#I feel like they would all be insufferable

[lumiambrose]

୨♡୧ Don't lie to me

Sae Itoshi x reader, fluff

Romance trope mini series - Rivals to lovers

Sae doesn't seem to appreciate your uptight attitude and habit of avoiding him during BM and Re Al's friendly match. So, of course, he takes matters into his own hands... 0.9k wc

C.ai bot by LinhDao

Being Bastard München’s PR manager isn’t an easy job: the hot-headed football players, the fangirls—it’s all chaos. Of course, the boys do their best to make work easy for you, but even they have their limits. Especially today.

The meeting hall buzzes with restless energy, the crowd of fans and journalists packed too tightly into the space. Your job as Bastard München’s PR manager is to keep this chaotic event organised, but with Re Al Madrid’s under-20s in attendance, it feels more like refereeing a rivalry than hosting a professional PR event.

Your gaze flits across the room, settling on Sae Itoshi, Re Al Madrid’s superstar midfielder. He stands slightly apart from his team, arms crossed and expression as unreadable as ever. Sae doesn’t waste time with the crowd or the media. No forced smiles, no effort to charm anyone. Just a detached, almost clinical focus, as though the event is beneath him.

You can’t stand him. Frankly, you’d call him bratty and ignorant if you could. He has a type of arrogance that feels dismissive of everyone around him. And being a member of the New Gen XI only makes it worse. It’s as though he’s been put on a pedestal, and he seems content right where he is, looking down on the rest of the football world.

“Need a second to calm down?” Ness’s soft voice interrupts your train of thought. He’s at your side, his usual amused smile tainted with a bit of worry as he follows your gaze to Sae.

“Ahh, Ness.” Your consciousness quickly jolting back to the meeting room, your gaze softening ever so slightly. “I’m calm,” you reply sharply, adjusting your outfit, making sure you’re the epitome of professionalism once the event starts. “I just hate how full of himself he is.”

Ness shrugs. “He’s good enough to back it up.”

You swallow back the retort in your throat as the event finally kicks off. The Q&A session goes smoothly enough—until Sae speaks, of course.

When the mic is handed to him, he doesn’t play to the crowd, nor does he deflect any uncomfortable questions. His responses are blunt and to the point, what you would expect from him. So when a fan asks about his feelings toward Bastard München, his response is as cutting as it is dispassionate: “They’re fine. Good players. Not the best.”

You glare at him from the front row, your professionalism threatening to crack next to your manager's. He meets your gaze, his teal eyes sharp and unwavering, but his expression gives nothing away. He doesn’t care what you think, nor does he need to.

As the Q&A wraps up and the players prepare for the friendly match, you focus on keeping everything running smoothly. Taking multiple photos and videos here and there for social media.

On the field, Sae is everything you would expect from a New Gen XI member. He doesn’t waste movements, doesn’t bother with flashy plays—everything he does serves a purpose.

It’s not until after the match that you have the chance to reunite with your players. “Not bad, huh?” Ness says, sidling up to you again as he finishes his water bottle, clearly exhausted from what was supposed to be a “friendly” match.

You cross your arms. “He’s good. Doesn’t mean he’s not insufferable.”

Ness chuckles. “I think that’s just him being honest.”

You don’t have a response for that. Sae’s honesty isn’t what irks you; it’s the lack of warmth behind it. He’s not arrogant in the traditional sense; he’s simply detached, too detached. As though none of this—including you—really matters.

When the day finally comes to an end, you’re gathering your things when Sae approaches. You fail to notice him until he’s standing directly in front of you, inches apart. His imposing presence catching you off guard.

“You don’t like me.” It’s not a question; it’s a statement, delivered in his usual blunt tone.

You blink, startled. The audacity of this man. “Excuse me?”

“You’ve been glaring at me all day,” he continues, his teal eyes boring into yours. “If you have something to say, say it.”

He raises an eyebrow, cutting off your denial. “Don’t lie. It’s a waste of time.”

You’re too stunned to respond. What the fuck? Your carefully constructed professionalism crumbling under the weight of his unflinching gaze and a couple of words. Sae doesn’t wait for you to recover.

“I don’t care if you like me,” he says, his voice holding zero emotion to it. “But if you want to keep up, you’ll need to be honest with yourself.”

And just like that, he turns and walks away, leaving you standing there, mouth agape and clearly at a loss for words. You’re not sure what just happened, but one thing is clear: Sae Itoshi isn’t someone you can ignore, no matter how much you want to.

And he doesn’t plan on letting you either. It’s only once you’ve made it back to the safety of your apartment that you open your bag to find a neatly folded piece of paper.

You’re too easy to read. If you have something to say, don’t hold back.

Taglist: @sky-casino, @bbladie (join my taglist here)

©lumiambrose ─ do not translate, repost, copy any of my works

[swiftiethatlovesf1]

What is this feeling? p.3

Heyy guys, here's part 3, if you've missed part 2 here it is.

I'm sorry for not posting yesterday, but this month I'll be pretty inactive since I have to study for my exams :(

If you want to read more stories of mine here's my masterlist.

"YN, you're good, but good isn’t enough."

Max’s words echoed in your ears as you sat across from him in the Red Bull hospitality suite. His sharp blue eyes studied you, a mix of determination and mischief glinting behind them.

"Okay, ouch," you muttered, crossing your arms defensively. "I’m working on it."

"You don’t just ‘work’ on being a winner," he said, leaning forward. "You have to become one. And lucky for you, I’ve decided to make you my new project."

"Your project?" you repeated, raising an eyebrow.

"Yes," he said, a grin tugging at the corners of his lips. "I’m going to teach you everything I know. Strategy, focus, confidence—everything that makes a champion. By the time I’m done with you, you won’t just be good. You’ll be great."

You hesitated, unsure whether to feel flattered or insulted. "And what if I don’t want to be your ‘project’?"

"You don’t really have a choice," Max replied, leaning back and crossing his arms with a cocky smirk. "Besides, I’m very nice for doing this. You should thank me."

"Wow," you said, rolling your eyes but unable to suppress a small laugh. "How generous of you."

"Exactly," he said, his smirk widening.

Over the following weeks, Max threw himself into his self-appointed role as your mentor. It started with small things: tips on cornering, feedback on your race starts, pointers about tire management. He’d pull up telemetry data, going over it in detail, explaining every nuance of what made him fast.

"You’re not braking late enough into Turn 1," he’d say, tracing a section of data with his finger. "And your exit speed here? Too slow. You’re leaving time on the table."

"You’re insufferable, you know that?" you shot back one day, though secretly you appreciated how much he cared.

"I’m efficient," he corrected with a smug grin.

But it wasn’t all technical. Max started nudging you out of your comfort zone in other ways, too.

"You need to stop eating lunch alone," he told you one afternoon, stealing a fry from your plate.

"I like eating alone," you argued, snatching the fry back.

"No, you think you do," he said. "But winners know how to command a room. You should join us. Be part of the team."

Reluctantly, you let him drag you into more social settings, and while you’d never admit it to him, you began to enjoy it.

Somewhere along the way, things shifted.

It wasn’t just the racing tips or the forced social interactions. It was the way Max would wait for you after sessions, leaning against the wall with an easy smile. It was the way he’d cheer you up after a bad qualifying run, cracking jokes until you couldn’t help but laugh. It was the way his confidence in you began to chip away at your own doubts.

"You’re getting better," he said one evening after a long day of practice. "I can see it."

"Thanks to you, I guess," you teased, nudging him lightly.

"Of course, thanks to me," he said, but there was a softness in his voice that hadn’t been there before.

By the time race day rolled around, you felt different. Lighter, more confident. Max’s faith in you had become your own, and as you lined up on the grid, you could see him watching you from the pit wall, arms crossed, a small smile playing on his lips.

The race was intense. Lap after lap, you pushed yourself harder than ever, channeling everything Max had taught you. The car felt like an extension of yourself, and when you crossed the finish line, the world seemed to erupt around you.

You’d done it. You’d won.

Climbing out of the car, you barely had time to process the cheers before someone was rushing toward you.

Max.

He reached you in seconds, pulling you into a tight hug. His arms wrapped around you, and for a moment, the rest of the world fell away.

"I knew you could do it," he said, his voice low and filled with pride.

"Thanks to you," you whispered, smiling against his shoulder.

He pulled back slightly, just enough to look at you. His eyes were softer than you’d ever seen them, his usual cockiness replaced by something warmer, more genuine.

"You were incredible," he said.

"So, does this mean I’m officially not your project anymore?" you teased, though your voice wavered slightly, the moment feeling too big for jokes.

Max chuckled, shaking his head. "You were never a project to me," he said. "Not really."

Before you could respond, the crowd surged around you—drivers, engineers, reporters. Max stepped back, giving you space, but his eyes never left yours.

Later, as the celebrations wound down and the paddock quieted, you found him leaning against the Red Bull motorhome, sipping a bottle of water.

"Hey," you said, approaching him.

"Hey," he replied, a small smile tugging at his lips.

For a moment, neither of you said anything. Then, almost shyly, you added, "You know, I couldn’t have done this without you."

Max shook his head. "You could have. I just helped you realize it."

You stepped closer, your heart racing. "Still, thank you."

He met your gaze, and for the first time, you saw vulnerability in his eyes. "Anytime," he said softly.

The distance between you felt impossibly small, and as the night stretched on, you realized something had changed—something that couldn’t be undone.

Max hadn’t just made you a winner. He’d made you believe in yourself. And in the process, you’d found something neither of you had been looking for but couldn’t ignore any longer.

@justaf1girl, @anamiad00msday

[solardriftx]

P:EG SPOILERS UNDER CUT‼️‼️‼️

just finished ch1 and I WAS ABSOLUTELY BLOWN AWAY. i have to yap abt my initial thoughts😭

….

….

- my crack theories were wrong but yk what im SO GLAD this is better than i could ever imagine

- DAMON AND DIANA YOU ARE SO REAL TO ME. she stood up for him when nobody else would. he stood up for her when nobody else would. damon, someone so stoic and logical, was moved to question such a seemingly open and shut case at the sound of her tears, at the impact of her kindness (in the pathos route ) AH😭😭

- the difference between eva and damon…is that deep down damon slowly started to accept others kindness…while eva chose to deny it no matter how obvious it was that some people truly did care.

- i am a SUCKERRR for characters like diana so highly driven by empathy that it is simultaneously their greatest strength but also their weakness. she feels so deeply for *everyone* and it’s what causes her to keep her chin held high even after everything, but the sheer savior complex that’s starting to develop makes me worry for her

- DAMON DAMON oh my god the first time he let his guard down and trusted someone even after scolding everyone else for doing so it blew up in his face. seeing him with tears streaming down his face at the sight of eva’s death (looking almost unaware of the fact he is crying), just to revert to blank shock afterwards, and finally harden into frustration and distrust—oh my god. like i really have to applaud how accurately they captured the behavioral nuances of being emotionally stunted

- the daily life segment was so charmingly written, highly elevated my opinions on characters i previously felt neutral about—namely kai and desmond. they are both very dear to me now. also as much as i somewhat dislike using the term “tsundere” to describe emotionally complex characters…tsundere damon was so real this chapter, very funny to watch

- on this same note damon allowing toshiko’s nickname for him while shooting down the others…they are the siblings ever

- i just really like how these characters try their best to intelligently approach the killing game the way actual people would. when tragedy strikes, it’s all the more chilling knowing you would’ve tried problem solving the same way

okay thats all for now. expect me to be insufferable for the weeks to come💜

[bonebabbles]

Star Thoughts

I'm going to gather up all of my thoughts on the Arc as a whole in another post, but for now, I'll just drabble about my thoughts on the ending

I did not like it

I saw a lot of potential in this arc, and I was really optimistic to begin with. ASC actually got me back into WC after a long time away from it, and it was the impetus for me to really jump into the fandom.

But the ending really bites. It was going off the rails for a while, but Star in particular gave me a terribly empty feeling.

It wasn't entirely bad. There was some good in it. But not enough.

First of all, Berryheart.

I hate where they went with her. Sincerely, what the fuck.

We closed off the last book with Sunbeam feeling dread at seeing her xenophobic, radicalized mother taking deputyship in another Clan, thinking about how she will be absolutely ruthless towards foreign people she sees only as pawns

...and then that just gets dropped.

Berryheart reveals to ShadowClan cats that she's actually just teaming up with Splashstar to get rid of Tigerheartstar, but she talks too loud and her stupid ass plan gets reveled

And Splashstar is like "oooo i never trusted you anyway!"

Which gets Owlnose angry at her because "Harelight died because of you" BUT. WHY??

WHY DID THAT EVEN "NEED" TO HAPPEN. SPLASHSTAR JUST DID THAT

Why even take Berryheart in as a deputy?? Why was any of this necessary? How did any of this happen and what did Splashstar gain???

This whole thing feels like an idiot plot. Or, worse, a plot the writer doesn't have to justify because "Splashstar Craaaazy"

But anyway, a fight happens because Splashstar tells her to kill her sister Yarrowleaf and Berryheart says no

Sunbeam comes to help, Berryheart pushes her out of the way, gets a dumbass redemption death saving her daughter.

We already HAD one of these, it was Curlfeather at the beginning of the whole arc. I massively resent that Berryheart did a Dollar Store Curlfeather-- it cheapens what Curl did.

Even the way that Spireclaw rolls up to tell Sunbeam "yeah she was mean but she died saving u" just. Ooooooughhh.

SHE TRIED. TO KILL. YOUR WIFE.

BERRYHEART TRIED TO KILL YOUR WIFE WITH AN ADDER, BRO.

We SAW IT. On the SCREEN. She (Berryheart) (your mom) sent YOUR WIFE (Fringewhisker) (wife) through a PART OF THE GORGE (log bridge) (snake inside) (deadly) YOU KNEW WAS UNSAFE

The way the narrative is desperate to be sympathetic towards violent xenophobes through this whole book absolutely infuriates me, but Berryheart in particular is insufferable

We didn't need "mom heroically dies to save daughter" twice, and we definitely did not need Berryheart to be the one between the two characters to get showered in emotional flashbacks.

Frostpaw had 6 entire books to explore the complicated feelings she has for her mother, and slowly come to unpack them in a nuanced and satisfactory way

So Berryheart's felt tawdry and tacked on, to me.

And poor Fringewhisker, a victim of bigoted harassment for several books, barely gets any say about this. Her tormenter is gone, her mate is eager to forget the bullying, and Star doesn't give a hoot about how she feels on that.

That said...

It's not the idea of Sunbeam having complicated feelings about her mother's death that bother me. Most of those scenes are enjoyable.

I even like the way that Sparrowtail tells Tigerheartstar that Berryheart was the only cat he would ever betray ShadowClan for, and now that she is dead, it is the only thing he's loyal to.

It's that Berryheart had to die by saving her daughter, this "entitles" her to a protracted mourning session with her sacrifice at the forefront, while the narrative's sympathy for Curlfeather runs totally dry.

Just totally jacked Curlfeather's thing; that her ambition ends where her family begins. Man.

And Owlnose. Guy who killed her.

Owlnose what did they DO to you

I stopped liking him the minute he said that RiverClan was just following Splashstar's orders.

And the way he started lamenting how he wished he'd taken responsibility and become RiverClan's leader-- that was the moment i gave up on him.

This is not my beautiful wife.

It would have been one thing if he was constantly framed as pathetic and weak-willed, someone who stays away from power because he hates being stressed out and knows it...

But he becomes deputy at the end of the book, so, no. Everything he did was intended to be legitimately insightful.

I dislike him now.

Then again, I dislike most of RiverClan now.

Star's ultimate statement about the fact the whole Clan fell in line behind Splashstar is that "They Were Just Following Orders."

For those unaware, this is an infamously bad argument called The Nuremberg Defense. It is called that because it was very popular during the trials of Nazi officials who had taken part in the Holocaust.

The Nuremberg Defense, at best, can reduce the severity of your punishment. Pleading this still results in you being held accountable for your crimes.

Unfortunately this is not even the first time WC has posited the Nuremberg Defense unironically... but honestly it shouldn't have even happened once if they're going to botch it this badly!!

Throughout this book and the previous one, RiverClan was growing increasingly xenophobic. They beat the shit out of Wasp, steal kittens to hold as hostages from SkyClan and ShadowClan, try to drown Whorlpelt, and eventually attempt to publicly execute Nightheart.

This is all completely and utterly handwaved away with the death of Splashstar.

Xenophobia and radicalization are not properly addressed at all by Star. In fact, it misses the point so entirely that I have to believe it's on purpose.

He Made Them Bad :(

They all say sorry to the cats they did hate crimes to and it's ok :)

They were just following orders because Splashstar was threatening to kill babies. They Had No Choice.

I swear to god I really try not to throw around the term "idiot plot" lightly, but ALL of ASC from like Book 4 onwards has been Idiot Plot after Idiot Plot. I don't have any other words to describe this!! These characters don't THINK. Most of them seem to only have beliefs at all when the plot needs them to.

And like, circling back around to Splashstar, I honestly think calling all of this an idiot plot is being charitable, because the alternative is that the writing team is being horrifically ableist instead

They turn Splashstar into the stereotype of a "blood-crazed lunatic" in the blink of an eye.

He's yelling at a hallucination of Curlfeather's ghost, experiencing delusions about his righteousness, suddenly snapping and turning violent towards people, acting completely irrationally so he can do whatever the plot demands.

All the while, other cats are noting how he's "crazy" and has "gone mad"

It's REALLY bad.

It almost makes me miss the Evil Chick Tract Atheist of Book 5. At least when I'm getting shit on I know how to make it funny

His death is whatever.

There was a really ridiculous line about how the Clans are going to send an Eviction Notice Patrol to him to "inform him that he is no longer welcome at the lake, not kill him, because we must be better than him 😇💕" but at this point im used to Warrior Cats being Neoliberal Cats. Meowliberal.

And then they kill him lmaoo

Me when i send a Friendly Reminder Squad into Osama Bin Laden's house to let him know he is no longer allowed at McDonald's

I don't have strong feelings on Frostpaw being the one to kill him. I kinda wish it was someone else, but there's also no other worthy or fitting cats in RiverClan.

Just feels odd to me that Harelight died in 1 hit while Frostpaw, who has only really trained to fight for a short time, manages to end him. But whatever.

If I've been talking a lot about Frostpaw it's because she's the most interesting. Sunbeam and Nightheart have never felt more obviously out of place.

The book comes up with SO many excuses to separate Night and Sun that you could probably make a drinking game out of it.

This book needed more time on the editing floor. Errors aside (numerous errors), some chapters feel padded out by Sunbeam and Nightheart telling each other to leave

I feel like you could fill an entire chapter with the scenes of them saying the other should go. Like a Scooby Doo "LET'S SPLIT UP GANG" compilation.

enough has been said about Frostpaw's coma. Tree sucks, I hate how he barges into her dream to yell at her about how she needs to fix RiverClan.

I resent that no one hit the RiverClan cats who started whining about how Frostpaw needs to come back and fix their mess with a baseball bat.

I wish Frostpaw could fire a laser at them from heaven or something

Don't like the way that the narrative sets up Tree demanding she come back like a good thing, and Jayclaw telling her she's allowed to rest and make her own choices like a bad thing.

For the love of god let her have a crumb of autonomy

This book makes me wish I was a paper wasp so I could chew it up into paste and make a sculpture of the RiverClan symbol and then light it on fire, but it's not the worst WC book I've ever read. 4/10

[heybaetae]

hi friends! 👋🏻

i am here with my little 2024 gif wrapped after being tagged by @jkvjimin, @cordiallyfuturedwight, @yooboobies, @taehyunghobi, @jinstronaut, and @btsjk-biased. i didn't expect so many tags, so i appreciate you all for including me and wanting to see me recollect some of the work i shared this year. i'll do so under the cut and leave comments wherever i see fit.

i've seen a couple different ways people have done this, so i'll do a variation of both. i'll list my favorite vs. most popular set per each month + some honorable mentions that i liked or were particularly proud of. feel free to go show any of the mentioned posts some love just as i plan to do with everyone else's some time after i post this!

JANUARY

my favorite - vmin holding hands ↳ because i'm Me and they are insufferable

most popular - thankful taehyung

honorable mentions - jimin at home, koo sprout

FEBRUARY 

my favorite - jikook...playing? ↳ i was mostly just continuing to test out panning gifs when i made this, but i liked it a lot because what the fuck is wrong with jimin

most popular - blue & grey yoongi in vegas

honorable mentions - hobi backstage, exhausted jimin

MARCH 

my favorite - bts debut solo albums as iphones ↳  this was the most labor intensive set i'd made probably since the first set in my social media series (aka the instagram feed...part two next year? i've already outlined the templates but hobi is holding me back) and mayhaps the most disappointing as far as steady engagement goes. it dropped off pretty fast and it really killed my spirit ngl...but we ball. i appreciate everyone who wrote really nice things in the tags <3

most popular - fri(end)s

honorable mentions - fri(end)s live film

APRIL 

my favorite - vmin stretching

most popular - favorite jungkook smiles ↳ i think this was requested by an anonymous person, but it sat in my drafts for many months and i thought "oh this could be an endless series for all the tannies if i'm ever running low on comp ideas". then i finally published it on a slow day and just never made another one. maybe some day lol

honorable mentions - ethereal jungkook, rawr xD jungkook

MAY 

i didn't post anything in may. actually, everything i posted in april was an old draft because i took a break during april and may (in other words: i ran away with my tail between my legs after the iphone set lmaooo)

JUNE

my favorite - life goes on vmin self-cam ↳ act surprised. i can't believe they let this sit on a hard drive for four years and then dumped it on me out of no where during festa, are you fucking crazy

most popular - jimin being small and cute

honorable mentions - smeraldo garden marching band, dino wrists jungkook

JULY 

my favorite - jungkook knows he's cute ↳ i also posted the before and after coloring of this because...girl 😭

most popular - taehyung filling the room with negative energy ↳ i would see that video edit all the time and was like...i need this as big gifs. lowkey the quality kinda slays

honorable mentions - ytc in busan jimin

AUGUST

my favorite - happy birthday jeon jungkook ↳ in my timezone his birthday starts at 8am on august 31st, so that's why i include this with august because it appears within that month in my archive. anyway this was fun and experimental and i'm glad i got it out of my system since i always wanted to try the google theme. i ended up merging it into the social media series because of the templates, but that was clearly a stupid move because if something says happy birthday in the caption people tend to abruptly stop reblogging it when the birthday is over so... 🤡

most popular - jimin struggling in connecticut

honorable mentions - sunscreen jungkook, giggly jikook, raggedy brothers, vmin in jeju

SEPTEMBER 

my favorite - maknae line sharing tae's glasses

most popular - park "believable ass" jimin

honorable mentions - jikook on the train, maknae line love gestures, jungkook being cussed out by jimin

OCTOBER 

my favorite - happy birthday park jimin ↳ another birthday flop but it's so cute

most popular - vmin in the car

honorable mentions - jikook clowning in the barracks

my recap stops there as i have nothing to show for november and december (with the exception of the yeontan tribute set and what i'll be posting for tae's birthday) as i stopped giffing at the end of october.

you can take a look back at everything else i made in my archive here :)

i don't know what the new year will hold for me as far as posting content goes, but thank you very much to those who never stopped supporting my work this year and the last four years since i started this blog. i've had a lot of feelings this year about my place as a gifmaker here and i've struggled a bit reckoning with the low engagement despite how much i know my work is loved by those who matter and never fail to let me know. i am working on reminding myself of this and i offer the same sentiment to anyone else experiencing the same feelings. you all deserve 100x more than what you get back.

for now though, my queue is gonna continue posting for me for a while. if i can get myself out of this funk by the time bts comes back, then i hope to provide whatever i can when the time feels right.

i think nearly everyone has been tagged to do this by now, but i’ll tag (unless you’ve already done it, just lmk or ignore me) @jung-koook, @kimtaegis, @btsiu, @namchyoon, @kookjinnies, @rjshope and whoever else wants to do this, please do and forward it to me or put it in my tracked tag so i can reblog it!

i love you all. happy new year 💜

[tinyangrykitten]

Homophobic client and other shit that sucks or doesn’t make sense.

This sinner’s situation is supposed to force Stolas to reflect on his own, which would have worked if the writers didn’t spend so much time portraying this woman as unreasonable, nasty and petty.

Also it’s just confusing…

This woman doesn’t even know for certain that her husband was cheating on her when they were together, giving the husband some plausible deniability. (Because god forbid gay men do anything wrong. )

In contrast, we do know that Stolas was cheating on Stella because he was still married to her at the time.

In season 2, the writers scrambled to justify this, by making Stella an insufferable dumb bitch with no redeeming qualities. So i don’t know what I meant to take away from this show, except women are unreasonable, nasty and petty.

With Stella, you cannot deny the move into evil Disney step mother territory was abrupt and lazy. Someone on the writing team grew fond of Stolas and decided he needs to be given as many excuses as possible.

But why? Why couldn’t his ego mixed with the strained relationship with his wife be enough to push him to have an affair?

What was wrong with Stella just being an emotionally distant wife who cared a little too much about image and status?

The show has the illusion of holding characters accountable while also making as many excuses for them as possible.

I think Blitz, as much as I find him annoying is the only character who’s been called out for his mistreatment of people.

All that being said..I do like that Octavia is fed up with her neglectful dad, giving Stolas some actual repercussions for his behavior.

But…

It’s such dogshit writing. Oh my god.

Instead of showing Stella as being this clever mastermind, manipulating Octavia into hating Stolas, Stella is just unabashedly evil, laughing like a moronic cartoon villain in front of her daughter. As crappy as her dad may be, the show has given Octavia no reason to side with her mom either.

I have a hard time giving a shit about any character in this show bc their actions don’t line up, nothing makes any sense and the emotional moments feel cheap and unearned.

[neiptune]

hello santa neiptune for your holiday servings i think christmas pudding with either shoyo + a prompt 6 (family invited an old crush/first love to a dinner party) or sunsrin with prompt 19 ("I'm going to buy/make the worst secret Santa gift humanly possible") or atsumu with prompt 13 (neighbourhood festive decoration competition becomes dangerously competitive) smooch smooch smooch smooch

rintaro suna x I'm going to buy the worst secret santa gift humanly possible

“Shut up everyone, it’s time!”, Atsumu’s comically authoritarian tone swallows the chatter, the living room of his apartment growing silent.

“Why can’t we pick who we want to get a gift for?”, Aran grumbles from his end of the couch. The setter frowns.

“Because I think none of you assholes would pick me”.

“Whatever gave that away”, Suna clicks his tongue. A soft, empty stocking collides with his face.

“Yer picking first!”, Atsumu holds the old dunkin donuts box under his nose, shaking it slightly to further shuffle the folded pieces of paper in it.

“I’m going to buy the worst secret santa gift humanly possible”, Rintaro, ever the grinch, grumbles as slender fingers randomly draw a name.

“Rin, you’re supposed to look at it later!”, you lightly elbow him in the ribs but he pulls back, avoiding the jab. The only sign of something flashing across his deadpan features is a slight twitch of the brow as he reads the name he pulled out. Then it’s gone, small piece of paper tucked safely into the pocket of his sweatpants.

“Your turn”, Atsumu brings the box to you with a grin. You know he hopes you draw his name, you’re notoriously the best gift giver of the group and he wasn’t exactly ecstatic about the Blue Lock themed calendar Osamu got him the previous year, especially with that insufferable Rin dude occupying the page dedicated to his birth month.

“I hope it’s me”, Osamu crosses his fingers from the other side of the room, where he’s resting his back against the fireplace. You chuckle, keep the small piece of paper in your closed fist as you patiently wait for everyone else to draw their names.

The boys make a whole spectacle out of unfolding the pieces of paper, Atsumu the most teased one between whistles, oohs and ahhs. You make sure not to let the small pang of disappointment shine through your smile: you’re happy it’s Kita, you love Kita. You just would’ve loved for it to be Rin more.

The designated gift exchange day is a week later, right on christmas eve. The anxiety churning in your stomach is suffocating because why would you even get something for him too? All you had to do was pick a nice gift for Shinsuke, the easiest person to please on planet earth. But now there are two extra nicely wrapped presents under the tree in your living room, one of them will make you look like a complete dumbass because there won’t be any logical explanation to justify an additional gift. Atsumu will never shut up about it, like, ever. Fuck.

You’re abruptly pulled away from your thoughts when the doorbell rings, the sound making you jump. Confusion is still written all over your features when you open the door, not expecting any guest or delivery.

“Hey”, Rintaro tosses you a tiny smile to balance the hesitancy out.

“Rin”, surprised, you blink a few times, “you okay?”.

“Yeah. Can I come in?”.

“Of course!”.

He takes off his shoes and slowly steps into your apartment, cheeks unusually flushed courtesy of the cold outside.

“What’s that?”, you curiously peek at the bag he holds in his hand while he walks to your couch and you gingerly trail behind him.

“I’m your secret santa”, he clears his throat, “didn’t wanna give this to you in front of everyone. Don’t make it weird”.

You sit next to him with mirth swarming in stupidly bright eyes. Suna feels his palms getting clammy.

“So you wanted to give me the worst gift humanly possible… early?”.

“Exactly. Here”, he hands you the small paper bag, “you’re welcome”.

“You’re a dick”, you giggle, unable to disguise the affection in your voice.

Inside the bag there are two numbered envelopes. You open the first, smaller one.

“What the…?”, it’s a regular yellow post-it, with a handwritten note.

Congratulations on your hardly earned free time. Make the most of it :)

“Check the other one”, Suna indicates the remaining envelope.

“I’m confused”.

The second gift is… handmade coupons for messy, scribbled options: concert, one meal, roadtrip, win an argument, breakfast.

“You get two coupons. I kinda already have tickets for your favorite band”.

“But”, your throat feels dry, “I don’t… I have to work?”.

“You don’t. I emailed your boss, got you some time off, something you never would’ve done for yourself”, Suna looks away, inscrutable as always. Your heart slams harder against your ribcage.

“Rin”.

He meets your gaze and you offer a smile.

“I got you something too”.

thank you for trusting my writing, hope you enjoy! happy holidays mwah

[bitethedevil]

If any can you tell what you like about Raphael? And what you hate? If he was a real person would you date someone like him?

Those are some super interesting questions.

I made a little love letter a while back about all the things I like about him.

What I hate about him

Everything. I daydream about strangling him every now and again. Just to see the life leave his eyes. He’s such a smug, evil little shit. For every ten horny and/or loving thoughts I have about him, there’s at least one or two that are just purely violent. I can’t even really explain it. I want to kiss him and kill him. The duality of man or something.

If you want more specific things that I hate:

The obvious evil and disturbing things he does, of course. On the other hand, I wouldn’t want him any other way.

In a realistic setting, I think I would get really tired of the poetry and songs really quickly. I’m a former theatre kid. It’s another thing I have a love/hate relationship with. It’s fine in small portions.

I’ve said before that he would be insufferable to be near for longer periods of time and I stand by that. He’s intense. Again: fine in small portions.

Would I date him if he was real?

Honestly? I’ve been out of the dating market for four years, so it’s difficult to answer, but I know that the old me would date him in a heartbeat. Older, handsome, charismatic man who stinks of money? Say less. Sign me the fuck up.

I think the current me would be lying if I said I wouldn’t date him now, but I would be a lot more careful with someone like him, and I would probably fall for him for slightly different reasons.

The current me would see him as a fun challenge (which says something about my lack of self-preservation). I like mental stimulation. Someone like him who plays mind games would keep me occupied for a while. Not in any healthy way, mind you. It would without a doubt turn toxic really fast. It’s not an ‘I can fix him’-moment. It’s definitely more of a 'he can make me so much worse and I would stupidly thank him for it’.

I’m not ashamed to say I would fall head over heels for how we first meet him. He’s charming, he captures your attention, he makes you feel special. I can even find his lack of humility sort of charming and different, coming from a culture where it’s a bit taboo to brag or be too prideful of your own achievements. The fact that he is not one to lie appeals to me as well. He might be an evil bastard, but he’s an evil bastard with some sort of moral compass at least.

I’m not deluded about the fact that I wouldn’t win the fucked up mind games he has going on. I wouldn’t. But a weird masochistic part of me says that it would be fun to try.  

(Thank you for the ask <3)

[bookofbonnie]

siren - ellie williams.

Pairing: College!AU Ellie Williams x Cheerleader!Reader.

Warnings: Very light smut. Cheating. Swearing. Arguing. Reader is still in the closet and it’s hurting Ellie. Ellie’s mean (rightfully so).

Summary: Everything about your life is perfect. Perfect family. Perfect boyfriend. Perfect grades. Cheerleading Captain. Sorority President. You have it all and yet, it’s not enough because hidden within all those perfect layers is Ellie Williams. The one imperfection in your perfect life. You know you shouldn’t be sneaking around with her and yet you can’t help it. But, how long can the two of you carry on before it all comes to a head?

Word Count: 600+

A/N: This is an edited and repost of an old story originally posted on my other writing blog well over a year ago. I think I’ll finally write the second part.

Your breath, like your hands, shakes; the rest of your body wired with tension.

You grip the sink to stop it, skin tight across your knuckles from doing so as you continue to take deep breaths. You count three seconds in, three seconds out. Trying to focus on anything that would take your mind off of the guilt threatening to consume you.

But, you don't have to try too hard because Ellie’s everywhere, all over you, all at once, leaving you little to no room to think about anything else except, her, her, her.

Her and her calloused hands that were sliding over your exposed torso as she presses feather light kisses along the soft skin of your neck, holding your body against hers.

The guilt begins to subside with the distraction she provides... but not completely. It never does.

“I-I have to go,” you tell Ellie, eyes closing and body melting into hers. "I have to go before the siren sounds."

“So, go. No one's stopping you,” Ellie mumbles into your neck before taking the skin between her lips and sucking.

You should tell her to stop, you know you should. You had to go out soon and you couldn’t have a fresh hickey on your neck, the rest of the squad would notice and your coach would rip you a new one if she saw it.

"No marks," you tell her breathlessly. "Coach will notice."

Yet you tilt your head, giving her unrestricted access to the curve of your neck and when her other hand slips beneath your top, lithe fingers grazing your hardened nipple, you let out the softest of moans without realising.

Ellie snickers, “that's what you're worried about, your coach?”

“Yes, I already told you, people will ask questions, you can’t keep leaving mark on me… can’t keep doing this,” you swallow thickly, releasing your hold on the sink and pushing the arm she had holding you in place, further down your body – down toward where you needed her the most.

You feel her smirk into your neck.

“Didn’t you tell me that the last time we did this?” her fingers dancing teasingly along the top of your skirt, “and the time before that? And the time before that?”

Her words wash over you like a bucket of ice-cold water, body going rigid and eyes flying open as guilt & nausea overwhelm you as she reminds you of your constant infidelity and you rip yourself from her arms.

“I meant it,” you hastily adjust your top and skirt back into place, eyes welling with the familiar sting of guilt-ridden tears. “I have a boyfriend.”

“And I have fake pot plants,” Ellie rolls her eyes.

“Excuse me?”

“Same thing. Useless things we both keep around for decoration,” Ellie mocks.

“You’re insufferable,” you regard her bitterly.

“And you’re a liar," she bites back, mood soured and your face crumples. “You lie about who you are, who you truly are, all the time. To me. To your boyfriend. To your family. To yourself.”

Her words are a slap to the face, unshed tears blurring your vision. She always knew where to hit you where it hurt. But, there it was, that voice in the back of your head that reminded you that none of this would hurt if you hadn’t let her in. Hadn’t kept her around. Hadn’t let yourself develop feelings for her. Hadn’t crawled back to her more times than you could count on your hands and knees and, all for what? A few fleeting moments of happiness? Happiness that was always stained around the edges because you couldn’t have her. Couldn’t have Ellie the way you truly wanted because she didn’t fit into your perfect life. Your carefully constructed life that was slowly coming apart at the seams.

“Stop it, Ellie,” you plead quietly.

"Why? So you can feel good about yourself when you crawl back into bed with your boyfriend tonight? We both know you’re only with him to keep up your perfect little image.”

Ellie turns her nose up at you, sneering.

“But, you don’t love him. Hell, I don’t even think you like him.”

“That’s not true,” you protest weakly, arms wrapping around yourself. “I love him.”

But maybe you deserved her hurt. Afterall, you were hurting her just as much.

“Oh yeah?” Ellie smirks, green eyes piercing into your own as she crowds you against the wall, her arms caging you, head tilting mockingly, and lips curling cruelly at the corners, taunting, “then what the fuck are you doing in here with me, when you’re supposed to be out there for him?”

Your throat feels like it’s closing in on itself as the inevitable siren sounds in the distance.

The game had already started.

-

All fics are my own work - I have not posted my work anywhere else.

Disclaimer: I do not own any characters/places mentioned above.

Do not copy. Do not translate. Do not repost.

© bookofbonnie 2024. All rights reserved.

[mookybear12404]

My absolute favorite thing about Alhaitham’s demo is that it makes it canon that he, Cyno, Tighnari, and Kevah all get together to have wine and play trading card games.

[fascinationstreetmp3]

i need daniel to be overcompensating for his insecurities so bad. 100 times more cocky and rude and aggressive and insensitive than he was as a human, falling back into old dangerous habits and vices, not just because now he has new energy and power and wealth to flaunt but because it's ALL he has, and he needs to cling onto it. play it up and revel in it so no one sees that underneath, he feels like a botched fledgling in the body of a sick, faded old man who maybe has no real idea why he was even made. that armand might think he failed in making him. that his maker didn't even really want him.

[gnomewithalaptop]

Transcendence AU Dash Simulator GO!!!

31 notes

🌟 lesbianstellaconifer Follow

okay but actually block me if you ship mizcor -- 'hurr durr but we age stella up' -- SHUT UPPP she's literally a minor and alcor's canonically over a million years old so how about you stop being a freak

🎩 woodsmans-left-nipple Follow

Babe I hate to break this to you but Mizcor's literally one of the most famous relationships in all of post-transcendental literature

🌟 lesbianstellaconifer Follow

I could not have more obviously been talking about Mizar the Magnificent but you know what? Yeah classic Mizcor supporters can fuck off too actually.

Everybody likes to whip out Twin Souls like some kind of gotcha but have you even actually read it??? Like it's literally supporting demon worship and pedophilia -- both of which are EXTREMELY ILLEGAL btw. So yeah if I see any of my followers reblogging that shit I'm reporting you to the Occult Defense Agency idc if we're mutuals

🐟 demonologyturnedmegay Follow

*looks at my Alcorian Literature PhD* guess we better stock up on prison shivs buddy

🍃 haveyouseenmylibrary Follow

okay I'm sorry but

and Mizar the Magnificent isn't????

5k notes

📷 nature-pics-daily

Los Angeles 🏝️

#sunken city of los angeles #new california #travel #ocean #photography #lmao i almost got eaten by a kelpie trying to take this pic pls reblog it

98 notes

🧁 definitely-mizar Follow

Hey guys! Just wanted to let you know that The Scepter of Vanquished Souls, the newest book in the Wanderlust Trilogy, is now available for pre order on Glamazon!

Purchasers of the hard-cover edition will also receive never-before-seen content, including a deleted scene between Princess Samia and the Shadow King!

🤷‍♂️ not-not-ian-beale Follow

Boosting because I honestly cannot recommend this book enough. Truly one of Mira's best (and I'm not just saying that because she married me!)

25k notes

⚠️ alv Follow

CONGRATULATIONS!!!

You are the 6 billionth user to log into Jumblr today!! This means you are eligible to win a FREE WACBOOK PRO!!!! Click here to claim your prize and win BIG BIG REWARDS!!

#twin souls #mizar #alcor #mizcor #twin souls: reawakened #twin souls: breaking circles #twin souls: newest moon #twinner #twincon3015 #not a scam

Based on your likes!

0 notes

🌞 azarath-metrion-zinthirst Follow

So. I had a day.

📖 stanley-pines-memorial-library Follow

Okay, but consider

🌞 azarath-metrion-zinthirst Follow

I don't remember my older brother's wedding

📖 stanley-pines-memorial-library Follow

A small price to pay for no middle school trauma

🐧 selkiebael Follow

Okay so I just read the url and--

Asfdksfjk go off you funky lil intern

📖 stanley-pines-memorial-library Follow

I'm actually the senior librarian. But thanks!

🐈 alcorphabetical Follow

Posts that have 10k notes. To me

15k notes

🔮 demonoftheday Follow

Today's demon of the day is Nxlar the Antithetical! Responsible for the Florida Springs Massacre of 3007, the body count for this purveyor of madness is estimated to be over 400 (source).

🐸 that-one-half-elf-bitch

I could fix her

41 notes

🍑 lookingformygnomequeen Follow

literally screaming crying throwing up rn I've turned off 'Based on your likes' like eight times @staff can't you just get rid of him already

2.5k notes

🎤 rosaslittleredboots Follow

#i accidentally set my alchemy textbook on fire today and i don't even care AAAAAA this is going to be amazing #northwest mansion mystery #pacifica northwest #rosa darling #im about to be so insufferable about this just you wait

616 notes

👹 sexiestdemon3015bracket Follow

🐸 that-one-half-elf-bitch

Nxlar SWEEEEEP!!!

#if you love me at all you'll vote for my lady love #LISTEN i could bring her to the light i nkow i could

37 notes

👻 sweetthingsaremadeofdeeznuts

Lmao so Nxlar the Antithetical totally turned my apartment complex into a pile of sentient sludge yesterday. I'm fine -- I was at work when it all went down, but uh... yeah, my situation obviously just became super not-great. I hate to ask, but I don't get paid til the 15th, so if some of y'all could float me some cash just so I can get a motel room for a couple nights, I'll fr owe you a life debt

Goal: 0/250

FundFriend

LenMo

#fuck demons fr #like seriously what'd i ever do to them 😭😭😭 #mutual aid #pls boost #don't tag as donation

17 notes

🏳️‍⚧️ gliesssse Follow

Important PSA

So idk if y'all have been reading the news lately, but the alcor virus has been making the rounds on the interwebs again. I feel like I shouldn't have to say this but PLEASE don't click any random links rn, ESPECIALLY if they're tagged with twin souls.

I know we twinners love to joke about it, but the alcor virus is legitimately dangerous and has been known to seriously ruin people's lives. Idk. Just like be smart and practice basic caution I guess? Jumblr's pretty much dead these days, so he might skip over us, but it's always better to be safe than sorry

⚠️ alv Follow

This is a good point! It is always better to be safe than sorry! That's why if you're smart, you'll click here for a list of ways to virus-proof your computer. Stay safe out there everybody!

Based on your likes!

4k notes

🌲 discogirl99 Follow

Anyone else just randomly crave connective tissue sometimes

🧁 sparkle-glitter-sideblog

no actually i think that might just be a you thing

#also i heard screaming on the other line when i called you earlier there better not be a mess when i get home #beloved demon brother tag

2 notes

👑 sameeya

Okay guys I might be crazy but what if the Shadow King was actually telling the truth when he said Princess Samia's brother is still alive??? Like, if you think about it, there's a tonnnn of foreshadowing in Crown of Ghosts and the author tweeted that there was gonna be a surprise twist in the new book sooo 👀👀

#i've connected the dots -- YOU DIDN'T CONNECT SHIT -- i've connected them #wanderlust trilogy #mira ramachandran #crown of ghosts #scepter of vanquished souls #princess samia #samia of cleves #shadow king #ahmed of cleves #bookblr

25 notes

🪨 professionalnatural-deactivated30141227

Reminder that you are beautiful exactly as you are and there are thousands who would sell their souls to imitate what you do naturally <3

👠 mizarsfrillypetticoat Follow

I actually really needed this today 💗

🦇 plsbytemevladdyzaddy Follow

Yo quit reblogging this op is a blatant human supremacist

🪨 professionalnatural-deactivated30141227

And? No one cares lmao

⚠️ alv Follow

Enjoy deactivation. Lmao.

🪓 wenda-was-a-lesbian-confirmed Follow

🕵🏻‍♂️ alcor-in-the-tardis Follow

#I sent screenshots of that one centaur post to her boss too #give you two guesses what species his wife is (tags by @alv)

Holy shit. Am I actually rooting for the alcor virus rn?

🍄 warioxreader Follow

maybe the real virus was the friends we made along the way <3

⚠️ alv Follow

No, the real virus is me. Don't take credit for my accomplishments.

🐲 retiredbus Follow

Heritage post

62k notes

🐔 old-friends-senior-griffin-sanctuary Follow

I just want to get dicked down again =/

[queen0fm0nsterz]

Ended up pirating all of Hazbin for the sake of my younger days (used to be a fan when I was around 14/15, before all the stuff with Viv came out) and I am so surprised by how I felt... nothing for the most part. Like a lot of the show's storylines feel like they was crammed in there with no real pacing. A lot of this should have been season 2 territory, which is a sentiment I've seen echoed around, but also... it feels as if the show is trying to be episodic while also having a long narrative thread, which just doesn't work with just 8 episodes. Especially not when paced like this. So I kinda ended up feeling nothing for the most part. All the events got a "Oh, great, so what?" reaction out of me because there was little to no buildup to most of them.

Sir Pentious was always a fave of mine so I was glad to see they kept him around and, though I think we should have had more episodes with him as a villain, I think how he ended up was fitting for what little of an arc he had. I am livid about what they did to Cherri and Mimzy.

I fucking loved Mimzy, I have no idea why they sent her away -- having someone like her at the Hotel would have been a blast considering how the others are already on the road to redemption. She would have balanced it out by being a regular sinner, someone who doesn't care about redemption and won't probably ever care unless it's in her best interests to. Plus her friendship with Alastor was quite cute, they bounce off of each other very well imo. Plus I could see her have a bit of a conflict with both Charlie and Vaggie because of her ways of acting. I'm so sorry they took that from you girlboss.

And Cherri... dear lord where WAS she? She should have been a lot more present. I used to like her relationship with Angel and I even think Cherrisnake is cute conceptually, but both these relationship had... little to no room to breathe imo.

[ridrawsart]

Thinking about Kiriona Gaia and Harrow the First. Thinking about an AU where they met. Thinking about how tragic of a dynamic that would've been. Thinking of what it'd be like to be in love with a girl that can't even remember you and respects you because you're prince to the empire but hates being around you because every time she is she gets massive headaches and starts to bleed from her ears.

Just girly things.

[mothwingwritings]

Kiss The Pain Away

F!readerXMotobe Izou

It’s October, which is one of the most choice months to exist, and I have been mia for weeks and didn’t wish you guys a hello and happy holidays to the start of Halloween so I apologize and please forgive me for that.  ꃋᴖꃋ That being said HAPPY 17 DAYS INTO HALLOWEEN EVERYONE WAHOO YIPPEE!

I come humbly offering a little Motobe fic that I have been working on for an embarrassingly long amount of time some time now, and though it isn’t necessarily explicitly Halloween themed its yandere and messed up so it fits the bill well enough I hope. :D

I really want to maybe (big emphasis on the maybe) put out some kind of spooky/monster thing (even if it’s just a small blurb in the void) for Halloween but I think you all know me well enough by now to know that that may not happen, despite my best intentions. ^^; I will try my darndest though, so here’s to hoping. 八(＾□＾*)

Anyway, I hope you enjoy and I love and appreciate you all very much thank you for reading!!! ~<3

WARNINGS: Gore and a lot of blood, this whole fic is basically centered around reader hurting themselves (accidentally) so there is just so much blood. If blood is not your thing please be mindful. Also: kidnapping, forced affection, Motobe being a delusional creep, the tiniest mentions of noncom/dubcon and maybe cannibalism, language, violence, and just general dark/yandere vibes.

Blood surrounded you.

Pooling in your hand, dripping steadily to the floor, an intense pain was pulsating from the open wound it originated from. The weapon you had cut yourself with laid discarded at your feet on the floor, tossed aside the moment you grabbed it incorrectly and caused the gory scene you now stood the center of.

The cut left behind was deep and agonizing, extending over the entire length of your palm and down your wrist, tearing into the soft skin of your upper arm. The initial slice was so excruciating that for a horrifying moment you thought the whole hand had been sliced in two, your body trembling from the shock as you tried to assess the damage through the gore. A sharp gasp of pain hissed from your lips whenever you moved your arm, the searing sting causing tears to dribble down your cheeks as easily as the blood trickled down your arm.

“(Name), I’m back!”

Shit.

Your eyes darted toward the entrance of the house, panic quickly consuming you at the sound of Motobe’s cheery voice. He wasn’t supposed to be back for another hour at least, he told you as much before he left this morning. You cursed under your breath as you took in the mess around you, frowning at the realization that it would take far more than a hasty wipe up job to clear it all away. A deep frown settled on your face, you wouldn’t have attempted this had you of known what little time you truly had.

Motobe was not apt to follow a strict schedule, so trying to figure out when you would be left alone for an extended period of time was no easy task. The man had no concept of personal space, and from the moment he snatched you up moments of peace had become few and far between. He was always breathing down your neck, butting into your business, keeping constant tabs on each and every thing you did while you were trapped under his roof. He tried to play it off as if he was merely just spending quality time with you, taking an interest in your hobbies and life because he truly cared about getting to know you. All he wanted was to be in your presence, to understand you, to show you that he loved you.

The incessant hounding made you sick, his mockery of actual attentiveness rage inducing. That pleased little curl of his lip when you acknowledged him, or the sparkle in his eye when you gave in and conversed with him, did nothing but stir your disdain. It didn’t take you long to come to the conclusion that Motobe must be crazy if he saw his actions as that of a cherishing lover, as if everything he had done to you was anything besides fuel to stroke his ego, feeding his misguided obsession.

If a lasting relationship was his end game, he had already screwed up royally by knocking you out and locking you in his home against your will. It felt like ages since you had seen your friends, centuries since talking to your family. Your coworkers probably thought you were dead, and your landlord had definitely long since cleared out your apartment, someone else was most likely living out their day to day life peacefully inside it’s walls as you suffered. No amount of forced affection and smothering attention would help his case, no matter how much he tried to convince himself otherwise.

For months you had been plotting your escape. Motobe wasn’t keen on leaving you alone, and while he did all he could to spend as much time with you as physically possible, that didn’t mean he never left the house. Some time apart was unavoidable if he wanted to keep you fed and ‘cared’ for without risking you getting sick, hurt, or (god forbid) having you step out into the big, scary world on your own for an errand run.

Though he never seemed to stay out long, he definitely had some kind of life outside of you (a luxury you feared would never be awarded to you again, Motobe seemed quite content to have you rely on him entirely), but he kept you ignorant to the details of his sporadic comings and goings. It wasn’t that you were overly interested in what he did when he stepped away from the building that encapsulated you, but having no real clue as to his hobbies, relations, and profession made calculating what days and time frames he would be away for long periods of time difficult to decipher.

Nevertheless you persevered, and through a careful analysis of his activity you managed to narrow down several dates when he was sure to be gone for longer than just a few minutes, giving you a fair chance to make a move.

 And from there, your plan truly took off.

With a tentative date and time, the next hurdle you focused on was taking note of his secret weapon stashes. You made the most of the moments he’d briefly unveil them, keeping to the shadows so that he wouldn’t spot you peeping, doing your best to commit their location to memory. While stealing peeks at his vast array of artillery, you couldn’t help but wonder who would need THAT many weapons, and what exactly he did out in the world that required him to be so armed? Was he in the military, or maybe a terrorist (the latter wouldn’t be all that shocking, considering how you arrived here)? Was this all just a really intense hobby? It unnerved you, but you pushed past your concerns. After all, he had never threatened you with his arsenal, why fret over it now?

Fueled by the taste of freedom on your tongue, you had started sucking up to Motobe, acting demure and agreeable to get his guard down and (hopefully) grant you more freedom.  Each unwanted kiss was reciprocated, every advance responded to with a coy smile. You never considered yourself much of an actor, but seeing how easily he seemed to fall for it, maybe you don’t give yourself enough credit.

After weeks of gritting your teeth and putting up with his heavy handed affection, all your hard work had finally paid off. Your proverbial chains were lifted, and Motobe no longer suctioned himself to you all hours of the day, granting you some much needed leeway. You took that ounce of freedom and ran with it, walking around the house untethered, narrowing down which doors and windows would make the best escape routes.

Motobe opened up more to you in turn, sharing stories and tidbits from his life that he previously kept closely guarded. While thankful for any insight that may assist your plight, his ramblings left you more confused than anything. From his perspective, he made himself out to be some manner of hero, making cryptic comments that the livelihoods of so many people were weighing heavily on his already overburdened shoulders. He’d always make sure to add that you were never part of that burden, ‘saving’ you was his destiny and an honor, being your guardian was a privilege he didn’t take lightly.

Never mind the fact that you were never once in danger as you lived out your mundane, Motobe free life. If anything, you were probably much safer back then then you were now, but trying to explain that to Motobe was counterproductive, so you kept your mouth shut.

The best you could gather was that he saw himself as some manner of vigilante who did martial arts work on the side to fund his less lucrative job of being everyone’s great protector. His idealistic view on his existence would be endearing if you didn’t know the truth of it. Stomaching his rose tinted view of this life you lived with him was hard enough as is, but actively watching Motobe hide behind his savior complexto justify all his wrong doings added to your revulsion. If nothing else could be said for him, he certainly would make a fascinating case study for any psychiatrist who could stomach his self-righteous bullshit.

But regardless of how much you believed or understood him, you pretended to take an interest in Motobe’s life, using the pieces of info you gathered about his future plans and where he frequently traveled to finally hammer down the ideal timeslot of escape.

For once in a very long time, luck was on your side. And things only continued to get easier for you from there.

Motobe’s new lax outlook on your relationship carried over to his weapons as well, making it much easier for you to take stock of them. Being so close to so many deadly things frightened you, and the fact that they were never far from Motobe’s reach did little to ease your already shot nerves. You had seen him in action as he practiced in his private dojo, wielding each one with the skilled hands of an expert as he decimated training dummy after training dummy. Watching him had acquainted you well with the brutality he was able to inflict with said weapons at his disposal-the flayed dummies a brutal reminder that his gloating was not entirely bullshit. And it wasn’t just weapons either, the man had a knack for turning anything he laid hands on into a deadly device, be it a toothpick or a teddy bear. The damage he could do with an actual arsenal was more than enough to keep you from attempting anything haphazardly, forcing you into subservience to avoid upsetting him, fearful that he may eventually cast his ire your way.

However, even with his new found penchant for opening up, he seldom wielded his weaponry in your presence, mainly only taking them out for routine maintenance. This is how you gained most of your knowledge, by spying on him while he tended to and arranged his varying munitions. Though you did your best to be covert while you did so, you were pretty sure he was always aware you were near. He had asked you several times on cleaning days if you were interested in watching, but each time you bashfully declined, feigning ignorance to your own snooping. Truthfully, it upset you that he was able to read you so plainly, but you were thankful that he seemed to chock your research up to mild interest and not an assault plan.

After you felt you had a decent enough grasp on his hoard, including how they were secured and safeguarded, your plot was nearly to fruition. You had memorized the combination lock that let you into the vaulted room (after you had seen him do it once it was easy to remember, he had made the code your birth date after all), kept track of the different places he kept the keys that lead to each individual weapon case, snagging the one he was least likely to notice was missing. A date had been set for when he would be gone nearly the entire day, so all that was left for you to do was put your plan into action.

And that is how things had proceeded thus far, all according to plan. For a moment you thought maybe God or some other sort of powerful entity had thrown you a bone, pitying you enough that they finally decided to offer some divine intervention. Excitement buzzed throughout you, this was it! Everything had fallen into place and this was your moment to put all your hard work and planning into motion. You would be armed, you would hide, you would spring on Motobe as soon as he came through the door, stunning and wounding him, and then when he was downed you would run as fast as your goddamn legs would carry you and keep running until these past few months were just a horrible blur in the past.

It really was a shame that the key you managed to grab ended up unlocking the weapon you were least familiar with, one with a hidden blade concealed near the handle that you happened to learn about the hard way. Funny how after months of planning all your hope was quashed by one tiny misstep, the throbbing wound on your hand mocking you for even considering you had a chance of escape. If the God that assisted you thus far was watching, you wondered if he was laughing at you.

You frowned as you heard his heavy footsteps coming closer your way. “… Sweetie, can you hear me?”

You fumbled, slipping on your own fluids in an attempt to flee the scene and head to the relative safety of the bathroom. A hiss escaped your lips as your knees collided against the cold tile of the dojo floor with a dull thud, the resulting pain insignificant compared to that of your palm.

Apparently picking up on your blunder, the footsteps in the hall hastened until they stopped abruptly at the rooms entrance. You heard a sharp intake a breath, turning to find Motobe staring at the scene with wide eyes, a furrowed brow, and lips slightly parted as he took in the blood bath before him.

“Baby…” He cooed at you sickeningly, looking at you with such sad, pathetic eyes it made you want to vomit right on the spot. He took a few steps inside, making his way towards you. “What happened?”

His eyes flicked to the discarded weapon on the floor, and a brief shadow flitted across his features, “…You got into one of my caches?”

His voice wasn’t accusing so much as it was disappointed. He breathed a heavy sigh, coming upon your crumpled form with slow, calculated steps, as if you were a scared rabbit he was trying to keep from bolting. Instinctively you went to hide your wound, tucking your hand close to your body to shield your embarrassing faux pas from the man who hovered above you. You could practically feel the dissatisfaction radiating off him as you concealed yourself from him, a deep frown sure to be set on his face if you were to deign him the pleasure of eye contact.

“(Name),” his voice was sterner this time, punctuated by the use of your name and not one of his disgusting pet names, “Let me see your hand. This amount of blood loss is nothing to turn your nose at. You’ll need stitches at the very least. Please, let me see.”

He held out his hand patiently, which you stared at in consideration for several seconds before yielding. Shakily, you withdrew your hand from your chest, laying it gently in Motobe’s steady hold.

“Oh sweetheart” he clicked his tongue, gingerly holding your hand palm up, inspecting the gaping, self-inflicted wound, “Look at this! This is why I always tell you to ask me for help if you have an interest in any of the weapons, you’ll end up hurting yourself like this if you don’t know how to handle them properly.”

In every regard, Motobe was always so gentle with you. Speaking to you, touching you, being intimate with you, he always treated you as if you were made of glass ready to shatter at one mishandle. This interaction was no different, as he carefully turned your hand this way and that, a soft, sincere expression settled on his face. He was deeply concerned for you, worried and upset about the pain you were undoubtedly suffering through.

But even with all his apparent sincerity, the only feeling you could muster for him was contempt. If he hadn’t captured you and forced you into this suffocating house against your will, you would never have suffered an agony such as this. It didn’t matter how kindly he outwardly appeared, you would never give in to him, not when you knew what a monster he truly was.

He let out a low hum as he continued his inspection, “You damn near cut to the bone, we need to get you cleaned up so it doesn’t get infected,” He started to lean towards you, arms outstretched as they began to envelope you, “I’ll take you to the bathroom.”

Slapping his hands away, Motobe’s eyes widened as you scuttled back, your knees smearing your blood in a vibrant, gruesome streak.

“I can walk myself,” You hissed through clenched teeth, shooting him a hate filled glare. “Don’t touch me.”

He sighed, his brow furrowing, “Baby, look at how much blood you have lost. If you get up on your own, you are going to be dizzy. You already fell once, didn’t you?”

You continued to glare at him, jaw set in a harsh frown. You knew he was right, but couldn’t bring yourself to admit it. Your vision was already slightly blurred from the blood loss mixed with the anger that was coursing through your system, if you tried to stand on your own, you were sure to topple instantly.

Taking your silence as a go ahead, he slowly proceeded to wrap you in his arms, hoisting you up as one might a child. He made his way to the bathroom, being sure to avoid slipping on his way there.

With a grunt, he seated you on the toilet and proceeded to dig around for something to staunch the bleeding. It didn’t take him long to procure some gauze bandages and a warm, wet cloth to start cleaning the wound. He moved delicately, but you still cringed the moment he came to near to the torn flesh. Shooting you an empathetic look, he moved efficiently to minimize the time you spent in pain.

After he had gotten the wound moderately cleaned, he had you press a towel to it, catching the new blood that was seeping out. Your heart rate quickened as you saw him fish around for suturing supplies. The pain in your hand was already abysmal, and you weren’t looking forward to the new wave of agony a novice stick job was about to bring you.

He chuckled softly as he laid out his tools, preparing for the inevitable, “You know, I’m a little surprised. I always lock my weapons up securely, double checking them before I leave the room. I know I am getting older, but I am not so senile that I left one wide open…” He shot you a quick look, a definite questioning undertone to it that you found hard to face.

“It must have been some work getting to them,” his voice grew quieter as he turned his full attention your way. There was sternness to him that he didn’t typically use on you, making you want to shrink in on yourself. “Something tells me it wasn’t a mere coincidence that you had one in your possession, and judging by your lack of interest any other time I tried to teach you about them, I doubt you merely wanted to take a look.”

He crouched down, elbows resting on his knees as he stared deeply into your eyes, “(Name)… Why were you in my weapons? What were you trying to do?”

His voice was tinged with dismay, but remained disarmingly reserved. It was as if he knew your whole plan already and just wanted you to fess up to it. He was ready and waiting to hear you confess your sins, break down to him in a sobbing voice about how sorry you were, plead for his forgiveness. And he would give it to you, he always did. Because he loved you, because he cared for you more than anyone, because he was the only one on this entire planet who could ever hold such deep and profound affection for you. You felt like a little girl being scolded by her father, he may be let down by you, but his despondence over this moment would never overshadow the ceaseless adoration he has for you.

It made your blood boil.                                                                                                                         

“What was I trying to do?” You seethed, your body starting to slightly quake with your thinly concealed rage, “I was trying to get the fuck out of here! Escape to some place, any place, where I never have to see you again! You’re so deluded you probably conveniently forgot this, but you kidnapped me you asshole!”

You scooted as far back on the toilet as you could, giving yourself as much space as physically possible. You took a shuddering breath before continuing to spit your venom, meeting his gaze with daggers.

“You think I want to be here, trapped in this hell hole with you? You think I like having you paw at me, or that I get off to you forcing yourself on me? Do you think its fun to have every moment of my life under a microscope, all of my autonomy taken from me as you live out your sick little hero fantasy, convincing yourself that you are caring for me, helping me, or that you actually love me?”

You shook your head, fighting back angry tears that threatened to spill, “You’re SICK Itou, you have been for a very long time. I thought it was obvious at this point, but let me spell it out for you. I took the weapon to fucking attack you. I stole its so that I could hurt you bad enough to run away from this shit hole and get away from you forever.”

Your voice dropped as you stared into his tempestuous eyes, a small smirk tugging at your lips. Maybe you would never be strong or cunning enough to physically wound Motobe, but that didn’t mean you couldn’t hurt him in other ways.

“I fucking hate you,” your words were quiet, but clear, spoken with clear intent. “And no matter how much you pretend otherwise, I will always, always hate you.”

Silence hung in the air, punctuated only by the sound of your ragged breathing. A noticeable chill permeated the room, causing goose bumps to litter your flesh. You expected an intense reaction, a severe rebuttal to your stinging tirade, possibly even tears over how callously you were treating him. Instead, you received suffocating stillness, the man before you a rigid statue, his emotions impossible to read as you stared into his impassive face.

That scared you much more than his fury ever could.

“Hmmm,” he eventually hummed, eyes glazing over as they bored down on you, his grip slowly tightening around your arm, “I found you on your knees, but you must have fallen and hit your head too, huh sweetheart?”

“What’re you talking about-“

The exasperated words could barely leave your lips before he gave a tight squeeze, sending a wave of fresh pain up your already throbbing arm. You cried out, struggling to pull from his grasp, but it only made his grip stronger. You flopped around uselessly, trapped in his constricting hold, tears flooding your eyes as fresh blood seeped through the towel. Flowing freely from your palm down your wrist, it came in contact with Motobe’s hand and started to snake its way down his own arm, deep red trails cutting harsh lines across his unmarred flesh.

“Otherwise you wouldn’t be so cruel, so ungrateful, right? Not after all I’ve done. Not after all I continue to do for you.”

He removed the sopping cloth from your hand, discarding it with a wet slap as he threw it in the sink. He lowered his head to your palm as if he were inspecting your wound, planning how he would proceed in patching you up. His eyes flicked to yours briefly, a dangerous gleam flashing through them that caused a chill to course through you, disturbing you so deeply it froze you to your core.

His lips hovered over your damaged flesh, puffs of his breath causing discomfort when they hit your weeping cut. Gradually he lowered himself until his lips collided with your wound, a searing kiss pressed roughly against your mutilated skin. A pained whine squeaked from your throat, your body jolting in surprise upon contact. You felt violated, more so than you ever had, unimaginable pain driving you to the brink as he planted kiss after kiss upon your hand. Each smack of his lips was a new torture, your hand burning violently under his ministrations, coaxing cries of agony from your gut so vile they sounded nearly inhuman.

Your response did not deter him- instead he fed off of it. Pressing harder, drawing each kiss out as long as he could, letting his lips deliberately linger on your aching flesh, sparking wave after wave of misery the longer and deeper he dug in. You shuddered as you felt his tongue join in your torment, squirming past his fleshy lips to lap at the steady stream of blood gushing against his mouth.

After several endless moments he finally lifted his head, looking up at you with the same lovestruck, doe-eyed expression he reserved solely for you.

“A kiss to make you feel better, darlin’.”

You felt bile rise in your throat as you stared at him in horror, his lopsided grin tinged crimson with your fresh blood.  The bright, violent red that coated his mouth and dribbled down his chin gave him a feral edge. It looked like he had tried to devour you, tear you apart until there was nothing left but your flesh digesting in the pit of his belly-the wolf consuming the lamb.

“But please try and be more mindful in the future,” his tongue swept across his lips, your essence now staining his tongue as his droopy eyes leered at you, “You shouldn’t say things you don’t mean, sweetheart.”

[gxldencity]

said this on bsky but I'm a solrook truther because veilguard did fail to give me the haters as soulmates vibes that I wanted the inquisitor and solas to have if the inquisitor vowed to stop him. "The Inquisitor and Solas's stories are directly entwined even if you didn't romance him." that's neat. Hey why does it feel like you can erase the inquisitor from this narrative and nothing really changes?