eat,” she explained. Your heart crumbled at the thought of a 13 year old version of your beloved future sister in law having to keep her 9 year old brother moving through the pain of loss. How did they keep themselves together?, you wondered more than once as she breezed through the difficult times with a tight smile. 

The more you watched the man you love sink, the more conflicted you felt about Touya. Those feelings lingered even into today. Natsuo is healing, therapy and love and compassion all coming together to create a whole man instead of pieces of a hurt child in a big body, but you can’t help the simmering anger you feel when you think about watching him experience the hurt in real time. Some memories stay etched forever. 

Natsuo continued to live despite the difficult times. You helped him study and make his way through medical school - a feat that he often credited you wholly for. It wasn’t true but the praise always feels good. Three years after Touya was sentenced, Natsuo opened his clinic that offers a variety of therapeutic services for children with difficult quirks or those who have suffered because of them. A year after that the two of you were married. 

“I knew you were the one when you gave me a reason to keep trying,” he tearfully admitted as you exchanged vows during your small wedding ceremony. The details weren’t for everyone else to know, but the pair of you knew exactly what he was talking about and the admission still makes you feel weepy if you start to think about it for too long.

Love feels like too shallow of a word to explain how you feel about him which is why you agreed to this in the first place - your love for Natsuo is stronger than your distaste toward Touya. You remind yourself of the mantra as you hear voices outside of your front doorstep, one immediately recognizable as belonging to Natsuo. You stand and take a deep breath, composing yourself and closing the file folder on the table as the door opens and the two white haired men crowd into the small genkan, talking amongst each other. 

“We’re here!”

A practiced, measured smile is what you can manage as you watch the situation carefully. Touya scratches the back of his head and offers a small and impersonal wave and you’re surprised by how different he looks. Thin but healthy, his skin grafts have been properly secured, his lashes are the same white as the ones that frame your husband's kind, gray eyes. The similarities between the two are striking but so are the differences - Natsuo greets you with a smile and a peck on your forehead and Touya glowers from the doorway. 

“Welcome home, Touya,”

He looks around, eyes narrowed as he takes in the sights of your well lived in home. It reminded you eerily of the way the representatives from the commission sullied your safe place away slowly, searching every corner to make sure you would not enable any more bad behavior from the man standing in the doorway. Your home had only just begun to feel like yours again.

“Nice place. Guess that’s what being married to a doctor gets you.”

His crass comment made you feel stricken, flinching slightly as your practiced smile wavers. You aren’t Fuyumi, full of endless grace and forgiveness - you can’t fake it. You aren’t Natsuo who believes in the potential of people more than anyone you’ve ever met. You are you and right now you are angry. Clenching your fists in a way you hope is imperceptible, you fake a laugh and your husband looks at you with wide eyes, noticing your change in demeanor.

“Well, it’s your place too now. Guess that’s what being a doctor's brother gets you.”

Touya purses his lips and nods, arms folded across his chest. You look over his scars, his healed skin, his cold eyes. “Do you want to show him to his room, babe?” Natsuo asks, voice shaky, as if he’s anxious for your response. “I can find it myself,” Touya answers for you, heavy boots in his hands as he pads through your home toward where his room lies. You spent weeks helping Natsuo prepare it for him, filling it with photos and books to help him gain back the time he lost while he was away. The taste in your mouth is nothing short of bitter and sour as you think about it.

“I don’t know what that was about, I asked him no-,” you raise your hand, cutting your husband off mid sentence as your fake smile finally falls and gives way to a slight frown, corners of your mouth downturned. “Don’t worry about it.” 

Touya has always felt suspicious of you. Your intentions, your affections for his brother, your involvement with his family - it’s hard not to be uncertain about someone who fits so flawlessly in the dysfunctional outline created by being a Todoroki. What are you hiding? What do you want? 

He tosses his boots down on the floor of the room at the end of the hallway. Instinctually, he knows this is his space. Covered with childhood photos of the Todoroki family, a quilt he received as a child covering the bed, he wants to be impressed with the effort put in but instead he feels hollow. This life never fit him in the first place, happy smiles for photos and dinners and whatever the fuck was expected of him, and now he had no choice but to live it. 

It is a hell of a lot nicer than the four white walls that housed him for eight long years. The bed looks a lot more comfortable, he thinks as he settles down on the edge of it, lying back with his arms behind his head. Fixing his gaze on the ceiling, he takes a moment to think in the silence of the space. The entire car ride his brother talked about you and your life together. Touya eventually began to tune him out, watching the trees pass by the window with the occasional red light flashing on his monitoring anklet catching his attention.

Rehabilitated. The connotations of the word weighed heavily on Touya - one fuck up and it would be so easy for you to convice Natsuo to send him back. You could never understand him the way that his family does. You couldn’t forgive him the way they had either, something both of you would never communicate to each other. 

“Hey,” Natsuo’s voice rasps from the doorway and Touya sits up slightly, grunting his response. “You like it alright?”

“It’s fine.” 

Natsuo sighs, carefully entering the room and shutting the door behind him as he slumps down on the bed next to his brother, shoulders sagging beneath the weight of the huge change that has come over his otherwise peaceful life. “You don’t have to lie, Touya.”

Touya sits up, using his elbows to support his weight, and offers a half smile toward his brother. “I’m not lyin’, it’s fine. Just feels like too much.”

Natsuo nods, trying to tamp down his urge to play therapist instead of brother. It was something he did all too often growing up and probably why he has made fixing people his mission in life. Touya was no exception.

“It’s the least we can do. You’ve been through a lot.”

We, Touya thinks to himself. Always we. He wonders how much Natsuo has surrendered of himself for your sake. Does he have any hobbies besides being a doting husband? Is his world filled with anything besides this little bubble the two of you live in?

“Don’t act like she had anything to do with all of this, Natsu. I was released to you.”

Touya slips a hand in his jacket pocket and fishes around for his pack of cigarettes, popping one out of the packaging with expert precision and sticking it between his lips as his brother sits next to him silently. “Lemme guess, need to do this outside?” 

Natsuo nods and Touya sighs, sliding off of the bed and leaving a rumpled quilt behind him. Heavy footsteps trail down the hallway as he peers into the kitchen and notices the backdoor, quietly slipping through it only to be met with a glowing red cherry on the other side, smoke streaming from your mouth as you stand with a cigarette between your fingers.

“Didn’t take you for the type,” he starts, pulling his lighter from his pocket and clicking it until a bright flame catches the cigarette dangling from between his lips. Once upon a time he would’ve just used his quirk but the prescription blockers he was given by court order prevented that. “All he ever talks about is how perfect you are.”

“Looks can be deceiving,” you shoot back, flicking your cigarette ashes onto the ground below before taking another drag. 

The mutual distrust permeated the air between the two of you. Touya reminded you so much of your father in law it was like looking at another version of him. You reminded Touya of everything he hated about this world - false pretense and unattainable perfection. He doubts you have ever walked around without a hair out of place, a Todoroki would never.

“Any other deep dark secrets I should know before being trapped inside of this house with you 24 hours a day?”

You chuckle, dropping your cigarette on the ground and stomping it out, bending to pick up the butt once you’re done. 

“Your brother won't let me drink anymore,” you start, hoping the vulnerability warms your brother in law. His steely gaze convinces you otherwise and you begin to walk away, arms folded over your chest with a cigarette butt in your fist. “Just another fun part of the aftermath of your little warpath.”

Touya knows he fired the first shots but he’s taken aback at your accusatory tone. 

“Anything else you want to question me about? Figured the commission briefed you on all of my dirty laundry.”

He shakes his head and exhales smoke through the corner of his mouth, the plumes drifting in your direction. “Good chat, Touya.”

The back door slams as you enter your home through it, windows rattling slightly. Your first instinct is to pour a drink but the reminder of your rock bottom lingers on your mind as you instead toss your cigarette in the trash and turn down the hall and head to your bedroom, Natsuo sitting on the bed.

“Why does he hate me so much?”

You hate how hysterical your voice sounds, anxiety rising like bile. Rising to his feet, your husband gathers you against his chest and presses a kiss to the top of your head. 

“Give him time, he’ll warm up.”

You don’t share your husband’s boundless optimism as you hear the back door slam and hear footsteps heading to the bedroom opposite yours. Natsuo plants another soft kiss atop your hair and squeezes your hand gently as he walks back over to Touya’s room. 

“You alright?” Natsuo asks and Touya rolls his eyes, shrugging off his jacket and draping it across a hook on the back of the door. “Fine. Thanks for the concern.”

Natsuo slips through the door completely and closes it softly behind him, leaning against the solid wood.

“What happened out there?” 

Touya chuckles and shrugs, sitting on the bed in the same place he had left. “Nothing worth mentioning. I’ll make sure I keep my bottles hidden from her though.”

His eyes widened, Touya’s antagonistic tone nothing new, his shock coming from the fact you told him about your struggles with substance abuse in the first place. It wasn’t a secret but it certainly wasn’t a fun fact you gave out at trivia night. 

“Uh, yeah, thank you.” Natsuo fumbles through his words, unsure of the right thing to say. “That would be great. She has come a long way but there are still times that are difficult, especially when big changes occur.”

Your substance abuse issues began about a year after your marriage. Blissful happiness wasn’t enough to numb the intense pain of the years prior but copious amounts of whiskey while Natsuo was busy with work were good enough. Blind confidence convinced you he didn’t notice a thing, not your sunken eyes or decreased appetite, but he did and he confronted you as gently as he could.

The next day you started therapy of your own and have continued to go to meetings for others struggling with addiction since then. Nothing drastic has happened in your life since you quit drinking, calm falling over the Todoroki household, making it easier for you to maintain your wits.

He would never say it but Natsuo truly worried about your sobriety. Every time he left for a trip or wine was passed around at family dinner, he wondered if it would be the day you changed your mind. Sticking with you was easy, though. You did the same for him at his low point and he would never stop doing it for you.

“She smokes, you know that?”

Natsuo nods, Touya’s raspy voice breaking the silence caused by his brother’s overthinking. “Have to let her have one vice, you know?” 

“I think you forget that you weren’t the only person who had to live through that fucking horrifying life! It didn’t just go away when you did.”

Your voice cracks as you raise it at your brother in law, his turquoise eyes wide as he watches you yell with an intensity that leaves your hands shaking. He has never looked more like your husband than he does now, the same white hair sticking up on top of his head, his fingers carding through it and yanking the strands as he paces your living room floor. 

“There are times I don’t think you realize that your actions have always had consequences because you’ve truly faced so few of them,” you feel your face flame as Touya’s expression turns from surprised to angry. “You didn’t have to clean up the messes. I did.”

Seeing the similarities makes something inside of you crack, a piece of your heart perhaps, your chest heaving. Regret consumes your mind; you’ve gone too far. You struggle to catch your breath, rubbing your fingers over your cheeks to hide evidence of your tears. Silence blankets the room like a dense fog.

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have said that.”

Your voice sounds meek and thin even to your own ears, the screaming match you have been engaged in rendering your throat raw. Painfully, you swallow what little spit you can and shut your eyes tightly as you listen to Touya’s rhythmic footfalls. Taking a deep breath, you sink into an armchair and dab at your eyes with the back of your hands, opening them long enough to see Touya staring intently at you. You drop your hands and sigh. 

“I can’t imagine what you have been through,” you hiccup, warm tears sliding down your cheek and dripping onto your wrists where they sit in your lap. “But you weren’t the only one going through it and I hope your brother can forgive me for saying all of this to you.”

The white haired man remains silent as you rise from your chair, hands balled into fists at your sides. Your gaze turns directly to him and you sniffle, tears subsiding. 

“He has always loved you despite everything you’ve done, exactly as you are. Please remember that.”

The words feel cathartic to say aloud, astute eyes narrowing to watch you as you turn on your heel and begin to walk away. Your tense posture tells him exactly how you feel about the entire situation and you reason that giving Touya space seems like the best option to end the strange battle of wills the two of you have found yourselves in. 

The gravelly sound of Touya’s voice from over your shoulder stops you in your tracks. 

“Then I owe it to him to try.”

There is no apology to be found in the words but you swear you can feel it as he says them, looking over your shoulder. For the first time you don’t see Dabi or Touya, you see someone completely new - your brother in law. A blank canvas, someone you could perhaps get to know under better circumstances. 

“We both owe it to him,” you respond as you turn around and make your way back to the chair you were sitting in moments ago, sitting stiffly against the back of the chair, shoulders still held tensely by your ears. “But how do we begin?”

Touya sighs and sits opposite you, rubbing his hands over his face as he rests his elbows on his knees.

“Hi, I’m Touya.” You laugh for the first time in a week and he can’t hide the half smile that comes across his face. “I did some fucked up things and spent eight years paying for them but I fucking love my family.” He stomps his foot, emphasizing his point. “That includes you now so we better get our shit together, yeah?”

Another tear falls as you nod, a watery smile settling over your features.

“Yeah, we should.”

A year later, when you think of your brother in law Touya, a memory from your childhood comes to your mind.

You are six, maybe seven and at the zoo. Your parents hold both of your hands dutifully to make sure you don’t run off, squeezing your tiny palms between theirs as you excitedly gasp and croon at birds, snakes, and butterflies. A flamingo makes you shout, a duck makes you quack.

Steps slow down as the three of you approach a large glass enclosure. “Black panther - panthera pardus” says the sign extending from the ground in front of the glass. You don’t know that, of course, until your dad reads it aloud to you, asking you to repeat the name.

“Panthera,” you repeat, a tiny voice bouncing back at you off of the glass.

As if you summoned the cat itself, it appears and you flinch. Black, lithe, wild eyed with muscles wound so tightly you can see the shape and size of each of them. You wonder if the panther knows how to relax, the same way your mom tells you to when you cry too hard. Maybe he needs to take a deep breath. 

“Why does he look so nervous?” 

In your young mind, the question surfaced before you had time to think about it. Of course he’s nervous, you reason, all of these people are staring at him like the attraction that he is. A dazzling thing to see locked between four glass walls. 

“He isn’t nervous honey, he’s probably just thinking about what he would do if he were outside with us.”

Pondering your mom's polite whisper, you nod and accept the answer. Grown ups always know best anyway. 

As a keeper enters the enclosure and carefully stalks toward the cat, your eyes widen in surprise. How can he let someone so close? You wonder if you could ever get that close to him. To see the sunlight in his fur just enough to reveal the spots under the dark of his coat or to watch his ears twitch as he listens for sounds of danger. Would he ever trust you? Could you trust him?

The crowd around the glass increases in size, delighted whoops as the keeper dangles the cleaned carcass of a large bird above the panther. You drink in the way he crouches and springs, tight muscles unwinding for a moment as large paws capture the food between them. 

A sight you’ll never forget.

A sight you see as Touya stalks through the living room of your home, tightly running his fingers through his hair. Muscles taut, standing and walking but trying to simultaneously fold in on himself.

“What the fuck would they even want to talk about?”

You sigh, shrugging at his words. The “they'' in question is the Commission and one year after his monitored release, he has been asked to return before the panel and answer some questions. Natsuo sits next to you on the floor in front of the chabudai, sorting through the papers sent to him to review ahead of Touya’s scheduled meeting. The three of you only found out about the date today.

“I dunno, Touya,” your husband shoots a bit impatiently toward his brother. “Let me read this and then I’ll tell you.”

Silently, you watch as he scans the documents, flipping them between his fingers. You hear the heavy pounding of Touya’s footsteps across the floor, reverberating through the otherwise silent room. Your house is too quiet. There is no crowd to filter out the silence.

“Potential restoration of privileges,” you hear Natsuo mutter from beside you. He continues to read to himself and you wonder what that truly entails. Would Touya be released from his supervised period completely? Would he be allowed to wander more than 50 feet away from his guardians? 

“God Natsu, read faster.”

Natsuo’s eyes shoot a frosty glance toward Touya from over the top of the papers in his hands. Placing them on the table, your husband sighs.

“They want to see your progress and maybe give you a little more freedom.”

Touya freezes in place for a mere second before turning on his heel and rushing to the edge of the table to snatch the documents and look over them, brows furrowed in concern that this is some evil trick the two of you have decided to pull on him. Revenge for the last twelve months of him and his fits, his angry words, his snarling. 

You’ve realized during the months he’s more meow than he is hiss.

“But,” Natsuo starts, clearing his throat, Touya tossing the papers back on the table and interrupting his brother with a clear as day “fuck!”, beginning to pace once again. “We have to give testimony.”

The royal we is something Touya has hated since the day he moved into your home. It always makes him feel as if it’s two against one, no separation between yourself and Natsuo and how you feel about the situation. He assumes if you’re mad at him, his brother is too. If you’re frustrated with Touya drinking the last of your nice matcha, Natsuo must be too. If you’re angry at Touya for dying his hair black in your bathtub and staining the shiny white tiles, Natsuo must be too.

He’s wrong about that, of course, his brother never holding any of his minor blunders against him. You don’t either but it would be tougher to convince Touya to believe that than it would be to build a house by hand, despite the tentative peace that exists between the two of you. You’ve allowed him into your home, your world, your once peaceful little family and have found that you are better for it. Natsuo is better for it. But there will always be a level of distrust. 

Like that panther you think of so often, Touya must wonder what it would be like to be free and trusted. 

“Touya, I don’t know how to say this,” Natsuo says, trying to keep his tone even and calm despite how anxious you know he must be feeling. You feel your stomach drop as well, balling the fabric of your linen pants between your palms to keep your hands from shaking. You looked at the date on the documents and noticed that it was a day you knew he’d be unavailable, working on a particularly tough case with multiple children from one family. “I can’t do it.”

Touya chuckles, a bitter and hollow sound that makes you flinch. “Of course not.”

“She can, though.”

Unexpectedly, Touya’s bitter chuckle turns into a belly laugh. You wonder if he’ll double over from the strength of it, scarred hands clutching his middle. Natsuo stands, approaching his brother carefully.

“Her?” He points at you and you feel like the one being questioned. Despite the grasp on the thighs of your pants, your hands do shake and your fingers slip. “She probably wishes I would have died every single day despite the little “play nice” bullshit she does for your sake.”

Gasping at the accusation, you hope he can’t see the way your eyes glance downward. You had assumed the two of you were past this, arguments coming to a halt around six months ago when you told him you simply didn’t have the energy for them anymore. 

You then began taking him to pick up cigarettes every other day, riding in your car together silently but comfortably. His fingers always drum against his thighs impatiently and you clear your throat, mouth dry until you arrive. You have to be close to him the entire time but you linger on the edges of the small shop in your neighborhood, giving the elderly shopkeeper time to fuss over Touya the way he needs. 

The two of you then silently ride back to your home.

“How could you say that, Touya?”

Much like the smaller version of you felt compelled to speak outside of the gleaming panther exhibit, you do the same now. Your voice sounds weak, thin, defeated. Natsuo rushes to your side, kneeling back down and placing one of his large arms around your shoulder.

“Oh here we go, gotta rush to defen -” 

Touya’s words are cut off by a sharp glance from his brother, a look he has never seen before. Smothering all of the fire inside of him, hurting the one person who has endlessly forgiven him, he is doused by humility.

“I don’t hate you,” you look up and see Touya’s turquoise eyes that are narrowed and hard staring directly at you. “I don’t wish you were dead,” you continue as you shrug your husband’s arm off of you and begin to stand. “In fact, I was stupid and thought we were finally fucking past all of this!”

Punctuating your shout with a frustrated grunt, you stomp off down the hallway and leave the brothers to figure it out amongst themselves. Natsuo would simply have to find a way to make the date work for him because you couldn’t bring yourself to beg the Commission to be merciful toward someone who detests you so much. You aren’t a big enough person for that, lacking the careful compassion of your husband.

“Are you fucking serious, Touya?”

Natsuo cursing at his brother makes his steely gaze falter, eyes glancing downward toward the floor. Touya remembers a time you went too far, not long after he first moved into your home, and he feels guilty knowing he has done the same.

“Whatever,” Touya responds dismissively as he stomps off. 

Natsuo hears the back door slam and rubs his hand over his face, eyes fluttering closed for a moment. He’s transported back to 12 long months ago when he didn’t even want to be in the same room as the two of you, the tension making him incapable of dealing with his own uncertainty about the ability to rehabilitate his brother. 

As Touya steps outside into the cool air, far less suffocating than the inside of the house, he fishes around in his pockets for his lighter and mutters obscenities as he realizes it is inside. Of course, he still can’t use his quirk thanks to the very strong suppressants he has to take daily as part of his release, so he flings the door back open and stomps inside. 

Hearing hushed muttering from the living room, he closes the door quietly and creeps to the doorway of the kitchen. He shoves himself against the wall, trying to hide from view as he hears your voice.

“I don’t understand why he won’t give me a chance, Natsu.”

His brother sighs and Touya sinks further against the wall. He knows the sound - fed up, frustrated, struggling. Natsuo is the last person he ever wanted to create those feelings in and shame, a bit of an unfamiliar feeling for him, creeps up his spine and makes his stomach turn. 

“You didn’t exactly make the best first impression, of course he doesn’t completely trust you.”

Natsuo’s words make you blow out air in frustration. Touya can’t see you, but he imagines you look as downtrodden as you always have after these little battles. His brother’s defense of his behavior is surprising, though, and he idly rubs his thumb across one of the graft scars on his hands.

“I know,” you relent with a sniff. “I know.”

Your words shift Touya’s perspective, precious humility trickling over him and making his left eye twitch - a stress reflex he tried to hide for years. 

You were the first person who noticed it and on your usual trip to the small store to pick up his cigarettes after, you passed him a box of anti-inflammatory medication and a bottle of eyedrops wordlessly as you buckled into your seat. He hasn’t twitched since.

Acknowledging the hurt you’ve caused is the first step of atonement, he remembers reading in a book Natsuo brought him while he was still locked up.

He peeks from around the wall, stretching his arms over his head and locking his fingers on the back of his skull, buried in poorly dyed black hair. Natsuo looks up through his light eyelashes at his brother who approaches carefully, settling on the opposite side of the table from where the pair of you sit.

“You can do it.”

The words are simple and cause both you and Natsuo to look up. Touya refuses to meet your puffy eyes and rises back to standing as quickly as he sat, slapping the tabletop once before skulking down the hallway to grab his lighter.

You and Natsuo resolve not to ask questions, with only two weeks until the panel meets time is of the essence and your testimony will be key to helping Touya if you choose to help him. 

Sitting in front of the panel is more nerve-wracking than you expected. A group of five familiar faces all staring at you with discerning eyes as you shuffle the hand-written pages of your testimony between your fingers.

These people have rummaged through your home on more than one occasion, interviewed all of your close friends and family, sifted through every piece of your dirty laundry and you’re at their mercy once again but this time you’re more willing.

“You may begin as you wish, Todoroki-san.”

Nodding respectfully toward the head of the panel, you clear your throat and exhale as you look down at the papers in your hands. You can feel Touya looking at you from across the room, Fuyumi and Shouto seated beside him and Rei on the other side of his sister, but refuse to look up at them for fear it’ll make the little courage you’ve summoned disappear.

“When Touya first moved into our home, I was uncertain of his ability to be rehabilitated.”

You spent the last two weeks reading this exact same speech to Natsuo, rehearsing it in your bedroom while pacing across the floor. The ink on the page is smeared in places from wet tears that dripped down onto the paper, black bleeding into blue and drying into rippled and raised spots. Those spots remind you of Touya, the way he has woven his way into part of your everyday existence. 

“The process of allowing him into our lives felt very invasive. Respectfully, our lives were torn apart in preparation for him. Our home was combed through, our mail was intercepted, my husband was followed by a member of this committee on his way home from the clinic he tirelessly uses as a means to help others on more than one occasion.”

You keep your tone even to avoid sounding accusatory. These are all facts the Commission themselves have confirmed via their own documentation but standing in the face of the very force that can decide your future as well as Touya’s is more intimidating than you expected.

“The day Touya moved in, our lives shifted in a way that no amount of preparation could have made us anticipate. Difficult interpersonal dynamics forced us to take a good hard look at the future of our family and the future of what we desired for Touya. How did we want his rehabilitation to look?”

Taking a breath, you look up from the sheet of paper for a moment to meet Touya’s gaze and it strikes you as odd to see something almost tender. You sniff, nose twitching, vowing to hold yourself together until you’re alone or with Fuyumi or anywhere but sitting in front of people who have made their living off of judging, doling out punishment, changing lives for better or worse.

“While we’ve had many difficult times, I am not here to talk about the difficulty I caused Touya with my inability to coexist for the first several months. Rehabilitation takes a team and I was not a team player,” you pause and hear shuffling from the seats across the room. “Despite this, Touya has dedicated himself to improvement and has continually adhered to every request the commission put forth in the original terms of his release.”

While you don’t want to continue to air out your dirty laundry, there is a therapeutic feeling in knowing you’re publicly admitting to handling things wrong. In front of Natsuo’s family, nonetheless. Touya’s family. Your family. 

At the end of this lies the fact that you are all a family and forgiveness is inherently woven through the relationships and bonds you share.

“It is the recommendation of both my husband and I that Touya’s privileges of release be expanded upon, including reduction of supervision and permission to travel to the homes of his mother and siblings independently if he chooses.”

Rising to your feet, you bow before the panel once more before walking toward the back of the room and quietly exiting as they take time to deliberate and make their decision. 

Touya rises and comes to the front of the room, standing before them. He hates the way he feels, like a caged animal with his muscles tensed, in a suit that doesn’t even belong to him because why the fuck would he ever own a suit? The sleeves are too long, it is Shouto’s after all, and he pulls the cuffs over his hands with his thumbs.

The panel head speaks and the room is so quiet you’re even unnerved from the other side of the door. Pressing your ear to the wood, you listen.

“Our decision will not be immediate. You can expect further communication from the panel in the coming weeks. As of right now, your terms of release remain the same until you are otherwise notified. Thank you for your time today, Todoroki-san.”

Touya bows and joins his family, missing the member he wishes to see the most.

You back away from the door as you hear the knob turn and rest against the wall, arms over your chest as you greet your in-law’s with a subdued smile. 

“Natsu will be so proud of you!” Fuyumi beams, rubbing your bicep in a comforting gesture. You just shrug, unable to speak. You exchange a few additional pleasantries with Shouto and Rei, wishing them goodbye as they leave you and Touya standing on opposite sides of the hallway.

“It’s okay, you know.”

Touya’s voice is a rasp, as always, and you look up through your eyelashes at him. Fiddling uncomfortably with the cuff of your shirt in the same way he’s been fiddling with his own cuffs all day, it just further emphasizes the similarities you share. It isn’t just love for Natsuo you have in common anymore.

“None of this shit has been easy and you’ve done your best. I’m not exactly a fuckin’ easy person to get along with.”

You chuckle, tension diffusing.

“I think you’re going soft, Touya.”

He chuckles back and your eyes meet, the two of you walking toward the center of the hallway to leave the building together and walk back to your car. Your footsteps are quiet and so are his, both of you slumping as you saunter out of the door and into the bright midday sun.

“Nah, just tired of being an asshole all the time.”

The news comes as you stand at your kitchen sink, Touya bent over as you help him rinse black hair dye down the drain. Your hands are wet, his shirt is soaked, but you agreed to help him after noticing a huge white patch still at the back of his head from his attempts to do it himself. 

“I dunno why you want it to be black so bad, don’t you want to look like Natsu?”

Touya snorts and the sound echoes through the steel basin. “I have to keep a little edge. Let me live.” You shut off the clean running water, allowing the dark droplets to work their way out of your sink. There was more rinsing to do but you wanted to be sure of how much more.

“It’s here!” Natsuo shouts from the doorway and you hear his hurried, large footsteps trek into the room, ripping of paper ringing in your ears.

You want to leave Touya’s side and go to Natsuo, to read over his arm, to see for yourself but you resolve to be patient and continue to lightly massage Touya’s scalp. He needs comfort right now, you can tell.

“Expansion of privileges,” Natsuo mutters to himself, scanning the page as quickly as he can. “Unsupervised access to other family homes! Holy shit!” 

Tossing the papers onto the counter, your husband bolts toward you and wraps his arms around your waist. “No, no, no,” you chant as he picks you up and you accidentally pull Touya’s wet strands of hair. He yelps and you let go, hissing apologetically.

“God Natsuo, down boy.”

Your snarky brother-in-law draws a giggle from you as your husband presses a kiss against your cheek and reaches down to slap him on the back. “Do you wanna tell mom or should I?” Touya looks up, head still dripping, and rolls his eyes at his brother. “I could just show up at her house, that’d have more impact.”

Wiggling away from Natsuo, you reach for the towel on the counter and wrap it around Touya’s neck so he can sit up and not drip black water all over your floor. He gives silent thanks in the form of a tight half smile and you smile back, stepping away to let the brothers converse about how they’re going to break the news to their siblings.

As you watch the two of them, the panther and his handler once again come back to your mind. 

The reason that the handler was able to come so close to the cat is because he trusted him. The cat could learn to trust others, to let people in, to let them be on his side. You won’t have to wonder if you could have gained the panther’s trust any longer and he won’t have to wonder what it’s like to be on the outside with the rest of us. 

[petalruesimblr]

Hello everyone! I'm back with another realistic part-time career with a bit of The Sims 3 twist and this time, it's a teen internship! Drawing inspiration from science programs such as BRAINYAC and GeoSciences Bridge Program designed for high school students which is perfect for our teens and they can even be promoted to a full Science career.

If you are interested, click on ’Keep Reading’ below for more information and pictures of the Landgraab Science Internship Career.

Landgraab Science Internship

Generations Version: Sim File Share | Base Game Version: Sim File Share ⚠️Download and use only one!

Attention, aspiring scientists! Dust off your lab coats and tighten those safety goggles because the Landgraab Science Internship is here to make your scientific dreams a reality. From potion brewing to genetic decoding, discover the thrill of discovery alongside industry experts. Say goodbye to mundane careers and hello to a future where innovation meets aspiration, one bubbling beaker at a time with Landgraab Science Internship!

Career Type: Part-Time Available for: Teens Available Languages: English Levels: 3 Rabbit Hole: ScienceLab Work Days: M,F,S Work Hours: 4PM - 7PM Does it have Carpool? Yes Does it have Uniforms? Yes (details under Final Notes) File Type: Package Min. Required Game Version: 1.42 Packs Needed: The Sims 3, Generations 📣All descriptions for the levels, tones and metrics as well as skills required, salary, uniforms and other details are provided on the pictures above.

NRAAS Careers Mod Generations Expansion Pack - if you choose the Generations Version.

I've used fairly common level names for this internship as I couldn't think of any others that fit perfectly. Some might sound familiar as I utilized them from The Sims and Sims 2 console games, such as Lab Assistant and Lab Cleaner respectively, although I haven't played those games myself, so the tones used here may differ. The work days for this internship are scheduled for Mondays, Fridays and Saturdays due to Thursday is considered as a holiday if you have the Seasons expansion pack and Shop Club meetings are on Tuesday and Wednesday if you have the Generations expansion pack. The package file includes uniforms and one of them is taken from the Generations expansion pack, specifically from the Catalyst Chemistry Lab Station (Chemistry table) excluding the goggles. Recognizing that not everyone may have this expansion pack, I've created two versions. The Generations version features a lab coat for levels 1 and 2, while the Base Game version uses base game outfits for all three levels. Please download and use only one version in your game! 📣 Upon reaching level three in their internship, teens will be eligible for promotion to the Science career upon applying once they become young adults. Instructions are provided in the picture above; right-click on it and select 'Open image in new tab' for a clearer view. As stated above, you will need NRAAS Careers Mod for these careers to show up in the game and as long as you have the latest version of it, it should work for higher patches. You can also read my #psa regarding these careers, click here. I’m not fluent in any other languages to translate so if anyone is interested in translating this career, please don’t hesitate to send me a message here, comment on this post or let me know in my Ask/Contact form (if you don't have a Tumblr account) and will let you know the details. I have tested this career in my game, so far it is working and all scripts are showing up. All feedback is very welcome to help me learn and improve my skills so please let me know if you experience any problems on your end and I’ll do my best to sort it as soon as possible.

MissyHissy step-by-step tutorial Twallan for the Career Mod S3pe

[postmodernbeliever]

stalker - fox mulder x female reader

at the fbi, your job is to watch who you're asked to. but on your own time, you watch fox mulder... and little do you know, he's watching you, too.

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my ao3 | word count: 3,518

content tags: sneaking around, embarrassment, stalking, longing, fox mulder is watching you, you are watching fox mulder, fox is a freak like you, fox likes weirdos, obsessive behavior, suggestive themes, you and fox just kinda eyefuck and nothing happens but god should it, cross-posted on ao3

✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✩ ✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✩ ✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✩ ✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°

they all call him spooky mulder. what a nickname, spooky- even in its mainstream use, it has not lost its effect. there was always something off about him, something unsettling, which piqued your interest. you liked it so much that you paid special attention. it was your nature to keep tabs; you watched him come and go from his basement office, all the while pretending to be down in the gutter of the j. edgar hoover building for any other suspicious reason than taking mental notes on him. 

sure, it may sound creepy, but this is your job- this is why the fbi has you on the payroll. you’re what they call “the eyes and ears”, and in a sense, you don’t really have a job. your cover is to work in the filing department, faceless and nameless, and keep things organized as they go off to different sectors. you are the one sending weapons to evidence (or elsewhere) and case files to agents (or not) at the heart of the organization, where you just become the signing-off signature. but that office, where you blend in, is how they use you best. orders directly from the top tell you who to watch and when to come forward with information. but they never assigned you to special agent fox mulder. as was his infamous passion project dubbed the X files, this was your unassigned interest within the bureau- he was your freakish fixation.

you followed his case files as they came to inconclusive endings. you noticed when his hair grew too long. you knew he liked the coffee from the break room by a.d. skinner’s office, but he liked the creamer they kept on the first floor, so he traveled cross-complex to make the cup taste just right. you’d read every report and drowned in his philosophical, metaphysical droning, admiring the prose so overdosed on sleep deprivation and the ramblings of a transcending mind. it was like twisted poetry, how he explained what each case had imparted upon him. the way he viewed sociology, the way he viewed intervention both divine and damned, the manner in which he proposed the forces at play work and how they are ever-changing and insurmountable… god, he really is a genius. everyone may think he’s insane, or that his work is a waste of valuable resources, but fox mulder’s mind was one to be entertained, one to be challenged. to let his power go misrepresented or his purpose go any less than unabated would be a crime (if anyone asked you.)

see, this is why it could be considered weird. you revered him like a deity, unapologetically idolatrous of his brainpower- and from a more internal, girlish yearning, you loved his face. god, that face. you had examined his personal files many times in the safety of your office, tracing invisible lines over the photographs of him; caressing the scrapes and bruises documented from altercations with suspects, drooling over his academy polaroids stashed away from old physical exams. he still looked as young and charming as he did in his old school photos. a young oxford man, beautiful, traumatized, in need of proof. his work demanded his darkest instincts and most disgusting thoughts, and you loved him for it, or at least the idea of what it turned him into. and as far as word travels, fox mulder bars no personality incontinuities. after all the stories of the blood he’s tasted at crime scenes and the horrific pictures of murders and monsters plastered on the walls of his murky office, he was more than just spooky. he was freakish, and uncomfortable, and alluring.

now, fox is no idiot. in fact, to even think your interest was going unnoticed was a major misjudgment of his perceptive abilities; the man is the best analyst in the crime division, for god’s sake. he's never missed a clue. yet somehow, in the midst of your innocent stalking, you’d imagined he never saw you standing in his basement hallway, or mingling in the first-floor break room by the irish cream. naivety never crossed into your work, but it clouded your visions when it came to him. he’d seen you every time, shifty eyes fidgeting with blatant secrecy. when the man who didn’t believe in random events saw you more than once, he began following your lead. 

fox mulder kept copies of your personal files on his desk and sifted through them often, trying to get any information on you to substantiate why you paid so much attention to him. aside from his widespread suspicion, he also had a sense for intent, and he felt you were of no harm. even lurking in the shadows, there was a comfort to your presence. that might be his creepy personality being used to unsettling beings, but he didn’t mind. he liked catching you looking. he liked the way your suit jacket never matched your pants, but always somehow coordinated even in clashing patterns. he liked how your hair curled like french fries at the bottom, wide and loose. he liked how your manicured nails were always dark and sharp, and blatantly against bureau policy. fox knew you were as new to the fbi as he, so not new at all, but a child to seasoned agents; he learned of your ridiculous retention of information, and that you read twice the clocked words per minute of the average american. he knew of your graduation from yale and your speedy completion of the academy, as well as your elevated skill for firearms, which immunized you from a majority of field training. he knows about your secret connection, yet not who it’s with, and that it’s ushered you into a disguised deep-level position. in less legal ways of determining, the agent discovered you were the president of your high school’s history club, as well as the chief editor of the newsletter, and your family had a summer cabin on the oregon coast. you were smart, valuable, integral, even- and your talents were being wasted under cover of the monotonous filing department. he knew more than you realized. but even with his disturbing understanding of you, fox couldn’t figure out why it was him you watched- you had no connection to him, no link to his work or anyone who aimed to sabotage it. of all your secrets, he seemed to be the biggest.

you’d never expected anything to come of your little infatuation, but fox mulder didn’t like to let things linger. so when you just so happened to be venturing into the basement for something in the archived evidence room, he went into pursuit. you swiped your key card in the automatic door, and he followed you inside and made sure to close it nice and loud behind you. the lock clicked, causing you to jump out of your skin, and he laughed.

“not a fan of followers, huh?” the man teased.

“you just locked us in here, sir!” you nearly choked. you’d never seen him up close and personal. his shirt was a wrinkled mess, but it looked so nice rolled up on his fair-skinned arms, and his hair was a lot darker in person than it looked in the pictures. so were his eyes. 

“sir? no, nobody calls me sir.”

“what should i call you, then?” you groaned.

“agent mulder. spooky mulder. basement boy. whatever floats your boat!”

“well, then, agent mulder,” you elected, “you just locked us in here!”

“is that what you’re worried about? don’t worry, i'm sure agent scully will come down soon enough. or maybe not. maybe you’re stuck in here with me.”

you pivoted and began walking down the first aisle of archives, trying to come up with something to grab to avoid blowing your cover. fox kept at your heels, poking his head playfully into your eyeline.

“looking for something… you?” he inquired.

“that’s agent to you.”

“no name? ooo… spooky,” he wiggled his eyebrows, and you suppressed the fluttering in your stomach. you thought in frustration, how dare he make wordplay hot?

“says you.” you negated.

“so you do know me!”

“everyone knows you, agent mulder.”

“oh, sure… but you’ve been watching me, haven’t you?”

you stopped between the alphabetized boxes marked by Hs and Js, biting your tongue. you watched as fox sauntered around to the front of you, leaning nonchalantly against the filing shelf and smirking. his hand raised to wipe his mouth, and you analyzed the rough calluses and ink splotches carving uniqueness into his knuckles. a deep cut rested along his thumbnail down to his wrist. you recognized it as a healed-over wound from an inconclusive case months ago- something he claimed to have involved lizard men.

“i- i’m not sure what you mean.”

“you’ve been following me around, taking note of what i do. i see you every day. sometimes in the break room, sometimes in the bullpen by the car desk, sometimes shooting guns down at the range room on saturdays like i usually am. you’re always… floating around.'' fox mused, running a hand through his thick hair. a few pieces curled agonizingly over the frame of his face, and you felt like dying.

“must be coincidences.”

“you know well as me that there are no such things as coincidences,” fox stated, “there are simply events that occur, and more often than not, they occur causally, or in my case, through spurious correlation, but nobody can ever seem to pinpoint the third invisible factor that links one event to another, except for me.”

“speak english, agent mulder, would you?”

“you’ve been following me, which caused me to notice you, which caused you to pretend you haven’t been, and so forth,” he sighed, “but you know what i’m saying, don’t lie. you’re a yale alumni, graduated summa cum laude with a double major in psychology and international affairs. you’re one of the smartest women in the building. so why are you acting dumb?”

your stomach flipped as he stepped closer to you, leaning down in all his six-foot glory to meet your gaze. swallowing thickly, you shoved your hand in a box labeled CONFISCATED Ka-Kz and fished out the first object you grasped: a bloodied kazoo. wincing in embarrassment, you waved it in his face and grimaced.

“i'm just down here for this.”

“for a murder kazoo.” he deadpanned.

“…yes.”

you turned away and began heading for the door, but a strong palm wrapped around your wrist, halting your stride. fox tugged you back, and you tried to keep your drooling gaze to a minimum at how handsome he looked when he was searching for answers.

“if you tell me what you want from me, i'll let you go.”

“i don't want anything.”

“bullshit,” the agent rolled his eyes, “everyone wants something, agent, even you. you’re a bad liar, you know that? that’s why you’re not under deep cover.”

how little you know, you thought with a smirk. “well, not everyone is made for danger.”

“no. you’re just made for stalking.”

you seized up, “i am not stalking you!”

fox grinned, liking how worked up you were becoming. “then why are you always in the corner of my eye, agent?”

you huffed in desperation, weighing your options. you could,

a) keep lying.

b) tell fox the truth.

c) bang on the locked door and scream until someone saves you from spooky mulder.

none of your options were appealing, but you weren’t getting out of here if you didn’t choose. option A would drag it out, and option C would get him fired, so you only had one path if you wanted to control casualties and your level of embarrassment in one shot.

as he stood patiently waiting, tie so horrendously knotted that it took all your willpower not to tug him down by it, you gave in. 

“well, agent mulder, you… you’re interesting.”

“am i?”

“y-yes. you do amazing work. you catch killers. and you… write beautifully.”

fox chuckled softly, “you like my writing? what, are you the one who files my field reports or something?”

now may not be a good time to admit you tweaked the computer system to always assign you files submitted by agents between L and P in the alphabet just to be the sole individual who received fox’s files, so you withheld the truth a bit. it will come back to bite you in the ass when he looks into the signatures on his official paperwork, but oh, well.

“every so often,” is what you settled on. “you have something to say, and you say it like you’ve been contemplating the proper phrasing forever. it’s always so eloquent and intelligent and… fascinating.” you stopped praising him, feeling shame wash over you like a bad shot of vodka.

“well, aren’t you a regular fan?” fox rested his head against the filing shelf, eyes raising to the ceiling. his neck stretched open far enough that you could watch his adam's apple bob as he spoke. “glad to know my conclusions aren’t just the ramblings of a lunatic.”

“quite the opposite, agent mulder.” you blushed.

fox looked back down to you, and his puppy dog eyes bore holes into your cheeks. “i know a lot about you, you know. i know where you went to high school. i know you also use the irish cream for your cup of joe every day. i know you drive that baby blue car out in the garage, with the stupid “honk if you love labs” bumper sticker. but what i don't know, agent, or rather what i can’t figure out, is why you’re working in the filing department when you should be on an analyst team, or why you’re so insistent on following me around work. so, can you enlighten me with the truth?”

the truth. even when encountering you, his true colors show. you would be frustrated if it wasn’t so attractive how he interrogated you.

with a shaky breath as support, you said, “i want to know you.”

“is that all? you just… want to know me?”

“we don't work together. you’re too off-limits. my orders require me to stick to the mundane and watch from afar. but you, agent mulder, you are never mundane. you sit down here every day and crane over horrific cases, imagining the unimaginable, and all in the stuffy confines of a basement office that people would rather die than visit you in. y-you’re terrifying, you’re… fresh air.”

fox would never admit to it, but his entire body experienced pins and needles at the sound of your voice. in the least creepy way possible, you reminded him of the school librarian from his childhood- thin glasses, a loose blouse, and a voice thick and sweet, just how he liked his coffee.

“well, as the resident spooky one around here, i'd say you’re more freakish than me. you’re quite the stalker.”

“that's my business.”

you put the kazoo back in the box, frustrated you even attempted to jeopardize the secrecy of your nature for being down in the basement. fox’s hazel eyes followed your lethal nails as they replaced the object, and he wondered if they hurt when they grazed skin. a part of him really wanted to find out.

the man huffed, “so that’s it? no plans to kill me, or turn me in to the boss for my beliefs?”

“nope. just… watching from a distance.”

“you could watch up close if you wanted to. i could really benefit from someone so smart as you are, and someone who has such a knack for detail,” he teased. “you seem to have a way with words yourself, agent.”

“well, i appreciate the offer, but my hands are full as it is, agent mulder.”

“call me fox.”

in a flustered blackout, you blurted, “but no one calls you fox!” and the agent’s pupils blew wide.

somehow, deep inside, the idea of you knowing his secrets without ever speaking to him turned him on. you were a watcher, and as a profiler he’d even go so far as to call you a creep- a girl with a case of muldermania following his every move and sniffing the air when he walked past. he saw it in how your hands shook before him, how you craned your neck back in submission, how your eyes darted between his eyes and lips with fervor; how you swallowed nothing every five seconds in what he couldn’t discern between fear and anticipation. you had slightly sick motivations, so driven by the feeling his writing gave you and the idea of what it must be like to be inside his mind. and he liked it. he liked being studied, and understood, and having no say in it being done by a pretty girl like you. the man took another step closer this time, and you didn’t budge. this was one of his personal space invasions he’s so famous for- the kind people complain about when they’re put on the job with him. also the kind you’d dreamt of since you learned of his existence beneath the bureau.

“but you do when you think of me, don’t you?” he crooned, knowing how to play you from one freak to another. “when you think of watching me when you’re alone, and how we might interact. you call me fox in that pretty little head of yours, right? so say it.”

“w-well…”

“come on, don’t leave me hanging.”

you licked your lips as the heat of his breath danced across your face, and you flushed. “a-as much as i'd love to stay and talk, i have my obligations. not everyone is at your whim, fox.”

in a hormonal lapse, fox let out a soft, “mmm,” and flashed his adorable grin for you to fuss over. “that's too bad, then.”

“but,” you interrupted, “if you ever need, um, proofreading… or help, i can- you can, uh, maybe leave me a note? or something?”

“on your desk? in the filing department, right? in that office with the blue walls and the photograph of you and your chocolate lab, the one who inspired your bumper sticker, agent?” fox revealed, showing his intellectual hand.

with a dry mouth, you mustered a meek, “yeah, that’s the one.”

“good. maybe i'll spray it with my cologne, so you can savor the moment.”

“excuse me?” you squeaked.

“come on, agent,” fox winked, “just a joke. unless you’d like that, y’know, i won’t judge.”

and of course you would. he smelled like dust and paper, with a little sugar left from the coffee he drinks, and a little smoke from the candles he lights when they turn the lights off on him overnight in that dark hole of an office.

“you live up to your name, spooky mulder,” you bit your lip.

“so do you,” fox agreed, “what would we do without our eyes and ears?”

“… what did you just say?” you could barely muster a voice.

“you heard me.” 

fox slipped a hand in his suit pant pocket and revealed your business card- not the filing office one, but for your cover. you have no idea how he’d gotten one, because the only place you keep them is in the locked safe beneath your desk. you were in bold, with your full name, position, boss, and reserved extension line. you thought of fox breaking into your office at night- while you were at home having dreams you’d never admit to- and sifting through your belongings, touching all that was yours, cracking open your secrets. you shuddered as he placed the card gently in your hand, his fingers trailing against the veins at the center of your wrist, where he could feel your pulse hammering.

the man slid past you in a split second, heading for the evidence room door and jiggling the handle upwards. when it unlocked, he shot a premeditated glance towards your mortified face and said, “somebody ought to get this fixed. see you around, agent.”

just about shaking, you stood in the aisle, dizzy from the sound of his departure and how every word fell from his lips with such intention. after a moment of weakness in which you let yourself lean against the filing shelf and catch your breath, you straightened out your blazer and made for the door. when you came into the hallway, you saw spooky mulder standing in his doorframe, thumbing through a file with his silver-rimmed glasses sliding down the bridge of his nose. you turned quickly towards the stairs and left him to his devices, those being the file that was full of pictures of you.

all this time admiring from afar made you feel like a fool. now you were stuck with a lingering conversation and the overwhelming urge to visit the archives again, because someone downstairs had his eye on you. he knew you by way of his own eyes and ears, and there are a few things that aren’t in your files he’d like to learn. 

and to think you were the stalker!

[cursingtoji]

𝐂𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞𝐬 — 𝐃𝐞𝐯𝐢𝐥!𝐒𝐮𝐤𝐮𝐧𝐚

part 2 of Sweet Sacrifice

summary: Chainsaw man universe where humans can form contracts with devils in exchange of sacrificing something valuable.

cw: chainsaw man spoilers (anime only), self insert into csm canon, reader is in love with Aki, dub-con, heavy oral (f -> m), deep throat. choking, bruises, spit, failed attempt of masturbation, Sukuna has a normal human form (at least for now), reader goes into Sukunas domain, as per the last chapter reader is a virgin 4k words.

note: this was very fun to write, quick info… for reasons of “just cause” himeno is not into aki in this series. also i have plans for the next chapters but feel free to speculate

After the last mission with Aki you felt like everyone at the public safety building looked at you weirdly, like they were trying to understand how a not so skillful hunter finished a strong devil by herself.

Aki thankfully taught you to not share too much about your devils and the contracts, so you knew how to defend yourself if anyone asked you about Sukuna.

“Makima-sama wants to see us” Aki said, joining your walk.

“Great” you mumbled ironically but followed him anyway.

Aki knocked and you heard Makima calling you in.

After a quick greeting she started asking about the report from your previous assignment together. You haven’t read it before Aki submitted it so you allowed him to confirm the information.

“...So you summoned Sukuna with a cursed word and he appeared beside you?” Makima asked you directly.

That was not what happened. Sukuna took your body. Aki would not lie about this, but you know the actual truth is not what he would’ve written as well. Having Sukuna taking control of your body was a huge risk for the public safety, the type of risk that could get you executed like a devil.

“Actually—“ he started.

“I’m not asking you” her eyes did not leave yours.

“No, my contract with Sukuna allows me to use his strength as it was my own, he does not manifest physically as another entity. If Hayakawa wrote that, my apologies, he was hurt and probably confused, I should’ve explained better” you took the fault knowing that Aki did not write what Makima said.

“Very well” she seemed pleased with your answer and you could hear Aki exhaling relieved, “What did Sukuna take?” the question got you in alert mode. That was your superior asking. What should you say? Would she know if you lie?

“Makima-sama, with all due respect, I don’t think she needs to disclose that information” your eyes widened, you never saw him standing up for Makima like that.

“It’s nothing that’s gonna be missed,” you added, not wanting Aki to suffer any consequences.

“Fine, congratulations y/n, thanks to your new contract you have an offer to join the 3rd division.”

“What?” Aki and you said at the same time.

Makima slid an envelope to you.

“They need an answer till the end of the week, you may go now. Hayakawa you stay” you bowed, still a little confused and left the room not without exchanging a look with Aki, “Leave the door open” she ordered.

On your way out you saw a blond kid waiting outside, upon hearing Makima's voice he quickly fixed his posture and entered the room.

You haven’t even taken the offer and Makima was already replacing you as Aki’s partner. Bitch.

You went back to your desk, and found that week’s patrol shift. Today you were by yourself, patrolling a chill area and replying to the radio channel which the police use to call for public safety back up.

You sighed, knowing this day was gonna be long and boring. Leaving the building you decided to walk to your area, using a path Aki and you would always take. But before you got there, something drew your attention to an alley. It was the middle of the day, you doubted a devil could be there, but either way you carefully approached the source of the noise and recognized Aki’s voice.

Hiding behind an irregular wall you listened to the conversation. You couldn’t see them without them seeing you but it was obvious he was beating the shit out of someone, you assumed it was the skinny boy from before.

“Makima-san is not the kind of woman a punk like you should be chasing” followed by the indistinguishable sound of fist hitting a face.

“Sounds to me you like her too” the boy replied. You felt your heart sinking.

Why was Aki defending Makima? So what if that newbie wanted to be her new pet? To hell both of them!

But why does Aki have to get involved? You wanted him to defend your honor and only you—

What honor?

You heard that familiar and yet strange voice inside your head.

You swallowed your shame and left the alley, wanting to focus on anything but Aki.

It’s not like you could have him anyways.

“You greedy asshole” Denji kicked Aki’s balls once again, “I saw you partner, what else do you want, huh?” he kicked again, “You get to hang out with a hot chick like that everyday and you’re giving me shit for wanting the same with Makima? Fuck you” before he could give another kick he saw Aki wasn’t getting up, “Shit”.

Two days later, when the sun was setting you ran into Aki when you were leaving a house after finishing executing a small devil. He was talking to the cops outside.

“Hey, I beat you on this one” you smiled at him.

“I heard you replying the call on the radio” he defended, “Just wanted to come by in case…”

“In case what? In case I couldn’t handle it? Please, that devil was the size of a pigeon” you made a sign to the cops that it was done.

“So, do you miss me already?” you teased him.

“In comparison to those two I miss you every hour of the day” he threw that statement unbothered, it was enough to make some blood rush to your face.

“That’s right, you have a fiend now as well” you giggled imagining how Aki dealt with the fiend, he confirmed with a grumpy face.

“Have you accepted the offer?” he asked.

“Oh I forgot about it” indeed you haven’t even opened the letter yet, “I’ll take till the end of the week.”

“Why?”

“I’m just not thrilled to work with a bunch of freaks.”

“That's basically what division 4 is now” you laughed and he smiled.

“They are living with me, you know” Aki picked up a cigarette and lit it up, you watched waiting for him to continue, he took a long drag and extended the cigarette to you, “Power, the fiend and Denji, the Chainsaw”.

“Chainsaw huh…” you wondered, “Why though?”

“Makima-sama asked me to” you felt that weird tightening in your stomach again.

“You’re an idiot.”

“I guess I am.”

Since you haven’t given an answer to the offer yet, Makima put you with division 4 on a mission the next day to recover a piece of the gun devil in a hotel. There you got to meet the new members and saw your senpai, Himeno.

“They don’t look so bad” you whispered to Aki, he even got the devils to call him senpai… after a bribe but whatever works.

“Give it some time.”

During that week so far you have been feeling weird, ever since that night with Sukuna actually, if you can even call it that. Every night after a stressful work day you recalled that event, silently expecting him to show up again, but nothing. So you managed to drift your focus to something else, by now that tactic only made you more and more horny.

“y/n will give you one as well” your attention was drawn back to the current situation when Himeno put an arm around your shoulders.

“What?” the team was looking at you weirdly, especially the Chainsaw boy, “I’ll give a what?”

“A kiss to whoever defeats the devil.”

“Not a chance.”

Denji started to talk about how he already decided who he’s gonna kiss.

“…when it comes to sex stuff it feels way better when its with two people who get each other.”

You couldn’t hold back a scoff/laugh, it was automatic given the situation you were in, no one seemed to have noticed your reaction but when your eyes met Aki’s looking at you weirdly you decided to put an end to that subject, Himeno seemed to have convinced Denji anyways.

“Let’s go” you called and all of you entered the building. The rookies leading the way meanwhile the three of you stayed a bit behind.

You let your thoughts wander, thinking about what sex would feel like with Sukuna.

Next time I won’t be so good.

That’s what he said last. You have no idea what he meant by that, or what to expect next, but something made you think you were gonna find it out soon enough.

A couple minutes later chaos seemed to have taken over, power killed a ugly fucking devil, then you all got stuck in the 8th floor, Kobeni was crying and trying to drink toilet water, Denji was sleeping like a baby. After looking around you gave up trying to find a way out and simply layed on a bed in an empty room.

“Could have been worse” you murmured to yourself. You seem to have all this time and nothing to do.

The bed was pretty comfortable… your core still burned, would it be too bad if…?

You slowly brought your hand down your uniform till your finger found your clit over the material of your trousers.

You sighed, felt good, you needed some release. You closed your eyes, circling that spot and thinking of that night when Sukuna had control, but instead you imagined Aki to be one touching you and—

“AARGH” you screamed louder than you should’ve, a sudden sharp pain in your lower lips had taken you off guard. When you looked down you found Sukuna’s mouth in your palm “Did you fucking bite me?!” you accused. He clearly bit you through the pants.

“When I told you I was gonna be the only one touching I meant it, not even you can touch yourself got it?”

“That’s ridiculous I—“ your left hand seemed to have transformed into his again, bigger with sharp black nails, he went straight for your neck, choking you.

Down the hall you heard Aki calling your name, he probably heard your scream and was now opening every room to find you.

You panicked, not wanting him to find Sukunas hand around your neck.

“Sukuna” you begged.

“That’s not my name.”

“M-master please…”

“Say you won’t do it again” his grip tightened, cutting your breath, Aki’s voice was closer.

“I— won’t— I p-promise” you chocked out.

Right when he let go of you and you gained the control of your hand back again Aki barged in.

“What’s wrong?” he rushed to your side on the bed, putting his hands on your shoulders to take a look at your face while you coughed.

You managed to come out with a lie about having a nap then waking up from a nightmare and choking with nothing. He didn’t seem to believe it but didn’t ask anymore questions either.

“I need smoke” he got up from the bed, “Come on” and took your hand making you go with him.

You hated to lie to Aki, it was necessary, but whenever you felt his skin touch yours like that you almost felt like giving up on everything, on Sukuna, on being a hunter…

“Himeno-senpai, do you have any cigarettes left?”

“I want one too” you added

“Sorry, that’s the last one,” she replied.

Both you and Aki asked for it, Himeno gave him first then he gave you. You realized how close you were to each other’s faces when Denji screamed “indirect triple kiss!”You giggled while Aki told him to shut it.

More time had passed, you have no idea what time it is but you really wished you had taken a nap. Now, Himeno, Aki and you were lying on the hall facing the huge disgusting blob the devil had become.

Himeno asked Aki if he had a plan, he always had a plan, but this time the only thing you were certain of was not killing Denji since that’s what the devil wanted.

“I’ll use the sword” your heart skipped a beat, you quickly protested it as well as Himeno.

“I’ll use Sukuna first” you argued.

“Who? What’s that?” Denji asked.

“That’s one of the devils I have a contract with—“ you started to explain but Aki cut you off.

“He’s not gonna be useful here. If that thing doesn’t have any weakness there’s nothing Sukuna can do.”

“Oh and what can your sword do?” his words made your blood boil, was he trying to underestimate your contract with Sukuna?

“Oi, no fighting” Himeno interrupted, but before you could continue Aki got up, taking you with him by your arm before the devil moved in your direction, then you were running.

Fuck, you needed to do something.

The whole floor starts to bend in the devils direction, you found a stable place in a room, Kobeni was screaming about throwing Denji to the devil.

“I’ll use the sword” Aki said and you got the cursed word to summon Sukuna on the tip of your tongue.

“I’m not gonna do it” he said from inside your head.

Fucker.

“Himeno” you warned her, Denji was not about to become devil food, but you also didn’t want Aki to lose years of his life if he used the sword.

“Die!” Kobeni screamed and ran towards Denji with a knife.

“Enchain” you called.

You lost consciousness for no more than 5 seconds, but when you came back Kobeni was on the floor, a bloodied knife beside her and—

“Aki” you whispered nothing but the pool of blood coming out of him “Sukuna… what the fuck”.

“You called too late little hunter, that was not our deal, you’re gonna pay for it” he replied in that voice only you could hear.

You kneeled beside Aki while he defended Denji and Power tried to manipulate his blood, when she touched him he flinched and reached for the closest thing that happened to be your hand.

Himeno was freaking out, the Kobeni again, until Denji got up.

“If I manage to kill this fucking devil, I still expect to get that kiss” he screamed at Himeno but looked at you too before explaining his plan. That boy was deranged, but you liked him.

So long have passed, Denji was still slicing the eternity devil, Power really seemed to have stopped Aki’s bleeding, you managed to not fall sleep for too long while laying beside him, you wanted to make sure he was still alive, so you keep waking yourself up.

“Hey” he murmured, “you have awful eye bags.”

“I would punch you if you weren’t stabbed” you murmured back. He adjusted himself getting closer to you, he was pale but not as much as when he got hit by the knife, “I’m glad you’re okay” you placed your head on his shoulder.

“Can he hear us talking?” he whispered.

“Who?”

“Sukuna” you looked up.

“I don’t think so” you replied, Sukuna only seemed to be around when you were by yourself or in a stressful situation.

“I saw him” Aki moved some hairs away from your face, “When you said the word, I saw your features change, your eyes got darker, he didn’t do anything, but he smiled when I got stabbed, you smiled…” your eyes widened.

“I’m sorry, I should’ve done something myself” your heart broke, Aki sounded so fragile.

“It’s okay, I’m fine” he placed his arm on your shoulder, resting his cheek on your forehead, “Can you promise me something?”

“Maybe, what?”

“If you don’t feel safe with Sukuna, terminate the contract”.

Safe…

“I’ll think about it.”

Thankfully Denji was right, he managed to defeat the devil by himself, freeing everyone else from the 8th floor. While Power was holding Aki on her back, you approached Denji.

“You must be exhausted,” you murmured.

“It’s not so ba—“ you gave his cheek a peck when he wasn’t looking at you directly.

“Well, you deserved it so…” before you finished he fell backwards, but Himeno got him when he was about to hit the floor.

“Let’s get them to the hospital” Himeno said and you agreed.

With Aki and Denji spending the night in the hospital for observation, you decided to go back home and check on them the next day.

Home seemed to embrace you when you arrived, finally having your own food and a decent shower.

After a long time washing your body and hair you stepped out of the shower with a towel wrapped around you, but the second your toe touched the ground you heard a voice

“Enchain”.

And everything around you changed like you were transported somewhere else.

“What the…” it seemed like a dark cave, looking down you seemed to be standing on a wet floor, was that blood? It didn’t smell like blood, although the place looked like it was rotting it didn’t smell like anything weird. There were bones around, piles of them, and a huge spine above you.

“Don’t look around without permission” you heard him again, behind you.

“You—“ when you turned around you met his naked chest.

Only then you realized you haven’t seen Sukuna in a human form since your contract, you forgot how tall he was. He was wearing a white robe, tied around his waist, from that point up his torso was exposed, black lines adorning it.

You took a step back, raising your head to look at his face, he had an obnoxious smile and a look of superiority.

“Where the fuck am I?”

“In my domain, basically in my mind” he turned around and sat down on a throne made of bones.

“That explains why this place is so creepy... How do I get out?”

“You can’t until I say so.”

“Suk—“ you rolled your eyes and was about to say his name in a very disrespectful tone until you met his serious face, “What do you want?”

“Do I have to remind you of our deal? You said Enchain, now you gotta pay.”

“You did nothing” you crossed your arms, “I may have said it but you failed to keep your word.”

“Watch your mouth, hunter. Contracts have power, if I hadn’t held my end of the deal I would’ve suffered the consequences, but here we are. If that dumb head of yours wasn’t so busy thinking about getting fucked you would’ve realized that was nothing for me to do in that situation”

You opened your mouth to argue back, but quickly realized you were in no position to do so.

“Whatever, let’s get this over with” with that he pulled the only thing that was covering your body, the white towel, and threw it away.

You attempted to cover yourself, but he pushed your shoulders down until you fell on your knees in front of his throne.

“Sukuna, not here” whatever was under the wet ground was rough on your knees, and the whole setting made you uneasy. All the skulls laying around seemed to be watching you.

“I said I wasn’t going to be good, especially after you misbehaved so badly earlier. Tell me, little hunter, have you used that mouth of yours to something other than pointless arguments?” Sukuna leaned back on the throne, spreading his thick legs and undoing the knot on his robe. The angle you were in gave you a pretty good look on what you were going to be working with.

If there was a source of light behind Sukuna you would have his dick casting a shadow on your entire face.

“Sukuna…” you called his name in scared tone, all your confidence fading out as you noticed from up close the thick veins.

“Do I really have to teach you everything?” he pulled away from the throne backrest getting closer to you, roughly taking your wrist and turning your palm up.

When you met his eyes he had a mischievous look, he snorted leaving you wondering what about your expression he found funny.

Then he spited in your palm and made you wrap it around his length.

You couldn’t help but gasp, such a dirty act and still your thighs were pressed together as hard as you could to get some friction on your core.

You had no idea what the average size was, but Sukuna was definitely above that. Your fingers weren’t even close to touch, how were you supposed to…?

“Come closer” he spread his legs, Sukuna was back to his original position, back against the rest, looking down at you like you were a bug. You noticed the frown was gone, like he was more relaxed.

You obeyed, moving more into the middle of his legs your face now just inches from his dick.

His hand guided yours up, stopping before the head and going back down encouraging you to squeeze his base, his chest was rising faster as you learned the way he liked it. You approached the dark red tip, giving it a kitten lick to test waters, a satisfied groan from the devil made your face heat up.

“Don’t be shy” he placed his hand on the back of your head, pushing you down his hard cock as you put your hands on his thighs for support.

Sukuna pulled you back before he hit the back of your throat, when your lips reached his tip you sucked it and felt his hand closing and pulling your hair.

“Liked the taste?” he teased. You would never admit it out loud… but you did. The bitterness of it and his scent made you high.

Being a virgin you didn’t expect a cock to be so hot. Literally. You felt your cheeks burn just being this close to his hot skin.

Your tongue traced the underside of his length, the warmest point of him. Out of curiosity you reached for his balls too, they ehere even hotter and so heavy.

Sukuna adjusted his hips, tilting it a little but enough to make you gag on it.

“Open wider” his rough hand held your face, index and tumb forcing the sides of your jaw to stretch more. It hurt, you wined, sinking your nails on his thigh, “Relax…”

You’ve read porn before, you know what you’re supposed to do, in theory.

“I need to buy cigarettes, you can wait here” Aki told you when you reached a convenience store.

“I’ll go in with you” you replied, while Aki went to the counter you walked to where the maganize were. You picked the newest edition of a popular one, flipping through it you found an interesting article. It was a reader question for the recurring sexologist. My husband never comes when I suck him off, what should I do to improve my head game?

You brought the magazine closer, not fully reading the answer but just scanning your eyes over the words that stood out the most.

Create a vacuum by pursing your lips… focus on the frenulum… suck the balls… swallow when it reaches the back of your—

“You buying this?” Aki was suddenly beside you, your head was basically inside the magazine, thankfully shielding the content.

“No, there’s nothing good” you closed it quickly and put it back.

You should’ve come back for that.

Taking a deep breath you tried to relax your throat as Sukuna applied pressure to the back of your head, as soon as his thickness reaches the very back of your throat your eyes fill with water.

“That’s it, choke around my cock, little hunter. Allow me to bruise that throat of yours” he bucks his hips and you realize you have almost no control over it anymore, just surrender to the situation. A mixture of liquids accumulated on your chin, almost dripping.

Sukuna love this more than he should, you looked so helpless. But those eyes didn’t deceive him, he could see the lust, the hazy look and your delicate hand under his balls told him the secrets you didn’t.

“You’re such a whore, you know that?” you swallowed, “You know why?” he bent, one hand still on the back of your head and the other around your neck, he pushed you until your lips were amost at his base. All the heavy meat of his cock down your throat.

Your teary eyes looked up at him, the hand on your neck closed around it, Sukuna could feel his own shape through your skin. You eyes widened realizing you could barely breath.

“Because good girls don’t take dick like this” he trusted a few more times until you felt it twitch, your hair was aggressively being pulled but the hand around your neck kept you in place while he shot hot loads down your esophagus.

“Eat it” he commanded and you obeyed, shutting your eyes and swelling it, although it was a lot.

Sukuna pulled you away, mesmerized by the string of cum and saliva connecting your mouth to his cock.

You inhaled for the first time since this started but soon began to cough, your jaw ached and your legs were numb beneath you.

“Monster” you managed to murmur in a extremely husky voice.

“Please” he was catching up his own breath, through blurry eyes you could see his abdomen was sweaty, his thigh was slightly shaking. Sukuna bent, supporting his elbows on his knees to get really close to your messed face, his huge hand approached your face and out of reflex you fliched, but with a delicacy you would never expect he removed the strands of your hair that got caugh in your wet face. The sudden act made your face soften, he ran a thumb over your swallowed lips, rubbing the saliva off, he looked at you with a proud smirk. You felt vulnerable at that moment, his eyes didn't seem dangerous, and he was so close you couldn’t help but close your eyes and reach for a kiss.

You found nothing.

Opening your eyes again you saw the tiles of your bathroom, finding yourself naked on the floor. Droplets of your wet hair ran down your back, you took your towel off the floor and wrap it around your shoulders and attempted to get up, groaning from the pain on your knees. The groan scratched your sore throat and you started to cough again, moving to the sink you lowered your head trying to get some water but the image in the mirror scared you. There was a clear imprint of a hand around your neck, you traced it in shock. You thought about what to say tomorrow at work, should you wear a scarf?

But the most important question was: how deeply involved were you with Sukuna now that he had literally marked you?

[kerubimcrepin]

Liveblog: Wakfu Season 1 (episode 19, The Sadida Kingdom)

NOTE: This is the thing I've been looking forward to the entire rewatch. I'm not sorry for my insanity. This entire blog has been built on my insanity.

This translation error in the fansub is the source of the mistaken belief that Amalia's father's name is Oakheart btw. Though it is a nice name.

Two days prior is when The Horror started...

Sadida also have their own Boufbowl tournaments... Big day for Joris hobby lore.

I'M INSANE. I have waited for ages to get here, and I will not be leaving until I have multiple paragraphs of insane things to say:

They have been arguing for a bit of time at this point. Joris does not sound happy about this conversation. Armand also doesn't sound happy about this conversation.

Armand is probably high on his "I am acting in the stead of my father, so you will tell me everything that you need to tell him" supply. Joris is so fucking desperate for Armand to act normal. He doesn't want to be here either. He doesn't need to be arguing with a 17ish year old prince with daddy issues on a weekday.

All of this to say: This level of politeness from Joris always screams to me "I'm so fucking mad right now."

The way he uses the same words, "allow me", almost reads a bit ironic, or like a thinly veiled show of disregard.

Him repeating the information that we as the audience already knew to Joris — which Joris probably also knows, judging from the fact that they have been talking for at least a little bit, — seems less like exposition, and more like Armand treating Joris like an idiot who just won't get it. A power struggle is happening here.

And while it isn't a part of the subs, I can hear him say "my father, the king" which is, in my opinion, yet another little element of psychological warfare going on here.

Basically, he uses a lot of thinly veiled little jabs to establish himself as The Leader.

...He really is high on his own supply.

The mention of the Master of Bonta is interesting. Joris is not just under the King's direct command, — he is also a messenger for other people in the Bontarian government. Perhaps the master in question is connected to the Huppermages?

His exasperated tone here is so customer service-core. Which wouldn't be that funny if we didn't know he also works customer service.

Also, the dramatic "Alas!"... That he definitely added just to seem less rude. While cutting off Armand's last word, as if he was waiting for him to shut the fuck up. Before looking up at him at the end.

The way he's so fucking rude is just so jaw dropping.

"I have an important secret message", "come back later. FUCKASS."

Joris's first instinct whenever things go bad is to go political incident mode and political incident all over the place.

But to be more serious: I think after 600 years of witnessing wars and murder, Joris's mind would go in that direction after seeing Armand's behaviour.

Joris just doesn't know Armand well enough to know that he would not do that, and that he loves his father. It's quite prudent of Joris to get sneaky.

And even if he didn't think of this — you have seen my headcanon for what I think Joris wanted to tell the king (soft oak and that weird xelor that keeps ravaging places). It concerns the safety of the country. And just like Amalia and Eva, I doubt Joris would want Armand to be the one taking care of this.

[guy who made an entire blog thats 33% literally just talking about doomed siblings] I don't know why I like Armand and Amalia's relationship so much. I think I hauve covid. It's just that imagine you were a kid, and your father — who is so, so very powerful, who is the leader of your people, liked your sibling more. And your sibling had this fortunate life, and you were always in the shadow, and people thought you're mean and furless and bal— [I am electrecuted]

Joris behind the columns, trying to stop himself from screaming or trying to actually kill Armand:

I hope he dies. <- I said, before remembering.

If I was forced to work in Joris's sphere, I would literally just end my life instead. The things he subjects himself to...

On the topic of subjecting himself to things, I really think that Joris came so late because:

He was sneaking around like a silly little gumshoe (he was spying on a foreign government),

He needed a break after talking to Armand. <3 Who doesn't

He hoped that this situation wouldn't end so disastrously. Like maybe Armand would get hit a little bit... Just a tinyyy bit. But no. It's worse. Multiple people are down.

He looks so fucking unimpressed with Armand's words here. I can't do this anymore. He hates this shitty teenager.

Magical powers activate! [hits you with a tree stump 16 times until you lose consciousness]

I don't even know what to say besides the fact that the things he subjects himself to (having to defend and talk to royalty who don't even take him seriously and insult him the whole time) are literally unspeakably insane. Could never be me.

He has a lot of anger within him, and for legal reasons, it cannot be expressed.