#I know the struggle of having a cruel parent teach you to be cruel

[roboticchibitan]

Once again thinking about the ATLA post series (not in continuity with the comics) fanfic I'll never write that follows Azula going to work in Iroh's tea shop in Ba Sing Se and her ensuing struggle with psychosis and realizing she was in the wrong and is just as much the victim of an abusive parent as Zuko was.

In this story Iroh tries to help her and at first she HATES it. She hates his kindness, she hates the sadness on his face when he sees her struggling, she hates all of it. At one point she snaps at Iroh to stop pitying her and he says, "Don't you know the difference between compassion and pity?" And she snaps back that they're the same thing and he replies, "You're wrong, Azula. Pity is simply feeling sad for someone's circumstances. Compassion is the desire for their circumstances to get better." And it hits her like a ton of bricks that this man, unlike her father, wants what's best for her. He's only ever treated her with kindness and she's disrespected him and called him weak for it and it's the most actual love she's ever received from a father figure in her fifteen years of life. And she wants nothing more than to cry in his arms but she can't yet because she doesn't know how to show weakness in front of anyone because of what her father did to her.

I see a post floating around sometimes where someone said that as a child, Azula is the scariest character, but as an adult, she's the saddest and I agree. She was 15. She deserves a redemption arc.

[hor3nee]

• Fatherhood •

What kind of dads are the JJK men ?

CW/TW: GN! Reader, Mentions of crappy parenting, BREIF mention of pregnancy in Geto's, (Lmk if I should add anything else!)

Characters: Gojo, Geto, Nanami, Sukuna, Toji x Reader

AN: Almost cried writing this the baby fever is going HARD rn dude. Headcanons !

• Gojo •

Menace of a father, but in the good way! Gojo spends his years raising his kids as if he's their best friend, truly and genuinely treats his kids as equals and in a sweet way, allows his children to have complete trust in him. Because Gojo is quite childish himself, he loves playing with his kids, making a fool of himself, and indulging with them.

Has a bit of a bad side to this though, his lack of traditional discipline or making himself the 'adult' in the situation leads the kids to both be very spoiled and not really ever listen to him.

"Sweetheart, darling, my perfect angel, can you please go to bed?? pretty please! Help your old man here, please??"

"Nuh uh!" And with that bout of defiance, he's back to running up to you, like HE'S the child, begging for your help. Because it seems you're the only one who can get the kids in line, and you do.

Plays pranks and teases the hell out of his kids as they get older, always in a loving way of course, but nonetheless loves getting them flustered over his stupidity. Type of dad to do dumbass dances in the middle of a Walmart to embarrass his kids.

• Geto •

Geto is optimum of what it means to be a gentle parent. Cannot, for the life of him, bring it in himself to yell at his kids. He's so soft-spoken, never so much as raising his voice against his children. Geto has children who respond to his voice alone, because it's so lulling, he's familiarized them with it and made them feel safe with it.

Doesn't mean he can't discipline them, of course he can, and he does so extremely gracefully. Whenever you're on your last straw with the kids, fighting the urge to start scolding them and yell, he steps in, smoothly taking over and the kids instantly listen to him.

"We're your parents, honey, c'mon that's not very nice to say, is it? They carried you for 9 months you know. Say sorry." Like magic the kids shut up and come over to you apologizing while Geto stands back, calmly having fixed the situation with ease.

With everything Geto does, has done, experienced etc, he can sometimes feel conflicted. Geto knows what he is capable of, and what he has done, he's extremely self-aware even if he justifies it, and he can struggle to balance the weight of all of it while also remaining a dutiful father.

Despite it, he does wonders keeping it separate from what his children have to see or experience, teaches them respect and kindness and hopes they hold true to it.

• Nanami •

Not a single man on this list fathers as hard as Nanami fathers. He's built for it like no other. Nanami treats fatherhood with his all, he puts his all into it and makes damn certain he does right by it. Stern when necessary, sweet when needed, provides for his kids and refuses to miss any important milestone of theirs.

Nanami is a calm man but the second work starts piling potentially making him miss his kids school play or something he's arguing with his supervisors and ready to throw hands.

He keeps the drawings his kids make on his desk, alongside a photo of you and your kids. Literally just stares at it while working smiling, unable to wait till he's home with the kids. They are his pride and joy genuinely.

No matter how over-worked Nanami may be though, when he comes home you are basically on vacation. Insists you rest and he takes over literally everything involving the kids.

"Darling, darling no, I got this covered. You take rest. You know I love spending time with my kids." He says with an earnest smile, both kids in his beefy arms just dangling around and playing with their father. He's definitely exhausted from work, but that never stops him.

• Sukuna •

The King of the Curses, as cruel and terrifying as he is, taking pleasure in all sorts of sickness and treating love as pointless, legitimately likes his kid.

He doesn't care about fatherhood, or the responsibilities that being a parent entails, but it's nice having a mini version of himself around. That he likes. An extension of himself and you, it's nice to have around he doesn't mind it. He may act aloof about it, not outwardly showing affection like hugs or kisses, but he clearly enjoys it.

He gets a massive ego trip when his kids cause chaos and disturbances. Points at them laughing with his belly "See that? That's mine."

Sukuna never minces his words though, and his kids have to get used to his bluntness. Again, he doesn't care for the concept of 'parenting', and will in their face call the kid some extreme insults and weak and they have to learn to take it.

On the flip side, Sukuna also never minces his praise, and Sukuna has an abundance to give his kids. Every accomplishment or show of strength that they show he'll let them know he's proud. A good ol' fashioned fatherly slap to their shoulder while he praises them.

He treasures his children, and even if he doesn't put much effort into parenting them, you taking over most of it, he's definitely a present figure in their lives.

• Toji •

Went to get milk, hasn't been seen since.

[wilwheaton]

What the actual fuck, Larry David.

So I heard about it, but didn't watch it until now. Holy shit it's even worse than I thought. What the fuck is wrong with that guy? Elmo is, like, the best friend to multiple generations of children, and is currently putting mental health and caring for others in the spotlight.

And Larry Fucking David ... did ... that? And thought it was going to be ... funny?

What an asshole. What a stupid, self-centered, tone deaf asshole.

Hey, fucko: First of all, you aren't even in the segment, but you just decided to barge in and draw focus because ... why? You couldn't stand that a puppet brought people together in a meaningful way that you can't? You couldn't stand that your appearance on national television to promote your wildly successful series was delayed for a few seconds while the adults talked about mental health?

I really want to know what raced through his tiny little mind, and why there was no voice or person who spoke up to stop him.

You know who is watching the Today show with their parents? Kids who also watch Sesame Street. Elmo is an avatar for children all over the world. Children who are too small to understand Elmo is a puppet will know that a man attacked him for no reason, and that will frighten them.

Elmo inspired a deeply meaningful and important moment of collective support among disparate people who have been struggling through the traumas of a pandemic, daily mass shootings, the rise of fascism and everything associated with Trump's violence and cruelty.

And shitty idiot Larry David couldn't stand it, for some reason. He had to indirectly tell everyone who opened their hearts to a Muppet that they were stupid, and he thought it was a good joke to physically attack and choke this character who is beloved by children and adults alike.

I've been bored by and totally over Larry David's brand of being an asshole to everyone because they had the temerity to exist around him since the day it started. It was easy to just ignore him. But this thing he did was hurtful, it wasn't funny, and his bullshit non-apology tells all of us everything we need to know about him.

Larry David strikes me as a person who mocks and belittles people who are vulnerable and sensitive, who is cruel because he enjoys it and is untouchable. Maybe I'm wrong, but that's who I see whenever I can't find the remote and he's on my television.

By contrast, Elmo and the Muppets teach and model that kindness and empathy aren't weak or stupid or any of the things people like Larry David and my dad think they are. Elmo and the Muppets teach children to be gentle and kind, to celebrate our different cultures and to embrace all of our complicated feelings.

I hope that, when the dust settles, Larry David's appalling behavior will be a footnote to a larger story about how, for just one day, a Muppet made a difference by helping all of us who are struggling feel just a little less alone and anxious.

A man who would belittle and mock that isn't much of a man at all.

[tarjapearce]

can we get something about reader having a kid before she met Miguel. her ex was treating her poorly while she was pregnant and after she gave birth, having her to clean the house and take care of their newborn cause the ex was too lazy and verbally abusive? After knowing Miguel for awhile, reader becomes preggo and she’s super scared that she’ll be neglected, but Miguel’s with her the whole time. or a happy ending of your choice🫣

Yee ✨

Parallels and Opposites

Landlord! Miguel O'Hara x Reader

WARNINGS: MINORS DO NOT INTERACT. Verbal abuse, manipulation toxic relationships dynamics, controlling behavior, gaslight, mild graphic depictions of domestic violence, hurt, struggles, fluff towards the end. No proofread.

Summary: Miguel shows you what true love and family means.

If someone asked you, what would be your biggest regret, a simple name would come to mind. Samuel 'Sam' Lawson.

The man that with his sweet words and lies had stolen you out of the comfortableness and stability of your home. A man that had seduced you right after you finished college and spoke about how you'd be his perfect little housewife.

Someone that played a perfect house angel role and had convinced your parents to live with him a couple of days after the graduation ceremony. Someone that without a doubt, would've teached Judas his own lying game since it proved effective on you and everyone around you.

Samuel was loving, always filling you with gifts and smiles, always making sure you knew his heart was yours, and always making sure you wouldn't have to worry for things such as money. You were happy.

So happy that ignored the micro-aggressions that hid between the loving noise. Beyond happy that you grown used to his presence, even when he didn't need to be there and ignored your few friend's warnings of his controlling and possessive behavior.

They were just jealous that they didn't have someone like him. Right?

It was normal for your loved one to pull you apart from those friendships that deemed toxic, right?

"They're always criticizing us, babe. They're just jealous I take care of you the way they wished their simpleton partners would. You don't need people like that in our lives."

And little by little your friend's circle decreased considerably, but Sam was always there. Ever loving and supporting. Even when in his outbursts he always made sure to say it was all for your good, because he loved you. That everything he did was for you, like it's always been.

He loved you so damn much that it hurt and his relief was beer, staying outside home until late, or fucking you till your body begged for a break.

Life was generous and good, so good you had gotten pregnant. Sam was ecstatic. You finally were carrying his child. And it was enough to make you his fiancé.

"We ain't married yet, but til death do us apart, honey." He'd say, peppering your face in kisses.

There was nothing to fear. All those seedlings of doubts your friends had put, were sapped away, He loved you.

Until he found out you were having a baby girl.

His loving and protective facade begun slowly chipping away.

The beer's stench stuck on his body and breath most of the times Sam was awake. His bad mood was always rampant, making every little thing an inconvenience that didn't help your crumbling relationship.

A few dishes rested comfortably on the sink? He'd scream and to calm him down, you'd rush to clean it all up. His snacks crumbs were in his favorite seat? God forbid to Sam see them cause it was another round of cruel jokes.

"Maybe if you weren't that fat to clean, this place wouldn't look this bad."

It was his bad humor. You thought at first. You knew he had a bad temper, but you were too busy falling inlove to actually notice it seeping through the cracks. You were too busy loving him that ignored the liquid anger pooling at your feet. Slowly filling the four walls you inhabited.

He'll change.

You clung to that thought alone, hoping that this phase was only temporary. That he'd go back to the same man you met. The same mn that got you breakfast in bed and took you to dance the many times you wanted.

Not this man that hurt your mind with whatever nonsense about your body he thought and his mouth spilled. Or hit the walls, instead of hitting you because he loved you.

He loves me.

"Where's my fucking dinner?"

He's just having a bad time with the medical expenses. That's all.

"You fucking stay here all day long doing shit, instead of keeping it all together while I work my ass off to get your fatass whims."

"I clean and cook, Sam." your mouth mumbled and it was enough for him to be invading your space, his taller frame cornering you against the shiny counter you always cleaned up.

"The fuck did you say?"

You gulped. The words replaying in your mind but unable to come out of your mouth. He seemed pleased on the smell of your fear.

"Wouldn't it the least you could do to your hard working husband, hmm?"

You didn't want to admit that these sudden hot and cold games confused you to no end. But they fed your hope of bringing him back.

"I'm sorry." You hushed and he caressed your chin a bit roughly, making you look at him.

"I know. I know pregnancy is hard on you, but your babygirl is not an excuse to not tend your husband's need, honey. You gotta do better. For me."

You nodded while he kissed your forehead and you got away to serve him his dinner.

"We can't have any more mishaps, can we?"

"I'll do it better, ok?"

He squeezed you against him, satisfied you'd acknowledged your mistakes.

"Good girl."

-----

As the pregnancy went on, so did Sam's moods wings. One minute he had all the hots for you, and when he was done, having his fun, he'd go back to his cold and rude self.

Any little mistake on your end was the perfect excuse for him to throw his harbored venom your way. If he didn't attack the apparent laziness, he'd go for how weak and pathetic you were only cause the baby.

And the more he pressed, the more you got tired of only nodding with a head down. And when you talked back, he only laughed and blamed your hormones for being such a drama queen.

You amused him, and your fight response even better. Yelling became the new thing in the Lawson's home. And each made sure to have a proper turn.

Until little Lily was born.

Things grew obnoxiously quiet for Sam as you were too focused on Lily to indulge his outbursts.

At least he was gentleman enough to keep it quiet, for a bit. But Sam needed that hatred, that yelling and anger to fuel him. So he found a new way to make sure you engaged into his baiting.

He'd make noise on purpose, waking you both and Lily, keeping you exhausted and at the verge of tears. You even begged him once to let you sleep, you couldn't allow another accident due to you being beyond tired.

The bag under your eyes were heavier, weight fluctuated, but even so, Lily remained your priority. And that pissed him to no end.

That in and out continued, stretching for a long long time, everyone around you kept warming you, but you always managed to spin the conversation around. Tired was always something that described you. Your parents grew concerned and the few friends that remained on your side only supported you and Lily

Sam always had an excuse to skip family reunions. But everyone knew that it was a matter of time things to go sour.

And when your final wake up call arrived, it was like a blindfold had been removed from you.

It wasn't the argue this time, neither the beat down he awaited for so long to deliver you, despite your protest and pleas for him to stop hitting you, but the fact Sam was targeting Lily as the new victim of his rage out of control. Only cause you refused sex to him.

Because of her, you never wanted to fuck with him like the old times, you were never in the mood for anything since she arrived. Would it all be better if she was gone?

Definitely.

His mind reasoned.

But before any more tragedies could happen in the day, the vase he always complained about silenced him as it crashed on his nape, knocking him out.

And it was enough time for you to pack up whatever thing you felt necessary, grabbed your two year old crying toddler, and ran away. Ran into the freedom of the night away from Sam's suffocating claws.

No bruise or pain in your body mattered. No scream or insult engraved in your brain by his commanding and absolute voice did. Sam didn't matter anymore.

"We'll be fine, sweetheart." A reassure to you and your toddler.

----

After sojourning through different shelters and housing programs and financial aids, you finally managed to land a proper job that eventually managed you to afford a car. As long as it was functional, in good conditions, and safe wise for Lily, you couldn't care less about the model.

Your baby was three now, and finally you had managed to get a lease in a place in the middle of Nueva York's city. Perfect to reach Lily's school and your work. Life was making sure to reward your suffering with a fresh start.

The new landlord, however was everything you expected a landlord to be. Quiet, reserved, perpetually busy, grumpy at times but surprisingly, gentle and careful with the kids in the building.

Thanks to Lily, and her need of running away in random moments for you to play with her, you had ran into his apartment, your baby giggled as she stumbled upon a curious and surprised looking Miguel in the doorway.

"My goodness, I'm so sorry! Lily, darling come! This is not playtime."

Miguel chuckled softly as your daughter hid behind him.

"I think your mother is right, princesita. Go to her."

"But she is no fun!" Lily pouted, "And she's always busy and tired to play with me."

Your cheeks flustered and your eyes blinked, truly not expecting for her to vent your personal occurrences, but also hurting for the tinge of disappointment in her voice.

Miguel picked her up, and your heart leaped nervously, ready to take the harsh and judging words for not being able to properly take care of your child, like everyone.

But they never came.

"I know it must be frustrating for you to not having mommy to play with you, corazón, but running into places like that is wrong. And quite dangerous. Something could happen to you, and mommy would be extremely sad and upset."

Lily nodded apologizing, as he delivered her back to you.

"I'm so sorry, Mr. O'Hara. It won't happen again."

"Don't worry about it. They're children."

"Say sorry to Mr. O'Hara for running without his permission into his home."

Your baby girl apologized, and after him reassuring it was fine, that she only needed to be careful, you returned to your apartment.

Miguel O'Hara or Mr. O'Hara for the other tenants, seemed a regular man, always up to something in the building and making sure everyone lived in perfect conditions. A place that most in the neighborhood wanted to live in.

Not only because of him and his gorgeous looks, but the actual quality of life the building had, despite being an old one.

If the sink was dripping, he made sure to see it as soon as possible. You found out that plumbing, wall repairing and other appliances were in his repertoire of knowledge, he was a multitasking man, that always waved your little girl of they met in the hall, no matter how busy he was.

The 'Hi, Mr. O'Hara!' echoed every morning through the halls along his 'Good morning, princesita.' and every evening when you returned from work and picking up Lily.

But besides your toddler interacting with him, there wasn't much reason for you to approach him. Matters of the heart were too recent and fragile to approach. Your heart had so much to do to glue back the pieces Samuel had made sure to break.

And he was always busy. Always with his head into something. Life however had these little moments that conceded you a hint of what ifs and what not.

Like Miguel helping you with the grocery bags that gave you trouble, Him making sure everything in your apartment worked properly, fixing a tire from your car and sharing a bit of his food, something that Lily rambled once to him. She told him about you praising the smell of his food from across the hall, and next thing you know, is him delivering a bowl of freshly made Tinga in your hands.

"Made a bit too much of it." He mumbled with a coy smile after greeting Lily with a smile.

He was good with the other kids, but with Lily he interacted the most. The other kids just greeted him and kept it to themselves.

Food sharing however, was only the start of something neither were aware of it brewing.

It all started with you, retrieving the favor with some baked goods, a flan. Something your daughter saw him eating a couple of times along a pack of coffee. He was always smelling like that fancy colombian package with extra roast. And a little Thank you note.

He replied with an envelope full of coupons from the supemarket on things you'd need, along a 'Saw these in my mail, I think they're more useful to you."

Cause in truth, what other concerns a single and childless man like him could have?

He realized you were a single mom cause of Lily. He noticed how she never mentioned her dad.

"Mommy doesn't like talking about him."

The girl said and it was enough for him to understand.

A couple of days later, you'd have him in the kitchen sink, looking through the pipes of the dishwasher. As it refused to work.

Miguel was patient, and explained what was wrong and pulled out a couple of toys in pieces that obstructed the blades.

Your cheeks were burning from the embarrassment, but he wasn't mad. He wasn't angry at your toddler for behaving like a child. Unlike Sam, that yelled whenever Lily cried.

"Don't you worry about it. It happens way too often than you think."

"Still, sorry, There's times when I just wanna come home and crash on bed. Work is a bit stressful and I just wanna do my best for her."

"Hey, relax." His hand caressed your arm gently, a brief yet soothing gesture that had your heart running leaps in your chest, "She's lucky to have you as a mom."

"You think? I felt terrible when she said I didn't have any time to play with her."

"She's too young to understand all what you must do for her, preciosa. Don't rack your brain about it."

"Thank you, Miguel." His words had been like a balm to your aching soul. None had actually had the decency to acknowledge everything you did for your kid, as they were all too busy judging. But not Miguel.

He cleared his throat and rubbed his neck nervously.

"I... I was wondering if you wanted to come to my place and have some dinner?"

"Oh?"

He gulped on your surprise, "It's alright if you don't. I think... fuck. I think that was too soon." He swallowed again, tensing.

You chuckled, "It's alright. I'll bring the dessert. And Lily if that's okay."

"It's perfect" He breathed, relieved, "She needs to keep me updated in this story on the beetle she saw in her classroom."

You laughed and his heart shuddered at the sound.

"Seems we both need an update on it."

----

"And it flew! It was buzzing and then landed on a flower outside."

"No way! Look at that, you fought the beetle! "

"Mommy says they help the flowers to grow. But everyone was scared and I fought it off!"

"Good job, princesa." Miguel chuckled as he served Lily her plate of food while you cut the flan in pieces.

The not so-date was fun and offered you a new perspective on eachother. And so the many others you had.

But life had been in a weird mood that pressed enough just to remind you, the dangers out there.

You had just came from a true date with Miguel as Lily was with her grandma. You really never lost contact with your parents, and when you grew quiet, they were concerned. But now that everything was going as smoothly as it could, the weekend visits were a must to make up for all the missing time.

You took the elevator first, to change into something more, sultry to match the night overall's mood. The soft caresses and lingering looks between Miguel and you were undeniable. And rightfully so, he had earned that spot into your heart, and what a better way to reward him with something you both died for to enjoy?

As you grabbed your keys and opened the door, a rough calloused hand grabbed you by your hair.

"Well, well.. Long time no see honey."

He pushed you in, but you budged, moving away from him yet his firm grip tightened.

"Let me go!"

Samuel had found you, after years of looking on his own. His beer breath wasn't news, yet the stench of it all made you retch and move away.

He slammed you against the wall and hovered over your trembling form.

"Where's Lily?!" he grabbed you by the collar of your dress and you spat his face.

"Fuck you!" A punch landed on your cheekbone, sending you to the floor, stunned.

"Do you know how long it took me to find you?! Where the fuck is my daughter!?"

He sat on your hips to ground you as his fist hovered over your face. No harm came however.

Strong and tanned hands pulled the paler guy away from you, like a ragdoll, growling as Miguel squashed him against the floor.

Samuel was no match for him, but the last thing you needed was more violence. Despite the anger consuming him, Miguel tossed Samuel off the stairs, earning him a pained groan from the man.

Your ex laid on the floor, unable to get up as Miguel dialed the police. Within matters of minutes, Samuel had been taken care of and took away.

You on the other hand, cried in Miguel's arms. Shaking and sobbing as the landlord himself tended your wounds, apprehension in his face.

How dared that man to touch you?, How dared that man to even think about hurting his own child? He was thankful Lily wasn't around, or Migue truly didn't know what he would be capable of.

You had explained everything to him. How it all started with Samuel, how everything changed and how you had to escape him in order to save Lily from a certain death.

To your little surprise, Sam had been escaping the law for a few years now. But that chapter in your life was now closed and tossed forever to a vault underground and threw the key somewhere you couldn't care less at the moment, nor later or ever.

"You're safe now, corazón." He cradled you against his chest, promising not a single harm would come to you now.

----

The two parallel lines in the pregnancy test finally showed up, announcing the start of a new life within you.

Moving in with Miguel in his apartment, was only one of the many perks that came in hand when dating him.

Your heart finally had the chance of opening and receive and give all that love you always dreamed of receiving again.

Miguel didn't lie, Miguel didn't treat you good because he wanted something out of you, he praised you whenever your efforts came to fruition, and was always pampering Lily, to the point of her calling him by accident dad a couple of times.

But he liked it. He loved the sound of that title in your daughter's life. Miguel was everything that was good in this world. Sure, he had a temper, but never lashed out on you or Lily. He never yelled or screamed, or bait you into a fighting game.

And it terrified you at first. You were so used to chaos that anything like calm and conflict resolution was something you had to learn if you wanted him to be at your side.

Therapy always worked and it helped you to improve all those pestering thoughts Samuel had planted on your mind.

Miguel had taken his sweet time into proving that you no longer had to fear for your life and Lily's. That you no longer had to scream to have your voice listened or that you had to fight in order to have something done.

You didn't have to be on survival and flight or fight mode.

And when you delivered the news to him? He showered your face in affection, praised you for making him the happiest man ever. Even thanked you for making one of his dreams come true.

-----

And when you found out another girl was on the way, you braced for impact.

At first, a deep part you thought that Miguel would act exactly like Samuel, and as much as it hurt you to think that way, some pains never truly left. They just remained dormant and buried away.

But again, nothing but love came your way. Miguel rambled to no end about the baby's room color, how Lily would be an amazing big sister and how she was also thrilled to have a sister.

He was excited. Not yelling. Miguel complimented your body changes and kissed your baby bump in every chance he had, not calling you a lazy fat ass.

He'd cook for you and even going to the extent of visiting the convenience store at wee hours of the night to have your cravings met, not telling you to shut the fuck up an let him sleep.

Miguel didn't allow you to stand too much time once your last trimester hit. He took charge of your home and kept it clean and comfortable for you, not insulting, yelling and accusing you for being exhausted and putting up excuses to have the house clean and his dinner ready.

Miguel was gentle and always praised you. He spent those times when you needed him buried into you, worshipping your body with such care and love before, during and after he was done pleasing you, not fucking the daylights out of you and leaving you to clean after yourself the mess he created, not caring at all if you were sore.

The sole idea of hitting you, terrified him, he confessed once, not amused him. Miguel didn't get off by taunting you with slurs like Sam did. He didn't had fun into competing for who screamed more before your voices gave out, like Sam did.

He accompanied you to every single doctor appointment and even bought you vitamins and supplements, not complained all the way home on how expensive everything was and how much you owed him for the appointment and medicines. If he bought you any.

Thank heavens Lily came perfectly healthy thanks to the vitamins your parents gave you.

And he definitely didn't hit you, dehumanized you and treated you poorly, like Samuel did.

You felt ashamed for even daring to do such comparison, but it was unavoidable. Not when everything you had know was chaos and this man offered you a complete opposite spectrum of a love you always dreamed off.

And when Gabriella was born, yours and his dream was finally complete. You got true and untampered love, and he got a family on his own, ready to show you the true meaning of such word.

[dark-and-kawaii]

༺ 𝒫𝓇𝑜𝒻𝑒𝓈𝓈𝑜𝓇’𝓈 𝒫𝑒𝓉 ༻

Au Professor Raphael

Summary: Your grade depends on your willingness. Professor Raphael misuses your body well, and you can’t help but to come undone under his touch. Does your grade even matter at this point?

Note: I saw this gif and went absolutely feral.

Age Gap - Professor/ Student relationship - Vaginal Penetration - Creampie - Handcuffs - Slight Voyeurism - Tav is 18

You told him you’d do anything to raise your grade, begged him not to flunk you because your parents would be so disappointed in you… Now, as you bounce up and down on your professor's lap in his car you wonder how they’d feel if they found out about this instead…

The thought of being caught has your tight young cunt gripping his cock like a vice. Your hands struggling to find their way into his lucious brown hair, but the cuffs he placed on your wrists bind them behind your back. You feel his lips kiss down your neck, nibbling softly against your skin, his glasses grazing you just as well and the sensation nearly makes you cum right there. His cock feels like it was made for you, each ridge and vein caresses your walls and drives you crazy.

“Professor!”

Raphael, your professor, loved to fill you up before school started, loved knowing your young cunt was carrying his seed throughout the day. He knew you’d struggle to keep it all inside you, your skirt doing little to conceal it if it were to find its way dribbling out of you.

The windows in his car fogged, “S’good! M-more!”, your ass jiggled each time it slapped his thighs. Raphael grabbed onto your waist and started moving you even faster.

You felt him grow and swell inside of you, knowing he was getting close to his limit. He was going to make you take it, was going to fill you with more than enough for your womb.

“Let’s hope that your little birth control pill is still working,” he chuckled darkly, “what a shame it would be to find yourself carrying your professor's bastard child.”

Your eyes widened, the thought hadn't occurred to you. You weren't even sure the pill would do much after how many times he’s cum in you this week already. You started to slow your hips, unsure of what to do. Did it even matter at this point?

Raphael tightened his grip on you, forcing your movements to stay steady, his own hips thrusting up into you at an unrelenting pace.

Your thoughts trailed off, biting your lip at the thought about just the other day…

He kept a nice little bullet attached to your clit, waiting for you to enter his class before he could start his little game. A game, that’s all this was to him…

Raphael would wait for the room to settle down, wait for him to turn his back on his class so he could write on his board, book in hand concealing the little remote in his hand. When the moment was right, your cruel professor would switch the bullet on medium speed. You’d never see the devilish smirk that danced across his face as you squealed in your seat, your body jolting up as you tried to contain yourself.

“Quiet now, it’s rude to disturb the class while I’m trying to teach.” Your cheeks burned as you fought the urge to squirm and grind against the chair. Raphael would look at you every few moments, making sure you were obeying his rules. You could barely focus as the pleasure built up inside you. Raising your hand, you’d ask to excuse yourself, but of course he’d never agree to it, “you’ll have to wait until after class.”

You wanted to scream at him, but the fear of failing his class kept you from speaking out, not only that but the other student’s that were watching. So you sat there, legs clenched together and toes curling into your shoes as you fought to control the sensations that would wrack your body.

With your head laying on the desk, your legs shaking, he’d turn it off, “See me after class Tav, your behavior has been unacceptable.” He’d tell you to see him after class, that he needs to discuss your poor behavior in class, that you distracted far too many other students.

When your professor, Raphael, asked you to stay after class, you knew you'd end up splayed out on his wooden desk, hands clenching the edges to hold on.

"I do remember you saying you’d be willing to do anything to raise your grade up, right?" his fingers trailing over your ass that peeked from your short skirt, “so start being an obedient little pup.” ~Whack, Raphael would smack your ass hard enough to leave his mark.

He’d flip up your skirt to reveal the full extent of your pink lace panties, before he slowly pulls them down to pool at your feet. His fingers teasing your core and you twitch in response. You’d whine, embarrassed that you’ve allowed this to happen with your own professor, but even more embarrassed that you’d look forward to him sliding his much older cock inside you.

"How about we change that test score of yours from the other day into an A, princess." he said as his finger found your clit, slowly rubbing circles over the sensitive bud.

“P-please, I need to pass.”

He’d remove his finger, and you always felt a bit disappointed, but his fingers always found their way to your mouth, “Open.”

Your eyes flicker to his, questioning his intentions, but the look he’d give you told you not to ask questions. His thick digits slid into your mouth, pushing the salty taste of your cunt against your tongue. The sound of his belt unclasping and his draws falling to the ground as he positioned himself behind you.

"Now let's see how much you want that A." he would say before he slams his cock deep inside your wet folds.

The feeling of your walls stretching and clenching around his girth was something you still weren't quite used to, but the feeling had your eyes rolling. You’d push back into him, words of encouragement slipping from your mouth, “please use me! Fill me! Do whatever you want to me, Raphael!”

He was older, probably not one that should be fucking such a young thing like yourself, but here you were. His thrusts would be slow and deep, filling you in the way you always needed. He was unlike the other guys you’ve been with. He knew how your body worked.

"You're such a good girl, taking my cock so well. Maybe I should keep you on the edge of failing until the school year ends.” He’d grip your chin and forced your head to the side so he could lock his lips with yours, his tongue demanding entrance.

His free hand traveled between your legs, finding the little toy that rested against your swollen clit.

"Don't you dare cum yet." He told you before pressing the button, forcing the vibrations to start up again.

You were in a state of pure bliss. You knew that you shouldn't be here, that you should’ve studied like any other student, but all you could think about was how much you needed your professor to ruin your cunt now. That this was the only way to pass.

"Such a needy little thing aren't you." he would tease.

"Please!" you'd beg, "please, I need it. I can't fail this class, Raphael."

He'd groan, his pace increasing.

"Please Professor, I need it."

He loved to hear you call him professor. It was so taboo, and the thrill of fucking a student was a fantasy he was happy to make come true.

"Oh god." you'd cry out as the orgasm built inside you.

"Don't."

His hand wrapped around your throat and squeezed.

"Cum."

His hand squeezed tighter, your eyes widening.

"Not."

The sound of the door opening, and a female student entering would have both of your heads snap in her direction.

"Until."

You'd try to close your legs, your face burning, but his cock never left your heat.

"I."

You were so ashamed.

"Give."

But he never stopped pounding into you.

"You."

He was determined to finish, and that was it.

"The."

The other student looked just as embarrassed as you.

"Authorization."

The door closed and you heard a little laugh, “what a slut!”

What a perfect time, Raphael told you, “Cum for me, my good little pup.”

Your eyes closed, and you'd bite your lip, moaning at his command. His cock hit that special spot, his fingers rubbing your clit to completion.

"Yes! Oh God, I'm cumming!"

"Good." he'd hiss, his seed painting your walls, a sight he wished he could see.

When the two of you finished, he cleaned the mess he made and help you get dressed, his lips brushing over yours as he whispered, "see you in class, tomorrow- on second thought, come early. I’d like you to meet me by my car."

Which is exactly what you did…

[yanderes-galore]

Fandom: Souls-Like Game

Character: Scrapped Watchman “Murphy” (Lies of P)

Pairing: Platonic

Type of Fic: Scenario

Plot Idea (or go off the rails if the idea isn't up to par ^^""): Human! Survivor! Darling was a teacher before the puppets of Krat went rogue and was a parental figure to many children before they were infected by the plague or murdered by rogue puppets. Darling was able to save one child and is fighting tooth and nail to not only escape but protect this one child.

Thank you for hearing me out. :)

I'm still incredibly new to Lies of P. However, Scrapped Watchman is like the third boss... so I don't need to know all the lore to write yet. I will continue watching cutscenes and lore videos though :) It looks so cool and the STORY is fantastic too!

Btw, if I got the whistle thing wrong my bad. The lore made it sound like kids used the whistle to summon him so that's what I was basing it on-

Cold Dark Streets

Yandere! Platonic! Scrapped Watchman "Murphy" Story

Pairing: Platonic

Possible Trigger Warnings: Gender-Neutral Darling, Obsession, Stalking, Murder, Blood, Dark themes, Overprotective behavior, Kidnapping, Forced companionship.

You remember the days where things felt... simple. Before the city of Krat began to rot, before people died of plague or were torn by puppets in a frenzy... you were a teacher. A teacher who would teach the poor kids in the slums useful skills to survive.

You loved all the children who came to you for lessons. They were attached to you, you felt like a parent to them. Naturally... since they trusted you enough... you often heard childish rumors.

Such as nearly every kid in Krat obsessing over the mascot known affectionately as "Murphy".

You knew of such a puppet, the one condemned for being a hazard to kids due to its battery continuously discharging. There wasn't much you could do to stop the kids from seeing the mascot puppet. You simply told them to be careful... but were unfortunately not surprised when you hard of injuries involving the puppet....

Murphy... you forgot such a name ever since the city went downhill. All you ever focused on was surviving, avoiding malfunctioning puppets and preventing sickness the best you could. These streets... you remember them as being so lively...

Now they were just about as dead as many of the residents here.

When things began, many abandoned the children in the slums to fend for themselves. Many children had died as a result, the bloodbath staining the streets with many others. It was a cruel reminder that with one wrong move... you were as good as dead.

You were just happy to save one child.

The child you found was originally wounded on the street, a young boy, cowering before a malfunctioning puppet. You were quick to take a metal pipe from the ground and bash the head of the puppet in enough to take the boy with you. That was...

Do you even remember how long ago that was?

Ever since then you have become a surrogate parent for the young boy. Said boy only had the clothes on his back similar to you, far as you knew at least. You were quite protective of the boy when you took him in, said boy being around nine years old.

Protecting him made you remember your days as a teacher. The mere thought of him being attacked makes your grip around the metal pipe tighten. You may not have been able to save the rest...

But you'll save this one.

You are often on the move within Krat. It was a struggle to find sustainable food and survive frenzied puppets. So you often found yourself sneaking around areas.

City Hall was one such area. You had to cut through the area to look for supplies. Oddly enough... the boy by your side seemed oddly eager to be around here.

"We'll be safe here!" He chirps at you, causing you to look at him in confusion. Your hand was still tight around his smaller one as you quickly glance around.

"What makes you say that, my heart...?" You whisper, an uneasy feeling stirring in your gut.

"Murphy's here! He'd never hurt us!" He chimes, causing you to pause for a moment.

Murphy... you haven't heard such a name in forever. You vaguely recall the mascot the kids were so fixated on. Was... This kid also fond of the puppet?

That wasn't hard to believe....

You had no idea Murphy would even still be around. In fact, you were worried he would be. Murphy would never hurt children... but you...?

That... was another case entirely.

"... Were you close to Murphy?" You ask the boy beside you before he perks up, looking at you excitedly.

"Yeah! Me and my friends would blow whistles with Murphy all the time! It was so fun!" The young child rambles before going quiet, pulling a small item from his pocket. "We'd blow whistles... like this!"

You notice the young boy pull out and old police whistle. However, before you can stop him, he then put it to his mouth... blowing the small tool as it makes a shrill sound. You flinch a little at the sound, looking around.

You really should've stopped him... but the surrounding area was so quiet...

"Careful...!" You warn, looking around, "We can't alert any puppets... we need to go-"

Before you can make any attempt to leave, a whirring screech occurs along with the clicking of gears. You immediately look up, a large puppet sparking and crawling about the City Hall building. You don't waste time, grabbing the boy and running.

"Murphy...!" The boy cries, making your heart clench at his excitement. He didn't know how much danger you were really in... too young to understand.

You jump as suddenly the large bodied puppet smashes onto the ground as you run. The puppet looks like a hunchback police officer, peering red eyes scanning the area only to find you. A screech, one akin to a war cry, echoes as you try to flee from it.

The puppet is frenzied, running on all fours like a wild animal as it chases you. You try for the large door your entered through, yet the puppet quickly cuts you off. Warbled speech pierces through the air as the puppet stalks closer to you like a predator.

You then remember the whistle.

You quickly ask the boy for the whistle, the young kid giving you it quickly. He was beginning to feel scared at Murphy's frenzied state due to your panic. You waste no time blowing the whistle, the sound echoing through the area again.

The puppet... Murphy... pauses its hunt. The puppet closes his mouth, red eyes scanning you both over. Clicking gears go off as he tilts his head, sparking electricity occasionally spitting as it watches you.

The tension between you and the puppet is thick as the puppet studies you. He looks you over, noticing the child and the whistle. You hear Murphy's gears click and eyes blink as it takes in the information.

You jump when Murphy relents, crawling closer to greet you both with more warbled speech.

Your grip on the metal pipe is beyond tight now... yet you know a pipe won't do anything to Murphy. The whistle was certainly the best tool in this situation. In fact... Murphy now saw you as friend rather than foe.

While all other humans remain enemies to him.

"M-Murphy!" The young boy soon manages to say again once the puppet stops, Murphy's gaze quickly snapping back to him.

You watch hesitantly as the puppet appears to be friendly towards you and the young child you swore to protect. Perhaps he was right... with this whistle, Murphy saw you as friends. In fact...

Murphy himself was pleased to have friends again.

The old puppet originally had many friends. Many young children came to play with him near City Hall. Ever since the puppet frenzies began... Murphy was forced to watch his friends die.

But now, now that he's heard that whistle, Murphy was met with more friends. He was met with an old friend and you. Murphy couldn't help but listen as his old friend introduces you.

You had helped his friend...

Which meant you were also his friend.

The City Hall courtyard became a temporary spot for respite. While you were used to most puppets being hostile, Murphy just seemed affectionate if you were careful of his electrical arcs.

The puppet was quite aware of how dangerous he was with you.

You began to see Murphy as, well, a companion... but you couldn't stay forever. Staying in one place for too long could become problematic. Plus, you needed to find supplies to care for you and your... son.

Eventually you had to make it known to Murphy that you had to go...

But Murphy doesn't want his new friends to go.

When you try to make it known you need to provide for the child you took in, that you need to leave, Murphy screeches. The sound is once again that of a feral animal. You go to blow the whistle again, only for Murphy to ignore it.

He just found new friends...

You weren't going to leave him alone again, were you?

Before you know it, the puppet snatches you into his arms in a lightning fast grasp. You struggle in his hold, the boy tightly pressed to your body in a tight hold. Murphy ignores your scolding and the child's cries.

He was careful to not harm you with his battery as he begins to crawl the building of City Hall again. He doesn't understand why you'd want to leave. Did you really want to abandon him...?

Your reasoning does not matter to him... unlike other puppets, he can feel emotions.

His emotions tell him he doesn't wish to be alone again...

So he'll never be alone again... not if he keeps you both hidden away from everyone.

[tumblingxelian]

Chloe & Heroism

Chloe Bourgeois as a hero early on is a premise that often evokes either questions, like "How" and "Why". Or expectations that she is either already on a path to self improvement, or will be forced onto within a short timeframe.

These are not bad questions and the former definitely are necessary to consider for a story. However the expectations I tend to feel a bit murkier and while I have no issue with how some authors handle this topic.

I want to outline why I think you could do a good "Hero Chloe" story before she gets character development, but first, house cleaning!

1: I have not watched and largely ignore everything post season 3, so don't bother bringing up Derision. Remember, season 1 Kim was afraid of spiders.

2: In canon. Chloe only revealed her ID publicly because her abusive mother she is obsessed with pleasing (who killed her the day before) chose a girl other than her to take to New York & then tore her to shreds in front of everyone. 

With all that in mind let's examine where Chloe's values and understanding of the world comes from and how she perceives them! 

1 - Media/Social Media 

This would be a mixed bag, because on one hand they have Mighty Majesta comics that try to instill good values, but also shows built around lying to and humiliating people are evidently popular television and the internet seems similar in regards to pranking VS trying not to be terrible. So she's gonna get mixed signals at best. 

2 - Her family & Circle 

This is where 90% of the problems come from. Of the important adults in her life, her father, mother, Gabriel and Nathalie are all varying shades of corrupt, abusive, cruel and ruthless, while the lesser evils like Jean and Emilie are largely consigned to the role of enablers. 

Worse still, even if we ignore the emotional abuse, neglect and other elements that led to her both having trauma and her trauma response manifesting in aggression. We still have issues like Andre, during the brief periods he bothered to parent, explicitly teaching Chloe that, Stealing, extortion and threats are all appropriate ways to succeed in life.

IE, she isn't compromising her morality when she does these things, she is very much doing what she is taught was right at least consciously. This isn't helped by a 24/7 Audrey impression as Audrey deems being in her vicinity as reason enough to hurt people unless she deems them useful. 

Long story short, the values and people she was brought up around are all explicitly some shade of bad, or enabler, or outright teaching her to harm others. 

3 - Societies & Class 

However, we know from season 2 that Chloe is not entirely unaware that there are issues with this. Because while she spends much time boasting of how she's beloved and brilliant, when stripped of that and exposed to someone she trusts she is entirely willing to confess that she knows everyone hates her and that she feels she has no worth. She may not be able to articulate why or how this came about but she knows something is wrong. 

Despite this, school is not the best place to figure this out, especially for someone who obviously struggles with social cues and the like. The teachers run the gamut from indifferent and unpleasant, to extremely gentle and accommodating, to simply not wanting any form of drama and usually caving to whoever makes the most noise and none of them have the authority to do much outside of class hours. 

The class is not significantly better, because students like Kim and Alix can and do casually throw around snark or do pranks and at worst only get brief bursts of anger while Chloe's garner a more intense response. This is because her relationship with the class and motives are varying shades of different, but for someone with issues reading social cues, it's just going to seem like a confusing double standard. 

We can also see all this demonstrated in her relationship with Adrien, as Chloe clearly takes the lead in their relationship in Origins and outlines her logic behind the pranks, but is then surprised when Adrien seems to turn against her. What's more, it seems Chloe is aware that Adrien is more gentle/naive than her given she tried to educate him on these matters & turns to him for comfort and protection at times, while seeing no inherent contradiction between her expectations for their relationship and how she treats others.

Adrien does not help matters with seeming indifference to how she treats staff. 

Thus, while she knows 'something' is terribly wrong, actually being able to understand it and work through it is another matter. 

4 - Chloe's Conclusion 

So, what is the conclusion Chloe comes to in order to square all of these circles when she isn't just in full denial mode? The answer is quite simple and even demonstrated in the show itself, playing one's role. 

IE, Chloe the mayor and style queen's daughter is different to Chloe the hotel owner's daughter and we see this in her being able to stamp down on her usual instincts and slap on a customer service role when Jagged Stone enters the hotel and guide her father into doing the same. VS how she conducts herself during a class election, IE explicitly threatening and extorting people, to how she conducts herself day by day with her Audrey impersonation. 

A separate example and way she'd view this for others would be that Marinette the baker's daughter of course has to be nice and sweet and giving because that is how customer service roles work, while Marinette the aspiring fashion designer or would be class president is sneakier and will lay traps so people trying to steal from her are sabotaged. This isn't wrong, this is how she expects people to behave when in these circumstances and roles. 

Final Conclusion 

Which is why Chloe could easily play the role of a successful hero, because she would not be "Chloe Bourgeois, mayor's daughter, hotel heiress and Style Queen's daughter" as Queen Bee, she would just be Queen Bee, a superhero.

They have wonderfully defined roles that would be easy for her to pick up & follow through on: assure the public, save people from danger, protect allies, defeat monsters, all things Chloe was shown doing very well when chosen as a Miraculous Holder. 

I think that eventually the contrast in how she is received as Queen Bee VS Chloe Bourgeois would start grinding on each other and bleeding through both sides of the mask. 

But the infectious nature of empathy and a larger support network that don't have the worst impression of her would give Chloe the room she needs to explore and grow.

If she is too snippy as a hero, or shows a ruthless side, these won't be taken in the context of "Chloe that person I dislike" but "Queen Bee my ally" and can allow for more honest and even handed reactions that give her the necessary breathing room to grow and change. 

So yeah, I think season 1 Chloe could have, under the right circumstances, done a great job as a hero be it Queen Bee or another hero even before any outside circumstances or internal changes might have forced her to chart a new course in life.

Provided the role of Chloe and the role of hero do not intersect and become one almost immediately, because in that case it gets a lot harder for her. 

[lady-of-tearshed]

A promise

Eris Vanserra & Lucien Vanserra

Eris Vanserra week 2024

@erisweekofficial

Day 2 : Childhood

Summary: Eris, as usual, managed to get Lucien out of the house before one of their parents' fight got too explosive. Lucien had never questioned or doubted Eris sudden invitations to go out of the house, until now.

Warnings: angst, toxic household, mention of killing someone (Beron)

Word count: 641 words

Dividers made by @tsunami-of-tears 🤎

It was a particularly warm and sunny day in Autumn. The tenacious humidity had seemed to take its leave today, letting the sun embracing all Faes of this cruel court with comforting, and much needed, warmth.

“Ewis, bored!”

Eris growled, the sound far too similar to his oldest and grumpiness hound warning snarl, when tiny hands lifted his arm off of his eyes.

“Eris, Lu. Errrrris,” Eris exaggerated his mouth movement as he corrected Lucien's poor pronunciation for the hundredth time today, “Rrrrr,”

“Rrrrr! Rrrrr! Just like the sounds father makes when he's mad, right?”

The eldest Vanserra brows furrowed at Lucien's comparison. He might, or might not have, used that comparison to teach Lucien how to pronounce his “r"s… Eris hated how this little rascal had such a great memory.

“Don't repeat that in front of Father…”

Eris grumbled as he brought his arm back up to cover his eyes, determined to get some well needed uninterrupted rest. Well, as uninterrupted rest could be with a three years old brother wandering around you-

“Errrris!” Lucien was whining this time, the sound as unbearable as nails hissing on a chalkboard. Lucien's tiny hands were insistently tugging on the expensive fabric of his brother's black shirt sleeve. “I'm bored! Can we go home now?”

Eris sighed and sat up, the hound sleeping with one eye open beside him doing the same. The shadow hounds always followed their master’s every move, truly devoted beasts they were. Eris scratched the hound behind its ear appreciatively.

“Not now, Lu,”

“Because mother and father are still fighting?”

Eris’ hand halted on the dog's ear at Lucien's words. His hand curled into a fist.

“Why would you think that?”

“They always fight,” Lucien's small shoulders shrugged, his eyes darting away from Eris.

Eris' heart clenched. He hadn't wanted Lucien to see the atrocious toxicity of their household, not yet. He had wanted to prevent him from worrying about their parents fighting for at least a while longer.

But, just like when he had tried to protect his five other brothers' innocence, he had failed. Lucien was already dipped into the harsh truth of how brutal their father is.

Lucien broke the silence, getting Eris out of his dark thoughts and guilt momentarily. “That's not an okay way to treat a lady, right, Ewis?”

Eris shook his head, scooping Lucien’s warm cheeks with his palms. “No, Lucien. That is not an okay way to treat a lady,”

“Then why do you let him treat mom like that?”

Eris' throat tightened, his eyes felt suddenly more damp, but he kept his face hard. “I will,” He promised him solemnly, “One day, Lucien, I will stop him. I promise,”

He kissed Lucien's small forehead, sealing this promise in his heart, and held onto him tightly, knowing that from now on, everything would have to change. That he'd do anything to get closer to their father, so that he could fulfill his promise

To stop Beron, for good. To end him.

Even if it led Lucien, or anyone else in this world, to speak of Eris Vanserra as the villain in their stories.

“Okay,”

Eris' answer had been enough for Lucien, his young mind struggling to process Eris’ emotions. So he just wrapped his arms around his older brother’ neck, holding his face close to his heart, just like his mama did when he was having big emotions.

And Eris shed a tear, for the first time in the first century of his pathetic life, he allowed himself to cry. Silently, the tears rolled down Eris’ cheeks, out of Lucien’s sight. He kept his face hidden in the warmth of his little brother's embrace and cried, all while promising himself to gather up his strength to one day be able to end his father's reign of terror.

At whatever cost.

Acotar taglist: @lilah-asteria @acotar-lover @mybestfriendmademe

Eris Vanserra taglist:

General taglist:

[lesbianslovebts]

I love how the Beyond Evil fandom has such diverse ideas about Lee Dongsik and Han Juwon's sexual dynamics. One interpretation I've seen is the older, more experienced man teaching the younger one, but other people headcanon Dongsik as inexperienced and/or having sexual dysfunction due to his grief and trauma. I like both of these interpretations, but I want to discuss another possibility.

Imagine Lee Dongsik moving to Seoul and working with the RIU. He grew up in a small town plagued with horrific memories where every single person knew his face, his name, his house, his parents, his sister, his trauma. But here in the big city, nobody knows who he is, and frankly, no one cares. He's anonymous in this new landscape, and even though he brought his baggage with him, this is the first time he can try to build his own identity.

Now, assuming Dongsik is gay and has related religious trauma (since he wouldn't even go to his grandmother's memorial), this is also the first time he's in a place with other people like him. I think the desire to experiment would be irresistible. However, I doubt he would've been capable of doing so in a healthy way. Dongsik is a person who does things for other people with no regard for the toll it will have on him. He gives and gives until there is nothing left. I can picture him doing the same in bed.

I'll put the rest under the cut because it might be triggering. Essentially, I'll be talking about sex as self-harm.

I see Dongsik as a man who bends and breaks himself to be whatever his bed partner wants. He does what is asked of him regardless of how it affects him mentally, physically, and emotionally. If he's with a cruel top, he's a passive bottom who doesn't speak up when it hurts, can't stay hard, and doesn't get off. If he's with a bottom who wants it to hurt, he'll slap and choke and fuck until they're satisfied, never mind the amount of alcohol he has to drink afterward to forget it ever happened. In other words, he doesn't set any boundaries to protect himself, and the men he sleeps with take advantage of that, knowingly or not.

This form of self-harm by proxy stems from Dongsik's extremely low self-worth and exacerbates it. He becomes disconnected from his body and dissociates during sex. He doesn't even know his own preferences and struggles to differentiate between pleasure and pain. It's a vicious cycle that starts and ends with trauma, but he can't imagine sex any other way.

Therefore, when he becomes intimate with someone who genuinely cares about him and his wellbeing (i.e., Han Juwon), it's terrifying. He has to reconnect with his body, develop communication skills, and unlearn old habits. All of these are difficult, overwhelming tasks. It would take time and require patience on both sides.

And though I headcanon Juwon as having no prior experience, his approach to exploring sexuality is healthier and more mature. In a sense, Juwon would be starting from the very beginning, and Dongsik would be starting over with him. They both need to learn what they like, what they don't, and how to communicate that. It wouldn't be perfect because nothing is, but I think Juwon would be the direct, honest, thorough lover that Dongsik deserves. Likewise, I know Dongsik would be the warm, reassuring lover that Juwon deserves.

This is the history I have in mind as I write my own fic "No Wound Too Deep, These Scars Will Keep." Let me know what you think in the comments, reblogs, or DMs. I am always open to JWDS discussion!

[vindieselsfacebook-blog]

okay after seeing your poll on the unpopular GG opinions I need to hear your thoughts on lane!!! please please elaborate because on first seeing your take I don't agree but I've also never thought about it so I would love to hear your opinion if you feel like it! :))

Ahhh first of all, omg thank you for caring to hear any of my rambling. :') Second of all, pheewwww boy do I have some unpopular Lane opinions lol.

My disclaimer at the top is that I like Lane! She gets so much interesting, flawed characterization that a lot of sidekicks in fiction don't. I can sound like a hater but I think there's this fascinating effect where fans either relate so closely with Lane, they project a lot onto her - to the point of pretending her flaws and mistakes just don't exist - or they flatly reduce her to her endearing strengths and root for her so much as an underdog, they don't engage with any deeper critique and honestly kind of infantilize her and don't hold her accountable for her choices.

Lane is so relatable because her experience speaks to folks growing up in similarly religious, oppressive, and/or culturally specific family units that maybe feel more authoritarian. This is where I must acknowledge that I'm an only child in a white (eastern European mostly) household where I never really clicked with my parents in most ways and was always kind of at peace with that fact. I've always struggled with fully understanding and empathizing with people (both irl and in fiction) who clearly feel so unhappy and/or oppressed by situations, but lack the courage to really do anything about it when it would be fully possible for them.

Lane's mom is cartoonishly restrictive of her and often downright cruel, but at the end of the day, Lane still cares too much what her mother thinks. She still wants to make her happy and internalizes those teachings instead of really pushing beyond them and rebelling like she acts like she wants to. She folds in on herself with a victim mentality constantly that frustrates me. As a kid, I totally get it, but once adulthood looms and she goes along with her mom's college choices for her, tries to make every friend and romantic interest delight in ridiculous charades to keep peace, and doesn't want to have sex before marriage, I get less sympathetic. Grow up, girl! Maybe it's because Lorelai's story is the 180 degree opposite of Lane's. I have so much love and admiration for Lorelai's bold choices, perhaps that's the root of my disconnect with Lane. Again - I totally get that this is shaped by my personal cultural upbringing.

Besides finding it hard to respect this desire to still be mommy's little girl when I don't think her mother has earned that OR that it's a personally satisfying pursuit for Lane, I find her boy-crazy obsessions dull and shallow. In she and Rory's brief S1 conflict where Lane feels ignored by Rory, I kind of can't help but take Rory's side because girl, I'm sorry, I'd be bored as shit hearing you ramble on and on about some dumb dude you don't even know because his hair is cute.

Although I resent the term so much these days, Lane fits the stereotype of "I'm not like other girls" MUCH more than either Rory or Lorelai in my opinion. She's always talking about dumb girls she doesn't like, girls in bands being her competition, etc. I get that's an easy coping mechanism for a girl like her who only has her taste as something she can feel superior to others about because her life is otherwise small, but still. The main characters get that critique but she's always exempt.

So many fans paint with a broad brush claiming Lane's a better friend to Rory than Rory is to her when I feel it's the reverse - Lane requires A LOT of emotional labor. I've heard folks claim she's just as smart - why couldn't she get into an Ivy, too? Well, to start, Lane wouldn't even go if she had the chance because she's too scared to be truly ambitious, she's not the main character of the show, and honestly, why do people think she's so smart? She's no dummy, but she's never portrayed as being especially good at school or interested in academics. That's where I see the projection creep in. People who relate to Lane are angry on behalf of her perceived wasted potential because they feel it about themselves or others they love.

Then of course, we all get mad about her quick marriage and pregnancy, but those are both fully Lane's choices. She's allegedly disagreed with her mom her entire life, but again chooses victimhood in refusing to have sex until marriage and still valuing the oppressive heteronormative life she's always been obsessed with. She was already making progress choosing her independent starving artist life at that point so she can't blame that choice on mommy. You're an adult - learn about contraception if you don't want to get pregnant! Or get an abortion! But no - Lane is a career self-saboteur. Like pushing Henry Cho away, Lane is addicted to struggling and hiding and keeps creating these circumstances for herself long after her childhood under her mom's thumb. She even needed her mom to plan a tour for her and her band.

AND ANOTHER THING (lol sorry, full drunk-uncle-ing now) but I don't think Dave Rygalski's willingness to lie, hide, and change himself for a girl's attention is healthy and gets waayyy too romanticized. Lane would be a nightmare girlfriend.

When fans share dreams of Lane moving to a bigger city, starting an all-girl band, or being successful in the music industry, I can't help but think those aspirations are far more out-of-character than people seem to think. She's just not that girl - and that's ok! Not everyone is. She ends up seemingly happy with her community and family and walks that line having a good relationship with her mom. We maybe hoped for more, but unfortunately she didn't. And just as with so many other things in Gilmore Girls, that rings so bittersweetly true to real life.

[hersaladdeer]

Chapter 6: The Other

An ongoing ProHero Hitoshi x F!OC fanfic. This chapter contains risqué content, including some dom/sub themes.

"We both know if you really wanted this to end, if you didn't enjoy this, you'd just have to say so and I'd stop. You like this, kitten." Hitoshi placed his free hand on her jaw, forcing her to meet his gaze. His eyes had taken on a sharper, teasing edge. The smirk on his face exuded confidence as he held her wrists in an iron vice. "So if I wasn't fucking you, what was I doing that riled you up so much, huh?"

"What do cheats get?"

The binding around her wrists were pulled higher, straining her shoulders as she lifted her head to meet his eyes. Binding her wrists to her ponytail seemed cruel, leaving her with the choice between discomfort or eye contact. The struggle for power between them had boiled over into physical, and the man had come better prepared.

"Fuck you." Takara didn't have more to give her rebuke. Her wit had been quickly dismissed when Hitoshi had lifted her onto her desk, her arms already bound behind her. Her ability to thrash was limited by her bindings and how she'd been placed on the surface that sat cold beneath her. "That's not the right answer, cheat." The bastard smirked at her resolve, her continued ability to defy his question despite her predicament.

"If you'd just answer, I'd give you what you want." Hitoshi's voice filled with disappointment, as though he was not hoping to punish her. He placed a swift, decisive smack to her cunt. The contact was electric - damn her body for reacting this way - causing her to jump, grinding against the mans hand. He'd left it there to taunt her with an awareness of friction while keeping it just out of reach. She'd have to work for it if she wanted it. He stood between her legs, one arm holding her shoulder up so she couldn't lay back, but leaning down enough that she'd have to struggle to meet his gaze. A torturous precipice.

"You don't care what I want, Hitoshi." Takara response ripped from her throat like a growl, allowing her eyes to meet the ceiling. The move provided a brief reprieve for her shoulders as her wrists fell down her back, the bindings loose enough to allow some circulation to return. "I don't think you even care what you want." Takara's breathing had started to level out, the struggle between the pair lapsing for long enough for a brief respite.

"An overlay on a picture you cannot perceive, yet accept as reality." Takara looked around the space, rapidly becoming aware at the surreal aspects of her surroundings. Her shoulders relaxed, her wrists suddenly free from their bindings. Takara took a moment to count her fingers. Eight? Eleven? The number was wrong, the concept of numbers becoming increasingly difficult to understand.

"I'm dreaming." Hitoshi's eyes met hers, but they were not his. In his sockets sat Takara's own orbs, the warm brown tones flecked with streaks of red and gold. The lighting in the white space highlighted them as Takara gazed upon the strange visage, the chimera emitting a radiant warmth with it's presence. Like home and hope, a snowy morning and a cup of tea. "I'm trapped here again, aren't I?"

"Control is a concept you've never mastered." Takara sighed. This place always made her feel stupid and small, like she could never hope to learn what it was trying to teach her. The other sat, patient and happy in Takara's presence.

"My grandmother tells me her inner voice is like a shadow." Lucid dreaming had started happening to Takara as a child. It was not something she'd practiced - it had simply happened, and she'd told her parents about the white space casually over bowl of cereal the next day.

Luckily her parents did not find it strange - her father had been raised by Kiyoko, after all - and simply told her she was talking to herself while she slept, that the voice was a friend because it was also herself. Like a mirror. Kiyoko had agreed, and only shared her own experiences when Takara was a teenager. "That the shadow chases her and she has to flee, hide, outrun and escape. You may lock me here-"

"I do nothing, your dreams collapse around you because you do not believe in them."

"-but I've never found you scary, and you've never been mean to me." Takara continued on, knowing that trying to parse the others meaning in the moment would be an exercise in futility. "I don't always like what you have to say, and you're not always right. But you're always kind. Why?"

"Why would I not be kind to you?" The other turned to her, the lighting accentuating the golden hues of it's hair. Hair Takara would have died for - she'd always found her hair one dimensional, red, like brick that had been painted over. So much potential but it just didn't work. "You are the only thing I've ever known that isn't me." Takara furrowed her brow at the comment before she was ripped away from the other, the sudden pull violent as the white space rapidly retreated.

An incessant tapping pulled Takara back into consciousness. The area between her legs was wet, warm, her nerves still alight from her dream as she tried to get her bearings straight.

Something had shifted within her. Takara was no stranger to self pleasure - she had toys and talented fingers - but she'd been unable to get herself off for a few days. At first it had seemed like a challenge - like her body was edging her, bringing her right to the brink before stopping short of the big finale. The second day had been less of a challenge and more of a plea - her favorite toys, her favorite candles and music and smells had all been used - and still her body refused to cooperate.

Now, day three, she'd been furious. How dare her body do this to her - yes, she was stressed, but shouldn't that entitle her to a quick hit of dopamine to help quell that feeling? She'd come so close in her dream - so close to sweet relief - but it had been snatched by none other than herself. Takara rolled to the window angrily, finding Hitoshi perched there, finger ready to tap again.

Takara stormed over, flicking the latch open with a violent movement. "What?" She bark whispered at him, concerned about her grandmother stirring. Hitoshi was silent for a moment as he took her in - the hair that had been pulled into a loose bun, the panties and oversized t-shirt she wore. The absolute disregard for her semi-nude state. He hadn't seen her since he'd made three runs at getting her number and failing each one. The castor bean case had gone cold, but the poisonings had also stopped. Hitoshi wasn't giving up yet but the urgency had abated.

"I heard a lot of movement." Takara had been tossing and turning, the comforter of her bed now a tangled pile on her mattress as she looked at it over her shoulder. "I was having a dream." She responded shortly, surveying him with a critical eye.

"A bad one?" Takara blushed at the question, her anger mixing with her fiery needs as looked to the left of the mans head - anywhere but his eyes, lest it bring her back to her dreaming moments. Anywhere but his neck where that capture weapon sat that could so easily bind her. "Takara?" Hitoshi pressed, concern painting his voice as he moved forward to step into her room.

"No, I just- No. It wasn't bad. It was just a stupid, stupid dream." Hitoshi nodded a few times before quietly shutting the window behind him. Takara continued to stew in front of him, her odd mood not changing. "I need help." She finally blurted with a sigh, crossing her arms and still not meeting his gaze. Hitoshi didn't respond, waiting for her to continue as he leaned against the windowsill. "I can't cum."

"....Could you ever?" Takara's eyes snapped to meet his, fury in her eyes at the question. "Yes, Hitoshi, I've had plenty of orgasms before. Most of them self-given. And now my body has decided I don't get to anymore." The whisper was angry, the blush not leaving her face as she explained her predicament. "It's been three days and I've tried-"

"Three days?" Hitoshi raised an eyebrow at the number. "How many times can you fail to masturbate in three days?" Takara opened her mouth to respond before pausing. How many times had she tried? The count became difficult to discern - when did one attempt end and another begin? The lack of orgasms took away the normal end and start marks.

"Let's ballpark at ten?"

"TEN?" The number sounded outlandish to Hitoshi as Takara slapped a hand over his mouth, muffling the outburst. The pair paused for a second, both listening for Kiyoko's snoring. It continued as it had been in the background as Takara uncovered his mouth.

"I just- I really need to get off." Takara sighed, an edge of desperation in her voice as she moved back to the bed. "I don't know if that's on the table for whatever this..."

"I'll get you off it you tell me about your dream." Takara threw her hands up in frustration, unwilling to give him the satisfaction of that knowledge. "Why do you care so much about my damn dream?" Hitoshi smirked at her, lightly pushing her to lay on the bed as he continued to stand over her. He'd deposited the voice modulator with the capture weapon and was in the process of stripping off his sweater. "You mumbled my name, and you're avoiding answering. You have something to hide."

"What, do you have enhanced hearing too?" Takara wanted the question to come out angrily, but the sight of him casually stripping overtop of her took the edge out of her voice. The dim lighting highlighted every muscle the man processed - the broad shoulders, the toned abdominals - and Takara found herself entranced by the trail of purple hair that pulled her eyes lower to where his pants dangled precariously close to falling off.

"You're the one answering questions, not me." Hitoshi undid the zipper to his pants but didn't remove them, standing above her with a smirk as he looked her over. She was a flustered mess, her brain rebelling against the wants of her body. "Your panties are soaked, Takara." Hitoshi slowly slid his hands up her calves, his fingertips digging into the flesh lightly. That blush had returned to her face, her breathing becoming more rapid as his hands roamed ever higher. "Were you having a dirty dream about me?"

Takara refused to answer, throwing her head back against the mattress in frustration. To avoid looking into his teasing, probing amythyst eyes. Hitoshi already knew the answer but wanted to hear her confirmation. Wanted her to admit that she'd been dreaming of him. That in her search for an orgasm Takara's brain had conjured him, and he must have gotten close to fulfilling her needs based in her flustered state.

"Yes." Takara's voice was defeated, the confirmation coming out as a pant. His fingertips dug into her thighs, the flesh soft against his calloused hands as he pushed them back towards her chest. Takara squirmed beneath him seeking friction which Hitoshi denied her.

"And what was I doing in this dream, Takara? Was I fucking you?" Hitoshi relished in the answer, in the power he held over her in this moment. He wanted to push her into a mating press, to stuff her so full that she couldn't help but cum, to feel her milk an orgasm from him with her quivering walls.

But first, he wanted details.

"I- you-" Takara's chest rose and fell rapidly as she met his eyes. She moved to sit up but Hitoshi was faster, grabbing both her wrists in one of his hands and pining then above her head. He'd let go of her thighs which stayed beside him on the bed, his body preventing her from closing them. The move had brought their faces closer together allowing Hitoshi a better view of her frustration. Her eyes were filled with rage and want as her hips bucked under him in an attempt to throw him off her. "You weren't fucking me, Hitoshi." Takara growled out, a snarl on her face as she spat the words at him. As though it was an insult. Her absolute anger, her fury at being seen by him, aroused something in Hitoshi.

He was going to drag this out. "We both know if you really wanted this to end, if you didn't enjoy this, you'd just have to say so and I'd stop. You like this, kitten." Hitoshi placed his free hand on her jaw, forcing her to meet his gaze. His eyes had taken on a sharper, teasing edge. The smirk on his face exuded confidence as he held her wrists in an iron vice. "So if I wasn't fucking you, what was I doing that riled you up so much, huh?" Hitoshi let go of her jaw, running his free hand up the side of her torso. "I think you can tell I like this too." Hitoshi ground his pelvis into hers, causing a sharp intake of breath from the woman beneath him as his erection brushed her soaked panties. "So why don't you give me the details so I can bring those dirty dreams to life?"

Takara's chest rose and fell frantically as she considered his offer. She tried to move her pelvis, aching for just a brief moment of friction against her core, but Hitoshi's other hand found her hip. He pinned it down with a firm push, not appreciating her trying to circumvent the game they found themselves in. "Cheat." Takara's eyes snapped to his as the word left his mouth, filled with recognition, and Hitoshi's grin widened. "Oh, did I call you a cheat in your dream too?" His hand let go of her hip and quickly found it's way to her nipple. "Did you like having me call you names?"

"Y-yes." Takara's whisper was almost inaudible, as though the confession took effort to express. "You called me a cheat. For the game. When I dealt, and you lost."

"And you liked it?" Takara didn't respond, biting her lip to prevent herself from speaking. Hitoshi continued with his questioning, not needing her to confirm it. The growing heat between her thighs was confirmation enough. "Did I spank your ass in this dirty fantasy of yours?" Her thighs trembled around his hips. Takara tried to free her arms, to hide any part of herself - she felt so exposed under his gaze, but his grip around her wrists didn't falter.

"No, you didn't spank my ass." Hitoshi didn't miss the dismissal. Odd to call out the body part in her denial. "Did you like when I smacked your cunt for being a brat?"

Takara seethed, but her anger was quickly tempered when Hitoshi gave her nipple a quick pinch, feeling the bar of her piercing beneath the surface of his fingers. An unexpected surprise. Her back arched against the bed at the movement, the assault on her aching nipples causing another wave of pleasure to overtake her body. Takara bit her lip to prevent herself from crying out, tears forming in her eyes from the edging and teasing the man above her was inflicting on her.

"Answer the question and I'll make you cum, Takara." Hitoshi didn't need to fuck her - his ego was thoroughly stroked by peeking into the woman's desires for him. He would glady make her cum if she would give in, if she could acknowledge that he aroused her in such perverse ways.

"Yes." Takara's response came out as a drawn out whine, her body settling beneath him in surrender. "You tied my hair to my wrists. You put me on my desk and teased me, you kept asking me what cheats get. Kept calling me a cheat. You got me so close 'toshi. So close. Please. Please." Her panting had slowed, her eyes meeting his as she finished her confession. Hitoshi didn't miss the final move she tried, the desperation in her voice almost allowing him to overlook it. Almost.

"You didn't answer the question." He leaned in closer to her, his erection pressing against her as he did so. "Last chance before I leave out that window."

Takara's eyes darted between the window and him trying to determine if it was a bluff. "Wait, wait wait wait." Takara closed her eyes, collecting the shattered pieces of her mind as she let go of her resolve. "I liked it. I liked when you punished me. I liked when you lifted me up and pulled my hair, when you used your weapon on me." Takara was laying it out, not wanting to risk the man making true on this threat to leave her in this state. "I liked when you smacked my clit in my dream. Please, please-" Takara bucked against him and Hitoshi allowed the movement, allowed her to feel the friction between her legs she so desperately craved "please make me cum."

Hitoshi didn't let go of her wrists, dropping her nipple to bring his hand to the overstimulated nerve bundle between her legs. He rubbed frantic circles on it and Takara moaned, her muscles loosening with the wave of pleasure his ministrations brought on. He wasted no time and slipped two fingers inside her - all his teasing had left her a dripping mess, her body giving no resistance as he set a relentless pace with his hand. His thumb continued the circular movements as his fingers found that spongy spot inside her he'd been looking for. Takara threw her head back as Hitoshi released her hands, clamping his hand over her mouth instead to keep her from crying out.

"Cum for me, you filthy cheat." Takara felt a white hot jolt of electricity coarse through her body at the words, her hips bucking against his hand without her direction as she came. His hand muffled the noises she was making, the sweet release after three days of relentless effort rewarding Takara with euphoria. Every one of her nerves was on fire as he slowed his movements, the circles around her clit becoming slower, the movements of his fingers less harsh. Her skin felt sticky in the warm air of the room, slick with sweat. Hitoshi slowly removed his hand from her mouth before leaning back, giving Takara a glorious view of his body. His body was also lightly slicked with sweat from the effort of restraining her and coaxing an orgasm from her.

"Thank you." Takara mumbled, her breathing slowly returning to normal. Her body felt heavy against the bed, exhaustion hitting her without mercy. The outline of Hitoshi shook it's head. "You can go." Takara whispered, knowing the man had his duties.

"No, you might drop." Hitoshi placed a hand against her forehead, an oddly caring move when he'd been ruthless with her just moments ago. "How do you feel?"

"Cold." The formerly warm air of the room now felt cold. She attributed it to the sweat, but Hitoshi had a different idea of why it'd come on. Takara felt anxiety creep into her peripherals but pointedly ignored it.

"Come here." Hitoshi stripped down to his boxers, going to slip under the covers with her. Takara looked at him with distrust, as though he was about to toy with her again. Hitoshi paused his movement at the sight. "Takara-" Tears filled her eyes as she looked at him, her body rigid. He'd stripped her bare, pulled dirty thoughts and feelings she'd rarely shared with others from her with a frightening ease. He obviously found her disgusting, perverse, weird-

Hitoshi wrapped his arms around her, pulling her into his shoulder as her tears began to fall. He pulled her into his lap, his hands moving up and down her back in long, slow strokes. "Subdrop is a real thing, Takara. It's okay." Takara didn't appreciate being called a sub. She wasn't submissive. This whole thing had been a mistake. "You did nothing wrong. Nothing is wrong with you." A few moments passed in silence as Takara's breathing became more level, more normal. Hitoshi felt her relax into him as she fell into sleep, waiting a few more moments before lowering her onto the bed and putting the blanket overtop of her.

He couldn't leave her. He couldn't.

A quick text to Denki letting him know he'd be late and a quick glance at her door to ensure it was locked, and Hitoshi crawled under the blanket with her. Takara didn't stir or move with the shifting weight on her bed.

Hitoshi lay next to her, unable to sleep, and unwilling to leave. He let himself drift between consciousness and sleep until eventually, sleep won.

Comments are always welcome! This whole chapter was fueled by a stormy Sunday and reading a smutty book. Let me know if you liked it!

Link to chapter index.

Link to chapter seven.

[pynkhues]

Heyy! Would you mind if i asked u to explain to what extent is lestat and his mother’s relationship incestuous? I havent read the books but i keep seeing everyone talk about lestat’s fucked up relationship with his mother altho they never talk about specifics and i’d like to know bcs i love lestat and i wanna know everything about him!!! And i also i dont trust just anyone to know bcs some people on twt just lie about having read the books😭 so yeah i trust you lol i hope it’s okay Thank you!!

Hey! Of course! It's - - mm, kind of a how long's a piece of string question to ask how incestuous they are, because on the one hand, very, haha, and on the other hand, it's more complicated than something like, say, Jaime and Cersei? I think what Anne was interested in exploring between them was an already unclear identity dynamic born out of isolation and trauma - mother-son, lovers, and avatar - and then reversing the parent-child with maker-fledgling.

In that sense, context is pretty important. To give you the short version, Gabrielle is an Italian woman (her gender identity is totally up for discussion, but I'm going to use she/her pronouns here just because Anne does) who's both highly educated and pretty independent for her time. She's an avid reader, well-travelled and wealthy, when her family marries her off to a French aristocrat from the Auvergne countryside. The Marquis - as his name implies - is titled, which means something in this era, but he's otherwise totally destitute, and also very abusive. Gabrielle is - in this sense - the total embodiment of a gothic heroine where she's isolated in a foreign country with a cruel man who basically bleeds her dry financially.

She has eight children to him, only three of whom survive childhood (and I tend to think this feeds into Gabrielle's complex relationship with her own body). Lestat's the youngest, and is pretty much immediately Gabrielle's favourite although she struggles to show this. We don't know how much Gabrielle's detachment from her children and her unwillingness to show affection stems from the years married to the Marquis, how much she's divorced herself from her body and role as mother as a result, and how much is just her, but it definitely shapes how Lestat receives love (which absolutely feeds into his relationship with both Louis and Nicki). He's desperate for Gabrielle's attention, and she loves him but neglects him to the point where she doesn't even teach him how to read, despite literature being her only solace in the Marquis' house.

Gabrielle and Lestat basically become emotionally enmeshed at this point, especially as Lestat's brothers follow in their father's footsteps and become further vectors of his abuse, and that enmeshment leads first to emotional incest and then a physical attraction that's acted on at least in kissing if not more (it's ambiguous). Their sense of intimacy is in a lot of ways perverted through trauma, but Gabrielle's really unclear with boundaries with Lestat which also leads beyond emotional incest to a sort of identity bleed. As I mentioned above, she also sees Lestat as avatar - he's her masculine self, she literally calls him her phallus in the book - which as a parent, is manifest of her own abuse of him. She, in those moments, can and would deny him his own personhood and independence and see him only as an extension of herself.

There's a reading there that that's reflective of Gabrielle being either non-binary or a trans man (and a number of parallels that Claudia and Gabrielle were both turned in the wrong bodies - Claudia as a child, Gabrielle as a woman), something amplified by the fact that she predominantly wears men's clothing after she's turned into a vampire. I can and do overall agree with both those readings, but I think it's also reflective of Gabrielle recognising Lestat has social power that she never will and that dressing as a man gives her greater freedom and mobility in an era where women had little.

Their relationship actually becomes a bit less incestuous when they're less isolated in Paris and Lestat starts whatever weird psychosexual thing he has going on with Armand, haha, and Gabrielle tries to help Nicki adjust to a vampire life he's never going to adjust to. She and Lestat have a pretty loving departure from one another where she goes to travel the world again, and they spend a long time out of touch as a result because Lestat can't communicate with her as his fledgling (and still can't read or write). They only actually reunite when she realises Lestat's in danger while on tour towards the end of TVL, and then teams up with Louis to try and save him from Akasha.

So yeah! It's a really complicated relationship and in a lot of ways I think goes beyond just incest and feeds into trauma and abuse as something that perverts family dynamics, but also has profound impact on personal identity. She's kind of the worst in a lot of ways, but I honestly love Gabrielle as a character and she's often really fun (her and Armand hating each other's guts is very funny) and I can't wait to see her on screen. There's a reason she's the character Sam and Jacob are both the most excited about, but I do think she's probably going to be a very polarising character for audiences.

[planet-crait]

A New Dev-elopement is next and I’m super excited! It sucks getting attached to Dev with kind of knowing what happens but also I hope for a season two to keep developing him.

Do these kids not normally get homework over the weekend? Lucky. Also a treasure hunt sounds fun! Not sure how that’s homework and what it’s teaching? Maybe the history of the city? Maybe? Or the clues are word problems they have to solve? Well we’ll see what they come up with for it. Kind of hilarious how blatantly everyone hurls paper at Mr. Guzman for that though.

How does the school afford tickets to the water park as prizes? Aww poor kids they’re so devastated that they’re going to be randomly paired. Ohh the heartbreak. I mean. I can’t necessarily relate I uh never had friends in my classes.

Anyways I get Mr. Guzman wants to get the kids to make new friends but I also get the pain especially for a big weekend thing. Oh no. Oh no Hazel when will you learn not to use the word Wish unless you mean it? Wanda’s horrified look was pretty funny though. But oh Hazel may or may not regret that wish I know she’s going to be paired with Dev now.

Lolz Dev and Hazels mini fight is funny but Mr. Guzman should break them up. Hazel you really don’t see why this happened? I think I’ve given up on the questioning Hazel blatantly talking to them it just. Is going to keep being yadda yaddad past. To be fair Hazel you said I wish. You can only blame yourself.

Ohh poor Dev. He can’t even play his game which has music that isn’t very loud at all. Like oof his dad blatantly says his work is a priority over Dev which. Is not an easy pill to swallow. I realize we’re not supposed to like him but he is literally a ten year old being emotionally abused at a minimum by his only parental figure in his life I will always struggle to hold any grudges against literal children especially abused ones okay sue me. (I mean good luck you’ll get like a sandwich and two pencils).

Why am I not surprised Dev wants to ditch a school activity? He seems to believe money will get him anything he wants and well…I can’t argue with the logic as fucked up as that is. I mean it’s wrong morally but it’s not incorrect because capitalism ruins everything.

Ohh so Hazel and Dev have a common book and Game in common? They seem like they could get along really well if Dev wasn’t so spoiled. But ohhh Dev does get the clues right lolz.

I just realized though making ten year plans old walk all over the city by themselves feels kind of cruel. They’re ten and it’s a big city. Also does each pair have their own clues? Like Hazel and Dev keep the post it notes how will the next pair find the next clue unless they’re all different?

Aww Dev and Hazel are having a moment that’s so cute honestly. They get it at the same time and have a little air guitar duet and are laughing. But ohhh the moment has to end. Not surprising I can imagine opening up is not easy for Dev given the glimpses of his home life we got.

He’s starting to smile though that’s progress! Oh OH! He takes off his glasses when he’s finally ready to make a connection (High giving someone) I thought maybe the glasses where like a mask for him and he takes them off when he’s ready to lower the mask and maybe let someone in. Poor kids though fail the high five and face plant hard.

Oh he didn’t put them back on and they laughed despite that oh that’s so cute. I wonder if the pizza stuff did a lot of heavy lifting for getting Dev to be willing to open up to Hazel? That would make sense honestly especially if he’s as starved for affection as I imagine he is.

Seeing him so genuinely smiling is so sweet and cute it makes my heart melt honestly. OHHH HE CALLED HER HAZEL AND NOT ANOTHER NAME!!!! They’re laughing and joking it’s so cute. Aww Hazel is praising Dev to his dad it’s so dang sweet. Oh. Oh no. Dale is brushing it off I hope Dev doesn’t shut down after this.

Oh no he did shut down. Oh poor kid. I feel so bad for him he was so happy and smiling and eager to introduce Hazel to his dad and he just shut him down and his accomplishments so hard. I cannot imagine how crushing it is to have your parent so blatantly brush off the hard work you did especially when it’s something you’re really proud of.

Hazel is trying so hard to reconnect and bring up the fun they had but oof years of emotional abuse do some damage and I’m not sure how easily that can be undone. Ohhh he has really shut down he put the glasses back on and called her the wrong name oof. I think I was right about the glasses being a mask. They hide what his eyes could show as sadness or other emotions he doesn’t want people (his dad) to see. It’s painful seeing such a young kid putting up a mask like this.

Oh I expected Hazel to cry not get mad and leave. Interesting. Also interesting to see Dev seem to immediately regret it and feel bad about it. Unfortunately abuse just. Messes with you. We don’t have any blatant abuse on screen (this is a kids show) but given the neglect Dev faces I struggle to think there isn’t also some major emotional abuse he deals with.

Hazels emotions seem all over the place her being so salty about the sushi. I have a feeling she’s trying to push down the feelings of friendship she was forming with Dev. Oh huh. Didn’t expect Dev to show up again. I guess he really connected with Hazel and just can’t admit it yet. Ohhh Devs insult gave Hazel the clue she needed I love that. Not the insult Hazels mind going back immediately to the project. I didn’t expect the paperweight to be relevant again but hey it works. Oh wow Dev looks super guilty. I kind of expected something to push him but he seems to be doing this all on his own.

Oh Dev lowering his glasses as he re opens up to Hazel. I get that though it makes sense his dad puts him down so much that he would immediately shut down. He is desperate to get something for his dad he’s willing to do a lot to try and get something I don’t think his dad will ever give him. Good on Hazel though for calling out that he hurt her. He owned up which is good but Hazel should call out she got hurt from it. HE SAID SORRY HE SAID SORRY!!!! Aww Hazel forgives him so easily and he removed the glasses again oh my heart.

Wait wait emotional growth wish????? I don’t think that’s ever come up before. Like ever.

Heist yes I love this. Lolz Dev finding doors open over and over again is hilarious. Dev joining on Hazels imagination for the heist is so cute though. And them posing for the security cameras is so funny. Oh more Dev smiles I love it!!!

Ohh I was wondering why he would demand students break into the principles office. That makes more sense and aww. Those photos are so cute. They’re adorable. Protect them at all costs. I do love the principle doesn’t care suddenly because homework over the weekend. Honestly nailed her personality there to solve the conflict.

Oh no the water park closed. Oh the kids will RIOT. THEY NAILED THEIR HIGH FIVE FINALLY!!!!!

Okay so uh. New favorite episode to be quite frank. The wish and its result made sense. The development for Dev worked and Hazel kind of understands Dev more and he’s being more open and not wearing his sunglasses anymore. Also Dev and Hazel are so dang cute. I hope we see him making more friends I need to see this child get love and support damn it. Really really solid episode absolutely loved it I hope we see more of Dev and Hazel hanging out. She clearly has a very good influence on him and he needs that in his life.

[wayfayrr]

I've been wanting to play around more with reader's relationships with the other links in househusband au, as well as writing for other interactions that might not happen within the main story. For this one it's Cal and reader bonding over tarot cards!

the reader in this is gender neutral however, they do get referred to as mum by Cal so just a heads up if you don't like gendered terms being used!

"Is there any reason you'd like to learn to read these so badly Cal?"

"... well you taught Wind and Wild, didn't you? And that it's a family tradition… So I should learn, shouldn't I?"

There's more he isn't telling me, some other reason he doesn't want to admit. I won't pry, if he doesn't want to talk about it there's probably something sensitive there. He's practically my third son at this point though, if he wants to open up to me it'll be his choice. 

"You don't have to unless you want to link, I'm not going to force you alright?" 

"No, I'd like to know how to. Please [Name]"

"I'll start by giving you a reading then, that way you can see how I do it. Then you can try on your own afterwards."

The way Cal's watching me set up my cloth and unpack my cards would be unsettling if it were anyone else, but I know why he struggles more than any of the other links socially. He's focused on my hands though, like they'll tell him every secret he needs. Shuffling my cards is almost more natural to me than breathing, so even with his eyes on me, I don't make a single mistake. 

“[Name], you dropped one of your cards…”

“You see that’s one of the things with tarot, sometimes the cards that resonate most with you or the person you're reading for, force you to see them by coming loose as you shuffle…”

It’s the tower. No, I'm not teaching him this only for the card that defines him be, this. It’s fine, I can play it off. Just shuffle it back in like nothing happened.

“Or I just accidentally dropped it and there’s no meaning to this one.”

“You dropped it again.”

“I think I’m just being a bit clumsy honestly.”

Why does it keep falling out, I already know this about him. I know he’s going to have to go back and that he has this ahead of him, but can’t he be happy? Just for now?  Stop just telling me what I already know, please just let him have some hope, please. With how many times it’s fallen out, I have to tell him what it means. It would be cruel of me not to, but still… Is it so bad of me to want to give him some hope?

“... Mum, if it keeps falling out it has to have a meaning. I can handle it if it’s bad, please can you just tell me?”

He… that’s the first time he’s seen me as a parent. The first time he’s called me that, and it’s… I have to explain what it means to him even if I struggle to say it. Even though I want to protect him more than anything else, I can’t hide this from him. It wouldn’t be fair…And… I’m crying. He doesn’t deserve this, he’s just a kid. Why does he have to have the fate of Hyrule on his shoulders?

“The tower it’s… It’s mostly associated with danger, crisis and destruction. I’m so sorry Cal, I - you deserve so much better, I didn’t want to tell you.”

“You... I- don’t…”

How incredible am I? Now he’s crying as well, and that’s the last thing I wanted. I should’ve stopped myself from crying, he needs someone being strong for him right now, not this. 

“Is- would it be alright if I…”

“You don’t need to ask sweetheart…”

Cal was the link I thought would be the least likely to throw himself into my arms like this, but after being told that danger is the only thing you’re seen as associated with I don’t blame him for breaking down. Holding him right now is the least I can do, because no matter how hard I try I can’t seem to stop myself from crying and well what kind of parent would I be if I didn’t comfort my son? 

“I don’t think I want to go back to Hyrule mum. I don’t, I-I can’t”

“You don’t need to worry about that for now, just… I’m here for you, you’re not alone baby.”

“I- I’m the youngest knight in the history of Hyrule, I trained for years but even still, even still… I…”

This is the most emotion I’ve ever seen from Cal, the most words he’s ever said to me, I just - I just wish it was for a better reason, anything but this. The way he’s clinging to me, how he’s wrapping himself up into my hold, how he’s just breaking to pieces and I don’t even know how to comfort him… I never want to let him back to Hyrule, how could I when I know what's waiting for him, but do I even have a choice? For now, I’m just going to hold him close to me until he feels alright, even if that means I have to stay here for hours. Especially if it means that I have to sit here for hours, he deserves everything I can give him for comfort and more. 

“I failed… I couldn’t do it… I’m not l-like the others here… I don’t know what you see in me…I’m a failure…”

“It’s not your fault Cal, you’re not a failure, everything was against you. You had so much more to fight than the others, more than you ever should’ve. You never should’ve had to fight. I’m so sorry Cal.”

He doesn’t even have the energy to speak at this point it seems, with how his words are coming out as muffled whimpers and sobs.  Why did Hylia ever think it was a good idea to force children to become heroes, to have their lives ruined by this immense guilt and trauma because she can’t handle her own problems?  It makes sense he acts like Sage, he is a version of him from a different time period after all but them crying themselves to sleep on me is one trait I wish I never had to learn they shared. After he wakes up I won’t rest until he’s found something in this world he genuinely enjoys, something to take his mind off of everything. Has he ever had the time for hobbies before? For now though, I’ll stay here with him for as long as he needs. Until he wakes up, longer still if he wants me with him.

[railingsofsorrow]

chapter II | solus

summary: “Right.” She says, locking eyes with him before she frowns, shaking her head. It's useless to try to hold a decent conversation with him. “Have a good day, Mark.”

And fuck you.

She closed the door as she left. Her mother always told her that violence in any form is not an answer to an argument. Well, Iris agreed with that, until Mark Dawson made her want to fucking punch him in the nose.

w.c: 1.5K

warnings/contents: language; toxic relationships; discussions about unfaithfulness; degrading someone during an argument.

A/N: this is only in Iris's point of view so you guys can see more into her character. the real action starts in the next chapter :)

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LETTERS — [1] [2] [3] [4] [5] [6] [7] [8] [9]

CHAPTERS — [1] [2] [3]

❝Solus❞

[adj.] ALONE.

Iris was a quiet person. Some might say it's because she's an introvert, others — like her parents — claim it is because she's always been like this. Quiet. Collected. Calm.

Those three adjectives defined Iris pretty well. She has been called quiet all her life. She remained collected over hard situations and she was always calm in moments that required a little bit more of her patience.

But there's something about quiet people, isn't there? Not only do they have the loudest minds, they can be cruel when angry.

Iris isn't someone who screams or who can get easily mad at people. But if she's being provoked for unjustified reasons, then she's not just going to sit by and watch it happen. No, her mother taught her better than that.

Mark got on her nerves today. Not just today, but he was making this an ongoing thing for a while now. Ever since they broke off their engagement, he's been an insufferable prick to her. It didn't make things easier that they work in the same university. Thankfully, both are from different departments.

Today, though, he's crossed a line. Throwing her students under the bus like that? It's unbelievable. Iris knew each one of her students, how dedicated they are and incapable of doing harm. Fabian and Meredith were two of her top students. Their grades are always above average despite the struggles they face every day.

Iris knew something was happening to Fabian after seeing his purple eye in one of her classes. He didn't talk to her about it and she didn't force him to talk either, it was his choice. Meredith only recently found out her mother had stage 4 cancer. She had requested a minute to talk to Iris after class, to explain that her recent absences were due to her mother's ongoing treatment. Both Meredith and Fabian found comfort in their friendship, despite not being enrolled in the same classes.

Now, the reason Mark had mentioned Meredith's name in the first place was because of Fabian. He often spent time in Iris' lab to review the subject or ask some questions, given that he showed interest in writing his thesis related to microbiology. Mark enjoyed knowing about his — now ex — fiancée's whereabouts, even though she spent most of her time in her lab, that is, when she wasn't teaching. During one of these evenings in which she lost track of time, Mark walked into her lab to find her and Fabian discussing extremophiles and their role in bioremediation efforts; they were at least seven feet apart from each other. Her night had gone south after that, he kept on accusing her of cheating and, in spite of the unreasonable claims and his alarming behavior, she figured it was just one of his many bad days.

Until his jealousy had gotten to the point where, besides her work, her well-being was also being jeopardized. So she put an end to it, she had to. But he clearly hadn't. “You're being ridiculous.” Iris burst inside Mark's office after her last class of the day with fury seeping from every pore in your body.

He barely looked up from his computer screen. “Are you back? I thought they were supposed to take you to the police station.”

“Why do you have to be like this? It's like you're being insufferable on purpose, to get a rise out of me. Is that it? Is that what you want? To provoke me, Mark?”

“My life doesn't revolve around you, Iris.”

Oh, that's very convenient.

“Then fucking prove it!” Iris roared, feeling her face heat up from how frustrated she was. She doesn't doubt there might be a vein pulsing in her temple about to pop. Quiet. Collected. Calm. That's what she's known for. “You've been watching my classes, accusing a student of sleeping with his professor, keeping tabs on me— what did you say again? That your life doesn't revolve around me? Your actions may prove otherwise, Mark.”

Mark glanced up at her. Silence tunes out each one of her thoughts at that moment. That look. That cold look in his fog-gray eyes that he carried whenever he was contradicted. It displayed his thirst for always being right. It had always scared her.

Iris does not lower her head, not like she used to.

“What?” Mark leaned over his desk slowly, narrowing his eyes. “I'm still convinced about Henley. You won't fool me. I know you cheated, Iris.” He scoffed, leaning back against the chair. “You just love playing the victim.”

Those are the moments that dawned on her, have I ever known you? Or have you been this kind of awful person the entire time and I was just too blind to see it? Maybe she didn't want to know the answer to that question. Maybe it is better that she didn't know.

“Right.” She said, locking eyes with him before she frowned, shaking her head. It was useless to try to hold a decent conversation with him. “Have a good day, Mark.”

And fuck you. She closed the door as she left. Her mother always told her that violence in any form is not an answer to an argument. Well, Iris agreed with that, until Mark Dawson made her want to fucking punch him in the nose. She can't believe she almost married him. “Where are those fine police officers, I'm ready to be questioned.” Iris was finishing up cleaning the mess she made on her counter while distracted when her friend's voice entered the room without so much as a greeting. She was used to it, Lindsay Taylor didn't need to verbally announce when she entered a room, her whole personality did it for her. “They're not police officers, Lind. They're FBI Agents.” Iris's lips lifted slightly in the corners in amusement. “Even better. Did you ever see them in those FBI vests on the news? God, it's tasty.” “Hey.” Iris threw a pair of her pale blue work safety gloves. “Behave yourself.” Lindsay caught the gloves because of her fast reflexes and gave her a wink, stepping towards the counter to check out the mess her friend had made. “What's this? Another anatomic bomb?” “Shut up.” Lindsey smirked, throwing back her shiny blonde strands to cross her arms over her chest. “Are you free tonight? Or are you sleeping over in the lab again?” Iris shakes her head, choosing the single response that seems more effective. “I'm going home.” She did not want to go out. All that Iris needed was to rest on her couch with a glass of wine while watching her favorite show on TV. “You okay, honey?” Iris turned off the water faucet and gazed up at Lindsay's concerned gaze. It immediately clicks in her brain. “Oh, no, I'm fine.” She's quick to brush Lindsey's worry off, knowing what it is about. “Did he ask you to come here and ask me that?” She offers Iris an eye roll, wrapping an arm around her shoulders as she moves away from the sink. “Yes, but I came because I'm your friend and not because of his possessive request. Figured something had happened.” It did. He happened. “Look,” Lindsey began, lowering her hands towards her wrists and playfully shaking her arms. Iris can't help the smile stretching over her face. “I want you to be free of these strains, alright? That includes going out with your hot coworker so you can have a couple of drinks and maybe have some fun.” Iris eyed her cautiously. “Your idea of fun is definitely different from mine.” Lindsay's grin was slippery, bold, and most definitely very suggestive. It was why most girls and guys fell at her feet after one glimpse in her direction. “Hear me out... You stay for an hour. An hour and a half at most,” she quickly added before Iris can complain. “And then I'll take you home.” Her expression softened for a moment, hands cupping Iris' cheeks fondly. Iris was always reminded of her mother when Lindsay did that. “You need to enjoy your life. You're single, healthy, and gorgeous. There is no need to refrain yourself from joy, yeah?” Her previous words from not so long ago rang through her mind. Don't let people who hurt you tear you down. He has no power over you anymore. “Okay.” Iris relented, causing Lindsay's mouth to split with the widest smile she had ever seen. Scary. “A couple of drinks and I'm off, alright? It's not my crowd.” The last thing she needed was a noisy place to spend the rest of her night. But Lindsey was right, ever since her relationship ended, Iris did buried herself in her work. Other than that, a few exchanges of letters with a certain FBI Agent have managed to bring excitement through her days, but maybe human interaction is also good, for a few hours. “You're amazing.” Iris sighed. “Yeah, yeah. I know."

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taglist: @lilyviolets ; @chayceschultz ; @cultish-corner ; @lover-of-books-and-tea ; @theonecalledrue

[yanderes-galore]

Gib me yandere shamura content pls i need it (there is so little of it🥲)

Sure! Research on Bishops has certainly been a struggle so bear with me on this. Their personality in this is HC based on dialogue. After this concept is done, I will have content for every Bishop but Heket, lol.

Yandere! Shamura Concept

Pairing: Platonic/Romantic

Possible Trigger Warnings: Gender-Neutral Darling, Obsession, Sacrifice, Manipulation, Possessive/Protective behavior, Violence, Murder, Blood, Cults, Brainwashing, Biting, Venom/Drugging, Isolation, Restraints, Forced companionship/relationship.

Bishop Shamura, the eldest of the Bishops.

Shamura is considered a Bishop of Wisdom, Followers often praying and worshiping them for knowledge and wisdom.

They are also considered a symbol of War.

They are known for their might and were even the ones who thought of the plan to lock Narinder away.

Nowadays, while not as wise as they once were, they are still no fool.

Their mind has been broken... but they are still powerful.

Based on dialogue, Shamura is said to have memory loss.

They tend to repeat phrases and act very cryptic.

To be their obsession, I imagine you'd be a Follower in Silk Cradle.

You worship them for knowledge and are quite the scholar.

Just because Shamura seems like a teacher at times... does not mean they aren't cruel.

They are just like their siblings in terms of how they treat Followers.

There are still sacrifices, the motive is simply tweaked.

Shamura has even admitted to murdering Followers when they see The Lamb do it in game.

Despite their cruelty as a being of war and wisdom...

As their obsession and prized Follower, you're treated like their student.

Being chosen by Shamura to be their student is no doubt a high honor.

Many would quite literally kill to be that close to their almighty Bishop.

Meanwhile, you're taken in because Shamura likes your attention.

Even the wise spider wants a companion other than their siblings.

Their siblings have their own domains to look after.

Which often leaves Shamura alone with their own thoughts.

Having all the attention of your Bishop is not always a good thing.

Most of the time, for bonding, they keep you in their Temple while they read scrolls.

Each Bishop no doubt has a place they like to keep their obsession to bond with them.

Leshy has a garden, Heket has a pond, Kallamar has a crystal cavern, and Narinder currently has no domain of his own now...

But Shamura likes to keep you in the room of their Temple.

The place is covered in silk and scrolls.

This is where your Bishop calls home.

They are vulnerable enough with you to allow you here, in their presence as they immerse themselves in their writings.

As you are their favored one, this study room is where you two bond.

Shamura often gives you knowledge when you ask for it, no sacrifice needed.

Although they may ask for gifts instead... and you can't tell another Follower what was said.

You are given advantages... but it all comes at a cost.

As Shamura's favored one, the one thing you seem to sacrifice is free time and attention to your Bishop.

To them, this is your new way of worship.

They merely ask for your time... Who are you to disagree?

They do so much for you, they guide you, they teach you...

Being loyal is the least you could do.

Considering Shamura deals a lot with the mind... It would make sense if they manipulated and brainwashed their obsession, right?

While their siblings practice under The Old Faith... Shamura wants to be the only Bishop you're loyal to.

Your home is in Silk Cradle and your Bishop is strong.

Don't you know your Bishop has slain other Gods?

I imagine Shamura has parental qualities at times with their favorite Follower.

They teach you many things and often coddle you compared to other Followers.

Other Followers toil away and make sacrifices to their great Bishop.

Meanwhile, Shamura treats you like you're the best gift they could've ever gotten.

You are the company they have wanted for a long time.

They are attentive to your every need... Often expressing protective or even possessive behavior towards their obsession.

They expect total loyalty from their obsession.

If they don't have it, they'll try to regain it by messing with your mind.

Although... Another option they have is keeping you wrapped in silk within their room.

The silk is surprisingly comfortable yet restrains all movement like a cocoon.

If Shamura is tired of your dissenting... you will be locked away and re-educated by them.

Shamura calls every little disagreement you have dissenting.

They expect a mortal like you to dedicate all your time and effort to them.

It's a bit childish, they know...

But they'll be patient with you.

You'll have your freedoms around Silk Cradle as long as you do one thing.

Be theirs.

Shamura wants you to give them your everything as their favorite Follower.

Your attention, your mind, your worship, your heart if they asked for it.

Out of all the Bishops, they are one of the most patient besides Narinder.

Even if you don't agree with them on everything, they are willing to hear you out in some cases.

Shamura really does give guardian vibes.

No doubt due to the fact they are the eldest sibling.

Although, while they act like a teacher at times...

They are capable of seeing you like a spouse, too.

Imagine how that would feel?

They're so much larger than you, yet they view you as their little spouse.

Their other Followers must be envious.

Although, they know better than to question their Bishop's taste.

Shamura is still a master of war, after all.

If you ever express a want to leave, they deny you with a wave of their hand.

You have enough freedom, they let you roam Silk Cradle's Temple and surrounding area as you please already.

Any further and you'll get yourself killed.

Shamura would rather not plead with Narinder to bring you back.

Considering my Helob concept... It does make me wonder if Shamura would be into biting.

In fact, it makes sense because they're a spider.

Perhaps if you're too... rowdy... Shamura sinks their fangs into you.

Maybe their venom even acts like a drug.

Maybe it doesn't paralyze you... but it does mess with your mind.

Shamura making a mind altering venom makes sense, right?

With their themes, brainwashing you through venom if words don't work makes sense.

They may seem like a Bishop who will hear you out, who will let you do anything as their favorite...

But there's limits.

Sometimes to calm a rowdy Follower, you need to alter their mind a bit... and wrap them in a web for your own amusement.

Shamura would then relax with you in their lap, you now blissfully unaware of why you were dissenting as you're swaddled in a web of silk.

Shamura is an eerie Bishop, but every Bishop has their quirks.

Shamura is the most calm yet cryptic... always dealing with you calmly, even in arguments.

You are not immune to their fury as their favorite.

Your insolence is quickly dealt with... Honestly, you're lucky venom and silk is all that happens.

Other Followers would've just been sacrificed.

In fact, any who bad mouth you are sacrificed.

Shamura hears all through their webs and connections.

They've slaughtered many, a few more simply send a message.

Then afterwards, with blood on their claws, they come back to you to relieve their stress.

The Bishop adores you and your company.

So much so that maybe, if you keep acting out, they'll lock you in their Temple.

This is the price you pay for Shamura's knowledge and care... All is given to your Bishop...

Your attention, your love, your devotion, your comfort, your dependency... and most of all... your freedom.