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khattikeri · 3 months

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one of my favorite things about mdzs is that for how heavily its plot involves politics of classism and misogyny... even the characters most directly impacted by it can't and don't free themselves from it. literally the closest exception is mianmian.

meng yao being the "son of a whore" wasn't some sort of commie awakening for him that led him to wanting everyone to be socially equal. he played the political game, climbed the ladders, sucked up to and backstabbed and murdered people, including other prostitutes who actually had nothing to do with how he and his mother were treated at the brothel he grew up in.

he put in so much extra excessive effort for even a fraction of the same respect that members of gentry cultivation clans got. and he did deserve to be treated more humanely! but he feeds into the exact same system that created him, leading to his own undoing.

his efforts were for a fragile upward mobility that was never going to hold up. he never surpassed his origins nor did he empower others in similar stations, because the society he lives in is not one that would accept that.

the second he got caught and all those crimes exposed, he was scapegoated to hell and back, replacing wei wuxian as society's terrible one-sidedly evil boogeyman overnight.

speaking of not-quite male gentry, i think it's interesting that wei wuxian explicitly doesn't try to climb the ladders in BOTH lives, knowing full well that anything he does will be punished just for the sheer fact that he is wei wuxian.

wei wuxian is scolded for giving intelligent and correct answers in school. lan wangji does the same and is praised.

wei wuxian occasionally lounges around with fellow disciples and is punished. jiang cheng does the same and mostly escapes.

wei wuxian refuses to carry his sword around in public (after losing his golden core, which nobody knows) and is scorned as an arrogant upstart. nie huaisang has been doing the EXACT SAME THING for YEARS and nobody bats an eye.

unlike jin guangyao, wei wuxian knew subconsciously from the start that his acceptance was superficial and that he could be cast out any time. when he was 10 and recently taken in by the jiangs, he canonically would not eat or use "too much" food and water because he thought they'd find him a nuisance for "wasting their things" and kick him back out.

now away from just the classism, yu ziyuan is a proud and strong noblewoman in a society that belittles and derides women for everything they do. her strong cultivation doesn't matter. she's victim to the vicious rumors of her husband loving another woman who is strong like her but apparently had a more likeable personality.

it doesn't matter even if jiang fengmian didn't cheat or that wei wuxian is wei changze's son with cangse sanren; yu ziyuan can't bear with the humiliation of herself (and by extension her children) not being "good enough". she's ridiculed for "failing" in that one duty as a wife, mother, and woman.

she lashes out and takes out that anger on everyone present for years, giving her children lasting trauma and also being a key element in how the jiang family and yunmeng jiang sect are effectively wiped out at the hands of the wen clan.

madam jin doesn't even have a name outside of the fact that she's married to jin guangshan. i don't even remember reading anything that indicates if she's a strong or weak cultivator, or what, which in itself proves that to most people, it doesn't matter. she's "just" a woman.

of course she's angry at her husband's affairs and all the bastard children they bring in. but she also can't do anything about them, so she lashes out at the few people she can: servants. non-cultivators, probably. those very same bastard children.

shoutout to meng yao getting shoved down a flight of stairs at age fourteen, because if madam jin tried that move against her husband instead, it would make her lose even more face, which as a noblewoman she'd never do.

and that's not getting into how jiang yanli is consistently sidelined for being physically weak.

that's not getting into how mianmian was actually a good cultivator, but was mocked by everyone around her for trying to stand up for wei wuxian when everyone was turning on him. how everyone scoffed at luo qingyang's words as "just some lovesick woman" who "obviously wants to marry or bed him since he saved her".

luo qingyang is the only one of these characters who HASN'T died. she didn't play society's games like jin guangyao. she didn't dig her heels in confidence of her own abilities like wei wuxian.

she didn't bitterly lash out like yu ziyuan and madam jin. she didn't gently accept it like jiang yanli.

she just LEFT.

she married an ordinary merchant and cultivates separately from mainstream cultivation society, and therein found her own peace and happiness.

mxtx doesn't bother with particularly class conscious or feminist vocabulary to hand-hold readers into understanding these disparities, but that choice highlights them & the deeply entrenched politics of their society even more. i really love it.

#keri chats #mdzs #mo dao zu shi #long post #mdzs spoilers #im novel only but still tagging.#the untamed #cql #yeah yeah everyone's written meta addressing this aspect of the story BUT I THINK ABOUT IT ALL THE TIMEEEEE #maybe i just don't get to read a ton of books often; esp not ones that mirror my own culture. but it's just so. soooooo. augh #the fact that the setting itself enables so much of the tragedy in mdzs... which is true of all tragedies but STILL...#this isn't even getting into qin su and the power imbalance w her and jgy post-reveal... man.#man. so much going on here. man #THIS POST IS MESSY AND BARELY EDITED BUT IF U READ IT. ILU

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homosekularnost · 5 months

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so who do i bribe for a fic where pin-lee gets taken hostage by BE but escapes with the help of now rogue secunits, which results in leonide getting demoted as well as becoming obsessed with this commie lawyer that tanked her career?? 11k slowburn enemies to lovers

#system collapse #system collapse spoilers #i didnt say that. i didnt say that either #pin-lee #leonide #the murderbot diaries #my art #hear me out. hear me out

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fredwkong · 7 months

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Virgo Season: Vincent

As soon as the elevator doors opened, Vincent slammed the button to close them.

Just down the hall from the elevator, he’d been able to see the door to his room, surrounded by a bunch of the freaks. Men in leather and rubber, or just rainbow underwear, all standing around casually, as if it was normal for degenerates to congregate at the door to a normal man’s room.

Vincent knew he was one of the last. Almost every man in the Astra Hotel had joined the freakshow. It was too bad Vincent’d had to fly down from Colorado, or he would have brought some of the guns from his bunker. At least then he’d be able to defend himself properly.

As a keen survivalist and doomsday prepper, Vincent had always known this day would come. The freaks and commy liberals were probably using some technology to assimilate everyone. That was why none of Vincent’s stuff was in his room. As soon as the weirdos had shown up, Vincent had put it all in his rental car for his own safety.

It was definitely time to go now. Vincent would go jump in his car, drive to some motel a hundred miles away, and wait until his flight home. While he was there, he could warn people. Post on one of the forums, tell people to stay far away from the Astra Hotel and all the men who had once been pillars of their communities.

All he had to do was get out of the lobby.

As the elevator doors opened on the ground floor, Vincent looked up and down the hall carefully. No one to be seen. The freaks were probably busy with some kind of orgy. He stepped out cautiously, keeping his scrawny middle-aged body as small as possible.

He came to a T intersection. He could have sworn that the way to the foyer was a straight hallway from the elevator. Still, Vincent picked the turn that he was pretty sure led in the direction of the doors.

He came to another T. Picked another direction. A third. A fourth. Even though he had turned a different way each time, Vincent found himself back in front of the elevator again, in an identical hallway.

As he continued to walk down indistinguishable hallways, losing his sense of place for the first time in decades, Vincent began to hyperventilate. They’d gotten him. When could it have happened? He hadn’t been eating in the dining hall for weeks, concerned there might be chemicals in the food. He’d never so much as touched one of the freaks. He couldn’t think of anything they could have done that would have induced this kind of mental break.

But then, he thought, maybe it wasn’t a recent event. Weird shit had been happening since the first day of the conference. That was it! The commies must have known Vincent was a threat months ago. Maybe the whole conference had been a sham, just to get him. He might have been pumped full of hallucinogens for a month or more now, being triggered into seeing all these freaks every day to break his spirit.

But then how could he escape? Vincent turned yet another one of the infinite corners and finally saw something different. A few stiff foyer chairs sat in a small alcove in the hallway, and across one of the chairs was some abandoned gear. Pleather chaps, a jockstrap, sweaty socks.

Under any other circumstances, Vincent would have been disgusted at the idea that flashed across his head, but he was desperate. Obviously, whoever had caught him could influence his brainwaves to make him see all this disgusting, horny shit. He should pretend to have been brainwashed like everyone else. If he could act the part right, maybe his captors would let him free and he could go home!

But he had to play the part. As if transfixed, Vincent stared theatrically at the gear for a moment, then started to edge towards it. He had to pretend that he was just a bit intrigued.

Getting a little closer, Vincent started to strip off his shirt, careful to make it seem as if he hadn’t realised what he was doing. The cold air of the lobby was chilly on his scrawny chest, but Vincent resisted the urge to shiver. Anyway, his lower body was feeling uncomfortably warm. He stripped off his pants. Much better.

He had edged all the way up to the chair now. With a start, Vincent realised that he was naked. He was better at this acting shit than he’d thought. Gingerly, he picked up the jockstrap. He’d never worn anything like this in his life. Slowly, with careful and deliberate movements, as if he was in a trance, Vincent stepped into one strap, and then the other.

When he pulled it up his legs, Vincent felt a sudden rush. He shook his head and squeezed his eyes shut, pushing past the dizziness. He opened his eyes and looked down at the jock, fit snugly over his cock and balls as if it was made for them. It made him look… good.

Vincent wasn’t used to looking good, but he realised as he looked down at his body that he had a bit of a tan. The skinny look was working for him. And despite his age, nothing was saggy.

It wasn’t hard for Vincent to make a show of checking himself out and feeling up his body. He was almost feeling excited to pull up the pants, but he knew it was just that he was really into character.

The feel of the shiny pleather chaps was incredible. Vincent didn’t know why he’d spent decades focussing on hard-wearing, cheap clothes when this stuff was available. He was careful to act it out, but it wasn’t too hard to moan a bit at the sound of the zipper, to shudder as he slipped them on his toned legs. He felt his cock chub up, starting to create a wet spot in his jock.

As he tucked his feet into the stirrups and zipped up the pants, Vincent took a moment to appreciate his lithe young body. He was never gonna be a huge guy, and he didn’t want to be. He was happy with his modest, lickable muscles and flexible joints.

Lickable? Vincent didn’t know why he’d thought that. He didn’t want anyone licking his muscles. His cock pulsed at the thought, though, and he gasped.

It was just that he was getting really into character, he reasoned. It was like having a different persona. It was just until he was out of this simulation, and then he’d go back to normal. Maybe he could call this new guy Vinny, to separate him better.

Yeah, Vinny thought. Just for now, he would really embrace being Vinny. Vinny was one of the freaks, down to fuck like a gay rabbit. Vinny was the kind of guy who wore chaps and leaked precum from his thick Latin cock into a slutty jockstrap. Vinny didn’t think about government conspiracies or any of that shit. Vinny didn’t think much at all.

Vinny paused halfway through sniffing his unwashed armpit. There was still a pair of someone’s sweaty socks left on the chair, and Vinny knew that his character would be kind of a stink pig. If he wanted to really prove that he was corrupted, like all the other guys in the Astra Hotel, he would have to prove that he really loved to sniff another man’s smelly socks.

Was it still acting when Vinny greedily snatched the socks and sat down on the carpeted floor? From the first sniff, Vinny was in heaven. The socks were ripe, like they had been worn for a couple of days, and Vinny’s mouth watered at the scent. He felt himself getting harder and harder as he sniffed and sucked, feeling the sweat drip down his body.

Had there been another reason he’d been doing this? Vinny felt like he was forgetting something. No, it was pretty normal for him to lie down in public and rub his cock through his jock, especially at the Astra. Vinny felt another guy running his hands through Vinny’s perfect brown curls, so Vinny opened his pretty mouth and let the man slip his cock between Vinny’s lips.

It was a revelation to smell and taste a cheesy cock and sweaty balls, fresh from the source. Vinny ran his tongue under the man’s foreskin, moaning around him. The guy thrust deeper, and the sensation of a big cock forcing its way into his throat had Vinny cumming right through his jock. He knew that there would be a pearly stain forming on it.

As he took the cock even deeper, Vinny felt whoever was throatfucking him lean over further and start to lick up his load. Vinny felt his spent cock struggling to get hard.

Then the cock in his throat pulsed once, twice, and Vinny felt the load flow into his stomach. It felt different than all the others he’d taken. Thick, syrupy. It made Vinny feel warm inside. As the man pulled out, Vinny watched a drop of thick amber cum spill from his Black cock.

“Dan,” the hulking Black man introduced himself, spitting Vinny’s cum into his own mouth. The taste was good, but not as good as Dan’s load had been. Vinny wanted more.

“I’m Vinny. Can I lick your feet, Sir?” Vinny's mouth was watering.

Dan chuckled. “I think you’ll make a good addition to the group, Vinny,” he rumbled.

Click here to see all of Virgo Season.

If you feel inspired, write a story set at the Astra Hotel and post it @ me to join in. Help me celebrate my birthday by turning more conference attendees into geared up gay kinksters.

#male transformation #mental change #reality change #male tf #dumber tf #race change #musk tf #leather tf #socks tf #feet kink tf #virgo season #all fwkong

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iamfuckingsorry · 1 month

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Thinking about that mural from DE

You know which one

TRUE LOVE IS POSSIBLE ONLY IN THE NEXT WORLD, FOR THE NEW PEOPLE. IT IS TOO LATE FOR US. WREAK HAVOC ON THE MIDDLE CLASS

The next world mural. In the game, you encounter this piece very early on if you interact with everything available, you probably see this mural before you've ever even heard of Dora or before you've started to get really serious about your commie tendencies, if that's how you choose to play. And the reaction is like, "wow, this is kinda profound actually". Or maybe it's like, "oh lol, this game really is commie af isn't it" (even though later on it turns out that the game is much more critical of communism than you'd think at first). And the story in the ledger provides some insight into Harry and Jean and how they work together too, so it feels like it makes sense, it fits in very well at that moment in the game and that's it.

But looking back at this mural after you've played through the entire game, knowing what you know of Harry's relationship with Dora...

It's Harry's own fucking love story in a way, isn't it?

Him and Dora came from very different backgrounds. He's genuinely poor, grew up checking the trash cans on the streets for tare and edible food, spent his teenage years running around with a bunch of kids who all OD'd or got themselves killed one way or another over the years. He had dreams of getting an education, getting a chance to use his creativity and curiosity and learn about all that that is worth exploring in this world (which is everything), but those dreams are long dead. She's solidly middle class, with access to all the education and art and music he's always dreamt of, with her family to always fall back on. She's everything Harry's ever dreamt of growing up. She might as well be living in another world.

They fall in love with each other and she moves to Jamrock to live with him. Jamrock, the biggest fucking ghetto in Revachol, full of tweakers and gangsters and just thousands upon thousands of poor people permanently down on their luck trying to get by, with no proper aid or government and a police station so understaffed and underfunded they never even stood a chance. And they can barely make ends meet even living in Jamrock, moving from shithole to shithole, never knowing when they'll have their electricity cut, when something will happen that gets them thrown out, desperately scrambling for a new place to stay. And Dora could never do that, not really - she never actually lived in Jamrock, she always had the possibility of leaving, of going to work across the river and visiting her parents whenever she felt like it or just escaping, packing her shit and getting on the tram and never going back. And as long as she knew she wasn't really, truly stuck in this miserable shithole forever, she wasn't ever really living in Jamrock. And it could never be enough for her.

And she wanted more - for herself, for Harry, for their family, who even knows. Maybe she saw Harry struggling trying and failing to make a difference as a gym teacher and thought he could do more good with the RCM. Maybe she was getting desperate, living in this fucking shithole, and thought they needed more money. Maybe it was something completely else - but what is certain is that Harry ended up joining the RCM, and the 41st, and everyone there is on speed, everyone is miserable and desperate and always running behind playing catch up with the case load, with the crimes, with the drug addicts and rapists and murderers, and Harry, who's always been like this close to a genuine mental breakdown, just fucking falls apart. He needs to help people, needs to make a difference, and working at the 41st, with the budget and case load and staffing situation and the pure fucking misery in the area. He goes out and meets a miserable person after a miserable person and he can't do anything else than be nice, make their day a little bit more manageable, do his best- but he knows that no matter what he does, his best won't be enough. He won't be able to make a dent in the pure fucking misery that is Jamrock. But he needs to, so he drinks, he smokes, he does drugs, he loses any semblance of control he ever had over the voices in his head, the dude telling him to hit shit and the dude telling him to forget everything and just get fucked up and Revachol herself screaming at him about her imminent death. And in the end Dora can't stand it anymore and she leaves (and, honestly, good for her. I'm happy for her. But this is about Harry, and Harry isn't, he isn't able to be happy for her at this point in time).

And like. I personally doubt that she'd have left just because of the money if everything else was good. I honestly even doubt that the money was that big of an issue for her to start with, it was all the other issues first and then the fact that they couldn't even rent a fucking VHS and play it at times became just one more thing on top of this already massive pile of shit that broke the proverbial camel's back. But in Harry's mind, he was never rich enough for her. She was always the middle class girl who settled for the poor fuck, and he was never gonna be good enough for her because he was just a broke dude from Jamrock. She was perfect and so so beautiful and at one point her love was the only thing keeping him going, and then she left because he couldn't even

And from what we can see in the game she was the only person he's ever really, truly loved.

But in his mind, they could never be together again. They could try as they might, but it was never gonna work out, because she was a rich girl and he was just a poor miserable fuck. He grew up looking for change on the streets, she took piano lessons in a fancy part of town. The difference was just too large to ever truly be bridged.

So for post-breakup Harry, prior to Martinaise and even during the events in Martinaise, true love was never actually possible. It is possible only for the new people, in the next world. It was too late for him - he had his chance, and it was an impossible thing, it could never have worked out and now he's wasted it. Because of the inherent differences between different social classes. It is too late for him. So yeah, fuck it, wreak havoc on the fucking middle class. Fuck those rich bastards who took Dora from him, and fuck Dora too.

On another note, this was also one of the most recent cases him and Jean worked on prior to Martinaise. I don't remember the date exactly, but it was in his last ledger, it must have been pretty recent. Do you think he saw the mural and thought about it the same way I did? Maybe this was the one that truly pushed him over the edge? The impossible love. It truly was too late for him. The only way to fix it is a new fucking start. And how do you get that?

After life - death. After death - life again.

#disco elysium #harry du bois #harrier du bois #dora ingerlund #DE #herr's personal tag #next world mural #when first playing the game I didn't even really stop to think about the middle class line #the love part of the mural honestly felt very powerful to me #and I opened the compartment and read the letter right afterwards #so i had a lot to think about in addition to just this #anyway #this is more of a “what if” rant than any actual metaanalysis #our story about Dora is extremely influenced by Harry's point of view #but at the same time #every design decision in this game is deliberate #or most of them anyway #is this something the game designers were actually thinking of when designing the mural?#was that an intentional decision on their side?#or is it just me reading too much into random shit while missing important details elsewhere again?#who knows #midnight rant

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coveredinmetaldust · 10 months

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The discourse around the OceanGate situation is making me really fucking mad. You are getting a lot of posts like this one where people are decrying how inhumane it is for people to meme on the situation instead of grieving for the kind of people would work you to death if it meant a 0.002% stock price increase.

Yup, these fucking losers are equating willfully creating a death trap and killing 5 other people instantly to a car accident.

I don’t even entirely disagree that yes, it is tragic. I’d rather they didn’t die from an implosion caused by their metal death-tube crumpling in on itself because the arrogant shithead CEO decided that all these safety standards other subs adhere to were getting in the way of innovation. Obviously it would have been preferable to find them drifting on the ocean surface a day later shaken but ultimately unharmed.

No, I’m mad about how blatantly lopsidedly this flavor of moral outrage is always applied. You never see these people on Reddit, Twitter, etc crawl out of the woodwork to denounce the people saying “well he was no angel” when a person of color is gunned down by the police. You never see these same multi-paragraph posts decrying how immoral it is to say “play stupid games win stupid prizes” when this shit happens to the poor, disenfranchised, etc.

You don’t see it, because the people currently on their high horse are the same people who would call you a fucking idiot if you were on this submarine.

If the entree fee was $250 and five working class people were killed I can guarantee you'd see these same people joking about Darwin awards instead of saying stuff like this.

But no no, suddenly now is the time to stop victim blaming and start grandstanding while clutching at pearls. Now is the time to get indignant and accuse people not of feeling empathy and being inhumane sociopaths. There are now were entire call-out topics on Reddit where they organized and briggaded anyone who dares to say anything bad about these poor billionaires. Where the FUCK was this outrage during, I dunno, pick any one of the numerous fucking examples of brutality and/or exploitation occurring within the last three years. Oh right, these dopey fucks were too busy wagging their fingers at the victims and telling them to take Personal Responsibility™. Too bad, if only they were born rich—then maybe these paragons of virtue on social media would go to bat for them.

But you know what the worst part of this discourse is? I can’t quite put it into words, but it’s so blatantly fucking obvious to me that all of this is insincere—this is actual virtue signaling. You can just tell by the tone, the regurgitated talking points, the slimy smug indignation. This is false empathy over people they couldn’t care less about and won’t even remember in a week, because the point isn’t to being a compassionate person.

No, this to grandstand and get that dopimine rush by calling people out. This is being done to score points for some political ideology and Own The Libs/Commies/Socialists/[insert any slightly left of center ideology]. This is so the Panglossian shitheels of social media can maintain the status quo and feel superior by stamping out any act of defiance or rebellion.

None of these of these people seemed to care about how disrespectful this kind of disaster tourism is for the victims of the Titanic. (Victims, who, were mostly lower class since the wealthy were the ones who were allowed to escape.) They don’t care that these rich assholes were profiteering off a tragedy and making a spectacle out of visiting a mass grave. No, they save that smug, condescending, and cynical response for the people who call out these rich assholes.

It makes me want to throw my computer into the ocean.

Now, if you are one of these people I’m screaming into the void about, and you genuinely do not understand why people are memeing the situation so hard, you need to take a step back and recognize that this is, objectively, an absurd and cartoonish situation. This could have easily been a plot for an episode of The Simpsons. This whole goddamn situation reads like something thrown together by a room of writers who were trying to out “yes and” one another until one stopped everyone and said: “Woah woah, hold on. The CEO’s wife is a descendant of the Titanic victims? Isn’t that just a little much?” And then everyone else ignored this person and just kept fucking going.

In short: it was the perfect storm of absurdity, coincidence, hubris, tragedy, and stupidity.

But that's just a surface level explanation which ignores the context of the last hundred or so years. Ask yourself: "why are so many people so unsympathetic towards these particular victims?" Well, there are a multitude of reasons that contributed to how we got to this point and this guy does a much better job of explaining it than I ever could:

#oceangate #titanic #the titanic #oceangate submarine #billionaires #oligarchy #reddit

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swanpit · 1 year

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A simple commis

But not me thinking there could be a potential story going on here, this could be an au on its own, potentially an angsty one

here, puss is probably more like his deleted scene version

so he really did end up in the wishing star alone by himself, no kitty, no gatito blade, no perrito

Him and death, they still gonna fought a bit (maybe puss even made the wish or whatever, or postpone it but still planning to do it after battle or as last resort or something, and instead of sliding the sickle back to death he picks THAT THING up instead)

of course he's gonna be out of depth with it, it's not the kind of weapon he's used to and it's fucking heavy, heavier than he thought....(and is it just him or did it get heavier and heavier?)

maybe jack is back and in a pinch, puss finally make the wish to restore his nine lives back and used the destruction of the star to escape. jack didnt survive this, maybe goldi and the bears escaped in time, perrito is with kitty out there (in which kitty kinda got her wish but instead of puss it was perrito, platonically)

Potentially puss corruption era? he escaped with that stupid thing in tow,didnt have another weapon (when he tries to get rid of the sickle he remembers that he forgot the rapier again and he has no other weapon, DOH! Death still has it and no way he's risking it again, it's as good as gone now) increasingly become paranoid, and of course the story he told gonna make death's reputation even worse

puss in boots escapes death itself and even managed to get his weapons! But said weapon grows cold and heavy on his back, people think it was a well earned battle trophy but to him, it was a reminder of his mistake

There's also potentially other...people with ulterior motives who might as well wants to take that weapon from puss if they known..but alas, puss's heart, at its core is still too nice to let it fall into the wrong hands....

And death is still chasing

.....congrats, buddy you just put yourself in insanity difficulty mode

#puss in boots the last wish #puss in boots 2 #bad ending route perhaps?#fail all social links point to get here

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spaceisout · 1 year

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𝙨𝙚𝙘𝙧𝙚𝙩 𝙬𝙤𝙧𝙡𝙙 // 𝙠𝙚𝙞𝙜𝙤 𝙩𝙖𝙠𝙖𝙢𝙞

Pairing: keigo takami x f!reader

Words: 2.055

Summary: being married young was never in either of your plans, more or less being married to a hero and a quirkless human. still, it made an interesting switch to your lives, one you might not regret.

Warning(s): angst, fluff, slight cursing

A/n: this is a mini series that i have in mind, i hope you like it and any feedback is appreciated thank you!

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0 ◁ II ▷ 2

"You look beautiful, honey." your dad said smiling down at you with tears in his eyes not believing his only daughter had gotten married.

"Thank you, dad." you said holding onto both his hands tightly.

"We are going to miss you so much." he held the side of your face, "Please remember to call us everyday, okay? Don't forget to come and visit."

A faint smile rested on your lips nodding at his reminders. "I promise... I'm sure I will have plenty enough time to stay in touch."

"Sweetie," your mom spoke walking up behind you and rested her hand on your shoulder. "Your husband is waiting for you."

"Right," your mom stood next to your dad, looking both at them you did your best to smile making sure they didn't leave feeling worried about their daughter. "I should get going then I do not want to make him wait any longer."

"You're going to be just fine, okay?" she smiled teary eyed.

You nodded, "I know, mom."

"I promise to take care of her." Keigo said as he walked up from behind you and wrapped his arm around your waist. "I won't let anything happen to her, Mr. and Mrs. (last name)."

"We know, Keigo." your dad said, "I know our daughter will be happy by your side."

"I will." you said, "I'm..." you breathed out chuckling trying to stop yourself from crying. "Going to miss you both."

"We'll visit every time we can." Keigo assured you, rubbing the side of your waist in a comforting motion. "I can always drop you off whenever you'd like to see them."

"I'd like that."

"Well, off you go now!" Your dad said, ushering you two out of the reception hall. "I know you two would like to be alone now, we won't hold you back anymore."

"I hope you two enjoy your time together." Your mom said sadly smiling as she watched you two getting into the private limo.

Looking both at them you waved goodbye and send them an air kiss before getting inside. Keigo spoke to them for a few seconds and soon joined you inside as well.

"Off to your house, I assume sir?" the driver asked looking at him from the rear view mirror.

"That's right, Kenji." he responded and turned to you as Kenji began to drive away. "I told your parents to help me pack some of your belongings, they should be there at my house already. If there's anything you might be missing I can send someone to go get them for you."

"Oh okay, thank you." you said looking down at your lap shyly, realizing the minimal space you had. "I should be fine since my parents know me... but I will let you know in case."

"Listen..." he gently placed his hand on top of your own, which caused you to blush. "I know we barely know each other, and I'm sure you did not plan on marrying someone like me." a chuckle escaped his lips, earning a sly smile from you. "But I will try my best to make you feel comfortable."

"I agreed to this whole thing as well," you said. "I'll be honest you are right about picturing myself and marrying someone quirkless like myself but― you shouldn't feel bad... I had the choice to say no too."

"Yeah, I know... and for that same reason when we're in public we have to make sure we do not know each other."

Your lips parted to speak but he held his hand up.

"Let me explain, because of what I do there are sometimes villains after me. I manage to catch them in time but being part of this life is unpredictable." he continued, "I made a promise to your parents that I would keep you safe and I will make sure to do that."

"From what I heard... you sometimes work with the hero public safety commission?"

"Yeah..." he mumbled. "I do things for them in exchange of them helping me and my mom out when I was a kid. Meaning... sometimes I have to do things I do not want to do."

"Do they― are they aware of our marriage?"

Keigo shook his head. "The safety commission would have been against it and I like knowing this isn't something they have under their nose."

"I see... then in public you don't know me and I don't know you?"

"That's right."

Slowly you turned your body to face the front again understanding that this was going to be just like you knew from the start. "Then I guess going out together or doing normal things is out of the question?"

"I'm sorry..."

"We're here sir." Kenji announced.

He got out of the private limo and walked over to your side and opened your door.

"Thank you, Kenji." you said and he gave you a small smile in returned.

Keigo walked over to you and extended his hand out for you to take.

Thanking him you took his hand and got out, he held the end of your dress making sure you did not step on it or tripped.

He bid his driver good night and told you to walk towards the elevators. As the doors opened you stepped inside, following you he did the same and pressed the button to the top floor.

Your eyes wandered over to the array of buttons that were on the wall, you counted at least sixty by the times the doors opened once again.

"Follow me." Keigo said slightly smiling as he still held your dress, walking beside you.

You quickly realized that this was the front door to his penthouse. There was no front door or any other main way to his place to enter which made you worried.

"Um... so can anyone just walk up to the top main penthouse and walk in... here?

"You and I are the only ones who have access to this place with these keys." he explained taking the them out of his pocket with one hand and holding one up to you. "Visitors will have to call ahead or press the button to ask for permission when in the elevator. There are cameras by entrance so you can see who they are without them knowing you are seeing them."

You nodded, trying to understand how it was possible for someone to have so much technology on their side, you took the shiny key that was attached to a red feather keyring.

"Is this... one of your actual feathers?" you asked moving your fingers gently over the soft red feathers.

A tingling sensation could be felt on his mid lower back where the end of his feathers met. Of course he did not say a thing about it and tried to ignore the feeling in his chest.

"I want you to carry that key with you wherever you go." he said, "If something happens to it it'll let me know instantly."

"And you'll come to my rescue?... Wouldn't that blow everything?"

"Don't worry about that." He said and continued to walk again down the long hallway that lead to the large kitchen. "I always make sure the fridge is stocked. Of course now that you'll be living here too you add anything as well or buy what you might need."

"Under my name?"

"Yeah, of course."

Keigo then took you around the rest of the penthouse to show you around, explaining how many rooms there were and what each room had inside. The place itself was very big with the two of you here, you wonder how it'll feel when he leaves for work and it'll be just you here by yourself.

He was very kind, letting a stranger into his home and private life. You two only met about three months ago, did not talk much but knew the basics of each other. Still, if it had been any other pro hero things would be much different. You always wondered why he even agreed to this marriage in the first place.

"I do not want to pressure you when it comes to sleeping in the same room as your husband." He said, but the word sounded so nice coming out of him. "I made sure to get help in decorating a room for you and get stuff you might need as well. Of course you can change anything you want about it too."

Turning the knob on your door, he opened it and led you inside first.It was huge compared to the room you had back at your parents house. The bed was almost triple the size of your old one, not to mention the bathroom was beautiful with a separate tub and shower.

"Keigo..." you said in awe by how much thoughtfulness he put into your room. There was even a huge vase of (favorite flower) sitting on a nightstand next to your bed. "You really... did not have to do this. I would have been fine with a simple room―"

"None sense." he stepped forward, "You're my wife now... I'm going to be sharing a home with you, the least I can do is help you feel a bit more well... comfortable."

An overwhelming feeling took over you, your body lunged into his arms, hugging him tightly around his neck. You felt grateful for the type of husband you had. People did not know how kind Keigo really was.

"S―sorry," you quickly pulled away feeling your face turn red.

Keigo chuckled, placing your veil back behind you neatly. "I'll make sure to do stuff like this if it means you welcome me back with a hug everyday then."

He tried teasing you in hopes of distracting you from seeing his wings fluttering in happiness.

You shook your head chuckling, "People should know how much you like to joke too." You bit your lip trying to hide the smile.

"Trust me it'll make me lose my charm too."

His phone then vibrated, he pulled it out to see Endeavor's name on the caller ID.

"Sorry I better take this." He excused himself, closing the door behind him, leaving you alone in the room.

"Endeavor, hey!" He exclaimed walking into the kitchen. "It's quite late for you to be up at these hours."

"I called you to let know I'll be going to kyushu."

"Seriously? Well that is a surprise. I wasn't told about you coming to visit me."

"I kept in touch with your agency but they kept saying they haven't been able to contact you." Endeavor said, "Where have you been for the last three months? I'm surprised you even picked up my call."

"Yeah I know." Keigo walked into his home office and closed the door behind him. "I've been busy working on other things, you know life of crime never stops."

Endeavor did not know whether to believe what he was saying or not. After all he had been under orders of the heroe commission safety to infiltrate the league of villains. Even so, he knew he could trust him and hopes that he will do so as well.

"I did hear there has been a rise in crimes lately." He played along, "I'll be there by tomorrow morning at your house to discuss somethings."

"No it'll be best if we meet at my agency, it's closer anyways from the train station."

"Very well then."

After hanging up, he breathed out in relief.

"Is everything okay?"

Turning around he saw you standing there dressed in different clothes. Seeing you wear that oversized sweater made his cheeks turn red.

"Y―yeah!" He smiled resting his hand against the back of his head. "I didn't talk too loud did I?"

"Oh n―no not at all!" you exclaimed with your hands shaking no along with your head. "The call took quite long... I got kinda worried."

You were really making it hard for him not to fall for you.

"Sorry about that, are you hungry?" he asked.

"A bit yeah..." you sheepishly answered, "Are you?"

"Starving actually, I have a place in mind. Is it alright if we order in?"

"Sure!"

Getting married young was never in his plans, still sitting down and eating a meal for once not alone, made him see how much he'll enjoy having someone around.

#keigo takami x reader #keigo takami #bnha hawks #mha hawks #bnha x reader #mha x reader #bnha angst #mha angst #bnha fluff #mha fluff #bnha fanfiction #mha fanfiction #bnha masterlist #mha masterlist #my hero academia #boku no hero academia

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tordtheonenutwonder · 11 months

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I FUCKING LOVE SPIDERMAN

#eddsworld #eddsworld tord #ew tord #my artwork #the commie escaped #across the spiderverse #spiderman #spidersona #spiderman sona #into the spider verse

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nimona-antifa · 7 months

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Alrighty time for another communism post. So I was thinking about how capitalists LOOOOOVE to bring up "someone will have to do it, are you expecting some kind of paradise where everyone just lazes around? That's unrealistic!" In their minds, us communists are just stupid idiots who don't understand how the world works because OBVIOUSLY there has to be SOMEONE to work, and we CLEARLY didn't consider that, stupid commies that we are. And you know what? I'm pulling uno reverse. I think that the reason why capitalists are so uncomfortable with communism is because they don't actually want to acknowledge the work that has to be done to make a functional society because that would require them to realize that the burger flippers are quite literally an essential part of it that is severely mistreated and underpaid. They know that SOMEONE has to work the grill, chop the veggies, stir the soup, wash the dishes, because not everyone can. But that's the key word. SOMEONE. As long as it's not them they don't have to think about it. And they don't want to. They'd rather be worked to death and not have to think about it than be forced to confront the possibility that they might ever have to do something they don't want to, like flip burgers or help wash a mountain of dishes. Their problem with communism is that they expect it to play out like capitalism. That's why they project all of capitalism's inadequacies onto communism. It's safe to hate. Hating capitalism is risky. And I get it, I really do. Sometimes I wish I could just swallow that little blue pill. But the problem is, I can't. The moment I started to actually interact with the real world was when I saw the cracks. Capitalism is held together with spit and prayers to a God that doesn't really exist: money. What even is money, when you think about it? Nothing more than a gatekeeper. It has no real practical reason to exist, either we can sustain our current population and nothing needs to change, or we can't and changes need to be made. I'm not suggesting genocide, don't misunderstand me. I'm saying that the Republicans love to claim that there's no population problem with their insistence on pushing straight marriage to make more babies and forced birth to make more babies and don't punish rapists so we can make more babies. If that were true, why do we need money? If there's truly enough resources to support an ever growing population like they claim, why do we need money to gatekeep who can and can't eat? And if there aren't enough resources, why the hell are we pushing for commodities like NFTs that waste an obscene amount of real life resources? If there isn't enough food, why are we advocating for structures that keep food out of people's hands until it's half rotten? If there isn't enough food, why do restaurants get away with wasting tons, LITERAL TONS AS IN THOUSANDS OF POUNDS, of food? If there isn't enough food, why does FORTY PERCENT OF IT GO TO WASTE?!? We need to do better. I don't care what name it goes by but until everyone, regardless of race, gender, disability, religion or lack thereof, sexuality, age, mental health, or any other factors, is able to live well without fear of starving, losing their house, losing the job they wish to do, and fear of being unable to escape an abusive situation AT LEAST, we have a lot of work to do.

#communism #fuck capitalism #anti capitalism

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strawberry-crocodile · 5 months

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something about warrior cats is that it depicts a society in which there is a robust social care network, where children and the elderly are garunteed safety food and healthcare. early in the series it's implied that the clan has a very nonstandard view of family- fathers play little role, cats are raised mostly by their mothers (and generally all cats who are currently raising kits), and then their teachers. generally, cats are more part of a wider clan community than they are an insular nuclear family. the weak spot here is how disability is handled, and i can't call it a perfect society by any means, but it's just interesting how these things that commies and anarchists are fighting tooth and nail, that capitalists treat as some pie in the sky impossible dream.

i really think that the escape from capitalism into a socialist-adjacent world where your work matters and you're part of a big community and you're guaranteed care and protection once you grow old or get sick or injured... that's absolutely part of the fantasy of warrior cats. and i doubt it was written that way haha

#blogodile #warriors #warrior cats

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420thewritersroom · 11 days

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Got That Cursed Dawg in Him

Whoo-ie, this took slightly longer than intended. I wanted to gift this piece to @averageludwig simply because I LOVE LOVE LOVE their art and their pieces of the Demoman & Soldier makes my heart do backflips AND front flips. This is also highly inspired by @waterwindow art on Twitter that I think about daily, on top of that I love their art and their pieces on Demo & Soldier too.

This is also my first time writing anything involving the TF2 peeps, and I feel like it shows a lot when writing dialogue for the Soldier and Demoman (I didn't bother with doing written accents because...no, not skilled or patient enough to bother with that lol).

Before we continue, just wanted to do a bit of housekeeping, BLU Soldier is named John Doe (full name Johnathan Dodger) and is essentially a BLU Team OC. Same with the BLU Demoman, their name is Harvey (full name Harvey MacLennan). So for those who are confused on why the Soldier is named John instead of Jane, that's why. I also like to interpret the BLU Soldier to be a tad bit smarter (still a massive himbo). Anyway, I hope you enjoy the read!

Characters: RED Demoman (Tavish Finnegan DeGroot), BLU Soldier (John Doe), BLU Demoman (Harvey Maclennan)

Word Count: 2,058

Ships: RED Demoman/BLU Soldier (Boots n Bombs) if you squint

Warnings: Canon Typical Violence (it's not too gratuitous, but it's there), Unresolved Tension, mentions of murder, BLU Soldier is too dumb to not escalate situations to worse heights

John strains to keep himself upright, wobbly staying on his feet as he looks at the RED Demoman across from him under his helmet. Pained breaths escape him as he readjusts the grip on his shovel, having lost his rocket launcher in the fight long ago.

"Tavish," it hurts to talk as John forces himself to try to reach his former friend again, "Tavish, you need to snap out of it!"

He has tried, time and time again, since this fight reignited, to get Tavish to stop this bloodshed he was subjecting both teams to. John said he could talk him out of this blood-frenzied stupor that the RED Demoman was under, that there was no need to trap Tavish in the Respawn system. Or worse, cut him off from it completely. He can be reasoned with. He's one of the most reasonable men with both teams combined.

"You have to let go of that sword, Tavish. You can't let whatever commie trickery that thing is plaguing you with take over. For your sake, listen to me!"

The RED Demoman was slumped forward, arms dangling in front of him while holding on tightly to the Eyelander that dripped fresh blood from its blade. Tavish's remaining eye shone with a cursed green, the outcome of constantly feeding the sword the heads of not only the BLU team but RED as well. The usual rogueish charm that the Demolition Man possessed was gone. In its place, a blood-hungry beast that saw neither friend nor foe, but lambs fit for the slaughter. Despite being wholly empowered by the claymore, the body is still flesh and bone. Tavish, or whomever was possessing him, struggled to keep themselves aloft. They have lost too much blood, and Tavish's body protested any further exertion unless treated.

John, however, looked worse for wear. His uniform was ripped and in tatters, revealing the white tanktop below, which was also showing signs of damage. He lost FAR more blood than Tavish ever did, with multiple cuts that ran deep and oozed his essence all over his attire and on the dirt below. Breathing was haggard and painful for the BLU Soldier to do. Hell, existing was riding him up a wall as hours of fighting and dodging were catching up with him. The only reason he was still kicking was thanks to the few health kits and bottles that were littered about, the dispenser that his team Engineer set up for him (that was now destroyed at this point), and their resident nurse giving him a buff before the confrontation. But his resources were running thin. He practically ran this entire battlefield dry of its health kits and ammo, his rocket launcher and shotgun now only having a single shell and maybe two rockets for him to utilize.

"Heads," a ghostly snarl escapes not from the claymore but from Tavish's mouth, dripping like poison in John's weary ears. "Heads…Heads," the body continued to utter as it tried to inch closer to John. Tavish's body, exhausted from the fight, struggled to place one foot after the other, stumbling here and there as every nerve was demanding that this being stop and let it rest.

John can barely think. He tried talking to Tavish, but nothing was getting through to him. Every plea, insult, and statement was greeted with unbridled violence and horrific screams. Any strategy the war veteran could think of was leaking from his ears (or maybe that's just blood now that he's thinking about it). As Tavish's body lumbered closer, John scrambled mentally on what to do. Shooting Tavish will send him to respawn and will provoke the RED team to damn Tavish to whatever fate they opted to do. But he can't fight him either. Should whatever's controlling the Scotsman gain a second wind, John will be sent through the ringer instead, failing in his mission and pushing both teams to definitely kill Tavish.

Tavish was now within arm's length of the Soldier, scrapping the Eyelander beside him on the dirt ground and ready to swing the weapon at John's head. John isn't sure what compelled him to do this. Perhaps he was hinging on the possibility that their past friendship still lingered somewhere in Tavish's mind. Maybe it was a final distraction tactic he opted to pull out from under the possessed Demoman's feet. Regardless of what the reasons were, John pushed himself to get dangerously close to the deranged Demoman.

And he kissed him.

The kiss might as well be two kids on the playground pressing lips together, thinking this is "how adults kiss" or woeful virgins awkwardly "kissing" each other. The sensuality was lost between the two of them; their lips connected, but the desire that usually comes with it was in the other room.

Yet, John couldn't help but feel his heart flutter a bit. He tells himself that it's just the adrenaline and fatigue that caused his heart to skip a beat, kicking away the dawning fear that he might still harbor the same feelings that he felt all those years ago; before their fallout, before the Demoman betrayed his trust. But despite these affirmations he tried to hammer into his head, his lips still lingered far too long than they should have. But it must be doing something; Tavish has yet to raise his Eyelander at him.

John mentally had to rip himself away from the Demoman, quickly stepping back should the RED fiend decide to take a swipe at him. What he saw before him took him aback as the RED Demoman stared at the BLU Soldier with a wide eye. The color of Tavish's remaining eye no longer glowed a misty green, but it wasn't back to the usual brown that it was before. Instead, his eye was a startingly alluring emerald green.

"…Tavish?" John says carefully.

There's a brief moment of silence between the two, and John decides to take further initiative in this temporary standstill. "Tavish, you have to give me the sword. You're out of control, out of line, even for someone of your expertise."

The Demoman remained still, his face filled with foggy confusion as he seemingly was slowly coming to his senses. John took this moment of uncertainty to his advantage as he leisurely reached for the sword.

"If you don't let go of this communist contraption you found, they'll kill you. You hear me? They. Will. Kill. You, Maggot," despite the insult, it held none of the searing bite that it usually conveys. John silently thanks his helmet for shadowing his eyes as he used the concealment to prevent the RED Demoman from seeing him eyeing his sword.

"You may not be a red, white, and blue-blooded American, but I know you can fight whatever has plagued your English-muddled brain." John was so close to the sword that he could taste it. Just a millimeter longer, and he'll end this nightmare once and for all-

Tavish's eye suddenly flares in anger, shoving John away from him and placing extra distance from the BLU Soldier. "Then let them kill me. Maybe Heaven or Hell will have more use for me than this wasteland of a state!"

John stares at Tavish dumbfounded, his helmet slightly ajar to glimpse his blue eyes. "Tavish, you don't know what you're saying-"

"I know EXACTLY what I'm saying. Haven't had a drop of scrumpy since I've started this rampage."

So he was aware? All this time?

"What? You think I'm that ill-willed to just LET a dead son of a bitch take me over without an inch of a fight, eh? I fought the goddamn loche, read a cursed book, and lost me eye for it."

Not a single word was slurred or interrupted by an untimely burp. John was lost for words, unsure of how to respond.

"But, why? You're terrorizing both teams consorting with that weapon, letting it whisper Russian nonsense into your ears!"

"Firstly, this sword isn't from fucking Russia; let's put that through your tin-canned skull first. Secondly, I let it take over because I allowed it."

"But WHY?" Soldier couldn't restrain his growing impatience, his tone resorting back to his usual drill sergeant demeanor.

"Wouldn't you like to know."

"Don't back sass me, you one-eyed Scot son of a bitch. Your whiskey-drinking life is on the goddamn line."

"See, that right there," the Demoman points at the Soldier accusingly, "Maybe if you'd stop with those demeaning jokes, we wouldn't be in this mess!"

"Jokes? It's what you are, Tavish! You have one eye, and you drink! What else am I supposed to call-" John stops himself, his mind finally clicking back into gear and understanding where Tavish was coming from. "Ah, so drinking wasn't enough, was it? Gotta bully everyone else, all because of your own damn insecurities, is that it?"

"You shut your bucket-wearing trap," Tavish growled, his remaining eye threatening John with a ghostly mist.

"Maybe if you actually faced your own demons instead of trying to drown them out with whiskey and blood, you'd be half the man you wished you were."

"SHUT THE FUCK UP!" Tavish's eye becomes fully enveloped in the same cursed green color as his fury rises to new heights. "YOU HAVE LITTLE ROOM TO TALK FOR SOMEONE WHO WAS PLACED IN A MENTAL HOSPITAL FOR DECIMATING THEIR WHORE OF A GIRLFRIEND!"

Though this should've struck a cord in John, it instead made his spine and skin run cold as a shiver coursed through him. Nevermind that Tavish screamed to the heavens a secret he wished was left buried in its grave, but John completely lost the plot of what he was supposed to be doing. If anything, he reignited and made worse the Demoman's conviction to fucking kill him.

"T-Tavish, wait," John tried to backpedal, kicking himself mentally for letting his emotions run his mouth. But it was too late. The familiar sounds of Tavish's ungodly screams came rushing at him, and he had little time to run. Hell, he even tripped on himself attempting to run away from the bull that was the RED Demoman.

Thank his stars and garters that the Eyelander clanged against steel instead of his flesh and bone.

John is unsure when the BLU Demoman appeared or where they came from, but he was slightly grateful that the demolitionist stood between him and the willfully possessed Tavish.

"We gave you ten minutes, you took an hour, and we waited, John," Harvey's soft voice pierced through John like a hot knife to butter.

John panics as the possibility of Tavish meeting a fate worse than death becomes a painful inevitability in his mind. He scrambles through his words, thoughts not connecting to his lips, "Harv, please, just give me more time-"

"I gave you all the time in the world, Soldier. But something has to be done," Harvey grunts, and his words felt cold to the touch, but he does not raise his voice. Keeping a steady tone that, to an untrained ear, he might as well be as serene as a monk.

The BLU Demoman ends the standstill between him and his RED counterpart, building distance by kicking Tavish away with amazing strength. A prowess even the BLU Soldier didn't know his BLU companion possessed.

The RED Demoman's back slams against the outer walls of one of the buildings. With that previous stalemate, Tavish's body felt a renewed vigor as it slumped forward, and from his mouth, a familiar, venomous hiss escaped his lips, "Heads."

"If there's anything good that came out of your distraction, most of BLU have convened with RED, and they're plotting what to do with this beast once it's down." Harvey tilts his head to look at John, "Either you join them, or you help me keep this monster down."

John, from under his helmet, lingers between the two Demomen, searching through his mind how he can still salvage this situation. Ultimately, he settles on helping Harvey in the moment, and hopes to contain Tavish should they weaken him again. The BLU Soldier gets back on his feet, shovel in hand and stands with his BLU companion.

"I know you both have history, but that can not hold you back from doing what must be done, Johnathan," the BLU Demoman softly says.

"I know," John answers.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Hey, you made it to the end of the story, congrats :D

My main inspiration for making this piece, aside from Waterwindow's art piece, was because I have yet to see anyone put Demoman in the "unwillingly or willingly becomes possessed by an entity that takes over their body completely and they're so deep in the possession sauce that they require the power of friendship to save them or have to be put down like a dog for the sake of the world" trope, and I decided to clumsily make this a reality.

I can just imagine, especially when he gains the Eyelander and his friendship with the BLU Soldier is broken, that Tavish goes through a spiral of emotions as he questions his self-worth and feels guilty for betraying his friend all for a cursed sword. And his guilt and self-hatred eats up at him and he becomes vulnerable to the influence of the Eyelander and lets the sword put him on auto pilot, allowing the spirit within to go on a mindless rampage against both RED and BLU team.

#Team Fortress 2 #TF2 #TF2 Demoman #TF2 Soldier #Boots n Bombs

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