#the state of the internet is in fucking shambles

[bardicious]

I'm getting actually quite sick of all the rampant antisemitism as of late. Y'all literally deserve the worst. Go fuck yourselves.

[nova2kss]

Influencer island

“GOOD MORNING AMERICAAAA”

“I’m your host Yanna Bailey and we are back here on the influencer island”.

“On the previous episode we introduced the men that dared to step foot on this island and you guys went absolutely wild!”

“I know we picked a top tier cast but damn, #theinfluencerisland number 1 trending on twitter?”

“You bitches are eating it up, so I know for a fact when we introduce these ladies yall are going to be in absolute shambles.”

“Starting off hot as HELL”

“….sorry y’all I had to take a breath.”

“It’s Mikasa fucking Ackerman”

“I fucking love her okay! And I’m not gon lie I don’t know if ima be able to host this show…you can’t put Mika in a room with Yanna cause ima jump on this woman bones.”

“Anywho.. Mika is a celebrity nail tech and hair dresser, you’ve seen her on tour with Victoria Monet, Megan the stallion, so many more but most importantly ? Cardi B!”

“Yes the girl who gives cardi those gorgeous claws and the girl who be giving cardi that long ass weave that be tickling her ass crack that is THE Mikasa Ackerman.

Aside from her gorgeous looks and work she is a party animal and you can see her turning up in multiple crowds of the artists that she stays with…let’s see if she can bring that same energy to the island.”

“Gosh I am so excited to introduce this next hottie, she so soft spoken but I heard she gives it up pretty wild off the camera, as you know she is a pretty new influencer so I think she’s coming in here with something to prove.”

“The gorgeous blonde baker Historia Reiss”

“So off topic but her name is sooo cute”

“Historia went viral showing her tremendous cooking skills back in mid 2023, and since then she’s been going viral for baked goods and beauty.”

“But let’s not forget about the time this little firecracker whooped ass at a Fourth of July party THIS YEAR!”

“Something that not only myself but the fans were not excepting, I know you guys are gonna be so happy to see her on here”

“We’ve seen how Historia gives it up in the in the kitchen, we’ve seen how she gives it up in the field, now it’s time to see if she can hang with these animals on this island”

“As stated she is pretty like an angel but the call her the devil…(there were no lies told)”

“Sasha braus first rose to fame on TikTok reviewing foods and looking so hot with that gorgeous maroon hair”

“You can see her with the talented man himself Jean Kristen, according to them they are childhood best friends and we’ve seen Jean and party mode but never sash…that’s gonna change on this island.”

“Sasha was ranked on the 2024 top 20 comedians list at #12, I can honestly see why everyone loves Sasha pretty, hilarious, and relatable… mhm she’s gonna fit right in here”

“Calypso, calypso, calypso…mhm girl you are gonna get me in TROUBLE”

“This short haired hottie calypso blue has been on a longgggg break from the internet and the only time we’ve seen her is when she popped outside with her influencer bestie y/n”

“And mind y’all we only knew it was her cause of them famous short hair..”

“Well let me tell yall, after a damn near year long hiatus she has popped out and boy oh BOY!”

“This girlie done came back with some longer hair, and some Tatts…?? We already knew calypso blue was a hottie but this?? Oh she is taking it hunty”

“The intro is no longer needed calypso blue is here and you’ll be seeing her first hand on influencer island.”

“…..I don’t like this bitch.”

“But it’s my job to introduce her.”

“Ummm so i really don’t know who picked her BUT this is Pieck finger, she’s a black haired bitch who party’s a lot fucked porco on video tried to get at my nigga and I’m probably gonna beat her ass.”

“On a brighter note we know she can party cause it’s all she does, no questions asked she could get as wild as the other guys and gals…NEXT”

“Our next and final blondie is Mrs. Hitch”

“And according to her Rihanna’s faviorite which I’m pretty sure the whole internet disagrees with but..I digress.”

“Beautiful girl who rose to fame back in 2022 being spotted with Rihanna and I mean if you’re being spotted with someone as big as mofucking riri you think we not finna check you out?”

“But besides being ri right hand women it’s time to see what else hitchey can do…you know without the co-sign ”

“The beautiful Ryan!!”

“Ryan is the owner of the ASOS clothing brand which is a brand for plus sized men and women.”

“She became very popular on TikTok while promoting her clothing brand and since then she’s taken off with so many sells, fans and followers”

“We know she can design the hell out some clothes but I wanna know what it she gonna do once her toes hit this sand.”

“As y’all known she’s known to be a shy girl and doesn’t party much…BUT WE CANT BE HAVIN THAT HAIR”

“So we gone need Ryan to come up out her shell and hopefully survive on this long awaited journey”

“And finally we have the beauty, the mogul, the TOP influencer y/n”

“She needs to intro we all know her”

“And we all love her”

“She is THE beauty influencer, 9 time outta 10 if you’re searching tips and tricks you’re on her page scrolling endlessly”

“I’ve partied with this city girl before so I know how she gives it up now it’s your turn to see and boy I cannot wait for you to see, you guys fav isn’t as innocent as you think”

“Whew lord I pray for the beds in this house cause with these fine ass men and these gorgeous women I feel like they’ll be broke before we ever get to finish filming.”

“Know that you know which of your favs will be participating in the match a vote will be up shortly you can choose who you want to stay or go before they even get into the house, and remember to chose wisely after all you don’t want the wrong person to get that 1 million dollar check.”

“I’m your host Yanna Bailey signing out, make sure you stay tuned for the pilot of influencer Island.”

The girlies are here!!!! Sorry if I didn’t add an aot character that you wanted, I needed my sexy ocs to shine 😁

Idk if you guys peeped but I tried to do different shades of black for y/n but yea first ep coming soon and make sure to vote on the poll !!

❤️

[sleaterkinnie]

yeah we get it nobody wants to work the state of the world is in shambles i do not give a fuck and i do not want to keep seeing all these young women posting videos like "let's go back to when women didn't work!!" "I'm not oppressed when I stay at home and cook and clean all day!! Feminism is about choice dont shame me for my choices!" "I'm meant to wear little outfits and pretty makeup not go to work smh" and they always always always say it's just a satire it's just a joke etc etc.. do the tween girls on your feed know that?? do the young boys on the internet know that??? LIKE BITCH IF YOU DONT FUCKING STAND UP FOR YOURSELF AND YOUR AUTONOMY RIGHT NOW. WHAT YOU SAY AFFECTS OTHERS AND THE WAY THEY THINK WHETHER IT BE CONSCIOUSLY OR SUBCONSCIOUSLY. YOU ARE A PERSON WHO SHOULD BE ABLE TO DEPEND ON YOURSELF AND BE ABLE TO LIVE INDEPENDENTLY. YOU ARE SO ANNOYING !!!!

[alittlemoth]

A very self-indulgent licorice cookie x reader.

They are human in this but still use cookie terms because they were baked they just have human anatomy it's a whole au I made up don't worry about it or ask me about it I would really like to tell people about it moving on!

You did it. You finally managed to buy a little cabin in the woods away from the city and all the chaos of your world being linked up to another world, Earthbread. Something about a person getting stuck there via mystical magical bullshit and falling in love ehhhh not your problem you got a house damn it! A run down house, a house in shambles, but it has internet running water you just need to fix it up a bit!

You moved in everything that could fit in the little cabin, it has three bedrooms two bathrooms with a large bath each, a little kitchen and a small greenhouse attached to the house. Okay maybe it's not so little but the two extra rooms are in the basement and so is one of the bathrooms! And it was such a steal, it needs some renovations definitely but it's livable and it's mostly stuff you can do it by yourself!

As the weeks went by the cookies became more normal and so did fucking magic. Like magic is actually real, but again it's not your business not your problem you just want to be a little cabin goblin live your life tending to your plants and running your YouTube channel. Everything is going great the windows are insulated, so are the doors and walls, the heater is working in time for winter everything is going great for you.

That's when you met licorice cookie, digging through the trash like a raccoon.

"...What the fuck" you quietly said the stranger froze he had been digging through the trash.

He quickly pops up out of the garbage trying to explain himself you aren't paying attention cuz you recognize those robes that scythe and the skull necklace. "... Holy crap your licorice cookie"

He freezes again even more concerned even though he left the cookies of darkness most people aren't too fond of him

"o-okay I know how this looks!" His voice got an octave higher as he was clearly panicking trying not to get the police called on him "I'm just really hungry and very far from any town that wouldn't kick me out immediately, and I thought hey if it's in the trash it probably wouldn't be miss-"

You were just staring and then quietly asked if you wanted to come inside he accepted you fed him and now you apparently have a roommate cuz he hasn't left. You are fine with this but he didn't even say he was saying and you haven't asked him to leave so you just now have a roommate.

You two settled into a routine quickly. He helped with the housework and started to join you on videos. It got to the point where the chat would yell "string bean" every time he showed up in the background.

About two months ago you realized you caught feelings for the racoon as you called him.

You proceeded to do the most logical thing.

.

.

.

No I'm not joking you started flirting. For example-

Licorice was trying to perfect a spell to create more housework oriented minions, but to his dismay it requires materials from his home dimension. Where the one that got to listen to him troubleshoot.

"seriously you do not have anything like that in this dimension?" He practically begged, hoping that that would magically make you pull something similar out of thin air.

"unfortunately no we do not have plants that can grow eyes."

He then gave you one of the greatest opportunities in exasperation he mumbled "well fuck me then"

You grinned and got close putting a hand on his arm "are you offering?"

His eyes widened as he sputtered out a response."i- well- uh-" his face turning a deep purple "that's- that's not what I meant and you know it!"

You laughed and stated that yes you knew that, and that you loved how he looked when blushing. Which naturally made his blush worsen.

.

.

.

The flirting continues for about a month before he tells you to stop joking about liking him... Of course you react accordingly...

"you dense mother fucker" you whisper yelled as you throw both hands down like and put them together in with a deep inhale "I am not joking I actually like you"

One beat then another one more....

"...oh" he's standing there stunned as you say that almost like he doesn't believe it and whispers "I like you too".

You grin putting your hands on his face and whisper "may I?" He nods.

And then you share your first kiss together it's sweet soft, clumsy, but soft and when you both pull away you're both grinning.

And that's my first proper fanfiction hope you all enjoy!

[incredibly-delirious-biznasty]

I’m only going to weigh in on this once because all the hate is really bumming me out and I need to air out some thoughts.

I know you have all picked up on the themes of all this new music from our Emo Forebears. I will use My Chem as an example because I think they’re the most poignant example:

Think about their musical content up till this point. It’s about suffering and feeling misunderstood and we all loved it because we felt seen. My Chem had the reputation of being the Suicidal Girl band since long before it was seen as anything other than cringe. If you didn’t live through this time; if you have never experienced the feeling of “fuck it I’m gonna live like I’ll never see 30 because I’ll be dead long before then” it may be hard to understand just how special Foundations is.

You Must Fix Your Heart

The resurfacing of these emo bands are all the grown ass adults who were once barely out of their teens, saw a bunch of fucked up shit, many of them nearly died or were very near people who did, and here we are, decades later, still just living.

At a certain point, it’s fix yourself or give up. By give up I mean die. It’s heal or die.

So here we have a bunch of now adult musicians who have been through it, fixed themselves and are now thriving. They have an opportunity to share this wisdom with all those other young people who were just like the. The now-adult fans have done their own growing and fixing. It’s a beautiful thing, really.

Now consider Panic!

Yes, the ‘09 split was the end of the “real” PATD. However, Brendon and Spencer decided they wanted to keep trying. They loved making music, who could blame them for trying to a carry on the way they saw fit?

The transition between Vices and Virtues and Too Weird to Live is very important to the point I am trying to illustrate here.

The whole band was heavy into drugs. Spencer almost died from an overdose. Brendon even said in a statement about the state of the band that he didn’t realize that his friend was so deep into his addiction because he was fine. He admitted his shortcoming and I believe this incident was a serious realization and turning point for Brendon.

The tone between VaV and TWTLTRTD is markedly different. (Don’t @me about Dallon ok? That’s a whole different can of worms and y’all get too insane about that shit. If you’re ready for the real talk you can look up the legal credit given for writing on both those records and bring me the receipts, but most of y’all are not ready for that one yet) There is a turn toward the positive here that progresses throughout the “Shambling Corpse” solo albums.

Brendon was trying to find his positive growth while still doing what he loved, because unlike many others in the genre, it wasn’t about to kill him.

Now take a step back and look at the last, oh, let’s just say, half a decade. The amount of negativity, harassment, personal privacy invasion, along with all the other shit the internet has thrown at him. As stated previously: the majority of these controversies have been proven to be false. Brendon has stated many times that he doesn’t want to be famous. He wants to be able to be himself again and live his life without being harassed (whether it’s positive or negative intention)

He needs this break. He needs to heal. It tracks that the other bands that broke earlier are back with a new outlook, they had years to figure their shit out, one way or another.

Brendon hung around and has been being ground down to nothing in the public eye for nearly two decades.

I’m glad he’s finally taking his turn.

(If you’re interested in learning more about why Brendon was “cancelled” here is an excellent master list)

[akuma-homura]

seriously though i have seen people be so WEIRDLY defensive of Threads its absurd

like, no, i'm not saying the current state of internet privacy on other sites aren't also bad, I know many current social media feed off of our personal data. Internet Privacy in general is in shambles.

but I'm still not going to willingly fucking sign up to a new thing by fucking Facebook just because one site is going to hell in a handbasket, especially after the last few years and all the shit that's happened with facebook and our data???????????? Why would I add one more thing on top of the existing broken-internet-privacy shit pile?????

Besides, I'm not going to jump onto whatever new twitter-like so gung-ho. I've got Tumblr, I've got my mastodon, I've got Plurk, I've got dreamwidth. I've got my own neocities sites. I'm content with that.

[butch-bakugo]

Maybe im being defensive on a different blog or maybe im just tired of making excuses but it litterally pisses me off sometimes on how we as communties on this platform, refuse to even tap the glass surrounding the topic of a "dni" or "do not interact" as something that is, in truth, totally outlandish and entitled.

Its held up as everyone's special little perfect scroll that makes anyone a monster for not reading and completely adhereing to. Like its your fault for existing in the same space as someone who finds some innate thing about you triggering and its your fault their mental health is now in "utter shambles". How dare you exist in their space. How dare you not explore every aspect of them before mindlessly scrolling down after liking one of their posts. How dare you not read every piece of the fine print in their 20 paragraph 3 teir with 6 paths per teir caard before following them for 1 thing they post sometimes. How dare you step on their lawn. This blog is their property and they have every right to be upset when you step on it!!

Dude... Blogs are public property. Blogs are your little stall in a sea of a billion stalls at a festival held in a city park. Some people will stop and buy shit, other might spit at your feet. Others steal shit or yell at you and heres the reality...

You chose to put up the fucking stall.

You chose this public place. You picked it and decided to sit there and make things and wait. You cant check every customer and why would you? Why should they give you a pamplet of a billion facts of themselves before you could even consider allowing them to just merely stand infront of your stall? Why do i or anyone have to prove to you that we are "worthy" of your blog? Of your content? Why should we have to fit your mold to like a few pictures or pieces of art? Why do i have to sign in?

This is public property and yes, its my fault if i insult you or steal shit but you cant be a white karen and cry to the people crowded around your stall that i merely exist near yours. Thats why i utterly disregard them and will continue to because why?

Dnis are fucking stupid, it dosent stop the people you dont like and if your gonna beg for likes and reblogs, you cant pick who likes and reblogs it.

When i say this, people point out that i have a dni. But heres the thing. At the tippy top of mine, i state that i fully understand and expect it to be disregarded and not adhered to and thats honesty. I dont expect people to and why should i? Its merely a statement of me saying that these people are ones im going to advocate againest and thats it. What grinds my gears is the people who cry and scream and hurt themselves then beg for sympathy from their muturals because they "genuinely" expected it to be respected.

You genuinely expect people to care? When your blog is about cookie run character edits? When your blog is about winx club fanart? Why should they care? Its not my job to follow your rules on a public platform. Its not my job to check every blog i like or reblog from. Its not my job to make my existance something palatable to you and its not my job to respect something i dont have to.

The sickest part of all of it is that its so disconnected from reality. In reality, every person with more than 5 things on their dni has loved ones and close friends who would fit their dni and they don't cut them off like they try to cut at internet strangers. My own damn friends would meet my "dni", my mom would, my sister would. Dose that make them all horrible terrible bigots? Fuck no! It makes me realistic. Its this understanding that just because you dont know someone, one opinion of theirs that dosent align with yours on mundane shit, automatically makes that person a horrendous disguesting bigot who hurts everyone and should never be trusted again with no reason or ability to get better or become more educated or could educate you.

Ive had fully white people not touch important racial posts because im "panphobic". Ive had fully abled people ignore important disabled articles about our rights being taken away cause i support he/him lesbians. Like... The issues dont match each other and you need to be able to put the tumblrina bong down and hold hands aginest actual important issues when they arise instead of mundane fandom bullshit. I dont care if you like the dream smp when im trying to get you to spread more important info about sexism. I dont care if your a demipansexual pro-shipper when really fucking important info about climate change activists are dieing.

Like you gotta be able to step away for a moment and if you find yourself genuinely caring about stupid bullshit like "endogenic rights!!" in real life that dosent affect anything over any of the big 5 of oppression: mysogny, racism, lgbtphobia, ableism and classism... Then you need to step away and get a fucking grip. You need to breathe and leave. Stop like and a ride a bike. Delete and move feet. You get the point.

Get up and get out and get some perspective. None of it matters. Move on.

[chunkysoup22]

TELL US YOUR GHOSTBUR THOUGHTS pls

Ghostbursters: The Wilbur Soot Story

(a short essay by Jake Chunkysoup)

BASICALLY my main gripe with ghostbur is he

A. Was set up with the potential to be an influential and interesting character and then WASNT

B. Creates an afterlife system that is absolutely Stupid As All Hell

want to know more? read below! 👇

It's November 17th, 2020. One day after the leader of beloved nation L'manberg has just ended his life after crippling the entire country in a terror attack. From the rubble rises his ghastly visage, with a smile on it's face.

Ghostbur was introduced right after the iconic November 16th stream and people loved him. After weeks of watching cc!Wilbur act out a slow descent into madness and fearing that his character might never again be seen on the server(the three-life system having just been created) it was a pleasant surprise to see him reborn as the lovingly-nicknamed Ghostbur.

Many found his aloof and cheery personality both endearing and engaging, and loved the idea that their favorite streamers could return to the server as ghosts if they happened to lose all three lives. The most interesting aspect of Ghostbur was just how vastly different he was from his alive counterpart. Polite, shy and optimistic while Alivebur* was smug, confident and pessimistic, etc etc.

Viewers (myself included) felt this juxtaposition was important for Alivebur's character. Ghostbur made perfect sense as an attempt to redeem and de-villainize Alivebur. He seemed like a personified version of all the most 'good' parts of Alivebur-- all his good memories, his friendships with others, his loyalty to tommy, his remorse for his actions, etc etc etc. This would be THE redemption arc!

Then... the Wilbur revival stream happened.

Ghostbur is cast into the flames of hell limbo and into the world steps Revivebur**. Cc!Wilbur announces to the world that Ghostbur will never again be seen in the DreamSmp canon. When asked for further explanation, he states that Ghostbur and Wilbur Soot are in fact NOT the same character, but two separate ones that both exist at the same time. In mere hours the writing of the DreamSmp story is in SHAMBLES.

I can only believe that the reason Wilbur did it is because he is one truly sick and sadistic individual who gets his kicks from making people sad about his edgy OCs on the internet because any other person would realize how dumb as fuck that is.

It makes no damn sense for someone to have their living self trapped in the afterlife while having some random clone of themselves in the living world. It makes viewers less likely to be invested in ghost characters because they aren't even the actual version of themselves. If it's a different character entirely, why should I care? And how do they matter to the story?

I'd like to conclude with just one question. Allow me to ask you this:

If Ghostbur never existed... would anything important have changed?

----------

*: Wilbur pre-death, mainly during pogtopia arc.

**: Wilbur post his revival.

[redjaybathood]

rules for rulers

In three months since Bruce was away, things evolved past his expectations. GCPD was slowly expanding from Tricorner up north. Poison Ivy occupied Robinson Park and six neighborhoods surrounding it. That wasn't just a rumor: she allowed people there, on two conditions: they will sow, and they never step into the Park.

Penguin was running the trading market. Not only it was rumored that he had a pipeline to outside, he set up a way for the Gothamites, regardless of the 'boro they were from, to trade goods and services. He was taking a fee, so he didn't become altruistic at his not-so-old age. But his policy, apparently, has been to allow people a way to trade fairly and safely. There were smaller markets in other districts, but not quite as reputable as his.

Black Mask was dead, and Faceless Society didn't show their faces outside of Fashion District, except when they, who controlled the only working fabric and clothing factory, had to trade their products for food.

Two-Face was sitting in a courthouse. There were no laws or police in Gotham. But somehow, and it was yet unknown to Bruce how, people – gangs, GCPD left in the city, even Huntress – brought the ones who disturbed the tentative equilibrium to him. Thieves, mostly. He played judge, jury, DA, lawyer, and executioner. But to be fair, he did not actually execute anyone. Nobody even lost a limb. As far as Bruce could tell, the punishment to go was forced labor. It was dangerous, it was very tiring. Some people convicted by him died on the job. Still, it has been much, much more humane than Bruce was ready to give him credit for.

East Side was under the control of Huntress... And Batman and Batgirl. At first, Bruce thought that all three roles were played by her alone before he saw three of them together. All women – young girls, in the case of Batgirl and Batman. But they were competent. Batman was downright terrifying, in a way that Bruce has managed to pull off only when he was starting out and nobody knew what to make of him.

The rest of the city was controlled by gangs, and there were signs of struggle and shifting borders. But not for a long time.

Among them, not the biggest but the most concerning were Red Hoods.

They controlled the territory that was historically called Criminal Alley. It has been in the poor state even before the quake. It stands to reason it had to be in shambles now. Yet, Bruce saw the signs of clean-up and rebuild.

Most of it was done by forced laborers. They were invited to stay after their punishment was over, and join Red Hoods. It made some people more motivated. Most, though, chose to decline. They were deathly afraid of something. Or someone. And, remembering who wore this name previously, Bruce had his suspicions. But he could not confirm either way: nobody saw Joker in months.

Or Scarecrow. Scarface. Mad Hatter. A lot of other people that were let go by Arkham when the disaster hit.

In the center of the city, where the Clocktower was, resided Oracle. Barbara. His best ally. She served as an information hub of sorts. She had telephone and Internet, and people were coming and going there and back constantly. She also, as he had found some time later, controlled the city library, rescued the books, set up the only functional one in the whole Gotham city. A local paper was also distributed with her help.

Bruce couldn't wait to talk to her. He spent a few nights adapting to the new status quo, lurking here and there, listening to the conversations, and snooping for facts that would explain how things went in the city currently. But getting a sit rep that would catch him up to speed in a nice and organized manner sounded heavenly right now.

"It's a fucking nightmare, Bruce," Barbara started with after she pulled him inside her building. "You shouldn't have come back. You will not make it here."

"It's not worse than during the time when Deacon Blackfire's cult took over Gotham and the government temporarily excluded the city from the United States."

Barbara sighed heavily, rolling away to her computer. It was another voice who answered Bruce.

"Funny that. If every time Gotham was excommunicated by the US government I got a nickel, I would have two nickels. It isn't much, but more than you would expect. Maybe we should go ahead and secede for real?"

"Batman," Barbara said. "Meet Batgirl."

The girl in Huntress's colors and Barbara's design jumped down the rafters. It was someone Bruce already knew: Stephanie Brown.

Beside her, a shadow landed.

"Batman," Stephanie said with glee. "Meet Batman."

Batman gave Bruce a hand for the handshake. But when Bruce raised his, she immediately took her hand back and booped Bruce on his nose with another.

Stephanie exploded in giggles.

"Oh my, Helena will be so sorry she didn't see that."

"Batgirl," Barbara said sternly. Then she turned to Bruce apologetically. "I am sorry. Cassandra is a more sober person usually, but this is a debt she owed."

"Someone really wanted to punch you in the face," Stephanie said. "Cassandra talked him down to a prank instead. For someone who treasures her words even more than you, old man, she is a great negotiator."

"A debt," Bruce repeated. "Who did she owe? Nightwing? Robin? You?"

"Red Hood," Barbara said. "And before you ask, it is not Joker. It's someone worse."

"We are not even sure he's human, actually," Stephanie continued. "Seeing as he was literally riddled with bullets right before my and Cass's eyes, and then he just – gets up, and proceeds to murder the shit out of Roman Sionis. It traumatized Cass."

"He is an asshole," the Batman – Cassandra – said from where she was sitting on the windowsill.

"True," Stephanie nodded. "He's also the one who taught her that swear. She uses it against him."

"Why did she owe him a debt?"

"If it wasn't for him, the ones who were riddled with bullets would be me and Batman. It was just after a meta fucked with her head, so she wasn't on her best – it's a whole thing, actually."

Bruce nodded at her in acknowledgment and turned to Barbara.

"Anything else you could tell me about this new Red Hood? And how do you know he's not Joker?"

Barbara opened a video file.

It was a meeting between the Gotham Rogues, gang leaders, and, surprisingly, Gordon was present too. With Bullock as a backup.

Nobody knew who called the meeting, and things were tense before a duffle bag landed on the table.

Everybody got their weapons out. Before things started to get bloody, though, there was a mechanized voice.

"I don't want to kill any of you in particular. But this place is rigged to blow. If anyone starts shooting, I will kill all of you, and try with a new batch. Until I find people who are willing to discuss the state of things and the future of our glorious city as adults, not as scared shitheads with trigger-happy fingers."

The audience of this performance wasn't all that receptive to the naked threat. But they did manage to find him one bomb right underneath the table they have gathered around.

Gordon took over the situation, mostly by the sheer volume of his voice.

"Who are you? You promised us food, was that just to get us here? Why did you gather us here?"

"You can call me Joe, Sally, even Swamp Thing. I won't get upset either way. I honor all deals I strike, so yes, all of you will get a week’s worth of supplies to cover the contingent I estimated you have control over today. And the reason I asked you to come here is to show what's in that bag. Commissioner, if you would do me a favor of opening it."

"And if I don't?" Gordon looked justifiably skeptical.

"You will lose another week of supplies I would otherwise provide for your people."

Gordon and Bullock exchanged glances. Bullock shrugged.

"Let me do it, Commish. That alright with you?" Bullock called out to the person off-screen.

"Go ahead."

Bullock pulled the zipper slowly, as though expected there to be another bomb. Due to the camera angle, Bruce did not see what was inside.

"That real?" Bullock asked, his voice slightly hoarse.

"As real as it gets in Gotham. Now, everyone please take a step forward and get a closer look. I am not asking for anything more yet. You will receive the dry food I promised tonight in any case."

Others were wary, but they did comply. Some of them were unperturbed, for example, Poison Ivy, some were mildly surprised, like Harvey. Gordon looked disturbed. Others gave a bigger reaction – a gasp, a swear. Some gang leaders, with weaker stomachs, puked.

"And why did you invite us to look at a bag full of severed human heads?" Gordon asked.

"You know them well. Scarface had the biggest armory supplies in Gotham. Scarecrow had been cooking a new batch of the fear toxin, the one that makes people easily controllable. And Joker – I don't need to introduce him, do I? He was basically a part of the city's branding. If It can get to them, and any and all of their minions, do you think I cannot get to you?"

"Are you expecting to threaten us into submission?" Two-Face sneered.

"I am not threatening you. I am telling you what's going to happen. Any and all involuntary expansion of a gang's holdings will be punished by the death of all militant members. Any and all violence against a non-combatant will be punishable by death. Any involvement of children, no matter if voluntary or not, younger than 16, in any combat situation – it includes both an attack where they are targets or perpetrators – will be punishable by death. Those are my hard rules. Everything else could be figured out during our cooperation. I will supply food and help reach self-sufficiency to anyone who complies. I will kill everyone who doesn't. You have a week to discuss it among each other and among your people."

"I have a question," Poison Ivy said. "I don't have people. What exactly do I get out of this?"

"Oh, but you do, doctor Isley. She's waiting for you back home. I am not as stupid to threaten or bribe you. You're here just so all districts are represented."

"You think you can threaten me?" Two-Face sounded enraged.

"I don't threaten. You just wait and see, Harvey. I am honestly not a big fan of yours, so if you do anything stupid, off with your head and someone else will take your place."

"I will find you," Two-Face promised. "And I will kill you."

"A sentiment shared between all of us, believe me," Penguin said something for the first time the whole evening.

"Best of luck then. You do have a week."

The video was over.

"And they ended up agreeing to his agenda?" Bruce felt somewhat unreal.

Barbara shook her head slowly.

"Not at first. There was a blood bath. Two-Face tried to find Red Hood, but at this point, nobody even knew Red Hood existed. He didn't break any of the rules Hood set, though, unlike Sionis and some of the gangs. Eventually, an understanding was reached. I think Two-Face still wants to kill him, but he relishes in his position as well, so it's two warring impulses in him."

"How did your father agree?"

"It's a long story."

"It's not that long, actually," Stephanie becomes inserted herself into the conversation. "Food really doesn't grow on trees, you know. And he had motherfucking apples. Apples, old man."

"Anything else? Who is he, where is he from, who works for him, where does he get food from, where does he keep it..."

"It's not only the food. It's sun panel batteries, drugs, water filter, tools. He has anything you need to set up a colony on an unexplored planet. And nobody can find his stash, believe me, people died trying to find it. Who trained him, is the question. I have seen some footage of his fights. Sometimes, though, he’s a lot like you."

That didn’t sound ominous at all.

[beastsars]

praeceptum | louis (beastars) x carnivore!reader

continuous sucker for louis and his carnivore lover. amen. pure mature content again because fuck it guys. just fuck it. amen again.

you’d warned him. specifically sent him a very detailed text about your approved absence for health reasons. and louis had heeded to your explanation. truly. 

except your period of self-care, to put it lightly, was supposed to last three days. and now it was the evening of the fifth. 

to be truthful, his concern had spiked during the fourth day, but he had the patience to wait out an additional twenty-four hours. you likely needed some time to come down from your highs and recover from nature's temporary control over your emotions and instincts. nothing ever went according to plan after all.

but now his worried apprehension was threatening to edge hysteria if he didn’t hear from you soon. 

what if you’d hurt yours? maybe the unbridled passion had become too much for you to handle. 

or worse- what if an alpha had passed by your scent and taken advantage in your vulnerability?

each thought darkened with possibility as louis sped walked down the hallway of the upscale apartment complex. it was his own hideaway in the city that the two of you often frequented during the weekend to escape prying eyes. he felt that it was a fitting honeypot for you to nest in. a comforting place surrounded with nothing but his warmth and scent and the memories the two of you had ingrained in the walls. 

as he neared the door, the deer made a quick account of its integrity, noting the absence of scratches or signs of forced entry. it both settled and nagged him, as it was possible for you to have been lured out. yet as he scented the stale air, he came to terms with the fact that you were also truant without a trail of your departure. 

“this is all just a misunderstanding, louis. she’s probably just too worn out and resting,” he tried to reassure himself to avoid looking like a fool as the lock clicked signaling his entry. 

upon entering the flat, he took note of the glowing emitter still humming softly on the small entry table to the left. he’d purchased it with faith on the internet and it seemed to be doing its job. its primary function was a suppressors, releasing contrasting scents to defer any unwanted guests. louis had preemptively chosen a chamomile scent in hopes of enticing you to sleep through your episode than suffer. 

“sweetheart? it’s me, just coming to check on you.”

as he traveled further into the abode, he came to the starking conclusion that all his distress was for naught. the moment he stepped outside of the emitters area of control, it was like stepping into a thick cloud of smog. except instead of heavy smoke, it was just a vicious blanket of you. 

your scent still heavily dosed in fertile hormones and the influence of your heat. 

hesitating with his next step forward, louis nearly choked at the tangible taste of your fragrance, spicy like cinnamon with a hint of nutmeg. hesitantly, he called out your name again but didn’t receive a response. not a cheerful cry or a growl of warning. if not for your aroma, he wouldn’t have even suspected you were here. 

determined to see through his intent, the deer marched forward with tense trepidation as he neared the bedroom. as not to startle whatever state you were in, he cautiously clicked opened the door, mouth ready to address whatever he saw but stopped short at the sight before him.

the room was in shambles. dressers knocked to the floor, some unable to flee without suffering the brutal strength of your claws. your claws that also seemed to lay claim on the sheets and pillows, strips of linen and faux feathers littering the floor. and then there was you.

gaze starved with lust darted toward the doorway where louis’s tall figure stood. inherently. you’d picked up on the intruder with your daze, but the familiarity had settled the rage before you could act on it. it hadn’t taken long for the concern to vanish, thoughts slathered under the thickness of your slick as your fingers worked furiously at your wet passage. you’d long given up on rearranging your nest to avoid the wet spots, just adding more to the mess under you as you withered in your own release. 

you had one ear keen to the approaching steps, distantly aware of the voice calling to you. but the distraction of fucking yourself on your own digits won the larger part of your mind as a frustrated groan hissed behind your clenched teeth. it was never enough, over a hundred hours of it never being enough. 

not deep enough, not fast enough. not thick enough. 

without proper satisfaction, your heat refused to ebb away, drawing it out like a sick game at your expense. 

and in your final hour, it seemed as though your prayers had been answered. the divine showing you mercy in the form of a bewildered herbivore. 

it calmed a sliver of your consciousness to finally have a fresh taste of his scent. you’d long overpowered it after the first day. and you’d been too weak to travel past the bed room to find other sources of the earthy musk. 

louis, the poor soul, hadn’t moved from his spot. still overwhelmed by the picture you must make. did deers even go into heat? fuck, the answer hardly mattered now. you were the one suffering and you desperately needed him to do something about it. 

you eyes captured his, pleading with a sharp whimper for him to act on this unbearable pain. the creature before you likely would inseminate you properly as nature requested, but it was male with a sizable cock. wet pulses of slick soiled the fingers inside you just at the thought of the power thrusts taking you from behind. 

“lou, please. please please please.”

please fuck me. please mark me. please claim me. 

any and all of the above would do as long as he finally acted instead of just staring. prepared to take point, you crawled, hobbled on your knees, movements jerky with the intrusion of your hand still between your legs. 

ultimately, you removed the soaked appendage, absolutely dripping with your ichor as you reached out to the male. “help me.”

your final plea must have appealed to some baser than his cognition as the deer finally approached the bed, nose flared wide. incompatible or not, the obvious scent of a desirable female before him was enough to dilate his pupils and shoot blood towards his lower half. 

the back of his hand carefully edged the side of your face as if testing. unsure of how to pass it, you settled for nuzzling the first touch that had not been your own in days. your wantonness submerged with a surge as you slithered your tongue along his digits and brought them into your hot aperture. you hoped you looked like every bit of the slut you felt like. 

and by the sudden gesture of his opposite hand connecting with your neck and shoving your face first onto the bed, you assumed you hit the mark. he didn’t kiss you as he lowered his head, too mindful of your feral state and instead licked a wet stripe against the fur of your nape. the way you suckled gently at his fingers, mindful of your teeth, spoke more about your mindset but he wasn’t willing to push it further than that. 

“i’ll take care of you, don't you worry. you should have called me earlier,” he chided.

you tried to apologize, over the weight of his fingers in your mouth and the ones now absent from your neck as they slid up your slick near your cunt and down to the knuckle. this was what you needed. fingers angled just right to reach depths denied to you for days.

mouth still perched at your neck, louis whispered hot words of reassurance as he grinds against his pumping fingers. uncaring of the speech, but very cognitive of the breach, you roll your hips eagerly into the undulation. it did wonders to your libedo to feel the swollen member in his pants, greedily wanting him to give up this futile attempt to prepare you. you’d been ready for his cock for hours and would not be made to wait any longer. 

blindly you reached back, hands dragging trails of your slick against the fabric as you desperately tried to grasp at the labels. hissing at your attempts, louis unceremoniously snatched his hand from your mouth and tackled the fastening with an equally fervent but with more coordination.

his hand parted your folds sloppy to coat his hands before slicking up his cock. acutely aware of your body submissively laid out in presentation, louis wanted to ingrain this memory in his head. that he, a herbivore, would bring you pleasure in such an exposed moment. 

grasping at the met of your backside, he guided his cockhead toward you entrance, sharing your pleased groan as he pushed in. what he was feeling now was nothing like previous bouts of passion he’d shared with you. each one was as adventurous and ambitious as the last. 

but this. this was pure rawness. He had barely bottomed out and your eyes were already rolling back in pleasure, salvia leaking from your open mouth with nothing there to stimulate it. idly, he returned his fingers there, gasping in surprise when your lips immediately sealed around them. 

whether or not his body was truly affected by your spike in arousal, the placebo effect of seeing his lover so kindled drove him to adopt a vigorous tempo. your body trembled under the onslaught, easily overwhelmed from the lack of a proper fucking that you needed it the most. it feed deliciously into his ego as he utterly dominated you with every smack of his hips against the curve of yours.

god, you were wailing. cries so sweet with desperation that it nearly swelled his heart to impact. he’d been waiting for your hands to make their descent on his antlers. the typical slow teasing and glide of your fingers before grasping, traded for a rough capture as he anchored yourself.

a past state of him would have cooed and showed more attentiveness, but the present version knew what you needed and increased the tempo. your brain was completely fogged over with pleasure, unconscious to anything and everything but the cock pistoning inside of you. 

he wondered if you even knew who was giving you this greatest pleasure. the thought of being replaced, even in your mind, surged him to speak. 

“filthy carnivore cockslut- excuse me, herbivore slut,” he barked harshly against her ear, body bowed to follow the curve of your back. his hand dug into the flesh of your buttock, squeezing and kneading .

“your own kind just couldn’t do it for you, so you decided to cross over and play a dangerous game. now look at you, practically hanging off my cock like a lifeline.” blood drummed forcefully through his veins and his muscled clenched through the efforts but his desire to conquer overruled all else. 

his fingers curled into the fur between your ears, tugging none too gently to bring your head up. “tell me. tell them all who’s cock you prefer?”

a high pitched whine preceded your answer but what he wanted eventually left your tongue. 

“fuuuck- you lou. always you. i need you cock. it's everything i want.”

your body bobbled uncontrolled against his mounted thrust as he released your head to hold your hips steady with both hands. he could feel the seeded swelling at the base of his cock and he needed you to break before he did. so he takes you harder, harder than he’s ever did before. promising aches that will linger on your body for days to come. 

it all came together beautifully the moment your orgasm broke up. he watched enthralled as your body seized unlike anything he witnessed before as your cunt fluttered around your release. not far behind, luis transitions to shallower drives as he grinds into your core, sneaking in a sloppy few more thrust before losing himself in his release. 

the walls of your cunt continued to clenched around him as in expectation for something additional he couldn't provide. hazily, he tried to place the absent mechanism but the sight of your relaxed body won over as he pulled out and collapsed on the bed next to you. 

a soft pained whimper escaped you, high and keen enough for him to weakly scramble for the source. but you seemed to delegate your own solution, body squirming backwards into his chest, hand gasping at his cock from between your legs to nestle it back home within your cunt. with a final reassuring squeeze around him, you slipped into a hazy sleep, body overcome with exhaustion. 

chuckling tiredly, louis tried not to disrupt the first bout of rest you probably had in days as he tried to use his foot to drag his pants into reach. when they were close enough, he fished out his phone from one of his pockets.

it was hardly dinner time. still a fresh start to the weekend. 

perphas he would call in an impromptu break for the drama club. something told him you would be keeping him occupied for the foreseeable future. 

[xxisxxisxxis]

Gateway Drug | Part Eighty-Seven

Words: 4.5k

Warning(s): explicit language, sexual situations, drug abuse, violence

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NIKKI

"Nikki, what the hell are you doing?" Vivian asks me as we walk down the stairs of the law firm. 

"I've broken every fuckin' vow except 'till death do us part' and I'll be fucked to hell if we stuck it out and stayed with each other after the worst bullshit just to fucking divorce." I state and she stays quiet for a moment before I'm stumbling back when she halts and snatches away from me, glaring up at me. 

"What if I want a divorce?" She asks. 

"I'd tell you you're full of shit." I snap and she raises a brow and crosses her arms. 

"Then what the hell was the point of hounding me for a divorce just to do this?!" She barks at me. 

"To prove a point I guess, I don't fucking know." I admit. 

"To prove a point?! What point were you trying to prove?! That even when we're not together you still have the control in the relationship?!" She yells.

"I don't have any fucking control in this relationship, are you fucking me?! I haven't had any control since day fucking one, Vivian!" 

"Are you fucking serious?!" She screams at me, frustration all over her face. "You have always had control, Nikki, trust me, I know, I'm the one that had to lay down and take your bullshit and give up what I wanted to do just so you'd feel in control!"

"I told you to go to fucking New York to go to school, did I not? What the hell did you do? You stayed! You can't get pissed at me for not giving you what you supposedly think I promised you!" 

"No, Nikki, I'm not pissed at you for not giving me what you promised--I'm pissed because you've given me years of fucked up shit that was never supposed to even be a part of the plan!" She has tears in her eyes, her voice shaking…

She's right. I'm not going to tell her she's wrong…

I sigh and rub the back of my neck, exhaling, as she wipes her eyes. 

"...Look, me and the guys are going to a different rehab, and I'll actually stick with it, and I want to work this out." I tell her, honestly. "I just don't know how to come back from the shit we've done to each other, Viv, but if we can figure out how, then I wanna do it." 

She doesn't say anything, looking at me with her pretty green eyes, nodding slightly. 

I didn't realize that once we agreed to work on our marriage, that all hell would break loose in the midst of repairing the damage. 

Me and the guys, except Mick, were sent to another rehab because the first one was too obnoxious, and by the second one, we were actually getting somewhere with each other as a band and individually, including the people closest to us in our lives. For me, that was Vivian.

My leg can't stop shaking as I repeatedly tap my foot, waiting for my counselor to get in and meet Vivian for the first time.

I exhale and glance at her, her red hair curled, reaching just over her boobs, long legs taken up by black stockings that have lace trim mid-thigh, just peeking out from under her black dress, black heels tapping quietly on the floor, her dark red nails standing out against the cover of the shitty crossword she's flipping through. Her perfume has the whole little area she's in smelling good and her red lips rub together for a moment as she doesn't even notice me staring at her. 

It's a Saturday and I'm assuming she's going out with Sharise or something when she leaves here, or she dressed like this to torture me, knowing I haven't had sex in nearly two months, starting in Japan back in December, and my right hand is my best friend currently. 

My fucking balls hurt as she shifts her legs, uncrossing them to cross them the opposite, now. 

If it were up to me they'd be wide open and either around my hips or my head. 

I keep my hand pressed to my lips, resting my elbow on the arm of the chair, focused on her.

I slide down in my chair a little to try to see what kind of panties she's wearing--if she's wearing any at all. 

It wouldn't surprise me if she's not wearing any at all. Just to fuck with my head like she loves to do. 

"Take a picture and it'll last longer." She tells me flatly, not taking her eyes off the book. 

"I would if I had a camera." I don't even deny staring at her and she flicks her gaze to me. "Or a video camera. That'd be better." I add. 

"Ha. Ha." She sarcastically lets out and I smirk, watching her get up to grab her purse from the empty chair adjacent to me, leaning down to dig through it. 

It takes everything in my power not to get behind her, bend her over it, slide her panties to the side and start poun--

"We're here to start the process of fixing things between us and you're here only focused on sex." She states and I snap out of it. 

"No, I'm not." I argue, furrowing my brows. 

"Nikki, I know when you're picturing having sex with me." 

"I'm always picturing having sex with you." I state. "And you know exactly what you're doing." 

The faintest, smallest little grin comes to her lips as she goes to sit down again. 

"I don't know what you're talking about." She mumbles and I look at her. 

"You're cruel." I mumble and she rolls her eyes. 

"Oh, whatever." She replies. 

"You look hot." 

"Shut up." 

"We can be done in ten seconds." I say next and she goes red. 

"Stop, Nikki!" She scolds me.

"C'mon, Viv, we've never fucked on a desk before." I point out. 

"We've broken into Doc's office just to mess around on his desk, Nikki." She reminds me. 

"Well, we've never fucked on a therapist's desk, so c'mon, it'll be quick."

"I--" she starts laughing, not believing me, "--am not having sex in a rehab facility. I'm not that horny." 

"So you admit you are horny to some degree, though." I say and she rolls her eyes. 

"Shut up."

"Just flash me or something." 

"Nikki."

"Please?"

"You're so weird." She ignores my request while I'm pinching the bridge of my nose. 

"I'm in pain, Vivian." I say next, groaning, exaggerating. 

"Sounds like a personal problem." 

"Fuck." I lean my head back, rubbing my face. 

The door opens and my counselor comes in, smiling at us. 

"Sorry, I'm late." She says, stepping to Vivian, extending her hand. "I have heard lots about you, I'm Amber." 

"Vivian. It's nice to meet you." Vivian replies, smiling her shiny smile that should win her an Oscar because she wears it so well even when she's fucking miserable--I obviously know from experience. 

Amber sits behind her desk as Vivian sits back down in the chair, and she looks up from her paperwork at us, raising her brows. 

"If we're going to start this grueling process, I highly suggest you two get comfortable being within three feet of each other, again." She adds.

Me and Vivian exchange looks, before she sighs and stands up, walking to the little couch I'm sitting on, plopping down beside me. 

I smirk to myself, looking at her from the side of my eye. 

"Okay, let's just get to it, Vivian, I've gotten a brief history of your husband, and I feel as though I can sort of, kind of, pin point a thing or two that has lead to the point that you two are at currently, but I'd really like to learn a little bit about you because all that's portrayed publicly to all of us is he's this nitty gritty, abrasive rock God, and you're the angel that tamed him to settle down." She explains and Vivian scoffs, raising her brows. "I know it sounds ridiculous but that's what's given in magazines and pictures taken of you two." 

"Yeah." Vivian nods. 

"And I don't think that's true, I don't think everything is happy and sunshine and, 'oh, we're opposites but that's what we love about each other,' and blah, blah, or else neither of you would be here admitting your marriage is in shambles...so, becoming familiar with Nikki--sober--the way that I have the past week gives me a sense of who he really is without the drugs and the cameras and the fans and the girls, because in here he's only got himself. He doesn't have to upkeep the persona he puts on to make it seem like everything's perfect. And, although you aren't a patient here, I really want you to allow yourself to just be and differentiate between who you are to the public, and who you are privately, because--from what I've heard--they're two completely different people." She says next and Vivian nods. "So, who is Vivian Kinston and how did she get together with Nikki Sixx?" She offers a warm smile and Vivian exhales, already looking overwhelmed…"In three descriptions, who were you when you met Nikki?" 

"A very religious, ballet dancing, perfectionist." Vivian says and Amber nods. 

"Let's dissect that and break it down for a moment." She says next. "Okay, religious--was that on your own or passed through your family or…?"

"Both of my parents, but mainly my mom." She replies and Amber nods. 

"Okay, and what is mom like?" 

"Very strict Christian, we couldn't have anything secular in the house...I'm not sure what she's like now but when I last saw her she had the pastor I grew up with trying to exorcise a demon from me because she found out I was engaged to Nikki." She tells her and Amber's brows shoot up. 

"When was that?" 

"'82, '83, around that time." Vivian explains. 

"So you haven't seen mom in close to six years." 

"Yeah." 

"Okay...you were a ballet dancer when you met," she starts the next point. 

"Yes."

"For how long?"

"Since I can remember." Vivian informs her. 

"So, a strict Christian upbringing, and a very, very, intricate form of dance that requires a lot of discipline, since you were probably a toddler." 

"Yeah." 

"And is that where the perfectionism comes in, through your background with dance?"

"No." 

"No, okay."

"My mom and my upbringing." Vivian explains. "Anytime I did something my mom didn't like or approve of or thought other people would lose their minds over if they knew I was doing it, she'd get onto me and would constantly drill into my head, 'this is not what we do, Vivian'." 

"Wow." Amber nods, her brows slightly furrowed. "So, it doesn't come from a place of that physical drive to be perfect at most things you do, it comes from a mental and emotional drive of not wanting people to know what skeletons are in the closet that would make them think less of you." 

Vivian nods, taking a deep breath. 

"Okay, and do you think that sense of perfectionism from your mother has helped you or harmed you in the long run?" 

"Harmed." She's saying it nearly before Amber can get her words out of her mouth. 

"And why is that?" 

"Because I grew up with her holding me to a nearly unreachable standard, and hounding unrealistic expectations onto me." 

"And in turn…"

"...It's made me do the same to him." Vivian says and I stare at the floor. 

"What unrealistic expectations, or unreachable standard have you held him to?" 

"Not doing the things that he's done." She says next. 

"What things?" 

"Infidelity and drug and alcohol addiction." 

"Why is expecting your husband not to cheat on you or put drugs and alcohol before you an unrealistic expectation that is unattainable for him?" Amber asks next and I rub my lips together. 

"Because of who he is and what he does." Vivian says next and Amber raises her brows. 

"So you think because he's Nikki Sixx--big time rockstar--that it's not realistic to expect him to do what he is supposed to do as your husband which is stay faithful and not put substances before you?" 

"Yes." 

"Oh, I see." Amber looks at me and I sigh. "Was your relationship ever open or polygamous, during or prior to marriage?" 

"No." She shakes her head. 

"Was he addicted to anything when you got married?"

"He did drugs and drank but at that point in time he didn't have a heavy reliance on it, no."

"An unrealistic expectation would be you telling him he can sleep with other women but then you getting angry every time he did. That's setting an unrealistic expectation of, 'I'm giving you permission to indulge in sex with other women but I expect you not to,' or him being addicted to heroin when you got married and you expecting him to drop any addiction he has solely based on the fact that you two got married. That's an unrealistic expectation. Him being a famous rock musician has nothing to do with his ability, or lack thereof, to be monogamous and sober." She explains to Vivian. "So you wanting your husband to not have an affair and not get strung out was not an unrealistic expectation that you had in a moment of naivety." She assures her.

"Okay." Vivian sounds like she's been waiting to hear that for a while…

"And I believe the issues you two are facing the most from both Nikki, and yourself, have grown from the root of how you two think. I know we hear the saying, 'opposites attract,' but we don't think about how sometimes when people are too opposite it acts like hot and cold air when it mixes and if it's in a big enough whirl, or big enough of a spectrum, it creates a tornado or a hurricane." She says next. "Religion equals a sense of morality, your history with ballet equipped you with a fair amount of discipline, and that perfectionism that you spoke on is your way of caring so much about what others think of you, you sacrifice yourself and just smile to keep things looking amazing on the outside."

Vivian nods. 

"I asked him to describe you in three words, and he said, 'beautiful, depressed, belligerent'." She tells her and I slowly see tears coming to Vivian's eyes. "Nikki admitted to me that when he met you, he had no sense of morality, he was doing whatever he wanted, when he wanted, he had no discipline in terms of controlling himself around drugs and women, and he couldn't give less of a care about what people thought of him." She explains. "And that might even been fun and exciting when you were just starting out but once you're married and he's gotten all these eyes on him suddenly, there are expectations put on the both of you to be this couple who has everything, and you're both attractive, and he's the bad boy and you're the good girl and you just fell in love is the only explanation you have for making the relationship work to the point of wanting to get married and you have a great house and matching cars and all this and all that and you're in the press smiling and laughing and holding hands and hugging up on each other and oh, it's a wonderful life, but as soon as you get alone…" she trails off, looking at the both of us knowingly. "He's high, you're suffering, and both of you are living a hell. But nobody can know that because you're Nikki and Vivian Sixx. You two are perfect because he doesn't cheat on you like other rockstars do to their wives and girlfriends. He doesn't put drugs and alcohol before you like so many others do to their girlfriends and their wives. He doesn't turn into this monster you don't recognize and lash out like a dog at you after a night of sitting in his closet and shooting up, because he 'loves' you, and you don't have to keep quiet for years while it just keeps adding up and adding up until finally you beat on your husband and those around you over minuet instances because the big things you were probably justified to get that angry over were swept under the rug and were never dealt with for years--because that's not what you do." She ties it right back to Vivian's mother. 

A tear rolls down Vivian's cheek, neither of us expecting it to be this heavy just during her introduction to Viv. 

"If we don't stop that mentality, it's going to poison every relationship around you that it hasn't already and when you have children it's going to be a curse on them just like it's a curse on you." She tells her, as Viv sniffles, trying to keep up with wiping her tears away. "I've already been on him about his upbringing burdening him, so please don't think this is a personal attack on you."

Viv nods, mouthing, "okay."

"You two want to make this relationship better and be better for one another, we are going to have to tear down six years worth of walls and blockades and gut this entire thing completely and start again. It's not going to be easy, you're probably going to learn things about each other you've been hiding and maybe even amicably decide to divorce before it's all over with, but you are both going to heal and start the process of forgiveness. With yourselves, with your parents, with your friends, and with each other."

She gives the both of us some homework...

"I want you two to prepare to tell each other everything you've not told one another for next time we meet." Amber tells us and the color drains from Viv's face, I know for a fucking fact that I don't look much different from her.

"What?" Vivian asks her.

"If we're healing this relationship we need everything in the dark in the light so we aren't building on an old foundation of secrets." She states. Vivian just nods hesitantly before we're dismissed.

"Vivian." I stop her out in the hall before she can leave, grabbing gently at her wrist.

"Yeah?" She asks me. 

"I love you." I tell her and she looks at me, smiling a little. 

"I'll see you Wednesday." She replies, squeezing my hand before she walks away. 

What the hell? I tell her and I love her and she just fucking says, "I'll see you Wednesday'?" 

I watch as she goes down the hall, heels clicking, hair down her back…

Goddamn. 

This is definitely my payback for taking my time with her for granted, because now that I'm in my right mind and not ruining our marriage, she barely even looks at me. 

At least she was actually wanting to work things out, because after the Vanity bullshit, I thought we'd never make it out after the first time I saw her since it had happened.

July 1987

I brace myself against the bathroom wall as my whole body goes numb for a moment, my eyes rolling momentarily. 

"Sixx, c'mon, we gotta get goin', Viv's here!" Fred yells from behind the door, his fist beating at it. 

Fuck him. Fuck this tour. Fuck this band. Fuck everything right now. 

Viv's just got here from the airport, she flew back in earlier this morning and I've been hiding, completely avoiding her, but I can't anymore. 

The media's in a frenzy since Vanity aired all of our dirty laundry, only making Viv and I both on edge even more. 

We've been denying the shit out of Vanity's engagement claims, but I don't think people are buying it as much as we'd like to think they are. 

I take in a breath and stumble to the mirror, looking at myself. 

Not too bad for a low down, dirty, bastard. 

Opening the bathroom door to see where Fred's waiting for me, I glance past his shoulder to see Vivian.

She looks like she feels like hell, but has managed to pull herself together. 

Makes two of us--well, kind of, at least. 

"C'mon, the guys are already at the venue." 

Fred tells me. 

"Great." I smirk, patting his shoulder, stepping to Vivian. 

I don't think either of us are taking into consideration the amount of utter bullshitting we're about to have to do. 

I also don't expect the amount of paparazzi waiting for us right outside the hotel's doors.

As soon as the door opens, screaming, flashes, invasive questions come hurtling our way. It feels closterphobic enough to make Vivian grab my hand, tight, curling closer into me as if trying to hide away from prying cameras and questions about my alleged affair.

I feel her being tugged at once, and just as she says, "Nikki," I'm snatching my hand from hers to beat repeatedly, as hard as I can, at the forearm of the perpetrator, a media creep trying to get her attention. 

"Don't fucking touch her!" I bark out over the noise and he stumbles back, holding at his arm as I put my arm around her waist, tightly, getting to the car. 

When we get inside, Vivian's obviously distraught over what just happened, shoving herself away from me. 

I turn my anger to Fred. 

"What the fuck is the point of  having fucking security if you're not going to keep people from touching her?" I sneer. 

"Because I'm a bodyguard, but you're a fucking Rottweiler." He states back without hesitation and I just roll my jaw, glancing at Vivian and she doesn't even look at me. 

I sigh and dig in my pocket for the little baggie I got earlier, grabbing my hotel room key to take a bump to help me wake up for this show, and when we get to the venue, I'm getting out of the car and waiting for Fred to get out. 

He does, and I stop Vivian, nudging her back inside before saying, "we'll be there in a second."

Fred just looks at me and exhales, rolling his eyes before stepping inside. 

Vivian sighs out as I look at her, avoiding looking at me…

"Vivian, are we gonna talk about it or…?"

"I don't want to talk about it."

"I think we should."

"You proposed to her, Nikki."

"Allegedly." I add.

"You. Proposed. To. Her." She says it sharply and I lean back. "You had an affair with her. I trusted you. I trusted the both of you. And you lied to me." She hisses. "So, no, there is nothing to talk about...just let me out of the damn car." She slides over and opens the door but I reach over her and slam it shut.

She takes heavy breaths from where she's sitting, my body hovering over hers, the tips of our noses brushing together…

I lean down, my lips pressing to her's for just a second before she lets go of the fact I completely screwed her over. 

I'm about to pull away when she pushes her tongue past my lips, her nails running over my back through my shirt as her legs wrap around my hips, one of her hands in my knotted hair.

As always, I end up eating her like a starved pervert, relishing in the sounds of her moans and gasps. 

The truth is, she may hate me, but I'm good at getting her off and she knows it.

Once she comes and we start getting ourselves together to go inside, I look over at her. 

"So, are we good?" I ask her, oh, so fucking stupidly, and she blinks at me. 

"What?" 

"Are we good?" 

She catches on to what I mean, and rubs her lips together. 

"Nikki, you could fuck me into oblivion, which you can't because I'm never letting you fucking touch me again, and we still wouldn't be good. Not even close to 'good'. You can't have an affair with my friend and then expect everything to be good just because we fooled around while you were stoned out of your mind." She snaps and I roll my jaw as she gets out and slams the door, stomping to the back entrance of the venue. 

For the first time I feel the sting of rejection. 

Is this how groupies feel? 

I never thought once about getting head, leaving them in the limo and going on about my business. 

Anger boils in me, Sikki chomping at the bit. 

That selfish bitch! 

I get out and go after her. 

I don't know what the fuck I'm gonna say to her, but I'm mad. 

"How dare you use me to get your rocks off and then toss me aside?", no, because I've done that to her a couple times...but that's because she's into it. 

I swear she comes harder when I randomly come up behind her and just start going at it because she knows I'm just using her to get off and then leave her wherever I stopped her, and go out right after and wouldn't think twice about it. 

But me? I'm so used to her looking at me like I'm God while I have my full attention on making her feel good, and she has the audacity to get off on my face and then kick me to the curb and tell me I'm never touching her again?! 

I decided it wasn't worth the fist fight it would inevitably turn into by the time I got inside, but and looking back, she had every reason to get me horny and then swear off ever letting me get near her again. It was petty, but smart. And despite having sex one last time not long after that instance, the point was still made clear. For the first time in our relationship, the acceptance of sexual advances didn't take the place of forgiveness.

[chirp-featherfowl]

summertime is not a good friend.

 -       Tommy is 12 when he's assigned as a right hand man to a war general.      Far too young, the world thinks. Far too immature, the world says.        It is a war for peace, but not one a child should not carry the burden of. It is a war for hope, for prosperity, for freedom, but not one a child should be the right hand man of.       The child that is the subject of discussion does not understand, nor does he disagree with his placement. It is not for a long, long, time that he realizes.  -       In a few months time, the ages of the rest have been revealed.       A friend that is 13. An enemy that is 19. An outsider that is 19. A son that is 15. A girl that is 18.       The words pass through the minds of the watchers, only fueling them to have the world they carefully spectate fall in shambles. Some say it's sadistic, that it's cruel, but no one listens. Not even they can stop themselves from seeing what comes next. -  [Discussion Board Opened!] all hail sir billiam 23 min. ago lmao these losers saying its "problematic". get off of ur skyblock island sweetie, they're fictional <3 -- 18 replies  Skye [on hiatus!] 23 min. ago  Um they're not fictional? These are reall people   - Hati 20 min. ago       Lmao yes they are. They might as well be seeing as they shouldve known            what they were signing up for  -- 4 replies  ami | MOD | 18 min. ago  hello! please get off this discussion board and delete this post. we do not   condone discourse here, try and find another site! thank you.   - all hail sir billiam 18 min. ago       um no thanks. the mods here r shit anyways, go get the owner if u wanna            talk to me -- 8 replies -       Tommy is 13 when he learns that his suffering is being watched and condoned by millions of other people. He is angry, and rightfully so.       It just so happens that his anger has fallen on deaf ears, though, as his brother, his dear brother, is trapped in delusions of his own creation.       It is too late for his brother, and it is too late for himself. - puddle ;; shay @soggy_mem0ry Stop stanning problematic world groups and go back to playing on fucking mineplex or something. This site disgusts me 456 Retweets 34 Quote Tweets 6,282 Likes

el \ DON'T PRIV QRT @el_i god the discourse on here is horrible. i'm not going to be on this site for a while. i don't like what it's becoming. 293 Retweets 2 Quote Tweets 1,497 Likes -       It has been over six months since Tommy has been without trust. He cares for his brother, he does his best for him, and he knows he loves him back, despite the situation they're in. Tommy has done his best to bring his brother back to the way he was once before, and even though they both know it won't last long, they both put on a facade for each other. -       A young boy, the age of 16, watches as another boy, only three years younger than him, loses almost all his hope. This young boy does not matter to the state of this world, and he never will, but it is the impact that makes it so important.       The boy sits near a tree on his island, giving up hope himself. -        A girl slaughters her way to victory in small matches in her area, knowing much due to her ability to find sufficient role models.       Sufficient role models that happen to be revenge-filled adults that seem to not know they're torturing children, but it doesn't matter to her. It doesn't matter to anyone, in fact. No one cares when the world hinges on the fate of 14 year-olds who shouldn't know how to handle a crossbow, but so do nonetheless. -  frog-enthusiast - Follow man. i never thought i'd be making this post, seeing as i'm one of the more popular members of the dsmpblr community, but i'm done. i won't deactivate this blog so other people can still see it, but i probably won't be posting ever again. fuck everyone who condones this shit. -       Tommy is 14 when he begins to finally lose his hope.       He hasn't yet, despite what everyone else thinks. He is still holding onto it, not for long, but he hasn't let go.       But the world seems keen on having him release his grip, and he does, eventually.       That day is not today, though, and Tommy Simons still lives. He lives in a, sadly, different and changed mindset, but is still the same Tommy Simons.       He cannot say the same for his brother. - THEORIES ABOUT THE DSMP Kadoodles 696K views - 3 days ago MCC 9 Interview - Tapl's thoughts on DSMP, HBomb94 talking about L'cast, and more! MCC Highlights 3.2M views - 5 months ago Tommy confronts Wilbur about Manberg Obli Intel 52K views - 1 day ago - TAPL: Well, I'm not surprised you've asked me this. More that I was the first one to be asked, I guess? TAPL: If I'm being honest, I don't really want to talk about it. What does on in that world is none of my business. Though, that's not the answer you want, is it, huh? TAPL: I don't like it. It gives off such a bad energy, if that's the way you want to put it. I just... don't think it should exist, really? It shouldn't be shown off. -       Tommy is 15 when he finally, finally, crumbles. Where he, the final judge, the youngest, is corrupted, is taken down to be who he finally is.       Prey. -       Various teenagers from all across the world watch as friend gets separated from friend, and foe takes over foe. It's no surprise to the people who chose this demise, but it still is a burden to carry. To be known as one of the people that sentenced a child to an early grave is something not a lot of people personally like.       They keep on watching, though. Nothing will stop them. (But it is not as if people try.)       The world might crumble there, and they will watch. The world might disappear there, and they will watch. - Replies jumpy-the-alien - frog-enthusiast I'm sad to see you go, but I totally get where you're coming from! I really hope you come back, I love your art, but don't feel pressured. vlaired-spear fuck off with the "fuck everyone" thing. you watched this shit too. you can't put down other people while still doing the same thing. flameo-hotman @vlaired-spear holy shit this is why i hate this website. suck a dick flowgastrell @vlaired-spear I know right! Its not like the ccs will see this anyway flameo-hotman @flowgastrell yeah, maybe not in a discord server, but there's still a high chance when you post it on the fucking internet - TAPL: I know I'm probably going to lose a lot of people saying this, but you asked for my opinion, and here it is. I don't want to lie about it. Especially not when fucking children are at risk. -       Tommy remains 15 for a very long time. It is not of his own volition. He is bored, and time passes slowly.       Not until his friend arrives, that is. His friend with the mask, his friend with the lies. His friend that's not his friend.       But Tommy doesn't know that. - [Discussion Board Opened!] all hail sir billiam 45 min. ago it will be a long day in hell when i give up dsmp content lmaoooo got banned from that other board the other day mods were toxic as shit might report it idk  -- 4 replies  Gertrude Supremacy 44 min. ago  :O Oh no what happened  - all hail sir billiam 44 min. ago    just the antis being toxic again lol  -- 2 replies -       Tommy remains 15 when he his abused by the one he thinks is a friend. He remains 15 during the explosions, the traps, the hitting, the fighting, the party, the-       The things a 15-year-old should not have to deal with.       He stops saying sorry for being too weak-willed. He starts saying sorry for being too disobedient. He does both, and gets punished "suitably" for both.       It is a game, and he does not know the rules. to be continued!! may make a follow up post explaining the au

[b0ttl3d-up-st4rs]

Well I'm gonna do what I do best and self reflect to an insane amount. This is probably gonna be a long post so buckle up.

To be honest my behavior for nearly the past year now is concerning to say the least. There's this little voice in my head that just desperately wants to get more and more hurt, more and more traumatized. Why is that? At first glance the negative approach could be to say its some sort of masochistic behavior and any negative repercussions as a result of this behavior is deserved, but I don't really think thats the case.

Self sabotage is a characteristic that can be exhibited in many mentally ill people and I am no exception. I think this behavior, of seeking to be hurt by grown men on the internet is partially self sabotage.

And I remember when I first started this shit show, I just wanted attention. Sounds mean to say, but craving attention is something the human soul desperately wants. And I was starting to feel some sense of self beauty but I didn't feel as though anyone around me was appreciating it so I tried to get attention from grown men because being showered in compliments and attention felt so good when my whole life I've never gotten any of that.

I think there's more too it, though. Looking back my whole life it's almost as if I've wanted to get hurt. In books I liked to sit around with the pain the characters felt. And its almost like I wanted to get traumatized. I've heard that people with trauma that they don't acknowledge is trauma or think its bad enough to be traumatizing seek put worse forms of trauma, in order to feel that pain is valid. And I think that's part of my issue too.

I do have unaddressed and repressed childhood trauma. I was given unrestricted internet at a young age and was exposed to the horrors of the internet. Nothing like straight up porn, but a lot of suggestive content. And in general being exposed to that caused me a lot of catholic guilt as I was raised catholic. I remember feeling like knowing these things were my fault. Many days I felt so guilty that I would pray to god to let me not wake up in the morning.

As a child I also questioned my religion a lot, which i think was traumatic in itself. Religion is a big thing. And as a kid I had a big issue knowing reality from fiction. Heck I still do. I remember as a kid my friend telling me that we were all demigods and one day we were going to run away to camp half blood. That the percy jackson books were real. It sounds stupid now, but I processed that as real and it was so stressful for me.

And I remember being 12 coming out as trans and as a part of the lgbtq community to my parents. They didnt react well. They said I was confused. My mom said I was both too young and too old to know. I fought a lot with my mom. And in general have a lot of unhappy memories from then. I was outed multiple times in my life.

My relationship with my parents still isnt good. My mom has a tendency to be toxic. I hate that I have to stay in the closet around my family its so painful. Like a month ago I mentioned the lgbtq community for the first time in years, asking my mom her opinions on it and if it changed since 2017, and it turned into her yelling at me and making herself a victim. It really hurt. I forgot how much it hurt.

I don't really have much of a relationship with my dad. We barely talk. Hes very emotionally distant. When I'm at my dad's house I sort of fend for myself. Its the exact opposite at my moms house. She's overbearing and never leaves you alone. It's like going between to extremes.

And honestly I can't wait to move out. My mom and I have arguments a lot. But hey at least I have some relationship with her, I don't really have a relationship with my dad.

I remember one time this year, I was during the end of a school semester. I needed to catch up on work because after talking to my abuser for like 5 months and then unlocking him I was left in shambles and fell into a really bad depression to where my motivation for school just disapeared. Im still dealing with that tbh. Anyways I had to go to a online meeting to choose my classes and I didn't get to choose the classes I thought I would be able to, and that made me really upset. But after the meeting I had to go to do am act of kindness (I chose picking up litter at a graveyard cause i like graveyards) for my school project but I was still distraught. If I was given some time to myself I probably wouldve been able to go without issue, but my mom wanted to go immediately. We argued. And when I got there I refused to leave the car because I felt so much like shit. We argued more. It was the worst argument I ever had. She even swore at me. Which she's never done before. And she ended up playing victim again. She does that a lot I guess. And doesn't really listen to my feelings. Whenever I try to communicate about my feelings with her it turns into an argument and she makes it about herself. So yeah our relationship isn't the greatest. And I think having mommy and daddy issues is a trauma in itself. Ppl deserve to have happy healthy supportive families.

Oh right and another trauma I completely forgot (funny how that happens) is when I was 14 and admitted to a mental hospital because I tried to off myself. It was so surreal and they forced me to learn how to make eye contact with people cause apparently thats "how they know im doing ok". Which is kinda fucked considering the fact I recently realized I might be autistic. And eye contact is literally so painful for me. It especially was back then. Anyways the place itself wasnt too bad but the feeling of being trapped overall sucks and being disconnected from the rest of the world isnt fun either. Also I dissociate all the time but I especially dissociated hard thru the whole experience. And sort of made myself into the perfect patient, repeating all their bs and literally lying to myself to convince myself that I was ok so they would let me go. So that was kind of weird.

Anyways I know I have it better than others. And honestly sometimes it's hard to tell what exactly was traumatic in my childhood. I probably forgot and repressed other parts of it too and am forgetting things. But needless to say these unaddressed traumas didn't help my mental state. And i do think that's a big part of the voice in my head begging me to just get hurt more.

Overall my mental state is fucked, It's been really hard for me not to be taken advantage of by another internet pedo. Heck the only reason that isn't happening rn is because no ones dmed me yet. Also I unblocked my old abuser and we are talking again now so thats fun. It definitely doesnt help the cognitive dissonance in my brain of him being actually a nice and supportive dude. I think thats also a part of me wanting to get more traumatized. Since my abuser is a nice person that should counteract all the fucked up sexual things he said to me in the past right? I mean others have it worse, had worse abusers that were actively cruel. That's part of the bitch in my subconscious brain talking. It sucks tbh.

Anyways yeah I probably need therapy but I don't feel comfortable talking about this to my current counselor and honestly its really hard to say out loud. I can talk forever about it by writing it down but the moment I speak words from my dumbass mouth I break down in tears and can't do it. Plus idk, I'm scared if I say anything she'll have to tell my parents and that my phone might be taken away or I'll have less privacy and for a closeted queer where my only current life line is the internet and my online friends: that is a terrifying idea. Idk. I'm fucked basically.

[atsuminthe]

AD INFINITUM

I — AD IDEM

→ SYNOPSIS: They got to feel the ‘end of the world’ on their own skin—they’ll live to see another day, together. Alternatively, Atsumu and Osamu go on a journey of self-discovery, forging new bonds and strengthening their own, as they navigate through a post-apocalyptic world riddled with dangers in hopes of reuniting with their parents.

→ listen to... YIRUMA — RIVER FLOWS IN YOU

“ask not the sun why she sets—why she shrouds her light away...”

Earthquakes weren’t uncommon.

    They occurred regularly, sometimes like clockwork—most of them were small, somewhere around 2 or 3 on the Richter scale—you’d be barely able to feel them if you planted your hands firmly against the ground. Everyone was used to them—yet the one that brought doom upon the entire nation was virtually unpredictable, happening between two ‘planned’ ones and absolutely throwing any effective evacuation plan out the window.

    It was one of the many around the world that almost shattered the continents, rattling the globe itself to the core. Something of a chain reaction, the seismologists said, that triggered every other natural disaster you could think of: tsunamis, landslides, volcanic eruptions.

    A 10, kind of like the highest setting in terms of power levels. The most effective way nature could use to wipe out humanity.

    The first day was what everyone calls ‘the beginning of the end’, where reality hits you in the face and you scramble for safety only to realize that nothing is safe, except for the underground shelters—yet they’re stuffed, some exceeding full capacity as everyone is trying to survive.

    Survive.

    It’s probably a weak word, compared to what everyone is feeling. The self-preservation instinct went crazy in every living organism as fights erupted everywhere, tearing families apart and destroying every bit of decency humanity had left—massacres at every step, every corner, every blink.

    It would be later described as ‘«The Exorcist», but make it ten times worse’ by the eventual survivors. The few that remained, the few that held onto that sliver of hope with their teeth.

    With every collapsing building and each shockwave obliterating everything in its path, life expectancy got lower and lower. Somehow, the masses that huddled together lasted longer than the aristocracy, with their fancy equipment and private housing.

    The second to seventh day was a blur—mostly dying people, scavenging for essentials, trying to find the remnants of your family. On the eighth day, some sort of parasite invaded certain target dead bodies, preventing them from rotting in the scorching heat that settled after the eruption of a seemingly inactive volcano in mount Adatara.

    ‘Undeads’ started rising and they quickly became a problem because of their ability to spread both diseases—similar to rats during the European Black Plague—and infect others with the mysterious parasite through biting, scratching or wounding in general.

    Sendai, along with Tokyo, Hiroshima, Fukuoka and Sapporo, became epicentres of high-risk areas. Anyone within a radius of 100 km was advised to leave immediately, if they could, and head towards a decontamination camp—Niigata, Nagoya, Osaka, Kagoshima or Hakodate.

    The Miya twins took that advice—or, at the very least, tried to.

    They were in Tokyo when it happened, waiting for their match. Who were they playing against? That was the last of their concerns when the rumbling started, shaking the entire building—normally, everyone panicked (not that something else was expected, no matter how organized you are). The more fragile parts of the gym collapsed suddenly, before anyone had a chance to react, and Osamu and Atsumu found themselves outside, pushed by the crowd—but all alone. Where was everyone? Did they not get out? They probably have—Kita most likely steered everyone clear of the falling debris.

    They didn’t have time to worry about that. They’d meet somewhere, sometime.

    Confusion overtook them. What were they supposed to do? The rumbling didn’t cease, nor did it falter in the slightest, so the only option left for them was to continue getting pushed by the crowd and see where they end up.

    It wasn’t great. If anything, their days were fuzzy—no Internet connection, no signal, no way to communicate with anyone. The streets ended up empty by the time they reached Niigata and the deserted buildings creeped them out in a weirder way than they would have in normal circumstances. They were too late, they realized—far too late for their liking, but since they had to go on foot all the way from Tokyo, they supposed it couldn’t be helped. Atsumu complained about the heat, the humidity, the cold nights, the scarce water supply, the even scarcer food ration—everything he could think of, while Osamu groaned and put up with it, as he was used to his twin’s antics. His annoyance didn’t go unnoticed, though—when the blond realized that whining won’t get him anywhere (and he was losing energy over it, too), he stopped. All he said were little comments over the state of the world, cracking some jokes here and there and trying to make his way-too-serious twin smile for at least a few seconds—and he succeeded at some point, when he heard Osamu snort in front of him, even if his back was all Atsumu could see.

    Everything was in shambles—none of them expected anything else, but the only thing they could seek solace in was the other.

    Such was the truth.

    Miya Atsumu only had Miya Osamu. Miya Osamu only had Miya Atsumu.

    They were alone in a world that wanted them dead and they refused to give up.

    They’d hold onto each other until their last breaths.

    “A told ya, we need to stop and eat. We haven’t sat down since we passed that mall in Iiyama!” Atsumu huffed, tugging on the tattered sleeve of his brother’s tracksuit, which prompted the silver-haired man to groan and turn around—his eyes were tired, slightly unfocused, with dark circles under them as he glared.

    “Shut yer trap, ‘Tsumu. We almost reached Suzaka, and from there we have 10, maybe 20 minutes until Nagano,” Osamu muttered, shrugging his twin’s hand off his sleeve. “Quit yer whinin’, we can rest then.”

    “Yer gonna collapse and a ain’t carryin’ ya all the way ta Nagano,” the blond warned, scowling. With a stomp of his foot, he stopped in his tracks and plopped on the ground, refusing to budge even after Osamu’s harsh gaze. “Ya ain’t scarin’ me with that shit. Sit yer ass down and let’s eat whatever the fuck ya found.”

    “At least help me set up some makeshift camp, ya pig,” the grey-eyed man groaned, giving in to his brother’s insistence. Truth be told, he felt the fatigue catching up to him, realizing that he couldn’t go further than Obuse and it would actually be a good idea to rest. Atsumu wasn’t the brightest in many things, but—even he had to admit—he was an emotionally intelligent cookie. Muttering an ‘sorry for that’ under his breath, Osamu lit a little fire with whatever flammable stuff he found lying around as Atsumu took out the blue tent they found under the rubble of a sports store in Tokamachi.

    “So what do we have?” the blond asked, zipping up the flaps of the tent and sitting next to his twin, who was trying his hardest to not drop the tin cans containing their dinner. Incoherent mumbles fell from Osamu’s lips in an attempt to answer and Atsumu only sighed,  gingerly plucking the utensils from his brother’s hands and taking care of the food himself. “Just rest, dumbass. A’ll wake ya up when it’s ready,” he reasoned when Osamu whined something about ‘doing it himself’—his eyes closed a second later, a soft snore escaping him as his head bobbed up and down, making his twin puff a laugh through his nostrils.

    “A’ll stay watch tonight, but ya gotta do the rummagin’ next time we go lookin’ for food,” Astumu explained as he fed his brother some canned soup, smiling gently at the sleepy state he was in—he could barely sit straight, but the smell of food suddenly gave him enough energy to eat. A slight nod was the only confirmation he needed—he patted the grey locks, settling down with his own can of soup. “Could have been worse,” he mused, swirling the cheap liquid in the can. “We could have been dead.”

    “Guess what we have is better than nothin’,” Osamu reasoned in his sleep-laced voice and Atsumu watched him put the can down and stretch. “A’ll take over after a little nap, ‘Tsumu. Ya need yer rest too.”

    “Since when did ya care so much about me, huh?”

    “Since ya decided ta cook for me, even though ya suck ass at cookin’.”

    “Fair enough. Now get ta sleep, else a’m makin’ ya take over watchout duty.”

“As if. Try not ta scream like a girl when ya see another Undead again, yeah?”

Atsumu grunted, looking to the side. With a last laugh, Osamu lied down on the blanked in the tent, falling asleep instantly. His blond twin smiled gently, watching his chest rise and fall peacefully—he turned his face to the still-burning fire, the heat hitting his face welcome against the crisp cold of the night.

Don’t worry, ‘Samu. A’ll watch over ya, like a always have.

taglist: @risjime;

[levis-bathtub]

Demon bros as things I heard in highschool:

Asmo, doing basic math: This looks wrong but at least I look right

~~~~~

Mammon: *snickering obnoxiously as he puts a post-it note saying "Fortnite player" on Lucifer's back*

~~~~~

Satan: Parents are old. They're kind of dumb.

~~~~~

Levi: I'm bad at signals. If someone says they like you does that mean they like you? If someone says they like you and wants to go on a date with you does that mean they like you? What does that mean? People are confusing.

~~~~~

Lucifer: *presents an entire slideshow about his love for Lord Diavolo* (my teacher did this for Jennifer Aniston)

~~~~~

Mammon: Everyone here is invited to my graduation party. I don't care who comes. I don't give a shit.

~~~~~

Belphie: I once got lost in a football field.

Lucifer: How'd you get lost? It's a field??

~~~~~

Asmo: *aggressively whips* I'M GAY

~~~~~

Mammon: You don't DRINK milk, you EAT milk!

Beel: Listen! If it's in a liquid state I DRUNK THAT SHIT!

Mammon: No, cause milk goes to the stomach!

Beel: THEN WHERE DOES WATER GO?

Asmo: Maybe the milk goes somewhere else?

Belphie: Like a separate sack?

Mammon: A milk sack. A sack just for milk.

Belphie: *to Lucifer, blissfully unaware at a completely different table* Hey, how many milk sacks do you have?

~~~~~

Satan: We're talking about throwing babies off cliffs. That's our conversation.

~~~~~

Beel: I'm gonna flex my nipples if I can

~~~~~

Satan, about Beel: Look at him! Missing Monopoly to work out!

~~~~~

Belphie: He's gon' snitch. This bitch is illegal.

~~~~~

*Beel and Belphie yawn at the same time*

Asmo: Was that a simultaneous yawn? That's so cute! That's how I feel :)

Lucifer: What does that mean???

~~~~~

Satan, tutoring everyone: Alright everyone, do questions 1 through 3 and show your work! You hear that Levi?

Levi: *looking at his phone with earbuds in*

Satan: Can he hear me? Should I throw something at him? Hey, everyone let's all make fun of him.

*everyone aggressively talks shit*

Levi: I can hear you guys, you know that right?

Satan: *loud booing*

~~~~~

Mammon: *walks in with new hairstyle*

Lucifer: You look like a fool Mammon. A fool!

Mammon: Wait lemme see. *pulls put phone* Oh... I do look like a fool...

~~~~~

Mammon: They should just rob a bank.

Belphie: Solid advice.

~~~~~

Beel: Can babies eat chicken wings?

~~~~~

Teacher: Belphegor, were you here yesterday?

Belphie: No.

Teacher: Huh. I wonder why I don't have you marked absent...

Belphie: Cause I was here in spirit.

~~~~~

Levi: Which Ruri-Chan bandaid should I wear? Demon Ruri or human Ruri?

~~~~~

Mammon: He’s gon’ snitch. This bitch is illegal.

~~~~~

Lucifer: Here, give me your hand *uses Belphie’s hand to smack Mammon upside the head*

~~~~~

Teacher: Ok everyone, study time is over. Does anyone have any questions before I pass out the quiz?

Asmo: Uh, yeah, can we get like 2 more minutes?

~~~~~

Levi: Wow. I love school internet. It’s so slow I’m gonna split my ass in half.

~~~~~

Beel: Yes, bacon is also a fruit.

~~~~~

Mammon: Real thugs don’t go to picnics

~~~~~

Levi: You’re a scrub.

Mammon: YOU’RE A SCRUB!

Levi: Scrub nation.

~~~~~

Asmo, desperately searching through his purse for a lipstick: EVERYTHING IS IN SHAMBLES

~~~~~

Levi: *pulls a whole ass Wii out of his backpack*

*playing Smash Bros*

Mammon: ARE YOU JOKING? yOU’RE A SCRUB!!*

Beel: can you guys like... stop making me die?

Asmo: You got it, Mammon! Never mind, you got it Levi! I’m pretty sure Mammon died a bunch of time.

Mammon: You just fucked my ass up and sent me to the stars

Levi: You’re a falcon punch pussy

~~~~~

Lucifer: We’re going to talk about mortgages. You guys want to buy a house of your own some day, right?

Belphie: I’m gonna buy a box

~~~~~

Mammon, doing a worksheet: What do I do in my spare time? Beat my meat,

Beel: Hey, teacher? Are we going to have to present these?

Teacher: yes.

Mammon: Oop, never mind *aggressively erases his answer*

~~~~~

Asmo: Awwww! You look so puffy today!

Levi: Thanks. It’s because I just finished crying.

Asmo: Oh.... Well I’m sure you looked cute doing it?

~~~~~

Satan: *pronounces “again” as “aGAINE” just to piss Lucifer off*

~~~~~

Beel: IT’S MOZZERELLA YOU INSENSITIVE CUCK

~~~~~

Levi: See? I cried on this drawing for 5 minutes and you can’t tell :)

~~~~~

Mammon: I drank butter out of a ladle for 20 grimm. It was worth it.

~~~~~

Belphie: BIRTHING CANON

~~~~~

Lucifer: He's triggered over bent bologna

Beel: IT'S NOT GOD'S MEAT

~~~~~

Levi: *rapping an original song about Oedipus Rex to the tune of Fresh Prince of Bel Air

~~~~~

Luke, even though he isn’t a demon because he’s the one who fits this best: *walks in with cupcakes and Hawaiian punch: If you don’t want these I’ll be sad :(

~~~~~

Holy shit I'm sorry this is so long. Tbf I had a wild 4 years in high school and a wild 2 summers in summer school so I have a lot of material. I might reblog with some more if I can remember anything else interesting.

[sunevial]

New Beginnings

I really hesitate to call this a ‘commission’ because @dracodemortem​ just decided to chuck fifty bucks at me back in January with the express purpose of ‘someday write about the space lesbians’...and it’s now March. 

With that being said, I do have commissions open here if you’re interested. 

Anyways, this is meant to be a continuation of this piece, aka, I write so much fluff I might as well just turn this into a pillow.

---

“Go planet hopping on your own,” they said.

“The gate’s impossible to miss,” they said.

“You definitely won’t embarrass yourself by looking and acting like an out-of-place tourist with the first person you happen to meet,” they said.

So yeah, Josie was a fucking liar.

Internally sighing away about seven different layers of embarrassment away, Venny brightened her smile and followed her new ‘friend’ down the sidewalk, both suitcases firmly in hand. Sure, she had absolutely no idea who this blue and lavender haired stranger actually was, other than she apparently liked science magazines in paper form and was probably annoyed that her quiet reading time had been interrupted by a loud and obnoxious interplanetary traveller. Even so, Sol seemed nice and forthright and probably not a serial murderer. If she assumed that of everyone she met, well, that would be just ridiculous.

This was supposed to be a fresh start, after all, her first real change of pace since she graduated college. Sure, it was a bit on the drastic side to be moving to a planet she had never set foot on before, but hey, rent was far cheaper here than at home. Besides, she had always wanted to travel outside of Ylxret, and if it was on company dime, even better. 

“Need any help?” said probably-not-a-serial-murderer asked, craning her neck over a shoulder. In the time Venny had been off in her wandering thoughts, and admittedly struggling with navigating two suitcases, Sol was already five to six paces ahead of her. “I’ve got two free hands, you know.”

Venny laughed a touch, putting on the most apologetic smile she could muster up as she picked up the pace until they were in step again. “I’m good, I’m good, just getting used to wheels on concrete sidewalks since, well, hover technology doesn’t work well here.”

An eyebrow raised over a stunningly purple eye. “You could just say yes.”

“I mean, I could, but that would mean further admitting that I have no idea what I’m doing and I want at least some of my dignity to not be in utter shambles.”

“That rough of a day, huh?”

“You could say that,” Venny said with a deep, defeated sigh.

“Do you want me to take one of the suitcases?”

“Yes please.”

With a slightly amused chuckle, Sol grabbed the handle right from her hand with an unusual amount of grace. Instead of pulling this sorry excuse for luggage along the broken concrete, however, she collapsed the handle into the body and put her hands back into her pockets. Pursing her lips together, she whistled, short and sharp, and kept on walking without a care in the world. As the sound dissipated, a breeze kicked up around the other woman’s feet, and the suitcase slowly floated upwards as if its hovering mechanism had been switched on. 

Venny could feel her eyes widening even as she tried to keep a more socially acceptable excitement plastered across her face. Magic was accepted as a natural law of the three planets, studied as a form of natural science alongside biology and chemistry and physics, but seeing it in practice was still rare on Ylxret. It was theoretical, something that was put into place ‘elsewhere’ since it was functionally impossible to use on her home planet. Well, she was now ‘elsewhere’, and Sol had used it with about as much care as someone flipping on a light switch.

This sure wasn’t home alright.

“Okay, that’s pretty cool,” Venny said with a grin that was probably a touch too wide. 

Sol shrugged, her muscles relatively relaxed and expression neutral. “It’s just air magic. Nothing too fancy.”

“Maybe for you, but magic isn’t exactly…common where I’m from. It’s all theoretical.”

“It’s not exactly common here either,” she replied, quickly glancing around the park with her heterochromatic eyes. “Though most people just see it as a nuisance over an ‘important and fundamental’ science.”

“What is it to you?”

“Well, currently how I’m making up for shitty sidewalk maintenance.”

Venny let out a loud and sharp laugh, quickly covering her mouth as the sound echoed much further than she anticipated. “Can’t argue with that.”

Chuckling ever so slightly, Sol’s eyes drifted back over the park and to a couple of buildings over the next line of trees. “So, what brings you here? Work, leisure, bit of both?”

She thought for a moment, taking in the well manicured trees and green lawns and large swaths of blooming flowers. Most of the greenery back home was inside state-of-the-art greenhouses, cultivated either for study or food production; it was so unusual to see so much plant life maintained for recreational use alone. “Does moving here as part of a company transfer count as both?”

Now it was Sol’s turn to think. “I’d say so,” she replied as the two of them passed under the last couple of trees. The rundown park pavement quickly smoothed out as they hit the main city streets, making wheeling a suitcase only slightly annoying as opposed to practically impossible. “What company?”

“Electrica.” She was met with an even more of a blank stare. “Cybersecurity. Technically, I’m just a contractor for them, but they partnered with my firm back on Ylxret, and I’m here to work on a couple of projects that can’t be done remotely. Mostly testing how resistant their work is to outside interference.”

“So you’re here to break stuff?”

She giggled. “Either break it or make it play electro-pop music.”

“I don’t know if I should feel sorry for your coworkers or not,” Sol said with a snort, shaking her head and letting out a long sigh. “That’s a pretty big first time planet hopping..”

“Yeah, just a bit,” she said with a guilty laugh, idly twirling one of her hair twists. “I…think it’s fine I missed the gate? I did all the paperwork ahead of time, I wasn’t planning on meeting anyone there, I don’t have anything explosive or illegal on me. Or at least I don’t think I do.”

“Isn’t it primarily nuclear batteries and that weird fruit that’s super invasive if it gets literally anywhere?”

“Spotted apple nuts?”

“Yeah that thing.”

“Not a fan of them anyways. Too sweet and smells like window cleaner,” Venny said, shriveling up her face in disgust. Even so, at this point, she’d take a slice of that awful stuff if it meant getting something to eat. Between grabbing documents and packing some last minute gifts and giving a million and one goodbyes, food had been the last thing on her mind for the past several hours. That, of course, was a terrible decision, but that wasn’t 9:00 am Venny’s problem. “I like regular apples and regular nuts, but that fruit is an abomination and everyone knows it.”

Sol shrugged, coming to a stop outside an apartment complex. It was well kept, the stone and metal painted in shades of blue and light gray, though it wasn’t nearly as tall as some of the buildings further on the horizon. ‘Windbreak Apartment Complex’  was printed just above the doors. “I’ll take your word for it,” she said, eyes traveling up the building. A low whistle and the gentle breeze died down, setting the suitcase onto the ground with a gentle thump. “And here we are.”

“Oh, wow, that wasn’t far at all,” Venny replied, quickly scooping up her luggage and putting on her most sincere smile. “Thank you so much for all of this, I feel really bad about interrupting your reading.”

“Don’t worry about it,” Sol said with a shrug, grabbing the glass door and motioning inside. “Take care.”

“You too!” she said, eventually managing to squeeze everything through the door and into the main lobby. A quick glance back to try and wave a goodbye was met only with a slowly closing metal door and a couple of passersby on the street. First person she actually met on an entirely new planet, and she was already lost in the neverending crowd of a large city. Ah well, there would always be next time. It’s not like she had contact information to give out anyways; her com link wasn’t built for text messages or cellular calls.

One conversation with both the building manager and the landlady later, as well as some rather annoying paperwork, Venny had a key in her hand. It was a little quaint how people here still relied on paper documents and physical keys. Incredibly inefficient, sure, but there was a charm to the time it took. Up two floors in the elevator, down a hallway or two lit with harsh white lights, and she finally stood in front of apartment 305. Here it was, home sweet home for the foreseeable future.

This was real.

She was on Toven.

Millions upon millions of miles away from everyone and everything she knew.

Shaking away those inner anxieties, she unlocked the door and stepped into her new home. The inside was understandably sparse; furniture wasn’t set to arrive for another couple of days. Immediately in view were white walls, a small kitchen with linoleum floor, a couple of wooden cabinets and good appliances, and a small carpeted living room. Off to the side was the bathroom, a closet or two, and a single bedroom. Venny quickly wheeled in her suitcases, dropped her backpack on the floor, and flopped down onto the carpet.

Alright.

She couldn’t unpack, given there was no place to put the things she needed to unpack. Contacting home was an option, but that required a router that she didn’t have and wouldn’t have until tomorrow, which also limited options for Internet-based entertainment. Grocery shopping was probably the best idea, given that she desperately needed food both in her stomach and in her apartment, not to mention a boatload of dishes and cutlery and pots and pans.

A knock came from outside.

Or she could answer the door.

Peeling herself off the surprisingly soft carpet, Venny peeked out into the hallway. Standing there was a young woman with soft pink hair and black lipstick, her already short frame almost swallowed up in a large dark gray sweater. A large, welcoming smile was plastered across her face, though it was barely seen behind the box in her hands. “Hi, I hope I’m not interrupting anything.” Her voice was light and airy, almost musical.

“You’re fine, I was just trying to figure out what to do in my very empty living room,” Venny said with a laugh. 

She laughed in a bit of sympathy, shifting her weight until the box sat easier in her arms. “Have you tried making snow angels on the carpet? Can’t do those once you’ve got a couch.”

“That. Is absolutely brilliant and I want to do it now.” 

“Well, then I won’t be here too much longer,” she said, setting the box on the floor and putting her hands behind her back. At a quick glance, it seemed to be filled to the absolute brim with pictures set into frames, some assorted pillows, and a plush corgi-like dog. 

“It’s fine, I don’t mind the company. Not used to everything being this quiet,” Venny said, running a hand through her hair twists. “Oh, I’m Venny by the way.”

“Clarissa, it’s nice to meet you, just across the hall in 306,” she replied. “Um, so, there’s no way I can say this without sounding a little creepy, but you know, word gets around that someone new is moving in, and, so, um, first welcome to the neighborhood.”

“Thanks!” Venny said with a small laugh. “And don’t worry, you’re not being creepy.”

“No, that’s not the creepy part,” Clarissa said, blushing a little and tapping the ground with her foot. “See, moving is hard and stressful and being in a new place with nothing kind of sucks, so my roommate and I do a thing for the new people on our floor where we, uh, put together a kind of care package. So, I asked around and got you some stuff to decorate the place with until more of your stuff gets here.”

She blinked a couple of times. “So…this is all for me?”

Any of the earlier embarrassment seemed to melt away in an instant. “Yup.”

“Are…are you sure?” she asked, kneeling down and hesitantly picking up the box. It was quite a bit heavier than she initially thought, which meant that Clarissa was a lot stronger than what was otherwise suggested. “I mean, this is so nice and I really appreciate it, but this is a lot.”

“Maybe, but you picked it up. Now it’s yours,” Clarissa said with a cheeky grin and a face that said ‘I dare you’.

Well, if there was one thing Venny Devesket was, it was not a coward.

She returned the smile with a smirk of her own. “I don’t think that’s how it works.” 

“Don’t fight Clarissa, you can’t win,” a familiar voice called from down the call. Peeking around the corner was a head full of blue and lavender hair, a knowing smile on her face and a number of grocery bags floating just off the ground. “She’s five feet, two inches of pure, unadulterated stubbornness and mandated hospitality, so just take the box and say thank you.”

“Sol!” Venny exclaimed, looking between the two women with wide eyes and a growing realization that she had been played like a fiddle. “So, wait, you’re…you said this place was on your way home, not that this place was your home.”  

Sol chuckled, leaning her back against the corridor wall. “Yeah, I kind of lied about that,” she said, floating the small collection of bags right up to the door. Inside was a number of quick, microwavable meals, some fresh produce, a handful of spices, and a couple other odds and ends. “Here’s the other half of your care package. Hope you don’t mind Fuji, they were the only ones on sale.”

Sure enough, a bushel of beautifully red apples rested at the top of a bag.

Venny just stared dumbfounded for a moment before erupting into uncontrollable, inconsolable laughter.