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#( personal brand of poison. )
hoolay-boobs · 9 months
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“What do you mean there’s still so much biphobia in fan spaces? Bisexuals are like some of the most popular characters!”
Yeah, and they either get treated like this:
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Or like this:
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“Biphobia isn’t real” neither are your braincells
#bisexuals deserve better#biphobia tw#biphobia#bisexual#bisexuality#listen not to post this rancid post on bi visibility month but part of bi visibility month is venting about biphobia and that’s okay#long tags#bisexual characters are constantly branded as either gay/lesbian or straight because bisexuality is constantly branded as never good enough#yes harlivy are sometimes fetishized by men who want to get off on seeing girls smooch. yes sometimes these men are the writers of dc#no they do not make up 100% of harlivy content. no gross men drooling over harlivy doesn’t immediately make harlivy straight#harlivy have had queer female writers before. a huge portion of their fanbase are queer girls#just because they are occasionally festished doesn’t mean that they aren’t good bi rep#I see where this person is coming from but no. bc REAL BI WOMEN get festishized by men and that won’t make their sexuality any less valid#would you tell these real girls that they’re actually straight since ‘sapphicness isn’t sapphicness once it’s taken advantage of by men’?#glimmer lesbian content makes me sad bc it’s not even like interpreting harlivy or korrasami as lesbians assuming all wlw is solely lesbian#but also erasing her entire romance with bow. degrading it down to comphet and ignoring bow#like I can at least understand mistakening poison ivy for a lesbian but glimmer?? glimmer??!#biphobic#biphobic tw#bisexual hardships#korrasami#harlivy#glimbow#bi#fucking essay in the tags
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venacoeurva · 1 year
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People (usually youngish with no in depth/actual understanding of lgbtq+ community/history/culture pre-2010s) who get irritated with people reclaiming related slurs they’ve had used against them and others for being whatever they are and use them for themselves with a sense of control and power are so wild,
like yeah dipshit that’s why we do it. I rip the teeth from the mouth of the bigot and smile at them with mine.
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disco-descent · 8 months
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I don't think you guys know what a boycott is or how it works
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aashi-heartfilia · 7 months
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The hypocrisy of Jinshi and MaoMao
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*light novel spoilers*
I just love how hypocritical MaoMao's nature is. She yells at Jinshi for being a 'Masochist' and yet we see that she's no different. Now, by definition Masochist is a person who drives sexual gratification from their own pain and humiliation, plus it relates to Jinshi's tendency to do self harm (like burning his skin with a brand)
And what is MaoMao's most favourite thing in this world?
POISON
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She literally takes pleasure in consuming it and no one can convince me otherwise. Plus she uses dangerous plants and animals and snakes whatnot in the name of her so-called experiments. Her dad may call her a 'mad Scientist' but that is a direct indication of self harm.
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And she calls Jinshi a Masochist.
I mean, think about it! The amount of anxiety she gives to Jinshi! She came prepared with a vomit inducing medicine but even she had no idea whether it would work or not. She was just hoping it would work in the salt chapter.
And the same goes for her hand, on which she has conducted countless experiments. One flower even burned her skin and its marks never left her skin. She said it was all for her hobby. What kind of weird hobby is that? Maybe, our little adorable mad scientist is just like that.
One brands his own skin, while the other takes heavenly pleasure in consuming poison.
So my point is, Jinshi and MaoMao are not that different as one might think they are and that's why their dynamic works so well.
Let's look at the excerpts from volume 5:
She didn’t know how long they sat that way. All she knew was that Jinshi was looking down at her with a faintly triumphant expression, as if he saw that the breath had reached every corner of her body now. He wiped away the tears that had sprung to her eyes as she struggled to breathe. It was then that Maomao felt a flash of intense anger. “I said that if you were going to kill me, you should do it with poison,” she told him. “I refuse to let you poison yourself,” Jinshi said, his fingers tracing her lips. “You can’t pretend you didn’t know that you were one of the candidates. As much as I’m sure you’d like to.” He wasn’t done, either: “Who was that man, anyway? I’m sure you’re not a dancer.” So he had been watching them! “I was just paying for my drink,” Maomao said. “It didn’t cost much.” She tried to look away, but with his hand on her head, she really couldn’t.
Jinshi just choked her and yet he refuses to let MaoMao poison herself. A lot of people misinterpret this scene, and don't like it all that much, saying it was just fanservice stuff but this is how I see it: Jinshi wasn't trying to kill MaoMao, he was just trying to make MaoMao submit to him for once (even if the way he did it was very wrong, but guess he's kinky like that). MaoMao is actively trying to harm herself and Jinshi loves MaoMao a lot, he cannot just let her kill herself.
It was more about him trying to exert his dominance in their weirdish - complicated relationship and that also backfires on him as we see in the next volume that MaoMao escapes Jinshi's grasps using Pairin's techniques.
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And then they both continue to avoid each other in the entire next volume! Because they both realised that they have crossed boundaries.
They both are hypocrites.
And they both refuse to accept their feelings.
In one of the later volumes, she gives Jinshi a piece of her mind on how he should tell her everything clearly, unequivocally, what he feels, and he literally declares that "he will make her his wife", which is nice and all but look at the wording MaoMao used here....
Excerpts from LN Vol 7, chapter 19 called "A man and a woman play the game"
"You’re forever telling me I need to use my words, Master Jinshi, but are you in any position to criticize? Everything you say to me, everything you do, it’s like it’s calculated to save you from ever having to actually say what you mean! To make me figure it all out! You know, you remind me of someone. You act exactly like a man who used to come by our brothel all the time. He was in love with one of the girls, but he would never just come out and say it. He thought it should be obvious from the way he acted. He was so sure he had a good thing going with this woman that he never sent her so much as a letter. I remember how forlorn he looked when someone else swooped in and snatched her away! He kept coming to the brothel after that—to get drunk and whine to the ladies. Well, in my opinion, he could have avoided all that heartbreak if he’d told the woman how he felt. Clearly, unequivocally, so that she knew where they stood. It was the least he could have done!”
Everything came out in a torrent. She felt like she’d said it all in one breath. It was strange, she thought, to hear so many words come out of her own mouth. She was mystified. Jinshi was no less startled, but the shock soon left his face, replaced by something else. He got up off the bed and stared down at Maomao.
Shit. Now I’ve done it. She’d given him a piece of her mind, and he was about to give her one back.
“So I should be clear, should I? Unequivocal? I should say what I mean? If I did, would you actually listen to me? Is that what you’re telling me? I’m going to hold you to that! Right this minute. I’ll say it all. Don’t plug your ears—listen to me!” He grabbed her hands as she was in the process of trying to put her fingers in her ears. He took a breath. He was looking at Maomao, but somehow he seemed almost embarrassed. Finally he managed, “Now listen to me, y—I mean, Maomao! Listen close! I am going to make you my wife!”
It's one heck of a chapter and I suggest you give it a go! The title of the chapter says "A man and a woman play the game" as if to emphasize the very fact that both Jinshi and MaoMao are playing the game.
Jinshi has never confessed his true feelings before this chapter and only implied that he wanted to make MaoMao his wife.
The implications were heavy though on Jinshi's part, and as smart as MaoMao is, anyone would have guessed that MaoMao was one of the candidates for Jinshi's consort. Even the clothes she received (the ones she wore to the banquet) were also provided by Jinshi along with the hairpin. It is never stated outright but seeing as the hairpin was from Jinshi, the clothes are also implied to be the same.
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More or less she's always deliberately ignoring the possibility of having anything to do with him, that is more than professional. Some may call it denial, I call it dense. Maybe, to some extent, she herself is not aware of her feelings because she never lets herself feel anything.
Even Suiren pointed it out pretty early in the manga, that maybe it's MaoMao's way of being reserved. We need to keep in mind that MaoMao is an unreliable narrator and it's more of what she does, rather than what she says that makes a difference.
Even in the chapter that I have quoted above, she had every reason to leave Jinshi, she wasn't working for him after all. But she stayed to make tea for him, even after the fact that she had a long day too. She was almost just as exhausted as Jinshi and yet she was there preparing medicinal tea, so that he could get a better sleep.
Maybe she herself is yet to realise just how deep her feelings run. Till vol 12 she seems to have accepted them, but she still is yet to acknowledge their depth. Maybe it's because of her childhood.
It's not a traumatic backstory but MaoMao had a sad childhood nonetheless....
She was raised by her grand uncle and her real father was eccentric, who scared her. Her mother must also appear to be kind of demonic to her, since she was desperate enough to cut MaoMao's Pinky finger and send it to Lahan. So it's safe to say that MaoMao never received proper parental affection. And adding to the fact that, a brothel is not exactly an ideal place for raising a child.... especially when the birth of MaoMao was the one thing that brought the brothel to its knees...even if being born wasn't her choice.
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Plus MaoMao stated it herself that when she was a baby, no one would come to sooth her until their work was finished, implying that even if MaoMao and her brothel sisters are close, they are not that close. A mother's love is different and she never received it. No one can love you more than your mother and MaoMao was deprived of that. She soon realised that no one was coming. Life is hard and she has no choice but to face it!
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So, she got interested in poison.
Maybe she doesn't love herself or her life as much as she says / pretends she does. She's always like "yeah, I would very much like my head to be with my body" and "if I stay low profile maybe I can survive here" etc but maybe deep down that's not the case. Maybe that's why she loves poison so much. The implications are crazy.
And to break MaoMao's shell, Jinshi has no choice but to be a bit more forceful at times? At least that's how I interpret that choking scene. Jinshi was angry at MaoMao because she deliberately suggested him to marry consort Rishu and danced with Rikuson.
Even if Jinshi never said it outright, he was giving hints the entire time.
But well the tables turned and MaoMao topped him instead, lol (vol 7) and later we even see that our little stray cat has accepted Jinshi and she's ready to be in a relationship with him (vol 12).
Plus she is intrigued by the process of birth (she wants to eat her baby's placenta, it's kind of uggghhh.... but anyways, that MaoMao we're talking about, she's just weird that way)
Maybe not after too long she'll realise that if she has to give birth, she can only have it with Jinshi and no one else.
~Sunshine
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stormsthatrage · 5 months
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Imagine: Samantha Manson rents an apartment with other students in university because she wants to pay her own way through college. One night, the other students throw a party. Sam takes refuge in the campus library during this, because she does not want to be around that. But eventually the library closes for the night, and Sam has to go back.
Sam walks in on the partygoers, still there, hanging out around a "summoning ritual" for fun. They're cleaning up -- the ritual didn't work, obviously.
Sam wordlessly halts the clean-up efforts in their tracks by taking one look at the summoning circle, seizing a paintbrush, bodying people out of the way, and making a dozen minor adjustments to the summoning circle.
It's Sam. No one stops her, and no one is brave enough to ask any questions.
Sam finishes, then walks off without saying anything.
The partygoers look at each other, and then immediately try the summoning ritual again.
(Look, Sam has a reputation as a goth and, if you believe in that stuff, as a witch. Not to say that any of them actually believe in that stuff, but sometimes it's fun to pretend like you do, and, well. They already decided to give it their best shot tonight, and they know that a Sam-approved summoning circle is the best shot they'll get.)
They read out the spell. The candles flare, the flame turning a dark, poisonous green, then blow out. A surge of black light shoots up from the summoning circle, and a presence thickens the air around them.
Before them appears a being that they know, in their soul, is not of this world.
A creature of the realm of the dead looms before them, crown ablaze with fury. "Who dares--"
Sam, nonchalant, wanders back into the room. Wanders over to the summoning circle. Casually erases, with the tip of her shoe, what they know from their brief study of their occult book to be the containment layer of the summoning circle.
Casually says, "Hey, Danny, what pizza toppings do you want?"
The presence fades, but does not vanish completely. "Oh, come on Sam," says the being that an animal part of them recognizes as of the realm of the dead. "What the hell, you know I hate that."
Sam wanders back out of the room, calling over her shoulder, "Well, I hate having my thermos broken!"
The being floats out of the summoning circle, and takes on the shape of a boy, touching down to the ground. The presence fades even further, until they wouldn't be able to tell the creature wasn't a boy if they hadn't already seen.
"Okay, first of all, that was at least 50% Tucker's fault--" it says, trailing after Sam. The conversation becomes unintelligible as they go to Sam's room and shut the door.
The partygoers are left in silence, with paint that has been turned to ash, brand-new candles that have been burned to stubs, and a terrifying new knowledge of the existence of the beyond.
And, for the unluckiest of them, terrifying new knowledge that the person they share a roof with has regular, real, dealings with the dead.
(Twenty minutes later, the pizza arrives. With a pineapple topping, of course.)
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unbidden-yidden · 7 months
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I already regret making this post, but I think this needs to be a real discussion.
** Please note: I 100% do NOT want goyische opinions on this post. I am not interested, they are not helpful, and I will block you without hesitation even if we've been mutuals forever **
I think we have reached the level of Holocaust inversion on the left that we actually need to recalibrate the entire way we engage with an alarming amount of leftist goyim, because they have decided that their twisted understanding of Zionism as a form of 'apartheid genocidal ethnonationalist fascism' is on the same level as the Nazis.
Now regardless of how that makes you, as a Jew feel, that is how a lot of them are viewing this, period.
That means that you should assume that every single "we punch Nazis, not debate them" anti-fascist principle out there can be applied in full force to Zionists [with the understanding that their definition of Zionist usually means every Jew they don't like or agree with or who doesn't perform their brand of politics to the level they are asking]
Remember that video of an actual, real elderly Nazi that just croaks in the middle of his hateful yelling that went viral? Remember how happy people were when Richard Spencer got punched? Remember the whole "the only good Nazi is a dead Nazi" slogan? That whole idea that you cannot debate white supremacists and fascists because that inherently means debating your humanity and makes their position seem valid enough to debate?
Yeah. For these people, all of that applies to Zionists [and whoever they decide to label as such]
So yeah, an older guy protesting got killed? Same reaction as yelling Nazi dude above. Shrug.
A brutal massacre of Israelis and their neighbors that wiped out 1400 men, women and children? Imagine that some group managed to do that to 1400 Nazi families. We might find the sadistic nature of the deaths distasteful, but really: how many tears are you shedding?
Civilian population centers of primarily Jews are under constant missile shelling and bomb threats? Imagine that we were talking about Nazi Germany instead. Sucks for them I guess, right? 🤷‍♀️
Their reactions to recent events ranging from silent apathy to outright glee all make sense once you play a Mad Libs game of filling in "Zionist" or "Israeli" in place of "Nazi" or "fascist" in every "punch Nazis!!!1!" slogan.
The fact that Jews are and have been frequently the targets of these fascist groups throughout history and were the primary targets of the Nazis is irrelevant. The fact that we are human people who just want to practice our ancient religion and culture in peace is irrelevant. The bottom line is that the far goyische left has now figured out a way to fully de-person Jews in a social justice approved way, without even the ability to point out how utterly unhinged and counterfactual that take is because "we don't debate Nazis."
I don't know how to fix this.
Genuinely, I don't.
It's like the spirits of their pogrom-loving ancestors have gripped them and instead of whispering "the Jews killed Jesus, poison wells, and thirst for the blood of children," they just substitute out Jesus for Palestine.
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funemployed-fangirl · 4 months
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Bridgerton proposals rated by level of chaos
Anthony - While courting her sister, Anthony panics when Kate is stung by a bee, proceeds to attempt to suck out the poison from her clavicle, and is caught by their mothers and Lady Featherington. Lady F says they'll have to marry and Anthony announces they'll be married next week. No proposal, Kate is never consulted. Anthony then ravishes her in the gazebo. 10/10. Complete Chaos.
Benedict - After repeatedly propositioning Sophie to be his live-in mistress, Benedict finds out she has been arrested for theft, shows up at the jail, punches the warden, and demands to know why his fiancé is being held prisoner. No proposal. Lady B almost punches Sophie's evil stepmother. 12/10. Utter Chaos.
Colin - Like a day after realizing that he finds Penelope incredibly attractive, Colin chases her through London, discovers she's Lady Whistledown, throws her in his carriage, lectures her, ravishes her, then they arrive back at her house and he hops out of the carriage and says, "well are you going to marry me or not?" Technically a proposal. 7/10. Chaos compounded by Lady F somehow thinking he's proposing to Pen's little sister.
Daphne - Daphne disrupts a duel for her honor, punches Simon in the eye, and insists he marry her because their garden makeout session was seen. Simon say he cannot have children, omitting that it's a personal choice and not a medical condition, and Daphne says good to know not a problem we're doing this. No real proposal. No one's happy with the outcome. Pistols and bickering big brothers in attendance for added chaos. 8/10
Eloise - Phillip proposes in a letter before they ever meet, failing to mention he has two children. Eloise packs a bag and leaves for his house without telling anyone. Phillip is shocked to discover her on his doorstep. The brothers are forced to ride after to her to defend her honor. Eloise doesn't understand why everyone's making such a fuss. Colin grumbles he's meant to be on his honeymoon. Beautiful Eloise-brand chaos abounds. 7/10
Francesca - Michael pines for a decade. He proposes. Franny says no. They have sex. He proposes. She says maybe. They have more sex. He nearly dies of malaria. Eventually they get married. By any other family's standards, it would be legendary chaos, but we're talking about the Bridgertons. 5/10
Gregory - HOO BOY. Gregory proposes/propositions Lucy despite her being engaged to someone else. She agrees but then is threatened by her treasonous uncle and goes through with the original marriage. Gregory interrupts the wedding. Lucy turns him down in front of the whole Ton. At the reception Gregory kidnaps her, then gets into a shootout with her uncle. Her now-husband agrees to annul the marriage. Absolute freaking chaos. No notes. 27/10
Hyacinth - Despite midnight rendezvous, breaking and entering, and a treasure hunt, Hyancinth's proposal is shockingly normal. Gareth formally asks Anthony's permission, then gets down on one knee and proposes properly. 2/10. Mildly disappointing, considering H's chaotic personality.
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theoutcastrogue · 4 months
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That said, the D&D 3.5 Paladin was bad. It was badly designed, it had bad rules, and in conjunction with the other notoriously bad rule, alignment, it could cause havoc.
Now personally, I never had ANY problems with it in my tabletop games. I played paladins and loved it, and I loved it when other people played paladins, and it was great. But that's because, collectively as a group, we took ONE look at that terrible rule where the paladin's code of conduct prevents them from associating with Evil characters or "someone who consistently offends her moral code", and immediately went, "that's stupid, we ain't doing that, it would ruin the game".
We also didn't love the concept of alignment as a cosmic force, and didn't care for Usually Evil Goblins and Always Evil anything. And when a class's signature ability fully depends on whether creatures are capital E Evil, well that affects storytelling, doesn't it? But we all saw it the same way, and we were happily able to change it without any disagreements. In the end we had a Paladin… similar to 5e now that I think of it: completely ignore the Code's association clause, tailor the Code to personal stance or a specific Order, Detect only fiends and undead and the like, Smite anything you want, Fall only if you really fuck up, and never presume that just because you haven't Fallen yet everything you've ever done is justified and correct and anyone who disagrees with you is objectively wrong.
Basically, there were 2 options in 3.5. You either houseruled and/or handwaved things, and in matters of alignment interpretations erred on the side of "what makes the game go",
OR, you played with Rules As Written, and filled the forums with questions like "should the paladin fall?" (one such thread per week, conservatively), "we got into a fight over the Paladin, what to do?", "is it Evil to pick pockets? because we have a Paladin in the party", "the Assassin uses poison, shouldn't that offend my moral code?", and shit like that. Just... pointless strife, all the time. Again, never happened to me, but I was appalled to read about it, over and over and over.
People got intense with 3.5 Paladins (both pro and against) because it was BADLY DESIGNED and had BAD RULES. Its mechanics forced narrative choices on the entire table, and the only way to make it frictionless was having a party where no one wishes to explore a character's bad side ever, no one does things that aren't bad but WotC branded Evil™ in this or that splatbook, and everyone magically agrees all the time on "what is right and what is wrong" and "what is Lawful and what is Chaotic", which is simply impossible. The most subjective thing in the world (ethics!) was presented as an objective cosmic force, and how you interpreted it would determine how much damage the Paladin deals in combat, and whether the Paladin could keep associating with the party, and if the Paladin is still a Paladin. And all that in a game, let's not forget, whose basic, fundamental premise is "kill things and take their stuff". I'm sorry, this is tremendously stupid. It's the WORST design.
I know that for some people it worked as written, and good for them, but for the many many people it didn't work, well it's obvious why.
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fingertipsmp3 · 2 years
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Bro I straight up don’t think I should take sleeping pills.. last night I saw everything but the hat man. And I didn’t even get an uninterrupted sleep
#was thinking about taking one tonight but like…… no#last night i took one at 10pm thinking it’d take a long time to set in. i was wrong. 10:20 i had to put my book down and close my eyes#couldn’t get comfy though because it’s too hot and i don’t like my new pillows. so at 11 i’m lying there groggy#AND MY FUCKING BEDROOM WALL SMILES AT ME AND STARTS LEAKING#i realised it was a hallucination thankfully because i have them pretty frequently even if i don’t take medicines#but it lasted for like a full minute and freaked me out pretty bad#then i needed to piss so i got up and then when i went back to bed i passed out until 5 (good)#but had to get up to piss again and i nearly fell asleep on the loo (bad)#and then i passed out again until 8:30 and woke up STILL GROGGY. for what#9 hours’ sleep give or take and nytol is really still hanging out like ‘it’s not enough’#what the fuck do you want from me#anyway so i think i’m going to try the herbal version. it kind of sucks because i do need the antihistamine effect of the blue ones#but i’m way too prone to hallucinations and apparently sleeping pills are the only thing that gives me hangovers#i nearly died from k******* once and i’ve had alcohol poisoning from whiskey & felt fine in the morning but sure.#dyphenhydramine is going to give me a hangover. fantastic. why not#anyway tl;dr if anyone has any advice for dealing with allergies that doesn’t involve potentially coming face-to-face#with the hat man at 3am; i am all ears. i already take my morning antihistamine (random generic brand)#but other than that i just sort of suffer. i’m one bad night away from steaming my face again honestly#personal
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zigraves · 1 year
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Liking a post says you liked it, or maybe it’s a personal post by a friend and you want to just quietly acknowledge it to them. Maybe you can find it again later in your likes if you want to share it. It’s NOT mandatory.
Reblogging is sharing it with everyone who happens across your blog. Reblogging is a good thing to do for sharing and promoting things you want to share and promote, or things you like enough to keep on your blog for other people to happen across as well. It’s NOT mandatory. 
The OTT extreme language I’m seeing used to try and guilt-trip people into constant reblogging isn’t healthy. It’s what happens when you’ve had your brain poisoned by the commodification of hobbies and start treating everyone who’s not actively promoting your brand as some kind of enemy. Nobody who sees something in passing and finds it mildly interesting or generally appealing or whatever is obligated by blood-debt to then also recommend it to all their friends and promote it to everyone who happens by. It’s not an act of violence to not reblog. Stop calling people murderers when this is just about posting on our stupid little blogging platform.
You can reblog this if you want. Or not. It’s fine. It’s your blog. It’s your internet experience. You can curate it how you want to. You should curate it how you want to.
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rainba · 18 days
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Guilt and Jealousy ღ
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eee.. Sorry, this is messy.. I randomly wanted to write another fic. ^^;;;;;; Not really proofread..
Basically: Ace suddenly discovers that you're dating someone else without telling him, and he can't stand the idea of that. Can't think straight.
CWs: Noncon, possessive/toxic behaviors, mentions of blood and biting
MDNI. 18+
Reader is GN!
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Jealousy is a poison that can destroy anyone infected by it. The heat of a moment can makes a person’s mind melt or burn to ashes. A love too intense can make almost any person betray their morals.
Ace never wanted to hurt you.
Ace never wanted to make you cry.
But you were a flame, and he was an explosive. You lingered too close to the fuse that’s tied to him, and now you have to bear witness to the side of him he never wanted you to see.
Ace couldn’t understand how things ended up this way. Mere hours ago, you were jumping in the crowd, smiling for him, cheering him on and smiling so warmly. Mere hours ago, you were drinking and laughing and proudly wearing merchandise with his band’s logo printed on the front. But now…
Now…
“Please, let me go! I– I’m sorry!”
“Please, d-don’t hurt me! Ace, please!”
Your brand-new shirt was cast aside and ripped to shreds.
Your bright smile was replaced by a look of sheer terror paired with an onslaught of tears. What had you done to drag Ace down to this level…?
You kissed another man in front of him.
Remembering the way you kissed that other man made Ace’s mind spiral into a dark, frenzied mess. You and that other person– you and that purple-eyed freak in the crowd… Since when were the two of you dating? 
Why didn’t Ace know beforehand? 
How could you betray him like this…? Ace thought that you loved him. You always told him that you loved him.
How could you?
How could you hurt him like this?
You must’ve kept your relationship a secret from Ace. You must’ve kept it extremely well-hidden. But… Why?
Why?
“I- I’m sorry…!”
Ace could apologize all he wants, but he couldn’t make his body stop. His shaking hands were desperately tearing away at what little clothing you still had on. His watering eyes refused to stray away from yours. 
God, he felt guilty, but he was completely devoid of self-control.
The only way to get him to stop was for you to make him.
…But you couldn’t.
Ace apologized once more as his jaw opened wide, revealing his dangerous fangs. The sharp ends were pointed directly at your skin, ready to sink themselves into your flesh at any second. All you could do was brace for impact.
And right before he bit down, he softly mumbled the words, “I love you.”
By sinking his fangs deep into your shoulder, escape was no longer an option.
Everything was happening fast- way too fast. Ace refused to remove his teeth as he began to undo his pants, removing the pins from the heavy fabric as he also pushed down his boxers. His cock was already hard; precum leaking from the tip.
Images of you and that other man kept racing through Ace’s mind. You looked so happy… You looked so in love…
It should’ve been him.
Ace wishes it was him.
If you had just loved Ace from the start, none of this would’ve happened.
With his fangs still buried deep inside of your shoulder, Ace pried open your legs, trying his best to ignore the way you scream and beg for him to stop.
Ace needs this. 
He needs you more than anything.
His mind races: if he claims you here and now, there’s no chance of you leaving him for someone else. If he fucks you senseless and possesses you fully, you’ll never wish to leave his side. You’ll be his forever.
Does it make sense? No, not in the slightest. Is Ace aware that all he’s doing is traumatizing you and permanently ruining his relationship with you? Absolutely. But the irrational, animalistic side of his mind is taking control, and he can’t stop himself from giving in to his disgusting, depraved desires. 
He can’t let anyone else have you.
Ace positions his cock at your entrance, rubbing his tip against it lightly. His breathing is incredibly heavy; he’s partially afraid that he’ll cum within the first few pumps.
“N-no, please, don’t… Ace, you’re better than this! Don’t do this!”
Your words pierce him directly in his aching heart, and for a second, he considers listening to your pleas.
But it’s too late now. He’s gone too far.
With guilt written all over his face, he looks up at you with tears in his blue eyes. He can’t stand to hear your begging anymore– so he lifts his left hand and presses it firmly against your mouth. Silencing you.
And with nothing more left to lose, he thrusts himself deep inside of you, your walls instantly tightening around his length. Ace sweetly moans as his fangs sink deeper into you.
Ace tries to fuck you slowly at first, wanting things to be more ‘sensual’, but he quickly loses self-control in that aspect as well. His hips begin to move fast and erratically, sweat trickling down his pale skin as he pushes himself as deep inside of you as possible.
Inside of his messy mind, there's a part of him that feels warm and happy- excited at how he has finally become 'one' with you.
He moans and whimpers embarrassingly loud- his right hand grips one of your thighs and pries your legs open wider. He enjoys this for a while, but the position quickly becomes old- Ace is desperate to fuck you in so many ways.
Without a warning, he suddenly retracts his fangs from your shoulder, pain surging throughout your entire body as he laps up the blood that drips from your wound.
It tastes… Strange in his mouth. Your blood doesn’t taste like anything else he’s tried before. But your blood isn’t what he’s after– no, what he wants is your soft lips.
Ace removes his left hand from your face, but before you can utter even a single word, he forces his lips onto yours. You taste your own blood against your will as he shoves his tongue deep inside your mouth.
It’s strange- Ace seems so giddy as he explores your mouth. Every inch, every crevice- he goes over it with his tongue. His strong hands move down to your legs as he moves them as far up as he possibly can, firmly sandwiching you between himself and the surface beneath you. He fucks you even faster, thrusts his cock even deeper, and whimpers your name relentlessly.
It feels... Wrong being used by Ace like this. You can't help but feel dirty.
Yes- you cared for him deeply- but you're in love with someone else now.
Hell, you never thought it was even possible for Ace to be in love with you… He always seemed so busy with his band, seemed so busy living out his dreams…
You had a crush on him a long time ago, you used to always say that you love him, but all of those feelings had been cast aside.
And now, here you are… Being fucked by him against your will.
It made you want to scream. It made you want to cry. The feelings inside of your heart are conflicting– and this stinging pain is like nothing else you’ve experienced before.
Bitter tears keep streaming down your cheeks, but Ace doesn’t seem to notice them.
Deep down, there’s a small part of him that believes you secretly want this. A small part of him that believes you wanted him to chase you and forcefully claim you like this.
...Perhaps it’s his mind trying to cope with the fact that what he’s doing is morally reprehensible.
Ace loathes the idea of being a bad person.
He thrusts his cock deeper into you as he chases his high. He’s close- so close- and his body is begging for a release. Ace makes sure to grind against your most sensitive spots; he’s determined to make you cum as well.
His cock twitches as your walls tighten around him, involuntarily drawing him closer to his peak. Ace wrap his arms around your body as he pulls you into a warm embrace, hugging you gently as fucks you needily.
His breath hitches. He gasps loudly.
“C-cum… Cumming… I’m- I’m so- I’m sorry!”
It’s far too late to go back now. When he has you trapped in the cage of his arms like this, the only thing he can do is cum deep inside of you, his eyes rolling into the back of his head while he pushes you down onto his cock. It feels so good- it's heaven on earth.
His orgasm hits like a white-hot explosion.
And as he relishes in his high, he lowers his hand and rubs your most sensitive areas, forcing you to climax as well.
Ace’s breathing is heavy. His head lowers in both shame and remorse.
But when he looks down, he can’t help but admire the way his cum is spilling out of you. He regrets everything that has happened on this night- he regrets ever hurting you in any way, shape or form. He'll have to beg for forgiveness. But at the same time…
He can’t help but feel like he didn’t have a choice.
Now you’re his. You belong to him.
And that makes him happy.
If that other man dares to come near you again, Ace might do another thing that he’ll sincerely regret.
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ashbeneviento · 21 days
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Hello, Evil Residents :)
I’d like to introduce you all to my Village OC (who was amazingly brought to visual light by my good friend @crowquillustrate on insta🖤)
OC: Datura
Named after the sacred Datura flower (Hallucinogenic and possibly deadly if ingested improperly)
Age: 27/Immortal
Physical Characteristics: 5’3, Pale skin, Long wavy brown hair, Hazel Eyes. Has a scar that travels under her eye down to her neck from a Lycan Attack.
Background: Datura grew up on a farm just outside the Village with her parents and little brother Sebastian. When she was 18 a pack of rogue Lycans destroyed her home, killing her mother and brother first. Datura was attacked but her father sacrificed himself to save her, leaving her to fend for herself.
Mother Miranda took her in for a few years before sending her over to work for Donna.
Personality: Datura is hard headed but kind hearted. She immediately bonded with Angie, who reminds her of her little brother. It takes her a while to get used to Donna though, who always seemed to hide herself away from her. Datura CAN be cruel, especially when she feels disrespected. Does she go a little overboard sometimes? Yes, yes she does.
Hobbies: Datura likes taking walks at night, despite Donna’s wishes. (She’s worried for her safety) She’s a painter, a violinist, sometimes she likes playing the piano as well but she would rather listen to Donna play instead. She picked up on scientific hobbies from her stay with Mother Miranda, and likes to experiment with tea making/making medicine for the Village folk. Hunting.
Sexuality: Datura is sapphic but doesn’t really have a preference other than Donna. Would consider her grey ace. Likes to explore new things in the bedroom but would rather spend her time watching vintage romance movies and cuddling up to her love.
Relationships: Partner, Donna obviously.
She likes spending the night at Alcina’s and has a soft spot for Cassandra. She loves hunting so she brings the Dimitrescus the finest of her catches.
Karl reminds her of her father but hates visiting his factory (bc of the Lycans) but she learns to love them eventually.
Sal loves when she visits the reservoir. She made him a special tea that stops him from throwing up and built him a brand new boat for him to go fishing in. He calls her Deetee.
Mother Miranda also has a soft spot for her (though she tries to deny it every chance she gets) Miranda didn’t give Datura the cadou because she wanted to use her as a vessel, instead she felt sorry for her and actually asked Datura for permission. She’s the reason Miranda has came to terms with Eva’s death and has learned to appreciate the four Lords as they are. She’s getting there, don’t worry.
Other: Datura is noturnal. She doesn’t need to sleep as much so she can be awake for days on end, but most active at night. Where Donna can control the pollen to cause hallucinations, Datura does so through her eyes. Sometimes when she dreams those dreams happen in real life. Prophetic. Her bite is poisonous and causes the victim to calcify, though she’s only had to use that power once. It does not work on those affected by the cadou, so Donna is immune.
She can teleport but isn’t very good at it.
(Once she tried to teleport into the village and she ended up scaring the mold out of Miranda who was in the middle of making coffee, ouch)
I plan on posting fanfic drabbles on here once I get the chance! I’d love to talk about Datura more and meet your Res8 OC’s as well, it’s good to be back in the Village 😉
Please do not share this art without proper credit to the artist, you may not use my OC as your own.
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muchosbesitos · 2 months
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i’d love like a scenario about his infinity or something like that where he never lets anyone touch him even the reader but there’s like a moment where he does or something? could be an established relationship or not idrc. and you can make it smutty or not it’s up to youuu.
- 🫶🏼🫶🏼
within infinities
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pairing: gojo satoru x fem reader
contents: angst, brief mention of self harm from satoru, alc consumption, fingering, some nipple play, use of lube, unprotected sex (wrap it 🤨🫵🏼), and aftercare (sorry if i missed anything)
synopsis: after suguru left satoru behind, he was left to try to rebuild what was left. he shut himself down, blocking out the world as an attempt to keep himself from getting hurt. after trying out several methods to cope with the pain inside of him, he learned that it wasn’t what he needed.
author’s note: thank you for the request, anon! hopefully you enjoy <3
word count: 7k
Gojo Satoru was the strongest sorcerer alive.
And yet, an overwhelming sensation of weakness filled his body like a cruel poison. Slowly clawing away at him and his body until there was nothing left but a simple hollow shell of what he used to be. Nothing left but just the memories of a time where he used to actually be happy. Of a time where he wasn't depending on memories to keep him going throughout the day.
He thought he noticed everything, small details that nobody else would've thought to pay attention to. The cigarette brands that Shoko consistently pilfered through to find the one with the strongest nicotine output. A different colored ribbon that Utahime put in her hair on a random Tuesday morning.
The one thing he'd been so oblivious to was the suffering that Suguru had been going through. The one thing that should've been clear to him since the start. The immense amount of blame that Satoru placed upon himself would've been too much for a regular person to handle, but he'd convinced himself that he deserved to feel like this. Convinced himself that it was only right for him to feel a fraction of the pain that Suguru must've been going through.
Satoru tortured himself mentally for days on end, thinking about what could've been different if he hadn't been so consumed with his own problems. If he would've been enough reason for Suguru to stay. Though, he liked to imagine that maybe things would've been different if he had begged, other times he wasn't too sure. But it all stems down to the same thing, if only he had noticed. If only he'd tried harder. If only. If.
Gojo attempted to put up a front, to pretend like nothing bothered him with the stupid jokes that he shared and the smiles that hurt his cheeks from how unnatural they are. Yet after a while, little cracks started to show in his otherwise perfect image. Black rings circled below his eyes, almost an unnatural look on his pale skin. Tiny crescent marks formed on his palms from how deep he dug his nails in.
He grew accustomed to hearing "Are you okay?" directed towards him, growing even more accustomed to saying yes and giving them a polite smile so he'd be left alone. Even with Shoko, he'd grown used to lying through his teeth to her. He could see the suspicion lying within her expression, but it wasn't addressed. Much like how her own pain regarding the situation wasn't addressed.
The group of four broke down as Satoru’s absence continued, the only ones left being you and shoko. He hadn't meant to push the two of you away, but a part of him couldn't fathom that the two of you could be capable of hurting the same way he was. He and Suguru were connected in a way that he'd never managed to achieve with anyone, a way that made him forget he was the strongest sorcerer for a moment.
You knocked on Professor Yaga’s door after getting called down here, listening for a 'come in' before stepping into the office. If that was even an appropriate name for the space that Yaga had. The walls almost seemed to close in as you walked inside, approaching him slowly.
Yaga was in the middle of sewing one of his dolls, barely giving you a glance as he finished up with the stitch that he had to make. "You called for me?" You asked him after a couple seconds of uncomfortable silence. You felt yourself shrink when he looked up from the task, his face completely void from emotion.
"I need you to check up on Gojo. His behavior recently has been concerning, to say the least," he put down the wool he had in hand, a stern look on his face. "I know that he's going through it, but we need him. He's been disregarding his missions and frankly, we don't really have enough resources to replace him with. Just try, please," you nodded along to what Yaga was saying, departing from his office shortly thereafter.
You stopped by town, looking through a couple shops to find some snacks that maybe Gojo would enjoy. It was a fairly simple task, he tended to enjoy any snack as long as it satiated his sweet tooth. You picked up a slice of strawberry cake and grabbed a couple pieces of kikufuku. After contemplating in front of the candy aisle, you decided to throw a bag in your basket just for safe measure. You doubted he'd pay attention to you for more than two minutes if you didn't take these.
"Hey, do you wanna come over with me over to Gojo's?" You asked Shoko after finding her in the courtyard, cigarette dangling in between her pointer and middle finger. She exhaled the smoke in her mouth, hesitating for a couple seconds. "I don't know if he wants to see me right now," she responded, glancing over at the snacks you had in a woven basket. You hadn't considered what you'd do if Gojo decided to turn you away, the thought only coming to the forefront of your mind now. "Good luck with that though."
You waved over at her, leaving to go to Gojo's dorm. The clan had arranged for his to be separate from the student body, another method of protection for the heir. Well, if he kicked you out, you'd just leave the snacks and try again, later? After all, that's really all Yaga had asked you to do. Try. You knocked on the door and waited for a couple seconds for some kind of movement. No answer. You decided to test your luck, jiggling the doorknob. The door swung open, an almost rancid smell hitting your nostrils immediately.
A couple of soda cans were thrown on the floor without any regards to where they landed and boxes of takeout littered the entrance to his dorm. You took your shoes off, setting them in a somewhat clean corner. You made a little maze to move across his dorm without making a noise, having to stretch your legs at an unnatural angle to get through. After maneuvering your way through the living room, you got to his bedroom door. You hesitated as you stood in front of it, bringing your hand up to knock. Before you got the chance to do so, you heard a loud creak from behind the room.
The door swung open like a scene from a horror movie, dust bunnies flying off the TV table when the wind blew inside. The room was on the borderline of being pitch black, some shadows appearing on the floor from the dim sunlight coming through the thick curtain. You squinted as you tried to make your way through the room, letting out a small grunt when your knee hit the corner of a desk. You rubbed your hand against the sting, walking over to the king sized bed situated in the middle of the room.
You reached out to touch him, but despite your best effort, you couldn't bring yourself to actually touch him. You were so close to him, yet he was so out of reach. The ray of light that did manage to peek through the curtains he'd pulled back accentuated how red his cheeks were, dried tear streaks on a otherwise perfect face. His face was contorted into an expression of pain, his brows furrowed while his breathing started to pick up.
"Please don't go," his ragged whispers came out, his body shaking under the thick blanket he wrapped himself in. Since you couldn't actually touch him, you decided to try out the next best thing. "Gojo, wake up. You're having a nightmare," you whispered, standing as close as you could. His eyes shot open, his breathing slowly starting to slow down as he gained consciousness of his surroundings.
"Sorry about that," he muttered, running a hand through his messy hair as he sat up. The blanket pooled by his body, unraveling his body. While Gojo had always been somewhat on the lanky side, you couldn't help but notice just how skinny he's gotten throughout these past couple weeks. Now you wished you'd brought him a meal instead of a bunch of candies. "No, you're good. The door was open and I just decided to come in, I hope you don't mind."
"Uh no, I don't mind. Just excuse the mess, haven't gotten around to cleaning it up," he told you, giving you another one of those forced smiles that you'd grown accustomed to seeing by now. You nodded, standing by his door awkwardly before attempting to offer some kind of reassurance of your own. "If there's something that I can do for you, don't hesitate to let me know."
"Actually there is something that you could do. Do you want to have sex with me?" the question caught you off guard, having expected something completely different. He'd gone from having his infinity on at all times to wanting some form of intimacy? Even through his request, you could see the hesitation lingering behind his eyes. He was forcing himself to pretend like he wanted this. "No, I don't want to."
If you were in a different situation, you might've let out a laugh at the way his jaw comedically dropped open. It was a word he wasn't used to hearing, much less from someone he was trying to get with. Half the time he didn't need to make the effort, they just said yes to whatever he suggested whenever they got a smidge of attention. "Are you not into me or something? I could've sworn i caught you staring a couple times."
Now it was your turn to have your jaw open. Well, metaphorically speaking of course. You thought you'd been discreet with the stares towards him while he was training, though you couldn't deny that maybe you looked for a couple seconds too long. You cleared your throat, pretending like he hadn't exposed the feelings you had towards him with just a single sentence. And yes, while you did want to fuck him, you didn't want it to be under these circumstances.
"I just don't think fucking me is what you need right now," you hesitated to answer, the tension between the two of you so thick that it could be broken with a knife.
"Please. I just need something to help me forget," he sounded so pitiful when he was on the brink of begging. You weren't even sure when was the last time he bothered to take a shower, his clothes being the same ones you'd seen him with a week ago. He wasn't in the right state of mind to even function properly, much less have sex.
"It's not gonna help. If anything, you're just gonna end up regretting it later."
"Please."
You remained firm in the position that you were in, holding up the basket of snacks. "I can stay with you for a while if you want, but I don't want to have sex with you while you're like this," you responded, handing over the basket once he let the suggestion go. He took the basket, grabbing the kikufaku immediately. "I thought friends were supposed to help each other out."
You wanted to argue back to him, but you decided to keep quiet. You'd excuse his behavior with the fact that he was in pain right now. Despite all that, he let you stay in his dorm for a couple more hours. The two of you sat at a distance, an invisible barrier set between the two of you. Gojo settled on a horror movie, a series he'd been talking about nonstop throughout most of the year. Even if most of the gore was unrealistic and you could see the jumpscares coming from miles away, it still felt like somewhat nice being so close to him.
Much to everyone's surprise, Gojo had managed to make it up to graduation without missing another day. You could tell too clearly that the smile he had plastered on his face for every class picture that he took was a facade, something to play off for the fact that his heart was in shambles at the absence of his best friend. He accepted every congratulations with a thank you, the words seeming to slip out with much more ease the more that he said them.
If anyone else could notice that look on his face, there was nothing said to acknowledge that fact. Mostly because a majority of the student body was facing some kind of internal issues of their own, whether it be Haibara’s death or the shock of what Geto had done. Even then, words couldn't make up for the absence that Suguru had left within him. An 'I'm sorry' wouldn't do anything towards the fact that he was still gone. Even with all the extra work he'd done to make sure he graduated on time, the fact remained. Suguru wouldn't be coming back.
Gojo could remember the conversation he had with Suguru months prior to the accident, the two of them color coordinating what their suits would be. What apartment they would get together, somewhere that was near a sweets shop. All he had left was the apartment lease in his hands, the paper straining underneath his tight grasp. While some people were eagerly sharing what their plans were for that summer, he was left staring from a distance until eventually, the ceremony came to an end. He was starting to feel a midlife crisis peeking through at just 18, of having no actual sense of direction in his life.
Frankly, Satoru wasn't a big fan of alcohol. he found that he hated the way it made him feel, from the way he felt while he was drunk to the way that he felt the next morning. It made him feel out of control, out of his own body. But, that's exactly what he found himself needing now. The first sip of sake made his throat constrict, his first instinct to throw it up. But he swallowed it down, determined to go through with this. None of the euphoria that he'd heard came with alcohol ever came for him.
The next morning, he woke up with vomit splattered all over himself and the sides of the toilet. His head pounded from the sheer amount of alcohol he'd consumed, his eyes rimmed red. "Ah fuck," he muttered, his voice coming out strained from the effort he'd put into throwing up earlier. He got up from the bathroom floor, deciding to take a shower and clean himself up. His head hung low as he stood underneath the boiling water, a reminder to himself that he was still human. That he could still feel things.
He got out of the shower after spending an ungodly amount of water, wrapping a fluffy white towel around his waist. He grabbed his phone from the pants he used last night, letting out a small groan as he saw that it was on 2%. Of course he'd forgotten to charge it last night with all the stupid shit he'd done. He looked down to see that he had a voicemail from you, barely sent half an hour ago. He clicked on it, your voice filling up the four walls of his bathroom.
"Hey Gojo, I was calling to say goodbye but you didn't answer. Uh, I'm not sure if it means a lot to you but congrats on graduating!" He could tell the little strain you put on your voice to attempt to sound somewhat cheerful but he appreciated it nonetheless.
"And since were probably not gonna see each other again, I guess I should probably admit that you had a point when you mentioned those 'longing stares.' I did have a crush on you, so I hope that doesn't make you too uncomfortable," his heart dropped down to his feet as he listened to the rest of the message, a boarding announcement.
Now he was really starting to regret the way that he acted. he had somewhat of a feeling that you had a crush on him, making you the perfect person to propose the idea of having sex to. That and the fact that he found your company to be quite nice. The day that you'd last been over to his place, the two of you had sat in silence throughout the duration of the film playing on his TV. And it wasn't uncomfortable. Sure, the fact that he'd gotten rejected had lingered in the air but he still enjoyed having your presence around.
He restarted the message over and over again until his phone died. He'd thought about different apologies that he wanted to type out while his phone was charging but every time that he got close to pressing the 'send' button, he just never did. Too corny. Too short. Too long. Too sentimental. There was an excuse for every draft that he typed out, none of them really accentuating what he wanted to tell you. He ended up deleting the drafts, setting his phone down as he buried his head in his knees.
As much as you tried to convince yourself otherwise, you never truly felt like you belonged with the students at the Tokyo campus. Despite the fact that you'd been in the group with the trio, it never felt quite right. It felt as if Gojo and Geto were connected in a way that you and Shoko would never be able to compare to. The thought of leaving hadn't cemented into your head until you looked down at your certificate, imagining what future was left for you here. Of fighting curses with no sort of attachment for other people out of fear that they might die?
A part of you had been wishing that Satoru didn't pick up the phone after having a conversation with Shoko, yet you couldn't help but feel disappointed the second you were told to leave your voicemail. You were prolonging getting on the airplane, waiting for some kind of indication that you shouldn't go. But there was nothing holding you back. nothing to tie you down to Tokyo other than the memories you had in this place. With that, you grabbed your carry on bag and prepared to get on the plane once your group was called.
Unfortunately, Satoru had found out the hard way that you were right to reject his advances. He tried to force himself to sleep with different women to try to forget, to have something more to think about other than Suguru. And yet, he could never actually bring himself to actually go through with any of them. The flirting had brought him temporary relief, only for old memories to hit him ten times harder when he was alone. If anything, it'd made him feel even worse for attempting to use someone for his own gain.
Once he got to raise Megumi, however, he had less time to think about what he was going through and rather how to keep the tiny human alive. Satoru didn't think that it would be that hard, all he had to focus on was keeping him alive and fed. The kid had matured way faster than he really should've, uninterested in most of the things that other children were doing at his age. While the kids at the playground were busy playing hopscotch or tag, Megumi was in the corner with his head buried in a book.
It'd barely been a year since you left when Yaga’s name flashed on your screen. You were barely getting home from the store, setting your bags down before pulling your phone from your pocket. "Professor Yaga," you answered, using the title out of courtesy. "Just Yaga’s fine. Look, I was wondering how long you planned on being on this little sabbatical," he got straight to the point as he spoke, a couple voices coming from behind him. None that you recognized.
"Well, I wasn't planning on coming back to Tokyo if that's what you're asking," you responded once the noise behind him died down, a sharp exhale coming out from the other end. "Look, I wouldn't be asking if I didn't need you. Nanami went off to the world of business and whatnot, there's a dire need for professors," he spoke up, leaving no room for discussion. As much as you would've liked to stay, you decided to accept the job 'invitation.'
There weren't many things that you had left to pack up, just your clothes and your shoes. Despite how hard you tried to make this new place your 'home,' you found some type of excuse to put off unpacking your stuff completely. Whether it was that you were busy with work or that you had to do groceries. Or maybe because you were looking for an excuse such as this one, an excuse to prevent you from actually having to settle down. It no longer seemed like it was the place, but rather you.
Maybe you didn't belong anywhere.
"You have a child," your eyes widen in surprise upon seeing the kid Gojo had clinging onto his side, having caught him while you were out in the market. "I have a child," he repeated, holding the kid's hand within his own. The kid resisted at first before letting himself be held, looking up at you with an unamused expression on his face. "Megumi," the kid told you, extending his hand out. The two of you exchanged pleasantries, a short exchange of your names and a 'nice to meet you.'
"I'm dropping him off at a friend's place tonight if you want to come over and have dinner," Gojo suggested once the two of you met up at the entrance of the market. You wanted to do everything in your power to not have to be alone with him after what you'd told him during your last call, but you decided to agree. After Megumi was dropped off, the two of you drove back to his place in silence. Every time you wanted to bring something up, you decided to just leave the topic alone and continue to stare out the window.
"I wanted to apologize to you. I never found the right words to tell you, but I'm sorry. I'm sorry for trying to use you for my personal gain," the words practically flooded out of him as soon as the two of you got back home, his hands struggling to keep up with the pace he was talking in. "You don't have to apologize," you assured him, going to bring one hand over to his shoulder. Unlike the last time you tried to comfort him, you were able to touch him this time around.
"And I know you only admitted those things to me since you thought you'd never see me again but I have to tell you that you haven't left my mind since the day I lost you," he spoke slower this time around, the words lingering in the air for a few seconds after he'd finished speaking. You were speechless, your mouth opening and closing back up like a fish. "Oh," you managed to finally say, the apartment seeming to close in on you as a silence settled in.
When you'd told him that a year ago, you were convinced that he hadn't felt the same way. That you were being delusional. You knew how unavailable he was, whether it be from his job keeping him too busy or the fact that he was so different from everyone else. Now that he told you this.. you actually weren't sure what to do with this information. As much as you tried to convince yourself that you left the crush behind in Tokyo, you still found yourself thinking about him when you were alone.
His brows furrowed, immediately making you regret not having any more to say to him. "Sorry, it's just I wasn't really expecting that," you tried to quickly fix the situation, a small sigh of relief escaping from his lips. "I wanted to thank you, actually. You were right in rejecting me when you did, it wouldn't have been a pleasurable experience for the both of us," he finished up, walking closer to you. his voice dropped to a low whisper as he spoke, "But what if I said I wanted to have sex with you now?"
"Then I guess there'd be no logical reason for me to say no."
The notion of dinner was quickly forgotten. His lips were on top of yours as soon as the words escaped from your mouth, kissing you like a man depraved. He did nothing to hide the desperation radiating off his body, not that there was much he could've done. Your hands went up to his hair, tugging at the white strands as you tried to bring him impossibly closer to yourself. The kiss itself was more of a clash of tongue and teeth, but it did its job in showing the amount of need the two of you had towards each other.
He tapped on your thigh to jump, your legs wrapping around his waist with ease. He hadn't bothered to stop kissing you as he led the two of you over to his bedroom, only stopping to reach over for the doorknob. "You’ll find its more organized this time around," he spoke up, gently setting you down in silk sheets. "I'd hope so after a year," you responded, laying down with your legs dangling off the edge of the bed. He started off taking your pants, tossing them off to the side once he managed to get them off.
Satoru’s fingertips ghosted up your legs, applying only the lightest of touches. It was almost like he was committing the sight of your body to memory, of all the little scars and moles on your legs. Your slick was starting to run down to your panties, creating a wet spot right in the center. He hooked his fingers in the flimsy material of your underwear, slowly starting to slide it down.
"How do you feel about socks during sex?" The question caught you off guard, a laugh threatening to overcome your lips at how serious the question sounded. You looked down at the end of the bed where Satoru was situated, noticing that his glasses were long discarded.
"You're actually being serious?"
"Well yeah. It's a controversial topic, y'know?"
"Do what feels natural to you. You have my full consent to take my socks off if you want."
"What an answer," he muttered, sliding the black socks you had on before letting them fall on the floor. It was at that moment that you felt just how intense his stare was, seeing him completely mesmerized by finally having you in his bed.
You wanted to shut your legs upon feeling how intense his gaze was but his large fingers kept them apart. "Keep them spread for me, pretty," his voice sounded different from normal, he almost sounded desperate? His dominance over the situation was hanging on by a thread, the need to have you overtaking that desire. You felt somewhat awkward at being so exposed, but you kept your legs open for him.
Despite the attraction that women presented towards him, he never quite entertained it up to this point. A couple meaningless flirts, a few whispers of sweet nothings, Of promises that he would never imagine going through with. But this? He was completely sure that he wanted nothing more but to worship your body the way that it deserved. The way that he'd been dreaming about since he found out you shared the same feelings he did towards you.
He was going off what he viewed as something natural, from what he'd heard from other people. He leaned down, pressing his lips on your ankles as he left an open mouth kiss on it. His other hand raked up and down your left leg while his mouth explored every inch that your right leg had to offer. Based on the way that your breathing was steadily starting to pick up the more he moved up, he was guessing he was doing a pretty alright job at this.
You let out a small gasp at feeling his finger sink inside of you, his large fingers filling you up with ease. He pulled them out, dragging out the action before revealing his fingers completely coated in your slick. He swirled his tongue around his fingers, almost like he wanted to savor the taste of you. And in a way, he did. Every piece of candy that he'd eaten paled to compare to how sweet your essence was.
"Would've tried harder last time if I knew you tasted that good," he told you, his fingers finding their way to your cunt again. "What makes you so sure I would've relented?" You challenged, the last bit of defiance dying out as you felt his pointer finger find your clit with ease. You were sure that if he pressed his finger on it, he'd be able to feel just how much it throbbed for some kind of attention. You bit down on your lip, unwilling to give him that satisfaction of knowing how much he affected you.
"Given how wet you are now, it wouldn't have been that much of a challenge," he responded with a cocky grin, letting out a small chuckle at the way you rolled your eyes. He slid his pointer finger, curling it to find your g-spot. "Got it," he whispered, noticing the way your eyes rolled to the back of your head. Your slick coated his fingers every time that he pushed his fingers inside of you, your walls clenching at the motion.
He brought his mouth down to your breasts, watching them harden at just the slightest breeze flowing through his apartment. He took the left one in his mouth, your hand immediately coming down to his hair. Your grip on the white strands tightened as you felt his tongue roll around your hardened nipple, your legs instinctively shutting around his hand. He didn't stop fingering you, opening your legs with his other hand.
You were approaching your orgasm rapidly, the knot inside of your stomach starting to tighten. Moans escaped from your mouth in a slew of curses or small whimpers of his name. All which sounded like the most angelic music to his ears. "There we go, I got you," he whispered, looking up at you as he tugged on your nipple with his teeth. You started to move away from him as you felt yourself on the brink of your orgasm, though the grip that he had on your hip made it impossible to do so.
The knot inside of you snapped with a thrust of his fingers, your cunt soaking his fingers with your release. He pulled them out, the juices making his fingers glisten underneath the moonlight. He brought them over to his mouth once more, savoring the way that you tasted. Maybe one day he'd get to have a proper taste of you. But for now, all that he wanted was to feel the way your walls clenched around his cock. He leaned in, your lips parting as he kissed you. all so you could taste yourself.
His lips went down to your jawline, planting a couple open mouthed kisses before he moved down to your neck and collarbone. While his touch was nothing short of delightful, you were starting to grow needy. You bucked your hips against him to try to get some kind of friction, your attempts dismissed with a chuckle. "Please," you spoke up, his lips pressed against your stomach. You wanted some kind of mercy, some kind of relief.
He didn't seem to do that, though. Satoru continued to ignore your pleas, his fingers barely moving along your thighs as he resumed with kissing your body. He almost seemed like he basked in making you into a desperate mess for him, on the borderline of begging him to do something. "Touch me," you whispered, trying to move your hips to meet his fingers. One of his hands went over to your hip, holding you down. "I'm sure you can ask better than that, no?"
Damn him. Damn the way that he looked at you while he said that, pale blue eyes almost shining underneath the moonlight. He looked at you with fascination, curious to see what it is that made your body tick and what made you lose your composure. And damn yourself for not being able to resist. To be fair, you don't know how anyone could possibly resist him in this situation.
"..Please touch me," you muttered, unable to speak louder if you even tried. His finger prodded at your entrance, only sticking the tip before retracting it once more. You felt yourself clench around nothing, your desperation growing tenfold. "I can't hear you properly. Come on and speak louder for me, princess."
You wanted to slap the stupid smirk off his face, but the rational part of you knew that the longer you dragged this out, the longer it'd take for you to receive some kind of relief. "Please touch me," you spoke a bit louder this time, the words hitting his ears with ease this time around. Despite the fact, he stayed in the same position he was in. "I thought I was touching you already. Be more specific."
You let out an exasperated huff, looking over at him to realize he was being serious. His fingers applied featherlight touches onto your inner thighs thighs, barely moving towards your wet cunt before abruptly pulling them away. "Please fuck me," you relented after a couple seconds of internal debate, his fingers pulling away from your thighs. You were about to open your mouth to complain from the loss of contact until you realized what he was doing.
Satoru did quick work of removing his pants and boxers, his cock hitting his stomach once it was released from its confines. As weird as it was to admit it, he had a pretty dick. White tufts of hairs leading from his abdomen to his pelvis were trimmed down to a manageable length, his happy trail looking all too inviting. Pre cum leaked from his reddened bulbous tip, leaking down his shaft and some onto the floor.
"There's some lube and condoms in the first cabinet if you could get those for me," he spoke up, pointing with his lips over to the night stand next to you. You handed him over the bottle of lube, feeling the cold liquid running down your folds a few seconds later. A small shiver went down your spine, your cunt clenching around pure air in anticipation. "We don't have to use a condom if you don't want to," you spoke up, watching as he lathered lube onto his shaft.
"You sure?"
You nodded before answering his question, “I'm on birth control and i'm clean." he set the condom off to the side, his hands coming onto your legs. He brought you closer to himself, aligning his cock with your entrance. Despite the fact that he'd worked you open with his fingers and there was an extra level of lubrication involved, you couldn't help but feel nervous once the size of his cock registered in your head. How was he going to fit?
Almost as if he could sense the worry emanating off you, he gently rubbed your thighs. "I’ll take it slow, don't worry," he assured you, slowly pushing the tip in. His head lolled back at the sensation of your walls fluttering around the tip, a small groan escaping from his lips. The sheets rustled underneath your fingers, your grip on them tightening with every inch that he pushed inside you. The sensation between your legs was starting to get uncomfortable, your walls stretching past their limits.
"Stop for a moment," you choked out, his movements halting immediately. He brought his hand over to yours, his fingers intertwining yours. In a way, that small gesture took you out of your head and brought you back to the moment. I'm sorry," you looked over at him, feeling his cock twitching inside of you. He wiped one of the tears running down your face with his thumb, leaning in and pressing his lips against your forehead. "Don't apologize. We have all night."
Satoru was glad that you asked for a break. He'd resorted to thinking about a cursed spirit he had to fight earlier so he wouldn't blow his load upon the first thrust. The way that your walls clenched around him, like they never wanted to let his cock go was almost too much for him to bear. "So, How'd your day go today?" He decided to ask, wanting to make you a bit more comfortable in this situation. One of the questions you weren't expecting while having a dick inside of you.
“It was good,” you responded, taking a couple deep breaths to calm yourself down. The two of you got into a conversation of what’d you’d done for the day. Eventually, the pain in your vagina started to contort into need. The need for pleasure, for some kind of friction. "You can move," you spoke up after a couple seconds, letting out a gasp as his cock unsheathed from your cunt. He slid back inside, the tip of his cock hitting spots that most of your vibrators couldn't touch.
His rhythm started off slow, his main concern being on getting you adjusted to the sensation. Despite how much he'd thought about this moment, how much he wanted to claim your body as his, he decided that he would be patient. Your pleasure was miles above his own right now. He'd wait until you were comfortable enough to ask him for more. His thrusts were slow but deep, molding your cunt to the shape of his cock. With each thrust that he took, he made sure to hit your g-spot every time to have your toes curling and your eyes rolled to the back of your head.
"Faster, please," you moaned, moving your hips to meet his thrusts. He placed both hands on your hips, his balls slapping against your ass every time that he pushed his cock inside of you. The tip of his cock went deeper inside of you each time, your hand clinging onto his as your body shook underneath his. "Such a pretty cunt. Just made for me to fuck you," he babbled, moving one of his hands over to your clit. His thumb started to rub the nub in small circles, matching it to the pace he was setting.
You weren't sure if you wanted him to stop or keep going, the pleasure inside of you felt almost overwhelming. Your orgasm felt much more different this time around. Your body convulsed as you felt the pressure inside of you build up, your cunt gushing when he pulled out. Your release squirted out of you, leaking down your thighs and spraying up to wet his legs. "That was so fucking hot," he groaned, his cock twitching as he moved inside of you once more. The euphoria you felt from your orgasm was something you'd never felt before.
His thrusts started to grow sloppier by the second, a groan escaping his lips as he started to cum. A mixture of his fluid and yours leaked down onto the bedsheets below, your cunt filled up to the brim. He pulled out slowly with a squelch, the sight of you full of his cum almost being enough to give him a hard on again. He took a couple seconds to regain his breath, getting off the bed before walking over to the bathroom.
You wouldn't deny that a part of you was expecting for him to kick you out, that your time together was finished. He emerged from the bathroom with a white towel, getting in between your legs. He cleaned you up, wiping the fluid leaking down your thighs with more gentleness than you'd expected. "You don't have to go yet if you don't want to. I have some ice cream in the fridge to share if you wanna stay and watch something."
"Surprised you're willing to share."
"I guess I can make the sacrifice just this once. Just for you, though."
He walked over to his dresser, grabbing a white tee before placing it next to you. "The dress you're wearing isn't exactly ideal to spend the night in," he told you, as if that was enough explanation. Well, in a way it was. It was his way of asking you to spend the night over without actually having to do so. "If you didn't want me to leave, you could've said so," you called out after him as he left the room, getting up to put the shirt over yourself. You grabbed your panties off from the floor, sliding them back on.
He came back with two bowls of ice cream, a reasonable amount for you and the bowl filled to the brim for himself. "Wonder how you haven't gotten diabetes yet," you pondered out loud, grabbing the bowl once he passed it over. "If I do, I'll just use RCT," he responded, setting the bowl of ice cream down on his nightstand. He grabbed a clean bedsheet from his closet, pulling the soiled ones off before setting in the black silk sheets down.
He grabbed his ice cream before getting in the bed after you did. He wrapped an arm around you, the bowl of ice cream now situated in between his legs. The two of you got into a debate about what movie you wanted to watch, eventually just settling on a comedy that the two of you would enjoy. He held you close to his body as the movie started, a warm blanket pulled up to cover the two of you.
Despite the fact that his hands were all over you earlier, this was the most rewarding part of spending this time with him. His hands were wrapped around you, holding you close to his body while the movie played in the background. There was no invisible barrier separating the two of you anymore. In a way, you felt even closer to him now rather than when he was inside of you.
"What's on your mind?" He broke the silence, grabbing white bandages from his nightstand before wrapping them around his eyes. You finally felt as though you belonged somewhere for once. That place being beside satoru. "Nothing too serious," you assured him, resting your head against his head. He stole some of your ice cream, no complaints coming from you though. If a bit of ice cream was something you had to share, then there would be no problem.
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sinnabee · 10 months
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INGREDIENTS:
2 cups evil boredom
3 teaspoons (heaping) blorbo poison (powder, not liquid)
1 daycare theme (10 hour loop)
1/3 cup brainrot
*1/2 cup distilled back pain
**(un)diagnosed mental illness
*(any kind of pain works, back pain is usually what i have on hand)
**(if you aren’t a fan of the flavor a diagnosis leaves, undiagnosed will work in a pinch! Personally, I like to add a bit of both.)
INSTRUCTIONS:
First, turn on the daycare theme (10 hour loop) and pre-heat the oven to 375 degrees.
Sift together your evil boredom and blorbo poison in a medium sized bowl.
Add in your pain of choice and mix well.
Once thoroughly mixed, it should be looking a little thicker. Some granules from the evil boredom and blorbo poison are fine. (You can always mix further, if you’re worried about it affecting the texture.)
Add your brainrot and beat with a whisk until it’s looking lighter, a little fluffy. (If you aren’t in the mood for fluff, a dash of angst or hurt/comfort can help tone it down. An AU if you really wanna spice it up.)
Realize this is turning out a lot better than you thought it would. Dang. Well, you’re certainly committed now.
Go ahead and get out a glass baking pan. Coat the bottom with non-stick spray. (I tend to favor Y/N brand Nonbinary Spray myself)
Using a baking spatula (one of the rubbery bendy ones), carefully move your mixture from the bowl to the pan. It’s alright if you get some on the sides, the heat should help it settle once it’s in the oven. To get out any air bubbles, tap the pan (carefully!) a few times on the counter.
Place the pan in the oven and set a timer for 15-25 minutes, or take a peek every now and then and see if it’s the right shade of cheerful.
Congratulations!!! You’ve successfully survived evil boredom, despite the hurdles you faced, and made something! (Pretty tasty too, if I might add.) You are still mentally ill, though. But - hey - now you have a little treat! And hopefully, your day’s just a little bit brighter! Enjoy!
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theglamorousferal · 2 months
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Things I want in one fic:
Redeemed Vlad, Good Fenton Parents, Fentons/Vlad polycule
Liminal Amity Park
Redeemed Dark Danny, weird cousin?
Ellie as part of the family, sorta step sibling?
Defect quartet
The Class as a team deferring to Team Phantom
Jazz is Big Sister
Amity Park knows the secret
The Class moving to Gotham for college
Vlad giving them enough money to purchase Drake Manor
Tim has closed off the tunnel between the Manor and the Batcave
Tim was the one to hand the keys over to Danny, whose name was on the deed, courtesy of his new step-dad
They end up keeping in touch and Tim is a frequent visitor at the manor and befriends the majority of the Class
They all still keep up with their training, Sam and Valerie put together an obstacle course with the help of the jocks and every Saturday is a free-for-all battle royale with ecto guns set to their lowest setting across all of the grounds.
The last one standing gets to pick what restaurant dinner is from that night and the movie for movie night.
Tim does find all of this rather unusual, but mostly he finds that they remind him of all his hero friends.
This, more than anything else they do, makes him very concerned.
Why do these random midwesterners train like heroes? Why do they have a camaraderie he’s only seen forged on the same battlefield? He’s noticed they mostly defer to a group of five individuals. The pair of siblings who now own the Manor and the partners of one of said siblings. More than that, they all defer to Danny, the one he gave the keys to.
Luckily for him, Two Face happened to attack the bank that Danny was at and Danny did something he’d only ever seen Bruce manage to do and talked the villain down from the attack.
When asked, Dent just said that he saw a kinship in the kid, said he’d understood duality in a way that resonated with him.
Later that night Red Robin reopened the tunnels and paid one Daniel Fenton a visit. Tim found him in his father’s old study, using a brand new telescope through the window. He knocked and waited before entering.
“Ah, I expected one of you to show up. It’s why I decided to stay up tonight actually. We have a lot to talk about if you’ll take a seat? I’ll get us some energy drinks. You’ll be able to confirm they’re sealed and not poisoned that way. What’s your favorite flavor? Between the fifteen of us we’ve got to have the right flavor.”
Red Robin stood there for a moment, processing before following the man to his pantry. Once there he opened a new package of his favorite energy drink and opened it himself; not once did Danny make a fuss about him opening a whole new package. He grabbed a second one to bring with him back to the office. Danny grabbed a couple himself.
Once back in the office, they sat in two chairs across from each other. Danny leaned on his elbows with his fingers steepled. “What I am about to tell you is an incredible risk to everyone in this house, and likely yourself included. I need you to promise me to listen to everything I tell you before you start asking questions. I will answer them to the best of my ability after I have gone over the basics. What I am about to tell you is going to sound unbelievable, but I’m banking on the fact that you have likely frequently experienced impossible things and therefore may take me seriously.” Danny stared at the mask. “Now, what do you know about ghosts?”
Tim’s hair trigger was of disbelief, but then he paused and considered. Clark’s an alien, Diana’s a god, Conner’s a clone, at least half the family has come back to life. Why couldn’t ghosts exist? “Not much besides fairy tales.” He braced himself for what was to come.
Danny narrowed his eyes appraisingly. “Hmm. Well. They are, in fact, real. I’ll show evidence in a little bit. A Ghost as we know them is generally formed when a person’s emotions during death produce enough ectoplasm to give their sentience form. They then become residents of a place known by two names; the Ghost Zone, or the Infinite Realms. The Ghost Zone is what it’s known as on Earth, and the residents of the place itself call it the Infinite Realms.” Danny pauses here for a moment and then claps his hands. “Now, all ghosts are members of the Infinite Realms, but not all beings of the Infinite Realms are ghosts. The Realms is a dimension mirroring our own that is entirely made of ectoplasm. It’s where the residue from the emotions of all beings in our universe go and then are given form. There are beings there that are basically gods and are aspects given form. I can go on and on about the Realms later. What’s important is that throughout history there have been unstable naturally occurring portals between the two dimensions, but around five years ago, a pair of scientists managed to open a stable portal to this dimension. A few months later, a former college friend of theirs made a second stable portal, but I’ll get to him in a minute. Once this portal was established, it made it so that ghosts could now freely come into our world. A young hero took up protecting the city, but his first few attempts had quite a bit of misunderstanding to them and so he was villainized for a while. This resulted in the government establishing an agency to combat these threats. All well and good, right?” He raised an eyebrow at Tim. “You would think so. However, the laws passed to make this agency had some clauses that are questionable. I’ll just hand you a copy of the documentation so that you can read it.”
He handed Tim a folder labeled “Anti-Ecto Acts”. He began to peruse them and came upon the clause that declared any being that can process or contains ectoplasm is considered non-sentient or sapient and called for the capture, eradication, or experimentation of all such “ecto-beings”. “This, can’t be right. This is a blatant contradiction to the Meta Protection Acts.”
Danny smirked a sad smile. “You’d think, right?” He gave him a moment to process that. “You can read up more on that later. I have other things to say.” Tim set aside the folder and took a deep chug of his energy drink.
“Alright, hit me.” he said as he leaned forward to put his elbows on his knees, giving Danny his full attention.
“Kay, so, you notice the ‘any being that can process ectoplasm’ bit? Yeah, well that can apply to some humans too. Humans that are considered death-touched or Liminal. People who have been surrounded by death, have died even if momentarily on the operating table, but especially people who have been exposed to high levels of ectoplasm. Here’s the thing about living in a town with a stable portal to effectively the afterlife: it kinda does some stuff to you.” He flashed his eyes a Lazerus green as he set his right palm on the desk. He’s quiet for a moment before he leaned back with a sigh, then closed his eyes so they returned to their normal blue. 
“Every individual in my hometown is ecto-contaminated.” He said quietly, like, Tim supposes, he was telling a secret. Tim guesses he was. “Every person there is death-touched. Every person there is Liminal. Every person pings as an ecto-entity to the GIW. We’re all at risk. I wouldn’t be surprised if most of the heroes would ping too. I need your help.” Danny turned begging eyes upon Red Robin. “I need your help, and you need this too because I noticed it when we first met, Tim, that you are too.”
Tim reeled, he stood and knocked his chair over. “Wh-what do you mean?” 
“How many times have you been near-death? How many times have you been around the dying? That sort of stuff leaves a mark on people. They begin to metabolize ectoplasm. I reckon that the majority of the Justice League apply. I’d argue that soldiers who have seen active combat would register on some sensors. According to those laws, you can be captured and experimented on. They’re luckily focusing on ghosts and have been ignoring people, but it’s only a matter of time. I need you to bring this to Batman, to the League. I need these Acts removed. They call for the eradication of my People” His eyes flashed a green again as the word resonated. “This calls for the eradication of an entire dimension, they’ve already tried it once, and if they had, it would have torn this universe apart. Luckily the nuke they had was a dud.” 
Tim swallowed at that. “Nuke? They tried to nuke an entire dimension?” Tim picked up the chair and sat heavily in it. “I’m going to guess that this somehow gets worse?”
Danny nodded solemnly. “You see, the Infinite Realms has a council and a king. A good majority of the council rightfully believes that these Acts are calling for the genocide of our people. The king has kept them at bay for now, but they’re calling for war.” 
Tim put his head in his hands and groaned. “And the king?” Danny looked at him, debating something for a moment. Then he stood and there was a flash of bright light. Stood in front of Red Robin could only be the King. Danny now had bright white hair and eyes that glowed with a familiar Lazarus green. He wore a cloak of stars and his crown looked like the Northern Lights. He wore armor that seemed to be a combination of the ancient Norse and Greeks. “I just want my people safe.”
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ystrike1 · 3 months
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The Tale of Oshin - By Arhat (7.5/10)
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A dragon-blessed queen with two powerful, handsome husbands? It sounds too good to be true, because it is. The King who loves her is a brand new ruler who used to be a barbarian, so he is surrounded by enemies. Her dragon husband is even worse. His godly powers are questionable at best. The magic eyes he gave her as a wedding gift don't even work that well. How will Oshin cope with power, with her meek personality, and two deeply flawed lovers?
Oshin is kind of dumb and pretty. Her mother was the same way. Both of them attracted countless men with their naive sweetness and beauty.
Oshin is a terrible Queen. It really shows. She doesn't command respect. She doesn't even punish people who do disrespect her, because she wants the palace to be peaceful.
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Her first husband, King Naskaya, is always away at war too. The King is also close to a female aide named Suren, who is a genius strategist.
Oshin never speaks out against Suren...even though she currently has way too much sway in the palace.
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Naskaya the former barbarian, who now has to step up and be a King, is madly in love with Oshin. This is very bad. He indulges her. He never forces her to learn. Oshin thinks she's an idiot, because she cannot follow along at war meetings...but that's because Naskaya refuses to teach her. He wants his wife safe, happy, and pretty. I'm not saying Naskaya is a bad person. It's very sweet that he cares deeply for Oshin, and her health and happiness....but he is a new King in a volatile land that doesn't fully accept him.
Oshin has no children yet.
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Oshin gets captured by the Dragon...or the salamander. Oshin nursed a little salamander back to health...and it turns out that the little creature was her stalker.
I'm going to be clear here. Dragon is a very boring character who exists to make Naskaya jealous. I do not see his appeal, BUT he does give Oshin her powers.
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The Dragon's Eye is a great blessing. Having Dragon Eyes can allow you to.
- read minds.
- see hundreds of miles away.
- see glimpses of the future.
It's an extremely OP power to have....if you're smart. Oshin isn't smart. She is am uneducated and spoiled wife with no confidence. Also, using the eyes too much makes you sick....so Naskaya doesn't let her use them much. Even when she wants to...
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Naskaya is a big scary barbarian. He does allow Oshin to take the Dragon as her second husband, but he does it to protect her. He knows more people will bother his wife now that she has special powers. Only the Dragon can be trusted to be her bodyguard, basically.
He's way crueler when Oshin isn't around.
When she reads his mind briefly she sees that.
- Naskaya lusts after her to a scary degree.
- He's willing to kill his own family and friends to keep her as his wife.
The truth is to terrifying Oshin, who believed that Naskaya stayed with her out of obligation after he rose to power. He became King after their marriage, but she lived in fear of being tossed aside...because he was away so often.
It's hard for her to accept the truth.
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Oshin has no children....because Naskaya doesn't want her to get pregnant. His mother suffered horribly over the course of multiple pregnancies. If Naskaya wasn't a King it's likely that he would have kept his marriage childless. He finds pregnancy as a whole disgusting and he doesn’t want to put Oshin at risk....even though she actually wants a child with him very much.
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Suren knows Naskaya is a little crazy. She plans to take revenge on him.
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Naskaya killed her true love while he was busy trying to become King.
So she wants his new country to fail.
The rage of a woman is just like that. A slow poison. She is a formidable enemy.
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The Dragon doesn't even appear for ten chapters its hilarious. Also most of the time when Husband #2 is on screen Naskaya is jealous in the corner. The Dragon did stalk Oshin as a salamander, but he's not very intimidating.
It's neat that Oshin has to grow up and demand her Queenly rights. It's neat that Naskaya is overly doting to the point of insanity but the Dragon is reaaaallllyyy boring and the art isn't great.
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