#Secure messaging flaw

[tinytarotandtea]

「 ✦ PICK A CARD✦ 」

A Soft Message From Your Inner Child

Masterlist GET YOUR PERSONAL PAID READING HERE <33

Credits: divider by @/strangergraphics Directions: Take a moment to breathe, calm down and focus as you choose a picture from above. From left to right is pile 1, 2 and 3. Then Scroll down to your pile! Please remember to only take what resonates with you and leave the rest 🫶

Pile One -

Cards Pulled - The High Priestess • Page of Swords reversed • King of cups.

Hello my sweet Pile one! Today, your inner child wants you to know that you're wiser and more emotionally aware than you realise, and they're so proud of how far you've come! As am I!

The Hight Priestess is reflecting your inner knowing. Your inner child is gently reminding you that you've always been intuitive, even back then. You felt things others missed, and that sensitivity is a gift, not a flaw.

The Page of Swords Reversed shows that part of you is still curious and eager to learn. Though, you might be overwhelmed by doubts or mental clutter. Your inner child encourages you to let go of the need to always have the right answer, and to instead turn to wonder. You don't have to be perfect. It's okay to ask questions. It's okay to not know everything yet.

The King of Cups comes in as your emotional anchor. Your inner child sees the emotional maturity you've cultivated. They want you to give that same compassion and steadiness to yourself. You know how to hold space for others, now it's time to hold space for the younger parts of you too.

So, Pile One, my dears — the message from your inner child is to trust what you feel. You've always known more than they gave you credit for. Keep asking questions, stay curious, and hold yourself gently. They see you trying, and they love you for it.

Pile Two -

Cards Pulled - Ten of Cups reversed • Ten of Swords • Two of Cups reversed.

Pile Two, my dears. This one is deep. Your inner child is reaching out with a message that acknowledges pain, disappointment and the longing to truly feel connected and safe. This isn't an easy pile, but it's very meaningful.

The Ten of Cups shows a yearning for emotional security and belonging that might not have been fully met. Especially in the early stages of a relationship or family dynamics. Your inner child might be saying, "I didn't always feel safe or like I belonged." The comfort here is in recognising that those feelings were real, and that you are allowed to grieve what you didn't receive.

The Ten of Swords speaks to deep emotional exhaustion and perhaps betrayal and burnout. Your inner child is gently requesting you to acknowledge the hurt without brushing past it. But they're also reminding you that this is the end of the cycle. The worst is behind you now. There's nowhere to go but upwards. Healing from what you've been through is not only possible, but it's already beginning.

The Two of Cups here points to misalignment in relationships, especially with your self. Your inner child wants you to repair your bond with them. They want you to reconnect with your younger self in a way that is gentle, kind and affirming. You're perhaps pouring love into others, but forgetting to offer it inward. The comfort needed is reunion with your own heart.

Your inner child wants you to know that they know things didn't always feel safe or fair, but they're still here. They're still here waiting to be held by you. You don't need to be perfect. Just be with them. That's all they've ever wanted.

Pile Three

Cards Pulled - Four of Pentacles • Four of Wands • The Star Reversed

Hello Pile Three, my darlings! Today, your inner child asks for safety, celebration, and permission to hope again. Even if all such feels a little far away right now.

The Four of Pentacles here shows that your inner child has learned to protect themselves. Perhaps a bit too tightly. They've held onto what feels safe, even when it meant closing off parts of their heart. Their message to you is that you are safe now. You don't need to hold everything in so tightly. They want you to know that it is okay to soften. And it's okay to let go of some of that guardedness once you're ready.

The Four of Wands speaks of a longing you may have got joy, connection and a sense of 'home'. Not just physically, but emotionally and spiritually. Your inner child wants to remind you that it's okay to celebrate yourself, even for the little things. They want you to create moments of joy and comfort. Build spaces that feel like home.

The Star Reversed suggests that your hope might feel dimmed. Perhaps you've been through disappointment, or your dreams have felt too distant. But your inner child is still holding a flicker of belief for you. Their message is, "Please don't stop wishing." Even when things begin to feel uncertain, even when you're tired — they want you to know that the healing is still ongoing, even in the background.

Pile Three, the message here from your inner child is that you don't have to do it all alone. You're allowed to soften, to celebrate, and to believe in magic again. Even if it's just a little bit at a time.

[backstageinfatuationvn]

OOH, I FREAKING LOVE IDOL CONCEPTS! I have some questions btw

1. Talking about headcanon, which real kpop song would belong to LUXE?

2. What would the boys' reaction be if the MC said, they prefer more female groups than male ones? (especially curious 'bout Kier)

3. I'm a kpop dance teacher, so I'm curious, what would be the reaction of the members if MC said they would do a dance cover of one of their dances?

OOUUGHHHH!!! There's this one song I would listen HEAVILY when I was first making LUXE's concept.

"Butterfly" by LOONA!

Prepare for a lengthy discussion JWJSJW

From what I have written, this is LUXE's group concept:

🕊️ "Three angels with an intriguing and captivating sound that combines the best of angelic and heavenly concepts with the elegance and darkness of luxury. They were born and raised in the heavenly realms, where they honed their unique talents and skills in music and performance. As they descended to the mortal world, they discovered the joys and challenges of human interaction and the responsibilities of fame and success, blending angelic and heavenly beauty with a darker, more mysterious aura."

🦋 “Butterfly” – LOONA

⤷ Why it fits LUXE's celestial, elegant, and mysterious concept

---

🌌 1. Ethereal Soundscape = Angelic Origin

The instrumental and vocal layering in Butterfly is dreamlike and airy—filled with atmospheric synths, echo effects, and featherlight harmonies. It feels like you’re listening to something descending from the heavens or unfolding in slow motion, much like the presence of angels arriving in the mortal realm.

> Fit for LUXE: The song’s weightlessness captures that surreal, celestial presence LUXE would radiate on stage—like they're floating instead of dancing.

---

🕊️ 3. Themes of Freedom & Transformation = Their Descent and Growth

“Fly like a butterfly” isn’t just a poetic line—it symbolizes:

Transformation (from divine being to idol),

Freedom (breaking from heavenly constraints),

Delicate strength (beauty that hides power).

> LUXE’s Lore Fit: Angels who descend to explore human life, learn emotions, and confront fame—this is their transformation, just like a butterfly emerging from a cocoon of divinity into the flawed, dazzling human world.

---

💫 4. Global Inclusivity and Empowerment = Universality of Their Message

The original Butterfly MV showcases women of various races, ages, and cultures—highlighting unity, potential, and grace in everyone. This subtle theme of empowerment and universal beauty fits well with the idea of angels coming to inspire, guide, or observe humanity.

> LUXE’s Message: Even from above, they see potential in humans, in emotions, in imperfection—and they express it through music.

---

🎨 5. Aesthetic & Styling = Light Luxury + Mystery

In the MV, LOONA wears whites, silvers, deep navy, and flowing fabrics. The lighting is soft but cinematic—giving them a celestial glow. There’s a refined mystery to it all.

> I wanted to try replicate that in their idol outfits shown here!

This song gives me CHILLSSSSS every time! I'd say this song fits them very well.

2. Ooooo, this is such an interesting one.

Oriel: “Ah, I see. Well, can’t blame you—girl groups have killer choreography these days.” smirks knowingly

Oriel: “But I’d like to think we’ve at least piqued your interest a little?”

Why: Oriel is secure in his presence and charisma. He doesn’t see it as a competition.

---

He tilts his head, expression unreadable.

Min: “…Mm. That so?”

A small shrug follows. He doesn’t say more at first.

But if you’re someone he’s starting to trust or get close to, he’ll quietly follow up later:

Min: “Out of curiosity… which girl group’s your favorite?”

Then a rare flicker of a smirk.

Min: “Not that I’m comparing.”

Why: Min doesn’t react strongly outwardly. He processes things internally, and your preferences won’t hurt his pride—but he will remember it. He might even study the groups you like, trying to understand your tastes in his own quiet way.

---

He pauses, eyes lingering on you a beat too long.

Kier: “...I see. You must find them more… relatable.”

Then, with a practiced smile:

Kier: “That’s alright. We all have our preferences.”

Why: Kier wouldn’t lash out or argue—but it stings. As someone who has likely worked endlessly to present a flawless image, he might internalize your words as rejection. He'd cover it up with a gentle smile but could spiral a little later, questioning what female idols have that he doesn’t—elegance? Softness? Accessibility?

> He may even start studying their charm and comparing it to his own.

3. Omg! That's so cool! I think I wrote a small scenario about this?? Like a long time ago??? Never posted it but here it is!

👑 Oriel

Reaction: Genuinely impressed

Oriel: “You wanna cover? That’s amazing!”

leans in slightly

Oriel: “Which part are you planning to cover?”

Oriel: “I’d love to see your interpretation!!”

Why: Oriel respects professionals and loves seeing artistic passion. He might even give you tips or comment on your technique after seeing your performance.

🌘 Min

Reaction: Calm but curious

Raises an eyebrow, mildly impressed.

Min:.“You dance?”

He crosses his arms and nods slightly, a thoughtful pause.

Min:.“Our choreo’s not easy. Which part?”

If he respects your skill, you might get a lowkey compliment like:

Min: “You’ll do it justice.”

Why: He doesn’t gush or act excited, but deep down he’s proud. If he’s warmed up to you, you might catch him watching your cover in silence—analyzing, admiring, and secretly feeling flattered.

🌹 Kier

Reaction: Silent at first, then unexpectedly intense

He blinks, taken aback. Something unreadable flickers behind his gaze.

Kier: “You want to dance… our choreography?”

Then, softer, eyes focused on you like you're the only person in the world:

Kier: “That’s… flattering. I’ll be watching.”

Why: Kier sees this as deeply intimate. For someone to learn and embody something he performed—it makes him feel seen. But there’s also possessiveness: he wants you to perform it perfectly, almost as if it’s a form of devotion.

If you're covering his part, especially?

> Expect him to study every movement with unnerving focus—he’ll say he’s helping correct your form, but he’s watching something far more personal.

[yan-lorkai]

.⁠｡⁠*⁠♡ A/N: I'm very normal about Idia, guys. Being his friend would be great, I just know. Yet he is an interesting character to me so at the same time he'd want you to spend all the time by his side, he also idolizes a version of you, smth smth I love him, enjoy this <3

.⁠｡⁠*⁠♡ Warning: Yandere content, control and manipulation tendencies, guilt tripping, gn!reader

.⁠｡⁠*⁠♡ Idia becomes intensely possessive when he first make friends with you, something he’s not used to. His loyalty runs deep and he expects the same in return, often feeling jealous and anxious if you spends time with "the normies", as he likes to call them. He tries to monopolize your attention by filling your days with online games, late-night chats and gossip sessions and anime marathons, making it difficult for you to spend time with anyone else. He even try your blogs if it is something he can do inside his or your room.

.⁠｡⁠*⁠♡ Sometimes he beg you to spend the day in his room, studying online as he does, when he is dealing with a particularly bad day - which are slowly turning into a daily thing.

.⁠｡⁠*⁠♡ While Idia doesn’t confront people directly, he’s skilled at subtly manipulating you. If you mention hanging out with someone else, he’ll sulk or act overly dramatic, making you feel guilty for not spending time with him. He wants youto believe you’re the only one, besides Ortho and his family, who truly understands him, ensuring that you stay close. His tech expertise also gives him an advantage over you as he keeps tabs on your online activity, always aware of who you’re talking to or what you’re doing when you are away from him. And if you tell about how suffocating is to be with someone like him or something like that, Idia will make little changes in himself so you won't be bothered by how he acts.

.⁠｡⁠*⁠♡ To further isolate you, Idia draws you deeper into his world, introducing rare games and niche interests that only he can share with you. If you try to make plans outside your usual routine, he’ll always have something special, a one time offer that you simply can't resist. Deep down, his tendencies come from a deep fear of rejection. He’s terrified of being abandoned and he believes the only way to secure your friendship is to make you depend on him as much as he depends on you. He wants to be your hero, strong, fierce, yet he turns into your villain, your tormentor.

.⁠｡⁠*⁠♡ As the friendship deepens, Idia’s clinginess becomes more apparent, though he tries to hide it behind his usual awkwardness. He starts to get anxious whenever you doesn’t respond immediately to messages, bombarding you with worried texts or even calling, something he normally hates doing. When you finally reply, he plays it off but the relief he feels is palpable. He needs that constant reassurance that you’re still there, still close to him, that you still like him.

.⁠｡⁠*⁠♡ Idia’s jealousy, though subtle, can become intense. If he notices you are growing closer to someone else, he starts planting doubts in your mind, making snide comments or pointing out flaws in the new person’s behavior. His aim is always to make sure you realizes that no one will ever be as loyal or understanding as he is. He never wants to be obvious about it but his bitterness leaks out in small doses, enough to make his friend second-guess their other relationships.

.⁠｡⁠*⁠♡ When things don’t go as planned, Idia retreats into self-pity, making you feel responsible for his mood. He might withdraw entirely, going quiet for days at a time, only to return with cryptic messages about feeling “left behind” or how much he hates being alone. This emotional tug-of-war keeps you constantly on edge, never wanting to hurt him or push him away, which only feeds into Idia’s control over you. Wether you realize what he does or not, Idia will always find a way to have control over you, no matter what.

.⁠｡⁠*⁠♡ Despite his fear of being too obvious, there are times when Idia’s obsession shows more openly. He might create custom in-game avatars of you, carefully crafting you to reflect his idealized version of a romantic relationship. He’ll obsessively collect items or trinkets that remind him of you, even going so far as to create private spaces in games or online where it’s just the two of them, away from anyone else or have an AI of your voice saying sweet little nothings to him, or singing. This, though, he'll never let you know. He doesn't want for you to think he is a weirdo, he just really love you, his bestie.

[cyjammy]

Vox and Alastor’s Dynamic is so FUN

Hazbin Hotel Season 1 Episode 2 Spoilers ahead!

I have to talk about Vox and Alastor’s “rivalry”. I love how Alastor just couldn’t care less, he’s witty, he’s emotionless and that makes him all the more powerful.

Well, not emotionless since he does express outward disgust towards anything digital, but the fact he can keep himself composed because he knows he is the shit and that’s what makes him my absolute favorite.

That showed through in the pilot and the show didn’t fail to deliver. I love how he’s handled. Viv’s characterization is wonderful.

Most fics I have read with Alastor have shown him as vunerable despite the story never alluding to that and it’s such a breath of fresh air to have canon content of Alastor being his authentic self.

My god do I love a character that’s strong and not swayed by emotion, but they can be handled well too. I.E. VOX oh my god. Every fanon had him pegged down as the victim to Val’s wrath, but he’s the mastermind behind the scenes. A complete subversion of everyone’s expectations. And that’s for another post I’m about to go crazy on, but I digress.

Vox is a man up in his ivory electronic tower with villainous intentions, but he falls short because of emotion!

Handling Velvet’s demands to get Val together? A quick pep talk with himself and he’s got it.

Addressing unforeseen circumstances with concerned sinners? Easy.

But Alastor?

He sees RED. He let Valentino have it when he even thought about going on a rampage over a sinner under his thumb.

When it comes to Alastor, Vox goes on a hate campaign and makes a fool of himself.

Meanwhile, Alastor was minding his business, and Vox couldn’t deal with that.

So much so he causes a blackout in the Wrath ring!

Why? Because of his rejection sensitivity.

He is this all powerful overlord with companions in his rule and when he asks someone of similar station to become his equal he gets rejected.

It’s unheard of for him. He cannot fathom it.

Because that makes Alastor a factor he cannot control.

Val says that Alastor “almost beat him”. Val may not have witnessed that fight and Vox spun it around to claim he came out on top.

But if he did, he definitely wouldn’t let Alastor get away.

Valentino and Vox have known each other for a long time, as shown in a photo in the background in the episode.

So either this spat began before they had met and Vox lied or Valentino witnessed it. I'm excited to see which way that goes.

In terms of influence, Alastor seems to win that battle. Vox is in charge of electrical currents and anything in the digital space.

Alastor is so far removed from that Vox has no influence over him. He refuses to be involved with new technology.

But with Vox having an army of sinners under his wing through subliminal messaging, he had security and power.

With Alastor’s return he brings CHARISMA and he’s doing it SO FUCKING WELL.

This is not a battle, it’s a slaughter, and Alastor is WINNING. With television there are so many ways to captivate a viewer but with radio all the host has is their voice and personality. It all has to be shown in a medium that doesn’t have many options for uniqueness.

Alastor defends himself with grace. He throws out compliments to his fellow overlords while still having it be a slight to the man who began the fight.

THE Vs ARE PREENING AT HIS PRAISE. THIS MAN IS GOATED.

It's night and day, but that's probably because Valentino and Velvet are tired of Vox's shit. I love this parallel so much!

Vox needed to be the person he was with Valentino at all times if this is a battle he wants to win, but he’s so bitter he will never see that.

He’s stubborn and that’s his main flaw.

And I fucking love it.

Alastor knows what he’s thinking and how to avoid it.

Always a step ahead. And their duet showcases that perfectly.

Alastor uses his opponent’s power against them, seeing the slanderous TV campaign and immediately going on air.

He does that in the pilot as well and seeing that this has become a habit for him is so fun to see.

Alastor is not to be messed with and I feel like people decided to gloss over that. But it’s so in your face you cannot deny it.

Alastor is TERRIFYING with a chilling deposition that will give you nightmares if you dare cross him.

Give him the respect he fucking deserves.

And the music and the visuals of the song — A whole fucking masterpiece.

I’m in love with their dynamic so far and I can’t wait to see where it goes.

So far Vox is the obsessed fanatic that couldn’t handle rejection.

There has to be more than that.

[lvlyghost]

The Things I Never Said: Part 3

Pairings: Simon 'Ghost' Riley

Summary: You're required for one last mission.

Word Count: 2.5k

Tw: aaaaaangst, hurt with a lot of comfort. injuries, mentions of blood, kissing and slightly suggestive but nothing too explicit. price has to make a hard choice:(poor grammar, bad english ofc💅🏻 foreshadowing to my price fic 'salvation' if you squint.

A/N: i'm not gonna lie, when i wrote the first part of this fic i was bored and never in a million years did it cross my mind y'all would like it this much. sorry if this isn't as good, this is the final part of it, although i plan to write little drabbles every now and then. this was such a nice ride 🩷✨ thx for the support; remember english isn't my first language, corrections are welcome 🤍🐸

Masterlist✨ Part 2

Desk rotation wasn't fun, but it seemed to be the only suitable work for you considering your pregnancy, besides, it would allow Simon to keep an eye on you. At least he's sure you'd be safer in the military base than alone in your home.

Your only companion as you sit in the tech room is nothing more than a computer with two screens and Jimmy, the other tech guy who sits in the far corner across from you.

True to his word, Price had saved you and Simon a horrible martial court plus being discharged. Technically you're no longer a part of the 141 task force which is already upsetting to all of your team; instead working strictly under Price's command and assisting the different branches of the military. Meaning you're no longer subdued to Lieutenant Riley, therefore you're not his subordinate, at least not directly.

You respond to Price and only Price.

Nearing the end of your first trimester your swollen belly has started to show, the same you try to dissimulate by wearing bigger shirts than you would usually wear, but enough for Simon to notice when he'd place a big calloused hand on your stomach.

'It's... tiny.' He had stated, to which you laughed softly.

'Of course it is, your hand is massive!'

You shake your head, with a small smile on your lips as you remember that scene.

"Everything good?" You ask your companion.

"Mhm. You know you're the best for creating the security system right? Not a single breach or flaw. Couldn't ask for a better partner."

"Is that a chai?" Completely ignoring what he just said you point the white disposable cup next to him. He looks between you and his drink.

"Yeah? Didn't know you liked it, here... have it. I can get another." He assures you when you hesitate.

You thank him with glowing eyes and excitement. Cravings... you're embarrassed of the amount of food you've asked from Simon in the middle of the night. Sushi, pizza and even peaches just for the sake of the baby.

He's being the gentlest man on earth. Caring and supportive. Your phone buzzes as you're about to start to work. The screen lights up with a message from your Captain. Huffing you stand up, letting Jimmy know you'll be back in a few minutes, or so you thought.

You're not prepared for the hell unfolding inside John's office.

You're able to hear male voices from the other side of the hallway. You don't know why but your heart begins to race, knocking twice once you've reached the brown wooden door.

"Come in!" Price shouts from inside.

You open the door, greeted by John's hardened eyes and Simon's back as he hunches over the Captain's desk. Confused and much to your dismay there's a gigantic folder between the two men, your eyes fall on Ghost's trembling frame.

He is enraged.

Body buzzing in anger as the soft click of the door interrupts the silence that's fallen suddenly inside.

"You wanted to see me Sir?"

Price slowly stands, Simon doing the same, turning his head ever so slightly to watch you from over his shoulder.

"I need to talk to you, sweetheart." Price begins.

A deep breath exits Simon's chest.

"What is it?" You take a step closer to them, until you're standing next to him, crossing his arms over his chest he remains silent.

"We need you. For a mission." He states. "It's important, sergeant. I don't think anyone else would be able to pull this off." Your eyes dart back to your boyfriend. Staring daggers at his superior. "I'd never ask for this if I had to."

"Bloody hell Price, she's not fucking going!" He is seething.

The gut-wrenching feeling sets in your belly, tossing and turning with anxiety. Simon isn't taking this well and you don't want to see him like this, it breaks your heart.

"How important, Sir?" You ask.

Ghost snaps his head towards you. Jaw tightening, and calls your name ever so softly.

"Don't." He barks. "Don't fucking play the hero, kid." He warns you.

"I'm not trying to play the hero, Simon." You talk back. "I'm trying to figure out how to get this done. I might have someone else that could go in my place." Price sighs. "Can I do it from the base? Maybe I don't have to leave the compound."

"Reports say the files are heavily encrypted. It's the Russians, sergeant. We're not dealing with amateurs." He turns to Ghost emphasizing the last word. "You more than anyone should understand, Lieutenant."

"Not when you're bloody sending her to a suicide mission!"

"These are not my orders Simon! General Shepherd wants her! I tried to talk him out of it. I can't do much more, son." You swallow when Simon starts pacing around like a rabid dog, pinching the bridge of his nose. "Is there any way I can do it? She can guide me through it the whole time..." he's back, leaning closer to his Captain. "I know I...-"

"Unless you know how to code and decrypt systems to perfection it can't be, Ghost. I'm sorry."

"It would only slow down the mission, get you caught. And in danger..." you reasoned, mumbling and staring down to your feet. There's no one else. Not even Jimmy. The one you had in mind.

Simon's mouth snapped shut.

His eyes are helpless when he connects them with yours. The realization of what's about to happen sinking in his core, he tried. He really did.

One long stride and he's embracing you, so tightly you think you'll suffocate; you hug him back, head resting right over where his heart beats frantically against his ribcage.

"I'm coming with her." He snarls. "Not Kyle, not Johnny. And certainly not someone from fucking KorTac." He turns to glare at Price with a death stare. "It'll be me, no one else."

-

"John's devastated." You tell him. Your back pressing against his hard chest. The water in the bathtub is warm, and smells like lavender and sandalwood. After the catastrophic meeting a few hours ago, Simon was too outraged to remain at the base so he drove both of you back to the safety of his apartment. You rest your head on his left shoulder, enjoying the delicate touch of his hands on your lower belly. He hums, almost absentmindedly. He didn't want to think about Price, or the mission for all that matters. All he can think of is you. He sighs, closing his eyes he presses a kiss on your hair.

"Bloody fucking bald cunt." He spits. You snort at his comment. Shepherd was a complicated man, and hardly one you could negotiate with once he had his mind set on something or someone.

"When do we have to...-"

"Tomorrow." Your lips are pressed into a thin line. "I'll be there no matter what, right next to you, love." He reassures you. You were never one to hesitate during missions but now... releasing a shaky breath you turn your head to look at Simon.

"I'm scared..." Simon's body goes rigid. The hand on your stomach halting. "It's not even for me, you know?" Swallowing your free hand reaches down to find his own, lacing your fingers with him. A muscle becoming prominent in his jaw as he grits his teeth.

"Nothing will happen to you. Bloody count on it, yeah? First shite I deem dangerous I'm pulling us out of there, understand?" You nod.

"Promise me you won't get hurt." There's a moment of silence that becomes unbearable the longer it extends. "Simon..." his eyes are fixated on yours, shining with what you can only describe as worship. The faintest of smiles spreads across his features.

"Don't you worry about me, sweetheart. Not for one second." Breathing deeply you pull him down for a kiss. It's slow and tender; makes you forget about all the difficulties you face. Biting down his lip, Simon takes it as a sign to further deepen the kiss. Tongues finding each other in a fight for dominance. "Don't wanna think about what tomorrow holds. I have you here right now. That's all I need."

-

Your mind goes back to the moments you and Simon shared last night. It was so simple, so real.

That's how things were supposed to be.

Easy.

Not heart wrenching, not stifling down a cry as you watch him get shot. A bullet that was aimed at you .Breaking in had been easy. Way too easy for your liking. But you thought that for once maybe a mission wouldn't be a pain in the ass. The hardest part was getting inside their systems; John was right. It was hellish even for you. It took more time than what you had anticipated. No one would've been able to pull it off.

"Whoever is behind this, they're good." You acknowledged as you type down the codes that will eventually get you in.

"Bloody brilliant you are, kid." Simon watches from the other side of the room, eyes scanning the hallway every now and then looking for any possible hostiles. You send him a coy smile.

"Keep looking at me like that and I'll get no work done."

"How am I supposed to look at you then?" He asks

You don't answer because the screen in front of you suddenly shifts from 'Access denied' to 'Access granted'.

"Got you." You whisper. Simon stands straight. You plug your USB and start downloading all the information as well as setting a virus so their system gets permanently damaged.

"What is it?" He gruffly asks when the files finished downloading on your own device. Clearing your throat you try to ignore the horrible pictures you just took a glimpse of.

"Just... insanity." Is all you can say. A loud metallic sound echoes in the room, you never get to see the person behind you. Ghost's eyes widen and he barks an order your ears don't register, static fills your eardrums. The gunfire starts but lasts mere seconds. Crimson blood splutters from Simon's body.

You stand up, knocking down the chair as you jump out and run where Simon's injured body kneels. You fall down grabbing him by the face. The pain you're feeling deep inside has never been worse.

"I'm fine." He hisses. "Just my fucking shoulder."

As if that would make you feel better.

"Let's get the hell out of here." Your lips quiver. You run back to retrieve the small USB drive.

The body of a man lays down, a pool of blood forms around him. He was hiding behind you the entire time. Had Simon been distracted the outcome could've been atrocious. Yo don't dwell on it.

"Come on, baby." You urge him, crouching down to help Simon as much as you can to get him standing. His weight is just too much for you, you think, when he finally raised to his feet.

"S'okay love. Don't... don't overwork yourself. I'm too heavy, don't wanna get you hurt because of me."

Tears form in the corner of you eyes at such selfless act.

"You're the one who got hurt because of me, Simon." You stammer.

"So what? Would fucking die for you." You shake your head but keep close to him. Pressing down the wound on his shoulder as you head towards the exit. "Evac point is ten minutes away. We should be fine." The gun that rests on your thigh feels heavier than it should.

You're lucky, you guess as you walk away from the god forsaken building.

Lucky that you have him by your side, even when his blood stains your fingers. He's there, you're there and you're making it out alive. Wounded or not, Simon would never let anything happen to you, that's how deep his love for you was.

He wasn't like his dad at all.

He was real, caring, something not much people knew. Not in their lifetime.

The amount of blood he was losing was inhumane. An injured shoulder couldn't cause someone to lose this much blood, you ponder. Your black shirt feels sticky and damp, you take a quick glance and hold back a sob. Another gunshot wound, one he didn't care enough to tell you about and you didn't notice, too scared to even think.

Far in the distance between two big threes a black truck awaits. Johnny's face dropping when he noticed Ghost's decaying form. He rushes in your direction, taking him off of you, carrying his weight. He gives you a concerned look.

"Johnny..." you choke up. "We have to save him, please."

-

It's been the worst 48 hours of your life since you landed. He got two surgeries done in order to remove the fragments from inside his body. You were exhausted, barely ate or slept. It almost felt criminal, selfish, when your eyes started to close and finally gave in.

Then the nightmares came.

Ones where he didn't make it back and instead you had to leave him behind and never got to meet his child.

A warm feeling spreads from your skin. A faint touch. Are you still dreaming? His face erupts in your subconscious mind and you cry again. He's fine.

When you slowly open up your eyes you're met with blue eyes and a raspy voice.

"Don't neglect yourself for me, kid." You're speechless, the searing pain in your heart eases. He knows you so well. Knows you haven't left his side. "Takes more than a bullet to keep me away from you." When you don't move nor speak he continues, clearing his throat. "Come here, sweet thing."

There's a new wave of tears that fall mercilessly down your cheeks. You carefully climb up next to Simon's good side.

"Don't you ever scare me like that!" you weep. Sobbing uncontrollably Simon hushes you. Murmuring words of comfort in your ear. The anesthesia is still making him feel dizzy but that doesn't stop him from kissing every part of your face. Your hair, your forehead, your cheek and finally your lips.

"Let's leave this place for a while. Go on vacation while we still can..." you beg.

Simon's lips twitch. He's smiling down at you.

"What do you have in mind doll?"

You breathe deeply.

"Greece. I always wanted to go to Greece."

There's moments in life when you doubt you'll get a happy ending. Being with Simon at first was pure coincidence, something that had evolved from deep admiration and respect, which then turned into something more. It turned out to sleepless nights at the common room with the task force. Longing stares during briefings. Looking after each other during missions.

The training sessions together. Lending his massive leather jacket because you were always reluctant to bring your own. That one night he couldn't resist it anymore and went to your dorm. How you felt under his touch, oh he was touch starved when it came to you. And when he learned he was going to be a father, that moment would be ingrained into his memory until his very last day.

"Greece it is."

It's a promise.

TAGS:

@nijiru @illyanam1011

[nemesis-writer]

Five Minutes (Chapter 2)

Masterlist Uh Oh TW: Neglect, mentions of blood, mental illness

The sins of the world are no match for the neglect and hatred you were given. You know that they'll never like you, who would like a villain of the most horrific stories?

Every man and woman has an Achilles' heal, and Bruce's was his children, not you. You weren't his kid, you were nothing in the face of the Waynes and of the news.

At the Waynes'...

"We need to find her now." Damian says in a rush.

"No need I was able to find her location, now all we need to do is wait while she's asleep." Tim admits.

"Well then let's prepare and bring her home." Jason rushes.

They all suit up and brought their best gadgets to eliminate all the guards. They had a plan for your 'coming home', (or what normal people call kidnapping.)

we kill her guards since they take a routine

Jason will take out the snipers

Tim will hijack the security cameras

Cassandra and Barbara will play as maids

Dick, Damian, and I will take all the possible assassins nearby.

Then we go to her room while she sleeps

Later that night...

Everything all worked out and they were able to eliminate (or if you want to simplify it, kill) all the criminals. But then something went wrong...

There was no one in her bedroom except a mannequin on the bed with a tape attached on it's chest. They had to put it in the VCD and when they play the recording they saw you.

"You really think I wasn't prepared? Y'know for talented vigilantes you do have a predictable routine." You say.

"WHAT THE FUCK!!! Y/n what the hell are you saying?" Damian yelled, even though he knows you won't hear.

Tape starts...

"You have mediocre skills which is good for other criminals, but you don't like picking up on new ones. Like Jason, better at climbing, or Tim, good in IT, or even the Barbies, good at blending in.

Another flaw was underestimating me. You've seen the recordings in the asylum, but yet still seem completely ignorant to what I do. I am completely capable of building an empire without you or your money.

I guess I should say thank you. Thank you for neglecting and hurting me in the most vile and heart-less manner. It molded me into forming an empire that's bigger than the yakuzas, and bloodier than the mafia.

Now let's get to the point...

You've just killed over 20 innocent people, I drugged them and edited the normal function of their brain. Now your a murderer and a villain like me and I have recordings of your crimes and if you want them erased then you're gonna be going along with my plans.

I will send you messages, thanks to the help of the Riddler. And every one you figure out, one person will be removed from the tapes and won't be considered as a murder but rather as a disappearance.

Now let's see if you're truly as talented as you like to assume."

Tape ends...

Taglist

@lunayaps, @not-aya, @iluvcatzz, @vanessa-boo, @ivyrose9194,@thesehandsarerated-e, @eyeless-kun, @errorunfound1, @gwyneveire, @alishii, @cxcillia

[paternostergays]

kerblam pisses me off soooo much because of the complete lack of thought behind it - same as lucky day. the famous 'the systems aren't the problem' line (terrible choice of word, because the doctor is referring to automation and not the system of capitalism) tops off the conclusion of the allegory of the extreme activist, which was poorly handled and makes the whole episode appear to be supporting capitalism anyway. the episode is right to point out that charlie's plan (aka mass murder of kerblam customers) is awful, but doesn't drive home the message that a) he's targeting the technology rather than capitalism and b) if he gets his wish then what? even more people work underpaid menial jobs that have been established as easy to do via automation? which is the end result of the story anyway. the episode does a very good job of pointing out the capitalist system and how damaging it is (particularly the line about how the company is its own security, healthcare etc) but does nothing to fix it - and fumbles the 'people who misuse technology are the wrong ones not the technology itself' message to boot.

ANYWAY. onto lucky day, because they were written by the same guy. overall much better and more nuanced episode that again gets its messaging confused because the writer picked UNIT to function as an allegory for the climate deniers/conspiracy theorists/anti NHS (etc) types to rail against. If UNIT was not so heavily militarised, the episode would read a whole lot better. But yknow, it's hard to disagree with Conrad when he points out that they have a massive Avengers style tower and many many guns and go around arresting journalists (slight aside, he was arrested for something like breaking the peace - I can't quite remember the exact phrasing - when what he was actually doing was basically a misuse of emergency services, which would have worked a lot better alongside the 'I didn't take the antidote' line). and the climax of the episode being the paramilitary government organisation siccing a deadly alien on a guy was... yeah, again unintentional because we all hate conrads guts and sort of want it to happen by that point, but still. and I saw someone make the point that the episode refused to address any of the systems in place/social climate - such as government spending on things other than the systems put in place to help people, the cost of living, struggling healthcare system etc - that would allow people to become radicalised in the way conrad was, which makes sense when compared with kerblam. both point out the flaws in the system and have villains who rail against them in the wrong way - but neither goes so far as to suggest blaming (or, consequently, fixing/abolishing) the systems themselves for the problem they've ultimately created.

i think that's what annoys me about both episodes, to different degrees. they both leave you feeling confused about the message they're aiming for.

[educatedsimps]

— you are my sunshine, sakusa kiyoomi

≪ back to fics masterlist

sakusa kiyoomi x anorexic!reader

**TRIGGER WARNINGS: EATING DISORDER (anorexia), slight nsfw (light petting with no penetration, NC16 at most?), swearing PLEASE DO NOT READ IF YOU MAY BE TRIGGERED BY THE ABOVE TOPICS. please exercise some self-care and enjoy some of our other fics instead! we'll see you in our next post <3

a/n: i really NEEDED TO do this. doing this for my sanity 😭😭😭 - yves

content under the cut!

"You are my sunshine, my only sunshine," you sang as you drove along the expressway.

"You make me happy, when skies are grey," Sakusa, comfortably seated in the passenger seat, sang in response. He gently squeezed your thigh.

You let out a breath with a smile on your face. That day was an exciting day for the two of you. It was the match between the MSBY Black Jackels and Schweiden Adlers, and Kiyoomi had been a ball of nerves for the past week. So to show your support, you decided to drive your dear passenger princess, Sakusa Kiyoomi, to the Kamei Arena Sendai Gymnasium.

You had spent half a day at the office and the other half dolling yourself up for the match that evening. Kiyoomi frowned at the sheer effort you had put into looking good for him at the match. He grunted out something along the lines of "getting distracted by how pretty Y/n is" and how "You have to be less pretty or I'll have to learn how to fight with my bare fists". You laughed at the thought of your husband trying to smash someone's jaws with his fists when he hated any physical contact with strangers.

After kissing him goodbye at the back gates leading to the MSBY locker rooms, you went to the Ladies and touched up your lipgloss infront of the mirror. As you looked at your reflection, you thought to yourself, maybe I do look good.

Ding!

From: MSBY girlies + Keiji <3

Miyu (Atsumu's GF) [6.43pm] Y/n pookiee~ Are you here yet?

Keiji (Bokuto's fiance) [6.44pm] We're at the VIP section, Row 1. The security guard knows who you are so he'll show you the way in later. You sure you don't want us to come find you?

Kira (Meian's wife) [6.44pm] ahhh can't wait to see you, Y/n! XD

You smiled as you read their messages.

You [6.45pm] I'll be alright, thanks! I'm heading up right now Excited to see you guys too :>

They had been planning to sit together since the start of the new season, after Kiyoomi had formally introduced you to the rest of the team.

As you reached the VIP area, you immediately regretted agreeing to sit with them. Your self-esteem shattered the moment you saw them.

They were drop-dead gorgeous, with their perfect makeup, in their perfect outfits that hugged them in all the right places. They looked straight out of a fashion magazine. It was something about how feminine they looked, and the way they all smiled sweetly when they saw you. So inviting and loving. They were the boys' partners after all.

But they've got to have flaws, right? That's only human.

Their smiles felt genuine, and you could see glimpses of their partners in them. Some were rowdy, hugging you when they saw you and treating you like one of them. They asked you questions about yourself, even getting drinks and snacks for you and including you in the post-game party at Bokuto's place. For a moment, you felt like one of them.

But how can a whole group of people be so damn perfect?

God, how you hated how inferior you felt. The differences between you and them became even more apparent when you saw the post-game pictures that had posted on Instagram. You had only gotten their Insta handles just a day before and were already on the verge of unfollowing.

It was insane how out of place you felt as they sat there so pretty in just their partners' jerseys. Somehow, they still managed to look so good. Unlike you.

Eventually, your brain churned out only one reason - it all came down to how small and delicate they looked compared to you.

How they looked worthy to be the lovers of the MSBY players. How they were pretty enough to be their partners.

It was crazy enough that you were comparing yourself to the Akaashi Keiji. How alluring he was, even just sitting in the same area as you. He was even more beautiful up close, there was something deep within his psyche that was so magnetic. It was evident that he took care of himself, with how his dress shirt clung to his thin waist. You can't help but admire him, and you wondered if your own clothes would ever do you the same favour.

If only you had a waist as small as his.

It scared you how the need to fit in with them became so acute. The hopes of not being the laughing stock of the group fueled the waves of self-hatred that you hadn't felt since high school. You were bullied for being chubbier than average. Teenagers were brutal, especially to anything they perceived to be different.

Obese. Katsudon. Pork planet. They were corny, sure, yet shivers ran down your spine at the memory of those names. Not long after, you started having nightmares of that darned high school. The same bullies, the same by-stander classmates, and the new addition of Kiyoomi in his high school uniform with disgust in his eyes, telling you to break up with him. His back faced you whenever you asked for the reason.

It's because of how fat you are. He'd still love me no matter what right? Right?

And every time you woke up from one of those nightmares, you would wake up sobbing.

Yet every time, Kiyoomi still seemed to be blissfully asleep. You knew he'd always have trouble sleeping before an upcoming match and with him looking so at peace, you never had the heart to wake him up.

He doesn't need to know about this. I'll tell him when morning comes.

But you never came round to telling him about the nightmares. The seeds of doubt from those recurring nightmares started to sprout inside you.

You stopped finishing your meals. You started running with Kiyoomi in the mornings to "spend more time with him". Lunch breaks at work were replaced with attending the pilates class across the street. The cans of Celcius in the fridge were depleting faster than ever. Your daily coffee order changed to an Iced Americanos with 4 shots of espresso.

And when the number on the scale dropped, the grin on your face was evidence enough of how light your heart felt. Nights were long when you spent the first hour waiting for Kiyoomi to fall sleep before you shimmied yourself out of his warm embrace to count the flaws of your body with your reflection in the full length bathroom mirror. With how your waist measurements dipped along with Sakusa's compliments of how much healthier you had become lately, your were giddy with happiness.

But God, did it hurt when you realised you had seemed 'unhealthy' to him in the first place. He could have just called you fat, it's not like you would've crumbled, right?

Hit with the sickening realisation that the voice in your head was right all along, that it was even how Kiyoomi saw you, your tears mixed into the shower water one day after a pilates class. You were glad that your husband was busy at practice and wouldn't come in to take an impromptu shower with you and see you in this wretched state.

Please, please, please, don't prove I'm right.

⊹₊⋆☁︎⋆��₊⋆ ☀︎ ⋆⁺₊⋆☁︎⋆₊ ⊹

"You'll never know, Dear. How much I love you~,"

Your husband sang from the kitchen as you hugged him from behind. With his beefy back against your face and him cooking breakfast, it felt like a blessing so surreal. You wished you'd never have to leave this position.

It's a late Saturday morning and you and Kiyoomi had agreed to have your usual stay-at-home date.

"Eggs?" He looked over his shoulder to you hugging him like an oversized stuffed toy.

"Maybe just egg whites today. I wanna try a new brand of yogurt I got yesterday with the granola I made this week," You replied, stifling a yawn

He nodded in acknowledgement and fetched the carton of egg whites from the fridge as you detached yourself from him and took the cutleries and dishes out of the dishwasher.

"How have you and the girls been? And how's the uh, pilates class you said was kicking your ass?" Kiyoomi asked as he plated his scrambled eggs.

You took the low fat, high protein yogurt out of the fridge as you replied, "It's fun, but I definitely understand why Pilates was made for prisoners."

His eyes were obviously judging you as he laughed to himself. "It can't be that bad. Definitely not as bad as our training when Meian-san is in a bad mood."

You could only sigh with a roll of your eyes. You retorted with an elbow jab to his side, "Why don't you come for class one day and we'll see about that, Mr. I'm-So-Strong."

He squirmed with the frying pan in his hand and a spatula in the other, swatting you away like a fly. You stepped away to giggle at the sight of him using his spatula like a sword in Barbie and the Three Musketeers.

When all was done, the both of you sat down at the small, 4-seater dining area in your home and continued chatting about how the week had gone.

"Itadakimasu!"

And the first thing that Kiyoomi dug into was your yogurt. You stared at him, offended. He ate it as if he was the one who had bought groceries that week.

The moment the yogurt touched his tongue, his face turned as sour as the yogurt he ate. With his face all scrunched up like that, you couldn’t help but let out a small giggle as you took the second spoon of yogurt from the same bowl.

“Y/n, I have no clue what’s so nice about this- this bowl of cold, white... glue," he looked at you in pure astonishment.

“That’s because you're supposed to eat it with fruits and granola, Omi-Omi," You stated simply.

You didn’t have the guts to tell him that you were more worried about exceeding your 600 calorie count for the day than how shitty the yogurt tasted.

"Atsumu's rubbing off on you..." he grumbled, making you giggle at the way his face scrunched up at the sound of Atsumu's nickname for him.

After breakfast, the two of you moved over to the sofa to browse Netflix for a show to watch. As usual, Kiyoomi had the remote control in his hand and the other on your thigh. Catching a glimpse of the wide smile on your face, he noticed that your thigh seemed a lot smaller and more toned than before. He glanced down at it, though his face didn't betray his shock.

Since when did your thigh get so small?

"Y/n, you like the size difference between my hand and your leg? Is that why you're smiling so much?" he teased, smiling as you blushed crimson.

"Didn't realise you had a size kink," he whistled, grinning as you slapped his bicep playfully. He tightened his warm grip on your thigh, making you gasp. Your hand reached for his shoulder as you swung yourself from the sofa and onto his lap for a peck on his lips. You could feel him smiling into the kiss before you pulled away.

"Seducing me this early in the morning, babe?" he said, poking your nose lightly with his finger.

You smirked teasingly at him as you moved your hips against his, making him groan softly into your ear.

"Maybe," you drawled, tracing his jawline with your finger before going in for another kiss. This time his lips trapped your tongue, sucking on it greedily. Dopamine rushed to your head as your innocent kiss became a steamy tug of war. His hands ghosted your abdomen and you suddenly became hyperaware of it.

Fuck, he can feel how fat I am.

You instinctively flexed your abs, in an attempt to stop him from feeling the folds of ugly fat around your stomach. His hands held your waist firmly as his thumb traced your abdomen, before coming to gradual stop.

Kiyoomi broke apart from the kiss, leaving your swollen lips to chase after his, but his forehead leaned against yours to signal a stop.

"Babe, what was that?"

Your heart was beating wildly in your chest, and you weren't sure if it was from the make-out session or his realisation that...

"What was what?" you returned, looking at him with your best attempt at puppy eyes.

You were cold sweating by then, but you hoped he wouldn't notice.

"Are those… abs?" His eyes flew wide, his attention all on you. His eyes were filled with curiosity and oh, how they glimmered so beautifully.

You wished upon the stars you'd never have to lie to those eyes ever again.

"Of course, I just thought maybe you'd like to see a different side of me... a little sexier," you averted his gaze, guiding his hand towards the hem of your oversized shirt.

He lifted your shirt and you saw how his cheeks turned an embarrassing shade of red. Burying his face in your chest, he tilted his head up to meet your eyes. "God, I have no clue what to do with you, Y/n."

It was quite evident what he wanted when you felt his shaft become more prominent through his home shorts.

And the rest became a memory you keep with joy. 

Please, please, please, don't bring me to tears when I just did my make up so nice.

But all that joy didn't last when you woke up the next morning, scrutinising your body in front of the mirror.

How could you let him see this? This slob of a body?

Shame clawed at your throat as your fingers tugged at the fat of your stomach. You placed your palm over your collarbones, and they felt sharper than they used to. You knew you'd definitely lost the weight, but the greed to look more dainty than ever had you in a chokehold.

These thighs look so fat. Your arms are so flabby. Gosh, even your armpits are fat. It's hideous.

You're hideous.

And nothing but regret and guilt kept gnawing at your insides like a feral beast. The only solution you came up with was to grab the biggest shirt in the house - his MSBY jersey - and the sweatpants that covered your legs entirely.

In the following days, when Kiyoomi tried to remove any article of clothing from your body, you grabbed his hand to stop him with the excuse that you were tired. But truthfully, your new routine had been wearing you out more than you had anticipated.

His next match was with EJP Raijin on another Saturday night, with crowds roaring from both sides of the arena. You let yourself loose the moment the girls called your name across the hall, running over to hug you.

Your defenses go down as you shared a laugh with the others. When they offered a pack of chips from the snack table, you hesitated. But your inner voice reminded you that you had been fasting since the previous day, so you take the bag of chips with a smile. You felt lightheaded and giddy when a couple of the girls compliment your figure - it was the happiest you'd felt in the past two months.

The hunger pains were worth every bit of this happiness.

During the match break, you found yourself talking to the EJP players' partners as well. When Atsumu's girlfriend introduces you to the other girls and guys, your attention went directly to Suna's fiancée. It's obvious that she was a much smaller build than the other girls but the way her dress hung off of her made you gulp nervously. Your brain was strangely and subconsciously wired to recognise her as competition. She was quiet and elegant, small but eloquent. She was everything you wanted to be.

"Oh, mineral water's fine with me," she said with a smile when you offered her a bottle of Coke Zero.

GUILT GUILT GUILT

It made you choke back tears when you realised how fat you were behaving. Or how bloated you looked right then, with all that carbonation and salt.

And those thoughts immediately got rid of any joy of that day. When you headed home, you tried your best to look happy after Kiyoomi had served the winning goal, but your mind was plagued with the nagging thought of how you had let yourself slip.

Later that night, after snuggling in with your husband and making sure he was fast asleep, you snuck out of his warm embrace. His biceps were so warm, and being sandwiched between his chest and his arm made it hard to leave when it was the best place to be.

You left to burn off the calories from the snacks you had binged on earlier that evening. As you left the bedroom with a yoga mat in arm, you were determined to complete the new routine you had promised yourself in the shower. You wished you could do it without any problems but recently, you had been seeing black spots and felt lightheaded every time you did any physical activity. It was a bitch to have to stop for awhile before continuing your exercises.

The moment you stepped into the shower, sweaty and tired, you didn't notice your husband stirring awake as the warm water hit your body.

Kiyoomi was confused when he woke up to his arm cold and the absence of your body pressed against his. He had been itching with nerves those few months when he realised your behaviour had started changing around him. And that same anxiety only heightened when he heard your sniffles coming from the shower. It was the first time you became so reclused from him. At first, he was worried that you were wringing yourself dry from the amount of work you had, but he later spiralled into thinking that it was because you were falling out of love with him. 

When he heard the bedroom door click open, he hurriedly pretended to be asleep.

Beep. Silence. Beep.

Your sigh made him itching to hug you and ask what happened. But the sigh following the beep of the weighing scale made it clear to him that the number on the weighing scale had somehow upset you one way or another. You approached the full-length mirror and peeked again to make sure your husband was still fast asleep.

You lifted the jersey above your chest, throwing it off to the side of the bed where you slept.

Kiyoomi honestly thought you were about to climb into bed topless (don't ask, he was not in his working mind). But when you stood still in front of the mirror, scrutinising your body like a piece of meat at the market, he could tell that you weren't heading to bed anytime soon.

You pinched at every corner of skin you could find. You looked at the woman in the reflection, and all you could see was the poor girl in high school. Fat and ugly, unlikeable and pitiful.

You then turned to your side, hoping to find comfort in seeing a flatter stomach.

In the dim lights, Kiyoomi could see the outline of your emaciated figure and the faint outline of your ribcage was enough to make him open his eyes fully in shock. The bruises along your spine made him wonder if he had been too rough with you all those times you were intimate. The way your hipbones jutted out were enough to throw him into a pool of anxious thoughts.

Maybe he should talk to you about it tomorrow.

But the last straw was when you muttered under your breath about how fat you still were.

No, he had to talk to you about it ASAP.

The bed creaked as you crawled back into his arms and he wrapped his arms around your waist. He never remembered your waist being so small before.

"Can't sleep?" you asked, turning your head towards him. His eyes opened to see your face in front of him.

He was sure the moonlight was playing tricks on him. Your face had harsh lines that he had never noticed, your nose sharper than ever and eyes bigger than before. Your collarbones peeped out of his jersey, more prominent than he had ever seen.

Fuck, how did it get so bad?

He knew you were trying to get fitter but he never realised you were developing something beyond just healthy habits. Kiyoomi could only blame himself for being so absorbed by his recent matches. For not noticing you were harming yourself.

He nodded and you snuggled into his chest, your arms wrapping around his waist comfortably. His thumb ran down your back in an effort to calm you both. Chills ran down his spine when he felt every ridge and bump of your vertebrate. It made him question how he had never noticed everything come crashing down.

"Babe, you okay? Aren't you be happy? Your team won today's match," you looked up into his eyes which were filled with concern. His eyebrows were furrowed in deep thought.

"How... how did you get so small?" he breathed.

You gulped. Things could only go south from here.

He continued. "I didn't realise it but when Atsumu mentioned it last week, I couldn't help but notice how much weight you've actually lost. Is it even safe to lose this much?"

He held you like you'd slip through his fingers at any moment, like water in a broken plastic cup.

You tried to avoid the topic, tried to look away but he wouldn't let you.

"...Atsumu? What did he say, specifically?" your eyes turned cold the second he mentioned his teammate.

What did he have anything to do with this?

Kiyoomi sat up against the bed frame before sighing deeply. "He was just asking if you were okay, 'cause you didn't seem as energetic as usual. And you can't argue with me, you have lost quite a bit of weight."

You knew that it was taking a lot out of him to talk about this, especially since he was never a confrontational person. It had to mean a lot to him, for him to face a situation like this head on.

"I'm-"

"No, Y/n. You're not fine. Have you been eating well? No, scratch that- have you been eating at all?"

You could feel the waterworks about to start, you felt the back of your eyes warming. Your fingernails dug into your palm, as if you could physically stop the tears from falling.

"I... I ate just now. With the girls," you whispered.

"A Proper Meal, babe. Not one of those 'girl dinner' crap you used to pull in college," he gritted out.

You let out a breath.

"2 days ago. Dinner," your voice cracked, and the waterworks had officially begun. Shame erupted in your chest.

"Fuck," Kiyoomi cursed under his breath.

He couldn't believe this was the same Y/n that would drag him out to enjoy their favourite foods together after a tiring day of practice and work. The same Y/n that enjoyed cooking together with him. The same Y/n that had monthly competitions with him to see who could finish more sushi plates at the conveyor belt sushi restaurant down the street.

It was the same Y/N that deprived herself of any food for days because she saw nothing but ugly, unwanted fat on her emaciated body.

Kiyoomi was speechless. He blinked several times, willing the tears welling up in his eyes not to fall but it was useless. You saw the way his tears rolled down his face along with his sharp intake of breath. He had never thought his wife would do something like this.

The guilt of not noticing what was happening to you was eating him alive.

He managed to calm himself down slightly before doing the only thing he could think of in the moment. He pulled you in and held you tight.

"Please," he whispered. Hugging you close, he begged, "Please don't take my sunshine away."

© educatedsimps 2024. do not repost, copy, translate or plagiarise any work from this blog on tumblr or any other platforms. if you do, the simps will hunt you down. likes and reblogs are appreciated!

[imagineitdearies]

~ A Flawed Eternity ~

(AKA drabbles set in the Perfect Slaughter universe.) Thanks to my new author discord community for voting on this one! 🩵

In which Tyrus walks in on Astarion's 'alone time.'

~

Even though they’d cleared the tunnel under the river, secured the fishing hut and passage to sneak into the House of Healing, and had a half-reliable map of the Gauntlet of Shar, the war council had delayed an infiltration for almost a tenday merely arguing over who would go.

With the colder weather creeping in and battles stagnating into standoffs, Tyrus supposed they foolishly thought they had time.

Morfred wanted a larger group to ensure they had enough support. Jaheira said no more than three highly-skilled individuals, to give them better chances at stealth. Ganyl simply wanted to go, even though his entire enclave was against risking their leader, and it took two meetings just to talk him down. Halfred didn’t think the quiet assassination plan of Ketheric Thorm was a good idea in the first place. They all worried that Ketheric’s brother, Malus Thorm, could be too tight-lipped or ignorant of the Gauntlet’s secret entrance to be worth the risk of fighting first.

Astarion had given up on attendance for the last two meetings. But as designated ‘Leader of the Vampires,’ however underqualified Tyrus felt he was for such a role, he felt obligated to attend. Just so he’d have updates to give Astarion and the spawn army below, really. He and Astarion had come up with the idea of a quiet assassination to avoid further bloodshed, so they were already guaranteed a spot in the party if and when it was approved. Halsin was a tentative third in Ganyl’s place, though Jaheira wanted it to be herself who struck Ketheric’s killing blow.

Now Tyrus felt close to giving up himself. He left the meeting before its scheduled end when Jaheira and Halfred started a shouting match about the risks of trying Ketheric's son at the Waning Moon Tavern instead, and Messaged Ganyl to send word if a decision had finally been made. Then he crossed the road past the armory, over the short bridge and around the small, cheery fountain in front of their temporary abode of late, the Last Light Inn.

Tyrus let out a plaintive sigh of relief the moment he was through the doors and could shrug off the sapping weight of the Cloak of Dragomir, avoiding the occasional beam of sunlight until he reached the stairs and could head down to the basement floor. Most of the rooms were used for storage—but at the end, built around the low docks the inn now used to receive war supplies from the east, were a couple of suites that looked directly out over the Chionthar.

He hadn’t expected to find Astarion in their suite, really. His partner liked to socialize a lot more than Tyrus ever did. In their short time here, he’d already been chatting with some soldiers at the inn’s bar, meeting more often with Halsin, and playing enough lanceboard he now could beat Tyrus if he focused hard enough. Astarion was used to crowds, to strangers, while Tyrus still found himself seeking the safety of four walls and a single locked door.

As he reached the door, however, Tyrus thought that safety must have been an illusion as his ears picked up Astarion’s voice, loud and seemingly in distress.

“Ah!—ah, gods—Tyrus!”

Tyrus wrenched the door open in a panic, hurrying inside—

—and was confronted with the sight of Astarion in a bath, pale face flushed, eyes squeezed shut, steamy water sloshing around the fast pace of his wrist under the water as he tugged at his pink, erect cock.

Tyrus stared. Even as Astarion’s eyes wrenched open bleary and wide, his hand freezing in the water, Tyrus couldn’t stop looking. He’d seen Astarion’s cock before so many times—but in his defense, it’d been months. Only feeling the shape of it in Astarion’s trousers when their kissing progressed further, only seeing Astarion’s bare body offhandedly as they dressed. Now Tyrus could also admire how much more lively Astarion’s skin looked despite still being pale, how his half-submerged, muscled middle had softened into looking less malnourished and dehydrated thanks to a healthy diet.

After another second, Astarion relaxed a bit. He waved toward Tyrus with the hand that had a moment before held a death-grip on the wooden tub’s edge, smirking as he huffed, “Could you close that, love?”

Tyrus’s momentary shock at the man’s beauty faded, then, in time for his rational brain to kick in. “I can come back later—?” he started to offer.

“No—no, I . . .” Astarion interjected, only to hesitate. His eyes trailed away for a moment, uncertainty lining his face. 

Tyrus retreated back to the door. “I don’t want to interrupt,” he spoke in earnest, and smiled at Astarion when the other vampire tentatively met his gaze again. “Truly—I’d much rather you enjoy yourself, like you’ve been wanting to.”

“Not quite like how I’ve wanted to,” Astarion scoffed, though a moment later the lines on his face faded. “No, stay here, darling. If you’d like to. I’m only imagining you here anyhow.”

“That’s quite different,” Tyrus pointed out, though he went ahead and shut the door, locking it for good measure before turning back to Astarion.

“Is it? I was just thinking of you interrupting me like this,” Astarion smirked, gesturing at himself. The hand in the water wandered back between his legs and began to lightly stroke as he sighed, “Though in my head I skipped the part where a whole conversation would be necessary for you to join. Bring a stool?” he nodded at the floor just next to the tub.

Tyrus didn’t hesitate to obey. He grabbed a small cushioned one in front of the sheet-covered mirror and placed it so he could sit just next to the tub’s head. His stomach swooped at being this close to Astarion—at watching him stroke himself again, bare and exposed save for the flimsy distortion of the sudsy water.

He wanted to touch him. He wanted to help, or at least kiss Astarion. But he wouldn’t dare do a thing without checking, given how impossible it’d been for Astarion to be sexually intimate since Cazador’s death.

And Astarion was such a pretty sight just to watch, with his eyes shutting again and dark lashes on display, pink lips slightly parted. Meanwhile, his small breaths and huffs of pleasure as he built back into a rhythm sounded sweeter to Tyrus’s ears than any melody. Even the smell of him was delightful. That smoky, musky perfume he always had a slight hint of at the palace was now much more refined and strong thanks to their shopping in the city. It was already a feast for the senses, if not all of them.

But when Astarion’s other hand extended just a bit past the tub, palm up, Tyrus was quick to take it and enjoy a sense of touch as well. Astarion hummed and pulled their clasped hands down into the water, flattening Tyrus’s palm to rub against his inner thigh. Tyrus gratefully mimicked the movement, and next let Astarion’s hand overtop his guide him to gently handle Astarion’s ball sack, eventually taking over to stroke his erection in tight, quick motions Tyrus still remembered the rhythm of well. 

Astarion’s hand stayed cupped around his throughout it all, continually guiding and keeping control even as he sighed, “Tyrus . . . uh, I’ve missed these hands . . .”

“Would you like it if I did anything else?” Tyrus murmured, after another minute of nothing but stroking and listening to Astarion’s heavy breathing.

Astarion’s eyes shot open, head lifting to regard Tyrus with a furrowed brow. His hand slowed Tyrus’s to a stop. “Such as?”

Tyrus bit back the assertion of Anything, anything at all. Giving actual ideas would probably be more helpful, if Astarion didn’t have his own. “Kiss you. Your lips, your neck,” Tyrus started with. “Or . . . here,” smiling as his thumb idly swiped over the head of Astarion’s cock and his partner visibly shuddered in response. Letting his voice go a bit lower, as he pointed out, “I don’t need to breathe, after all.”

“Fuck,” Astarion swore, then gave a short, barking laugh. “This is what four months of celibacy has done to my sweet, virtuous partner? I didn’t think you even liked that sort of activity, darling.”

“I haven’t ever tried it, technically. At least not of my own accord, so,” Tyrus shrugged. 

The air went somber ever-so-slightly at his words. 

"Shall I?" Tyrus asked in hopes of dispelling it.

“Not this time, my love,” Astarion sighed, starting to move Tyrus’s hand again around him. “But . . . yes—kiss me, please. I think I just need a little bit more of something—”

Tyrus wasted no further time. They’d kissed goodbye only hours ago when he left for the council meeting, but it’d been more than a tenday since Astarion had kissed him like this. One of their first nights in this inn, in fact, before he’d grabbed one of Tyrus’s wandering hands by the wrist and ended things rather abruptly. But whatever else Tyrus did or did not feel in the mood for otherwise, he never got tired of kisses—Astarion’s free hand cupping his jaw close, lips so passionately pressing and sliding against Tyrus’s, tongue darting out to taste and in return welcoming him in.

His instinct was to bury his free hand in Astarion’s curls, but Tyrus gripped the tub’s edge instead. He didn’t want to risk the wrong touch ending this lovely, easy moment. Not when Astarion was so clearly enjoying his other hand’s touch at the moment, hips bucking up and splashing the water a bit more.

Sometime later, a small moan escaped Tyrus when Astarion slid his hand back to tightly cup the nape of his neck, angling Tyrus’s head for an even deeper, all-consuming kiss. Astarion’s hand tightened a bit further around Tyrus’s in the water, so he sped up his movements even more—and groaned with Astarion as the other elf wrenched free of their kiss and threw his head back, shouting “Tyrus!” shakily, his cock pulsing in Tyrus's grip, his spend streaking in the water as the press of his bent legs made the wooden tub slightly creak in protest.

Tyrus kissed down Astarion’s neck and bobbing adam’s apple, slowing his strokes with the guidance of Astarion’s hand as Astarion breathed harshly through the aftershocks. When at last Astarion released his grip on Tyrus in the water, head resting against the tub again, Tyrus went back to gently stroking his smooth inner thigh. He rested his forehead against the other man’s clavicle, listening to them both breathe for a moment before whispering, “Alright?”

Astarion huffed—and then he began laughing. A soft, lighthearted, warm sound Tyrus couldn’t help but smile at, and hoped never to forget as Astarion’s chest lightly shook underneath him. Then Astarion’s wet arm emerged from the water and wrapped around Tyrus, pulling him in just a bit closer despite the awkwardness of the tub between them.

“Oh, besides a sore wrist of late,” he chortled, laying his cheek against Tyrus’s head when his giggling finally stopped. “I did start to find some enjoyment, even managed an orgasm the last two times, though. And this? Hmm . . . this is nice.”

Tyrus smiled wider against his chest. Of course, after another minute his back twinged and he regretfully had to pull from Astarion’s embrace—but was grateful his partner quickly dried off and joined him on the bed, despite the fact only Tyrus still needed a trance.

Once they'd both changed and his lover was spooning him snugly from behind, Tyrus thought to ask, “Have there been other things you like to imagine? Any specifics that I should take into account?”

The entire line of Astarion’s body froze up behind him. “I . . . I wouldn’t say there’s much I’m sure about acting on, darling,” he said in a slow, careful voice. “It’s been hard enough just to imagine sex without the thought of a customer, or him, intruding. Once that’s less an issue, I—I should be back to normal.”

“Normal,” Tyrus huffed, shaking his head and hugging Astarion’s arm a little closer to his chest. Being around relatively ‘normal’ people of late had taught Tyrus just how far off he and anyone else from the spawn colony were likely ever to be from such an ideal. “But hand jobs with you guiding me, would you say that goes on the safe list?” he stipulated.

Astarion was quiet for a moment. Then he kissed the tip of Tyrus’s ear, repeating, “The safe list, what a sad state of affairs—but yes, I’d call that a success. We’ll have to see about your mouth. And perhaps, if you’re up for it, I think I'd enjoy some unconventional stimulation, just skin-to-skin.” A beat of silence, then Astarion’s voice came out so soft and uncertain, almost afraid, as he admitted, “I . . . I’d still like a break from anything so performative as full intercourse, if that’s alright . . . and, if you can forgive it, I may still just need time, before I can offer attentive service to you, love . . .”

Tyrus twisted under Astarion’s arm so he could face him—but only to wrap his arms tightly around him, tucking his chin into the crook of Astarion’s neck. Declaring, gently but firmly, “There’s nothing to forgive, and no service to worry about. You have always been so giving, love." Even more softly, he coaxed, "Now, let’s take care of you for a while?”

Tyrus felt his partner’s body shudder in his arms. Then, increment by increment, Astarion melted into the embrace.

“Gods, I do love you,” he whispered in answer.

[fafodill]

honestly I think a huge part of why Harry Potter has held up so well in terms of audience interest is because it’s like JKR threw the idea that children’s literature should be a moral fable out of the window and instead created a pinpoint accurate microcosm of British politics and society. Just with magic. We invest in it because we recognise our reflection in it. I don’t know how deep a thinker JKR is, but she’s an exceptional observer of human behaviour.

It’s not like there aren’t really important moral messages in there - it’s just that the good guys are good by the rather low standards of not being genocidal fascists. They’re milquetoast liberals, self righteous hypocrites, they’re blinded to the impact of their indifference, they’re deeply cruel, they’re selfish, they’ve got heaps of internalised bigotry that they’re convinced they couldn’t possibly have because they’re so secure in their self-perception as good people. They’re all realistically awful, (well, except teenage Sirius, who is very possibly a psychopath, and Neville, who is a proper legend), but in a way that demands empathy for absolutely everyone because they’re all awful in a way that ourselves, our neighbours, parents, friends, teachers, politicians etc are and could be, given the right circumstances.

I agree with you.

Jkr is (was?) amazing at observing human behavior and the way she fleshed out her characters is a big part of why we love them so much and relate to them in my opinion. They're very believable.

She clearly struggled at understanding her own characters tho (hence why she doesn't understand why people love Draco for example) but it's not even important. I think part of why the fandom got so big and still has newcomer all these years later is because the characters are super interesting and flawed, and there's such a big variety as well!

So many different neurotic flavors to analyze and see ourselves in.

But also mundane stuff too.

Also the (very flawed) context in which the story takes place (a school with House rivalries, a war in the past, a war in the present) is super dense and rich to explore. And in a way, all the flaws of her writing and all the moral problems in the story are also compelling us to discuss and develop said world. Also since the story doesn't take place in the muggle world, it's aging pretty well since it's not referencing 90s culture that much.

Except for the mindset - which is more a reflection of jkr - and it bothers me that new readers might not take it into account when criticizing the books (like the way the teachers are being towards students for example).

Honestly, HP is a mind treat.

[my-castles-crumbling]

Hey Cas.. about your last ask. I am not that anon, but I used to be religious.

Please don't take this as a hate message or anything, I swear I don't mean anything bad.

I just wanted to ask something about something you said.

You said , 'you know religion and bible is created by humans right' correct me if I am wrong. I just want to point out, you know some people doesn't believe that, right? I mean, i think it's not correct to say it like it's a fact, because it may not be for other people.

Most of the believers believe religion is sent by god, so saying it's created by humans are like, wrong for many people. For most people, the books are god's words. And it is not created by humans.

Bible changed through the time, yes.

But for example Muslims don't think the quran didn't change, and it's the word of god. Religion is rules set by god, not humans.

At least that is how it is for people.

Meanwhile I agree belief depends on people and no one have to live according to religion. They can believe it's made by humans. And I agree you don't need a church or any temples, but in most religions praying places are needed, and it's okay to believe you need a church.

I believe religion is made by humans too.

I believe the bible is written by humans.

But I used to be religious, and I want you to know it's a belief. And i saw a lot of people who believes this. And just like they can't prove god exists or they can't prove religion is sent by god, we can't prove it's made by humans either.

I hope I didn't use a rude language, I tried to tell my point only, and I understand if it's surface level of words, therefore if my language is not enough to explain myself. my English is not that well.

Hi!

I'm so glad you wrote in to me about this. You definitely weren't rude, please don't worry! I'm honestly happy you said something <3

To you and anyone else who follows me who's religious, please know that I didn't intend to offend. I haven't been to church in a LONG time and even though I have a surface level understanding of some religions, I certainly don't understand them on a personal level. I don't want to make anyone feel uncomfortable for their beliefs at all- I think religious freedom is so important.

I'm putting an explanation for what I meant below the cut if you're interested, because I feel like maybe I didn't word it properly, but also like...these are just my beliefs and I'm one person so I am NOT saying I'm unequivocally right.

I guess what I meant is like...even if someone believes the bible/quran/torah/etc is the word of God, to my understanding, it's not a belief that he sent the physical book here, right? People; humans; wrote down his words? (Please, genuinely, correct me if I'm wrong. But I have a vague memory of someone writing some words on a mountain?) And then, these books have been translated and re-translated by humans hundreds of times. It's like a game of telephone--things get lost in translation. So what I meant was more that people, who have flaws, are interpreting for God. And as people have flaws, they make mistakes, or can be biased.

Same thing with religion. I'm not familiar with the organization of all religions, but with catholicism, you have the Pope, Bishops, etc...they're all humans. I think some people believe they're blessed by God, but they're not all-knowing like a lot of people believe God is. So, even unintentionally, they can make mistakes.

And absolutely, I didn't mean that you shouldn't go to church! I think churches, temples, mosques cane be wonderful places that offer safety and security for people. I know some religions require attending church/temple/mosques for prayer. But what I meant was that if there are no safe places available, I'd like to think a higher power isn't just listening in those buildings, she/he/it's listening everywhere.

I hope all of that makes sense? I really didn't mean to offend anyone, so thank you so much for saying something <3

[ineffably-human]

I'm honestly pissed at the reviewers who were claiming this season is all fanservice with not enough action or whatever the hell it is they said.

Good Omens s2 was fanservice, it was huge fun but 90% of it was everyone spinning their wheels while learning maybe one or two pieces of new information. Everyone is largely the same, flaws and all, and until that ending happens it's mostly meant to make us enjoy watching our OTP and have comforting feels about them.

This season of Our Flag is about Ed and Stede (and, I'd argue, Izzy) deciding the kind of people they want to be. That's happened since minute one and every episode has moved that forward. We see that in their fantasies, in their hallucinations, in who they are separately and together, in every single person they meet.

It's not a coincidence that Ricky is a noble fascinated by pirates until his playing around gets him hurt, and then his reaction is to burn it all down. (Unlike Stede, who thinks he's lost the man he loves and his immediate reaction is to forgive his crew and get them to safety before he even thinks about mourning.)

Or that Ned Lowe is mannered and loves music but is a sadistic snob who thinks everyone is disposable, and that's who Stede kills in cold blood.

It's not a coincidence that Zheng is a brilliant pirate with a broader vision but a people-focused kind of leadership, who is actively trying to build a force that ends pirating by giving everyone pay and security just when Ed is thinking about retirement again.

Even the way some of the crew find their bliss and leave or start considering it, the way they operate as individuals but also as a sort of unified force demonstrating community and safety and open easy queerness and how they're all transformed by it (sometimes literally). The contrasting images of piracy as encroaching death and perfect freedom.

It all hangs together so well, it's so smart and has such clear things to say. To call that 'fanservice' is such an insult to it. To deliver more of what made the show gather a fanbase by understanding its own arc and message is just good, strong writing. Because writing that understands the audience it built doesn't feel mindless. It feels like a thesis.

[maybeitsalivescribbles]

Sidekick in distress (4)

Part 1 part 2 part 3

(this is going to turn whumpy, so...bones are broken and all that kind of stuff)

Detective stood behind a pillar, looking at the devastated parking. After years in this town, he knew better than saying “no one could survive that”. Then again, not a lot of people would have shrugged off what had caused that devastation either.

It’d taken a lot of wreckage to climb and a lot of swearing, but he’d finally found a torn cape. Supervillains loved their capes. He couldn’t imagine one letting it behind willingly. Whatever else went down, the fight had hurt both of them. There were no bodies around, though. No hero, no villain, no citizen, nothing.

Something was terribly wrong. He raised his head. There was no helicopter in the cloudy sky. No firefighter, no ambulance, no caped jerk in the air or on the ground. That part of the city wasn’t that remote. He barely dared to breathe while exploring the ruins. He kept throwing glances behind his back, as if some attack was imminent.

He gritted his teeth. He had to find something. Last time he’d checked, Supervillain had a lot of flaws, but they weren’t radioactive. It was fine. He’d made a quick stop to his office first. His gun was burning him through the holster. His fingers gently felt the cannon before he took another step.

He kept on exploring, trying to breathe as softly as possible. A large stone landed just in front of him, making him start. Detective looked up. It’d been the hat of an impressive mount of wreckage. The whole shivered, hesitated, then decided it was a good moment to collapse in his direction. He ran as fast as he could while the ground trembled under his feet. When it calmed down, he went back and jumped on the new piles. His eyes grew wide.

Emerging from the stones, there was a mangled hand. It had long nails, a ring around the fourth finger, both characteristics he knew for having been strangled by that hand not so long ago. It was still attached to an arm, but the rest was buried under tons of wreckage.

He turned around, his fist pressed on his mouth. After some deep breaths, he slipped on the hole. He pressed the wrist, making sure there was no pulse. There wasn’t. No livid fingers closed on his own. Detective shook his head, took a picture, climbed back, and sent it to Healer. Someone else had to have this evidence. The immediate answer was:

“Get out of here. Please.���

“I’m not planning to settle there,” he texted back. “Going back now.”

“Hey there.”

His head snapped up. His hands froze, clinching his phone.

“Hey,” he answered to Hero, who was walking towards him with a smile.

Oh, they’d bullshitted all right. Their walk was fast, with no limp or hesitation at all despite the treacherous ground. They barely had dust on them. Detective glanced at the traces they left on the stone, as if they were walking on sand.

“What happened?” he asked. “I wanted to park there.”

Hero laughed:

“You haven’t heard? I just fought a villain. I send a warning to all citizens to stay out of this place.”

“Ah, didn’t get the message, sorry.”

“Don’t be. I’m glad I found you.”

“I feel so much safer now that you’re here,” assured Detective, whose heart did his best to stay in his chest.

They smiled at each other. Hero held out their hand.

“I need your phone,” they said.

“Sure.”

Detective gave it to them, with the security code still on. Hero took it and slipped it into an inside breast pocket.

“Hey, I thought you needed this!”

“Yes. I’ll call Sidekick with yours, since they won’t answer for me. I think they’ve blocked my number.”

“The kid? They’re out of town?”

“They were kidnapped. Corrupted, if you wish. If you want my guess, I think they were convinced to run away by another consumed by jealousy. A pathetic insignificant man, wanting to make someone greater than him fall. I thought I recognized this voice.”

A heavy silence fell, during which Detective counted the beatings of his heart. He looked around. What for? He wasn’t fast enough to get away. Hero shook their head, looking at the frozen man with pity:

“I can nearly empathize, you know. You are, after all, a relic of the past. A rusty chariot in a world of limousines. That must be hard.”

“I’m surprised you recognize me. I thought we peons all looked the same to you.”

Hero chuckled:

“You, a father? Don’t make me laugh. Sidekick’s parents don’t have any money for a lawyer. Hell, I’m not even sure if they know that job exists. I gotta say, I never thought you’ve stooped that low.”

“At least I’m not throwing a tantrum because a kid doesn’t like me. What, is your job too hard for you? Do you need a fourteen year-old to hold your hand?”

Hero considered that thought for a moment, their gaze lingering:

“I did it for them, you piece of shit,” they said flatly. “For their own good. So you’re going to give me the code to your phone, and we’ll all have a little conversation to set things right.”

Detective opened his mouth, then closed it. He had no word. None. Not when he had a mangled hand in his head. Supervillain had handled him like a puppet, and Hero had squished them like a bug. There weren’t a lot of things left to say, even less to do.

So he stepped backward and aimed at them.

Hero looked at the gun, at the man’s face, and began to laugh. They stretched out their arms in an inviting gesture. They didn’t stop laughing as bullets flied, first around them, then straight at their heart.

“Did you get that out of your system?” they asked pleasantly.

Detective answered by a grin that made them pause. Putting the old gun back in the holster, he had the grim satisfaction of seeing Hero patting their heart, changing colors, realizing what he’d been aiming at. They took his phone out of their inside pocket, then theirs, trying to see if either could still work.

“It’s not that good,” he told them with a sad smile.

Hero looked at him, their face now devoid of all expression, crushing the remnants of his phone in their hand. Something turned very cold in Detective’s chest, but he didn’t run. It was no use, and besides, he didn’t want to.

“Well, at least this won’t take long,” he mumbled, hands in his pockets.

A wan smile appeared on Hero’s face. Their fist raised slowly. Detective instinctively leaned in that direction, brandishing his elbow as a shield. The hit didn’t come, but the ground suddenly shifted from his feet. While his head landed harshly, two hands grabbed his leg and squeezed and bent it in an impossible angle. Dazed by the fall, he didn’t even scream. The world went blurry under his eyes, hearing only the sound of his breathing while the other leg received the same treatment. Pain came, but muffled, gentler than it should have been. For a few seconds, all sensations were gone. When he could think again, it was to realize that Hero was on the other side and dragged him by the collar of his jacket.

Instinctively, he tried to fight back. He couldn’t even reach them, and an instant later he found himself just above the hole where he’d found Supervillain. They both exchanged a look, then Hero pushed. The crash was as unpleasant as possible. Detective curled himself as much as he could, biting his fist to muffle a scream. Gritting his teeth, grunting like a dying animal, he used all the strength of his arms and arranged himself in a sitting position, his broken legs in front of him, as straight as possible.

Hero was looking at him from above, but rather distractedly. When they talked at last, his voice was calm, slightly hesitant:

“I think…I think you helped Supervillain. You were desperate for money, and you accepted their offer, betraying me and the whole town. Sad, really.”

They smiled at Detective’s death glare:

“Don’t let it get to you. It’s just in case your corpse is found, but I don’t think so. Do you know how many explosives they use to get rid of old buildings? They told me, I was shocked. Of course, this might take a while before workers come. A couple of days, maybe a week. They wait for my approval, you see, and...well, I wanted to have mercy, but you had to piss me off.”

Detective stayed silent. He looked without a sound the aperture above him being covered by beams no normal person could have lifted on their own. The metal clanged loudly, as some gigantic nail shutting his coffin for good. After an eternity or two, it stopped. With a shaking hand, he took his flask from his jacket, drank the last sip of cocoa left, and threw it away. As adrenaline and shock wore off, pain came in waves through his legs, burning his shattered ankles.

Then, and only then, he let out the sob he’d been repressing.

*

(next part is coming soon, I promise)

Back to Hero x Villain Masterlist

[lullabyalikpoptarot]

Jang Wonyoung Perspective Reading

Disclaimer: No facts, just interpretation of the cards and messages I get.

I still wanted to get through my favorite male Kpop idols before I dive into any girl group members, but she was on my radar and she is known as a controversial Kpop figure, be it good or bad, she is talked about and sought after, so thought I get to her. So, of course the song Barbie Girl by Aqua came up for me. On the surface she can be depicted as such. In Korea she is the standard of what people would like to look like whether you agree or not. I do feel there could be more to her story. I hope it isn't as creepy as I think it may be, but we'll see, now to the cards.

Okay, well, this may go the route I was expecting. There is a lot of shame and guilt she feels. She got both the cards of gilded regret and down cast pride. This could be due to hate comments she gets. She may also get comments by people around her that make her feel like shit. Now with the is this me card, she doesn't particularly know who she is. Has she got plastic surgery? It is like she has no sense of self and maybe looks at herself and doesn't know who she is. She is molded to how they wanted her to be. Man, the Barbie Girl reference makes even more sense. She is just confused as to who she really is. There are things she has regretting doing and that she feels shame in. Now with this Bride in a Cage card, the person on the card is rather thin and frail, kind of a shell of themselves, practically dead inside. She may never feel good enough. I am getting the message body dysmorphia from the card, just the messenger, not saying she has it. It is like she thinks about is this really the direction I want to go. She has kind of morphed into their puppet is what I am getting. It is like she is a clone of herself. Who she was she isn't anymore and who she is now, she isn't sure, like she asks herself who am I? What do I think? She isn't sure.

There is like an inner battle with herself. This unwillingness to accept part of herself, probably more so her flaws. She fights anything that goes against her image, not sure what that means exactly. I can also see this card as people fighting for her attention. She prefers the solitude and being alone away from all the distractions. She can pretty much be a loner. There is a secure base she has made for herself, to keep her safe, she does her best to keep to her image. She does not want to fail, look weak, or show any cracks. There is a sense of forgiveness she has for others for maybe what they have done or said to her. I say she is more forgiving to them then maybe herself. Well, the card I didn't want to come out, but was expecting to come out was the traumatized card and that came out. I got hints of this in the Dark Mirror reading. She dealt with some sort of trauma, now is it the mean comments, the surgery she may have to go through, or some sort of abuse, not sure I want to go there. She is trying not to get angry, upset or frustrated about what has been done to her, but to rise above and keep her cool. I have to take deep breaths during this reading, because I am getting what I expected and I wanted to be wrong, now I still can be, but energetically, something is off here. I just want to say when someone gets traumatized, they tend to dissociate to help move on and not relive the past or situation. Like I am getting that wasn't me, that was someone else, this is kind of a coping strategy, this is what I am sensing, no facts.

Okay, love these cards here. I wanted to see a bit more positivity here. She has a strong divine feminine energy. Is she follows her intuition and connect with her spirituality and use her creative energy she can very move through this and gain success in her own right. She may be already doing this. She seems to be spiritually guided and protected at the moment that can help guide her in the right direction. There is something good for her to come out of her terrible past and things she may have faced. As long as she keeps kindness in her heart and communicates from the heart and does not allow this to harden her or make her into a villain, so what I am getting is you know how victims can being villains and repeat the cycle. This tells her to keep kindness within her, so she doesn't turn into that in whatever form that it would be for her. Like she can go on a path to being very nasty and cruel to others, possibly a bully, but she doesn't have to go down that path, hurt people do hurt others, but it doesn't have to be that way. She can break that cycle.

There is some spiritual growth she needs to and can learn from what has happened in her career. She may have had to face the challenges she has to obtain the growth she needs on a personal/spiritual level, but if she dealt with any sort of trauma/abuse not a great lesson to learn as a human. On a spiritual level it makes sense, but no one wants that on a human level, that is a terrible experience to go through. Her life mission is to gain spiritual lessons through her work. Now with this House 8 card, the keywords on the cards are about transformation and Karma. I read it as transforming Karma, so whatever karma she may have, she can transform it and break that chain of cycle.

Both these card numbers come to 11 from this spread. 10 is a closing of a cycle, so I see 11 as a new chapter and beginning for her. To release the old cycle and start new. They are asking her to trust things as they are and that things will align itself for her. To trust that things will work out for her. To kind of look at the big picture. They kind of, I say they, because I sense this is more guidance from the collective/guides, even though she won't see this, they may want us to know lol It is like they want her to look at this from a spiritual perspective to look to why it happened for her, but no to her, very hard to do that on a human level though. They are asking her to be more gentle, soft and kind, once again, to not get too hardened, cold and harsh from what she experienced. Okay, walking in circles here, now ended it with Tarot.

Okay, this 5 of Swords is very telling, a lot of keywords here, so she may be falling for the trap of being cruel to others, or this is done to her, or it is cycle. The keywords on this card are argumentative, hurtful comments, conflict with others, avoidant, challenging to be around and pushes others away. I feel these all apply to her. I feel she tends to keep her distance as much as possible, but can get triggered and say mean things, but this can also be done to her. See, now with the Libra energy, this is like the opposite energy, a need to please others, do what they are told. I can also get the vibe with certain Libra's is that they don't really know who they are, they kind of mold themselves to what other people want them to be. I can see that with her. So, on one end she could say hurtful things, but she always finds a way to make peace, she may be the one to always apologize, even if she isn't in the wrong. Now with the Queen of Pentacles, she is successful and abundant in her own right. Her career is very important to her. She values her career. This may be something she puts above anything else. She would do anything to hold tight to what she has and what she earned. There is a nurturing and giving aspect to her as well. I feel this woman earned and worked hard for what she has achieved and has been through a lot of shit to get there, so I give props to her for that.

Okay, that went how I expected it, of course the first parts were a bit hard, but there were some highlights here. I just hope she works on healing and listens to the guidance to be gentler towards herself and others. Happy I did this, quite fascinating.

[hamiltonconfessions-but-better]

Alexander Hamilton is depicted as a deeply flawed yet compelling protagonist. To claim that Hamilton “did no wrongs” would be an oversimplification, but in the broader context of his life story and motivations, his actions and choices reflect the complexity of human nature. He is not meant to be a perfect hero. Instead, Hamilton is a well-written, flawed protagonist who personifies ambition, trauma, and survival. The tendency to criticize him for not being morally impeccable misses the point of his character arc. In reality, his flaws are what make him relatable and human, and they highlight the larger message of the musical: the struggle for legacy, identity, and self-worth in an unforgiving world. To expect Hamilton to be a flawless, ideal figure is to misunderstand both the character and the human experience.

From the first song, the audience is introduced to a man who has survived more hardship than most can imagine. Orphaned at a young age, growing up in poverty, and facing constant instability, Alexander Hamilton was forced to fight for his survival from the very beginning. His determination to rise above his circumstances is a central theme in both his life and the musical. Miranda's version of Hamilton makes it clear that his ambition was not born of simple greed or arrogance but of a deep-rooted fear of being forgotten or left behind. This makes his drive to achieve understandable, even when it leads him down darker paths.

It is easy for critics to say, “well, he didn’t have to write The Reynolds Pamphlet,” or “he didn’t have to antagonize people like Jefferson and Burr,” but these moments stem from a deeper, almost primal need to secure his place in history. For someone who grew up with nothing, the idea of losing everything he built would have been unbearable. Basic empathy requires us to understand that Hamilton's decisions were influenced by his traumas. No one who has lived through what he did would come out unscathed or free from flaws. 

One of the greatest disservices people do when discussing Alexander Hamilton is expecting him to fit the mold of a “perfect protagonist.” We live in a world where audiences are conditioned to look for heroes who are morally upstanding, never make mistakes, and always choose the right path. but life—and great storytelling—doesn’t work that way. Characters like Eliza, who retain their strength and grace despite enduring immense loss, are inspiring, but they are not the only valid models of heroism. Not every person who suffers will react with unshakeable composure or selflessness. Hamilton's flaws make him more real, more complex, and more interesting. They reflect the reality that people, especially those who experience trauma, are not always equipped to handle their emotions or decisions in ways that fit neat moral binaries.

Hamilton's recklessness, pride, and ambition make him both admirable and infuriating. He rises to greatness through sheer force of will, but that same will sometimes leads him to self-destructive choices. His need to defend his legacy (whether by writing The Reynolds Pamphlet or by relentlessly opposing political enemies) comes from a deeply personal place. He isn’t a perfect leader or a perfect family man, but that imperfection is what makes his story so compelling. To fault him for not being more like Eliza, or even more like George Washington, is to impose an unrealistic standard on a character who was never meant to be idealized.

It's fine to critique Hamilton's actions—we should critique all characters’ actions—but what many critics miss is the essential empathy required to fully understand Hamilton's motivations. His decisions, especially the ones that seem irrational or destructive, are the result of years of hardship, insecurity, and an overwhelming need to prove his worth. Writing The Reynolds Pamphlet, for instance, was a terrible decision on the surface, but it came from a place of desperation. Hamilton believed that by confessing his own sins, he could preserve his political legacy. For someone whose entire identity was wrapped up in being remembered, that seemed like the only choice.

Moreover, holding Hamilton to the standard of someone like Eliza—who, as people often note, endured immense personal loss with dignity—ignores the fact that not everyone reacts to trauma in the same way. Eliza's strength doesn’t invalidate Hamilton's struggles. His mistakes and vulnerabilities make him a more fully fleshed-out character, and while we may not agree with everything he did, we can understand why he did it. His life was a constant fight against oblivion, and he chose to make himself known, even if it meant sacrificing personal relationships or making enemies.

What makes Alexander Hamilton a great protagonist is not that he is morally perfect but that he is deeply, unapologetically human. Characters like Hamilton show us that imperfection and complexity are what make for good storytelling. If Hamilton were a flawless hero, always making the “right” choice and never stumbling, his story wouldn’t resonate as deeply. His ambition is both his greatest strength and his fatal flaw, and this makes him relatable to anyone who has ever strived for something and paid the price.

By the end of the musical, Hamilton's legacy is defined by both his achievements and his mistakes. He revolutionized American politics, laid the foundations for the country’s financial system, and fought for the principles he believed in. At the same time, his impulsiveness and need for validation led him into unnecessary conflicts and ultimately cost him his life. These contradictions make him a well-rounded, unforgettable character, and his flaws are what drive his story forward. to ask for anything more would be to erase the richness of his character.

Alexander Hamilton was not perfect, but he wasn’t meant to be. Miranda's version of Hamilton is a reflection of the complexities of human ambition, trauma, and survival. To dismiss him because of his mistakes or to judge him by unrealistic standards of perfection is to ignore the essence of his character. Hamilton's flaws are what make him great—they are the cracks in his armor that allow us to see the full depth of his personality and his struggles. 

To truly appreciate Hamilton, both as a person and as a character in the musical, we must recognize that perfection is not the point. He was a deeply flawed protagonist, but one whose story resonates because it is grounded in the reality of human existence.

-alexander hamilton defense anon

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