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#I’m here to fix that
emry-stars-art · 5 months
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Neil covering Andrew up again, but make it sweet this time
[And the follow up]
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ohno-the-sun · 3 months
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Sol
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bizawa-art · 1 year
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“Now my job is to help the next generation and set a good example for them. And, for that, I’ll gladly lay down my life, and I’ll be smiling the whole time.”
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ominouspuff · 3 months
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WIP peek!
Non-chronological selection of pages and concept art from a WIP comic for @husborth, inspired by their Mustard Gas & Roses AU.
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sinnbaddie · 9 days
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Newfound kink | repost with credit
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Kk: you know… you have to stop pushing yourself. Your body won’t work if you overdo it.
Gai: I know that! You have no need to mother me, Kashi!
Kk: Mah, Gai-kun… you don’t want me to be your mommy?
Gai: GAH! Kakashi stop being a pervert!
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mattodore · 2 months
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society if matthias wasn't boring and liked tattoos
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fluttershiesworld · 1 year
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[ID: text reading,
“broken sonnet
you're 19 years old, and every day
you get out of bed
and brush your teeth
and eat breakfast
and don't want to kill yourself
feels like a miracle.
you want to be a martyr: a new age jean d'arc,
a beautiful symbol of some kind of change,
at least then you could mean something
in death. but you know dying would make you
nothing more than dead.
you want to bleed light but instead
bleed only the same ordinary red.” end ID]
broken sonnet, sunny valentine
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autism-alley · 3 months
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hi originally posted this at the end of a long thread of back and forth, here’s the og post if you want full context but i feel like this needs to be its own post especially bc i keep seeing this argument being made—the argument that the kids (in this case it was annabeth) SHOULD just know the monsters are monsters and who they are and how to defeat them before ever encountering them, that it’s a problem if they don’t.
the problem is not if 12 year olds should recognize a trap when they see one, even if they’re smart 12 year olds, and if that’s realistic. that is entirely beside the point.
the problem is rick riordan wrote a book series whose formula is bringing myths to the modern age and he’s not sticking true to that in the show—percy jackson and the olympians’ Shtick is taking these classic, ancient threats and giving them a new face. these traps work because these kids are not walking into a cave marked with Get Out and getting ambushed by monsters—the monsters are disguised as harmless mortal human beings, in harmless mortal human being places (for the most part) and i think we—and more importantly, the show—are all forgetting the mist, the magic involved here. it’s not just that medusa is a “creepy lady with her eyes covered” it’s that there is ancient magic at work here, magic that, like the systems of abuse pjo exists to criticize, has been evolving and continuing its malevolence for millennia. it’s formulaic, that’s the point. it’s the same trap you’ve learned about all your childhood, the same trap a thousand children before you learned all their childhoods, and still, it works. you fall into the trap. because that’s how generational abuse works. it’s a trap. it isn’t enough to learn monsters exist, what they look like from a second hand story that originated thousands of years ago. if you want to escape alive, you have to adapt as quickly as they do, recognize their face, and ultimately, beyond any individual trap, the game itself has to change. real, generational change.
so. the problem is rick riordan wrote a series with a formula for action that perfectly captures the overarching, systemic conflicts he was commentating on, and then threw that formula out in the show because it was “unrealistic”. i don’t give a damn about realism when it works to the detriment of the story. this is a story about generational abuse, yes, but it’s told through ‘a tale as old as time’ and that’s why it works so fucking well. and when it comes to basic storytelling, if your characters know the threat before they even walk in and you do practically nothing to then make up for the stakes you have removed, that’s a flaw. now you’ve lost the entertainment value for your audience, on top of also lessening your themes.
something else that is so. honestly soul-crushing as a writer and a creative, is that to me this is reflective of the way we are now afraid to tell earnest stories. stories where we care not for listening to the people who want to pick apart fictional, mythical, fantasy stories for not being “realistic” instead of aligning with our target audience who acknowledges reality is not what makes a story. think of your favorite movie, show, book, comic, what have you—has the reason for your favoritism ever been because it is the most reasonable, the most grounded, the most practical out of any you’ve seen? or is it because of the emotion? the way it speaks to you, to your life and the person you are? the journey it takes you on? is the percy jackson and the olympians book series so good because it’s inherently realistic?
the secret to storytelling is, very simply, focus on your story. everything else is secondary. if it’s written well, it doesn’t matter to me that the characters walk into a trap that, to the audience, is obviously a trap. because i can understand how the characters don’t know it, and how the story falls apart if the narrative just tells the characters it’s a trap from the jump. that’s what dramatic irony is—first used in greek tragedies! this is literally a tale as old as time in every sense except for the end—where it’s happy. and it’s not earned if we don’t first see, over and over, the status quo as a tragic trap.
it’s not about if annabeth (or the other kids) is “smart enough” to not walk into a trap, or about if she’s just too prideful to not walk into what she knows is a trap (or any reason that could apply to the other characters), it’s that annabeth, at the end of the day, is a character. she is a storytelling tool for the messages of the narrative. that doesn’t make her any lesser. in fact ignoring it reduces her, because it reduces what she represents. it’s about how rick riordan, or whoever else at disney, has fumbled the storytelling bag so ridiculously hard that they can’t take the simple, effective formula outlined from start to finish (by good ol 2009 rick himself) and adapt it to the screen without answering the most unimportant, derailing, anti-story questions.
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soullessjack · 2 months
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yea miraculous sucks but honestly they kinda popped off with a magical cat boy whose special magical weapon against evil is a lead pipe and the special magical power of stage 4 necrosis
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fantasykiri5 · 9 months
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BEHOLD! Smallidarity
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squinkoblinko · 3 months
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this guy eats brainz like gum
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pepperpixel · 1 year
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Some inside job art! Mostly just trying to figure out how to draw these two
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astolfofo · 11 months
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Notes: Slight lapse in judgement moment. (Please comment or reblog with something because I actually dedicated time for this one. I am humbly begging.)
Tw: non-con, gunplay, slight blood play, abusive behaviour, mentions of murder, yandere.
Tagging @yandere-romanticaa on this one, thank you for being the enabler to this (jokingly)
Also on a side note, if you want to listen to something when listening to this, it was inspired by sex with a ghost by teddy hyde, and bo en- pale machine (entire album)
Word count: 4.4K
Dazai had never quite sunken this low before.
He lays down onto the bed, with the gun clattering to the ground. He disregards it as he throws it to the floor, watching it slide across the room. It was useless now, anyways. There were no bullets inside, and it was quite the outdated model, that would be useless against anyone with even the slightest of strength.
All that’s left now is an overwhelming shame. An overwhelming shame that he touched himself, using that weapon for several previous hours, as a means to relieve himself. He feels so disgusted in himself again, as he looks at the rifle, which was now covered in a mixture of his own sweat and cum. It was so disgusting to look at, almost as evidence as to how much he had become a slave to his own desires. Almost as if he was succumbing to some kind of poision that plagued his mind on the daily.
And it didn’t even feel good, he thought to himself. I merely relieved myself enough to clear my mind, if even that.
Dazai looks around the room again. There’s nothing to see, and nothing to feel other than a sick sense of shame. A sense of shame that he decided to touch himself with a gun, while thinking of you. He wasn’t really thinking when he did that, he kind of just did it on impulse, without previous judgement. Yet as Dazai’s eyes dart back to the gun, and his mind drifts to other places. He pictures you cum, and sweat, with a mixture of yours and his cum dripping out of your hole. Your neck is covered with hickeys and bite marks and bruises running down your body. You’re panting, and slightly whimpering from pain, yet you also know he’s the only one who is able to fuck you this good.
He looks down at his cock, which is yet again, hard. He ignores it this time, not wanting to deal with his own arousal, instead choosing to lament over the fact that you were long gone from his life.
But still, he longs for your presence. A person long gone from his life. He longs for you to come back, but you never will.
Dazai shakes his head out of those thoughts, hoping to temporarily think about something else, anything at all that will make prison even slightly more bearable. He looks at the ceiling observing the fluorescent lights, and the solid white ceiling, which reminds him of the situation he’s currently in. Once again, he’s painfully reminded of why he was here. A detainment for ability users, built so they could stay here until they would eventually rot and die. There wasn’t any more to it than that.
He turns on the side again. He doesn’t want to think about that right now, either.
As he lays there, he’s painfully reminded how it’s been two years since you had broken up with him. Not that he was able to keep track of time in prision, but if he were to logically deduce the amount of times he had waken up and fallen asleep, it was about two years since you had broken up with him.
Yet the ghost of your presence haunts him constantly. Even after two years, Dazai had still not gotten over the breakup. No matter how badly he wanted to, he would always come back thinking of you. That you were still there, with him, and not somewhere else. That you still lived with him, that you never ran away from Yokohama, and that he never kidnapped and held you captive. He wanted to imagine that you’d be sitting at home, waiting, wondering where he was, instead of hopping on the nearest train, running away from him.
That you were the same person as who he met you first as, that somewhere at the back of your mind, you still thought of him, at least just a little.
However, he knew all of that was false. You were probably living a normal life again, back in your hometown, maybe with someone else you thought was better for you. Maybe by now, you had recovered from all the injuries he had gaven you over the years, maybe had gone back to the initial person you were, an individual he found so intriguing and rare, that he unwillingly fell for.
He was happy for you, if you were. As happy as he could be, if not exceptionally bitter.
He closes his eyes and imagines you again, how you would look right now, smiling and with some… other guy. It’s not a pleasant feeling imagining you with someone else. Jealousy, envy, and a eerie sort of anger arise in him. No… it’s not anger, he’s not sure what it was. It was closer to an urge to take you away from him, for whatever unknown reason.
Still, you had long ago let go of him, but he’d never let go of you. You had never loved him, but he’d needed you more than man needs air to live. He pictures the scene again, and that possessive feeling comes back again. It felt almost as if the air was being knocked out of his lungs the longer he looked at you and the man together.
You plagued his mind constantly, to the point where Dazai was willing to relieve the pain by almost killing himself with the rifle earlier. Still however, Dazai recognized he needed you as man needs air to live.
Yet he felt rooted in the ground, as his mind went blank again. He felt as if he was fighting a primal urge. He felt as if he was struggling in a room devoid of air, as the helplessness begins to settle down. But he won’t give up, he’ll fight until the very last second to stay alive. All he needs is for that man to be gone. Witnessing so… happy with another man made it feel like every breath he took was poision, and every step he took feel like stabbing his foot. He doesn’t want to see this again.
His vision goes blurry, and then black.
-
Dazai’s now walking down a dark alleyway. He’s not sure where it is, or how he got there, but he feels as if he’s stuck here now. There’s no sense of urgency, rather, a small, creeping sense of paranoia of why or how he’s here. The alleyway feels endless as if he was trying to escape a large maze. He can’t see to the other end of the alleyway, instead, constantly running into dead ends.
He wonders where he is. Was this another dream of some type? He can’t say for sure, it feels too surreal to be reality. But whatever it was, he felt like he was supposed to find something. There was something else in the maze… that was more important than a way out.
You.
At that exact moment, he hears footsteps. He turns around to see you walking in a different direction, at the entrance of the dead end he currently stands in. You’re calm, you look the same as you always did. And he’ll chase after you this time.
Dazai walks as quietly as he could, following you, to wherever you plan on going. You make several turns; one right and three lefts, before you stop at a door. A door that would likely lead you elsewhere, away from him. To somewhere you wanted to go, or needed to go. But that wasn’t the concern. If he let you go through the door, you’d be gone again. Gone forever.
And he’d lose you again. He can’t lose you again.
“Leaving so soon (Y/N)?”
You look at him. You finally turn around and look at him. He can’t tell the exact emotion of your facial expression, but he takes it with relish either way. Your eyes are wide, contorted with fear, yet anger, with some kind of underlying urgency. A urgency to run. Escape the situation.
But Dazai’s faster than you are. As you try to push open the door, Dazai manages to grab onto your arm and push you back first. You gasp for a quick second, and then regain your composure again, glaring daggers into his eyes.
“Let… Let me go you fucking bastard.”
Dazai smirks, “No.”
As on instinct, your breathing becomes shallow and rapid, as your face fills with dread and anxiety. You’re fighting against his grip, trying to break free from the position Dazai has you in, with your arms pinned against the wall, and his knee in between your thighs, keeping you in place. Dazai, on instinct, grips you by the arms tighter, until you feel like there’s no blood going into your hands.
“You were going to leave, weren’t you?” He mutters. “You were going to leave me alone here, and escape. You know I was going to find you either way, right?”
You open your mouth to protest at him, to tell him to fuck off, but nothing comes out of your mouth. Your jaw feels glued shut, it feels paralyzed.
“You can never truly escape from me, no matter how hard you try to forget the days I held you captive. No matter what, you’ll meet me again in some way, some shape, or some form,” he continues. “You should just accept that.”
Your heart is racing. You want to speak, you want to scream, but your brain doesn’t seem to be able to command your body to do these things. You’re struggling. Your hands are still shaking, trying to break free of his grip. You’re doing everything you can just to not give out on the spot, because you know, that Dazai will take you away if you do that. But you can’t win against him either. Not like this.
Your jaw trembles, as you attempt to call for help, scream, see if anyone is there. But Dazai is faster than you. He covers your mouth and you make out a muffled sound instead. “Shh.. don’t scream. There’s no one here to help you anyways.”
His voice sounds so gentle, so soft, it sounds loving, and genuine, if only you didn’t know what he had done to you at all. Dazai was always good at this, you could never say no to him, he always knew how to make your irrational heart win against your logical brain. Even though you could deny it to yourself all you wanted… if Dazai wasn’t so… cruel to you, you would have fallen for him several times over. But he wasn’t.
He was a monster. A monster with a luring personality, and a luring face, waiting for you to fall. Waiting for you to fall so he can posses you wholly. And you would have never known otherwise, until truly understood who and what he was.
“Just let me have my way with you, just this once, yeah?”
He doesn’t wait for your answer. It wasn’t like he was going to listen whether you said yes or no, anyways. No matter what your answer was, he was going to continue with his actions.
And so, he kissed you. As always, they start off so gentle, so tender, that you could believe it was true. That he wasn’t going to be rough with you later on. His sweet demeanor could only last so long before he lost control of himself.
So you were right. Within moments of your lips touching, his kissing instantly became more desprate, as if his life depended on it. Soon, you begin trying to pull back to breathe, but Dazai won’t let you. He’s waited two years, he’s not going to wait any longer.
So you try to breathe through your nose with as much oxygen as you can get. Dazai doesn’t stop, he’s trying to engrain the taste of your mouth inside his brain, he’s trying to make this last forever. It’s what he truly wants.
And so the gentleness that masks him as human is gone now. He’s doesn’t care if you’re struggling to breathe, or if this is all wrong, that he should let you have your own free will. He’s acting as a man who has not seen oxygen in years. A man that has been rejuvenated back into life by your presence.
And so his actions, initially kissing, have now turned into an action so rough, that it was making your mouth bleed slightly. And he doesn’t stop. The blood gets smeared over both your mouths, the taste of the iron stinging your tongue, and the back of your throat. It gets into his mouth too, and smears over both your lips, almost like a lipstick.
And only when it’s like that, does he stop. But you know this is far from done. You know what happens next and you don’t want it to happen. You inhale through your mouth, trying the best to ignore that your mouth is bleeding. You chest heaves up and down, while Dazai watches, wiping the blood off your blood off his mouth, and tasting it.
It’s addictive. It tastes so sweet to him.
Dazai then grips your chin with his index finger and thumb, while running his thumb over your lips. It’s supposed to be an intimate gesture, maybe a slightly romantic one, but you flinched either way.
You had always reacted this way to Dazai’s touch. No matter how many times he touched you, it always felt foreign to you. None of his actions felt they were done purely as of itself. They always led onto to something, often meant to confuse you. You hated it. You couldn’t what he wanted to do when he did certain actions and you always got the feeling he was playing with you for the fun of it, and that was most likely the case, most of the time.
Dazai smears the blood on your face and admires you.
Your face is visibily red, from the aggressive makeout session,, and your hair is discheveled, covering fractions of your face. Dazai brushes those strands away, as he looks at you. In return, you glare at him, feeling slightly grossed out, but in no position to protest. He then lets go of your arms, letting you fall slack against the wall for a second, and the realization hits again. Your heartbeat quickens at that, and you feel the urge to run, again.
Before you can make a move, you’re held in place again, by Dazai’s knee, which held you securely to the wall. You watch in terror as he takes off his coat and tosses it aside, discarded on the floor. No words are exchanged between the two of you, as you stare at him. Dazai moves his hands towards your chest, and starts unbuttoning your shirt as well.
“D-dazai… please stop…” you mutter.
Dazai puts a finger over your lips. “Just relax, and try to enjoy it, okay? I’ll make sure you feel good, and that you’ll never forget this time.”
“N-no that’s not what I mean. I don’t… I don’t want to do this…please…”
“It’s okay, darling. You know you want this, either way.”
The very air around you and Dazai seemed to be suffocating in a way you couldn’t quite say. It was tense, almost like an elastic band pulled to the very limit of what it could do, awaiting to snap at any moment.
And you were angry. Angry at Dazai that he wanted to do this. Angry at yourself for being caught by him. You felt an indescribable rage inside of you for what he had done to you over the years. Yet everytime, he still says he loves you.
Dazai would never let you go.
No matter where you went, he’d always find a way to get you back. You’re the only thing that he has left. The only thing that he truly wants to live for.
But you didn’t want to accept that for yourself. In fact, you couldn’t care less why the stupid bastard was so obsessed with you, to the point where you got sucked into this dream. You use the free hand, and slap Dazai in the face. It catches him off-guard enough for you to run back towards the door and open it. It creaks open, only for his hand to cover your mouth again, pushing you back against the wall, and keeping you in place.
“You’re not leaving.” Dazai snarls into your ear. “Try all you want, but I’m not letting you go.”
You claw at his hand, trying to pry it off.
“Maybe I should fuck you stupid enough, so you never think of doing that again, hm?”
You gaze at him in horror this time, while his hands travel back to your shirt and unbutton it completely this time, letting it fall to the floor. You wince slightly, due to how cold it is in the alleyway. Dazai then moves to your pants and begins unzipping them, and pulling them down to your ankles.
You once again, slightly recoil in disgust of his actions, but in no position to protest or escape. Now, you’re almost naked, left to the mercy of Dazai to do what he likes with you.
Tears sting your eyes. The, what felt like, slow torture of this entire situation felt painful.
Finally, Dazai takes off his pants. He’s painfully hard, and you cringe in disgust about how your fighting, struggling, and even crying aroused him so much.
Dazai moves his hands behind your back, unhooking your bra, and then he moves to your underwear. The last barrier separating you and him. He takes it off, noticing how wet it really is, and then tossing it aside too.
“My, my, (Y/N). You were that wet from just kissing? I thought you didn’t want this at all.”
“I-I don’t.”
“But your body does. You may deny it all you want, but your body yearns for me. You’ve been leaning into my touch ever since we met. Sure, you’re disgusted in what I’m doing, but do you want to know what your body thinks?”
A pure look of anger which slowly changes into fear fills your face. Dazai leans into the crook of your neck.
“It’s nice to be held be Dazai, isn’t it? You can’t change biological desire. And I think… you know I understand that better than anyone.”
And so, Dazai turns you onto your back, and pushes his entire cock inside of you. You hiss from the sudden intrusion that felt all to familiar and foreign at the same time.
And it reminds you of how painfully well he knows you, yet how little you know him.
And you feel his hands grab onto your hips, and he begins bouncing you up and down on his length, never failing to hit that place inside of you that sent sparks of pleasure up your body.
And he wasn’t being gentle this time, too. If he had been going any faster than he already was, you were sure it would have hurt more than brought pleasure to you.
And he repeats these actions, over, and over. It’s always been that way. Yet your mind felt like it was still melting from the actions. You can’t help it. You can’t help yourself. It feels so good, and you know only Dazai can do this to you.
You almost have to bite back on moaning as he constantly hits that spot. You refused to give him that satisfaction.
Dazai seems to notice this as well. “Don’t hold back. You know I’ll get what I want in the end, anyways.”
Your breath hitches. You knew that. But you didn’t want to give Dazai the satisfaction of having all power over you. But that was all slowly becoming impossible as you came to the realization that physically, you had always wanted Dazai carnally, your mind just believed otherwise.
And as Dazai pushes you down particularly hard that time on his cock, you can’t help but loudly squeal at how good it really felt. It felt mind-numbing lay good. You enjoyed the pain, all too well.
Dazai smirks against your neck again, knowing that he had gotten you in a state where he has all the power. He leans into your neck. He bites down on the flesh, hard enough to draw blood. He licks at the blood enjoying the taste.
And at this exact moment, your hole clench around him too, signalling that you were close to your high.
Dazai groans slightly, taking in the pleasure of the feeling. But he was never kind enough to let you reach your high on the first round.
And he wasn’t going to be kind this time, either.
He bounces you on his cock at a more rapid pace, as your moans get higher and higher, until your cunt is clenching around him tight enough that he almost felt like you could snap his cock off.
And to think you didn’t like it? It made him scoff.
Dazai feels himself chasing his high too. It had been so long… since he had last done this. He felt fulfilled. He felt like he, himself, were on cloud nine, all his previous emotions relieved, instead a dark sort of pleasure replacing any previous emotions.
You’re no different yourself. Despite your anger and hatred towards him, even from one look at your eyes, he could tell you were craves this in a carnal way as well. And for miles around, only the slapping of skin, combined with wet noises, and moaning could be heard. There was no need for anymore than that.
But then it all stops. You look at him in confusion, whining slightly, as he pulls out. Dazai never let you come the first time. He would reduce you to a whining, brainless, mess before allowing you to cum. Only to let you cum so many times, that you wouldn’t even be able to walk the next day.
Yet as for himself, he would cum countless times, until your holes were filled with him, and until your body was covered in it. His cum.
You wince at the gross sticky sensation between your legs again. You feel Dazai’s cum running down your thigh, and it feels disgusting. Normally, you’d yell at him for him to pull out, but right now, your mind was too hazed with other things to care.
“You think you get to cum on the first round after acting like that?”
You don’t respond, trying to get rid of the feeling of being so empty.
“You’re really that desperate, aren’t you?”
You still don’t respond, breathing heavily. Your mind is numbed again, still trying to recover from the myriad of sensations hitting you. Your mind is still hazy with lustful desire.
Dazai sighs, “I suppose I’ll just have to make you cum over, and over, and over, until you can’t anymore.
Your eyes slowly widen again, as you stare at him. “No…. No… please anything but tha-“
“Shh… shh… it’s okay belladonna. You’ll feel so good at the end of it. Promise.”
“No please… Dazai, I didn’t mean it like that. Please, please… it’ll hurt….”
Dazai caresses your face. It’s a gentle, tender action that you want to lean into. But you know it feels more like a nurse preparing you for a needle. A very painful needle that would scar you your arm, that would make you look in shame for the rest of your life.
He kisses you, again, and you have no choice to accept what he gives you.
-
Dazai looks at you. You’ve came more times than he could actually count, to the point where you weren’t even conscious anymore. You’re covered in cum, sweat, and scratch and bruise marks. A mixture of yours and his cum drips out of your hole, and he takes the sight in with a sick sort of satisfaction.
He’ll a,ways love you. In his own sick, twisted way. Every step he takes, every breath he takes. He’ll do it all for you. You don’t belong to anyone else. You’re his, only his.
No matter how far you go, you’ll always be pulled back to him.
He picks you up, and kisses you on the forehead. You look so peaceful.. sleeping. He drapes his jacket over you, and puts his clothes back on.
“Let’s go home now, shall we Belladonna?”
He walks out of the alleyway, his footsteps echoing throughout the walls.
—-
One light flickers.
Static fills Dazai’s ears. He opens his eyes. He sits up disoriented, looking around at his surroundings.
That’s right.
He’s still in prison, he’s still detained in this room, and he forever will be. Until he tries to escape. Until there’s a way out of this, he‘ll just have to stay here, and hope for the best. At this moment, he remembers why he was here in the first place.
He turns on his on his back again. The desolate ceiling mocks him.
But his mind doesn’t want to think about that now. That dream he just had…. It felt so surreal yet real at the same time. He wonders if you were actually there, or if it was just a figment of his imagination.
There’s an obvious answer to that question, though. It’s not even worth asking.
You’re gone. Forever. He doesn’t even know where you are. You don’t know where he is either.
He thought of that dream just to relive his own desires. There’s nothing more to it. Everything is still the same. Yet, he couldn’t help but feel some delusional hope that something was different today.
But he should crush that hope before disappointment gets to him again.
Just then, there is a knock in the door. He wonders who it is. As he walks towards the door, he wonders why the prison guards are bothering him. Yet again. It wasn’t like he had done anything over the previous days.
He twists the doorknob, thinking about what he’s going to say this time. Maybe he’ll even punch them in the face.
However, as he pulls the door back, it’s not what he expected at all.
No… maybe being hopeful worked, for once. Maybe the dream was to tell him something.
It’s you.
You’re here.
And if looks could kill, he would just be about dead now.
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listenheresweaty · 1 month
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Reminder that Stirringjuice/Ven themself has said that TMC is not fetish content. Kister’s works are NOT an extension of what was described in the allegations document. If you don’t want to consume TMC content anymore, fine (best you don’t— not in a way that gives Kister money anyway), but don’t spread misinformation.
EDIT: after rereading Ven’s callout document and finally being able to access ALL the screenshots he attached, I have decided that I will no longer support him. I will not go back to supporting Alex Kister yet, but I cannot support a blatant ableist transphobe either. link to annotation doc: (not mine) https://docs.google.com/document/d/e/2PACX-1vReErDatnpQ_h3W-WlqrmzmPN26-UyDwLVwBKmHV09WhVZtdZQM44HRxvoV0ZTz8Ho-NaBVKYxjNuha/pub
Things I will be addressing:
Why I do not support Ven (separate from other victims)
Stuff that Alex Kister DID do wrong, even if the allegations were exaggerated/faked/done out of malice
The allegations and victims themselves.
WHY I DONT SUPPORT VEN
First of all, this ⬇️ (scroll down its below the blue highlighted ss. Formatting issues sorry.). This is a ss of Ven’s (now deleted, now archived post) response to how many people are calling him transphobic for his transmisogynistic comments in his document, and how he had basically outed Alex. Instead of saying something like “it wasn’t transphobic — I had to out Alex— it was necessary for the victims/proof/whatever”, Ven just says that if Alex didn’t want to be outed or subjected to transphobia, he shouldn’t have been a “groomer” (Ven later says that he had misused the word “groomer”. Everyone that Alex had interacted with in a sexual or romantic manner had been an adult, and had fully explicitly VERBALLY consented.)
However. Even if your opponent is a bad person, you do NOT have the right to be transphobic. EVER. criticize them on whatever they’ve done wrong, hold them accountable in a balanced and civilized manner— etc. Being protected from bigotry/ not getting misgendered, privacy, legal counsel— these are all examples of RIGHTS.
When you start denying something based on whether someone deserves it or not, that “something” has become a privilege. By stating that his transphobia was excused because Alex is a supposedly bad person, Ven has stated that not being subjected to transphobia is a privilege. here’s the link: (takes forever to load the keep reading portion but it works for me) https://web.archive.org/web/20240317125855/https://www.tumblr.com/stirringjuicee/745117180204548096/alex-kister-and-actively-using-being-trans-to-lure
Screenshot of the post below, along with something from the callout doc (annotated by a tumblr user. The non-highlighted color text is the annotated bit.
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—— ss from ven response (click. It IS An image it just looks like text)
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—- now onto some more details.
Ven, or StirringJuice, made the first allegations document against Alex Kister. He had stated himself that he does not consider himself a victim, just a friend of the victims who wanted to spread the word. Ven starts the document off by describing his past relationship with Alex Kister. He also includes screenshots of text messages from Alex— which often contradict or have no relation with what he’s saying. This is why it’s important to look at the screenshots, guys! Most of the toxicity in Ven’s relationship with Alex stemmed from Ven’s refusal to honestly his boundaries or feelings. He told Alex that he was comfortable with the sexual comments, he told Alex that he was comfortable being just Friends with Benefits, and he told Alex that they were welcome to vent to him any time <- all of this is corroborated by the text screenshots that Ven himself posted.
In Ven’s text messages, we can see him suggesting that Alex gets a therapist. Great! Nothing wrong there. And then you actually look at the ss:
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(Ven is the blue. These ss are linked in the callout document.)
First of all. You cannot force ANYONE to get mental help, regardless of whether you think it’s for their own well-being. If their behavior is harming you, leave. But even the worst people on earth deserve autonomy for these kinds of things. Ven literally states that he had FORCED Alex to get a therapist, and you can see him admit it in the messages above as well.
after these ss links (labeled part 9 in the doc), Ven hits us with this absolute banger:
“[Alex] then decided to go off his meds.”
Someone had already said this, but: YOU HAVE NO RIGHT TO SAY THAT TO OR ABOUT A MENTALLY ILL PERSON. EVER. REGARDLESS OF WHO YOU ARE, OR WHO THEY ARE. it’s an insult to every mental health community.
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^ also, Alex gives a pretty good reason for going off his medication. Not that they needed to.
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^highlighted text is Ven’s callout post. Purple text is a fellow tumblr user’s annotations. They have a whole post with these annotations. I’ll credit them when I’m done writing out my post. [clarification: the annotator uses “she/her” pronouns for Alex, Ven uses he/him. I use they/them because Alex was never publicly OUT as she/her before they were outed, so I’m not sure what to do]
Also: please go on the callout doc and see the “pt. 11” screenshots yourself. There’s a lot of them and I don’t want to add them here, but please go see them.
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^Ven hears that Alex wants to start a new chapter with them (yknow, like redeem the toxic relationship they’ve had) and immediately assumes it’s in the romantic sense.
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^Alex admits that they are not ready for a committed relationship, a good first step for smoothing over any toxicity.
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^nothing else to add. Annotator did great.
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^ text ss as listed under the “pt. 14” link
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These are 3 out of 10 ss under the Pt. 15 link. Look at the text indicated to with the red arrow (drawn by me). Ven literally tells Alex that they “don’t understand anything ever.” They also tell Alex in a later ss (plz find it yourselves because I’m not posting all 10 photos) that they “don’t understand [their] own emotions.”
Maybe Alex was making an unhealthy decision by continuing to reach out to someone they clearly had an unhealthy relationship with. But these responses are borderline abusive, especially when aimed at someone who suffers from paranoia.
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A huge chunk of the entire callout doc is Ven venting about his relationship with Alex. This relationship is not abusive, it is toxic on both sides. The fact that Ven put this much focus on these barely relevant details— even when the topic was the victims, not Ven himself— suggests that he did this out of petty vindictiveness. If the allegations are true, the victims deserved a BETTER PERSON and a BETTER FRIEND to share their story. Not someone who did it purely because it was en excuse to get revenge. If it wasn’t revenge, why add all these details?? (funny thing— the whole doc. Would be more believable if Ven hadn’t added all this stuff. He destroyed his credibility before even getting to the allegations).
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the one below has more transphobia and general assholery than ableism.
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^apparently once you are out of the closet, you are not allowed to go back or feel ashamed. Else you are lying and manipulative. Thanks, Ven.
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I am done posting screenshots from the annotation document. Please, PLEASE read it in full. I will tag it in the comments. There are so so so many good points.
STUFF THAT ALEX HAS DEFINITELY DONE WRONG, REGARDLESS OF WHETHER THE ALLEGATIONS ARE TRUE OR FALSE:
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(Orange text is annotator, black is original doc).
Venting to/ Relying on a minor fan for mental health support (I think it was Mitchie). That’s not good.
making allusions to suicide during their relationship with Ven. Joke or not, that’s unhealthy.
ALLEGATIONS/VICTIMS:
wont say much here because I’m getting tired. some people on Reddit have been pointing out that some discord ss (not the ones I’ve shown you, those were imessage ss) look faked because there is use of military time, which is not an option on discord apparently. Other screenshots seem to use different fonts as well, further indicating forged evidence. I have fact-checked none of this and can’t verify it (not that you should be relying on my word alone, anyway).
I do not support Mitchie, since they’ve been telling people to self-harm and/or commit suicide when they point out flaws in the callout doc. I don’t care what you’ve been through. There is no excuse for that.
As for the other victims.. I find their statements fishy. However, I will not disbelieve them until more has been cleared up.
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estrellami-1 · 5 months
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If I Should Stay
More housekeeping! I was wrong about the date last time. My hiatus isn’t starting on the 15th; it’s starting on the 13th, possibly a bit earlier. But I’ll see y’all a little less than a month after that!
Part 1 | . . . | Part 38 | Part 39 | Part 40
“Vecna’s got my sister,” Steve whispers into the line, and Robin knows immediately that this time, this next fight with Vecna, is going to be very different.
She’s not going to let two of his atoms touch after what he’s done.
“Okay,” she answers, mind going a million miles an hour. “We know how to fix this, Steve, but you need to focus. Can you focus?”
He takes a deep breath. “Yeah,” he murmurs. “Yeah, I can focus.”
“Okay. We need her favorite song.”
“I don’t know her favorite song.”
“Then you need to find someone who does.”
The line is silent for a minute, then Steve gasps. “Cassidy! She’d know.”
“Okay, that’s perfect. Call Cassidy, ask her what Allison’s favorite song is. I’m going to pick up El and we’ll be there as soon as we can, okay?”
“Okay,” Steve says. “Hurry?”
“As fast as I can,” she promises. “Call Cassidy.”
They hang up, and Robin eyes Wayne, who’s already waiting by the door with his truck keys. “I’m gathering this is an emergency.”
“If it wouldn’t be entirely weird, I would kiss you,” Robin informs him, because she barely has a filter at the best of times, and this is definitely not the best of times.
Thankfully, Wayne just laughs. “I’ll take that as a compliment,” he says. “Toss your bike in the back and get in. I’ll need directions.”
Robin worries her lip. “Y’know the Wheelers’ place?”
“Karen?”
“Yeah. There first, please.”
Wayne offers her a teasing salute as he puts the car into drive, and Robin suddenly thinks this all might just work out.
The drive to the Wheelers’ is uneventful, and she hops out of the truck and pounds on the door. Karen opens it, and Robin grits her teeth. “Hi, Mrs. Wheeler,” she says politely. “Is Nancy home?”
“Oh, yes, of course, come in,” she says, ushering her inside before calling for Nancy.
Robin watches as Nancy makes it halfway downstairs before she sees who’s here. She watches as she goes through all the possibilities. “Hey, Robin, you’re here for the project, right?”
“Yup,” Robin nods. “For, uh. School.”
Nancy blinks. “Right,” she says, casting a glance at her mom, who doesn’t notice. “C’mon up.”
Robin hesitates. “Think we could use the basement?”
Nancy’s eyes flash. “Sure,” she says, and they’re halfway down before she speaks again. “What’s going on?”
“Vecna has Allison. We need El.”
Nancy bites back a curse.
They finally make it down, and El is standing in the middle of the room, waiting for them. “It is time.”
“It is,” Robin nods. “Are you ready?”
Eleven shrugs. “Is anyone?”
Robin gives half a laugh. “I guess not.” She turns to Nancy. “Is there an exit that doesn’t go through the house?”
Nancy nods and leads them out. “I’ll get everyone else,” she says. “Meet you back there as soon as we can. Be safe.”
“You too,” Robin says, grabbing El’s hand and running for Wayne’s truck.
“Where to?” Wayne asks.
“The Harrington place. Will you come inside?”
“All due respect, Robin, but my boy’s in there. There ain’t no way in hell I’m leavin’ him alone.” There’s a slight pause before he says, rather uncomfortably, “Not because I don’t trust you, of course-”
“No, of course not,” Robin waves him off.
“And, uh.” He winks at El. “You’ll have to pardon my French, little lady.”
She giggles at him. “But you weren’t speaking any French!”
Wayne chuckles. “No I wasn’t, and a smart one you are for knowin’ that. No, pardon my French just means excuse my potty mouth.”
El turns to Robin, who says, deadpan, “He means ‘cause he said hell.”
“Oh,” El says, as Wayne splutters but ultimately stays quiet.
Soon enough they’re at the Harrington place, and Wayne barely parks the truck before they’re all running in.
Robin stops him just before they get inside. “Did Eddie explain any of this to you?”
Wayne blinks at her. “No.”
“Shit,” she whispers. “Okay, look, long story short, which I’m kinda really terrible at, like worst person ever, like I can’t tell a short story to save my life-”
“Robin.”
“Right, short story, right. Um, we’ll explain more later, but basically me and Steve are time traveling here from four years in the future because there’s a wizard guy- well he’s not a wizard, actually, it’s Henry Creel, but anyways things happen and he’s got powers and he’s like a wizard and he’s trying to get control of peoples’ heads and kill them. And he’s trying it with Steve’s sister, Allison, right now. So… that’s what we’re about to walk into.”
Wayne sighs. “Is there anythin’ for me to shoot at?”
Robin blinks. “Well, no. Not right now, at least. But later there could be. If you want to be involved.”
“I ain’t lettin’ y’all do this while I sit by and do nothin’. That ain’t how I was raised.”
Robin stares at him for a beat, nods, and together they run inside.
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palilious · 1 year
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Working off of a personal headcanon where Redacted Vamps show off their age by their ears
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