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I can't properly put into words the amount of disgust that I feel seeing someone who looks like she could be my cousin fight for a genocidal occupational force like Israel but I will say this.

If you are Chinese, Korean, Japanese or any one of these Asian ethnicities that the West deem "acceptable" and you align yourselves with western-backed racial supremacy, you are making fools of yourselves. You have fallen prey to the myth of the "model minority" and you are suckers for it.

The premise of racial supremacy is based on exclusivity. And here's a dose of reality - the myth of the "model minority" is nothing but a tactic to placate you. To sow divide in the ranks of people of colour. To artificially manufacture another realm of racial supremacy in minorities so that you're distracted from how we all suffer under colonialism.

Did we all forget about the skyrocketing of sinophobia in the wake of the first COVID outbreak? The transformation of Chinese people into fiends with barbaric eating customs, poor hygiene, and mass conspiracy to infect the world with biological weapons?

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What about the hate-crimes? The attacks in the street against anyone visibly asian? The rampant discrimination and ostracisation from society?

In 2020, Donald Trump referred to COVID-19 as "The Chinese Virus", "Kung-flu" at a campaign rally to raucous applause, a chilling echo of the times where fears of the "Yellow Peril" had the western world in a stranglehold.

For all that Chinese people have been lauded as "prodigies" and "well-mannered workers", the moment our existence was incovenient, were were nothing more than another target. And although Chinese suffering then wasn't close to the scale of suffering that Palestinians now endure, we all received a reminder on what it was like to be in the world's crosshairs.

Now, in 2023, Biden dismisses death tolls as unreliable and remains proudly Zionist even after Netanyahu described the genocide Israel is inflicting upon Palestine as the "struggle between the children of light and the children of darkness, between humanity and the law of the jungle." At the same time, Palestinians are being compared to fleeing rats in a gesture of dehumanisation that mirrors how the Nazis portrayed Jews during the Holocaust.

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And let's not think Abigail's Jewishness will save her, not when it's been proven that Israel has administered contraceptives to Ethiopian Jewish immigrants without their consent. Racial supremacy is an exclusive club that never stops getting smaller, and there is nothing that you, as a minority, will ever be able to do to fit in. One day, you too will be a target and there'll be nothing you can do but blame yourself. After all - it's already happened.

So shame on Abigail. Truly. With the memory of knowing what it's like to be targeted for factors out of your control fresh in her mind, she happily fights to do the same to others. And that says more about her than I ever will be able to.

it's 2 am and i should sleep but i just read your prison penpal!ghost now it's rotting my brain!!!! ><

reader would so try to send him gifts if they're allowed. special holidays aren't miserable for him anymore as he would be accompanied by reader's sweet little presents!!!

Sleeps for the weak baby, sleep when you’re dead ;)

Of course you're going to look after your man, he does so much for you, the least you can do is send him some money to treat himself!!! maybe a gift or two you dirty girl :3

I know I promised to upload this last night after work but I was sleepy. IM SORRY PLEASE FORGIVE ME

TW: edging, Si fucks himself with your dirty panties, smut, masterbation (Reader and Simon) its just fucking disgusting and dirty, but also kinda sweet <3

PrisonPenPal!Simon masterlist

Regular masterlist

Absolutely, holy shit. After your first phone call, you’re his, he makes that so unbelievably clear through his next letters. :)))

Telling you how much he craves you, how you’re the only thing on his mind, describing in intimate detail how his gonna touch you, kiss you, fuck you :((((

His so fucking desperate for you, to the point he actually gets enraged knowing he can’t touch you. Just the thought of you being on the other side of the wall makes his skin crawl, you’re right there, only thick cement dividing him from you :(( 

Its even worse knowing that he can’t do anything about it >:(

Si’s a problem solver, he prides himself on being able to weasel his way out of practically any situation without a problem, if that’s  reducing his sentence down to basically nothing or getting away with his little late night phone calls with you. He always finds a way to make it work, but for the first time ever, he can’t fix this, his stuck here. No exceptions, no sweet talking to get what he wants, no amount of calculated manipulation could get him out of this situation, and it makes him go absolutely mad. 

At this point he has a year left of his sentence, his so fucking close to being let back into society, so close to finally being with you :(((

Letting his emotions (and dick) cloud his judgment, driving him to think about making stupid decisions such as an attempted jail break would be absolutely the worst idea of his entire life.

Ohhhhh, but its so tempting :(

But it would just put more time between you and him, as much as he wanted you now, he knew it was only going to rip him away from you again in the long run :/

And that’s if his even successful, one night with you would mean the world to him, but it wasn't worth being thrown back in jail, only separating the two of you for longer :(

He just needed to sit tight, let the days roll on and try not to think about your soft moans through the shitty speaker of the prison phone. :(((

He absolutely asked you to be official after speaking to you for the first time. It drives him crazy knowing when guys try and hit on you at the bar, you smile brightly and tell them that you're his, his to keep. 

One of the guards asked him what’s the first thing his going to do when he gets out, with a dopey smile he chuckles a little

“See ma’ missus mate” his so fucking cute, his actually so obsessed with you, so proud that you’re his ;))))

Of course the other inmates wouldn’t know, and technically he most definitely shouldn’t of told a guard, news spreads, but he couldn’t help it, it slipped out, and you know what, he was fucking proud of it :)))

You 100% would send him money and gifts, Si makes a little money, about £35 a week either cleaning, laundry duties, basic maintenance, basically anything the job program can offer him. 

The only issue being when he first signed up, he made sure that all his money was payed into Price’s bank account. He didn’t want to risk using it, the whole reason he started the work program was because he wanted to try and set himself up once he got out, at least have some type of savings waiting for him on the other side. Every now and then he regrets it, but he knows its for the best :/

Learning that Si was so strict with his money that he didn’t treat himself to anything didn’t sit well with you….and its not like you’re struggling financially, you work a good job and your daddy is always willing to send money if you ever needed it!!!!

A hundred odd pounds a month isn’t going to leave any sort of dint in your bank account, so of course your going to send Si some money to treat himself!!! You’re such a sweet, sweet girl :(((, his sweet, sweet girl. 

You start sending the maximum amount each month which comes out to about £150, its the least you can do!! His your boyfriend! he might be a felon, a little perverted and rough around the edges, but to you, his perfect :)))

His so grateful as well :(( treating himself to snacks :((( chocolate bars, skittles and gummy’s, buying himself a book or two, replacing his flat, stained pillow and ratted blankets, getting himself some actually nice soap and a new toothbrush, buying clothes that actually fit him!! 

His muscles have grown so much since being locked up :3 there’s nothing else to do besides lift weights, work and sit around :((((

“Sweetheart, I want ya’ to know, the second I get out of here, imma treat you real nice, give ya’ everything I can, look after ya’, protect ya’”

and

“The minute I get ya’ home, its all about you, yeah? Imma lay ya’ down and eat ya’ like a starved man, overstimulate that little cunt till ya’ beggin’ me to stop, fuck ya’ so deep and hard that you’ll forget ya’ fuckin’ name, whatever ya’ want darlin’ its all yours, been lookin’ after me so well….. imma show ya’ how much I appreciate it, as ya’ can probably tell, i’m more a man of action, poetry an’t ma style baby ;)”

Definitely learns origami from other inmates, makes little paper swans and hearts for you, the paper always being a little stained from his dirty fingers, obvious crease marks showing his folded it the wrong way and had to reattempt :))))

God he knows how to treat a women :33333

But what I really want to get into are the gifts you send him…..;)

As I established in my last fics about you sending things to Si, you absolutely send him innocent gifts. 

Photos, one of your favourite gold necklaces, an oversized tee that smells like your perfume…. Cute little personal things so he can have a piece of you, nothing crazy :3

I feel like you were reading a spicy romance book. It mentioned the main character stealing his lovers used panties out of her dirty laundry basket, very quickly and idea clicked in your brain :((((

You wanted it to be a surprise for him :(((( you didn’t mention it to him in your letters, only telling him your working on a little something that’s crafted just for him ;))

Waking up in the morning you make sure to fuck yourself with your fingers :(( 

Covering your panties with your juices, making sure their absolutely soaked in your cum :((

Rubbing your thighs together while you’re at work, soaking through your panties with your arousal :((( thinking about Si eating your pussy just like he promised while in important meetings, loosing focus…. your boss pulling you aside and asking if you’re okay :(( 

Scrambling to find an answer to explain your distracted behaviour and flushed cheeks >:(

He ends up sending you home because you’re distracting everyone with your aloofness :(( putting the rest of your team behind because you're a selfish girl with a dirty mind >:( can’t even focus in your workplace because Si’s dirty words have taken over every aspect of your thoughts >:(

At the end of the day your panties are ruined with your slick, soaked  all the way through and smelling of your orgasm just like you planned ;))

And when Si received your thong obviously used??? :000000 he let out a low grunt....

Just the idea that you did this for him, fully confirming in his mind that you wanted him, craved him just as much as he craved you made something animalistic set off in his mind….

Because he received your package in the middle of the day, he couldn’t hide and tend to himself like normal >:((((((

He needed you now, he needed to fuck his cock NOW, not wait till his cell mates were asleep, his heavy balls ached and he knew if he didn’t relieve himself soon, his blue balls would become unbearable >:(((( aching and hurting with each step, uncomfortable and frustrated :(

Purposely being a dick and coursing havoc with his inmates so he can be locked up for his disruptive and disrespectful behaviour ;)))))

A shit eating grin when his in handcuffs being walked to his cell, knowing your panties are tucked into his boxers ;))))) his won yet again ;)

Like I’ve said before, and I’ll say it again, he ALWAYS gets what he wants :)))

The second his cell locks his ripping his hard, leaky cock out and wrapping your used panties around himself :((((

Pumping his fat dick, the friction of the fabric making it that much more satisfying :((((

Closing his eyes and imagining you walking around all day, turned on and flustered for him >:((((( the idea of you restricting yourself from fucking other men because you're his, knowing all you want is to be filled with dick, have the feeling of a real cock fucking you, not your cold, rubber dildo >:(

His precum mixing with your juices only turns him on more, knowing that this is the closest he’ll get to fucking your cunt for now :(( 

As his big hands slowly pump his dick, wanting to savour the moment, he lets out animalistic grunts, slowly speeding up and then slowing his pace, he edges himself almost whimpering when he refrains from his release yet again :(((

Something about holding back satisfies him, his training himself for you, getting ready for when he fucks you for the first time, wanting to hold out long enough that he can rip orgasm after orgasm out of you, forming a white rim of your cum around the base of his cock :(((

Grunted whispers of your name falling from his lips as he tries to hold back yet again, legs twitching and face getting hot as uncontrollable ropes of cum finally release from his vainy cock :(((

His never cum that much in his life, your panties damp with his semen, dick so sensitive that even the feeling of the fabric from his boxes makes him flinch >:(((

You’re such a good girl, always knowing how to please him, feels like you know him inside and out already ;)

You just wait until he gets his hands on you sweet girl ;))) 

Y'all are so fucking obsessed with each other I CAN'T

PrisonPenPal!Simon is open for requests so feel free to send them throughhhhh, add to the AU, ask me expand on certain topics, whatever floats your boat >:)

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jake being a little shit and reader taming him in the forest 🫶🏾

⠀⠀ humbling a brat.

pairing. jake sully x top male reader.

dni. fem-aligned and minors.

author’s note. changed the format again a bit bc my lil meow meow is so hh also im adding titles bc

content. pre-established relationship, jake being a brat and a masochist, under-negotiated kinks, choking, spanking, fingering, overstimulation, degradation, praise, and a singular ‘sir’.

“didn’t know someone could be more hardheaded than me.” a laugh came from jake sully, who was smirking, showing off his fangs.

your ears would press flat against your head, eyebrows twitching out of frustration. you had transferred into your avatar recently after the war had ended, being one of the few humans that decided to stay on pandora, and are just now learning the na'vi language. even though you were doing better than expected, jake would tease you nonstop every time you slipped up. he seemed to completely ignore the fact you were doing much better than he had at first.

it annoyed you, even more than his typical bickering did. everyone could tell, neytiri sensing your increasing anger no matter how hard you tried to hide it. she thought he had taken it too far, considering how tense you became. but, you knew what he was trying to do, what game he was trying to play. you’ve dealt with him long enough to see through him.

he follows after you as neytiri provides guidance, teaching you whilst zoning out jakes taunts, something you couldn’t do. but, that was only because they were directed towards you. and with every comment, he’d brush past you, tail gliding against you whenever it could, taking every chance to touch you without a second thought.

he wanted something, that something being you. your attention. your eyes traveling his body. maybe, he was jealous of how you weren’t giving him an form of regard. your reactions were what he yearned for, and not receiving any in the last few hours was clearly something he could not allow.

so, as a result, he’d talk shit just to spite you. enrage you. make you give in to him. and surprisingly, he was successful. you were pissed off. it gave him such a thrill to see how worked up you were, glaring at him, eyes clouded with what he could only imagine was lust.

he never attempted to stop and think about if he should shut his mouth. not once. per usual, he didn’t think about the consequences to his actions.

you’d do something about that soon.

after your lesson with neytiri was over, without any hesitation, you brought jake out into the forest, where neither of you could be heard by other na'vi. hopefully.

“you really need to learn when to shut the hell up.” the sudden outburst made jakes ears twitch downward, yet he still kept that assured demeanor on display. “aw, did i hurt someone’s feelings?” it’s like he was incapable of taking anything, or anyone seriously.

“jake, i’m going to,” you were quickly interrupted, “to what? fight me? i doubt you could even land a punch. you’re still getting used to your body — i’m already settled into mine. you don’t know what you’re doing, i do.” he said more, he always does, but you just blocked him out. you focused on his face.

how his lips move, how wide his puppy eyes were, how even in this body you could still easily tell that he was your boyfriend. your annoying, overconfident, bratty, beautiful boyfriend.

you let him talk for a moment more, before running a hand up his slim waist. that made him pause, stumble over his words, ears fluttering with interest. you didn’t spare another glance towards his face, paying more attention to how his lower half swayed — as if on instinct.

“weren’t, weren’t you just mad at me?” his tone was less cocky now, yet his confidence didn’t falter. “still am.” you spoke, then suddenly shoved him against the nearest tree. he loses his footing, but fortunately doesn’t fall, grunting once his back hit the trunk.

your name was said, but you didn’t listen, rather pressing your palm against his adams apple and wrapping your fingers around his throat.

you didn’t squeeze, never dared to put more pressure onto his neck, but the mere presence of your hand there had him struggling to breathe. “what, are you doing?” his heart skips a beat as your fingers dance along where his jaw and neck connect. you had such an affect on him, and you haven’t done very much.

“you’re, a dick. you know that? so much so that i, want to push you against the dirt,” you leaned in closer, lips nearly touching his ears. “and fuck you raw.” his tail twitched, almost wagging at your words. he wanted just that, you both knew by then. and, you were going to give it to him — but in your own way.

he’d turn his head a bit, an attempt to look at you head on. it was difficult to do with the current position he was in, so you’d back up only slightly.

“what’s stopping you?” that’d set you off, amusement pulling at your lips before you pressed them against his. the kiss was nowhere near innocent, tongues clashing within seconds. that battle was won by you, his mouth submitting to yours, letting you do as you please. you like this side of him. so bratty until you confront him, a show off until you touch him, give him the treatment he wanted — he deserved.

you pulled away when you couldn’t breathe, both of you panting softly before you move your palm, one gripping his hair and the other on his hip. you rearranged this position, only pleased once his back was facing you, his cheek and hands pushed against the tree. rather rough, he thought you were, the situation uncomfortable for him. though, you didn’t really care at the moment, and honestly, he didn’t either.

he wanted to be used, that’s why he started this shit in the first place. you were so focused on something that wasn’t him, and he couldn’t tolerate it, not for long.

as he was lost in thought, you had slid his loincloth down those thighs, ones that you adored, exposing him for only you to see. it’s not like the thin piece of clothing hid much, anyway. you couldn’t see his dick, but you were sure it was hard, straining, yearning for release. that much was obvious when he whined, quietly demanding that you get on with it; as if he had any control over you or what you determine to do with him.

you almost laughed, jake trying his best to be dominant and at the same time deliberately showing off his ass, back arching and tail lifting. in his head, he still held some kind of authority, while his body presented itself to you.

you would shift his stance, spreading his legs further, then taking your middle and ring finger and placing them onto his bottom lip. at first, he didn’t exactly get the message, until he curiously opened his mouth and you shoved your fingers inside. he let out a low gag, then allowed his tongue to lick between and along your digits.

he hollowed out his cheeks, beginning to suck as if it were your cock between his lips, choking whenever your finger tips hit the back of his throat. once you thought they were wet enough, you pull them out, watching as only a thread of spit connected you and him.

he seemed disappointed as you did this. he’s learned, because of you, that he enjoys oral more than he originally thought. but, that’s a story for another time.

your dry hand massaged his hip, the other rubbing just around where he wanted your fingers most. annoyance got to jake quick, giving you a snarky tone. “hurry up.”

this sudden change in attitude was unexpected, and your eyebrows furrowed. you thought he had given up this front already, and just let you take care of him. apparently, you were wrong.

“fuckin’, come on—” he could barely get the phrase out before he felt a stinging pain on his ass. he yelped, bordering on a damn whimper. you’ve never done that before, and shit, he wish that you had.

you felt a moment of regret, not sure how he would react to that as it was a heat of the moment thing — but your thoughts were shut down quickly.

“that- that all you got?” you let out a silent sigh of relief, jaw clenching a bit before bringing your hand down again. the smack was audible, his body jolting on impact. the moan he let out was choked on, his hands now gripping the bark of the tree he was stabilizing himself on.

he readied himself for another painful sensation, but instead felt something prod at and enter his hole. as no warning was given, jakes chest forced out a keen, tensing for a second before welcoming the intrusion.

you didn’t wait to add your other finger, making the man inhale sharply. no matter how tight he was, you found a way to move in and out, not giving him a break — a moment to take air into his lungs. his mouth was wide open, not caring for any noise that escaped him, or the drool that fell onto his chin and lower.

you played with him throughout, separating your fingers and stretching him out, easily finding and thrusting onto the source of his sensitivity. you unraveled him so fast, too fast, heat building in his stomach. he had no restraint, hand going down to his dick. which you, evidently, didn’t like, spanking him once more.

“don’t you fuckin’ dare.” he whimpered so loud at your tone, deciding to touch you instead. grabbing your biceps, forearms, anything in his reach. “‘m gonna cuh-come, g-gonna come,” barely understanding the stuttered words, you hum, one that rumbled, coming from deep within your chest — effecting him greatly, seeing as he came right then and there.

this was new. you wouldn’t go this far with fingering, making him come and all. you only bothered to finger him for preparation, as requested by him. he didn’t like wasting time on things other than your dick.

jake is rather vanilla when it comes to sex, sticking with the stuff he was familiar with, especially since you were his first ever boyfriend and he was almost intimidated by the other possibilities.

though, you have been talking about how you wanted to go further, try new things, push his boundaries — with his consent. he had to think about it, but in the end, he agreed. so, you took this chance, prolonging your time together, testing both yours and his patience.

you stroked your nails along his prostate, having him experience this orgasm for as long as possible. you stopped when he became lightheaded, body slowly going limp. and as his vision was clearing, you began to pull out.

he thought you’d finally fuck him then, a toothy grin complementing his face once he was conscious enough to do so.

though, he couldn’t get too excited, since you only shoved your fingers back into him. you instantly curl them, earning a wobbled moan, and gasps of protest, “no, no, cock, need your dih-dick, n-need it,” he tried to convince you, but you paid him no mind.

“i don’t think you deserve it.” at that, he sobs. degradation was something you found interesting. you’ve never seen jake, someone so stubborn and prideful, in such a state of distress over something so dirty. you should do this more often.

it was hard to argue with you constantly abusing his insides, but he somehow managed. even though he’s lost his ego, he hasn’t lost his determination. “i’m- i’m sorry, so sorry, plea-please. was doing, for attention, didn’ mean eh-it! promise, promise, pinky prom- fuh-uck!” tears were shed, jake coughing as he inhaled his own spit. god, he was a mess.

your motions were relentless, mind wondering how many orgasms you could get out of him with just your fingers. two? three? four? you wanted to find out. yet, you knew you wouldn’t be able to wait much longer, noticing how hard you’ve become over time. so, you made up your mind, wrist moving back and forth to support your fingers.

“one more, come again and you’ll get my dick.” he barely heard you, trying to regain his composure again and again and failing each time. his lack of response worried you, slowing down and allowing that demanding facade to fade away, leaning in close. “did you hear me, jake?”

it took him a few seconds, but the sudden pause in stimulation got him to concentrate. “ye-yes, sir. can do it,” the title made your tail lash side to side, lips pressing gentle kisses against his jaw. “that’s it, good boy, so obedient for me.” his body twitches, an already existing blush spreading to his ears. the check-in ended shortly, hand getting back to work on jakes approaching orgasm.

with the mix of overstimulation and you whispering praises, he didn’t last very long. “gonna, come, ah-gain, again,” no sentence was left uninterrupted, jake now relying on you to keep him up, trembling arms extending back and wrapping around your neck, nails reaching and scratching at your upper back. he needed something to grip onto, to remind himself that this was real.

yellow eyes were blown wide, pupils dilated as he came again, painting the tree in front of him. you, once again, drew out this feeling of euphoria. this time, you pulled out completely, letting him calm down from his high. he breathed in deeply, something he couldn’t seem to do for the last hour, then exhaled like he was shivering.

embarrassment eventually washed over him, jake hiding his flushed face in the crook of your neck. “dick.” it was stifled, but you knew what he said nonetheless. “you askin’ for it or are you callin’ me one?” that earned you a smack on the arm, since that was the only part of your body he could get to.

you hum, then shrugged him off, jake landing on the wood in front of him. he clung onto the tree, using anything as leverage so he wouldn’t collapse. finally, you’d take your loincloth off, letting out a sigh of relief once you were freed of your confinements.

as expected, you were hard, pre-cum gathering on your tip. you curse under your breath, inching forward and resting your dick on jakes ass. the weight made him gasp softly, a whine following, him now using one hand to grab hold of his ass and spread himself open. you could hear how he gulped, and the unsteady sigh after. he was flushed, nothing hiding how heat spread out from his face to his shoulders. he was hot all over, really.

his eagerness made an appearance, tail whipping around like a dogs would. though, it would stop, but just to wrap around your thigh. you snort, soon grabbing at his braid, tugging at it. he lets out a string of pleas; he’s already waited so long.

you pretend to think about it, an inquisitive hum given, just to draw things out. you would come to a conclusion, mumbling a soft “alright,” before rubbing your head along his rim. he attempts to move, to try and get you into him, but he was only met with a now familiar pain on his ass. he quivers under your touch, cussing you out in his head, not having the balls to be an asshole out loud anymore.

only a few more seconds pass as you decide to give in, spitting down onto your base and rubbing it along your shaft, up to the tip. you’d then press forward, putting more and more stress onto his hole until you sunk inside.

it was a slow process, you making it that way just to tease him, watching as he took you in inch by inch, piece by piece. he heaves, feeling every vein on your cock graze his walls. and while it was torture to never know when his ass was going to touch your hips, he still had a cock-drunk smile on his face. sharp teeth bit his lower lip, biceps flexing as he gripped a nearby vine.

eventually, you bottom out, jake clamping down on you as a response. he tried his very best to relax so you had easy access, but couldn’t help it once you were fully inside him, filling him. he never wanted you to leave.

“if you wanna get fucked, you’re gonna need to ease up on the clenching.” he felt unnaturally shy, your words making his ears fold back and redden. despite that, he loosened up, expecting you to start thrusting then.

but, nothing happened.

you didn’t move, only chuckling softly as he tried to look back at you. “are you going to move?” you beat him to it, jakes eyebrows raising. he knew what you were implying.

a soft cry came from him, hips shifting before he moved away from you, half of your dick dragging out of him. he’d sink back down, moaning out loud — and repeating this action.

it was difficult to go at the faster and rougher pace that he oh so craved, as his legs couldn’t even carry his own muscle by themselves at the moment. once he gave up on being independent, his hips go even slower so he could try and talk successfully, “need, h-help. can’t, can’t do it.” he felt almost ashamed to admit it.

but, that feeling quickly subsided as you combed your fingers through his locks, the soft touch contrasting greatly with how roughly you pounded into him.

he sounded so — vulnerable. it strengthened that urge to ravage him, making it impossible to ignore. your hips switch directions, looking for that specific bundle of nerves once more. it didn’t take long to find it, jake releasing a sob once you did, your thrusts ceaseless as you practically bruise his prostate.

his body presses forward with the force you use, chest scratching the skin of the tree, but he couldn’t focus on that now. the only thing he could think about was how deep you were; the sound of himself, you, and your pelvis hitting his ass filled his ears.

you came in close, breath skimming the side of his neck while you panted, with occasional growls that you weren’t even aware of given as well. they came without your permission, as if you didn’t have power over your own vocal cords. they only turned jake on even more.

maybe a little too much, even.

cum shot out of his dick, creating another mess over his previous ones. though this time, the liquid was thinner, almost losing color. overstimulation caught on fast, jake crying out, “so much, t-too much, can’t, too muh-ch!” you shush him, your rhythm slowing in pity. “i’m right there, jake. you’ve been so good, so good. be a slut for a few more seconds, will you?” your voice held empathy, thrusts becoming shallow.

he gave a mere nod. you continue your movement, relishing in how his warmth sheathed your cock. you words were proven true, it only taking seconds for you to empty inside him, thick cum stuffing him to the brim. a final, rather weak moan was elicited from him, eyes closing as you drain yourself.

after finishing, you both pant heavily, “jake,” you spoke, nose poking at his nape. though, he didn’t respond. “..jake.” no response. “jake?” you worried that he may have passed out, but to your relief, he hummed right before you began to panic.

“you okay?” your hands rub his hips and sides, gliding down his curves, soothing him. “mhm.” he couldn’t say much else, it looked like. yet, you still decided to ask, “did you enjoy it?”

he took a moment, gulping heavily before chuckling. it was a silent one, the sole reason you knew he laughed was by how his shoulders shook. “..hell yeah.”

Some thoughts on Izzy and why I’m sad people hate him so much without any consideration to his character history and the theme of the show.

Like don’t get me wrong, I understand the Izzy we have seen so far is…rough to say the least.

But here's the thing. We know that in season 2 we're going to get a lot of good character development from him, and I'm very excited about this.

“Izzy goes on a remarkable journey this season” says O'Neill. "He understands what love is and whom he's in love with."

“it's been quite demanding to be playing a man enraged by unrequited love, who's basically a hopeless romantic,"

Izzy is clearly struggling with some internalized issues. Internalized homophobia probably being one of them.

He's struggling with the fact he's devoted everything he has every day to Blackbeard. He doesn't understand why Ed is suddenly this open and emotionally available person for Stede, he doesn't know why stede gets that side of Ed and he never has.

Even Ivan points it out when he says “This is the most open and available I've ever seen him"

Im not saying Izzy's actions so far in the show are to be ignored or excused by any means but I think Izzy is dealing with emotions he was never taught how to deal with, how to recognize or even made to feel like he was allowed to feel them. I think we can kind of assume Izzy was raised to be a"man's man" and not to be "soft”

Even David Jenkins has said himself “a lot of what were taught about being a man is wrong"

What we're going to be seeing in season 2 is Izzy realizing this. Just as we've seen Ed and Stede processing through something similar in season 1 though maybe not as extreme. They were both raised by shit fathers who made it a point to tell them that being soft or gentle is a bad thing. That enjoying the gentler things in life is Un masculine. Like Stede's love for picking flowers, Or Ed's love for fine fabrics.

This is clearly something that real people struggle with in the real world everyday. What it means to be a Man, to be masculine.

I guess all in all what I'm trying to say is that yeah Izzy has been a shitty person for the most part so far, but he's dealing with a lot and trying to process through it. Like a lot of real people do on a day to day basis.

This show is about breaking the mold. It's about grabbing toxic masculinity and ripping it apart and throwing it in the trash.

It's sad to me so many people are quick to just toss Izzy aside like a one dimensional character who doesn't have his own trauma and pain. I think we’ve all made mistakes in life, things we wish we had known better than to do or say but just didn’t know any better of at the time. We should all be allowed to grow and learn and become better versions of ourselves.

Anyways, Thanks for coming to my izzy hands character development Ted Talk. I can’t say when I first watched the show that I thought I’d ever be an izzy fan but the more I dig into his character and the more I see fandom interpretations of him the more he grows on me.

Let’s talk about yandere, more specific yandere pure vanilla, earl grey, raspberry mousse and lilac cookie.

Pure vanilla cookie: is probably someone who is easily jealous and very possessive, probably use his reputation of being “kind” to hide his real intentions, stockholm syndrome is a must in his plans. Maybe a stalker

Earl Grey cookie: the guy who has, there’s no “probably “, he HAS a bunch of photos and a big shrine, that takes an entire room in his hotel. He will probably kidnap his “love”, by putting something in their tea, if you know what I mean.

Lilac Cookie: he stalks you, there’s no doubt, very sneaky, he is an assassin after all, if somebody is flirting with you, he will scare them away. If you have a boyfriend, say bye bye to him. Kidnaps you while you are at sleep.

Raspberry mousse cookie: just like Lilac cookie, but more out of the public, you can see glimpses of him in the middle of the crowd (because of his giant hat), will probably try to distance you from your friends, or interrupt a conversation between you and them. Kidnap? Maybe, he loves you, but he can’t destroy his family’s name.

sorry if I made you uncomfortable.

Ps: you can use them for future ideas if you want.

I am working on some yantober fics and this is exactly how i imagine them!

Im gonna add on to earl greys

Earl Gray: He worships you to no end. He puts a bouquet of your favorite flowers on the shrine before he starts working. If you were to ever visit the hotel (of course theres a specific room that has hidden cameras in it that only you can stay in) he would always convince you to stay another night, another night, and another night until you just cant take it anymore. Of course its on the house, your just his favorite! He basically kisses the ground you walk on. He always trying to have his hands on you, either holding your hand or its gently squeezing your thigh.

There was time your brought your one of your guy friends who was visiting the kingdom. Earl Grey was enraged. He prayed at his shrine to hope to see you today, but not with another man! He cant give you the room he always does, it has one bed and he wont allow you to sleep next to another man. His attitude changes because he thinks your just testing him to see his undying loyalty to your relationship friendship. He offers you both tea in the lobby at night, you think nothing of it because you do it all the time with him, what could go wrong!

Uh oh, the tea has a sleeping powder in it! You wake up tied to chair. You see pictures of you all around the room sleeping, changing, doing your hair, eating, showering, smiling, and more. You then see the bloody body of the man you were with. Earl Grey is behind messaging your shoulders and telling you “this is for the best, this is what you wanted right? Wanted me to prove I do anything for you, right? You brought this upon yourself, you made me do it. This isnt my fault.”

saw something from someone i don’t follow that really enraged me and i can’t just respond to it bc that’s unhealthy so instead i’ll give my two cents here and then block them so im not stuck angry. sorry i’m doing this to you guys but no one is awake.

someone in the DID tag (yes im doomscrolling don’t talk to me) made a post expressing how they were angry that survivors with more “socially acceptable” trauma responses/who are less angry and who don’t have personality disorders throw other survivors under the bus. i think that part can be true and is justifiable to be angry about.

what i took issue with was them calling people who become extremely softspoken/quiet/meek for survival reasons “soft” and “weak,” and using the phrasing “little bitches” in reference to this group looking down on people with PDs, because that’s a fucking horrible thing to say about symptoms of trauma. they went on to claim that these people act “better” than survivors who end up, in their own words, “extremely toxic.”

like, i’m sorry, if you knowingly treat other people like garbage you ARE an asshole and DESERVE to have that behavior called out. no one should be demeaned for justifiable, contextually-appropriate anger, even if it’s unpalatable or extreme, but being “toxic” as far as i’m aware is synonymous with just mistreating people for no good fucking reason. and like, yeah, if you take your anger from trauma out on everyone around you for no goddamn reason other than that you can, you ARE a piece of shit and you need to stop. i think when it comes to traumatized people and people with PDs everyone deserves some degree of grace and understanding for difficult behavior. you guys know i frequently get EXTREMELY enraged and say stuff i later find really out of line and am uncomfortable with having said. i also don’t think I’m like, magically allowed to take that kind of behavior and make it TARGETED toward specific people or to behave that way toward my loved ones because Well Trauma. nope! still accountable for my actions.

i feel like it’s too close for comfort to how abusive people in my life have clearly thought. like, “I went through a lot of abuse so I can act however I like because I earned it.” both my parents were abused as children and both of them had some of this going on. they were bad people because they felt it was acceptable to be as hurtful as they wanted out of some twisted idea that their feelings and pain were the only things that mattered.

i know trauma puts some ugly, aggressive thoughts in your head. i have them all the time. that doesn’t make it okay to act on them with people who don’t deserve your anger, or sometimes at all, depending on the situation. choosing to treat other people badly with full awareness that you’re being hurtful is bad. that is a bad choice to make. it IS better to not mistreat the people around you, and not mistreating people DOES make you a better person. trauma is an explanation but cannot be used as an excuse when you’re just being a dick for no fucking reason. like, what the fuck?

heeeyyy ive been thinking abt colin a lot and wondered like how it would be to have make up sex with him? After they had a huge fight then they have angry sex and then (still rough and hot) make up sex in the morning?

Im not sure if theres a difference between angry or make up sex but yeah

Hot Tempered (Colin Zabel x fem!Reader)

wordcount: 5.1k warnings: NSFW, penetration, giving and receiving oral, swearing, verbal arguing and a little bit of physical conflict

Yours nails scraped harshly on the surface of your kitchen table as you snatched up your phone, Colin’s face frozen in an irritated frown as you glanced back at him. His chair scuffed against the hard wood of the floor as you spun on your heel, heading for the door and the stairs beyond. “Y/n.” Colin’s voice was rough as he called after you, his long strides closing the distance between you as he reached out for your arm. “No, Colin.” You spat, whirling on him and wrenching your arm from his grasp. “I’m done talking about it, just fuck off.” His face fell, all of his agitation dropping from his features at the ferocity with which you cursed at him.  Your anger doused any guilt that should have swarmed you as the creases of annoyance on his face instantly smoothed over, his arm falling limp at his side. “Sleep down here.” You ordered firmly, turning once more and making your way to the stairs; your footfalls were heavier than intended. Shoving the door to your shared bedroom open with a shoulder, you flopped face first on the bed, gripping your pillow and smothering your face into it. Tears of hot frustration leaked from your eyes, dampening the fabric beneath your face as you clutched onto it, replaying the screaming match that had just occurred between you and your fiancé. It was undoubtedly the worst argument that the two of you had ever had.

From below, you heard the front door opening, closing harshly a second later.  You lay on the bed for several long minutes, the pillow clutched to your face staunching the flow of your tears. Only when your phone buzzed beside your head did you lift your face out of the confines of the pillow, the sudden light burning your teary eyes as you glanced at the screen as it lit up with Colin’s name. 

I won’t come to you until you’re ready to talk. Message me whenever that is.

You chucked the phone to the bottom of the bed with a soft sign, rolling onto your back and rubbing your hands over your face. Why did he insist on always being so patient? For whatever reason, his generous offering of space refuelled your anger, anger that was perhaps directed at yourself this time. Another hot tear squeezed its way out of your eye, rolling down the side of your face and disappearing into the hair at your ear. Swiping the wet trail away, you pushed yourself off the bed, storming for the bathroom and wrenching the faucet of the shower, causing scolding water to pour. You didn’t allow the water to cool, shucking off your clothes and stepping under the steaming torrents; it hit your skin in fiery relief, leeching some of the anger from your body and carrying it up into the space of the bathroom as steam, condensing and dripping in cool droplets off the mirrors and windows. You emerged from the shower half an hour later, the adrenaline of your argument having worn off entirely, a heaviness settling over your body in its place.  Your clothes remained in a heap in the centre of the bathroom floor, the fabric dampened slightly by the clouds of heat from the shower.  Sleep tugged at your eyes and you glanced at the alarm clock on your bedside table: 23:17. You obeyed the heaviness of your eyelids, allowing it to steer you towards the bed, flopping down onto its softness once more, the sheets cool against your warm skin, a comforting embrace in the place of Colins.

When Colin returned home, creeping warily up the stairs and softly pushing open the door to your shared room, it was almost two in the morning. He had gone to the office, taken his spare keys and lounged at his desk for hours that seemed to stretch away into eternity. His anger at you and your unforgivingness had long since softened, dripping away into pools of regret and willingness to compromise; he couldn’t even recall who had started the argument and what is was about.  But looking at you now, your naked body stretched out atop the covers, your torso expanding with each laboured breath you took, any thought of the argument slipped from his mind’s grasp.  Tugging off his coat, he hung it on the back of the door, reluctant to take his eyes off your sleeping frame for too long, your arms grappled around your pillow, your body softly curving across the bed. On tiptoe, he approached you, sitting gently on the bed beside your waist. Your eyes were closed lightly, your lashes fluttering slightly in sleep and your mouth cracked open in a soft part. He exhaled through his nose, rubbing his hand on the thigh of his jeans to ensure that his palm was somewhat warm before placing it tentatively on your waist. When you didn’t stir, your laboured breaths unfaltering, he began to move his hand down to your hip and up to your rib, trailing his fingertips along your sleep warmed skin tenderly. When you finally stirred, a small noise cracking out from the back of your nose and your legs shifting, you forced open one eye to see Colin surveying you carefully. You pulled open your other eye, blinking at him in an attempt to clear your sleep fogged vision; his lips tugged upwards in a small, surrendering smile. You let your eyes fall shut once more, sighing through your nose before shifting onto your back. Colin’s eyes dipped once, taking a thirsty scan of your exposed body before going back to your sleepy face, his smile widening when you held out your arms to him. He accepted, shuffling forwards before folding over you in an embrace, smiling into your bare chest as you folded your arms around his shoulders. You savoured the feeling of his hair brushing softly against your collarbone, sighing into his weight and allowing your eyes to drift shut once more. Colin’s head shifted, his cheek coming to rest on your chest; your skin was warm and soft beneath him. He allowed more of his weight to spread over you, your hips pressing into his as he flattened himself fully onto you. You cracked open one eye as he fell still once more, his breath coming out hot on your skin. You were glad he didn’t say anything, content to bask in his presence and indulge in his warm weight on top of you. The room fell into silence once more, sleep crawling back into your reach. You grasped for it, your arms slackening in their hold around Colin’s shoulders. The shift of his head against your skin pulled you away from the desired slumber once more, Colin turning to press a kiss to the space just above the valley of your breasts, his lips warm as they brushed against your skin. You stayed motionless, hoping that he would think you were asleep and let you be. But of course, he wouldn’t let that happen. He repeated the simple action of pressing a kiss to your skin, this time with more persistence. He lifted his head to regard you when you remained immobile, a small frown painting his forehead with creases. “Y/n?” You opened your eyes as he addressed you directly, glancing down at him. “Yes?” You muttered, your bad mood threatening to take over once more with his persistence. You just wanted to sleep. “Are we going to talk about it or...?” “Honestly, Colin. I would rather not.” You responded flatly, shutting him down. He pushed himself off you at you short reply, sitting back and running his fingers through his hair. “Well I want to talk about.” He pushed, his voice gaining a shade more strength. You surveyed him blankly before rolling onto your side, turning away from him and bringing your legs up to your chest, allowing your eyes to shut once more. “Y/n. Are you serious? I left the house for god knows how long; I’ve given you space. Talk to me.” “I don’t want to talk about it.” You uttered, voice muffled by the pillow you had buried your face in. “Well I do, goddamnit.” He spat, his prior agitation returning in hot waves as you continued to dismiss him. Led by his fresh anger, he reached out, taking ahold of your forearm and pulling harshly, forcing your body to twist in his direction.  Your eyes filled with furious surprise as he made you turn to him, recovering a second later and ripping your arm from his grasp. “Fuck this, Colin.” You spat, sitting up and scooting to the edge of the bed. Your feet brushed the floor as you made to push yourself to standing but Colin was too quick, a potent wave of utterly irritated disbelief filling him; wrapping his arms around your torso, Colin threw you back onto the bed, the sheets soft against your skin as you landed, Colin moving to kneel by your chest. Your glowered at him, pushing yourself onto your elbows. Colin’s face intercepted your path, appearing before you, an angry hue staining his cheeks. “Why are you being like this?” He demanded gruffly, your noses close to touch him. “I’ve told you that I don’t want to talk about it.” You ground back, standing your ground, refusing to balk from his mounting fury. “So what? We’re just going to pretend that it didn’t happen?” He challenged, his dark eyes boring into yours intensely. It wasn’t often that Colin presented this side of him to you, the side that had drawn so many confessions from suspects in his line of work. “Yes. Yes we are -” “No, we’re not.” He cut you off, his nose brushing yours slightly as he leaned in even closer, his upper lip curling into an enraged snarl. “You don’t get to just tell me to fuck off and then refuse to speak to me about it.”  You fell silent at his words, realisation of how unreasonable you were being washing over you. But you could’t back down now, your pride wouldn’t allow it. “I can do what I -” Colin’s lips crashed onto yours, your noses fully pressing against each other as he closed the small distance between your faces, stealing your next words as he cut you off once more. A small squeak of surprise emanated from the back of your throat as Colin, instead of pulling away to continue round two of the argument, titled his head to deepen the kiss, running his tongue along your lower lip once in warning before flooding eagerly into your mouth. The kiss was demanding and punishing, roving thoroughly around your mouth, your tongue struggling to keep up with his as he ran is across your own, making strokes across the roof of your mouth with the tip, drawing shudders from your naked body. He leaned in more, his hands finding your shoulders and running down your spine, meeting at the small of your back and lowering you fully to the bed. His hands trailed to your hips as he lifted a leg, shifting to straddle you. You were torn between shoving him off and gripping onto the front of his shirt to pull him closer. Settling on the latter, you reached for the soft fabric, your fingers grappling into the material and tugging, forcing his lips to form a tighter seal around your own. He groaned at your roughness, one of his hands moving slowly up from your hip, across the plane of your ribs and around the curve of your breast to your throat. He pressed his thumb into the hollow of your neck, sighing at the pulse he found fluttering there as you lifted up your hips slightly beneath him, silently screaming your mounting need at him. His thumb remained at the base of your throat as his tongue made another thorough sweep of your mouth, your hands releasing the front of his shirt, only to attach to the buttons holding it closed, fumbling with them in your feverish need to have his bare skin against yours.  Colin’s annoyance was only mounting with your drawn out kissing, your fingers stumbling in their hurry to free him of his shirt. He pulled away suddenly, your head lifting off the pillow of its accord, trying to follow his lips. Sitting back on your hips, Colin’s face was flushed with a rosy hue as he ripped apart the last of the buttons that you hadn’t been able to undo, both of your uneven breathing filling the room as you lay beneath him, reigning in your impatience and watching as he started on his pants. The clacking of his belt as it was pulled it undone drew a quiet groan of anticipation from the back of your throat, the subsequent sound of Colin’s zipper drowning out the weak noise. He fell back down onto you, one of his hands spearing into the pillow next to your head, the other reaching down to wrench his pants down his legs, taking his underwear with them. His hand fell onto your upper thigh, his eyes flicking to bore into yours as his made a tantalizing trail with his fingertips up the inside of your thigh to your aching core, allowing his nails to dig into your soft skin ever so slightly.  You let out an unsteady exhale as he drew a line straight through your awaiting cunt with a single finger, letting out a stunted groan of approval at the wetness he found there. You braced yourself for his engorged cock as you lay still beneath him, staring up at him as he made another exploratory sweep of his finger through your folds, your juices gleaming on his fingertip when he pulled his hand away. You opened your mouth, readying to scold him for suddenly taking so long when he sat back, providing you with the view of his swollen cock curving towards his stomach, its head purple and weeping creamy precum.  You arched your back slightly in a gesture of indignation, pushing your tits up in the hopes of luring him back down on top of him. Instead, much to your annoyance, he pushed himself to his knees. You could’ve drooled at the sight of his cock bouncing slightly with the movement, your hands coming to cup your own tits as your tongue made a sweep along your lower lip. Colin, who had taken a second to admire your body below his, the goosebumps smattered across your skin, your hair fanned out across the pillow beneath your head and your eyes, lustfully dark and still half-lidded with sleep, reached down, taking your waist in his hands and pulling you up, twisting your torso. He manipulated your body, forcing you face down on the bed. You immediately lifted your hips up, waving you ass in a beckoning gesture as Colin settled back over you, aligning himself with your entrance, his tip pushing in ever so slightly.  He paused here, causing you to hiss in impatient agitation, your arms lifting to gather the pillow beneath your head under your chin, arching your back in order to give him better access. Your face buried into the pillow with a deep, placated groan as he finally pushed himself all the way into you. Pulling out immediately, Colin sunk himself back into your cunt, taking his time to fill you thoroughly before setting about fucking you at a steady pace.   “Oh god.” You gasped when Colin began to thrust at an established pace, hard and deep, drawing out of you slowly, only to slam his fullness back into you. “Oh fuck.” The intensity with which he immediately started to fuck you made your fingers and toes tingle, your pussy being gloriously stretched open. Your moans were broken and breathless as Colin pounded furiously into you from behind, small sounds of pleasure squeezing their way through his tightly gritted teeth as he took you thoroughly. You groaned, your fingers gripping onto the pillow beneath you as he repeatedly slammed into you with such force that your body moved up the bed, the covers creasing around your body. His hands quickly looped under your thighs to pull them up, positioning you so that your ass was in the air but your chest and face remained pressed into the bed. Your the muscles in your back strained, aching slightly at the harsh angle that Colin positioned you into but the dim pain barely registered as he continued to pound into you from behind, pushing your body further and further into the mattress with each stroke. “Oh. Oh, Colin.” You groaned luxuriously, your name on his lips only fuelling him to go harder, faster, deeper. Just when you began to gasp, slightly overwhelmed by the pleasure that he was abundantly giving you, tears pricking at your eyes, Colin, with a shuddering breath, released your upper thighs and planted his hands onto the hot skin of your back, his fingertips digging into the planes of your back, his nails clawing into your skin. You squeaked his name as your pleasure began to mount, each one of his frenzied thrusts ripping a layer from the ball of ecstasy glowing in your stomach, the release hidden at the centre Colin’s goal as he pushed you further and further to climax. Your eyes rolled shut, tears of utter pleasure burning them as you bit down on the pillow, your pleasure building, building, building, Colin’s thrusts punctuated by his own rough groans of gratification as he, too, neared climax. Your body went rigid beneath Colin as your orgasm slammed into your body, sending waves of unforgiving pleasure rippling through your entire being. You almost screamed at the force of your climax, Colin muttering encouragements through gritted teeth with each forceful slam of his cock into your pussy. Your fingers fell away from the pillow you had been grasping, grappling with the sheets pooled around your writhing body instead as you gasped for air, Colin’s hand coming around to grab your chin, forcing your teeth to release their tight hold on the pillow and holding your face so that your neck was craned upwards towards the ceiling. You couldn’t seem to gain control of your eyes as they rolled back again and again, each of Colin’s thrust punctuating the aftershocks of your orgasm as you struggled to come down from your high. But he didn’t stop. And it was all you could do but keep gulping down breaths of air in time to his wild thrusting, his hands settling on your hips to pull you further onto his cock. Your fingers shook from where they clenched the bed sheets pooled around you, your legs trembling so violently that it was a miracle you didn’t collapse fully onto the bed. Your gasped moans turned into high-pitched whines, the sudden sloppiness of Colin’s thrusts as his hips snapped relentlessly into you signalling that he, too, was dangerously close to coming undone. He grunted your name and with one last punishing drive of his cock into you, he fell forwards onto your body, his teeth finding the side of your neck and clamping down as he spilled into you, rocking his hips in order to draw out his pleasure.  You were whimpering, his moans loud at your ear, muffled by the tender skin he held in his bite. He released his hold on your hot skin as the last of his seed shot into you, taking a shuddering inhale and moving his lips to press a kiss to your shoulder. You were still heaving down gasps of air when he pulled out, your head falling back onto the pillow beneath you as he released his hold on your chin, collapsing away from you and onto his side of the bed. Your back gave out, your ass bouncing slightly as it, too, fell onto the mattress. You turned onto your side, your mingled wetness coating your thighs as you moved, staring at Colin with hooded eyes. He offered you a tentative smile. You returned it, reaching out a hand and taking his, squeezing his fingers affectionately. “Fuck you.” You breathed at him, playful intent sparkling in your exhaust clouded eyes. “Yeah, fuck you too.” Colin offered in response, bringing your joined hands up to his mouth and brushing his lips across the back of your fist. “Sorry.” You added quietly, your blinks slow and heavy as you struggled to keep your eyes open, sleep beckoning you to fall into its embrace. “I’m sorry, too.” Colin agreed, reaching over to pull your body to his, peppering your face with kisses before untangling himself from your hold and standing, retrieving his shirt from the floor before pacing for the bathroom.

You were awoken the several hours later by the watery light of the morning filtering through the blinds of your bedroom, Colin’s body a warm presence behind you. His arms were twined around your abdomen with his face buried in the crook of your neck, his puffs of sleep infused breath settling onto your skin. You shifted slightly, bunching the covers up beneath your chin with a sigh of contentment and pushing your body further into Colin’s. He stirred at this, the steady rhythm of his breathing interrupted as your movement dragged him from his deep sleep. His arms tightened their looping hold around your abdomen and you turned, craning your neck to plant a kiss on the top of his head. Pulling his face from your neck, he offered you a sleepy smile, his eyes barely cracked open against the natural light infiltrating into the room. “Good morning.” You mumbled, your breath stale and voice weak from lack of use. “Morning.” He murmured back, his chin settling onto your shoulder as he gazed at you. You smiled sweetly at him, disrupting his hold on your waist to move onto your back, Colin drinking in the view of your side profile that you offered him. A dim ache glowed from between your thighs, an ache that you savoured, your eyes fluttering closed with a soft sigh as you recalled the ferocity with which he had fucked you. Your lower lip caught between your teeth at the memory, Colin’s curiosity peaked as he tracked the movement. “What are you thinking about?” He mused quietly. You turned your head to look at him, debating whether to lie or expose to him how much you enjoyed the rare appearance of his rough side the night before. “I’m thinking of you fucking me.” You shrugged, forcing a shade of feigned innocence into your tone. Colin drew in a breath, his eyes opening fully at your words. “I’ve been thinking about that too.” He admitted in agreement. You snapped your head to his, your neck stiff. “Really?” You asked. Colin nodded, the full weight of his chin settling into your shoulder as he relaxed fully into you. “Did I look pretty from behind?” You pressed quietly. Colin lifted his head to survey your full face. You settled your head further into the pillow, blinking easily up at him. “You looked very pretty from behind.” He confirmed, his morning voice rough and low, coming out almost like a purr. You reached up, running your fingertips softly down the side of his face. “I want to do it again.” You admitted, your eyes flicking from his eyes to his lips. His low chuckle of response sent sparks of arousal skittering through you, drawing some wetness to gather between your thighs. “Where are your manners?” He tutted playfully, moving swiftly to straddle you once more, the covers lifting around his shoulders as his hands found your face, cupping your cheeks in his sleep-warmed palms. “Please.” You added, allowing your gaze to become doe-eyed as you stared up at him. His lips curved into a small smile, his head cocking slightly to the side as he lowered his face to yours, catching your lips in a fleeting kiss. You melted into the kiss as his hands moved from your face, trailing lightly down your sides before settling on your hips. Disconnecting his mouth from yours, his moved his lips down to your chin, pressing several kisses from there to the hollow of your throat. You tipped your head back, exposing the column of your throat to him, gyrating your hips slightly under his weight as his allowed his lips to venture further, his kisses becoming hot and open-mouthed as his cut through the space between your breasts and to your bellybutton.  You shuddered beneath the soft brush of his warm lips, his tongue making occasional contact with your hot skin as he made a meandering track downwards, pausing every now and then to latch his teeth onto you, sucking your skin into his mouth. Your breathing became ragged as he reached your mons, kissing and nipping at the space just above your ever wetting cunt with maddening leisure. You reached down, allowing your fingers to tangle in his short hair and tugged persistently at the roots; the desired effect was achieved: Colin groaned, his breath hot on your skin, and detached his mouth from your mons, glancing up at you before repositioning his head and licking a long stripe up your aching centre. “Yes.” You groaned in blissful encouragement, the second stroke of Colin’s tongue causing wetness to pool, coaxing an aching sort of pleasure to spread across your cunt, your folds swelling in response to his ministrations. His hand settled onto your lower abdomen, holding your hips still as he buried his face into you, unleashing himself with ravenous intent on your clit. You mewled with pleasure, the sudden barrage of his tongue on your clit sending strong jolts of satisfaction through the entirety of your body. “Oh god.” You moaned, breathless as Colin continued to lap at your cunt, sucking and nipping at your clit. His fingertips nudged at your entrance and you attempted to push your hips up into them in encouragement, Colin’s low groan at your desperate efforts causing you to gasp and fall limp under him as the sound rumbled through your pussy. He pushed two fingers in, curling them instantly and expertly brushing the rough pads of his fingertips against the spot hidden within you that had your toes curling. You moaned his name, your pent up sexual need following last nights rough fucking of reluctantly proposed apology growing with each flick of his tongue and curl of his fingers. Colin’s cock twitched in response, his name falling from your lips fuelling him to push another finger inside of you, thrusting them in and out of you at a steady pace whilst his tongue worked tirelessly on your clit, each stroke, circle and carefully calculated nudge of his tongue adding fuel to the glowing bundle of pleasure forming in your lower abdomen. You tugged on his roots in needy encouragement, his generous attentiveness of your pussy both not enough and too much.  “Yes, yes, yes. Colin.” A wave of heat rolled through you as your release neared, Colins fingers quickening their pace in your pussy as his tongue maintained its steady lapping at your wetness. “Colin,” his name was a drawn out moan falling from your lips, your head turning to the side, pressing your nose into the pillow beneath you. He hummed onto you, the pace of his fingers slowing as he held them deep inside of you, twitching and curling his fingertips. Your eyes rolled at the intense sensations that his change in technique sent sparking through you; the sudden tension that settled over your body only spurred Colin on, his fingers remaining buried deep within you as his tongue worked fervently, licking you closer and closer to your release.  Your head tipped back, pleasure pooling in your loins. “I’m gonna cum.” You announced on a breathless groan. At your words, Colin groaned his approval, his fingers once again quickening their pace, curling and twisting within you. He indulged in the string of continuous moans that fell from your lips, savouring the feeling of his tongue running across your clit as he finished you off, your body bowing entirely off the bed as your grip in his hair tightened, a wave of considerable pleasure slamming into you. His name was a drawn out moan on your lips as he licked you several more times, helping you through the orgasm that had your eyes rolling and your toes curling. Your thighs clenched deliciously around his head, Colin’s own moan of satisfaction vibrating through the electrified surface of your pussy. When your body collapsed back onto the mattress, the pupils of your eyes re-emerging with a gasp, Colin gripped onto your thighs, pulling his head from your heat and gazing upon your sated body, the scent of your arousal drifting up to meet him from between your thighs. You glanced down, the sight of his swollen lips coated with your cum causing a ball of fresh need to form in your lower abdomen. You blinked slowly down at him, a satiated smile spreading across your face. He grinned up at you, moving to cover your body with his once more, your hands falling onto the pillow at either side of your head as his lips met yours, the taste of your own musk coating his lips and tongue being passed onto your own. Pulling away, he placed a loving kiss on your nose, grinning down at you. “Do you forgive me now?”  Reaching up, your brushed the short strands of dark hair away from his forehead before answering. “I forgave you as soon as your cock entered me last night.” You mused softly, his eyes gleaming with arousal as they bore into your own. “Likewise.” He agreed, lowering his face to yours once more to lay a tentative kiss to your lips. Your hands found his shoulders, your lips curling up against once another as you pushed, Colin aiding you in flipping him onto his back and allowing you to straddle his torso. Permitting your fingertips to trail down the strong planes of his stomach, you leaned in, nipping at his earlobe before whispering, “I need to make sure that you fully forgive me.” Drawing away, Colin’s eyes were alight with aroused curiosity, pulling in a sharp breath when you moved further down his body, ensuring that his clothed erection scraped against your still throbbing heat as you positioned yourself on his thighs, pulling his cock free.  Colin gazed down at you, raising his arms to tuck them under his head, your hand closing around his shaft. You ran your thumb along his slit, gathering the bead of precum that had formed there before lowering your mouth to him.

taglist: @kitwalker02 @three-eyed-snail @forevercountess @kitwalkerangel @milly-louise @thecountessesglove @undeadcortez @kitwalker64 @samsassinparvismagna @xmaximoffic @divineruler @liandav @tatesweaterweather @evanmybeloved @tatelangdonsupremacist @ikkleroniekins (let me know if you want to be added or removed <3)

Just saw some people talking about how tfatws was crafted to make Bucky seem like more of a villain and unlikable for the fans and I think that another important factor of this is not only that it'll turn fans against his character, but it also means that these fans will go after other people who see through this bs and still like/defend Bucky's character. By convincing these fans that Bucky willingly worked for white supremacists and was culpable in the assassinations he carried out as WS, these fans now have a lot of ammunition to not only use against his character but any remaining fans of his. It sucks cause it's really gonna accomplish nothing except fracturing the fandom further (which let's face it, the mcu fandom is already one of the most fractured and toxic fandoms out there).

I see where you're coming from but I'm going to counter with the fact that this is giving Spellman's writing chops more credit than it deserves.

(Watch out, the salt is strong with this one, bring a glass of water)

I don't think he set out intentionally to make Bucky fans into fandom outcasts. That requires a level of subtlety, guile and flair I just don't see in the script - you only have to look to Sam's two important speeches to know how grievously his writing falls short.

What I see is a very immature and (as others have pointed out) unprofessional approach to writing, where he has not watched the first 3 Cap movies - or if he has, not bothered to take notes. It's clear he has no idea that Bucky was fighting against the Nazis before he became a POW. Sebastian had to remind the writers that Bucky was an assassin (did they think he was literally just a soldier?). It's also poignant to note that his belief about Bucky needing to make amends partially hinges on the fact that Bucky killed the Starks - so we already have problem #1 here when a Team IM scriptwriter is signed on to write for the new Captain America. They are already biased against what Steve and Sam stood for.

So his planning process is really this:

1) Bucky was an assassin for Hydra. He must feel guilty, so let's make him redeem himself by making amends. The reason I don't think Spellman intentionally set out to make Bucky indefensible is his genuine pride when he proclaims Bucky redeemed himself at the end by saving a van and being "ironically" adopted by a Black family. Bucky the Howling Commando who died fighting Nazis adopted "ironically" by a Black family. Bucky the guy who's been saving Steve's ass since the playground "first time being a hero".

Let me pause here and scream at the wall.

2) Bucky, as the character neither the director nor the writer likes, had to be the one to do all the shitty things.

I seriously mean it on this one, and I've been wanting to say it for a while.

Skogland said "everyone likes Walker". This is why - incoherently - Bucky had to play the privileged white male trope, because Walker needed a redeeming quality and that was his relationship with Lemar.

Let me pause again to go scream at the wall.

Never mind that this story should be about Sam and Bucky, and that it really should have shown us the affection and kindness between our leads, they couldn't bear to let Walker actually be a full villain so instead, they gave the privileged white male role to Bucky while Walker and Lemar actually have a functional friendship. ARGH.

Then we have the issue of needing to bring in Zemo, and redeem Zemo into an anti-villain. Zemo had to be likeable, more likeable than Bucky. So instead of allowing Zemo to just break out on his own (WHICH HE DID ANYWAY), they made Bucky go and get him out in order to break off his relationship with Wakanda.

And because they've given BUCKY the role of the ignorant white male within a story that addresses systemic racism, of course his actions become indefensible, never mind that all of this is completely inconsistent with his character.

Sorry this got long but the more I look at TFATWS from a writing standpoint, the more this series enrages me. It's not even that they cared enough about Bucky to systemically ruin him - it's because they really DGAF about Bucky so they just made him do all the wrong actions in the plot, in order to preserve their other precious characters.

Do You Trust Me?

Pairing: Arvin Russel x Reader

Summary: When Lenora finds out she’s pregnant and another girl turns up pregnant and murdered, Arvin and Y/N take matters into their own hands. 

Warnings: Violence, Murder, Sexual Assualt, Teen Pregnancy, Cursing, Mentions of Rape, Bullying, Dark Religious Themes, Talk of Abortion  DO NOT READ IF THESE BOTHER YOU (Very similar things to the movie)

Word Count: 7000

A/N: So Lenora doesn’t die in this but that part is instead replaced by the Reaster girl being found dead (I named her Jeanette... I didn’t remember if they gave her a first name)

A/N 2: I know I’m writing characters that exist already but like I feel like I’m going to Hell for writing this. Any other Christians feel that way about liking the movie?

___________________________________

Secrets were hard to keep in such a small town as Coal Creek. Everyone knew everyone and if one person saw something, the whole town knew about it by next morning. That’s why Lenora had kept her secrets with Reverend Teagarden from all except you. Other than Arvin, you were her only friend in the world. It felt nice to have another girl to talk to because as much as she loved her brother, it was nothing like having a sister. Though you weren’t related, just friends from school, it was the closest thing she had. 

The two of you had bonded over the harassment from boys at school. Unlike Lenora, you had no problem dishing back threats and abuse. You were more like Arvin in that sense, not always terrified that the Lord was going to smite you for defending yourself. You and Arvin were close too because of it. 

The day you two met, he’d gone to pick Lenora up from school one day to find the two of you cornered out back by Dinwoodie and his boys. They called Lenora ugly, as per their daily routine, and said they wouldn’t fuck her with a bag on a her head. Tommy Matheson had a paper bag held over her face, holding her down while she squirmed. 

“There ain’t nothing alive that would willingly let you touch them, Dinwoodie!” You spat while Orville Buckman held you back, his arms wrapped around your body, keeping your arms . pinned to your side, “You’re a vile thing. Hell, I’m sure a dead pig wouldn’t let you fuck it.” 

Dinwoodie spun around and blew a hard smack across your face, “Lenora here ain’t much different than that. But you on the other hand, I’d take you whether you wanted it or not. I like a girl with a dirty mouth. And lucky you, I won’t make you wear the bag.” 

He fisted your hair and pulled your face close to him, trying to force a kiss from you but spat in his face, a massive drip of saliva landing in his eyes and smaller particles spewed across his lips. “You nasty bi-” Gene Dinwoodie reared back, ready to hit you again when suddenly Arvin came out of nowhere, sending a solid blow straight into Gene’s face, sending him flying to the ground with a crack. 

Orville let you go to go after Arvin and Tommy did the same to Lenora. You ran over to her and pulled the bag from her head, seeing evidence of her silent tears all over her face. Once you saw she was okay though, you ran over to help Arvin, who had found himself dragged to the ground by the three boys. Lenora got up too, screaming for them to stop. 

“Stop!” You yelled, pulling at Gene’s arms to try and get him to stop kicking Arvin. He shoved you back harshly by the chest but you caught yourself, returning with a sharp blow to his face with your locked fist. 

The enraged boy smacked you even harder than before, sending your ass to the ground with thud that you knew would leave a bruise. Your hands and knees got skinned up as you skid slightly on the pavement. Lenora kept pulling on the boys too, begging them to stop but to no avail. 

“Ha, sister fucker!” The three of them called out to Arvin before leaving the three of you alone. 

“Are you okay?” You asked the boy that you hadn’t met before, who was curled up in a ball on the ground and holding his stomach. He groaned in response, trying to push himself up but requiring your assistance. “Thank you for what you did back there. I’m sorry this happened.” 

He stretched, flinching at the slight movement. He sent a small nod towards you but then turned towards Lenora, “I’m sorry I wasn’t here sooner, Lenora.” Words couldn’t describe the guilt he felt for allowing this to happen. 

“It-it’s okay, Arvin. It wasn’t that bad this time. Y/N here took the brunt of it, unfortunately.” Lenora turned to you, “‘M sorry about that, by the way. You didn’t need to step in for me.” 

You had stood up about the same time Arvin did, brushing as much of the dirt off your bleeding and scraped up knees as you could without flinching, “Those guys are ass holes, Lenora. I did need to.” 

Lenora piped up, “Oh, um, Y/N, this is my brother Arvin. Arvin, this is Y/N. She just moved here.” 

“It’s nice to meet ya.” You greeted the boy with a pained smile, your face hurting from the blows you’d just taken. 

Arvin nodded, “You too.” He paused for a moment, “Can I give you a ride home? I don’t need them boys catching up with you again on the ride home. Besides, your face is getting mighty red. I might have something back at my house to keep it from bruising up too bad.” 

You looked over at Lenora, sending her a questioning look, like asking if you could trust this boy who had just come to your rescue, which may have seemed like an odd inquiry to have since he just tried to take on the guys harassing you, but your encounters with boys in this town hadn’t gone all too well thus far. The girl looked unfazed though with almost a hint of excitement that you could possibly be going to her home. 

“Um, yeah, I’d like that. Thank you.” You tucked a messy strand of hair behind your ear before looking back up at Arvin to see that he was already staring at you. 

That was months ago. You’d gotten settled into Coal Creek by now and the abuse from Dinwoodie had stopped entirely after Arvin had gone full vigilante to beat the shit out of them all. Speaking of Arvin, the day he saved you and Lenora, he asked you on a date and the pair of you had been going steady ever since. If there was ever a couple to not be fucked with, the town had learned it was you two. 

This weekend, you’d gone over to the Russel’s home for supper at their Grandma’s invitation. It was delicious, as usual, as that woman had the God-given ability to produce miracles in that kitchen. As you all finished up, Uncle Earskell asked Arvin to help with something upstairs so he left without a second thought to help his kin. 

Lenora had been looking at you funny all night, as if trying to catch your eye. After helping Grandma (which she insisted you call her as well) clean up supper, Lenora pulled you off to the side, “Y/N, let’s go on a walk. I need to tell you something.” 

The weight in her eyes told you how serious this was so you just nodded, “Yeah, yeah, of course. Let’s go.” 

She grabbed a lantern on her way out the door and towards the barn. It was already dark, despite only being seven in the evening. Lenora led you out there and then closed the door before sitting on the hay. “So what is it?” You asked nervously. Normally, you would have made a joke but something told you that this wasn’t a joking matter. Anxiety buzzed all around her. 

“Y’know the new pastor? Preston Teagarden?” Lenora began, wringing her hands together and beginning to hide under her long red hair. 

You nodded, the question having an obvious answer as everyone, including your God fearing Mama and Aunt, went to church every Sunday. “What about ‘im?” 

“Well… um… y’see. We… we had sex.” She whispered the last word like it was the dirtiest thing she could fathom saying. 

Your eyes blew wide and your mouth dropped open, “You what?” You whispered back in shock. 

“Shh!” She held her finger up to her lips, “He said that to bear yourself as God made his first children was to truly turn yourself to Him.” 

You were having a difficult time processing this new information. Arvin and you had both agreed that there was something off about that new preacher since the first day you met him but you wouldn’t have guessed it was anything like this. “Lenora, that makes no sense. God sees everything. He’s already seen you in your birthday suit. He doesn’t need the preacher to see it too.” 

Part of you felt bad for the way you were reacting, especially when you saw the way your best friend shrunk back a little in embarrassment. Clearly, he’d manipulated her into getting what he wanted, using her faith as a weapon for her sexual exploitation, but of course she didn’t see it like that because his words were specifically tailored to get her to believe him. Now as you said these things, though, it was becoming clearer to Lenora that she had been manipulated. 

“That’s not all…” She continued. 

You held her arm gently, “What is it?” 

Her eyes got wide with fear, “You can’t tell anyone okay? You gotta promise.” Her hand covered yours, gripping tightly to ensure that you grasped the severity of the situation. 

You swallowed hard, honestly scared by her reactions to whatever was happening. This wasn’t like sweet, simple, calm Lenora. Nonetheless, you nodded, “I promise.” 

“I think I’m pregnant.” 

You actually choked, “What? Are you sure?” This was bad. This was so bad. 

Her eyes began to well up with guilty tears, “Yeah, I am. I was pretty sick a few weeks back. Couldn’t eat nothin’ cause I kept throwin’ up. And I haven’t had that time of the month in  two months.” 

“Two months, Lenora? Shit…” You whispered, leaning back against the hay. Even before moving to Coal Creek, you came from a small town in Pennsylvania where this had happened to a few girls. In fact, it wasn’t uncommon in that particular town. Your daddy had been a doctor before he died so you’d seen more than a few cases of teenage pregnancy. For Lenora, though, this was practically unheard of. Good Christian girls don’t have babies before marriage. “Did you tell ‘im?” 

Lenora’s breath shook, “Yeah ‘nd he said I was crazy and delusional. Just imaginin’ things. Said we never did nothin’ in the car. Then he said that I had to get rid of the baby or I’d be branded as the town whore with a bastard son. Even said it’d kill Grandma from the shame of it all if anyone found out.” 

“That is not true, Lenora. None of it. You’re not a whore and it would be best for everyone if that baby inside you was a bastard. That disgusting man isn’t fit to walk the Earth we live on, let alone be a father.” It felt like the blood was rushing through your veins with full force, internally panicking about the situation. This was a big deal and, unfortunately, you weren’t sure if Lenora was emotionally capable enough to handle it alone. She’d always been quiet and lonely and an easy target for cruel people. “Are you keepin’ it?” 

Her breathing shuddered as if she’d started crying, “I can’t kill the baby inside me and go on livin’ with that. But I don’t know what to do. I’m so scared,Y/N.” Lenora threw her arms around you and you held her as her body rattled against yours. 

“Shh, you got me, alright? Me and Arvin. And I’m sure Grandma wouldn’t be ashamed if she knew what Teagarden did to you.” You insisted but she shook her head. 

“You must think I’m stupid for believin’ that man.” She sat up wiping her eyes with her sleeve. 

“No! I do not think you’re stupid at all. That monster took advantage of you, told you things to make you believe that his dirty, lustful thoughts were vindicated by the Lord. And he’s going to fucking pay.” You were furious now as you began to stand up, unsure of exactly what you’d do but you knew you were gonna do it. 

Lenora grabbed your arm and pulled you back down, “No! Wait! Please-” 

“What’s going on here?” Arvin opened the door with a concerned face. 

Both you and Lenora jumped at his sudden intrusion but were even more nervous about what he’d heard. 

“How much did you hear?” Lenora asked her brother, rubbing her hands on her thighs. 

He walked in and slammed the door shut behind him, kneeling down in front of you and his sister, “That someone took advantage of you and Y/N was gonna make ‘im pay. Now what happened? What’s going on?” 

This was one of the things that you’d always loved about Arvin. He had this protective nature over what he loved, ready to do anything to keep his loved ones safe, whether that was his sister, his girlfriend, or his grandmother. His brown eyes held so much sincerity and understanding for his younger sister but also fear for what had been done to her. 

When she didn’t respond right away, Arvin looked over to you with questioning desperate eyes but you chewed your lip, knowing that it wasn’t your secret to tell. Instead, you looked back over to Lenora sadly and nudged her slightly. 

“C-can you say? Please? I don’t wanna say it again.” Lenora begged you quietly, avoiding eye contact with Arvin. Though you could never truly know she felt, you tried to understand all the emotions that must have been running through her. 

Arvin met your eyes, begging you to tell him what had happened. “She’s pregnant. It’s that Reverend Teagarden’s baby. Said that he told her that the only way to get close to God was to show him her in the form of Adam and Eve. But now he’s saying that she’s delusional and that it’s not his.” 

Arvin’s temper flamed inside his chest. That explained the Reverend’s intense sermon about delusion this last Sunday. Nobody did this to his sister and got away with it. “I’ll kill him. I’ll fucking ki-” 

“Arvin please-” Lenora tried to calm him but it was a weak attempt, still trying to stay quiet so Grandma wouldn’t notice.

“No, I’ll end his life for what he did to you.” 

You watched your boyfriend reel around, hands holding onto his hat. He was livid, understandably so. 

Lenora wasn’t quite sure why she wanted to protect Preston Teagarden after what he’d done to her but she thinks it’s that she was more concerned for her brother. Besides, no matter what Teagarden had done, did he really deserve to die for it? 

“We don’t have to hurt him,” You spoke to your boyfriend, “If she wants, she can just have the baby and we’ll help raise it.” 

“But he said it’s not his and that I’ll just be considered some no-good whore. He said it’ll kill Grandma. I don’t want to kill Grandma.” She was almost crying again at the thought of their grandmother ending up six feet under because of the shame of having her as a granddaughter. 

“He said that?!” Arvin nearly yelled. 

“But what if he’s right?” Lenora thought out loud, “I couldn’t live with myself if I got rid of the baby but I can’t risk killing Grandma. Maybe it would be better if I were dead-” 

“No!” You and Arvin both said firmly in unison. You held her hand tight and Arvin knelt down again. 

He swiped his thumb comfortingly across the back of her hands, “Don’t you ever say that. We have both already lost too damn much to lose each other too, ya hear me?” 

Lenora nodded, tears falling down her cheeks when she closed her eyes. 

“Why can’t we just ruin him? You can have the baby and let everyone know what he did. Everyone will know that he’s the father and it’ll destroy his life.” Arvin suggested, all of the miserable ways this could end for the man twisting his heart in sadistic pleasure. 

You shook your head though, “No, they won’t. It’s different for girls in small towns like this. Doesn’t matter what happened, you’re still the dirty no good whore, even if you were raped. The man is treated like a victim for even having the inkling of an accusation brought up.” After a few minutes, you suggested, “Why don’t we run off. We’ll all go to a new town, somewhere where nobody knows none of us. We’ll tell ‘em that your husband died in the war, leaving you with the baby. I’ll go with. I’ll help you raise it.” 

She shook her head, “But what about Grandma and Uncle Earskell?” She did have a point. They were both getting on in age and would need more help than they already did. 

You all sat in silence for a few moments, brainstorming ideas of what to do. Eventually, Arvin looked at his sister, “Don’t worry. We’ll figure something out.”

The three of you went back to the house for the rest of the night, knowing that everyone would be getting suspicious if you were out any longer. 

The three of you kept the secret quiet, barely even speaking about it to each other. You’d been doing as much research on babies in the libraries at school, which earned you quite a few disapproving looks from people who assumed that you and Arvin were expecting. You were serious when you said that you had every intention of helping Lenora and so was Arvin. 

Weeks had gone by with relatively no news. Well, that’s what the town thought at least. After finding out about what the Reverend had done to Lenora, Arvin had told you about his plan to watch him. 

The pair of you had spent several afternoons staked out near the church, watching as he went to the place of worship and then left at night. But then you started noticing a frequent visitor. Jeanette Reaster. The pair would drive off to a little secluded field and, sure enough, Teagarden would have his way with her. Though you couldn’t hear what was said, it was clear that they’d been praying beforehand before she submitted to him fully. Now, you knew Jeanette Reaster and, much like Lenora, she was the last person you’d imagine having premarital sex for the fear of being struck down by God. Whatever this man had said to them must have been real convincing. 

“Piece of shit…” Arvin leaned forward against the steering wheel of his car while you sat beside him. You both watched on as the Reverend laid the girl down and began his assault of falsely “holy” acts. 

For respect of Jeanette, you both looked away during the actual act but when you saw her ride off, Teagarden got out of his car, a bunch of fabric in his hands and sniffed them as he watched her. “That fucking perv. How does nobody know about this?” You asked, disgusted. Reaster was a good girl. She didn’t deserve this abuse. 

“We know about it.” Arvin said, putting the car in reverse, “And that’s enough.” Less than a week later, word got out that Jeanette Reaster had run off. Grandma had told Arvin and Lenora that her mother had said to her privately that Jeanette left a note saying that she was pregnant but the father refused to believe that he was the father. To spare her family the shame, she ran away and begged them to just say that they had no idea what had happened to her. That’s what her parents intended to do for their daughter’s sake but had entrusted Grandma with the secret just so they had somebody to talk to about it.

The day after she disappeared, they found her body on the side of the road just a few towns over. Nobody had any idea of what had happened except for you and Arvin. Both of you were convinced that Teagarden had murdered her to keep his secret from getting out. 

The anger that was held between you and Arvin both was unparalleled. In part, you both felt partially responsible for her death. If only you’d said something, maybe you could have saved her. But neither of you even knew she was pregnant. That monster did to her exactly what he had probably planned to do to Lenora. 

“We have to set things right.” Arvin said, sitting in his car one night with you in the woods, “That girl is dead and I can’t help but feel like it’s on me.” His head hung sadly, the weight of another death weighing on his heart. 

You shifted sideways in the seat, your jeans rubbing against the vinyl car seats. You placed a hand gingerly on his cheek, “This is not your fault. This is the evil of a wicked man.” 

“A girl is dead, Y/N. He got her pregnant and murdered her. He got Lenora pregnant and tried to convince her she was crazy. He’s taking advantage of innocent girls out here and then tying up the loose ends.” Arvin sat there, so much hurt behind his brown eyes. Then an idea dawned on him, “Do you trust me?” 

The question took you off guard and it showed but you answered honestly, “Yes.” 

** 

Perhaps being quieter in church was for the best for this particular scenario. You’d never been as religious as the rest of your family or the rest of the town, for that matter. But this morning, you found yourself on your knees by your bedside. “Lord, please forgive the things that I am about to do. Please understand that I do this with the best intentions of protecting every other girl to cross paths with Preston Teagarden and to avenge the death of Jeanette Reaster. I pray that you please forgive Arvin as well as I know he is a man with nothing but good and love in his heart. In Jesus’ holy name, amen.” 

Almost on cue, your mom knocked on the door to see you on your knees, “Arvin is out front waiting for you.” She announced with a warm smile, noticing your outfit, “You look nice, sweetie! Since when do you clean up all cute for that boy?” She teased, a loving smile on her face as you smoothed out your yellow dress that hung just below your knees. The sleeves were tight and went about halfway down your biceps. It was far from revealing with a neckline that stopped just below your collarbones but it still was tight enough to accentuate the shape of your concealed breasts. A brown belt was tied around your waist, showing off your figure. 

“Yeah, well I figured that for once I might as well dress up and do something nice.” The lie slipped out smoothly despite the racing of your heart in your chest. 

She pulled you in for a hug, “Well you tell Arvin that I want you back by nine tonight! I’ll be going over to Mrs. Hadderson’s for quilting today, just so you know, in case I’m not home when you get back.” 

You picked up your bag and pulled her into a side hug, “Alright, Mama. Love you!” You hollered, running out the door. Arvin was dressed normally, just his blue jeans and t-shirt, but he still looked great as always. 

When you slid into the passenger seat of his car, he perked up and looked over at you, “Not used to seeing you like this on any day but Sunday.” He attempted to joke but found it difficult considering what the two of you were planning on doing. 

After driving a ways down the road, he asked, “Are you sure you want to be a part of this? Because I can drop you off with Lenora and I’ll take care of this myself.” 

Looking over at him to see his eyes scanning your face for signs of hesitation, you placed your hand on his leg, “I’m not letting you do this alone.” 

Not too deep down, Arvin felt terrible for allowing you to partake in this. Death had always seemed to follow him wherever he went; he didn’t want you to be stuck with the same curse. The two of you developed a plan but Arvin had created a backup just in case you decided you didn’t want to partake, not that he would blame you. He was terrified beyond belief himself but he’d decided that for the sake of every other girl in this town and any other one’s Teagarden had harmed in the past, he had to do this. 

The only thing making him feel remotely at peace with your involvement was the fact that you weren’t actually doing the killing. You were the diversion, he was the trigger man. Arvin sighed, relenting to the fact that you were in on this, “Did you bring the rope?” He asked, eyes flicking over to you and your bag between glances at the road that moved beneath the wheels of his car. 

You dug around in your little bag and pulled out a small length of rope, a weapon chosen for the lack of clean up. “Got it. You got the gun?” 

Arvin pulled his denim jacket back just enough to show the handle of the Luger that once belonged to his father. This weapon was chosen for its reliability. Once you guys started, you had to finish otherwise he’d tell everyone. 

Before you knew it, the tires were coming to a crunching halt on the rocky sideturn just around the corner from the church. A sudden wave of nausea came over you and you had to breathe deeply to settle it down. “You okay?” Arvin asked, reaching out for you. 

You swallowed hard, “Yeah.” Sweat began to bead up on your brow as a million different images of what could happen in the next few minutes ran through your head. 

Arvin watched as you zoned out on the dashboard and he knew exactly what was going on in your mind. It was the same inner conflict he’d had this morning before picking you up, when he first pocketed the gun.  “Whatever happens today, I need you to know that I love you Y/N.” 

You sucked a quick breath in. Neither of you had ever used the L-word before. Arvin was scared to because he’d lost so many people and the fewer people he loved, that fewer people he could lose. You had just never loved anyone romantically before and were too terrified that maybe you’d say it too early or think you felt it when you really didn’t. With Arvin, though, you knew it. “I love you too, Arvin.” You leaned forward and kissed him on the lips deeply, wanting nothing more than to stay against his skin for the rest of your lives. But, unfortunately, there was something you had to do first. 

“Remember, just get him to bring you to the field. I will be there waiting. I won’t let anything happen to you, you hear?” Your faces were close together, so close your foreheads almost touched, as he went over the plan one last time, trying to make sure that you knew that you were safe as long as he was around. 

“I know.” You gave him a small, reassuring smile, though it was far from a grin of actual happiness.

Arvin watched as you got out of the car, leaving the small bundle of rope behind, and walked down the dirt driveway to the church. You looked just like someone that pervert would fall head over heels for. There was an innocent sway to your hips and the way you held your bag close to your body screamed insecurity, but the kind of a young girl who doesn’t know how beautiful she is. The funny thing was that this wasn’t something totally out of character for you. Sure, you had a mouth and fist that could dish as much as it could take, and yeah, you and Arvin had been together for almost half a year, but there was still a youthful innocence to you. There was still a brightness in your eyes and a pep in your step, one that hadn’t been beat down by the tragedies of life yet. It was one of the things that Arvin found most attractive about you but it was also one of the things that Preston Teagard would as well. 

The doors of the church were cracked open just slightly when you approached and you could see the Reverend sitting in the pews, reading his Bible, through the gap. Taking one less final deep breath, you pressed the door open and stepped in, the heels of your little white chucks padding against the hardwood. Teagard turned around at the sound, “Why, hello, there.” He greeted warmly. It disgusted you how this man could act no different after knowing what he’d just done but the worst monsters were human. 

“Uh, hi there, Reverend. I’m sorry to bother but I just needed to talk to you about something.” You began, accentuated your Appalachian drawl while trying to make your voice sound as young and innocent as you could. 

He patted the pew beside him, “Well, my child, you’ve come to the right place. That’s what I’m here for. Now, why don’t you tell me what’s on your mind?” 

Skin crawling as you walked, you forced your feet to move towards the man and sit beside him. Right away, his arm stretched behind your shoulders as he sat uncomfortably close. At first, you avoided eye contact, “Well, um, you see, I’ve been… straying from the light and I really want to get right with God.” 

This had to be the first truth you’d told anyone other than Arvin today. You felt too terrible lying in the presence of God so you’d found a way to genuinely get your feelings off your chest while still luring Teagarden into your trap. 

He rubbed his chin and hummed, “The fact that you acknowledge this means you haven’t strayed too far. God always comes back to his flock, even to those little sheepies who’ve gone astray. Why don’t you tell me more.” He urged. 

Your hands squeezed the strap of your bag tightly, “I… I have lustful thoughts sometimes.” 

Preston was lucky he’d had a lot of practice concealing his emotions because he’d be lying if he said that those words didn’t stir something in him, “Now are these just thoughts or have you acted on them?” 

“Oh, just thoughts, Reverend. I’ve never acted on any of them.” You reassured, finally meeting his eyes. They seemed to look at you with such understanding that you could see why Lenora and Jeanette had fallen for him. 

He nodded in approval, “And who are these thoughts about?” 

This was where you’d have to do a bit more lying, “I don’t really want to say.” You blushed bright red. You knew that Preston must have taken this as a sign that it was about him but it wasn’t. Your dirty thoughts never strayed from Arvin. 

Preston looked away and then back down at you, “You’re going with that Russel boy, right?” 

Silently, you nodded, not wanting to incriminate your boyfriend too much in this process of confession. 

“Has he ever touched you?” Preston pressed, his body getting closer to yours inch by inch until your legs were nearly touching. 

The red in your cheeks wasn’t part of the act anymore but genuine. You shook your head, “No, never.” You felt almost panicked at the question. 

“Have you ever touched yourself to these thoughts?” His voice became slower, more cautious as his inquiries got riskier and riskier. 

You found yourself unable to maintain eye contact with him anymore and looked back down at your shoes instead, just shaking your head, “No, I feel too weird. Like it’s a violation or somethin’.” 

Preston looked away, as if considering something, before turning back to you, “Can I show you some place? I find it helps me feel closer to God when I feel like I’m goin’ astray. Perhaps I could help.” 

Hook and sink. He’d fallen right into the trap. With a shy nod, you agreed sweetly, “Yeah, yeah, I’d like that. Is it far?” 

Teagard shook his head, “Oh no, not too far at all. But I’ll drive so we don’t have to walk.” 

Getting him to drive you to the spot was just as easy as you imagined it would be. With a quick glance in the rear view mirror, you noticed a car in the far distance behind you that you immediately recognized as Arvin following. Preston’s car came to a stop in the same field you’d seen him take Jeanette Reaster to a few weeks ago, facing the woods ahead. 

It really was quite peaceful and would have been a pretty sight if you weren’t with a sexual predator. Again, his arm slid around your shoulders and you breathed in deeply, the intense sexual tension making you uncomfortable even though you had every intention of finishing him off before he even got a hand up your skirt. 

“You said that Russel boy has never touched you. Have you ever shown him yourself?” The fact that this man had the nerve to ask you such questions disgusted you beyond belief but you kept up the facade. 

“Like naked?” You clarified, seeing him nod, “No, not naked. We went to the lake one time so he saw me in my bathing suit then but that’s not exactly the same thing.” 

Preston chuckled at your naivety, “No, no, not the same thing at all. You know how you’re supposed to save yourself for marriage to be right with the Lord. But there is nothing that brings you closer back to our heavenly father than to be as Adam and Eve were in the Garden of Eden, the garden of pure paradise.” 

“How is that so?” You cranked up the childlike inquisitive nature as you looked up at him with big doe eyes. 

Preston had to fight the urge to take you here and now, looking at you like this, but he remained strong for the sake of the process. “They were made in his image. We all were but they were his original children. The pure, unaltered image of God himself, before the sin of man tainted it all. By showing yourself in your pure, unaltered image, you bring yourself closer to the light.” 

Your brows furrowed, “But didn’t you just say that premarital sex is a sin?” This may have been jeopardizing your mission but you felt inclined to point out the hypocrisy before you offed the man. 

He nodded, chest falling and rising with a heavy sigh, “It depends on who you’re with. I’m a man of God myself and I like to model myself after Jesus. I’d like to think that makes me an extension of His love and power and therefore an outlet for you to feel safe to do whatever you need to do in order to be right with Him.” 

With a shaky breath, you bit your lip, “Alright. H-how do I-?”

Preston watched as you fiddled with the hem of your skirt and let his mind wander to what else those fingers might be good at. “First, let us pray.” He reached over and held your hand, “Lord, Y/N is showing herself to you. See her Lord, as you made her. She presents herself to you. Give her strength. Amen.” 

“Amen.” You muttered after him, your fingers slowly going to unbutton your dress. This wasn’t how you’d imagined the first time a boy seeing you in your knickers going. In your mind, it had always been on a nice romantic evening with Arvin and a selfish part of you wanted it to stay that way but then you remembered why you were doing what you were doing and sucked down the reservations. At least you weren’t actually losing your virginity to the monster. 

Nervous fingers fuddled with the button for just a moment too long and Teagarden twisted sideways, hands coming to cover yours, “May I?” He offered his assistance. 

Your heart thumped so loud you could hear it but you nodded silently, letting your fingers fall onto your thighs. With deftly skilled fingers, he had your blouse unbuttoned before long and had pushed it off your shoulders. Your breath caught in your throat at this much exposure, your breasts just barely concealed under only the fabric of your bra. Lord, you prayed silently, please let this be over with quickly. 

Your eyes slid closed, trying to imagine that it was Arvin touching you instead of Preston Teagarden but then the mere thought of comparing the two made you sick to your stomach. They were nothing alike. 

A set of chapped lips kissed your forehead gently, then your cheek, and then, finally, your lips. At first, you drew back, but still kept your eyes closed, trying to mask the disgust with untouched hesitance. You forced your body to relax again and Preston took that as a cue to continue with what he was doing, his lips returning to yours. 

Wasting no time, he’d crawled over you until your back was flush against the seat. You placed your hands awkwardly and haphazardly on Preston’s shoulder’s, trying to feign inexperienced confusion. You and Arvin may not have ever gone all the way, but you’d at least gone this far. 

Preston’s lips moved down your neck and your breath got caught in your throat. As much as you hated it, he knew what he was doing. This man knew all the right buttons to push to make a nervous girl submit to his every desire and, though you were well aware of the game he was playing and had zero attraction to him, the physical reactions were almost impossible to stop. Your body shuddered when his stubble, something Arvin lacked, scratched the sensitive skin of your neck, sending a shiver down your spine. Your eyes were open wide now, just waiting for your boyfriend to finally show up and save you from this situation. 

Arvin approached the car and slowly and quietly as he could. The windows were up so it wasn’t too big an issue as long as he wasn’t clanging metal but he figured he didn’t want to take any chances. When approached the driver’s window, his heart wrenched and he immediately regretted putting you in this position. 

Preston was on top of you, his hands roaming all around your semi-exposed chest. He knew that you’d never been exposed like that to anyone before and he suddenly felt sick with himself for allowing the first time to be with anyone beside him, let alone Preston fucking Teagard. 

He expected to have to psych himself up for the actual kill, to have to convince himself to do it but when you locked eyes with him, a silent plea to get the man off of you, it came unnervingly natural. With the rope already wrapped around both of his fists, Arvin reached for the handle and threw the door open, looping the rope around Preston’s neck and dragging him back out of the car. Preston’s eyes were wide with shock and fear, “What the fuck?!” He hollered in fear, the words turning to gagging and choking. His hands grasped at the rope but Arvin had it pulled too tightly. 

Preston’s body was kicking against the grass but his neck and head were pressed against Arvin’s chest, who was kneeling in the field. 

“You really thought you could get away with what you did to my Lenora? To that poor Reaster girl you murdered? And then I bet you were willing to do the same to her over there too, huh?” He seethed, notioning over to you with a flick of his chin. 

The reverend tried to say something, anything to defend himself or get himself out of this situation but Arvin never let up so the words came out as disgustingly graphic chokes. You crawled out of the car, not knowing what you could do to help or secure the situation but feeling useless now. 

In a few minutes time, his lips had turned blue and the thrashing of his body had stopped. Arvin finally let up and the body slump into the grass. He crawled back and away from the man who had only moments ago been all over you, touching you. 

That was when he remembered that you were there still. He’d gotten so blinded by rage that he almost blacked out, caught up in the task at hand. But when he looked up, his heart began to beat again and he stood up, rushing to you, “Are you okay? Did he hurt you?” 

Your face was pale and blank, almost as if you were in shock. Your top was still totally unbuttoned, white modest bra still exposed to the world but you didn’t look like you cared at all. If Arvin was being honest, this wasn’t how he’d pictured seeing you topless for the first time going. He always hoped it would be romantic and with more than enough time to compliment every inch of your perfect body. Instead, you looked scared and shocked and almost like you could be sick. 

“Y/N?” He urged, coming stand between you and Preston’s body, attempting to break your view of it. He reached down and began to re-button your blouse for you. 

“I’m fine,” You said flatly, only moving to look up at him, “Are you okay?” 

With a glance down at his knuckles, the rope burn was clear to see, but Arvin had been through much worse, “Yeah, yeah, I’m fine. I’m so sorry that I let him do that. This whole idea was stupid and now-” 

“No,” You interrupted, finally snapping out of your shocked state and bringing your hands up to rest on his, which were on your chest now, “He can’t hurt anyone anymore.” 

Arvin didn’t actually feel remorse for killing the man. The only thing he wanted was to take you back home, or rather far away, where there weren’t any reminders of today’s events. He wanted to show you how special you were, how much he loved you, and how brave he thought you were for being willing to be Teagarden’s last victim for the better good of the world. 

Hii, I didn't know with whom to share this and then I thought of you!

This antis are giving me these 18th-19th century vibes when expressing independent opinions that clashed against the status quo was deemed a near crime. Ex- Anne with an E when the female teacher Miss Stacey is condemned for her unique knowledge and wearing pants and many more period dramas where a certain group of people are like - "Dishoner on your family!", "Disgrace to our society!", "Think of lil children!", "You learn what we teach you, must not impure your image with sinful opinion!", "You know nothing!", infantalization women, misogyny etc. and that has always enraged me. Just like how old tropes are subverted and then re-subverted bringing the former back, I feel like those 'traditions' are making their back here. And That is terrifying.

There does seem to be a resurgence of purity culture rhetoric and policing in fandom spaces and I also don't think that's coincidental considering all the terfy bullshit going around on this platform as well.

I was initially annoyed with people calling this "purity culture" because this is a term that usually refers to evangelical pearl-clutching about women's hymens but the attitude, arguments, and even policing about what is and isn't acceptable to ship in fandom is very similar to what I experienced growing up.

The problem is that culturally we are still very uncomfortable with women's sexualities. In church, women must not even have sex drive lest they get shamed for it. In fandom, women can only be attracted to whatever the fandom police deem "pure enough" or "acceptable". The fact that people can ship something toxic like Darklina or dare to have alternative character interpretations or wanted the narrative to allow Alina to be a little more evil or ruthless is too "problematic" to express. But the thing is, people's shipping preferences or fictional interests are just never going to be PC or good enough for polite society. That doesn't make them abuse apologists or evil people in real life. Are we going to go after BDSM community because they are "romanticizing abuse" next? Or harass actors because they like to play villainous characters? Because it's all made-up, it's a safe place for people to explore a toxic dynamic without the actual drama of one.

There's also this narrative that Darklina shippers are either (1) deluded little girls who need to be educated about the toxicity of their own ship or (2) old hags who are intruding on a fandom space that apparently has an age limit of 20 and need to get back in the kitchen. So we can already see the patriarchal assumptions in the narratives themselves: you are either a pure infantalized little girl who needs someone to tell you right from wrong or you're a grown woman who needs to do her womanly duty instead of participating in fandom. Gee, why does this sound so awfully familiar to me 🙄

Every other day, there's a new post in the #darklina tag from a "concerned" fan who feels compelled to talk down to shippers and say "Well, actually, the fact that you guys still ship Darklina after everything he did just proves Leigh's point that you're all stupid whores who would welcome abuse if it had a good jawline 😌". Or a "confused" fan who's compelled to say "How can people ship Darklina? Literally what is wrong with you? Are you fucked in the head to ship X with Y? I'm so glad I'm not like that uwu 😌"

Like, do these people have such little faith in women that they feel compelled to constantly cringe and post PSAs on the dangers of a sexy jawline? How little faith do they have in themselves that they are so obsessed with making sure a group of shippers (who have always acknowledged and always historically acknowledged the toxic aspects of their ship) are sent anonymous hate mail? That they think all this is okay because they can hide under the banner of "activism" and "concern for women's safety" or "think of the children!".

I've seen it all before in church. People who can't stand that others have a mind and body of their own or dare to have fun "the wrong way" and need to be reminded about their "true" social role in society. People who need to constantly slut-shame you because something about your actions reminds them of some part of themselves they are deeply ashamed of and can't acknowledge. People who are just looking for an excuse to be an asshole and are thrilled to hide behind "well im just helping silly little girls spot abusers" rhetoric.

Rune translations and Bottom theories (I did my best!) (: It's long! I mean REALLY REALLY REALLY LONG!!!! You've been warned. (Potential TWs below the cut) yeah Hyoga doesn't have a good time here.

I should probably start calling Hyoga "Hyouga" instead since I'm pretty sure it's spelled with a 'U'... but I probably won't. Apologies.

Bottom English translation by Tackmyn Y! (I can't speak Japanese, again, apologies, though I was able to make my own version of Autophagy)

Potential TWs (I dont want to harm anyone by going on this rant): Autophagy (medical terms), nightmares, demons tormenting a guy, Hyoga being unhealthy in more ways than one, mentions of death/murder, self esteem issues, mentions of destructive behavior, manipulation, violence.

Yeah, my boy Hyoga ain't having a good time in this theory.

I feel the need to clarify that this is all speculation. So uh. Everything here is just what I've been thinking about since I hopped into this rabbit hole.

Sinfan (I'm not sure what order they go in, it's quite hard to tell):

["Death"

"I"

"Revive"

"Spirit"

"I"

"Something with shape"]

I'm not fully sure what "something with shape" means, but there's a possibility that Sinfan could be referring to Hyoga, (a doll/wax figure) or maybe that Sinfan needs something with a shape to be able to exist. Sinfan could need a vessel to stay on the mortal plain and go undetected while staying alive.

Sinfan needs a vessel. And with that thought, it launches into indecipherable theory crafting.

Hyoga summoned Sinfan when he was 12 years old. Thinking he found a vessel, he called upon Pabometh, another grey demon, to help torment Hyoga so the two could get their wish.

Hyoga, at the time, is young, dumb and susceptible to manipulation, meaning it could be easy for Sinfan to grasp the situation with an iron grip which follows Hyoga into adulthood.

"Revival" could also be referring to "Rebirth," symbolized by a butterfly. It could also mean that Sinfan/Pabo has the powers to revive people. Maybe as a last resort if they need it.

In Hiiragi Kirai's album trailer on Youtube, Hyoga shows up in a scene with 'D' and 'B' in calligraphy on each cheek. They could mean "Death" and "Birth" respectively.

Lines from Autophagy:

"I just wants a peaceful life." Likely means Hyoga wants the demons gone so he can live how he wants to. (Who wouldn't?)

"The voice inside my head? Huh... how odd." Also implies that the demons are still with him.

"My body pulses, memories from my past bringing pain." Means that in Autophagy, Hyoga remembers his past, but it hurts him.

""You can't avoid it in life, so it's best to just deal with it." You say, but you dont seem bothered." Is most likely Sinfan talking to Hyoga. It could also mean that Hyoga can't avoid the demons, so he should just deal with it.

"I can't stop now, so pretend nothing happened!" Could be Hyoga trying to ignore the demons, or maybe he did something he shouldn't have. (Always knew those were prison tattoos...)

"I want to wash my skull out! I want to say bye bye! But yet I didn't do it..." Could mean that the demons are still with him in Autophagy and likely still tormenting him.

"I won't stop, I can't look back." Might mean Hyoga is trying to move on, but with the demons still in his head, he can't, so the "Let me forget!" after the instrument solo might be him wishing that he never remembered in the first place and trying to get the demons to take them away again.

"Just stay away from me!" Could be Hyoga distancing himself from everyone he knows, or trying to get the demons to go away.

"Hello! HAHAHAHA Hello! HAHAHAHAHA!" Might be Hyoga as he slowly loses his remaining sanity due to constant tormenting and pressure from the demons.

"A A A A- 'Allo/Allow/Arrow" could all imply different things, so I'll give a short on all of them.

"'Allo!" Is just an abbreviation of "Hello."

"Arrow!" -According to a quick google search- is a common symbolism for peace and philosophical ideas, and used for protection and hunting. It could mean that Hyoga just wants peace and quiet, which is enforced by "I just want a peaceful life." in the beginning.

"Allow!" Could mean that the demons are trying even harder to bend him to their will and take him over as a vessel. They want Hyoga to allow them to posses him so they can do whatever they please.

Pabo only has 2 that I can see:

["Nightmare"

"Save (?)ime"]

It might be "time" but I couldn't make out the rune symbol there.

"Nightmare" hardens my thought that Bottom is just a massive nightmare set up by the demons to torment Hyoga, that the song is sung from the perspective of one of the demons (likely Pabo), and that Young Hyoga(tm) in the video is Pabometh playing the part of his repressed/forgotten memories.

This is all assuming the song is, infact, sung by the demons.

Lines from Bottom:

"You're keeping me alive! Today, today, you're killing me!" Could go both ways (Pabo/Sinfan and Hyoga) For Pabo it could just be another variation of the next line I'm about to talk about.

For Hyoga it could mean that he wouldn't be able to function if he didn't have the demons (Sinfan might posses him to make him fit in so nobody notices, keep him from dying from mortal wounds, and he's lived with them so long he might not know what to do without them), but with them he's slowly tearing himself apart from the inside out due to their constant tormenting. Metaphorically or literally is anyone's guess at the moment.

"Autophagy" (his songs name) is a medical term for "self eat" which normally happens when your body is starved, so it eats it's own cells to survive as long as it can. It can also correlate to certain diseases. Autophagy in these terms might also be referring to emotions. It's possible he's been stewing in any sort of negative emotions to cause such effects. (I.E: Guilt, fear, self worth issues,) which could make his resolve weaker, making it easier for Pabo and Sinfan to torment him/possess him. The longer it goes on, the closer he could be to self destructing.

"A wax figure/a doll is keeping me alive/killing me." Is more related to the demons in my eyes. "Wax figure/a doll" is likely referring to Hyoga. Hyoga could be their only tie to the mortal realm, (Sinfan being more prominent because he was summoned first, and by Hyoga himself.)

It could also mean that they need to inhabit his mind/body in order to survive and make it easier to torment Hyoga. If they both are in Hyoga's mind 24/7 while he suffers from nightmares (which cause lack of sleep, keeping his body in a perpetually weak state), no self worth, and a fragile mental state ("I wanna keep you out of my fragile mind!") while he tears himself apart, it would mean it would be harder to stay with him without something happening.

Due to that, it's likely that the very thing keeping them alive and in the mortal realm is also killing them at the same time.

It may be worth mentioning that a line in Bottom is "You think you're a god to me?" while 9lore translated Rinen's (Möbius') tattoo on his chest, which reads "Be still and know that I am god." It could a a coincidence, but I thought I'd mention it just in case (:

Throughout the entire song the demons are mocking and belittling Hyoga. (I.E: "Defying all logic, you're nothing but evil." "You're so stupid! You scumbag, scumbag, scumbag!") Most of the angry rant type of thing happens when Young Hyoga (tm) is on-screen. (It could be a tactic to make Hyoga not want to remember/manipulate his memories/tear down his resolve even more/or just plain upset him.)

"I mean, who, who, who are you?" It's been made clear that for the longest time (according to WOOMA) Hyoga didn't even remember his own name. "Who are you?" might be Pabo trying to get into Hyoga's head and make him question his own sanity.

"What the hell are you to me?" Implies that Pabo also want Hyoga to question why Pabo is here. Sinfan was summoned by Hyoga, but Pabometh was likely summoned by Sinfan to help tear down Hyoga. That means the two don't have much history, and Hyoga most likely doesn't know why Pabo is here for awhile.

It's "you to me" instead of "me to you" so Pabo could also be trying to get Hyoga to try and notice him in a positive way so that the nightmares stop. I'll expand on that some more a few (a lot) of paragraphs down.

"Inside my heart is- such a rage! Such a rage! So I'll grab you, grasp you, and crush you flat!" Is a line I find interesting. It also leads directing into another line; "The symptom of the unforgettable emotion is my burning intent to murder, which is absolutely right." Pabo would likely be talking about Hyoga, which implies that if he could, Pabo would murder Hyoga himself, but since the "wax figure" is needed to keep both him and his accomplice, Sinfan, alive, he can't.

It also implies that Pabo is extremely angry with Hyoga, for a reason I can't particularly pinpoint, except maybe for the fact that Hyoga's becoming more and more unstable and not safe for Pabo and Sinfan. The only problem is, it's Pabo and Sinfans fault he's like that. They're the ones that chose Hyoga as a vessel while simultaneously destroying him.

However, it's possible that Pabo's aim was to devoid Hyoga of anything and everything, (I.E: memories, emotions, etc. etc.) so that he was just that: a vessel. But with Hyoga being so destructive to himself, the whole plan could have gone awry and Pabo's only thought was how furious he was at Hyoga for messing up his chance to be in the mortal realm undetected for good, meaning he wishes he could destroy Hyoga and just get it over with so him and Sinfan could wait until someone else summoned them so they could take advantage of that.

""How deplorable you are! How deplorable you are!"" Is a line that has a chance of Hyoga himself having said it due to it having quotes on it. It also implies that he he could be fighting back, so his resolve might not crushed completely. However, a show of strength like that would likely just enrage Pabometh even more than he already is. It also doesn't help the positive impression he wants Pabo to have of him.

"You're involving yourself with me again like a clingy, clingy neighbor!" Sounds like Pabo, again, insulting Hyoga. If we go off of another part of this fever dream I've cooked up, (Hyoga not knowing what to do without the demons, but with them destroying himself), sounds like Pabo doesn't want to be with Hyoga anymore, going as far as hating him so much he's festering in it.

The "again" makes it sound like Hyoga's tried to communicate with them more than once, being unsuccessful each time. Hyoga could be trying to latch onto them, either to take them down with him or trying to get the nightmares to stop. Like I said, for a while Hyoga could have been trying to get positive attention and make Pabo like him.

"The low-end is going to manipulate me." Could be Pabo addressing that he knows what Hyoga was trying to do and calling him out for it.

"Brimming with momentary anger, rot away quickly, quickly, quickly!" Again, Pabo is talking about his burning hatred for Hyoga.

"I'm always losing! How, how dare you!" Implies that even with all the nightmares and torment, Hyoga has just enough willpower to keep Pabo from getting his wish, angering him even more.

And finally, a line from Autophagy:

"Oh, rise seeds of evil, bursting with malice!" Might be Hyoga finally giving into the demons and becoming their vessel if they take away his painful memories and stop hurting him.

Pentagram:

["-r Guide(A) N(?)E A(?)R"

"The ability to know wh-"

"Grant me the power to be strong in spirit-"

"Grant me the wisdom to understand-"]

With it over Pabo, it's possible that this was the one that summoned Pabo instead of Sinfan, although with it also under Hyoga, it could be Sinfan's. Who knows, it might also be boths.

In the ending scene with the pentagram, the colors of the other songs are visible, meaning that it's possible all of them are connected.

(I could go on for hours about the small loopholes that I think mean all the songs are connected in specific ways. Either way I know they're all from the same universe.)

With all their colors on it, it might mean they all have a demon of their own.

I'm still working slightly on the pentagram, I'll probably keep ya updated if I can find out what the rest of it says (:

If anyone can find the full version (preferably readable) of the pentagram, that'd be lovely (if it even exists)

(If you find more runes in "Bottom" or another Hiiragi song I'd be happy to see if I can translate it (: I'm not very good though, and I can't speak Japanese-)

English translation of Bottom used by: Tackmyn Y (I don't know where you are but you're a lifesaver)

Find any spelling errors, let me know! I'll see if I can fix 'em (:

If you read this far, what're you doing??

Have an absolutely amazing day!!! <3

Number 2 on the angst/fluff prompt list

2. “I’m worried about you.”

CW: Disordered eating

Scotland, sometime in the 70’s

“Hiya, love.” Paul said as he entered the kitchen. He’d just come back from the shops, grabbing a few groceries; he enjoyed the simple tasks such as shopping and even, to some extent, cleaning, because it balanced out well with the chaos of navigating celebrity life.

“Hiya.” John returned, scarcely looking up from his book, of which he read sitting at their kitchen table. As Paul walked past him, he stopped in his tracks to plant his hands around his partners shoulders, hugging him, and giving him a tender kiss on his temple. John in return cupped Pauls hands with his own, giving them an affectionate squeeze. They had built a small life for themselves in recent years - it was nice.

After setting his bags of shopping down on their kitchen table, Paul motioned towards the TV that sat in the corner of their kitchen. He switched it on, not so much to watch it, more so just for the ambient sound. Some sort of cricket game was on, neither of them cared.

“Anything happen whilst I was out?” Paul asked casually.

“Not much. Cyn’ rang - she wants to know if we can take Jules for the week next week, cause he’ll be on half term, y’know-like.”

Unloading the bags, Paul replied, “Course we

can; he can stay here anytime!”

“Yeah, well, thats what I told her.”

Opening the cupboards and noticing little, perhaps even none, of the food had been touched, Paul muttered softly, “Have you eaten today?”

Not batting an eye from his book, John responded, “Not yet - no.”

“Oh.” He hoped that this didn’t mean what he thought it meant, and so he insisted, “Well ill make you something.”

“‘M fine Paul…” he grumbled back disdainfully.

“But you didn’t eat much for breakfast either; ye must be starving-“

“‘M fine, alright,” He growled with a little more intent. “just let me be, will ye?”

“I only want you to eat, love; I worry about you when ye don’t.”

“Ill eat later.” John replied coldly.

“But thats still not a lot; ye have to eat more then one meal, y’know.”

“I am Paul - just drop it, alright?” And with that, he closed his book, and abandoned Paul in the kitchen.

After a few minutes of contemplation, Paul followed John over to where he was sat at the sofa, placing himself down beside John. John payed him little attention, still staring intently, at the television, and so Paul took the others hands into his own, and stated bluntly, “John, im worried about you.”

“Paul…” he groaned, but Paul wouldn’t allow him to dismiss him like that, and so he interjected. 
“No, listen, im worried yer stressing about yer weight again; and I dont want you to do this to yourself again.”

“Im fine, Paul.”

But he ignored Johns protests, continuing, “Are ye stressing about that TV interview yer doin’ in a few days time? Cause we can cancel it if you are - id rather cancel it then have you hurtin’ yerself over it.”

“Don’t worry about it Paul - ill be fine.”

“I want you to be happy though, not fine.”

“Paul. ‘M okay, im just not hungry today, alright?”

“Alright…” Paul whined defeatedly, realising he was not going to get through to John at this hour. “But you know ill love you regardless of how you look. You know that right?”

“Yeah, I know that.” John said acceptingly, but he didn’t sound convinced.

He never knew what to do with John when he would get like this: self-conscious, and insecure about his weight. John would never really talk to him about it, other then the occasional comment when he was a little tipsy - but even then, John would change the subject before Paul had the chance to enquire too deeply into what he was saying.

But he could see the ways his other half would look at himself in the mirror, and he see the glances he’d give his food when he felt he’d eaten too much that day. He wished he could help, but he didn’t understand. He made sure to shower John with love and affection, always reminding him of how handsome he still thought he was - even in their old(-ish) age - and some would even say he coddled and cared for John too much! But still, it appeared to make little difference to Johns confidence.

Later that night, as Paul was on the phone to George, and John was in the shower, he complained, “D’you know, I just dunno what to do with him when he gets like this.”

Sternly, George said in response, “Ive told ye before Paul, ye coddle him too much. Ye gotta face the facts - you cant help him, he needs sort of therapy-like.”

“I know, I know. But he’s convinced he’s fine - he thinks he’s mellowed out, y’know, with old age.”

“Old age? Yer only in yer thirties. ‘Sides, he hasn’t ‘mellowed out’, the problems still there, he’s just a little less…” he struggled to find a kind word to describe him, eventually he came across, “y’know, a little less emotional. Little less enraged-like.”

“Yeah, I suppose yer right. I guess ill talk to him about it tonight - but I don’t think he’ll go for it.”

“Give it a go, he’ll come around sometime.”

“Yeah…” Paul sighed. “Listen, ill let ye go now - give you a ring sometime tomorrow. Give my love to Olivia, will ye?”

“Yeah, alright. Bye.”

“Bye.”

***

Sometimes a girls gotta write herself a comfort ED fic instead of actually dealing with her FUCKING problems

okay some 2.05-2.10/overall thoughts about obx s2

i think cameron family was definitely the most intriguing and well done dynamic this season. tbh i wish ward stayed dead one bc i hate him but two bc that was SO interesting to see how rafe and sarah further fray and butt heads and having to deal with shit now that he’s gone. the idea of rafe versus sarah, learning more about rafe’s psychopathic behavior... i don’t like or condone any of rafe’s actions and i still think if you want him to be this uwu redeemable character that’s hella dumb but he was definitely one of the most intriguing subplots. 

sarah went through so so so so SO much this season it’s insane. but it did make me enjoy her so much more and madelyn did amazing so hats off to her

big john being alive is just so stupid imo. he should not have even made it to that strip of land in season one. totally illogical. also i think it’s much more emotionally impactful for john b to have no family, to see how complicated his relationship with his father was but there’s no way salvage or fix the fight or resentment they had and show that love, and to further motivate his hate of ward. no offense to big john (but also offense bc he neglected john b a lot lmao) but i was more emotional abt him being dead than seeing him alive like i felt literally nothing other than this is dumb. i would’ve been MUCH more interested if the twist was that we saw john b’s mother and that she was involved somehow/knew something. then you have a whole new character and dynamic to play with and its not just like . completely stupid lmfao. let some dead characters stay dead!

i absolutely hate that slave owner lady and god the whole aspect of them like disturbing cecilia’s resting place and those mfs having the cross when it belongs to pope’s family yet being like u guys stole ughhh so enraging and heartbreaking. i loved seeing pope have more of a main role though and i do hope that continues in s3 but we also see him in more of a main role than just being tied to that storyline especially because it’s so traumatic

maybe evil and partially biased even though i did like them even more this season than last but i wish john b and sarah had stayed broken up a bit longer. i think the divide about ward’s death was an understandable reason two break off for a bit and something where both sides are right to feel what they feel. i do not like that it turned into a jealousy thing at the bonfire, like 🥱, the difficult emotions wrapped up in ward’s death is much more compelling than john b talking to that random girl and sarah with topper. i wish they had more time seperately to unpack their emotions and have seperate character development. john b and sarah are v cute and i enjoy their devotion but also them being essentially married at 16 after dating for like a couple weeks is. a lot. while i don’t necessarily love teen dramas that flip flop love interests around all the time i think essentially having your two main characters be Forever Committed as both season finales is just like..... ¯\_(ツ)_/¯. they can be each others endgame ship but it would be interesting to explore their break up more even if we dont see other love interests bc i think internal conflict would be interesting to see (stuff that is not just ward wants to break them up or they get jealous). they would not have to be together for john b and sarah to still be devoted to saving each other i don’t think and would’ve been interesting to see them have tension on the island before getting back together. but i also think part of it is chase and madelyn being together so they won’t make their characters really Break Off but . oh well ig. i also enjoy the jarah dynamic when they are mad at each other it’s fun

speaking of the pogues being on a random ass deserted island is v intriguing but im like okay how will these bitches survive lmao. but hopefully it allows for some more of that s1 intimacy. also so glad cleo is with them!!!!!

i wish we had more solo kiara and sarah moments that were not just like.... oh so what’s going on with your relationship. like did they have a scene that passed the bechdel test lmao? honestly i think there were too many moments that were like so what’s going on with your relationship abt kie/pope and john b/sarah--not to say there is zero place for that at all but like i’ll expand on, i think s2 somewhat faltered in displaying some of the non-obviously romantic ships, like of course we saw them together and there were some great group moments and banter and stuff but i think s1 was more character and dynamics skewed and s2 much more plot skewed and focused more on romance than friendships. i feel like some of those scenes could’ve been chances for platonic developments or like. checking in on all the TRAUMA they have??? i did enjoy kie and sarah protecting each other a lot but i also do think they probably still have shit to work out together from kie’s kook year/their friendship and i hope we see that. also can kie have more plots that are not just about her relationships or even her friendships with the pogues pls

i hope i never have to see luke maybank’s crusty, dusty, musty ass ever again. poor jj mannnn :(

let’s speak about john b saying sarah’s name bringing her back to life versus jj saying pope’s and pope coming back no yeah....... soulmatism

overall i think s1 and s2 had very different objectives and tones and both did well delivering them but i hope s3 we get a happy medium. s1 was much more intimate, summer show with friendship and love and a goonies esque treasure hunt. much more focus on dynamics and character development imo. s2 was JAM packed with plot and much more action movie. it was very entertaining and they had some great moments and i enjoyed both and how the handled such a bigger/elevated season but i think something thats kind of frustrating is after everything it feels like we ended up with a lot of things not changing. like yes of course there are differences like they are deserted and we have icon cleo and some other villains in the mix and stuff like that. but i feel like. okay so ward and rafe still won and got even MORE gold. jarah are together and like way too committed but okay happy for them. i feel like other than sarah’s hate for rafe and ward further solidifying and kie and pope deciding to be friends not a lot shifted in the friendship dynamics, or who is working together, etc. sarah and pope got the most development which i love that for them but i wish we saw more with the others

So ok, i was hoping if you could do a compainions react to a trans male sole losing a fight with some transphobic (+ homophobic for male companions) raiders?

(I hope you enjoyed!!)

Let me just start by saying this, the companions will absolutely do their best to fuck their shit up regardless- you’re their friend, in some of their cases, the only friend they truly trust.

—-

Things were going so smoothly.

As per usual, a typical walk down the eastern coast of Boston resulted in stumbling upon some less than savory characters- but that hadn’t been an issue before. Once the two of you had finally stumbled upon mentioned characters, you gave each other a knowing look before engaging in combat.

One thing led to another and somehow they got separated from you, the realization of such causing their breath to hitch- worried eyes scanning all around in hopes of finding you. However they not had to look for very long-

“Yeah that’s it! Fucking tranny, cowering like the little bitch you are.” Somehow, someway..this person got the jump on you. What was to be an easy shot to their head quickly went awry whenever they struck your hand with their tire iron, proceeding to heat you back until your leg swayed from beneath you- your body succumbing to the sheer pain of a few broken bones.

That’s probably why your heart beat several pumps a minute, having had to force yourself backed into a crate wall in attempt to escape.

“Heh, shame. You’re actually kind of cute, for a dude with a pussy, at least.” The sickeningly spat, their fingers fidgeting as they readjusted the grip on their weapon- raising it, about to swing...until-

<Special!>

Dogmeat:

As though it wasn’t bad enough that the person his precious sole was fighting with was being aggressive, they were also saying these weird things too? Oh hell no. As soon aa the German Shepherd got a good shot, he’d leap above your trembling form and a silently wreck shop on their ass. Teeth to tits.

~~~~

Cait:

“Hey you fucking cunt, hope you like swallowing teeth!”

She wouldn’t even hesitate to use her own fists. It would probably hurt her too, but she didn’t care. True to her words, she’d make them suffer- busting their nose and knocking their teeth out before finally settling for gouging their eyes.

Curie:

“You say very mean things, at least you won’t be able to anymore...”

Being so dainty and lithe definitely had its perks. While that asshat was spewing their venomous monologue, she was able to sneak up behind them- plunging a syringe full of poison into their jugular.

How could they be so mean to you?

Danse:

“That’s quite enough.”

Danse usually wouldn’t ever resort to using such..brutal measures. However between feeling the sting of their words and seeing how they were able to beat you so badly....Danse grabbed ahold of their head and simply lifted up. The strength of his power armour suit allowing him to successfully “pop” it off.

Deacon:

“Sucks for them.”

Deacon would use their talking as an opportunity. Sneaking up behind them, he’d plunge his knife right into their back- twisting it for good measure as they screamed in agony. It was a bit underhanded, but shit, it worked.

As soon as he was able to get you to medical help, he’d be there to try to make you feel better about the ridiculous things that person said.

Gage:

“Dumbass, didn’t even know who he was talking too. Oh well, come on boss..let’s go get ourselves cleaned up.”

He. Would. Not. Hesitate. To. Blow. Their. Fucking. Head. Off.

Hancock:

“You, oh you’re coming with me..”

Having chems on hand usually meant Hancock was always ready for a good time..however right now it meant he was stocked up to perform a quick little “kidnapping”. Once he gage you a stimpack and was sure you’d be alright, he’d option for the two of you to go to Goodneighbor- dragging the insufferable, unconscious dickhead with you the entire way.

Once there, it was all a matter of waiting. Who knows? Maybe they’ll be missing a tongue, or a toe when they wake up. Either way, it’ll be a fun experience.

Macready:

“What a buttface..”

They didn’t know it, but it was a horrible decision to turn your back on a sniper. Mere seconds went by before Mac’s bullet flew through their skull, painting you in the viscera of their demise. A little bit afterwards, Mac would come strolling along with his trusty rifle at side. Then he’d kneel down in front of you, a small smile on his face when you thanked him.

Maxson:

“You’re in no position to say such disrespectful things..Mercy isn’t something I usually consider, but for you- it’s entirely out of the question.”

Arthur almost never got involved with the commonwealth missions, but this time he was glad he had.

As they were saying their indecent words, he grabbed the hand they intended to wing with- pulling it back and twisting it around their back, pulling one good time causing them to yell out in pain. Just when they were going to swing toward him, they were promptly met with the business end of his combat knife- slicing into their forehead from the force of which they turned.

Nick:

“Some people just have no redemption..Do they?”

The old detective would merely cast his gaze at their now twitching corpse, having shoot them point blank in the back of their head. He’d just scoff, kicking their body aside as he tentatively looked you over- deciding the next best course of action was to jab a stimpack in you.

Old Longfellow:

“Dontcha dare listen to them kiddo, son of a bitch probably didn’t have a piece of brain left anyway- now let’s go get you patched up.”

It took only five point two seconds for him to choke the unsuspecting raider, having pulled back their tire iron and thrusted it against their throat, holding it their until they no longer breathed. Once done with his rather violent display, he simply shrugged and offered you his hand.

Piper:

“Wow, what a dick..”

She’d have no words! None. She’s seen some terrible people, but boy, the world just never ceases to supply a worse bunch, does it? Regardless of her eternal thoughts, she’d just shake her head before shooting them in their ass, then their face when they turned around.

Preston:

“Hmph, as if being a raider wasn’t already a shitty enough life decision..”

Their words would enrage him to no return. This ended up resulting in him bashing the butt of his laser musket against their head until they no longer moved. They had no right to cast down such terrible judgement. No one does.

Skinny Malone:

“Don’t worry now, bastard got what was coming to ‘im.”

Yours crazy if don’t think wherever Skinny goes, his gang is close behind. At the very first sign of trouble, they came out of their shadowing spots and unleashed hell in the form of several rounds of ammunition. When all was said in done, the asshole that spoke such means words to you closely resembled Swiss cheese. After the whole ordeal, Skinny would take you back to his headquarters and let you drink to your hearts content- reassuring you that you shouldn’t let people like that make you feel any less of your self.

Sturges:

“Listen, I know you raider kind aren’t the smartest but..that’s just stupid. Even for your standards I presume.”

Truthfully..he was scared as hell going up against the raiders but! He owed it to you. So he rolled up his sleeves and stormed right in up to the bastard looking over you, hitting them upside the head with an old wooden board he thankfully found.

X6-88:

“Let’s go..I believe we’re both entitled to drink after this.”

He made quick, precise work of the perpetrator. Gone and done before your eyes could even process it. Had he not been right in front of you, offering you his hand, likely wouldn’t have even thought he had killed them at all- instead perhaps thinking it was some invisible force instead.

Your Tsunade/Sakumo/Dai has me thinking about how funny it would be that they just collectively tell Lord FUckUp (3rd) hes not allowed to be in charge anymore he sucks. Like i just have to assume the guy had anbu taking care of naruto until he could sustain and im- im not going to get into more than that ill never shut up ok

But like they had enough, Tsunade blame s the third for Dan’s death, Tsunade and Sakumo are enraged with how Dai is treated in the village (especially if he still protected against the seven swordsman but lets say back up came and he lives or something im rolling fast and loose with these ideas rn okay), Dai cant stand how the children are being treated, tsunade and dai despise how sakumo is being treated for saving ally lives, the list goes on!

Like everyone’s already done with his shit but come the 4th dying and kakashi coming to his parents with a screaming baby naruto like “dad they were just going to leave him in a T&I cell with on duty Anbu for care, MINATO SENSEIS SON!!” And they just collectively go oh hell no lord fuck face is done were in charge now and no one will stop us

Imagine a whole ass attempt at government overthrow or a whole ass mini war because these three people in love said were not going to let you destroy our village and its children anymore

Ok but the mental image of Kakashi with a little bundle in his arms, tears staining his face because he was told he couldn’t go near Naruto. That it would never be his duty to care for the kid, and that the child would be watched over by Anbu operatives until he could take care of himself.

Kakashi going against those orders and knocking out the Anbu guard on duty and just taking Naruto. Holding him close to his chest and heading to his father's.

Sakumo pulling his son close and looking at Tsunade and Dai, knowing what they have to do.

That this has to end.

And they don’t just head in. That would be suicide. Hiruzen is strong, and while they might have a chance at winning that wouldn’t guarantee a better future. it would simply make them traitors.

So instead they go around. without getting caught they approach other Jonin and Chunin and talk to them. Try to figure out something else to do. a better way.

Sakumo’s team (Shikaku, Inoichi and Choza) are behind him. They don’t like the treatment their Sensei got for his choice, and they can’t support a child being left on his own. With them comes their clans. Sure there are people who might not agree, but when it comes down to a vote in the clan the choice is made. They’ll support Sakumo, Tsunade and Dai.

The Uchiha clan is quickly on their side. Already they’re being pushed onto the outskirts of the village and treated like they’ve done something wrong, and here’s Sakumo. Someone who knows that feeling. Who has been treated like a failure and a disgrace for choosing his teammates lives. There’s no other choice in Fugaku’s mind. Either they side with Sakumo and the others now, or they will find themselves standing up against the whole village in the future.

Other clans slowly follow behind. The only one who I think might support Hiruzen is Hiashi, but his brother does not have his side. He still fights by his side, but he does not agree with the choice.

And the thing is, in this big fight for the village and its future, Hiruzen and Danzo will aim to kill. These are traitors in their eyes. They need to be dealt with.

Tsunade doesn’t want to kill her Sensei. She wants him to step down.

Dai and Sakumo don’t want to kill anyone on their side. They’ll disarm and knock out, but they refuse to spill blood. and that leadership bleeds through the others. this is a fight, but at the end of the day the enemies are Hirzuen and the village elders.

The others are just on the wrong side, but Sakumo, Tsunade and Dai don’t want to hurt them.

And of course Sakumo, Tsunade and Dai win. They have more support, and together they’re a terrifying force. Dai with the seventh gate, and a recognized Sannin and someone who’s as strong as all of the sannin.

The outcome is obvious, and Hiruzen and the other elders are banished. Never to return to Konoha for what they did and how they thought to lead the village.

The job of Hokage is left up to a vote. An actual vote. Sakumo wants the villagers to choose why they want in that seat. Who they think can lead them to a better future, and they choose Sakumo. Tsunade is a close second choice, but she also doesn’t want the job. She wants to focus her energy on the medical division and helping the village heal and grow. 

I want to know ALL about Wu Xie embarrassing time traveler!Li Cu!!! ✨✨ I'm also v intrigued by Nie Huisang death death death

(Also, Cross you have so many wips; I read in awe. And to think I thought I had a lot of star wars fix-it ideas! I only have anything at all written down for two of them!)

(this refers to the WIP tag game I completed a few days ago!)

Wu Xie being EMBARRASSING & Li Cu Time Travel: 

I’ve got a series of interconnected oneshots planned where Li Cu just- accidentally hops back in time to every drama/book and helps out the Iron Triangle. and it’s more like LI CU embarrassing WU XIE haha

I thought it’d be HILARIOUS if Li Cu got to see how Wu Xie (UR MY DAD BOOGIE WOOGIE WOOGIE) is so YOUNG and STUPID and EMBARRASSING when he’s young!! Wu Xie making (ACTUALLY) innocent doe eyes at an emo Xiao Ge?? GROSS. Wu Xie accidentally (DELIBERATELY?) setting off multiple traps in a tomb?? Li Cu is 10000/10 going to RECORD THIS on his phone and bring it BACK to the future and make fun of Wu Xie FOREVER. Also!!! There are SO MANY SNAKES in Ultimate Note!! And?? Conveniently?? Li Cu has a lil’ snake buddy?? MAYBE HE COULD HELP??? 

I basically want Li Cu being the Actual Competent One and the baby Iron Triangle floundering. Mostly Wu Xie. I want Wu Xie floundering. I also want Wu Xie SO EMBARRASSED when Li Cu hops back to his own time. 

li cu: DAD UR AN IDIOT 

wu xie: i DONT WANT TO RELIVE IT PLS AND THANK 

li cu: nO!! U ARE GOING TO SUFFER!! UR SO STUPID u set off FIVE TRAPS

wu xie: i hate you 

li cu: no u don’t u just told me u loved and appreciated me for saving ur life like ten minutes ago. there were tears in your eyes. actually they were streaming down ur face. u might have been hugging my leg and sobbing

wu xie: tHAT WAS SIXTEEN YEARS AGO FOR ME OK i am an OLD MAN

Nie Huaisang death death death:

I think it’s hilarious that you picked out one of the resurrective immortality fics considering we were JUST talking about the old guard hahaha. This one I actually have a good chunk written so far, so here is a long snippet near the beginning. Context is that Nie Huaisang’s mother is VERY pregnant and she’s riding through the mountains to visit her family before she gives birth. WARNINGS for gore (kinda??) and child death and just- DEATH in general:

There are beasts in the mountains. Ravenous, born of fury and blood, more ragged spirit than flesh. Their claws are jagged and broken and their maws drip with sizzling saliva. They have roamed the mountains for years and years, and have only grown more enraged, voracious.

The Nie Clan have always harnessed the butchery of their past. Binding rage and ruin to themselves, channeling it through their hearts and into their swords until they are one and the same. Until it feeds upon their flesh and their spirit, gnawing on their bones, carving out a little space for itself between brittle ribs. Until, one bloody piece at a time, it consumes them whole.

The Nie Clan’s power is also the source of their doom, and these beasts who roam and know only hate hate hate are Nie-furen’s doom, as well.

They descend upon the Nie in the dead of night, a roiling mass of snapping teeth and furious howls. There is blood, screaming, desperate flashes of Dao magic and heavy blades. But there are too many and it is not enough.

But the mighty Phoenix of the West has always been filled with unmatched fury and she is full of new life and about to burst. She will not let her child die here today. Not before he can breathe sweet fresh air and keen that first high cry. Not before his father can cradle him in his arms and his older brother can plant a kiss on his forehead.

That rage within her swells. It devours her spirit and bleeds out her eyes as she screams screams screams- a raging beacon of power and brutality and every ancestor’s grief.

She slaughters everything in her path.

When she comes to, she is soaked in blood and there is pain in her belly and an ache behind her eyes and in every breath- but she is alive. She lies amidst the ruins of her people and the lingering darkness of vanquished spirits and Shan Xifeng—

She goes into labour.

It is long and hard, lasting through the night into the bloody dawn and beyond. She manages to crawl to the edge of their encampment but no further. She twists into a curl of agony and cries into the clouded sky.

Her son is born on the cusp of evening, just as the sun slides behind dark, ragged peaks. He is born soft and warm and silent.

Shan Xifeng cradles him in quaking hands. Cups his cheek to her breast. His tiny head is blood-streaked like his mother. Blood-streaked like her friends and family around her.

It is an irony that on one of the most important days of her life, she is surrounded by her loved ones and yet they are all dead.

“Little one,” she murmurs, and tilts his limp head. “Little one, please.”

But he is silent as the dead around her and that grief swells again in her breast. It gnaws on her ribs and scrabbles at her throat and she is shaking shaking shaking.

“No,” she spits. “No! He has done nothing wrong! Nothing! Does he not deserve his first breath? His first cry? Does he not deserve the family that awaits him?!”

She screams into the sky and tastes blood between her teeth. “Take me instead! I beg of you! Please let him live! I would give my life! Every single one of them, so that he may live!”

Her sword quakes along with that dark raging thing within her and she clutches her dead son close.

Then—

The faint, elegant curve of a fan in the corner of her eye. The shift of cloth, the echo of a breath. The glimmering of ethereal gold and silver, like someone has spun the stars and sun above into delicate thread.

Summoned, like a beast to blood.

“All of them?”

Shan Xifeng knows better than to face an unknowable thing and so she bows as low as her broken body will allow. She stares into the bloodied dirt and breathes in dust and rasps, “Yes.”

“Hm.” A flicker of a stretching smile, coy, with a hint of sharp teeth. She does not see the fathomless dark behind those stark white teeth, a gaping void of ravenous benevolence. It is hidden behind the flare of the fan. “Do you understand what you ask for?”

“I do,” she says without hesitation.

The grin widens, lips scarlet and dark against bone-white skin. “Then I shall grant your wish.”

A shift of cloth, then a cool hand cups Nie-furen’s cheek, guiding her up. Her eyes flicker open and she sees what no mortal has ever seen, and then that fan whispers against her cheek and blood-red lips press against hers and the last thing she feels is her golden core trembling spasming dying as life is pulled from her breath- all the lives she has ever lived, the one she lives now, and every life she could have ever lived.

Shan Xifeng falls into the bloodied dirt beneath, still clutching her dead son to her breast. And then there is no one left living in that small clearing.

Pale, bony fingers trace a delicate line through the blood that lingers upon her cheek. It is still wet and useful. Stained fingers press against scarlet lips and the life held between stark white teeth is breathed anew into that blood.

Carefully, bone-thin fingers trace a deliberate character upon the newborn child’s left cheek. The blood shines, brilliant and devastating, before fading back into a gruesome name across pale skin. Slowly, the child begins to twitch, brows wrinkling in displeasure, before a high keening wail escapes tiny lips as the child take its first breath.

“Your mother does not know what she’s doomed you to.”

A day later, travelers upon the road hear a faint keening noise not far from their wagon. When they find the clearing, they gag and retch. When they find the weak, whining child clutched in his dead mother’s arms, they shake their heads and then stare at the crest emblazoned upon the woman’s clothes.

Two days after that, the child is delivered to Nie-zongzhu’s disbelieving arms.

“No,” he says, violent spirit quaking deep within him. “No. It- it is not true.”

The traveler ducks his head and clasps his hands in a bow. “I’m sorry, Zongzhu. We were not able to take the bodies with us. You’ll have to send someone to check, but…it was the crest of your house. And…” he hesitates, then nods to his companion who stumbles up and offers a sword.

Not just any sword. A dao.

Shan Xifeng’s dao.

Feng.

“No,” Nie-zongzhu cries, falling to his knees.

“I-I’m so sorry,” the traveler stutters. “I am so, so sorry, Nie-zongzhu.”

Nie-zongzhu sobs, clutching his newborn child to his chest. “Little one,” he weeps. “Oh, little one. At least life is kind enough to have spared you.”

“Yong,” the traveler blurts.

Nie-zongzhu stares uncomprehendingly, tears running hot down his cheeks.

“It- it was written upon his cheek in- in blood. I- I think that is what his mother named him. She must have done it with her dying breath. She must have wanted you to know. He did not enter this world nameless.”

“Yong,” Nie-zongzhu echoes, trembling. “It- it is a good name, for my brave little boy.” He cups his son’s cheek and sobs. “Brave like- like his mother,” he murmurs, voice thin and quaking. “She named you well.”

And perhaps it is bravery that made Shan Xifeng give up the chance to ever be reborn. Perhaps it is bravery that saved her son’s life.

But it was all a mother’s wretched love, and Shan Xifeng did not write the character for brave upon her son’s cheek.

No, it was not Yong for bravery, but Yong for eternal.

And it is not his mother who wrote it.

Perhaps it is bravery that saved her son, but is the curse of eternity really a kindness?

No, no Shan Xifeng did not truly understand what she asked for.

But Nie Yong soon would.

The next section starts with:

The second time Nie Yong dies, he doesn’t even realize it.

He is four years old.

and the third section starts with:

The third time Nie Yong dies, his Adie kills him.

He is nine years old.

It’s basically an Angst Fest with a happy ending bc...I just need a happy ending Always. I just REALLY love resurrective immortality and I love making my favourite characters Suffer :)

I hope these were fun and satisfying to read!! 

♪(ﾟ▽^*)ﾉ⌒☆

(also omg NO it’s a CURSE!!! I WISH I could just finish SOMETHING!! ANYTHING!! OMG!!! I am so envious you’ve managed to restrain yourself to a few!! Also!! I am SUPER excited to find out more about your fix-its!!! :D)