#i might be driven to violence if anyone hurts them'

[hencheri]

Imagine wayv maknae line gangbanging reader? (noncon) ALSO MORE MEAN DOM XIAOJUN?

18+. mdni.

warnings: gangbang, noncon, physical violence.

.

yangyang didn't have any mean intentions. not at all. upon seeing you, he just thought about your face and the harmony of it. your hair, how it dripped over your shoulders. and your cleavage, a gold heart pendant sitting on your chest.

he liked how you looked and how polished your appearance was. it felt like looking at an angel, stomach churning at the mere sight of a beautiful girl like you.

maybe he had a few dirty thoughts. like how perky your nipples would be without your top on, or how plushy your thighs would feel in his hands.

but that's when he realized he shouldn't have stared at you for so long, xiaojun and hendery noticing what — or rather who — had caught the youngest's attention.

yangyang has always been aware of the foul way his friends treat girls. to be honest, just hearing them talk makes him uncomfortable sometimes. especially xiaojun.

he says things in such a nonchalant manner it sends shivers down yangyang's spine. the evil gleam in xiaojun's eyes when he explains what he wants to do to you is enough to alert him that he might be serious this time. it's always followed with hendery's laugh, turning everything into a joke.

he's learned to smile along with his friends' laughs, bashfully looking away as what was said made his cock jump more than once.

yangyang isn't like them, ideas like these don't occur in his mind. at least it isn't frequent. but xiaojun and hendery are his closest friends since literally forever, so perhaps the scene happening in front of him doesn't frighten him as much as he pretends to.

you're sobbing so loud he wonders how nobody still hasn't heard anything coming from the dark alleyway they're in. hendery holds you from behind, his hands wrapped around both of your arms. he's looking over your shoulders, watching xiaojun coming closer to you as he keeps you from moving away.

xiaojun lifts up your top, revealing your stomach, heaving up and down rapidly. "give me your cig," he tells yangyang, looking at your skin, pretty goosebumps all over it.

"... what?" yangyang hesitantly mutters, but he clearly heard what his friend said. he just doesn't want to believe he's going to do what he thinks he will.

"give it to me," he repeats, now shooting him a glare.

he hears another one of your sobs and takes the cigarette out of his mouth, still lit up, passing it to xiaojun. he does just what he thought he would.

xiaojun presses the burnt end onto your stomach and you let out a scream that will surely stay in yangyang's mind for a while. xiaojun could only describe it as the most beautiful and truthful sound he's ever heard.

hendery holds you from squirming too much, keeping your back against his chest. "how does it feel?" he whispers into your ear, his breath brushing over your neck making you wince. "hm?" he encourages you to answer, a little too eager.

"it hurts!" you cry out, and of course it does. but you obviously don't see it in the right way.

"dejun, come on..."

it makes the oldest roll his eyes, huffing out. "what?" he says, visibly irritated. "think you're better than that? than us?" xiaojun turns to yangyang, looking at him like he's missing the point — the whole sense of it. "i know you better than anyone else, yangyang."

he stares at him one last time, "leave if you want."

the smile on xiaojun is big when yangyang doesn't leave, but also gets driven by his own deepest desires — the very ones he swore he didn't have.

his cock is filling you up entirely, thrusting back and forth inside of you with his arm wrapped around your torso, holding you up. yangyang's eyebrows frown as xiaojun twists your hair around his fist, raising your head up so your leaky eyes meet his.

your angelic features are ruined, drippy mascara dusting your cheeks instead of your red blush. yangyang's partially the cause of it, even before he pushed his length in your pussy. you were destined to be ruined the moment he laid eyes on you.

[faerise-fae]

Not really a marauders character but: Tom Riddle #20!

YAPPING WARNING ABOUT ASPD TOM RIDDLE AGAIN

Ok so sorry for taking so long to do this, but my brain crashes every time i try to think about something that isn't obvious or just fucking boring. BUT I REALLY WANT TO TALK ABOUT IT WITH YALL SO GIVE ME YOUR THOUGHTS

The hill I'll die on is that he is an ASPD baddie, tho I bet he would prefer thinking about himself as sociopath, as edgy teens do. It doesn't mean I think he is totally emotionless, i think he is very emotional. Just not empathetic? This man is purely driven by his emotions from the start. Be it fear of death, resentment, and hatred towards Dumbledore or just general anger directed at the stupidity of the wizarding nation. In ASPD it's just that the intensity of expression of those emotions is different. He can look totally put together and like an oasis of peace, but inside planning whatever insanities only he can think of.

Because the thing is, anger issues are not rare in ASPD. ASPD is associated with impulsiveness and violent or risky behaviours, which can result in lashing out in anger. It's just that when you don't have many emotions to begin with, controlling the stronger ones can be difficult.

People have very different headcanons about him in that matter, i see a lot of totally stoic, calculating tom riddle who doesn't have absolutely any emotions and stuff like this, but I really can't see it. My man is a dramatic, cruel, entitled and IMPULSIVE edgelord BUT:

HOT TAKE #1:

Canon Tom Riddle headcanonned himself as fanon Tom Riddle.

He might have thought of himself as emotionless, but he just didn't acknowledge it. Growing up in an unstable environment, he hadn't learned how to stabilize himself.

Because ASPD is partialy caused by genetics, yes. But a very big factor in developing it is childhood and home life. We can agree his was very unstable, he has probably witnessed violence and definitely experienced emotional neglect. ASPD is all about lack of security. Its defence mechanism. That means:

My man just doesn't know how to cope, LMAO. When it was too much even for him to stuff into the back of his brain, he just lashed out. Acting on impulses was his relief from it. Adrenaline from it also helped to mute his feelings.

But at the same time, he just didn't think of himself as unreasonable. "It was never his fault, he was just provoked!" He also didn't feel guilty about causing harm to others because he didn't have any empathetic feelings towards anyone. How can you feel bad about idk, cursing someone if you don't see them as an individual with feelings of their own. Because how could he think about their feelings when he didn't have much of his own to compare and to even comprehend what they feel beside some very shallow understanding. AND BY THAT I DONT MEAN HE DIDNT KNOW HE WAS HURTING PEOPLE AROUND HIM HE WASNT A POOR LITTLE MEOW MEOW. HE KNEW, HE JUST DIDNT GET IT SO HE DIDNT CARE. But he obviously knew. So no empathy but more like an educated guess. Masking king. He learnt how emotions worked for other people and used it whenever he saw fit. Pure manipulation.

Because again neglectful caregiving = problems with attachment to people and forming relationships. In the end it's all about him in that aspect. His feelings are always about himself and making himself feel comfortable and stable. He was fond of his friends till they were useful and till he felt good with having them around. He took pride* in gaining their respect and loyalty. He was using them to stroke his ego basically. And was using them in general. For stuff and things.

*HOT TAKE #2:

And here i have my latest hot take: his similarity with Harry in that matter. Harry is a gryffindor with some slytherin traits. And imo Tom, with him being the most slytherin to ever slytherin, his crazy pride and impulsivity is so gryffindor.

So there's that beside how we can all agree he was a liar and manipulator.

[evildilf2]

Totally beside the point but I think the outrage over people cutting themselves is completely overblown as well. I really don't know anyone who's repeatedly cut themselves bad enough to recieve medical attention (though they do exist) and if anything it just seems like a weird but understandable exploration of one's own body. As soon as cutting becomes a sex thing or whatever everyone's chill with it. If cutting yourself was a recognizable sport it'd be on the olympics.

I see where you’re coming from, and to a degree I can agree with some of the points you’re making here. I think though, that intent & emotional state are important to keep in mind when analyzing these circumstances.

The self harm I’ve engaged in throughout my life has never been driven by masochism, rather I’d describe these urges to be auto-sadistic. When I hurt myself, it is not because I find the sensation to be pleasurable. I’m taking out my anger and frustration, sometimes for myself sometimes for others, on my body. This behavior isn’t premeditated and negotiated like consensual kink, right. It’s spur of the moment violence. Even if my wounds are superficial themselves, this behavior isn’t healthy. It indicates internal harm I may be doing to myself, as well as the potential to impulsively wound myself in ways that are riskier or more severe.

Here’s another way to think about it: having sex with someone you don’t know isn’t innately harmful at all, but if someone is doing so while emotionally deregulated, and they choose not to be precautious, or maybe even ignore their own boundaries, they are likely engaging in unhealthy self destructive behavior that could seriously get them sick or hurt.

There might people out there who cut themselves but are not self harming, if that makes any sense. People who take precautions, are risk aware, and aren’t attempting to poorly cope with emotional dis-regulation. I don’t think this represents the majority of people who cut themselves though.

[skepsiss]

His People - Eddie Munson

Wrote a small piece for the October 13th prompt "Monster" for Eddie Month! @eddiemonth. This is a short fic about Eddie coming back as some kind of monster after the events of S4. I might explore this idea more if people like it. (If I continue it, I'll probably make it Steddie, lol). Believe it or not, this is fluff. This is extremely soft and a look into Eddie's mind when he himself doesn't know his own mind anymore. He is more like a stray cat than something scary though.

Chapter 1 Chapter 2

CW: Descriptions of gore/violence, body horror (minor), discrimination, mention of blood.

For as long as Eddie could remember he had felt like a monster. You were made to feel that way when you grew up poor without parents to rely on. You learned how to shroud yourself in mystery and grow teeth and nails to defend yourself with. How to be a viper and snap at anyone that dared provoke you. They made you feel like a monster, so the only way you could behave was monstrous. The only defense against the venom of humankind was to become something so grotesque they’d leave you alone. 

They’d made him a monster, a creature like from Frankenstein’s lab; just an amalgamation of parts that had never really belonged to him. Animated in the likeness of man, but deemed as cursed and obscene. How he’d been driven from town with pitchforks held high; a monster despite never being asked to be here. Despite never lifting a finger to harm anyone. Despite how little or fragile he really was. 

Eddie had always felt like a monster. It was how you grew up to keep yourself safe. My daddy was a demon and my mother was a mutant and they cursed this planet with a boy so terrible that no one would dare love him. That was how he had lived. That was all Eddie had to assume his future held.

How was it then that when Eddie had become a monster–a real one with fangs and claws, whose heart didn’t beat and skin didn’t bleed–how was it that he had found peace? How was it that he felt more loved now than he ever had when he was simply human?

At his return, his mind was a jumble, and scents and thoughts wafted through the air around him as he tried to recall everything to do with his previous life. He could remember things as if he was looking through a foggy window, grasping at the thoughts, but not always truly remembering. It had been hard not to fall silent in a room of people, to feel included, wanted, and safe. But these people–his people–they had celebrated his return. 

Eddie had come home to Hawkins stinking of death and polluted with tar. The places he had been wounded were marred with obsidian and tacky like dried blood. It didn’t hurt, but it had been disorienting. He hadn’t remembered anything–he hadn’t remembered anything but feeling like a monster. A freak. A bigger threat than he’d ever been… and he had curled up in his tub until he was found. Until warm water was sprayed on him to wash away the filth and a gentle hand had soothed his confusion. 

Scents were the first thing that had helped him remember. 

The way people smelled and the grounding odor of cigarettes. How Dustin, and Robin, Mike and Steve all had such specific scents that helped provoke feelings. The memories attached to those feelings came afterward, but he remembered feeling joy, concern, pride, and love. Good things. Good feelings. But even with the goodness he had shrunk in on himself, fearful that he’d frighten these people away even as they stared at him with glassy eyes and quivering lips. But he hadn’t scared them. He hadn’t scared them at all–he was a real monster and he had never had more people rally around him before in his life. 

With time the obsidian marks faded and his skin looked unmarred by the events of the Upside Down. He couldn’t fully remember what had happened or how he had crawled out of hell, but there were instincts ingrained into him that hadn’t been there before. Food curled his nose and tasted like water or ash in his mouth; the pleasures of sugar and salt felt like torture when he ate them, but meat had never tasted so good. 

Raw, bleeding, hot or cold, muscle and sinew, meat. He had craved it like a starved animal but had cringed away from the idea of killing something to feed his hunger. A fragment of humanity made him shiver and twitch with concern over the prospect. The idea made his mouth water, but it also flooded his guts with anxiety. He didn’t want to hurt anyone. Even like this. Even as a caged lion.

Eating was what had finally cleared his skin and Eddie had learned that abstaining from food for too long marked his flesh with the black substance once again. It made him look ghastly and Eddie had grimaced at his appearance as his body shifted under his gaze. He ate often and hid his unrest.

Still, the food had not been able to hide the secondary row of teeth that were wedged under his gums. It was as if he was a shark or a leech, but you could only really see the teeth when he curled his lip or smiled wide. They were weapons made for tearing and Eddie tried not to eat around his friends in fear the scene would mark him a beast. It was easy to talk around the fangs so long as he remembered. 

The claws were harder to get used to and Eddie had struggled with picking things up and not accidentally destroying everything he touched. They were sharp and he had refrained from touching any of his people in fear that he would wound them. Nothing seemed strong enough to trim his nails, but they didn’t grow either. It was like he had knives attached to his fingers and when he had remembered what his guitars were he had wept over the idea that he’d never be able to play the instrument again.

Nancy had been the one to come up with the idea and Robin had helped implement the plan. Acrylic nails to cover the tips of his fingers–they wouldn’t apply a full nail but the acrylic could be rolled into a bead and then applied to Eddie’s hand to cover the razer points. Eddie hadn’t known to feel foolish at the time, but he felt self-conscious about it now–even if there didn’t seem to be any way around it. Still, the girls had painted his nails black and he’d be free to touch things unbiasedly for a few weeks until the acrylic chipped off. It worked and he had encouraged the girls to make his claws look jagged or imperfect instead of nice and polished. He’d wear them as a costume, even though eventually he hoped he could figure out how to do the work himself. 

People had rallied to him and Eddie had felt meek in their wake. He had slunk around the party and shrunk into corners quietly like a scared animal, the onslaught of love and care too foreign and overwhelming to him. He didn’t even have his mind to joke and tease, it had just been too much even if he was inexplicably drawn to the attention still. He wanted it, but he didn’t. He needed it, but it felt like he was dying every time he got it. His energy had shifted eventually and he had learned that he liked compliments, so long as he could joke. He’d fain shyness and squirm, obviously touched but hamming up his reaction. 

Before he remembered that it was strange he had warmed up to everyone in quiet, affectionate ways. He had leaned and rested his cheek on Dustin’s head, relishing in the softness of his curls. He had tugged at Nancy’s shirt sleeves and followed her around while she worked, watching everything she did with the utmost interest. He had curled up beside Steve on the couch and slowly stretched across his lap like a cat looking to disrupt their owner, soaking in the warmth his body provided. 

Everyone had tolerated his oddities until slowly aspects of his humanity returned to him. Memories and social norms struck him at inopportune times and then flooded him with shame or nervousness. He felt like a toddler or enfeebled at times and it was difficult to keep up with everyone as they chatted around him. Still, whenever someone noticed him struggling they had softly explained in an aside or given him a reassuring touch. It was more than he could ask for and Eddie had fallen in love with every single one of his friends again and again. His people. 

It felt like he was bursting at the seams with platonic affection for every single one of them. He was taken care of and adored, not just tolerated. People wanted him for the first time, monster and all. 

He had been shamed into submission amongst the horde for his whole life, made to carry the mantle of vandal, plague, and devil whether he wanted it or not. Branded a problem–a defect. Branded a freak. He was everything he had been told he was his whole life but he did not fear it any longer. If being a beast earned him Lucas, and Jeff, Max, and Gareth he didn’t care. It didn’t matter to him because he was celebrated for remembering things and he felt safe just lingering close to his friends. 

He was grotesque now; built from spare parts and left for scrap, but his people wanted him anyway and Eddie had never felt more loved in his life.

Chapter 2

[frogspond200]

𝚈𝚊𝚗𝚍𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝚂𝚝𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚗 𝙰𝚕𝚙𝚑𝚊𝚋𝚎𝚝

𝚁𝚎𝚚𝚞𝚎𝚜𝚝𝚎𝚍 𝚋𝚢: 𝚕𝚘𝚕𝚕𝚘𝚠

𝚆𝚊𝚛𝚗𝚒𝚗𝚐: 𝙶𝚎𝚗𝚎𝚛𝚊𝚕 𝚈𝚊𝚗𝚍𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝚜𝚝𝚞𝚏𝚏

𝙰𝚜𝚔: 𝚌𝚘𝚞𝚕𝚍 𝚠𝚎 𝚐𝚎𝚝 𝚊 𝚢𝚊𝚗𝚍𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝚊𝚕𝚙𝚑𝚊𝚋𝚎𝚝 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚂𝚝𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚗 𝚄𝚗𝚒𝚟𝚎𝚛𝚜𝚎? 𝙶𝚎𝚗𝚍𝚎𝚛 𝚗𝚎𝚞𝚝𝚛𝚊𝚕 𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛 𝚙𝚕𝚎𝚊𝚜𝚎

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

A - Affection: Steven showers you with affection, constantly seeking your attention and love, Whether you want it or not.

C - Cherish: he cherishes every moment you spend together, treasuring you above all else.

D-Delusionly: his perception of reality is distorted by my obsession, blurring the lines between fantasy and truth...

E - Enough: No amount of your hate towards him or attention will make him hate you back, he's a very delusional person…He just thinks you're having a bad day.

F - Fragile: his delusion is delicate, like a fragile gemstone that could shatter at any moment...

G - Gore: he revels in the grotesque, finding twisted satisfaction in scenes of violence and bloodshed to those who hurt or even THINK. Of loving you.

H - Harmony: In his twisted harmony, he finds solace in your presence and the sound of your voice, touch, smell...Everything.

I - Intrusion: he invades your personal space, driven by an overwhelming desire to be close to you at all times.

J - Jealousy: Jealousy consumes him, fueling his rage at the mere thought of someone else capturing your attention.

K - Key: You hold the key to his heart, his life, and his very existence revolves around you and your affections.

L - Love: his love for you is obsessive and possessive, bordering on madness.

M - Manipulation: he skillfully manipulation situations and people, molding them to fit his desires and keep you close.

N - Nagging: he nags and criticism, convinced that it’s “for your own good” and to improve our relationship...

O - Obsession: My mind is consumed by thoughts of you, every waking moment dedicated to our twisted love.

P - Possession: You are his possession, a cherished object that he guards fiercely from anyone who might threaten you...

Q - Quandary: he is torn between his desire to protect you and his desire to keep you all to himself.

R - Rage: A burning rage resides within him, ready to erupt at any moment to defend our love from anyone who might think it's dangerous.

S - Secrets: He keeps every one of your secrets close, using them as tools to deepen his connection and maintain control.

T - Twisted: Your love is twisted and distorted, deviating from societal norms and descending into darkness.

U - Unhinged: his mind is unhinged, teetering on the edge of sanity as he clings to his poisonous love.

V - Violent: He is prone to outbursts of violence, lashing out at anyone who threatens your bond. Sometimes has outbursts on you whenever you look the other way

W - Worship: You are his divine deity, worthy of worship and sacrifice, the center of my existence. The sheet thought of not being with him rips him apart inside and out.

X - Xenophilic: he is captivated by your uniqueness, drawn to every aspect of your being...the way you walk, talk, move, and try to fight back, astonished him.

Y - Yearning: his yearning for you is insatiable, an all-consuming desire that drives him to extreme measures.

Z - Zealous: he is consumed by a zealous devotion to you, willing to do whatever it takes to possess you completely...

[quakenshake]

Prompt: Drunken Words

Hi, guys! I’ve always wondered how Chishiya would react to drunk people/a drunk reader, so I thought I’d give it a go. I do want to warn you: this one is quite angsty, and gets a bit dark. There are mentions of violence, death, alcohol, self harm/suicidal ideation, strong language, etc. Please use caution if you are sensitive to any of these themes! Hope you guys enjoy, and please do let me know of any requests! I’m wondering if I should do another version of this, but from his perspective? Let me know if that sounds interesting! - S

It wasn’t your intention to get drunk; but then again, it hadn’t been your intention to kill anyone, either. When in Rome, right? It was all survival, anyways. If poisoning your blood with alcohol meant you could go another night without putting a bullet through your skull, then really…it was no different from the bullets you’d lodged into that girl’s body. A life for a life. What was it he’d told you? “To gain something, you need to lose something.”  If you thought about it that way, then alcoholism seemed like a pretty good trade for your sanity.

The taste of the drink was disgustingly sour, and it burned its way through your body as you swallowed with a grimmace. There was a comfort to the pain, though. It was real, and it brought you to the present moment, and it hurt far less than the memory of what you’d done not three hours prior. What had her name been? Hana? Haru? Pathetic. You took another swig, willing yourself to succumb to the fog that was slowly filling your head. 

That was the true beauty of alcohol- not the fruity taste, or the pretty colors, or the cute little umbrella that the bartender had added. The beauty was held in the moral ambiguity that it allowed. If you thought long enough about it, you supposed that was probably what drew everyone to the Beach- what drew them to the Borderlands in general. Your mind flashed to Niragi, the Beach’s very own boogeyman. More animal than human, driven on impulse and hormones, every bit of which was allowed in a place like this. The Borderlands suited him well, and you began to wonder if it could maybe suit you, too. Niragi doesn’t feel guilt, you thought. But I’ll be damned if he doesn’t know how to shoot. You threw back another swig to drown out the thought before it could form into a dangerous path.

Before long, your glass was empty, pushed to the side to join the three other glasses you’d collected so far. You could feel the bartender’s eyes flash in your direction, and you didn’t have to look up to know what he was thinking. You were drinking too much, too fast, and too openly. You were making yourself vulnerable, something you’d sworn never to do. In fact, it was something you had ridiculed the rest of the Beach residents for, scoffing at their willingness to let down their guards in a place like this. But that was just the thing-- you didn’t want your guard let down, you wanted it fucking destroyed. 

This place might seem like a perpetual nightclub on the outside, but you knew damn well the horrors that lay within. The secrets, the lies, the monsters. This was no safehaven, no utopia, and anyone who treated it as such was a fool. But you were in pain, and the alcohol was supposed to remedy things like pain. Besides- if some monster were to find you like this, defenseless and impaired, would it really be so bad? Your mind wandered to the girl…that damn girl. She had been defenseless. She had been impaired. It didn’t stop you, did it? Caught in a beartrap, pleading for her life, and you’d shot her all the same just so you could go back and drink yourself to death.

“Y/n,” came a voice from behind.

Ah, you thought. So a monster has found me. You turned to face him, finding with a start that it was more difficult to stay balanced in your seat than before. Like a moth to a flame, your eyes found his own- deep and dark, and maddeningly blank. A part of you hated that he’d been the one to find you like this, but the other part of you- a part pulled to the surface by the alcohol, you presumed- soaked up his presence like soil soaking up water after a drought. 

“Chishiya,” you replied. Your voice slurred in a way that enraged you. Never before had you felt so foolish, so weak. You braced yourself for the snarky comment he was sure to fire your way. Ever the opportunist, you knew he wouldn’t be able to resist the chance to bathe in arrogance. But the comment never left his mouth, and his eyes never betrayed his thoughts. He was so unlike you- so composed. It made you hate him all the more.

No longer able to look at him, you clumsily spun back around to face the bar. Lifting a hand into the air to wave down the bartender, you nodded toward your ever-growing pile of empty glasses.

“Another,” you said simply. The bartender hesitated, glancing between you and your unwelcome guest. After what you’re sure was a warning glare from Chishiya, the bartender cleared his throat awkwardly before spinning away to tend to the other Beach residents. Annoyed, you rolled your eyes dramatically and let out a huff to blow the hair away from your face.

“It’s rude to cancel another person’s order,” you grumbled, half-sure that he hadn’t been able to hear. Of course, he had. 

“No more rude than drinking the bar out of stock,” he retorted with amusement. “Perhaps you never learned to share.” Pulling the chair out from beside you, he took a seat. You were surprised by his decision to stay, knowing full well that this was entirely not his scene. Finding the courage to spare him a glance, you found his eyes darting warily between the intoxicated bodies dancing not too far away. He was out of his element, and you took that as a win. If you had to be drunk and miserable, then the least he could do was be a little uncomfortable. 

“I’m fine,” you said suddenly. You weren’t quite sure why you’d said it. You knew he didn’t care, and you were certain that you didn’t care. Perhaps it was simply the thing to say in moments like this, when one is caught like a wounded animal. Drawing his eyes back to your own, Chishiya blinked at you.

“I never said you weren’t.”

He hadn’t. And it wasn’t fair to accuse him as such. But there was something in his eyes- whether you were imagining it, you weren’t quite sure- that almost looked like pity. And he could not pity you. In the short time you’d known the man, there were several things you’d wanted to receive from him- partnership, companionship…hell, maybe even feelings. But never his pity. So you resented his presence regardless.

“Fuck off, Chishiya,” you said darkly. The poison from the alcohol must have kicked in somewhere along the way, because you could have sworn that your words were dipped in venom. But the man had leather for skin, and your words were brushed off within seconds. Instead, he continued to gaze at you with those stupid eyes of his. Those stupid, beautiful eyes.

“It’s time to leave,” he said after a moment. You wanted to hate how gentle his tone was- wanted to accuse him, again, of pitying you. But his words wrapped around your aching heart like a hug, chipping through the ice with their warmth. You pondered for a moment if it was worth it to put up a fight. It was what you wanted to do, after all. You wanted nothing more than to shout at him, cut down his ego and sever whatever this thing was between you for good. It could be easier that way. It could be what you deserved. 

But then he held out a hand for you to take, and suddenly it didn’t matter what you wanted, but instead what you needed. He wouldn’t be like the alcohol; he wouldn’t burn you to make you feel, he wouldn’t drown out the memories of that poor girl, and he wouldn’t allow your morals to crumble like Niragi. He didn’t come in fruity flavors, bright colors, or with a cute little umbrella. But he was warm in a way alcohol could never be, and right now, he was the only thing capable of numbing the pain, even just a little. You needed him. 

Taking his palm with your own, you let him pull you to your feet. Thankfully, the sky had long grown dark, and the crowd of people dancing around you provided discretion as the two of you weaved your way back into the hotel. You weren’t sure when the tears had started to fall, but if Chishiya had noticed, he had been kind enough not to mention it. You scrubbed at them furiously with your sleeve, desperate to remove their stain before they could be seen. By the time you reached your room, you seemed almost half put-together. 

Resting your head against the wall outside of your room, you waited patiently for Chishiya to open the door. He did so silently and with ease before turning back to you and taking your hand once more. It was brief, but for a second he held your eyes with his own. There was no pity there like you had feared before, but something deeper and more understanding. He guided you through the doorway and to your bed, where you collapsed into a ball. Sitting next to you, Chishiya’s hands found their way back to their favorite place in his pockets as he stared ahead quietly at the wall.

“I want you to stay with me,” you whispered into your pillow. By now, the adrenaline had run its course through your body and been replaced with a heavy fatigue. You found yourself struggling to keep your eyes open, but you were determined not to fall asleep just yet. A few moments passed before he responded to you, and you began to wonder if he hadn’t heard.

“I know,” he said finally. Still turned away from you, it was impossible to see the expression on his face. Not that there would ever be much to see. He seemed lost in thought, breathing slowly with his eyes still burning into the wall. You wondered if he was calculating his next decision. Everything seemed like a game of chess to him- no choice could be made without deliberation and intent. You wondered if you’d ever get to see him relaxed, maybe somewhere outside of the Borderlands. You wondered if he ever was relaxed. The thought made you horribly sad, and you craved to have his hand in your own again. Finally, after what seemed like forever, he made his move.

Rising from his position, he paused only for a moment before heading toward your door. You watched through half-lidded eyes as he parted, willing him back with each step he took. I guess he does burn like alcohol, you thought with bitter amusement. Once he reached the door, he paused once more, turning his head slightly. It was not enough for you to be able to see his face, just enough to send the message he was regarding you.

“Sleep on your side,” he said. With that, he opened your door and disappeared into the hallway.

[ineffable-rohese]

Oh hey, I've gotten a few followers/mutuals, so I guess it's time for a pinned intro post?

Demographic info (because it gives context to my words): Early 40s white fat cis queer poly pagan woman living in the wet corner of North America. My nearest and dearest are almost all trans/non-binary.

Personal (public facing): I'm an Aziraphale-coded hobbit. Like, so cozy and wholesome you might want to puke. I rewatch just the first disc of the LOTR extended edition because I love the Shire so much. I drink Earl Grey with milk and one sugar. (Or a good scotch, cause every Aziraphale needs a little bit of Crowley inside them, right Sheenie?) I read mainly historical fiction, especially anything set in (actual, not fantasy) medieval Europe and I was at one point a medieval music history nerd. I wear cozy sweaters. I love rain on ferns and April flowers. I make soup with things I've tended and harvested. I work a Wholesome AF job. I unironically hug trees. I'm in love with the world.

Personal (in private): I'm deeply kinky. I'm primarily a Sensual Sadist with a significant Dominant streak. I often play as a Panther. I love consensual violence, and get great joy from hurting people who want me to hurt them. I've only really given myself permission to be that in the last year or so.

Fandoms: I fell in love with Good Omens in 2000 when a college roommate gave it to me. It was genuinely the funniest, greatest thing I had ever read, and I evangelized about it to anyone who would listen. S1 of the show immediately became a comfort show, and it got me through a time of massive loss and upheaval. I put it on when everything was too hard and I needed something that made me feel like everything was going to be OK. S2 - well we're all here still, aren't we? It dropped when I desperately needed One Good Thing for my brain to latch on to as I got through some intense pressure, and boy howdy did it lodge itself in me.

Other fandoms in roughly chronological order: Star Wars (original trilogy made me a child nerd), X-Files (first real social fandom, and intro to fanfic!), Buffy/Angel/Firefly, LOTR, Doctor Who, Torchwood (the only other show I've been driven to write fic for), Sherlock to an extent. OFMD and WWDITS are great fun, though not obsessions.

My Writing: Writing Index Here I'm really enjoying writing right now! I don't know how long this ADHD hyperfocus will last, but I'll take it while it lasts. My goal in writing is to challenge myself, create things I'd want to read, and have fun with it (for a definition of fun).

I'm also definitely working on being comfortable expressing the things I like and want and being unashamed about that. I worry too much about how my 😈 side might reflect on my 😇 side, and honestly, these shades of grey lovelies are helping me with that a lot. It's probably why I love writing Dom Aziraphale so much, because he is just so sweet and good and bright, and also a toppy BAMF who can make demons (and their Bentleys) do whatever he wants and wields a flaming sword against Satan himself.

So yeah, every time I make Aziraphale go to a dark place, and then come back again to being a ball of delight, it's helping me create a map that allows me to do the same (to a, you know, more reasonable extent). And when others read and like the things that come from the darkest corners of my brain, it makes me feel seen.

Anyway, you made it this far. Here are my cats for tax. Yes, I have one of each of the Kinds of Cats.

[ro-botany]

@silque Hope you don't mind me pulling this into it's own post; it's a critical enough point that I really wanna expand on it.

For context for those who didn't read my recent longass post about Frederick in general: We're talking about the canonical age at which Emmeryn was crowned Exalt of Ylisse.

According to the numbers from Awakening Chapter 6, when Emm took the throne she was

NINE YEARS OLD

Maaaaaybe 10, at the most, if you stretch the meaning of "before her tenth year" a bit and play around with the exact date her dad died.

(To be clear, Frederick's age in that table is a headcanon, not canonical in any way)

You are making several excellent points and I'm Big Emotional about all of them, so naturally, I'm going to take four miles of post length to screech about this in more detail.

It is fucking wild to me that the game breezes by the war timeline and the ages of the royal kids so fast. To the point where I straight up missed it! Or forgot, I guess, in the years since my last full playthrough.

I just. I have to set the scene.

Ylisse has just been through an unfathomably bloody holy war. Almost anyone of fighting age was given a weapon and dragged to the desert to fight, leaving behind a halidom populated almost exclusively by children and the elderly, with a dwindling food supply. A country driven into desperation and chaos by its own ruler.

We don't know how the Exalt dies--if his own men turned mutiny or he was routed by Plegian forces or what--but the Exalt does die, and the war dies with him. When the news from the front finally trickles back to Ylisstol alongside what few broken men and women survived the violence, the oldest person of exalted blood is duty-bound to take his former place on the throne.

Overnight, nine-year old Emmeryn goes from playing with her baby brother and awaiting the day her baby sister is born, to being crowned Exalt of a dying country and a shattered populace that now turns all their hurt and ire onto her.

She has her council of old, withered politicians to guide her hand. She has the castle guards--all either old enough to be her grandparents or young enough to be her peers--to protect her from the worst of the violence. She has her mother, too--until one day, too soon, she doesn't.

The game certainly doesn't gloss over the tragedy of that. It neglects to emphasize the ages these kids were dealing with all this at, though. I could tangent off into another 500-1000 words about how fucked that family situation is if I chose to and the unique ways that has played into the characterization of everybody involved. That Emmeryn grew up to be as competent and well-loved a ruler as she did is a monumental feat, not only on her part, but on the parts of the people who supported and raised her.

And to bring it back to the man of the hour on this blog… At some point, Frederick became one of those people. He's been looking after Chrom and Lissa for who even knows how long; there is no doubt in my mind that, like tumblr user silque suggested, Frederick also helped look after Emmeryn. Helped her and her siblings make whatever sense of the ongoing tragedies they could, while probably dealing with a mountain of issues of his own.

He's something at the nexus between older brother, father, bodyguard to all of them. He's been by their side, a constant rock, since all four of them were arguably children. Frederick doesn't let his guard down for a second. He sees the weight on the shoulders of these kids, and he knows helping them bear it is the best thing he can do to help the people starving in his village and every other like it, or to help avert this war, or end that war swiftly. He devotes himself to this duty so utterly that he's practically killing himself from stress and overwork. Always watching for the wolf in the shadows, that Emmeryn and Chrom and Lissa might be able to avoid the fangs and continue being the beacons the halidom needs them to be.

Even when they're at peace, the eyes at the edge of the firelight are all he can see. It confuses Chrom and Lissa; and that's how he knows he's doing his job correctly.

And this relationship between Frederick and the royal siblings.

Is reduced to jokes about pebble-clearing and overzealous recruitment posters a solid 80% of the time.

I JUST.

I want to clarify that these games being goofy and silly and over the top as often as they are is one of their draws, and that I do enjoy how just, cartoonishly cautious Frederick can be. I love the jokes. I am that guy who played the Before Awakening DLC in Fates literally 128 times to max out the pebble joke weapon. In no world do I think we need to wholly kill comedy here.

But at the same time I can't help but be blown away by how often the heart in this relationship is neglected in favour of comedy. The second you start thinking about how Frederick got where he is and why he is the way he is, there is just, SO much there.

It's of dubious canonicity at best, but I want you to read the conversations that Chrom and Frederick have with Emmeryn during her recruitment paralogue. I want you to notice how Chrom, though clearly emotional, is capable of putting his emotions aside, and opts to focus on keeping her safe rather than indulging in his grief, which he knows would only confuse her.

And then I want you to notice how Frederick, stoic, icy Frederick, breaks down. A paragraph of two years of repressed grief comes tumbling out all at once to a woman who, ultimately, is only a ghost of the person he knew. He begs her forgiveness. He cannot, cannot think clearly or objectively in this moment. He hurts too deeply. He cares too much.

The so-called Cold Lieutenant of the Shepherds cares so deeply and self-sacrificingly about everyone and it can be really damn funny, or utterly heart-melting, or utterly heart-breaking depending on the situation and how you play it. AND YET. THE SIDE CHARACTER CURSE. The most genuinely they ever play this bond is in a side chapter that isn't even canon.

How do I end this post.

I am inconsolable for SEVERAL REASONS.

[berry-loves-yandere]

Hello again love of my life!! <33

If possible, can I please request a poly! Yandere Vance and Yandere Bruce with a s/o that's interest in witchcraft!!! <33

It's completely okay if you don't wanna write this!! <33

THANK YOU LOVEBUG!!!! <333333

These nicknames are low-key making me so flustered.

Yandere! Poly! Bruce and Vance with a s/o interested in witchcraft:

WARNINGS: unhealthy behaviours, obsessive behaviour, possessive behaviour, unhealthy mindset, extreme aggression, threatening, violence, murder threats, attempted murder manipulation, blood mentions, notions towards abusive relationship, DEAD DOVE DO NOT EAT

Their darling is definitely a feared town outcast, a freak, which catches the attention of Bruce and Vance for separate reasons.

Vance is also considered an outcast (in a sense) so he might feel like the two of them could be close, especially if both him and his darling are feared for reasons of possible harm.

Bruce wants to disarm the rumours surrounding this seemingly sweet person that he completely and totally maybe thinks is cute and has a bit of a crush on who is someone so opposite to him.

Both attempt to interact with their witch darling who tries to avoid them, assuming bad intentions (which they are correct about for the wrong reasons).

Every time the boys are ignored or pushed away from their darling, they gain more interest in the witch.

They hear the rumours about how their darling is crazy, that they curse people or place spells.

Vance thinks that his growing obsession feelings for his darling are due to some form of love spell, so he now tries extra hard to talk to his darling to get them to reverse whatever curse or spell they put on him.

Bruce does his best to disable the rumours about his darling but he can't deny that they cause his interest in them to peak.

Both boys become more forceful in their attempts to at least befriend their darling until their darling gives in to try to ease whichever pressure was placed on them.

Likely Vance threatened to physically harm anyone close to his darling (ex: a family member or pet) and Bruce gave hints that he would get their family run out of town via harsh rumours.

Then because of their interest in the rumours or curiosity as to what spell was placed on them, the boys would make their darling tell them about witchcraft.

Once their darling tells them more about it, they would genuinely think witchcraft is so cool.

Vance would be all like "I can hurt dumbasses without touching them?! That's so fucking cool!"

While Bruce is more interested in watching small rituals that his darling performs, amazed by the sheer beauty of everything but would also want to try to find love spells as to have his darling fall in love with him.

The boys would not get along at first when they both realize that the other is also obsessed with their darling but soon come to an agreement to protect their beautiful witch darling from anything and everything.

They would steal spellbooks/ books with hexes to try to curse people who were interested in or harassing their darling but the most they succeed in is giving someone bad hair for about a month.

Bruce would spend as much money as possible to buy things for his darling's rituals while Vance would search for the natural ingredients that were needed, sometimes threatening others to find them for him if he didn't want to get them himself.

They would also try to do spells on their darling (love spells) but badly fail at simple ones then try more complex love spells that they would put on small charms and candles and give them to their darling but they’d fail at creating the love spell.

However it did advance their darling's affection for them but also their deep concerns.

Bruce and Vance would lie and deflect all rumours to protect their darling from anyone who accuses them of Witchcraft because the boys would never want their darling to be harmed or driven out of town.

But the moment they feel as if their darling is trying to escape them, they will unleash hellfire and allow their darling's family to suffer while they kidnap save their darling from the harsh world.

Vance would steal vials of nice smelling oils that his darling has because it reminds him of them.

He would

Bruce always asking if his darling will do some sort of spell to make him better at baseball.

Vance and Bruce definitely have little ‘chats’ with people who accuse their darling of being crazy or a witch because they don't need spells or curses to make sure someone shuts their mouth. 

(Edited)

[artemiseamoon]

As long as I’m alive

Riley Moore (ofc) x TF guys | special guest Tyler Rake

Words: 6,510

Part of Artes Year of Whump (with comfort and fluff) | @yearofcreation2023 (March 2023 entry)

✨✨✨Summary: Stuck in a cell, in the middle of no where, Riley and Will try to survive and hatch a plan to find the guys, dead or alive.✨✨✨

Warnings: very heavy on whump, injuries, blood, ptsd mentioned, guns and weapons, self defense driven violence and killing, mentions of torture (not shown).

The guards verbally creepy off screen (but there is no non-con or assault in this - zero. So please know you will not encounter that in this fic at all. I just wanted to mention this for anyone who might fear encountering that in the story, you won’t, you are safe!)

Below is a preview * read in full only on A03

Preview #1 here

They occasionally give them food and water, but it’s sparse and not on a schedule. The last time food was given was two days ago, based on the way the light changed through the ceiling bars. It was a narrow space, not wide enough to be a window but open enough to let in small amounts of fresh air and sunlight.

“Will,” Riley looked up at him, “the others - do you think - “

Will took a sharp breath in, “I don’t know-”

Will hopes they're alive.

He kept telling himself they are, and he just needed to get to them. To think they weren't - that hurt too damn much. He loved every single one of them, and his brother - Benny, his kid brother who he looked out for and protected his entire life- if anything happened to him -

Will felt like he failed Benny, he's supposed to keep Ben safe, and now he didn't know where he was.

In the silence, his mind went back to that moment they were torn apart. Everyone fought like hell, every single one of them, but they were outnumbered.

It was a dark room, like this without bars; guns in their faces after fists had been thrown, they fought until they couldn't anymore. Bruises and blood on both sides, the captors and the captees.

They all blocked Riley from the men, surrounding her like a protective pack of wolves. Still, they were pulled apart, one by one, kicking and screaming until Will and Riley were the only ones left. Will nearly got knocked out when he attacked the men taking Benny, he hit the ground with a thud, and a ringing sensation moved through his head.

Will faded in and out, coming to just as Riley bit down hard on one of the man's arms, tearing skin, his blood on her lips. When he hit her, she fell down and Will dragged her behind him, then putting his body over hers.

After that, his memory got spotty. From what he learned later, from Riley, he went wild- attacking both men with superhuman strength and fighting his ass off. It took a blow to the back of the head to knock him out, then everything went black. He wasn't conscious when they picked her up and dragged her out of the room.

Sometime after that, Will awoke in the same room, this time chained to the wall. He was later blindfolded, gagged, then moved. To his surprise, he wasn't alone, Riley was in there. He didn't know why they were paired up, but he was thankful. He could protect Riley, and he hoped Ben, Frankie and Santi were all together.

Will felt defeated, he had to remind himself of who he was; the call tag Ironhead was earned, he survived all kinds of crazy shit that should have killed him but didn't, including the one gunshot that solidified the name.

Will was getting Riley out of here, and he was going to find his brother - he was going to find Frankie and Santi even if he died trying.

Will knew exactly how many men there were now, the group was smaller, as far as he could tell. He knew the face of every guard, their habits and their schedules. Will counted 44 steps to the staircase, 10 descending steps, followed by a left turn: then a count of 56 steps to that fucking room.

Along with all this, the other thing churning in his mind was the why; why were they kept alive?

If their kidnappers wanted payback for Lorea, Will and the others would have been executed on the spot, or delivered to what’s left of Lorea’s men. If this was about ransom, which was a possibility, they’re being kept alive for money.

Another observation Will made was this; the men were getting lazy and too comfortable. He's taken the beatings, fought back, and watched at the same time. His time to act is soon approaching.

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[ljf613]

1, 9, and 10 for Encanto :)

1. the character everyone gets wrong Not a specific character, per se, but I think people tend to misunderstand what's really happening in "We Don't Talk About Bruno"-- and, by extension, how the Madrigals (and the rest of the Encanto) actually feel about Bruno. At face value, the song claims that nobody talks about Bruno because he's creepy and weird and bad luck they all kind of hate him. Which may make a little bit of sense if all we were shown was that one song... but when you actually look at the whole movie, it doesn't add up. If we'd rather pretend Bruno doesn't exist, why is he being painted into brand-new murals featuring a nephew he's never met? Why are we even going into a whole long rant about how much we don't like him instead of hushing it all up? Why would he be the one consulted when Mirabel didn't get a gift? Why does Julieta tell Mirabel that Bruno "lost his way in this family"? Why does Abuela argue that "Bruno didn't care about this family"? And why is everyone so quick to welcome him back at the end-- not to mention absolutely ecstatic about his return? Because the real reason they're all so upset is not because of Bruno's gift-- it's because he left. They're angry and hurt that he would pick up and disappear without a word of explanation. They feel betrayed. And they also feel guilty, because deep down they think that their displeasement with his prophecies might have driven him away. And those aren't pleasant feelings. They're painful and messy and extremely uncomfortable. It's just so much easier for everyone to tell themselves that they're better off without him. To think about all the reasons they shouldn't want him around. To say that they don't need to blame themselves because Bruno was the one who was always in the wrong. To focus on all the little wounds and resentments of the past rather than on the gaping hole that's been left in their lives. Because the truth is that they all love Bruno just as much as he loves them. (I also think a lot of people fundamentally misunderstand Mirabel's motivations and character arc, but that's a rant for another time.)

9. worst part of canon I don't like the way that, right in the middle of the story, Dolores is suddenly treated like a blabbermouth who doesn't know how to keep her mouth shut. This makes no sense. We know that Dolores can keep a secret-- not only did she manage to hide her crush from everyone, she also knew exactly where Bruno was for ten years without ever telling anyone. Not to mention that she can literally hear everything going on in the entire town, which means she probably knows lots of secrets that she's kept to herself.

10. worst part of fanon People who include DNIs in their fanfics. (Especially when they do it in the tags. Those are supposed to be used to explain what the actual story is about! They're there to help the readers!) Imagine trying to police who can and can't read your publicly posted stories because you don't agree with what ships they like.

Send me an ask that may incite violence.

[watermelonsloth]

What I Ship Because I’ve Been Semi-Vague

I talk about shipping a lot, but since I talk about whatever’s popular over what I actually like (this may or may not change), you might not know what I actually ship. Or you do because you stalked me or read the few fanfictions that I posted here and will probably move because it’s weird to have fanfics on a mostly commentary focused blog.

Regardless, for anyone who’s interested, here’s what I actually do like. Also, just to make sure that all of my credibility goes down the toilet, all accept one (maybe two) of these is a crackship.

The Ships I Sold My Soul To

These are the ships I like the most. Yes, I’ve already imagined AUs with them and I’ve given them all children. I promise I have a thought process that makes sense (to me) behind them all. However, I don’t want to turn this into a 100,000 word essay, so I’ll try to summarize what I like about them in 1-2 (potentially run-on) sentences. Just know, there’s more to all of these.

NejiNaru (Neji Hyuga x Naruto Uzumaki) - Both characters had their lives decided/changed at birth against their will, but walked out of it with vastly different perspectives. This combined with them having complimentary personalities makes me think that they could have very positive impacts on each other’s lives if they were given just a bit more time to get invested in each other.

GaaSaku (Gaara x Sakura Haruno) - Both characters would greatly benefit from having (emotional) support in a relationship and both characters are deathly loyal to a fault. They also both need and have different perspectives that they wouldn’t hesitate in sharing with each other.

SasuIno (Sasuke Uchiha x Ino Yamanaka) - Both are highly confident, independent people who wouldn’t take shit from each other (which is important when both absolutely pull some shit). They’re also loyal to anyone who earns it, are very driven, don’t stand for people getting hurt unjustly, care deeply for their clans and clan traditions, and roll their eyes at their friends’ shenanigans despite everyone knowing that they’d both kill and die for them.

ChouTen (Chouji Akimichi x TenTen) - They are similar in the best ways and different where it counts. TenTen would motivate Chouji to work harder then complain with him about how hard it is to work hard and Chouji would absolutely help her have more faith in ninjas being able to become great with hard work alone.

ShikaKiba (Shikamaru Nara x Kiba Inuzuka) - Like Sasuke and Ino, they come across as very different on the outside but have a lot of similarities when you dig a little deeper. Along with them being good to have in each other’s lives, each other’s families would also be good influences on them (Shikamaru would benefit from being around very expressive and strong female role models, and Kiba would benefit from being around patient people with higher IQs).

TemaHina (Temari x Hinata Hyuga) - They could relate with each other when it comes to growing up as the older sisters trained to be weapons since birth overlooked in favor of their very talented younger siblings with physically absent moms and emotionally absent, abusive fathers that are not only skilled ninja but also hold great social-political power, but they could still offer each other different perspectives. Temari could help Hinata gain more confidence and stand up for herself while Hinata can help Temari learn how to approach situations with kindness rather than the anger/violence that’s been taught to her.

ShinoLee (Shino Aburame x Rock Lee) - These two are so fucking different and they cover each other’s blind spots so fucking well. Rock Lee is very passionate and memorable, but he doesn’t realize he can rely on others (seriously, he does everything alone) while Shino doesn’t have direction and is insecure about not sticking out, but he’s characterized as being very aware of the importance of teamwork, even when it’s with people outside of team 8.

KakuDei (Kakuzu x Deidara) - Both characters value respect and strength, are able to keep a clear mind even when their short tempers get the better of them, and are deceptively intelligent. Kakuzu could also benefit from taking more risks and Deidara could benefit from keeping his head on the ground, both of which the other could force help them to do.

ItaHida (Itachi Uchiha x Hidan) - Both of them are so devoted to their beliefs that it’s actually a problem (they both only think inside the box and are the opposite of self aware) and both of them would jump at the opportunity to call the other out on it. In the cases where they wouldn’t be able to influence (Itachi making Hidan a bit more patient, Hidan making Itachi more willing to call out bullshit, etc) or call out each other enough to change, they’d be able to easily cover for the other’s weaknesses (like, so easily that they’d be a horrific combat pair).

KisaSaso (Kisame Hoshigaki x Sasori) - These two know what it’s like to believe one thing for years and years then have your worldview shattered in an instant, making them potentially very affirming for each other. They both also value honesty and commit when they decide to trust someone or do something because of their past experiences.

Comfort Ships

These are the ships that I don’t have too much reason behind (even if there is some), I’m not super committed to finding or making content for, and I don’t really think of them in any deep or sophisticated or analytic way. They’re comfy, they’re chill, and that’s all I want them to be.

SasuKarin (Sasuke Uchiha x Karin Uzumaki) - I’ve read so many think pieces about these two and their relationship that this was inevitable. I did this to myself.

ChouSaku (Chouji Akimichi x Sakura Haruno) - They both have body image issues and a deep love for their friends. They are so fluffy, I want them to cook together, and their child would be nicknamed Cherry.

LeeSaku (Rock Lee x Sakura Haruno) - Their development during the Chunin Exams still lives rent free in my brain and they’re both such romantics. This one I switch in and out of shipping.

LeeHina (Rock Lee x Hinata Hyuga) - They have a weird amount of similarities and they’d be cute. That’s it.

SasuHina (Sasuke Uchiha x Hinata Hyuga) - They look nice together and have a bit of a night sky aesthetic. This one is the one that I think about the least, like, I’m not entirely sure if I actually ship them or I just like looking at fanart of them.

[blot-squisher]

@bellalizard @ninthsheep ask and yee shall receive! Even if it is super late

SFW Alphabet Ask Meme for Surviving the Game The Oni

A = Affection (How affectionate are they? How do they show affection?) Kazan is more reserved about showing his feelings, especially in a way that might cause others to perceive him as weak. As well, he rarely shows any kind of affection in public settings, not wanting the person/people he cares for to be used against him or targeted by his enemies.

B = Best friend (What would they be like as a best friend? How would the friendship start?) Kazan doesn't have 'friends'. He has a few people he respects as he considers them equals, but that's not an easy thing to accomplish...

C = Cuddles (Do they like to cuddle? How would they cuddle?) He will seat you on his lap and you will sit there until he lets you go...

D = Domestic (Do they want to settle down? How are they at cooking and cleaning?) All things considered, Kazan has technically already settled down. Living in solitude atop a high mountain, he's as content as he can be in the world he now finds himself in. He cooks and cleans for himself and expects others to do the same unless they've hired someone to do it for them.

E = Ending (If they had to break up with their partner, how would they do it?) Most likely by breaking their skull...

F = Fiance(e) (How do they feel about commitment? How quick would they want to get married?) Kazan has already committed to and lost one love. He will not do so again. He will still find ways to satisfy his desires, but he doesn't care for the idea of remarrying.

G = Gentle (How gentle are they, both physically and emotionally?) The Oni was born from anger and violence. Kazan may have a better handle on it now, but it will always be there below the surface. He doesn't believe in speaking with the intention of hurting people simply for the sake of causing them pain, but he will use the truth (oftentimes as he perceives it).

H = Hugs (Do they like hugs? How often do they do it? What are their hugs like?) Do you want to die? Because if you try to hug him you will die. If he decides to hug you, let it happen. It might feel somewhat like a mountain just grew arms and scooped you up, but hey. At least he's not killing you...

I = I love you (How fast do they say the L-word?) Never. Much like with marriage, his commitment to a partner lived and died with her, and to speak such a word to another would be a betrayal of her memory.

J = Jealousy (How jealous do they get? What do they do when they’re jealous?) Jealousy is for the weak and envious. There's nothing to be jealous of when you're the best of the best.

K = Kisses (What are their kisses like? Where do they like to kiss their partner? Where do they like to be kissed?) Kazan doesn't really kiss... obvious reasons... However, he is very much into being kissed anywhere on his body. It's fine. You can worship him.

L = Little ones (How are they around children?) Believe it or not, he's quite good with children. They're innocent and honest, seeing the world around them unclouded by rage and full of curiosity.

M = Morning (How are mornings spent with them?) Quiet, contemplative, and usually with a cup of tea.

N = Night (How are nights spent with them?) Relaxing after a long day of hard work and training. One should never let their skills fall by the wayside.

O = Open (When would they start revealing things about themselves? Do they say everything all at once or wait a while to reveal things slowly?) It is incredibly rare for Kazan to open up to anyone. The past is best left alone as it cannot be changed. Dwelling on it only causes more pain.

P = Patience (How easily angered are they?) Anger is Kazan's basic state of existence. How driven he is to act upon it and how strongly is directly related to if he takes the offence personally or not...

Q = Quizzes (How much would they remember about their partner? Do they remember every little detail they mention in passing, or do they kind of forget everything?) Kazan remembers everything about his wife. From the smell of her hair to the sound of her laugh, the way her eyes would light up when she smiled...

R = Remember (What is their favorite moment in their relationship?) The day his son was born. He didn't know his heart could possible be more full of love until he held the squalling newborn in his arms for the first time.

S = Security (How protective are they? How would they protect their partner? How would they like to be protected?) Kazan will scour the earth for those he considers a threat or an insult. If you've crossed him in any way, he will find you and he will make you pay.

T = Try (How much effort would they put into dates, anniversaries, gifts, everyday tasks?) All important tasks should be done with the utmost dedication and care. If something is to be done, it needs to be done right.

U = Ugly (What would be some bad habits of theirs?) Kazan was raised with a very heavy emphasis on respect and pride. Due to that, he expects to be shown respect as he shows it when he is in someone else's home, unless they are in a station far beneath his own that is.

V = Vanity (How concerned are they with their looks?) He's an Oni. Looks are no longer of any concern.

W = Whole (Would they feel incomplete without their partner?) There will always be a hole in his heart from the loss of his wife. Nothing will ever fill that and no one will ever come close to the love he felt for her.

X = Xtra (A random headcanon for them.) He loves having his hair brushed or played with. This is one of the only times he'll allow physical contact in a setting he isn't in control of.

Y = Yuck (What are some things they wouldn’t like, either in general or in a partner?) Disrespect of any kind will not be tolerated, nor will disobedience. Know your place.

Z = Zzz (What is a sleep habit of theirs?) There is no sneaking up on him. Years of hunting and being hunted have made Kazan an incredibly light sleeper.

[buzzcharacters]

The Speaker - Thistle in the Weeds

Non-binary (she/her) - 36 moons - Ace Biromantic - Single

The Speaker was a strange cat from the moment she was born. Able to see the ghosts of cats who were deceased with nowhere to go, interacting with living beings got harder and harder for her the less and less she did it. After moving to the Clan territories and establishing herself in the local graveyard, she figured she'd just settle in and live a peaceful life with her spirits - helping them get messages to still living loved ones and all that. But when ShadowClan moved in, intent on getting the graveyard as a piece of their territory, her idyllic life was shattered.

Personality:

driven, with purpose, loyal to her cause, odd, creepy, intelligent, wary, observant, mistrustful, prefers the dead to the living

The Speaker is defined, literally, by what she does. She speaks for those who do not have voices of their own (the dead), and is quite driven and motivated toward this purpose. While she no longer often does it for other people, it’s important to her to make sure everyone, even those passed, have a voice. It’s her purpose, the meaning behind her gift. If the dead ever come to her with a request, even if it is just to talk, she is always eager to lend a listening ear and try to fulfill anything they may ask of her - within reason, of course. The Speaker is, at her core, a good person, so a vengeful spirit would have a hard time getting her to enact any sort of revenge or violence against those still living.

The only loyalty she can remember feeling is toward her ghostly companions. As such, she has become loyal to her cause, which extends now to protecting the living from the beast the dwells within the graveyard. While she may be a speaker, she considers herself also a protector, unwilling and unable to watch anyone get hurt solely because the Ancient One hungers. The Speaker rarely leaves the graveyard for this very reason, even if the voice of the Ancient One is starting to grate on her nerves.

To many cats, The Speaker is odd. She very rarely blinks, and her eyes look quite large on her narrow face. That alone would be enough to classify her as creepy, but her actions and the way she speaks further drives this point home. The Speaker often jumps between referring to herself as “I” and as “We”, though this makes sense to her. When she is speaking to and for spirits, she thinks that the all inclusive ‘we’ makes more sense, even if it might unsettle other cats. She also tends to speak slowly, as if she is considering every word, and tends to stare at or past whomever she is addressing.

When she isn’t speaking for the ghosts, The Speaker is using her paws to create. She’s incredibly crafty, something that has helped her with protecting the graveyard. She finds it easy to use nimble paws to weave sticks and vines together, to dig shallow pitfalls to scare others away. Alongside this, The Speaker is intelligent, both logically and emotionally. She has to be - spirits can be tricksters and try to get away with things that The Speaker would never allow. Being able to discern a cat’s intentions from body language and voice alone is one of her skills.

Through her travels, The Speaker has grown more cautious. She knows that cats are not inherently good, that you are born a blank slate and it’s up to you what you become. She’s met many cats who aren’t afraid to kill to get what they want, and are followed by the ghosts of their victims as they scream for vengeance. Because of this, The Speaker doesn’t trust easily, especially when it comes to living cats. It’s no secret that she tends toward preferring the dead to the living, as they’re who she’s been surrounded by and encouraged by for most of her life.

Family:

Father - Hunter - Deceased Mother - Caretaker - Deceased

Brother - Oldest Son - Deceased Sister - Youngest Daughter - Deceased

Timeline:

cw for car accidents (moon 2), graverobbing (moon 24), grave desecration (moon 24), death (moon 30) throughout timeline.

00 Moons: Born to Caretaker and Hunter alongside two other kittens. They are a part of a group, but that group's beliefs include being on your own to raise your kittens and, when they are of age, they can choose to join the group.

02 Moons: She starts hearing voices and seeing cats that her family cannot see. Her mother informs her that she has 'the gift', but only elaborates insofar as to say the cats she is seeing are ghosts.

02 Moons: Being the youngest, Speaker remains behind with her mother as her father begins teaching her siblings how to hunt. They are struck by a passing car while trying to cross the road.

03 Moons: Being raised the sole kitten for a moon, Speaker allows her mother to stay in contact with the rest of their family, as their ghosts follow her around. She learns how to hunt from her mother, but neither are very good at it.

03 Moons: Caretaker gets sick and dies, leaving Speaker to care for herself. The ghosts of her parents continue to guide her and teach her basic hunting and fighting skills.

06 Moons: Gets caught up in a group of cats. The leader of the group has a lot of spirits following him, and they all try to warn Speaker to stay away. She eventually complies, but not before warning some of his other followers.

08 Moons: Word spreads through the area of a cat who can speak to ghosts. Some seek her out and ask her to speak to their dead loved ones, and for the most part she does in exchange for food and shelter.

10 Moons: Speaker picks her name ("The Speaker") as she has become a voice for the wayward spirits in the area. However, the pressure of everyone always asking things of her and using her gift for themselves starts to get to her, and she begins to plan an escape from the village.

11 Moons: Speaker escapes her current group with the help of a cat she knows only as Worm. They ask nothing of her and keep her escape quiet.

18 Moons: After many long moons of travelling, Speaker has grown used to only the dead for company. She eventually stumbles upon a strange flat area covered in crooked stones. Many ghosts haunt the grounds, and Speaker decides this might be a good place for her.

21 Moons: Though she has made her home in the graveyard, there is an area The Speaker has not dared explore yet. After three moons, she decides to take a look. The area saps her strength, and as she gets closer she can hear an ancient voice, hungering for weak spirits. Perturbed by this, she retreats.

21 Moons: Deciding that the cemetery can be very dangerous, Speaker begins warding off intruders. The first group she scars off is a ShadowClan patrol, using carefully made traps.

23 Moons: Speaker begins to notice spirits going missing from the graveyard, and eventually figures out that they're being consumed by the one she knows only as 'The Ancient One'. Speaker tries to contact them again, but cannot make out anything they say except for the fact that they hunger for more. Unsettled, Speaker wonders what this means for the living. Through observation, Speaker learns that it can mostly only harm ghosts, and is only active sporadically and rarely. She tries to document the active times and when (if at all) they manage to harm living cats.

23 Moons: A good cat by nature, The Speaker decides to protect both spirits and living by banning entrance to the graveyard to any mortal cat.

24 Moons: The Speaker begins planning and enacting plans to make the graveyard undesirable to anyone who may pass by. She painstakingly creates shallow pitfalls (surprising, but able to be crawled out of), rudimentary snares, and even misplaced bones (after asking permission from the spirits they belonged to). She manages to convince the ghosts to help her keep others out. The bones she arranges are put back by the human groundskeeper, and she does not make another attempt.

25 Moons: Not long after her traps have been set, another patrol of cats smelling the same (ShadowClan) make another attempt at claiming the graveyard. This time, the Speaker takes a more active role in convincing them otherwise. She stands, almost completely obscured by the fog, and simply stares at the group from a distance. Around her, the spirits make shapes in the mist and what eerie noises they can that the other cats are likely able to just make out. All it takes is a few bumps and nudges, claws of cold in the pelts of the cats, and they're convinced she's a ghost and leave. The rumours about a ghost haunting the graveyard grow more common.

26 Moons: Much of The Speaker's time is monopolized by trying to keep creatures out of the graveyard. A few slip through, but she always eventually manages to scare them out either through her ghastly appearance or the help of ghosts. The territories nearby begin spreading word of a malicious spirit that keeps cats out of the graveyard. She manages to scare off a few groups of young twolegs as well, using the spirits to aid her in making the area unappealing.

28 Moons: Cats from that persistent group make another attempt at the graveyard. By this point, the Speaker can tell they know something is up, as they are bringing gifts and trying to communicate with her, though they seem completely unaware of what. It starts much the same, with her standing in the gloom where the group can only partially see her, with her friendly spirits helping her to convince them (through spooky actions) to leave. However, one warns her that a young cat has broken from the group and is wandering toward The Ancient One, this being a night it is active. Panicked, The Speaker gets her spirits to cover for her, warping the mist as best they can as she races to save the young cat. They only just make it, with the young cat at the maw of The Ancient One. The Speaker grabs them by the scruff and forcefully drags them away until they come back to themselves, and once they do they flee the rest of the way to the group. After that (the Speaker misses the conversation) the group leaves in a hurry.

30 Moons: One day, a human manages to get through her traps and evade her long enough to get to the bad part of the graveyard. The Ancient One manages to influence some of the spirits around to drag the human toward them, and they use their impressive force to make a large tree fall on the human. Their spirit is absorbed before The Speaker can try to figure out if she can influence human spirits and get them out of the area. She realizes just how dangerous the Ancient One is, and how important her job has become.

32 Moons | Site Moon 0: Repeated ShadowClan intrusions on her territory begins to irritate the Speaker, and she starts forming plans on how to keep them out. One such plan requires more contacts with other stray cats, and the Speaker starts forging relationships with the inhabitants of the lawless lands beyond the Clans. She resists the temptation to just let the Ancient One have the ShadowClan cats.

33 Moons | Site Moon 1: The Speaker is shocked when she watches the sky fall and destroy one of the Clan territories. While the Speaker feels no sympathy for Clan cats after ShadowClan's constant invasion of her home, her thoughts do flicker back to Cinderflower. Wasn't that her home?

34 Moons | Site Moon 2: Despite her better judgement (and the urging of her trusted spirits), the Speaker ventures onto the former ThunderClan territory. She very quickly leaves - the sound of many distraught spirits unnerves her more than it ever has before, and she vows to go back and try to lay some to rest when she can. For now, though, she had to return to protect her home.

Extras:

Originally adapted from a site adopt on Thistle in the Weeds in May of 2022, she evolved quickly into her own character.

The later portion of her timeline draws from major site events - any other iterations of this character have those connections removed.

Other Iterations:

Bones Like Bare Roots

Hybrids AU

[vaovalis]

Met some new friends.  We went and had an utterly lovely walkabout.  Killed hundreds of demons, and I guess Thorn Mages, who, as it turns out, apparently aren’t demons themselves.    We then kicked the shit out of their scraggly doom tree. That tree hated me.  I’ve never felt so uniquely hated by a plant before, but it was so.   I needed that outing.  Paragon City has its charms, but let there be no mistake about what’s true and what will forever be wishful thinking - I am a violent creature, and I am not sad about it.   Every day I live in places like Paragon, I’m lying by omission and by suppression.  I’m hiding things that can’t remain hidden forever.  I’ve never lied to anyone in anything I’ve said, but I’ve deliberately refrained from telling most of my new friends a wide variety of things because it became quickly apparent that they would not be pleased to know such things in the first place. Why get into a tangle nobody needed in the first place when you can see it coming and avoid the whole mess by just not talking about certain things? Most of my new friends aren’t like me. I can tell that. They don’t like the chaos and the fury of conflict like I do.  Sure, some of them might need to blow off some steam and might get on with the violence to the extent that they must when they must.    They don’t seem to me to long for it though. Most of them seem to me to yearn for quite the opposite - an end to such things.  But there can be no end to such things.  That’s got nothing to do with me or how I feel or what I think about anything either - reality, in every aspect I can see or sense or feel, is driven by conflict. Everything that happens as an act of change is an act of creation and destruction, and the violence never ends.  It’s just that some violence goes unrecognized for what it is because it doesn’t hurt the ones having the opinions, much like how nobody would ever think they’re engaging in an act of carnage by the common acts of eating things. I don’t feel bad about it. I didn’t design reality - ain’t my fault that things work how they work.  And at a fundamental level, I refuse to deny reality. Things work how they work.  I’ve never seen anything that suggests that reality gives a damn how any of us feel about that.  And me?  I made my peace with it long ago.   What I’m not interested in accepting is this notion that humanity here on Primal Earth is the omnigod of all things, that gets to tell everyone what they must be and how they may do things and what is appropriate and what is intolerable. These new folks I met had an awful lot to say about all of this, and every single word they had to say about it sounded like words I would’ve been saying if I’d had their experiences and thought to articulate my feelings on them. I’ve found people that fucking get me, and not just the parts of me they find comfortable or amusing or harmlessly eccentric. So,  after we murderburned our way through hundreds of demons, we took a break. Did our own thing for a while. It’d been too long since I’d been able to really cut loose and not hold back lest I worry someone I didn’t wish to worry, so I had a lot of fun with that and needed to rein myself back in.  Needed a beat to recompose myself and make myself socially presentable again.  And I was hungry.   And then these delightful people invited me along on a madcap adventure to blow up all kinds of crap and morons, which culminated in getting to see a true wonder of this world; a creature they called Leviathan. What a magnificent terror!  We only got to see one of its eyes and part of its head, but even that was astounding.  I was thrilled to bear witness to such a remarkable creature’s existence, and that’s a moment that’s going to stick with me forever. This is the kind of thing I need more of in my life. I’m done hiding. I can’t want to do it anymore.   Folks will just have to deal if they can or not if they can’t.   I ain’t going back into the box.

[ineffable-rohese]

Sounds like "Rose"

New pinned post! Cause some stuff needs updated. :)

Demographic info: Mid 40s white fat queer poly pagan genderfluid transmasc human living in the wet corner of North America. The genderfluid thing is newly realized and shiny and I’m sure I’ll be talking about it often over the next... while.

Personal (public facing): I'm an Aziraphale-coded hobbit. Like, so cozy and wholesome you might want to puke. I rewatch just the first disc of the LOTR extended edition because I love the Shire so much. I drink Earl Grey with milk and one sugar. (Or a good scotch, cause every Aziraphale needs a little bit of Crowley inside them, right Sheenie?) Outside of fic, I read mainly historical fiction, especially anything set in (actual, not fantasy) medieval Europe and I was at one point a medieval music history nerd. I wear cozy sweaters. I love rain on ferns and April flowers. I make soup with things I've tended and harvested. I work a Wholesome AF job. I unironically hug trees. I'm in love with the world.

Personal (in private): I'm kinky and loving it. I'm primarily a Sensual Sadist with a significant Dominant streak. I often play as a Panther. I love consensual violence, and get great joy from hurting people who want me to hurt them. 

Fandoms: I fell in love with Good Omens in 2000 when a college roommate gave it to me. It was genuinely the funniest, greatest thing I had ever read, and I evangelized about it to anyone who would listen. S1 of the show immediately became a comfort show, and it got me through a time of massive loss and upheaval. I put it on when everything was too hard and I needed something that made me feel like it would be OK. S2 - well we're all here still, aren't we? It dropped when I desperately needed One Good Thing for my brain to latch on to as I got through some intense pressure, and boy howdy did it lodge itself in me. (I’m deeply upset about NG’s actions, but I’m also not about to throw away something so personally meaningful because one asshole involved made some really shitty choices.)

Other fandoms in roughly chronological order: Star Wars (original trilogy made me a child nerd), X-Files (first real social fandom, and intro to fanfic!), Buffy/Angel/Firefly, LOTR, Doctor Who, Torchwood (the only other show I've been driven to write fic for). OFMD and WWDITS are great fun, though not obsessions. Any of these and more might show up.

My Writing: Writing Index Here I’ve written nearly 100K of fic in the past year! My writing signatures are vivid sensory descriptions and kinky smut. Some angst, some fluff, some really dark stuff. My Ineffables tend to be deeply in love but also kinda fucked up in their own special ways. I’m still writing, a bit slowly at the moment due to Life, but there’s some great stuff in my docs I can’t wait to share when it’s ready.

What I post/don’t post: This is my fun space filled with things that I find interesting and/or bring me joy. Expect lots of Good Omens, GO Extended Universe (aka anything Tennant and/or Sheen), queer and kink-related content, other fandom things, my writing including NSFW snippets (below a cut if I remember), fat/body positivity, cats, nature awesomeness, things that make me laugh. Posts I write off the cuff as I wake up in the morning seem to be the ones that get shared, for some reason. I almost never post about current events unless it’s good news. The world is full of fear and despair; I try to keep this space one of hope and joy. There will be NSFW content on the regular (because kink, sex, and other such adult activities are a joy for me), so if you’re uncomfortable with that, I’m not the person to follow.

Tags: Honestly, I’m inconsistent about tags so please don’t rely on my tags for your safety. I do try to spoiler tag things if it’s close to when something comes out, but other than you’re at the whims of my ADHD.

Yay! I bring back my cats as a gift for reading all of this.