#why this strange...fascination with a character's “age”?

[fussystreetlight]

I think antis would have fun for once if they changed their way of thinking.

Instead of thinking:

"They're a child/minor/animal!"

"They're made of atoms!"

"They're made of flesh and blood!"

"This weirdo likes kids/animals!"

"[Character] is age!"

"People are only weird about them because they're drawn to THE NUMBER!"

Try thinking:

"It's an object".

"It's made of pixels".

"It's made of ones and zeros".

"This person likes this character. I don't know the reason but I'm glad they're enjoying themselves because the character they like doesn't reflect how they'll treat people".

"It's an arbitrary and unimportant number that can be whatever people want because characters don't feel time like people do. It's extra trivia about [character] like knowing their blood type. I can think it's weird that someone's attracted to their fridge but that doesn't harm anyone and it doesn't matter whether they've had that fridge for five years or 25 years".

"This person could like this character for any number of reasons; it's design, it's programmed personality, ect. but all I can tell from them liking a character is that they like that character".

[dvchvnde]

when the earth starts spinning backwards

EXCERPT: GEORGIAN ERA AU. ARRANGED MARRIAGE. AGE GAP.

You've been told for most of your life that the measure of a woman's worth laid in the pedigree of her potential suitors.

And maybe that's why—on the eve of your birthday—the pool of your of esteem dwindles to a mere maudlin tear at the bottom of a weather-worn bucket. One swiped up by the trembling finger of your desperate father as he shakes his hand (and within it, the crumpled dowry he had expected to part with on the dawn of your eighteenth year inside his household) at the only man who seems keen to take the heavy burden from his white-knuckled fist.

A man named John Price.

Captain, they say, of the King's Army. Someone who led them to victory on several fronts before being called home year ago when his second wife had passed, marking him a widower with two children. A powerful man on the battlefield, unshakeable in his tenants and faith. A warrior. As fearsome as a wild bear, and hungry for flesh as one, too.

And it's this facet of his character that is given before much else, including the formidable temper that nervously follows when all points of fascinating esteem run dry.

His rage is as legendary as his exploits under the King.

And you're to marry him tomorrow.

A quick, decisive arrangement that brokered no room for negotiations, and likely couldn't since you're well past respectable marrying age and have been already ushered, quietly, into the encompassing title of a spinster. A blemish on your mutable reputation.

But despite the desperate lengths your father had gone to tuck away money for a dowery on the eve of your birth, it had been for naught. Everyone knows the debts your name carries, and any man stupid enough to take you on a bride would only inherit the devastating black hole of your crumbling finances.

Untouchable, it had seemed. Or so those were the whispers late at night.

It's unfathomable a man of his esteem would stoop so low in the social hierarchy for a wife, but from the stilted, haggard conversations you've pried upon, he's in need of a mother to his grieving children. The abysmal state of your family name doesn't matter much when all he needs is a nanny for his children and a pretty thing to warm his bed.

And, they offered begrudgingly, you are rather pretty.

Just much more suited to be the mistress of a Duke rather than a wife of significance to an important advisor to the King.

Envy, you realise, and this pitiless thing called social standing, leaves you very little room to weep over the ill-made match with a stern, ferocious man two decades your senior and twice widowed with three children desperate for comfort you have no idea how to give.

Then again, respectability is more important than comfort, isn't it? And perhaps this is for the best considering your second, and only, option is to agree to warm the bed of a Duke (or several) when he's away from his wife. Who would want to marry the daughter of a penniless estate drowning in so much debt, it's a wonder your father got to keep his flimsy title when the collectors started breathing down his neck, after all? When the jewels were stripped from your neck, the curtains, your clothes and pawned for recompense for a financial loss that happened when you were hardly old enough to feed yourself?

Such is life, you suppose.

And maybe you're giving too much credence to the feverish whispers about your soon-to-be bridegroom.

Two wives—both gifted to him from the kings pool of consorts—who died under strange, mysterious circumstances aside, he might be the polar opposite to the surly beast they make him out to be. One with a temper so formidable, enemies of the country write to air out their grievances after crossing paths with the savage Captain on the battlefield, lamenting the brutal nature of his warfare practises.

It might not be the cage you've been told it will be. Instead of squandering your youth under the thumb of a man so animalistic, they claimed he was birthed by a bear, it could be the escape you've been yearning for.

And perhaps—as silly as the notion is for women of your station—even love.

It's a thought that blots the unease inside your chest. A bandaid over uncertainty even though it's such a silly, silly thing because just what is love to a man thrice wed? Indignity, surely, to stoop so low as to pledge his heart to someone two decades younger than he when an heir has already been secured. Nuptials tied twice before. An old hat at this farce.

What room is left inside of him for a destitute bride with little more than a brooch to your name, and a contemptible debt that will surely ruin any burgeoning matrimony when he doles out whatever sum he agreed to when taking you on as a—

A nanny, maybe.

Pretty thing to warm his bed.

It'll be fine, you think, knuckles bulging from under the thin skin of your fist; so long as there is harmony between you and this man.

That's really all you can ask for, and even that seems overmuch.

He stands across from a man you don't recognise, dressed in a handsome black waistcoat and black breeches. The bristles of his beard—the sight of which gives your mother a terrible start when she sees the unkempt ruggedness of his appearance—brushes against the silk of his white cravat when he angles his chin in defiance at something the man says, arms folded over his broad chest, looking mutinous.

It's not the stance of a man eagerly awaiting his bride but of someone making idle, impatient chatter until the festivities begin.

But—

You can't deny he makes quite a striking spectacle.

His legs are thicker than all of the men in the room, breeches pasted tightly against his skin showing off the beastly appearance they whisper about. More bear than man. And you see it now when he moves. Arms barely contained inside the confines of a thick waistcoat, bulging at the seams. Flexing.

His hair is dark brown. His beard a seamless match to the umbre hue. It peppers along the span of his face, cut clean below the tip of his nose. Bedraggled comes to mind as you take him in. Then—

Wild.

His eyes flash. He rocks forward on the tips of his toes until his nose is a breath away from the man who stands opposite of him, swallowed up in the untenable bulk that threatens to collapse upon him like an unsturdy house. Heaving. The buttons along his jacket stretch taut around every ragged breath he takes, whining under the strain.

He's a beast.

A bear ripped from the wilds and shoved to ill-fitting finery; told to behave.

It's breathtaking, really. All that raw power forced into the shape of a man, one that buzzes with a frenetic energy around the edges as if the potency of it is too much for mortal flesh to carry. Crackling through the air like a whip. His snarling rejoinder clashing against the stained glass mosaic of Mary and Joseph readying their inn for the arrival of baby Jesus, the echo trembling through your bones.

You hadn't realised they were quite so hollow until his growl bounced inside them like a stone tossed into an empty bucket.

Beside you, your mother makes an impatient, contemptuous sound. That, too, echoes, and you smother a wince by burying your hands in the plentiful lace gathering at your thighs. Clinging to the old silks as the men blink from their churlish debate, turning towards the sound.

His gaze is purposeful. He doesn't linger. Doesn't meander. It slashes across the chest of the man standing in front of him like a clutched dagger, stabbing into the thin-lipped frown your mother wears more comfortably than finery with a slight tick of his brow. Settles there just for a moment. Taking her measure. Her worth.

And then it rolls over to you.

Dutiful bride to be.

Standing on fawnlike legs and drenched in a fine sheen of sweat under the swelter of dusty velvet no one expected to ever see the light of day, and jaundiced lace—the one thing your mother was able to convince the debt collectors was worth less than the meagre loaf of bread sitting on the dining room table.

A pittance.

And it's a dismal thing, really. The way he looks at you. Brows pinched. Puckering in displeasure. It's little less than a sneer, and even that feels like a kindness. A blessing.

But you suppose if a woman is fit to lay with the king, then she must be a thing of beauty. That must be the level of esteem he's used to. Lavishness. Sylphlike, pretty things the king is wont to imbibe himself on—a never-ending search for a faerie, or so the rumours go.

But these lissome beauties, the King's hand-offs, birthed this man's children—and rather quickly, you'd heard. Almost scandalously so. But had declared himself the father—at the hurried acceptance of the King—and the matter brought to the church in whispers had been silenced.

You can't help but wonder how you compare in his eyes.

It makes you so acutely aware of every inch of your body that it all starts to sting. Burn. From the way the shoulder of your grown doesn't quite sit tight—having been altered and hemmed over the years to account for your growth; a dress made at the fourteen under the assumption you'd be married away immediately. Extra fabric added at seventeen with illustrious care. There was still hope, you know. And each delicate stitch reflects that. But the ones that follow—twenty, twenty-three, twenty-five—are looser. Less attention was paid to the seam. The project was just that: an obligation. A duty.

Hope ended with the addition scrap of off-colour silk on your eighteenth birthday.

And with such hawkish, keen eyes, you know he must see it.

They dip along the curve of your throat, following a taut, intense line of oceanblue down the drape of it. Puddling at the base where a tear in the lace sits against your neck. Folded into itself because there simply wasn't enough time to mend it properly. A blemish.

Beneath the thick bed of wry, burnt umbre curls, his jaw clenches tight, muscles budging at the sides.

The intensity of endless blue is too much for you to wade through—his stare, the weight of his regard, a crushing thing—and you dip your chin in silent supplication, staring at the floorboards in a shameful display of cowardice to avoid the heat in those eyes. A searing fury hot enough to scald you from this far away.

He doesn't want you.

On the alter, John clenches his fist tight against his thighs as he devours the little bride too frightened to meet his eye, and wonders how much longer this nonsense will take before he can finally sink his cock inside of you—

[malereadermaniac]

ʕっ•ᴥ•ʔっ Triple moon - Percy Jackson x Male Reader

Word Count: 1.1k

Plot: The demigod son of Poseidon falls for the demigod son of Hecate. Cool powers and romance; best of both worlds!

Note: I've never read or watched Percy Jackson & the Olympians!! I'm sorry if any characters are OOC! Also, age demographic of Camp Half-Blood has been made to be 14-20s so all characters are 18+

Warnings: m!reader (no genitalia mentioned) / FDNI Some nsfw mentions but no smut!

The moon. It was the one thing that you were most familiar with since you were a child. You never really knew why, but you knew that you had an affinity for it; it was as if you couldn't go a day without gazing at the celestial object or noticing it in the night sky. You did start to understand this innate connection you felt between you and the moon at around age 14; that was, of course, when you came into your demigod-hood. It started small. Dreams that would occur verbatim within the following week, almost like prophecies. If you wanted to know about someone or something, with enough cognitive effort the knowledge would just pop into your head, like some sort of divination. You found that certain phrases you spoke triggered a specific result as if you were casting spells. And what you especially noticed was that if the moon was shining its silver light, you felt alive; you felt as if you were breathing for the first time, as if blood flowed through your body for the first time in months. As soon as you informed your father of these strange quirks, he shipped you off to Camp Half-Blood as soon as he possibly could. Don't get him wrong! It wasn't because of any nefarious reasons, but your father knew that he couldn't help you truly comprehend your powers.

It felt rushed. Before you knew it, you were lodging with your half-siblings! That was something you definitely had to get accustomed to. But once you settled in at camp, you fit right in! Very quickly, you became quite popular. Cabin 20 had always been quite renowned; the descendants of Hecate were unique compared to the other demigods at camp. After all, whilst other campers had more specific powers, the children of Hecate inherited magic, sorcery, and witchcraft; if you trained enough, you could do almost anything. It almost felt unfair, you could theoretically have infinite abilities whilst other campers were stuck with one. But again, this unique ability of those in Cabin 20 led to the members being well-liked; rather than hated for winning the genetic lottery.

As time passed, you grew and your powers matured. You gave tarot and palm readings to your friends every new moon to inform them of what to expect in the coming month. You had memorised chant after chant and filled at least five notebooks with your spells. Potion brewing became second nature. And after training with other cabins, you even had some control over the elements. It was during your training with the elemental cabins that you made some of your closest friends. Amongst your closest friends was Percy Jackson. Everyone knew Percy; the energetic, brave, and most of all, caring, son of Poseidon. You often trained with him, honing your water manipulation and learning from the literal demigod of the sea. But you two became close friends very quickly outside of any sort of training.

'Very close friends' was how you two described your relationship, but to anyone with eyes, it was clear as day that there were some unspoken feelings between you and the ravenette. It was the way that Percy watched you fiddle with mana between your fingers when you got nervous; nothing but fascination and admiration in his emerald-like eyes. It was the way that you tended to any wound Percy had suffered from after some perilous battle or event, no matter how small the wound you felt that it deserved your utmost attention and magical healing. It was the way that Percy would stutter and blush when talking to you before forcing himself to regain his composure. Really, Percy couldn't be any more obvious with his feelings for you! And you couldn't deny how much you liked him; the man was so loyal to you and so caring! Seriously, if the son of Poseidon heard the smallest comment made about you, he would jump at the opportunity to defend you profusely. You could never bring yourself to try and talk about your relationship with Percy, though. You didn't wanna ruin things! It wasn't until all your friends practically forced you and Percy to talk, that your relationship actually went anywhere...

Percy wanted more than anything to tell you how he felt. How you made his heart flutter. How he couldn't get you out of his head. But despite being brave by nature, the son of Poseidon just couldn't. Not without a little help that is. Annabeth and Nico literally masterminded a plan that resulted in Percy and you being locked inside an empty cabin; some cryptic riddle your only clue to escaping. 'To be let out, you must do 600 push-ups. Or Percy can grow a pair - either or!' You were extremely confused. Percy on the other hand knew what your friends were on about; after all, the two demigods would constantly tease Percy about his crush on you and tell him to 'grow a pair' and confess already. And he did just that. Percy grew a pair and told you how he felt about you; there wasn't really any other choice! Your slightly shocked face and light blush terrified the man, but he kept going. Through the mess of compliments and weird metaphors, you got the message. And that was it. The two of you were official! Percy really had nothing to worry about; you reciprocated his feelings almost immediately!

Boyfriend Percy Headcanons ૮꒰ ˶• ༝ •˶꒱ა ♡

This man worships the ground you walk on. Percy is literally the embodiment of 'I love my boyfriend'. He'll compliment you constantly, and he won't shut up about how great and hot and powerful you are to anyone who'll listen.

Your friends tease the two of you all the time. Annabeth and Nico of course never shut up about how they're the only reason the two of you are even dating. But your other friends also take every opportunity to tease how whipped you and Percy are for each other! Thalia will constantly tell the two of you to get a room when you're gettin' a bit too comfortable with the PDA, Piper's very supportive of you two but will always make fake kissing noises when you so much as give Percy a peck, oh and Leo and Jason constantly jokingly mock how you and Percy lovingly hold each other or look into each other's eyes.

Percy is kinda enamoured with your magic. Like bro nerds out on it more than you do. Percy will watch you play with mana, he'll listen to you cast spells, he'll go out with you to collect moon water, and he'll constantly gift you crystals or potion materials.

Intimacy with Percy was slow to start; neither of you wanted to push the other too far. But after your first time, trust and believe that anytime you and Percy get some alone time in a secluded area, oh you two are making out until you have to physically pry yourselves off of each other!

Oh I actually give up with this fic. Get it out of my sight. Now. -_-

[theprettynosferatu]

I Have Lost My Goddamn Mind

Or

The Dreaded Belle Delphine Post

Part the First: A Most Unnecessary Introduction

I cannot explain why, exactly, I started thinking about Belle Delphine. It's not lust, and it's not outrage I feel, nor is it some strange longing. If anything, what I feel is more akin to professional admiration.

Many did it before her, and many will do it after. But I struggle to imagine someone doing it smarter than her.

You know her, even if only as a half-forgotten tidbit about "that girl that sold her bathwater". But her influence cannot be denied. She emerged almost fully formed as the platonic ideal of the "egirl"; so much so that it's hard to separate how much of that aesthetic preceded her and how much is inspired by her, or her many, many imitators. At the time it seemed like she had been always there, lurking in dreams and the secret fantasies of so many.

We all know she is a person. A human like us. But it felt like we summoned her, brought her from beyond space and into our mortal world with our desires.

The truth is far less esoteric: Belle Delphine does not exist.

She never has.

She is a character. Fiction, in the way that all online personas are, to a degree, fictional- only more so. She is product and art. She is the creation not of a woman but, in fact, a couple. And it was brilliant.

So why don't we hear about her like we used to? Well, to figure that out, we need to understand why it worked to begin with.

Part the Second: Deniable Hentai

It's truly fascinating to read what was said about Belle Delphine before she did outright porn. She was written about in Rolling Stone, in Insider, in the Spectator... mainstream publications tried to make heads or tails of her. They called what she made "performance art", or "surreal erotica", or "sexy trolling". She said she was just goofing around.

That was a lie.

She was never random. She was never just silly. She was calculated, pointing at something without fully going in on it, going right up to the line in a way that felt alien to many, but all too familiar to her target audience.

She was referencing not real porn, but Hentai.

The octopus is not a lol so random choice. It hints at that age old hentai chestnut of tentacle sex.

The face, which we now all recognize as ahegao, is not just a sexy, goofy face. It's an expression used in hentai- more concretely, in the kind of hentai where the lovely lead breaks and the pleasure is too much to bear, so dignity goes away.

Her many "troll" videos of her eating, among other things, photos of men points towards vore, a kink mostly explored in hentai.

Make no mistake: she was making porn. Without taking her clothes off, without ever stating it, giving herself just enough room to pass it off as "goofing around", her work would be read, by the right people, the people in certain kink communities, as porn. Secret porn. Stealth porn.

And they would eat it up.

The longer she kept her clothes on, the more ravenous the desire for her to cross the line, to become what the audience knew she was hinting at. The more she didn't do porn, the more the anticipation grew.

The need for her grew to the point that people paid for her bathwater.

Sidenote: it was never her bathwater in reality. But the concept is where kink lives.

She started a pornhub account. She posted no "porn" on it. She titled the videos in a way that could be read as porn, or as trolling. The joke was obvious: the video titled "Pewdiepie goes DEEP inside Belle Delphine" was just her eating a picture of the famous YouTuber. Funny gag. But also, for part of the audience, another hentai reference.

And so it came to pass that a 20 year old girl edged the internet. For months. And months.

But where could she go from there? How much could she tease being living hentai without showing a single nipple? How to keep the gag from growing old?

Part the Third: The Disappearance of Belle Delphine

And then she was gone.

The content mills churned. They spat out theory after theory. That she had been arrested (thanks to a fake mugshot provided by Delphine herself). That she had experienced a mental breakdown. That she had been kidnapped.

She just... vanished. And the public, the drama channels, the social media users did all the work for her. How to keep the buzz going? Simply stop.

And yes, she left her patreon in the dark and in the dirt. I said she was smart. I never said she was ethical.

The truth, it would later turn out, was that the vanishing was planned. As rest, yes, but also as a way to fan the flames for the endgame. How can the public miss you if you won't go away?

And so, she waited. She saw the aesthetic she brought to the masses become a genre of "girl". She saw the theories and the hit pieces and she... waited. And waited.

And just as the public began to forget her, to move on, she entered her final act. She did the one thing she knew she could not come back from- but it didn't matter. It had been the plan all along.

She returned and made porn.

Part the Fourth: The Death of Belle Delphine

When she returned, brand new onlyfans in her arsenal, Belle Delphine was murdered by her creator.

She made a ton of money. Her onlyfans exploded. Chances are she has enough money, at age 25, to never work again.

But the OF came with promotion. And so she went on podcasts and did the one thing that could destroy Belle Delphine: reveal her fictional nature.

It's bizarre to listen to those interviews. There she is, speaking about Belle Delphine in the third person. Speaking not as the character but the creator. Revealing she had been in a relationship all along. Explaining why she vanished. How everything had been planned out from the very start.

The show was over. The thin line that let people believe that maybe, perhaps there was something real behind the bizarre sex icon disintegrated.

She was a sex worker, playing a very carefully constructed character. She was a person. She was no longer a personification of a million hentai-fueled fantasies. She worked hard. She was smart.

She was brilliant. But human.

Her audience never truly wanted "human".

She still makes a lot of money. She is still working, like so many other sex workers. She is now an icon, an inspiration, the popularizer of an entire aesthetic. But she is, in a way, in the past tense.

She's not even 30 yet. And she's in the past, in our memories more than our feeds.

Now let's not weep for the rich girl. She played her hand masterfully. She held back, teased, gestured towards porn in a way that made it so people couldn't call it porn, while being porn all along. She had a plan, entered the endgame, cashed in.

Is she a good person? I have no idea. Has she acted ethically? Not always. Is she a villain? I doubt it.

But god damn it, she did it.

And she did it smarter than anyone else.

[cecilysass]

Spooky Award Winners 1998 - full list!

The Spooky Awards were the annual awards given to X-Files fan fiction from 1995-2004 (except for, strangely, the year 1997). They were voted on by readers in a process that's a little unclear to me now--I know it must have been occasionally controversial, because there were sometimes concerns about "ballot stuffing." Full disclosure, I'm getting most of my info about this from Fanlore, although as an aged person I do remember the Spookys being a big deal back in the day. I might have even voted for them at some point, but I really don't remember how it worked. I sure af know we didn't have Google Forms. From year to year the categories changed, sometimes drastically, and sometimes they awarded honorable mentions. In the earlier years, from my point of view, it looks like a lot of the same fics and authors won again and again in lots of categories, but by the later years, it seems like it was a much more varied group of winners. I find the Spooky winners really fascinating to look at now because (1) they show what people liked to write and read back when the show was on; (2) they're an interesting documentation of early online fandom / fanfic, including how people liked to categorize fic and pairings; (3) there are a lot of fics and authors on these lists that people still read and recommend; (4) there are some fics that people really don't read and recommend, and I'm always curious why (some might deserve to be remembered more!). I'm going to list the 1998 Spooky winners below and link each fic as best I can so other people can explore them. I chose 1998 because there were a lot of familiar fics to me on this list--honestly, some real bangers--but maybe I'll do another year later. I found every fic but one still online. (Unacceptable by Justin Glasser anyone? - update: found, thanks to @lilydalexf !) A few random observations about 1998: obviously lots of movie fic. Less of a focus on strictly MSR, and plenty of same sex pairings, including Scully slash. More male fic authors / author names than we typically see nowadays. Also, in googling for a hard-to-find fic, I think I discovered another XF fanfic author who went pro (Saundra Mitchell). Look these over and give me your thoughts!

Outstanding Portrayal of Mulder Angst

First Place - Iolokus series - Mustang Sally and RivkaT

Second Place - The Cry of the Truth - A. I. Irving

Third Place - Eleventh Hour - Rachel Anton

Outstanding Mulder Characterization

First Place - Reach - Khyber

Second Place - Antidote - Karen Rasch and Rachel Howard

Third Place - Tangible - Blueswirl

Outstanding Original Character

First Place - Miranda Scully -- Iolokus IV - MustangSally and RivkaT

Second Place - Audrey--A Show of Strength - Meredith

Outstanding Original Villain

First Place - George Naxos --- Iolokus - MustangSally and Rivka T

Second Place - Mark Dupree --- ELS - Dawson Rambo

Third Place - Mr. Chancy/Simon Moloch -- Kevin Justin Glasser

Outstanding Portrayal of Scully Angst

First Place - Wallpaper - Annie Sewell-Jennings

Second Place - Primal Sympathy - Lydia Bower

Outstanding Scully Characterization

First Place - Reach - Khyber

Second Place - Antidote - Karen Rasch and Rachel Howard

Outstanding Characterization of a Recurring TV Character

First Place - Worth her Weight - Marguerite

Second Place - Smoke Gets in Your Eyes - Plausible Deniability

Outstanding Vignette

First Place - Fast Hard Screw on the Main Deck - Bidie McCucholl

Second Place - The Shadow of His Wings - Marguerite

Outstanding Humor Story

First Place - Your Platonic Relationship: An Owner's Manual - Lilla Vaughan

Second Place - The Carrot and the Stick - Plausible Deniability

Outstanding Author

First Place - Dawson Rambo

Second Place (tie)- Lydia Bower

Second Place (tie)- Nascent

Outstanding New Author

First Place - Bidie McCucholl

Second Place - Annie Sewell-Jennings

Outstanding Drama

First Place - The Iolokus Series - MustangSally & RivkaT

Second Place - A Show of Strength - Meredith

Outstanding Mulder/Scully Friendship

First Place - Worth Her Weight - Marguerite

Second Place (tie) - The Abyss Looks Back - Kronos

Second Place (tie) - And Chaos Shall Reign - Kronos

Outstanding NC-17 Romance

First Place - Metamorphosis - Annie Sewell-Jennings

Second Place - Momentary Lapses Series - Dasha K. & Plausible Deniability

Outstanding Non-NC-17 Romance

First Place - Reach - Khyber

Second Place - Merry Christmas, Scully - Stephanie Kaiser

Outstanding Other Romance

First Place - Smoke Gets in Your Eyes - Plausible Deniability

Second Place - Loners - Anne Haynes

Outstanding Mulder/Other Romance

First Place - Banging Your Head Against a Red-Haired Brick Wall - Blair Provence

Second Place - Venture Forth - Punk Maneuverability

Outstanding Scully/Other Romance

First Place - Half a World Away - Jane St. Clair

Second Place - Wheels of Iscariot - Emilie Renee Karr

Third Place - Homicidal Tendencies - Swikstr

Outstanding Skinner/Mulder Romance

First Place - Baton Rouge - Frogdoggie

Second Place (tie) - Challenges - Te

Second Place (tie) - Lasting Consequences - Debra Fran Baker

Second Place (tie) - Rarest Man Series (Body of Evidence, Duty Before Pleasure, Feast and Famine, Resolution, Test of Endurance, Wet Dream) - Sergeeva

Second Place (tie) - Unacceptable - Justin Glasser

Second Place (tie) - Wakened by Silence - JiM Page

Outstanding Skinner/Scully Romance

First Place - A Cold Angel Eye - Jordan

Second Place - Red Valerian Series - Dasha K.

Outstanding Platonic Mulder/Scully Romance

First Place (tie) - The Shadow of His Wings - Marguerite

First Place (tie) - Theory and Practice - Nascent

Outstanding Mulder/Scully UST

First Place - Your Platonic Relationship: An Owner's Manual - Lilla Vaughan

Second Place - Ninth Circle - Tim Scott

Outstanding Slash Story

First Place - Nightclub Girls - Dasha K

Second Place - Nightclub Jitters - Dasha K

Most Chris Carter

First Place - Kevin - Justin Glasser

Second Place (tie) - Antidote - Karen Rasch and Rachel Howard

Second Place (tie) - ELS - Dawson Rambo

Outstanding Series

First Place (tie) - The Iolokus Series - MustangSally and RivkaT

First Place (tie) - Momentary Lapses Series - Dasha K and Plausible Deniability

Outstanding Short Story

First Place - Day 17 - Khyber

Second Place - Fast Hard Screw on the Main Deck - Bidie McCucholl

Third Place (tie) - Camp - Shalimar

Third Place (tie) - All the Children are Insane - MustangSally

Outstanding Long Story

First Place - Antidote - Karen Rasch and Rachel Howard

Second Place (tie) - Reach - Khyber

Second Place (tie) - ELS - Dawson Rambo

Outstanding Story in a Series

First Place - Said the Spider to the Fly - Dark Nascent

Second Place - The Ghost at Her Side - Joyce McKibben

Third Place - Iolokus IV - MustangSally and Rivka T

Outstanding Unfinished Work

First Place - Paper Saints - Jill Selby

Second Place - Above Rubies - Rachel Howard

Outstanding Post-Episode Story

First Place - Camp - Shalimar

Second Place - All the Children are Insane - MustangSally

Outstanding Movie Fic

First Place - Worth her Weight - Marguerite

Second Place - A Makeshift Kiss - Jill Selby

Outstanding Action/Adventure Story

First Place (tie) - Antidote - Karen Rasch and Rachel Howard

First Place (tie) - Iolokus - MustangSally and RivkaT

Outstanding X-File

First Place - ELS - Dawson Rambo

Second Place - Antidote - Karen Rasch and Rachel Howard

Outstanding Crossover

First Place - Homicidal Tendencies - Swikstr

Second Place - The Flash Forward Series/ Slash Evidence Series (Young Blooded, Signature, Worst Case Scenario, Segue: Litany and Requiem) - Saundra Mitchell

[your-nanas-house]

The Beginning

◇ Pairing: Tom Riddle X professor!Reader

◇ Warnings: smut, manipulation, forbidden relationship, Tom Riddle, bath, nudity, dub-con, short age gap

◇ Summary: Tom notices that his favourite professor is a bit stressed.

◇ Note: Sorry for the mistakes and the English. Both character are aged up. Part 2 Part 3, Part 4

The room was filled with the chit chat of students who were taking the Defence Against the Dark Arts class, a subject often called simply DADA by everyone.

In the background of the big lesson room, there was soft music that created an almost pleasant atmosphere in contrast to the type of class that was taking place which had quite heavy topics that frightened many and intrigued others.

One of those people who were fascinated by the subject was Tom Riddle himself, clever boy, Slytherin and much more, especially the darling of professors, of every professor, except Albus Dumbledore, so the young professor Y/l/n was no exception.

There was a special bond between the wunderkind student and the professor, almost intimate if someone misinterpreted it but it was nothing like that or at least that was how it was for Y/n, the young witch had only managed to get her job a few years earlier and right from the start, thanks to the passion for her subject shared with Tom, they began to bond.

The Slytherin student who had now come of age and managed to become the head boy as well as a prefect, had approached the teacher to find out more secrets about magic and because he surprisingly found their conversations interesting as well as entertaining.

This was the real reason why he had started a few months after he met her to pretend to meet her by chance while walking around the castle, thus starting a routine between the two of them that happened almost every day if Y/n wasn't busy with her duties as a Hogwarts professor, which happened sometimes and which annoyed Tom for some strange reason.

Y/n was convinced that Tom saw her as a mother figure, someone to follow and learn from, and so did the young adult, but everything changed one evening.

After a busy astronomy lesson Tom wanted to visit his favorite teacher before heading back to his dormitory but when he reached the door of her classroom, hoping to find her still there, voices made him stop in his tracks.

The door was slightly open and he could easily see what was going on inside Miss Y/l/n's classroom.

She was inside, leaned against a table as she listened attentively to what someone was saying to her, Tom couldn't recognise the man so close to the woman with that look that the student had learned was lustful from the experience of his peers.

The whole situation awakened something all too well known inside the Slytherin heir, envy, pure green envy and resentment turned against them, something animalistic flared up inside him, a need to prove himself just as he had done at the orphanage when he was still a child.

Perhaps that was the reason that started the break of the platonic feelings the student had for his teacher.

New thoughts ran through his head as he decided how to move the pawns of his game in such a way as to receive what he wanted and thought he deserved, waiting patiently for the most suitable moment which came one summer night.

It had been a few months since the beginning of her senior year but they were almost at the end, his attitude had not changed in the slightest towards Miss Y/n and so the young woman did not suspect anything when she received a letter from Tom asking her for urgent help and giving her the coordinates of where to meet.

Worried, the young woman rushed to what she discovered was the prefects' bathroom, she was breathing heavily and was ready to solve whatever the problem was.

The young woman however had expected everything but her favorite student to wander calmly around the bathroom as he arranged the water and suds, meeting her eyes with his cold black ones, a faint smile forming on his face when he spoke "professor".

The atmosphere was suspicious in a way, suspicious but relaxing, since the aroma of soap filled the room as Tom tended to his clothes leaving them propped elegantly on a chair so they couldn't get wet "what's going on, Tom? I got your owl and I came as soon as I could" Y/n declared while she looked around, studying the bathroom in order to understand the riddle and discover why Tom Riddle had made her run all the way there.

She didn't even realize what the boy was doing before he was surrounded by the water and the foam caught her attention again.

Tom was standing in the tub, his clothes forgotten on the chair as the water made his pale skin and nearly Greek god muscles stand out; Y/n couldn't help but notice how his student had grown over the summer, making space for a decidedly attractive young man who reminded her very much of a Greek statue while her y/e/c moved around studying the parts of his skin on view, reaching his neck and finally his face.

She only realised she was holding her breath when their eyes met again, the situation they were in became much clearer to her and a blush appeared on her face making her turn quickly to give privacy to the young man who was staring at her amused with an unfamiliar twinkle behind his pitch black eyes.

She could hear him moving in the water, probably moving closer to where she was before speaking again "I've noticed that you are under a lot of stress lately....I thought a bath might help you, professor" the Slytherin revealed with a mischievous smile that relented slightly when she politely declined several times before attempting to leave the room, soon ending up in the water though, Tom's arms wrapped around her as if they were two snakes, his breath was warm against her neck and she could feel him take in her scent before letting his lips graze the delicate skin of that area "I know you want it too" whispered the young man almost in an attempt to seduce her as he sensed the shiver that ran through her body.

"No one will have to know, my mouth will remain closed" he whispered again, licking this time behind her ear before starting to play with her lobe using his teeth "come on...professor".

Miss Y/l/n's eyes flattered closed despite the fact that she tried to fight her lust, but it was immensely difficult with Tom's large, long hands, which traveled slowly all over her body exploring and almost expertly touching the areas that would make her give in.

It was as if there was a study behind it, his hands traveled with the wisdom of someone who had studied but not yet experimented with practice, this however did not silence the voices telling her not to do it.

The struggle in her head continued and the more time passed the harder it was to resist, especially now that the young adult's body was right against her back and she could feel everything from his muscular chest to his abs to his hard cock against her lower back.

His warm breath was against her now cold neck, making her

shiver and sigh deeply memorising how Tom was touching her because it had been quite some time since she had fucked anyone.

Despite the urge boiling inside her, Y/n shifted, slipping from the wizard's strong grip, stopping his next movements by placing her hand on his smooth chest.

Tom's black eyes met her y/e/c's, his large hand with long, skinny fingers wrapped around her wrist, slowly moving it to his lips, his tongue tracing its way to the inside of her hand before stopping to allow their lips to meet in a strangely soft kiss.

Miss Y/n's tits were against Tom's muscular, pale chest, her hands buried in his black hair as the boy's arms were around her waist bringing her even closer to him.

Their lips moved slowly, both of them lost in the shared sensation, exploring one of the tastes after another. It all ended, however, when Y/n regained control, noticing the head of his cock brushing against her entrance almost as if teasing her.

Reason because she forced herself to pull Tom away from her before licking her lips, weighing up her various options, she wasn't going to go all through with one of her students, it wasn't even supposed to end up like this and yet there she was in a bath with the most talented student at Hogwarts trying to seduce her.

Tom moved closer just as her internal debate ended, it only took her hand to stop him and her gaze followed by a teacher's tone to make him obey "get out of the water, sit on the edge of the pool...this is to stay between us, it won't happen again and I don't want to talk about it ever again, do you understand?" she asked after a few seconds the last question before admiring how Tom's body, shifted and emerged from the water to position itself like she had asked.

And there he was, Tom Marvolo Riddle, in all his glory and nakedness, his legs spread for her and an intense gaze focused solely on her. The young professor had listened to several conversations of the horny schoolgirls going after Tom but had not at all expected what she had in front of her now.

That didn't frighten her though, they had already reached a moment of no return and her hands instinctively moved to the young man's muscular, hairy thighs; they traveled a slow, teasing pace that made all the remaining blood go right down into his now rock hard cock.

The wizard admired closely as Y/n's hands moved over his length, pumping him a couple of times using the water as lubricant before she moved her face closer and left little licks on the tip.

Their eyes met and her mouth continued to work on him, exactly as her hands did, causing small moans followed by hisses that came out of Tom's perfect lips.

His dark eyes had not yet moved away from her just as Y/e/c's were still focused on him, it was intense.

Her tongue came out of her mouth to lick the entire length a couple of times and then take him completely in her mouth, deep throating him without him expecting it.

Her cheeks hollowed as she sucked, Tom's thighs shaked slightly under her hands as sinful grunts escaped his lips; his hips began to move without even meaning to, his tingling hand lusting for dominance gripped her wet hair in a tight grip so that he could choose his movements.

His hips moved swiftly as he fucked her mouth mercilessly focused on achieving his first peak of pleasure, it was a almost suffocation feeling, Tom needed more, much more, but he had almost reached his peak.

The wizard only released his hold when he came, now leaving Y/n free to move as she wanted, despite this the young witch focused her attention till the end on his tip, sucking gently as her hands massaged his balls almost as if she was milking him.

As soon as she realized she had taken every last drop, Y/n slowly pulled away, swallowing it all while looking into Tom's eyes.

The young professor had to avoid him in order to reach the entrance to the prefects' door without falling for another attempt at seduction by the student.

The two looked at each other in silence, Tom wanted to say something but Y/n silenced him with one last kiss, followed by an elegant movement of her wand and three words "this stays here".

As soon as she finished speaking she walked out of the bathroom leaving Tom standing there all alone, looking at the door, his body now dry and his uniform back, it was as if nothing had happened, as if everything had only been in his head but the lipstick marks proved something else.

In fact they only confirmed the wonderful and unexpected sensations he had felt in those few minutes he had been with her, he knew that she had sensed that it was the first time he had done this kind of activity but he also knew that she wanted more, he wanted more, there was something more and Tom was going to take it at all costs.

Things had not begun and ended that night in the prefects' bathroom at Hogwarts, the wizard would make sure of that and he would not put an end to what he had managed to get…what he had been craving for some time and now knew he could have.

Taglist:

@gabile18 , @mrsfullbuster500 , @rex-ray , @elizamalfoyy, @eovjjj , @monkeyking-and-liuer-mate , @jeremiah-va1eska , @gothamchic16, @rabbiteggz , @dieg0brandos-wife , @rottenecstasy , @lazyexcuse , @teh-vampire-bunny , @lobotomy-lover , @slasher-smasher , @sleepycreativewriter , @huntress-valkyrie , @lostmyremembrall, @pastelpiisces

[fataldrum]

Dorian Gray is queer art, period.

Apparently Netflix has decided to make an adaption of The Picture of Dorian Gray with Dorian and Basil as siblings. Unless they're planning to go the gothic horror incest route, they've completely missed the point of the relationship between these characters.

If you haven't read the book, Basil is a painter who becomes infatuated with a beautiful young man, pouring his feelings into a painting. Dorian becomes jealous of the painting's beauty, realizing that he will never be as young and unspoiled as the version of himself on the canvas. He finds himself wishing that the painting could age instead of him. His wish is granted, allowing him to stay young and beautiful until the end, with his moral and spiritual decline reflected only in the painting.

I cannot overstate how queer this book is. Dorian is so beautiful that their first meeting inspires a wave of existential terror in Basil. Dorian changes Basil's entire understanding of art and beauty. This book is so queer it was used as evidence at Wilde's sodomy trial.

The existence of the portrait itself is tantamount to a confession of queer desire. Basil tells his friend, Lord Henry, that he can't exhibit the painting because "I have put too much of myself into it.”

Lord Henry (who will later lead Dorian into a life of vice) laughs, but Basil explains:

“[E]very portrait that is painted with feeling is a portrait of the artist, not of the sitter. [...] It is not he who is revealed by the painter; it is rather the painter who, on the coloured canvas, reveals himself. The reason I will not exhibit this picture is that I am afraid that I have shown in it the secret of my own soul.”

This is how he describes meeting Dorian:

When our eyes met, I felt that I was growing pale. A curious sensation of terror came over me. I knew that I had come face to face with some one whose mere personality was so fascinating that, if I allowed it to do so, it would absorb my whole nature, my whole soul, my very art itself. [...] I have always been my own master; had at least always been so, till I met Dorian Gray. Then—but I don’t know how to explain it to you. Something seemed to tell me that I was on the verge of a terrible crisis in my life. I had a strange feeling that fate had in store for me exquisite joys and exquisite sorrows. I grew afraid and turned to quit the room. It was not conscience that made me do so: it was a sort of cowardice. I take no credit to myself for trying to escape.”

Notice that turn of phrase--it was not conscience but cowardice that made him attempt to flee. Why would conscience factor into his decision? Because he felt shame at his reaction to Dorian's perfect, beautiful face.

Lord Henry is shocked to discover Basil cares for something besides his art.

“He is all my art to me now,” said the painter gravely. “I sometimes think, Harry, that there are only two eras of any importance in the world’s history. The first is the appearance of a new medium for art, and the second is the appearance of a new personality for art also. What the invention of oil-painting was to the Venetians, the face of Antinous was to late Greek sculpture, and the face of Dorian Gray will some day be to me.

Basil goes on to confess, "I see everything in him. He is never more present in my work than when no image of him is there."

Lord Henry still doesn't understand why there is too much of Basil in the painting, so Basil explains:

“Because, without intending it, I have put into it some expression of all this curious artistic idolatry, of which, of course, I have never cared to speak to him. He knows nothing about it. He shall never know anything about it. But the world might guess it, and I will not bare my soul to their shallow prying eyes. My heart shall never be put under their microscope. There is too much of myself in the thing, Harry—too much of myself!”

Lord Henry asks how Dorian feels about Basil, and his response is absolutely tragic.

The painter considered for a few moments. “He likes me,” he answered after a pause; “I know he likes me. Of course I flatter him dreadfully. I find a strange pleasure in saying things to him that I know I shall be sorry for having said. As a rule, he is charming to me, and we sit in the studio and talk of a thousand things. Now and then, however, he is horribly thoughtless, and seems to take a real delight in giving me pain. Then I feel, Harry, that I have given away my whole soul to some one who treats it as if it were a flower to put in his coat, a bit of decoration to charm his vanity, an ornament for a summer’s day.”

Any adaptation that ignores the way Dorian's existence and beauty utterly destroyed Basil is doomed to be shallow and insipid. This is not just a book about a magic painting. It's a monument to queer longing.

[koiiiji]

i accidentally posted this without any text, that’s why im reuploading it, like this, sorry!!

so, sure bby!! will try to figure out something for them

also i think this part ideally fits with latest chapters, bc it was mostly about sabbath!! and wb fandom is finally knowns Joker real name Hajun…so cute!!

you know what else is cute? my bday today😤😤

☾ all characters aged up ☾

*ੈ✩‧₊ sabbath & monster crew nasty/perverted habits pt.2🍐 🐇🧴

COQUETTE!Joker/Hajun

hardly sure that joker shyly would ask you to wear some bows and lace, he definitely have thing for coquette, fight me. seeing you under him, wearing cute skirt, or pink top with open neck and collarbone with lace collar, mix it and add some snow white leg warmers? don’t even think about opportunity to walk next morning.

JERK OFF!Hyeok

mentioned in my really first headcanons that hyeok is pervert who jerk off on random girls who he saw on street, if he found them hot, like bitch do this by memory (he is too lazy to search some porn to turn himself on) so he have good imagination. when he saw you in league of street, wearing your sport uniform he was so grateful that he didn’t participate in competitions that day, his pants felt too tight suddenly.

EXHIBITIONIST!Wooin

wooin is up to everything. like everything. but his dirty secret? to fuck you when someone watches, like a boy/girl from your uni who had a crush on you. maybe share you with someone too (someone white or red haired preferably)

KNISMOLAGNIA!Monster/Deokbong

he can’t control himself when your touch is even a little bit feels like a tickle. it may seem strange, but he is very sensitive in certain places, for example in his back, and when you haven't dated yet, but were just friends, it was so hard for him to restrain himself when you hugged him and stroked his back... poor boy was immediately turned on.

FOOT FETISH!Gyuchan

do i even need to explain? gyuchan fascinated by your legs and foot, bonus points if you doing sport connected to extra load to legs, so firstly he would use massage for your legs as an excuse to touch it and feel. secondly you found yourself mostly in positions in sex where your legs are close to his face, like for example they laying on his shoulders and he stroking and kissing your ankles. when you had a talk he admitted that he had a foot fetish and honestly he was so ready for some jokes about foot fetishists.

[cheapshrimpysheep]

First Date - Diasomnia

SUMMARY: What would your first date with him be like? I know first dates might not go so well, but let's pretend these are different. ;)

CHARACTERS: Malleus Draconia; Silver; Sebek Zigvolt & Lilia Vanrouge

TAGS: Fluff; GN Reader; Flirting; Kissing

WARNING: None. Except maybe a little spoiler about Silver that he tells in Twisted Halloween: Spectral Soiree

WORD COUNT: An average of 710 words per character.

Heartslabyul / Savanaclaw / Octavinelle / Scarabia / Pomefiore / Ignihyde / Diasomnia

COMMENTS: I think Diasomnia is the hardest dorm to write for me. That's because, apart from Malleus, I don't have many romantic feelings for the others. I like them, I love Lilia, but not in that way. But I still try my best to write something that I think you will like. I just hope it's good enough.

I hope you enjoy ;)

Aaaah, the day has finally arrived. Malleus already wanted to ask you on a date for a long time. But with his status, doing something like that in public wasn't a good idea. Something like that being public knowledge could be bad for him and especially for you. After all, he learned from a young age to deal with rumors and social pressure. Besides, no one in their right mind would mess with him. But not only are you human, you can't even use magic. He doesn't even want to think about how your life could be affected because of him. At least for now.

So your first date would have to be discreet and even a secret. Fortunately, you two are quite fans of secrets. He doesn't tell you where he's going to take you. You only find out when the two of you are already in the front yard of the ruins of an abandoned mansion. If you also like abandoned places like him (and me) you will find that mansion fascinating! If you're not a big fan, maybe you'll be a little scared. But either way, you'll find it a strange and perhaps a little disappointing choice for a first date to say the least.

“Something the matter?” he asks you. You say no, that you're just intrigued and curious to know why he chose that place. He smiles, amused. “Then we must enter, to satisfy your curiosity.” he takes a step in front and extends his hand to you. “Shall we?” You take it and the two walk hand in hand through the undone front yard.

That place make you feel a little unease, so you end up squeezing his hand and taking your other hand to his arm, like hugging it. It makes him happy, knowing that you see him as someone who will protect you.

As soon as you walk through the front doors, you see that, despite being slightly run-down, the interior is magnificent. A mansion so gorgeous that seeing it in ruins even feels like blasphemy. He can see it in your face which makes him laugh. You are still holding hands, so he leads you to the dining room while he tells you a little about the history of that mansion. Nothing too scary. People had to evacuate many years ago and just never came back.

The dining room still had the long table, the chairs, the furniture, a few damaged paintings and even a vase of dead flowers in the middle of the table. He pulls out one of the chairs for you to sit on. This one was in bad shape, but as soon as he touched it, it instantly restored itself. You sit down, and he loves the way you're looking at him, intrigued to know what he's going to do.

Standing beside you and smiling at you, he snaps his fingers. And the entire room is restored with his magic. As if time were turning back to his state of glory. He never took his eyes off you. Your smile is the most beautiful thing in the entire mansion. And you are surprised again when the three ghosts of the Ramshackle Dorm appear as butlers to serve you dinner. Malleus asked them for that favor. Of course, your favourite dishes.

He sits right next to you. “Tell me, is this good enough for a first date? Should I restore the entire mansion and the garden as well?” You tell him how you feel, that it's more than enough, that it's one of the most beautiful things anyone's ever done for you. He takes your hands in his and look you in the eyes “I'm glad this pleases you so much. But something inside me wants a little more than this. I'm looking forward to the day when we'll be just like this, but in my castle and with my grandmother, the queen, getting to know you and seeing you as I do.” and he caresses your cheek.

You tell him how much you look forward to that day too, while smiling and bringing your forehead closer to his. After these touch each other, it's your lips' turn.

It will probably have to be you asking Silver out on a first date to wait for him to do it. Not that he didn't want to ask you, but he's not exactly the best in that department. He can be a little... clueless. You will catch him by surprise with your invitation. “A date? No, it's not that I don't want to go on one with you. It's quite the opposite. I'm sorry I didn't express it in the better way.” He gives you his sweetest smile and blushes a little “I-I would love to go on a date with you.”

When you ask about what you could do on this date, he asks you to let him be the one to prepare everything. Since it's the least he can do for not being the one inviting you. That and since he's from Twisted Wonderland, he might have an easier time figuring out places you can go together.

He's a simple, sweet guy who made the mistake of asking his dad for ideas. Luckily he is aware that bungee jumping would not be a good first date idea. Okay, okay, but after messing with his son for a bit, Lilia still manages to give a good tip: go to a place with animals and work your magic... Not your real magic, dummy.

Well, the only thing he can remember is a picnic. He just hope it's not too boring for you. He doesn't do anything too elaborate. Like I said, he's a simple guy. But the place he chose to take you was beautiful. a small glade in the forest on the edge of a small peaceful river. You can hear the water of the river mixed with the birds singing.

You hold the basket as he spreads out the picnic blanket. And suddenly, at the two opposite ends of the blanket, two little birds appear to help him spread it out. You can't hide your surprise and it makes him smile in amusement. You sit down and start your picnic. And some animals appear while you are distracted by each other.

You begin to notice that new birds of other colours have appeared. Squirrels, with both those big fluffy tails and the short-tailed ones. And rabbits, some gray and some brown. Silver sees the way you look at them, the face of someone who wants to pet them. So he uses his "magic" to make the animals approach him and you. Thanks to it, you can pet all those animals, birds, squirrels and rabbits. You may not realize it, but he smiles while seeing your own smile.

Suddenly, those animals start running away. But you don't know why. Until you hears very heavy footsteps approaching. Silver automatically stands and takes a defensive position in front of you to protect you. From the middle of the trees a big bear appears! You get scared, but Silver doesn't. In fact, he even relaxes a little. The bear itself is not even standing, it is standing on all fours and does not look angry.

Silver turns to you, smiling and extends a hand to you who were still sitting on the blanket. “Do not be afraid. I know this bear.” You look at him in shock. “Everything is fine. She just know I was here and wanted to say hello. Would you like to meet her?” You take his hand and he helps you up. He slowly approaches the bear, without taking his hands off your shoulders. He takes your hand and holds it out to the bear, who sniffs it and then lowers her head to let you pet her. A few seconds later you hear some small grunts near your feet. Cub bears!

His father was right. You were so happy playing with those cute little cubs. And even Mama Bear thought she should help you two out a little bit. She pushes you with her muzzle so you fall into Silver's arms. And you take the opportunity to hug him and tell him how amazing that date was being. And if you kiss him on the cheek, he'll kiss your cheek right back, until the two of you are on each other's lips.

(Lilia may or may not be spying on you two and celebrating in silence.)

How did you do that? All people who know Sebek are incredulous! It took a long time to arrive this moment. And meanwhile, the way he treats you has changed. He still calls you Human, but this time it's more like a pet name, a bit like Malleus calls you Child of Man. And he smiles at you a lot more, although most of the time he still has that serious grimace of his. And how did he invite you on the date?

“HUMAN!” he catches your attention and approaches you. “Can I talk to you for a minute?” The two of you move away from the others to speak more privately. And he starts to blush “I... um...” he takes a deep breath “Would you like to come with me on a date?” You often hear people saying that phrase in another word order, but still you accept, laughing a little. “You... EXCELLENT!” he smiles at you, the kind of smile he only gave Malleus. And says he will pick you up the next afternoon.

He knocks effusively on the door, so much so that it scares you. When you open the door, the first thing you see is a huge bouquet of chrysanthemums in your favourite colours. You pick it up and hold it in your arms. You look at Sebek and... um... I mean he looks very handsome and elegant, but was a suit like that needed for a first date? He looked more like he was in the new Operation Proposal group. Nonetheless, the sight of him in that suit could make you blush. He had a confident smile on his face until he looks at your clothes. Well, he didn't warn you that it was going to be that kind of date. So you dressed for a "normal" one.

“WHAT IS THAT? Don't tell me you don't have date clothes! You should have told me! I would have provided you with the best outfit for the occasion!” You argue with him a bit about there being different types of dates and he didn't specify the type of date because he wanted to surprise you. “*Sigh* You’re right. I apologize for not giving you enough information to choose your outfit correctly.” Fortunately, you had more suitable clothing for the occasion. You go up to your room to change and when you come down, you can see his smug face blush.

He takes you to... Diasomnia. He takes immense pride in his dorm and wanted to get you to the best place possible. He has prepared a room especially for the two of you. With the help of Lilia, Silver and maybe even Malleus. (Let's pretend in this "reality", Malleus isn't that attached to you) And, surprise or not: a candlelit dinner. In this case with green fire. Lilia told him it was a classic.

The main course was a typical traditional Briar Valley dish. But dessert was your favourite. Yes, there were times when he spoke of Malleus. You cannot change it on him. And later, somehow, you ended up talking about his parents. You start to tease him about his mother falling in love with a "mere" human. Couldn't that be a parallel with the two of you as well?

“Do not be ridiculous! I would never fall in love with a mere human! My standers are reasonably higher than that.” And if you ask him why you two are on a date: “Weren't you paying attention to what I was saying? I said that I would never fall in love with a mere human. I cannot believe you identify as one! Do you really believe that a mere human would do everything you've done? There are humans capable of using magic, who would never reach your heels. So, never again believe that you are on such a low level, do you hear me?!”

You smile, more flattered than ever. Which makes him smile too. This is your chance to challenge him to prove how special he really thinks you are. How? How about a kiss? After all, this is a date, isn't it?

The way Lilia asked you out on a date was so... him... that you didn't even know if he was just joking or being serious. Either way, you accepted it. Which seemed to surprise him a little. “Khee hee hee. Very well then. A date shall be.” If you ask when, he'll smirk at you. “You enjoy surprises as well, correct?” then he kisses your cheek and disappears.

You would be expecting him to show up at least the next day, right? And that's why he only appears the day after that. Or rather, the night after that. You hear knocking on your window, you draw the curtains, but you see nothing. Until he suddenly appears upside down outside. After the scare he gave you, you open the window.

“Khee hee. Good evening, prefect.” He looks at the pajamas you have on. “It's not what I expected you to wear for our date, but it sure is different. Khee hee, worry not. I'll give you time to change. I'll wait for you in the living room.” Before he leaves your room, you try to ask him where you are going so you know what to wear. “Um... very well, I'll give you a hint: dress to have fun.” And that's the only clue he gives you. Just in case, you dress in a little more sporty style, but still pretty.

He tells you it's an excellent choice and how good that outfit looks on you. You walk to the Mirror chamber for, through the looking glass, him to take you to... an Amusement Park. And since it's already night, the park is all lit up with the colours of the rides and food stalls. Coming from a kingdom solely reliant on magic, this sort of things are fascinating to him. And better, since magic is not necessary to have fun there, nothing prevents you from having as much fun as he does.

He will try to take you to the most crazy rides. If you like that, great! You are going to be the bravest couple in the entire park. Which will contrast with how cute you two are on the outside. If you don't like these rides. There is absolutely no problem. He will ride with you wherever you want and feel comfortable riding. The priority is you. If you are having fun, he will be having fun with you. That and, let's face it, this guy probably already did crazier things than riding a roller-coaster. Which means your fun is more important.

After the rides, you have dinner together at one of the food stalls. He offers to pay for everything. Old chivalry. After eating and before leaving, he suggests that the two of you take a look at the prize booths. He would like the two of you to carry away some good memories of that day.

A small plush of a black and pink bat catches your eye and you tell Lilia how much that plush reminds you of him. Not just for the colours (and the size) but also because both are so cute! “Would you like to try to win one? I make a point of paying for your attempts.” he doesn't want you to worry about money, just having fun.

The prize is a target shooting stand. You have to blow up the balloons with a dart. You have three tries, you need to get at least two right to get that bat. But everyone fails. Lilia notices that the prize booth guy is using magic to make you fail, but doesn't comment. Instead, he pretends not to have noticed and offers to win the plush for you himself.

Fooled by his cute appearance, the guy does the same trick on him, but it fails miserably. With just a quick gesture, he hits the three balloons in a row. Which surprises/scares the booth guy. He could get the highest prize, but he just wants the little bat. “Oh, actually I have a proposal for you.” he says with his cute smile. “What if, instead of the highest prize, you gave us those two stuffed bats? Maybe that could also redeem you from using magic against my dear date. Surely you regret using such a low trick?” he's still smiling, but his bright red eyes are menacing.

He got the black bat with pink details for you and a pink bat with black details for himself. Now, he also had something that reminded him of you. “I hope that trick of his didn't make you sad that your attempts failed.” You say maybe at first, but after seeing Lilia in action and scaring that guy, you're even glad you failed the balloons just to see that. “Khee hee hee. Your way of seeing the positive side of things is undoubtedly irresistible.” and he kisses your cheek “Um? Why that face? Were you expecting another kind of kiss?” he smirks, as an invitation to be yourself and get what you want from him.

If you would like to read more from me, you can find it in my pinned post: INDEX

[literaturewit65]

An Analysis of Dazai's Reactions to Death

Disclaimer: I haven't actually finished reading the manga yet so all information in this post is taken solely from the light novel and anime.

Spoiler alert: This post contains spoilers from 15, Storm Bringer, Dark Era and the anime of BSD

Warning: This post is about Dazai so naturally it contains mentions of su*cide and death.

This is my first analysis of BSD, so please be kind. That said, any constructive feedback is welcome. If you have any further questions about my perspective, please feel free to ask!

Then without further ado...

Bungo Stray Dogs written by Kafka Asagiri and illustrated by Sango Harukawa is a multimedia series which explores the complex nature of the human mind through its characters. One such character, Dazai Osamu, inspired by the 20th century Japanese novelist of the same name and his well-known work No Longer Human, is a character known for his eccentric behaviour and fascination with suicide. Often times his behaviour may come off as bizarre on first sight and one might think it is purely for comic relief. This essay aims to explain the reason behind his strange reaction to the sight of the murdered woman in episode five season one of the anime, or this scene.

This screenshot was taken from timestamp 6:27 of Season one episode 5 of Bungo Stray Dogs.

This will be done by exploring first Dazai’s reaction to death between the ages of 15 and 18 or during Dazai, Chuuya, Age Fifteen and Osamu Dazai and the Dark Era, second by exploring the fact that Dazai is aware that he is different to other people, and finally by exploring the way he deals with this difference and with strong emotions during the present of Bungo Stray Dogs or at the age of 22.

Dazai’s reaction to death was unusual to say the least when he was the age of 15 and it continue to be so at the age of 18. There are three main instances where the audience watches Dazai react to death at these ages. In consecutive order from Dazai’s perspective—rather than the order they were published—is first, during the seventh light novel, Dazai, Chuuya, Age Fifteen just after the fight before Dazai and Chuuya go to meet Randou. This scene takes place from page 53 to 54 of the English version of the light novel. There are several unusual points during this scene. But first it should be made clear that the audience has no real way of knowing what kind of experiences Dazai had been exposed to in his early life which could have a bearing on why he behaves this way at this age. There are plenty of theories but at the time of writing this Asagiri had not revealed what Dazai’s early life was like. Now, back to the point at hand. First it is unusual that a boy of 15 when faced with a dying man would ask him if he would like him to ‘end your suffering with this gun,’ (p. 53) however this may be disregarded considering that Dazai although not a part of the mafia seems to have been with Mori for some time at this point. What is more strange however is what Dazai says next ‘…But you’re showing me something extremely valuable—your death—so I want to pay you back,’ (p. 53). He then proceeds to repeatedly shoot the dead body while laughing. This could be chalked back to some sort of love for seeing others in pain if it wasn’t for what Dazai said before. He states that he sees the man’s death as valuable. There is no way of knowing how often Dazai had been exposed to death before but the fact that he views it as valuable suggests that at this point perhaps he had not been desensitized to it. Viewing death as valuable though is, decidedly, an unusual perspective for a 15-year-old boy to take.

The second time Dazai experiences death is also in the same light novel when Randou passes away. Those who have read Storm Bringer will know that’s not precisely what happens but at this point there is no evidence to show that Dazai has any idea Randou isn’t really dead and so it will be treated as another experience of death. There is a marked difference in Dazai’s behaviour in this instance compared to the one highlighted above. This scene takes place in Dazai, Chuuya, Age Fifteen on pages 118 and 119 of the English version. Whether this difference in behaviour is to be attributed to the fact that Dazai probably knew Randou to some degree or to the fact that Chuuya had earlier highlighted to him the fact that his behaviour in the earlier scene was abnormal is up to interpretation. However, while his behaviour is more normal than before it is still rather unusual. During this scene Dazai seems more aware of the sensitive nature of what is happening because he asks Randou if he has any last words and continues by saying, ‘…If you have any final wishes, we’ll see what we can do to—’ (p. 118). This shows that he is sensitive to what’s happening and that it requires a certain type of behaviour, but it is still rather unusual given that this man is dying because of Dazai’s doing and the fact that Randou was trying to kill the former and Chuuya a few moments ago. Additionally, after Randou explains about what happened between himself and Verlaine before Verlaine betrayed him Dazai goes off on a tangent about the ‘inevitable destruction’ caused by ‘a fight between two skilled spies’ (p. 118). While Asagiri may have chosen to have Dazai say this in order to make it more clear to the reader why Randou tried to absorb Arahabaki, it is still a strange thing to do at somebody’s death bed. This being said, it is clear that Dazai is a lot more respectful at Randou’s death than he was at the G.S.S. officer’s death in the scene highlighted before as Asagiri states, ‘Both Chuuya and Dazai quietly listened as if there was something in what Randou was saying that they couldn’t allow themselves to miss,’ (p. 119). While it is possible Dazai is simply imitating Chuuya’s behaviour here in order to seem more normal it seems more likely that Dazai knows how to react better to the death of a person he knows and this idea is reinforced by his reaction to Odasaku’s death in Osamu Dazai and the Dark Era, which will be explored shortly. It is clear, however that Dazai is affected by Randou’s death in some way when the novel states ‘Some things, however, would not return to normal: the body of a man who no longer felt cold, and the hearts of the two boys who stood rooted to the spot, staring at him,’ (p. 119). This shows that Dazai is affected by death, but he seems to interpret it and deal with it in unusual ways.

The final example of when Dazai experiences death takes place three years later during the second light novel, Osamu Dazai and the Dark Era, when Dazai is 18 years old. At this point he has been in the mafia for three years, so he has probably experienced death quite a bit between now and when he was 15, however this is the death of the person who is probably the only one who ever understood Dazai—with the exception perhaps of Chuuya—and who cared for him in a way which was arguably like a father. This scene takes place from page 159 to 161 of the English version of the light novel. This scene is arguably the most interesting in terms of Dazai experiencing death for several reasons. One of those reasons is that while the scene deals with Dazai’s emotions, it does not deal with his reaction to Odasaku’s death but rather with his reaction to what Odasaku says, which causes a dramatic shift in his world view and which, as any reader will know, ultimately causes Dazai to leave the mafia and strive to become a better person. While the scene does start by dealing with Dazai’s reaction to Odasaku’s death the majority of the middle of the scene is spent on Dazai’s reaction to what Odasaku says to him before returning to his reaction to his death. The scene begins with Dazai rushing into the room, calling Odasaku’s name. This is pretty normal behaviour for anime and manga characters on seeing someone close to them dying. But Dazai then proceeds to say, ‘You’re such an idiot, Odasaku. The biggest idiot I know,’ (p. 160). That is arguably an unusual thing to tell your friend on his death bed, but compared to other things Dazai has done it’s not that abnormal. The scene continues with Dazai saying that Odasaku didn’t have to die. Which is standard behaviour. Then Odasaku says he wants to tell Dazai something. He proceeds with his statement about Dazai stating that he’s looking for his reason to live in the mafia and telling him that he won’t find it. The scene then proceeds to explore the idea that Dazai has finally realised how well Odasaku knows him. The rest of this scene is spent exploring this idea as well as Odasaku’s advice to Dazai. It only actually returns to Dazai’s reaction to Odasaku’s death at the end. By stating ‘Dropping to his knees by Odasaku’s side, Dazai looked up to the ceiling and closed his eyes. His tightly shut lips faintly trembled. The smoke from the cigarette rose straight up to the top. Nobody said a word,’ (p. 161).  The strangest thing about this scene is arguably, that Dazai doesn’t cry. It’s possible that he was holding back tears, based on this description but the fact that it is only implied and left up to the readers interpretation suggests that Asagiri didn’t want to explicitly state that Dazai was crying. In the anime version of this scene as can below there is no hint of Dazai’s eyes being shinier than they usually are when he has lights in his eyes.

This screen shot was taken from time stamp 21:33 of episode 4 of season 2 of Bungo Stray Dogs.

After that the scene zooms out so that Dazai doesn’t have a face as can be seen here.

This screen shot was taken from time stamp 21:38 of episode four of season two of the anime.

This suggests that the decision to not show if Dazai was crying was deliberate. Given how much Odasaku means to Dazai, and that he had just realised how well Odasaku understood him it seems unusual that he would not cry.

The combined evidence of these three scenes suggests that Dazai behaves rather unusually in regard to death but that he seems to process it more normally when the person is closer to him than when it’s a stranger, where his behaviour is decidedly strange. Regardless of his closeness to the person however, evidence would suggest that the way Dazai deals with death is different to other people to a greater or lesser degree.

Now, how does all this have a baring on Dazai’s behaviour many years later in episode 5 season 1 of Bungo Stray Dogs? It has a baring on it if one accepts the fact that Dazai is aware that his behaviour towards death is rather strange to other people. It is never explicitly stated that Dazai is aware of this, however based on his behaviour it is clear that Dazai knows he is different to other people. This is highlighted in a particular instance in the seventh light novel. This scene takes place in Dazai, Chuuya, Age Fifteen on pages 53 to 54 of the English version. In this scene Chuuya stops Dazai from repeatedly shooting the dead body of the G.S.S. soldier. The scene commences with, “‘Quit that, you idiot […]  He’s already dead,’ said Chuuya, ‘Quit shooting his corpse,’” (pp. 53-54). However, it is Dazai’s response to Chuuya’s statement which shows that he knows his reaction is unusual. Dazai responds with ‘You’re right. When you’re right, you’re right. That’s the most normal reaction to have,’ (p. 54). Then as he walks away from the body after dropping the pistol he laughs. This is the scene as it’s written, “‘Ha-ha. ‘Normal.’ Ha-ha-ha.’ Dazai’s hollow laughter filled the cluster of trees, vanishing into thin air,” (p. 54). The fact that Dazai reacts by stating that what Chuuya says is normal and the way he laughs about it shows that he knows that he is not normal. If the idea that Dazai knows he is not normal is extrapolated, then it is implied that he also knows that his behaviour towards death is abnormal. If it is taken into account that Dazai realises his behaviour, particularly around death is odd it makes sense that as an adult he would want to hide that.

All of the above scenes took place when Dazai was still a teenager. However, it seems that even as a young adult he doesn’t know how to behave around emotionally charged situations. This is shown in episode one of Bungo Stray Dogs where Atsushi and Dazai are in the warehouse waiting for the tiger to show up. During this scene Atsushi is amazed by Dazai’s confidence and he states ‘You’re really confident, I’m kind of jealous. They called me a good-for-nothing at the orphanage. And now I don’t know where I’ll sleep tonight or whether I’ll be able to earn my keep tomorrow. […] No one’d care if someone like me were to die in a ditch somewhere. Yeah, I may be better off eaten by a tiger…’ this happens at 13:30-13:57 of episode 1 of season 1 of Bungo Stray Dogs. To Atsushi’s statement Dazai does not reply. He is silent for a beat with a neutral expression as shown here.

This screenshot is taken from timestamp 13:58 of episode 1 season 1 of Bungo Stray Dogs.

He then proceeds to state that he thinks the tiger will come soon. This is an unusual reaction given what Atsushi just said, and it would make more sense for him to comfort the boy. But he doesn’t. This is arguably because Dazai doesn’t know how to react in what would be considered a normal way in an emotional situation like this. If he doesn’t know how to react normally here it is unlikely he knows how to react normally to death. Now, it has been made clear above that he recognises his behaviour as abnormal, and it is likely that since his instinctive reaction is abnormal, he is unable to fake a normal reaction as he doesn’t know what this would be. Hence his unusual reaction in episode five season one. He reacts with such melodrama because he knows that his instinctive reaction isn’t normal, but he doesn’t know what a normal reaction would be, and he can’t just not react either thus he opts for this melodramatic reaction which, although isn’t normal still shows a rather dramatised version of sadness at the woman’s death which is perhaps more normal than what his instinctive reaction would be. And although the others at the scene who don’t know him are rather confused at his reaction it attracts less attention than if he were to react in a similar vein to his reaction to the G.S.S. officer’s death.

To conclude Dazai’s melodramatic reaction to the murdered woman in episode 5 season 1 of Bungo Stray Dogs it not just comic relief, there is a deeper meaning behind his eccentricities. He reacts this way because he is self-aware enough to know that his instinctive reaction to death is unusual and in order to not shock other people at his behaviour, he opts for the melodramatic response he gives since while still unusual it is more similar to the way a normal person might react being a rather melodramatic version of it.

[gegengestalt]

You have to read this Dostoyevsky novel

It's called "Crime in Tobolsk", it's 500 pages long and not many people know about it. It was never translated to any language, so I had to read it using Google Translate.

The main character is called Alexander Petrovich Efremov, the son of an aristocratic family who was raised by monks. In the monastery he becomes an atheist and secretly reads romantic literature, to which he strongly relates.

At the age of 22, he comes out of the monastery to reclaim his inheritance and become rich and powerful to prepare himself for something big. While he's living like a poor man, he engages in scandalous behaviour and degrades himself. This is how he meets Zinaida Ivanovna Denisova, a 30 year old widow who finds him freezing at her door. She takes him in and cares for him despite the impropriety of it.

Efremov is struck by her beauty, but instead of acting corteously, he goes down on his knees on the floor and acts like he's inferior to her. It causes a strange impression on her, but she's impressed by his daring attitude. Little does Efremov know that this woman is connected somehow to the reason why his father keeps delaying his inheritance, and why he was sent to the monastery when he was just a boy.

The story really gets going when a girl with a limp called Katenka drags herself to the Church as he's going out. Katenka seems to recognize him and she knows Zinaida. Tragedy appears in the horizon as Efremov starts to get an idea of the connection between Zinaida, his indebted father, and the financial issues plaguing his family.

Efremov gets involved in a love triangle and becomes friends with his new step- brother, Vasily, who welcomes him warmly back into the family, unaware of the terrible fate and the suffering that awaits both of them.

Other characters are the French servant Albert, Kulikov, a member of the intelligentsia and another friend of Efremov, Anna Efremova, who is Vasily's mother, Leonid Leonidov, Katenka's guardian who seems to be involved in suspicious business, the Alfensky family, and one of the most fascinating characters, Polina Fyodorovna, who is Vasily's fiancé.

Truly it's a shame that there aren't any fanworks or essays of this excellent novel and I hope more people know about it or know that someone else has read it!

[nightwngz]

LIPS RED ENOUGH TO KILL A BIRD !

tim drake x fem!oc

𝘄𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀. . . smut. porn with plot. age gap (the original character is older for 13 years, but Tim is legal age), fem dominance, enemies to lovers, sexual tension, the original character is a villain, probably this may have a part two. Teasing, oral sex, riding, dirty talk, fingering and hair pulling.

𝗰𝗼𝗽𝘆𝗿𝗶𝗴𝗵𝘁. . . no copying of my work is allowed. Free translation is allowed as long as I am credited.

𝗹𝗮𝗻𝗴𝘂𝗮𝗴𝗲. . . as I said in my other posts, English is not my first language. I have tried to make corrections with the translator, but as you all know, it is prone to making mistakes, so I apologize in advance for any mistakes or if anything sounds weird.

𝗻𝗼𝘁𝗲… I had this idea a long time ago and I want to share it with you. On the other hand, I have a few pending requests, but I'm working on all of them, so don't worry. Enjoy, and I hope you like it. 🌷

She was probably the most attractive woman he had ever met.

Don't get him wrong, he could admire the beauty of a female villain without being completely attracted to her. But he swore he had never met anyone like Adeline, known to the Gotham Mafia as "The Queen of Hearts," so fierce and domineering that she could easily take your head off.

Batman had been in contact with her since Dick Grayson was Robin, and Tim had heard stories of her iconic fame throughout his training. She was even described as a woman who used her physical attractiveness as a method of hunting and getting what she wanted.

It was just a rumor. Until Tim Drake finally met her.

She was dangerous. Neither the Falcone family, nor Maroni, nor even Two-Face dared engage in illegal activity in the territories she protected. She ran every criminal organization in Gotham, and the rest were probably just her subjects. Because of this, she has always had an extreme rivalry with Batman, as they competed to be the most feared figures in the city.

And besides, Adeline was fascinated by the hunt, but Batman would never be her prey, but unfortunately the little bird would not have the same luck as the bat.

After a period of apparent inactivity by the Queen of Hearts, during which she was actually plotting in secret, the current Robin was forced to relinquish his mantle to Damian Wayne. Now an independent vigilante, he called himself Red Robin. It was at this moment that the Queen began to play her cards again and regain her influence as the most prominent figure in Gotham's criminal underworld.

These were reasons enough for Red Robin to be forced to investigate her.

It didn't take him long to realize that she was an incredibly smart woman. She managed every part of her plan to perfection. Thanks to old files, he was even able to learn that she built her own empire all by herself, without anyone lifting a finger to help her. She had easily earned her place in Gotham's underworld.

She and her clan were a cancer that Tim Drake had to eradicate from Gotham before it was too late.

Adeline returned to her penthouse that night, and Red Robin waited for her in the shadows of her living room. The apartment was so spacious that only an incredibly paranoid person would think someone was hiding there; she was probably one of those people.

She approached the long leather sofa, her red stiletto heels echoing on the floor with each step. The room was still dark and Tim stood at the far end, admiring her curvaceous, graceful silhouette as she sat down and lit a cigarette.

— Do you smoke? — She asked, aware of the vigilante's presence.

He did not answer.

— Mm... my doctor told me to stop. But it's the only way to calm my anxiety. Strange, isn't it? How many packs of cigars does a Mafia leader have to smoke to be completely calm?

Her voice was just like her: attractive, haughty, and most of all, sharp as a razor or even a playing card.

— You killed five men on the docks last week. I want to know why — He ordered, as if she was somehow obligated to give him answers.

However, she smiled with incredible superiority. Despite the distance, Tim could tell that her lips were painted with a deep red lipstick. She had an exaggerated obsession with the color red, but he couldn't blame her, considering how good it looked on her.

— You know very well, dear little bird, that everything in this world is governed by two things — She said, and started to walk towards the standing figure of Tim, who was standing on the mat in the room. —Love and money... and believe it or not, I am very selective about the things I lend, so you can already guess what happens when someone in this city owes me money for a long time. Bills are bills, Boy Wonder.

Tim was completely silent as soon as he heard the woman say his former nickname. How could she know that he was the former Robin?

— You're wrong about the nickname, Queen. I have no relationship with Robin, let alone Batman.

She approached without taking the smile off her face for a moment. She circled the man's figure, touching his hair with her gloved hand, teasing him.

— Don't try to fool me, Red Robin. I know everything there is to know in this city, which is everything. I know about you, how you were replaced. You were neither the first nor the last Robin Batman had, with the incredibly handsome Nightwing being the first and the red-hooded mercenary the second. If you lift a stone in this city, I know it. I have informants on so many sides, you probably won't know when you meet one. So don't try to play my game with me, I made it, and that's why I always win.

Tim felt like he was being devoured by Adeline's withering gaze every second. He felt cornered, contained, disappointed that he had underestimated her and believed that she didn't know everything about him, his past and his family.

— So... you probably know that I have been investigating you. I've been watching your every move for months.

She moved closer, so close that Tim could have sworn he felt her lipstick on his ear, and whispered:

— On the rooftops, in the windows of the buildings in front of this penthouse, everywhere I go, nothing escapes me, little bird. And although I've always loved the hunt, I must admit that this cat-and-mouse game you're playing is turning me on.

He wasn't quite sure how he had left her apartment that night without being attacked by her henchmen or her guards, but even though she was aware of it, Tim continued to watch her from a distance. He came to believe that the Queen of Hearts was so used to being followed that she didn't even flinch when she learned that she was a victim of it.

She went all over the city, from that fancy bar in Chinatown to certain abandoned businesses in the Warehouse District and finally to the same address as always: her apartment on the east side of the city.

From the moment Tim saw her through the large window, sitting on her couch, he knew Adelaine was waiting for him. With those black eyes, she seemed to be inviting Red Robin to pay her a visit. And under no circumstances could Timothy Drake refuse.

Adeline was not surprised to see the black silhouette in the room again. It would be a lie to say that she had inadvertently neglected the security of her apartment; deep down, she knew that Red Robin was trained to overcome even the tightest security systems. After all, he had been trained by Batman.

— You disabled the alarms. — He said, walking slowly toward her. — Were you expecting visitors?

A mischievous smile lit her lips. He noticed that she looked even more stunning than the last time, even though she was alone in a silk robe and classic red polish on her nails, enjoying a bottle of wine. Without a doubt, she was dazzling.

— Honestly, I was just waiting for you — She admitted, leaving Tim perplexed. — Did you enjoy spying on me from the rooftops today, as usual? This time it was even adorable; no man had ever shown that level of interest in me before.

Red Robin was distracted when he noticed a brown folder on the coffee table that appeared to be a collection of files. Confidently, he picked up the folder, eager to discover its contents.

— What is this? — He asked, lifting the folder so that the distinguished woman could examine it.

— Open it and you will know. No fear, little bird.

As he opened the folder, Tim froze. It contained a detailed file on himself: Timothy Drake Wayne. The document covered his childhood, the death of his parents, his legal adoption by Bruce Wayne, his career as Robin and additional details about his current alias. Unable to react, he simply studied the contents in silence.

Tim placed the documents back on the coffee table and watched her in surprise. He had profoundly underestimated Adeline, even going so far as to think he might be able to surpass her in intelligence and strategy.

— Believe me, I was also surprised to discover that the most influential family of millionaires in the city dressed up as vigilantes and fought crime. — She confessed, her classic red lipstick smile sending shivers down the young man's spine. — Though I must admit I wasn't surprised to discover that Bruce Wayne's third son was my stalker bird, I expected nothing less from a man as formidable as he.

Slowly, she approached him and motioned for him to sit down. Tim felt himself tense, aware that Adeline knew his secret identity. Now it was up to her to decide whether or not to reveal it to the world. He was sure that Adeline would not keep such a revealing secret without getting something in return.

— What do you want from me? — He asked. He was sure that even if she revealed his identity, he would not give in to blackmail or make deals with the mafia.

— Nothing from you. — She replied, approaching him and resting her hand on his knee — What Red Robin or Tim Drake may have is of no interest or use to me. To reveal your identity would expose you to my enemies, and I do not wish to do that. There is, however, something I can offer you.

He was on the verge of despair, convinced that he would have to reject any offer she made. But Adeline was breathtaking. He couldn't help but desire her and wonder what it would be like to feel her red lips and smooth, manicured skin. Her exquisite perfume almost intoxicated him. He knew he was behaving badly and would regret it later, but he thought he should not give in under any circumstances.

The next thing he knew, she was straddling him. Despite his attempts to pull away, Tim's body would not follow the commands of his brain. Instead, she placed her hands on his bare thighs and he closed his eyes, allowing her to devour his neck, leaving marks that would probably last for days.

Her robe had slipped down, revealing red lace underwear that immediately caught Tim's attention. Accustomed to her perfectly clothed body, she looked even more sensual than usual, half naked.

— I... — He hesitated, struggling to control himself. — I shouldn't.

Adeline pulled her lips away from Tim's neck and looked up at him with her classic mischievous smile, although this time her lipstick had smudged a little.

— You shouldn't, but you want to. And we both know you won't be able to resist.

Fuck, she was right. In her presence, Tim felt himself questioning his own intelligence. For a moment he decided to let her be right. After all, as she had told him, the queen of hearts always wins at her own game.

He sealed his lips with hers in a passionate kiss, accepting that he could not resist his urges. He kissed her with the intensity of one who surrenders at the last moment, and she reciprocated with the same fervor, allowing her tongue to meet his.

Tim soon realized that she was in control of the situation. Although they were both on the bed and he was naked, she remained clothed and dominated the scene by being on top of him.

— Fuck, what a good boy — She whispered, leaning down to kiss his chest and trace the contours of his torso with her lips. Tim shivered with excitement as he felt the brush of Adeline's lips on his defined abs, and then her tongue sliding along the curve of his waist. — But too impatient, I see.

Tim quickly grabbed a pillow to cover his face and muffle his moans. At that moment, Adeline descended until she was in front of his thighs and saw his towering erection, dripping with pre-cum.

A smile lit up her face. Gently, she began to caress him, instantly sensing the pleasure Tim was getting from her caresses and the woman's graceful movements. He moaned intensely against the fabric of the pillow and moved instinctively to pull her closer.

— Fuck, fuck... — He groaned, biting his lip.

Tim looked up and watched as Adeline stroked his hair, her eyes fixed on his body. Her hands moved gently down his cock, even going so far as to gently circle the head. From her perspective, the image was stunning; she had never been with a man in his twenties who looked so incredibly attractive. Despite his disheveled hair and the beads of sweat that accentuated his toned abs, he looked magnificent.

— Fuck, baby bird, you couldn't look hotter. — She told him, leaving short kisses on both sides of his inner thighs. — I want to devour you.

Immediately, Tim brought his hands up to Adeline's hair as she worked on his erection. Through her underwear, he could see the obvious wetness that showed her arousal. Meanwhile, she watched him enjoy her action and noticed the veins in his arms stand out as he held her hair.

Although she was an expert at it, she found it difficult to get something that big into her mouth without running the risk of gagging. Although the idea turned her on, she would not allow Tim to fuck her mouth. She was in charge, so things would be done her way.

— I'm going to cum. — He moaned loudly.

Since discovering her sexual attraction, she had found that she had a weakness for male moans. Tim's moans, however, were different; they were so hot that they completely captivated her.

— Hang in there like a big boy. — She said, pulling away for a moment to look at him — You'll have to fill me up later.

Tim was overcome with despair. He didn't know how long he could keep his cock in the woman's mouth before he climaxed and spurted down her throat.

He began to recall unpleasant moments in his life, hoping to distract himself and extend the time. After barely two minutes, however, he realized that he couldn't hold out much longer and that if she was going to fuck him, she should start now.

— Fuck me now, please. — He begged, almost crying. — I don't think I can resist much longer.

She paused for a moment and pulled away to remove the rest of her clothes. Then she approached him again and straddled him.

Tim watched her and was shocked to see her naked and realize how unbelievable it was that a woman like her was with him. Especially considering that although he was of age, she probably still thought of him as a young man.

— All right, baby bird. You've done surprisingly well. And for your good fortune, I usually reward those who behave.

Without thinking too much about it, she moved gracefully on his hips, allowing him to fill her completely. In a way, it was she who was enjoying herself, moving her hips to enjoy herself and at the same time to see him enjoying as well.

Tim struggled inside, aware that she was in control, but wanting to please her at the same time. He considered sliding his fingers to her pussy, and to his relief, Adeline moved to allow his touch.

As he had suspected, she was completely wet. Her clit responded immediately to his caresses, causing her to tremble with pleasure, which made her moan softly. Meanwhile, Tim caressed her throbbing clit with his fingers while Adeline's hips continued to move on him.

— Who assured you that keeping your identity secret would be free, little bird?

[teacupsandcyanide]

I don’t know if it will ever stop being absolutely wild to me how many tumblr users have internalised the propaganda of the johnlock conspiracy even if they weren’t actively believers in it. But it’s also oddly fascinating?

Like no one has to like Sherlock or have warm feelings towards it, I’m not saying it was a flawless masterpiece, but it was just a show that aged poorly and whose audience outgrew it. There have been far worse pieces of media. SPN had all the exact same problems and isn’t talked about as if it was a real person that beat people senseless with a mallet. It is really interesting to think about why “cringe is dead” except when Sherlock BBC is involved.

I do think that there are two main reasons:

A lot of people are emotionally attached to the tumblr cultural practice of hating Steven Moffat, both for things he actually did and things the Daily Mail made up about him.

A lot of people accepted propaganda/misinfo created by or circulated by tjlc into their permanent conception of what Sherlock was, how it ended, and how “everyone” feels about it. A lot of this links back to reason one above.

(Sub reason) Holmes and Watson are pre-existing characters with such mythos around them and such a foothold in queer fandom history that many people seem to have an attitude peculiarly like “these fictional characters are real historical people that Moffat and Gatiss censored from being allowed to be together in the biopic of their lives”. And look, I think it’s stupid that Johnlock was never canon. I do understand the emotions invested in Holmes/Watson and feel them myself. But it is also a strange attitude.

Having said all that I really want them to do a reunion special where johnlock becomes canon and then one of them immediately goes to superhell, purely because I’m curious as to how that would affect fandom opinion.

[leggerefiore]

How would the Pokémon villains ask their partner to marry them?

cw: proposals, fluff

characters: Lysandre, Maxie, Archie, Volo, Cyrus

🔥Lysandre🍷

☕️ Truthfully, he is not sure why he has not proposed to you at some point. Lysandre does not expect to find another person he views as beautiful as nor does he think he would have you slip away from him, yet somehow, in the midst of his plans, it just never comes up. His work consumes him, and he barely has the time to contemplate marriage in his schedule. Yet, it crosses his mind after listening to a grunt talk about his plans to pay for his spouse's entrance fee. It suddenly occurs to him that many men his age and position are married. For a moment, he feels foolish for not acting sooner. There was no need to wait for his beautiful world to get married, after all.

☕️ He spends time bouncing ideas about how to do it with those he feels most comfortable with. Sycamore ends up encouraging him to do just do it naturally. Feeling that if he tries to make a show of it, that would become uncomfortable or distressed by what is supposed to be a happy moment. Malva asks if he cannot just delay it a bit longer, which he ignores. Suddenly, his perfect world cannot be achieved unless he is married. Lysandre begins to make plans for a trip in order to get away from work and make a memorable thing for you both. (Perhaps a proper farewell and remembrance of this world to him partially.)

☕️ A ring was bought to be something discreet yet meaningful. He had been extremely picky to the point that having it commissioned to be custom-made had been the only way to fulfil whatever he felt was necessary for his ring. A Hessonite Garnet had caught his attention, and a golden band felt like the only pairing he would allow. When he finally had it, his heart felt at ease. The orange shade of the gem was a colour that he had long since been fascinated with.

☕️ A trip to Snowbelle for a quiet getaway in the colder locale proved something much needed for both of you. Spending time cuddled up in a cabin was a pleasant escape from the endless stresses related to both of his organisations. Though, there were also a few trips out into the nearby forest for a relaxing hike and a trip to a nearby mountain range to try skiing and other winter proclivities. Of course, it was after a long day spent out in the freezing weather that he found himself with you snuggled into his side in front of a fire. The crackling of flames made his mind wander. The ring box was pulled out of his slacks' pocket.

“For many years now, I have been blessed to have you at my side,” Lysandre spoke with his voice down to a soft rumble, “I am eternally thankful that you and I met, and would never wish to lose you.” He grasped your left hand within his own as he knelt before you. His height made it feel a bit ineffective, but his eyes met yours with a strange gentleness that was solely reserved for those he deeply cared about. He brought out the ring and watched as it glimmered in the fire's light.

“Will you marry me, my love?” he asked with an exposed heart. Your denial could well and truly destroy him. “There is no other I find as perfect as you… Please, let us spend the rest of our lives entwined.”

☀️Maxie🌋

🪨 He thinks about it unfortunately pretty often. Most men his age are married. Though, granted, most men his age also did not nearly destroy the world in pursuit of their own ideals. But, he did have a partner. One he was quite committed to. One that, if provided the opportunity, he would marry. Yet, he just had not found it in himself for so many reasons. His plans had required his full attention previously. Though, now, nothing like that stood in his way. A slight insecurity burned the Great Maxie's chest. He was not someone worthy of such things after what he did. An off-handed comment from Archie about you being his spouse is what finally set him over.

🪨 He quietly debates how to get everything together. There were many things that would need to be done in the case you said yes. Like meeting each other's families properly for a wedding discussion. Maxie truly did not want to do that part, but it was what was proper. He has a headache thinking about how to do it, too. Rings were the most common choice for proposing to a partner, so he knew he would need to look into that as well. Detailed lists are made and spied upon by Tabitha, who makes the rare decision to interfere. A suggestion to take you on a trip to Lavaridge seemed to make Maxie become a bit more grounded towards you.

🪨 Maxie about drives every possible jeweller in Hoenn insane. He is far too picky about the origins and details related to the gems in their rings, which makes him an annoying customer. There is little debate about what ring exactly he plans to give to you. He had already designed it on his computer and was searching for a shop either willing to make it or with something close enough that he could feel contented with it. A ruby ring with a golden band. He would settle for no more or less. The shimmering red of the gem may have reminded him of the shade of the Red Orb, but it also forced to mind his team's colour. Not to mention it just being his favourite gem. Somehow, he eventually found someone through Steven, who only sent aid when seeing a fellow rock enthusiastic in him.

🪨 The trip that Tabitha suggested ended up being a wonderful idea. A traditional inn and the shifting of the season into autumn made for a relaxing visit to the area and hot springs. While he may not enjoy the cold, he could recognise a good pairing. You seemed to enjoy the trip, too. Happy to get away from all the stresses of helping him run Team Magma and Courtney's new persistent glaring regiment. It was after a trip to the hot spring, that you found yourselves alone in your room, watching as the sun set behind the mountainous surroundings of the town. The swirling of leaves in the air and a quiet moment made him recall the ring box in his pocket.

“For what reason that has continued to see you at my side after my incalculable lapse in judgement, I do not know,” he began quietly, feeling that insecurity rise once again. You could do much better than him; you deserved much better than him. But, when you looked at him with eyes full of love, those thoughts were forced back. “I am ever thankful that I still have you in my life and that I was stopped before I destroyed this world,” Maxie felt his hand come to grasp yours. You felt so warm in his grip, your pulse beating in tandem with his own.

The ring was revealed by him as he swallowed. His glasses felt much too heavy on his face as he became aware of just how surreal everything was. “My dear, will you marry me?” The question felt like a solid weight in the air. “I don't think there's another person that I could see myself living out the end of my days with.”

🌧Archie🌊

💧 It crosses his mind a few times. He has been with for so long, and you have stuck at his side through his worst moments. Honestly, he just felt like it did not need to be done. You both clearly were basically married without all the official documents and what have you. The whole of Team Aqua already thought you to be his spouse, anyway. Something official felt redundant. Though, the second he heard Maxie intended to get married, suddenly his opinion shifted hard. Of course, the nerd would feel the need to go through all the legal channels and whatever else. He refused to let the redhead get ahead of him, however.

💧 He debates how to go about it. Between asking Matt and him just telling Archie to go ahead and do it with little thought, to Shelly forcing him to actually be realistic and doing something romantic first, he felt a bit confused. He sighed as the admin made him remember that he probably should speak to his and your families, but he felt that was all tiring. Who cared about tradition? All that mattered was love, and he certainly had that. He did find the talk about a gift of jewellery while doing it more interesting. Could he get you something to better match his anchor? His interest was not in the expected avenues. Archie highly doubted you were going to say no.

💧 He pretty quickly settles on a sapphire ring. It's blue, he likes blue, and it makes him think of the Blue Orb. It works pretty much to fulfil everything he would possibly need it to. Though, despite the insistence of the store clerk to go for a silver band, he demands a golden one. He needed it to match his necklace, after all. His original plan had been to get you a necklace like his, but Shelly shut that down the second it left his mouth. (Matt told him to still go for it, but he could tell the ring was probably a better choice in the end.)

💧 He takes you out for a quiet stroll on the beach of Lilycove as the sun was setting. The sound of the waves lapping against the shore almost felt in tune with his heartbeat. His eyes darted to you a few times, taking in how the light made you almost seem to be glowing. The ocean was nothing but a complimentary scenery as he felt whatever small nervousness melt away. You stuck with him even after the Kyogre madness and supported him wholeheartedly when he changed the direction of his team. He reached into the unzipped part of his wetsuit to go for the ring box.

“Luvdisc, I know tha' I have made some pretty unforgivable mistakes,” Archie felt a rare, sheepish grin fall across his face, “And I'm thankful that you have stuck by me through all that.” His eyes met yours as you cocked a brow up at where he could possibly be going with this. The two of you had long since discussed everything that happened, but he felt the urge to preface it all with that. He grasped your hand tightly as his usual grin split his face. There was nothing to worry about, the Aqua Leader reassured himself.

“Let's get married,” he proudly announced while pulling out the ring, “I already see ya as my spouse, so why not just make it official? I want to spend every day to come at your side.”

💫Volo📜

⭐️ Marriage never crosses his mind. Honestly, he doesn't even consider a long term in his life about most things. Marriage is not something overly common in Hisui. Sure, his people had traditions like it and the clans did, too. In his case, marriages were usually decided by the parents of the person, which resembled what most of the Galaxy Team seemed to favour. But, he could tell you viewed it differently. It was obvious you wanted whatever it was you saw it as with him. And then, after what happened at the Temple of Sinnoh between you both, he just saw it as impossible.

⭐️ Volo listened intensely to what you had to say about your time period as you went on about it. From what he deciphered, it was clear marriage is mostly viewed as a romantic thing to do in your time, not as a way of combing powers or funds. It interests him, as you continued onto proposals and modern married life. All of it interested him, but everything was impossible in the period you both resided in. Marriage between you two would be essentially nothing more than a quiet declaration between you both. There would be no rings or jewellery, only a common understanding of a dedicated relationship. While, he would have been fine with that, something told him that you would crave the image you had in your head of a wedding ceremony.

⭐️ Before he had time to even discuss such things with you, you were gone. The sky which spit you out in Hisui had consumed you once more and taken you back from whence you came. His frustration boiled in his chest. Arceus was mocking him at this point. He gripped a precious agate bracelet in his hand as he glared harshly at the sky. The accessory was difficult to obtain, having to sway previous merchant connections to have it. His plan had been to offer it as a gift before promising to spend his life at your side. It was far too late for that now. He fell to his knees in exhaustive feelings.

⭐️ It was his immortal life that granted him a second chance, he realised. What was meant to be a punishment – a curse, benefitted him greatly. You were in the future, after all. He had nothing but time. Which is how he ended up intercepting you as you stepped out into a more isolated place within Sinnoh. You had just held some sort of meeting with a descendant of his, something he cared little for. The bracelet was still with him all these years later. Volo caught your hand as he gave one of his more friendly smiles. Whatever stunned state you fell into passed quickly. The yellow agate caught the light dully as he slid it onto your wrist.

“... My, don't you look surprised?” he chuckled at your reaction to seeing him again, “I told you, didn't I? I'd meet Arceus even if it took me centuries.” His eyes met yours, feelings twisting in them plainly. It had been so long for him, yet no time for you. Unfair, he wanted to call, completely unfair. Your mind raced with so many things. It was certainly a bold move to propose so soon after re-meeting for the first time in who knew exactly how long, but he did not care. There had been more than enough time for him to reflect on his feelings.

“No matter, that's irrelevant,” he shook his head and pulled you close to him, smiling even brighter at you, “My love, let us finally be together. I want nothing more than to spend the rest of time with you.”

🌌Cyrus🛰

☄️ It crosses his mind at some point when he realises his age. Sure, many people hold off on marriage well into their thirties, and many people even then still opt against marriage due to how stressful it could be. Memories of attempts of arranged marriages by his parents scorn his mind. Business partners still offer their sisters and daughters to him in order to better strengthen deals and raise his status. It was after one of those particular meetings that he felt the urge to finally marry you. His plans had failed, already. There was no point in delaying things further here.

☄️ Cyrus plans a nice dinner at one of the more expensive restaurants in Jubilife, trying to set the mood more than his original plans. Mars had seen his notes about telling you plainly that he planned to merge your family registers and have you legally listed as his spouse. It seemed easier than all the elaborate bells and whistles of inviting you to marriage. A ceremony was deeply unwanted by him. He knew you would not say no, but she insisted on him being romantic and being polite to at least consider your feelings. Besides, it was not like he had parents for you to discuss this with, and yours likely would not be opposed to a marriage with him. At least, as long as they did not know of his previous plans, he supposed.

☄️ He struggled with what to do. Mars insisted he get you a gift. A ring screamed romance to her, but she suggested that he focus on something that you would like. A ring was a common choice, so he presumed it was the safest option. A bright heliodor gem with a silver band seemed pleasant enough to suffice. The clerk had ecstatically explained to him the meanings of them gem, but he cared little to recall much more than some odd association with leadership. Though, the name itself was admittedly what attracted him. Perhaps your waxing poetic about his name's meaning had unconsciously wore off on him.

☄️ It was after the dinner that he brought you out to an isolated place within the city that he took your hand within his as he turned to face you. His eyes gazed at your ring finger as thoughts rushed through his mind. He hated how breathless he felt. The thought of you both unified together made him feel strange. Feeling in general was hard for him, but the idea of finally tying himself to this world was exhausting. Your voice calling his name with a lightly concerned tone snapped him out of it. His hand fished the ring box out from his suit coat pocket.

“... I know I am not the easiest person to live with,” Cyrus began while meeting your eyes, “Every day I am eternally grateful that I have you in my life still. Your presence calms me down from the strange emotional turmoil that foolishly claims me.” He stops himself from going further. Memories of all the time you two had spent together dances behind his eyes. You were the only reason he left the Distortion World. The ring is presented by him with a desperate need to hide his shaking hands.

“Allow us to marry,” he forced down any unwanted hesitation, “I believe you are the only person I could ever wish to spend my days with.”

[anomalymon]

[Essay] MissingNo Therian: An Exploration in Identity, Labels, and the Fictotherian Experience

We've seen a few posts of people wanting more personal essays in the community, so I thought I would write this and crosspost it to Tumblr. -Rex

I am a MissingNo. My exact form is one that's been fluid throughout my life, with Kabutops and Aerodactyl fossil forms having preference, but occasionally switching to the Lavender Town Ghost. I identify as a Pokemon therian or Poketherian for my species - or fictotherian for a broad term. This identification is one which can confuse people - after all, therianthropy is more traditionally associated with animals, and I identify as Pokemon that isn't real. My species only exists in four games that are well over two decades old and is a failsafe the game spits out. Why should I identify as a therian? Despite how strange it can seem, I still prefer therian over other labels such as otherkin and fictionkin. My therian identity is deeply intertwined with my hyperempathy, created by a bias of my animality, comes from viewing a MissingNo as a type of animal, and from experiencing common therian traits.

Therian over otherkin, fictionkin, or fictive

Some may be saying "why don't you call yourself fictionkin?" or even "Isn't otherkin for mythical species, while therian is for earthen species?" To address the later point, there have been better written essays dispelling this. I would highly recommend Therian: Dispelling the Earthen Animal Myth by The River System for a well written and researched essay.

To address the former point, it is personal preference. I did use "otherkin" for years and still do identify as both otherkin and fictionkin, but the term "therian" is more in alignment to how I experience identity. I am an animal, I experience shifts, and I experience instincts.

I don't perceive MissingNo as sapient on the level of elves or some dragons. For me, being a MissingNo is also a "real" thing, as tangible as a dog, bird, or dragon. I don't consider myself glitchkin despite being a glitch, nor conceptkin. I am like the theriomythics who label themselves for being an animalstic gryphon or phoenix.

When it comes Fictionkin and fictive, to me they can be too focused on identifying yourself in the framework of being a character, which I'm not. I'm not a creepypasta character anymore than one of the Hypno species would be. I still do identify as fictional - I can comfortably identify as "fictherian" or my preference "fictotherian" (Which comes from "fictotype". I believe I started this term usage - since when I started using it, I could find no results to it, but I did use it in forum posts, Discord servers, and other methods).

Fictive falls under a similar problem - but with slightly more alienation. While the term is open to me, my identity history makes me feel out of place in a community of walk-ins and introjects when it was one that developed later in life.

How I became a MissingNo and the grip of hyperempathy

My identity as a MissingNo came later in life. I began existing in my system as a canine pup - which I know from behaviors and mannerisms that I later connected to me in the present, and genuinely expressing feeling like a dog as a child. Years later, I identified this species as a manned wolf.

Then at around the age of ten, my identity shifted to a glitch Pokemon. What at least contributed to it was developing a special interest in Glitch Pokemon around this time. This combined with our natural hyper-empathy and perhaps being conceptum to subconsciously alter my identity over time.

These interpretations can cause me to be out of place. While I still love glitch Pokemon and I am fascinated by them, I rarely find anyone who also has an intense interest and fascination while having this level of hyperempathy - even if I encounter others who have some alterhuman or even gender or sexuality connection to glitch Pokemon. Almost uncontrollably do I see glitch Pokemon as genuine Pokemon. I might grow attached to certain Pokemon in the way I would a pet.

The overall psychological influence means that this identity comes down to personal interpretations and personification. I'm not a natural animal and you cannot read about me in a textbook or find any bits of lore within the games, but rather, I am an animal that came from the mind of a mentally ill person.

MissingNo the animal

What defines "animal" varies. Humans are biologically animals and primates, but not all humans identify with those terms, with some taking offense to it. To someone with hyperempathy, a stuffed animal may be as much of an animal as a living one, or even a car might be a type of animal to certain minds. This connection is what makes me feel a MissingNo can be a type of animal.

Additionally, Pokemon are their world's equivalent of animals, and this is how most of my system views Pokemon due to one of our deepest parallel life connections being a humanlike Mewtwo. This sentiment is also one I've seen many Poketherians have. In the world of our origin, we are animals. For another essay on a similar experience, I'd highly recommend "The Fire Burns Bright" by Jasper, an Alolan Marrowak therian.

Within the contexts of the games and many interpretations - including my own - MissingNo is also a bird. It is one of few Pokemon which use this glitch beta typing. Being a bird can be equally as much a part of it and I'd consider birds as a paralleltype and one where I may confidently call myself a bird. Albeit a very odd bird.

The wolf and animal bias in my core

In addition to the bird of the MissingNo, the manned wolf at my heart is still important to my identity. It's in between otherhearted and therian on a sliding scale, and I identify it more as manned wolf-hearted for convenience, but it's closer to "kinth". I don't know why I am or was a manned wolf, but it doesn't quite matter to me either way. What matters is that there is the manned wolf.

To me it feels as if despite my core being or "soul", my mind became a MissingNo while the core remained the same. To my soul, a MissingNo is a type of dog. Then, to my mind, a manned wolf is a type of Pokemon. Both of these identities came about and exist in harmony rather than opposition.

Another comparison that the heart and soul makes is being "feral". Glitch entities in video games to me are almost like an animal which can't be domesticated. They may act fine, but every so often you'll encounter something that reminds you that at their core, they're wild. MissingNo still scrambles sprites and Hall of Fame data - and you can't have a "normal" experience with it. MissingNo is to Pokemon as a wolf is to a dog.

The instincts that made me tear apart playsets when playing house pretending to be a dog are still present in the instincts that make me want to tear apart meat when I eat it.

The Experience of a MissingNo Animal

I fit into many traditional therianthropy experiences and unto a hybrid canine/avian experience - just perhaps with more twists towards the bizarre.

I am a contherian when it comes to mental shifting and almost always feeling like an animal. However, I do experience phantom shifts. I get the sensations of skeletal fangs, claws, and a body that's far heavier and taller than my tiny, human form. Though the bizarre comes when during these shifts, I don't feel like I have skin and much of my body feels transparent, I feel like I should be able to stick my hand through my lower jaw.

I feel the sense of freedom and flight when I ride a bike downhill. For a few minutes when I bike, I can imagine myself flying. I sit in rivers and ponds among the wading birds feeling like I belong. I treat the chicks and chickens we raise like a part of my flock.

I still want to hunt. Sometimes I need to fight my instincts to recognize chicks as flockmates and not food. I like to eat wildly and I like to taste blood and fat in my food. When I eat, I feel like like the blood should dribble through my skinless jaw bone. Skeletal claws should be typing this essay instead of fleshy human fingers.

Conclusion

I am an animal, and despite doubts, I am a therian.

This label fits my experiences better than the alternatives. I don't feel as much alienation or out of place compared to other communities even though my species isn't an "animal" in the traditional sense. Hyperempathy has created this experience for me in that I feel more comfortable saying I am an animal than I am from fiction.

My center being is animal and always has been, it's just how its presented through my life has shifted. The animal instincts have only developed as my species has.

It is my hope that more unusual therians might come forth and be encouraged to examine their experiences - and for both earthen therians and potential theriomythics or fictotherians to explore what exactly "animal" means to them. I want others to also examine where their mind's biases may lead them, how that can impact their identity, and use it to feel more at peace in what the heart wants.

[laforzadelvoila]

Reunion (Chrollo x Pakunoda)

Notes: I've been really interested in Hunter x Hunter lately, and although I haven't finished reading all the manga arcs, I've been following the new chapters and have developed a fascination with Phantom Troupe, in particular with these two characters.

I've been thinking a lot about Chrollo and Paku's tragedy, so this little one-shot is an outgrowth of that. I don't know, maybe I will write other fanfics about them or other HXH characters.

I'm sorry for any mistakes, English is not my first language.

[AO3 | Masterlist]

The small, skinny black kitten let out a weak meow, catching the attention of the tall, slender teenager girl who was walking among the debris piled up in that dump. The blonde girl crouched down and petted the poor cat, who began to purr weakly. She took a piece of bread out of her pocket and offered it to the little creature, who desperately accepted the portion of food, tearing off chunks of bread.

Pakunoda gave a sad smile. Since she was a child, she had the habit of feeding the abandoned animals she found in Meteor City with the little she had left, even when she herself barely had anything to eat. The cat finished swallowing the bread, rubbing itself affectionately against the gentle girl's hands.

“Paku?” a simultaneously strange and familiar voice called her.

When she turned around, the cat ran towards the owner of the voice: a teenage boy the same age as her, with completely black hair, eyes and clothes. For a moment, Pakunoda barely recognized him, but it didn't take long for her to realize that this grown-up young man in front of her was her best friend and childhood crush, whom she hadn't seen in three years.

“Chrollo?” she approached the boy, who was petting the black cat.

Paku knew that the Chrollo she had known as a child had already died three years ago. After all, a part of herself, her innocence and her dreams also died on that same rainy night when the two, together with their friends, discovered Sarasa's dismembered body inside a garbage bag suspended from a branch of a tree. The brutal death of their dear friend was the final straw for the Something Troupe; the miserable inhabitants of Meteor City did not officially exist on paper, making them easy targets for heinous people with macabre interests — long before Sarasa, other children there faced a similar fate — and they couldn't simply accept anymore that their lives didn't matter to the world, that they would never have justice in their lives. All that amateur troupe wanted was to have fun dubbing episodes of Power Cleaners and cheer up other children as wretched as them, but as long as they lived in a place as vulnerable as Meteor City, they would never truly have peace or security.

Pakunoda wanted to remember all of this so that there would be no doubt about what she should do next, so that she would never forget her motivations, why she and Chrollo decided to follow such a dark path: to never again let the inhabitants of Meteor City, human beings with dreams and full of life, be treated like mere punching bags by outsiders. They would be villains who would terrorize the world, damning their own souls so they could protect their bonds thinner than water, and yet thicker than blood.

“You look so tall!” commented Paku, laughing, astonished. When they were kids, Chrollo was easily one of the smallest kids in the Troupe, but now he was almost as tall as her. “And your voice, you sound so mature now—”

“And you've become even more beautiful,” Chrollo said affectionately, a slight blush covering his cheeks.

Paku didn't know how to react for a moment, feeling her cheeks burning. When she first saw Chrollo that evening, she thought not only about how much he had grown, but also how handsome he had become, and her beating heart was taken by surprise by the boy's sweet sincerity.

“You know, you too,” she laughed, shaking her head in amusement, which caused her bangs to slide slightly to the right.

Chrollo was very close to her now. When he raised his hand to straighten her errant lock of hair, Paku finally registered the closeness between them and, startled, suddenly pulled away, her heart racing. The boy was very surprised by her abrupt reaction, the two looked at each other for a few confusing seconds, as if they were strangers; the cat jumped back to the ground in the meantime.

“I'm sorry,” the young man finally said, seeming to feel guilty, although he himself didn't quite understand what had just happened.

He assumed she didn't want him to touch her, and Chrollo feared he had invaded her privacy without realizing it. He felt naïve. Why had he thought that he and Paku would be as close as before? After all, three years had passed, why had he thought that the feelings they had for each other would be the same as before? Paku had no reason to continue to reciprocate those feelings, especially considering that because of the path Chrollo and his friends decided to take, he could never offer her the life she deserved. And the guilt he felt about it tighten his heart.

“No!” Pakunoda quickly tried to explain herself, nervously. “You didn't do anything wrong, I just forgot to tell you that… you can't touch me. And I can't touch you either.”

Chrollo looked surprised and intrigued, but stayed silent so she could continue her explanation.

“Three years ago, when we all swore to offer our lives and follow you on this mission, we also decided that we would find ways to become stronger,” Paku told him “While you were away on your training journey, we were also training.”

“So all of you can also use Nen now?” asked Chrollo, unable to help but feel proud of his friends.

“Yes,” she nodded “I am a Specialist, I trained with Renko-san. My ability allows me to 'read' people's minds from physical contact, in particular their memories.”

“If you are a Specialist, then your ability must have restrictions,” said Chrollo, starting to understand everything.

“I swore on my Nen that I would never read your memories,” Pakunoda finally revealed.

There was much unsaid in the silence that followed. In truth, Paku's restriction was about never touching the person she loved most, but admitting the last part out loud was very difficult. Chrollo deduced, partially correctly, that she had decided never to read his memoirs out of respect of his wish that no one else would know what was written in the terrible letter left by Sarasa's killers. That was true, but Pakunoda's decision was also related to her fear of her own feelings; the life they swore to follow offered no room for love, especially for the one who would be their leader. At least, that's what she believed.

“It's okay,” Chrollo smiled gently at her. “Thanks for everything.”

Paku raised her head, looking directly into the boy's obsidian eyes. She forced herself to smile too. In the end, they concluded, the most important thing was that they would always be by each other's side. They both thought about the last time they touched: during Sarasa's funeral, Chrollo and Paku held hands as they watched the small coffin being buried.

They didn't need to speak out loud what they thought so that the other could understand. Something about their relationship that they both always appreciated was the fact that they understood each other so well, practically like soulmates. Paku feared the increasing emotional distance between them that would inevitably occur, but was aware that it was all for the greater good. She tried to avoid thinking about the idea that she had somehow given up on understanding the person she loved.

“Chrollo, you son of a bitch! You finally came back and you didn't even come looking for us?” a thunderous cheerful voice that suddenly interrupted them made the ground shake.

Uvogin had always been a tall guy, but now he was over two meters tall. He and Chrollo shook hands, though the younger one ended up being lifted off the ground in the process.

“Don't be like that, Uvo. I was looking for you guys, but it just happened that Paku was the first one I found,” Chrollo explained calmly, amused.

Pakunoda and Chrollo exchanged glances. She wasn't sure if he had actually found her first “accidentally,” but it didn’t matter. What mattered was that they were finally reunited.

Behind Uvogin walked Machi, Shalnark, and Feitan, but there were still other members to appear at the first meeting of the Phantom Troupe. Chrollo knew that from that day on, they would be The Spiders, they would be the most terrifying criminal group in the world, and there was still much work and sacrifices to be made — and, having assumed the role of leader, he needed to focus on their mission.

“Everything will be fine,” Chrollo and Paku thought, hiding their anguish and insecurities.