#from a completely different angle. its not a story about stories its a story about choics

[novella-november]

Not to harsh your joy regarding your personal project, (which does sound awesome!) the fact that you keep answering the "can I do fanfic?" questions with "technically yes, but have you considered not doing that?" does not actually *feel* very fanfic friendly. (Especially for anyone who enjoys fanfic as a hobby and isn't also an ofic writer. For example, I personally write almost exclusively character studies that are an explicit reaction to canon; there is no real way to write that sort of thing except as fanfic.)

Which is just a long-winded way of requesting that you maybe consider less of a caveat with the FAQ if you make one, please.

oh that was definitely not my intention, thanks for the ask! I think it was mostly just because I got that same question a few times in a row from various anons within the same time span (including some that were not published publicly), it just happened that I was thinking of my own project(s, plural now) in the last day when I answered those two, for those who want an extra creative challenge.

There's a reason my own original thing has been in my head for the last ten years without me actually writing it while I've written and posted tons of fanfiction, and even now some of my original works are going to be based on Arsene Lupin, so they'd technically be considered fanfiction since they're based on and use an established work for the characters and settings --

--writing completely original fic *is* harder, and that's exactly why I'm *suggesting* (not requiring!) that people consider taking 1 out of short story 4 challenges to look at their work in a new light.

90% of what I read and (until I actually start and finish my original works) 100% of what I've written in my life is fanfic. I have nothing against fanfic, otherwise I woudn't even be interested in creative writing.

But its also not a diss to say "Would you consider looking at your [fanfic] writing from a new angle and try to figure out different ways of going about it?"

Honestly, being able to even consider this option *as a fun extra challenge* is meant to help improve your writing and creative skills; it's not meant as a cheap shot at people who choose to write fanfiction because I my self write and read tons of it,

it's me saying "if you want even more practice at creative writing during these monthly challenges, try branching out a little bit from your comfort zone, you may be pleasantly surprised."

People who write and read fanfiction already have tons of creative experience, and if people like me and many other fanfic writers who one day dream of being published authors, want to broaden our horizons and seek new experiences, one of the easiest exercises is to take something we're planning on writing or already wrote, and see what we would change to make it brand new and standalone--

-- something that not only helps you come up with new ideas, but also will help when it comes time to *edit*, which can be, depending on the length and complexity of your story, can be a complicated process:

whether that means having to delete scenes entirely,

changing what a character says,

altering an aspect of the worldbuilding to fix plot holes

, re-writing your character so they're not overpowered because it was ruining the stakes and tension,

changing the POV of chapters because it was ruining the flow of the story,

etc etc etc.

I love fan fiction.

I love reading it and I love writing it, and for many people who take on monthly writing challenges, it is a way to test ourselves and gear ourselves up and prove to ourselves that not only can we write x amount of words, but it proves to ourselves that we are *capable of creating*, and for many creatives, that ultimately leads to crafting our own unique stories;

if you're already taking place in a monthly writing challenge, why not push the bounds a little bit *if you're so inclined* and test the waters? Especially when you're surrounded by a community who is cheering you on, every step of the way?

Every Nanowrimo I ever won was fanfiction. Heck, even not during November I once did 40k words in two weeks for a fic.

I always stalled out when I tried to write original works;

it is much easier to start small with a single short story than it is to try to write an entirely original novel, and my encouraging people to try baby steps by *experimenting* with one short story out of four in a month is not meant to be a diss against fanfiction,

but an *encouragement to those like me* who were so eager to write original works but floundered when I tried to jump into the deep end and felt disheartened.

Many fanfic authors aspire to write original fics, and thats who that challenge is for, for the people who want to write original works but are too afraid to fully commit; I'll still be writing and posting fanfiction even if I become a published author, even If I just have to come up with a few new pen-names to post them under.

There's absolutely no judgement on anyone who wants to write fanfiction for these challenges, my "caveat" as you say, is only there as encouragement to those like me who are afraid to take the first step, or uncertain of how to even *begin* that first step, not any kind of condemnation.

TL;DR:

I did not mean for my responses on the "can I write fanfiction" to come off as rude or looking down on fanfiction, its meant to be an encouragment to all the people like me who love fanfic and started out writing fanfiction, and dream of writing original works to take the first step, with a community of like-minded people all taking the same challenge.

Like every other challenge aspect of these events, taking a fanfic idea and turning it into an original short story is completely optional and meant as inspiration, just like following prompts for events is not mandatory, and even completing the 30k word goal is not mandatory; the goal for this month is to create, get in the habit of creating, and having fun with it!

[ialwaysknewyouwerepunk]

.

[lilydvoratrelundar]

the thing about loki 2021 is that its really fuckin good but not in any of the ways that the loki comics are really fuckin good. and the loki comics are better. go read the loki comics.

[goldenbuckyyy]

LOVER

Summary: An inside look into the happily ever after between you and Draco that is well deserved.

Pairings: Draco Malfoy x Fem!Reader

Word count: 2.3kish

Warnings: SMUT (!!), raw sex, synchronized orgasms, slight dirty talk, cream pie, making out, established relationship.. anything else?! Let me know!!

A/N: I had always been wanting to write this little epilogue for my favorite little story, Heather. Please read my previous post which is just an explanation into why I hadn’t posted in a while! I hope you enjoy this. Title inspo: “Lover” by Taylor Swift.

All mistakes are my own. Please do not repost or translate my fics on any other side nor this one. 

I appreciate any likes, reblogs, messages, and interactions. Please message me your thoughts! Love reading them. 🫶🏻

Story Masterlist | Main Masterlist

“Shhhh, baby. You gotta be quiet,” your husband rasps into your neck, his deep voice sending goosebumps loose all over your skin, as he licks a small strip up to your chin as he proceeds to nibble on your bottom lip. His warm, soft hands touching your skin which makes you feel like you're burning underneath him. 

You clench your eyes together to try and make sense of all of the different sensations you’re currently feeling. 

A strangled moan chokes its way out of the back of your throat as he angles his hips upwards to go in deeper as you instinctively wrap one of your legs around his waist to give him better access. Your hands touch his soft skin around his waist as you hold onto him, gripping tightly into his flesh. 

Your bodies synching together like they always have. Even after all these years. No amount of time would ever come close to being enough. You’re always going to want more. 

More. More. More. 

Your husband steals your moans as he covers your mouth with his own, his lips moving against yours softly, and your arms wrap around his neck to pull him into you. One of your hands moves into his hair, tugging at the roots gently as his own hands move to grip onto your hips, and you both start moving together. Speeding up when you start feeling the familiar ache in your lower belly. 

You both pull away from each other's necks, smiling when you both notice the same reflexes, and you reach up to kiss your husband's sweet mouth once more. His thrusting only grows rougher and deeper, but still moves with caution and it makes your entire body erupt in chills as you both moan into each other's mouth when you climax together. 

Always together. 

Your toes curl into the bed as your husband continues to thrust into you, spilling himself completely into your warmth, and you peck his lips a couple times as he leans his forehead against yours. Both letting out loud pants and small giggles. A cheeky grin overtakes his face as his eyelashes flutter against his creamy skin. 

His beautiful silver eyes meet yours as he kisses the tip of your nose and then he slowly pulls out of you which makes you whine at the loss of contact and he flips down next to you. He chuckles deeply as he rubs his chest, which is moving rapidly as he comes down from his orgasm, and his fingers brush against your breast. 

His fingers caress your naked skin around your chest, “God, I love you. I love how we’re still in sync even after all this time.” 

“So do I,” you whisper back sweetly to him as you reach over to him to kiss his cheek, which makes him flush like he always does, and you slowly start getting off the bed. You use the bedside table to steady yourself as you stand up. 

“It’s starting already?” He yells after you as you speed walk into the master bathroom that you are so incredible thankful for at this second because you feel like your bladder is about to burst. 

“Shush,” you exclaim back with a giggle as you proceed to finally sit down on the toilet and have yourself a wee. Your entire body relaxes at the feeling and you look down at your protruding belly. 

Three months to go. 

You reach over to grab your belly oil and rub it all over your stomach as you relax for a second. You almost jump off the seat when you hear your husband's voice from the door. 

“You’re a sight, my love.” 

“Draco!” You exclaim with an eye roll as you watch him watching you. He stands against the bathroom door, leaning against it, still naked, and you let yourself take in his body in its full glory. 

You take a minute to admire his muscular posture with his lean frame. You admire his creamy, milky skin which is covered in bruises. Which were caused by your mouth. Always leaving them everywhere because you absolutely loved to mark him up. You always made sure they were in places that could be hidden underneath his Auror robes. 

He still brought up the one time you accidentally marked him above the collar mark and everybody teased him for weeks until it faded away. Especially since Draco never used glamour charms on his skin. 

You admire his long legs with his equally long torso and you loved how tall he was. He always made you feel safe and secure in his arms. You lick your own lips as your eyes land on his valuable member. 

Your stomach tingles as he slowly strokes himself, still a bit hard for your morning activities, and you let out a laugh. 

“Stop it,” you demand as you clean yourself up and proceed to wash your hands. You stare at him from the mirror with a small smile. 

“Stop what?” He questions with a smirk as he goes to the toilet to do his own business. 

“I’m already pregnant with your sixth offspring because of that thing!” Your eyes looking wide at his cock in his hands. 

Draco lets out a loud, belly laugh that makes the corner of his eyes crinkle as he cleans himself up. “Technically it’s only your fifth pregnancy!”

“Don’t act like you don’t absolutely love it,” he whispers as he places a big kiss into your warm cheek causing you to giggle again. 

You leave him be as you walk into your shared walk in closet. You pull over a matching pair of baby blue knickers and a soft bralette. You wiggle your way into your comfiest pair of black leggings and soft knit white jumper. You slip your feet into your fuzzy gray slippers and start making your way down the hallway. Your ears are perking up trying to hear any signs that your kids are up.  

You start making breakfast the muggle way, thanks to Hermoine for teaching you, and you’re humming along to a song when the first sign of life invades your senses. 

You feel small hands sneak up on your belly as you smile brightly, pausing as you mix the eggs, and look down at bright gray eyes looking up at you. 

“Good morning, mummy!” Your little five year old daughter, Aries, whispers as she shows off her bright toothy smile. 

You bend to kiss her forehead as she giggles, “Good morning, my little angel. Where’s your brother?” 

She rubs your belly lightly as she then skips to her usual chair around the family table, “Brushing his teeth, mummy.” 

“Did you brush yours already?” You ask with a raised eyebrow and she giggles even louder. 

“Duh, mummy!!” 

Right on time, Aries' twin brother Phoenix, comes running down the hallway.. excessively loud and giggling as your oldest ten year old son, Scorpius is chasing after him. Your seven year old, Leo, is walking behind them slowly. Yawning and rubbing his eyes lazily as he trails into his seat at the table as he moans out a good morning to you and blows you an air kiss. 

“Be careful!!” You yell after them as Aries only watches them with a smile on her face as you continue cooking breakfast. You hear louder footsteps as Draco comes into the kitchen, ready for the day in his Head Auror robes, and holding your three year old daughter in his arms. 

He reaches you, pecking your lips sweetly as if you didn’t just spend the morning wrapped around him, and lets you kiss Lyra’s soft cheek as she smiles at you. Her tiny hand touches your hair slightly. 

Her eyes that match yours watch you as Draco walks away from you and tries to wrangle up all the kids for breakfast before he has to leave for work. 

The kids are all yelling, moving, and proceeding to sit in their favorite seats. You and Draco proceed to move in sync together as you both gather plates for the kids. Moving to fill each with cut up pancakes, scrambled eggs, cut up strawberries, and each kid getting their favorite drinks. You quickly make Lyra a yogurt bowl with extremely small slices of strawberries on the side and a cup of her favorite milk. 

Bumping hips and sneakily smiling at each other. 

Draco starts handing each one of your shared kids their own special plate and drink as you make your own plate along with your husbands. 

You set the plates down as you hand Draco’s hot coffee that’s under a stasis charm as he hands you a thankful smile and passes you your own cinnamon tea in your mug. 

The room is soon filled with loud children talking.  Scorpius and Leo arguing about what to do today after daddy gets home. Debating on if they should play quidditch or have a family movie night since it’s Friday. Which means daddy gets the weekend off. Aries and Phoenix are munching on their breakfast loudly and making silly faces at each other which causes them to giggle excessively at each other. Lyra sits in her high chair as she observes her siblings with a silly little smile on her face and trying her best to eat her yoghurt with her tiny pink spoon. 

Draco feeds her small bites of his own pancakes as Lyra happily accepts them. 

“What are your plans today, baby?” 

You hum as you finish your bite of food, “Hermoine and Pansy are coming over today. They say they want help with the wedding planning, but I think they’re having godchildren withdrawal.” 

Draco snickers at that with a slight eye roll, “Of course they are. Our children are the best.” 

You smile at him, “So, Pansy told Theo and now he’s coming over with the kids as well.” 

Draco nodded his head, “I’m sure Potter is happy about that.” 

“Anything to get Theo away from his nesting habits and begging Harry for another baby,” you say with a soft smile as you think of your best friends. 

Draco scoffs and rolls his eyes playfully, “I’m sure his baby fever will end once he sees your pregnant belly and our adorable Lyra. Didn’t they just adopt baby Sirius?” 

“Baby Sirius is going to be four already! Then Lily and James are already Scorpius age. Theo is just scared of empty nesting, but Harry says he wants to wait until this big case he’s dealing with passes.” 

Draco hums in agreement, “I wish we were like that.” And he proceeds to give you a soft teasing smile.  

You poke him with your fork and shake your head, “We have kids basically every two years, these twin girls are the last ones!” You eye him with an authoritative look. 

“Anything you say, my love.” 

“Do you think Hermoine and Pansy will ever adopt or have kids of their own?” You ask as you watch Lyra to make sure she’s eating. Draco doesn’t miss the tone of your voice at your question. 

“You’ve noticed the way Hermoine looks at your belly, huh?” 

“I have,” you reply softly. “It’s just.. Pansy always says she’s okay with just being a godmother, but ‘Min…” you trail off with a sad smile. 

Draco reaches over to your hand and squeezes, “I understand, trust me. Maybe get a second with Granger and just talk to her about what we’ve noticed.” 

“Maybe. I don’t want to overstep,” you say as you sip your drink. Scorpius is the first one that finishes eating and he quickly thanks you for breakfast with a kiss on your cheek as he moves to start washing the dishes. You admire your first born for a second and can’t help but love how much he looks like his father and how big he’s gotten. 

The same milky white skin with bright pale hair and even with the same matching gray eyes. His exact copy. Oh, you can’t help but tear up at how much you love your first baby boy. The first baby that made you a mother and taught you about a mothers love. 

The one who made you want a million more babies. 

Leo and Phoenix soon start helping clean up the plates as Draco helps Lyra get cleaned up. Aries helps him as you use your magic to clean up the table and Lyra’s high chair. 

You hum in contentment as you proceed to kiss the cheeks of all your kids. Scorpius blushes, Leo kisses you back, Phoenix and Aries giggle, and Lyra pulls you in to attack you with kisses and hugs. Draco soon jumps into all the loving before he has to floo to work. 

Draco piles all the kids into his arms as he squeezes them into his arms and then tells them to go play before their cousins come over. 

He gently pulls you into his arms as one of his hands slips underneath your jumper to rub your belly as he kisses your lips sweetly. The feeling of his lips on your sends sparks all over your body like it always does and you savor his taste. 

“I love you,” you whisper into him as he smiles against your lips. 

“I love you more,” he whispers back with a couple more pecks against your smiling mouth. 

“Be careful and I’ll see you soon,” you kiss your lips one more time as he steps into the fireplace. 

“Always am, my love. And I’ll be counting down the minutes,” he says with a wink as he grabs a handful of floo powder and calls out his location. He bursts into green flames and your hearing soon fills with the sounds of your children’s giggles and loud voices playing together.  

You take a moment to take it all in. 

Loving the same boy… now man for as long as you can remember. The amazing life you both have built. It was never easy and there have been many hardships, but it was incredibly worth it. 

What a beautiful life you both had built slips into your mind as you smile to yourself in pure bliss. 

[starstruckmiraclekitty]

Oh GOD, a crazy idea came into my head. What would happen if each of these five men faced the problem of an unexpectedly broken bed during rough sex?? How would they react and what would they do? i'm terrible...

Literally laughed out loud at this one. Thank you🤣🤭 Hope this does your request justice!

PS: literally got second hand embarrassment writing this

141 + König Breaking their GN! Partners Bed

Warnings: This is trash, smut, cursing

Simon "Ghost" Riley-

You were bouncing up on down on Simon's cock, your hole swallowing his shaft entirely with each movement.

Simon could tell your body was starting to weaken, and decided he'd take the initiative to help you find your release.

He'd flipped you over, so that he was on top, trapping you in a missionary pose.

Lining himself up with your entrance, he began pounding into you with a brutal speed.

Evidently, the bed was not made to withstand the amount of force that Simon was emitting, as he was practically fucking you into the mattress.

Mid thrust, the beds legs had completely given out, causing your mattress to go tumbling to the ground in the middle of the bed frame.

The two of you grew very quiet as you both took in what just happened. You looked up at him and saw a small smile forming on his lips before letting out a fit of giggles.

"Think it's funny, do ya?" He asked, chuckling. He kissed your brow before returning his lips to your neck.

"Simon, its broken!" You managed to get out in between giggles. "We can't continue like this!"

"Say's who? 'S fine, needed a new one anyways. " He smirked as he continued his movements, still wholly intent on still having you each find your release. He sure wasn't about to let a broken bed prevent him from making you feel good.

"Johnny "Soap" MacTavish-

Johnny wasn't one to be rough in bed much. The two of you often having your rough sex in the shower.

He'd woken you late in the night one night, as he was beyond sexually frustrated, and his fist just wasn't enough.

With your legs wrapped around his waist, and his arms tightly gripping your headboard, Johnny was pounding into you at a brutal pace.

His grip on the headboard had tightened, and just as he had almost reached his high, the headboard had snapped in half underneath his grip.

Soap immediately stopped his movements, staring on in shock at the piece of broken wood in his hands.

"Jolly." He cursed, looking down to find you staring at him with wide eyes.

"Did you just break our bed...Johnny?" You asked, a hint of a smile forming on your face.

"I uh.. I think I did, lass." He slowly pulled himself out of you, and set the piece of wood on the floor. He was about to turn and mumble his apologies when he heard a loud cackle come from you. "Darlin?"

"YOU BROKE OUR BED!" You hollered, unable to control your laughter.

Johnny gave a sheepish glance to you, and rubbed his hand along his mohawk in embarrassment. "I'm so sorry, I'll get us a new one."

"Don't bother, this is a hilarious story to tell people when they come visit. Oh hey, why is half your headboard missing? Oh, yeah Johnny fucked me so hard he broke it!." You doubled over in laughter, causing a smile to form on Johnny's lip, as he too started to chuckle.

The bed did in fact remain there, and you and he never could get through telling the story to your friends without laughing.

John Price-

Price was always one for rough sex. The man craved it. He loved seeing his marks littering your body, and hearing your desperate moans for him to go harder.

Tonight was no different, and you and John were in bed, his hand fisting your hair, while thrusting into you from behind.

"F-uuck. Feels so good, love." He'd groaned, feeling you clench around him

He'd put more pressure in his knees, so he was able to ground himself better, the movement causing a CRACK to come from your bed.

John's brows furrowed in concern, before the end of the bed collapsed on the floor, causing the mattress to fall at an angle.

John had fallen backward at the impact, losing his balance and landing on his ass with a thud.

"John!" You cried, turning yourself around to see your husband on the floor, laughing hysterically.

He threw his head back in laughter, causing you to laugh yourself. "I am so sorry about that love. Can't say that's ever happened to me before."

The two of you laughed together, as john moved to stand up, inspecting the damage that was done. The bed was destroyed, the foot board beyond repair.

"What do you say we go to Ikea, pick out a new one yeah?" He asked, helping you off the broken bed. You nodded your head eagerly, catching your breath from your laughter.

Later that night, once your new bed was put together, Price made damn sure to put it to the test.

Kyle "Gaz" Garrick-

Kyle had a tough day at work, nothing was going his way. From spilling coffee on himself, to shutting his finger in the car door, he was convinced the world was out to get him.

He was in serious need of a stress reliever, and was over the moon when you'd taken him to the bedroom once he walked in the door.

Kyle had you in missionary, and was jutting into you in a frenzied pace, desperately seeking his release

He'd evidently put too much pressure on the one side of the bed, because a loud cracking noise filled the room.

The post on the right side of your bed had split, causing the bed to shift at an angle, sending the two of you tumbling off the side of the bed.

You'd landed on Kyle with a THUD, the two of you on the landing on the floor next to the now broken bed.

Kyle's eyes widened as he looked over to the bed, and looked back to you, about to mumble his apologies.

You bit your lip to stifle a laugh. You knew he had a really bad day, and presumed laughing at this would only make it worse.

Kyle sat in silence for a moment before a laugh escaped his lips. "Fuck this day, man. I can't even shag my partner without something going wrong."

The two of you erupted in laughter, as Kyle moved to lay on the ground next to you.

"Babe, what do you say we do a pillow fort in the living room tonight? Get some wine and pizza and have a movie night?" You asked, pressing a kiss to his cheek. "We'll worry about the bed tomorrow."

"God, you're so perfect for me. I love you." He declared, pressing a kiss to your lips.

Though the evening didn't go as Kyle had originally planned, he didn't regret a second of it.

Konig-

Konig was going fucking ham on you in your shared bed.

He'd been away on deployment for nearly 3 months, and barely made it through the door before the two of you jumped each other

He had you in a mating press, and was punishing your hole at a brutal pace.

He'd barley fit on your bed as it was, so his feet were pressed firmly on the footboard of your bed as he was jutting into you.

"Harder, please." You'd begged him, causing his mind to go blank as he obeyed your commands.

He pushed just a bit harder against the foot board, allowing him to go deeper

The force from his feet had caused the wood to crack, and split open, the top half of the foot board falling off.

"Heilige Scheiße!" Konig cried out, turning to look at what he'd just done.

You sat up abruptly, and looked at the end of the bed, before howling with laughter.

"Maus?" He asked, brows furrowed in confusion. "Why are you laughing?"

You were unable to get a word out, from how hard you were laughing. Konig's cheeks burned from his embarrassment, and he muttered something incoherent in German under his breath.

"Baby, no! It's fine. I'm not laughing at you, I promise. You have to admit that was funny." You immediately went to console your boyfriend.

"But I broke your bed, you should be mad at me."

"I am not mad in the slightest, that just made my day." You chuckled. "Please, it's okay I promise."

He nodded his head and allowed the giggle bubbling in his chest to escape his lips.

He'd still felt terrible about breaking your bed though, and spent the rest of the afternoon gluing the piece back together.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

[glassbirdfeather]

Mohg's Brain

(This is an essay on Mohg, Lord of Blood, from hit video game Elden Ring. It just takes a bit to get there.)

There is a story often repeated in Psychology classes, Physiology classes, pop psych media like YouTube, podcasts, and garbage daytime television on channels that used to be scientifically rigorous: about a man with an incredible brain injury. For those of you who haven't heard the story or are not yet sick of hearing it, I've included it from memory below, because I have heard it just that many times.

If you've heard this story already, you can skip to the subtitle: "Can We Even Learn Anything From Gage?"

If you already know the controversies about Phineas Gage or just want to jump to the part about the video game character, you can skip to the subtitle: "Let's FINALLY talk about Video Game"

----

"The Curious Case of Phineas Gage"

Phineas Gage was a railroad worker who would help clear land with explosives. The dubious and definitely wouldn't-have-been-OSHA-approved method of laying these explosives was to chip a hole into the mountainside, place the explosives, and then tamp it down using some sort of implement like a railroad spike. What happened next was predictable and it's surprising this didn't happen much more often--when packing the explosives, they detonated in Gage's face. Specifically, this launched the spike underneath his left eye and out of the top of his head. Less predictably, Phineas stood up afterwards. When a doctor arrived, said doctor did not believe what had occurred until Gage vomited approximately a "teacupful of brain matter" onto the street.

Due to lack of effective sterilization and antibiotics at the time, poor Phineas Gage was bedridden for several months, where he continued to lose further brain matter to infection. Eventually, he did recover, although he would continue to experience migraines and seizures for the rest of his life. While he lost his job for the railroad service, he went on to work in a sideshow attraction, carrying around the very railroad spike that went through his head. Eventually, he got a job and worked as a taxi driver and lived for several more years before dying of a seizure.

Phineas Gage was never the same after this life-altering injury: he was belligerent, drunk, lied frequently, and lost his job for the railroad company because of his new personality. And I do say NEW personality--Phineas had become like a completely different person and was, in essence, "no longer Gage" (they love quoting that). The damage to regions of the prefrontal cortex made him unable to make moral judgements, and impaired his impulse control.

OR MAYBE THAT LAST PART ISN'T TRUE.

Phineas Gage was NOT much changed by this life-altering injury. Though he lost his job at the railway company, the cause of this job loss is unknown. He MAY have had severe alterations to his personality due to this injury, but whether these changes were due to physical damage or emotional trauma--or whether personality changes ACTUALLY occurred at all--are disputed.

----

Can We Even Learn Anything From Gage?

Though I am uncertain if we have exact data on which parts of his brain he was left with when accounting for what was later lost to infection, the trajectory and angle of the injury suggests he initially lost much of his prefrontal cortex. Which of the previous versions of the story are told or over/under-emphasized is dependent on the point the teller is trying to make in the age-old debate of nature vs. nurture.

Some psychologists argue that Gage's personality change demonstrates the Global Workspace Model, where different parts of the brain are responsible for different parts of consciousness, and that by changing or removing parts of the brain, you change consciousness.

Other psychologists will argue that the LACK of change is evidence of the brain's incredible plasticity--its ability to adapt and compensate for missing parts by shifting the functions of those parts to be performed by different regions.

Most reasonably, he probably experienced some cognitive differences while still being effectively the same person and is an example of both points of view. But we don't have concrete enough evidence to say.

Any class in which a teacher or textbook needs evidence to support whatever point they're trying to make about how changes to the brain affects personality, addiction, emotional regulation, decision making, etc., they'll use Gage to make that point, no matter what stance they take. So really, Gage isn't a useful case study beyond what we could actually observe: he lost some of his brain and lived, while also experiencing migraines and seizures for the rest of his life.

With all of that said, if we assume that Gage experienced no changes to cognitive function or personality, I just typed out a story I am very sick of hearing for no reason. So let's assume that at least some of those observations were true.

----

Let's FINALLY Talk About Video Game

Her are some potentially useful images to reference if you want. Left: general brain regions and their functions. Right: paranasal sinus cavities.

Unlike a nice, straight tamping iron, Mohg's horns curl in unpredictable directions. Some assumptions must be made about length, depth, and diameter to determine what region and volume of his skull is occupied by his horn. The minimum I expect is that the horn occupies the region of his frontal lobe in any scenario. Let's also set a maximum limit: I believe it is reasonable to assume it has not reached the primary motor cortex, where it would disrupt body control and physical movement... unless one wants to suggest he is puppetting himself in his boss fight like a bloodbender. Which, let's be real, IS a really badass concept, someone should write that fanfiction.

Though I argue that Gage is a bad example to use given our lack of reliable data on his personality and lived experiences, we DO know that disrupting the function of the prefrontal cortex can affect judgment, planning, concentration, and any type of higher processing you might call a uniquely 'human' mental ability (I acknowledge the mental abilities of birds and primates but they are beyond the scope of this essay). It may be safe to assume that, in Mohg's case, these mental processes are harmed regardless of any further extrapolation I make. One other brain region of note is the motor speech (Broca) area, located on the left side directly behind the prefrontal cortex and controls muscle movements for speech.

On the topic of pain, migraines, and seizures: He has a horn in his head, it probably hurts. Obstructions (like cysts) can cause buildup of cerebrospinal fluid, which can cause pain and is a common cause of seizures. It is difficult to say how many people have benign brain tumors, but there is speculation that benign tumors in the brain are unexpectedly common. People only typically get brain scans when they've already noticed a problem, but there have been cases of perfectly healthy people having (non-cancerous) brain tumors, so a mass being present in the brain does NOT guarantee seizures will occur. This being said, that horn is significantly larger than a typical benign brain tumor. Migraines and seizures are very reasonable to assume.

I don't know what to say about illness and disease. In theory, if the horn grew at any point after birth, I would say he should have died from any pathogens that were introduced during its corkscrewing into his skull. Phineas Gage was bedridden for months due to infection, was under the care of a doctor, and he wasn't living in a sewer. Do the Lands Between understand the germ theory of disease? It may at least know that poop in the brain is bad, but I listen to Sawbones, so I know that isn't something we can just assume. It's possible he's lost some impossible-to-estimate amount of brain matter to infection. Feel free to speculate about Omen resistance to pathogens, but I don't feel that is the point of this essay. I'll say it's safe to assume his body has healed closed around it, but anything else I won't try to extrapolate.

----

Specificity from Horn Trajectory

Possibility 1:

If we estimate the continued trajectory from the visible part of the horn, it actually continues medially, towards the center of the body, and curls downward. This might even miss most of the brain and instead disrupt the frontal, ethmoidal, and maxillary sinus cavities of the skull.

It may possibly even pierce the roof of the mouth, if we roughly estimate the rate at which the horn tapers and where it likely ends. I argue that this is the most optimistic scenario in terms of his health, because although the horn almost certainly penetrates the prefrontal cortex, it may not be as deep as other possibilities.

In this horn trajectory case, he probably experiences constant sinus pressure similar to a permanent head cold, obstruction to his sense of smell, and by extension his sense of taste. Even if the horn does not completely block his nasal cavity, it may have damaged his olfactory nerve and thus disabled his sense of smell anyway. Should the horn obstruct his mouth he may experience physical difficulties eating and speaking.

Possibility 2:

A worse scenario may be to assume this horn instead extends directly backwards. This would likely pass through the motor speech area, and may have caused him to lose the ability to talk, forcing him to relearn how to speak by having another part of the brain learn to do this function (similar to how anyone learns a second language after very early childhood). It may also reach the LEFT temporal lobe, which processes hearing and smell for the RIGHT side of the body, and therefore he could be deaf in his right ear. Again, the olfactory nerve is potentially in the path of the horn, and loss of sense of smell is frequently considered a symptom of brain damage, so regardless of the angle of the horn this is a high possibility.

----

What Time of Horn Growth Could Tell Us

Children are more likely to recover well from brain damage. The older he was when the horn entered his brain, the more likely he would be to experience cognitive impairment.

Should Mohg's horn have developed that way before birth, his brain may have formed around it without issue, or obstructed regions may have simply remained underdeveloped. His skull would also have developed to more 'comfortably' accommodate this horn, rather than having to break and re-heal around a later intrusion. If the horn is shallow enough and its growth occurred during fetal development or very early childhood before the fusing of the bones in the skull, it is possible that left eye blindness and mild discomfort are the only effects. The timing of the horn's growth being before birth or in early infancy is supported by the Regal Omen Bairn, which shows Morgott with seemingly all of his horns, suggesting that omens horns are largely present upon birth and that those horns grow in proportion with them.

However, given the themes associated with the Formless Mother, here is another--vastly more speculative--hypothesis: Mohg's horn was grown deliberately into his skull by the influence of the Formless Mother, perhaps with or without his consent. I find it hard to believe that a force claimed to be the "mother of truth" which "desires a wound" would be unaware of the possible effects of this type of wound.

I posit that the Formless Mother intended to compromise Mohg's consciousness and sense of reason to make him easier to manipulate. If we assume that they were not working together (debatable), the abduction of Miquella and potential interruption and sabotage of his ascension puts an empyrean under the Formless Mother's control, and works counter to the dynasty Mohg desires. Damage to his ability to plan, make rational decisions, and his sense of morality could explain how Mohg seems to want a place for outcast and hated people, likely seeing a kinship with Miquella, but has created something that is the antithesis to the Haligtree.

Furthermore, should we assume that Mohg and Miquella met previously and Miquella had the opportunity to do so, the power Miquella purportedly has to compel adoration in others may have interacted poorly with Mohg's potentially impaired emotional processing, and could have caused an obsessive outcome that the Formless Mother did not predict.

Of course, I don't believe every awful and cruel decision someone makes is the result of brain damage, but this may explain the incongruity between what Mohg seems to want and what he has made. Whether Mohg is "the reigning lord and hierarch of the coming dynasty of Mohgwyn" or "a raving lunatic" may not be an incompatible dichotomy. It may be sequential.

----

Glassbirdfeather you're so wrong, why did you say ___?

I am not a doctor. I am a chemistry student with a biology lean (clinical laboratory science) and am drawing my conclusions from what I've learned in Anatomy, Physiology, and Psychology classes at an introductory level, and I glanced back at my anatomy and psychology textbooks as my sole academic sources. Please don't take this as a well-researched essay, none of the claims I make about mental or physical health are properly cited. This is just fandom theorizing; it's as academically rigorous as fanfiction. Any doctor/member of the medical profession who would like to correct me is invited to do so, I would love to hear more accurate and informed observations.

----

Bibliography

(literally just 2 references, man)

Grison, Sarah and Michael S. Gazzaniga. Psychology in Your Life. Third Edition, W. W. Norton & Company, 2019.

McKinley, Michael P. and Valerie Dean O'Loughlin. Human Anatomy. Fifth Edition, McGraw-Hill, 2017.

[pastel-greene]

The Daughter | king!sukuna x curse user!reader

Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 - Hunger | Chapter 4

Summary: The mother of curses happens upon a blind child and decides to impart a portion of her power to them as an experiment of sorts. The power morphs the child in their image until they are part curse and part human. So what happens when they get employed by the King of Curses? Will humanity bloom as newfound emotions flow between the two? Or will they usher in an era of never ending terror?

Notes: not all of this will be canon, it will be loosely based off of the jjk universe :) taglist is open, comment on any chapter to be tagged in future ones

Genre: female reader, fluff, angst, ‘loads’ of smut, violence, sukuna true form but like not with the weird face lmao just double set of eyes and arms, dark reader

Warnings: profanity, explicit smut (two dick sukuna, sadistic sex, biting, oral m & f receiving, pet names, more to be added), violence, depictions of gore, dark minds cause yk, mentions of rape, toxic relationships, chaotic neutral reader, trauma, possessiveness from reader and sukuna, torture, vampire themes (reader’s blood is infused with the Mother of curses so if a curse user is to drink it it basically gives them a temporary stat boost bc what can i say vampire sukuna seems hot), cannibalism (no I don’t support it but it is true to his character), and more to be added as story progresses

Word count: 7.3k

This work contains mature content, so absolutely no minors I will block you if I find out :)

You immersed yourself in a warm bath not long after returning to your room. Your bathtub was a large square with more than enough room in it. It could easily fit another person your size, but probably only one Sukuna, who it was likely measured after. Its large, flat edges were slightly angled to let any excess water flow back into the tub. A slatted bamboo platform went across the expanse and held a few different washing instruments as well as a small towel. You always grew up with little crates that you would bathe in if you even got to bathe. On a few jobs you had gotten to use nicer ones, but never one this nice. It was definitely a palace grade bathtub.

Your servants had asked if you required any assistance, to which you said no, and sent them off. You wanted to be alone for a minute and think about what the fuck just happened. You had just been giggling, joking, and fantasizing about the man that ripped apart your hand yesterday. And you were pretty damn sure he was doing the exact same, but why? You doubted he regretted what he did, especially since he threatened to do it again, but today he felt different. He wasn’t holding his title over you, he was just being with you. It felt like he was a completely different person and was giving you whiplash.

You sank lower into the tub until your nose barely stayed above the water. He was such an asshole. You still wanted to rip his arms off, but you also wanted to have them touch you again. You didn’t know if it was him in particular or just the fact it had been a few weeks since you had been with someone. In the weeks leading up to your departure, you had either been busy with work or working on a new technique Ieiri had come up with. The work was needed, though. As a technique, you could fully utilize it, but you were having some issues manifesting a curse that could accurately use it too. So it was good that you put in extra time experimenting with it while you were still with Shoko, but your body hated you for it all the same. Your clit still absolutely throbbing from your interaction with Sukuna. Now your joke of fucking the King started to grow meaning you never meant it to have.

You pulled your head underwater and curled up along the bottom of the tub. You shouldn’t want him. You should want to kill him for being an asshole. You always hated people that stayed with people that hurt them. It should be obvious that if someone hurts you, you shouldn’t stay within their grasp. Hell, in your opinion, you should get even with interest. Hurt them how they hurt you and then some. But you weren’t really hurt were you? You were just pissed he was so bipolar and refused to use his words when upset.

You traced along the hand he had wounded. It was like it had never happened. You didn’t even remember the pain now. It was becoming a distant memory. You pulled yourself to sit back up in the tub and looked at your hand once more before moving it to grab the towel on your tray. You folded it and used it to cushion the edge of the tub as you laid your head back. You closed your eyes and breathed in the aroma of lilacs and vanilla. The palace had so many imported scents you had never smelled before. You wondered where they got them all and how they were made. You had heard that the kingdom threw different festivals in the King’s honor that attracted a lot of merchants and wondered if they would sell them there. You bet there were all kinds of goods you normally couldn’t get your hands on sold there.

People aside, your stay at the palace was quite nice. Your food made you feel ways you never knew it could. There were so many spices you had never tasted before and so many textures you had never felt. You wanted to go to the kitchen one day and watch the chef cook. You wondered if you would be allowed to cook as well. Probably not in the Palace’s kitchen, but you weren’t above cooking outside. Although, you weren’t sure how Sukuna would feel about you setting a fire outside and cooking. It might be a very classless look for you. But realistically, you were indeed lacking class. You had never thought that you would end up where you were. You went from being an orphan sold for sex to the King’s guard. You went from being scared of the world you couldn’t see, to being able to drink in the world’s sites without trepidation. You used to beg and scrounge for food, killing when necessary. Now you had culinary masterpieces delivered to your door at least three times a day. Being here, you realized why your town was looked down upon. From the outside, it looked like a bunch of stray dogs fighting for scraps in a town that was barely standing. If you had only ever lived life like this, that would have been all you thought of it. You wouldn’t be able to understand what made it so great. But you were grateful for your past and upbringing, it allowed you to grow up without anything veiling reality. You saw the world for what it was, saw how people acted when they thought no one was watching, when they thought they were strong. Humans hated curses but failed to admit they were just as disgusting and vile as them. They refused to take credit for their part in creating them. The Mother was part of their creation, sure, but she existed in a world without curses for quite some time. Her power only grew into cursed energy when humans came along. Before she was just the darkness, a necessary opposite for light to exist. Human thoughts, their fears, dark desires, unchecked emotions, those are what opened the door for cursed energy.

After your bath, you had decided to go to the library you had recently heard of. One of the servants was kind enough to tell you about it, after hearing that you were asking about what to put on your shelves. You walked along the wooden floors towards the west wing of the castle. Simple, black chandeliers lit with Sukuna’s cursed energy, guided your path in the areas cut off from the rays of the sun. High, domed ceilings made from intricately designed tiles hung above you. Each design was bound to a square bordered by black trim and gold corners. You had seen paintings of previous palaces’ ceilings and the art displayed within greatly differed. Others often showcased aspects of nature brought to life by various colors. These were a dark red with black ink depicting scenes of terror. You didn’t have to look at all of them to know they each depicted acts of violence Sukuna prided himself on.

The door to the library was different from the door to your chambers. Yours was made of black stained wood that was divided into sections by metal bars that linked in the middle to make Sukuna’s seal. This one was made with Zelkova wood left in its natural amber color, adorned with matching knobs lining the edges, and Sukuna’s seal burned into the middle. It was quite pretty, really. You grabbed the ornate metal handle and granted yourself entry to the room beyond. You were met with a room bigger than you had expected and absolutely packed with books. It had shelves lining the perimeter as well as in rows throughout the room. There were even piles of books stacked in different open spaces tied together by red string. You hadn’t thought of Sukuna to be one to care much about reading, but you were obviously wrong.

You walked inside and started looking around. The amount of books felt a little overwhelming, some were even in languages you didn’t recognize. Underneath the books, on the edge of the shelves, there were categories carved into the wood. Currently you were in politics, which you couldn’t care less about, so you wondered out. You eventually found the science section with books ranging from anatomy to topics you had never heard of. You grabbed and looked at a few before reshelving them. Their contents either evading your comprehension or boring your interest.

Eventually, you found a book with what you were looking for. It was a book on the energy within everything and the connection between it all. Most recently, you had been working on various techniques that would allow you to morph something’s makeup just by tapping into its energy. The cursed technique you had perfected prior to leaving home allowed you touch any item and reshape it at will. You could combine and divide energies to suit whatever purpose you needed. You could even change your own energy to mirror another. Paired with your technique to slip into people’s minds, it would be a very useful infiltration tactic. You had experimented in a few different ways when trying to create a curse that could use it, but it proved to be difficult. They always ended up lacking intelligence or imagination. You had tried using your prior methods when creating intelligent curses, but it became tricky to stabilize this time since the curse would be able to fully change their own makeup. They always ended up screwing themselves up beyond repair.

While you were there you decided to look around at other topics. You got a book rooted in fantasy that seemed promising for when you got bored or wanted to escape for a little bit, and a few volumes of martial arts you hadn’t heard of.

By the time you were done, your hands were full and your servants quickly offered their hands instead. You were about to walk out when Geto entered the room. You were behind a few aisles of books, so you couldn’t see him, but you could tell he knew you were here from the way he beelined towards you. Within a few seconds he was turning into the aisle you stood in.

“Wow, I didn’t know your kind could read”, he said while walking up towards you with a smile.

“Wow, you’re openly admitting you don’t know something so common,” you joked back while giving him a very judgy once over, “talk about embarrassing.”

He raised his eyebrows and opened his mouth to say something before tongueing the inside of his cheek while smiling. He raised his hands in submission, “Got me there. So what are you reading?” He approached your servants before picking up the fantasy book you chose, which you quickly grabbed from him and hid. It one-hundred precent was a dirty little book to help you through your dry spell and you didn’t need him knowing that. He had read it before though so he knew exactly what was in the contents.

“Not really any of your business, is it,” you asked while withholding the book from him.

“I suppose not, but I will tell you that this one has better sex scenes”, he says while handing you the book he had brought in.

You cleared your throat of the slight embarrassment you felt while accepting the book he held out. “I guess I will be the judge of that.”

“I guess so,” he says while smirking at you. “How have things been? I heard you trained with the King this morning and it ended with both of you smiling. I guess all is forgiven or what?”

Your servants all suddenly became very interested in the books around them and the shelves they were on. You weren’t worried about them hearing though. You had been in their minds and knew they didn’t dare gossip about anything that involved the King.

“I don’t know. He seemed really different today, like the total polar opposite of yesterday. I am pretty sure he encouraged me to yell at him and even joked a bit with me. He might’ve been nice just to learn what I was doing and get me to teach him, though. He did threaten to dismantle my other hand, but that was about the only thing he did that matched with yesterday. His threat didn’t really seem to carry any weight behind it. Like I said, I think he was just saying stuff to get me to break formality and yell at him. Not that it really matters I guess. Trying to find out why he does the things that he does seems like a moot point.”

“You joked with the King…and he joked back,” he asks, blinking a few times.

“Yea, I didn’t know he had it in him either but it happened all the same. He seems to be full of surprises I guess”, you said as you lifted your foot behind you and used the toe of your shoe as an anchor while you rolled your ankle around.

“Well I suppose. It is definitely the first time I have heard of it. I mean I have heard of him sadistically joking with his victims, but not in a casual setting”, he says. “But I am glad things went better for you today.” He smiles at you again before awkwardly standing there looking around.

“Me too, and thank you for checking in. I appreciate the gesture. But I won’t take up anymore of your time. I am sure there is a new smutty book waiting to be read by you”, you said with a smile while straightening your back and starting out of the aisle.

“Don’t forget to let me know which one you liked better”, he shouts after you.

“Will do”, you shout back before exiting.

You spent the rest of the day reading the book on energy you had gotten. You considered reading your fantasy books to find out what scenes Geto was talking about, but you figured you should at least start the book you had originally gone for. You had gotten about a quarter of the way through before dozing off in a fitful nap.

The area around you was damp and cold. Your skin had goosebumps shaking across it as you held your knees. Your whole body hurt. Your jaw was sore from being forced open for a prolonged amount of time, your lips were swollen and scabbing over from being bitten and slapped, your wrists and shoulders hurt from being unnaturally bound for so long, your legs were sore from being pushed beyond the limits of your flexibility, and your throat burned from how many screams forced their way out of the acid stained walls.

There was movement across from where you laid. You couldn’t see anything but you could see her. It was like she was inside and outside of your mind at the same time. Her eyes were black voids that seemed to hungrily devour the light like an all consuming abyss split into two. Her jaw hung from her face, only attached by skin that was stretched taut. Inside her mouth seemed to be stained black as if a fire had burned soot stains into it. Her hair was as black as her eyes and seemed to wriggle and writhe like thousands of dark little worms suspended in the air yet forced down by gravity. She comes to you often these days. At first, you were scared of her and pushed her away. Now, you feel comfort in not being alone in your cage. She never spoke to you…not until that day.

Hands reached all over your body in the dark as men laughed. You were just an object of release for them. You weren’t human to them, what you felt didn’t matter. Your cries had died in your throat a while ago as you disassociated from your body. There you found her. Somewhere dark within your mind, she was standing with her hand reaching out. Anytime, you allowed yourself to fall inside that void that grew within you, swallowing up more and more of you with every inch it gained, you found her. Always with her hand outstretched. Always waiting patiently for the day you inevitably took it. You knew nothing would be the same if you took it. You knew you truly wouldn’t be human anymore. But maybe that wouldn’t be so bad. Because you really fucking hated humans in all honesty.

That day you couldn’t take it anymore. All you wanted to do was stab the men around you until they weren’t even recognizable. You wanted to make them pay. To experience all of the pain and fear you felt because of them. You wanted not to be weak anymore. So you allowed the abyss to swallow you, to make you forget everything about yourself as you put your hand into hers and she smiled. Pointed teeth braised in thick black liquid peeked through her lips, the gelatinous liquid started gushing through her teeth and onto the ground as she continued to smile. You didn’t notice but your face was mirroring hers as blood flooded from your mouth. You don’t remember how it got there but you know it tasted of freedom. A taste you wanted to experience again and again.

You awoke with drool dribbling out of your mouth and pain in your neck from falling asleep at your dining table. You slowly sat up, groaning as your muscles announced their dissatisfaction with your decision. You put your hands on your lower back and pushed on it as you arched backwards. You felt pops ripple up your spine before rolling your neck to allow it to pop too. You hadn’t dreamt of that day in quite some time. The day you first used cursed energy. When you told the Mother of the girl she chuckled. She told you that cursed energy can manifest in everyone differently. Yours had built up over years of agony and inadvertently created the technique you first learned— transmutation. Your thoughts of wanting to be stronger than you were and looking like you felt mixed with the built up energy had created an evolved form of you. It was then she told you how big of a part thought played in the creation of cursed energy.

You hadn’t used that form in so long. One of the conditions for using it was to release all of the cursed energy you had stored. The more you had, the stronger the form was. You still used a decent amount of energy for general things and creating curses, but you also stored a great amount. Like any you collected from draining other sorcerers was immediately stored. There was another downside to it as well. It made you go more feral than you could control. Once you turned, you destroyed everything and everyone in your path until you depleted your energy and changed back.

The last time you used it, you blacked out for 2 weeks and turned 12 towns into utter bloodbaths. You had lost yourself in your anger and blacked out. When you had finally awoken, you were being wheeled away in a wheelbarrow full of pieces of human remains. Authorities had thought you were a dead body with how covered in blood you were. You laid in the pile you were dumped in for a few days, eating the remains around you to regain your strength. Once able, you blindly stumbled into the snow. You walked until you found a hut with a man living in it. You knocked on the door crying and told him you had been attacked and that you were blind and scared. He took you in without a second thought. Afterall, you were just a harmless child crying for your “recently lost” parents. He was so nice to you. He sat you in front of the fire and helped wipe all of the blood off of you while trying to console you. He even gave you new clothes and respectfully turned around when you went to change. But when he turned away from you a hatchet appeared in his skull. You remember the sounds he made as he fell to the floor, the fear and confusion clouding his energy as he looked up at you. You ripped the hatchet from his head and chopped him into pieces. Some of him you set up as bait for other animals, and some of him you ate when no other food was available. There, you lived a quiet life for a few months until the Mother stumbled upon you. Thinking back on it, you were a monster before she ever turned you into her spawn. Maybe that was why she chose you.

You walked towards the training grounds the next morning just as you said you would. The air was brisk with a slight chill, which was odd since it was summer. Its oddness became rationalized as you sensed Uruame’s energy in the air. You turned the corner to see them there already staring you down.

As you stepped through the archway leading into the area you could sense cursed energy rushing towards you. You jumped from where you stood and grabbed onto the ridge of the arch as the ground below you turned into ice.

“Y’know there are better ways to ask me to leave. Like with words for example”, you said with great annoyance. It was way too early for this bullshit. They better just be playing around for their sake because you were not in the mood for an actual fight.

Ice shot up from the ground, right for you. Tch. Does this asshole really think they can hit me? You pulled yourself to the realm between and watched them from it. They had surrounded themselves with ice while looking around for you. Their hands were poised and ready to attack when you appeared. Normally, you would have played with them, allowed them to feel like they had a chance of winning before squashing them like the bug they were. Not today. Not after being stuck in memory lane last night. You were hungry for blood, it had been days since you killed. Days full of you taking hits and putting up with bullshit you shouldn’t have to.

You appeared in front of them, their sad blockade of ice shattering from the force of your energy being unleashed. Your hand shot to their throat, fingertips digging into the skin as you lifted them from the ground. Their eyes widen as they told their ice to impale and shred you, but it didn't listen. Your energy was already flooding their body and taking control of their technique. They could feel it. They started letting out screams as their own technique bloomed inside their blood. It tore through vessels and skin as the shards of ice grew.

“I told you to use your words. Now why did you—“, you felt Sukuna’s hand about to grab but you pushed him away with your energy.

You turned from Uruame to see Geto by where you entered, the ice still on the ground spiking upwards. Sukuna landed on his feet after being repelled and looked fucking pissed.

“WHAT THE FUCK DO YOU THINK YOU’RE DOING, BRAT?”, he screamed at you as he started pushing against the force field around you. His steps were small and slow, but they continue towards you all the same.

“ME? YOUR ASSHOLE SERVANT ATTACKED ME AND WOULDN’T RESPOND WHEN I ASKED WHY!”, you screamed back at him.

“I don’t think she is lying, King Sukuna. Her trail puts her here and jumping up there before appearing where she is now. I think we should all just calm down and talk about this”, he said while trying to diffuse the situation.

Sukuna looks at Geto and the ice he was referring to. He didn’t think you would attack Uruame without being provoked, but he didn’t know why Uruame would attack you either. He knew they didn’t like you but they had never acted without permission before. “(Y/N) let Uruame go so we can settle this”.

You looked at him then back at Uruame. They were bleeding from multiple places where the ice had torn through them, and one of their eyes was just a frozen ball waiting to shatter. You wanted to finish the job. Wanted to see their insides splayed open for you like a present.

“(Y/N), please”, Geto said as he looked at you with pleading eyes.

You rolled your eyes and sighed before releasing Uruame to fall to the ground. The ice dissipated and your barrier dropped. Sukuna appeared between the two of you in an instant. You gave you a look radiating murder before bending down to Uruame’s level.

“Did you start this”, he asked while propping them up.

“They aren’t good for you. You haven’t been yourself since you heard about them. You had me stalk them for months before finally summoning them. And now you allow their insolence and disrespect. We know nothing about her or what she is and yet you welcome her into your palace and allow her to roam free. She—“, Sukuna slammed their head into the ground.

Geto winced at the sight of his comrade’s skull getting smashed, but you smiled. The sight and sound his skull made as Sukuna crushed it lit a fire deep within you. Pesky piece of shit. You only wished it was you who got to do it.

“(Y/N)”, Sukuna said.

“Yes, King Sukuna?”

“Don’t let them die”, he said, shooting you a cold look promising similar treatment if you fail.

“Yes, King Sukuna”, you replied with a smile allowing your power to seep back into them and regenerate their wounds.

Sukuna smashed in their face with all four of his fists over and over before stomping and jumping on their body. He then began grabbing and tearing away pieces of flesh, some eaten by the mouth that had appeared on his hand. Every now and then he would even dip his head down and bite out chunks of them. He ripped off their arms and legs, watching as they regrew in an instant. He even ripped off their head before beating them with it. He looked like a wild animal as every inch of his skin became covered in blood. The display stoked that fire inside you until liquid started to pour out of your lower lips. Sukuna’s pants started to bulge as his own arousal grew from tearing apart and eating his friend. His insults and the sound of Uruame’s flesh squelching and bones snapping filled the air. Blood pooled around you like an ever growing river. This goes on for at least an hour and neither you nor Geto moved an inch. You both watched what happened to people the King actually likes when they cross him. Normally, it was Sukuna healing them while beating them. Now that he didn’t have to bother with it he was going all out.

His assault finally comes to an end and he just stares down with disdain at Uruame before looking at you. He walked over to you and gripped your jaw with his bloody hands. “Geto, take Uruame and leave. No one is allowed to enter this area until I say otherwise. Go. Now.”

Geto briefly looked at you before picking up Uruame and quickly leaving the area.

As soon as they’re gone, Sukuna started petting your hair with one hand, another still gripping your chin, one holding your hip with his thumb rubbing patterns into it, and the last one on the small of your back. “You did such a good job keeping them alive for me. I never had so much fun torturing someone. They all would’ve died somewhere in the middle of it when I stopped concentrating on healing them”, he said while looking you in the eyes.

“What did they mean when they said you stalked me for months”, you asked as you rested your hands on his forearms.

He sighed and looked down for a minute. “It wasn’t in a weird way. I just wanted to know if you were the real deal. I had heard of a sorcerer not restrained by technique that worked as a contract killer. I wanted to see what all you could do and when I was confident you were strong, I had Geto go retrieve you. But I still needed to see for myself, so that’s why I sparred with you in the throne room. But you proved your worth to me”.

He pulled you close to him, his face hovering over yours. “You proved you were made for me. Made to be able to take my strength, made to empower me, made to show me my potential in cursed energy, made for me to bite, made to challenge me.”

His lips were right against yours now. Even through all of Uruame’s blood you could smell his scent. Your eyes flickered between his as your pulse quickened from the unfolding moment. You could feel his dick pressing against your abdomen from how close you were, making both of your breaths grow short and quick. You knew this was crazy. He was covered in blood and still had pieces of flesh in his teeth. Not to mention you were pretty sure you hated him. But none of that seemed to matter at the moment. You trailed your hands up his forearms, blood coating them as they slid across his skin until you reached the back of his neck. You ran your nails across his nape and he pressed his forehead against yours while letting out a groan.

“Show me how you’re made for me. Prove to me that you're worthy of me. Make me yours”, you whisper against his lips while drawing shapes on his nape. “Please Sukuna.”

The noise that leaves his throat from you begging him is so low and guttural it sounds like it belongs to the hells. His arms lift you up to wrap around his waist as his mouth crashes into yours. His teeth nip and bite at your lips and tongue before sucking on them. You moan into the kiss as your mouth follows in suit and your hips roll into him. Your hands pull him closer to you but its not enough. There’s still too much in between you. Normally you would enjoy slowly undressing him and teasing each part of his body as its revealed but you were wayyy past going slow. The next minute you feel his skin bare of clothes and against yours. You push your breasts flush against his chest, blood coating them, and moan at the sensation it gives your nipples.

“My naughty girl, who gave you permission to undress your King”, he says while pulling your hair back to get a good look at you.

The force he pulled your head with was enough to rip anyone else’s off, but there yours was moaning out in pleasure from it. “I did. You were taking too long, Sukuna”, you said before gasping as you finally looked down. “You-you have two”, you asked in shock. Although you really shouldn’t be shocked since he has two of everything else. You couldn’t help but lick your lips at the thought of him burying them inside you. Fucking your insides until they molded to his shape.

He laughs at your cute little question before slapping you right in the face once and then once on your left ass cheek which provokes a stuttered moan from your throat. “Such a fucking brat talking to me like that”, he says before he shoves one of his fingers into your mouth and grabs your right breast. His mouth appearing and biting on your nipple, making you moan again for him. He slaps your ass in the same spot and this time it is so hard that the sound echoes throughout the premises. The pain shooting through your body makes you scream as your cum drips onto him. Blood dribbles from where your skin broke and you bite his finger. Not completely off but enough that you’re lapping up a mix of his and Uruame’s blood. “Talking to me so casually—“ he slaps it again,”biting my fucking finger—“ another slap has blood absolutely gushing from the spot and tears swelling in your eyes. You decide to get even and bite his finger clean off letting him watch you swallow it. A piece of him inside you. You then suckled on the nub left behind while giving him a bloody smirk.

He groans at the sight as his finger regrows back in your mouth. Fucking hell he didn’t think he had ever seen something so hot. You literally just ate a piece of him because he made your ass bleed. He starts laughing before turning you around and slamming you down into Uruame’s blood. The side of your head and neck cracked from the force of the impact before healing immediately. The crack in the stone remained, though. Your ass hung in the air as his cocks rubbed against it.

“Crazy bitch you really just ate my fucking finger”, he says with awe in his voice. You try to push yourself up but the hand tangled in your hair keeps your face firmly planted down. He couldn’t have you running away, he was just about to finally taste you. “Keep your head down and I will touch you where you want me to, but if you move it I swear to god I will bite your clit off.”

“Please ‘kuna. I’ll be good just please touch me”, you whined out shamelessly. You could feel your slick dripping out of your cunt into the pool of blood. Your body was so needy for his touch it was driving your mind insane.

Again with your informalness he thought. He would correct you if your voice whining out his name didn’t drive him animalistic. He released your head and got down behind your ass. You were so fucking wet for him. He reached his finger out to gather some of your cum and your ass twitched immediately. So sensitive for him. “Stay still, brat”, he warned. Two of his hands grabbed your ass while the other two reached under you and tugged on your tits, fingers pinching and pulling on your nipples. Wispy little whimpers flew out of your mouth but you were good and stayed still for him.

He licked a stripe from your clit to your asshole that had your eyes rolling and a whine coming out. He gave you a few more long, slow licks before plunging his tongue into your pussy.

“Yes, fuck, Kuna, yes just like that”, you moaned out as he stretched you open with his tongue. It took all of your control to keep from rolling your hips into his face. “Mmm Kuna feels s’good. Makes me want to ride your face until you’re drowning in my juices.”

Fuck that would be so hot. He wanted to make you cum until you were a fountain for him. He let a groan rumble out inside which had your walls squeezing hard around his tongue. God you were taking his tongue so well, squeezing it and trying to pull it deeper inside you. He couldn’t wait to feel you do that around his cocks. He removed his tongue from your sopping pussy which made you whine before he started licking your ass. You started panting at the sensation, pussy clenching at the lack of attention which didn’t go unnoticed by him. He stuck a blood soaked finger into you, and at the same time, forced his tongue into your ass. Stars took over your vision as your toes curled up. He worked both of them in sync before summoning his mouth to assault your clit too. You started screaming out his name as your thighs began to shake from the overload of pleasure. He added another finger to your pussy and one to your ass and started spreading you, preparing you for his cocks. He knew you would be able to take all 10 girthy inches and still beg for more. That’s because you were made for him. Made to be able to endure whatever sadistic fantasies he had. His perfect girl. He started licking off the blood that was still on your ass and groaned from the feeling that washed over him while he fucked your holes with his fingers and second mouth. He couldn’t wait much longer.

He took his fingers out of you before crawling over you, pushing you down with his body. His free hands pulled your ass apart to help spread your holes for him as he positoned his cocks against them. You could feel that the size was too big but you didn’t care. You would adjust and take him. You wanted it so bad. His face was beside your ear, one of his hands moved the hair away from your neck as he peppered kisses along it. “It’s going to hurt pretty girl, but you can take it. I know you can. I’m not going to be gentle because I know you can,” he said in between kisses and then he was in. It felt like you were splitting into two as you screamed out in a mixture of pain and pleasure. He was slamming into you at a brutal pace just like he promised as he rested his head against your turned cheek. Before long, you were arching your body into him and meeting his thrusts as you both let out absolutely feral noises from the sensations. You were so fucking full you felt like you were going to burst, you could feel him pushing against your cervix and ripping open your asshole but it felt amazing. You didn’t want it to ever stop. You wanted him to fill you up like this forever. It was so warm under him and the sounds your blood covered bodies made when they slapped together was beautiful. You could hear him panting, groaning, and growling above your ear as he used you. But it wasn’t enough, you wanted more.

“Kuna-ah-ahh wan it deeper. Wanna watch you go inside me. Want you to mark me while your tear up my insides pleaseee”, you said as your vision blurred from the blood seeping into your eye that was against the ground.

How could he say no to such a request? Without missing a beat he pulled out, flipped you over, grabbed under your thighs to bend you in half, and resumed his brutal pace. His cocks now reached even deeper spots inside you. His tip went through your cervix as you screamed and tears started falling from your eyes.

“Kun gon cum, please, wan cum on your cocks, sssukuunaaa”, you begged in broken moans as your body started spasming. Your holes clenching around him so tight he broke the stone under you with his fist to keep himself from cumming.

“Cum for me brat, cover my cocks with your slutty fucking cum”, he said as he put his hand around your throat and squeezed. You body was shaking so hard he had to hold your hips with two hands so he could keep fucking into you. His own orgasm creeping up right behind yours as your holes started milking him for all he was worth, as if begging him for his cum. He pushed your mouth open with his fingers, blood smearing across your face as he did, and spit inside it before slapping you. You clenched even harder as you started cumming around him again from the defiling act, your eyes rolling back from the overstimulation. He bit your neck as he finally poured his cum into you. Long ropes of white splashing against your walls and pooling inside of your holes. Your holes that were too tight around him for his cum to escape. You could feel as it began to accumulate inside of you. Making your insides stretch further to take it all without tearing. Pain radiated from your neck as he drank from you. Your blood restoring his stamina as his cocks got even harder inside of you. It made your mind go completely blank as incessant moans poured from your mouth.

He pulled his teeth from your skin and licked the area, tasting you and Uruame as he cleaned it. He took a few breaths before moving himself over your face. You were looking at him through blurry eyes completely glazed over with lust. He brushed your hair out of your sweaty, blood covered face as he showered you with kisses. His hips started moving in slow controlled strokes. Letting you both feel every single sensation in greater detail. You could feel exactly where he was inside you and how your insides closed in his absence only for him to open them right back up when he sank back inside you. You held onto his arms as he kissed you. When he pulled his head back you both looked down to watch how he slid in and out of you. His cocks were covered in your blood and both your cum. You wrapped your legs around him and moved your arms up to run through his hair. Lightly tugging on some spots, and running your nails over others. The sensation had him melting into you. He had never been touched like this, never let anyone. And he sure as hell had never fucked anyone like this. But with how heightened his senses were from drinking your blood, he didn’t think he could go any faster without immediately cumming. And he wanted this to last. He felt so connected to you like this. He could feel the energy in both of your bodies swirling together. Dancing around each other before intertwining into one. When they did, he started to feel everything you felt. Your pleasure seeped into him as his seeped into you. He never believed in heaven, but if it existed, this was it.

You leaned your head up as you pulled on him for extra stability and started kissing along his jaw. “I wanna be in your lap Sukuna.”

“Okay, pretty girl”, he said as he lifted you up on top of him. No rebuttal, no anger, just compliance. In that, moment, he just wanted to make you feel good.

Your chests were pressed together and your hands rested on his shoulders as you rolled your hips across his lengths. His hands cradled your back and face, his thumbs rubbing patterns on both. Foreheads pressed together as you both watched you ride him. Only stopping to kiss each other or mark each other’s necks. Marks you both held off on healing for the time being. You started teasing him by pulling him out to just the tips and twirling your hips around them.

“That’s no fair, I don’t remember teasing you like that”, he said with a very uncharacteristic pout.

“I guess I am just a bit meaner than you then, hmm?”

“Ohohohh is that so now?”

“Yes, it is”, you said before kissing him.

He kissed you back while rubbing his thumb along your jaw, “Brat.”

You two fucked the day away in that spot. The spot where you had watched him tear apart his subordinate right before. By the time you two were done, there wasn’t a single spot of skin not covered in their blood.

Notes: …don’t judge me for this chapter ikik shhh. Extras v v

- So when using positive energy or reversed energy, there are times where it doesn’t work because the two people are not compatible. Know this, it would be easy to assume there are some people who have energies that are very compatible. Sukuna is obviously a sorcerer like no other, but so is the reader. They are the only two on their level, which draws them closer. Their crazies match each other. Is it toxic? Again, yes this is Sukuna. But with their personalities, it would be wild for it not to be at least a little toxic.

- Sukuna had recently learned to truly feel his innate energy and not just his cursed energy which are very different. In this chapter when he drinks from the reader, it opens a connection between the two innate energies, one that he couldn’t feel before. It allowed them to both feel everything about each other and genuinely experience connection. This doesn’t happen anytime he ingests someone, it only happens because their energies are the same. Sukuna was originally talking out of his ass about the reader being made for him to make them feel special and delude them. He only partially believed they were that useful to him. But after connecting with them, he fully believes it. He will still be a bipolar asshole though because he doesn’t know any different. Yet.

- Sukuna was pissed at Uruame but would actually consider their punishment to be light. It only lasted for an hour and they’re perfectly fine now. He would punish anyone this violently for genuinely crossing him, especially the reader. It would actually be wore for them because he needs them to be good and listen to him. He needs them in general which means they need to not be undermining him. It would be embarrassing for him if they constantly did it so he would take his time upon the first incident. Making sure they remembered it and wouldn’t act out again. And the whole time he’d tell them how much he cared about them and was doing this so that they could be better.

Taglist: @missroro

[nu11lar]

𐚁֙࿐ losing control arataki itto︱ maybe teasing him too much wasn't such a good idea...

𝓬𝓸𝓷𝓽𝓮𝓷𝓽𝓼 ... fem! reader, feminine petnames (baby, slut, etc.), pwp (without plot), handjob, teasing, overstimulation, edging, mating press (includes other previous positions but they're not described to the story), size kink, belly bulge, rough sex, cervix fucking, you grab his horns while he pounds into you 🤭, dirty talk, slight dacryphilia, dumbification, faint mentions of pregnancy, lmk if i miss any !

ପ₍ᐢ𝓪𝓾𝓽𝓱𝓸𝓻'𝓼 𝓷𝓸𝓽𝓮 ᐢ₎ଓ ... this drabble or fic is inspired by this (nsfw) audio over here, azeru's patreon is so juicy it makes my punani throb over and over. esp this one omfg hear this audio before u read it idc it's so ughhjdfjsjkskj

"stop teasin' me baby," he rasped while his gaze averted down, seeing you give his cock slow and deliberate pumps before your thumb presses firmly but gently down his red tip. thin and thick ropes of his previous orgasm dripped down his length and balls, with each stroke and pump you give to him leaves his body into shambles, lewdly moaning out your name and his back arching in pure bliss was a balm to your shell.

his breath caught his throat once your strokes grew quicker, his claws digging down to the soft pillows that were sprawled around the bed,"ohfuck- don't stop.." a low groan bubbled within his throat, throwing his head back against the headboard as his body jerked. a soft giggled elicited from your lips, seeing his fucked out state from just a few handjobs,"what if i stopped?" you asked coyly, a playful glint capturing your eyes as itto grew a little frustrated,"don't stop- m' bein' serious baby... d-don't stop," he tried hard enough to sound stern and to at least make you obey his requests, but he sounded so pathetic; his cracked whines and whimpers only fueled your desire to tease him further.

you felt in awe, enjoying such an erotic scene that landed upon your eyes. his reactions evident to your touch as his lower abdomen were being left with strings of cum as his cock was sheen with slick and pre,"gonna cum, gonna cum.." he whimpered, his breath quickening as his chest rose and fell at a fast pace,"hmm? oni s'gonna cum already?" you cooed teasingly but all that you received was a rumbling groan that was heard from his mouth, he chewed down his lower lip that little points of his canines were shown. just before he was about to reach his sweet release, he felt something completely neglect his starving cock, your hand pulling out of his length as you scooted back from him; acting like as if you were leaving him,"wh- were you goin' ?!" he whined, looking at you with a confused and a frustrated expression. you only giggled in response, thinking everything is funny and that you would get the hang of this, big big mistake.

"oh no you're not," he mumbled and just as you were about to 'leave', he pounced over you, his beefy and broad figure covering half of your body as you were now pinned against the mattress. who's laughing now? the roles switched suddenly, him now being under control for all of this which is now your turn to give in your submission to him,"you're not gonna leave 'till you make me cum," he said with a low growl, one of his hands holding up his leaking cock as a way to show you what you're going to deal with the next couple of hours.

-

"moremoremore, o-ohhh my god.." he chanted repeatedly, his relentless thrusts quickening its pace as his nails dug deep into your sensitive flesh as he raised up your legs more, your knees pressing against your chest as he positioned himself in a different angle. his cock hitting all the sweet spots that make your spongy walls tighten around his length and to make your body coil in an overwhelming amount of pleasure. cracked moans and whines escape your lips as you felt his tip bulge through your stomach with each deep thrust, making him grab onto your hand and press your fingers firmly onto your lower abdomen while he continues on his quick pace, "ya feel that? look how deep i am.. fuck-" you felt his cock plunge in and out of you as sticky juices overflowed your drooling cunt from the other postions that he did before.

missionary, doggy style, downward doggy, prone bone, cow girl, reverse cowgirl, almost all of the positions that you could possibly think of were recreated by him. your brain couldn't process any longer and your thoughts were turned into mush, not thinking of anything but his thick cock just stretching your folds and folding your body like a flip phone. pearls of cum smeared all over your pussy as it dripped down your ass and onto the sheets, breeding you countless times that you just might actually be pregnant,"i'm gonna breed you, and breed you and... ohh fuckk! tighten around me again yeah?" he chuckled dryly as he leaned his upper body over to press his chest against your bouncing breasts,"mmph!- s'too muchh! fuuck gonna cum againn!" your hands were searching its way for something to grab on, but the only thing you could hold yourself onto was his horns. your fingers gently but quickly wrapped around his so what senstive horns that made him let out a loud gasp,"f-fuck, can't hold on huh?" he rasped as a chuckle escaped his lips, only for him to raise your legs just a bit higher so that he could snuggle himself deeper into your warm cunt.

"ittoo! s'deep..!" you whined, tears pooling down your cheeks as his tip assaulted your cervix. everything was so messy, so hot and sticky that the mirror of your vanity could practically fog up,"gonna cum inside you over and over again yeah? wanna make you a mommy.." itto sounded breathless, like he was running a whole track field,"gonna make this little cunt remember the shape of my dick, a-and... ohmygoddd," he moaned once he felt your walls hugging his cock tightly again, his thrusts stuttering each time as he felt close to his high,"gonna cum, gonna cum... fuck!- cumming s'muchh!" you don't even know what you're saying at this point, blabbering incoherently as desperate crys and pleas fill in his ears while you clearly are begging for release, but this was payback for what you did a few hours ago.

"yeah? y'wanna cum? what if i pull out hmm?" he teased, mimicking the same thing that you did to him while you were stroking his cock,"nonono! please- ohmygod don't pull out ittoo!" you rolled your hips, trying to reach in for that sweet release before his thrusts grew sharper and more forceful,"yeaah, you fuckin' slut... want me to fill ya up yeah? you want that?" a mocking expression was evident in his face, nails digging into your flesh as he ravaged your insides, your cunt growing senstive as you kept on repeating "gonna cum!".

with one final thrust he managed to spill his seed inside your, filling you to the brim again. a low growl elicited from his throat, closing his eyes shut as the pleasure loomed over the both of you, bringing eachother to the bink of ecstasy as everything turned into a blurr. a squeal escaped your mouth and it was music to his ears, your body tensing up from the pleasure as the smell of sex was present within the room,"look at you, ohh yesyesyes... let it out baby, mhm," he reassures as he kept on rocking his hips back and forth, stimulating your aftershocks. you looked absolutely destroyed, hair sprawled in the pillows, chest heaving heavily, body trembling and shivering with each caress and touch he could give, and your insides feeling overly sensitive.

after itto collected himself he looked down at you. you still were in shambles, a pure, filthy mess just for him to see. he chuckled as worry washes over him a little bit, did he go too overboard? was it actually too much for you to handle?

he felt your grip on his horns loosen, your arms falling back down into the mattress like a noodle as you were still catching your breath,"a-are you okay? i didn't go too far, did i?" he asked with slight concern, his big hands massaging your hips as he tried to ease your body after such an intense moment,"n-no... m' fine.." you managed to get those words out of your mouth as itto let out a relieved sigh,"thank god, did it hurt or anything?" he smiled softly, his body relaxing as he swallowed in your expressions. even though you were a complete mess you were still beautiful from his point of view, you chuckled lightly from how worried he was which only made you pull him in for a soft kiss. he was taken aback from the sudden move but he found himself melting to your touch, but... he grew hard, again.

he hissed in pleasure as he could feel his erection growing,"look at what you did, makin' me hard again from just a kiss.." itto found the situation silly, but of course he could go in for another round of pounding info you, only if you want to though. your eyes averted down to his throbbing cock, seeing his tip leak with pre-cum, you gulped nervously now having to deal with who knows what round of getting fucked dumb,"c'mere..." he beckoned with his hand, pulling you close to him until your tits stick against his sweaty chest. his hips moved slowly and deliberately, one of his hand wrapped around you as the other held up your thigh to reach in deeper,"i'll be gentle, i promise..." he whispered softly, but you know damn well he'll be rough like he was before. nodding gently, you were sure you'll have to hold on tight against him, for the last time.

"i promise my ass.."

© nu11lar 2023 - do not plagiarize, translate, copy, or steal my work. all credits to the writing go to me and me only.

[itsbenedict]

alright, i just got around to finishing Dungeon Meshi- and damn if it didn't stick the landing!

there's a lot to recommend in this manga. first- it's extraordinarily fucking funny. it does not forget that it's a comic, and consistently has great visual gags even when something deeply fucked up and serious is happening.

and it fires on all other cylinders, too- the character designs are great, the worldbuilding is intricate and believable and does a lot of interesting things with standard fantasy tropes, the main cast is likable and has a great dynamic, the story keeps a lot of plates spinning without getting up its own ass or forgetting the details...

but the thing that really impresses me about Dungeon Meshi- the thing that sticks out as something it does uniquely well- is the theming.

Dungeon Meshi is about hunger and eating. it is about those things, hardcore. just about every plot point and every character dynamic is about that theme, approached from a dazzling array of different angles. it's got plenty to say about like, actual food and cooking, sure- but it also gets into the nature of desire, the cycle of predation, differing personal tastes, taking the other into oneself, satiation vs motivation... it makes sure that every development in the story is grounded in and building on that theme somehow.

Food is not a gimmick- Food is what the story is about, and not as a bit. this isn't a silly food-world full of food-creatures and food-magic- this is a normal, well-developed fantasy setting, in which a story is being told that focuses relentlessly on the relationship of the characters to food and eating. it manages to feel completely natural, even with so much going on that you'd think the food thing would get in the way. it doesn't get in the way. the story was designed around it, down to the smallest detail.

i think it might be a 10/10 manga! it does everything it sets out to do, completely successfully, with a ton of humor and charm. well-paced, well-drawn, well-written, good ending- i can't think of anything to complain about. highly recommended.

[hotdaemondtargaryen]

TOM GLYNN-CARNEY INTERVIEWED FOR DEADLINE MAGAZINE.

IS THAT YOU LYING IN BED IN EPISODE 5, GETTING THE BURNT VALYRIAN STEEL PEELED OFF OF YOUR BODY?

"It certainly is me."

I THOUGHT YOU WERE DEAD. SO YOU'RE NOT DEAD YET?

"I say a word … unless dead people can speak."

SO YOU ARE SURE AS YOU'RE SITTING HERE, YOU ARE NOT DEAD.

"I’m not dead yet."

LET'S BACK UP TO THE DAY WHEN YOU SHOT THAT EPIC DRAGON FIGHT.

"Well, that day was, in fact, probably about three weeks work, trying to get all these certain angles and these set pieces together."

"It takes a while to coordinate something like that."

"And it was great fun."

"It was a little different."

"The stuff I had to do previously with the big dialogue, the heavy council scenes and the moments in the pub … that felt more theatrical."

"And by theatrical, I don’t mean hammy and stuff, I mean being in theater and doing a play."

"But this [dragon fight] felt very filmic, being strapped into this crane and having this big camera on a long hydraulic arm thrown in your face."

"There were lots of green screens and gray screens and tennis balls on sticks and wind machines."

"It was great."

"It was a big learning curve for me as well, because I’ve never done anything quite as elaborate as that before in terms of CGI work."

DO YOU THINK CRISTON SAW WHAT AEMOND DID TO AEGON'S DRAGON IN THAT FIGHT? THAG AEMOND IS TO BLAME?

"Criston definitely sees Aegon on the ground and Aemond near him with his sword drawn."

"So he can make his own mind up about Aemond’s intentions, which is still unclear even to me."

"I’m not sure the story was there."

"There could be various outcomes."

WHAT HAS IT BEEN LIKE TO PLAY SOMEBODY WHO'S SO BLOODY UNLIKABLE?

"So you’re not team Aegon, then?"

"Who wants to be liked?"

"Where’s the fun in that?"

"I think it’s great playing someone like Aegon because he’s so unpredictable."

"He’s so volatile."

"He’s not just someone who people don’t like."

"He’s a tragic case."

"He’s a complete and utter tragedy of a person, and I feel deeply, deeply sorry for him."

"And I guess that’s kind of why I’ve wanted to investigate his vulnerabilities, his fragilities and his boyishness, all the things that he lacks in his life that kind of inform his decisions, that have given him a certain reputation."

"There’s a lot to unpack in him."

"He’s way more layered and complex than just an unlikable character."

IT'S BEEN AN INTERESTING JOURNEY WATCHING AEGON AND AEMOND BECAUSE THEY'RE OBVIOUSLY BAD KIDS, WHICH DOESN'T MAKE SENSE BECAUSE IT'S NOT LIKE THEIR DAD WAS AN AWFUL GUY. SO WHERE DOES THAT BADNESS COME FROM?

"I dunno."

"I mean, they’ve got Targaryen blood running through them, so there’s going to be an element of madness somewhere."

"I think if they had a different upbringing and a different experience of childhood, things may have been different."

"If they had the treatment that Rhaenyra got, for example, their lives could be different."

"She was very much the golden child."

"She came first."

"She was the one whose picture was on the fridge."

"So yeah, I think that in many ways they’re a product of their history and their upbringing."

"But then again, they’re spoiled as well."

"They’ve never had to work for anything and that can have its effects."

"That’s probably a question for a psychologist, not for me."

WHY DOES HE DISLIKE HIS BROTHER SO MUCH?

"I don’t think he does."

BUT HE WAS SUCH A SHIT TO HIM IN THAT BROTHEL SCENE.

"That’s brothers."

"Aegon was pissed off that for weeks that Aemond has been in the small council and he’d been conniving and plotting with Criston behind his back."

"That kind of clique-ness and keeping Aegon out of the situation for Aemond’s own self-gain, knowing that Aegon would take over the position of King should he get the opportunity, Aegon needed to bring him down a peg."

"I don’t think it come from a place of disliking him."

It comes from a place of being like, ‘you are my little brother, know your place.’

"It’s dismissiveness and also, I’m from Manchester."

"From where I’m from, there are so many sibling relationships that are completely flawed and fractured."

"It’s very normal for me."

"I’m lucky I have a great relationship with my sibling, but it’s very normal and not out of the ordinary at all for you to see two siblings who actively want to hurt each other."

"It doesn’t come from hatred."

"That’s just the way people behave."

[secriden]

so i wonder if anyone else has thoughts about mame's choices regarding sky vs tongrak's stories and how she tackled the complexity of loving and being loved.

when i first heard about love sea, i saw a lot of people say that fortpeat were just re-cast as sky and prapai but with tongrak being older and richer than mahasamut. personally, i think that's a pretty reductionist view because mame explored the idea of being afraid to love and be loved from very different angles and perspective in these two stories.

i will give that there are some similarities on the surface - peat's character does that whole 'pretends to hate it but secretly loves it' thing; the cat-like 'push and pull' thing and fort's character is still a overly excited, loveable golden retriever of a human being with a strong sense of self; also both sky and tongrak have had experiences which make them both fearful of 'love'.

but i think while sky's main fear is being loved, tongrak's is very much a fear of loving.

like, sky's story is very... raw. it's an exposed nerve, tender and painful and present. sky's fear is so immediately tied to his trauma which he's still in the throes of. the betrayal he faced was from the one who claimed to love him and it's telling that sky's first flashback is not triggered by his feelings FOR prapai but by prapai expressing his 'love' for him. this trauma is intimate and physical and close, but that means that the start of his healing journey can begin because of an external force (prapai) giving him that safety but also physically removing the threat. when sky begins to feel safe again, he is able to begin healing.

in contrast: tongrak's trauma is relatively... hmmm, separated (? not the best word but...) on a physical level. it doesn't make it less or even less painful (or more, or more painful), but his fear of love largely stems from how he sees the people immediately around him being hurt by love. he's internalised the idea that love doesn't last. mahasamut starts confessing his feelings pretty early on; like episode 4 mahasamut straight up goes, 'well you can't stop me from loving you' and tongrak's disapproving but he's not triggered. what's the difference between this and episode 10, i think, is that tongrak's actively fighting his own awareness of his feelings for mahasamut. it's why his fight or flight response is triggered by vie calling him out about his feelings in episode 8 and also why he tries to force parameters back into their relationship (my take: i don't care if you love me but i won't love you) in episode 10. but it's also why his healing doesn't actually come from an external force - yes, vie kind of knocks him out of his depressed stupor by hiding the bracelet, but note that tongrak's has that breakdown realisation ('please come back, i'm sorry, i'm sorry, can't you please come back to me? i'm afraid you'll end up hating me (emphasis added) if you love me') before he has that chat with vie. he's already realised that the root of his fear of mahasamut's love isn't the love itself, but the fear that if he admits his own love for mahasamut, it will eventually get betrayed. it's also why even after he resolves that he wants to try at a relationship with mahasamut, he still can't say it. at this point, his father's a non-entity in terms of the fear of him going after his loved ones - he's already been proven a weakling and a coward and also they're physically on the island so removed from jak that it shouldn't be an immediate fear anymore. no; this struggle is completely internal and it's why we linger on his heartbreaking attempts to confess (also, love sea had some pacing issues but i'm so so grateful they took time to show this part; bless fort for insisting on it!). tongrak's afraid to love but he pushes and pushes himself, and finally breaks through and its entirely on his own terms because of his own strength.

i'm not saying sky's weaker for (in a sense) needing someone else to rescue him before he could heal, but i think it just speaks to mame really telling quite a different story of healing with tongrak.

like... have you ever thought you'd healed from something and then it comes back in an unexpected way but then your response to the trigger is also different? the pain is there but it's... at once deeper but also more distant? a deep pulse rather than a high pitched shriek? and the way you go about beginning this new phase of healing is also different? i think that's whats happening here.

it's fascinating how us humans can fear vulnerability in so many ways, so many forms, on so many levels but i think the lesson mame's stories tell is that sometimes it really is worth it to become vulnerable. not with everyone, and not all the time (goodness, that would be foolish). but also, keep holding onto hope. keep looking for that right person, keep being kind to yourself and others. know that it's ok if your healing feels different, if you didn't catch it some point in the past, its not too late.

you'll be ok.

[asha-mage]

WoT Meta: Prophecies, Fated Lovers, and Robert Jordan's knack for finding the nuance underneath the myth

One complaint I've never understood about the way Jordan writes romances is the persistent claim that he over uses the 'prophesied love' trope.

In part for me, I think it's a little bit folks not seeing the forest for the trees. WoT is fundamentally about the relationship between myth and reality: the place where the fallen angel meets the disgruntled academic, the bitter accountant, and the man who never got over being too short. It's a story where the messiah is real and dealing with chronic pain and PTSD from his stigmata. Where a legendary High Queen has to deal with both marching armies to the apocalypse, and the irritating banal realities of being pregnant at the same time. Of course Jordan digs into the idea of prophesied love- it's a huge theme in folklore and mythologies the world over. Jordan wants to dig into what it really means for there to be a person out there that you are destined to be with: that is a match for you, decreed so by the universe itself....and that you get absolutely no agency and choice in choosing. If anything Tumblr, which adores the 'red string of fate'/'soulmark'/'soulmates share pain'/'world is black until you look into your soulmates eyes' (to name a few of the more prevalent ones- some of which Tumblr practically invented), should be super on board for the parade of fated lovers to be found in WoT. It's nothing short of baffling to me that their not more fondly viewed.

And I think that is tied to the follow up complaint: the criticism that Jordan 'uses prophecy love as a replacement for a romance arc'. But that is something that is just. Patently untrue.

Cause the thing is that is how soulmates are often used...in the majority of soulmate au fanfics you find here and on AO3- an excuse to get the really hard part (two characters realizing they are right for each other and love each other, then having the communication skills to articulate that so they can start a relationship) out of the way, so the author can focus on the fluff or angst or other part they and the audience want to get to. And that's fine! But that's not at all what Jordan does. Just like he does with the Prophecies of the Dragon, or Elaida's fortellings, or even just most of Min's viewings- Jordan takes the idea of the prophecy soulmate, this person decreed by some higher power to be Perfect For You and being right about it, and digs deeper, shining it in different lights and attacking it from different angles. Jordan gives the concept of the soulmate teeth, explores the spines and the sharp points of it: is it real love if it's fated and not your choice? Can you trust your own feelings, or are they fate's design working against you as surely as Aphrodite worked against Helen or Eros against Apollo? What is it like, to see someone one day, and know, beyond a shadow of a doubt that you would love this stranger? This question mark? This wildcard?

Rand's relationships with Min and Aviendha, as well as Mat and Tuon's courtship are great examples of this conundrum. Min and Aviendha have completely opposite reactions to the same information that demonstrates their unique strengths and weaknesses as characters and people, while Tuon and Mat's courtship is all about two people who know they will marry trying to figure out what that means, without ever confronting the reality of those prophecies directly.

Min, as befits a Seer who has learned time and time again that her viewings can not be changed, has resigned herself in an almost fatalistic fashion to all of them, and to loving Rand no less. Min knows that she, and two others, will love him, and she accepts its inevitability the same way she accepts Colavere's death, or Logain's glory, or the shattering of the White Tower. What is, is, and there is no sense or point in struggling against it. What concerns her a great deal more is what she doesn't know- she doesn't know if Rand will love her in return, she doesn't know the identity of the other two women who will love him, and she doesn't know if he will fall in love with one or both of the others but not her. Add to that Min's own insecurities about how she stands out and doesn't fit what her society deems 'proper', between her crossdressing, and her offputting manners, and it makes perfect sense that she's worried about making Rand love her. She doesn't mind sharing him- she hates the idea of being in love with a man who doesn't love her in return, of being stuck like 'Elmindreda' of the stories, sighing and pining endlessly for a man instead of being able to act, to take control of her own fate. 

So she takes control: she learns to flirt from Leane, works hard at making herself desirable, and also indispensable: with her visions, her advice, even just her emotional support to Rand when he otherwise has no one else. The irony is that whenever Rand thinks of Min prior to her return to his side in LoC, it's about how much he liked her earthy honesty and lack of wiles: how she was earnest and made him feel at ease, and didn't 'spin his head like a top'- and that's still what he loves about her after they get together: the fact that she isn't fooled by his front, that she sees him clearly and refuses to be driven away the way so many others are so easily. The point is that Min never had to change, and in the ways that matter she didn't- she only thought she did because of her own fatalism.

Contrast that with Aviendha, who, after learning about being destined to fall in love with Rand, does everything in her power to prevent that outcome- because she is a warrior, a soldier, who has never yet met a problem that could not be killed, endured, or retreated from. Aviendha values nothing so much as her honor and her word- she has promised to keep Rand safe for Elayne and what greater act of dishonor could there be in that situation then not just failing in that promise, but despoiling (and she does view it that way) said man herself? So she is awful to him in the hopes of poisoning the well of affection or at least keeping him far enough away that she is never tempted. Aviendha hurls contempt and anger at him, berates him, does everything short of trying to stab him in an effort to make him hate her, and it doesn't work. Despite all her efforts to keep her thorny wall up, they are literally made for each other and can not help but be drawn together time and again. Despite all her efforts to insist, to him and herself, that she hates him, she can not hide entirely that the opposite is true: that she likes him, sees his strength and courage and resilience, and is a little in awe of his generous kindness. 

This is why she vacillates wildly between wanting desperately to get away from him in The Fires of Heaven, to not wanting to leave his side: they are two planets caught in each other's gravity, with about as much chance of escaping each other. When she resorts to the last recourse of a soldier- retreat- and runs headlong into a blizzard that would surely kill her, Rand follows to try and save her life and she can deny the truth that she loves him no longer, nor can she resist taking him, even knowing that to redress that balance, she will one day have to offer her life to Elayne (as she attempts to do in LoC)- though fate still has other plans in store.

But in many ways the apex of this, the relationship that really shows Jordan's deconstruction of this trope, is Mat and Tuon. Before they ever lay eyes on each other, each is given a prophecy that they will marry the other: not that they'll love each other, not that they will be able to trust each other, not even that that will like each other: just that they will marry. And their strange courtship is a result of this knowledge, as each attempts to suss out the other, to try and understand them without ever overplaying their own hand. Each believes that the moment they admit their prophecy they will destroy any chance of real connection or understanding.

To Tuon, if Mat learns he is destined to wed her he gains something she can not abide: power over her, leverage that could be used to subvert her own plans and visions- because nothing matters more to Tuon than control, especially over herself. So she keeps her 'fortune' secret and tries to figure out: What will it mean to be married to Mat? Will he be a pretty trophy? A liability? A threat to her Empire? Will she have to kill him once she gets her heirs?

To Mat, if Tuon learns of his prophecy, she gains the power to take away his freedom, to snare and collar him and bind him to her, because that's how Mat deep down views marriage: as a binding cord, a loss of freedom, and nothing matters to Mat more than freedom. So he keeps his *Finn gained knowledge secret and tries to figure out: What will it mean to be collared by Tuon? Will she she treat him as a pretty and plaything the way Tylin did? Will she try to use him against Rand and the Westlands? Will she make him a slave and sent him to be beaten anytime he disobeys her? Will he have no choice but to fight her one day, this woman he is going to swear to spend his life with? Will he have to kill her the way he did Melindhra, and carry that guilt of mariticide on top of all else?

So the two stay in their strange limbo, because as long as they don't admit it out loud to the other, they can pretend they are still two people forced together by happenstance, and (each thinks) they can continue to try and understand and figure out the other, to find out where this inevitability of their marriage will really leave them, and if there can be even the faintest possibility of love in such circumstances. And that limbo- that protracted refusal to act as if they are under fate's direction- is what allows them to build a genuine bond of trust and respect for each other, and to start seeing the other person with the clarity that love requires. All this, so that when Tuon finally does play her hand, and reveal the truth....it's obvious they've long since fallen in love with each other (even though Tuon won't admit that to herself), and come to trust each other (even though Mat won't admit that to himself).

And the thing is- all of Jordan’s prophecy romances are written like this: from Egwene seeing that loving Gawyn might be both their downfalls in LoC and seeking him out anyways, to Perrin misinterpreting the 'falcon and hawk' viewing and thinking Faile is a danger to him when she's the love of his life, to Galad and Berelain not even being AWARE they’re fated to fall in love and just....do, at wild first sight (Another classic folklore/mythology trope). They also never find out:  always remaining unaware that the Pattern had long since decreed that they would be together and being incredibly funny/annoying about it. The prophesied love is an example of classic Jordan: taking a common, maybe even ubiquitous premise, and asking those complicating questions that allow him to write it as something much more nuanced and interesting and fascinating. And he gets no credit for it, send tumble.

[lno-x]

What about character design in Tristamp?

A person had a question for me, what is it about character designs in tristamp? It's like Vash from Tristamp and Vash from Trimax/98 adaptation are COMPLETELY different characters, and my answer to that is: they are REALLY DIFFERENT CHARACTERS, and I'll explain why right now.

To begin with, I would like to note that I have a great deal of trust in the Orange studio and its co-founder, Eiji Inomoto. Orange is one of the best CG studios in Japan, known for such acclaimed adaptations as "Beastars" and "Land of the Lustrous". These are not just some studio, but a really big guys, and by big I mean that Inomoto's experiments with the frame rate in the film adaptation of Lustrous at one time were a revolutionary thing in animation, which was picked up by the animators of the spiderverse and then that's all led to the beloved dynamic animation of the "Puss in Boots" sequel. I mean, these are THAT big guys. I'm not talking about the fact that Inomoto boosts the development of 3D in the anime industry as much as possible and literally shits from a high bell tower on the fact that everything is spitting with 3D animation purely out of principle.

Okay, the studio is cool, it is unlikely that they will make a bad product, we figured it out, but what about the designs? They don't even look like themselves! Vash does not look like a mop at all, he has lost his leather pants and berets, and looks like some kind of sucker in sweatpants and a windbreaker, and Meryl gives the impression of a schoolgirl who has strayed from the school excursion, instead of the stately lady in caprons, as we used to seeing her. Only Wolfwood hasn't changed much, except that he doesn't know how to tuck his shirt into his pants and has undergone whitewashing (which, by the way, I'm not ironically upset about). So, is that mean designs is bad as hell? Nope. Just because things look different doesn't mean it's inherently worse. Again, remember that tristamp is a REMAKE, and their task is not to stupidly repeat the same thing, but to breathe new life into the franchise, looking at it from a different angle. And I think they did a FUCKING GOOD job on it.

In interviews and at conventions, director Kenji Muto and producer Katsuhiro Takei have repeatedly said that they are big fans of the original manga and the film adaptation of 98, but it was important for them to touch and reveal those aspects of the story that their predecessors did not reach their hands on.

That is why, despite the fact that the Tristamp is very close to the original source (manga), the studio plays out many details differently or even saves them for later, so that the audience can fully experience the development of the characters. Therefore, in Tristamp, everyone looks much younger than their previous versions and / or very different from them.

The easiest way to prove this, however strange and unexpected it may seem, is by the example of Meryl. In the manga and anime 98, we immediately see her as a stately lady with a bunch of derringers under her cloak, but they don’t tell us how she came to this and what led to this. Yes, there is literally a page in the manga about some colleague who told her about self-defense and sort of taught her how to shoot, but finally he is drawn on one frame and, in general, we don’t give a shit about him.

While in Tristamp, this colleague has a name and is one of the most main characters - this is Roberto. Throughout the series, he acts as Meryl's senior mentor, protecting her whenever possible and pulling her out of trouble by the scruff of the neck like a kitten. That is why she looks so youthful and charmingly stupid compared to her previous version. Throughout the series, she literally hits herself with her heel in the chest, saying I AM!!! MERYL!!! STRIFE!!! I AM NOT NEWBIE!!! while Roberto calls her the same way, ignoring all her protests in this regard, and I think this was done for a reason. Specifically, in Tristamp we see her almost in the past, when she has not yet learned to protect herself and be fully responsible for her decisions, although she is very eager to do so. Although Roberto is a character, for the most part he is still a crutch and trigger for the development of Meryl. Through his death and the transfer of HIS gun to her, we see right before our eyes how she changes and from a shy "newbie" turns into the confident Meryl Strife. And after the timeskip, they generally show us the scene of exactly how she becomes the senior and takes Millie under her wing. And by the way, her image visually changes too.

I repeat once again, there was no such development of the character of Meryl in the manga, in the 1998 film adaptation nether.

Orange build her development completely differently and in their own way, despite the fact that she, in fact, is the same Meryl Strife no less than other versions of her. She just a little different character, which goes to the image already familiar to us, passing through kind of other events

The same thing happens with Vash! At first, he doesn't look like himself at all, but towards the end, we see how he takes on a more recognizable image. I think that in fact by the second season they will all mature and look much more "canonical", this can be seen from the concept art but in general

Tristump characters go a different way and get a different development, as happened with Meryl above, therefore, I I think we should perceive them rather as completely different characters that have common roots

And by the way, the studio Orange discussed everything very closely with Yasuhiro Nightou (author of the manga) and he gave her green light and creative freedom, because he saw how reverent people are about their job and want to develop the story. He even drew his and studio designs together!!!

All in all, the tristamp designs are really quite different from the original, but I don't think that's a bad thing, as the studio does it purposefully and cleverly to give them the development that the manga or the '98 film adaptation lacked.

Again, this is my personal opinion, and it’s worth notice here that I’m far from being an old fan and I flew into the fandom just a month and a half ago, so the character design initially did not cause me rejection, like many old fans.

But in this tirade, I tried to be as objective as possible and describe what was what, thanks to come in my ted talk

[stopper-my-heart]

Let's break down the sequence at the end of Heartstopper S1E2 and beginning of S1E3 -- in which Nick is working on coming to terms with the fact that he likes Charlie and Charlie is a boy -- focussing on Nick.

The whole sequence masterfully sets up our understanding of Nick and his headspace via a series of contrasts.

Warning: This is a gif-filled long post with sadness ahead. (If you'd prefer a happier take related to this sequence, take a look at my other post about it.) CW: Short mention of some homophobic practises/issues in the world at the end (those shown in the show at the beginning of S1E3).

The sequence begins with Nick entering his room, but it's filmed through his bedroom window, i.e., from the outside looking in. We don't even clearly see his face. The next shot is of a photo on Instagram of Nick with his rugby friends. To me, this is drawing attention to the fact that Nick is on the outside of his friend group.

The photo itself offers a stark contrast to this idea: Nick is in the centre of his friends, literally being carried and supported by them. His face suggests he's thinking about how the photo doesn't represent reality. Nick is not himself with his rugby friends, and/so they don't really know him. That's not really him, and that's concerning.

There's then a brief flash of Imogen's Insta post, which is a photo of likely herself (the person's head is out of shot) and its caption is helpfully centred for us: "stay true to yourself 🥰🌸". (This deserves its own analysis tbh.) We see Nick slightly smiling at it, but we're physically very far away from him and only move incrementally closer.

Next Nick comes across Charlie's photo from their "snow day". Nick isn't in the photo, but it is a photo that he took, so although it's a public post that in a way "can't" have the two of them together in it yet, he's not completely absent from it. Nick's face is immediately much more smiley.

The comparison between Nick's reactions to the different photos hearkens back to the commentary from Nick's mum earlier in the episode (which she made, y'know, the day the photo Nick just saw was taken):

All signs point to: Nick is not true to himself with his rugby friends, (maybe a little with Imogen,) but he is with Charlie.

Back to Nick-- Seeing Charlie's photo inspires Nick to switch to his camera roll which is already scrolled to his snow day photos implying that he's looked at them another time recently to look at more photos from their snow day, prompting even more smiling and a tiny laugh. Not to mention, now Nick can finally see his genuine self in the photos he's looking at.

I've been focussing on the scenes with Nick so far, but this whole sequence goes back and forth between Nick and Charlie in their respective rooms and is set up as a contrast between them. Let's look at that comparison to understand the full picture with Nick before we continue on.

We see Charlie from a comfortable/typical-to-the-viewer angle, in contrast to our view of Nick which has been almost awkwardly straight on throughout this sequence, whether in front of or behind him.

Charlie is also relaxedly lying in his bed, directly engaging with his friend group to get their input on the situation with Nick (Charlie's on the inside), compared to Nick who is sitting on the edge of his bed, kind of hunched over his phone, scrolling through photos other people are posting (on the outside looking in, and still only looking in via photos that don't tell the full story).

There are further contrasts between them, too, of course. Charlie is confident about his sexuality while Nick is questioning, so he's not confused or scared by liking Nick the way Nick is about liking Charlie.

Charlie is instead feeling hopeful at the prospect that Nick might also be interested, and we leave him for the episode with his cautious excitement about Elle's news that Tara at least isn't into Nick.

Back to Nick-- In the past, Nick's typically experienced or thought about his feelings for Charlie when he's with Charlie or when there are other people around. But this time there's no Charlie to distract Nick from the scariness with his Charlie-ness (and the positive feelings of liking him), and there are no other people around to force Nick to abandon his thoughts or put a mask on.

So when Nick has his moment of fully acknowledging his romantic feelings for Charlie to himself and wondering if that might mean that he's gay (and if so, what does that mean for him?), the contrast with Charlie's fairly straightforward hopefulness and attentive support network highlights how alone Nick is, and with something more daunting.

But Nick is strong and brave, and he's not going to let that stop him.

It's after this that we get the same shot as the first one, from behind Nick, except now the camera is inside the bedroom with Nick and getting ever closer. Nick then even turns toward the camera at the end. The question is: Who is Nick, really, on the inside?

He's ready to find out, even if it's scary.

But because there are no people close to him that Nick could talk to about what's going on with him -- no friends Nick can reach out to about how he's feeling, he doesn't know how his mother would respond to this, Charlie is the one he's having feelings for so he can't really talk to him about it -- Nick uses what seems like the only option open to him: the internet.

And then Nick is confronted with results about violent hate crimes, conversion therapy, opposition to equal rights, discrimination, not to mention some unhelpful quizzes...so much anti-LGBTQIA+ sentiment and the horrible things that that can lead to, all whilst he's having a complete identity crisis. Nick is so alone and afraid, feeling deeply confused and misunderstood -- including misunderstood by himself -- and his internet reading has not only not provided clarity or a sense of being seen, but it's even highlighted that Nick may have reasons to be afraid.

And because Nick doesn't have a support network he feels he can talk to about this, he's stuck with these feelings for now.

In conclusion: This sequence breaks my heart. (If your heart is also breaking, my related post may help heal it. Or I recommend watching Heartstopper. If your heart isn't breaking, I blame my post. Go watch the end of S1E2 and the beginning of S1E3 and then come tell me that your heart is still whole)

[girlygguk]

fame - jjk (three)

pairing ; idol!jk x idol!oc.

synopsis ; aera; the main dancer in one of the biggest k-pop groups in the world, Siren. debuting in 2014, it was nothing but immense hard work and perseverance (and being on the absolute verge of disbandment), but she and the four girls that grew to become her sisters pulled through. they did it. now they're performing at some of the most significant arenas and stadiums worldwide. meeting a cheeky, flirtatious and annoyingly gorgeous fellow idol that threatens to break down every wall of protection she's built around herself was not part of the plan. her career has always come first, having sacrificed and jeopardised many relationships and friendships in her journey to debut. so why does this time feel different?

story warnings ; smut, explicit language, violent & possibly triggering scenes.

chapter warnings ; explicit language, fluff, flirty jk

word count ; 3.2k

a/n: thank you sm for liking and commenting even reblogging its SO SWEEETTTT THANK YOU! first jk x oc interaction of the story finallyy

previous chapters ; prologue | one | two | drabble1 | three | four | ...

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

📅 July 22, 2015 — A year ago...

📍 PARK ENTERTAINMENT BUILDING

» Aera's point of view «

• • •

"—Sarang ha neun Aera-shiiiii," my sisters chorused as they clapped to the beat of their out-of-tune serenade.

"Saeng il chuk ha ham ni da!" They cheered, the flats of their palms slapping against the table while they waited for me to extinguish the burning sticks of wax stuffed into the swamp-green-coloured cake before me. I was informed earlier that Ha-Joon led the baking ensemble this morning, so I'm pretty sure it's ninety percent icing. The way the candles were at a thirty-degree angle, almost completely submerged in the desert, only furthers my suspicions.

With a cheesy grin, my eyes flutter closed as I put an end to the candles' lives. Little clouds of smoke whisp towards the ceiling when the flames die out, and I lean back a little to avoid inhaling the fume. "What'd you wish for?" Asami teased, swatting at Joonie's hand when the youngest tried to scrape her finger along the cake's side in hopes of retrieving some icing.

"I can't tell you, or it won't come true." I clichéd, pulling the candles out of the mountain of icing before they sunk like an injured battleship. Dumping the burnt sticks into the garbage can behind us, I turn to our leader as she scrolls through the comments of our current V-Live.

"Can you pass the knife, please, Unnie?" My request snaps her out of her daze, and she leans back from her phone like she didn't even realize she was so close to it. Then, grabbing the knife on the table's edge, she placed the handle in my direction and slid it across to me.

"We're at a thousand viewers!" Hanna screeched, her hand smacking at her knee in glee, and I joined in with the rest of the girls as we giggled at her excitement.

My jaw dropped in disgust and amusement as my assumptions about this cake's ingredients were correct. The knife dragged into the mush, slicing down an alp of icing before hitting a thin layer of cake far later than it should've. My eyes snapped straight to Joon as she bit her lip, her cheeks pink and puffed, no doubt trying to harbour a loud cackle at the look on my face.

My eyes rolled to the back of my head as I let out a breathy chuckle, continuing, or more so attempting, to cut the desert into presentable slices. Slapping each piece onto a paper plate, the girls pull a serving towards themselves as I go, waiting for me to dish up my own before they indulge. I lift the board that the remaining cake is melting on as we speak and put it out of the camera's view before sitting back in my chair with a huff.

Joonie's fork dug into her portion the moment I sat back in my seat, scooping a mouthful of pure icing and consuming it like somebody was trying to take it away from her. I snicker before doing the same, and a slight hum of approval escapes my lips when the fork hits my tongue, the icing surprisingly better and much tastier than I thought. I blame the shitty diet we're on. Cat food would taste good at this point.

Lifting my head, I browse the comments flooding through on our live, and my eyes widen at all the birthday wishes that dominated the comment section. "Thank you guys for the happy birthdays; you're so sweet." I gush, swirling my fork around my plate to try and find a chunk of actual cake and hopefully stop the tears I feel burning at my lower lash line.

I could feel the gaze of Nali on me, and I was failing to find a piece of solid food on my plate of pure topping, which was only making me more frustrated and almost losing the battle with the water pooling in my waterline.

"We couldn't afford two cakes." Nali blurted, and the sound of forks scraping against paper plates pulled to a halt, four heads turning to stare at the blonde.

A few moments of silence passed, and I didn't fight it anymore, my grip on my plate loosening, and I rested it on the table before bursting into a fit of laughter. I seem to have broken the dam because the rest of the girls were heaving over, a chorus of laughs and howls bouncing off the walls of our shitty little cramped office that we cleared out for the v-live.

"It was our first anniversary a few days ago, and if we made a cake for that, we would've blown our allowance then and not had enough for Aera's birthday. So it's sort of a conjoined celebration." Hanna explained to the viewers, wiping at the corners of her eyes to rid the stray tears gathering there from laughing.

Hanna, Asami, and Joon continued breezing through the comments pouring in from the fans on our live, spotting a few familiar usernames and greeting them like they were our own members. Our sweet yet disturbing maknae had finished her cake, her gaze dropping to the left when she saw Asami's unfinished plate pushed to the side, indicating she didn't want anymore.

I felt my eyebrows crinkle slightly, watching my roommate, one spoonful of icing away from a stomach ache and never-ending whining when we try to sleep later tonight, grab Asami's plate, and devour the remnants. You would think we don't feed this girl.

Brushing the hair that had fallen in front of my eye, my gaze fell to the blonde on my right to see her attention was already on me. I give her a small, thankful smile, grateful for how she had drawn the attention away from me for a moment to compose myself. Nali nodded in understanding, her hand finding mine under the table and delivering a soft squeeze that sent a wave of comfort through my body.

It had been an hour or so since we started the live stream, and we still had choreo to work on later tonight, so we responded to as many questions and messages as possible before wrapping up the celebration. Our leader, Hanna, took a screenshot of the viewer count, still giddy at the fact that we hit 1,100, which beat our personal record by far. We thanked our Allures profusely, big gummy grins covering our faces as we sent waves and kisses toward Hanna's phone as she ended the stream.

The sound of my phone vibrating on the table's edge caught my attention as we tidied up the area. Asami took the remaining cake to the kitchen and informed us she'd wrap it and put it in the refrigerator. Ha-Joon finished stacking the used paper plates and all but sprinted out the office door, muttering a quick "I'll help!" that earned a chorus of scoffs and eye-rolls from her unnies.

"That girl will return with a permanent green upper lip," Hanna grumbled, halfway through a thank-you post on our Instagram account with the statistics from today's live.

She pulled me over to get approval for the photos of me she was using for my birthday post, and I set my phone back down before getting a chance to check my notifications. She was scrolling through today's pictures, Nali's phone becoming our camera as we were streaming from Hanna's. I chuckled at how Hanna literally took a hundred photos, my face invading Nali's camera roll; you'd think it was my phone.

Settling on a few, I suggested she use the candid of Joonie wiping the green icing on my nose as the first slide. She nodded ecstatically, murmuring a quaint "yes! i thought so too" before returning to social media manager mode.

Hanna sent the chosen pictures to herself, handing Nali's phone back with a kissy noise causing the visual to retaliate with a playful scowl that paparazzi would pay thousands to capture. They both started to head towards the door, Nali with the full bin liner and Hanna with her phone clad in their hands, before the eldest turned back towards me. "Practice in 15," she announced, not looking up from her phone but her words flying in my direction.

"Okay, unnie." I smiled, and she glanced up from her device, a smirk gracing her lips as she waited for me to face the other direction before delivering a hearty slap to my ass. Winded, I spin around to return the favour but only catch sight of the raven-haired girl sprinting down the hall to catch up with Nali.

"Freak," I mutter, my laugh fizzing out in the room that now only contains me. My abandoned phone remains face-down on the table, and I trudge over, tapping the screen to bring it back to life. Staring at the notification perched at the top of my cracked phone screen, it glares back at me before my phone fades out due to inactivity. I continue bringing the phone back to life, each time staring at the same notification for thirty seconds before the screen goes black again.

15:34 JUNGKOOK FROM BANGTAN SONYEONDAN

Happy birthday Aera 🎂

I click on the notification, and my screen reacts to my demand, transitioning to the messages app. As I think of a response, my nail begins to tap against the side of my phone case in angst, and I almost put my phone away altogether.

It's just a happy birthday message, not a fucking proposal. My inner thoughts are demonic, taunting me as I discover five characters is apparently my limit before I delete everything and start over.

15:38 ME

thank you jungkook

Poetic. You truly have a way with words, Aera. My thumb scrambled to the side of my case, resting against the lock button, so close to ending my misery, before I saw the word 'delivered' change to 'seen' at the bottom of my message. He's fast to reply, almost as if staring at the text waiting for a response.

15:38 JUNGKOOK FROM BANGTAN SONYEONDAN

How are you?

Rolling my eyes at the basic pleasantries, I consider leaving him on read and heading towards the practice room with the rest of my members. Then, against my better judgment, I concede.

15:39 ME

i'm okay, you?

15:39 JUNGKOOK FROM BANGTAN SONYEONDAN

Just okay? It's your birthday, you should be happy! 🥳

15:39 ME

i am happy. today has been great 🥳

15:40 JUNGKOOK FROM BANGTAN SONYEONDAN

You know, mirroring the actions of someone else can often be misinterpreted as a show of affection

15:41 ME

aaaaand you fucking ruined it. i have to go practice

15:41 JUNGKOOK FROM BANGTAN SONYEONDAN

Wait Aera

Can we

Video call later tonight

My heart skips a beat, or six, as I stare at his text. He's so fucking blunt. So forward. It drives me mad. So mad that I find myself sending back a thumbs-up emoji before shoving my phone into my pocket and leaving the office that, I swear, has increased by five degrees in the last few minutes.

════ ⋆★⋆ ════

The squeak of my reusable water bottle wrung in my ears as I squeezed the life out of the canister, the chilled liquid it holds trying its hardest to fight the internal burning temperature of my body. I run my hand through my damp hair in an attempt to incorporate air into the strands and allow my scalp a chance to breathe.

We wrapped up practice a few minutes ago; the rest of the girls had scrambled out of the burning suite when we unanimously agreed that we physically couldn't continue today. Hanna led the eager troops to the kitchen to prepare our dinner, and I secured the lid of my bottle shut before tailing the train down our company's hall. Stopping at my dorm once they had just entered the kitchen's quarter, I threw out a quick "i'll be there in a sec, just need to use the bathroom" before ducking into my room.

Snatching my hoodie that I threw on my bed carelessly earlier today, I flip it inside out at lightning speed, shoving my head and arms through the holes in what I'm sure is a personal best. Leaning over my bed with a huff, I grunt in triumph when I feel my phone in my grasp after a few failed attempts to grab it off my bedside table. Shoving it into the pocket of my sweatshirt, I make my way out of the dorm, looking in the direction of the kitchen before turning the opposite way and heading for the exit of our building.

A sigh of ecstasy leaves my lips as the chilled night air envelopes my frame once I push through the bulky door of our building and make my way toward the stony path that lines the structure. My butt hits the pavement with a thud, and I fish my phone out of my pocket; the device's light illuminating a ray of yellow in the darkness of the night as it comes to life.

Clicking on the familiar contact in my list, I hit the video icon and listen to the low hum of the outgoing tone as it attempts to connect me to the desired recipient. No more than five seconds pass before the loading symbol appears on the screen, the background black as the device works to load the picture of the awaiting parties.

I'm staring at the box in the bottom right corner that mirrors my appearance, halfway through pulling the hood of my jacket over my head to shield my matted hair before his bunny smile stately renders onto my phone screen.

My action is pulled to a halt, my hand releasing my shirt's hood as I take in the picture being shamelessly displayed by my busted phone. Jungkook leans against his headboard, clad in a black shirt that accentuates the shape of his arms. Speaking of arms, the one of his that isn't currently busy holding his device up runs through his woolly, fluffed hair before resting behind his head against the board.

"Saeng il chuk—" Jungkook started once my camera connected and displayed my face on the screen. A cringed scowl overtook me as I hushed him, shaking my head rapidly and begging him to stop the birthday anthem.

His cheeky giggle blew through my speaker when I cut off his song, eyebrows raised in amusement, "How's the big 19? Feel any different?"

"Days don't even feel like days right now, so no, I don't feel that different." My response is honest, eyes trailing down to the heel of my sneaker, currently scraping against the gravel beneath me that I'm sure is staining my sweatpants.

He nods in understanding, knowing exactly how I feel at the moment, having been in a similar situation in his rookie days. "Do you want me to call you Noona now?" He quips with a smirk, reminding me that I am, in fact, two months older than him.

My eyes widen as his question catches me off guard, and I do not bother to stop my eyes from rolling to the back of my head while he chuckles hoarsely at my reaction. "I will fucking kill you."

My response only seems to amuse him more, his eyes wide in faux fear, and I feel a smile breaking through onto my face, forcing me to look away from my phone for a moment. The smell of spices invades my nostrils, bringing me back to consciousness, and I glance up at the time displayed on my device.

"I have to go eat dinner," I say, watching his plump bottom lip purse into a pout.

My team probably thinks I am having abhorrent bowel movements right now. However, Jungkook's question pulls me out of my thoughts, his big bug eyes curious as he quizzes, "Why are you eating dinner at 11 pm?"

"The kitchen doesn't close until 12 on weekends, so we usually train later on Saturdays and Sundays." I shrug, shuffling a little until my back is flush against the side of the building. His eyebrows furrow, seemingly taken aback by my answer, and I'm unsure why.

"The kitchen closes at certain times?" His question is low and soft, and I can't decipher the look on his face as he says those words. This had become my reality that I adapted to so quickly since becoming a trainee. I often forget to filter out certain things before sharing with people.

"Do you want me to get you something delivered?" He asks; the tone of his voice is gasoline on the burning flame in my lower stomach.

"Oh yeah? Are you gonna supply food for five people?"

"Yes." His answer is instant, and I admit defeat to the battle with my mouth as my lips curve into a soft smile.

"Don't do that," I shake my head, pulling my knees closer to my chest as the wind picks up, and I hope it blows the phone out of my hand and into the local lake.

"Do what?" His tone is innocent though his features are anything but.

"Don't say shit like that."

"Shit like what?" The corner of his mouth upturns as he senses my frustration, my displeasure only seeming to egg him on.

The loud chatter and laughter of my members pull me back to my reality, and I let the laugh trapped in my throat escape before clambering to my feet, glaring at the boy leaning against his headboard once I steady myself, "I have to go."

Jungkook nods in understanding, looking like he didn't expect to get me for this long anyway. Just as I'm about to say goodbye, he leans up a little, the muscle in his arm tensing as it adjusts behind his head. "Wait, are you guys attending MAMA?"

I knew he meant well, but it didn't stop the unsettling feeling brewing in my stomach, the possibility of being unable to break through in our career despite the work my sisters and I put in daily glooming over my head like a heavy, grey cloud.

"Don't be ridiculous; we could never get an invite to a show like that."

"You will one day." He responds, his tone sure and confident, and I almost believe him.

"Maybe one day." I nod, a grateful smile finding its way to my lips, and he returns the gesture, his bunny teeth peeking out slightly in a cheesy grin.

"Have a good dinner, Noona. Happy birthday," he wishes, and my finger instantly dashes to the disconnect button in reflex. Giving him one final glance, I poke my tongue out teasingly, clicking the red icon that ends both the call and my suffering. 

Letting out a heavy breath, I walk back to the entrance of our building, swinging the door open and flicking the lock once it shuts behind me. My head falls forward onto the glass, and I have to stop myself from lifting it and slamming it back down a few more times.

Shoving my phone back into my hoodie pocket, I finally make my way toward my members in the kitchen. The smell that wafts from the kitchen tickles the aggressive hunger in my stomach, distracting my thoughts from other things. Halfway down the hallway, my eyes fall to the back of my head for the umpteenth time this night alone as I grind to a halt. Now I actually have to pee.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

taglist ; @0anodite0

[rainbowsky]

This is not a question, but a reflection. With this BF story, I thought a lot. And I think that as French, I don't have the same point of view. I was especially shocked by these words: “he must be educated”. France has a deep colonial past. and I thought: "we must educate these ignorant Chinese? but who are we to think that we are better and superior? we who today have so much hatred for them?" Each country has its point of view depending on his history. no need to respond if you don't want to. And thank you for your always respectful and thoughtful publications.

This is in reference to a previous post.

Bonjour lyndariell, j'espère que tu vas bien. ☺️

This is a perfect example of what I was saying about this being a very complex issue with a lot of different perspectives and angles.

In order to make sense of and come to terms with this issue we each need to find the right balance between upholding our own values and respecting the values of others. That's bound to be a tricky process because we're each coming from a different region, with different backgrounds, experiences and perspectives on the world.

Each of us will have a different degree of empathy and alignment toward one or more of the various stakeholders in the situation as well, based on our own experiences, interests and values.

In other words, it's complicated.

It is true that for some people, hearing so many white Westerners say that a Chinese man half a world away 'needs to be educated' on any topic might legitimately feel distasteful and wrong. There is this Western conceit that our values and way of life are superior and obviously correct, and that other nations are just 'behind us' in heading toward the same goals*.

*Although the same is also true going East to West.

It would be totally understandable if some people were to reject the Westerners' characterization of this issue and say that the choices that led to blackface being used in this film are not our choices to make. After all, the filmmakers are telling a Chinese story to a Chinese audience, and they know best how to go about that.

Fair enough. But...

Speaking of colonialism

While we're on the topic of colonialism shouldn't we also be talking about China and its role as a neocolonial power in Africa? As I said in my previous post, it's not really fair for us to look at things solely from our own perspective and in the context of the cultural environment we are in rather than considering the cultural environment this film was made in.

Have you heard of the Belt and Road Initiative? Actually you don't need to answer that question, because almost every turtle has definitely heard of it. GG sang a beautiful song in celebration of that initiative not that long ago, complete with a video highlighting some of the major projects involved.

I didn't post that video on my blog, but you can watch it here. All the bridges, trains and other infrastructure you can see in the video are projects from the Belt and Road Initiative; China investing across Asia, Africa and other regions to improve transport and trade (and to build on China's power globally).

I'm no @potteresque-ire, so I'm not going to break it all down in a meticulous, intelligent, well-cited masterpiece, but you can learn a bit more about it here. There are also countless online articles, papers, analyses, critiques, accolades, etc. from every possible angle out there if you want to dig deeper.

Some of the core strategy of the initiative involves proposing massive infrastructure projects in poor regions, loaning them the money to make the projects happen (loans in the billions), and stipulating that the contracts must be completed by Chinese companies. Resulting in countries with shiny new railways and hospitals built and paid for by the Chinese government and Chinese corporations, with these countries massively in debt to China for many decades to come and with deep trade ties to China.

Depending on who you ask, Belt and Road is either an exploitative, environmentally disastrous neocolonialist power/resource grab, or it's an innovative unifying effort to improve the lives and trade of its member nations.

I personally feel its a bit of both.

Whichever it is, it does have a very dark side. There have been many stories coming out of these regions, telling about slave-like working conditions and horrific abuse from the Chinese contractors toward their African workers. I made the mistake of researching this and let me just say that what I've seen cannot be unseen. There is a reason people make snide jokes about the "belt" in Belt and Road.

And that's just the Belt and Road Initiative. There are a lot of other Chinese individuals and companies going into regions across Africa to take advantage of the people and resources for their own monetary gain. I posted about one such example the other day.

So in considering imperialistic attitudes it's only fair to reflect on what it might mean for a Chinese person to wear an African ethnicity like a costume, in a country that is frequently racist toward Africans and which is thought by many to be exploiting African nations with a form of neocolonialist debt slavery.

Particularly when said costume leads to a massive increase in the amount of racist posts on Chinese social media, and with a tone of raucous mockery and disdain.

We should consider the impact of this film on Chinese attitudes toward Africa and Africans. Based on what I've seen on Weibo, in various articles and on international social media it seems like there is a strong colonialist 'white savior' narrative coming out of this film; glorifying China as swooping in and saving these helpless Africans.

Taken alongside the horrible racism of Chinese audience reactions to the blackface, I don't think looking at it through 'the other lens' gives us a prettier picture.

If the primary category of people who are not offended by this tends to be audiences who are reacting with racist mockery, then a deeper reflection needs to happen.

All that aside, DD isn't working in a vacuum. He has been actively cultivating an international audience and working closely with international brands. He doesn't have the luxury of ignoring Western values if he wants to continue down that path.

And let's not forget that the culture he's so enamoured of is black American culture. If he loves Western hip hop culture so much it would behoove him to better understand and support the people at the root of that culture. The people who literally made it possible for him to find and enjoy that culture.

DD is a good person at heart. I feel that participation in cultural harm is beneath his dignity, and not something he'd consciously choose to do if he had a better understanding of the impacts.

When it comes to culture clash and differences in values it's also important to remember that while everyone is free to make their own choices about what they say and do, so too is everyone else free to make their own choices about how to respond to what that person says and does.

DD is a massive star, so his behavior and choices go far beyond his own cultural environment. It's inevitable that some people are going to have different takes on it all.

And I don't feel like people are telling DD what to do, so much as they're talking about what he needs to do in order to maintain their support. They're drawing out the boundaries of what they deem acceptable as fans. From there everyone has their own choices to make, including DD.

My own position

Here's the thing: I've come under loud, vehement fire from black fans for not taking a strong enough stand on this issue, while some other fans feel I'm being too hard on DD. Now you're saying I should consider the colonialist angle and reflect on whether it's even appropriate for me to think DD has anything to learn.

I can only ever be myself, and speak and act from my own values. I will always think for myself and take my own positions, no matter how unpopular they are and no matter how harshly people attack me for it (and they have).

I am capable of holding multiple conflicting perspectives in my heart and feeling compassion for them all.

I empathize with black people who ***for fuck's sake!!*** have been so thoroughly fucked over on every level and in every possible way by people around them who just don't get it about racism. Who just don't get how deep and broad and far-reaching it is and about how soul-destroying it is to live in a world where this shit is normalized.

I can't even begin to imagine how hard it must be to be a black fan who loves DD and then see him in blackface, and then watch all the fans try to gloss over it as though it doesn't matter.

I empathize with Chinese fans who are in most cases probably not at all ill-intended, whose reactions came honestly even if they were jarring to Western fans, and who have mostly found this story and its telling both exciting and moving.

I empathize with diaspora fans who are having to deal with a whole bunch of sanctimonious lectures about who DD should be and what he should think, say and do.

I empathize with the filmmakers, who after all were probably just trying to give an accurate retelling of something that actually happened in real life.

I empathize with DD, who was likely doing what was requested of him and probably didn't realize that it would turn out to be so controversial or negatively impact so many people.

Anyone who can say with a straight face that they think DD would ever intentionally or knowingly do something that would be this controversial or that would be hurtful to so many of his fans can KMA. That's not the kind of person DD is at all.

Blackface is a huge deal here in the West, and even people in this region are constantly getting it wrong. How can we expect people in regions where it's not traditionally been a big deal to do better than people here who are steeped in awareness*?

*And before anyone says that cultural relativism is such that only people in the West really think blackface is wrong, why not try talking to some of the African fans who've been deeply upset by this?

This is what it is to live in the world. Life is complex, and people are messy. Like I said before; nothing is black and white. Everything is a million shades and hues. As much as people will try to oversimplify the issue and try to intimidate us into taking 'their side', or try to punish and attack us for not doing so, we can only ever live by our own conscience.

No matter how much pressure I come under to condemn one of the individuals or groups I listed above, I will refuse to do so. My conscience tells me to be compassionate and understanding to all of them, and that everyone is always doing their best.

I hope and believe that our differing opinions can coexist. We can disagree and still be friends, as long as we remain open to accepting one another, and as long as we respect each other's right to our own conscience and values.

Merci pour cet échange d'idées intéressant. 💛.