#GOD WHOS AID THAT AMIRITE

[kaixserzz]

Loyal Knight 2

ੈ♡˳ Il Dottore x Gn!Reader *ೃ༄

ੈ♡˳ 8.0k words ┊ Fluff + Angst/comfort *ೃ༄

ੈ♡˳ Masterlist | Part 1 *ೃ༄

author's note ˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚

HI GUYS PART 2!! i accidentally posted part 1 when i haven't finished this LMAOO but it's been like a week since i started this fic SO i just wrote it in one goso :3 no beta this time so i can make my beta reader cry like a bitch, realized that reader is kinda like, maybe yandere? idk they're both obsessed with each other anyways LMAO,, also pls dottore rqs <3... WHY DID IS THIS LONGER THAN I EXPCTED NOOOOOO FUCK!!

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ cw: canon typical violence, basic dottore warnings, injuries, blood, mentions of lots of scars, experiments, and death, dottore and reader r both crazy, obsessiveness/possessiveness from both parties, dottore hits reader ONCE dw it's just to snap reader out of their shit, uhh relationship fights? LMAO idk cant have a relationship w/o errors amirite, cyro vision reader, dark humor cuz... dottore, also kinda suggestive at the end?? nothing happened, just... biting cuz its dottore LMAOO

iv. guilt

Zandik paid little heed to the Archons, celestial beings overseeing Teyvat, and the so-called 'blessings' they bestowed. His interest lay solely in their power, particularly the enigmatic artifact known as the 'Gnosis'. Apart from that, little else piqued his curiosity.

But Zandik held a particular disdain for your Vision above all others. The sight of your Vision alone was enough to sour Zandik's mood, and he preferred if you refrained from using it altogether.

It served as a constant reminder of the day he had made a grave mistake. It wasn't intentional, he hadn't meant for you to get hurt that bad. He hadn't expected it. It wasn't part of his calculations. It was his fault.

Your Vision, which you proudly wielded with joy, became a source of suffocating resentment and guilt for that day. Not that he'll admit that to you.

The sight of blood never bothered Zandik. Not one bit. Acquiring blood samples, blood dripping down his skin from his injuries, and the knowledge of blood pumping throughout his body. Yet when you lay in his arms that day, blood uncontrollably poured from the gash on your side, he couldn't help but feel a sense of dizziness wash over him.

During a routine exploration in one of the ruins you discovered, a dormant Ruin Guard unexpectedly activated and set its sights on Zandik. Despite your years of experience in combat, a ruin guard was still tiered above your capabilities.

But deep down, Zandik couldn't shake off the suspicion that the gods had shown favoritism towards you. In a miraculous turn of events, he was suddenly propelled away from the Ruin Guard's line of sight, shielded by a frigid burst of ice. The Archons had bestowed upon you the power of the Cryo Vision, recognizing your unwavering determination to protect Zandik.

With Zandik's swift actions and your valiant efforts to distract the Ruin Guard, it was eventually deactivated. However, you didn't emerge from the encounter unscathed. The new ability granted to you by your Vision proved to be uncontrollable, you had no idea how to utilize it just yet. The Ruin Guard easily overpowered you, tossing you aside as if you were nothing more than a lifeless ragdoll.

And the moment Zandik ran towards your body, barely breathing with blood soaking your clothes, he knew that he hated your Vision more than anything.

Your body was deathly cold, and Zandik couldn't tell if it was due to your Vision, or if you were already dead.

Amidst the days you spent in slumber, Zandik dedicated himself to your care. His once meticulously organized scrolls and project documentation were discarded and replaced by books on human biology, medicine, and recovery. His focus shifted to gathering various herbs and medical supplies to aid in your healing process.

Your wound was above his medical knowledge, but Zandik adamantly refused to hand you over to those who could provide immediate help. He understood the consequences you both would face if your activities were discovered. Nonetheless, he took it upon himself to do everything he could to aid in your recovery and ensure your well-being.

Zandik couldn't comprehend his own reaction to your injury. He believed it should be trivial for someone as resilient as you. If you were awake, you would scoff at the wound and dismiss it with laughter. But his emotions betrayed him, tightening his chest and filling his mind with doubts. Could he truly heal you? Would you recover completely? When did he start doubting his own abilities? After all, he was a genius, capable of restoring you to your previous state of health. Yet, the uncertainty persisted, tormenting his thoughts and weighing heavily on his heart.

His usual composed demeanor shattered in the presence of your injured form. The sight of you so vulnerable and still, coupled with the weight of his own uncertainty, caused his hands to tremble uncontrollably. Each time he whispered your name, his voice carried a mixture of fear and longing, hoping for any sign of response from you. Countless sleepless nights were spent tirelessly monitoring your vital signs, studying medical techniques, and seeking ways to aid in your recovery. The touch of his fingertips against your skin evoked a cascade of emotions within him, causing his bottom lip to quiver and his eyes to burn with unshed tears. The intensity of his feelings threatened to choke his breath, leaving him grappling with a vulnerability he had never anticipated.

In those moments when Zandik tended to your wounds, his heart clenched with a mixture of concern and fear. The touch of your cold skin sent a shiver down his spine, stirring an unsettling realization within him. Despite his intellect and knowledge, he couldn't help but question if you were still among the living. The fear that you might slip away from him haunted his thoughts, yet he couldn't bring himself to voice this deep-seated worry. Instead, he masked it with a determined focus on finding ways to restore warmth and vitality to your body, desperate to dispel the icy touch that threatened to consume you.

The surge of unfamiliar emotions within Zandik puzzled him. He had never experienced such feelings before, and it unsettled him. This vulnerability, this concern for another's well-being, was entirely new territory for him. It was a revelation that challenged his perception of himself. Zandik realized that he was capable of caring deeply for someone— you, despite his initial reluctance to acknowledge it.

Perhaps the cold has comforted you into a peaceful slumber, but it only reminded him how awful it was to feel your body so cold in comparison to his warmth.

"Hey,"

Your voice brought Zandik back to reality, and his gaze was drawn to your shirtless figure. It had been a month since the incident and a few weeks since you woke up. Standing before a mirror, you examined the new scar that adorned your body. The intensity of his stare was palpable, fixated not only on the scar but also on the Vision hanging from your waist, below the prominent mark.

"If it grosses you out that much, just tell me. No need to stare at it," You jest with faux annoyance in your tone, yet it was only met with silence from him. It was odd for Zandik to act so out of character ever since you've woken up.

The dorm was in disarray, with unwashed dishes, scattered books, and trash strewn about. You reluctantly remarked that you weren't looking forward to cleaning all of it, but to your surprise, Zandik took it upon himself to clean the mess. You expressed your gratitude and told him he didn't have to do it, considering how he had been taking care of you've since you woken up.

But he just told you to lay back on your bed and rest. To not even think about going outside your shared dorm, or lay a single finger on your sword. You were going to rest, and his words were final. Well, you weren't going to argue with that (his cooking was pretty bad though, it almost sent you back into a comatose).

Seeing how unsettled he was when you first opened your eyes, constantly checking on you and ensuring your wound was clean, you knew he was genuinely concerned. It touched your heart to see his care, and you couldn't bear to see him so down.

You took in a deep, confident breath, walked towards him, and smacked his head with your hand. Zandik let out an outraged cry, his glare that you missed so much was immediately on your smiling face. "Now now, don't be so down! I'm okay now!" Taking your sword out of its scabbard, you did a few swings and didn't feel any sort of pain at all. "You brought me back in perfect condition all thanks to your hard work and medicinal expertise! Sure, I may have gotten a scar, and I'm pretty sure you hate my Vision too,"

You blew a gust of cold wind onto his face, covering it with a thin sheet of snow. Zandik was quick to wipe it off, about to yell at you, but was cut off when you let out a lively laugh; one that he missed hearing once more in all those days you were asleep, and put a hand on his shoulder. "Instead of thinking about what happened in the ruins, just think of me! When you get cold, or see ice and snow, just think of me, and how I'll use my vision to protect you!"

Zandik silently wished you obtained the Pyro Vision instead. Then at least, it would've had warmth. The warmth that you had lacked during the days you were asleep, and the warmth that radiated from you whenever you smiled at him.

But you were content with your Cyro Vision, and so he should be too.

With a huff, he pushed your hand off his shoulder. Zandik's voice dripped with cold disdain as he uttered, "Don't be foolish. My actions were solely driven by self-interest. You're nothing more than a valuable asset to me, and I ensured your survival for my own benefit." However, a fleeting glimpse of genuine concern flashed in his eyes, betraying the facade of indifference he desperately clung to.

Your grin only widened, laughing wholeheartedly as you watched him escape, too embarrassed to stay in the same vicinity as you. "There's my Zandik." And you release a breath of relief.

The icy tendrils of his past failure and guilt were momentarily overtaken by memories of you. The sound of your laughter as you pelted him with a massive snowball, your smile when you playfully blow cool air onto his way when he complains it was too hot, and the deadly sheets of ice you conjured to aid in battle.

Somehow, the tingles he felt from your frosted fingertips were better than any warmth fire could bring.

v. realization

But the bitter chill also served as a constant reminder of the emptiness that consumed him when you weren't by his side.

A year had passed since the last he saw you.

Il Dottore remained in the dark about your whereabouts and current status. In the past, whenever you embarked on a mission, you would often find excuses to report back to him, just to have the opportunity to hear his voice, even from miles away. But now, the silence was deafening, and the absence of your updates gnawed at his heart.

You couldn't have died; Dottore was well aware of your immense strength. You were capable of battling on equal footing with Teyvat's mightiest individual, Il Capitano. Moreover, Dottore had made several modifications to your body, ensuring that death would be the least of your concerns. The notion of an enemy overpowering or eliminating you was simply inconceivable. Therefore, the only logical conclusion Dottore could come up with was that you willingly chose to depart from his side.

Il Dottore was well aware that you had left him. Your absence was palpable in the emptiness of your room, void of your presence, devoid of your clothing and your sword. It resembled the stark emptiness you met when you first arrived and were assigned your chamber within the Fatui. The tracker that you've willing injected into your skin was left on your desk, covered in dried blood.

Yes. You decided to leave him. The person who has promised to stay by his side no matter what, even if it meant venturing into the darkest recesses of the Abyss. The one who professed love for him, and whose gentle caresses would convey nothing but adoration in their eyes. You had promised nothing but loyalty, and he believed, trusted you because he knew it was genuine. You had always been truthful and obedient, never desiring to cause him any displeasure.

So why, pray tell, did you have the audacity to leave him after spending an entire century with him? Was it all in vain? Why did you choose to squander such a substantial amount of his time? Did every word that spilled out of your impudent mouth held no true meaning?

You were the one who sought him out. You willingly became an integral part of his life, unwaveringly remaining by his side and causing him both joy and turmoil. You've forcefully intertwined your life with his, so it should be his choice to leave, not yours! That's unfair of you to him.

You, claiming to be his loyal knight until your final moments, turned out to be nothing more than a falsehood. It is only now that Dottore realizes the absurdity of such a belief. You deceived him with your lies. Every promise you made was built upon a foundation of deceit. Why did you choose to betray him? Just why?

Why why why why why!?

It was unbearably cool in his personal office. The biting cold seemed to pierce through his skin, despite his body being engineered to no longer perceive temperature sensations. And yet when he walks toward his laboratory, watching the earliest versions of his segments doing their work without you in sight— he could feel his skin crawl and burn as if he was frostbitten. The sight of endless snow outside only added to the chilling atmosphere, intensifying his feelings since your departure.

"Instead of thinking about what happened in the ruins, just think of me! When you get cold, or see ice and snow, just think of me, and how I'll use my vision to protect you!"

The cold indeed reminded him of you, and in the depths of his despair, Dottore yearned for nothing than to watch his surroundings ablaze just to escape the icy pain that clawed his heart.

Dottore longs for the ability to erase your memory from his mind, desiring to rid himself of the emotions that you have stirred within him. These emotions, which he finds to be a hinderance, have tied his stomach into knots and inflicted a pain in his heart that only your absence could evoke.

Yet, deep down, Dottore couldn't shake the feeling that you wouldn't be able to stay away from him for long. Just like him, you had spent a significant portion of your lives together. You 'loved' him, after all. He was the center of your world.

Therefore, it didn't come as a surprise to Dottore when he found you standing in his chambers once again, your presence both familiar and fazing. You stood there with an air of patience, positioned by the edge of his untouched bed, as if you had been waiting for him all along.

Dottore observed you silently, noting the somber expression that etched your face, your lips pressed into a thin line. Your eyes, once vibrant with a spark, now seemed dull and devoid of their usual radiance. You kept your stare fixed on the ground, avoiding direct eye contact with him, a clear sign of guilt. A quick glance was enough for him to discern the toll your year-long disappearance had taken on you. Your hair appeared disheveled, evidence of neglect, and the presence of bags under your eyes spoke of sleepless nights. Moreover, he observed that you appeared noticeably thinner, as if the weight of your absence had physically worn you down.

As Dottore's gaze lingered upon you, he noticed a subtle tremble in the hand that rested atop the hilt of your sword. It was a nervous gesture, as if you were apprehensive about confronting him, despite having returned to the Fatui for his sake. Cold sweat trickled down your nose, evidence of the tension that filled the air. He observed as you anxiously chewed on your bottom lip, a sign of inner turmoil and unease.

Dottore scowled at your unexpected intrusion, his features contorting with displeasure. Crossing his arms, he assumed a facade of nonchalance, choosing to channel his simmering anger rather than acknowledge the concern he secretly harbored. "Well, well, look who decided to grace me with their presence again," Dottore sneered, his voice dripping with disdain. With an air of authority, he strode purposefully towards you, his steps brimming with an unspoken power. "It seems you've reappeared, after vanishing without so much as a word."

His words seemed to cause you to crumble further, evident by the way you gritted your teeth in discomfort. It took multiple attempts before you could finally open your mouth to speak, your voice strained. "Dottore, I... I didn't mean to cause you any pain. I had my reasons for leaving," you managed to say, your grip tightening on the hilt of your sword.

He recognized it as a telltale sign of your extreme unease, a habit you developed when confronted with uncomfortable situations. The realization he still remembers small habits of yours only fueled his anger, and he shot you a withering glare in response.

Dottore scoffed dismissively, rolling his eyes in a display of derision. "How bold of you to assume that your disappearance caused any pain. You were merely an inconsequential cog in the machinery of the Fatui, and your little stunt only added more irrelevant work to my already burdened table," He retorted, his tone laced with sarcasm.

The sting of his words caused you to wince, feeling the weight of his disdain. "I'm sure you had your reasons," He continued, with a roll of his eyes. "Reasons to be such an inconvenience."

"I thought... I thought it was for the best..." You whisper to yourself, but Dottore heard it loud and clear. A momentary pause ensued as he processed the ridiculousness of your admission.

Dottore's voice grew colder as he responded, his words laced with anger and hurt. "Best for whom, may I ask? Certainly not for me," He retorted sharply. "You think you can just waltz back into my life after all this time and expect everything to be as it was? Well, I assure you, it won't be."

Finally, you summoned the strength to straighten yourself, meeting Dottore's gaze with determination in your eyes. Your hands clenched into fists, revealing the intensity of your emotions. Softly, with the deepest sincerity resonating in your voice, you spoke from the depths of your heart. "No, I don't expect things to be as they were. But I... I miss you, Dottore. I miss being by your side, even if it means facing your anger."

Though, it invoked the opposite reaction you had hoped for.

Even if Dottore had begun to wear a mask, his glare pierces through the material, sending shivers down your spine. Sensing the growing intensity of his anger, you instinctively took a step back. His anger now seemed more potent than anything you had witnessed from him in the past years, intensifying the tension in the room.

"How. Dare. You." With each word, a sharp blade pierced your heart. "How dare you say that after leaving without a word? After spouting promise after promise that you'll always stay by my side?"

You swallowed down the heavy guilt as you looked away from him once more. It was getting harder not to cry in front of him.

"How dare you lie to me?" The words you once spoke, filled with promises and loyalty, were now exposed as empty falsities. The realization of being deceived gnawed at his core, deepening the resentment within him. "Making me believe your worthless vows and wasting my time? I knew you were up to no good from the moment you decided to become my 'friend'," A sarcastic laugh escaped his lips, dripping with scorn. "You liar."

As Dottore turned away from you, ready to leave, panic surged within you. Desperate to salvage the situation, you reached out towards him, "W-wait, Dottore, please! I can explain!"

"What is there to explain?" His voice carried a bitter edge, gaze hardening as he looked back at you. "Clearly, there is nothing more to clarify with your obvious betrayal." His mind had already made up its verdict, leaving little room for further explanation or justification in his eyes.

"Please, Zandik—"

"Zandik is dead!"

In a sudden burst of anger and frustration, Dottore slammed his fist against the wall, catching you off guard and silencing you instantly. The force behind his action was both startling and alarming, as Dottore had never directed such aggression towards you before. His usual demeanor consisted of light annoyance or a gentle scolding whenever you were about to make a stupid decision.

But this display was different—it spoke volumes about the depth of his hurt and anger. It was clear that he was more wounded than he was willing to admit, and the ache in your own heart mirrored his pain.

"Zandik is no more," He faced you again, this time, with his chin up. A condescending gaze set upon your anxious form, as if you were nothing but one of the mere hundreds of the Fatui soldiers that serve under his name. "There is only Il Dottore, the 2nd of the Fatui Harbingers. You are to speak with me with nothing but respect." He spat. "Do you understand?"

You couldn't believe what you were hearing. Throughout your life, you had served Dottore faithfully, dedicating yourself to his cause. While he had spoken to you with a similar tone in the past, this instance felt markedly different. The force of his words seemed to carry the weight of his power, suffocating and overwhelming.

It was as if the pedestal on which you had placed him had crumbled, revealing a darker side that left you shaken to your core. A side that Dottore would've never shown you if hadn't acted rashly. At that moment, you couldn't help but empathize with the countless soldiers who had felt the brunt of his authority.

"My command over you is absolute," Dottore declared with unwavering finality, his scowl revealing the sharp edges of his teeth. "You are to leave and never return. Now." His words hung in the air like an unbreakable decree, leaving no room for negotiation or reconsideration. The power he held over you was palpable, an undeniable reminder of the hierarchy that governed your relationship.

You stood there, dumbfounded, managing with the shock of his words. It took a moment for the reality of the situation to sink in, leaving you suspended in a state of disbelief. The weight of his decision bore down on you, leaving you breathless and overwhelmed.

His hand reached for the handle of his door, "I am giving you a chance. Do not put it to waste. Leave, before the Tsaritsa herself bestow you her punishment for your betrayal."

A sudden loud thump from behind Dottore made him pause, his attention shifting to the source of the sound. He could hear your shaky breaths and faint sniffles, struggling to form the words that clung at the back of your throat.

Dottore's instinct urged him to turn away, to escape the burden of your words and the sight of your wretched state. Every fiber of his being resisted the pull to stay and listen, to confront the emotions that threatened to entangle him further. Yet, there was a flicker of hesitation within him, a battle raging in his mind between the desire to leave and the nagging curiosity that lingered. A fleeting moment of uncertainty held him in place, suspended between the need to continue with his work and the possibility of facing the depths of your anguish.

It could be more of your lies, Dottore argued to himself. He refused to be a fool once more toward you. And yet...

"I'm so sorry Dottore... I.... I-I just felt so alone..." You started, attempting to quell your tears and wiping them off with your hands. "Ever since we joined the Fatui, you've barely had the time for yourself... Sure, we're now to the point that we don't have to eat, or sleep but... It was always work— since when did we last spend time together?"

The notion of necessity echoed in his mind, provoking questions that had long been suppressed. How could this sudden discontentment emerge after a century of unwavering dedication? You had been instrumental in carrying out his missions, assisting in his projects, and even co-creating the segments alongside him. When did it all begin to matter? Dottore hardened his gaze onto the door before him, refusing to face you.

"If you were lonely, you could've spoken to the segments instead. You know how busy I am."

You let out a small, weak, humorless laugh. "Yeah, well, they're not complete, remember?"

Dottore frowned at that, "What do you mean?"

"You removed their memories of me because... Well, you said that I was distracting..." You reminded him, a sad smile on your face. "I took it as a compliment back then. Even if I tried to talk to them... They'll just ignore me and look at me as if I'm a stranger... Funny because you do the same thing..."

Ah, yes. He did do that. Right, it was the main reason why the segments were so efficient with their work. It made him realize how much you were a hindrance to his progress. A distraction that causes him to feel unwanted emotions and urges, indulging in senseless activities like you once had when you were both younger...

It annoyed him how it seemed his make his heart clench at those memories.

"I'm not suited to be your knight anymore, not when I have little use for you now." That made him turn his head to look at you, only to see you on your knees, trembling and holding back yourself from sobbing, to continue speaking before he stops listening. "I... The Fatui can give you everything you need now... You have soldiers working for you, even the segments! Sure, you send me into missions and tell me I'm still useful but..."

Your words hung into the air, your bottom lip quivered as you forced yourself to continue. "I couldn't even protect you from that." Your eyes glanced to the mask he wore, and he immediately knew what you were talking about.

His hand went underneath his mask, the feeling of the deep, jagged scars that has healed over time through his gloves disgusts him. The scar on his face was something he deeply abhorred, but he never blamed you for it.

"I promised to protect you, and yet... I let that happen..." Your voice quivered with a mix of despair and frustration, tears staining the cold tile floor beneath you.

The mention of his scar, a symbol of his vulnerability and pain, struck a chord within both of you. Your teeth clenched, and your gaze remained fixed on the floor, burning with a mixture of self-loathing and anguish. The raw honesty in your words reverberated through the room, casting shadows of doubt upon the promises that had once bound you together.

The mask he wore, the facade that shielded his true emotions, served as a constant reminder of your perceived shortcomings and the unfulfilled expectations you had placed upon yourself.

"What kind of knight am I? I know how much you hate that scar— and I hate the fact that I could've prevented it!" You cried, "I hate seeing your mask, because it just reminds me that I'm a failure that couldn't uphold their promises!"

...Just like the deep-rooted resentment Dottore harbored towards your Vision, you found yourself consumed by an equal loathing for his mask. It was a peculiar parallel, where two individuals were constantly reminded of their own failures in the presence of one another.

As the silence stretched on, punctuated only by your inconsolable sobs, Dottore's demeanor remained unreadable. His lips pressed into a thin line, his expression an enigmatic mask. The absence of any immediate reaction from him fueled your misery, increasing the uncertainty of his true feelings.

At that moment, you yearned for a glimmer of understanding, a sign that he cared or acknowledged your pain. But the void of his response deepened the ache within you, amplifying the sense of loneliness and despair.

"I love you, I really do! There's nothing in this world that could ever stop me from loving you." You professed loudly, hoping to reach him, "From our childhood, to the Akademiya and joining here at the Fatui, my heart has undoubtedly belonged to you! You think I did all of that for nothing?"

"And when you accepted my feelings, I was so happy!" You hung your head low, trying to talk through hiccups and sobs. You couldn't stop your tears even if you wanted to. "But I know that Zandik loved me more than Il Dottore ever has." The pain in your voice as you utter your words made Dottore's poise for a moment, "I don't even know if Il Dottore loves me..."

Your words struck him harder than he liked. It was an absurd statement. His past self? Loving you more than him? It doesn't make sense.

But as he watched you sob, he couldn't help but wonder if his feelings for you were genuine or merely a facade he had constructed to maintain control over you.

Did he truly love you, or was it just an illusion he had allowed himself to indulge to keep you in check? You were the one to confessed to him, and love is such a foreign concept to Dottore. The thought haunted him, unraveling the carefully constructed walls around his heart and exposing a raw and uncertain truth.

"The day Zandik died was I guess the day your love for me died." You managed a weak laugh. A laugh to shake away your pain, yet so sad and dull. Your laugh shouldn't sound like that. He hated it.

Was he the reason for it as well?

"I tried to move on because I knew you can... But I just couldn't..." You whispered, wrapping your arms tightly around yourself for comfort. Your voice trembled with emotion as you continued, "I can't stand being away from you, I can't bear not being able to hear your voice, to see you, to be with you." You look up at him with tearful eyes, broken and full of regret.

"Please... give me one more chance," You pleaded, your voice filled with desperation. The tears streamed down your face, but determination shone through your eyes. "I won't complain anymore, I won't ask for anything... I'll accept you give me. I'll be your loyal and dedicated assistant, always by your side!"

In the midst of your cries, Dottore has stumbled upon a realization.

The cold, snow, and ice became incessant reminders of you, and it annoyed him to no end. As the days turned into months during your disappearance, his agitation grew, fueled by a mix of anger and longing that he couldn't quite suppress. He continued to send search parties after you, under the pretense of seeking revenge for your betrayal, but deep down, he knew there was more to it. Beneath the facade of vengeance, a part of him yearned for your return, unable to ignore the void you had left behind.

After all those times, did he simply miss you?

Even after you left, his hand would unconsciously reach out, longing for your presence beside him. Dottore found himself expecting to see you around every corner, only to be greeted by the stark emptiness of his laboratory, which he had never truly noticed until your absence. The flavors and aromas of the dishes you used to cook for him lingered in the air, teasing his senses with memories.

The familiar tunes you hummed while working echoed in his mind, and the pleasant chatter that once served as background noise now felt like a void in his ears.

Your absence had woven itself into the fabric of his daily life, leaving behind a profound emptiness that he struggled to fill.

He could vividly recall the echoes of those emotions from his time at the Akademiya when you were obligated to attend classes. Dottore— Zandik would insist that you not waste your time with mundane lectures when you could be assisting him in his groundbreaking projects.

He would nag you, trying to convince you to prioritize his work over your studies, much to your amusement. The memory of your laughter at his feeble excuses and playful banter warmed his heart, reminding him of the deep bond you shared.

Dottore's gaze remained fixed on your trembling figure, your hands tightly balled into fists. You couldn't bring yourself to meet his eyes. The fear of facing how he truly feels held you back.

Another realization was drawn to him.

He had always admired your resilience, your ability to endure even the harshest of circumstances without shedding a tear. It both intrigued and frustrated him, for he had never quite understood the source of your inner strength. As children, he had witnessed you gritting your teeth and smiling through injuries, embracing the pain as a catalyst for your determination. It was a quality that set you apart, that made you formidable.

Was this pain different then? There was no physical damage on your body, and yet you were here. You were one of the strongest people he has ever known, but you were on your knees, breaking down in tears and pathetically begging for his forgiveness.

His chest felt unbearable tight, seeing you so weak, so vulnerable. The image clashed with the image he had of you in his mind—strong, resilient, and always composed. Seeing you in such a state shattered his perception of your unwavering strength. Between the two of you, you were more emotional than him. But for you to grovel to his feet? It was something he'd never thought he'd ever see.

Oh, how easy for him to just kick you. To toss you on the ground as if you were nothing, and he knew you'd take it rather than fighting back and hurt him.

How come you'd never lay a hand on him? To make him feel the pain he knew a sinner like him deserves? When he has hurt you more than he could have ever known? You were suffering in silence since you only wanted to please him, to never bother him, and yet he was only ignorant to the signs, even if they're growing more and more obvious.

Your patience seemed endless when it came to him, doing everything you could do for him; exploring the most dangerous locations of Teyvat, piling bodies after bodies for his sake, and following every single command he gives you. Only for a mere hum of acknowledgement, a small smile, or nothing at all from him.

Has he shown any sort of gratitude toward you? You loved him so unconditionally, and you get little to none in return. Dottore couldn't even offer you the bare minimum.

You've always been like that, doing everything he says just to please him, to be of service, to be by his side. A massive flaw that he was well aware of ever since you were young.

Dottore wasn't even sure if the two of you were in a romantic relationship. It seemed so one-sided now that he looked back into his memories, even more so ever since the both of you joined the Fatui...

Forgiveness shouldn't be earned by a mere apology. You'd have to work for it, suffer the consequences of your misdemeanor, and he will grant you another chance. That's how it should be, how Dottore wanted it to be.

And yet, when you rose your head to look at him, nothing but remorse and resignation in your face... He couldn't bring himself to— not when he should be the one apologizing to you.

"You... you don't have to love me back..." You say quietly, snapping Dottore's attention back to you. "I-I promise... It was selfish of me to just walk out— punish me, I don't care! Just take me back, please—"

A resounding smack reverberated through the room, cutting you off. You recoil from the slap that landed on your cheek, you squeezed your eyes shut as your skin throbbed from the pain. You bit your tongue to silence yourself.

Dottore slowly got down to his knees right in front of you. As much as he didn't want to hurt you, he needed you to get your shit back together. This wasn't you. Or at least, this was a side of you that he has never seen, nor meant for his eyes. It didn't feel right to see you trembling before him, to be so afraid.

"You should have never came back." He heard you take in a sharp inhale, yet your eyes remained shut, too uncertain, too scared to look at him in the eye. "It would've been better for you to leave me." Your brow furrowed at his words.

He knew that you loved him for who he was. You probably knew him more than he knew himself, but could he say the same for you? Even if the answer was no, if Dottore should stay the same, not changing himself after this occurrence, he knows that you'd still love him.

Slipping off the gloves that he has always worn, and the mask that he had recently adorned, his hands reached for your face. Hesitantly, he cupped your cheeks into his hands. Your eyes snapped open as you jerked back from his touch. You seemed more shocked that he attempted to fondly hold you rather than hit you.

It stirred unexplainable emotions in his chest... Emotions that he'd rather not experience more, and a bitter taste settling on his tongue. He tried again, unsure if he was doing it correctly. Your discomfort didn't help either.

Dottore has never been honest on how he truly felt. He didn't even know what he felt half the time, mostly because he had only felt them with you. These emotions, these feelings, joy, anger, sadness, loneliness, and perhaps love; if it wasn't for you, he would've never known how it feels to be... more than the freak that people has entitled him to be. More than a heretic or a mad scientist. You had always treated him as if he was a person worth of your love and affections.

He should've been more honest.

"You... are worth more..." Your eyes widened at the words he spoke, "Worth more than I could ever admit... All your efforts, warmth... They have gone unnoticed... Ignored..."

"Zan- Dottore..." He could feel you shaking against his bare hands, the texture of your skin, the curve of your cheeks, he could feel them now. His hands tingled in a way he has never felt before, pulling you closer to him.

He wishes that you called him Zandik instead.

"You are nothing in comparison to all the achievements that I have accomplished. You are annoying, loud, and always stirring up trouble in my laboratory... And yet, during your disappearance..."

He shouldn't have turned a blind eye in everything you have done for him.

There were a lot of things he wanted to say, things he knew you needed to desperately hear, but they got stuck in his throat. Dottore has never been honest, it was easier to ignore it than confront things that were unknown. How ironic, given that he was a scientist that always pursued the unknown.

Nonetheless, you understood. You always did. He needn't speak for you to get him.

Dottore could've claimed that he reached to this point all on his own, with his unparalleled genius and dedication. But undoubtedly, you were there throughout his whole life, from his brightest days and past all his hardships. You've supported him more than anyone else.

And he made another mistake; letting you believe that you're nothing to him. That he doesn't love you, and that you were merely just a tool. No, that's not true. Not when his heart, his cold, dead heart, could only beat for you, and that without you, he was incomplete as you are. Lost, and lonely.

"I realized that fact too late..." Dottore closed his eyes, pressing his forehead against yours. You couldn't help but let out a sob, your heart pounding against your chest at the sudden honesty he was pouring onto you. Oh how long you've yearned for this moment, it made you tremble.

It was quiet, below a whisper that Dottore wasn't sure if you heard it... But for you, it was loud and clear, his words repeating again and again inside your head.

"I..."

vi. devotion

"What took you so long?"

As you step foot into his office, barely making it past the threshold, he already hit you a question with the most accusing tone ever. However, you respond with a genuine, warm smile, immediately feeling a sense of familiarity despite his prickly demeanor. Playfully, you quip, "Six months away on a mission, and this is the welcome I receive, babe?"

Dottore responded with a scoff and a roll of his eyes, a scowl forming on his lips, one that you've grown so in love with. His gaze fixated on your disheveled appearance, taking in the swollen state of your lips, the trickle of blood staining your chin, and the messy opening of your collar, revealing a mosaic of red and purple marks adorning your collarbones and neck. His scowl only deepened upon witnessing the spectacle, and even behind his mask, you could sense the piercing daggers of his glare aimed directly at you.

"I received news of your arrival hours ago, and yet you decided to take your sweet time before gracing my office with your presence?" He ceased his writing and put his pen down on his desk. Oooo, he's serious.

"Awww, miss me so much, you keep up to date on everything I do?" You cooed at him teasingly at him and decided to push his papers to the side and sit on his desk, directly in front of him. He chose to ignore your remark.

"What were you doing?" He asked, more inquisitive this time, leaning towards you. You responded with a playful gesture, pursing your lips in a thoughtful manner, feigning deep contemplation over the endeavors you had undoubtedly embarked upon your return.

Just by this, he already seemed unimpressed.

"Oh, you know, I passed by some cuties to your office, so I decided to have some fun!" You smirked when he crossed his arms, his scowl deepened when you pointed at the red marks all over you. It was as if a bunch of sharks had decided to latch onto your skin and bite you.

"So you cheated on me." He bluntly stated. "Again."

You gave him an incredulous look as you let out an overexaggerated gasp. "Oh my darling! I would never think of cheating with you!" You dramatically cried out, "You'd cut me up to pieces and put my parts in individual jars up for display!"

A faint twitch appeared at the corners of Dottore's lips and you swiftly abandoned your playful facade. "Hey," You pouted, your voice tinged with a hint of warning, "Don't get any ideas. I don't like that look on your face."

Dottore's scowl suddenly transformed into a wide grin, revealing the sharp teeth that you've always adored. "Well, my dear, if you were preserved in a jar, at least I would have the assurance that you'd remain there, looking exquisitely beautiful for me, without any possibility of you straying." He playfully remarked, his words laced with a hint of possessiveness that you couldn't help but find endearing.

You bark out a laugh, shaking your head. “That’s morbid, love.” He tutted at that and let out a small ‘hmph!’ in disappointment. He’s so cute. “Besides, I’m not cheating!”

“They are segments.” Dottore deadpanned, his scowl returning to his face, but you could tell it was in a much playful manner. 

You raise a brow at that, “Uh, segments of you. Designed after you. They think like you. They are literally you, but just a specific age, ‘cuz you’re crazy like that.” 

"But they could never compare to the real deal," Dottore persisted, his voice carrying a hint of seriousness. "The true original. The one who created all of them," He declared, pointing confidently at himself, and you almost imploded trying to hold back your laughter.

“I’m sorry, babe, I couldn’t help myself.” You cooed, sliding off his desk and decided to make yourself comfortable on his lap instead, “They’re irresistible.” Dottore looked extremely disappointed at you, his arms snaking around your waist and pulling you closer to him. He held nothing but disdain at the sight of the marks on your neck. 

“Yes, so much, so you let them bite you all over.” 

“They missed me. They only bite because it’s a trait of yours.”

“You have no evidence of this so-called trait of mine.”

“Babe, you for real?” Before you could say another word, Dottore seized you by the collar and pressed his lips against yours with an insatiable hunger. The force of the kiss left you breathless, a testament to the months he had spent yearning for your presence, and you decide to kiss his segments before him? The one you’ve known the longest? He tilted his head to deepen the kiss, and before you got yourself lost against his lips, he bit your bottom lip. Hard.

“Ah, fuck!” You cursed out loud, furrowing your brow at the big bruise on your lips. It tasted raw, the fragile skin easily broken with his sharp teeth. More blood dribbled down your chin as you stared at him, your turn to look so unimpressed. “No evidence, my ass! Stop biting so hard, I’m going to die of blood loss.” 

Dottore looked so proud of himself, smirking at you. “I have no idea what you are talking about, my dearest.”

You could only scoff when he licked his lips, definitely enjoying the taste of your blood. “Maybe if you were more honest, then I’d stop making out the segments behind your back.” That seemed to pique his interest, his expression reflecting an internal struggle as he debated whether to succumb to your obvious attempt at manipulation.

"I'm sorry, dear, I love you."

"See," You grin at yourself. "It's not so hard now, is it?"

Years had passed since that one intense confrontation, yet Dottore still struggled to openly express his deepest emotions, but you had come to accept it as a part of who he was. It didn't pose a significant problem for you, as you understood his unique way of conveying love. In his own enigmatic manner, he had discovered alternative ways to demonstrate the depth of his affection. He had shed his inhibitions and now allowed his love to flow freely, unencumbered by the barriers he had once erected.

Dottore hummed, "You know, my dear, I still think you'd make a splendid addition to my collection, preserved in a jar for all eternity." His playful tone hinted at his twisted sense of endearment, a dark humor that was uniquely his.

"I take it back." You glared at him, shivering at the thought. "You're mad."

A mischievous smile danced on Dottore's lips as he teased, brushing his gloved fingers gently against your cheek. "Ah, but my dear, it's precisely that madness that captivates you, isn't it?"

With a huff, you wrapped your arms around his neck, burying your face in the comfort of his shoulders. "Lucky for you, that's true," you admitted, your voice filled with a mix of exasperation and affection. "Missed you,"

He held you tight in his embrace, reciprocating the warmth of your hug. Picking up his pen once again, he returned to his work, the presence of you on his lap bringing a sense of completeness. It felt like home. "And I've missed you too, my knight," He whispered, his words blending seamlessly with the scratching of the pen against the paper, as you both settled into the comforting rhythm of each other's presence.

- ̥۪͙۪˚┊❛❛ If you like this a lot, consider reblogging! I'll appreciate it very very much! Don't repost and/or translate my work anywhere. ❜❜ ┊˚ ̥۪͙۪◌

[wernher-von-brawny]

Just to be clear, fuck the orange turd forever.

Now that that's been made clear, how the fuck is this what our political system has come to?

I mean, I know how it happened:

Reagan won in two landslides and claimed his mandate was to “unleash the free market” (AKA deregulate corporate power).

Clinton immolated the DNC on the altar of Barry Goldwater and “end[ed] welfare as we know it” (AKA finished deregulating corporate power).

Bush 9/11ed away privacy, militarized civilian life, and emptied the treasury into the pockets of the military-industrial complex (AKA corporate power).

So corporate power now had all the money, no oversight, and a revolving door that essentially cast all political & government actors as either past, current or future employees.

They captured — purchased, essentially; after all, America is a business, right? — American government, but even that was not enough.

They wanted the world, so Bush snatched up a bunch of it for them, and all at the bargain price of… well, millions of lives, America's tenuous moral standing, faith in democracy, whatever trust in government remained after the 2000 election, yada, yada, yada…

And when the country was in danger of revolt over how badly Bush fucked things up, corporate power tapped Obama to get “the left” to STFU — “It’s a complex and difficult situation, but we’re looking forward and not back.” — and get back to work.

Unlike left-wing rage against Bush (like the Occupy movement), which chose to diffuse and dissolve rather than be captured by the DNC (AKA corporate power), right-wing rage at Bush was easily corralled into “alt-right” cadres like The Tea Party, which gave corporate power the impression they had them leashed.

But then Trump the TV Evangelist came along and gave the right an even more focused Daddy upon which to centralize their obeisance.

Just as Reagan had been a joke in 1976 but became President in 1980, Trump went from a punchline for Seth Meyers at the White House Correspondent's Dinner to the savior of White America.

And the DNC aided and abetted his campaign by putting the most smug and unlikable candidate since Mitt Romney up against him.

So despite his intentions, Trump actually won, got into office with no plan — again, he had no intention of actually winning — and in that power vacuum, all manner of fascist creeps came in.

But where Reagan’s creeps at least had some dim memory of the shared sacrifice of WW2 and the promises made, this generation had never known America before the Reagan Revolution. They had no concept of what “governing”, only “winning”; they only knew that “America is a business, and the purpose of a business is to get rich.”

And so, continuing the tradition of Reagan, Clinton and Bush, they put hard, focused, relentless labor into their evangel: excising all vestigial traces of The New Deal (AKA human decency) from government policy.

They claim to act on behalf of “godliness”, but their concept of God is not of a unifying love that bonds us all in common cause, but of a Daddy who must be obeyed on pain of eternal damnation.

And so of course the man-child at the center of this movement believes that laws and procedures are just red tape and inconveniences; that whatever stands between him and his immediate oral-stage gratification is a perversion of the natural order of the universe.

And so of course his millions of poorly-educated ( strategically and deliberately so; Reagan may have started the War on Education, but Bush and No Child Left Behind sure the fuck finished it, didn't they? ) followers begin chanting, “Daddy's right! Do what Daddy says! Saying no to Daddy makes Baby Jesus cry!”

And so of course the corporate assets who occupy the Supreme Court — when they’re not vacationing in their motor homes, amirite? — say, “Well, it’s a complex and difficult situation, but we’re looking forward and not back.”

And so of course here we are. The DNC has fully transmogrified into an entity right-wing enough to attract common cause from the type of Republicans whose policies created these conditions in the first place.

Liz Cheney and Ana Navarro are pro-Kamala. “Real Republicans” see voting Democrat as “the responsible choice.”

And if any on "The Left" are not also declaring common cause with the DNC — genocide, schmenocide, Democracy is at stake! — they are cast as unserious people who are aiding and abetting the enemy.

Just like Ralph Nader did in 2000 or, IDK, Jill Stein in 2016, by daring to run for President.

BTW — Ever notice how nobody cites Ross Perot in 1992 when they’re shitting on third-party candidates? When your guy wins, it’s a good thing, I guess. So much for “core values”.

Ah, well… It is what it is, right? We Gotta Do What We Gotta Do To Protect Democracy (2024)(2024).

Can't wait to see what they come up with for We Gotta Do What We Gotta Do To Protect Democracy (2026)(2026).

And don’t get me started on We Gotta Do What We Gotta Do To Protect Democracy (2028(2028) — amirite? ( The ladies know what I’m talkin’ ‘bout. )

And hey… maybe… just maybe… the real “How the fuck is this what our political system has come to?” was the friends we made along the way.

Hmmm. 🤔

It's an easy choice. #HarrisWalz

[selamat-linting]

another thing i forgot about the fic, is mostly how injuries are treated? well, youre not supposed to give ice cold baths for fevers. you dont want to make them shiver more than what theyre already doing. also why is there no tylenol or aspirin in the first aid kit? even my workplace first aid kit has one.

and irl, its not wise to just patch up a wound that are cause by (real) glass (motherfucker! cry me a river). there's always a chance one of the small shards embedded deep inside the flesh and really fuck you up. in a proper medical setting, severe or really large wounds caused by glass get x-rayed to make sure nothing got inside the body. disclaimer : i did not found this out because of the drama last year. i figured it out when i was researching for a shatterbird centric fic i was making several years ago. Its a totally different fandom, and i totally never use this knowledge to win any internet arguments. promise :)

another thing is, the fic has a lot of gratituous sex scenes that despite i enjoyed, was better off written as a series of one shots after the fic was done. a sequel, basically, instead of being crammed in between the plots. kinda fucks up the pacing. its good, but it deserves to stand on its own as a stand alone.

and the final stuff, geez why is every fic always have the canonical female love interest evil and then suffer in agony before dying. I know early 2010s fandom are sexist but good god its really something else when you revisit it again. like, shut the fuck up. you dont have to make her into a complete villain to break off their relationship. also its kinda glaring that [redacted]'s other best friend (who happen to be fat) is conveniently written out despite his closeness and the fact that he was just as successful even if its in a different place. 2013 fandom amirite?

on a lighter note, this fic is also doing that bit where everyone is shipped off and the random leftover characters get randomly shipped together. it usually doesnt work for me but... dean and colt actually look cute. helps that its not a case of pairing together but also a way for [redacted] to accept his feelings and a reasonable explanation on why his bestie isnt so mad that he's fucking their supposed enemy. Obsessed that theyre just as haunted by [redacted] as they are irl. tbf i am a sucker for enemies to lovers.

[marat]

god. jean paul marat. On the verge of death, writing his will and all, and when he hears that the estates general is convening, he drags himself out of bed and resumes political writing. jean paul marat, chased out of the country, forced to live in basements and sewers, keeps up writing as often as he can, while his printing presses are smashed and he's constantly forced to flee. jean paul marat, constantly suffering from a painful disease, and while he was a doctor, renowned for curing incurable diseases, all he could do was treat the pain enough to allow him to keep working for the sake of the republic. jean paul marat, how he had to retire from public life when his illness became unbearable, and how he kept constantly writing, as now the convention now saw fit to ignore him completely, but the people refused to abandon him and thus he had to keep writing. jean paul marat and how he was murdered brutally after opening his home to someone who sent him a letter pleading with him for his aid. jean paul marat and the way she said he, as the friend of the people, owed her sanctuary as she was suffering. god. jean paul marat and how his brief martyrdom was subsequently followed by centuries of slander and dehumanization. god jean paul marat amirite

[alovesongshewrote]

If you’re taking requests, maybe something about Doux finding the reader absolutely delirious from lack of sleep? I may or may not have gotten literally any sleep last night and although I managed to get through my morning routine pretty efficiently I FEEL my body just wiping out. I will be comatose within the hour.

Sleep, Darling | Hisirdoux Casperan x Reader

Plot:  you’ve been awake for too long and it is not doing you any favours.  Thank god for punk wizards who care about your wellbeing, amirite lads?  (Also, the pure Irony that this is getting posted at like, 2:40 am where i am, rip me i guess)

Word Count: 2,292

Warnings:  A bit of blood is mentioned in passing, the reader isn’t human and probably has adhd or smthn.  Also, Friends is mentioned, like, the tv show, so that’s a thing!

A/N:   if you look closely, you can actually see me projecting onto this one.  I hope you got some sleep anon.

Tags:   @furblrwurblr @einahpetsyarcip @sorrels-scribbling @anxious-stitcher @alive-and-afraid @animedweeb333 @douxiesdamsel @saroski05

Time isn’t real.  It’s a social construct made to bring order to the general chaos that is human existence.  That was why you were up at 5 a.m for the second, maybe third, night in a row.  Was it healthy?  Probably not, but you didn’t need sleep, you needed answers.  Answers to what?  Who knows at this point, honestly.

You couldn’t say you were surprised when you finally noticed the late, or early hour.  You just shrugged it off and went “fuck it, all-nighter,” which was fine for the moment.  But time’s a bitch, and that moment was over pretty fast.  By noon, you were ready to collapse.  The three cups of coffee did not help.  Instead, they made you vibrate at a frequency that could quite possibly break glass.  As much as this sucked for you, it was worse for your lovely friend and co-worker, Hisirdoux Casperan.

Now, our boi Douxie was and is madly in love with you, but shhh, it’s a secret.  You also love him, and that’s a secret too.  Neither of these secrets are well kept, and the only reason you aren’t together is general stupidity.  Literally, anyone else who watches the two of you interacting can tell that you're in love.  Hell, half the town assumes you’re together already.  The other half keeps trying to get you together.  It is not working very well.  But that’s all a digression.  What you really need to know is that Douxie loves you and watching you suffer from a lack of sleep was Not A Pleasant Experience.  You were delirious, shaky, and constantly off-balance.  You could work well enough, but it was clear that your health was not in the same zone.

The final straw came when you cut your hand on broken glass.  You’d dropped a cup, and instead of using magic, you’d tried to fix the mess by hand.  That plan did not work, and you received a bloody slash across your palm for your troubles.

“Ah.  Fuck,” you said, thinking you were whispering but instead speaking at a normal volume.

“What’s wrong, love?”

“‘S nothing, I’ve got it,” you did not got it, especially not in this state, and Douxie had the good sense to figure that out.  The blood was a pretty good hint though.

“Oh, fuzzbuckets.”

“I told you, I’m toooootally fine, there is nothing to worry about.”

“Here, (Y/N), let me help you-”

“No, no, this is, this is-” it was then that your sleep-deprived brain decided to cut off your train of thought and replace it with another, more chaotic train.  You stopped talking and just stared at Douxie for a solid minute.  Or at least it felt like a solid minute.  Time isn’t real, remember that.

“(Y-Y/N)?  You alright there, darling?”

“You’re really cute, did you know that?  Like… really cute.  Steve was right, you could be a model.”

“I-”

“Also, just gonna put it out there, I freakin’ love it when you call me darling.  Like, I know you call most people darling, but it makes me feel special.  Don’t ask why, it just does.”

Douxie wasn’t planning on asking why.  He wasn’t really planning on anything.  Your sleep-deprived half-confession had turned him from a capable individual into a blushing mess in less than a second.  You always had that effect on him, but it looked like your exhausted state was giving you a bit of an edge.

“Oh, sorry, I made it weird.  Anyway, do you think if I brewed my next coffee with Monster instead of water it would wake me up?   Because I’m still tired, and it isn’t fun.”

“I- you- I’m-”

“I think I might try it, honestly.”

“Ok, how about you don’t do that,”  Archie said, swooping in, literally and figuratively, to save the day, “Douxie, can you please get (Y/N)’s hand patched up?  It looks quite painful and they’re dripping blood onto the carpet.”

You were, in fact, dripping blood onto the carpet.  That wasn’t good, “Oh, that’s- I’m sorry.”

“Don’t fret, just go do something about that hand,” with that, Archie smacked Douxie upside the head in an attempt to snap him out of his flustered state.  It was super effective!

“Ahh, yeah.   C’mon, (Y/N), let’s,,, go,,, fix,,, that.”

“Ok,”  you stood, too tired to protest, and followed Douxie into the back of the bookstore, which was literally just his apartment.  

It was a nice place.  Very cozy, very him.  It made you want to curl up and take a nap, but to be fair, literally everything made you want to curl up and take a nap at the moment.  Regardless, his home made you feel warm and fuzzy on the inside and you never wanted to leave it.  Maybe it was the interior decorating, but you knew it was because your favourite person lived there.  What you didn’t know, or didn’t realize, was that you’d just spoken your entire thought process out loud and Douxie heard every word of it.  Once again, the boy was a blushing mess.  If you were awake enough to process things, you would have found it cute.  Or you’d be dead from embarrassment, that one is a bit of a toss-up.

Fighting through his flustered state, Douxie pulled you into the bathroom and collected a first aid kit from under the counter.  While he focused on getting things done, you curled into a ball in his bathtub.  For some reason, your exhausted brain decided that sitting on the edge of the bathtub simply did not Vibe™ but sitting inside the tub was better than nothing, and so you just,,, curled up there.  Douxie was only a little surprised to see you there.

“(Y/N)?”

“D’you remember that time on Friends when Winona Ryder played a closeted lesbian?  That was a fuckin’ trip, man.”

“(Y/N), darling-”

“That whole episode is just- it’s just strange.”

“(Y/N)-”

“Hehe, Stranger Things.”

“(Y/N), love, I need to see your hand.”

“Oh, fuck, yeah, I forgot.  Here,” you sat up, extending your hand out to the wizard.  He took it, sitting on the edge of the bathtub which was fine for him to do, I guess.  Not you though, you were stuck in bathtub jail for sleep deprivation crimes.

You squinted up at his face as he tended to the nasty scratch you’d given yourself.  You didn’t have the capacity to focus on what he was doing, so instead you focused on him.  He was pretty, as you’d said before, but that was always true.  At that exact moment, his brows were furrowed in concentration, his eyes concerned and his jaw set.  His hands were steadier than yours could ever hope to be, especially since you hadn’t been sleeping.  Overall, he looked kind of mad, so you sunk down into your bath-prison, silent and waiting for him to finish so you could get back to work.

Douxie was not mad at you.  He was upset that you hadn’t been sleeping, but he wasn’t mad.  He was just worried for your health.  Your wizard did not appreciate seeing you shaking and sleep-deprived.  He didn’t appreciate it when your current state led you to injure yourself, either.

He wrapped up your hand and gave it a small pat, “Done.  Now, come on, you’re taking a nap.”

His voice surprised you.  It was gentle, calm, not at all angry like you’d suspected.  You found yourself so lost in it that you didn’t realize what he’d said until he said your name, trying to snap you out of whatever haze you were in.

“Oh, wait, what?  No, shit, I have to get back to work-”

“No, you need sleep.”

“Sleep is for the weak, I need to go-” you stood and almost fell over.  You probably would have broken something if Douxie didn’t catch you.  You hadn’t exactly expected to end up in his arms today, and despite the heat rising in your face and neck, you were not complaining.

“(Y/N)-”

“I’m sorry, Douxie, I-”

“You need to sleep.  Please, (Y/N), don’t make me use a spell on you.”

You froze for a second before a smirk crept onto your face, “You wouldn’t.”

“I-”

“You wouldn’t use a spell on meeeeee-” the smirk grew into a full smile as you let yourself go limp, forcing him to move his hands to support you better and pull you closer to him.  Was that your plan?  Maybe.  Was it part of a second, bigger plan?  Also yes.

“You wanna bet?”

“Sure.”

“I-” and then he went silent.  There was a moment of tension where you just stared into each other’s eyes, holding your breath to see what the other person would do.  Your gaze fell to his lips as his fell to yours.  For that moment, your thoughts began to wander far out of your control.  Douxie’s mind was also running rampant but in a different direction.  You were right, he thought.  He couldn't use magic on you.  As far as he knew, you were a human.  Just a mortal being who crawled their way into his life and stayed there, improving the quality of it greatly.  If there was even the slightest chance that a spell may have negative side effects, which most sleep spells did, he wouldn’t dare risk it, especially not on you.  He sighed, tightening his grip on your waist, “You’re right.”

“What?”  Oop, plan going sideways, PLAN GOING SIDEWAYS!

“I’m- not going to use magic on you,” he helped you to stand, and moved to take a step back before you grabbed his hoodie and pulled him back to you, ignoring the sharp sting in your hand.

“Ok, wait, wait, wait, wait, wait, wait, wait, hang on there wizard boy-” you took a moment to pull yourself out of the bathtub entirely, “You can’t give up that easily.”

“Wha-”

“Come onnnnnn, make it fun, make it exciting.  Put a spell on me or whatever, just-” you went quiet for a second, but for once you weren’t distracted.  Just quiet.  You had to face facts.  Your plan had failed, and now you had nothing but the truth.

“(Y/N)?”

“Just make my brain stop.  For just two seconds.”

“What?”

“Please.  I’m running on a motor and I can’t stop myself.  I haven’t slept and I have no choice in the matter.”

“(Y/N)-”

“Look, just, take away my free-will if you have to.  Knock me out, magic or otherwise, I just want five seconds where I’m not on hyperdrive,” you were standing on your own now, though Douxie’s arms were still wrapped around you and you hadn’t let go of his hoodie, “Please.”

The bathroom was silent for a minute.  It took that long for Douxie to process what you’d just said.  You feared, for that moment, that you’d said too much.  You hadn't.  Not to him, anyway.

“Come on.”

“What?”

“Come on,” he said, picking you up, effortlessly sweeping you off your feet.

“Wait, what!?” your voice was slightly more frantic, surprise lacing through your words.

“There’s more than one way to get a person to sleep.”

“Oh-?”

He didn’t respond to your question, instead, he carried you out the door and into what you could only assume was his room.  You had no choice but to wrap your arms around his neck and cling to him for dear life until he set you down on the bed.

“Stay here, okay?  I’m going to make you some tea-”

“Wait!” you stopped him, grabbing his wrist as he turned to leave, “I’m… I’m sorry.”

“You don’t need to be sorry, my darling,” he sat in front of you on the bed, “You just need to get some sleep, okay?”

“But what about-”

“I’ll cover your shift, you don’t need to worry.”

“I-”

“Just rest, for now, love.  Please.”

“Ok,” your words were a whisper, something that Douxie could only just hear.  The next thing though, he didn’t have to strain to hear at all, “Yeah.  I meant what I said earlier, by the way.  You’re so pretty, it isn’t fair.”

He laughed at this, at you, finally seeing some humour in your shenanigans.  He relaxed now knowing that you may actually get some much-needed rest.  He stood, kissing your forehead and tracing the side of your face with a hand, rough from guitar strings and 900 years of sweeping.

“Worry not, love, you’re pretty too.”

“Hey, wait-”

“Don’t ‘hey, wait,’ me.  You are.  Now lie down, I’ll be back in a second.”

A smile crept onto your face as you followed orders.  Your emo wizard man thought you were pretty.  And he cared enough about you to let you sleep during work hours, in his home, no less.  You let yourself relax into the bed, grinning once again.  It smelled like him, like thyme and peppermint, lemongrass and sleep.  It was nice, comforting.  You could only vaguely think of Douxie as your brain finally took a fuckin breather.  It was everything you needed, honestly.

By the time Douxie came back, you were long gone, lost to your dreams and finally asleep.  He sighed a smile that matched yours on his face.  He placed the cup of tea on the bedside table before grabbing a blanket out of his closet and draping it over you.  You looked so peaceful.  Good.  You deserved some peace every now and then.

He took the cup and left you, brushing a strand of hair out of your eyes as he did.  After making his exit, he placed the still-hot tea on the counter, disregarding it for now before returning to the bookshop.

“How are they?”  his familiar asked, tail twisting in concern.

He gave a final fond look at the door before returning to business, “They’re just resting.”  And for once, you were.

[lefaystrent]

Nursing Home au

Patton works at the nursing home as a registered nurse, because the man truly cares for people.

He oversees the activities of the rest of the nursing staff, and he’s always keeping them in high spirits.

There’s a vacancy for a nursing aide. Who could possibly fill that position?

It’s Virgil.

At first, Patton honestly doesn’t think Virgil should have been hired there.

Patton had seen Virgil during the hiring process, and his personality didn’t seem like a … good fit. Too closed-off and kinda gruff, and probably not a good bedside manner, right?

Plus there was that criminal record to consider …

But the nursing home administrator hires him anyway, and Virgil joins the staff.

Patton keeps a close eye on Virgil.

Yes he feels guilty, but even Patton isn’t free from prejudices.

Virgil goes about his work very meticulously.

He arrives five minutes early every day, without fail.

He never complains about the tasks he’s been given, just quietly accepts them in a way that makes Patton and the others wonder what he’s really thinking.

He doesn’t talk casually with the other staff much, giving short answers whenever prompted.

Patton worries about the staff’s morale as a team.

Surprisingly, he starts hearing a lot of praise about Virgil. Not from the other staff members, but from the patients themselves.

One of them, a man named Roman, sounds like he’s complaining about him.

“And then he started criticizing my favorite movies!”

“I’m so sorry sir, I’ll talk to him about that.”

“What are you talking about? Kid had some good points. I like him.”

Patton starts subtly bringing up Virgil in conversations while visiting with the patients. For some, he doesn’t even have to warm up to the subject. They stop him in the hallway.

“Patton hun, you know that new boy with the eye-makeup?”

“Yes ma’am, that would be Virgil.”

“He’s so sweet. He helped me with my phone, it’s one of those smart ones? It wasn’t working right, and he fixed it. He’s a smart boy.”

The biggest sign is when one patient—Logan Crofters, who’s a notorious nitpicker—actually voices his approval of Virgil.

“He’s not an idiot,” is all Logan says on the matter, which coming from him, it’s high praise.

Patton doesn’t really understand yet why the patients have taken such a liking to him, but he endeavors to try harder to see who Virgil really is. Mostly he’s glad that his first impression seems to be wrong.

Virgil, for his part, doesn’t understand why the patients like him either.

He just knows that they do.

One of them goes out of their way to call him over to ask for his opinion on what color scarf to knit for their granddaughter.

Another one makes a point to introduce him to their visiting family.

Lots of them seem to like to talk his ear off in general and give him life advice.

Virgil doesn’t really mind it. He’s not used to people wanting to talk to him so much, and to be honest he could use some of the advice.

And the stories they have to share are kinda wild.

He likes bantering with the one old dude, Roman.

“I’ll have you know I’ve killed many a dragon witch in my day.”

“Was this before or after you went senile?”

“Brat.”

“Old fart.”

And then there’s Logan, the elderly man in a wheelchair. He’s probably the smartest man Virgil has ever talked to.

“You’d be surprised how many people assume I’m stupid.”

“You’re in a wheelchair, not braindead dude.”

“Yes, but I am old and crippled, and many people cannot separate physical inadequacy from mentality.”

“Well most people are idiots.”

Logan shows off his dentures in a rare grin.

After those two, there’s Remus.

Even the other staff members warn Virgil in advance about him.

It takes Virgil a month into working there to realize that he’s Roman’s brother.

It really should have been obvious.

“Virgil, where would you bury a body?”

“Why bury it when you can just burn it? Or feed it to some pigs; they’ll eat anything.”

“… oh, I like you.”

Okay, not so obvious, because Remus is a crazy old coot. But he’s got a lot of ideas and grand stories like Roman, only darker themed.

Virgil is convinced Remus is fucking with him to get a reaction out of him.

“He only says all that to get a rise out of you,” Logan confirms.

Challenge accepted.

Virgil continues being a bomb ass nurse.

He’s always super self conscious around his superior, Patton.

He knows Patton is wary of him and Virgil is terrified of messing up in front of him.

Or messing up in general. Poor babe really is too hard on himself.

Even the patients worry about him from time to time.

“You getting enough sleep at night, son? Ya got bags under your eyes!”

“That’s makeup, sir. You know that’s my makeup.”

“Hahaha, but it was funny, right? But seriously, are you sleeping enough?”

And Virgil can’t count how many times they’ve thrown food at him.

“You’re too skinny. You need to eat more.”

“I already eat a lot. I’ve got a high metabolism.”

“Is that one of those social media sites?”

“Roman, if you don’t stop acting stupid—”

“Kidding! I have an Instagram after all. Which you should totally follow me, by the way.”

It’s like suddenly being adopted and Virgil is now the grandson to many old folk.

He’s not even surprised when someone tries to set him up with one of their grandchildren.

What does surprise him is that it’s Logan.

“You should meet my grandson, Remy. Judging from what I’ve observed of your personality, you two would be compatible.”

“Huh, that’s funny, Roman’s got a grandson named Remy too.”

“Yes, Remy is both our grandson.”

“Wait, what?”

“We used to be married, Roman and I. Didn’t you know he was my ex-husband?”

Somehow Virgil has missed that.

But he is so going to grill them for details, because Roman with Logan?

Roman jumps on board when Virgil brings it up.

“Yes! Remy! You would be perfect for him! I can’t believe I didn’t think of it first!”

Virgil laughs it off because they can’t be serious.

Of course, they’re very serious.

Virgil is doing his rounds when he walks into Roman’s room and a guy not too far off from his own age standing there in a leather jacket and shades.

“Oh, you are cute,” the guy says in a way that lets Virgil know that he’s clearly heard about Virgil before.

Roman is exceedingly proud.

Virgil officially meets Remy, the grandson.

It’s awkward.

By the end of it, Virgil apparently has a date after work that he swears he doesn’t remember agreeing to.

Remy’s waiting for him in the lobby.

“You ready for the night of your life, babe?”

“…”

“Wait, you’re walking the opposite direction. Come back.”

Virgil goes out to eat with Remy.

Remy actually apologizes for his grandfathers.

“They’re cool old gay dudes, but they can be really pushy. They’ve been complaining about me being single for like yeaaars. Um, maybe I like being single?”

“Do you?”

“Okay, a bitch is lonely, but gurl, I can find a man or whoever on my own, amirite?”

“Why’d you agree to this then?”

“’Cause you really are cute and seem cool. Plus can we just talk about your aesthetic for a sec? What products do you use on your hair? The purple dye is perf.”

It’s not really a date.

But Virgil might have made a friend out of it, at least.

Virgil finds himself talking about it the next day with Patton.

It just sort of happens.

“They set me up with their grandson.”

“Oh Remy? You’ve met him?”

“Yeah…”

“Well? How’d it go?”

“Uh … I’m not sure? Like, I’m pretty sure we established it wasn’t really a date. But I think we might …”

“Might what?”

“Be … friends?”

“That’s nice, Virgil,” Patton says in a way that Virgil can tell he means it.

Virgil shrugs. “Yeah, I don’t know what I’m gonna tell his granddads though. Their gonna jump on me as soon as they see me. God old people love to gossip more than teenagers.”

“Just try to let them down easy, okay? They really adore Remy and just want him to be happy.”

It’s the first conversation Virgil has with him that doesn’t make him nervous.

The days go by and Virgil is starting to feel like he’s really settling in.

He still doesn’t understand why the patients like him so much.

Not until Patton finally sheds some insight.

It’s a busy enough day, and then Remus has one of his episodes.

He’s screaming and the other staff members who are more experienced with dealing with him are trying to settle him down.

Virgil hears the commotion from down the hall and comes running into the day room where all the patients gather and visit or watch tv.

“He gets like this sometimes,” Logan tells him. Roman sits silently beside him holding his hand, lips pressed in a thin white line and eyes not looking away from the chaotic scene.

Remus is throwing things at the nurses, yelling something about how the lights are trying to eat him.

“It’s best to stay back, Virgil,” Logan tells him.

Virgil doesn’t listen.

He goes and turns off the lights.

There’s still enough sunlight filtering in through the windows, enough to see. But everyone looks around.

Virgil pushes through the other staff.

He nudges Patton aside who had been attempting to console him.

Patton wants to pull him back. Remus is in a vulnerable state of mind right now and it could be bad for either of them.

But Virgil leans in and starts talking in a low voice to Remus.

And … it’s working.

Remus’s screams taper off.

He doesn’t look any less confused or scared. Just subdued.

“I want to go,” he says, eyes looking through everyone there. “Want to go back to my room now. Want to go back.”

“Okay, we can go, Remus. Let’s go,” Virgil says and guides him out.

It’s a slow process, but they make it to his room, Patton hovering close the entire way.

They give Remus a mild sedative to help him relax.

When Virgil walks out of the room, Roman is standing there.

He doesn’t say anything to Virgil, but he claps a hand on his shoulder.

There’s gratitude glistening in his eyes.

Roman goes into the room.

Virgil leaves for the break room. He’s definitely earned a break.

Plus his hands are kind of shaking, but shhhhh, don’t tell anyone.

After a long time, Patton comes into the room.

He sits at the table with Virgil.

“He’ll be fine,” Patton assures him.

“I didn’t say I was worried for him.”

Patton smiles and shakes his head.

“They all love you, you know?” he surprises Virgil by saying. “The patients. You do a lot of good by them.”

Virgil shrugs. “I don’t see why. I’m just me. Just doing my job. Nothing special.”

“You treat them like people.”

Patton leans closer over the table. Virgil doesn’t look away.

“You listen to them. And you talk to them, like they’re people. And for them, these people who have lost a lot of their independence and are often left forgotten here by even their own families—that’s worth a lot.”

Virgil doesn’t know if he believes all that.

But it’s a nice thought.

[vagrantblvrd]

Thinking about ~casting ideas for an original trilogy Star Wars AU because it’s still hot like the surface of the sun here and my brain is still melting???

I fully support Ryan as Han and Jeremy as Chewbacca is great for the Battle Buddies side of things? (And like adorable bumbling, clueless idiot and his long-suffering sidekick.)

ALSO:

Ryan as Leia and, idk, Gavin as Luke? Jeremy as Han and Matt as Chewie (lol, facial hair joke, lol)

But also, also.

Geoff as Han and Jack as Chewie having to deal with all these asshole kids running amuck and kicking sand in the Empire’s face and so on. (Also, still with Ryan and Gavin as Leia and Luke respectively?

Jeremy as R2-D2. (lol, height jokes, amirite?) and Trevor as C-3PO? (Because, again, height jokes???)

Also, also, also.

Gavin as Leia and Lindsay as Luke and id the rest, but probably Michael as Han and Trevor as Lando with Alfredo as his assistant/aide dude with the headgear? LOBOT, my God how could I forget that name? Also thank you Wookiepedia.)

And, okay, because his little animated >:( gives me such joy from that one AH Animated  random sith Ryan who’s not really super evil? He just digs the ~aesthetic and other things, idk.

[teddystrap]

Drama CD: [SEVENTH HEAVEN] Vol.3 -Itsuki-

[Synopsis] The Seventh Heaven are the 7 Gods of Death who can deliver people into a blissful death by serenading them with their songs. They only appear to those who truly wish to die. Once they have been seen, you have to stay with them in their Hiiragi Mansion until the final moment of death arrives...

*

You wake up in an unfamiliar room, and Itsuki (CV. Takahashi Naozumi) is waiting anxiously by your bedside. To his surprise, you had tried to take your own life by drowning yourself in the creepy river in the woods or whatever, so he brought you here and changed you out of your wet clothes.

As you keep staring at his face, at first he thought you were hungry (#logic), then later he realises... OMG you don't recognise him anymore. He's your long-time childhood friend, whom you just hung out with this morning!! AND! You promised to make his favourite plain omelettes next time!!!! NOOOOOOO~~~

After collecting himself, he apologises for his overreaction and re-introduces himself to you. Apparently you forgot who he was after arriving at Hiiragi Mansion. He also tells you that he is actually a God of Death, who can sing you into the next world.

Morning. He comes to look for you and *escorts* you to the rose garden, explaining to you the flower meanings: red rose = 'I AM DYING TO GET WIT U BAE'. But before he could warn you, you already tried to pick the rose and ofc cut your finger on its thorns. (Wouldn't be an otome story without the heroine injuring herself like a 3-year-old and her guy coming to the rescue, amirite?)

He disinfects and slaps a band-aid on you, and you apologise for being a clumsy idiot and giving him trouble. Then you get this super constipated look on your face,... and turns out you wanted to ask how he became your childhood friend as a God of Death.

Basically: Itsuki was reallllly bored with taking lives and singing death ballads all day erryday, so then Kanade (his boss) told him that there is an ultra-pure soul nearby who will end up taking her own life. He decided to seek out this soul, and he came to meet you when you were still a baby. Not only could you see him, but also you were all like ヽ(*ﾟ∀ﾟ)ﾉｱﾋｬﾋｬ when you saw him.

So then he was all like ｱﾋｬﾋｬﾍ(ﾟ∀ﾟ*)ﾉ too, and he asked Kanade to allow him to live close to you disguised as a human. After doing *many favours* for Kanade (fufufufufu), Kanade finally agreed, and that's how Itsuki became the Boy Next Door whom you grew up with.

But he also made a promise with Kanade, that when you finally choose to come to Hiiragi Mansion, he would do his job and sing you the death lullaby to send you on your way. At first he kept guessing if your time has come when you were feeling down or depressed, but as time passed, he began to want to cheer you up when you cry and not let anything hurt you. He even wished that you would be the happiest person in the world, and that he could appear before you as a normal man.

...You have a dream where Itsuki went to great lengths to win you a rare special teddy bear that you really wanted. He teases you a bit as he gives it to you and reminds you that today is your birthday. Just then you get a msg alert on your phone, and he gets a bit jealous thinking it's from another guy.

As his childhood friend, you have promised to spend this day with him, and he makes you promise to spend your birthday together every year. Then he asks you to be his girlfriend, and pretends to be hurt by your surprised reaction. He confesses that he has strong feelings for you for a long time now, and says he will wait for your answer...

You wake up to the clock chiming and Itsuki telling you 'I'VE BEEN WATCHING U SLEEP' (´◉◞౪◟◉). You tell him that you dreamt about him, and after wrestling with his own sense of embarrassment for a while, he admits that the dream really happened, and asks if you are ready to answer him now. (At the time, you told him that you needed time to think about it.)

He adds that he doesn't want to lose you to other guys, and he doesn't want you to go anywhere - including to the next world. He asks you to dump all your pain on him and tell him that you want to live on.

You nod in reply, which makes him happy, and he reveals his *big plan*: Apparently, the Seventh Heaven have one chance to save a human soul by rejecting their own purpose / authority as Gods of Death while singing their death ballad. He found this out by sneaking into Kanade's room and peeking at confidential documents, and he was planning to do this regardless of your wishes.

You ask what's going to happen to *him* if he does this, and he tells you not to worry about that. (Probably just... become Kanade's sex slave forever XDD.) He says that you will lose your memory and forget about him afterwards anyway, and you make a super #sadpanda face in response. So he quickly comforts you by saying that he won't let that happen, or else he will just re-introduce himself until you remember.

At dusk, you go to the rooftop and see him there. The two of you do some deep breathing exercises that devolved into a tickle fight, which gives you a good chance to fondle his man pecs (*by accident* hehehehe ლ（ ^ิ౪^ิ ლ）). Then he notices that something's on your mind - clearly, it's about Operation Soul Saving.

To put your mind at ease, he tells you again not to worry, and asks you if there's anything you want to do. You want to fondle other parts of him a hug, which he happily gives to you. You also question if he has sent any other woman to the next world with his death ballad, and your jealousy pleases him. He tells you that he was always thinking of YOU when he was doing it (by which I mean *singing*, get your mind out of the gutter ffs) to other women.

The hug made him so...umm... happy, that he wanted to take you right there and then. But ofc you cockblock him, so he excuses himself and goes back to his room to cry and jerk off to porno cool his head.

ONE DAY, he finds you chopping ingredients in the kitchen. Turns out you are making his favourite plain omelettes!! He is overjoyed and devours your dish in 2 seconds. Btw, as a God of Death he has no taste buds, but the omelettes made him *feel* good anyway even though it tasted like nothing lmao.

The truth is, you cooked for him as thanks for his plan to save your soul. You ask if there's anything else he wants, and he hesitates before finally revealing that he wants... more of you. Regular hugs are not enough for him anymore; he wants to hug you with his dick too. As a God of Death, he would make a good partner because he will outlive you for sure and you won't ever have to worry about being widowed. #convincingargumentlol. He asks you to think about it and give him your reply the following night.

The night of the full moon, the clock strikes and you come to see him for your death ballad time / big plan. He grabs you and insists on making you his because he just CAN'T TAKE IT ANYMOAR OMGGG:

Him: I'm going to do it... [Me: ( ´థ౪థ) ] Him: ...kiss you. [Me: (-_-||) ] Him: I'm *really* going to do it... [Me: ( ´థ౪థ) ] Him: ...kiss you. [Me: (-_-*#||||||||||) ]

(Cue slurping kissing sounds X1000)

Finally, he makes you promise to tell him how you feel when you wake up after his death ballad.

...

But ultimately his plan failed, you never woke up again. After frantically shaking you, it hits him that you are a goner. A crow cawing in the background alerts him that it was all Kanade's doing. He cries that Kanade has robbed him of everything and vows revenge, as he realises in horror that the amnesia is setting in and he is starting to forget your name...

[lhs3020b]

Post Mortem

I promised some thoughts on the nightmarish debacle that has happened. Here they are.

TL;DR I am scathing about everything. Everyone who should have helped us, failed.

It's the morning after. They've won. Continuity Remain is dead; there isn't going to be any second referendum and Article 50 won't be revoked. You cannot imagine how I feel right now, typing those words. However, I have never sought to deny reality (however lovely denial might be) and reality is what it is. We've lost a referendum and two general elections; we're finished. There is no come-back from this. The country has made a sick, twisted, greedy, myopic and stupid decision - but that's the decision it's made. I have nothing good to say for what happened, except that it did happen.

Well, let's look at the one tiny silver lining: since the ship has now sailed, I can indulge my deep, seething pool of vitriol for our collection of useless opposition parties. I'd held back previously because I didn't want to add to the circular firing squad. But they've all shot each other now and the corpses have largely stopped twitching. So off we go. (Before we start, I won't be writing about CUK/TiG/Change-UK, because they were just annoying, and I can't be arsed. I think we've all spent enough time on that shower of idiots.)

Here's the core reason for why I'm so angry: all this was completely avoidable. The media will, of course, spin BoJo's victory as a paragonic triumph of political conservatism. Like that infamous Pravda article from the 30s, on the Soviet constitution, they'll fawn over BoJo and declare him a visionary and a victor, a veritable genius of the ages, dripping with lyricism and wit. He isn't. He's an over-promoted buffoon who lucked into the top office due to the self-destruction of his inept predecessor, aided and abetted by a lying and sycophantic media - and, by a collection of opposition parties whose sole interest was in fighting each other.

Here we have the real core problem. The people on our side only switch on for fighting each other. There's little sign that they actually really care about Brexit, or the wider state of the UK. But pursuing partisan vendettas against each other? Wheeeeeeeeeee!

Let's think back to the summer, when BoJo was faced with stalling polls and a hung parliament. He could have been ousted then - but, of course, the Lib Dems were adamant that they couldn't countenance the idea of Mr Corbyn as Prime Minister. They'd had this tendency for a while - it's not new - but it accelerated and was nurtured under Jo Swinson.

When she was elected as leader I was initially a bit sympathetic - it seemed reasonable to give her a chance. Unfortunately, it turned out that she might be the most rightwing leader they've ever had - I actually suspect now that she might be to the right of Clegg. And she went and turbocharged all of their most self-destructive tendencies. I think what she thought she was doing was clawing Tory Remainers off of the Tories. This ran into two problems; 1) there weren't that many Tory Remainers to begin with and b) most of them are more Tory than they are Remain. So they mostly stayed put, and they few who did leave (thank you, to those of you that did) just weren't enough. Meanwhile, the hard-right tilt scared off the Lib Dem's left-leaning supporters.

A while back I predicted they'd lose seats at this election; I'm sad to have been proved right. I am, however, grimly-amused that Swinson herself lost her seat. The other problem with Swinson's rampany anti-Corbynism was that it partially demobilised continuity!Remain. A lot of people sensed that she was more anti-Corbyn than anti-Brexit; that also implied no plausible chance of an anti-Brexit coalition. Hoenstly, given how overt and personal the vitriol between her and Corbyn got, it's hard to see how it could ever have worked. And there's no point voting for something that you know is impossible. I do wonder if maybe this switched some left-leaning people off, or perhaps even sent a few ditherers back to the Tories (under the assumption that any sort of government is better than no government, I suppose).

As for the Lib Dem campaign, it was a mess. At one point their leader went on air to deny killing squirrels (yes, seriously, this actually happened). She got all excited about thermonuclear genocide at one point, because that's not at all weird and creepy, amirite?! Then there was the bizzarity that was "skills wallets" (don't ask - basically, the sort of policy abortion that happens when a collection of wonks are locked in a room with a boxed set of the West Wing and too much cocaine).

[OK, I'll expand this one. Briefly, skills wallets were a weird continuing-adult-education idea, where you'd have a pot of money that you could access at certain ages, apparently to take some kind of training or re-education or something. Why the ages in question, why that amount of money, and why not just make adult-ed free at the point of use, were never really explained. Then there was the can of worms that was additional voluntary contributions - what I took away from this was it was the adult-ed version of pensions auto-enrollment. I spent the last four years fighting a corrupt auto-enrollment fund, so I have strong feelings here!]

As for general themes, really, the LD campaign didn't have one. There was a lot of "Corbyn, THE MONSTER, the monster, Corbyn!". And, kind of oddly, there wasn't actually that much about Brexit. It actually didn't figure very strongly in their campaign. You came away from watching it all with a) a bad taste in your mouth and b) a nagging feeling that these people didn't know what they were doing.

To be fair to them, their vote share did go up, a bit - from 7.4% in 2017 to 11.4% yesterday. Which is, uh, not exactly dizzying. And it seems to have happened in all the wrong places, so they still managed to lose seats overall.

OK, we've gawped at the piss-stained ashes of the old Liberal Party, lying in state where some eggregious family-member has dumped them, on a roadside verge in the middle of nowhere. (Perhaps some enterprising squirrel has buried a nut amongst them.) Let's move onto the other vast, soul-sucking black hole of despair, also know as the Labour and Co-operative Party.

Oh dear god. The Labour Party.

The Labour Party is Britain's perennial second party, and nothing that happened last night challenged its second-place status. Their vote share dropped by 7.8 percentage points on 2017; this is what produced the Tory landslide, essentially. The Tory vote went up a little, by about 1 point, but otherwise stayed largely flat on 2017. This time, though, Labour collapsed. They lost a swathe of seats across the country, including places like Bolsover and Blyth Valley, which were previously rock-solid.

What went wrong? Everything. Basically, the stars aligned against us, in every single way.

First of all, Labour's campaign was dogged by the antisemitism scandal. And you know what? It was bloody well right that it did. The leadership dealt with antisemitism by ... doing nothing. Anyone who tried to raise the issue instead would get "Corbyn outriders" dumping on them on Twitter. Apparently we're suddenly not allowed to be concerned about racism on the Left anymore? Frankly, fuck that.

What they should have done was a quick-and-brutal party purge, perhaps early in 2018, when there was still time. Take some initiative, get control of the narrative again, and get rid of people who are only going to shit all over your campaign. But, uh, no. That didn't happen. I'll note that the Chris Williamson show in particular went on far, far longer than it should have.

Then we come to Brexit itself. Corbyn spent three years equivocating on the issue. OK, I'll allow that in hindsight, perhaps strategic ambiguity made some sense back in 2017 (though note that they still lost that election too). It didn't by 2019. But Corbyn was still trying to stand in the middle of the road as late as the summer - and by doing so inadvertently opened up political space for the (brief) Lib Dem revival, which in turn shunted Labour onto the defensive. And as I believe Paddy Ashdown once said, if you stand in the middle of the road, you get hit by traffic.

Eventually, the Labour leadership reluctantly adopted a second referendum position, but by then the damage was done. Basically, Corbyn had convinced Leavers that he was a Remainer, and Remainers that he was a Leaver. Labour appears to have lost votes about evenly across both Remain/Leave areas(!). In a way, he actually did unite the country - just against him. Ooops.

The rest of Labour's prospectus was a mess this year. Home Office reform was de-emphasized (arbitrary deportation by the Home Office is a huge concern amongst ethnic minorities). Drugs-law reform seems to have fallen off the agenda. There was no obvious theme to the campaign - surprising given that 2017's "For the Many" theme did cut across. Instead the "offer", such as it was, appeared to be a largely-incoherent grab-bag of spending promises, some of them with very large headline numbers. (The £58 billion for the WASPI pensions thing stands out there.) A lot of people simply didn't believe the country could afford it. You don't vote for things that you fear will bankrupt you.

Also, in a way, there's a parallel to the skills wallets thing here. Labour would have been better off, I think, just doing something straightforward like saying, "If elected we'll raise disability, sickness and unemployment benefits by £x per week, and we'll get rid of the ATOS fit-for-work assesments". It would have the advantages of simplicity, clarity and a clear political theme. Instead we got this weird fiscal machine that would produce some of those effects, except via a complicated multi-part kludge (which probably wouldn't even work properly anyway). I don't know how this came about; presumably it was an after-effect of one of the party's unending internal power-struggles.

Corbyn himself is a controversial figure, from his past associations with the IRA (more vague than the press would have you believe, but still a drag on the doorstep) to the perception of socialist extremism. Again, let me note that the "but he's a Communist, because that starts with 'C' too!" stuff is disingenuous, but this perception exists, and the Party have not found any apparent way to challenge it. Honestly? If your candidate is a ship that's holed below the waterline, yes it is horribly-unfair and all the rest of it, but you do need to run someone else. (I see no point softening that punch ; while Corbyn's been leader, the whole UK has voted 4 times, at 2 general elections, 1 referendum and 1 EU Parliament election. Every time, Labour has bombed. It's hard not to see a pattern here.)

Finally, the Labour Party itself has failed to ever re-unite. It's effectively two political parties in one - or possibly three, depending on how you want to look at Momentum. On a fair day with a strong wind, the Parliamentary portion sometimes manages to move just-about-consistently, but nothing else seems to have that behaviour. Honestly I suspect a lot of people's real fear about a Labour government is not that it would be a socialist tyranny, but rather that it would implode within about six months. Labour has lost its way amongst a storm of factional infighting. To be fair to Corbyn, this isn't new. Ed Milliband's desperate tenure was derailed by internal struggles. Even the 1997-2010 period had the ongoing squabbles between Brownites and Blairites (remember them?).

So yeah, Labour's campaign was an absolute shambles this year, and the whole country is suffering now for that.

Lastly, let's have a quick look at the Green Party. Where were they this year? With Extinction Rebellion making headlines, the Amazon burning, Australia on fire and weather records being smashed everywhere - remember that day when we had summer back in February? - it should have been the Greens' year. Environmental concerns are going up in salience - people are starting to get genuinely worried. And, uh, where were they? I can't recall hearing a single peep from the Green Party during the election. Whatever it was they were doing, it seems to have completely failed to capitalise on the moment. Perhaps they should have been a bit more visible.

The only people who come out of this with any credit are the SNP. I haven't heard anything teeth-grinding about them - though, that might just be because I live in southern England.

Oh, and let's take a final kick in the teeth, shall we? If you add up the shares of the votes received by pro-second-referendum parties ... guess what it comes to? Yup: 52%, versus 48% for the pro-Brexit parties. 52/48 - aaaaargh! Yet, the 48% had a narrative that kept their vote all in one place, so they won an absolute majority at Westminster. Ours got scattered to the four winds by several separate inept campaigns and several useless party leaders. Had there been a second referendum, we could have won it. But we never got the chance, because everyone supposedly on our side were completely, perfectly, useless.

Sigh :(

[thequeenofadream]

Dumbfounded (Gwilym Lee x Reader)

Summary: Gwilym seems to like you in his clothes.

Words: 1,447

Notes: it get a lil steamy!! but not as hot as the philippines weather amirite ha ha ha ok bye im sorry also multiple swear words.

A/N: this was supposed to be fluff, uh i guess i really am getting sick huh

~~~~~~~~~

You walking down the bustling street of London, bringing back lunch for the cast and crew of bohemian rhapsody. You were one of the art directors on the team and you had volunteered to get lunch for everyone with Joe, who volunteered to go with you. You loved bringing the 70s and 80s to life; It felt like you were actually there. You also had become such a tight friends with everyone and it was amazing coming to work everyday with people you considered your closest friends.

“Y/N!”

You looked to the left to see a car coming right at you. You ran towards the sidewalk with time to spare before you got your head sliced off. You held your bag of food tight, making sure none of it spilled. You sighed in relief. You were clumsy, you didn’t even understand how you haven’t caused one of the sets to collapse.

“Holy shit, I’m so sorry.” You apologized profusely to Joe who warned you of the oncoming vehicle. He just laughed, shaking his head. “It’s fine, just didn’t want you to get killed before Gwil asked you on a date.” You wanted to punch him, but he did just save your life.

“Laugh it up mozzarella stick.” You rolled your eyes.

You liked Gwilym, not only because of his gorgeous appearance, but he was quite the british gentleman. Not the ones who are racist and sexist back in ye old days, but an actual gentleman.He would help everyone out with different tasks despite being one of the lead actors. He’d occasionally bring donuts for the whole crew. He was the living proof that chivalry was alive. He wasn’t too serious either and truly cared for everyone.

He had even helped you out on multiple occasions; An example was that he saved you from your doom, falling off a ladder. Sure, he caught you in bridal style and you were both blushing like little kids, but that didn’t mean he necessarily like you. He was just very nice, too nice that he said sorry for that situation.

“Okay, but production is nearing its end and we all know he can’t just let go of you.” He said tossing a french fry into his mouth. He had been eating those french fries since you left the store and you wondered if there was any actually left.

“One, we’ll followed each other on every possible social media site on like the third day. Two, have you eaten all the fries?” You pointed at him accusingly.

“I’ve left them a fry or two.” He said smirking. You looked inside the bag to see the exact amount of two fries. “Wow, literally huh? Good thing I bought an extra one while you went to the bathroom.” You said chuckling as Joe frowned, holding his heart dramatically. “I can’t believe you wouldn’t tell me of such a thing.”

You both finally entered set and put all the food down onto the table. You put your hand into the bag to retrieve some soup. It looked heavenly, but any meal would look great after working for 7 hours. You grabbed a spoon before speaking through your walkie-talkie informing everyone that lunch was here.

“Make sure everyone gets some food, I’ll go ahead and tell the rest!” You told Joe before walking to the rami’s trailer where they all usually hung out. He gave a swift nod as he reached for his burger. You carried your soup in hand taking a few spoonfuls. You knocked on the door, informing them of your presence.

“You guys better come out before Joe eats all the fries!” You said looking over at Joe who just rolled his eyes. Before you could look back, the door opened swiftly hitting completely catching you off guard. There was a loud bang as you lost balance. You stumbled back and fell onto the cold hard ground with your soup spilling all over you.

“Oh my god, Y/N I am so sorry.” was all you hear could amongst the everyone piling out to see what had happened to you.

You were just the slightest dazed, but you could stand right back up, so you did. Your shirt was drenched in soup and you didn’t even want to deal with it. You suddenly realized the whole cast was staring at the two of you. Rami, Lucy, Ben, Allen and last but not least Joe. Rami and Lucy looked on in horror while Allen whispered a soft oh no. Gwilym rushed right for you, holding your hand as he continued his thousands of sorry’s. Your face immediately flushed, embarrassingly, because of two major reasons. Those being your distressing state and Gwilym fucking Lee holding your hand.

“It’s okay, it’s okay! I wasn’t looking either, so I’m sorry for causing this whole thing.” You said patting his shoulder. He just continued to look apologetic, never being able to forgive himself.

“I should probably change though so.” You said awkwardly, looking around.

“Oh you could borrow one of my shirts, please. That’s the least I could do.”

“It’s really no problem Gwi-”

“JUST TAKE IT Y/N!” Joe shouted from a distance while Ben was just nodding at Joe. What twats. You sighed as you didn’t think you could really argue at the moment so you just went along.

“Okay, fine.” You followed him to his trailer as he held the door open for you. You stepped in to seeing a vanity table, a dressing room, a lounge area and a mini-fridge. You shut the door behind you as he scrambled to grab some clothes from his wardrobe. You couldn’t believe you were both alone in his trailer right now. You’d gone here multiple times with the rest of cast, but being here along with Gwilym made your heart race faster than actual race cars

“Here ya go, you can change at my dressing room.” He smiled handing you a white button down. “Okay, now are you sure about this?” You said looking up at him, feeling guilty. “Surer that I could ever be.” He winked, sitting at the couch. You giggled before walking up to the dressing room door and stepping inside.

You didn’t bother locking the door behind you, because you knew Gwil would never. You took off your damp shirt, wondering what to do with it. You decided to fold into messy square, you’d be sure to tackle later once you got home. You slipped on the white button down and french tucked it. You looked in the mirror for a moment feeling slightly like Brian May from 1985, you were suddenly given this new found confidence.

You smiled in the mirror before taking your folded shirt outside. The moment you stepped outside was the moment Gwilym’s jaw dropped. Yeah, you always looked hot, but in his clothes, he was dumbfound. You walked up to him and sat down.

“I really appreciate it Gwi.” You said smiling sweetly. He was still breathless by the mere sight of you, before realizing he had to respond.

“Uh Yeah! Yeah! You can keep it. You remind me of Bri from live aid” He stammered. You noticed his sudden nervousness which made you smirk slightly.

You weren’t going to pass up the opportunity to catch him at his weakest.

“Yeah, well maybe next time I could borrow something else.” You suggested seductively, cupping his cheek and patting it a few times before standing up. Gwil’s mind went into panic mode as you started walking over to the the door.

Fuck. He thought. He needed to compose himself right now.

“I mean I could get you another bowl of soup over some dinner maybe? To make up of course.” He asked, standing and walking over to you. “Maybe we could skip that.” You walked over to him, placing your arms on his neck. You tiptoed and whispered into his ear.

“We could get some dessert.”

‘Fuck Fuck Fuck’ was all that went through his mind.

All he wanted to do was kiss you roughly, but you pulled away and pinched his cheek. “I saw a baskin robbins across the street and I absolutely love it there!” You dropped the alluring act alluring act and pat his back. You opened the door and stepped outside, giving a small wave. “See you later, Gwil. Don’t forget to have some lunch.” You said walking away, leavin Gwilym to ponder, leaning against the doorframe. He could barely comprehend what had just happened and where your new found confidence came from. He didn’t think it was possible but he loved you even more now.

Oh my goodness gracious he’s been bamboozled.

~~~~~~~~~

🌼 taglist: @malekdarling @i-padfootblack-things

[jul-bilant]

Prince!Seokmin/DK

oh my god g u ys  ss dhsdfz,hjv

yall have nO IDEA HOW AGGRAVATED I AM LIKE DSJSHCBHJ

i actually finished this already but tumblr kept on crashing like??? 

hhhhhhhhhh-

anywayyyy this was actually a request but when i checked my inbox,, it disappeared ;-;-;-;-;

so yh, sorry it took so long :’VV

warning! a bit of bloodshed, mentions of murder and drugs and a bit of swearing

s o 

prince seokmin amirite ladies

sosososososo adorable and cheerful like

the epitome of happiness

he has a really good singing voice too !!

so the whole kingdom just fawns over him as he sings lol

but he also really cares for his kingdom and the people he loves

so when you hurt the innocent, prepare for prince seokmin to come at u

so you’re just a norm villager 

and it’s quite late at night, but you forgot to run an errand so you’re doing it last minute

bad idea ik but thts how desperate you are jnsdkjfbskjcb--

you were rushing and took a breather when you suddenly heard rustling in the bushes behind you

you turn around, panicking

literally everything in you was telling you to run

run n   o  w

but you couldn’t move

you were paralyzed, too scared to function properly

the rustling stopped but you still couldn’t move, you were still paralyzed in fear 

and that was your downfall

a hand tugged your hands from behind and pulled you towards them, placing a hand on your mouth as well

you tried escaping from the person’s grip, but it was useless, you were too weak

“got you now, you rat.” 

you knew who that voice belonged to, 

but you just couldn’t believe it

before you could even emit another sound, you were knocked out

when you woke up, you scanned your surroundings

you were in a spacious room with golden designs embedded into the beige walls

but what you were most concerned about was that you were bound to a chair by ropes 

you tried to look behind you but there’s no use, your feet were tied to the chair’s legs

suddenly, you heard the door open from behind you

“i’m her to get answers, and you better give them to me.”

????

the hell??????

“listen, i don’t know what’s happening, but whoever it is that you’re trying to catch, it isn’t me.” you told seokmin

“shut up, i remember your face vividly. there’s no way i could forget it.”

he took your chair and spun it around for you to face him

when your eyes met, you gave him the deadliest glare you could possibly muster

he pulled out a pocket knife and held it against your neck harshly

“where did you hide them?” he asked through his gritted teeth 

“hide what?” you wince at the pain

“the drugs you used on the victims!” he pressed on your neck a little harder

you bit your lip in pain as you felt your blood trickle down a bit

“i’m telling you! i’m not the criminal!” you retorted and he scoffed

“liar! i’m not falling for whatever bullshit you’re spewing-” 

“prince seokmin!”

he was cut off by one of his guards calling his attention

“prince seokmin! we found the actual criminal! the girl is innocent!”

seokmin immediately pulled away from you and bit his lip

he growled in frustration and gripped his pocket knife tighter

you gave him a look, your eyebrow raised and you huffed

“told you. now are you going to untie me or wha- hey!” you yelled when he rushed out of the room 

you groaned in frustration and annoyance

and also in pain because your neck was still bleeding

a few minutes later, the door opened

and who walked was none other than prince seokmin

you didn’t look at him. because you knew that once you did, you’d have to restrain the strong urge to rip his face off

you thought he was going to untie you, but nope

well. he did, but before that. he got on one knee and bowed 

“i.. i’m sorry. i just couldn’t risk possibly endangering other people by setting a criminal free..” he said

“perhaps i could make it up to you?” he offered

you scoffed. “by what? paying me? shallow for a prince who almost killed me.” 

he thought for a while while untying you

“maybe you could live here for as long as you want and be treated like royalty? would that satisfy you?” he suggested

you were dumbfounded and speechless for a good minute

“you can’t be serious, what about your parents? won’t they get upset at you?” you asked him

“no, i just have to explain what happened and they’ll be alright with it.” he said

“well..” you thought about it

“what do you say, y/n?” seokmin reached out his hand 

wait he knew your name?

as if he read your mind, he answered,

“don’t ask, i have my ways.”

you shrugged, well he is the prince

“alright then.” you took and shook his hand

he helps you up and doesn’t let go of your hand just yet

“follow me,” he says and leads you to the little clinic they have in the palace

he sits you down on the bed and takes one of the first aid kits

sitting beside you, he opens it 

“again, i’m so sorry...” he says, feeling guilty about harming you

“it’s alright.. i would’ve reacted like you in that kind of situation anyway..” you assured him with a slight smile

he smiled back, feeling better that you forgave him

he lifted your chin with his finger, “stay like that for a while,” 

he starts treating your wound

as he treats you, you wonder off into your own thoughts

‘how do i explain this to mother and father?..’ 

you thought about how worried they might be at the moment

while you were zoning out, seokmin got the perfect idea of teasing you, just to have a little fun 

taking a band aid, he came closer to your neck and placed in on the wound, but instead of pulling away, he

wait for it

he fr  e a k i n 

k i    s   s  e    s    y o   u   r    n  e   c    k

and bOI

were you hella flustered

you immediately pulled away and stared at him 

“w-wha- what the hell was that for?” you almost shouted

he started to laugh quietly, “nothing, just wanted to see how you’d react.”

you were as red as a cherry (bomb) and he found it really cute

*cue his adorbs giggles jfdkjvbssejnckj*

“well, you should really get some rest..” he got up and called a maid

the maid bowed to you, “greetings, miss y/n.”

you were shocked

“oh, hello, you don’t have to bow to me..” you told her

she smiled, “we really don’t mind, miss y/n, and it;s prince seokmin’s order to treat you royally.” 

you look to seokmin who had a slight smirk playing on his lips, “i told you you’d be treated like royalty.” 

the maid led you to your room and gave you a nightgown to change into 

“thank you,” you told her as she bowed and left

quickly changing into the nightgown, you plop down onto the soft bunch of pillows

you covered yourself with the blanket and fell asleep in an instant

the following morning, you woke up to see a note left on top of the bedside table

‘did you sleep well? hopefully, you did. breakfast is ready, meet me after you eat on the 8th floor. -prince seokmin’

you placed the note back on the bedside table and stretched

you see that a casual gown was left for you to change into

you bathed and did your hair, changing into the gown afterwards

you got to the dining room pretty quickly, you had a good sense of direction and could easily navigate through places

you finish eating breakfast and head to the 8th floor as seokmin said 

and as expected, you were greeted by a beaming seokmin

“come here,” he took your hand 

“where are we going exactly?” you asked and he gave a brief reply 

“my favorite place to go to.”

you found yourself in a room filled with various instruments and a stage 

seeing the harp that was displayed, you sat down and admired it

although you didn’t know how to play other instruments, your mother’s favorite instrument was the harp, and so it was yours too

“you know how to play?” seokmin asked you

you nodded and starting strumming the strings, creating beautiful melodies 

seokmin recognized the song and started singing along to it’s lyrics

you would be lying if you said you weren’t mesmerized by his voice

you almost strum the wrong strings, being distracted by his voice

“you play really well!” seokmin complimented you

you thanked him, telling him he had a really gifted voice 

you both spent quite a while just staying in that room, but he had princely duties to do so he took his leave first

you stayed though

you spent a good portion of your day just playing the harp and making more melodies and letting nostalgia engulf you

this went on for weeks and these meet ups gradually get longer and longer

sometimes neither of you notice that it’s already 10 pm or smth lmao

yall r cute jhcflcjhc--

one night, you were awaken by a knock on your door

you slowly get up and open the door to see a butler

“miss y/n.. i apologize for interrupting your sleep, but a woman who claims to be your aunt is downstairs, she says it’s an urgent matter.”

you quickly thank him and quickly rush downstairs to find your aunt crying hysterically

in a frantic state, you rush to her and ask her what was wrong

“y-your parents... y/n i-.. i’m so s-sorry..” she sobbed weakly

“w-why? what happened to them?” you asked, scared of knowing but in dire need to

“t-they.. they were murdered..”

tears brimmed your eyes 

“wha-.. h-how?” 

“someone broke in.. they robbed the house and shot them...” she explained trying to catch her breath

you on the other hand were hysteric

it dawned upon you that you haven’t tried contacting your parents and it’s been weeks since you’ve disappeared

you felt like a good for nothing daughter

you disappear for weeks and live a royal life, leaving your parents behind

you felt awful

the cries you let out eventually were heard by seokmin so he panicked

he went downstairs and saw you and your aunt crying

he got concerned and approached the both of you and asked what happened

since you were too upset to actually form coherent words, your aunt explained everything

seokmin felt bad and enraged that someone would do such a thing 

he told your aunt to spend the night here to ensure her safety and asked a maid to assist her to her room

slowly, he takes your arms from your face

“y/n?..” he engulfs you in a hug and lets you cry out your sadness

“hey..it’ll be alright.. we’ll catch them and give them the punishment they deserve..” he comforted you

“come, you should sleep, you’ll get a headache in the morning if you don’t.” he helped you to your room and tucked you in your bed

he stood up, about to exit your room

but you stopped him from doing so

“don’t leave..” your voice came out rough and weak from sobbing

hearing your plea, he couldn’t say otherwise

“i won’t..” 

he got into the bed with you and took your face in his hands

“don’t worry, okay?.. i’m always here for you..” he told you softly

you nodded 

“i-..” you paused,

“believe you.”

in that moment, seokmin took a risk

something that would change the way you see each other

getting closer (sumi chage--), he closed the gap between the both of you

he kissed you passionately, you could feel his love radiating from the kiss

pulling away, he ran his hand through your hair

“i love you, y/n..”

“i love you, too, seokmin..”

and you both fell asleep, cuddling each other

[mdccanon]

Did you guys just project racism onto gay white Freddie Mercury fans by using the logic that 1) the stage name HE choose for himself is THEIR erasure of his heritage, 2) his nationality isn't as "inspiring" as his ethnicity as if you English-speakers would even know who he was if he wasn't British, and 3) brining up blond Jesus in a conversation about queer punks, rockers, and 60s-70s counter culturista, because we all know how much queer boys from the 70s contributed to the popular culture's view of Jesus.

Not to mention, of course, 4) isolating your resentment of what was originally "bi erasure" TO a problem somehow caused by white people when Freddie Mercury is a worldwide beloved singer, but God FORBID that the hypothetical person you imagine in your head as being problematic be anything other than an insufferable blond twink, amirite, and 5) isolating "bi erasure" as an issue by saying that a bisexual man being an icon to 60s-90s men who had to suffer through the HEIGHT of the AIDS Crisis should also respect him for his MLW relationships because... It's just the fair thing to do, really. Fuck the decades they spent dying off because there was no political will to help them because people just felt that they deserve to die for their sin. Why can't gay men have more respect for men loving women? Jeez. Get over it. We've got PrEP now. Crisis over. Gay men, start acknowledging women more.

You guys are always so jazzed to be angry about something, you don't even know what you are truly trying to be angry about.

People who say bi erasure doesn’t happen need to realize Freddie Mercury is known as the most famous homosexual man when he identified himself as bisexual. If that’s not bi erasure I don’t even know.

[recentanimenews]

To Aru Majutsu no Index III – 22 – Angels And Saints Converge

We check in with pretty much everyone this week, from Stiyl trying to keep Index safe from Laura in England, to Touma and Sasha up in the giant floating fortress called the “Star of Bethlehem,” the narrative darts back and forth between all of the various forces converging both directly and indirectly towards the Star and Fiamma, who is seeking nothing less than to becoming superior to God. The ego of this guy, amirite?

You gotta admit, he’s done a lot of preparation for this; his isn’t some half-baked plot easily ended by one punch from Touma’s right hand. He’s not only controlling Index, giving him powers a Right Hand of God would normally wouldn’t have; while he’s used Sasha (via the control device) to summon the archangel Gabriel to mop up all of the “secondary players.”

As Fiamma consolidates all his power for his final push, there’s one thing for the good guys to celebrate: Thanks to Vasilissa, Takitsubo Rikou is finally healed. Naturally, she agrees with Hamazura that they must then immediately jump back into danger to protect the villagers who saved them from being wiped out by the government.

The last piece Fiamma needs is the parchment in Accelerator’s possession, which he believes can be used to save Last Order. Misaka Worst offers to retrieve the mighty mite, as well as to serve as her weapon. Over in Rome, a bishop intends to use the crisis to ascend to the papacy, but the former Pope has already given up his mantle, preferring to calm the throngs of people outside and lead them into the Vatican…for safety?

Kanzaki Kaori also prefers to offer aid those in need rather take center stage in a battle, leaving Princess Carissa and “Frenchy” to battle Gabriel with their national weapons. When Carissa’s Curtana Second fragment is shattered, she simply summons a half-dozen more, then launches a massive missile strike on the Star diverting the archangel and buying more time for the wounded.

Back up on the Star, Touma is riding a monorail with Sasha when Gabriel appears to stop the missiles. There, the archangel is met by Kazakiri Hyouka in full battle mode. Back on the ground, Misaka is watching the Star through binoculars, and figures since she’s come this far, there’s no way she’s not getting involved.

Misaka also shows her envious Clone the Gekota strap she got on her date with Touma (or as she calls him, “the idiot”). Touma just better hope Misaka doesn’t hear anything about him pawing Sasha (which got him crowbar-ed), or she’ll kill him herself!

By: magicalchurlsukui

[sunshinechii-scenarios]

Semi-Sweet. I

Visit the Semi-Sweet story page for info: Here!

Hello all! This is my first attempt in an actual series! This chapter is rather short to test the waters and see how it would be, I’d really appreciate any feedback! TBH I have a major soft spot for idols that know how to bake or cook ugh spouse material amirite???? Enjoy the first part!

✿ Seventeen’s Mingyu  x Gender Neutral Reader ✿ Fluff  ✿ 1.5k words ✿ Not Requested ✿ Written by Chii ✿

I made the following divider so please don’t take it or use in your own posts, thank you .- Chii

          The sweet scent of vanilla filled the bakery on the corner of Carat Street and SVT Avenue. This is where Kim Mingyu, an inspiring baker, worked in hopes in hopes of making people happy with his desserts. He could fulfill any order someone placed and it never disappointed. The way he made his way around in the kitchen was like magic. No movement was a waste, this added onto one the list of the many reasons why you looked up to as a known baker. On the other hand, as a person, you downright hated him. You didn’t know how someone could be so rude.

          You often came to the bakery while you were in your third year of culinary school to learn the fine art of pastries. Every time you came here you ordered the daily special which was always made by Mingyu himself. His desserts had such a unique taste and look that always had you coming back for more. Time flew and you graduated, got a job at a high-end restaurant and worked as a pastry specialist in the kitchen. Though, just when things were looking up for you, they fired you, not because you were a bad worker but because there was a budget cut by high management and someone had to go. You were their best but also their youngest and they figured you had a better chance of getting another job compared to the older workers. So here you were, in front of the bakery the next morning, eyes all puffy and had plans to order two or three daily specials to mend your sad self together and maybe a cup of strong coffee to re-energize yourself. You sighed at your appearance of messy hair and a lazy outfit in the reflection of the glass. You grasped the handle of the front door. Before entering in a sign was stuck on the glass that read ‘Need new work in the kitchen!’ That’s when you decided to try your luck and asked for a form at the front desk, to your pleasant surprise it was Minkyung. 

“Minkyung! You’re back from vacation,” you said as you hugged her over the counter. 

“Yea I am! Here again?” You leaned on the counter as did she.

“As always.” You two laughed and she started to straighten up some menus that were carelessly thrown around the waiters counter.  

“What else can I get you besides the usual?” she questioned with her back facing you. 

“Make that the usual times three, a cappuccino and a job application.” She turned around quicker than you could imagine, “you’re are serious right?”

“Excuse me?” You didn’t know what she meant, her tone didn’t seem rough but more confused. 

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to sound rude but a lot of the people who asked for a form were people who just wanted to be around Mingyu. ” She looked like she had said this at least 17 times today with the face she made, you felt bad. 

“Trust me, I’m very serious.” You then proceeded to shove some cake into your mouth as she laughed at your actions and nodded her head, she handed you a packet when you sat down in your seat. You were able to enjoy the dessert in bliss and really thanked whichever god gave him the skill to build on to make such amazing things.

“I see you’re enjoying the lemon chiffon cake,” Minkyung said as she walked over to check up you and the order.

“I’m in love, but then again I always am.” You two laughed and she disappeared off to yell some things into the kitchen, you could faintly hear her screaming about Orange extract. Oneーtwo and three slices of cake were gone, you were full and happy. You stayed back a bit to finish the drink to warm yourself up and filled out the form, just some simple stuff and a few required things to bring in the day of the interview. You gave Minkyung the form with all your information and she gave you a day and time for an appointment. 

“I’ll see you then,” she said as you exchanged goodbyes.

          Leading up to the day of the interview, you really began to wonder what his physical appearance was. If it was anything like his cakes, you’d know that you would fall in love on the spot. You never would have thought you would see his face until he greeted himself as the person interviewing you for the job. He was breathtaking, his hair was like the finest dark chocolate that money could afford. His eyes looked the same as if he copied and pasted the colors from his hair. His skin reminded me of the slightly burnt rounds of a vanilla cake. As he sat down, he rolled up his sleeves out of habit. Just from his forearms you saw how they carried heavy cakes and easily hauled ingredients into the kitchen. Dark marks littered his skin, making it obvious that it was from his craftsmanship. He flipped a few pages an cleared his throat to prepare himself to ask you very blunt questions. 

“What are your goals?” 

“To make people happy with my creations.” He looked at you with a raised brow as he scanned your papers.

“And why?”

“I want to show the world my imagination and abilities to create.” He sneered at your very genuine responses and by the end of the interview, you hated his guts and the impression of him you had before was gone.

          You spent that night complaining to your friend, Jeonghan who specialized in the food critic area. He sighed after your long rant about Mingyu and hung up. He quickly sent over a text that he would be over with some take out that he deemed too good to not be a major food chain yet. 

“Just apply to the Italian restaurant in town, they don’t have a big pastry wing but you’ll still learn.” Jeonghan took some food out of its container after speaking.

You sighed, “I wanted to learn from Mingyu but at this point, I think anyone is better than him.”

“He’s cute and he knows how to bake, I know, your ideal type but he’s rude and you deserve to work elsewhere.” You gawked at him, Mingyu was by no means your ideal type but his skill and cakes were.

“What if they can’t teach me what he can?” You bit your lip and tilted your head back, groaning. You didn’t like this position of literal heaven and hell, not heaven or hell.  

“Didn’t you say you wanted to be happy when you grew up?” Jeonghan put his hand over yours, “remember? You didn’t want to be behind a computer all day typing numbers. You wanted to be in a kitchen churning out cakes with a smile.” 

Jeonghan paused before continuing, “this isn’t worth it Y/N.” 

You sigh at Jeonghan, he was never the type to get serious so, when he did you fell into his words. He talked you into applying to another place, aided you in your search for another workplace. You were upset that you knew for sure you weren’t going to get the job. While still stuffing your face with said good take out, your phone rang. You and Jeonghan, who was on your laptop looking at restaurants, froze at the ringing. The number didn’t look familiar but he urged you to take the call. “Hello, Y/N speaking,” you spoke into the phone, pressing it between your cheek and shoulder as you put down the take out container on your coffee table.

“Hi, I was your interviewer and I’m pleased to announce that my members and I want you on our team. Your first shift starts this Friday at 5 AM, do not be late. Have a swell night.” His voice was anything but pleased and sounded like he was forced to say those words, he also spoke quickly and hung up right after not waiting for your response. You couldn’t believe it, you got the job but being around Mingyu made you feel worthless. You dropped the phone and looked at Jeonghan.

“Hey, you just got the job, this means we should open that bottle of Rosé and order some more take out.” You nodded, not really thinking about how Jeonghan was asking where your wine glasses were. You thought to yourself, was it worth learning his tricks? Definitely, they don’t teach you these kinds of things in class and you had to learn them yourself out on the field. You stopped yourself at one glass while Jeonghan had finished the bottle with the rest of the food. Not suitable to walk, he called a taxi home and wished you luck as he got into the car. You went to bed that night excited for Friday to come. 

I think this was pretty okay for a first run! I’ll probably do a small food vocab thing and include them in the story page! I’ll post the next part as soon as I can, until then enjoy! - Chii

Please don’t claim this as your own and please don’t do anything with it without my permission. If you don’t want it happening to you, don’t do it to others.

[m0onbean]

skaterboy!AU yoon sanha

category: flOOOOOF note: dedicated to kaka~( @sanhasmoonbuns ) and completely inspired by this super cute photo so i couldn't resist writing this

at every school there's that "skater" squad that's considered really cool & considered popular

they would skate to school together, skate down the street to the mall, skate in the neighborhood, basically they just SKATE A LOT

and everybody at your school ADORESS THEM

"omg the skaters passed by my house this morning and one of the boys WINKED AT ME AIHFOAFIA"

"wow skaters r so hot"

"have you seen the skaters today ?1!1!! they ditched school omg"

"i'm taking skating lessons now"

but then you're just awkwardly there because you really DON'T care

i mean yeah skateboards are cool but in your opinion the skaters are just edgy teenagers who are rebellious and you don't really find any appeal in that

so one day you have to walk home and you do this thing where you always go another direction from the skaters so you can avoid them

but it's not like it's bc you hate them or anything

you just don't wanna be in the way when they SKRT SKRRTTTTT past you

so there you are walking home with your earplugs in when suddenly you hear that SKRT SKRTTTT

AND YOU'RE SHOOK BECAUSE NOW WAIT A MINUTE A SKATEBOARD'S GONNA RUN OVER ME GOSHDARNIT

and before you can move out of the way bOOM a person crashes into you from behind

and you stumble forward and scrape your knee and it's stinging really badly too

and then you hear a squeaky voice that sounds really worried and he's saying "ARE YOU OKAY" while rushing forward to examine your leg

and at first you're like "yeah i'm good" but then suddenly you get anGRY AND YOU'RE LIKE:

"WHY TF DID YOU RUN OVER ME COULDN'T YOU HAVE LIKE WARNED ME AT LEAST OR TRIED TO GET OUT OF MY WAY THIS SIDEWALK ISNT THAT NARROW"

and the boy which you now take time to look at eyes just widen a little

his hair is brunette and he has messy bangs that fall a little bit over his eyes

he's wearing this red snapback, earbuds are dangling from his pockets, and he's wearing a lot of wristbands

and then you realize huh this boy is actually really cutee!! wait no hes not lol-what am i saying

and he's lowkey scared but then he turns anGRY too and he's like

"WELL MAYBE YOU SHOULDN'T BE WALKING SMACK IN THE MIDDLE SO I WOULDNT HAVE CRASHED INTO YOU"

"SO THIS IS MY FAULT?"

"I MEAN, YEAH"

"WHAT, HOW IS IT-"

then you two start bickering over whose fault it was for a solid two minutes before you look down at your phone and realize that you should've been home by now

so you're like oH SHIT we'll continue this argument another day then you usain bolt down the road

the next day, you're at lunch with your friends and you're eating your lunch and socializing

when suddenly a band-aid falls in front of you and when you look up it's tHE SAME BOY FRMO YESTERDAY

and YOUR FRIENDS JUST KINDA LOOK AT HIM THEN LOOK AT YOU THEN LOOK AT HIM 

AND THEYRE IN SHOCK BC WHATS A SKATER BOI DOING HERE

you notice that he's wearing a different outfit this time: backwards snapback and a green hoodie (still with those tangled earbuds though)

and his skateboard is still hanging loosely in his arms

so you give him the stinkeye and you're like "why are you here"

and i guess he wasn't expecting that response because he chokes on his words before coming up with "i got you a band-aid since you scraped your knee"

and you just scoff at him and show him your already bandaged knee

and he's like :O and he reaches his hand to take it back but you're like "no it's okay i'll just save it for the next time you crash into me"

the boy is obviously shocked but then he just laughs and says, "can't wait"

then he leaves not before winking at you and then you turn back to your table and your friends are ლ(ಠ益ಠლ) why didn't you tell us about this

so school ends and you're walking home alone AGAIN unfortunately

but this time sanha is lingering at the school gates while tossing his skateboard in his hand from boredom

then he looks up and sees you and he's like "oh (Y/N) wait up!" and he runs over to you

and you're just like ??¿?¿¿ how do you know my name

regardless, you allow him to walk with you anyways because it's lonely walking alone

and that's how you learn his name which is sanha

you and sanha chat about random shenanigans and argue over small things

"it's better hearing the bad news before the good news because when you hear the good news it'll lift your spirits and make you forget about the bad news and compensate for it"

"but that's false hope and expectation. it's better to hear the good news and THEN hear the bad news so you don't delude yourself into happiness"

and so this becomes a habit now; he would wait for you at the school gates and you two would walk together to your house. he'd watch you go in and skate away.

it becomes such a casual routine now and you actually quite enjoy it

one day you ask sanha why he doesn't hangout with his skater friends after school anymore 

and he just casually says "eh they're no fun compared to you."

and your heart flutters a little bit at his words even though he probably didn't really mean it romantically

as time progresses you find your heartbeat accelerating each time you see him and you would become unusually shy around him

but you being a stubborn cookie, you would never admit to having a crush on sanha although all of your friends know it too well

all of your friends think you guys are dating because you're always seen wearing his snapbacks and hoodies and sharing earbuds in the hallways

plus you two would often hangout during lunch together and sneak off into the back of the school and just listen to music together

and all these little actions he does such as pushing a strand of hair behind your ear or teaching you how to ride a skateboard makes your heart go sssKKKKRRRAAAA 

then on one fateful day as you two are sitting together during lunch sanha suddenly offers to visit the skate park together

and you're like sure! and then he says "ok let's go now" and you're like ب_ب wdym

"let's go to the skate park right now!" he says really cheerfully which is different from his usual chill and calm mood

but YOU'RE LIKE AIWHOADIFH DITCHING SCHOOL ?????

and at first you hit him playfully and scold him for even thinking about skipping school especially since his grades have been doing so well lately

and sanha feels down that you rejected him but then you look at his sad state and you're finally like OK WHATEVER LETS GO YOU LITTLE BRAT

and immediately sanha is (｡◕‿‿◕｡) again

using his past rebellious experinces, sanha is able to get past the locked school gates with you and your adrenaline is ruuuuuushhing because oh god what if we get caught!!!1!!

but when sanha holds your hand you calm down and you know that he'll protect you <3

once you two make it outside the gates, you both run away as fast as you can before somebody sees and by the time you reach the skate park you're both out of breath bc wow exercise amirite?

and at the skate park you two have lots of fun together (^̮^)

he holds your hands as you try to balance on the skateboard and even tho you're wobbling sanha laughs and encourages you to keep on trying

and once you can finally "ride" the skateboard he's never been so hYPED BEFORE

"yay now we can ride together!!11!!1!"

"sanha i dont have a skateboard lol"

"oh"

so when christmas comes up and sanha is waiting at the school gates you notice a pretty big present box in his hands

and you're like oh?? what's that

and guess what? it's a skateboard he bought for you and it's in a custom design of this really cool black and white sketch

and you're like in LOVE with it because it's so new and nice and pretty and you can't help yourself from hugging sanha really tightly bc wow thanks i love it omg

and you two finally skateboard together (although you occasionally trip and fall down but its ok bc sanha is always somehow there to catch you)

but you didn't forget about sanha's christmas gift!!!

you TOO got sanha a BRAND NEW SKATEBOARD since you notice that the one he uses is rlly old and is about to snap in half

but you put more thought into it by customizing his initials in it and choosing a plain design since sanha isn't into overly decorated things

and when you reveal it to sanha he almost cries because he spent all his money on your gift so he couldn't get a new skateboard but you got it instead for him

and then the next day he shows you that he carved your name onto the skateboard and you blush so hard and at this point your heart is soARRRING FLYINGGG

so in return you put the band-aid he gave you at lunch a long time ago onto the skateboard and he’s like bursting into laughter at the memory and he’s like obsessed with it

and obviously you can't hold your feelings in because you truly love sanha as a friend and as a partner

so one night at the skate park it's completely vacant and the sun is setting with pink clouds looming in the air

and you and sanha are laying down besides eachother in those big bowls used to do cool skateboard tricks while staring at the sky

and like always, you two are sharing earbuds and are listening to chill lofi hiphop music

until suddenly you turn around to face his face as he gets lost in the view above you guys

and you can see his eyes glowing like he's in a dream and you realize the beauty of love and how beautiful sanha is 

and then he looks at you and just smirks "what are you staring at?

"you." you bluntly reply

sanha just chuckles and stares back at you, forgetting about the sky

"are you just now realizing how sexy i am?" sanha teases playfully

you scoff but can't help to smile yourself

then out of the blue you lean forward and peck him on his cheek quickly

aND SANHA fREEZES because WHAT JUST HAPPENED!?!1??

then you confess "i love you" before you can regret it

so he wraps his arms around you and pulls you tighter to him until your face is nuzzled in his hoodie

"i love you too."

“my knee still hurts tho i wont forgive you for that”

“you really know how to ruin the mood”

[dailybestiary]

Naiad

Having checked off the nymph, dryad, oread (well, sort of; don’t get me started), nereid, oceanid, and even the cave-dwelling lampad (talk about a deep cut, amirite?), the Bestiaries were way overdue to serve up Greek mythology’s naiad.  But with nixies, nereids, and rusalkas all operating in a similar design space/ecological niche, there just hasn’t been the urgency…until now.

The good news is, it was worth the wait.  Not only do we get a decent low-CR fey creature—I like the inspiration tokens that recall Pathfinder’s Fey Revisited book, and the water bond is true to mythology while being more flexible than the dryad’s tree bond—but we also get naiads as a player character race as well!  That’s right, you can now play a full-on fey straight from your favorite myth.  (And we’re not talking just Greek myths—you find near-human river spirits in folktales across the world.)  If you want a wise, sorcerous master of water, play an undine, but if you want to play a mysterious, charming fey with a mystic connection to the rivers and streams around her, the naiad is ya girl.

The naiad also lets us do something we haven't been able to do as much on this blog lately: talk about the thematic potential of a monster.  (That's a problem once you get to the higher-number Bestiaries—you get more original monsters, which is great, but they lack the years of shared folklore and fictional heft that more established creatures have accreted.)  And naiads suggest at least two themes worth very worth exploring:

The first is transformation and journeys.  In myth, naiads are constantly getting transformed into other things: rivers, plants, animals, and so forth.  Now that’s not something you have to literally have happen in your adventures (aside from the odd baleful polymorph).  But I think on a metaphorical level it ties nicely to the naiad’s ability to shift her water bond.  You can easily imagine a naiad PC shifting her bond as she adventures…from the local creek to a nearby stream to the wide river…and then to waters she has only dreamed of…fast rapids, raging waterfalls, even great inland seas. At the same time, she’s also changing as a character, growing in terms of power and responsibility.  Your naiad PC probably won’t be turned into a laurel tree like Daphne, but she may be unrecognizable by the time she completes her final quest.  Water is always flowing, always moving, traveling across the world, taking new shapes and touching new shores as it goes along…why not your naiad PC, too?

The second theme is why so many of those mythical naiads wind up getting transformed into something else: assault/rape, lack of consent, and the aftermath thereof.  In these tales, naiads are always being chased by Zeus/Apollo/Pan or any number of minor gods or satyrs…and when they quite sensibly run and call for help, they tend to wind up transformed into something else.  Which is, when you think about it, a pretty goddamn high cost for not giving in to assault.  Take Daphne: She asked her father to save her from Apollo, and his best answer was to turn her into a laurel tree for the rest of eternity.  Gosh, thanks Dad! Syrinx, fleeing from Pan, got it even worse: Her sisters turned her into a reed…and Pan, not sure which reed was her, cut them all down and then made the first panpipes so he could still hear her mournful voice every time he blew on them.  And most books still tell this story like Pan is a rascal who just went too far this one time. Is that isn't male supremacy BS, I don't know what is.

But at your gaming table…in your myths…maybe the story doesn't have to end that way.  Maybe the PCs can step in and stop the assault.  Or maybe they can get justice for the transformed naiad.  Or, if you’re playing a naiad PC, maybe an assault is what launched her adventuring career...because she’s determined such an act won't be the end of her story, but rather its beginning.  No one can cut her down if she’s the one wielding the blade.

This is tough material to tackle sensitively, and not appropriate for every gaming table.  But if your group is a group that can handle hard questions and big themes, naiads offer a window into stories that don’t usually get told in an ordinary dungeon crawl.

Adventurers are warned that a certain fey lord is bound to betray them.  They will be put to sleep for 100 years, pixy-led into another realm, offered fruit that will trap them in Faerie, given seven-league boots that will rip them in half the first time they're used—any number of these awful fates and more. Prepared for this, the adventurers are stunned to find the lord to be an amiable host, who immediately and publicly names them his guests, offers them safe passage, and aids them in their quest. It is only on their return to his lodge that his trap is sprung.  The fey lord’s daughter is a naiad whom the demon-possessed satyr Blackhoof has named as his betrothed—whether she consents or not.  Blackhoof is coming to take his intended away with him this very night…and the adventurers, having partaken in the oaths of hospitality, are honor-bound to defend her with their lives while the fey lord watches.

A naiad gives a ranger her token, fortifying his will and steadying his hand so that every arrow he fletches flies a little straighter. Unfortunately, at the next river he comes to he is immediately set upon by boggards.  The boggards are the thralls of the naiad’s jealous sister, who recognizes her sibling’s token and is determined to slay anyone who bears it out of spite.

The new dam at Carter Bridge is weeks behind schedule.  The delay is the fault of a naiad who has been working to charm, distract, and if necessary harm the workers there, fearing what the dam will do to her beloved stream.  But the snows were heavy this year, and if the dam is not built, the snowmelt may destroy whole villages during the spring floods.  Adventurers may use force or diplomacy to bring the naiad to their side.  If the dam is built, though, the change from wild stream to man-made lake causes the naiad to morph from female to male.  How the naiad reacts to this gender transformation could be the germ of many adventures to come…

—Pathfinder Bestiary 6 200

Do you find a race of comely, all-female nymphs to be a somewhat sexist notion?  Guyads are a thing in Pathfinder, so I’m sure gaiads are too.

If you’re looking for more Pathfinder monster content, the new blog monstersdownthepath has a similar passion for our favorite beasts.  Dive in and see some fresh takes on your favorite beasts!

Looking for the myrmidon?  Look way back here.