#None of us are breaking us apart; a concept is. A concept that has more power than the bond between parent and child

[theres-whump-in-that-nebula]

I’ve destroyed it all. The circumstances are not my fault; nevertheless, I am the straw that broke the camel’s back. I am the thousandth paper cut needed to end a life. I am innocent on my own; but with everything behind me I will be the one to bring destruction. I don’t want to be the cause. I never wanted this. I saw it coming miles away and I did it anyway; the worst part is that I see exactly where it’s going. Please let my intuition be wrong for once. This doesn’t feel real.

[bingsoo-jung]

I said this in the comments of someone else’s post, but I’m going to say this here. Taash identifying as non-binary is good actually, and in fact better than the dev’s making up some new term for them. Let’s get into it.

So for a bit of background, I’m non-binary and Thai. If you don’t know, Thai has specific terms for different gender-sexual identities, they’re quite old, they date back a few hundred years. However, the thing about culturally specific terms is just that, they’re culturally specific. The reason you use them is because you are tied to the culture in such a way that you gender-sexual identity cannot be disassociated from it. Because, to be clear, these terms are never just about your gender or sexual identity. They encompass a role you play within society itself.

For instance, in Thai culture we have tom/tomboys. These are AFAB folks who occupy a masculine societal role and date women. If you’re AMAB you cannot be tom. If you’re transmasc and feminine? You cannot be tom. If you’re transmasc and not attracted to women? You cannot be tom. If you’re transmasc and mostly date men? You cannot be tom. If you’re transmasc but don’t particularly feel like taking care of the girl you date, taking her out, being the ‘man’ in the relationship? You can’t really be tom.

Because the thing about culturally specific genders is that they come with a lot of rules. Being tom isn’t being non-binary. There are cis women who are tom, and there are non-binary people who are toms. You do not get eschew gender roles in these cases. You are quite literally taking one on. You have a role and place in society that has been made for you, and you are expected to carry it out.

Because of this, none of these terms are a one-to-one for other identities, and nor should they be. Being kathoey or hijra is not the same as being a trans woman or non-binary, and visa versa. You can be kathoey and not be trans. You can be trans and not be kathoey. Being aqun-athlok or any other specific term shouldn’t be either. The idea that it is, is more ahistorical and inaccurate than the word non-binary itself. Giving Taash some new, culturally specific term, would inherently tie them to a culture, and one perhaps that they didn’t feel apart of. Especially since Taash’s entire story is about struggling to figure out where they belong. Arguably the biggest issue with their story is that you have to make them decide, and fundamentally tying them to a term would’ve compounded that problem.

The reason I identify as non-binary and not a tom, is because I am not occupying some specific role in Thai culture. Despite living in LA, I rarely interact with other Thai people who aren’t my family. I do not live in a cultural context that would allow me to identify as a tom.

The thing about terms like non-binary, or trans, or agender, is that they’re meant to be acultural terms encapsulating the concept of truth to oneself and ones identity. Whereas culturally specific terms aren’t, they’re about the role you hold in society and where you fit in. It’s about your identity within a status quo. Taash is a character who is eschewing societal roles, and breaking the status quo, giving them those terms just wouldn’t work.

And finally? Using non-binary itself allows the writers to very specifically say where they stand. There is no space given to transphobes. You either accept that DA is queer-friendly or bust. And that’s a very important stance to make in an era where trans and non-binary folks are being actively targeted. There’s no ‘well Taash isn’t actually trans or non-binary they’re [insert term here]!’ Because people would’ve done that, we know they would’ve. This means people can’t do that. They have to just say that they have an issue with the term, and thus we can call them for what they are. Transphobes. Plain and simple.

So yeah, Taash’s identity does have nuance, it has a lot of it. And to be honest with you, I wouldn’t be surprised if Trick Weekes, a non-binary person whose wife is First Nations and thus from a group with culturally specific gender identities, knows about the difference between something like two-spirit and trans. And to be honest with you, using something like non-binary has nuance I doubt was actually afforded to Krem, considering they cast a cis woman to play Krem.

So yeah.

[springgirlshowers]

How about the reader and Joost are childhood friends that get split up, but reunite because Joost wants them to be apart of his eurovison team. They realize they miss eachother a lot and confess and happily ever after (⊃｡•́‿•̀｡)⊃

It’s So Sweet

Paring: Joost x GN!Reader (no pronouns used!)

CW: none!

A/N: ahhhhhh this one is so cuuuuuute! i love the childhood friends to lovers trope so much! thank you for the request and i hope you enjoy it <333

masterlist!

· · ────── ·𖥸· ────── · ·

Joost and you were never seen apart as kids. Always walking in the school hallways together, sitting and partnering up in the classes you had together. Constantly hanging out after school and on the weekends. You two were basically connected at the hip.

Until your family gave you the news you would be moving to Sweden. Something to do with a better job opportunity. You begged for them not to, to move somewhere where you currently were at least. Though you knew your pleas wouldn’t do much.

Before you left, Joost and you exchanged emails. To keep in touch while you two would be apart.

You did for awhile. But as you both got older, your emails to each other took longer. It would be weeks, months, before you replied to each other.

Until they just stopped completely. You two had gotten too caught up into your adulthood. You hadn’t returned to your hometown since you moved away.

Joost fell into a successful career as a musician. You getting yours as a dancer.

It’s been years since you and him talked.

Your heart nearly stopped once you saw the notification when you were on the bus after a rehearsal.

joostklein has requested to follow you.

His profile picture was a picture of him as a toddler. The one you’ve seen so many times before, hanging on the wall in his living room when you went over to hangout after school.

You looked through his account, he almost looked the exact same as he did when he was a preteen. Only his body was scattered in tattoos, he had grown a mustache, much taller, and his hair was dyed into a nearly white color and cut into a mullet.

His most recent posts were a reel revealing how he’d be representing the Netherlands in the next Eurovision competition, and another video revealing the date his song for the event would be released.

Minutes after you accepted the request and followed him back, he messaged you.

It was a simple question, asking if you were the same one he knew as a kid. You responded, telling him you were.

The texts following after that were a little bit awkward. Soon the tension between you both was gone, you told each about what you’ve been doing for the past years, how they’d gone, what you’ve been doing now.

After exchanging phone numbers, the texts turned into calls, then video chats.

You listened to his songs, almost going through every single one of his albums in one night.

You were surprised by a lot of the lyrics, by how the innocent boy with a side swept haircut you once knew, was now singing about having sex with women to a mario kart remixed beat and saying “suck my dick bitch” multiple times in another song.

You honestly found them catchy, however you realized they were better to listen to with earbuds in or alone, rather than in any public place.

However, the lyrics in other songs were more heart breaking. God, soul shattering even.

“Maybe it was wrong. But I miss us, I miss home.”

“My dad who was laying there, seen but no authority. We'll see by the days, we don't say goodbye. My mom who was laying there, I often think about that day.”

“Hey, I have a disease, it's a very specific one. I always panic and they have no therapies.”

“But still it hurts. Am running from myself. Cry the entire day for "help"

Joost would show you his tattoos, the ones he already had and the ones he wanted to get in the future, drawings he made, but he refused to show you the idea concepts for his Eurovision costume.

He told you he wanted it to be a surprise.

The day before he revealed his outfit to the rest of the world. He called you during a work break, telling you he had to show you something.

You opened the video call to see him standing there in a big bright blue suit with extremely pointy shoulders.

You felt bad when you let out a laugh, slapping your hand over your mouth to muffle it.

“You like it?” He asked, posing goofily.

“Yeah. It’s very…silly. Very big.” His grin only grew larger at your words.

“Perfect. That’s exactly what I was aiming for.” He smiled and sat down.

“So, your other friends, one of them is gonna dress up as a bird? And the other is gonna wear a clip on ponytail?”

“Yep!” He pipped. You just laughed and shook your head. He cleared his throat, his face on the screen looking nervous all of the sudden.

“So, you told me you still dance.”

“Yeah! I do group shows and stuff.” You nodded, placing your head on your fist.

“That’s great, very great. Um, do you still hakken?” You were a bit taken aback, confused by why he was asking about that specific dance.

“Uh yeah. But usually jokingly, like when I’m with friends.” You bit at your thumbnail. “Did you ever learn?”

“Yeah! I’ve gotten pretty good at it.” He chuckled, going silent for a minute after. “I’m wondering if you would perform with me, like on the stage. I need another back up dancer. And you’ve always been so talented at it.” His words made you blush, but you were still a bit unsure on what he was asking you.

“So, um, you want me to do the hakken dance with you? At your performance?” You felt nervous, when you did the dance you usually did it after a night of drinking to make your friends laugh.

“Only if you want to! I mean, we could meet up, I’m in Sweden now.”

“What?” You shouted, cringing at how loud it was.

“Yeah, i’ve been here to do interviews and all that stuff.” He scratched at his arms, a bit embarrassed he didn’t tell you earlier about this.

“You really don’t have to do this if you don’t want to.” He spoke, “Its free of charge for you, you’ll get paid for it. If that persuades you.” He added on, joking.

“I’ll do it for free.” Maybe your answer was a bit too quick, maybe it was impulsive. But you really wanted to see Joost again, you’d jump at any chance you could see him.

The both of you agreed to meet up a few days later at a park not far from where you lived.

The park was quite empty, most likely due to the fact the sun was already going down, an orange gradient filling the sky.

You nervously walked up to him, he was sitting on a bench. He looked so familiar yet so different. It gave you a strange sense of nostalgia.

“Hi.”

“Hi.” He immediately grinned as he saw you. You sat down next to him.

The sunset cast a golden glow on his face, making his blue eyes so much more prominent, his face was so gorgeous.

“So you’ll really dance with me?”

“Yeah, why not.” You shrugged, completely unbothered by his question.

“You’ll be on a giant stage in front of thousands of people. You’ll be on TV with the entirety of Europe watching.” Joost felt nervous, he didn’t want to pressure you into doing this, he really wanted you to be there with himz But he wasn’t gonna force you into something you had no interest for.

“I’ve never been one for stage fright.” You smiled, the sweetness in your expression made his worries begin to drift away.

“Perfect.” He looked down at his feet, smiling so hard his cheeks begin to hurt, “I’ll text you the schedules and everything you need to know.”

“Cool.” You looked down at your shoes as well. Enjoying the comfortable silence and soft breeze of the air.

“I really missed you.” He spoke out, added your name to the sentence, making it more impacting. You looked at him, jaw ajar in admiration.

“I missed you too.” You said softly, placing your hand over his. Soon wrapping it around his. You both sat there for a few minutes like that.

“I’ve been thinking of moving back.” You broke the silence. “To the Netherlands, that is.”

“Really?” Joost looked at you, a mixture of amazement and shock in his face.

“Yeah. A company reached out to me, giving me a job opportunity. Really good pay, positive reviews, a safe workplace.” It felt funny, you were thinking about coming back to your hometown for the same reason your family made you leave.

“That’s great! You should take it!”

“I probably will. It seems promising.” You squeezed his hand. “And it’d be nice to be close to you again.” You added on, pursing your lips to try and hold back a smile, it failed.

“Yeah, yeah, that would be nice.” He murmured,“Um, I should get going, early TV interviews tomorrow.”

You nodded, getting up before he did.

“Just text me what channel you’ll be on, i’ll make sure to watch for you.” You said, a little bit too excitedly.

“Yeah, yeah, I will! I’ll see you later.” He chuckled.

“I’ll be in the Netherlands in a month most likely, just so you know. See you, Joost.” You turned, only getting a few steps in before his voice stopped you, causing you look back at him.

“There’s this really great ice cream parlor that opened up there, maybe we could, uh, go there when you’re back, if you’d like?” He cleared his throat.

“I’ll be going back in a month too, just for a little bit before I have to come here again.” He fiddled with his fingers.

“Awesome then, it’s a date.”

· · ────── ·𖥸· ────── · ·

[yuriskies]

A fun element to Otherside Picnic vol 8 (spoilers ahead after the break, if you're still planning to read it) is an easter egg about the location of Toriko's apartment. Actually, "easter egg" might be underselling it a bit; it has a huge amount of thematic relevance to Toriko's character. So here's the easter egg: if you follow Sorawo's description of her path to Toriko's apartment, you can actually find the building on Google Maps.

The train arrived in Nippori. Pushed by the rush of people, I got off, went down the stairs, and out the gate. I climbed the hill, out of breath, in the unrelenting rain. The wall of a graveyard continued along the left-hand side. Turning onto a side street at the top of the hill, I could see Toriko’s apartment in the middle of a residential area ...the building uses an autolock system... Getting off on the fourth floor, I headed into the hallway. The town I could see over the chest-high wall was misty in the rain.

The fun thing about this is that Sorawo's narration is just specific enough to follow along. In a way, it's an invitation to the reader to imitate Sorawo. Prior to the events of the series, she spent time tracking down the sites of ghost stories from the minor details that leaked into their narration. Tracking down where the weirdness happened placed it in context; stories from the edge of reality seem more reliable when the reality can be charted.

So, let's do it. Sorawo mentions a graveyard wall - this can only be Yanaka Graveyard, located on the west side of Nippori Station. Yanaka is located on the former grounds of the Tenno-ji Buddhist temple, and is one of Tokyo's largest cemetaries by area. It is the resting site of the final Tokugawa Shogun, as well as a who's who of Meiji-era academics, literati, and government officials.

The road along the north edge of Yanaka Graveyard goes up a steep hill, and where it reaches the top, a side road splits off on the left to go into a residential area. Going into street view shows that all of the buildings along this road are only two or three stories tall, except for a building at the very back. It's four stories tall. The building has an auto lock system at the front door, and chest high walls along the hallways to the apartments. Bingo.

The fun part of this is the name of the apartment complex: 山口マンション (Yamaguchi [Mountain Gate] Mansion).

The first part of the thematic relevance here is its relationship to Satsuki's monologue about being brought into the Otherside.

"What happens to the people who don't return?" "Who knows? They probably die, right?" "Life and death aren't the issue. Once you get to that point, that is." My brow furrowed. "What do you think mountains are made of?" Satsuki asked, smiling. "Trees and stuff?" I said without putting much thought into it. When I thought of mountains, the image that came to mind for me was the mountains of my home prefecture, Akita, covered in green. "If trees were sapient, they wouldn't think of themselves as a mountain. Only as a single tree. It's the same concept. People who go into the mountains, regardless of their mental state, are still people. But the wind that blows through the trees. The rocks. The birds. Every speck of rock covering the bedrock. The beasts, hiding in their dens. The ancient mollusks, sleeping in a geologic fold. The morning dew in a spider's web. The bacteria and microorganisms in the soil, breaking down the body. None of these individual constituting elements is the mountain on its own, yet the mountain is made up of them. So it is for those called by the mountain. Living or dead." She raised her hand, pointing all five fingers at herself. "That is how it is for me." Uncurling her fingers, she pointed at me. "That is how it is for you."

This "mountain gate" connection also ties back to Sorawo's previous visit to Toriko's apartment in File 4, where she opened the door to the apartment and encountered the ultrablue void of the Otherside. Thematically, this places Toriko's apartment at the interface between the surface world and the Otherside. The back of the building also abuts Yanaka Graveyard, and so thematically, also forms an interface between life and death.

Sorawo touches on this latter theme in the back half of File 26, when Toriko forces herself on Sorawo in her parents' bedroom. Sorawo becomes profoundly uncomfortable - equally, if not more disturbed by her surroundings than Toriko's behavior. After relocating to Toriko's bedroom, Sorawo realizes the following:

This home was a grave, and Toriko the crypt keeper—that's the image that I was getting. The sudden feeling of resistance I'd felt when we were in the bedroom might have come from that mental association. Even if it weren't the place where her parents had once slept, it was almost like flirting in front of a Buddhist altar. After entering Toriko's room, I finally got it. This room has color. It's the room of a living person.

Toriko's bedroom forms a small bubble of life in an otherwise dead house. The interface between life and death isn't simply close to Toriko's living space, it is actively defined by it. This ties in closely to Toriko's character, given that she's admitted her pushiness to do relationship things in the Otherside is driven by a fear of loss. Her mothers suddenly died, and Satsuki suddenly vanished. All she has left of them is her cherished memories, and she wants to form those memories with Sorawo, just in case.

Another element in play here is Sorawo's relationship to the Otherside. At multiple points in the series, the Otherside seems to suddenly draw closer when Sorawo gets stressed out with her thoughts about her relationship with Toriko. The most obvious example is in the hot springs when the mannequins appear immediately after Sorawo feels backed into a corner with Toriko's "cute boobs" comment, but those fears are also linked to Hasshaku-sama (both times the entity appears as Sorawo contemplates jealousy and the possibility that Toriko will be taken from her), Satsuki's surface world appearance (Kozakura implying Sorawo is manifesting Satsuki through her jealous fixation), the the love hotel girls' party (the lion dancers appear as Sorawo is trying to avoid a romantic bath with Toriko), and Satsuki's appearance in vol 7 (when Sorawo is considering where she would be without Toriko). In a sense, the terrifying aspects of the Otherside to Sorawo are closely related to the terrifying aspects of a defined relationship with Toriko.

One puzzle piece in play is a conversation from vol 7, as Sorawo, Kozakura, and Toriko are figuring out their approach to exorcize Satsuki. They discuss the concept of "atmosphere" and its ability to transmit emotions, particularly fear, and explore ways to change that atmosphere. Toriko mentions that she's mostly heard ghost stories where sex changes the atmosphere. Sorawo then elaborates to a doubtful Kozakura with the following:

No, it's true. There's stories where they were in a real bad situation, but then they started saying all sorts of lewd things and they survived. I don't tend to say that ghosts are this way or that, but sex is the source of life, so that makes it the polar opposite of ghosts, which belong to the world of the dead... At least, there's that sort of reasoning. It's an idea that's been around since ancient times.

Sorawo also goes on to mention that in some situations, the atmosphere can be overwritten, but in others, these attempts only reinforce it more strongly.

The thing about ghost stories is that for all its other indiscretions, it's an elegant genre in strange ways. There's not a lot of bawdy stories in it. Maybe that's because if you're trying to scare someone, and then sexual elements get involved, it hurts the atmosphere. Anyway, I only brought up the sex stuff as an example of how the atmosphere can get changed. It's too weak to be her weakness. There's some real nasty ghost stories with sexual elements, and there are people who've had scary experiences at love hotels.

All of these concepts start to interweave with one another when the two relocate to Toriko's bedroom. Sorawo immediately notices a change in Toriko's demeanor.

Her expression looked uneasy, without composure. She wanted me, but also feared rejection. Despite the way she'd been breathing heavily through her nose as she led me here by the hand, now Toriko was just standing there awkwardly. As if once she'd dragged me into her room she didn't know what to do anymore. Maybe as we entered what remained of the domain of the living inside this house of the dead, Toriko had come back to life.

This scene firmly links Toriko's fear of the Otherside (death) to Sorawo's fear of the Otherside (relationships). In her moms' bedroom, Toriko had been demanding, frustrated, and angry - the malicious emotional states traditionally occupied by spirits in ghost stories! However, she settles down when she enters her own bedroom. For Sorawo, passing through this interface changes Toriko from an unknowable force who inspires fear into a very human entity with whom she can sit down and discuss the uncomfortable topic of sex. In turn, this allows Toriko to an explore an aspect of their relationship that she views as fundamentally life-affirming. After this scene their Othersides are no longer totally different, or inspire mind-numbing terror, but are now operating on a common logic.

The concept of an atmosphere comes up again just after their first try at sex. Toriko has finally found a turn-on for Sorawo, and Sorawo describes the feeling in the same analytical voice she uses for ghost stories.

Until mere moments ago, our nakedness had been no more than that. Just another awkward state of undress, like when we got in the bath. Not anymore. My nudity, and Toriko's, took on entirely new meaning. One little switch inside of me got flipped, and it caused a startlingly dramatic change in my perception. It was mystifying how, as that change occurred, it swallowed up the entire atmosphere of the scene, including Toriko. Stuff like this can happen... I thought in a daze. The room was dominated by my lust which had suddenly materialized. As it overlapped with Toriko's desire, the atmosphere inside the room became something kind of extraordinary.

Prior to their second go at sex, Sorawo and Toriko take a moment to talk over their last remaining fears about sex - using their Otherside-altered body parts on one another. They come to the mutual realization that they have both been afraid of harming one another, but not of being harmed by the other. This last discussion is important, because it totally diffuses their fears around sexuality prior to indulging it. So as they travel into the deepest reaches of the Otherside, they have total trust and intimacy with one another - and an absolute lack of fear relating to what the Otherside represents to them.

The color of the calm world was blue. As we whorled together, intertwining, the ultrablue abyss spread out endlessly beneath us. We didn't fear it. Because this was our place. No one was watching us. No one knew we were here. We were the only ones watching, and the only ones who knew. So the only things Toriko and I have to fear are each other.

"Was it just me who wasn't that scared?" "Nah, it was the same for me. Everything around us was blue, but it wasn't scary." "I wonder why?" "I dunno, maybe because we were on the side that scared people?" Toriko got a mystified look on her face when I said that. "The side that scared people? You mean the Otherside's side?" "We weren't human anymore, were we, Toriko? When we were there." "...Yeah." Toriko suddenly moved closer to me and chomped down on my ear.

So to bring this full circle, this is why I love this particular easter egg, and Otherside Picnic in general. The setting is treated as an important aspect of the story, and it is carefully chosen for its emotional content and thematic relevance. Toriko's apartment isn't just some random place in an upscale neighborhood of Tokyo. It's a fundamental part of who Toriko is as a person. It's a location that lends a huge amount of thematic subtext to Otherside Picnic as a relationship story, and to the reader's interpretation of the Otherside.

Is it a metaphor for death? For queerness? For our ability to truly bridge the gap in understanding between self and non-self? The reader is invited to imitate Sorawo, and in doing so, finds a treasure trove of understanding. The little rush of discovery shows us what keeps Sorawo interested in exploring a totally alien world and trying to understand its workings.

Miyazawa's writing actively rewards readers for engaging with every little bit of the story, and it really tickles the analytical part of my brain.

[dior-luxury]

I read that fic about reader telling some twst boys they're prettier than Vil and I'm living for it! Could I have the same concept but with ADeuce, Epel, Trey, and Malleus? Thnx!

More Pretty Than The Queen

( ✧ ) ────── 𝐛𝐨𝐲𝐟𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐝 𝐬𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐬 . 𝐝𝐫𝐚𝐦𝐚 - 𝐬𝐡𝐞/𝐡𝐞𝐫 .

- [𝐜𝐡.] ace trappola . deuce spade . epel felmier . trey clover . malleus draconia - [𝐩:𝐬] none!

#Ace Trappola

Ace would be the same way when receiving compliments, except he mostly acts as if he knows already. He only does that to try to make him look cool in your eyes.

But when Ace uses that method, he says it in a way that could shatter your interest in him; or at least that could go one way.

The other version of how this whole idea would go is, You would randomly say it catching him by surprise.

"Could you repeat that?" He says with a slight tone of sarcasm.

He patiently waits for your response as he tries to hold in his laughter.

One of Ace´s basketball games ended with a rival school, who we´ll say is RSA. He lets out a huge sigh of relief as he makes his way to one of the benches, that´s right in front of where you sitting.

He opens his eyes wide open as he stops in front of the bench to see you sitting on the bottom column right in front of him. A wide grin spreading on his face, ¨Did you see me out there Y/N? I was cool right?¨

You nod as you pay your attention to his hair, ¨Y/N~ Why are you looking at my hair-¨

¨ I think I like this hairstyle way better. Makes you look hotter than Vil no?¨

An annoying grin comes up onto his face, as he leans closer to your face, leaving only inches apart. He crosses his arms locking his eyes with you.

¨ Y/N- I- You're suddenly in a flirty mood today huh?" A red hue covers his face as he realizes the closeness between you two.

#Deuce Spade

Deuce generally has never really comprehended how to act after someone just complimented him. He only usually accepts them with an unsure smile on his face.

His heart nearly stops as you utter the most breathtaking compliment.

-

It was the end of the first period as you look at the clock. You’re so wrapped up in your thoughts that you’re surprised when you hear someone shout your name.

"Y/N are you coming?" Deuce says as he stops mid-way from getting up from his chair.

"Oh yeah- Sorry." The both of you walk out of the classroom and you stare at Deuce in awe.

"Have you gotten prettier? I swear... you're more pretty than Vil."

"I-I don't think so."

He looks to the side as a red hue spreads on his face, "But if you say it... I might believe it."

#Epel Felmier

Epel probably handles compliments depending on his surroundings.

For Example: In the vicinity of the Pomefiore dorm he would try and be as masculine as possible because, a) vil could be near and he doesn't want to be seen as weak by him, or b) there are too many people starring at the two of you.

-

A pink hue of blushes covers his whole face, to the point where his skin tone turns into a light shade of pink. An uneasy smile puts together all his cute features.

Widened aqua-blue eyes look at you in shock as he blanks out, every single part of his body freezes in place. It took some words from your mouth to get Epel out of this state.

As he gets out of this embarrassing state he's in, he folds his hand in a tight fist alongside his chest area. Instead, a stern and serious face gathers on his features.

Blush still is formed around his face as he then scrunches his eyebrows, suddenly trying to look all tough-looking and masculine.

He can't let himself look all weak! What if Vil's around? He can't let himself be a scene in this state, he's trying to prove he's not weak to him y'know!

He's broken out of his wondering state of thinking as he's met with your confused eyes. Epel breaks out into a mini-state of panic as he realizes how wrong he came off.

"Th-Thank you for your compliment Y/N, it's my fault for expressing my emotions in a.. confusing way!" He exclaims as he quickly breathes in, bowing to you with a hand over his chest.

"I'm glad you think I'm more handsome than Vil!!" Epel's voice sounds like he's almost screaming from the amount of passion in his voice.

#Trey Clover

Trey is taken back for sure, him? More handsome and prettier than Vil? Why he doesn't know if he could believe that if he tried!

You reassure him that what he just heard was correct, he's a shy-stuttering mess. Trey thinks of himself as a completely average guy with average looks, not anything close to the image of Vil Schoenheit.

-

He tries to choke out words from his mouth, but his racing heart says otherwise. Someone needs to make sure Trey doesn't have a heart attack from how fact his heart is going.

Trey chokes out a rushed 'thank you' as he tries to calm down his pulsating heart.

His hand clenches his chest as sweat drips down his rose-colored face.

"Y/N, you said that so suddenly, once again thank you, darling."

#Malleus Draconia

Argue all you want with me but... Malleus can be cocky from any sort of affection you try and give him. (⌒▽⌒)♡

He finds it mostly amusing and endearing how you think of him in those ways.

Malleus can't help that he thinks you are the cutest when you come up to him and say it directly to his face. His light up in such curiosity, he's glad to inspect such an interesting person.

A smile appears on his lips as a warm atmosphere drifts around the air. More handsome than thee 'Vil Schoenheit' huh? It flatters him, to say the least.

His eyes gleam with such flirty intent, he then puts his finger under your chin and lifts your head.

"Y/N~ Child of man, you wanna repeat that?"

A cocky smile forms on his lips as he stares at you with narrow eyes, waiting for your answer.

"Just going to stay silent huh? Fair. Now come, I want you to show me how much you think of how pretty am I~"

[thegrimreaper-probably]

plz more of gravity falls x plant monster user, maybe include some weird cult that worships user like a god? a name for user like "Venus" from the venus flytrap, or Primula, it comes from the Latin word for Daisy, or straight up Audrey the second, lil reference to the little shop of horrors, and it makes reference for how mabel placed a sticker on their pot? user getting accidentally sold to a random kid (guess who sold them) and maybe...user learning to swear by (guess who again) but PLEASE, I NEED MOREEEEEEEEE

Gravity falls x plant monster reader part three

Mainly your relationship with Stanley

(Don’t need to read all of them to understand) Gender is once again not a concept for alien plant. It/they/she/he

Imma be so honest I wrote an entire thing, hated it and everything I tried made it worse. So I scrapped it and now it’s late, my bad.

This is set in the past, so before the twins. During and after the portal.

A lot and I mean a lot has happened in the last month. First Ford and FiddleFord, broke up. As lab partners, not as boyfriends. I may be an evil plant from outer space but cheating is wrong, eating people isn’t. Those two were as queer as Orin Scrivello D.D.S. was addicted to laughing gas.

Now Ford is going crazy, or Bill is? It’s rather complicated. Ford shut down the portal, something about how Bill wanted world domination. I could’ve told you that, I mean why else would I be here if world domination wasn’t possible with these two? Anyways currently Bill or more accurately Bill possessing Ford is punching the door to the basement.

“Does he remember any of this?” Bill stops and turns to me.

“Not a single memory, why? You got something Twoey?” Where did Twoey come from? Bill refuses to use the name Ford gave me.

“You let me in on world domination, I let you in downstairs.” He blinks, similar to a frog.

“Just gotta feed me so I can slip under the gap.” My vine points to the bottom of the door.

“I got plans for you, Sixer will give up soon.” And that was the second to last time I saw him. After that he possessed Ford and brought me along. I’m deeply traumatized seeing a shirtless Ford rolling around and eating spiders. I didn’t need to see any of that or be apart of a tramp stamp tattoo session.

Ford had gone crazy and I was well, mainly hungry but I guess…lonely. There was no FiddleFord to scare, no more experiment to see what I could do, no more music around, and no Ford to learn from. Bill wasn’t any better, that man was acting like a teenager going through a break up.

And eventually things happened, Stanley, Ford’s twin brother, had came to the house. You know the rest, and I ain’t gonna talk about it.

“Mullet!” Stan drops his beer on the ground, it shatters on the floor. He looks up at me and pauses.

“You- you can talk?”

“You see anyone else here? No? Then yes I can talk, do much more then talkin’ tell ya that much. This?” I move my vine to point at the window. “Sunlight, it ain’t enough, I need food. So either you feed me or I feed on you.”

“How much did I drink?”

“If I didn’t need ya I’d drain ya dry. Go grab that book got the number 1 on it. Got it or do I gotta dumb it down for you mullet boy?” He nods and turns to leave then pauses.

“I’m doing this for Ford, not you.” Stan leaves and that was the start of mullet boy’s identity theft of Stanford Pines. It was mainly just him questioning his own or his brother’s life choices, coupled with drinking, smoking, and crime.

There were moments where he’d bring me downstairs and it wasn’t so lonely.

“None of this makes senses, what is wrong with-.”

“It stands for e.” I point to the symbol.

“You know the rest?”

“You find e you find the rest easy.”

Or

“I just got him back, I can’t lose him again.”

I don’t answer for a bit I move my vines, like how Ford would fidget with his own. “He was already lost, a long time ago.“

“I could’ve help him if he just-.”

“You couldn’t.”

“Why didn’t he just call me before this?”

“You know the answer, you just refuse to accept that, that’s the answer. It’s not satisfying, human rarely are.”

Others where I learned more about English, one of the many human languages.

“Son of a bitch, what the hell?!” Stan yelled when I first nipped him.

“These shitheads don’t know anything about marriage, it’s a scam.” Stan says as the tv plays some awful movie.

“Where the fuck is it?” Stans asks as he looks for a wrench. And much more as life went on, with many other stories to go along with them.

Was a few times where he’d fall asleep and I could easily drain him. I didn’t though, as stupid as it was, Stan was my key to opening that portal again…for world domination of course. Over the years he became more of a con man and the house became a tourist trap. While he would still work on the portal, the basement wasn’t a room I could survive in. So I got put upstairs in the window.

Where I met little tiny Soos, now my hatred for kids and human kind was very much strong. This kid was cute enough to eat, not that I’m picky. Soos had soon started to work at the shack, where I tried to eat him.

“Mr. Pines? I fixed the-.” I go to eat him and Stan throws his cane at me.

“There was a- uh- bug. Go back to work I ain’t paying ya to talk.”

“Okay Mr. Pines!” Soos walks off and Stan looks back at me. I smile and a customer walks in.

“Can I buy that?” The man points to me, Stan smirks and hands me over.

“$500. New species, called Spatium Praereptor.” 500?! What am I? A Monstera Deliciosa?

“Fine.” He hands Stan the money and Stan gives him me. I move my vines around to look like I’m sticking a middle finger up. He does it back and the guy puts me in his car.

Come to find out I was joining a cult. Cult? Religion? Who cares? Only downside was I was not being praised but killed by some stupid blind eyes meatheads. Sometime between eating people and throwing them Stan somehow found me and brought me back. Stan was reckless, irresponsible, a con man, gross, and a loser.

Though he was my friend, and I will still have world domination even if I care for two humans. Just cause I like two people doesn’t mean I’m soft. Shut up.

[princelylove]

Creep yanderes that just won't. stop. messaging you.

They just don't let up. Message after message after message of utter nonsense- it used to make sense. In the beginning, it was just double texting. Texts asking what you're doing, if you want to play a game with them, when's the next time you two can do something together, hey look an instagram reel or tiktok about some running joke you have together, or a funny tweet.

When you keep rejecting them, maybe even non intentionally, they start to get more passive aggressive. Why don't you ever want to talk to them anymore? Why are you acting this way? Did they do something, are you mad at them?

It's kind of insane how the same person can send a bunch of heart emojis and a "I fucking hate you you're a stupid whore" message in the same day. It's pure delusion. Your lack of a response allows them to project whatever thoughts they want to- if they're insecure, you obviously hate them and they're not enough and you should just block them already. If they tend to project, you're such a dumb whore that can't get somebody's dick out of your mouth for five seconds to answer them. It depends on the individual.

This concept reminds me of Pesci, Pesci, Pesci. He's worse than Ghiaccio. At least Ghiaccio has a sense of pride and boundaries- Pesci is about thiiis close from snapping on the daily and flat out killing his darling in a moment of passion.

He gets insecure fast. Well, "getting" insecure suggests that he was ever secure. Pesci is constantly comparing himself to the people he's closest to- Prosciutto, mainly. He misses the point of Prosciutto's philosophy entirely because he's fixated on what Prosciutto is to him instead of what he actually is.

Pesci is very pathetic. No matter what he does, he'll never be Prosciutto. He's just not the same kind of man. Not the type man to not fret about getting a text back, not the type of man to love his own reflection and check himself out every time he passes something shiny, not the type of man to just do what he wants and worry about consequences later, or never.

He's not really a texter- he's more of a an 'in your face, exhibiting worrying behaviors' type of nice guy. He psychs himself up to actually show up at your apartment but worries all the way up the stairs. Pesci is in a constant state of distress until he manages to shift his mindset. It's like a switch. A switch that's hard to break out of once he's in.

A mindset that doesn't mind breaking your front door, because mafiosi take what they want.

Not to mention someone like Hazamada. It's too obvious to be enjoyable, isn't it? He fantasizes about raping his classmate but he's too much of a pussy to do it, he gets into heated arguments about his favorite idols and anime in canon (if I'm remembering correctly, I don't pay attention to short 'men' often). He has the set up for this specific type of creep. It's a shame he's such a coward about it. And everything else.

Not on the phone, though. Or online in general. The beauty of going on anon, you can send whatever you want and never have to see the consequences for it. Not man enough to flat out tell you he's interested, not man enough to confront you about your "other" boyfriends, he's not even man enough to defend his own interests under his own name. None of his accounts have anything personal tied to it, he'll even use an alternate email to sign up.

He'll just keep buying burner phones to text you when he needs to get something off of his chest. Your outfit looked great today. He knows it's a uniform, but the way you wear it is adorable. He hates your friends. They're ditzy bimbos that are ruining you by association. Why don't you watch anything he likes? Your interests are trash, you should check out peak for once.

Josuke is a serial text spammer, but he doesn't quite fall into the 'nice guy' territory. He doesn't blame you for anything, but he does not respect your do not disturb, so it's yes and no.

It's debatable. Josuke doesn't say things that could be taken as insults, he'd never go for you personally when he's pissed off, but he's known to be a little passive aggressive in person. His texts are seemingly innocent enough- memes, tiktoks, asking what you're doing later, telling you he misses you, sending you something he thinks you'd like, picture of what he's doing, picture of something that was deep in his camera roll that he 'forgot' to send you a while ago. He hits your interrupt do not disturb button as a joke.

Heeey, it's super serious. It deserves to interrupt your whatever-you're-doing. Look, it's a fat baby animal. What are you doing, again? Why's your location off? You okay?

[tyrantisterror]

While we’re on the subject of characters who “make you truly question makes one villainous”, what do you think of the take that villains, or at least ‘true’ villains, shouldn’t be sympathetic at all. That villains should simply be motivated by petty selfishness and cruelty. On one hand, that doesn’t sound like it makes for compelling stories, but on the other… most real-life villains really are motivated by nothing but greed and selfishness. And gain power by making people sympathize with them.

"Villain" is a word that has a lot of nuance to it that people in turn tend to overlook in favor of reducing it to "the guy it's ok to hate." "Antagonist" has the same problem, perhaps even worse, but that's another conversation.

Definitions don't help because more often than not they end up being intensely reductive of the broad scope of meanings the word has - again, another word with a similar problem in this regard is "monster," which can mean a bunch of a very different things that are all nonetheless recognizable by bearing some element of "monstrosity" to them.

So, like, one valid definition of villain is "an evil and unsympathetic character the audience is meant to hate." And I imagine if you gave that definition to most people, they'd agree - until you get to sympathetic characters who are still unmistakably villains. Like, would anyone say the word "villain" shouldn't include people like Doctor Octopus in Spider-Man II, or Mr. Freeze in Batman the Animated Series? Is Shakespeare's Macbeth excluded from the realm of villains because the play hinges on us finding ways to sympathize with him despite the horrific evil of his actions? Is Milton's Satan, perhaps the most iconic take on The Devil Himself, excluded from the conversation because Milton gave him pathos?

Villainy can be about the nature of your actions, and it can be about your relationship with society, and it can be about your choice of fashion and hobbies. It can be all of these things or none of them. Villainy is a form of being othered, one that has so many tropes attached to it and folded under it that the aesthetics of it can be divorced from the morality assigned to them easily. Villainy is so vast and complex a concept that a story can analyze it from a dozen different angels and still not capture the full scope of it.

Or, as one movie on the subject put it so succinctly:

It's about presentation.

As a writer and a reader of fiction, I love looking at time-tested tropes from a lot of different angles, and prying them apart to see how they work, and then seeing how far they can bend and twist until they break and become something else. I think locking yourself into one simple definition of what a villain can be is very limiting, creatively speaking, and think it's far more interesting to explore the concept from different angles. There's room for simple, pure evil bastards, sure, but there's also room for multifaceted evils, or characters will all the trappings of a villain but actions that ultimately speak to a nobility of spirit others have overlooked. The complexity of the trope is beautiful, why not explore it?

[kachowden]

okok headcanons for Loren do with them what u may:

Loren LOVES having his hair touched in any capacity- head pats, scritches, pulling, he’ll take it all. he relishes in the feeling of darling using his hair to jerk him around.

he def memorized darling’s schedule so if darling has night classes or is out late, you can bet Loren is no more than a dozen yards away making sure they get home safe. he’s definitely taken out more than his share of ill-intentioned strangers, likely with darling none the wiser…

idk if this has been addressed before but i feel like Loren isn’t the most booksmart, like just your typical himbo level of dumb- and maybe he seeks tutoring or something from darling, or he just marvels at their basic knowledge like they’re Chomsky

Loren is really proud of his body but he gets incredibly flustered anytime darling so much as acknowledges his muscles or stature- or maybe he even wishes he were smaller than darling so he could constantly be below them

he for sure spies on darling in their dorm, but i think he feels kinda guilty about it. he knows it’s an invasion of their privacy but he just can’t help himself. he definitely has pics/vids of darling sleeping that he looks at every night before bed

i’m probably gonna send in more when they assault my brain later anyway i’m in love with ur writing and thank u for keeping us fed

I didn’t touch on this fully, but Loren isn’t actually a true Himbo. His brother is more accurately one.

Loren tries to do well in school, and at most he does pretty average so yes he does seek out Darling to tutor him.

I also love the concept of Loren being a guilty Yandere. He hates that he can’t stop himself from trailing after you, from breaking into your apartment and stealing your clothes from lockers and using them when he can’t stop himself from thinking about you in the late hours of the night.

There’s actually an unfinished draft that further elaborates on his uh borrowing habits. A chewed on pencil found it’s way into his pocket after a little argument between the two of you.

[sadnightforus]

YOU MIGHT BE SLEEPING  (LJY)

biker boyfriend!juyeon x gn!reader

SYNOPSIS: In an attempt to surprise you for the 500 days anniversary, he took you on a ride to his favorite places that are far away from the city, after various complaints from you that you found nothing to do in Seoul. 

WORD COUNT: 3.9K

WARNINGS: none… we reached this point guys (besides the mentioning of Eric being a super rich guy that’s all). too much fluff *insert the crying waterfall emoji because normal emoji does not cut it* 

A/N: don’t know if y’all know this but I was inspired by that one particular fanmade video. the og concept was supposed to have a bad boy vibe but he looks too good in that middle pic so I have to comply with this one instead. so cute, I’m kicking my feet fr. also omg full on fluffy soft fic from me??? I Will Die. 😭😭😭

ALSO THIS IS THE FANMADE VID. 

reblogs, comments and likes are appreciated!

You’re bored of Seoul. 

 Don’t get it wrong, you don’t hate the city at all. But Seoul always has something going on. The streets look amazing during the day and night and there’s modern technology everywhere. Everything seems so fancy and lavish. You’re proud of how far the world has come. 

 Even though it’s incredibly hard to earn a quiet time for yourself since it’s a really busy city and if you want complete silence, you have to block out their own voices. It’s hard to ignore the presence of others when there are loud noises and so many people at once. 

 However, for you, it’s also the city of love.

 You met Juyeon when you both first enrolled into the same college and happened to closely share a semester together due to the duo group work your professor was making you do (and the deadline was well over 2 weeks). Those 2 weeks were blissful, you used to think he was a bit cold and even more so, a bit too full of himself, since he is immediately dubbed as ‘the dancing prince’ and he hangs out with the popular crowd. But your first impressions didn’t matter because he was incredibly nice and polite, and was so helpful when helping you with the project too, be it ideas or just offering to take places in completing the work. And you both ended up getting an A due to the outstanding efforts you put into your work, which you have to thank your amazing partner for. 

 And after the project ended, he still keeps in contact with you, insisting that you’re quite an interesting individual to know and hope to develop a further friendship. A total lie from him because he later admitted that when you both got into a relationship with the saying that by then, he already liked you and he just wanted to see if he has a chance with you. 

 Now back to the present. 

 It’s Saturday and you both are on a semester break. You live with your roommate/coworker and she’s off to work already, leaving you alone in this apartment as it’s your day off today. You were cleaning up your room and wiping off the dust off the furniture when suddenly you received a phone call. You look at your caller ID and you can’t help but smile when you see who it is. 

 So you pick up, pausing your cleaning process so you can talk to him just a little bit. 

“Hi, my pretty baby.” 

 That name never fails to flatter you and make your heart jump out of your chest. 

“Hey there, pretty boy.” 

 You think you do a pretty job concealing your flustered face and tone (rightfully, sue him for reducing you into a mushy lover). Otherwise, you would’ve been so embarrassed if he knew he had done irreversible damage to you. 

“You don’t have any plans for anything today, right?” 

“Why? You wanna take me to one of Eric’s father’s fancy restaurants?” 

“Great idea, actually.” He laughs, humoring you along. It’s no secret that Juyeon loves spoiling you. He had a hard exterior, according to all of your friends and you yourself. But when you guys began dating, they were subjected to the PDA between you two and their opinions on him quickly changed because just who is this guy? And plus, he also likes to take you on a new adventure. 

 Somehow, it makes you feel like a naïve teenage girl who’s dating a bad boy and you always wanted to ask him if he is truly one (even if you know he works part-time as a barista for his parents’ café shop). It’s hard to believe that someone as perfect as him can possibly exist. It’s unbelievable. 

“I was wondering if you’d like to join me for today's exploring.” He shyly explains and you can feel his shy smile tugs through his tone. What have you done in your past life to get a guy like him wrapped around your finger? Whatever you were doing, you’ve done it right. 

“If it’s Seoul, I’ve practically walked through every shady alleyway. It’s no fun.” You whine, your wet cloth cleaning off the dust is long forgotten amidst the phone call between you and your lover. 

“It’s not Seoul. I wanna take you somewhere else.” He keeps it vague and you suspect that he has a surprise for you. 

“Okay, let me clean myself up a bit.” You exclaim, putting down the wet cloth and hanging it up to dry from your bedroom (in your defense, it’s not dirty at all. You have a habit of wiping off your dust often and you definitely don’t have enough time in your hand to clean it right now). 

“Can you pick me up in an hour and a half?” You ask him, strutting around in your room to go to your bathroom to freshen yourself up. 

“You can still show up in sweats and I’d still think you’re the most beautiful person I’ve ever seen.” He says, means every single word of it because he thinks you’re pretty. So goddamn pretty he loses his mind over you and he doesn’t believe that he’s the one who gets to have you all the time. 

“Lee Juyeon, shut up. I think I stink. Do you honestly like it when I’m sweating like a dog?” You make a gagging face while you’re putting on your cleansing foam. 

“The sweats can’t wipe away your beauty.” His reply makes you want to bang your head into the wall so bad. 

 God, he’s such a romantic. 

“I’m showering. You can save that sappiness when you pick me up later.” You furiously blush, trying to get him to end the call so you can get ready to go wherever he leads you to. 

“I’ll see you later then, baby.” 

 And the line is disconnected. 

 You sulk a bit before putting your device back as you snap back to reality. But you’re also beyond excited where he will take you to today. 

 So you divert your attention back onto getting ready and hoping that the new things you’ve been wanting to try out will work. 

“You look absolutely breathtaking.” Is the first thing Juyeon says after he comes to pick you up. 

 You decide to wear a black big cozy jacket, combined with black jeans and white shirt, which goes with his similar casual wear that he chooses. 

 There’s a spark in his eyes as he scams your whole body. A boyish smile yet so much of a shyness ticks behind that expression. He hands you a helmet, to which you still remember that the particular item is a gift from his dad who bought motorcycle tools equipment as a present for his 19th birthday and that includes the helmet you’re holding in your hand. You check to see if it has been unlocked yet. Once you see that it does, you quickly put it on your head, adjusting it properly before locking it and you gently hop onto the vehicle, excited for the ride.

“Are you ready?” He asks, wanting to make sure that you’re seating yourself comfortably before the motorcycle takes off.

“I’m all done.”

 And you hear the engine takes off, as the vehicle takes both of you far away from your place.

 The air feels fresher than usual, the atmosphere and the feelings remind you of the old Hong Kong movies you used to watch with your friends as a teenager. You always dream of doing something wild and adventurous to feel the essence of the ‘neon & loneliness’— something that has been used to precisely describe those types of movies. And now it’s like you’re living your dreams out. 

 If it’s a dream then you don’t want to wake up from it. 

 His soft woody cologne that radiates from his body all makes you feel like everything is in a daze and you’re the main protagonist of those films that you always loved. How did you get so lucky? 

 The motor is being driven further away from the city and you’ve crossed numerous luxurious stores and fancy places as you hold on tight to your lover. You’ve seen different kinds of people today; the sad, the happy, the singles, the couples, the divorced, the kids, teenagers, adults and you think you might’ve driven past celebrities by accident too. 

 Your eyes are trained to watch the road and take your worries off the daily life you’re experiencing today. You think though, instead, it’s making you realize something very precious about life. 

 People can be in a state of anything, regardless of their age. And they’re diverse, they have something to tell. Behind every person, there’s a story that is waiting for a person to uncover those. Uncover the deepest, best and worst parts of themselves. 

 You think you’re lucky that your boyfriend is the most gentle and caring person who always brings out the best part of yourself. Never once had you ever felt as if you were held back or restricted from good opportunities. He always encourages you to chase after your dream, while he steadily works towards his goal. 

 The short breeze through the city now has long escaped. You both are going somewhere unfamiliar, although you’re not sure how exactly familiar he is with where he plans to take you. However, you know better than to doubt him when he is quite literally the very same person with a really great taste in everything.

 Your thoughts do eventually come to a stop as he drives to a gas station and by that time, it’s around 3 and a half in the afternoon. The vehicle’s engine is no longer running after he shuts the power off and you know it’s time you get off the bike.

“I’d like to fill in the tank please.” Is what he says. His honey voice, ever so softly, makes you wonder how people aren’t falling for him already. The staff comes to him immediately and helps fill in the gas as per request. 

“Do you want to buy something?” He turns to ask you. “Or do you need to use the bathroom?”

“Not really.” You respond as you shake your head.

 You both stand while waiting for them to pump the gas and calculate the bill. And when you both are done, he gears up the vehicle to signal that the adventure is nowhere done. You hop on it, excited to see what will be waiting for you.

 You both leave the place, 

 Your boyfriend’s scent soon lures you to sleep, with you being barely able to open your eyes. It hasn’t been that long that you fall asleep together with him, but you both are somehow always away with the college assignments and personal workloads that are being dumped on you. Having him really close for the first time in 3 weeks does nothing but really makes you want to rest up.

 And you think to yourself, hmm, screw that. He’ll wake me up when we arrive at the place.

 Then you lay your head and close eyes as you feel yourself drifting further away to the dreamland that has been long awaited for you.

 You woke up once you felt like you were being carried.

 You didn’t register it until you felt the abnormality of the said body pillow that you’ve been resting on start moving up and going even gradually higher. It’s only then that you open your eyes, consciousness not fully hitting you yet as your exhaustion keeps luring you to the dreamland. However, since you don’t have such a habit of sleeping when you are being moved around, you try your very best to open your eyes and pray that the sunlight will hit your eyes, although it’s unlikely as the sky beams with the color of soft orange and yellow, like a beautiful fire in flames.

“Ju-”

“Shh, baby. Just sleep.” He shushes you, continuing to give you a piggyback ride. You immediately protest and almost go feral and also, almost cause a disturbance to him too.

“I’m wide awake, you can put me down and I can walk.” 

“Nice try, but no.” He chuckles and you can already imagine the most annoying yet such a beautifully crafted boyish grin plastered all over his face. He’s lovely– that’s just who he is.

“But where are you taking me?” You ask, eyes now can’t close on their own as your sleepiness already wears off from talking earlier.

“You’ll see.”

 And several minutes later, you both reach a part of a town that you’re sure has never been here before. He seems to be lost, with the way he hesitates to take a step further as he walks. 

“But Ju…” You whine. “Can’t you tell where you’re going?” You plead for him to give an answer, you so badly wanted to know what place he will show you this time. 

“Nuh uh.” He shakes his head a bit, still insisting on being mysterious and vague with the direction you’re heading. 

“But will you put me down? It’s uncomfortable being carried when I’m like, awake.” You complain and he finally gives in, sighing as he puts you down and you almost stumble forward and fall as the gravity feels new to you and if your boyfriend wasn’t there to catch you at all, you’d certainly slip by now. 

“Thank you.” You mumble out. 

“You good to go?” He asks, offering you his hand to hold as you busk in a new, unfamiliar place together. His eyes sparkle up, light of hope and love, so much adoration stores up in a gaze of his that belongs to a person that you’re proud to call him yours. 

 You’re losing track of yourself with the way you keep looking at him without a word, like a dumbfounded teenager that has no idea what they should do when they harbor romantic feelings towards their crush. But he lets you, until you gulp down to wet your throat and proceed with the next thing you’re going to say. 

“Yes.” You have a dopey smile on your face. “I can’t wait.”

 And you both take one step, two steps and more steps forward. Until you get inside the mysterious building. 

 Your boyfriend is not a man of many words, but his actions are always sincere. When he speaks, he always expresses his love for you. 

 You can even say that in almost two years of your relationship, you never have to doubt his feelings for you. That’s just how transparent he is. You don’t think you can find a greater love than him.

 With more steps further, you make it past the door and you see many abstract arts and paintings being hung, scattered all across the wall. Each frame and piece, colorfully coming together to make a piece of stories that is waiting to be told. The lines that piece it together, asymmetrically perfect in a way that it never seems to be out of place, although if you separate it, it wouldn’t make much sense to the naked eyes that only saw the remaining pieces and never get the chance to witness the beauty of the completion and harmony that lies in the form of crafts that you see with your own eyes. 

 Similarly, that’s how you feel about your boyfriend. 

 Not many people know him and you always had the impression that he was rather cold and closed off. That’s how he appears to the outsiders. The description of him from fellow classmates and his friends are drastically different because they never get to fully see what he is like as a person. 

 A person who is full of love to give to others, the one who dotes on others and is full of adventures. 

 Life with him is never boring, he brings a new kind of joy in your life. The kind of excitement that is dangerous, but you’ll let him lead you to go anywhere, even if it’s a thousand miles away. You trust him to keep you safe because never once had you been harmed or run into dangers.

 He instructs you to stand in front of him, you do so without a question. He pulls out a silky fabric and you already know what he wants to do– blindfolds you for the surprise. You let him as he carefully wraps the material around your eyes in a gentle manner to ensure that it doesn’t hurt you.

“Hold my hand and follow me.” He speaks to you softly and you nod your head. “I want to show you something.”

In a sight of darkness that is hard to break from, you let him guide you. He’s your light amongst all of this and you know he’ll never let you slip or stray away. With careful steps forwarding on the stairs and going up, further and further and then the floor feels smoother without the anxiety of reckoning,  it only takes a bit to finally realize you’re past the staircase.

 You feel like time freezes and you’re not sure how much time has passed by, although you think it’s not that much. It’s by far, the most anticipated thing for you. 

 Then you hold his hand tighter as he takes you in this unfamiliar place.

 You’re not the only one with so much adoration for your significant other. Your boyfriend is no different from you. 

 For Juyeon, being with you makes him feel like he’s in heaven. There’s no greater feeling than your presence around. 

 You heal a broken part of him that he didn’t know existed until you become the most cherished and frequent presence in his life, which is no doubt, loneliness.

 You’re calming, intelligent and intriguing. You’re an open book, but also, a mystery that he wants to keep uncover. He can lose himself in just studying about you and he wouldn’t care. You’re that someone to him who he trusts, with all of his life.

 When he inherited a motorcycle as a present from his parents in 11th grade, he usually rode it everywhere alone, even when he had friends. He discovered many fascinating locations, hearing every kind of life story from strangers whom he met on the road when he did his little exploring and witnessed people going through many stages of life. He used to watch people flirting and he wished that he had someone else to share his perspective and sightseeing with.

 You came along unexpectedly and stole his heart away. He can barely imagine a life without you now. The things you do to his heart is unhealthy. You’re the sole reason that his burning passion for life doesn’t become something he deeply despises. 

 The once cold seat of the motorcycle is now replaced by the warmth of you. And he wouldn’t want to have it in any other way. 

 He has seen many beautiful things that calm and heal his soul, but none of it were you.

 He thought beauty lies in the empty roads of complete darkness, or constellations and stars in the sky. But it’s clearly you, who is a Venus personified. 

 He’s in love and he’s not hiding it. 

 Which is why he wants to show you this view.

 By stopping in his track as he has reach the final destination, he reaches to slowly the blindfold off your eyes, all while tells you to still your eyes closed and only open under his command. 

 Both of you walk further and further away, with the help of Juyeon who guides you in the desired direction. Cold breeze hits you and you realize now that you’re most likely on the balcony and not in the secured walls of this building. 

“Open your eyes, baby.” 

 You let the light penetrate your vision as the skin that covers your seeing splits apart. 

 The view is breathtaking. 

 The sky turns into a light beat of deep orange, pale blue, deep pink and purple. You see the simplicity, the complexity and something so lively. 

 You see how the sky slowly turns itself into a pitch black, as the colors start to beautifully blend themselves, creating an unforgettable view that spreads through all across the universe from your own eyes. The wind blows slowly, as if to celebrate the magic of your shared happiness with him, which makes the moment even more unreal. 

 The lights that hang from there only intensifies its beauty. 

 You see polaroids of you both together being decorated, some you weren’t aware that the pictures were being taken. There are books and a table for dining that are put together like high end restaurants and you have no doubt that it wasn’t just a one day of work at all. 

“Happy 500 days anniversary.” He tells you, hand gently caressing you. “This house originally belonged to my grandpa. He has since passed it down to me.” He states so ever so softly and you’re shell shocked. 

“He told me that if I find someone special, I should bring them here. Because this house witnesses how my grandma and grandpa love each other and everyday is always special to them. For a long time, I didn’t understand what he meant because the idea of a lover that exists in a lonely person’s story doesn’t make sense. But I met you, my special person. I want this house to witness our love, too.” 

 You have tears brimming in your eyes as you listen to him speak further, all while his gaze lovingly settles on you and his thumbs wipe your tears. 

“I didn’t know what love was until I met you. When you’re away, I miss you. When you’re sleeping, I wish you’re awake so I can tell you some jokes that make you laugh.” 

“Me too.” You lose yourself into the warm brown eyes of his. “When I think about you, all my sadness disappears. It’s cliché, I know. But.. I think I’m so lucky to have you.” You choke on your own silent sob as he presses light kisses onto your lips.

“I’m so lucky to have you too.” He says truthfully. “I never believe in destiny, but I think we’re destined to love each other.” 

 And under the now moonlight that slowly shines onto you both, he cups your face and kisses you with all his might, as fireworks go off in the sky, as if to be a witness of this beautiful love story. 

 You don’t care for any of that as he whispers ‘I love you’ and you whisper one back too.

COPYRIGHTED BY SADNIGHTFORUS, 2023

[lostinforestbound]

Inspired by @slumpsnail 's piece of their Dark Rolan concept! Check out their other piece here!

The Rise or The Downfall of a Wizard's Apprentice?

CW: Blood, Death, Description of Breakdown

The first emotion was shock. Rolan couldn't move from his place on his knees as he watched his master clinging to whatever life he had left. His hands are stained red, settled on his lap while Lorroakan crawls to him, his own blood seeping onto the floor in rapid speed. Rolan can't recall what he did exactly, but it was during one of his usual beatings. Something about being a "failure" and "an idiot who deserved everything he gave to him". The memory is fuzzy now, he didn't even realize he stopped shaking from fear.

Lorroakan doesn't say anything, not that he could from the pain, but he looks fearful. A fear of death, perhaps? What a coward.

His mouth spits blood out, and he looks ready to beg. For mercy, Rolan hopes, because how humiliating would that be, for a master to beg for his life from his student?

His mentor doesn't get the chance before he stops moving, the life leaving his eyes, wide with a permanent terror. Rolan wonders if he's going to one of the Hells, his soul forever tortured.

After the initial shock dies down, he runs his hands down his face, uncaring of the blood trail he leaves on his bruised cheekbones as his eyes shine with glee. He killed Lorroakan, the Lorroakan, and yet he felt nothing but pure joy. Is this how Tav feels when they kill someone they hate? This addicting satisfaction that makes his blood rush with adrenaline?

By the gods, is he going insane? He can't find it in his heart to care, so he laughs.

He laughs and laughs, loud and prominent, echoing in the stillness of the room. What a fool he has been. Was it always this easy to kill someone? Does it matter now? It felt so fucking good. Even as he calms, his happiness still remains. In all honesty, he thought he could have died here. When he first struck his master, it was out of terror. He was going to beat him again, and he pleaded for him to stop. It didn't work, and when his teacher's staff raised once more, he held out his hands and- Bursting into a new, quiet giggle fit, he rests his head on his still-wet hand, staring down at the body with a smile. "Oh how the mighty have fallen, Master Lorroakan. Though, you were not mighty to begin with."

A small part of his breaking mind is screaming at him, wondering what in the hells has he done? What would Cal and Lia think if they saw him now, practically bathing in his master's blood? What would their mother think? What would they think when they realized he it enjoyed it?

It doesn't matter, they're all dead, including the man he once was.

He gets up on surprisingly steady feet, leaning down and grabbing Lorroakan's hair by the scalp, beginning to drag it towards the balcony. "Master Lorroakan, do you believe in karma?"

There is no response, but it's not as if he was expecting one. The body's getting cold.

"I'm not talking about you, oh no, I'm talking about yours truly." He says casually, grip tight. "My parents abandoned me, and when I get adopted into another one, their mother dies. Then The Descent, where I saw prowling devils and undead roam the streets, tearing people apart. When we finally escape, we're exiled by Elturel, our only home. When we finally make our trek to Baldur's Gate from a grove that hated us, Cal and Lia are eaten alive by shadows."

He finally reaches the railing, leaning against it to rest briefly. "Then, when I eagerly arrive to you with nothing, you beat me for saying the wrong answers to nonsensical questions. Yet look at you now."

Lifting the head to his face, he grins happily as he stares into the lifeless eyes of his mentor. "Master, I believe karma is finally on my side, after all this time. This tower is mine now," he snorts, trying not to laugh again, "I suppose I should thank you! None of this would have happened if it weren't for your weakness."

He picks up the body proper now, getting closer to the railing. "Goodbye, Master. I'm sure there's a special place in the afterlife, just for you."

Without thinking twice on it, he throws Lorroakan's body off the edge, watching it fall down the edge of the tower. He can't see the bottom from here, but he can't only imagine the body mangling as soon as it hits the ground. The people down below probably won't recognize who it is, but that doesn't matter.

All of this knowledge in the tower he now has access to, but where to start? He should probably clean all the blood but...no, he'll keep the stains there for a while longer, as a reminder of one of his greatest achievements.

A spineless wretch is what Lorroakan was. A pathetic, greedy human who wanted to keep this almost infinite knowledge and artifacts all to himself. Now it was all Rolan's, the new master of Ramazith's tower.

Master Rolan has a good ring to it, and he's too excited to get started on his infinite studies.

That's when he notices that dwarven man in the corner of the red stained room, shaking like a leaf. Another apprentice under Lorroakan. He saw everything. What was his name again? Ah, well...

He fires his magic missile in an instant, killing the man from where he stood with the brightest smile he's ever had in many years.

There cannot be witnesses, now can there?

Part 3

[shubblelive]

— EMPTY APARTMENTS

summary : wilbur gets to your apartment and finds you and all your belongings gone. you didn’t even say goodbye.

genre : angst -> fluff (“angst” might be a strong word)

warnings : sleep depravation (it’s bed time, wil. you have school in the morning), swearing, wilbur almost has a panic attack

pairing : cc!wilbur soot x reader

pronouns : none (you/yours)

featuring : cc!wilbur soot, lovejoy (mentioned)

word count : 987

note : i'm not the proudest of this, but here you go anyway.

Wilbur hadn’t slept in days. 

It had been a lot, all at once, and he was struggling. He had just got back from America and Dave was already discussing another tour after their next single. He loved travelling and performing; it was what he was meant to be doing. Hearing people scream his silly little lyrics back at him while practically high on adrenaline was a feeling Wilbur wouldn’t be able to replicate with a million streams (as much as he loved them). 

He’d been overwhelmingly anxious in a way that couldn’t be halted by breathing techniques, but he would try his best. Part of it was flying, which he knew shouldn’t have been an active issue given that the song wasn’t even finished yet. What they had been performing was about 90% complete, and another thing giving him grief was wondering whether people would like it. It was different from his first two EPs, and Wilbur knew even the most loyal of fan bases could hate songs. 

That, combined with his hair being everywhere, wasn’t even the cause of the gnawing feeling in his abdomen. That one was simple, and he knew it couldn’t be solved. He missed you.

The tour had been short and he didn’t remember most of it, but he remembered hardly being able to sleep without the feeling of you on top of his left arm. It was worse when he was in the US, and he couldn’t even call you before bed. Of course, he was back now, and he’d been smothering you in affection to the point where you’d had to beg him to let you go and film.

He had been at the studio all day working on the rest of the EP; Wilbur had grown frustrated with just working on that one song when it clearly wasn’t sounding right. It was almost there, but it consumed his every waking moment and he needed a break. Whether it was the song itself, or the music video, or the concept art. The whole thing was just hurting his head, and the feeling was getting worse. 

His eyes were heavy in the taxi ride home, and he’d fought the urge to fall asleep. He was heading for your flat; it was closer. He had a certain paranoia since he’d gotten more known about people knowing where he lived, so he always gave them a random address near where he lived but far enough away that it eased his anxieties. Trudging down the street, drops of rainwater in his hair, he pulled up your texts.

I’ll see you tonight, love, he’d sent early that morning. Yours or mine?

Ha, you had replied.

He pulled out his keyring, finding the key to your place that he’d held onto since forever. It stuck in the lock, like it always did and he closed his eyes as he turned the knob, dropping the keys into the bowl with a clatter and turning on the lights.

The flat was empty. There was still furniture, but all your stuff was gone. His keys lay there lamely on the floor, he was so exhausted he hadn’t even realised you’d taken the end table. Your shelves were bare, the counters were empty; hell even your streaming setup was gone.

You’d left, and you hadn’t even told him.

Was it something he had done? How long had you been planning this? It wouldn’t have been hard to orchestrate, you’d spent most of your nights at his place recently. Where had you gone? Maybe he could find you. At the very least get some closure. 

He called you. Three times. His phone fell from his hand and he lent back against the door. You were the only thing that wasn’t causing him immense amounts of stress, and you were gone. There had been signs, surely. He hadn’t seen any, but there had to have been some.

Did he forget an anniversary? No, none that he could think of. Fuck. What had he done?

He couldn’t stay there, in your empty flat. It was too small, too full and too empty and he stumbled out, through the hallway, down the stairs and onto the street. It was late, the streets were nearly empty but it was too loud. The street lights flickered and Wilbur kicked a lampost. 

It didn’t move. How annoying. 

It took him nearly an hour to get home, somewhat because he continued to try and kick inanimate objects (mostly because he realised he forgot his phone and had to go back). This time, when he put his keys on the end table they fell resolutely onto the end table. 

He flicked the light switch. They turned off.

Why were they already on? Whatever, he probably left them on accidentally. He shed his coat, throwing it over the back of the couch and face-planting onto it. The cushion groans underneath him.

“You ‘right?” Your hand found its way into his hair and his breath was strong against your neck. “Will? Everything okay?”

“You weren’t there,” His voice broke. “I went to your apartment and all your stuff was gone.” His arms were wrapped around you so hard his knuckles were turning white. “I’m sorry, darling. I’m so sorry.” You could feel tears leaking onto your collarbone and you clutched him back.

“Are you alright? Have you still not been sleeping?” Your eyes, warm with concern, met him. “Will, love?”

“I’m sorry.” He kept repeating.

“We’re okay. I promise. I’m moving in here, remember?” your voice was soft, and he couldn’t stop crying.

“Fuck.” His eyes were clamped shut. “I’m sorry, I’m an idiot.”

“You need a break,” you corrected gently. “You’re overworking yourself, Wilbur.”

It took him a while to calm down, and soon he was nodding in your embrace. “Need you.” That night, Wilbur slept better than he had in months and in the morning you were still there. 

[anaer]

wip wednesday (august 21 24)

JJK Sukugo rated: dirty shameless smut

Satoru might be addicted to the way Sukuna fucks him. It feels like something he should be ashamed to admit, and maybe he would be if he’d ever familiarized himself with the concept of shame.

His fingers dig holes through tatami and the wood underneath both, and it takes every impossible effort inside of him to hold back the whine Sukuna tries to force out of him with each thrust. He doesn’t even rock back to meet them, long beyond that now. The only clear thought in his mind is need.

Truthfully, Satoru’s lost track of how long they’ve been at this. How many times Sukuna’s already come. How many times he himself hasn’t. Every part of his body is oversensitive. The faintest touch has him shuddering, gasping for air impossible to grasp. He’s hyperaware of Sukuna’s hands: on his hip, pinning his wrists, toying with nipples so raw he thinks they might bleed. Nothing touching his cock, but Satoru isn’t sure whether that’s a curse or a blessing.

It's not fast, the way Sukuna moves. Each thrust is measured – purposeful in its effort to take him apart. That cock pushes too deep inside of him, and Sukuna’s grinding hard against his sore hole. It takes a lot to make him hurt. It apparently takes Sukuna using him like his own personal plaything. Sweat rubs off his forehead onto the floor, and he can’t stop the whimper he makes.

Pathetic.

Maybe he likes being a little pathetic.

Satoru likes fast, usually – likes quick and dirty. More than that, he likes flexing his strength to take what he wants how he wants. He shouldn’t like none of that. Shouldn’t like that being enacted on him instead.

And yet.

He’s not crying – that would be embarrassing – but he’s close. It’s not the pain that has him here; it’s the desperation. Satoru tries uselessly to pull a hand free. Sukuna’s grip on his wrists is—not steel, no. Steel, he could break. Instead, he’s pinned, forced to accept what he’s given, and Sukuna is not a generous lover.

“Fuck,” he gasps. “Fuck, fuck.” His cock is so hard it aches, pre-cum dribbling out in a steady flow. Neglected this whole time. It’s impossible to get off like this, but Sukuna isn’t trying to get him off. Satoru needs it, would do anything for Sukuna to play with his cock the way he won’t stop playing with his agonizingly raw chest, but he’s not begging. It’s not out of any kind of pride: he would, if he didn’t already know it was useless. Sukuna enjoys hearing him beg too much. Sukuna has never once given him what he wants after he’s begged.

Sukuna won’t give him what he wants tonight, either, Satoru is fairly sure.

[s-che]

simplicity in design is a virtue, you cretins

i'm rereading Avery Alder & Ben Rosenbaum's Dream Askew / Dream Apart in preparation to finally do some serious editing of my game of intimacy, liberation, and faggots at sea Beneath Pirate Flags. among the billion other small things i'm reconsidering as i go over the bob/ndnm fundamentals, i'm really struck by how simple both these games are — elegant in a way i think i really failed to capture in the first public versions of bpf.

i have a theory about this, and it has to do with why i think the sprawling "always another sourcebook" approach taken by a lot of dungeons & drasprawling, commercially successful ttrpgs is fundamentally weak design — but first, here's one of them fancy 'keep reading' buttons you can click on to keep this post from being six and a half miles long.

hey, welcome back. lets get into the details:

bpf makes a critical break from the original ndnm games in the way its environmental playbooks work. mine are things like "the fort" and "the map" (see images) — individual iterations of broader concepts, much like the character playbooks ("legend", "dandy", "monkey" etc) are iterations of common pirate types. there are, almost certainly, multiple "monkeys" in one world — much as there are almost certainly multiple forts.

this contrasts with Askew / Apart's setting books — things like "varied scarcities," "society intact," and "goyishe world." these are intentionally broad environmental pressures. although "society intact" may be encountered different times in different places — with different names and different faces — it is, fundamentally, the same force.

2. this isn't necessarily a thing i want to change (although there are tweaks i'll be making to just about all the playbooks) but it is real interesting to think about how bpf got here, from a design perspective. the story is simple: bpf didn't start from playing either dream. it started with me reading wanderhome, and this design is borrowed (nearly) directly from there.

wanderhome, like bpf, has players create new environmental elements again and again over the course of a campaign — from the smallest kith to the largest citadel, you might be doing generation multiple times in a single session. wanderhome handles this by simplifying, simplifying, simplifying — a trait has one picklist, a nature two, and so the process of generation is quick and nondisruptive, and you're quickly able to create a populated world without losing yourself in any particular moment of generation.

(che, i hear you shouting, you baited us in with an inflammatory claim about d&d's bad design. get to the point already. ok. i will)

one of the things i like most about possum creek games as a whole (ha, got you again) is the way they can become sprawling without ever overwhelming players. this has been talked about a lot in advance of the yazeba's release — but it's true for wanderhome, too.

where both dream askew and dream apart have just six setting elements, wanderhome has (even if you disregard the seasons and holidays) a whopping forty-eight traits and thirty-six natures. it is — despite seeming small in the shadow of yazeba's — a sprawling game, and it's only through a tremendous efficiency and elegance in design that the whole thing doesn't come bursting apart at the seams. some of that is thanks to the ndnm token economy as a whole and some of it is good writing specific to wanderhome, but none of it is possible without an ethic that prioritizes simplicity — cutting the building blocks into their smallest fundamentals, so they can fit into something huge and, more importantly, comprehensible.

this all stands in sharp contrast to what seems to be the tendency in dice- and percentage- based games (told you i'd get there eventually), who — out of a need for a bespoke, simulationist tool for every situation, maybe — have a tendency towards appendices, supplemental books, and a proliferation of minutiae. i am talking about d&d here, although i don't think it's the worst offender — i still have nightmares about the hand-to-hand system from top secret, a game my dad only recently admitted he was "basically only pretending to understand the rules of" when he ran it for my friends and i when we were kids. i'm not saying all crunchy game design is like this — honestly, i think crunchiness is a totally different spectrum from rules-complexity — but i do think that, sometimes, in an effort to feel sprawling and more importantly substantial, games become inefficient and more or less illegible. it is hard to play d&d. it is hard to hold all those rules in your head. by comparison, dream askew, dream apart, and wanderhome can held pretty easily in your head. you could probably even reconstruct some of the playbooks from the design fundamentals (act weak = gain token, act strong = spend token, evocative picklist). the most important thing about these games is that the rules are evocative and they let you stay in the fun part of play for as long as possible, interrupted as little as possible.

let me make this totally clear: the fun part of a game can absolutely be tallying numbers and consulting armor ratings, but i don't think that's the reason some of these games get so big. the real answer is: cutting shit is hard! eliminating systems is hard! saying "this is not helpful, let it go" is really tough, especially when you're left with a design document that was shorter (and by extension, whispers the awful voice in the back of your head, worth less) than you were expecting. still, it's important to remember: 'good system design' is not the same thing as 'filling as many pages as possible.', even if that's hard to accept in an industry that feels like it has to be prices and paid by the page.

how does all this affect beneath pirate flags? well, that's simple — pretty quickly in my recent playtesting, i realized that pausing mid-session to create new maps, forts, ships, and so on sucks ass. it's fun to brainstorm with friends, but the environmental generation throws off the pacing of sessions in a way the wanderhome kith stuff just doesn't. why? there's too much shit in my environmental playbooks! wanderhome has two picklists per nature and one per trait. askew & apart have just one per setting element — and you only have to do it once per campaign. beneath pirate flags has five. five! it sucks! and cutting out that unecessary shit — even if i do want to straddle the middleground between dream askew & dream apart's simplicity and wanderhome's sprawling growth — is going to be the hard first step on the long road to getting this game where it ought to be.

[darkbluekies]

Silas asks #3

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Concept: I've put multiple asks into one post to avoid too much loose posts on my account! This way, you have more to read too<3

Warnings: a little nswf indication, death, indication of suicide, torture,

— ☁️ SILAS AND HEDWIG...! i also thought of them 😌 yanderes that are ruthless to everyone but has a soft side for their darling >>> silas reminds me of a huge teddy bear tbh 😓 he's probably so touchy if only you allow him to. grrr... the thought of sitting on his lap and snuzzling on his chest 😡

Omg yes he does :(( He's so addicted to you, never keeping his hands to himself. He doesn't care if it's only holding your hand or making you his, he loves to be close. Sitting on his lap and cuddling into his chest would be the death of him. Oh, he'd love it so much :((

— Y'know the urge to draw silas is cat ears is something brewing maybe even adding hedwig and jerry (small chance for dr.kry but its still there) to the list who knows not sure to go with my demons or nah

NO. SHOO. LEAVE. NO KITTY EARS ON SILAS

— How would Silas feel about a motherly type of darling? When he comes home from missions injured she absolutely insists on attending his wounds. And when he's sick, she takes care of him, nursing him back to health. She can't just stand by and watch someone else suffer after all!

He'd love it so much! He'd fall for you so badly. If you had any chance to escape before, now there's none. He'll watch over you like a hawk. He knows he doesn't deserve a kind soul like you, but he's so selfish that he'll keep you for himself.

"Thank you so much, baby, but, ouch, you shouldn't ... shouldn't do this. You shouldn't patch me up. I know you want to take care of me, but that's my job! I should take care of you, baby. Not the other way around. But ... thank you so much ... I love you."

— I just read your peice about attempting to escape Silas, and AHHHH Silas REALLY pisses me off!!!.......... And that's how you know you have a very well written villain!!! I thoroughly enjoyed reading that, and can't wait to read more in the future! Keep up the good work (⁠◠⁠‿⁠・⁠)⁠—⁠☆~🥀

haha thank you so much!! there will be more of Silas stupid behaviour in the future, don't you worry!

— What would happen if reader died or became seriously ill after Silas puts them in the basement for a while?

He'll be so sad and regret everything he's ever done. If you survive, he'll be much, much more careful. He'll never do that again. He nearly lost you! Silas can't imagine a life without you.

But if you died ... he'd break apart.

— Gosh seeing how Silas reacted to darling being sick. But like when it comes to me. I can alread imagine how he would be. Cause my immune system sicks I get sick easily...Then there's the fact that I'm clumsy af, I always have random bruises or cuts and don't notice them until I'm in the bath.

Silas would be in constant stress, my friend. You'd give him a heart attack.

— When Silas says he's gonna torture us as punishment at the end of "You Can't Hide From Me" What kind of torture? Like physical, psychological, etc?

I wanted to leave that up to the readers interpretation, but I thought maybe some kind of psychological. When he says that he'll make them know only him, he'll break them down until they don't remember anything but him. He'll destroy them.

— Oh, I’m going to torture you. Badly. What did Silas do to us?

...next question.

— What is Silas’ body count?

Let's say around ten. He's been out and about, tried different things here and there, but nowadays, he only wants you. And he makes sure you know that with how far beyond he'll take you :]

— How many people has Silas killed?

Maybe around thirty? He does half the dirty work himself and half he sends out his men to do.

[fertilisedovumcell]

Heartbreak & losses quotes pt.2

Ah, merciless Love, is there any length to which you cannot force the human heart to go?” ― Virgil, The Aeneid

“How starved you must have been that my heart became a meal for your ego.” ― Amanda Torroni

“every loss, every mistake, was seared into her soul, creating a different kind of tattoo, one made from rage and abandonment, heart break and tears” ― Kami Garcia and Margaret Stohl

“He started to estrange her… And they became strangers Who knew each other's heart, So broken as they drifted apart.” ― Ana Claudia Antunes, Pierrot & Columbine

“Did the destruction of one dream leave a vacuum that required filling with another? Is a broken heart more vulnerable?” ― Cinda Williams Chima, The Exiled Queen

“Thoughts are as simple as the process…a message from the soul; conveyed through the heart; received in the mind” ― Jeremy Aldana

“She ached so badly to be held it felt like a sickness had invaded her muscles and bones. As usual, her own arms provided little comfort.” ― Helen Hoang, The Kiss Quotient

“When the heart is down and the soul is heavy, the eyes can only speak the language of tears” ― Ikechukwu Izuakor

“Then I feel I have given away my whole soul to someone who treats it as if it were a flower to put in his coat, a bit of decoration to charm his vanity, an ornament for a summer's day.” ― Oscar Wilde, The Picture of Dorian Gray

“A faint cry; I can't figure out if it's mine or if it's echoing the other half of my broken heart—the one beating in his chest.” ― Aura Biru, We Are Everyone

“There has to be a whole other level of pain when your soul gets ripped in half.” ― Karen M. McManus, One of Us Is Back

“Those words created in my heart and stomach a physical effect so sickening, so painful, that I have never since doubted that these vibrational frequencies traveling upon air can land a knock-out punch more excruciating than any fist or weapon.” ― Erin Zelinka, On Love and Travel: A Memoir

“My wounded heart, too burdened by scars, struggles even to fathom the concept of love, let alone embrace its gentle touch.” ― Paulo Coelho, The Alchemist

“An Ocean full of thoughts, a broken heart, and a tragic shore of insane storms. I am trapped in a body that is not my own, a world that's too alien for my soul and an evil wounding my heart.” ― Sapppho Khizar

“When stranded in a desert, and you’re dying of thirst, a mirage is the cruelest trick the mind can play. And when you are a stranger among regular folks, and you’re in search of love, a disillusioned or misguided heart is the cruelest thing.” ― Soroosh Shahrivar, Tajrish

“That was the end of the integrity of their love. The succeeding days were a shambles of falseness and hypocrisy, mingled with her tears and moments of animal passion to which she abandoned herself with a greed made indecent by the hollowness of their days.” ― Ian Fleming, Casino Royale

“…my father explained to me in a hushed tone that in times of extreme stress or trauma, humans of all ages will resort back to the fetal position, because it is an instinctual way to protect all our vital organs and because it reminds us of the safest place we all began, thee womb.” ― Lucy Keating, Dreamology

“This was just the world. You trusted people, you loved them, you offered them the dignity of your time and the intimacy of your thoughts and the fraility of your hope and they either accepted it and cared for it or they rejected it and destroyed it and in the end, none of it was up to you. This was just what you got. Heartbreak was inevitable. Disappointment assured.” ― Olivie Blake, The Atlas Paradox

“Being of heart resists no hurt, they savor poison like fine wine. The benevolent takes no notice of betrayal, while the somnolent just moan and whine.” ― Abhijit Naskar, Yarasistan: My Wounds, My Crown

“How can I be reasonable? To me our love was everything and you were my whole life. It is not very pleasant to realize that to you it was only an episode.” ― W. Somerset Maugham, The Painted Veil