#also you thank you anon for this supportive ask

[ozzgin]

I've been thinking about this for a while: what would happen if Y/n from the Yandere school was transmasc and was flying under the radar for a while... but obviously yandere's don't go well with secrets and he gets outed,, what would happen? How is he outed--if by someone in particular does that person get murked?

Non-cannon cause its specific gender but that scenario eats me up fr

Also, can I be 🌙 anon? Thanks :D

I wasn’t entirely sure which one of the scenarios you’re referring to, so I’ll go for both cases. Mainly their reaction. As to how they found out, it can be a known rumor without Reader being aware of it, or a straight-up confrontation where Reader is asked about this particular dilemma.

Is Reader still feminine presenting and unsure about coming out as transmasc? The yandere students would be outraged and devastated. Why would you keep such a secret from them? Do you not trust them to support you? Have they given you any wrong impression? They’d be scratching the walls, trying to figure out how to approach the topic to you without making it obvious that they stalked you for private information.

“Oh no, I dropped my ally pin. How clumsy of me, huh? Did I mention I’m a big supporter of trans people?”

Is Reader masculine presenting and outed as afab? No big deal, really. Minimal logistics to be considered.

“I can’t believe someone found out like this”, you whine to your classmate.

The student stares at you for a moment, before furiously typing something on his laptop.

“Sorry about that”, he eventually says. “Had to make some changes to a document.”

He closes the shameless smut fic of you and him with a satisfied smile. Accurate once more.

[snowballseal]

How they react to you having a lot of tattoos

LaDS X Reader

Anon Request: I was curious if you would be willing to write the boys reacting to a partner with a lot of tattoos? I feel like MC is pretty covered up and as someone with full sleeves and a large back piece, it’s always interesting to see how people react to seeing them.

Note: Y’all killing me with these fun requests 🥺 I love this. I only have a few minimalist tattoos, but I want MORE. Thank you for the lovely request, anon. The scenarios were fun to think of.

Word Count: who’s to say 🤷about 1000 each

---

Rafayel

The first time Rafayel sees your tattoos is when you go on a date to the beach. You’re not even thinking about it as you change in the bathroom. When you decided to become a hunter, you knew you would have to cover up your tattoos. The policy, while being outdated in your mind, isn’t all that bothersome since you prefer to wear long sleeves anyways.

So it never occurred to you that Rafayel had never seen the full expanse of the ink on your body.

Which is why, when you step out and his eyes go impossibly wide as he looks at you, mouth dropping open, you’re first and foremost confused.

“What?” 

Wrapping your arms around yourself, you feel an inkling of insecurity curl in your chest as you look down at your two-piece. It’s nothing immodest, just a blue bikini that you thought was cute and also met your standards for support. It’s a little frilly, but a part of you thought he’d love that. 

“Do you not like it? I don’t uh, I don’t have anything else to wear…” Your voice comes out uncharacteristically meek.

That seems to snap Rafayel out of his daze. The artist shakes his head, the tips of his ears going positively red, as he still can’t rip his eyes from the lines decorating your skin. He reaches out, tracing the gentle petals of a flower on your waist.

“How come you’ve never shown me these, cutie?” He asks, voice touched with awe.

Oh. Heat creeps up your neck. So that’s what he was on about. You glance down at your body. You suppose it is a little jarring. It’s not like you’re covered head to toe, but you’re definitely a well covered canvas. Both of your arms have partial sleeves that curl up around your shoulders and continue along your collarbone. A large collection of flowers adorns the right side of your waist, traveling down your hip and turning into a pattern of vines down your leg. You have a few other ones, some silly, some heavy with meaning.

“Sometimes I forget I have them,” you admit a bit bashfully. Rafayel gives a low hum and your breath catches as his fingers continue to trace the lines on your waist, his touch warm and ticklish. “I’ve had some of them since before I started training.”

“I have to say, I’m a bit jealous that another artist has touched your body,” he murmurs, voice dropping to something low. His hand slips around your waist, drawing you closer so he can trace his lips over the intricate ink on your collar bone, ocean eyes glinting up at you with something possessive yet overflowing with adoration. “But even I have to admit this is beautiful work. Befitting my queen.”

Your cheeks go warm. As red at the tips of his ears. There’s something so reverent about his touch and it makes your heart flutter wildly, but you’re all too keenly aware that you’re still in public.

Not that it stops you from poking the fish.

“Would it make you feel better to know my newest one is for you?” You ask, reaching to touch his cheek with a teasing smile.

Rafayel’s face lights up. He draws back immediately, looking over your tattoos like an eager child until he spots the fresher ink on your left leg. You stifle a giggle as he drops to his knees, fingers curling around your ankle to pull your leg off the ground so he can get a better look. 

“Rafayel!” You bark out a laugh, balance stolen away. It forces you to lean on him just so you don’t fall over. “Geez, I could have just sat down, you know!”

“This is for me?” Rafayel, oblivious to your complaints, grazes his fingertips tenderly along your skin.

Shaking your head, you give his hair a playful fuss, “Yes, you impatient fish. It’s not done yet, but it’s about us.”

It’s the beginnings of an ocean scene. A beach circles right above your ankle, depicting the silhouettes of two younger kids, their hands clasped in a promise. As the ink continues up your leg, it transforms into what looks like a night sky, but instead it’s water, swirling lines of blue and purple, full of schooling fish, one in particular standing out, bright red among the cool tones. A familiar symbol. And on the back of your calf swims a graceful looking figure, reaching for the light, edges blurred between fish and man and water.

A lump forms in Rafayel’s throat as he touches the red fish, a familiar warmths spreading across his chest as the same symbol glows faintly. Seeing it on you fills him with an emotion he can’t quite explain.

“You do realize what this means, right?” Those ocean eyes flicker up to you. They glint like dark pearls, iridescent and beautiful, yet carry a depth of emotion that makes your breath catch.

“I do,” you answer unwaveringly.

Rafayel’s lips pull into a small smile. He never expected someone to do something like this for him. Though, of course you would. And it’s beautiful.

“It’s a stunning piece,” he murmurs eventually, leaning forward to press a kiss to your knee, right above the ink, his hair tickling your thigh, “Though I still think the canvas is the most beautiful thing of all.”

A snort escapes you and you bite your lip, heat rushing back to your cheeks, “You’re ridiculously corny, Rafayel.”

“I know.” His smile shifts into a wolfish grin as he stands up, scooping you into a hug. You squeal as he spins you around, holding on tightly despite knowing he’d never drop you. It’s only when you’re positively red that he stops, his mirthful eyes watching your face. “It’s worth it if I get to see this face. I swear, cutie, if you do more things like this, I might become unbearable.”

“You never could,” you giggle and loop your arms around his neck, “Though, I was thinking maybe next time, you could come with me?”

Rafayel raises an eyebrow, “Oh? You want to get matching tattoos? I’ll admit, I’ve never considered it…but if it’s with you, I can’t think of anything more fitting.”

“You’ll have to design it, of course,” you hum, tone turning a little more excited, “Oh, I can’t wait! It’ll be so fun! We can do it the next time I take a break, and after swimming season, obviously.”

Leaning in, Rafayel gives you a short kiss, laughing against your lips, “Anything you want, my lady. As long as it’s with you, I’ll enjoy every minute of it.”

---

Zayne

The first time Zayne sees your tattoos is when you reunite at Akso. You’re not sure how long it’s been, having only seen him every so often at Grandma Josephine’s for dinner. All you know is that he’s been busy, and is now one of the most remarkable young doctors in Linkon.

And also your new primary care physician.

“Knock knock.” 

You rasp your knuckles lightly against the door to his office, eyes lingering on the nameplate displayed prominently beside it. A strange sense of pride swells in your chest. To think, your childhood best friend would reach such heights.

“Come in,” Zayne calls, voice as aloof as ever.

You slip into his office and let the door shut behind you. The doctor sits at his desk, flicking through a file on his tablet. You hesitate on the edge of his peripherals, not sure exactly what to do or how to act. It’s been a long time since you two have been truly close, not since- But you’ve missed him.

A lot.

“My apologies, my previous surgery ran longer than expected so I am still collecting your records.” You blink, his voice drawing you back out of your thoughts. “You may take a seat if you’d like.”

“Okay.”

Maybe you’re the only one who feels weird about it. He seems completely unaffected, like you’re a normal patient, ever the professional. You awkwardly drag a stool a little closer to his desk, just far enough to not seem weird and so it doesn’t feel like you’re looking over his shoulder.

After the silence goes a tick too long, you can’t help but break it, fingers fiddling nervously with your sweater, “How have you been, Doctor Zayne?”

A faint smile ghosts across his lips. You haven’t changed one bit. 

“I’ve been well, thank you for asking. Work has become quite constant, so I’m afraid I haven’t been able to accept many of Josephine’s dinner invitations.” His eyes dart over to you briefly before focusing back on his screen. “You look like you’ve been doing well since we last saw each other.”

“I have,” you chirp, anxiety easing up a bit, “I’m really close to being finished with training and finally joining the Hunters Association. You should try to make it to dinner this week though! Grandma really misses you. She talks about you all the time.” You falter, cheeks warming a little. “...We’re all really proud of you, Zayne.”

Zayne’s fingers freeze against the tablet. An indecipherable look crosses his face, but he schools his features quickly and gives you a small smile.

“Thank you…you both have always been so kind to me,” he murmurs and finally turns to face you, “I’ll try my best to make it to dinner this week.”

Your face lights up, excitement sparking in your eyes. “Okay! I’ll let her know! She’ll probably make all your favorites. They haven’t changed, right?”

Zayne shakes his head, and you can’t help but kick your feet giddily. It’ll be nice to catch up. You have so many questions, and also so many stories to tell from your training days.

“Now that those plans are made, shall we proceed with your exam?”

“Right, right.” You almost forgot that’s what you’re here for. Nerves coming back, you shuffle on top of the stool. “What do you need me to do?”

“First, if you would remove your jacket, I’ll take your blood pressure and listen to your heart,” he instructs, voice settling back into something professional and neutral.

As Zayne turns away to fetch whatever tools he needs, you make quick work of taking your jacket off. The room is a little chillier than you expect. You wrap your arms around yourself to chase away the goosebumps that erupt across your skin. Your eyes stay glued on Zayne though, watching as he pulls a stethoscope and blood pressure monitor from one of his drawers.

“Do you usually do exams in your office?” You ask offhandedly.

“Not usually. As a cardiothoracic surgeon, I don’t often conduct general exams,” he hums, cleaning off the blood pressure cuff with a sterile wipe.

“Am I special or something, then?”

“With the rarity of your protocore syndrome, I thought it would be most effective to handle your care myself, yes. Though if it makes you uncomfortable we can-”

Zayne’s words cut off as he finally looks back at you. Surprise flickers across his face.

You freeze like a deer caught in headlights, though you don’t know why. Is there something on your face? A stain on your tank top? You glance down, finding nothing of the sort.

“What? What is it? Do I have something on me?” Your hands flicker up to your face, but you don’t feel anything.

Zayne blinks and shakes his head as if coming out of a stupor. The lightest blush warms his ears.

“My apologies. I just wasn’t aware you had so many tattoos.”

Oh. Holding out your arms, you look over the expanse of ink on your skin. You guess it’s a lot. It has taken you a few years, but you’ve effectively covered your arms and shoulders in art. Most of it is florals, with small, meaningful symbols or items hidden in the foliage. You also have a few others, though they’re covered by your clothes.

“I guess you wouldn’t have seen them,” you hum thoughtfully, “I wear a lot of long sleeves to Grandma’s dinners. And work requires us to cover them up.”

“They’re quite intricate.” He sets his tools aside, drawing his chair closer to you. His hand reaches for your arm, but pauses, his eyes darting up to yours. “May I?”

“Go for it,” you whisper, feeling a little bashful now that his attention is focused solely on you.

His fingers graze your wrist lightly, as if he’s scared to press too hard. You watch as he silently turns your arm over, taking in every minute detail of your tattoos. He lingers a little longer on the small, anatomical heart at the center of it all, surrounded by gentle jasmines. They’re incredibly well done, even he can see that, and they all look like they were done some time ago.

Something melancholic and sentimental settles in his chest.

“I remember when you were just a little girl, crying over her popsicle…You truly are all grown up now, aren’t you?” His voice is thick with something you can’t quite pinpoint, his touch turning impossibly tender as he traces the lines up your elbow.

Your heart flutters a little too wildly for your likings. “You’re all grown up too, mister chief cardiac surgeon. That’s a lot bigger than some tattoos.”

Another smile pulls at his lips, breaking his impassive facade.

“These have all healed well, though,” Zayne says, a spark of mischief flickering in his eyes as that strange emotion recedes, “You must have taken good care of them, and that alone is an impressive feat for you. That’s how I know you’ve grown up.”

A mock gasp escapes you and you pull your hand away to press it against your chest. If only to break the contact so he doesn’t notice your racing pulse.

“Doctor Zayne, I am deeply offended at your insinuation,” you insist vehemently, “I am a responsible person, soon to be an amazing hunter! I know how to take care of myself.”

“Says the woman who walked on a sprained ankle for a week out of pure stubbornness.”

“How was I supposed to know it was sprained?”

“I told you it was.”

---

Xavier

The first time Xavier sees your tattoos is after a mission that doesn’t go quite right. You come home with a bandage wrapped around your shoulder and chest, and the added instructions to change the gauze once a day. Which, of course, you can’t do yourself.

“Xav?”

Xavier glances up from where he’s sitting in the sun, a book long forgotten in his lap. Those sleepy blue eyes land on you questioning. You shuffle awkwardly in the doorway, a roll of gauze in your hand.

“Would you help me real quick?” You mumble, a soft blush warming your cheeks, “I can’t uh, I can’t change them myself.”

“Of course,” he hums immediately, standing and stretching languidly, much like a cat. “I am at your service, my lady.”

“Thanks,” you sigh, shoulders sagging, which sends a twinge of pain down your arm.

It was a nasty cut. You had been so focused on fighting one wanderer that you hadn’t noticed another smaller one appearing behind you. It was your fault, and thankfully it didn’t hit anything serious, but it was in just the right place to make moving your arm difficult.

Xavier silently leads you back into the kitchen. Taking the bandages from your hand, he pulls out a chair and motions for you to sit. You do so carefully, not wanting to jostle your body too much. The hunter sets the gauze aside and kneels down in front of you, his fingers finding the hem of your sweater and pausing, placid blue eyes turning up to you in question. 

Ever the gentleman.

A tiny smile pulling at your lips, you offer him a small nod. That’s all he needs to pull it off, his hands moving slowly, with the utmost care. Thankfully, the room isn’t too cold, the setting sun pouring through the window and warming the space. The fabric musses your hair as he slips it over your head, and you instinctively reach up to fix it.

Completely missing the way Xavier’s eyes go wide as he looks down at you.

There aren’t a lot of things that catch the hunter off guard. But the ink covering your skin certainly does. Even with the bandages, he can tell it’s expansive, curling around your shoulders, dipping down your upper arms, painting the entirety of your back. It’s reminiscent of Starry Night, hundreds if not thousands of strokes forming delicate lines that follow the natural curves of your body, flowing so beautifully that they practically beg his fingers to trace them.

And as always with you, Xavier has a startling lack of self-control.

You blink at the feeling of his fingers grazing your uninjured shoulder. His touch is so light, you could almost mistake it for a breath. Almost like he’s worried he’ll hurt you.

“Is something wrong?” You ask, voice twinged with concern as you try and twist to look at where his touch lingers against your skin.

“Stay still,” Xavier orders gently, and you freeze, brows arching in confusion. Realizing you're panicking a little, the hunter leans down to press a kiss to your forehead, offering a soft explanation, “You never told me you have so many tattoos. I simply want to appreciate them.”

“Oh.” Your nerves fizzle out, replaced with an embarrassed tinge of excitement. So that’s what this is about. “I forgot I haven’t shown you them yet. I guess I’m so used to them that I forget they’re there, especially since I have to cover them for work.”

Xavier shifts behind you, fingers following the lines over your shoulder. They bleed into a wash of color, dark blue and purple and pink splashes across your back. A small planet of light sits between your shoulder blades, numerous stars dancing around it. His touch lingers on the planet, a flicker of light spilling from his fingers as his evol reacts unprovoked.

“What made you choose this?” He asks, voice wavering imperceptibly. 

“I’m not sure,” you hum, shrugging your good shoulder, “I’ve always liked space. My grandma used to take me to the planetarium a lot when I was young, and I used to have dreams about it, of floating between planets and exploring the stars. I always felt drawn to this one planet, it was so pretty and it looked like it was made of light, but I could never reach it…”

Philos.

Something twinges in Xavier’s chest. How strange. You don’t remember the planet, that’s for certain, yet some part of you was still connected to it. To your home. To him. All this time…

“It’s beautiful,” he all but whispers.

Heat tinges your cheeks. That’s not usually what people say. It’s not for everyone, you know that. It’s a lot of ink, but you dreamt for so long about getting it. Still, most people usually just make offhand comments, not exactly rude, but not exactly compliments either. Like, oh that must have hurt a lot. Or, you must have saved a lot of money, huh?

Never beautiful.

And yet Xavier traces your ink with what almost feels like admiration. It makes your heart flutter with an uncharacteristic shyness, shoulders jolting up to your neck.

That’s when you remember your injury.

Letting out a low hiss, you drop your shoulder quickly as pain sizzles down your arm. Both of you had practically forgotten about it, caught in the moment. Xavier’s brow furrows again, an apology floating past his lips as he draws his fingers away - much to your disappointment.

“It’s okay,” you breathe, offering him a weak smile, “I just pulled it a little funny. We should probably check it, though.”

“Alright, I’ll be gentle,” he murmurs as he reaches for the edge of your bandage.

“...Thanks, by the way.”

You’re not sure what exactly you’re thanking him for. Helping you or his sweet reaction to the art decorating your skin. Maybe both.

And Xavier must know. He leans down, lips ghosting over your shoulder is an adoring kiss.

“Of course, my star.”

---

Sylus

The first time Sylus sees your tattoos is, of course, on the night you attend the auction. There’s no hiding the ink covering your body when you’re wearing a dress, after all. If anything, though, you think they’ll help you fit in a little better in the N109 Zone.

And you love the reaction Sylus gives you when you step out into the foyer.

For the briefest moment, his eyes go wide. Shock, perhaps the rarest emotion you’ve never had the pleasure of seeing on him, flashes behind those carmine eyes. In an instant, it disappears though, hidden with his usual cocky expression, one of his fine brow ticking up in amusement.

“I’ll admit, sweetie,” the man hums, “You’ve surprised me.”

You flash him a cat-like grin, satisfaction burning deep in your veins, and give a little theatrical spin, “Not what you were expecting, huh?”

Hardly a single part of your body remains untouched by ink. Most of the designs are artistic. Flourishing lines twisting and curling around your muscles, strangely reminiscent of the form his evol takes. They form a network of delicate webs across your body, sometimes forming shapes, sometimes with words written along the fine linework. 

It’s hauntingly beautiful. Sylus can’t help but let his eyes slowly rove over your form, taking in every detail. They’re like a map, and his fingers are itching to explore every part of you, to see just how far the ink slips below the hem of the dress. A dress which he bought for you yet can’t be bothered to even notice now, not with such a dazzling sight set before him.

“Who knew the kitten would turn into a tigress at night,” he murmurs, voice going low and teasing as he slowly circles around you, a predatory glint in his eyes.

Your boldness wavers. 

Sylus always seems to have that effect on you. Like a lamb straying from the herd and being found by the wolf. Prey before a predator starved, maw open and hungry, as if he could consume you whole. And all you can do is hold your ground, even if your legs shake, like that little lamb’s.

“Careful, Sylus,” you whisper, trying to appear unshaken by not following him with your eyes, despite the unease you feel not knowing exactly where he is, “This tiger has claws.”

You feel more than hear his presence come up behind you. A shiver traces down your spine when his breath skates over your ear, warm and far too intentional. In the same way, his fingers trace reverently down your arm, following the path of your ink, until they can intertwine with yours and draw your hand up to his lips.

“And that’s how I prefer you.” His voice is low, a mere rumble against your skin as he kisses your knuckles. Another shudder. “After all, it would be a shame to declaw such a beautiful creature. Even if she likes to scratch.”

God, you hate him.

You hate that it takes everything in you to rip yourself away from his enticing warmth. You hate that your heart is racing against your ribs, like it’s trying desperately to escape. And you especially hate the absolutely smug grin that plays on his lips (and the fact that you want to kiss it so badly).

“You’re teasing me,” you breathe unsteadily, putting space between the two of you.

Something dark flashes in his eyes, “Whatever do you mean, sweetie? I was merely giving you a compliment.”

“Then you give weird compliments,” you fire back, arms wrapping around yourself. “It sounds more like you’re making fun of me.”

Sylus pauses. Those ruby red eyes narrow on you thoughtfully, his lips pressing into a thin line. A tick of silence. Then his expression smoothes into something almost soft, and he takes a few measured steps towards you. Long fingers graze your palm again. A question.

And you give in far too easily, not fighting as he intertwines your fingers once again. His other hand skirts along your exposed shoulder, following the lines of your tattoo as they fade at your neck. You’re frozen under the sudden tenderness of his touch, your pulse racing against his fingertips.

“My apologies, kitten. That wasn’t my intention,” he murmurs, eyes boring into yours with an unnerving genuineness, “I simply meant that your tattoos are...befitting of your character. You are truly…” He looks you over once more, his gaze leaving a tantalizing heat in its wake. That dangerous smile curls his lips again. “Captivating.”

You inhale shakily.

No one has said something like that to you before. Not that you can remember, at least. It would sound cheesy from someone else, but from Sylus? The intensity of his tone leaves you feeling as unsteady as your heart. Lightheaded.

All you can do is blink up at him, eyes wide and doe-ish. No smart retort or comeback. Your mouth, in fact, feels remarkably dry. It fills the man with a touch of pride, rendering you so speechless.

Not one to let you stay dumbfounded for too long, though, Sylus lets out a smooth chuckle and taps your chin, “Careful, sweetie. If you look at me like that, I might just think you’re falling for me.”

Which of course works. Because he knows you better than you know yourself.

“I am not!” You squawk, face going up in flames. “You just surprised me, that's all! I didn’t know you were capable of such niceties.”

Sylus grins, drawing away as you swat at his hand, “Then it seems that we’re even.”

You scowl at him. So not fair.

“Now, would you like to accompany me to this auction, sweetheart?” He offers his arm. You keep your pout up for only a few seconds before giving in and slipping your hand around his elbow begrudgingly. Sylus hums in amusement, leaning in to press a ghost of a kiss against your cheek. “Looking like this, you’ll have no trouble getting the results you’ve been searching for, tonight. You’ll be the perfect distraction, my dear.”

“Well then, let’s not keep them waiting, shall we?”

---

Not gonna lie, Sylus' was probably my favorite. In my head I was kind of picturing the tattoos that Anthony Padilla has (from smosh, yes, sue me), and I just think he would totally call you a tiger since he likes calling you kitten.

Hope y'all enjoyed!

I'm really feeling some angst next possibly...

[violettwrites]

in the arms of the broken — daryl dixon

a/n: to the dear nonnie that requested this 🫶🏻 thank u sm i absolutely adored writing this (i rly should be sleeping but i can’t so here i am) i hope you enjoy !!

if you enjoyed reading this, please support me by giving me a like, reblog, and/or comment ! don’t forget to follow me either if you want to read more of my stuff !

request: anon said — “i also like the dialogue prompt ‘i don’t know… i’ve never seen her like this’ that tugs at the heart strings”

summary: reader cannot cope with the way the world has become, during a particularly hard night for themselves, daryl dixon is the one to comfort them.

warnings: angst/sadness ,,, thats it rly

word count: 1,241

recourses: divider by @adornedwithlight

➵ tp!daryl masterlist

➵ regular masterlist

here is my ask box !

the night was quiet except for the crackle of the fire, but it felt wrong—like the world had gone still, holding its breath. you sat by the flames, knees drawn to your chest, staring blankly into the flickering light. the heat touched your skin, but it didn’t reach you, didn’t chase away the cold that had settled deep inside.

daryl watched you from a distance, leaning against a tree with his arms crossed over his chest. he’d been keeping an eye on you for days, noticing the way you’d been pulling away from everyone, isolating yourself. you’d always been strong, always held it together for the sake of the group, but something was different now. something had changed, and it scared him. you were like a shadow of yourself, your spirit drained, your eyes distant.

rick approached him, eyes flicking over to you before meeting daryl’s. “how’s she holdin’ up?”

daryl didn’t answer right away, his jaw tightening as he watched the way you sat so still, your body hunched like the weight of everything had finally become too much to carry. he shook his head, his voice quiet and rough. “i don’t know… i’ve never seen her like this.”

rick nodded, his expression grim. “she’s been through a lot. more than most of us. maybe she just needs some time.”

rick can recall the first time they found you, smack bang in the middle of atlanta, all alone. you were covered in blood and guts, and if he hadn’t actually heard how you begged for help when he saw you, your voice barely audible, he honestly would have thought you were just another walker.

“time ain’t gonna fix what’s broken,” daryl muttered under his breath, the frustration simmering beneath his skin. time wasn’t enough when you were drowning, when you couldn’t see a way out of the darkness. and he hated that he didn’t know how to pull you out.

rick gave him a look, one that said everything he didn’t need to say out loud. “you’re the one she’ll listen to, daryl. talk to her.”

daryl stood there a moment longer, watching the way you curled into yourself, like you were trying to disappear. every instinct in him told him to go to you, but he hesitated, unsure if his words would even matter. still, he couldn’t just leave you like this.

he finally pushed off the tree and walked over, his boots crunching softly against the dirt. he lowered himself to the ground beside you, sitting close enough that you could feel his presence, but not so close that he’d crowd you.

for a while, neither of you said anything. the fire crackled between you, the only sound breaking the silence of the night. daryl wasn’t sure how to start, wasn’t good with words even on the best of days. but he knew you, and he knew the way you got when things started to spiral out of control in your head.

“you don’t gotta shut us out, y’know,” he finally said, his voice gruff but soft. “we’re all here for ya.”

you didn’t respond at first, your eyes still fixed on the flames like they held some kind of answer you were searching for. after a long moment, you sighed, your voice barely a whisper. “i’m tired, daryl.”

those words hit him like a punch to the gut. he’d seen people break before, seen the way this world could wear someone down until there was nothing left. but hearing you say it, seeing you like this—it scared him more than he wanted to admit.

“i know,” he said quietly. “we all are. but we’re still fightin’. you’re still fightin’.”

you shook your head, your voice trembling as you spoke. “i don’t know if i can anymore. every day feels like it’s getting harder. like… like i’m losing pieces of myself.”

daryl’s chest tightened. he’d always admired your strength, the way you kept going no matter how hard things got. but now, hearing you say you were falling apart—it made him realize just how much he hadn’t noticed.

“you ain’t losin’ yourself,” he said, his voice firm but gentle. “you’re still here. we’re still here.”

you swallowed hard, tears brimming in your eyes. “i feel like i’m drowning. like no matter what i do, it’s never enough. i can’t save everyone, daryl.”

that was it, wasn’t it? the burden you carried, the weight of trying to protect everyone, to hold the group together when everything was falling apart. it was breaking you.

daryl shifted closer, his hand reaching out to rest on your arm, hesitant at first, but firm once it was there. “you don’t gotta save everyone. that ain’t on you.”

your voice cracked as you spoke, the tears spilling over now. “but if i don’t… who will?”

daryl’s heart clenched at the raw pain in your voice. he wished he had the right words, wished he could take that weight off your shoulders. but he knew he couldn’t fix everything. what he could do, though, was remind you that you weren’t alone.

“you don’t have to,” he said, his thumb gently brushing your arm in a way that was more comforting than he realized. “we’re all in this together. you ain’t gotta carry the world by yourself.”

you turned to look at him, and the vulnerability in your eyes nearly broke him. he wasn’t used to seeing you like this, so lost and fragile. he hated it. he hated that you felt like you had to carry the world alone, that you felt like you were drowning.

“i don’t know how to stop feeling like this,” you whispered, your voice shaking. “everything feels so heavy.”

daryl swallowed hard, his own heart aching at how much pain you were in. he didn’t know how to take that pain away, but he could be there for you. he could be the one thing you could hold on to when everything else felt like it was slipping away.

“you ain’t alone,” he said, his voice low but steady. “you got me. no matter what, you got me.”

you looked at him then, really looked at him, and for the first time in days, you felt like you could breathe just a little easier. his words were simple, but they grounded you. daryl had always been your anchor, and in this moment, you needed him more than ever.

without thinking, you leaned into him, your forehead resting against his shoulder as the tears came harder, your body shaking with the force of them. daryl didn’t hesitate. he wrapped his arm around you, pulling you closer, his hand rubbing slow circles on your back.

“let it out,” he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper. “it’s okay. i got ya.”

and for the first time in a long time, you let yourself fall apart. you let the tears come, let the pain you’d been holding in for so long spill out. daryl didn’t say anything more, didn’t need to. he just held you, his presence steady and unwavering, letting you know without words that you didn’t have to carry this burden alone.

the fire crackled softly beside you, but the world felt a little less cold with daryl holding you. you weren’t okay. you weren’t sure when—or if—you’d ever be okay again. but for now, in his arms, you felt like you didn’t have to be.

and maybe that was enough.

[ryuichirou]

RE: Ortho (+Shroudcest) post replies

Phew, alright, I think I didn’t skip anyone. If I did, I’m sorry, I’ll reply to you next time then!

Thank you so much for your wonderful messages of support and for your takes. I really appreciate it! I say it all the time but it saying it again feels appropriate: we had no idea we would ever see so many people who share our point of view despite not shipping Ortho with Idia or any other character. The fact that we can have this conversation really makes me happy.

You are welcome to share more of your thoughts if you want, but unfortunately I might not be able to reply to everyone. I will do my best though.

All of the asks in this blog are related to this post.

Anonymous asked:

Different anon, I think Ortho is in this nebulous situation like superboy in young justice who is physically 16 years old but chronologically 16 weeks old. I genuinely hate the uwu babying of characters. The dwarfs are all second years(so theoretically 17 at the youngest) but no one makes anything with them. Heck the characters I see get lewded the most are the octo trio who are the same age.

Heck, even Grim gets the baby mascot treatment by fans when he's also lumpedwiththefirst years. Like yes, he's a whiny brat but he's also grown up all alone as far as he can remember. I can't help but compare him to Puppycat who acts similarly and is a grown ass man.

Yeah, this probably plays a role too! Ironically, we were just having this conversation about Stitch the other day lol Being new to the world you exist in (and to existing in general) and being a baby aren’t necessarily the same thing.

And even in that case Ortho doesn’t fully fit into the trope because he was created quite a while ago and is already pretty well adjusted. But since he is still learning and doesn’t always understand people + doesn’t always get things like sarcasm, people consider it to be a proof that he is a toddler lol Who am I kidding, their reasoning doesn’t even go that far. They say “he died when he was a baby therefore he is a baby forever” and call it a day.

I feel bad for people who love Grim, I haven’t even thought about it… The Puppycat comparison is so spot-on lol

Grim is inexperienced and doesn’t know much about the world, but yes, he is one of the freshmen + just as he at times acts like a whiny brat, there are also times when he tells Ace that he should be more considerate of Deuce’s feelings, like wtf was that? That was Grim. Because Grim also isn’t a baby, he is a furry gremlin…

Anonymous asked:

As one of the most avid Ortho stans, it really is a pet peeve that people act like he's a little kid

You're so right that it's people that want to write him like Idia's little convenient plot device

I do want to note that it's also sometimes just the infantilization of an autistic coded character

God forbid he be somewhat optimistic, this must mean he's just an innocent baby /s

One small thing that gets me: Ortho can and has made his own gears!! Idia doesn't need to and maybe this is inspired by a post I saw that used the fact that Idia has made his stuff to take away Ortho's agency in what is supposed to be him having a tattoo analog. Not having a character be the architect of their own body mod equivalent is wild and I just.

He's a silly little guy, but he's not a fucking baby!

Indeed, Anon. I feel like people either completely ignore Ortho or see him as Idia’s appendix. I absolutely love them together, and of course I am biased towards scenarios that focus on their deep codependence, but I also really love how they get to have their own adventures, their own relationship, their own experiences separate from each other. Because they are wow, different characters, and Ortho has his own agency. He had it even before ch6, but after that he fully and officially became his own person. Being with Idia is his choice, not his only option. And just like you mentioned, he makes his own gears pretty much all the time now… even though I don’t agree that Idia making his gears has anything to do with Ortho’s agency.

I don’t even think Ortho is that optimistic. He is a little sunshine, but not even close to people like Kalim for example. Ortho even has his own cynical moments and douchy moments that people also tend to ignore. But even if he was 100% optimistic and naïve, it still would not be a valid reason to infantilise him. And you are absolutely right, people do that a lot. With Kalim too, actually, now that I think about it.

Anonymous asked:

Aaaaah, Ryuichi, after reading your post (rant) about Ortho, made me very happy! I'm glad there's someone else who shares the same opinion. The number of fans who infantilizes Ortho is beyond me. I absolutely hate the argument Ortho's mentally "8 years old" it's like they completely forget his storyline.

I'm guessing that the people who genuinely believe the theory that he's "8 years old" are younger fans with no media literacy so no hate towards them but it's frustrating when fans pretend it's Canon when it's not.

Not only that but it’s so sad to see how he's also so mischaracterized by the fandom. He's always seen just as Idia's little brother but never himself despite the fact that Ortho's life doesn't revolve around Idia. He has his own interest and hobbies different from Idia AND he is NOT innocent! Fans tend to forget this is a game about a school full of villains and that includes Ortho too! If I remember correctly Ortho has multiple times tried to blow up the school with his laser! He's violent! He's not a kid.

Unfortunately, I've seen this kind of stuff happening across all fandoms this isn't exclusive to Twisted wonderland. Heck a few months ago I've seen fans in the black butler genuinely believe that Ciel's in fact 9 years old instead of 13 year old!? And then they call us weird? The SebaCiel shippers? Like why do YOU want him to be younger?? I'm getting too old for this.

Thank you so much, Anon! I am happy you also agree.

I don’t hate younger fans, and I know that some people might be genuinely confused; but I also believe that there are a lot of people that simply do not care about Ortho’s actual story and any arguments one could make about this case. The actual issue isn’t Ortho being a certain age, it’s a pretext, an excuse, an invitation to harass. If Ortho didn’t exist, they would still do it with other characters, and even if all the characters were adults, they would still find a reason to do so, like, for example, their appearance. There is no winning in this game, this is why factual arguments won’t work even if Ortho Shroud himself looks in the camera and says “hi, I don’t care if people ship me with my niisan, I am also in fact not 8 years old”.

I am also very glad you mentioned Ortho being his own person! I mentioned it in a previous reply, so I won’t talk about it, but yes, you are absolutely right. Ortho is a menace, and all of his disappointed “come ooon, niisan, don’t do that” moments come from his desire for Idia to have more friends, not because he genuinely cares for other people. He clearly doesn’t – hence his multiple attempts to blow up the school lol

I love it when characters just keep getting younger with every single wave of this shitstorm. Didn’t you know he is 13? How dare you post something like that about a 9 years old! He is a toddler who is only 3 months old! That’s one powerful fountain of youth right there. Antis in Kuroshitsuji fandom do that a lot, just as antis in TWST fandom.

Anonymous asked:

I really feel bad for people who have Ortho as their oshi. It's not like fans of other characters don't get shit on too, apparently pretty much everyone is an immoral heathen these days, but I feel like Ortho gets often excluded in fan content, especially when it features any mature theme.

Also, if you a problem with people liking Ortho in the same way as they do with the rest of the guys, you should take your issues to the creators, since that was definitely their intention when they put him in the pretty boy gacha. Or maybe just play another game.

Anyway Ryu and Katsu, keep doing your thing, cause you guys are awesome!

What I love about it is that Ortho himself would be so pissed if he learned that all the other guys get to do fun mature stuff and he doesn’t lol That’s so not fair, he’s charging his lasers as we speak!

Also yes, it was absolutely the creators’ intention. He is supposed to look like that, just like Lilia is supposed to look like that – both caused confusion in the game story with how young they look, and yet both are a big part of the cast (+ As we know, even Idia was supposed to be younger looking…). Ortho has one of the biggest amounts of cards, he is clearly a popular character, not just a lovely addition or a mascot. 

Thank you so much for your support, Anon <3 It means a lot. This shit might be upsetting, but it will never stop us from creating.

Anonymous asked:

While I am not an Ortho/Idia shipper, I do like your art pieces because your art style is straight-up gorgeous. So when I do see your Shroudcest art Im like: not my cup of tea but I respect the time and effort made into this. (And here is my rant siding with you bc they are fictional characters)

The babyfication of Ortho is something I do not understand. As much as Idia made RoBro in trauma, rn I doubt he wants RoBro to remain stagnant in mind and hardware. With Ortho's ability to learn, he is practically a teenager like the rest. He displays more emotional maturity than most ppl despite his killer laser beam. Kindness, hope, and optimism are traits not limited to children. Shortness is also not limited to children. If we treat other characters by traits often shared by children, then Neige's fellow dwarf classmates are also children. What they don't count bc they are not human? Ortho is not human either. Similarly, Kalim and Silver display positive internal traits of kindness, hope, and optimism. Shortness? Well, we got Grandpa Lilia and the Napoleon complex twins Riddle and Epel. They are all teenagers (minus Lilia) and no one is babying them.

...And are we ignoring all the shit he has seen on the internet. The amount of porn (from adult sites and even the soft-core types you can even find by watching some twitch/yt streamers) that can be seen. Videos of violence, crimes, and ppl doing their best to win the Darwainism Award. Ortho could access and go through like 5 terebytes by the time I reach page two of Google.

As for the Shroudcest, they are fictional characters! You can go straight to phub and have incest type (the sheer amount of the step family porn troupe) porn being acted out by actual breathing people. Do you want to metaphorically die on this hill of ppl shipping fictional 2D characters? Are we just going to ignore you targeting this harmless ship? At least go for a larger target like Game of Thrones or House of Dragons. So much incest in those media that it has it's own fan wiki page, but you don't see ppl go for George R. R. Martin's throat for writing about characters willing or unknowingly committing incest.

It is like people reading/watching media of horror movie killers. It's something you can enjoy or have a preference for because you, as a sane person, will not become a serial killer. AND, as a productive member of society, you condemn actual, real-life serial killers. You read horror stories or watch scary movies for entertainment value not for a guide to be one. Similar logic to furries. Furries consider anthropomorphic creatures as hot, but those same furries are against beastilaity.

TL;DR: While I am not personally a fan of incest or shota type of media, I do not mind they exist (or go after creators who use FICTIONALLY characters to enhance their form of FICTIONAL media), bc they are FICTIONAL CHARACTERS from a FICTIONAL MEDIA. Stop with the performative activism. Use that effort and go after people who do it for real in real life. If you prevent/stop an actual crime from happening, I will applaud and thank you! AND I DOUBT I WILL BE THE ONLY ONE.

Thank you so much, Anon! I am happy that you like my stuff despite not shipping some of our ships. I am very grateful for the respect, and also for your message! I really like your points and I’ll go through them briefly.

The entire part about all those traits not being exclusive to children + about other characters having those traits but still not being babied – YES, thank you so much for that. Like I already mentioned, the game clearly plays with those tropes, and even though the characters are young-looking, they are still of high school age (other than Lilia). Ortho is weird, Ortho is different from some of the other boys, but all of them are weird in their own way, Ortho is just a robot. If we can make “not a human” excuse for the dwarves, why can’t we look at Ortho that way? And yes, Ortho absolutely knows stuff a kid wouldn’t be able to digest lol All of his difficulties come from him being an AI – he doesn’t always get sarcasm, he doesn’t fully understand why people do certain things and doesn’t understand some limitations of human’s body and mind; none of it is tied to him being childish or too innocent.

Incest in media is very popular indeed, and it’s SUPER popular in porn! You are right. If any kind of media ends up “normalising” this kind of relationship, it definitely won’t be shippers of incest. But also that won’t happen because wow, it doesn’t work that way. People love to say that fiction affects reality, and while in a way it does, it’s never a “everyone is going to start shooting people because the videogames brainwashed them” type of deal, and this is exactly what they’re doing with their arguments. It’s fear-mongering, moralism and ignoring the fact that people do in fact know how to separate fiction from reality. And the key to making sure no one is going to jump out the window because their favourite character did so isn’t in censorship, but in people learning this difference and always keeping in it mind. Ironically, that would mean that people who harass others over cartoons can’t make this separation very well because of their lack of critical consumption of media; but then again, they can’t even see (and don’t care, which makes it worse and my point stronger) how their own reckless actions seriously affect real people in real life, and I think this is a more important issue to resolve lol

Unfortunately, people who prefer performative activism very rarely end up becoming real activists, but I do hope that they will at least find some other hobby, something that doesn’t cause so much harm to both innocent people and the cause they claim to be fighting for.

I got a bit carried away there, but yeah, I totally agree with your point, and once again grateful for your understanding. There will always be media that makes you uncomfortable – and that’s the beauty of it. Creativity is a boundless ocean and no amount of bricks can contain it.

Anonymous asked:

I was just scrolling through and saw your explanation of ortho and shroudcest the other day. As tiring as I’m sure it is, it always gives me hope to see people who remember what shipping is really about. I mean problematic content has existed all through human mythos and history, and society still survives! According to the studies the “art morality” argument is roughly the same as “but da violent games!!” Argument, or metal music, or clothes, or any other form of media deemed ‘new’ or ‘too different’.

Anyway, I don’t ship cest stuff myself but your art is lovely and it’s become one of the things I can view without feeling uncomfy despite how my head usually responds to such content (woohoo free therapy??? /j)

I ship ortho with an OC who’s also 16. Said oc’s mother said she would never treat her child differently for who they choose to love, and while she definitely wasn’t expecting a robot, she’s not going back on her word.

Thank you so much, Anon!! YES, this is exactly what shipping is all about! It feels like “umm but they’re not even canon” type of people are suddenly the majority in fandom spaces ahhh lol

As long as art exists, there will always be people who are against it, especially if it’s something niche, and despite how popular fandoms are, all of the fandom activity is a niche, ESPECIALLY shipping, ESPECIALLY this kind of shipping. So unfortunately it’s unavoidable, but it’s so useless and annoying!

I am very happy that you like our stuff. Thank you for enjoying it. Your OC’s mother is amazing and very supportive lol I am sure she and Ortho will get along swimmingly.

[inkly-heart]

Do you have a group discord server? If others want to chill and interact with you. Just wondering

That aside just hoping you’re doing okay Blastic. Still, if you’re not your gotta a lot people care about you.

I look forward to seeing how the rest of the game goofs.

—goofball anon

I don't and sadly I don't think I will make one. It would be fun to interact with people who enjoys my work and wants to chat with me but I just feel it would be too much work for me to handle a discord server. So at least for now I'm not planning to make one.

[prince-liest]

oh my god. your wording in one of ur latest anon answers. does…. is val the only one who does the dumping? does vox never dump val??? i always like… idk i assumed that they both broke it off in a never ending downward spiral, mutually. but oh my GOD? you’re saying val is the only one doing the breaking up? i….. this is shifting my entire perspective on vox. HOLD ON. HOLD ON. not to beat a dead dove here (that was a brilliant pun yes i’m stealing it), but……… this is sliding right into my vault where i keep my Vox and Domestic Violence Thoughts. he just seems so…. helpless. he’s helpless all the time and in complete denial about it. at first it was clear he’s pretty helpless around alastor -in both canon and your fic. alastor is stronger, and also, in the beginning had the Extreme emotional upper hand. i knew this, yet, like in canon, i assumed more or less alastor was the chink in his armor. vox DOES run the vee’s competently, he handles val, and he’s arguably the fourth most powerful sinner in hell (behind zestial, carmilla, and alastor). those 3 things are true, AND YET. let’s look behind the wizards curtain. how does vox live his Personal life. not his job or position of power. how does his close relationships define him. let’s see now. the initial intense obsession with alastor, which had ONLY left him rejected and humiliated. helpless. and now val. i Assume vox enacts some physical violence on val, too, but something in his wording in the last installment. vox made the point to compare alastors straight up murder attempts to how val acts. i do not think vox does that with val, at least not in a trivial and common manner (he has said the vee’s have all killed e/o before). and when i said “sure he can act disgruntled and upset in the moment” in another ask, i MEANT that vox could break up with val for a couple days before crawling right back like nothing happened. but NO. NOT EVEN THAT. vox endures, and he ultimately does Nothing. NOTHING. and not even that, he is subjected to val breaking it off in a cyclic manner, for superficial or nonexistent issues. and then after a week val will call and vox will come crawling back like nothing happened, and the timer for 4 months begins again. through everything, EVERYTHING, vox really just seems… passive in the grand scheme of things. it’s paradoxical, because he’s also outrageously ambitious. i think that’s one of his core character traits, a constant greed and pursuit of it. that’s unequivocally true about him. but then we look at his love life, and what do we see? he lets the two men he loves basically do whatever they want with him. and he does it because he loves them, as well as being unable to admit he’s suffering. i will say, from now on it’s clear that his relationship with alastor is veering off this direction, but i want to STRESS that it was actually ALASTOR that cemented that. vox, in a spurt of emotion, let it slip out his history of domestic violence. then, promptly brushed it off to appease alastor. he set the terms of the deal, but he did it as a silly pinky promise. he, again, never allows himself to take it SERIOUSLY. because IF HE DOES!!!! then he needs to set boundaries AND ABIDE BY THEM!!!!!!!! AND WHAT THEN. WHAT THEN. THEN THE NEXT TIME VAL OR ALASTOR CROSS A LINE, HE NEEDS TO END IT. LEAVE. DO ANYTHING. AND HE IS NEVER GONNA DO THAT!!!!!!!! and here’s the real fucking kicker…… he expects them to. to keep hurting him. that’s the root of it. it’s not a real boundary, because it’s an inevitability. valentino and alastor will always want to hurt him, so a relationship without that violence is nonexistent. (that’s what he believes btw. hopefully not the truth). and so, vox has made his choice. he’s a businessman, and he has weighed the pros and cons. the violence and crossed boundaries he faces is outweighed by his love for them, and ultimately, that means they can do whatever they want to him. he is helpless.

(this was an entire rant, dear god. and of course the disclaimer that this is all my personal delusions, and not necessarily your take on vox in your series. i swear, i never know how these asks get so long. i promise i start of with a simple idea, then it all implodes into an essay. so sorry. love you.) -🌓

I have good news and bad news for you, anon!

The bad news is that I have misled you slightly: My actual full perspective of the Valentino and Vox on-and-off dating situation is that Vox dumps Valentino when he feels a sufficiently angry flavor of upset that Valentino refuses to listen to him on some things (usually not, actually, the violence, unless Val breaks something for Vox to be angry about); and Valentino dumps Vox when he wants Vox to annoyedly pretend not to moon after him for a week. In both situations, sometimes Vox ends up giving up the ghost and functionally crawling his way back to Val, but more commonly Valentino decides that he's had enough and rather handily seduces Vox into a round of what Vox promises himself is hate sex and not makeup sex but is inevitably always very sappy makeup sex with a side of lovebombing.

This is. Arguably not that different of a flavor from what you're describing, haha, especially since a lot of Vox managing to be the one to break things off at any given point in time hinges on him being able to frame his rationale as "anger" rather than "upset," the latter of which just gets brushed under the carpet of Emotions That Are Not Taken Seriously. He can act on a great many things if he justifies them as something he is right to be objective and angry over, including outright killing Valentino at least once at some point in the past, but anything that makes him feel vulnerable or, ah, let's deliberately and pointedly use the word hysterical, is a pre-existing internal struggle that Valentino knows how to manipulate to his advantage.

The good news is that this lovely analysis inspired me to almost completely rewrite a section of the next 666 fic that I'd been dissatisfied with. I initially wrote Vox as annoyed; what he needed to be was Very Stressed And Upset in a way that distinctly refused to dare stray into anger because the fundamental concern was about what Alastor wanted - just as you described, Vox fumbling his own distress with his learned helplessness when it comes to intimate relationships. Anyway, now I'm WAY happier with it! So thank you very much for that!

[talentlesshuman]

Hi, sorry if this ask is misguided, but I was seeing your art twice on my feed and realized @ communist-hatsunemiku had reposted your art from Twitter and didn't see any indication that you had given permission. I would want to know if it was my art, so I apologize again if it's nbd 👋

Nope! I didn't give permission. I'll go ahead and start reporting the post, if anyone else wants to join me i greatly appreciate it :)

Edit: I've decided to send them messages before i send the copyright infringement report (i'd like to avoid putting my irl name and address out there whenever possible, since filing the report might have the work and my identity stored in a 3rd party website). under the cut is screenshots of my messages to them

[stormyoceans]

https://x.com/Itsjuzm3/status/1805545322732527672

Jimmy continues to help you with the 100 plots post.

Jimmy is Kevin Costner. Sea is Whitney Houston. Fck I'd watch this!

NGL IF I WERE DELUSIONAL AND PRONE TO CLOWN BEHAVIOR I'D SAY THEIR ANSWERS KINDA FIT THE INTHUTHAPFA NOVEL WHICH MEANS THEY'RE CLEARLY GIVING US AN HINT FOR WHAT THEIR NEXT SERIES IS GOING TO BE BUT THANKFULLY FOR EVERYONE INVOLVED IM COMPLETELY NORMAL AND HINGED AND SANE AND FINE AND NORMAL

but leaving that aside. god i would LOVE a bodyguard/celebrity series for jimmysea. i feel like we're getting a lot of BLs with one half of the pairing being famous (actor, idol), but all the bodyguards seem to be reserved for mafia bosses and rich people with wealth of dubious origin. which is fine!!!! however with GMMTV trying to do some kind of commentary on the idol industry (first with only boo and soon with thamepo) i think it would be very interesting to approach it on this side as well, especially since stalkers and fans getting a little bit too up close and personal with actors while they walk around the building is too much of a common issue

and jimmysea would fit SO WELL as the stoic bodyguard with a heart of gold who gets hired to protect the spoiled stubborn brat of a celebrity who loves his fans and doesn’t want to alter his lifestyle and stop seeing them just for a few bad ones, even after he starts getting death threats!!!!!!! and at first they can’t really stand each other because sea finds jimmy too suffocating and paranoid while jimmy is just trying to make sure this kid gets alive to the end of the day which is proving harder and harder considering that sea won’t listen to him. but then sea gets harrassed by some ‘fans’ who start to get a little violent or something like that and jimmy is able to bring him to safety but gets hurt in the process and it’s just a scratch in the end but that’s the thing that finally brings them closer. and eventually they start developing feelings for each other and they’re both aware of it because there is just SO. MUCH. TENSION. every time they interact however jimmy keeps taking a step back when it seems like they might finally kiss, so sea starts flirting with other people to provoke jimmy or something like that

AND IDK WHAT WOULD HAPPEN NEXT BUT I KNOW THAT UNLIKE THE MOVIE THEY WOULD END UP TOGETHER AND LIVE HAPPILY EVER AFTER BECAUSE I SAY SO @ GMMTV PLEASE LISTEN TO US!!!!!!!!!

[coffeeshib]

Hi! I’ve recently visited your page again, after a longer tumblr break and saw your posts about people’s comments on your fics. It made me both sad and angry. Sad because they’ve managed to take away your joy for writing Supercorp and angry that people feel like they can type out any hurtful thought that goes through their head, for a thing that is absolutely free and made with so much passion and care. 😒🤬

For what it’s worth, I always loved the way you write both of them. AND the fact that you don’t ignore Kara’s trauma and struggles. “i’m spilling all my words (but you keep 'em to yourself)” will forever be one of my favorites. Thank you for the hours of joy and fun you have given us! I hope you know that for every entitled commenter there are ten times more people who love your works! 🫵🏻🤘🏻

ahh thank you so much, i appreciate this. i have to say, sc still has me by the neck, i do plan to finish that fic & maybe write some more but it won't be anytime soon. i had hoped that the fandom would calm down with the kara hate after the show ended but i was wrong, it still hasn't changed.

when you've been writing for sc for so long, the frustration builds up, & there have been many times where i felt like i needed to (& did) restrict myself when writing them. it stops being enjoyable when people are constantly calling kara 'stupid' & insult her in many different ways for not being the happy sunshine kara danvers who takes care of lena all the time.

personally i love reading & writing the reverse situation (lena who's being the patient loving one & also the shoulder for kara to lean on) because the show didn't give us enough of that. unfortunately, people don't respond well whenever kara is struggling with her issues & lena isn't the one who's being comforted.

i write what i like & that's what i'm always going to do, but this build up of frustration over the past years & always anticipating kara hate every fic/chapter killed the joy a lot.

i've seen some authors speak about this too & it's genuinely sad to see! people can like & dislike whatever but it's important to note that there are readers out there who don't realize that their personal feelings against kara also affect authors & their love for writing supercorp

[allylikethecat]

"my poor baby, i'm so sorry." this has potential

Hello dearest anon! Last week I said that I would write any new prompt I got first in exchange for feedback on the new All the King's Horses chapter. I have no idea if you sending me this prompt and then THREE whole super lovely comments appearing on that fic are related BUT in case they are, I have done my very best to fill this super fun prompt from the Reactions to making someone cry prompt list! If anyone else wants to send any fun prompts from that list, it can be found HERE.

ALSO I know I haven't filled any of these in a while but I promise I will / am going to get through all of the ones in my inbox eventually! I am a little out of practice so I'm not sure if this is my best work... BUT I tried and also I finished it so I'm counting that as a win! Thank you for taking the time to send it! I hope you enjoy it and are having a lovely Thursday and a great rest of your week!

❤️Ally

"my poor baby, i'm so sorry."

WARNINGS: mentions of past drug abuse, broken bones

Matty managed to hold it together until he was backstage. Sharp, shooting, stabbing pain moving up his ankle with each labored breath. He didn’t dare put weight on it, trying to breathe slowly, even as his lungs screamed desperately for more oxygen, having just completed a two hour show. He felt dizzy and untethered, his head fuzzy with pain as he stumbled over to one of the black gear trunks, “The 1975” spray painted in white stenciled letters on the side. He dropped down heavily onto the trunk, banging his ankle on the side as he did so, gasping in shock. He squeezed his eyes shut. He wasn’t going to cry, he refused to cry. He was alright, he tried to tell himself, cautiously trying to put some of his weight on his foot before recoiling as the burning pain intensified. He wasn’t alright. 

He’s not sure how long he sat there, his head bowed in a silent prayer to the various Gods he didn’t believe in, his curls falling limp and greasy with sweat over his face, begging for the strength to just get up. The rest of the crew were moving around him, packing up the gear and the stage. He’s not sure where the guys went, everyone having their own post show protocol, their own method for dealing with the come down from the rush of another sold out show well done. Matty himself used to get so high he didn’t exist anymore, at least not on the corporeal plane. He squeezed his eyes shut tighter. He didn’t do that anymore. (He wondered if it would numb the pain in his ankle.)  

“Are you just staying here then?” George asked, a bite to his tone, traces of the fight, the argument they had been having before they had put it aside to take the stage present in his voice. Matty opened his eyes, blinking wetly and looking up at George who seemed to loom over him, his arms crossed over his chest, his body language closed off. He had showered, his hair damp, a wet patch showing on the gray fabric of his tee shirt, clinging to skin that hadn’t been fully dried. Matty was still in his stage clothes, the damp fabric clinging to his dried sweat coated skin giving him a chill. 

He shrugged, he didn’t want to fight with George anymore, even though he was the one that had initiated it that afternoon. Throwing out snide, biting comments, looking for George’s soft underbelly, trying to hit where he knew it would hurt the most, purely so that he could feel something. George had resisted at first, meeting Matty with love and care and sympathy until he eventually, as always, pushed too far and George had snapped. Matty had relished in it before, his blood pumping as he smiled cruelly, getting up in George’s face as George yelled back, giving him everything that he wanted and didn’t know how to ask for. 

Matty swallowed hard, his ankle hurt, he was pretty sure it was broken, and he didn’t want to fight anymore. 

“Not going to say anything?” George asked, his spark still burning, still pushing, looking for the same kind of weakness Matty had exploited earlier. 

Matty just shrugged again, curling in on himself. He didn’t want to fight. He wanted to apologize, he wanted to tell George he was sorry he had started a fight, that he was wrong and hadn’t meant it. He wanted to tell him he loved him, and he was hurting and that he needed him. But if he opened his mouth he was pretty sure that he was going to start crying. He was emotionally and physically worn out. He was scared and he was in pain, he just wanted George to hold him and tell him it was all going to be alright. They were supposed to be packing up and headed to their next tour stop within the hour, traveling overnight to get to the next city. There were twenty seven shows left on this leg of the tour. Matty couldn’t afford to have broken his ankle. 

“Matthew,” said George, his voice so cold, and Matty, already feeling so worn thin, couldn't help it. He opened his mouth to answer, to tell him to fuck off, to apologize, to say absolutely anything, and instead he ended up taking a shaky breath and instantly burst into tears. 

George recoiled, clearly surprised, clearly having thought that Matty was being difficult for the sake of being difficult, not that there was actually something wrong.

“Matty?” he asked cautiously, carefully, glancing around the backstage area as if he would find the cause of Matty’s tears mingling with the trunks and extension cords. “Matty love what’s wrong?” 

“I’m sorry,” Matty said with a hiccup, “I’m sorry I was being a dickhead earlier, and I’m sorry I just fucked up the tour, and I’m just I’m sorry.”

“Fucked up the tour? What are you talking about?” George asked, sitting down carefully next to Matty, gauging his reaction before cautiously wrapping an arm around his trembling shoulders. “And it’s alright, couples fight,” said George softly, pressing a kiss to the side of Matty’s head, all of the fight drained out of him. “I know we’ll get past it.”

“I think I broke my ankle,” said Matty with a sniffle, “I rolled it during the last song and I could feel something pop.” He took a shaky breath, “it really hurts.” 

George stood up, “let me take a look,” he said, moving to kneel down in front of Matty. He made the assumption that it was the left ankle bothering Matty by the cautious way he was holding his leg and reached forward to steady his foot so that he could unlace his converse sneaker. Matty, never one to handle pain well, gasped in surprise and kicked out, hitting George in the chin and causing another pulse of pain to move up his leg. 

George swore, stumbling back as he held onto his face. 

“Fuck,” said Matty with a hiccup, “fuck I’m sorry.” 

“It’s okay,” said George carefully, moving his jaw back and forth, confirming that everything was aligned correctly. He was even more careful this time, his fingers barely ghosting over Matty’s ankle as he unlaced the sneaker, then rolled up his pant leg and carefully removed his sock. He sucked in a breath, not even making a comment about how sweaty Matty had gotten, as he took in how swollen the joint was, and the purple hue that the limb had taken on. 

Matty couldn't bring himself to look at it. “How bad is it?” he asked wetly. If it looked even half as bad as it felt, he knew it wasn’t going to be good. 

“My poor baby,” said George softly, “I’m so sorry.” He paused, “I think you’re right, I think it is broken.” 

Matty just hiccuped wetly in response. 

[tweeterwilbury]

65 year old man who just retired after 40 long years: I think I'll start a blog about my favorite musicians :)

You, reblogging:

FAGGOT YAOI‼️

(I say this in total support of your actions)

LITERALLY IM SO SCARED OF THE POSSIBILITY OF REBLOGGING SOMEONE WHO IS JUST LIKE. OLD GUY BLOGGING ABOUT THEIR FAVORITE BAND. AND THEN I WILL SAY SOMETHING LIKE THAT. Sorry 65yo man who just retired after 40 years i didnt mean to call bob dylan a faggot in your notes.... i swear to god im not here only for the yaoi but i would explode if i tried to be serious

[sexynetra]

i hope it isn't rude to ask (i just really love your work) but would we be getting a rawnsyf chapter 8

Not rude at all!! I am slowly plugging away at chapter 8 it will absolutely be coming I refuse to abandon a work fully 😂

[malleleothreesome]

YOUR MALLEUS POST IS JUST!!!!! AGDKFFLSVFL!!!! WHO KNOWS HOW MANY TIMES I RE-READ THAT THING BUT IT WAS WORTH THE WAIT!!!! 😫😭👌🖤💚

I'm so late to this but thank you so much Knight!! 🖤💚🖤💚 I'm so happy you enjoyed Blindfolded Malleus... I was so excited for you to read it, and I'm very happy it lived up to the hype and anticipation!!! Truly, I am so honored and grateful that you would re-read something so long 🥹 it amazes me how supportive you are!! I hope I can continue to write things that you enjoy! One day in the [regretfully] far future I swear to you that I will put out an Idia fic just for you hehehe. I'm so overwhelmed by the amount of things I am excited to write, but I guess that is a wonderful problem to have! I only wish I had more time in the day to write, but alas, such is life. Why the fUCk am I writing so formal right now daiohssadoi;hdSAO not me saying BUT ALAS. SUCH IS LIFE????? It is so.

I'm actually taking a TWELVE DAY vacation from work starting on the 22nd so I might actually do a little request event where people can send me like kink prompts or something. I think that'll be fun!

Okay and FINE I'll do some fluff prompts too for the fluff people but please don't judge my fluff too harshly, I'm still learning!!! For some reason smut just comes naturally dhaDSAHIDDASijdsan I'll start gathering some prompts and we will do a little ask game or something.

📣 By the way FELLOW HONEST THIGH RIDING ANON if you SEE this first of all, ONCE AGAIN: I wish to express my undying devotion to you and your exceptional thought process. I am positively frothing at the mouth over your request and I am PLEASED TO ANNOUNCE I am finally making good progress and it WILL be out soon. We WILL make him cum in his pants. We WILL make him cry, whimper, and moan.

[dracomort]

Hello! I noticed you recently used the radfem tag on a post. Being a HP author, are you aware of the message this sends considering the source content for this fandom?

I debated whether or not to answer this, as I am well aware of the hornet's nest I'm kicking—particularly on this site. However, I believe the contemporary rhetoric that assumes one's support of 'x' means they must believe 'y' to be reductive, dishonest, and particularly troubling when it comes to silencing the voices of women. It's the very same false equivalence that has led large swathes of the population into claiming that support of Palestine = antisemitism (including, ironically, JK Rowling).

I consider myself a radical feminist and I won't censor that simply because I also happen to like a magical school kid's book series written by a conservative moron. Does this mean I agree with everything every single radical feminist has ever said? No. But I believe that sex-based oppression is alive and well and can be seen most prominently in law-enforcement response to rape and domestic violence, abortion rights in many countries, access to maternity leave, research into women's health, household labour distribution and the commercial objectification of women (be that advertising or pornography).

Does this mean I think sex-based oppression is the only form of oppression? No. Does this mean I associate myself with TERFs? No. Was the radical feminist movement without flaws? Also no. Just as the socialist movement did not adequately address the disadvantages women faced in the 60s and 70s, the second-wave feminist movement failed to address the unique struggles of non-white women and queer women. There is always room to grow from the starting point of a movement created ~60 years ago. Intersectionality is critical. But we have not progressed as far as most would like to pretend (looking at you, America), and the way that women hasten to distance themselves from the 'harsh' type of feminism is partially at fault for this, in my opinion.

Without radical feminism, we would not have had the Women's Liberation Movement. Without radical feminism, we would not have abortion rights, access to credit, equal pay protections, etc. The demonisation of a branch of feminism that was so critical in fighting for the rights that modern women enjoy today is harmful and something I am very suspicious of. I mean, we're at a point where I can't even use the tag radfem without having people in my asks sending messages like this? Really? If there is something that I have reblogged or posted that you disagree with, then I am always open to a good-faith discussion, but I don't respect this style of internet discourse that strikes you down as guilty by association.

(Also, since I know that's what you're getting at — my opinion on TERFs is that they've done a great disservice to radical feminism and have gotten themselves worked up about something that is a non-issue outside of their corner of the internet. My question when people come to me IRL with anti-trans rhetoric is always, "have you ever actually met a trans person?" and the answer is always no...)

While I don't agree with everything said in it, this is an interesting article from Dr Charlotte Proudman which I recommend you read: Being a radical feminist means being a trans ally at the same time.

[milkweedman]

I am sorry you've been harrassed by terfs, but the way you are currently trying to weed them out seems a bit misguided. As in, the vast majority of terfs are in fact ok with big hairy CIS men. The so-called men they are actively hating are trans women/transfem people. So by acting like you proclaiming your love to big hairy dudes is the best terf-repellant you seem to be missing the point at best.

i'd love to actually respond to your concerns or whatever the hell it was that you were trying to convey with this ask, but it has almost no basis in reality so i literally cant.

thats the one statement on how effective i think the banners are that has left my queue so far. which is: i hope it works but also have literally 2 other backup plans already in case it does not. i dont know why youre calling that "acting like [me] proclaiming [my] love to big hairy dudes is the best terf-repellant", because thats wildly off target from what i have actually said at any point. everything else youve said is also pretty much either dead wrong or ignorant, so im getting the feeling that you not reading has been a problem for a while.

(ive also not mentioned terfs this entire time--ive been talking about radfems and using the word radfems. they're not the same thing although there's large overlap. so like. thats strike two for zero reading comprehension, buddy. cause you are literally not talking about the group im talking about and youre also inventing whole new sentences that i didnt say.)

[maidstew]

Hi, Lily! Seeing the other anon who gave you the ships made me want to share my ideas with you as well, haha!

This is about to be very long, I'm sorry!

I'm also a Felix and Clemmie shipper myself, actually! In my headcanons, they have one daughter (I keep seeing people headcanon that Felix would have a daughter if he was alive, and I can totally see him as a girl dad!), who's named after Clemensia's older sister who passed in the war (Aelia, in my hcs), and as well as Felix's older sister (Faustina, in my hcs). So, their daughter's name is Aelia Faustina Ravinstill.

my hcs about the ravinstills:

Aelia looks like this: https://i.pinimg.com/564x/29/92/f4/2992f406a697190b04fb2c72d162070f.jpg

They live in a big mansion with black and gold as the main colors.

Aelia is a huge daddy's girl and a mommy's twin.

They have two dobermans.

Their garden is filled with orange blossoms and clementines.

Felix and Clemensia are total love-birds who had a gorgeous and magical beach wedding.

Everytime Felix & Clemmie go to events, Aelia would always ask them, "Do you really have to go?" with a pouty face before they go.

Next ship! I am a huge Arachne x Livia fan, so the anon saying they have a kid named Achilles and definitely a few pomeranions too made me add that to my hcs! Achilles' full name in my hcs is 'Achilles Seneca Crane-Cardew'.

my hcs:

Arachne and Livia are just the BEST moms in the world.

Their pomeranions are named after Brandy and Facet.

Whenever some kid tries to brag about how wealthy and how their parents got them this and that, Achilles would just say, "Oh yeah? Well, I have two moms!"

Arachne and Livia definitely had a huge, extravagant wedding.

Achilles definitely has Arachne's wit.

And Livia's adorable smile.

Their mansion's main color is pink. Definitely.

Arachne, Achilles, and Livia have a late night cuddle session together.

Now, onto Festus and Persephone, my loves. I can totally see that they have a daughter named Athena. (I saw it somewhere, so thank you to that person who said it first!) Athena Flavia Creed just sounds so Festus-and-Persie-kid coded. And of course, they have another baby son named Flavius Mizzen Creed. (named after mizzen<3)

my hcs:

I imagine Summer Fontana as Athena.

Both Athena and Flavius got Persephone's dimples and Festus' ginger hair.

Festus and Persephone had a beautiful garden wedding!

Their mansion's main colors are blue and gold.

When Flavius gets older, he looks a lot like Festus.

They have brown toy poodles.

Athena is a huge daddy's girl and Flavius is a huge mommy's boy.

Festus does anything Persephone tells him to do.

Festus definitely tells dad jokes.

Only Persephone laughs.

Persephone and Festus are huge lovebirds. Even in front of their children.

Additional hcs:

Athena, Aelia, and Achilles are a trio.

Plutarch Heavensbee, Hilarius and Vipsania's son (stole it from @felixravinstills) has a thing for Aelia, but doesn't show it.

Flavius definitely brags to other kids about how much people spoil him.

Achilles and Athena end up together later in the future.

When Coriolanus and Lucy Gray's daughter, Mary Topaz, was born, Achilles, Aelia, and Athena were already four, whilst Flavius was three.

Felix, Hilarius, Coriolanus, and Festus are a friend group, and they meet up at the club occasionally before they married and had kids.

Now they just play poker together at Coryo's house.

Whenever their husbands (then boyfriends), went to the club, Vipsania, Clemensia, Persephone, and Lucy Gray would have girl's night outs just shopping and gossiping. Arachne and Livia are invited, obvi. They still do it whenever their husbands play poker.

The ten of them have occasional dinners with no kids.

please tell me your opinions on these, and continue them (give more ideas) if you'd like! I hope this interested you!

hello anon!!! i’m so excited you’ve come to share your ideas with me!! never apologize for the length- i want everyone’s thoughts on everything all the time!

felix & clemmie

i just can’t personally picture him with anyone but festus but your ideas are so delightful that i love it anyway!

you’re totally right- felix is 100% a girl dad (and aelia is so cute!)

her asking them if they really have to go- i just know felix melts every single time 🥺

seriously, this is all so cute! i would 100% read this if you ever deciding to write it up!

arachne & livia

i’m just adoring this idea of arachne & livia together! they really would be the best moms. i think arachne would be so overprotective of any child they have.

AHHH achilles being like ‘i have TWO moms’ to anyone bragging. the ultimate checkmate.

god, a child that’s a mix of arachne and livia- terrifying and absolutely able to take over the world.

festus & persephone

i adore the idea of them having a daughter named athena (it’s like a cute little nod to athena strates, plus it fits so well!) and then naming a child after mizzen 🥺 i just know mizzen is bragging to coral in the afterlife about that!

prayer circle for pippa everyone! she’s in a house full of gingers and i just know they’re all as mischievous as festus.

their wedding was definitely a beautiful but small outdoor wedding! and festus cried when he first saw pippa in her dress.

-

god, i would love to hear/read more about the adventures of athena, aelia, and achilles! i just know they get into some wild stuff.

i just love how happy these ideas are!! it’s so sweet 💛 i’m still not over them naming a child after mizzen like. ugh. my heart.